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87kelce · 4 months

Text

—can we please get back to loving?

summary: you knew the term exclusive was never something travis would ever use when it comes to your relationship. but you seemed to be the only one he called when he wanted someone around.

warnings: angst, smut (18+ only, no minors), arguments, slow sex, riding, pussy eating, spooning

word count: 2660

notes: title taken from the song written all over your face by louis tomlinson. not proofread so if there's any mistakes i apologise. again likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🫶

You never seemed to get a moments peace at night anymore. You knew better than to answer his calls, however the majority of the time, he was already waiting outside to be let in. But you just couldn't deny how good the sex was. He's barely doing anything and you're coming undone beneath him every time, his soft lips and wandering hands doing wonders on your body.

But then there were times he called and it wasn't for sex. He'd maybe just lost a game and he needs a pick me up, so he calls you. You talk for hours until he hears you yawning and then he thanks you for calming him down and tells you to get some rest. He also apologises for rambling on and keeping you awake for so long, but you tell him it's fine and you'd rather sit up and talk to him if it meant he was ok. You're always worried about him after a loss, he always blames himself for not doing enough and it hurts you that he feels that way.

Then you invited yourself over to his place one day, and he gladly let you in. You knew he had a game the next day so there was no chance of having sex, but at least you could help him focus on the game. He seemed to be in a good mood—he was making you laugh, you were watching TV together and you, slowly but surely, were falling for him. You were falling for the way his eyes practically disappeared when he laughed, falling for the way he always looked at you like you were the only thing in the room, falling for the way he kissed you softly and gently, falling for the way he felt so comfortable around you all the time.

But it was never exclusive, you knew he didn't want that. You were just there for a hook up and to hang out sometimes. If you didn't stop the whole ordeal, you were afraid you might get too attached and he won't reciprocate those same feelings. So you started ignoring his calls, and when he'd text you and ask what's wrong, you make up lies.

I'm too tired. I'm not feeling great. I've got friends over.

But he knew you better than that. After the third excuse he just invited himself over, making up his own excuse of I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And you knew better than to invite him in. But now he's on your couch, flicking through the channels on your TV, completely making himself at home.

"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"

"Hm?"

Travis turned to face you, eyebrows raised. He clearly hadn't heard you, too focused on the TV and you just sighed.

"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"

"Let's not discuss that.. I don't want to start a fight."

"Was I the only girl you were seeing?"

"Don't.."

"I want you to be honest with me."

He sighed, switching off the TV and getting up, walking to the kitchen. He opened your fridge and grabbed a water bottle, taking a sip before coming back to the couch. But he didn't say anything, just sat there in silence before he took his phone out and started scrolling through it.

"Travis.."

"I'm just.. I don't know."

"Is it me? Is it something I've done?"

"No."

You just sighed, getting up and going to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you and flopping onto your bed, crying into your pillow. He's like a completely different person now, compared to the person he was last week, laughing with you on the phone and being so sweet and kind to you. You're just waiting and hoping he knocks on your door, apologises and sweeps you off your feet again, like a knight in shining armour. But you're pretty sure he couldn't care less, and honestly, you're not even sure why he invited himself over in the first place. If he was worried about you, he could've called. You don't know why he was so adamant about being here with you, but not actually being with you.

After one of his games, he gave you an old jersey and you still kept it under your pillow, claiming it helped you sleep better. You reached under and grabbed it, bunching it up and cuddling it. Maybe if you hadn't tried to push him away, he might still be the nice Travis you knew two weeks ago. You kept blaming yourself, putting yourself at fault for everything between you and him, until a knock at your door startled you. You wiped your eyes, getting up and opening it.

"You okay? I was gonna check on you when you slammed the door but.. thought I'd give you some space."

"I'm fine, you can go home if you want."

"That movie you like is on, wanna watch it?"

"Just.. go home."

"I can't go home, not when you're like this."

"I said I'm fine."

"You're not."

He's being pushy but he needs to be, he needs to get you to admit that you're not okay. He knows you better than yourself sometimes and you just roll your eyes, pushing past him to sit on the couch, watching the movie starting. He threw his head back and sighed, but just as he tilted his head back and went to turn and follow you, he noticed the jersey. He remembers giving it to you, smiling when you immediately put it on and twirled round in it. Truthfully, although he won't admit it, that was the first moment he fell in love with you.

He walks into your room, grabbing the jersey before going back to sit with you on the couch. He just throws it down on the middle section of the couch, before sitting down and turning to look at you.

"You keep it on your bed?"

"Under my pillow.."

He just smiled, still watching you until you smiled back at him. He was almost magnetic, pulling you right back into him whenever he could. You let him in so easily and you know you shouldn't.

But then he's pulling you onto his lap, his mouth on your neck, lips soft against your skin. Your hands move up to the back of his neck, fingers scratching gently at the nape of his neck.

"Trav.."

"Shh.. feels good right?"

You just nodded, eyes closing shut.

"Then let it happen.."

As you pulled back slightly, his head tilted, lips moving to the other side of your neck. You felt like you were spinning, feeling all dizzy when he kissed you, ultimately making you forget you were mad at him in the first place. Then you remember he has practice again tomorrow, and it's important.

"We can't do this.. not tonight."

He ignores you at first, kissing along your collarbone and you have to push yourself away from him so he looks up at you.

"Listen to me.. we can't do this.."

"You still mad at me?"

"No, but you have practice again tomorrow."

He just sighs, hands fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. It then hits you that he probably came here just to have sex, his excuse of making sure you were okay was just a lie. You push off him completely, sliding to sit next to him on the couch. But one of his hands is still on your waist, thumb circling gently on your skin.

"I need you to be genuinely honest with me, okay?"

"Okay.."

"Did you come over here for just a hookup?"

"No. You just.. kept avoiding me and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

You stood up from the couch, starting to pace around the room. Sure, he's cared about you but you just can't seem to figure out why he came over to make sure you were alright. He always just calls you, talking your ear off for hours on end and making you laugh to forget about why you were ever upset in the first place.

"I can't keep just having sex. But you don't want to be exclusive with me."

"You want the truth?"

"Please."

"I think you're so fucking cool. I get so happy when you answer my calls, those conversations we have are the one thing I look forward to on my off days. I push all these feelings down because I'm fucking terrified, my work is hectic and I.. I just don't want you to get overwhelmed by it all."

He had sat up now, head facing the ground after he spoke. You slowly sat down, one of your hands reaching for his.

"I remember giving you that jersey.. the way you got all giddy and excited when you put it on. I.."

You squeezed his hand gently and he turned his head to look at you. Then he sat back and once again, pulled you into his lap.

"Ever since then.. I can't stop thinking about you. It's just.. the travelling for away games, you wouldn't be with me for a few days and—"

"Trav.."

He looked into your eyes, feeling your hands cup his cheeks.

"I can handle a few days without you every so often.."

"Are you sure?"

You just smiled, kissing his forehead.

"I'm sure."

You let go of his face as he pulled you in against him, his forehead resting against the side of your neck. Everything felt so heavy with him before, but you didn't know that it was all on him. You had doubts that if you told him how you felt, that he wouldn't reciprocate those same feelings. There was no way you could've predicted him actually being in love with you. Especially with the sex, but now, as he moved his head back and kissed you softly on your neck, he could be sweet and gentle with you.

He moved his hands to your waist, shuffling forward on the couch before standing up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Walking you to the bedroom, you dropped your head to his shoulder, tilting your head to kiss the side of his neck. You unwrapped your legs from his waist when you felt the bed dip beneath you as he lay you down. One of his hands fumbled with your shorts as the other bunched your shirt up, his fingers brushing over your nipple, making you gasp slightly.

His head was resting against your stomach, lips leaving lingering kisses all over your skin, and you couldn't help but watch him, eyes closed and savouring every moment with you. He had managed to wiggle your shorts and underwear off, and now his mouth was kissing the inside of your thighs. You were still looking down at him when he flashed his eyes up at you, his mouth hovering over your core. He moved your left leg over his shoulder, while he pushed at the back of your thigh on your right leg, keeping it open. The hand that wasn't holding your leg open, wrapped around your other leg, trying to keep you in place while he buried his head between your legs. He could feel you squirming underneath him and almost anticipated your movements, his head moving in time with you.

You threw your head back when he delved his tongue inside, mouth still attached to your folds. Again, he flashed his eyes up at you, grinning when he saw you slightly arch your back up off the sheets. He licked through your folds a couple more times, before you reached one hand down, pushing against his forehead.

"Trav.. please.. too much.."

But he didn't stop, he just pushed his tongue deeper, licking faster, your whines and moans only egging him on further. But just as he knew you were close, he pulled away, reaching down and wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt. He then shrugged your leg off his shoulder and stood up in between your legs.

"You close?"

"Mmph.. mmhm.."

You slowly opened your eyes, watching him walk round the bed, before sitting down and patting his thighs. You slowly turned over, crawling up the bed and swinging your leg over his thighs. When his hands found your waist, he smiled up at you, brushing your hair out your face.

"There's my girl.."

You just blushed, lowering yourself down and hiding your face in his neck.

"Does my girl wanna come?"

"Please?"

He reached behind you and pulled at his shorts, dragging them off. He returned his focus to you, realising still how sensitive you already were and started to move his hands up and down your sides, squeezing gently and almost trying to massage you. While his hands were occupied, you lifted yourself onto your knees slightly, reaching down between both your bodies and adjusting yourself onto him, sinking down and sighing into his shoulder when he was fully inside.

"Take it easy, baby.. nice and slow."

You were feeling so overwhelmed that you couldn't move much, rather just grinding against him. His hands on your waist made you move, lifting you off him slightly before pushing you back down. His lips were kissing your neck, softly and sweetly, and you could feel him smiling against your skin.

Since he had basically eaten you out to almost orgasm earlier, it didn't take long before you let go against him, mumbling out that you were close.

"Let go.. I got you.."

You sighed out in relief, legs slightly trembling around him as he shh'd and cooed at you. He gave you a few languid thrusts himself to ride you through it and over it, before you felt him grunt in your ear. He was close and although you were still sensitive and still coming down from your own high, you wanted to help him get to his. Grinding your hips down onto him, he threw his head back against the pillow, eyes screwed shut and his mouth open.

"Unless you want me to come inside you, you better get off my dick.."

You pulled off him and heard him sigh against your neck, dropping his head back to your shoulder. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue, cleaning himself up. You then slid off him, laying down on the bed, feeling him drag his shorts back on before laying down behind you, arm wrapping around your waist.

"I hate when we fight.."

"I know, baby.. but if we hadn't had that fight, I wouldn't have realised what a dick I was being and wouldn't have told you how I feel about you. I could've just left when you told me to leave.."

"I'm glad you didn't.."

He just smiled and kissed your shoulder, before nuzzling his forehead against it.

"Now.. you gotta sleep, you have practice tomorrow.. and I don't think Reid will let you turn up late.. again.."

He just laughed, kissing your shoulder again before resting his head into the pillow. You felt his hand play with the hem of your t-shirt for a while before he stopped and you knew he'd drifted off to sleep. You stayed awake for a while after that, unable to think about anything except Travis. Eventually your eyes fluttered closed and you drifted off to sleep, warmed by his arm around your stomach.

#travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce x y/n #travis kelce x you #travis kelce fic #kansas city chiefs #kc chiefs #nfl #nfl fan fic

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gilverrwrites · 2 months

Note

Could you make a Sam Winchester having erotic dreams with his female best friend?

Author Note: Hello! I hope you don't mind, but I combined this request with your other request for Dean in the same scenario (and added Cas cause 😍) I'm also working on a separate fic for Dean having erotic dreams about a rival per that request. I really hope you enjoy! ❤️

Rating: M/18+

Words: 1940 (Dean 685, Sam 685, Cas 570)

Request Info | Masterlist | Ko-Fi

It's a total coincidence that Dean and Sam are both 685 each!

Please remember: To focus on the things that make you happy.

Dean Winchester

“Oooh yes Dean, yes, that’s it.” Your voice sounds hoarse and breathy. Makes sense cause you’ve been moaning like that, praising like that all night. “You like that baby?” Dean asks from beneath you, completely entranced by the bounce of your breasts and the sway of your hips as you ride him. “You like fuckin’ yourself on my dick baby?” “Yes, Dean, yes! You feel so fucking good. Make me feel so good.” You chant, and when your head rolls back in ecstasy, Dean follows. His fingers grip at your skin, forcing you against him as he ruts into you, spilling himself inside.

That was last night’s dream. The most recent in a string of dreams that left him hot and bothered every morning. The worst part was facing you. Trying to look you in the eye, discuss a case, or make a game plan without thinking about you naked and moaning on his dick.

He’d been avoiding you as much as possible, but sometimes just your name was enough to make him pop a boner, much like the one he had now. He positioned his beer bottle over his offending member and forced himself to stare out the window, averting his gaze from the sight of you, bent over the nearest pool table.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” The sound of your voice made him jump. Man, how out of it was he?

“What?” He looked up at you, hands on hips, staring down at him. The sight made his lips dry. “Oh nothin’, I think I’ve had too many. Maybe I should call it a night.”

“You’ve had like two drinks. That barely even touches the sides.” You state, and you’re not wrong. You know him too well. He can’t help clenching his jaw as you sit down across from him. When he sees how your new angle offers him a perfect shot of your cleavage, he thinks he might start grinding away his teeth. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean then?” He leans in closer. Not to be closer, but he hopes leaning forward might help hide the bulge in his jeans.

“You’ve been acting funny, and avoiding me all wee-“

“N-“

“Don’t interrupt. Yes, you have.” You punctuate your statement by placing your drink on the table. You don’t slam, but it's hard and firm enough to communicate your point. “Don’t you try to deny it Dean Winchester! I know you too well. You’ve been avoiding me, and when you can’t get away you’re all squirrely and quiet. Now tell me what’s going on.”

He drains his beer as he thinks it over. Partly to try and return some moisture to his mouth but primarily to buy himself some time while he thinks things over. If he’s honest, he might get something out of it. A one-night stand, a fuck buddy, maybe more? Or he might lose you, which he couldn’t stand.

“I…”

“Come on Dean, whatever it is, we’ll get through it. We always do.”

Fuck it. You’re right. He gestures to the bartender for another round, takes a deep breath, and spills. And a funny thing happens: he starts to feel more relaxed as he lets it out. If you’re not into it, that’s fine. So long as it doesn’t scare you off.

When he’s done, he watches you as you process his confession. Man, he loves the way your face moves when you’re thinking.

“So…” You purse your lips and take a quick sip of your drink as you prepare your response. “What’s the problem? Do you not want to sleep with me?”

“No, I do. Obviously, you’re…” hot, incredible, the only woman I want. Unable to voice any of the thoughts in his head at that moment, he gestures to you, head to toe and back again. “I just don’t want it to cause problems between us. Our friendship”

“Then we won’t let it.” You state matter-of-factly. “Now, are you gonna take me back to the bunker so we can fuck each other dumb or not?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Sam Winchester

His fingers are knuckle deep inside of you as you lay back, spread out across his bed. “Fuckkk… Sam!” You look up at him, eyes hazy, hair a mess, and he can feel his dick throb in response. “Sam, I’m so full.” “Poor baby.” He coos in response. “So full already, and I’ve barely even touched you.” He watches the way your expression melts at his words with pride, when he sees your lips start to form your reply, he places a direct smack to your clit. The whine you release is music to his ears. The way you wither and moan as he begins to play with your clit, fuck, you’re so hot. “Are you ready for more?” He asks. He’s pleased when you begin vigorously nodding. “Yes, Sam! Yes! Yes, please!”

Years of impersonating officials and hustling at almost every bar he stopped at had earned Sam a more than convincing poker face. But you always saw right through it.

For that reason, Sam had been bending over backwards to avoid you. He wasn’t totally sure what he was hiding, the fact that he’d dreamed about you, or the fact that he’d furiously masturbated to the memory of it upon waking up. Either way, he wasn’t ready to face you.

He’d hung back in the morning, grabbing his breakfast later than usual. Gone to the local library all day to research, citing a change of scenery when Dean questioned him, and had gone grocery shopping as an excuse to stay out later.

After unpacking the shopping, he’d hopped in the shower, making up for skipping his usual morning routine.

What he hadn’t accounted for was finding you, dressed in nothing but your panties and one of his t-shirts, in the centre of his bed. The very bed he’d vividly fantasised about pleasing you in.

It wasn’t an unusual sight. You were his best friend after all. You often hung out in each other’s rooms, and you frequently borrowed his shirts. He just really could have done without all this today.

“Hey Sam.” You greeted him with a smile, looking up from your laptop. “I missed you today.”

“Hey.” He responds awkwardly. Both hands clutching at his towel. He clears his throat before continuing. “Yeah, I was busy I guess. You too.”

“No worries.” You assure him before returning your gaze to your screen. “I could use your help with something if that’s alright?”

“Sure.” He approaches the bed. Certain close proximity will escalate his predicament he resolves to remain standing. However, looking down at you, with your head so close to his crotch, is equally stirring something within him. Reluctantly, he sits beside you. He glances at your computer briefly but quickly becomes preoccupied with adjusting and readjusting his towel, determined to cover the growing erection beneath.

“So, I’ve been looking into the apple of Sodom for Claire but…” he swears he meant to listen, but he’d never noticed how good you smell before, or how your skin glows even under the dingy light of his room. “Sam? Sam are you even listening?”

“Yeah, of course.” He finally tunes back in. “Apple of Sodom, Claire… hand of God?”

He looks into your eyes to judge his improv, but you’re staring, wide-eyed, right at the thing he’s been trying to hide.

“Is that- are you…” You look at his face, and he can feel the heat spreading across his cheeks. “For- because of me?”

“I’m sorry!” He stands, pausing to compose his words before continuing his apology. “I just, I had this dream last night about you, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about all day. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong.”

“Why is it wrong?”

“Because you’re my friend. My best friend.”

“Right.” You always saw right through him, but fortunately, that was a two-way skill, and right now, he could hear, he could feel the disappointment you were radiating.

“Unless…” he cocks a brow at you, and your body immediately perks up. You look up at him, eyes hazy, identical to his dream. “Do you want this too?”

Castiel

You’re a vision on your knees before him, eyes watering, cheeks puffed out, hair tangled between his fingers. He stares intently, relishing in all the subtle movements of your faces as he lazily pumps his penis between your lips. His grip grows tighter every time he feels the back of your throat against his tip. Your muffled pants and moans are music to his ears. The way your lips glisten beneath the sheen of your own saliva is erotic, and he worries the sight of you alone will be enough to make him finish before he’s really begun.

It’s that vision he’s thinking of now as he watches you on your hands and knees, scrubbing a chalk pentagram off the floor.

He’s brought out of his chain of thoughts by the sound of your voice. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.” He squints at your face; he is confident it looks fine, more than fine, beautiful in fact, but he examines it in more depth, nonetheless. “There is nothing on your face. In fact, your face is quite adequate.”

“Quite adequate, I’ll take that as high praise.” You laugh. He’s not certain what’s so funny, but the sound is exquisite, and only further fuels the unfamiliar fiery feeling he’s experiencing. “But seriously, why are you staring at me?”

Your line of questioning makes sense to him now. He briefly considers lying to you, but on the spot he cannot think of anything convincing. “I slept last night.”

“I didn’t know Angels did that.” It’s not a question, but he has learned many human cues during his time on Earth. You’re digging for more information.

“We can, but we do not need to, so typically we don’t. I thought I might trial it to see if it would help in replenishing my grace.” He answers.

“Did it help?” Your inquisitiveness is ceaseless. It is something he has always liked about you.

“No.” He replies, he enjoys the brief frown of disappointment you give in response. “I did however, dream of you.”

“Ahh, and what did me and my quite adequate face do in your dream?” You’re smiling again as you scrub at a particularly stubborn stain. He notices the unintentionally alluring way you chew at your bottom lip and is immediately reminded of the way you had looked in his dream, as you waited in anticipation for him to expose his genitals.

He allows himself to wonder how you will react to his next statement; he hopes you’ll be as excited and pliable as you had been in his fantasy. “You were nude, on your knees, performing fellatio on my, well, my vessels penis.”

“Oh!” You respond in a tone that he believes to be humorous and a little surprised. Until you look down at your knees, considering your precarious position. “Oooooh.”

You don’t say anything else, nor do you look back up at him. He begins to worry that he may have said something inappropriate, or that you thought he had disliked the experience.

“It was an enjoyable dream, if that is your concern.” He attempts to offer comfort.

“Well, I suppose that’s good news.” You nod to yourself; your tone gives nothing away. “I wonder if my real-life skills are as enjoyable as your fantasies.”

“I wouldn’t know, we have never…” His line of speech, his thoughts are interrupted by the enticing sight of you crawling towards him. “Oh.”

#supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #supernatural x reader #spn imagine #gilverrwrites

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imaginesforfandom · 3 months

Text

A Wolverine's Heartache - Part I

Part II Part III

Requested by Anon!!!

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

She/Her pronouns used

Summary: On two separate occasions, both Y/N and Logan find jealousy within their friendship.

Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that crept up whenever she saw Logan and Jean together. Jean Grey, with her fiery red hair and telepathic abilities, had a magnetic presence that drew people in – including Logan. Y/N had always considered Logan a close friend, but the way he and Jean interacted left her grappling with an unfamiliar emotion: jealousy.

One day, the three of them found themselves in the mansion's kitchen, preparing a meal together. As they chopped vegetables and exchanged banter, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way Logan's eyes lingered on Jean. The easy camaraderie between them felt like a barrier, and Y/N struggled to find her place in their dynamic.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Jean asked, breaking into Y/N's thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sounds good," Y/N replied, forcing a smile. She busied herself with the task at hand, trying to push away the irrational feeling of jealousy that clawed at her insides.

Logan noticed her distant expression and furrowed his brow. "Somethin' on your mind, kid?"

Y/N hesitated, then decided to be honest. "It's just… I sometimes feel like I'm the third wheel when you two are together."

Logan glanced at Jean, then back at Y/N, a hint of realization in his eyes. "We're just friends, Y/N. You know that, right?"

Y/N nodded, but the knot of jealousy persisted. It wasn't about doubting their friendship; it was about grappling with a longing she couldn't quite put into words. As days passed, the tension lingered, and Y/N found herself withdrawing, avoiding situations where she might witness Logan and Jean's closeness.

One evening, Y/N sat alone in the garden, contemplating her feelings. Storm, sensing her distress, approached and took a seat beside her. "You seem troubled, Y/N. Care to share?"

Y/N sighed, looking up at the stars. "I don't know, Storm. It's just… Logan and Jean, they have this connection. I can't help feeling like I'm on the outside."

Storm placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Sometimes, we create our own barriers. Have you talked to Logan about how you feel?"

Y/N shook her head. "I don't want to cause any problems. They're happy together, and I'm just the friend."

Storm smiled gently. "Communication is the key. You may be surprised at what you find."

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Logan clenched his jaw as he watched Y/N and Hank engage in a lively conversation across the lab. The two shared a camaraderie that went beyond mere friendship, and it left a bitter taste in Logan's mouth. He had never been one to easily admit his feelings, especially when it came to matters of the heart, but the sight of Y/N and Hank together stirred a deep-seated jealousy within him.

It wasn't that Logan doubted Y/N's friendship or loyalty. Hank was a brilliant scientist, and they often found common ground in their discussions about mutations and experiments. Yet, there was an intimacy in the way Y/N laughed at Hank's jokes and the ease with which they collaborated on various projects that struck a nerve with Logan.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Xavier Institute, Logan found himself nursing a drink at the mansion's makeshift bar. Y/N and Hank were engrossed in a lively debate in the corner, their laughter rising above the low hum of conversations.

Storm, sensing Logan's unease, joined him at the bar. "Something on your mind, Logan?" she asked, her keen eyes noting the tension in his posture.

Logan grunted, taking a swig of his drink. "Just ain't sittin' right with me, that's all."

Storm followed his gaze to where Y/N and Hank were still deep in conversation. "Y/N values her connections with all of us. Hank is a friend, nothing more."

Logan's gaze hardened, his knuckles white around the glass. "I know that, Storm. It's just…damn it, I can't help feelin' like I'm playin' second fiddle to that furball."

Storm raised an eyebrow, her expression softening. "Jealousy, Logan?"

He scoffed, avoiding eye contact. "Ain't my style."

But Storm saw through the facade. "Maybe it's time to talk to Y/N. Let her know how you feel. Communication can clear the air, my friend."

Logan grunted again, mulling over Storm's words. As the night wore on, the tension between him and Hank remained unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. Little did Logan know that the impending tragedy on the horizon would soon force him to confront his feelings, revealing the depth of his emotions in a way he had never anticipated.

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second part should be out tomorrow!! thank you again to the Anon that requested this 😊 i hope you don't mind that i'm including both of the requests into one fic!

#logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #james howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #james howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett x y/n #james howlett x y/n #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett oneshot #james howlett oneshot #wolverine oneshot #logan howlett imagine #james howlett imagine #wolverine imagine

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nickeverdeen · 4 months

Note

hello! I really enjoy reading ur work, so I’m wondering if I could request a TUA (the umbrella academy) preference where the reader confesses their feelings during an argument (they aren’t dating yet) no pressure ofc <3 thank u sm for being a good writer!!

Thanks for requesting!!! And thanks for those words, I might be slower at writing considering I have school tests everyday, well I mean I’m in law school so what was I expecting-

Anyway, thanks a lot for everything 🫶

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Confessing your feelings to Umbrella Academy members during an argument

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TW: Cussing, mention of injury, drugs, sometimes cliché

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You = white text

Luther = blue text

Diego = red text

Allison = pink text

Klaus = orange text

Five = green text

Ben = also green text, but cursive (‘cause I’m running out of colors)

Viktor = purple text

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Luther Hargreeves

This takes place in season 1

The argument was pretty simple

You just wanted him to shut up for like 5 seconds about the moon and stop defending Reginald and digging into his death

You two were currently standing in the “meeting room” in the Umbrella Academy along with others discussing how Reginald died. Sure you weren’t part of this family, but you were invited anyway. Why you had no idea, maybe ‘cause you were a family friend?

“Jesus Christ Luther, stop digging into it so much. It was a heartattack, calm down” you rolled your eyes sighing as you agreed along with others that Reginald died of a heart attack.

“Oh so you’re on their side now? Even my best friend, great” he chuckled at the irony rolling his eyes. “Well I wonder why” Diego sneered. Soon the whole room started arguing about it, you’ve had enough of this. They were adults so they should act like it

Standing up from your seat you shook your head whistling which only caught Viktor’s and Allison’s attention… not what you wanted.

“Shut the fuck up!” You finally yelled and they all grew silent except for Diego who insulted his brother and you before storming off. “We’re all adults yet you all act like kids. Get your shit together” you sighed frustrated.

With that Luther got up and took few steps towards you “You don’t have a say in this. Dad was murdured, and last time I checked I was on the Moon to-“ Luther started but got cut off by you

“Luther, for the love of god, as much as I love you, shut up about the Moon and stop defending him” You rolled your eyes making Viktor raise his eyebrows suprised

Luther stood there kidna offended at first before realizing what you said “Wait what?” You just cussed under your breath. This is gonna be a long day.

At first Allison was kidna jealous for sure, but slowly joined Klaus with sometimes teasing you. You had a lot of explaining to do.

Diego Hargreeves

This takes place in season 2

Along woth others you had enough of Diego thinking about J. F. Keneddy 24/7

It was another night at Elliot’s and here you were, sitting in a corner across the room from Diego with Five between the two of you. You all were watching a tape Hazel gave Five before dying, a man on a grassfield was standing there when the president is getting shot.

To be honest you rightfully along with Lila who was sitting near you had no idea who this is unlike the two boys who seemed shocked at it

“Uh guys? Wanna also tell us who that is?” You asked awkwardly with Lila nodding slightly only to hear a whisper “dad” escape their mouths at the same time.

“Do you see this? That’s dad and he is the one who killed the president” Diego turned to you with a serious expression “Oh here we go” You rolled your eyes crossing your arms. “How can you know for sure that it was him? It doesn’t look like he’s holding a gun” you just shrugged leaving Diego frowning

“Do you even listen to me? That’s a proof that he is the killer!” Diego stood up pacing around the room

“And you know that how? He-“ you get cut off as he looks at you sharply, if you didn’t know him you’d think he’s crazy

“Take it easy, Diego” Five said calmly trying to ease the situation, but of course it didn’t help. “He is the killer! Don’t you hear me?! The evidence is right here!” Diego yells at you pointing at the tape

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you don’t wanna tell me that I fell for a madman” You scoffed crossing your arms taking a step towards him and he took a small step back as he processed what you said

“Well that’s an awkward silence” Lila said chuckling slightly, but none of you spoke until Five told you both that there’s no time for these things right now and you both followed him out to wherever you guys are going

“We’re not done with this conversation” Diego said, but not so agressively, more calmly yet of course not softly as it ain’t in his nature.

Allison Hargreeves

This takes place in season 3

You were starting to get really annoyed with her, but when you caught her trying to rumor herself in the mirror to be happy you couldn’t be angry or upset with her at that moment

You and other Hargreeves siblings were just miding your own businesses, but you did notice that Allison was missing. At first you didn’t make a big deal out of it, she was being really annoying, but still that didn’t mean that you didn’t care about her. You were on this crazy Hargreeves rollecoster since the very beggining and they were all very dear to you.

So here you were looking through the whole hotel for her, you were starting to give up before you heard a glass break in the bathroom.

Slowly you stepped in and that’s when you witnessed it. “I heard a rumor that you were happy” Allison said trying to rumor herself through the mirror you weren’t sure if it’d work, but you sure as hell were concerned by now, you were aware that she had a hard time, but this was really bad.

“Allison?” You stepped in properly after seeing that it doesn’t work

Allison slightly jumped at the sudden voice, she didn’t need to turn around to know that it’s you “What do you want?”

Her words were sharp, but you tried to ignore the feeling and took few steps closer, your eyes inspecting her bloody hand from the distance. “Are you okay…?” You asked slowly unsure if she wants to open up

She just scoffed rolling her eyes as she faced you “Since when do you care?” You didn’t like this defensive side of her, but you knew that loving her means loving her even at her worst

“I always cared, Al-“ getting cut off Allison stood up properly frowning “No you didn’t. You don’t care that Claire’s dead, you don’t care that both my husbands are dead! You don’t care at all!”

She shouted obviously getting irritated by your words even though they were honest. “Allison that’s not true!” You tried to argue back “I care about you and mainly your wellbeing! You need help-“ “I don’t need help! Now get out!” She cut you off once again taking few steps towards you, but you didn’t really take any steps back and stood your ground

“Yes you do! You’re even rumoring yourself to be happy! You’re not alright at all!” You took a deep breath taking few steps towards her as well “Just let me help you!” You looked up at her, but she wasn’t calming down any time soon and you knew that. “And why would you want that?! To impress others with your comforting skills?! Make me feel even worse?!”

She shouted, she knew damn well that she doesn’t mean it and knew that she’s being a bitch right now, but she couldn’t stop. She was hiding her pain and anger deep down inside of her for too long and even though she didn’t want to, she just had to let it out on you. Not ‘cause she wanted to, but ‘cause you were closest and she knew you’d forgive her overtime, plus you understood her and she just had to let everything out despite knowing it’s not heathly for neither of you.

“No! Of course not! Allison I love you and don’t want you to suffer! Please…”

You were more calm at the end, but got confused when she shut up and just stared at you in shock before it hit you that you just confessed

“What?” She asked blinking in confusion, but also a neutral voice “Allison… I love you” you repeated making sure she knows you don’t mean just as friends

“Please don’t… I’ll just lose you too. Stop” she mumbled shaking her head, she couldn’t take another loss

“You won’t lose me” you stood up on your tip-toes and kissed her just shortly and slightly of course, you didn’t wanna scare her. “Now let me help you with your hand” you took her bloody hand and started tending it knowing that Allison isn’t ready for a relationship just yet so you didn’t expect her to say it back right now, but you knew that she did love you.

Klaus Hargreeves

This takes place in season 1

You catch Klaus stealing in the Academy from his father on the funeral day

“Klaus? Wha- what are you doing?” You laughed seeing him under his father’s table where Reginald kept all his work

“Oh Y/N! How nice it is to see youuuuu” He sounded high and he probably was, but then again he had every reason to get high, but that doesn’t mean you approved of it

Klaus quickly reached for a hug which you with a sigh accepted “Klaus you’re high again” you crossed your arms rolling your eyes. “We talked about this”

“But those bitches are everywhere and it’s just so much better” he smiled amd you had to chuckle at his silliness “Give me the drugs” you held out your hand raising eyebrows “Oh you want it too????”

He asked and gave it to you and you just threw it out of the window “What’re you doing?!” He exclaimed with wide eyes “Helping you. Now go wash your face.”

You said clearly pissed off by his behaivor “Y/n! I need those!!!” He whined making you roll your eyes “No, you don’t. You need therapy, along with this whole family of yours” you stated clearly

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” He whined “You don’t understand what I’m going through when I’m clean!” He suddenly yelled at you making you raise your eyebrows

“No Klaus, you don’t understand what I’m going through when I see the man I love somewhere begging for drugs instead of trying to get a real help!”

You argued back, but he stopped “What?”

Five Hargreeves

This takes place in season 3

You both didn’t pick the same side when Reginald asked you all who’s for saving the world and who’s against it - you voted for saving the world while he didn’t

“Are you serious?” You looked at Five frowning confused as he stood on the other side. “Five, after all this time of trying to save the world you’re just gonna give up on the only chance we have ‘cause your older you told you so?”

You scoffed shaking your head and he frowned stepping closer to you “Y/N I am doing the right thing. Right, we’ve been trying to save the world this whole time and did we manage to change something? Nein! It’s over and over the same” Five frowned stepping closer to you

Unaware of the small distance between you two you stepped closer too and looked down at him “I’m not just gonna sit here and wait for the world to end with a boy I fell for and see him die. Five just come on and try this! One more time”

You sighed and tried to plea him, but to no vail as he didn’t budge “”Boy I love”? Please don’t bring that cocky shit-” “Maybe we should all calm down, alright?” Viktor tried to diescelate the situation, but failed as you and Five ignored him and kept arguing.

“You think you’re always right, hm? You are a child, you-” However you cut him off with a sneer “A child? That’s rich coming from you” Five took a deep breath and looked up at you his height making it impossible for him to look you straight in the eyes without looking up. “Y/N I love you, but you’re starting to seriously piss me off-“ He shut up as you all realized that another wave of Kugablitz is coming and had to run. Sure you two were gonna have to sort things out

Ben Hargreeves

This takes place in season 2

He got angry ‘cause you keep diapproving of him possesing Klaus’ body

(Btw Y/N can see Ben here)

“Am I talking to Ben or Klaus?” You asked annoyed not seeing Ben anywhere so you just assumed that he posessed Klaus’ body which was sitting on the floor

“Hey Y/N! It’s Ben! God I’m so glad you came I couldn’t find you at the courtyard” he got up and hugged you tightly, but you could still feel that it’s Klaus’ body which wasn’t ideal at all. You didn’t like it and you were over this conversation many times

“Ben… you do realize that I can see you just like Klaus can, right?” You sighed shaking your head in disapproval “But it’s not the same! In a body-“ he starts but you just cut him off

“In any body I can’t see you, but the person whose body it is, Ben” you sighed shaking your head “But Y/N, you don’t understand… being ghost.. it’s as if I’m nothing” He took few steps closer to you, but you just backed up

“Y/N, please just listen… you don’t know what it’s like!” Suddenly he snaps. That’s very out of character of him. “God, Ben. You don’t get it do you?! I don’t love the body you are in, I love you when you’re yourself, Ben!”

You shook your head frowning and andead silence falls in the room and you soon hear him parting from Klaus’ body

“Aw man, I feel like I’ll throw up” Klaus moans and backs up. You ignore him whimpering and just focus on Ben who’s too stunned to speak.

It’s gonna be a long day…

Viktor Hargreeves

This takes place in season 2

Y/N is helping Five look for others so they’d get them all to the suitcase in time, but Viktor insists to go back for Sissy and Harlan

You kept driving around couple of blocks looking for your best friend - Viktor - literally everywhere

Driving on a road leading away from Sissy’s farm you were slowly losing all hope, but for Viktor’s sake and your mental stability’s sake you kept going, you had to find him.

Driving away you saw another car passing by you and Viktor in it. Immediately you stopped in a way that your car - well a stolen car that you claim to be yours - died. Viktor on the other hand stopped slowly

“Viktor? Thank God, where were you?!” You were quick to hug him before he even had a chance to get out of the car properly

“Jesus! Y/N what are you doing here?” Obviously strandled a bit Viktor pulled away and rubbed your shoulder a bit “What’s going on?”

“Five found a way to get back home! No apocalypse or anything like that, we can go back!” You quickly explained and started walking towards your car, but stopped when you realized he wasn’t following “Viktor?” He shifted in his place thinking “I hate to tell you this, but we only have fifteen minutes-“ you started, but he cut you off

“I’m taking Sissy and Harlan” Viktor practically stated “What? Viktor you can’t do that, their disappearance could have major concequences” you shook your head looking back at your watch. 13 minutes.

“What consequences would it create if we’d just take a farm boy and woman with us?” Viktor obviously had enough and he headed back to his car “We don’t have time for that Viktor!” You pulled him by his arm back and he only snatched it away “Viktor don’t” you warned him shaking your head, true you don’t have powers, but he doesn’t have to know that

“What’s so wrong about this? I love Sissy and am not leaving her!” You knew he did. He loves Sissy, but you kidna were in denial. “What?” He looked at you still angry, but more confused now that you’re silent. 2 minutes.

“Sissy isn’t the only one who loves you, you idiot” you said and got into your car, but Viktor stopped you by your hand

“What?”

#request #preferences #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves x reader #diego hargreaves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #viktor hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves

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madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

Hello can you make a headcanon what type of woman/partner miguel would be his type ? Tysm

okayy so i will mostly be speaking here mentality/personality wise and not physically wise (i think miguel would probably focus more on the way his partner thinks than their appearance)

little note : i based some of my thinking and reasoning on the fact that miguel's mbti is ISTJ and thought about how he would get along with other mbti types

headcanon : miguel's type content warnings : none word count : 485 tag list : @fandom-ash

he is probably a man who likes a match that can connect with their values, work styles and schedules. which doesn’t mean that he is completely immune to the possibility of being adventurous

i’d say he is a traditional man, so he’ll probably search for someone like that too, but he’ll still seek for someone that can get him out of his comfort zone, such as fun and loving individuals who live in the moment – who are still able to respect tradition, of course, and that can decrease his overall stress simply by their presence

he’d also need an intelligent partner, or at least someone with whom he can have deep discussions

he wants someone who is independent – he spends enough time already baby sitting an entire society, and dealing with a childish partner isn’t really what he’s searching for in a relationship

since he is a man who, when making decisions, places rationality ahead of emotions, he’d really have to take time to methodically evaluate his partner

which brings me to an important point : he needs someone who is patient. he doesn’t fall in love easily, he’s actually the exact opposite of a quick lover. it takes time to know him, he likes to take time to know his partner, and likes to take it even more for him to truly commit to a relationship

he’s not the kind to enjoy risk-taking, especially when the subject is love. he takes his time to date to properly evaluate his partner before making any moves

he can find it difficult to express his feelings directly through words. during debates, he can struggle to find the proper word to express his expression and thoughts, which emphasizes the need for someone be patient and that will not judge him to hastily

I think we can say that on some globality with miguel, what you see is what you get, honesty and straightforwardness is a pillar in his relations, so his partner has to be honest as well.

he might sound too cold from time to time in his words, which can sometime be involuntary, so his partner should preferably be able to see through the tone of his words and focus mostly on what message he’s trying to express

he has a strong sense of duty and responsibility so he will work hard at fulfilling his promises – sometimes sacrificing himself in the process because he always put others first, which is why he needs someone responsible that can bring him back on firm ground in reality and can properly take care of him by showing him how to put himself first sometimes

he wants someone that is dependable and reliable, someone confident and self-assured, that will keep their objectivity in any situation

since he is practical, logical and very grounded, I can imagine him searching the same qualities in his partner

honestly, I think what miguel is searching for is someone that has a similar way of thinking to him, but that is less afraid of taking risks and ready to work for their relationship

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agathasangel · 1 year

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Playing House (alpha!agatha harkness x omega!reader)

this is my first time doing anything omegaverse so yeah

warnings: omegaverse, mommy kink, kinda unhealthy relationship, professor!alpha!agatha, innocence/corruption kink, legal age gap, smut

word count: 1778

summary: agatha was your professor, and she took you under her wing. sure she was an alpha, you were an omega, and you had a crush on her and would always try to play house, but that doesn’t mean anything! Right?

You didn’t honestly expect that Agatha would want to be your alpha. Out of the kindness of her heart, she had taken you under her wing. At the time she was your neighbor, and a professor at the local college, which you had attended. You didn’t expect anything more than that.

Your first semester, you lived in a small apartment by yourself. You had made some friends, two betas and an alpha, and you were doing well in your classes. At first. The stress got to you quickly though. Your parents began to fight and told you they were splitting up at the same time as your friends turned on you. Your performance in your classes started to drop as well. You only had one good thing left, and that was your History of Witchcraft class with professor Agatha Harkness.

Agatha was a beautiful older woman who also happened to live on your floor. She was always kind to you and made sure you were okay.

“Hey, superstar. I heard you crying, are you okay? You wanna come over, have some company while you study? I can make you dinner.”

“I- I don’t want to bother you. I’m sorry you heard.”

“No bother at all, I’m serious. I just want to help you. God, this place is so tiny. Mine has a lot more space if you’re interested.” You came over to her apartment and spent a lovely, peaceful evening with her. You felt happy and less lonely. She did make dinner for you, and she didn’t make you talk about your problems. She just sat with you, being there if you needed her.

You would sometimes come over to her apartment just to talk, just to feel you had someone in your corner. You knew Agatha was an alpha, you could smell it on her, but you never discussed it. You assumed your attraction to her was probably not returned, as she had not yet made a move and you were so much younger than she was, and such a mess. You were there more and more, until you practically lived together. You even fell asleep on her couch from time to time and she would take care not to wake you, tucking you in and making some extra coffee the next morning.

Things changed between the two of you, slowly at first. You spent even more time with her, cuddling her and studying together and having fun. Your liked to cook for her, and you thought it was fun to play house a bit with the older, more experienced alpha. It fulfilled a fantasy you had that you didn’t think was possible. But she always played along, and was loving and caring.

“You’re just adorable, baby. You made this for me?” She would say after you surprised her with dinner.

“Of course!”

You also liked to bake, and were quite good at it. You would use your talent to impress Agatha every chance you got, and it worked.

“That’s amazing. You’re gonna make some alpha really happy one day, hon.”

Agatha never acknowledged that you were an omega before. You were sure that she knew, but she never said anything about it. If you were honest, the fact that she was acknowledging it at all excited you.

Agatha liked to show that she could be protective of you as well.

“It’s okay, little one. Mama’s got you,” she would say, possessively wrapping an arm around you as you watched a scary movie. She often referred to herself as mama or mommy and eventually got you to call her by those names as well. One day she suggested that the two of you begin sharing her bed instead of you sleeping on her pull-out couch like you’ve been.

“It might be good for you. Comforting. I know you get nightmares and it might be nice to have mommy to look out for you, isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes, mommy. Please let me sleep in your bed.”

You were adorably naive, oblivious to the alpha’s obvious attraction to you. To everyone else it seemed shameless, the older woman doting on you and constantly being with you. But you just took it as the affection you needed. Her being nice to you, almost too nice. You didn’t seriously think she wanted you like that. But then, you didn’t see the way Agatha stared when you weren’t paying attention, the way she watched you as you slept peacefully next to her. You didn’t know that the real reason Agatha would often shift her body when you cuddled up to her was so you wouldn’t feel her arousal. You had no idea how your scent drove her crazy, and never questioned how she would disappear into the bathroom increasingly often as your scent began to be a permanent fixture of the house. Agatha managed to control herself, knowing she would scare you off if she moved the relationship too fast. But this was killing her. She wanted you more than anything in the world.

Everything changed one day, when you were busy studying for finals. Your last semester you managed to pass, but your grades weren’t great. You desperately wanted to ace this semester and raise your gpa, and you were studying so hard that you forgot something vital.

You forgot to take your heat suppressants.

Shit.

You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t focus on studying anymore, that was for sure. And Agatha was away. Even if she was with you, would she want to be your alpha? Would she be uncomfortable? You knew Agatha would surely be able to tell.

And oh, she could tell. The second Agatha got home, she could smell it. You were in heat. It was time.

“You okay there, superstar? Need a little help?”

“I- I’m okay! Don’t worry about me Aggie…”

“No. Don’t do that,” Agatha said as she came over to you, “Stop pretending you don’t want me. I’ve been so patient, taking care of you and convincing you and making sure I don’t scare you. And now you need me, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think- I didn’t think you’d want to be with me…”

“What did you think this was then, little one? You didn’t think I wanted you? You didn’t think you’ve been driving me crazy? Of course you didn’t. Sweet, innocent thing.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This woman you loved and wanted felt the same way about you. She gently rested her hands on you and propped you up against some pillows. She felt you shaking.

“My poor little girl. Poor baby,” Agatha said, teasingly rubbing her hands on your inner thighs, covered in slick.

“Mommy… please…”

“Baby, I think it’s only fair that you feel what you do to me before I make you feel better. You’ve been such a tease. Feel, baby.”

She grabbed your hand and placed it on the crotch of her pants, her bulge apparent. You rubbed it a bit and she let out a low groan.

“That feels so fucking good baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

You whined, growing more impatient. Agatha spread your thighs and rubbed her clothed bulge against your aching pussy.

“Please, mommy! Take me, claim me! I need you to be my alpha, please. Please I want you mommy…”

“Aww, your begging is adorable, baby. Have you wanted me all this time? And you’ve never said anything?”

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think you… ugh…”

“God, you’re so fucking naive. You’re a pretty, sweet little omega. Why would you ever think the alpha you live with wouldn’t notice you? Wouldn’t be desperate to make you hers?”

You had never really thought of yourself that way. You didn’t think you were the type of omega that someone like Agatha would be so completely desperate for. But you were, and she was.

“Make me yours, Alpha. Please.”

Agatha took it slow at first, starting with one finger, as you whined and begged for more.

She added another finger, while teasing you.

“You’re such a sweet thing. You’ve never even had an alpha before have you? You’ve gone this long without being satisfied, just trying to take your heat suppressants and live life on your own?”

And another finger.

“Poor baby. That’s not what an Omega needs. Cute little Omegas like you need an Alpha to take care of them, to own them. You’ve shown me during all these months we’ve lived together that that’s what you need. You keep pretending to be my wife, cooking and cleaning and decorating. It’s adorable, and I knew exactly what it meant. Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me.”

“I want you to be my Alpha! I want you to own me!”

“That’s right, baby. Now that you’re all warmed up, let’s finally start this.” Agatha pulled her fingers out of you and you whined at the loss, but knew something better was coming as she began taking her clothes off. Under her shirt was a lacy black bra, and she unzipped her fly.

“Mommy needs to be inside you, baby. Are you ready?”

“Please, Mommy. Please, I can’t wait any longer! I need your pups inside me!”

“Oh you do, don’t you?” Said Agatha as she entered you, causing a loud, shaky moan of pure pleasure to fall out of you. “You want Mommy to knot you, to fill you up, trapped inside you until she’s satisfied?”

You nodded frantically and begged for more, harder, it felt so good to be filled up and stretched so thoroughly.

“You’re so big, Mommy! It’s so good, you feel so good!”

“I’m gonna stretch you out, little one, you’re gonna be my perfect little Omega fucktoy! Yes, that feels better than I imagined. I’m- baby- is it really okay if I knot you, if I give you a bite, I think I’m about to-“

“Please! Knot me! Claim me! I want to be yours forever, I want your pups, please…”

You felt Agatha growing even bigger inside of you and figured this must be her knot. You have never in your whole life felt a pleasure this intense, and it was intensified as Agatha bit down on your neck as she came inside of you. You gave her a matching bite as she continued to rut inside you as you finally came.

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine. I love you, my little angel. You’ll be so happy with me, I promise I’ll give you the best life.”

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uwingdispatch · 7 months

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From the Very First Night

Notes: Ezra Bridger/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader

CW: light discussion of past traumas/implied PTSD

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

The day you met Ezra Bridger you laughed when he told you his name.

“Forgive me,” you told him, “but you’re not the first man on Lothal to try and pick me up while claiming to be the guy in the mural on the wall outside.”

“Well that’s new,” he said. “I tell you my full government name and you think it’s a ruse. Maybe I should have used one of my old aliases.”

You’d been finishing up some work in what had come to be your favorite caf bar in town, a few blocks from your home on Lothal. And you were thinking about leaving when a man approached with a look in his eyes that, on another day, might have prompted you to pick up your comms and fake an emergency call from a friend.

But now he was reaching for his wallet, pulling out an ID. “You can check my chain code if you want. I didn’t realize I had so many doppelgängers.”

You quirked an eyebrow. None of the other “Ezras” you’d met had offered ID but, as soon as you saw it, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Okay,” you said. “This is embarrassing. ”

He smiled warmly as he put his wallet away. “To be fair, most of the stuff in town depicts me as a kid, and I didn’t have this handsome beard back then. But I can appreciate a skeptic.”

You put away your datapad, your instincts still split between staying where you were and running out the side door. Surprising yourself, you say, “But I’m not hearing you say that you're not trying to pick me up.”

“Well…maybe. That depends, I guess, on whether you mind if I join you.”

You nodded, and he sat opposite you, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling when he smiled. Up close, you could almost see the teenage boy from the mural. But his hair was longer, dark curls falling soft around his face, and he had a short beard that he did wear quite well.

You wondered if his nerves had caught up with him as he ran a hand through his hair, the late afternoon light coming in through the window catching a streak of silver at his temple.

“Sometimes it feels like I know everyone in this city. Or at least that everyone in this city feels like they know me.” he said. “But you’re new, aren’t you?”

“What gave me away?” you asked.

“Well, I could never forget such a lovely face.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I really am.”

There was something sincere about him, despite the flirtations. Something about the way he moved was honest. Welcoming. A server brought him a cup of caf and Ezra exchanged a few words with him in Rodian.

“So how long have you been in town?” He asked.

“About eight months,” you said. “I just hit this point where I felt like a fresh start might be nice. I don’t usually abandon ship when things get rough, but I thought maybe this one time…I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

He winked. “I used a Jedi mind trick.”

“Right,” you said, fairly certain he was kidding.

He shrugged. “And somehow you landed on Lothal.”

“I narrowed it down to the places where I’d be able to have my astromech serviced.”

“Must be a special astromech.”

“She’s a therapy droid.”

“Ah,” he said. “There are several mechanics in Capital City who work with that program.”

You were a bit taken aback at how unfazed he was at the mention of your therapy droid—issued by the New Republic. Similar programs had been available to injured veterans before, but the civilian program was newer. And he not only knew about the program, but didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you had a condition that required this kind of aid.

“We had a lot of options,” you said. “But Ceetoo and I decided Lothal seemed nice. So…I’m here.”

“Glad you are,” he said, both hands cupping his caf mug.

“You just met me and the first thing I did was call you a liar.”

“That’s what I like about you.”

A day would come when you’d realize what he meant then. That when you saw him you weren’t thinking about all the war stories, about the way Lothal had memorialized him when they’d thought he was dead. That he had a chance, at least for a moment, to show someone who he was without the burden of their assumptions and expectations.

You would also come to realize that from the first time Ezra smiled at you, there was no coming back. He had you, melting like chocolate in the palm of his hand. Because he saw you too, like no one else ever had before.

***

It’s late afternoon when C2-B35 comes in from the garage bleeping about the line at the pharmacy. She’d gone with Ezra to pick up your medication after getting your doctor to call in something new for your joint pain. Ezra could have gone by himself but, because of an incident early in your dating history when there’d been a mix-up, Ceetoo almost always insists on going with him—and he learned a long time ago not to fight a stubborn astromech.

Ezra finds you on the sofa where you’ve been trying to relax, the pain in your back making it hard to even lie still. He knows better by now than to tell you that you’ve been working too hard, that you should take more breaks. He knows to help you up, taking you gently into his arms and kissing your hair. By the time he hands you the tablets, you’re already feeling a bit of relief.

You take the medicine and let out a heavy sigh, resting your head on Ezra’s chest before whispering a thank you.

“I wish I could heal,” he says.

“We still don’t know if that kind of healing would help me,” you say. “Genetic condition.”

It’s a dance you dance every time you have a flare like this, bad enough that Ceetoo insists on contacting your doctor.

“I met a kid once who could do it. His dad said he could nullify the effects of a neurotoxin. Close a wound like it had never been there at all.”

“What did the kid say about it?”

“The kid doesn’t talk much. Still working through some things, I think.”

He gets quiet, and from the look in his eyes you know that he’s gone somewhere in his mind lost you can’t follow. It’s been 25 years since he last saw his adoptive father, the man who’d trained him in the Force, and there are some wounds that time never quite heals. Ezra is still working through some things, too.

“Hey,” you say. “Come back to me.”

He smiles, his eyes bright as he gently squeezes your arm. “I’m right here, sunshine.”

The medication starts to hit, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You reach for his face, the sharp line of his bearded jaw, the parallel scars on his left cheek. “Just as you are, you’re enough, Ezra. I don’t need a Jedi. I just need you.”

C2-B35 beeps irritably before retiring to her room, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast.

“Thank you, Ceetoo,” you call, with a promise that you’ll have a proper dinner.

“Is it helping?” Ezra asks. “The medicine?”

“It is,” you say. “Finally.”

“Have you really not eaten all day?”

Your face tells him everything.

“Right,” he says. “Dinner. I could make some quick dumplings? I think I froze some last time to fry later…I’d just have to make the sauce, really.”

He’s up and in the kitchen, pulling jars of spices out of the pantry, and you know he can already taste this comfort dish, and so can you.

So much of his life had been unstable after Ezra’s parents disappeared. He was on his own at such a young age, and then after a few short years in the Rebellion he ended up in exile on Peridea. Now, everything he had felt like a luxury to him: a permanent home, a pair of naughty indoor loth-cats, soft clothes he wore without consideration for armor. He’d told you about learning to cook when he came back to Lothal and, now that he has access to just about any ingredient for any dinner in the galaxy, he has every intention of not only enjoying the luxury of any hot meal he can dream up, but to make sure you enjoy food as well. When Ezra offers to cook, you never say no.

“Ezra?”

“What do you need, love?”

“I need you to kiss me.”

And he does, pulling you up from the sofa, taking your face in his hands as he presses his lips to yours, his neatly trimmed beard soft against your skin. You’re lacing your fingers through his dark curls when he pulls away to look right into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whisper.

And he replies, “I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

***

It was night before you left the caf bar and, at this realization, Ezra insisted on walking you home. “Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that,” he’d said. “I would understand. It’s just dark out and…”

And something about being with Ezra just made you feel safe. Even on that first night. You’d never let a strange man walk you home before—it was on its face a bad idea. But you’d stayed out much later than you normally would, and the idea of being alone felt far more unsafe than being with this charming man.

“I don’t normally do things like this,” you told him, the words coming out way too fast, just a block from your building.

“I figured,” he said. “For what it’s worth…I haven’t done anything like this in quite a while.

This did surprise you. “Walked someone home?”

There was a playful tone to his voice when he replied, “Approached a beautiful stranger in a caf bar.”

“You sure are bold for someone who doesn’t regularly…do whatever this is.”

“I just…” he started and paused, taking a breath. “This is going to sound like a line, but I just felt so drawn to you.”

“In the Force?”

“Maybe.”

“It does sound like a line,” you said. “But somehow I believe you. Jedi mind trick?”

“I’d never actually—”

“I know.”

You were both standing outside your door, a cool evening breeze in the air. You took all of him in—his firm chest beneath the deep v of his tunic, his dark hair catching on the wind, those blue eyes that seemed to see right past all of your walls. You’d met this man just a few hours ago but, beyond all reason, you so wanted to—

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, the words falling from his lips as if he hadn’t considered the consequences.

You nodded and he took a step closer, cupping your face in his hands, his nose brushing yours as he leaned in to press the most delicate kiss to your lips. And you felt his smile just as you felt that joy in yourself—a spark of something unlike anything you’d felt before. Maybe it was the Force, but every inch of your being wanted to be close to this man as you reached for his face, drawing him nearer, slipping a hand into his hair as the kiss deepened.

“I should go,” Ezra said, breathless into your ear.

“Why?” you asked.

“I have an appointment.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Then stay.”

Nervously you fumbled with your keys, dropping them not once but twice as you tried to open your door, Ezra eventually placing them steadily into your hand, and just the touch of his fingertips against your palm sent a pleasant shiver through you. Quickly you shooed an alarmed Ceetoo away as you entered. Unlike you, her memories included files from the war, and she recognized Ezra as soon as she saw him. Beeped out something along the lines of this one’s mostly trustworthy and I’m going to charge.

“Mostly?” Ezra said, almost in a whisper. “I wonder what she’s heard.”

You bite back a laugh. “I just need you to know I don’t normally do this either.”

“Okay.”

“I could make some tea.”

“Sure.”

But his arms were around you again and you both stumbled toward the sofa, falling into the cushions wrapped in each other like teenagers, wholly unworried about anything else in the galaxy.

That tea didn’t get made for hours. And it was nearly dawn when you retired to your bedroom and Ezra fell asleep on your sofa, your loth-cat sitting at his feet. When you woke, he was gone, a note left on your kitchen counter: Had to work this morning, but I hope you’ll call me. You traced your finger over the comms code left in scratchy handwriting below, wondering for a split second if this could be real. But if you closed your eyes you could still feel the sensation of his fingertips ghosting over your cheek when you’d handed him a blanket the night before. His voice when he’d whispered in your ear, “Sleep well, sunshine.”

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! They really gave us Hot!Ezra in the Ahsoka series and I'm just here to be a gremlin about it. I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.) In the meantime, I’m tagging my taglist as well as some folks who have been reblogging my fics. Love y’all!

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#middle-aged ezra bridger #ezra bridger #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x gn reader #ezrabridger x gn!reader #adult ezra bridger #ahsoka series #ahsoka series fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars rebels #and a loth-cat because I can #disabled reader #chronic illness #hurt/comfort #just a little domestic fluff #and a first meeting #comfort reads #the fluffiest fluff

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misc-obeyme · 9 months

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I really debated with myself about posting this lol. I don't often write headcanons from my own ideas because I get so many good requests for them. But I was feeling inspired to write this. It's pretty personal. I've been wanting to write some headcanons for a fat MC for a while, so here it is. I wrote something similar about beauty standards, but this is more specifically about weight.

They were getting wayyy too long, so this is just the three older brothers. I haven't written the others yet, but maybe I will. We'll see!

older brothers x fat GN!MC - NSFW MDNI

Warnings: discussion of weight and body image, suggestive content

Lucifer

He notices almost right away that you're insecure about your body. He can tell by the way you move, how you often avoid anything that you feel will call attention to parts of yourself that you don't like. He won't say anything to you about it at first. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, especially in the beginning. But in a quiet moment, away from the others, he will deliberately compliment the things he knows you struggle with. You'll probably catch on and tell him to stop, but that will only make him do it more.

Lucifer always pays close attention to you - he wants you to be happy and comfortable as much as possible. If you're in a relationship with him, he spends even more time around you and sees you in more vulnerable moments. He sees the way you might look in the mirror with a frown. The way you grab hold of your round belly or your thick thighs and sigh unhappily. He finds this very upsetting.

Unsurprisingly, he actually scolds you about it, but he softens it with kisses, touching you gently in every place that you seem to dislike. His scolding turns into whispers of how perfect you are, how much he loves every inch of you. He hates the way these words make you teary. He hates that you feel that way about yourself in any capacity. Don't you know that you're his? Do you not trust his judgment, MC?

Be careful what you say. If you continue to disagree, he's going to make sure you understand exactly how he feels. You're insecure about the size of your body? You're worried that it's too big, as if that even matters? You think you might be too heavy? Picks you up just to carry you to his bed. He's going to show you just how glorious that body of yours is by having you ride his cock so he can watch every part of you jiggle.

Mammon

Doesn't even realize that you might be struggling with this at first. You're perfect, everybody knows that, even you. It doesn't even cross his mind that you might not think about yourself the same way he does. But he figures it out. He starts to notice the way you act sometimes, the way you won't do anything too physical, like you're afraid of the way your body will look while you do it. Doesn't say anything, but might try to coax you into things. For example, he might grab your hands and get you to dance with him if he hears one of your favorite songs playing. Feels like he's succeeded if he's made you laugh.

It bothers him a lot, but he won't say anything, especially in the beginning. He doesn't like that you worry about something so unimportant. If you're in a relationship with him, though, it bothers him even more. Mammon knows that you feel like you're not good enough because of your body size. You may have even mentioned it briefly in passing. You aren't saying it to him directly, but he can still tell. And he doesn't like it at all.

Not going to beat around the bush. He calls you out on it. Asks you exactly what you're feeling, why you think he cares about your size. He wants you to be honest, so if you try to avoid the discussion, he won't let you. Gets unusually serious, even honest, tells you that you're everything to him, that he loves you more than anything. Maybe you can't feel that way about yourself, but you can at least trust him on this, right? He wouldn't lie to ya, MC. Not about this.

He's going to deliberately worship parts of you that you complain about. Stretch marks on your belly? He's peppering them with kisses. Don't like your love handles? He's holding onto them while thrusting into you slow and sweet. Worried that you're too heavy? He's absolutely going to make you sit on his face. No, you won't suffocate him. You'll be too distracted by the heat of his mouth unraveling you to worry about that.

Leviathan

Insecurity solidarity. He knows he's out of shape, but he's a shut in otaku! That's just how it goes! At first he doesn't realize how difficult it is for you. He's unaware of the way you've been treated by human society because of your weight. He figures it out the first time he wants to make a cosplay outfit for you. When you tell him very clearly that most things don't fit you, so if he wants you to wear them, they'll have to be altered first. The way you won't look at him when you say it. Then he's quick to reassure you. Don't worry about that, MC! He's really good at making outfits, so of course he'll be sure it's the right size for you. It'll fit perfectly!

He notices the way you react to fat people in media the two of you consume together. You point out how fat people are always the comedic relief or the villains. He never noticed this before, but you're right. Starts trying to find media where that isn't the case. Where there's some representation of your body type that's positive. Loves the way you grin at him when he shows them to you. Hates the way you sometimes cry when you actually experience the story.

In a relationship, Levi won't push you to talk about it in general, but he'll say something if he thinks you're worrying about it. He doesn't want you to think that your weight has an impact on how he feels about you. When you're getting down on yourself about it, he takes you swimming, just the two of you, in a secluded place. You're comfortable enough with him to wear a swimsuit, right? Holds your hands while you tread water. See how light you are? The water can hold you no problem and so can he.

Absolutely loves to bury his face in your soft body. Tummy, thighs, chest, anywhere there's rolls, he's snuggling in happily. Grips every part of you because he just loves the way you feel. Worried you won't fit in his bathtub? He's more than prepared to make you feel good even in a tight squeeze. But if you're uncomfortable, he has no problem bending you over his desk, too.

part two with the younger brothers | part three with the dateables

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me smut #misc naughty times #misc writes

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edenmemes · 11 months

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tloz: tears of the kingdom starters

WARNING: spoilers !

❝ there doesn’t seem to be any danger at the moment. ❞ ❝ history and legend sometimes blur together. ❞ ❝ i think you’ve caused quite a stir since your arrival here... ❞ ❝ i think you do look weird. so there, chew on that. ❞ ❝ i feel like i should apologize for dragging you into this mess. ❞ ❝ there’s no need to get so worked up. ❞ ❝ you allowed your heart to falter. that is the quickest way to fall on the battlefield. ❞ ❝ i’ll fight by your side till the very end. ❞ ❝ as with any leader, it is my duty to safeguard and protect my people. ❞ ❝ you are burdened with a mission of monumental importance. ❞ ❝ it was my hubris that set us on this path. ❞ ❝ i get it, you’re young --- you feel invincible. ❞ ❝ i thought you had harder bark on you than that. ❞ ❝ this little village used to be as quiet as a dusty old tomb. ❞ ❝ i don’t know who you are, but i’m sorry you have to see me like this. ❞ ❝ i feel a lot better after talking to you. ❞ ❝ you should have seen the look on your face. ❞ ❝ please, no need to look so petrified. ❞ ❝ you’re alone too, right? alone is good. ❞ ❝ you have disgusting, unwavering commitment to do ‘good’. ❞ ❝ i apologize. i keep getting lost in my thoughts. ❞ ❝ you’re finding this all a little scary, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ did you hear me singing? how embarrassing. ❞ ❝ you might want to make other plans...if you value your life. ❞ ❝ i suppose fate really wanted the two of us to run into each other again. ❞ ❝ you use your power to crush the weak...to serve evil. ❞ ❝ you will die knowing that you failed. ❞ ❝ you heard that strange voice too, right? ❞ ❝ this is a lot to learn all of a sudden, i know. ❞ ❝ did you know if you put your ear to a well, you can hear the wailing of the dead? ❞ ❝ i see the shadow of death upon your face. ❞ ❝ it seems skill and confidence is in short supply. ❞ ❝ that pride will be your downfall. ❞ ❝ i’ve gotta say. your stories are always so wild. ❞ ❝ did i manage to keep a smile on my face? ❞ ❝ you take for granted the godlike power you have in your hands. ❞ ❝ nevertheless, i can’t shake this strange tightness in my chest. ❞ ❝ why do i get the feeling we’re being watched? ❞ ❝ sorry you had to listen to me go on and on like that. ❞ ❝ anyway, i’m sorry for teasing you. ❞ ❝ uh...what’s with the face? ❞ ❝ what was it you wanted to discuss with me in private? ❞ ❝ were you looking for me? i’m honored! ❞ ❝ one cannot accomplish great feats without allies at one’s side. ❞ ❝ it’s important to help each other in times of need. ❞ ❝ i hate the way rain feels, but i don’t mind how it sounds. reminds me of waves crashing on the beach. ❞ ❝ you look distracted. what’s wrong? ❞ ❝ things with ‘legendary’ in the title are usually just stories. ❞ ❝ do you really think i hadn’t realized your deceit? ❞ ❝ what are you doing in a place like this? ❞ ❝ i never thought i’d see such a marvel with my very own eyes. ❞ ❝ thank goodness. if something had happened to you...i... ❞ ❝ how did you find this place? what cruel ploy are you plotting? ❞ ❝ it seems that the world is still in a wretched state. ❞ ❝ enough is enough! you are not acting like yourself! ❞ ❝ i can see right through you, whether you want me to or not. you are yielding to the fear of losing someone you love again. ❞ ❝ i can see it in your face. i don’t hold that special place in your heart. ❞ ❝ light and dark - one cannot exist without the other. ❞ ❝ do not get lost in the past. you must keep moving ever onward. ❞ ❝ it is best when those who care for each other are open and honest, even when it is difficult. ❞ ❝ push yourself too hard and you become your own worst enemy. ❞ ❝ look at all those scars...you must have fought a lot in your life. ❞ ❝ i am hesitant to admit it, but our success was thanks to your support. ❞ ❝ you look very pleased with yourself. ❞ ❝ i was giving in to my fear of once more losing someone i love. ❞ ❝ hold still, and don’t fret. i’ll take care of everything. this won’t hurt a bit. ❞ ❝ did you think i’d deceived you? perish the thought. ❞ ❝ i’m always here. should you ever have need of me, you need only ask. ❞ ❝ it’s amusing, isn’t it? our little back-and-forths. ❞ ❝ i just don’t want anyone to drop dead right in front of me. that’ll give me some nasty dreams. ❞ ❝ there it is. that inexplicable smirk upon your face. ❞ ❝ what were you praying for? long life? wealth? ❞ ❝ you get even cuter when you’re blushing. ❞ ❝ it is all right. i swear it. i am not going anywhere. ❞ ❝ i never thought...never dared dream...that i’d live to see the day we could all laugh together again like this. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen enough faces in this job that i can tell from looking at one if someone’s lying to me. ❞ ❝ you’ll come visit me again, right? ❞ ❝ i hope that ours will be a long and profitable relationship. ❞ ❝ this must be what the end of the world looks like. ❞ ❝ there’s nothing wrong with asking if you can help, you know. ❞ ❝ i knew there was a bright smile in there somewhere. ❞ ❝ let’s not pretend it won’t look absolutely dashing on you. ❞ ❝ no matter. you will not live to see another sunrise. ❞ ❝ you cannot hope to escape your fate. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i know i’m always throwing you into dangerous situations. ❞ ❝ hear my name and tremble in fear. ❞ ❝ it seems you have met with great danger once more. ❞ ❝ i actually...secretly followed you. ❞ ❝ there’s no shortage of strange happenings these days. ❞ ❝ anyone tell you it’s rude to stare? ❞ ❝ sitting here feeling sorry for myself won’t solve anything. ❞ ❝ at my age...well, very little surprises me. ❞ ❝ there are more mysteries waiting for us down here, i know it. ❞ ❝ i’m only telling you this because you seem like a trustworthy sort. ❞ ❝ we are bound by fate, you and i. ❞ ❝ i’d have preferred to stay with you a while longer. ❞ ❝ you will have to do something about that fear eventually. ❞ ❝ now i live for vengeance. ❞ ❝ so you’re our saviour, eh? i thought you’d be tougher looking. ❞ ❝ sorry about that. the sadness just gets to me sometimes. ❞ ❝ you were involved, weren’t you? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry, i’m just surprised. i mean, you don’t seem all that strong. ❞ ❝ did i...see what i thought i saw? ❞ ❝ just forget it. it’s not important. ❞ ❝ we cannot afford to stand still at a time such as this. it is imperative that we act. ❞ ❝ disappointed that i wasn’t shocked and aghast at the very sight of you? ❞ ❝ you must be pretty strong beneath the surface. ❞ ❝ what happened? is this your doing? ❞ ❝ i can see right through you, whether you want me to or not. ❞ ❝ just watching you move, i can tell you’re no ordinary person. ❞ ❝ whatever is troubling you? why are you hesitating so? ❞ ❝ good...evil...that’s the futile perspective of narrow-minded beings. ❞ ❝ are you here because you’ve heard about me? ❞ ❝ one difficulty has been overcome, and yet another has appeared in its wake. ❞ ❝ once i rest up, i’ll be hitting the road again. i’ve stayed here too long as it is. ❞ ❝ we have to train. we have to get stronger. we have to get ready for what’s next. ❞ ❝ is everyone all right? nobody’s injured? ❞ ❝ i’m the one who made such a mess of things, after all. ❞ ❝ it is a mighty opponent, certainly, but we must not falter. ❞ ❝ what’s with that look? you don’t think i can do it? ❞ ❝ what’s the matter? you can tell me, weirdly handsome dude. ❞ ❝ why is everybody so quick to believe the silliest things? ❞ ❝ i dearly wish that i could believe what you are saying. however, at present...i simply cannot do that. ❞ ❝ wow, listen to me. with every breath, i spew out brilliance. ❞ ❝ for a long time, i have been concerned that you are holding yourself back. ❞ ❝ i feel like you weren’t getting what i was going for there. way to kill the mood. ❞ ❝ can’t talk my way out of this one... ❞ ❝ this is normally where i’d give you a chance to respond, but i’d like to talk about me instead. ❞ ❝ never forget that we are all standing beneath the very same sun. the only distance that matters is the distance between our hearts. ❞ ❝ i lost my head a little there. i’m not too proud of the way i behaved. ❞ ❝ i’m sure an answer will come to you. wisdom takes time. ❞ ❝ i must truly be getting on in years to have allowed a mere monster to catch me off guard. ❞ ❝ you really don’t know your place, do you? ❞ ❝ do you really think we hadn’t realised your deceit? ❞ ❝ you heart is like a chicken’s egg --- easily given but easy to break. ❞ ❝ your wounds were severe...i am relieved to see you escape death. ❞ ❝ i’m told that your skill in swordplay is unmatched. ❞ ❝ what, you’ve never heard of me? ❞ ❝ where were you? you disappeared on me so suddenly. i was worried sick. ❞ ❝ oh my. i’m surprised to hear you say such a thing. ❞ ❝ i wonder how many times we’ve met in our past lives. ❞ ❝ so what if you don’t say what you really think. i won’t hold that against you. ❞ ❝ though our time together has been brief, i am so happy that we finally met. ❞ ❝ what’re you thinking, strolling into this war zone? ❞ ❝ you’ll keep your trap shut if you know what’s good for you. ❞ ❝ i sense a fierce battle ahead, the likes of which we have never before faced. ❞ ❝ i can feel the moonlight pouring down, cleansing my spirit. ❞ ❝ you’re not needed round here any more. ❞ ❝ that mystery just leads us straight into another. ❞ ❝ it is very difficult to rest peacefully when things like this happen. ❞ ❝ sometimes i’m so smart, i scare myself a little. ❞ ❝ ever try getting info out of a boulder? well, that boulder’s ME. ❞ ❝ i prefer to keep work and my personal time separate. ❞ ❝ sure, you look like a strong breeze could blow you over, but you are solid as stone. ❞ ❝ that pride will be your downfall. ❞ ❝ i’ve been abandoned by love...by luck...by happiness. ❞ ❝ at last...i have been waiting for you to arrive. ❞ ❝ i am stunned. i am in complete and utter awe with you. ❞ ❝ despite all we have endured, my feelings for you have never altered. they never shall. ❞ ❝ am i some sort of villain? or a force for good? ❞ ❝ i’m just fated to be unhappy. steer clear or you’ll catch my misfortune. ❞ ❝ you’re your own worst enemy sometimes. ❞ ❝ i will crush any opposition. i will rule. ❞ ❝ that’s an old dangerous road absolutely crawling with monsters. ❞ ❝ now that you’ve seen it, i can’t let you live. ❞ ❝ you look like a gentle soul who wouldn’t hurt anything. ❞ ❝ my body...my mind...everything. i’ll sacrifice it all to destroy you. ❞ ❝ i had almost forgotten the thrill of battle. that feeling as blood surges in my veins... ❞ ❝ i bet evil always scatters when you show up. ❞ ❝ it’s important to remember that luck and love aren’t things that run out. sometimes they just take the long way to get to you. ❞ ❝ i’m gonna make my ancestors proud today. ❞ ❝ this world should be shrouded in darkness, not bathed in insufferable light. ❞ ❝ it would have been more...satisfying to overcome a worthy foe. ❞ ❝ a mere mortal will not stand in my way. ❞ ❝ you’d walk away...from someone in need? ❞ ❝ you have proven yourself, and you no longer need me. ❞ ❝ i have some heartbreaking news to share. this will be tough to bear, but i ask that you stay strong. ❞ ❝ you might think of this as ‘hush money,’ and...yes. that’s what it is.. ❞ ❝ now, let’s both pretend like this never happened. ❞ ❝ you might think i’m a hopeless coward...and you wouldn’t be entirely wrong. ❞

#rp meme #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #totk spoilers #loz spoilers #tears of the kingdom spoilers

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mlmmetalhead · 2 years

Text

Steve Harrington with a boyfriend headcanons

Male reader.

I remember being annoyed by Steve in the first season and look where I am now.

Writing this while almost dying from the amount of cold milk I drank.

It was really hard for him to comprehend and accept his feelings towards a guy.

Your relationship started as really close, if not best friends.

I don't think he'd be able to accept his feelings towards a guy, unless they knew each other really well.

Really oblivious as well.

So even if you thought you were dropping obvious hints, they all went right over his head.

Cut him some slack, I don't think he ever even thought about a same-sex relationship.

When he started feeling funny about his friend, immediately rushed to Robin for advice.

If I'm being honest, she probably caught onto your attempts almost immediately after they started, so she was pleasantly relieved when Steve's braincells finally worked, as they do once in a while.

She pretended to hear about this for the first time, gave him some of the most obvious pieces of advice and called it a day.

Probably ended up embarrassing himself, because he thought you were supposed to come up with a different strategy to score a guy.

He tried, but ended up just turning back to his god awful pickup lines, just a little... Different.

"When I'm around you I can't think straight."

"... Are you okay?"

"I don't need a spoonful of sugar to swallow you."

"What the fuck-"

You end up just asking him out yourself, since every single one attemt of his fails miserably.

So happy it's unbelievable.

Literally jumping in his place with fists clenched.

Goes home and just runs around his bedroom until he gets tired.

Since it's still the 80s, you two can't have public dates and expression of PDA, which is why every single one of your dates is "just hanging out with a friend".

It takes time since he's fully used to call you his boyfriend, but he's really exited he can actually do that.

Will try so hard to set up a perfect date, but it'll all crumble down somehow in the end.

Truth to be told, it's his favourite kind of dates, memory wise.

There's a lot more to remember from a date that went wrong, then from a quiet, nice one.

Not to mention how much he likes it when you console and reassure him, he feels so much better in your arms.

Again, mostly because he isn't used to not needing to be seen as a "leader" of the relationship, it'll be really hard for Steve to ask for praise and reassurance when he needs it, and he needs a lot.

You might have to make the first move here, again.

A lot of work is required from you in this relationship, actually. Because Steve for the love of god, will not speak up about his problems himself.

Not at first, anyway.

But when you notice he's been off, when you ask him, and make him feel better, even if it's just something as simple as a cuddle session, he'll melt. Almost physically, he just loves you so much.

On to the more general stuff,

Sometimes, you just happened to tag along on Steve's and his kid's crew adventures.

Then, "sometimes" becomes "every time", and then, whenever you aren't there, someone always goes "Call Y/N!"

Were you asking for this? Hell no.

Are you complaining? Not really.

Every time this happens, Steve is going to apologize profusely every chance he gets, because he genuinely feels like you don't want to be there.

"Y/N, I'm so, so sorry, really, you can go the next chance you get, I promise it's okay no one's going to-"

"It's alright, babe, I'm not complaining."

"No, but you actually can go home, I promise I won't be-"

"I said it's okay, Steve, I am okay with this."

But this comes mostly from how much he cares for you, and doesn't want you hurt because of, what he feels like, is his responsibility.

Again, I somehow always end up with discussing serious matters.

I don't know where to put this hc but here, but he adores cats. Loves 'em.

If you have a cat, will not leave it alone whenever he comes over. He'll talk to it in a baby voice while cradling it like a child.

If you don't, you'll sometimes hear something along those lines:

"Y/N, can you move in with me and adopt a cat? Please?"

"Why can't you just adopt a cat on your own?"

"Because then it'll be your cat! Y'know, a special one."

If you're on a date and Steve spots a cat walking around, y'all are not leaving the location, until the cat will get fed up with his antics.

If you'll visit him while he's working shift at Scoops, will refuse to leave the counter even after you've made you order, staring at you with practical hearteyes, making it painfully obvious to everyone in the cafe.

He likes getting you little things.

Can get you a literal piece of junk he found somewhere at the mall, and will say:

"This reminded me of you."

With the most loving expression ever.

And you won't be able to reject it, goddamnit.

Overall, he's a lovesick dummy, take care of him, even if he wants to seem as the one in control, he really just needs a hug.

#x male reader #x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #🍷 mlmmetalhead

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magicalbats · 7 months

Text

Day 14: Orgasm Denial

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7925

Warnings: Afab!reader, (lots of) gendered language, social power dynamics, boss/employee, upperclass/lowerclass, tbh I’m not entirely sure how to tag some of this xmdkxkdnd, manual masturbation, dacryphilia, I wanted reader to be a bit of a bimbo in this one so if she seems stupid that’s why lol

A/N: sorry this one is late! I am officially behind on my prompts now but regardless of how long it takes I WILL be completing this Kinktober challenge! Unfortunately the real world demands attention sometimes but I’m not giving up 😤

⭐

Stamping down the urge to nervously fiddle with your hands, you clutch at the front of your arpon to keep them still and try very hard to focus on what the man in front of you is saying. The Palais Mermonia housed a great many regular faces, some of which you only saw from time to time and could not seem to commit to memory, and yet you’d been seeing mister Danon’s more and more often than anyone else’s recently. You didn’t understand why that would be though, and had at first written it off as mere coincidence. A simple matter of happenstance and nothing more.

But then it kept happening at an ever increasing frequency until it seemed like you were running into him almost every day now. Only then had it occurred to you, in a far off, distant sort of way, that he must have been making a concerted effort to talk with you like this. That was the only reasonable explanation for it that you could glean, because the one person you saw at the Palais with any amount of real regularity was the honorable Iudex himself and certainly not the man who’s job description you could not seem to recall. But that didn’t exactly explain why.

You wanted to understand what would make him seek you out like this, so you attentively listen to mister Danon when he speaks even though you sometimes find him a bit difficult to follow. He seemed like he was probably a good person and respectable enough, but he had a strange habit of jumping from topic to topic without much rhyme or reason that you could discern. One moment he would be talking to you about matters of work, about documents he needed to have signed or the latest gossip that had everyone all in a buzz, and the next … why, he would suddenly say something off hand about recreational activities to do in the city or places to dine, a book he’d read recently and even the types of food he fancied.

It was all very strange, and listening to him talk does not help in the slightest. In fact, it actually seems to make it worse.

You didn’t have the slightest idea why he would want to discuss upcoming stageplays with you nor why he should feel the need to announce that his favorite dish was aspic as if it was something that should be of great interest to you. It was all really quite strange.

“You see, if you take a few fish when they’re still flopping around and fresh,” He tells you, eagerly gesturing his way through an explanation you hadn’t asked for. “That will guarantee their taste and ensure your aspic comes out just divine. Like something straight from the Gods themselves, if you want the honest truth of it. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything more sumptuous!”

“A - ah,” You make a valid attempt to smile politely but it was difficult to keep up with him like this. What did you care for the precise steps to make such an unappetizing sounding dish?

“You know, if you were interested, cherie … I could make it for you to try, if you would like. Ah, what I mean is — it might be nice if we can sit down together and chat over a meal at my residence. Just the two of us.”

Your brows slowly crawl straight up to your hairline. “Oh.”

Before you can think to say anything else, an attention grabbing thud against the marble floor makes you spin around and a smile quickly overtakes your face.

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It is a pleasure to see you today.”

The kindly man sends you a slow, vaguely bemused half-smile. “Good afternoon, mademoiselle. Mister Danon. You looked like you were having a rather lively conversation just now. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important?”

“Of course not, monsieur. It was nothing important at all.” You beam up at him, eager and happy to hang on his every word no matter how benign or minuscule. Much to your surprise, though, he sends another unreadable look over your shoulder and when you turn back to Danon you’re more than a little surprised to find him slouched as if in defeat. Your eyebrows quickly make the climb up to your hairline again. “Mister Danon, are you alright? Goodness, you suddenly look quite unwell.”

“Yes, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about.” He waves off your concern, but it doesn’t escape your notice that he makes a concerted effort not to look directly at you now and instead turns his attention towards monsieur Neuvillette. “Forgive me, your honor. I’m afraid I must be going now. My break is almost over and my presence will be sorely missed if I fail to show up on time.”

The stately Iudex inclines his chin in a brief nod of acknowledgment. “You needn’t apologize, mister Danon. On behalf of all of Fontaine, thank you for the hard work you do.”

Giving monsieur Neuvillette a stiff bow, he turns to do the same to you. “Mademoiselle.”

You quickly bob a perplexed curtsy back. “Monsieur?”

Ignoring or perhaps not hearing the question in your voice, Danon pivots on his heel and makes a hasty retreat down the long corridor without so much as a backwards glance. You can’t seem to shake the feeling you’ve said or done something wrong though, and you watch him go with a tiny flutter of anxiety in your chest until another soft thud of monsieur Neuvillette’s cane on the marble floor pulls you around again.

With a small frown in place, you tip your head back to look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Monsieur Neuvillette?”

He offers you a small, gentle smile, no doubt meant to placate and soothe, though it does little in the way of good. “Please do not look so put out, mademoiselle. Would you like to accompany me to my office?”

Nodding, you fall into step beside him. You find yourself listlessly fiddling with your hands now, unable to stop it when it felt like you'd made some horrible faux pas, and they anxiously flit over your front to smooth out invisible wrinkles. What a strange and confusing situation to end up in, and with no idea how to navigate it either. It seemed like you’d done the exact opposite of what you’d initially set out to do … you didn’t understand it in the slightest.

“Forgive me for asking you such a strange question so suddenly, but … did I say something to offend mister Danon just now?”

Noising a quiet sound of consideration, monsieur Neuvillette thinks on that for a brief moment. “I am certainly no expert on the topic, mademoiselle, but if I am not mistaken I do believe mister Danon harbors a romantic interest in you. I believe he may have felt slighted when you said what you were discussing was of no importance, and he took it as a sign of rejection.”

You jerk to a sudden halt with an inelegant scuffle of your heels. “Romantic?” Eyes widening in mute horror, you feel your cheeks start to grow uncomfortably warm. That did make sense, you were more than just a little stunned to realize. The way he made the effort to find you wherever you were working, stop you and talk to you; the way he would casually sprinkle in bits and pieces of his personal life and subtly suggest food, diners, places to go and things to do … had he really been laying out suggestions this whole time hoping you would show an interest in him back? But — “But he never said … oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I had no idea!”

He looks at you with a soft, sympathetic smile where he’d stopped half a pace in front of you. “It is alright if you didn’t know. Situations like these can be difficult to — parse sometimes, and I do not think you acted with malicious intent. Come, let us continue this over a cup of tea.”

Embarrassed and roiling with a crushing sense of guilt, you slowly trail after the Iudex to his large, exquisitely furnished office where you quickly fall into your usual habit of preparing the chinaware while he situates himself on the ornate lounge. It is muscle memory alone that sees you through your task, motions practiced and subconscious after working at the Palais for so long, which comes as a great relief in that moment. You were far too preoccupied with this startling revelation to give the pouring of the tea much thought. Mister Danon’s intentions were shocking enough but, perhaps even more so, you’re surprised at your own lack of awareness on the matter.

You felt rather bad now, for listening to him so attentively and humoring the conversations he was always keen to share with you. Had he mistaken it for budding affection on your part? Have you unknowingly encouraged him to keep trying or, somehow worse, made him believe you were merely toying with his feelings this whole time? What a terrible thing to do to another person, intentionally or not.

Monsieur Neuvillette silently regards you when you bring the tea over on a silver tray but you can’t bring yourself to look at him while you set everything down on the low table in front of him. He was always nothing but kind to you despite your lower station of housekeeper, just as he was with all of the staff that kept the Palais functioning as it should. Everyone from the notarizers and the title clerks right down to even the janitors were treated with nothing but respect and dignity, and that very much included you. But you were a bit too ashamed, too guilty to meet his gaze right now, and you quickly shuffle back a polite distance once everything is laid out so you can further avoid his eyes.

A stretch of quiet settles over the room, and you have to try very hard not to start fiddling with your uniform again.

“Won’t you make yourself a cup and join me?” He ventures at last.

“I couldn’t, monsieur Neuvillette. But thank you.”

He seems to deliberate over something for a short beat before half turning his body on the lounge to look up at you. “I must apologize for prying like this but what about the situation with mister Danon has you so upset? If you didn’t know what his intentions were then you certainly cannot be held responsible for not acting accordingly.”

You hesitate to discuss this matter with him, well aware that it was improper and impolite to talk over such things with not only the aristocracy but also the man who was effectively your employer. It felt very much like an unspoken boundary that should not, under any circumstances, be crossed but … when you take in monsieur Neuvillette’s imploring expression your resolve starts to crumble. He was a wise and exceptionally astute figurehead who always treated every case laid out before him no matter how small or insignificant with the utmost care and consideration. Perhaps he would have some insight to share with you, or at least some advice.

“Well,” You finally relent, tipping your chin down to shyly regard your buckled shoes. “I’m aware that this might sound a little odd but I just feel so guilty about everything … I should have realized sooner why he kept seeking me out like he did. As silly as it is, I can’t help but feel like I tricked him somehow.”

“That is a silly thing, isn’t it?” He agrees in a soft, endlessly patient tone. “How could you have tricked someone if you weren’t aware of what they wanted from you? In the unlikely event that a case such as this were presented to me, I wouldn’t even be able to rule in favor of misrepresentation on the defendant’s part. You have to act with knowing and intention to be held accountable for trickery.”

You despondently mull that over for a long stretch. Logically, you knew what he was saying to be true and you, as everyone else in Fontaine, trusted his judgment implicitly. It wasn’t so much that you doubted him but, rather, your guilt was so great that it couldn’t accept this answer. The thought alone that you might have broken mister Danon’s heart after stringing him along for months almost brings tears to your eyes.

“Does that mean you wouldn’t deign to punish me for it?” It’s barely more than a whisper.

“No, not unconscionably. No one in their right mind would.”

It feels like you're withering on the spot. You didn’t understand it yourself, why you were so upset to hear this rather than relieved at finding you hadn’t broken any laws or regulations that would hold you accountable. Even if mister Danon were to try to file a suit against you to mend some of his bruised ego it sounded like he wouldn’t even have a case to stand on — and that was good.

So why did it feel as if you were skating by without making proper amends for the transgression?

“Mademoiselle?”

You finally bring your head up to look at him. “Do you think mister Danon will forgive me if I apologize?”

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression softens, taking on a truly remorseful edge. “I don’t know, little one. He might. I can’t see into the future any more than you can, but I think if it’s something that bothers you so much then it certainly wouldn’t hurt to talk to him about it.”

Blinking back a sudden deluge of tears, you take an impulsive step towards him with the tray clutched to your chest. “Oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I don’t know what to do! How can I possibly ameliorate my actions if he might not even accept my apology? I — I didn’t mean to lead him on!”

Very neatly, calmly, monsieur Neuvillette folds his gloved hands on his lap and studies you for an indeterminable amount of time with that closed and shuttered expression. You aren’t sure how many minutes pass when you’re a right mess inside, all your emotions kicked up into such a veritable whirlwind that it’s all you can do just to hold it together. But, at length, he eventually draws a careful breath.

“What I’m hearing is that your guilt over this matter will not be dissuaded until you feel appropriate action has been taken against you to right what is, in your mind, a very serious wrong, intentional or not. Is that correct?”

You blink, more than a little surprised at how concisely he’s grasped your thoughts on the matter. It almost sounds foolish when he puts it like that, in such blunt terms, but there is no denying the pang that resonates within you. “Yes, monsieur. I feel terrible for what I’ve done …”

He seems to hesitate, his brows drawing inward almost imperceptibly. “Guilt can function as its own form of punishment as well, and a very effective one at that. But you must understand something, mademoiselle. The law simply is not applicable here. There is no legal recourse and, therefore, no system in place to enforce any sort of repercussions against you.”

You take another step closer, feeling fervent and hot. “Then will you punish me, monsieur Neuvillette?”

Abruptly, he goes very still. “I am hardly in any position to mete out such discipline,” He says slowly, carefully. “And, far more importantly, I’m not quite sure what you would have me do. I don’t believe this situation would call for a monetary fine or even any corrective action on an employment level … and I’m certainly not going to spank you over my knee like a child.”

Flustered heat crawls up your neck to settle in your cheeks. You hate the way your knees grow weak and knobby at the thought of that, but you were decidedly in agreement with him. It would have been inappropriate for him to strike you in any capacity, least of all over something like this. Still, though …

“Isn’t there something to be done?”

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression settles back into that somber mask again, eyeing you for a drawn out beat before he finally issues a clipped sigh. Leaning back to recline against the lounge, he stiffly crosses his legs and once more settles his folded hands atop the bent knee. “Come here, little one. Stand next to me.”

Your feet almost don’t want to move from the spot but you force them to uproot so you can cautiously shuffle forward. You aren’t sure what to expect when your cotton stuffed head was such a mess, but all he does when you come up beside him is hold out an expectant hand. It takes you a moment to realize what he wants and you flush even hotter as you pass him the tray. Taking it from you, he sedately sets it aside on the cushion before fixing his attention on you once again.

“This is another topic in which I lack expertise but I might have something in mind that could satisfy your need for penance. However, I will not force or otherwise coerce you into it, and you will likewise be free to walk away at any time. Once you have decided you’ve made the appropriate dues for leading mister Danon on, as you put it, then this arrangement will end immediately. Is that agreeable to you?”

You bob your head in a quick nod. “Yes, monsieur Neuvillette. Thank you.”

Squaring his broad shoulders, the usually kindly disposition with which he carried himself outside of the courtroom fades and is replaced by the stern set of his mouth, the slight tension along his brow, to indicate that it is the Chief Justice sitting before you now. A chill runs up your spine at the change in him, so subtle yet unavoidably obvious, and a sharp look from pale lavender eyes stops you from saying anything. You’d never before been subjected to such a hard expression from him and you can’t quite stop yourself from sympathizing with whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves standing before him in court. It really wasn’t any wonder why he held the title of supreme judge in all of Fontaine when you saw him like this.

“Do not thank me yet, mademoiselle. If you would be so kind, please lift your skirt for me.”

Your spine stiffens with a tremor so powerful it very nearly bowls you over on the spot. Obediently, though, you reach down with numb hands to gather the full, flouncy material of your uniform and shyly hike it up along with the lace petticoat underneath.

“Higher.” He commands, intently observing the slow ascension of your skirts. “That’s it, up around your waist. Good.”

Sucking in a faltering breath, you sway unsteadily on your feet and try not to lose your nerve. The thought that you would be able to alleviate your guilt with this steels your resolve though, and your hands start to shake as your stockinged upper thighs are revealed to him, the simple garters holding them in place and, finally, your lace panties. Your face is on fire while you nudge everything up a little further to make sure it was satisfactory and to his liking despite still harboring some very real doubts about this in the back of your mind.

He did say he wasn’t going to spank you … didn’t he?

Casually, monsieur Neuvillette reaches out a hand to slip long, elegantly poised fingers into the space between your thighs and you suck in a sharp gasp when he nudges them up against your cunt just so. The touch is featherlight and barely there, but it makes more blood rush into your face to leave you rattled and a bit dizzy. But you don’t pull away from him as he takes his time petting over the apex of your fleshy mound and the slit running along your body, determined to see this through. Somehow having him touch you like this was not nearly as embarrassing as the way his expression doesn’t change while he does it, you’re quite ashamed to realize.

“Are you sensitive here?” He asks you softly, prompting you to swallow. Hard.

“I … I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

Quietly clicking his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette presses up against you a little more firmly, gloved fingertips digging into your defenseless clit to make you jolt and give a startled yelp. “You seem responsive enough to me. I only know of this particular activity in theory but … well, it doesn’t really matter. I believe we should have no problem at all using this method for your penance.”

“W - which is, monsieur?”

“I believe I’ve heard the people call this ‘edging’ before. It sounds rather dreadful, doesn’t it? Like some sort of barbaric torture technique.” Carefully observing your face, he pushes up even harder to grind tight, mean little circles against that sensitive pleasure button, and your eyes grow big as you stiltedly rock forward on your toes. “I suppose it could still be called that, depending on who you asked. The instigator or the receptee. I’m sure they would have drastically different opinions on the matter.”

Whimpering, you numbly readjust your hold on your skirt to make sure it stays up and out of his way while he’s doing this. Not that you were entirely sure you liked this specific method in terms of punishments when it was so obvious your body was eagerly responding to it – from the way your pussy clenches around nothing and starts to slick for him and even to the way your nipples stiffen against the inside of your shirt – but perhaps that was a good thing. Would you have really been able to say your penance was paid in full if this trial were not appropriately challenging?

“Wh … where?”

Blinking at the little mouse squeak noise, monsieur Neuvillette just keeps rubbing over you with that steady motion of his hand. “I beg your pardon?”

Trying valiantly to keep the fluster off of your face and failing miserably at it, you shyly avert your gaze. “I was just curious … where did you hear of this?”

“A reasonable question.” He relents, allowing the smallest note of humor to color his voice. “While it is true I don’t often partake in such crude conversations, it can be a little hard to avoid at times. Even here, in the Palais Mermonia. I believe they refer to it as ‘water cooler talk’.”

“Oh.” You’d overhead such things before too, now that you thought of it. The other women who worked at the Palais were more prone to gossip, joint complaints about their husbands or beaus, fawning over babies and first days of school, and academic achievements, while the men … they would sometimes change topics when they saw you coming but more than once you’d caught snippets of inappropriate conversations. A recent visit they’d had to a brothel or perhaps how they fantasized about doing certain things to their partners. You always felt mildly scandalized whenever it would happen, shocked that such discussions were being entertained at the Palais, and yet —

Letting out a slow, stuttering breath, you carefully glance down at yourself to look at monsieur Neuvillette’s hand disappearing between the soft pudge of your thighs. This was vastly more inappropriate than any ‘water cooler talk’ and that realization embarrasses you a great deal. Your cheeks feel a little hotter, your blood pumping harder, and you whine, very low in your throat. Was this really an acceptable form of punishment?

You think it probably is, because the shame that comes with it is potent and cloying, especially when your hips give a weak judder at what he’s doing. To think that the Iudex himself was touching you like this …

“Does that feel good, little one?”

Twitching at the sound of his voice, you give a stilted nod. “Yes, monsieur, thank you … but — but I don’t think I quite understand. Are punishments supposed to feel good?”

“Not necessarily, no. But this is only a part of it. Relax, sweet girl. I will ensure your guilt is appropriately mitigated in due time.”

You still don’t truly understand it, but you allow yourself to ease into it anyway. Relax into his touch. Slipping your eyes closed, you just take a moment to feel the sensation of him rubbing over your cunt. The press of his firm fingers pudges your lips to highlight how soft and pliable they are, the blunt tips of his gloves sinking into the slit. Even the thin layer of your panties is not enough to lessen the drag in any meaningful way, and it doesn’t seem to take long at all for you to start feeling sticky with arousal. It’s copious and excessive, almost implausibly so considering that he’d only touched you in this one specific spot thus far. Hardly at all.

You hadn’t thought you would be so easily excitable and yet the proof of it is in the way you tremble for him, the way your breathing gradually picks up to make your breasts heave under your blouse, and it quickly becomes difficult just to stay standing in place. You wanted to twist and pull away, give your drooling cunt even a moment's reprieve, but you don’t give in to the urge. That wasn’t what he’d agreed to, and you trusted his judgment …

So you stand there, trembling, while your stiff nipples cut up into your shirt in search of the same friction, and you try not to cry out. Your pussy tingles against his hand, the pressure it exerts so constant and steady that it rapidly starts to feel like the building pressure in you is reaching critical mass. Much sooner than you could have anticipated or guessed, it was as if your body was particularly weak for monsieur Neuvillette’s dutiful attention.

Softly wheezing when your legs buckle and threaten to give out, you subtly tip your pelvis further into his hand and it becomes that much more apparent how wet you really are. How stiff and engorged your clit had gotten. A violent shudder tears through you at the meaty, swollen drag of it under his fingers, head tipping back and. - -

He retracts his hand so suddenly it leaves you lurching in place. Raggedly gasping at the sudden loss, you turn wide, wild eyes on monsieur Neuvillette but he merely gives you that same somber expression as he interlaces his fingers on top of his bent knee once again, unfalteringly casual about it.

“That will be all for right now, mademoiselle. Thank you.”

You just gape at him, stunned and confused, with your skirts still hiked up around your waist like a shameless fool. “Wh - wha —“

A look of sympathy flashes across monsieur Neuvillette’s face. “This is the penance you wanted so badly. As many times as you like, I will bring you close to orgasm but I will not let you actually reach climax. It is the only suitable punishment I could think of for your specific … transgression.”

It takes a great deal of effort for you to do it, but you suck in a slow, shuddering breath to steady yourself. “I … I see. Thank you, monsieur. I understand now.”

“Very good. Now, run along. I’m sure you’ve got work to do elsewhere.”

He offers you a small smile that you think is meant to be reassuring but it does very little to distract from the throbbing ache in your cunt or calm your pounding heartbeat. Numbly, you drop your skirt and petticoat back into place and run your hands over it to smooth out the (now real, not imagined) wrinkles as you slowly make your way towards the door. It was like you were in a trance.

“And mademoiselle?”

You pause, turning to look back at him. “Yes, monsieur?”

“I would like to see you in my office again around noontime. Please do not forget and don’t be late.”

~*~

It hadn’t taken you long to realize just how insidious and cruel this strange brand of punishment truly was. You left his office such a sticky mess between the legs that even trying to clean yourself in the powder room did little good against the slick oozing out of you to stain your panties and make them stick to you, moulding against your cunt. It serves as a near constant reminder of how close you’d been to climax, how monsieur Neuvillette’s fingers had felt touching such an intimate part of your body, and how torturous it had felt to have that friction taken away so suddenly.

The wisdom of the Iudex impresses you even now though, for you did indeed see why he’d deemed this the only appropriate corrective measure that would fit the crime. You had unknowingly strung mister Danon along with your feminine charm and wiles, so it did indeed make sense to turn that back around on you in some way.

And although it does take a while, the distracting pulse in your cunt slowly fades into an afterthought in the back of your mind while you flit about the Palais tending to various tasks and seeing that everything was as it should be. At some point you even start to forget how your damp panties cling to you and that makes it much easier to view this trial as an easy obstacle to overcome. You would simply allow monsieur Neuvillette to carry out this task a handful of times, consider your self flagellation completed and then move on with your life.

Yes, this really was the best method of making your peace with the situation.

Comforted in your conviction, you return to monsieur Neuvillette’s office at the appointed time and issue a gentle rap at the door. His voice filters through without missing a beat, calling for you to come in, and you enter without reservation.

Perhaps you should have been more wary of underestimating him or this game you were playing but you think nothing of it as you make your way across the room to stand in front of his stately desk. He looks up at you with a brief smile that inexplicably makes your pulse thrum a little faster, and that surprises you slightly. Catches you off guard.

“Thank you for your punctuality, little one. I have a meeting scheduled after lunch is over so I wanted to tend to you before I got too busy.”

Self consciously, you avert your gaze. “Are you sure this is alright, monsieur? I don’t want you to go hungry because of me.”

“Nonsense. I planned accordingly and already ate before you came by.” Not lingering on the thought for very long, he takes a moment to straighten a stack of papers and neatly set them aside, out of the way. Nudging his high backed chair out from under the desk, he half turns and situates himself first before reclining against the backrest and finally looking up at you again. “Come. No need to feel shy.”

His words have the opposite effect of making you feel ten times more shy than you originally did, and you can feel yourself starting to blush again as you slowly round the desk to come up beside him. Standing just a scant few inches from him like this it occurs to you, suddenly, that you probably should have been a bit more apprehensive about returning to his chamber like this. He was going to touch you again … oh, perhaps you had not thought this through all the way.

“Here.” He says, drawing you back into the moment with a gentle pat against his leg. “Sit on my lap, little one. This should make things a bit easier for both of us.”

The flush that crawls up your face is an intense and overwhelming one. “M - monsieur, I — I couldn’t possibly be so presumptuous!”

“Is it presumptuous if I’m telling you to do it?”

Your spine stiffens at the slightly hardened tone in his voice, the edge that seems to cut across any of your weak excuses, and you quickly realize it is once again the Chief Justice sitting before you now, not the kindly monsieur Neuvillette. And he was looking at you very expectantly.

Swallowing your nerves, you reluctantly shuffle closer and turn to lower yourself onto his leg with a slow, stiff motion of your body. The firm pressure and warmth of him underneath you is almost enough to send you running from the room in hysterics, but before you can even think to change your mind his arm comes forward to secure itself around your middle. A surprised little yelp bursts out of you when he hauls you back against him to settle more firmly on his lap, completely disregarding how you tense up and shudder on top of him.

“There. Isn’t that much better?” He softly coos at you, tugging you back to lean against his front. Your face feels like it’s on fire but you don’t fight it, only whimpering quietly when he at last has you situated how he wants.

“M - monsieur …” You mewl into the suddenly statically charged office, unable to stop it, but he just quietly tuts at you as he turns his head to press his mouth against your hair.

“Now, now, you’re alright. I’ve got you. There isn’t any reason to be so nervous.” A violent tremor tears through you when you feel his lips purse against the side of your head in what you think must be a brief kiss — but you don’t get the chance to fully process the significance of that as he bends a little closer to put his mouth near your ear now. “Spread your legs for me, little one. Let me see you.”

Dizzy with the surge of white hot arousal that abruptly crashes into you with all the force of a sack of bricks, you give a weak, twitchy roll of your body against him and reach down with trembling hands to grab at your skirt. Slowly inching it up, you tip your chin down to watch with him as more and more of your thighs are revealed. The soft pudge around the tops of your stockings embarrasses you somewhat but not nearly as much as your panties do. Even from this angle you can see a dark, wet spot staining the crotch when you ease your legs open and you whimper softly at the sight of it.

“Goodness, you certainly soaked yourself earlier didn’t you? Poor thing,” With a quiet click of his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette reaches down past cotton and lace, and voluminous frills to slide his hand over your mound. Your breath hitches as you watch him do it, cupping your pussy with an almost apologetic squeeze, and you quickly turn your head away before you can say or do something else you’ll regret today.

You had to admit, it was very naive and shortsighted of you to consider this an easy penance just because it was not a constant, pressing concern at the forefront of your mind. How very foolish you had been.

“I was thinking about it earlier and I found myself quite curious,” He admits, still just holding your cunt in the palm of his hand. “Would it be too impolite of me to ask how often you usually pleasure yourself?”

Your chest dramatically heaves with the ragged gasp you suck in. “Monsieur Neuvillette, that’s … why would you ask me something like that?”

“Oh dear, I hope I haven’t offended you. That was not my intention, little one. Please forgive me.” A pause, while he turns his head to press his lips against your hair again. “It is just that you are so shy and your body is so sensitive. I wondered if perhaps you were too ashamed to take care of your own needs in this manner, that’s all. I’ve heard some women are.”

Lungs painfully constricting inside your chest, you stiffly lift your hands up to cover your face. Having the Iudex pet you so intimately was one thing, but discussing such matters with him was something else entirely!

“P - please forgive me, monsieur … you haven’t offended me it’s just — I have no experience with this sort of thing. I do it, sometimes. Pleasure myself like that. But I’ve never had anyone else t - touch me in that way before …”

“I see.”

Silence settles over the room for a long, drawn out stretch that soon starts to ride the line of being uncomfortable. You can just start to feel the sting of hot tears creeping through at the corners of your eyes when he gently pats your cunt with the flats of his fingers, startling a surprised noise out of you. Lowering your hands enough to see, you gape down at yourself as he somewhat possessively cups his hand around you again and gives the pudge of your labia a light squeeze.

“Such a silly thing you are.” He says against your head, displacing some of the little flyways there to send them dancing at your peripheral. You barely even notice it though, trembling at the faintest hint of a growl in his voice when it sets your guts to vibrate and seems to reverberate inside your chest cavity. You’d never heard him sound like that before but don’t get the chance to linger on that thought or question it, because he nuzzles further into you until it feels like he’s speaking directly into your ear now. “In the future you should try not to be so forthcoming with your body when it comes to men. Had I been any less honorable I could have all too easily taken advantage of you earlier and I could still do it now had I wanted to. I understand your desire for wrongs to be appropriately righted as that is the very foundation Fontaine was built on but this is not the way to go about it, mademoiselle.”

Your mouth warbles open but nothing comes out. All you can do is sit there, quaking on monsieur Neuvillette’s lap, while his fingers slip into one side of your panties and tugs them aside. The sight of your own cunt lips, puffy and flushed with arousal, surprises a faltering animal noise out of you that seems to echo endlessly inside the room. He pays it little mind though and simply curls his thumb to brush over your slit and the clitoris hiding within, smearing sticky slick with that fine leather glove and nudging your body into opening up to him. Legs twitching, you jerk your hands down to latch onto the arm locked around your middle, clutching at him even as you fitfully writhe against the sensation.

All at once your earlier arousal comes crashing back with a vengeance, temporarily forgotten but not near as snuffed out as you would have liked it to be. Your clit thrums under his stilted caress as if the climax you’d been close enough to taste but not able to experience had lain dormant this entire time while you ensured the water pitchers were filled, the snack tables stocked and the fireplaces were appropriately stoked wherever they were needed. It shocks you a great deal to realize how powerful your arousal truly is, and you buck your hips with a whiny moan that would have embarrassed you under better circumstances.

But better circumstances would not have found your cunt absolutely flooding with a deluge of fresh slick, nor would your clit have been swelling as eagerly as it does. You can feel the meaty, engorged drag of it under the soft petting of his thumb, almost idly drawing it back and forth with a total lack of urgency that makes your head spin perhaps even more so than the sharp stabs of pleasure do. You wanted to cum, and the knowledge that he would not permit you to just makes you want it even more.

“Please, monsieur —!”

Softly humming, he presses his thumb down a bit more firmly. “Are you already getting close, little one?”

You tip your head back to rest on his broad shoulder, panting up at the ceiling while shuddering waves of yet unrealized ecstasy crash over you, each somehow more powerful than the last. Instinctively, you inch your legs further apart even as they tremble fiercely for him and you think, idly, you probably would have vibrated right off him had he not been keeping you pinned against his front. You’re helpless to do anything except sensitively quake like this, and you do so with great enthusiasm.

“It is too much … I - I can’t take it!”

“You will.” He assures you, his voice soft again but it still carries that subtle hint of an edge underneath the surface. You didn’t understand it, why he would sound like that. What had brought it on. Was he even more displeased with you than he’d suggested?

The thought alone brings tears to your eyes almost as much as the cresting pleasure making you writhe on his lap, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to make him feel bad for causing you to cry when you were the one who had asked for this … but oh, it was so very hard not to give voice to the sobs threatening to wrack your body when it was all so much. The firm, weighty pressure of his thumb petting over your cunt, his other fingers idly teasing along your slit where they were still holding your panties aside. The smell of him, the taste of him lingering on the back of your tongue, his sturdy weight underneath you. It was all too much, and it felt like you were drowning in him.

“Let this be a lesson to you,” He continues, unconcerned with the way you twist against him and choke on stuttering gasps. “Even more pressing than the matter with mister Danon, I’m far more concerned about how easily you gave yourself up to a man to do with however he pleased for the sake of penance. Needless self sacrifice is not justice, sweet girl. I do hope you’ll remember that.”

Bending his head close once more, monsieur Neuvillette presses his mouth to your hammering pulse, and you mewl at the contact. It is not so much a kiss, you abruptly realize, as it is a not very subtle threat. Like there was a beast lurking beneath that kindly gentleman facade …

“Oh, monsieur, I — I’m going to —“

“No, you are not.” He cuts across you, practically hisses it against your jugular, and you nearly jolt right off him when the arm around your middle slides up to lock across your front at an angle. Suddenly he pinches your nipple through your shirt where it’s stiff and straining against cotton, giving it a mean little tweak to make your back bow. Trying to twist away proves futile and you yelp at the pleasure laced pain even as your cunt drools even more obscenely in response.

You felt like you were going crazy. Truly wild with potent, cloying arousal so powerful, so overwhelming, you can’t even process what’s happening to you while you shake right to the edge of your release.

And just like that, the hand on your pussy retreats, pulling away altogether to leave your panties shamelessly askew in favor of latching onto the swell of your inner thigh and keeping them spread when you frantically buck your hips in search of that fleeting touch. You heave and groan, reeling at the total loss of friction, but it is useless. Monsieur Neuvillette is an unyielding presence at your back no matter how earnestly you squirm against him, and his gloved fingers give your aching teat another cruel tug to further stave off your release.

You’re more than a bit horrified, in a delirious, hazy sort of way, to find that the pain serves its purpose in chasing away your climax enough to leave your pussy absolutely throbbing in the wake of this denial. No longer teetering right on the precipice, it seems to force you back a pace or two and all you can do is look on longingly at the promise of oblivion beyond with yearning and desperation. Wanting, but not allowed to have.

You truly had underestimated just how tortuous this punishment technique could really be …

Through the murky fever you feel monsieur Neuvillette brush his mouth across your cheek to press at the corner of your eye, effectively drawing you out of your groaning stupor. Sucking in a ragged gasp, you clutch at his arm all the tighter and try in vain to lean away.

“M - monsieur?”

“You’re crying.”

Noising a soft sound of confusion, you blearily blink your eyes open to realize that they were in fact clouded with a swimming sheen of tears making them burn. Sniffling sadly, you start to reach up to swipe them away in shame but the hand on your breast comes up quicker and locks under your jaw, physically turning your face towards him.

Laying spread out on top of him with your head forced back against his shoulder, you look up at monsieur Neuvillette from just a scant few millimeters away. His expression is still somber and unreadable but … the glint in his pale lilac eyes makes your chest hitch. It wasn’t hunger the same way you’d on occasion caught other men looking at you — men like mister Danon, you realize in retrospect — but it is a hunger all the same. Something old and primal, from a long forgotten dark age that inspires a slow curling tendril of uncertainty low in your gut. You don’t think it’s lust per se, not in the usual sense, but a kind of lust, perhaps. One you didn’t have a name for.

One you weren’t sure if you wanted to learn the true nature of.

After silently studying you for a long moment, he finally drags his gaze from your face to regard the tall, stately clock standing sentry in the office, the only witness to this lurid state of affairs. “I still have some time before my meeting. I think we should be able to squeeze in one more session before I have to go.”

You very nearly give voice to a hysterical, broken sob, just barely managing to choke it back with a frazzled whine instead. “Monsieur —“

“Hush, little one.” He murmurs and leans close again, stunned surprise washing over you when his tongue flicks out to lick up a wet tear from under your eye. You gape at him in shocked disbelief when he pulls back enough to look at you again, leaving behind residual moisture on your skin, but he doesn’t even look the least bit put out or sorry for it. Like it was a perfectly normal thing for him to be doing. Perhaps it was. You had no idea – and if he recognizes your surprised reaction for what it is, he certainly doesn’t show it. “You have nothing to fear from me. I will ensure your punishment is properly administered and then we shall further discuss your other behaviors in greater detail. Rest assured, you will be appropriately corrected in time. I will personally see to that myself.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #self insert bullshit

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strangelittlestories · 2 months

Text

It was somewhere around a year into the apocalypse when the Lion and the Lamb found what they had long been looking for: a very remote (and thus largely unpillaged) and *very fancy* hotel.

(Lion and Lamb were the names I knew them by, at least. We met at a wedding - always a strange event in the end times - and they did not give me their true names. This was, honestly, a wise move given the kind of entity I am. But they did gift me with this anecdote, which perhaps reveals more about them than a simple name could.)

After scouting the place out - and bloodily evicting a small pack of ghouls that had gotten separated from the horde and (hopelessly lost) wandered into the hotel spa - the pair climbed the many steps to the building’s palatial penthouse suite.

There, they found many wondrous treasures. Fluffy bathrobes. Tiny sachets of shampoo. A bed so large it should probably have been illegal.

And, of course, a little peace and quiet.

---

“What do you think the thread count on these sheets are?” Asked Lamb.

“Do I look like the kind of person who understands thread count?” Lion was already lying in the bed, starfishing her limbs out across the pillowy expanse.

“It’s just…this might be the softest thing I’ve ever felt. This has got to be four hundred. Maybe even five?” Lamb’s brow wrinkled for a moment. “Hey - would you mind if I take this with us when we leave?”

“What’s the matter? You already afraid to go back to scratchy blankets and sleeping bags?” Lion grinned, while twisting the top off a little bottle of Jack Daniels. A small pile of tiny liquor bottles lay beside her; across the room, her axe rested against the sundered mini bar.

“No, I uh-” Lamb looked sheepish. “I was thinking it’d make for good bandages.”

Lion paused with the mini bottle of Jack on her lips. She made steady eye contact with Lamb as she downed the bottle, then threw it casually to one side.

“You want to take the sheets off this bed.” She sat up and calmly took hold of Lamb’s arm, pulling him close. “This bed that may as well be made of clouds. These covers that were probably hand spun by gods or artisanal Shoreditch arseholes. This bed that may be the last gift from a now-absent god, and which - by the way - we have not even hugged in yet…”

“Well, when you put it like that-”

“You want to take the sheets off this bed - this bed that is larger than some countries - and tear it up for stab wounds and bullet holes?”

“I just-”

At this point, Lion yanked on Lamb’s arm and he tumbled awkwardly into the aforementioned bed, rolling over Lion and landing nestled snugly in the crook of her shoulder. It was somewhere between a cuddle and a headlock and, if we’re being honest, Lamb really didn’t mind that.

Some time passed. We need not discuss how it passed, let us simply say that it did and that, for the Lion and the Lamb, its passage was necessary, healing and only mildly bruising.

Lamb sighed happily and said:

“I just thought. Y’know, about the bandages. That … well, dangerous shit happens to us so often. It’s really easy to get used to being scared. To being hurt. So I figured it might be nice, y’know, if when we were patching each other up, we had something soft to do it with. So that even when it hurts the most, we can *practise* being soft. And it’d be something that reminded us of this. This perfect day we stole for ourselves. A happy memory to literally bind up the hurt with.” Lamb looked shyly up at Lion. “It probably sounds silly. Or soppy. But, well. I am those things sometimes.”

Lion leant down and gently and carefully kissed Lamb on the forehead.

“Okay.” She said, in a voice roaring with love. “We can destroy the sheets when we’re done.”

“Thanks.” Said Lamb. “I knew you’d cotton on.”

And, even despite the pun, Lion could not have been happier.

#writing #microfiction #flash fiction #short story #love stories for the end times #love story #honestly even writing this made me make little d'awwww sounds so I really hope y'all like it

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gayoung-lover · 3 months

Text

baby, you drive me crazy ๋࣭⭑ chocol

your relationship with gayoung is a secret, given that she happened to be your best friend's ex-girlfriend—sometimes, something that's wrong feels better, doesn't it?

| cw: suggestive, reader is a bad friend LOL | wc: 1.5 k 🫶 | things in italics are flashbacks!! | also, this is inspired by 'que onda' by fuerza regida, i don't like corridos, but the lyrics are sooooo good 😭

Adrenaline coursed through your veins every time you went on a date with Gayoung—a forbidden thrill. Bada trusted you, and you, in return, exploited it. She was well aware of Gayoung's feelings for you, pleading with you—her best friend—not to get involved with her. Despite her pleas, there you were, seated in her black luxury car, on the way to her apartment.

Bada was consistently curious about the mysterious girl featured in your Instagram stories. You shared photos where only her hands were visible or showing the expensive gifts she got you—however, there was a noticeable absence of her face or any identifiable details. Each time Bada asked, you only said you wanted to keep it a secret, fueling her suspicions that you might be involved with someone with a girlfriend or, worse, married. Despite her attempts to discuss it with you, you only insisted that this girl preferred a private life.

She wanted to taste me—so I satisfied her craving.

Initially, Gayoung was upfront about her desire—a one-night stand. She confessed through a simple text message that whenever she went to your and Bada's apartment, she only thought of you—craving to kiss, touch, and hold you. Drawn to her attractiveness, you complied.

gayoung: I know this might be weird and you might hate me or whatever because I broke up with Bada, but I wanted to be honest about something. [1:03 a.m]

y/n: huh? what? [1:05 a.m]

gayoung: Every time I went to Bada's place, I couldn't take my eyes off you.

gayoung: You're such a gorgeous girl, you're like a pretty doll.

gayoung: And fuckkk… I just wanted to kiss your pretty lips so badly, to wrap my arms around you, to make you feel good. [1:07 a.m]

y/n: are you drunk? or are you actually being honest? [1:08 a.m]

gayoung: Might be a bit drunk but, do you want me to prove it, princess? [1:08 a.m]

y/n: gayoung don't call me princess fuckk

y/n: this feels so wrong… bada's going to hate me

y/n but, how can you prove it? [1:09 a.m]

However, what started as just a one-time thing transformed into something monthly, then a weekly occurrence, and eventually, a daily routine. The dynamics shifted beyond physical intimacy; it evolved into something deeper. Now, you spend more time with her than in your apartment, and the relationship has transcended the purely sexual—both of you already have said, 'I love you.'

How about we both turn off our phones at night?

Bada's constant concern for your well-being led her to suggest downloading an app that allows you to share your locations. While this was a safety measure, it suddenly became inconvenient for you, especially when you were at Gayoung's apartment. Initially, you tried turning off your location or even your phone, but Bada quickly received notifications about it, prompting questions you did not want to answer.

bada <3: why is your location off?

bada <3: is everything okay?

bada <3: do you need something? [11:43 p.m]

y/n: my battery is dying and if i turn off my location it lasts longer

y/n: i’m still at the club, dw bada :) [11:45 p.m]

However, you devised a workaround by turning off your mobile data. This move guaranteed that your location remained fixed at the last place you connected to the internet. So, when you were at a restaurant or a bar on your way to Gayoung's place, turning off your data made it appear as if you were somewhere else if Bada happened to check.

Do your make-up again, so she doesn't find out what we did.

Gayoung stocked her apartment with everything you could need for touch-ups—makeup, hair products, and perfume. That way, you could maintain an impeccable appearance when you went to your apartment, concealing any signs that you did something with someone. Despite you insisting on bringing your own makeup, Gayoung insisted on spoiling you.

"Baby, go ahead and choose whatever you like." Gayoung smiled at you as you walked through the makeup store. "Anything, okay?" She emphasized.

"But, the stuff I like tends to be expensive." You casually grabbed a liquid lipstick and a face powder from the display. "This should do; I just need to touch up my lipstick and powder."

You placed them in the basket, and Gayoung let out a sigh. "I said, pick whatever you want. Price doesn't matter."

Surprised, you looked at her and hesitated. "I don't want you spending a fortune on me-"

She cut you off, raising an eyebrow. "Princess, grab whatever you want. Let me spoil you."

Baby, delete those photos that we took yesterday.

You and Gayoung always took photos together—where you could clearly see who she was, although these photos never made it to any social media posts. You were her muse, her precious girl, and whether it was at the club, having dinner, or at her apartment, she could not resist taking pictures of you. At times, these photos would be too risqué—like right now.

"That's perfect, doll." Gayoung murmured as you struck a pose, reclining on her bed. "Fuck, you're stunning, you know that?"

"I'm aware." You smiled at Gayoung's camera. "You're the one who makes me feel pretty."

Shifting positions, you rested your stomach on her bed, tilting your head slightly while adjusting your hair. "I'm glad I'm the only one who gets to see you like this." She said—her voice low and husky.

Your eyes, your skin.

Unable to resist any longer, Gayoung approached you, gently cupping your face as you sat on the bed, and she stood up. With doe-like eyes, you gazed up at her—the innocence reflected in them driving Gayoung wild. She kissed your forehead, her lips lingering there for a few seconds.

"Do you know how much I love you?" Gayoung's forehead now rested against yours.

"I do." You replied. "I love you too, Gayoung."

"But not as much as I do." She lowered her face, bringing her lips close to your ear, her breath brushing against your skin. "I love everything about you. I don't even know why I was with Bada when I could have been with you from the start, doll." She chuckled dryly.

While another best friend might have killed her for saying those words, you blushed hearing Gayoung say them. "Oh, really? Tell me what you love about me."

Turning her head to the left, she kissed your cheek. "Your eyes, your skin, your personality, your beautiful body." Gayoung listed. Lifting her face, she looked down at you, placing her thumb over your lips, prompting them to part. "But your lips are my favorite thing about you."

Drawing closer, your lips brushed against each other—you smiled against her lips. "Gayoung-"

She silenced you by pressing her lips against yours, your hands instinctively locking behind her neck, pulling her even closer to your body.

What’s going on?

While you and Gayoung kissed, your phone incessantly rang, prompting a frustrated sigh against her lips. "What the fuck? Who's calling me?" You rolled your eyes.

Gayoung patted your back. "What if it's something important, doll?"

"Yeah, you're right." You admitted, reaching for your phone only to discover 15+ missed calls from Bada. "It's Bada."

She raised her eyebrows. "What does she want?"

You called her back, concerned that it might be an emergency, but she did not answer. "She won't pick up, fuck..." You muttered.

"Do you want to go back to your apartment?" Gayoung asked, holding your hand trying to calm you.

Attempting to call Bada once more, you nodded. "Yes." You whispered, but just as you were about to get up from the bed, your phone vibrated with a text from Bada.

Answer her messages, tell her what's up.

bada <3: what the fuck is this y/n

bada <3: bada <3 sent a photo [10:56 p.m]

Attached to the message was a screenshot of your exact location, and it dawned on you that you had forgotten to turn off your mobile data. The undeniable realization that you fucked up hit you—you showed your phone to Gayoung, who responded with a crooked smile, chuckling at the situation.

“I guess one day she had to find out.” She said and you nodded.

bada <3: all this time you had been dating the person “who liked living their life privately” you’ve been fucking my ex?

bada <3: i can’t believe i trusted you wtf, i don’t want your shit in the apartment, come pick it up tomorrow when i’m not around

bada <3: hope you have fun ig don’t even think about apologizing or anything i fucking hate you [10:59 p.m]

Gayoung took your phone from your hands, opening the option to send a video. "Come here, princess."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you followed her instructions, moving closer even though she was recording. Holding the phone just right to capture you kissing, Gayoung separated, smirking at the camera before sending the video to Bada.

"That should tell her what's up." She said, winking at you.

#jo gayoung #chocol #chocol swf2 #chocol x reader #wlw #street woman fighter 2

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