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bruisedboys · 1 year

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can I request the first time shy!reader spends the night at eddie’s? maybe she falls asleep during movie night and he just doesn’t have the heart to wake her up? lots of snuggles ensue?!

ohmygosh thank you so much for this adorable req I love u so much. hope this is what u wanted angel!

shy!fem!reader 1.3k words

Eddie comes back from the bathroom and into the living room, only to stop dead in the doorway.

You’ve fallen asleep. On his couch. Well, technically his and Wayne’s, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you’re fast asleep and you look so lovely and peaceful and Eddie actually had to grab the doorframe to stop himself from falling over.

To be trusted so much that you’ve allowed yourself to fall asleep at his place feels like a big step to Eddie. You’re a shy girl, always cautious, overly polite. Eddie remembers the first time you’d been over to his trailer, you were so quiet, so scared of doing or saying something wrong.

And now look at you.

Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He practically skips the rest of the way to the couch, desperate to be close to you again, a newfound fondness for you burning in his chest that can only be cured by sitting as close as humanly possible to you. He sits down in the space he’d left, his thigh pressed to yours. Your body has tipped away from him, your head resting on a stack of cushions balanced on the arm of the couch.

The credits of the movie you’d been watching with him play on, but Eddie’s too busy looking at you, drinking up every inch of you. Your face, squished into the cushion, the TV light painting you green and red and blue. Your t-shirt sleeve riding up your shoulder. Eddie imagines your skin is as warm and soft as it looks. He longs to touch you and has an excuse when the movie ends. He knows you’ll want to be woken up.

His hand finds your shoulder and his fingers slip beneath your sleeve.

“Y/N, sweetheart.” Eddie squeezes you gently, his thumb pressed to your shoulder. “Wake up.”

It doesn’t take much for you to wake. Soon you’re blinking awake slowly, tearing your tired eyes apart, and it’s maybe the cutest thing you’ve done ever. Eddie feels so much fondness for you it actually hurts.

“Hey,” he says gently. He shuffles closer so he can get his torso in front of yours, hoping to block the TV lights that he’ll know will be blinding for you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep.”

You blink at him. “I did?” You ask, all raspy and sleepy.

Eddie chuckles and resists the urge to kiss you all over your cute face. “Yeah, you did. Was I boring you?”

Your expression goes from sleepy to mortified so quickly it’s alarming.

“No!” You say quickly, shaking your head. “No, I—“

Eddie’s laugh drowns out the rest of your words, and you stop fretting when you realise he’s teasing.

“I’m messing with you, sweet girl.” He slides his hand up to your collar and presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth. “You must’ve been tired, huh?”

A yawn takes over your features right on queue. Your eyes scrunch up and your mouth opens wide and Eddie can’t stop smiling. You’re so cute.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Eddie asks, his hand still pressed to your face. He’s secretly hoping you’ll say no. He’d like you to stay here forever, thank you very much. “Or … you could stay the night here? Only if you want, of course.”

You blink up at Eddie owlishly. He’s never asked you to stay the night. Never suggested it, because he’s afraid of scaring you off. He’s afraid now, waiting for your answer, that you’ll run away and never come back. But you smile. You smile, and his heart does a backflip.

“Um. Okay,” you say, quiet and unsure but that sweet smile stays put. “I think I’ll stay, if that’s okay with you.”

Eddie melts like a popsicle. He brings his other hand to your jaw and cups your pretty, sleepy face.

“Of course it’s okay, angel,” he says, soft and earnest all at once. His chest feels tight. “You can stay whenever you like, you know.”

Your smile grows. Eddie’s heart aches tenfold. “I know.”

Eddie nods. He’s feeling so much for you in this moment that it’s hard to do anything, let alone speak. Instead he pulls away from you, stands up and holds his hand out. You take it unabashedly.

“Come on then,” he says, finally finding his words as he pulls you up to stand. “I’ll find you some pyjamas, hm?”

Ten minutes later Eddie comes back from the shower and finds you in his bed, dressed in a pair of his red and black checkered pyjama pants and one of his shirts. Your eyes are half closed.

You look so lovely that Eddie feels, for the second time tonight, like he’s been punched in the stomach. His breath hitches and his heart goes haywire.

“Hi,” he says softly, dropping the towel he’d been scrubbing his hair with over the back of his desk chair. “You okay?”

You nod. “M’okay,” you mumble quietly. “Just tired.”

Eddie rounds his bed til he’s on the side you’re on, kneeling next to the bed so he can take your bicep in his hand, his palm kneading at the soft muscle. You look seconds away from falling asleep.

“Poor girl,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Then, to you, “Do you want me to sleep on the couch? ‘Cos I will, if you’re not comfortable with us both sleeping in the bed.”

You wrench your eyes open and quit looking tired to instead look confused and mildly put out.

“What?” You ask, exhaustion tugging at your words and making them sluggish and slurred. “No, don’t sleep on the couch.”

Eddie grins like mad. He squeezes your bicep, his fingers pushing beneath your t-shirt sleeve. “You want me to sleep in the bed? With you?”

You shut you eyes again and nod into your pillow. Eddie can’t stop smiling.

“Okay, then.”

He gives your arm one last squeeze and then leaps up to switch the light off. The room gets swallowed by darkness. Eddie can just make out your figure where you’re lying in his bed, the bump of your hip, the curve of your legs.

He slides into bed next to you and it feels like it’s never felt before. Even though it’s his same, regular old bed that he sleeps in every night, nothing about this is regular. Nothing about this doesn’t make his heart race and his skin tingle and his stomach ache with fondness sweet as sugar.

He shuffles closer to you and his arm touches your arm.

“Are you okay?” He asks you. You’re awfully quiet. Well, quieter than usual. He knows it’s because you’re tired, and maybe because this whole thing is probably making you about as nervous as it’s making him, if not more.

You don’t answer but you do press your arm further into Eddie’s. He curls his pinky around yours in the dark.

“Are you nervous?” He whispers, staring at the dark roof, feeling quite a bit nervous himself.

He feels rather than hears you rolling over, and when he tears his eyes away from the roof to look at you, he sees you’ve rolled onto your side to look at him.

“A bit,” you whisper back. Your pinky hooks tighter around his.

“Me too,” Eddie admits. “I’ve never had a girl sleep over before.”

You make a sound that Eddie thinks is a tired, quiet laugh. He can hear your smile when you say, “Really?”

Eddie nods though you probably can’t see him. He slides closer and takes your hand, his fingers lacing through yours. You’re so close you could lay your head on his chest if you wanted. He hopes you will eventually.

“Yeah, really,” he says. He dips his head to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep now, okay?”

You hum something incoherent. You’re asleep within the next minute, your head lolling onto Eddie’s shoulder within the next two.

Eddie lies awake for far longer, wondering how in the world he got this damn lucky.

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ravenromanova · 6 months

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Come back to me Pt.1

Pairings: 616 Wanda x Vision, 616 Wanda x female reader, 838 Wanda x female reader

Warnings: None really for this part.

Masterlist - Send me requests!!!

This fic came from this request!!! enjoy :) I also have no idea how many chapters i’m gonna write so just sit back and enjoy :)

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be with you not him. Watching her hands all over him was like a knife to the gut. You kept wondering how you got here, how he was better for her than you. The world felt so much darker as you watch them cuddle up together on the couch.

*Flashback to a few days ago*

You were laying in your bed when you heard a soft knock on the door. You called out for whoever it was to come in and when the door opened it revealed a distressed looking Wanda. She shut the door behind her before she sat on the edge of your bed.

“I uh need to tell you something” Her voice was soft but hoarse as she spoke which made you nervous.

“You can tell me anything Wands” Wanda smiled at your words but she still didn’t know how to tell you what she needed to.

“Well uh. Vision asked me to be his girlfriend” Your eyes went wide at her words. “And i said yes” That was the moment you felt your heart break and a lump form in your throat.

“That’s great Wands! I’m so happy for you!” You lie as you put on your best happy face. Wanda felt like you were upset but she wasn’t going to push you to talk.

Your mind was going a million miles an hour and your heart was racing. The two of you talked for another few minutes before she left your room and you broke down.

That night you skipped out on dinner which Wanda made and opted for a mental breakdown instead.

*End flashback*

And that brings us to a few days ago. Team movie night. Aka the night you dread the most because you had to watch Wanda and Vison be all lovey dovey. You thought that after a few days the feeling of hurt and rejection would go away but it didn’t. If anything your heart broke more anytime you saw her or them together.

So in the days after Wanda and Vision were official you took a major step back and distanced yourself from Wanda. It took her by surprise when you told her you weren’t in the mood for your weekly movie night on tuesday. She didn’t understand why you were being so distant so she decided to corner you in the training room for answers.

Wanda walked into the training room determined to get answers.

“Y/n” Her voice made you take a step back from the punching bag and make eye contact with her.

“Yea Wands?” Your voice was gravelly and hoarse causing a shiver to go down her spine.

“Why are you avoiding me” Your brows furrowed at her bluntness and you stood there confused.

“I-I’m not” You said trying to defend yourself. She scoffed a little a crossed her arms over her chest.

“Really? Because you’ve turned me down for our movie night, you started training with Nat instead of me, you don’t sit next to me at dinner anymore and we haven’t gone to lunch in days” Wanda said pouting a little and you felt your heart strings tug a little.

“I’ve just been busy” Was all the explanation you gave her and she huffed in annoyance.

“Y/n please!” She begged feeling her eyes well up with tears. “I miss you” Her words made you sigh as you grabbed your water bottle.

“Wanda please..It’s nothing to do with you i’ve just had a lot going on that’s all” You said softly looking into her soft green eyes.

“Okay…I’m sorry” Was all she said before she abruptly left you in the training room. You turned around to say something but the doors shut before you could.

You stood there as your thoughts ran wild and you felt a lump in your throat. It was all too much for you to handle so you just gathered your things and went back to your room hoping to sleep it off.

When you got to your room you were quick to turn the shower on and step into the warm water. The water cascaded down your skin melting away some of the tension in your muscles. You tried to shake the thoughts of Wanda out of your head as you washed your body then hair. You took your time with each step not wanting to leave the warmth and safety of the shower.

Once you were fully satisfied with your shower you stepped out and wrapped yourself in your fluffy robe. You changed into your favorite sweats and hoodie before slipping into bed just wanting to sleep away your problems. So that’s what’s you did you turned on The Vampire Diaries before you drifted off into unconsciousness state.

*Your dream*

The sun shined on your face causing you to groan a little before you slowly opened your eyes. You looked around and noticed that you weren’t in your room. You slowly uncovered yourself and walked around the room. There were small trinkets scattered around along with pretty paintings on the walls. But your heart stopped when you saw the picture on the nightstand. It was of you and Wanda with two baby boys smiling at the park.

Your heart started to beat faster and your hands started to sweat as you stared at the picture. After a minute of staring at it you put it back down and grabbed the robe on the door before walking to what you assume was the kitchen.

The sounds of giggling filled your ears as you approached the kitchen. And you couldn’t believe what you saw when you walked in. There Wanda was sitting at the kitchen table with two boys who looked around five and they were eating breakfast.

“Morning malysh” She greeted as she stood up from the table to grab the plate she made you. You walked up to her with a small smile on your face not really understanding what was going on but loving it nonetheless. Wanda handed you the plate with a small kiss on your cheek and you sat down next to one of the boys.

“Morning mommy” The little boy in a blue shirt said giving you a side hug when you sat down. Your eyes widened a little and you looked at Wanda who had a little smirk on her face.

“Uh morning honey” You said giving the boy a kiss on the head before you started eating along with them.

“How’d you sleep?” Wanda asked sitting back down at the table. She gave you a look as you asked making you wonder if she knew you were confused.

“I slept okay” You said tilting your head in confusion at the look she gave you. Wanda just nodded at your words and continued to eat her breakfast.

The four of you ate breakfast and you learned the boys names Billy and Tommy. You were still confused as to what was going on after you cleaned up from eating. Wanda had sent the boys to their room after you finished eating so she could talk to you for a moment.

“Malysh?” You felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist when you heard her voice. You turned around in her arms to face her making her smile a little.

“Yea?” You said in a soft voice making Wanda damn near melt.

“Are you okay?” She asked knowingly.

“Not really…I’m confused. One minute i fell asleep in my room at the compound and then the next i’m here with you and…and our kids?” As the words left your mouth you grew even more confused as to how this happened.

“Well if it makes it easier to understand this is a dream” Your eyes widened at her words.

“What?!” You said completely bewildered not comprehending what the fuck was going on.

“Well it’s a dream of our future” She said as she took you to the couch. The both of you sat on the couch and you waited for her to continue.

“I’m not the Wanda from your universe to start. In my universe i made the same mistake as the Wanda from your universe. I chose Vision in my universe just like yours did and i regretted it immediately but i felt stuck. And it wasn’t until…You uh died in my universe that i knew i made the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve spent the last two years trying to find a universe with you in it. Most universes have a you but you’re normally already with Wanda except in this universe…” You felt like you got whiplash from her words as you sat there and listened.

You sat there for a few minutes before you found the courage to speak. “So you’re not my Wanda and you’re from another universe? And i died in your universe? how? when? I-I and are the boys real? or are they just in the dream?” Wanda took your hand to stop you from having a panic attack.

“Breathe malysh breathe” She said calmly. “You died on a mission two years ago when we were taking down a hydra base and we got ambushed. We did everything we could to save you but it didn’t work. And yes in most universes the boys exist. We used a sperm donor to have them. You carried billy and i carried tommy.” Her words calmed you down a little.

Your thoughts were running rampant as you looked at the woman you loved. “I- Wow” Was all you were able to say making the witch laugh a little.

“I know this is a shot in the dark but w-would you come back to my universe with me? I-I can’t keep living without you” Wanda begged holding your hand a little tighter.

“But won’t that ruin the multiverse?” You asked a little nervous. It’s not that you didn’t wanna go it’s that you were scared and also thought that you were going crazy.

“No it won’t. I can make it to where you don’t exist in this universe. I can make it to where no one even knows your gone.” She said quickly to make sure that you didnt say no.

“Okay” You nodded your head. Wanda smiled and brought you in for a passionate kiss. And that’s when everything went blank.

*End of your dream*

You woke up and rubbed your eyes and looked around the room to make sure you were in your own room. It took you a few minutes to realize where you were and that you were okay. You shook off the dream assuming that it was just your brain playing games with you.

The clock read 12:02 when you saw a portal open in your room. You rubbed your eyes again as the portal opened and Wanda walked through.

“Wanda? What are you doing?” You asked still half asleep.

“I’m bringing you home Malysh”

~The end of part 1~

A/n Sorry not sorry for the cliff hanger 💋 I love yall and i’ll see you in the next part :)

#ravenromanova #wanda maximoff #marvel x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x female reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x y/n #wanda x vision #wanda x you

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invisiblestringmm · 18 days

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chapter three

it could change but this feels like, like the calm before the storm

a/n: you’re welcome & don’t forget to leave feedback! 🤍

tw: a bit of angst, brief mention of anxiety & rough pregnancy

2.208 words

There were times when you wondered how things would’ve been if Lily never existed - an unbearable thought, since you adored her more than anything in the world and would obviously do anything to make her happy, but where would you be now if you never met the love of your life? You frequently thought about how things would’ve been if Mason never shoved you away, nor ghosted you before you told him about Lily. So, besides your life, two others were living rent-free in your mind and the question “What could’ve been?” was constantly echoing in a soft yet agonising voice.

You never opened Mason’s message on your insta DM, but you never blocked him either for there was no point. The damage, if you could even call it one, was already done and you were more than certain about it on a Tuesday night, when Willow dropped Lily at your’s and her green eyes screamed “I’m so sorry”. Before you could question what had happened, your daughter walked in dragging her backpack and her usual cheerful personality, telling you what a fun afternoon she had with Summer, her mother, and her uncle Mason.

“I took Lily for ice cream like you said I could and they were there,” Willow was sharp to clarify when your widened eyes met hers - you watched your friend swallow hard, anxiously waiting for your reaction.

“Go to your bedroom, Lilian,” your daughter frowned at you and you noticed she pouted a bit. You sighed. “It’s alright, peanut. I just need to speak to auntie Willow, okay?”

Lily mimicked you and let out a sigh too, something that’d make you laugh if you weren’t so nervous. Still in her ballet clothes, you watched your daughter blow you a kiss and make her way to her bedroom, leaving the door open as you always instructed her and that made your heart melt a little. You were the luckiest mum in the world, how could you ever think of a life that Lily wasn’t a part of?

“Y/n, I swear to God I had no idea they’d be there. I didn’t even notice them there, it was Summer who spotted Lily and it was just her and the mum - what’s her na-”

“Jaz,”

Willow nodded, nervously. “I assumed it was okay to stay with them since the girls like each other so much and I didn’t even see him coming. I promise,”

“Will, it’s fine…” you sighed, defeated. This whole crisis was happening because of you, there was no one else to be blamed.

You were the one hiding your child from her father and his family - her family.

“I tried to leave immediately but Lils had just started eating her chocolate fudge and-”

“Oh gosh, was it a big chocolate fudge?”

“No,” Willow shook her head, chuckling. “We shared.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to breathe deeply and close your eyes for a second, feeling unexpectedly exhausted. “How was it?”

“He was very charming, particularly when she introduced herself,” you felt Willow run her hand up and down your back and found comfort in her eyes. “Lilian Maisie, she said.”

“Gosh,” you felt your gut wrench, heart pounding against your chest.

“I know this won’t make things any easier for you, but I think Jaz will probably try to reach you because she’d keep staring at Lily and Mason all the time.”

“Gosh,” you repeated, feeling your whole body weakening. Willow helped you sit on the sofa. “It’s because they look exactly like each other, isn't it?”

Willow slowly nodded, a sigh parting her lips. “The resemblance is undoubtedly uncanny,”

She didn’t stay long that evening, and you had to spend a few minutes reassuring Lily that you weren’t mad at her and that, sometimes, adults were complicated and needed to talk about important stuff - to which she wisely replied that you were a person before being her mummy and still loved you more than anything.

What made you obsessively wonder was: would she still love you when you tell her that her best friend’s uncle was also her daddy?

Willow’s prediction was confirmed when Jaz’s name popped on your notifications, asking when you’d finally accept her invitation to go out for lunch without the girls. It annoyed you a bit how much she insisted, not only because you didn’t feel prepared to face her, but also because things at work were hectic with the Holidays right around the corner. You also had your dad calling nonstop to know if he could take Lily to the Cotswolds before you had planned - according to him, she’d have a lot more fun staying there with her grandparents than with you, occasionally having to go to the office with you. He wasn’t wrong, but there was still the ballet recital on the weekend, so you two agreed he could take her the next day.

When Jaz started to call you instead of texting, you knew it was time to finally give in. Instead of going out, you two agreed it’d be a good idea to enjoy the opportunity to cook a nice meal, so your apartment was the chosen place and you were in charge of the groceries while Jaz fetched dessert and a bottle of white wine for you.

“I’ll have to make you a mocktail,” you said, giving her space to walk into your apartment.

“I definitely won’t decline it,” she giggled, and you noticed how her eyes quickly scanned your place. “I love the decoration. How do you keep it so tidy with that little hurricane?”

“You probably won’t believe it, but Lily is incredibly organised.”

“Hmm,” she muttered. “She got it from you, then.”

It was hard to swallow those words, especially with the knot that formed in your throat. Jasmine was so sure. You knew that she knew, and she knew that you knew - confusing, but clear as the day. You hadn’t been with Jaz many times and they had all been at the ballet studio, you spoke a lot through messages, but you felt oddly uncomfortable around her and you forced yourself to keep in mind that it wasn’t her fault, it was entirely yours.

“So, uh…” you started. “I never asked what we should cook but I’m trying to stay focused before the Holidays.” You giggled, Jaz mimicking you and nodding.

“Me too!”

Cooking made you feel relaxed, so despite the reason why Jaz practically forced this time together, you finally felt at ease again as you talked about the ballet recital and shared Holiday plans - you pointed at a photo of you, Lily, and your parents at Foxwoods House, surrounded by its beautiful garden. One your mum took great pride in.

“The estate has been in the family for a few generations and my great-grandfather built a small chapel there, to marry my great-grandmother,”

“That’s insanely romantic!” Jaz’s sigh was followed by a giggle. “I suppose your grandparents and your parents married there too?”

“Yes, it’s sort of a family tradition. My cousins married there too, and the babies were christened… It's really lovely, very private, and family-centered. The whole family is extremely close.”

“But the estate is your dad’s?”

“Yes and no,” Jaz raised an eyebrow and you chuckled, dividing your attention between her and chopping tomatoes as she focused on the garlic. “My grandpa was sort of inclined to gambling and almost lost the estate, but my dad saved it. It’s his, but like I said, we’re all really close so it’s not like he bans the rest of the family to go there and enjoy it when they need an escape.”

“Because you all grew up there?” you nodded. “Your dad sounds like a fantastic man.” You smiled at her, nodding too. He indeed was, and has always been the most supportive of all.

“He’s extraordinary. Lily is completely crazy about him to the point she’d move in with my parents without thinking twice.”

Jaz flashed you a sweet smile but said nothing. She wasn’t exactly discreet and her facial expression gave it all away, but she soon engaged in rambling about baby shopping, preparations for the baby’s arrival, and how her house was upside down with baby furniture arriving last minute. Rambling wasn’t your favourite thing, but it was better than her throwing hints about Lily’s father - the white wine and the smell of the red sauce cooking also made it easier to handle.

“Pregnancy was fucking hell for me, you know,” you blurted, interrupting Jaz, but she didn’t mind and seemed interested for you to continue. “The first 6 weeks were marked by HG, I was always in and out of the hospital, and the stress made it all worse.

“Stress?”

You nodded. “Lack of emotional support. My parents were incredible but I was still a single mum.”

“Look, Y/n-”

“I tried to tell him.” Jaz gulped. “I need you to listen to me and let me finish the story without any sort of judgement.”

“I’ll do my best.”

This was it, the moment of the truth.

You left the chicken roasting at medium temperature and stood up on the other side of the marble kitchen island, watching Jaz taking a seat while holding her massive bump and taking a sip of her apple juice. Focusing on her bump seemed the best thing to do as you tried to find the proper words, and watching the way she softly stroked it made memories overflow your mind.

“It was just a one-night stand.” you sighed. “I don't want to justify my actions, I know I’m on the wrong side of the story here, but as young as I was, having the father of my child shoving me off the way he did when I went there to tell him just freaked me out.”

Then, you proceeded to tell her the whole story, but also how incredible it was being Lily’s mum. How giving birth was the complete opposite of the pregnancy and you were fortunate that things went as smoothly and as peacefully as possible, that your whole life changed once you held Lily in your arms and fed her your milk - you could see Jaz’s eyes sparkling with tears because she understood what motherhood meant and how you’d do anything and everything to protect your child from what you thought it could be a disappointment for her in the future. Mason turned his back on you that day before you could tell him, so how could he even support you?

You never said his name, but Jasmine’s next words were so full of confidence, that you knew you didn’t have to.

“You should’ve insisted, Y/n.”

You just nodded. “I know, and I want you to know that I regret it deeply because I had no right to deprive my daughter of being around her cousin, her amazing aunt…”

“Gosh,” you watched a single tear fall down her cheek. “He would’ve supported you.”

“You weren’t there, you didn’t see how badly he treated me. I was-” you sniffed. “I was so frightened, so lost.”

“Mason would’ve supported you.” The mention of his name made you finally allow some tears to roll down your cheeks. “And you named her after him…”

You nodded. “I wanted him to be around, somehow.”

“This is extremely tough for me but I don’t want to judge, so…” Holding her bump, Jaz stood up and unhurriedly made her way to you, her hand reaching yours and softly squeezing it. “I’m here for whatever you need, I’m here to be the aunt Lily needs and to support the both of you because I know that’s what you need.”

“Oh, Jaz,” you wanted to cover your face with your hands but Jasmine quickly pulled you to a hug, a clumsy one.

“I’ll be there when you’re ready to tell Mason, and I can’t wait to tell Summer that her bestie is her cousin.”

The rest of the day was followed by you showing Jasmine all of Lily’s baby pictures, telling her all the stories, and even repeating some of them - even if you insisted that it’d be incredible for her to find out everything about Lily by herself, Jaz said it’d still feel like the first time until she got used to being an aunt. She mentioned it was scary to see how much Lily and Mason look alike, that “Maisie” is the perfect middle name, and that she couldn’t wait to see their dynamic together. The hard parts were left out, but you knew that a paternity test would eventually happen for obvious reasons, no matter how much Lily looked like her father.

Jaz assured you that although Mason’s reaction would most likely be negative about what you’ve done, it wouldn’t extend to Lily and he wouldn’t reject her but it’d be a rough path navigating through the fact that he was a father and that his daughter wasn’t a newborn. And like she was reading your mind, she also assured you that he wouldn’t dare to try to take Lily from you.

This was the first time in five years, you knew that, somehow, things would end up fine no matter how hard the in-between was about to be.

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount series #invisible string mm | chapter three

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folkloresthings · 8 months

Note

hello hello hello !!! i just want to say i love love LOVE your fics, esp the oscar ones… the one you posted a few hours ago 🥺 my heart 🥺

i saw your post about oscar requests and i thought it’s meant to be because i’ve been listening a lot to taylor these last few days! could i maybe request osc and “all of the girls you loved before”? 🤭 hope you’re having wonderful day sweetheart!! 💓

-@httpiastri

this song. this man. thank u @httpiastri

ALL OF THE GIRLS YOU LOVED BEFORE. ❨ oscar piastri x reader ❩

despite being young, you weren’t stupid. you knew millions of women would kill to be with your boyfriend. you knew that, before you’d met, he had girls hanging off of his arm every weekend. you knew he’d had girlfriends before, flings and flirtations. but for six whole months, he’d been yours and yours only.

he never spoke about his ex’s, just as you never spoke about yours. you didn’t need to — you were too wrapped up in your love for each other to care about anyone else. that was, of course, until you went home with him.

the australian grand prix meant meeting oscar’s family for the first time. it went perfectly, an absolute dream. his mother adored you, fawning over you every second you stayed in her home. you, too, were her biggest fan. she’d raised the man you loved, bringing him up loyal and kind and everything you had fallen for.

being in his hometown meant bumping into other people from his life, or his past. even the ones you didn’t want to.

“oh, hey! y/n, right?” the bar was loud so you could barely hear the girl over the music. you nodded, smiling, and took a sip of your drink.

“yeah, that’s me! hi!”

the girl smiles back at you, but its one that makes you uneasy. a judging sort of smile, one that takes all over your features. all of a sudden, you hate the dress you chose and the way you’ve done your hair. this girl is stunning, all tanned and beach waves.

“i’m jessica,” she tells you, assured. “i used to go to school with oscar.”

your eyes light up, loving to hear from people who knew oscar long before you did. you look around for your boyfriend, but he’s off somewhere with lando.

“he’s around here somewhere — have you bumped into him yet?” you ask, innocent and sincere.

“no, not yet. i’m dying to see him though.”

you engage in as much painful small talk as you can, your gut twisting uncomfortably as you concur that this girl knows something you don’t. you only relax when you feel a familiar hand on your waist, oscar’s lips pressing in greeting to your head.

“hi, baby,” he murmurs, eyes going a little wide when they find the other girl’s. “jessica?”

“hey, os!” she greets brightly, reaching across to hug him, awkward from where his hand never leaves your waist. “i was just talking to your new little girlfriend here. have you taken her to all of your spots yet?”

your brows furrow towards the girl and she smirks.

“oscar used to take me to all these special places around here when we were going out. i’m sure he’ll show you them, won’t you?”

“oh, you two dated?” you question, glancing between jessica and your boyfriend.

“yeah, for ages.”

“barely.”

the two speak at the same time, jessica’s cheeks going red from oscar’s answer. she was fighting a losing battle, and his grip on you was only getting tighter.

“me and y/n have our own places,” oscar states, gaze cold. “see you, jessica.”

he’s pulling you away from the scowling woman before you know it, out to the empty smoking garden and fresh air. his eyes screw shut, frustration pulling a low groan from him.

“shit, i’m so sorry. we dated for, like, a month when we were sixteen. she cheated a few times and only took interest when i started driving for F1,” he explains, breathless and panicked. “i swear, she means nothing. i can’t believe she tried to talk to you like that.”

“oscar, calm down,” you laugh fondly, taking his soft cheeks in your hands. he returns a pout, eyes all puppy dog like to make you melt. “it’s fine. i’m not bothered about her.”

“you’re not?” oscar sighs, relief shedding from him. “i thought you’d be… i don’t know, annoyed.”

“that you have a few ex—girlfriends?” if you couldn’t already be impossibly in love with him already, he was giving you a million reasons to be. “babe, all of those girls — all of the ones you loved before, they’ve made you the one i’ve fallen for.”

oscar visibly softens, and it fills you with so much emotion that you feel your chest seize. he squeezes at your waist, pulling you into a tooth—rotting kiss. you press against his soft, wine stained lips but he’s smiling too much into it that the kiss is lost in a sea of loving giggles.

“i never loved any girl the way i love you, you know,” oscar whispers, eyes raking over your love stricken face.

“not even your mum?” you smirk, poking his side.

“shut up,” oscar grins, kissing you again. “yeah, but don’t tell her that.”

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri fluff

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matchavellichor · 9 months

Text

Just This Once Pt. 2

dark!Ominis x f!MC - NSFW/Angst - 3.4k words

Tags: !!Non-con!!, Pining, Obsession, Drugged Sex, Somnophilia, Cunnilingus

Part 1, Part 3 ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ

“You alright, Ominis?”

“Fine,” Ominis forces a tight-lipped smile. He’s been nursing the same glass of firewhiskey for most of the evening, barely able to get it down. “Just tired.”

Sebastian gives a sigh as he stands, only wobbling slightly. He knows that look on his friend’s face, the familiar I don’t want to be here, but I’m too polite to leave.

“Why don’t you help her back to Slytherin then? I’m gonna stay a while and she’s clearly had enough.” He nods to where their friend is warring against a black-out, slumped against the garrish scarlet cushions of one of the common room couches.

Sebastian chuckles as he helps her from her seat, stilling her wrists when she playfully swats at him and insists she’s fine. She’s deposited in Ominis’ arms before he can get a word in.

She stops her grumbling when she realizes who’s holding her up, blinking up at him for a moment before her lips curl into a pleased smile. “You’re still here, Omi?”

“Still here,” he murmurs, trying to keep his breathing even when she loops her arm with his to steady herself.

He meanders the both of them through the noisy Gryffindor common room, out into the cool, dimly-lit hallway. She hums one of the old tavern tunes the Gryffindors have been belting the entire night, slurring all the words the entire journey towards the dungeons. He bites the inside of his cheek, pretending he isn’t amused.

She leans on him, her fingers curling around his bicep for support, as she stumbles through the coiling serpent door, and that familiar ache manifests itself in his gut.

He ignores it. He’s done a good job of ignoring it so far, hasn’t laid a finger on her—just like he promised. He isn’t a bad person, after all. He won’t do what he did to her again. It was a one-time thing, just to scratch an itch, and he’s more than capable of suffering in silence from now on, the same way he always has.

By the time they finally cut through the Slytherin common room, he’s practically carrying her. She’s dozing off with her head on his shoulder, soft and pliant in his arms, and he feels this strange sort of tightening feeling in his chest.

He’s felt that dull, longing pain for a while. This is exponentially worse, as if his pining has finally culminated into something unbearable. He grinds his teeth and holds his breath and pretends he doesn’t feel tempted to bury his nose in her hair, to inhale until his inhibitions melt away and he does something stupid.

He sets her down on her feet when he reaches the stairs to the girls’ dormitories, but has to hold her up to keep her from falling over. Her words are stumbled over, soft and broken by yawns. “D’you think…you could bring me up?”

“You know I can’t,” he sighs. “Wards.”

She frowns, looking up at him. “Then…bring me to yours?”

He immediately shakes his head. “That’s not a good idea—”

“Oh, come on,” her fingers curl into the front of his shirt and he’s suddenly acutely aware of just how close she is. It’s suffocating, in a dreadfully pleasant way. He never thought he could find asphyxiation appealing, but he’s learned by now to not put anything past her. “Please?”

She pleads so pretty. He thinks of how she sounded back in the Undercroft, when he had her body pinned underneath his. Heat pools in that spot just below his navel and he suppresses a shudder. He runs a hand down his face to disperse the memory, nodding jerkily. “Yeah, al-alright. Fine.”

He shouldn’t give in so easily. He finds himself in possession of very little faculties to refuse her absolutely anything.

Ominis mutters a few locking charms as soon as he carries her into the quiet of his empty dorm. For her privacy, he tells himself, and ignores that contrite little voice in his head that knows it’s for something more. He pretends he doesn’t feel some sick satisfaction in knowing he has her all to himself.

It’d be easy to do it all again, he thinks. Perhaps even easier than the first time, with her state.

The thought leaves his head as quickly as it comes. He won’t. He has control over this. He has control over himself, most importantly. However, the longer he’s around her, the more she presses her body into his, the less convinced he is of the fact.

He takes a sharp breath and sits her down on the edge of his bed to unlace her boots for her. Her calves are small in his hands, delicate. There’s something appealing about that realization that he doesn’t stop to dwell on.

When he’s done, he helps her brush her teeth and comb her hair. It’s strangely domestic. Once again, he tries not to think about the warm, fuzzy feeling it gives him. He knows by now he has no right to crave such things. Wholesomeness isn’t for people who imperius and molest their friends.

He can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth when she flops down onto his bed, tangling herself in silky emerald sheets. “Smells nice,” she murmurs, voice muffled with her face buried in his pillow.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever wash those sheets again.

He hovers near the foot of the bed, hands tucked chastely in his pockets, posture awkwardly stiff. He clears his throat. “You—uh, you should probably take a sober-up.”

She props herself up on her elbows to look at him, tilting her head with a pout. “That’s no fun.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I think you’ve had enough fun for one night.”

She falls back onto the pillows with a groan. “Fine.”

He kneels in front of the bedside table he shares with Sebastian, rummaging through the drawers in search of a sober-up he’s sure the brunette certainly keeps in store.

His hand brushes a familiar vial, and for a brief moment he forgets about the potion he’s supposed to be looking for, in favor of thumbing over the worn label he knows too well.

He used to take it whenever his anxiety got too bad, when sleep was scarce because of nightmares. He’s more than familiar with the side-effects—only a bit more potent than a calming draught, really. Makes him drowsy, helps him sleep.

A thought passes through his head, but this time it lingers.

He closes the drawer with his knee and hovers over where she’s still curled on his bed, the dull edges of the vial biting into his skin where he’s tightened his fist around it.

It isn��t like he’s drugging her. He takes the potion himself. He’s just helping her relax a bit, that’s all.

“Here,” he brushes a hand over her shoulder to get her attention, her warmth seeping through the linen of her blouse to his palm. He resists the urge to dip his hand under the hem of her collar, skin-to-skin. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

He pretends he doesn’t feel the little flicker of heat that manifests in his stomach when she obeys, parted lips brushing his fingertips, looking up at him through her lashes.

He uncorks the dropper from the vial and drips a few more drops than the recommended dose on her tongue, and then a couple more. Her nose wrinkles from the bitter taste, but she swallows nonetheless. “Gross.”

He huffs a laugh, helping her lay back down. “A bit.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, eyes half-lidded. He finds he likes the dazed quality of her voice a bit too much. “You’re a savior, Omi.”

He forces a smile and swallows down the guilt he feels burrowed in his chest. His mouth tastes bitter. “It’s no problem, really.”

He goes to tug the comforter over her body but she protests, limbs feeling too heavy to use properly. He gets a strange sort of thrill when he feels how weakly she pushes at his wrists.

“Need—need to take this off first,” she murmurs, voice already softened.

She tugs at the laces of her bodice, but her fingers are languid and clumsy, lacking too much dexterity to untie them. The potion is fast-acting, he notes with a disgusting amount of satisfaction. She looks up at him for help, guiding his hands to the front of her blouse. He swallows the lump in his throat. “Right—uh, sure.”

He tries to still the trembling in his fingers as he unworks the latticework of ribbons, but he supposes she’s too bleary now to even notice. He helps her shrug off the garment, her arms limp when he holds them up to pull the fabric over her head. That little flickering heat in his gut is stoked higher when he notes how perfectly her two wrists fit in just one of his hands.

He likes her like this, maybe to an alarming degree. Weak and pliant. It reminds him of her state under the Imperius, trance-like, bending to his will because she lacks the capacity to do much else.

He helps her shimmy out of her skirt as well, even though she never asks him to. She doesn’t protest. Just lets his hands adjust her as he sees fit. He doesn’t linger on the fact that she’s only letting him because she doesn’t have the power to voice any objections, much less stop him.

That tiny, wanton flame inside him has been fed into an all-consuming fire, far too zealous to allow even a shadow of guilt to hinder his actions.

The chemise she wears underneath her clothes is sheer, barely reaching the tops of her knees. Easy to tear, he thinks as he smooths his hand down her hip, only briefly. She lets out a soft sigh and he pulls back. Still too lucid.

Temptation is a pretty thing tangled in his sheets, donned in thin, satiny fabrics.

It’d be so easy to take. The thought comes and sticks, even as he tries to rid himself of it. It’s tacky, enticing, gluing itself to the walls of his brain.

He wouldn’t even need to use an Unforgivable again, not like last time. No breaking any promises—though he notes that the thought of doing so is less nausea-inducing now than the first time. The idea more digestible. He doesn’t dwell on the implications behind that.

He unclasps the first few buttons of his shirt as he waits for her breathing to finally steady out. It isn’t long before she’s out like a light.

He sits on the adjacent bed, but only for a moment before his anxiety makes him pace the room. His thoughts are a mess, alternating between staying as far away from her as possible and sinking into her very skin. He chews on his nails while the latter begins to take dominance, until he ultimately finds himself hovering over the side of his bed.

It’s not like he hasn’t touched her before while she’s sleeping. He’s traced her features a couple times, gently, just to get an idea of what she looks like. This isn’t any different. He won’t do anything terrible.

He knows with certainty that Sebastian and their other dorm mate won’t be in until dawn breaks, he’s more than accustomed with their party habits by now. The situation is almost too perfect. When will he ever have her like this again? Drowsy and willing, all to himself, in his bed.

The mattress creaks as he sits himself on the edge. She doesn’t move an inch. His heart hammers in his chest, but he reaches a hand out anyway, tentatively running his hand down the soft outline of her figure, bathed in silk. He wants to feel her, though, so he brushes his fingertips, feather-light, where her shoulder is peeking out from under the covers.

It’s easy to not feel guilty when this is something familiar.

Tentatively, he pulls the covers down to her waist. When she doesn’t stir, he pulls them back the rest of the way, exposing her to him. Gooseflesh prickles over her skin as it comes in contact with the cool air of the room and he runs his hands down her arms to soothe it. She’s somehow softer than he remembers, sensitive and sleep-warm.

She shifts in her sleep, but he isn’t deterred like he usually is. He knows that with the effects of the potion she won’t wake, at least not fully. That familiar course of adrenaline courses through his veins at the thought of not having to be as cautious as he usually is. Being able to touch at will. It’s exhilarating, in the most terrible way possible.

He bunches her chemise over her waist in one pull. The material glides over her skin with ease, and she gives little protest, nothing more in the way of a soft exhale, a gentle murmur. The sound courses through his very core, all the way south. He’s sick with curiosity about what other sounds he can coax from her, fingers hovering over the bare expanse of her midriff.

He’s filled with the urge to know her in all the ways he hasn’t yet, having kept all his prior explorations strictly above-belt. The unknown beckons to him, every inch of her he hasn’t touched or tasted, teeming under his skin until it aches.

He runs a thumb across the hem of her knickers, gentle, patient—even if at the moment it’s like he hasn’t the faintest idea of the definition of the world. It doesn’t take very long for him to exhaust the small amount of hesitation he does possess.

He shifts over her on the bed, climbing down her body, hands trailing adoration on her skin with exploratory curiosity. He digs his fingers a little too hard into her hips and she lets out a whimper, soft and barely audible. He finds he quite likes the sound.

She squirms in place, hips shying away from him in her sleep and he hushes her, soothing the skin with soft, little circles stroked by his thumb.

He presses his lips right above her navel, trailing kisses down her stomach, and she keens under the sensation, stretching like a purring kitten. He smirks against her skin. So receptive, even unconscious.

As he trails down to his destination, he noses softly at every curve and bow he can reach, slow and appreciative. She’s gorgeous, all soft features and gentle silhouettes. He finds himself wanting to run his tongue over every contour until he memorizes her with his mouth.

He treats her as if he’s at an altar, kneeled in not only solemn adoration, but grave penitence for what he knows he plans to do with her. He supposes it’s always best to pray for forgiveness, then ask for permission.

When he gets to the hem of her knickers, he plies her legs wider to accommodate him, pinning one of her thighs to the mattress. She obliges so easily, limbs loose and limp, so he tugs the other over his shoulder.

His breath hovers over her clothed core and that familiar contrite little voice murmurs a flurry in his head. He finds it’s so much easier to tune it out now, especially as he presses his mouth to the gusset of her knickers for the first time and his brain whites out in bliss.

He wouldn’t be able to suppress the groan he lets out if he had all the willpower in the world.

It isn’t long before he’s hastily pulling the thin cotton down her thighs, any sort of barrier between them a personal affront to his sanity. Something tears but he finds himself in no capacity to care. She does little to stop him, only shifting futilely in her sleep, but he has his arm anchored across her thigh to still her squirming.

He licks a stripe with the flat of his tongue, just to finally taste her, to acquiesce the pounding in his ears and that familiar rush of blood south. She tastes like heaven, and he knows that after all he’s done it’s the closest he’ll ever get.

His fingers dig into tender flesh so hard he’s sure he’ll leave marks as he starts to lap at her in earnest, unable to stop himself. Breathy little sighs hitch in her throat, turning into soft moans as he takes his time, exploring every millimeter his tongue can reach.

“S’gorgeous,” he slurs, lips sticky against her cunt. “Gods, you taste so good.”

He wraps his lips around her clit and sucks, and the noise she lets out is almost enough to make him finish in his pants. He can tell her brain’s struggling to breach consciousness, hips rocking languidly against his mouth, the softest murmurs escaping her lips. He pays little mind to them, continuing to devote himself to tasting her fully.

He takes one of her hands that are pawing weakly at the sheet beneath her, placing it on top of his head. Her fingers immediately find purchase in his hair, eliciting a groan from him as he circles her clit with his tongue in tight little circles.

Her breathing is stuttered, uneven. “Om–Omin–”

“That’s it, angel, say my name,” he hums, her voice making him throb in his pants where he’s been rutting mindlessly against the mattress. “You sound so pretty. Fuck, my sweet, sweet girl.”

Her fingers tighten in his hair, a bit too softly for his tastes due to her semi-lucid state, but enough to earn a moan from him nonetheless. He feels the muscles in her abdomen tighten when he braces a forearm across her middle to pin her to the bed, stilling her helpless writhing, and he knows she’s close. He doesn’t plan on stopping until she’s coming on his tongue, no matter how much she begs.

Feeling her try to resist him makes him ache in his trousers, her hands pushing weakly at his head. He latches his mouth to her clit and sucks until he feels her heels dig into his back and a sob is torn from her throat as she’s pushed over the edge.

He grinds his hips into the mattress as he rides her through her climax, grunting expletives against her skin. Her chest heaves, arms loose at her sides as she hiccups through tears, coming down from her high.

Her legs tremble around his head and he kisses the insides of her thighs, listening to her breathless, incoherent little murmurs that he can’t quite make out. He can’t help the blissed satisfaction he feels, thumbs rubbing soft circles on her hip bones.

He climbs over her, chin sticky as he leaves kisses in his ascent. “I know, baby, I know,” he hushes when she squirms, voice hoarse. “Just a dream. Go back to sleep.”

He wipes the wetness from her cheeks, damp lashes fluttering in her attempts to gain some viable form of consciousness. He smiles to himself knowing the effects of the potion will keep her perfectly limp and drowsy for him.

He noses at her temple, stroking her hair while he waits for her breathing to steady out again. “Was that good, angel? Did I make you feel good?”

She doesn’t respond, and he knows her brain is too addled with sleep and endorphins to even hear him. He rambles praises anyway, lips pressed to her forehead, his heart so full in his chest it might burst.

“I love you,” he whispers, collecting her in his arms and tucking her into his side, even if the rational part of his brain advises against it. He can’t help but want her close. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

The inside of his trousers is sticky with the evidence of his own climax, but he can’t be bothered to feel the shame he normally feels, too caught up in the feeling of her body against his. He plants kisses to the crown of her head and pretends he’s holding her because she wants to be held.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs sometime after into the stillness of her soft breathing, exhaustion tugging at his eyelids. He isn’t, not really. Being sorry implies he won’t do it again. Something he’s able to admit by now he knows isn’t true. “I’m so sorry.”

He closes his eyes and pretends he is.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt fanfiction #dark fic

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lesbianoms · 1 month

Text

Hhhh ohh god fuck~ I’m in love with the concept of wlw long term melty digestion 🥵

Imagine two women who are seeing each other and the more dominant one coaxes her submissive partner into being eaten by her… she’s a bit reluctant, but does have to admit… it gives her a “funny feeling” to imagine, and she always wants to make her girlfriend happy… so she sheepishly agrees…

And after she gets swallowed, maybe she’s whining and protesting a bit… with little kicks to the inside of her gf’s big, swollen belly. The pred lets out a belch and rolls her eyes, giving her gut a teasing pat. Always a drama queen, this one. But the pred knows she’ll be fine, and so she stretches across the bed, ready to sleep off her big meal~

Throughout the night, the pred’s stomach gets louder and the prey’s muffled sounds get softer… quieter… subdued <3… she sounds almost peaceful as she gets churned by the belly of her beloved~

It doesn’t hurt, it’s just a bit of a strange experience. She moans from within the rotund belly and whimpers pitifully as her form is melting and bubbling away. And eventually, at some point in the early morning, the sounds stop all together 💕

The pred hums in her sleep and places a hand over her hard-working gut; it’s all soft and sloshy now. Her tummy lets out a long groan in response to being touched. The middle begins to sag, and there’s a big scchlrp… sssqquelch~ as what’s left of her sweet girlfriend collapses beneath those churning stomach walls. All sludge now~ ☠️🫧

In the morning the pred kneads and rubs a much smaller stomach, getting aroused by the feeling of her prey shifting around and slipping deeper into her guts for even more lengthy digestion <3

“See? I’m so happy you came around, darling~”

ggggrrr…rrRRGGL…….

Of course, when her beloved DOES come back, she’ll have to tease her and cuddle her and tell her what a wonderful evening snack she made… but for now she just enjoys her partner’s eventual dedication to making her all soft❤️🥰

#v.ore #v0re #soft vore #vore writing #wlw vore #vore scenario #vore talk #digestion #unwilling prey #well… kind of #implied reformation #unwilling to willing #vore digestion #f/f vore #pred/prey #reformation vore

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aajjks · 2 years

Text

Crush (JJK)

synopsis. He hated you, crushingly.

pairing: secret soft yandere simp!jungkook x barista!reader. ft. jaehyun loml

warnings: degrading words, softer yandere, simp behaviour 101, yandere, obsessive thoughts, HES such a diva imo, content warning yandere.

note. idk what the fuck I just wrote 😭 he’s such a simp I just nshshshhsbsb. I’m in love with jungkook it’s pathetic. thanks for reading! :dd ps my bday is in two days wohooo

Jungkook despised your guts.

You made his skin crawl, his blood pressure rise as soon as he sees your figure walking in the campus, he hates how his heart is racing like some teenager idiot.

He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from you.

You are so infuriating every single time he sees you, it makes his brain shut down, his heartbeat becomes abnormally fast and his body itches with longing.

Fucking bitch, he chews on his lower lip, barely paying attention to whatever Jaehyun is talking about, rocking his feet back n forth to calm himself.

He wants you so bad. Jungkook realised that a long time ago, he wants you.

He doesn’t want to, he hates you.

But, “bro, stop gawking at her.” He blinks twice at Jaehyun’s tone, finally looking away from your figure.

Jungkook turns his body to the side, now looking at his best friend who gives him a look of disappointment.

“Do you see her laughing with that dumb blonde bitch? What’s so damn funny!” Jungkook gritted his teeth, “what a whore.” He inhaled a breath.

God, he was desperate.

Jaehyun cocked a brow at Jungkook’s cruel remarks about you, “aw look at you and your words… the look in your eyes doesn’t really suit your words”

Jungkook knows.

Jaehyun sighs, “Jungkook, you are in love with Y/N.”

The tattooed man gasped. “What the fuck, hell no!”

Jungkook was not in love with you, he just obsessively hated you, “she’s a loser, fuckin loser.” He hissed, in his defence while his friend only clicked his tongue.

“I HATE HER.”

“Sure.”

Jungkook was not a stalker.

He was just…. Making sure of a few things,

He fixed his cap and tilted his body so you couldn’t see him, but he could see you,

All clearly.

“Umm Jungkook? Is that you?”

Fuck.

He quickly averted his gaze down to the floor, your footsteps approaching him, Jungkook wanted to run.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!” Your voice filled his ears, his body wasn’t reacting, how could be so dumb. “H-Hi loser.”

He gulped and finally made eye contact with you.

oh, you and your stupid pretty face.

Those eyes of yours annoyed him the most, so damn attractive it made his mind dizzy. “I didn’t know you liked the coffee here?” You laughed at his nickname for you.

He felt his cheeks get hot.

“So? What can I get you?” You looked at him with your eyes, he was getting nervous.

Damn your eyes.

“Ummm…. Whatever you like.”

Before Jungkook could stop his mouth, the words already came out.

“You mean, from my preferences?”

“S-Sure!”

He watched as you nodded with a cute expression on your face. He could feel his heart melt into a poodle.

ew.

“And…. WAIT Y/N…” he stood up before you could leave.

“Yeah?”

“Bring two. And have it with me. Keep me company…. Y-Your shift is almost over, isn’t it?”

“I-I need to tell you something…” he continued, wanting to look at you longer, his heartbeat rising.

I love you.

“Okay, give me a few minutes then.”

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biteofcherry · 2 years

Note

but mafia!steve PLS 🫠🔥🫠🔥😌

Nesting

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; forced relationship; unplanned pregnancy;

~ * ~

With a smile on your face, you tucked the envelope inside your handbag. A precious picture you were so scared to see at first, but now it filled you with warmth and love.

Well, your morning sickness definitely didn’t fill you with any positive feelings, but the doctor said they should lessen in a few weeks, once you start your second trimester. It was all still so new, so fragile to consider its development. But you already hoped for the best.

You tossed into the bin the paper towels with which you wiped the ultrasound gel off your belly and put your jacket on. The nurse waiting outside smiled at you, gave you a stack of leaflets and a list of necessary appointments.

She directed you to the main reception, so you could book the next needed one.

Just as you were writing down in your calendar the date of the next ultrasound, the lady behind the desk remembered something and said to you:

“Oh, I almost forgot! Your husband is waiting for you outside.”

You stared at her, confused. She had to mistake you for someone else, clearly.

“Husband? I don’t-”

“Yes.” She beamed. “Handsome fellow, but it seems he’s just as scared of clinics as the rest of men.” She laughed.

“You sure he’s here for me?” You asked hesitantly, an idea of who might it be already forming in your head. Terrifying you.

“I’m sure. He gave all the information on you.” The woman’s face flashed solemn, her tone professional as she assured you of the thorough check. “I admit, even my own mom sometimes forgets what year I was born in.”

“Thank you.” You forced out a smile, but your heart was hammering in fear.

You have no idea how he found you. Even less how he got so much detailed information about you. But then again, you shouldn’t be surprised now that you knew who he was.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The ruthless head of the New York mafia who was more lethal than a viper already sinking its teeth in your ankle.

And who, to you, was just a very hot man you hooked up with a month and half ago.

You met Steve in a fancy club your friends booked a booth at - apparently it was a club so exclusive getting a booth in it was nearly impossible. Now you understood why.

You’re not sure why you caught his attention when there were so many beautiful women in the place that night. But three flutes of Prosecco in and you were bolder than usual. You agreed to accompany him in his VIP booth while your friends went crazy on the dancefloor.

He disarmed you with his focus on you, his eyes never straying to any other woman. A charming gentleman who made you melt with the few moments of movie-like fairytale feeling.

And when he whispered into your ear how he wants to eat you out until you pass out from pleasure, you almost spread your legs for him right there in the club.

Steve took you to his place - an elegant penthouse, in a building you later learned belonged to him. A one night stand turned into whole weekend of him fucking you senseless and spoiling you with fancy food delivered to his apartment.

He also made you do the most depraved things; no one else has ever made you come just from fingering your ass and talking dirty to you.

Like he promised each time he was buried in your cunt, Steve filled you to the brim.

You leaked his cum even as you got home late on a Sunday afternoon - Steve’s driver dropping you off in front of your modest flat.

The result of his filling woke you up a few weeks later, making you vomit your guts out each morning. With your period being unusually late there was only one explanation.

At first, after you confirmed the pregnancy with your doctor, you planned on telling Steve. One night or not, he had a right to know. But you didn’t have his number, nor did you remember the exact address where he lived. So you googled him.

And the articles made your head spin.

You thought it’s a misunderstanding. Just a coincidence, but then one of your friends complained to you about her boyfriend - a cop - being angry that you went to a mob-owned club.

Further prodding revealed that The Shield club belonged to Steven Rogers himself.

You could no longer fool yourself with coincidences and similar names. In an instant you made a decision to never put your foot anywhere near the club and to hide from everyone who exactly was your baby’s co-creator.

So as you kept it to yourself, building a lie (not so far from the truth) about it being a result of a reckless one night stand, you started to forget about the real father. Sometimes you even calmed yourself by repeating he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with it anyway.

But there couldn’t be anyone else claiming to come for you by posing as your husband. And Steve had the influence to learn all the details about you, if he wished.

You cast a glance at the main entrance. He was waiting for you there. To do who knows what to you.

If he didn’t want the baby being born and you refused to get rid of it… a man like him would simply get rid of you to erase the problem.

Perhaps you didn’t stand a chance against the power of someone like Steve Rogers, but you could try saving yourself and postponing the inevitable. For a little while, at least.

Pivoting on your heel, you went in the opposite direction. You didn’t know if there’s a back exit and you feared asking anyone, but the restroom you used earlier had a window facing the park and it was only on the high ground floor, so the risk was minimal.

You smiled at a woman who was washing her hands when you entered and pretended to lock yourself in the stall. When you heard the door closing after her, you left the stall and opened the window.

You dropped your bag first, then sat on the windowsill and swung your legs over it. Carefully, you lowered yourself down, hands clutching onto the edge. You took a deep breath and let go, landing softly on your feet without much trouble.

“Shouldn’t be doing that in your state, sweetheart.”

A smooth voice startled you.

A familiar voice.

You could still recall the praises he moaned in your ear when you trembled beneath him.

You turned around sharply, heart jumping to your throat as you faced him.

Steve stood a few steps away from you, his back resting against the side of the sleek, black car parked on the sidewalk. Dark aviators shaded his blue eyes, but you knew he was watching you like a hawk, ready to react if you fled.

You frowned, surprised to see him here, considering the receptionist told you your husband was waiting at the front.

You looked in the direction where he was supposed to be. Steve’s chuckle drew your attention back to him.

“Fawns like you are predictable.” He said with a smirk.

“Now, come on,” he called your name as he moved to the side, opening the car door, “get inside.”

You didn’t even stir. You simply couldn’t, frozen in place out of fear and shock. A thought of running passed through your mind, but you were never a fast runner and you predicted Steve would be more pissed if he had to chase you.

That he would catch you was undeniable. With his long legs and stamina that drove you into almost passing out a few times.

Steve sighed when you didn’t follow his order.

Unhurriedly, he walked over to where you trembled, plastered against the coarse, concrete siding of the building. He crouched down to pick your bag then slowly straightened.

Fuck, you didn’t remember him being this tall and broad.

Steve slid his aviators down to the tip of his nose, his icy blue eyes piercing through you. He traced the shell of your ear with a single digit, then trailed it along your jaw. He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger before saying firmly:

“Get in the fucking car, sweetheart.”

This time you obeyed. He gave you no other choice as he guided you with his hand pressed against the small of your back.

You slid onto the backseat, curling in the corner against the opposite door. Steve got in right behind you. The moment he closed the door on his side the locks clicked in, trapping you inside with him.

The partition between you and the driver was pulled up, though you assumed Steve’s men were loyal to him enough not to react to a woman screaming for help.

“How do you find this clinic?” Steve simply asked, dropping your handbag on the seat on his other side. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to reach it without having to pass him.

“What?” You stared up at him, confused.

“I’ve heard it’s good, but I can get you into a top-shelf place.” While you were tense and strung up, Steve sat next to you completely relaxed. He took his sunglasses of, spread his legs wider.

You wrapped your arms protectively around your midsection, tears stung beneath your eyelids as you considered the potential meaning of his words.

“I’m keeping the baby!” you blurted out. Right that instant you knew you were ready to fight till your last breath to save your child.

Steve cocked his head to the side as he looked at you, a twisted warmth filling his eyes and making his smile even more charming.

“As you should.” He praised you.

He reached for you, wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you to his side. With his other hand he swatted your arms away from your belly and spread his fingers over the curve that would soon start swelling.

“You’ll give me more, too.” Steve hummed, his eyes glued to where his hand laid.

You were speechless. Initial fear of being forced to lose the baby turned into a completely new terror.

Steve’s words didn’t cut your life short, but they built a long, gilded-cage waiting for you.

“It’s about time I started nesting.” Steve chuckled, his hand moving to cup your chin and tilt your head back. “I don’t mind doing it with a sweet, little bird like you.”

He pressed his lips against yours gently, almost sweetly, as if he was a tender lover doting on his beloved. Then his tongue teased the seam of your mouth. When you didn’t open right away he bit your bottom lip, making you gasp and forcing his tongue inside.

You told yourself it was fear and adrenaline, but your nipples hardened and your pulse quickened.

“First things first-” Steve pulled away.

He took one of your hands and brought it to his lips, peppering kisses on each of your knuckles.

“We have to get you an engagement ring and order wedding bands as well.”

“Steve, I don’t understand-” your heart pounded so fast it rushed blood to your head and made you dizzy.

He intertwined your fingers and brought your clasped hands to his chest, just as he slipped his other hand to grip the back of your neck firmly.

“You’re mine.” He announced without remorse. “You became mine the moment I took you home. Now you’re going to be mine in every other way.”

#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #mafia!steve rogers #soft!dark Steve Rogers #mafia au #mob!steve rogers #my writing #nesting

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bucketsofmonsters · 2 years

Text

Proper Etiquette - Part 2 (Final Part)

cw: safewording, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, oral sex, mention of multiple partners, size kink, non-human genetalia

male demon x fem reader

word count: 7k

part 1 part 2

Your leg bounced nervously up and down, your thoughts racing too fast for you to be able to keep yourself still. You had to let your anxiety out somehow and when you were trapped in these small quarters, moving your leg up and down was the best you had.

You couldn't help but jump every time the carriage bumped over something on the path, the tension deep in your gut absolutely unshakable, no matter how many times you tried to snuff it out.

You could feel your husband's eyes on you as you sat there, your leg tapping up and down restlessly, and you looked up to meet his gaze. “What’re you looking at?”

His concern was evident, his eyes following your fidgeting and scanning your face. “What are you so worried about?” he responded, his voice soft and measured.

You shrugged, not sure you even had an answer. You weren’t scared the way you used to be, Rygel had long since extinguished that fear, but the anxiety remained. It was just all so new and strange, you weren’t sure anything could make your trip to such an unfamiliar place less daunting.

Rygel had given you plenty of time to adjust and prepare to leave your home, leaving it entirely up to you when you would head back to his kingdom. But as the weeks passed you knew you couldn’t stay forever. Eventually you’d have to return to Rygel’s home, to your new home.

Your goodbyes hadn’t been as tearful as you’d expected. For so long you’d known that you would get married off, it was almost a relief to finally know where you were going and not have the distant threat looming over your head anymore.

For the most part, you couldn’t have been happier. You’d always assumed that marriage would make you miserable, that it would just be another duty you had to endure, but instead you felt happier than you ever had before.

None of that took away from just how unknown your future was. Rygel had done his best to explain it to you but it was all so different from what you were used to, it was hard to wrap your head around.

Your gaze had drifted back out towards the window as your thoughts had started to swallow you up again but Rygel quickly brought you back to the present, his hand grasping under your chin and gently pulling your gaze back towards him.

“You can talk to me, you know,” he said, his hand shifting to cup your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into it, the physical affection more than welcome.

“I know. It’s just silly, I don’t want to worry you.”

“If it’s troubling you, I’d like to know about it.”

You weren’t used to this, to people caring so much about how you felt. “I’m just nervous, I’ll be fine.”

“Is that all?” he prodded.

You nodded, hoping that would be enough to ease his concern. You didn’t like making him worry over you, especially over something that felt so silly.

The hand that was cradling your cheek fell to your waist and before you understood what was happening, you were being pulled towards him and shifted onto his lap, his arms settling around you as he buried his head in your hair.

“Well, I can’t let my little wife be nervous all on her own, what kind of husband would that make me?”

You couldn’t help but squirm a little at the sudden movement, letting out a giggle. You practically melted into him. His touch had so quickly become comforting and now you couldn’t imagine life without it.

You tried to remind yourself that there’d be more of this there. Rygel had said that his people were more comfortable with physical affection than yours were and you let the thought ease your mind a little. No matter what happened, he would be by your side.

No matter how many times you reminded yourself of the thought, the pit in your stomach never quite went away.

You let out a sigh of disappointment as the carriage rolled to a stop, snuggling further into Rygel in a futile attempt to keep him there with you. He made no move to get out, allowing you to trap him there for now.

“We can stay in here if you want but I promise the rooms inside are more comfortable,” he reasoned with you.

You hated that he was right. Besides, as much as you wanted to hide in here forever, you did need to leave eventually so with a sigh you got up and prepared to see your new home for the first time.

The second you set foot within the castle walls you noticed was that everything there was massive. No longer was it Rygel bumping his horns in doorways and not fitting in beds, now you were the one out of place. You’d come to terms with the size difference with Rygel, he had come to feel safe, but here everything was so daunting.

You practically tripped over your own feet as you tried to take everything in at once, intent on gathering your bearings as quickly as possible.

Rygel’s hand on your back was grounding, something familiar while you grappled with something so new.

You let out a sigh of relief as Rygel said, “Let me show you our room.” You knew he could tell just how overwhelmed you were and you couldn’t be happier at the prospect of just getting some rest with him for a while. You were too wound up to do anything anyways, getting the chance to sleep sounded ideal.

You should’ve been trying to take in all the paths of the castle as you were led through them but it was all too overwhelming. Eventually you just tried not to pay too much attention to your surroundings, deciding that figuring this all out was an activity for after you rested.

Other than the size, the rooms here didn’t look all that different from what you were used to. You supposed it was probably better this way, if one of you had to be in a place not built for them, at least it wasn’t the one who was constantly hitting his head anymore.

Unlike in your old room, the beds here had more than enough space for Rygel. He hadn’t been kidding when he said you’d be drowning in bed space. You had to hop to get up on it and you heard him snort behind you at the sight.

You didn’t even take your clothes off, just needing to lay down for a while, collapsing on top of the sheets.

He didn’t press you on the matter, taking a minute or two to get situated before you felt the bed dip beside you as he sat down.

Before laying next to you, he pulled a blanket over you. Next to him and in this bed you felt so unbelievably small. This whole place made you feel small. You wondered if this was how Rygel had felt before, when his surroundings didn’t fit him, a painful and constant reminder that he didn’t belong.

The extra room didn’t make any difference, when he laid down next to you he was just as close to you as he always was, practically pulling you on top of him as he went to sleep.

Your day had been too long and too stressful for you to not pass out almost immediately.

You woke up after Rygel did, a rare event. Usually he was the one trying to pull you back under the covers and convince you to stay just a few minutes longer but now he was already getting ready when you woke up.

Your rose to join him with a yawn, your heart telling you to just bury yourself under the soft blankets again and sleep through the day. Instead, you pushed the thought aside and got ready.

He helped you lace up your corset as you got dressed beside him. He’d insisted on it lately. You were fairly certain he just wanted to help and no matter how much faster you could get it done on your own, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

There had been a steep learning curve, he wasn’t used to dealing with things so small, but his hands had grown gentler and more precise since you’d met.

As he finished tying the best bow he was capable of, he said, “There’s a meeting to discuss some policies soon.”

“I hope it goes well.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you not coming?” He quickly corrected course, careful to not push you too far. “Unless you don’t want to. If you don’t want to be involved that’s fine, I just thought…”

You hadn't even considered that there was a chance you’d be allowed to be more involved in things over here. Back at home you’d never even been permitted to hear about anything official, let alone sit in while it was discussed. “No! I’d love to be involved. I just didn’t expect it, I guess.”

You probably should have seen it coming, with everything Rygel had told you but you just couldn’t fathom it. Everything from before was working against you alongside the fact that you were a foreigner here, the idea that you’d be involved with anything hadn’t even crossed your mind.

As you arrived at the meeting, Rygel’s hand never strayed from your waist, the heavy presence endlessly comforting. You tried your best to take in your surroundings without looking lost and confused, although you were certain you were failing.

You didn’t miss the glances that came from others there, the whispers that happened after they set eyes on you. They were familiar, you recognized them as the ones that had been directed at Rygel when you’d been home.

He seemed just as discontent with them as you had been, shooting glares at anyone he noticed whispering behind your back.

You had to jump to get up on the chair and as much as you tried to not let it affect you, a pang shot through your chest. Nothing here was made for you, you didn’t belong here and everyone could see it.

The discussion started immediately. You’d never sat in on one of your father’s meetings but you were certain that this wasn’t how they went, with people talking over one another and getting into little debates.

It was hard to keep track of everything, trying to make sense of places you’d never heard of and references to discussions you’d never had. It felt like they were speaking a different language.

As everything wrapped up, you understood no more information leaving that meeting than you had going in. The only thing you had gained was confusion and frustration with yourself.

“They don’t like me.” You said it with a sigh, still trying to keep your tone light.

“I didn’t like you at first either,” Rygel reasoned with you in the now empty room. “They'll come around, trust me.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been wary of Rygel at first too, it wasn’t fair to expect them to accept you immediately. Still, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as his hand snaked around your hips and he pulled you into a quick kiss.

“Rygel!”

“Come on, there’s no one around,” he said as he nuzzled into your hair, pressing kisses into your forehead. “Am I not allowed to kiss my wife? Besides, you could use the distraction, I hate to see you worry. You know,” he prompted, “you can explore this place if you want, little princess, maybe that’ll help get you out of that troublesome little head.” He placed another soft kiss into your hair as he spoke.

You stayed glued to his side. refusing to leave the comfort of his presence and shook your head adamantly. “I want to stay with you.”

You didn’t leave his side for the rest of the day, not that he seemed to mind. You were a welcome distraction from anything he was doing, using most of his time to dote on you.

You decided to call it an early night. You still weren’t quite comfortable showing affection like this in public but even your limits were being tested.

You’d spoken about it before, about how he wanted to wait until you got settled in here before you tried anything beyond what you’d already done. That had seemed so far away, you’d almost pushed it from your mind but now here you were.

Not that you hadn’t been involved in other ways. Rygel couldn’t seem to get enough of you, figuring out what you liked, how to undo you. You hadn’t been shy either, he’d been a fantastic teacher and you more than enjoyed learning.

But this was something else entirely. The two of you were just having fun, exploring each other. This felt more important and serious, like you should be nervous about it, and that was one expectation you felt prepared to meet.

You’d heard so many stories, about how you’d bleed your first time, about how it would hurt. You’d even heard of men who would get upset if their wives didn’t bleed. You couldn’t make sense of it, the idea that one would have to hope to be hurt to prove their purity.

You knew your prince wouldn’t care about that but still, the thoughts plagued you. This wasn’t something new you were discovering for the first time with him, this was something you’d been very nervous about for a very long time.

Would it hurt?

You couldn’t imagine Rygel would ever knowingly hurt you but if human men were supposed to hurt, then surely Rygel would. You knew exactly how big it was, you were intimately acquainted with it in fact. You could barely fit it in your mouth, you had no idea how it was supposed to fit inside you.

Whenever he noticed you staring and saw that you were spiraling he snapped you out of it, kept you in the moment, but he couldn’t always be there to snap you out of your anxious spirals and you’d worried about it more than you liked to admit.

This time, however, he was there. It didn’t take him long to notice the state you were in once you’d reached your chambers and he quickly swept you off your feet, tossing you gently on the bed before sitting beside you.

“What did I say about talking to me, little one? What’s going on up there, hmm?” His hand captured your jaw, tilting your head to the side to inspect you.

You allowed him to, more than happy to let him move you around to his heart's content.

“You said we wouldn’t do anything until we were here.” Your words were hushed, like you were convinced that someone was listening in.

“I just meant I didn’t want to do anything on that tiny bed, wanted room to move. We have that here.” He moved over you as you spoke, as if proving his point, pining you to the sheets. “But,” he continued, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t feel ready to do.”

It was hard to think straight with him pinning you down like this, it was a miracle you were able to form words at all. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve gone all hazy on me already.”

You shook your head in protest, refusing to speak and let your voice betray you.

“I’m going to be so careful with you, I hope you know that. You’re so small, I’m afraid I might break you. I have half a mind to let someone smaller than me go first, open you up a little.”

Your face immediately flushed. “I… um…”

He laughed, as amused by you getting flustered as ever. “Come on, use your words,” he prodded, teasing you further as you opted to instead bury your head in his neck.

“You’re being mean,” you protested, still hiding your face, refusing to let him see just how flustered you were.

He was having none of it, gently pulling you away from him so he could get a good look at you. “There’s nothing wrong with this. It’s what we’re supposed to be doing, isn’t it?”

“I’m just nervous,” you explained, hoping he’d understand that it absolutely wasn’t his fault.

“We don’t have to, we can wait as long as you need.” He was always so patient, maybe too patient.

“No! I want to!” You winced at how loud you’d gotten in your protest.

He just chuckled. “Someone’s eager.” The humor left his face and his tone grew more measured. “The second you want to stop, you tell me, are we understood.”

You could tell exactly how serious he was, responding with a steadfast, “I will, I promise.”

As you reassured him, he leaned over you. “I’m going to fill you up, little one, how does that sound?”

You let out a whine that was already bordering on pathetic and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Maybe eager was right.

Not that he had any room to judge. It didn’t take long before he was pulling off your clothes, desperate to get to you. You helped as best you could between frenzied kisses.

It didn’t take long before you were spread out before him, doing your best not to get self-conscious and try to cover yourself. It was a habit that was difficult to break but Rygel had done his best to reward your efforts.

“There you go,” he said as he nudged your legs further apart. “Let me look at you.”

He didn’t waste any time, his hand immediately running up your leg to rub your clit while he pressed kisses into your inner thighs.

One finger pushed inside of you as his head raised to lap and suck at your clit and already you felt filled. The most you’d managed to take before was two of his fingers and you knew how much bigger his cock was. You really weren’t sure how you were going to manage it.

You didn't need to worry about that yet though. Rygel’s pace was slow, carefully working you open as he edged in a second finger. You couldn’t help but bear down on him as he whispered into your skin for you to relax.

Even the warm air from his mouth caused you to arch up into him. No matter how many times he did this with you, he never ceased to be able to unravel you completely.

And then he pulled away, looking down at you eagerly.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, your stomach a knot of nerves that you couldn’t seem to unravel.

You almost backed out the second you felt his dick press against you. You knew exactly how big it was, you couldn’t imagine fitting any of that inside you.

And yet you pushed on. You wanted it over with, to have your first time behind you already, to be able to escape these nerves that you seemed perpetually stuck with.

You couldn’t show any of this to Rygel, you knew that he wouldn’t continue if he knew the state you were working yourself into so instead you tried to push through, to convince yourself that once he was inside you’d be alright, encouraging him along.

Barely the head of his cock pushed inside and you were already feeling the stretch.

You tried so hard to be brave, you really did, but he was so big and this was so new and it was all so overwhelming.

“Stop, it's too much, I can’t,” you blurted out, your head spinning. You knew that if you sat there and endured it feeling like this he’d never forgive you. You both needed to stop, you couldn’t go on like this.

He pulled out immediately, searching for signs of pain in your face.

Tears started rolling down your cheeks immediately, upset that you’d backed out. You sputtered out some apologies as emotions overwhelmed you.

He pulled you into his chest, muttering kind words to you in that soft tone reserved for when you got panicked like this. “Hey now, don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. You did exactly what I asked you to do, you were so good for me.”

You sniffled, knowing he was right and yet still feeling like you’d let him down.

As you got a hold of yourself and calmed down properly, you pulled away and managed to ask, “What about you?”

“Don't worry about me, I didn't hurt you did I?”

You shook your head as a reassuring smile graced your face. “It’s my fault, I just started worrying again.”

“Thank you so much for telling me.” He sounded so proud of you and you almost started sobbing again, sinking into his embrace and letting yourself drift off, your head still buzzing with an ever-present anxiety.

You woke up and it was still there. You’d managed to obtain a stress headache in your sleep and your heart immediately started racing as soon as you got up.

Rygel stirred below you, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

“How are you doing?” he asked, looking down at you through hooded, sleepy eyes.

Not good. But you couldn’t say that and have him worry over you again so instead you attempted to pull away from him, muttering. “I think I need some air.”

He didn't let you leave, his arms remaining firm around you. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“I just… this place is too much. I don’t belong here, Rygel.”

“I understand how you feel,” he promised, his arms loosening so you could break free and turn to face him.

You weren’t convinced. “I don’t know…”

“I felt just as out of place in your kingdom as you do in mine.”

“But you knew you’d be coming home.”

It finally hit you just as you said it. You couldn’t run, you were here forever, even if they just kept hating you, no matter how out of place you felt.

“I’m going to go to the library.” You blurted it out on instinct. That had always been your go to place when you felt out of your depth at home, it didn’t have to be different here. Perhaps at least your panic zones could be the same, the one thing you carried with you.

“I can come with you.”

“I’m okay, I’ll find it on my own.” You didn’t give him the chance to voice the protest that you knew was seconds from leaving his lips, instead opting to just leave, offering what you hoped was a reassuring smile as you slipped out the door.

With a little trial and error and asking a few people for help, you managed to find your way there. It had more books than your library did, every wall stacked to the top with information.

You weren’t certain where to start but you did the best you could, trying to sort through the sections and managing to find a few maps and history books in your escapades, certainly enough to start learning. Maybe at this rate, you’d even be able to understand some of the things people were saying and you wouldn’t be quite so useless in the next meeting.

Determination washed over you as you continued, refusing to take a break and intent on learning as much as you possibly could. It was the best chance you had at feeling like you fit here, stuffing your head with all the information you could find.

You were there for hours and hours, how many exactly you couldn’t say. Everything else melted away, the incoming exhaustion barely even on your radar.

Regardless of whether you noticed it or not, said exhaustion certainly tested your spacial awareness. He probably wasn’t sneaking up on you and yet you practically jumped out of your skin when Rygel appeared seemingly from nowhere and said, “Need any help?”

You shook your head as the shock faded, eyes falling back to the map you were studying. “No, I just need to figure all this out.”

“You don’t need to figure it out on your own.”

“It’s the fastest way to get it done,” you reasoned. “I have to learn fast if I want to know what anyone’s talking about, to be even somewhat useful.”

He immediately caught on to what had sent you spiraling into this map-infested nightmare. “I brought you so you could learn, no one expects you to be an expert on your first day here”

“No, I need to prove myself.”

“Proving yourself isn’t worth working yourself to death. Besides, you don’t need to prove shit to anyone.”

You could tell he was upset, it was written all over his face. Not at you, probably at himself if you were being honest which broke your heart.

Before you got the chance to reassure him and tell him not to worry about you, he had already grabbed your hand. “Come on.” He pulled you away from your books and you looked up, confused.

“What?”

“I promised you we’d have fun when we got here, that’s what we’re going to do. Besides, we have flowers to plant.”

You couldn’t say no to that, he looked too excited for you to even consider it, so you let him pull you out of the castle, making a quick pitstop to pick up the pot of yellow flowers he’d brought with you.

You’d been too overwhelmed with everything going on inside to take in what was outside the palace so as he dragged you outside, you saw it all for the first time.

There were plants here, it wasn’t the barren wasteland you’d imagined, but he hadn’t been lying when he’d said there weren’t really flowers. The plants that were there were dark greens, grown out and untamed. It was a far cry from the neat, colorful garden you were used to.

Still, there was something about it. It was clearly wild but there was something nice about the sprawling vines and trees, taking up exactly as much space as they wanted to.

As you took in your surroundings, Rygel was planning besides you. “Let’s plant them by the river, I was told they need a lot of water.”

You nodded, agreeing with the assessment. “Yeah, they do. There’s a river near here?”

“There is, you’ll love it.”

He was more than happy to carry the little pot of flowers he’d brought all the way from your home and lead the way.

The river was green too, matching the terrain around it. The rocks were all covered with moss and the water was a muddy sort of green, so dark that you had no idea how deep the river was. The ground could be inches below the surface or miles deep and you’d be none the wiser. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a river like this, so deeply colored and Rygel was right, you loved it.

You’d notably forgotten shovels or any gardening tools, or more accurately Rygel had forgotten them considering you’d been kidnapped from your spot in the library. He didn’t seem to mind, content to sit down and start digging out a space for them in the mud with his hands.

You hiked up your dress and knelt down beside him, doing your best to keep your skirts clean.

He looked over at you, holding your bunched up skirts in your hands and snorted. “A little mud won’t kill you.”

You responded to his teasing with a pout. “I don’t want to make a mess.”

“You’re not going to help me?”

That got you, you couldn’t refuse that. With a futile attempt to prop the loose skirts of your dress up, you leaned forwards and tried to help him.

With the hole mostly dug, you got the chance to plant your flowers. You were as careful with them as possible, trying to make sure everything was perfect and that your little slice of home would be able to thrive.

You sat back and admired your work, the yellow flowers contrasting against the dark greens behind them.

“Do you like them?” Rygel was looking over at you, eagerly awaiting your response as his eyes flitted between your smiling face and the flowers he’d managed to bring for you and you just couldn’t help yourself, crashing your lips into his.

He reciprocated eagerly and you both immediately got caught up in it. You barely even noticed him leaning you backwards until your back was pressed to the soil. You could feel the mud pressing up against you through your clothes but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care, instead preoccupied with the overwhelming amount of affection you had for him.

Rygel was getting as close to you as possible, pressing desperately against you, and on instinct your hips rolled up against his. You felt his lips tick up in a small smile at your movements, although he refused to pull away from you.

His patience wasn’t infinite, though, and before long the both of you were eager to get back inside.

As he stood, you leaned back fully into the mud with a sigh. “Well, now my dress is definitely ruined.”

“Good. The first of many if I have anything to say about it.”

He stuck out his hand, pulling you to your feet the second you took it.

As soon as you were inside the palace walls the adrenaline started to fade and embarrassment started to kick in, worrying that every passing person was judging you for the state you were in.

The more people you passed, however, the more you noticed that the only stares you were getting were the same as the ones from before.

“I told you they wouldn’t care.” Rygel said as soon as you entered your chambers, clearly seeing the realization that had dawned on you when your pace had slowed on your return and you had let go of some of your tension.

“They were still staring.”

He dismissed the idea quickly. “That's because you're a little human, not because of some dirt. That’s probably the most normal thing they’ve seen from you since you got here.”

You’d already started working on removing your muddy clothes and in an unusual turn of events, Rygel didn’t rush over to help. As helpful as he’d become with putting your clothes on in the morning, he always seemed even more eager to get them off.

Not today though. Today he headed off to the bathroom to do who knows what as you pulled yourself out of your dress, trying not to mess up the floors too badly as you made a pile of your dirty clothes.

When you finally cleaned the mess into a neat little pile, you ducked your head into the bathroom, wondering what he was getting up to.

He gave you a toothy grin above what you quickly recognized as a bubble bath. He beckoned you over, grabbing onto you and plopping you into the bath as soon as you were within arms reach.

You moved forward, leaving room for him behind you and he quickly took the hint, the warm, soapy water rising around you as he sat. His chest was pressed to your back as you relaxed into him.

A sweet scent filled the room and he started to clean you, wiping off all the grime. You made a move to help him but he quickly swatted your hand away before returning to his mission, his hand rubbing up and down your legs.

It didn’t take long before you were clean again, although that didn’t stop his hands from roaming across your form. “Told you getting dirty wasn’t such a big deal, it’s all fixed now.”

“My dress is still a mess,” you reminded him gently, although you didn’t really mind. A dress was a small price to pay for moments like this.

“There will be more dresses,” he reassured you.

As you leaned back into him, you couldn’t help but run through the events of the day and your mild panic from earlier. Your voice was soft and timid as you finally convinced yourself to ask, “Does it really not bother you that I don’t know anything about this place yet?”

“Of course it doesn’t. I barely understood what a garden was when we met, we both have blind spots.”

“I just don’t want to let you down,” you admitted

“You couldn’t if you tried, little one. Just relax for me, everything you need to know I will help you learn, alright?”

“Mmhmm.” Your stress from before was melting away and the warmth and the sweet smells were lulling you to sleep. He didn’t prompt you further as a silence fell over the two of you, his hands still ghosting across your skin as you focused on the feeling of his breathing, his chest rising and falling behind you.

You didn’t even realize you were nodding off until you were being woken by being gently dried, opening your sleep lidded eyes to meet Rygel’s with a smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out on you,” you muttered, the warm air in the room still leaving you drowsy.

“I don’t mind, I’m just glad to see you relax.”

“I’m always relaxed around you.”

He chuckled. “If only that were true. When it’s just the two of us, maybe.”

You conceded the point, although you still weren’t sure if he knew just how much peace he brought you just by being near. You mind had been racing nonstop for most of your life, with him is was the quietest it’d ever been, like your body was just now learning how to let its guard down

Rygel wrapped you in the soft towel and carried you gently to the bed as he looked for something for you to wear to sleep. Historically, he did prefer sleeping in the nude but you could tell he didn’t want to push you right now.

He only had a towel around his waist and your eyes traced over his broad back up to his horns, the ones that made his silhouette all the more intimidating. You remembered just how frightened you’d been when you first saw him, his horns and his inhuman skin and his large stature. Now you couldn’t muster anything but affection while looking at him.

“Can we try again?”

He turned to you, his search immediately forgotten. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. You just felt so sleepy and calm and he was so handsome, it had honestly never felt like a better idea. Maybe this was how you were supposed to have felt on your wedding night, absolutely infatuated and relaxed and wanting more.

He wrapped his hands around your thighs and pulled you softly down the bed towards him. “I still need to prep you first.”

You had no protests and he pulled the towel off of you and immediately buried his face in your core. You hand wrapped around his horns, still needing something to hold onto no matter how many times he did this.

He chuckled into you, the vibrations sending a chill up your spine as he said, “Look at how wet you are already, is all of this for me?”

You frantically nodded, not sure if you were capable of words right now.

Two fingers slipped inside you and you pushed your hips up into his hand, wanting more. You couldn’t even think about the stretch right now, the need for him all consuming. You could barely keep track of what was happening, a mess of sensations consuming you as his fingers moved inside you while he sucked at your clit.

Instead of letting it be overwhelming, you let yourself go, gave up on the thought of being able to make sense of it. Just let yourself feel and get swept away by the pleasure building in your stomach.

All too soon, Rygel pulled away, his face covered in your slick from you grinding up on him. You moved your hand down to touch yourself but he caught your wrist before you could, studying your face as he held you back from what you needed.

“Do you want to touch yourself or do you want me to touch you?”

“You,” you whined. “I want you, please.”

He lined himself up, giving you ample time to back out but instead you pushed up against him again.

For the second time, you felt the head of his cock pressing into you and your hands gripped the sheet beside you, something to anchor you as he pushed inside.

He pushed in further and you did your best to relax. He cooed at you with every inch he pushed inside, his hand rubbing your clit as he moved. The stretch stung a little but it wasn’t hard to focus instead on how good it felt, on his movements against your clit and the delicious friction of his cock against your walls.

Every time he paused you thought surely this must be all of it but time and time again, after you adjusted, he kept pushing inside you, your walls straining to accommodate him.

Finally, his pelvis sat flush with yours and he stilled completely, giving you all the time you needed. You took a deep breath, hands fisting the blankets as you adjusted to his size. Your head was buried in his chest, your deep breaths fanning over his skin.

“You’re so big,” you whined, that the only thought you were capable of at the moment.

He just grunted and you could feel how labored his breathing was, his chest heaving above you.

“Can I move?” His voice was strained.

You nodded and attempted to pull him towards you, praying he’d get the message.

The thrusts started slow, pulling out a little just to push right back in and be fully seated inside you again. It was as if he couldn't stand to go too far, to leave behind the tight heat of your cunt.

The more he moved, slowly and patiently in and out of you, the more the pain faded. The pleasure was no longer just a distraction, it was all you could feel.

As you fell into the pit of pleasure, Rygel’s pace picked up. His movements were measured and careful but you could feel him chasing his own release, his desperation clear.

He rubbed up against that perfect spot inside you and that combined with being filled almost pushed you over the edge on its own. As soon as he heard the strangled moan leave your throat, he began pushing into that spot with every thrust, determined to make you come.

As his movements sped up, that tension from before returned with a vengeance, winding tighter and tighter, but you needed more.

Your legs hooked up around him as best you could. “Faster,” you pleaded

He obliged happily, pulling almost all the way out and then thrusting back in. That combined with his hand relentlessly playing with your clit pushed you over the edge, your body rolling up into his and forcing him impossibly deeper as you came.

His hand left you as you came down from your orgasm, his thrusts still coming as he let out a grunt, your walls squeezing him in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

With one final, hard thrust inside of you, you felt him flood your insides, pulling you up into his chest as he did. You could feel the pounding of his heart as he emptied himself inside of you, getting you as close to him as he possibly could.

He pulled out of you and the emptiness almost felt foreign now as you clenched around nothing.

Rygel shifted beside you, looking at you expectantly. “How do you feel?”

You felt like you were almost in a daze. “Amazing,”

His hand reached up to touch your face. “Not so scary anymore?”

You leaned forwards to kiss him before pulling away so you could study his face, his eyes still trailed intently on you. “Not so scary anymore,” you confirmed.

You reached your hand down between your legs, feeling his cum dripping slowly out of you onto the sheets. You pushed some back inside you, already missing the sensation of being filled.

“You made a mess of me,” you said, pulling your hand up to your mouth to clean the cum off of it as even more of the seemingly endless supply he’s pumped into you spilled out onto the bed.

His dark eyes looking up at you with all the adoration in the world, the sight matched only by the fondness in your own. He pressed kisses into your stomach, a giggle escaping you as he did.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up.”

#terato #terato writing #teratophillia #monster x reader #monster x human #demon x reader #demon x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #my writing #proper etiquette #this one goes out to all the lovely anons that really wanted a part 2 <3

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taeyegu · 1 year

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introduce me a good person — 014. the light

previous // next

word count — 839

warning(s) — wonwoo fainting lmao

by the time y/n finally arrived to wonwoo's office (thirty-five minutes late by the way), she finds wonwoo curled up into a shivering ball on his couch in front of his desk.

"wonwoo?" y/n's soft voice startled wonwoo and despite his messy appearance from almost having a mental breakdown at the thought of y/n ditching him, he got up to allow his friend in and to shut the door of his office.

"y/n, h-how are you?" wonwoo wanted the ground to swallow him up... it's been almost a few weeks since you've seen her and the most he can muster up is 'how are you'?

he was grateful to see her smile, "well i just got out of a five hour surgery if that gives you a hint." she giggled, "and by the way, i'm sorry for keeping you waiting, i wanted to freshen up a little bit before i saw you." the softness in her voice almost made wonwoo melt.

"no problem! i was fine!" his awkward smile totally gave everything away but y/n didn't bother to say anything. she was probably just as nervous as he was.

the two friends sat down across from each other. wonwoo took a deep breath to ready himself for this conversation. despite them being friends for a majority of their lives, this was probably one of the hardest conversations wonwoo was about to partake in. even his med school interviews cower in the face of wonwoo having to actually talk about his feelings in front of the person he's been in love with since he could remember.

"i'm sorry." the both of them announced at the same time.

"what? why are you apologizing y/n?" wonwoo was puzzled, "i should be apologizing, i was acting stupid this entire time."

"i know!" y/n laughed, "but i was being stupid too and i was basically egging on soonyoung, jun, and jihoon to help me." y/n startled twirling the ends of her hair. it was a habit she had picked up during their med school rotations as a way to help soothe her whenever she was nervous. however since they started their job at svt hospital, she decided to cut her hair shorter to keep herself from fiddling.

"joshua and i are just friends. i don't know whatever plan the three stooges put up but joshua and i are just friends wonwoo."

a huge weight lifted off his shoulders because honestly if this was going to be another unrequited love situation, wonwoo was honestly going to probably move to live at the north pole and wallow away in his sadness.

"oh thank god." he couldn't even hold that comment in, "y/n, i'm not the best at timing but you should know i've been in love with you for as long as i can remember." his deep voice tinted y/n's cheeks pink. "i thought i was always content with just being in your life but when i found out sejun was cheating on you, i couldn't control myself. i know you deserve the best... even if the best isn't with me."

before wonwoo could continue with his speech that he spent the last two days rehearsing in his room, y/n interrupted him.

"wonwoo you are the best for me." it was wonwoo's time to sit there stunned, "i liked you since college but sejun always told me that you only saw me as a friend and i just believed him since you two were friends/roommates--"

"i hated that guy with all my guts y/n, he makes me sick!" wonwoo interjected like a child.

"i realize that now..." a small sigh left y/n. "even though the timing for us is a little off, at least we're here now."

"that's all i could ever ask y/n." wonwoo reached across the coffee table to grab her hands. "but before we continue with anything else, i also wanted to apologize. i was being stupid and irrational. i hurt you and our friends and i'm so sorry."

y/n's soft hands covered his in a reassuring way. "i know i'm emotionally constipated but i'm working on it. i'm bettering myself for myself and hopefully for you too y/n."

"you don't have to better yourself for me wonwoo." y/n's gentle voice comforted him, "i love you just the way you are."

"i know but-- wait what?!"

"hm? did something happen?" y/n questioned, genuinely confused as his reaction.

"y-you just said that you l-love me..." wonwoo barely whispers.

y/n nodded confidently. "yes i did." she smiled, "you said you love me too!"

wonwoo felt his head spinning again. the love of his life knows that he loves her? it's not the end of the world but when did he confess? isn't love too serious right now? oh god why is he seeing the light right now.

and the last thing wonwoo hears is y/n's shocked voice calling out his name as he passes out on his couch.

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pinkcarnatixns · 9 months

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ellie williams | a slow pull, a seismic drift

synopsis ellie can't help but be absolutely smitten in your presence [1K] warnings university au, loser!ellie kinda, mentions of chest and thighs, fem!reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Ellie Williams never claimed to be a particularly diligent student. She always found herself scraping by in classes she had no interest in, her attention instead pulled to the margins of the page where her pen scribbled up random doodles until the professor’s droning came to a halt. However, this shouldn’t have been the case for this class, she thinks bitterly. What should have been an enjoyable lecture that was highly applicable to her in-progress astrophysics degree quickly became the ‘bane of her existence,’ as she had explained it to Dina countless times.

She felt this same frustration bubbling in her gut as the bright presentation in front of her blurred and the professor’s voice faded into the background. Finally, she decided to give up on the (messy) notes that she had been trying so hard to record, and felt her forehead crease up- throwing her pen down in an unnecessarily aggressive way. To her absolute chagrin, this action seemed to have caught your attention, and she felt her face grow hot as your hand- (soft and gentle, she duly noted) creeped across the inches of smooth desk. You plucked the pen from her with a kindness that she had not afforded it, and she briefly wondered if you would treat her with the same tenderness that you offered an inanimate object. She watched your hand dance across the bottom of her page, zoning out until you had put the pen down- leaving a swirly ‘you okay?’ and an accompanying frowny face. As she willed herself to meet your waiting gaze, she found a similar likeness in the drawing and your expression, and found to her dislike that she held a near affection for both.

Your eyebrows were pulled together and up, and she felt her chest seize lightly at the puppy-dog eyes that you were giving her. Even though you were currently the cause of her great frustration, she found herself melting under the warmth of your gaze. God, you’d only talked briefly at the beginning and ends of class for the past month, she thought. There should be no reason for her to be this whipped. Interrupting her embarrassment, she came to the realization that she had completely left you hanging and mouthed out a quick “Can’t focus,” while avoiding your gaze and pretending to pay attention to the screen. In doing this, she quickly registered that she had fucked up- royally. As she glanced back to gauge your reaction, all she found was confusion. Before she could process anything more than the soft rolling of your chair wheels over the carpet, she was hit with a whiff of your perfume and the subtle warmth of your skin burning a hole through the arm of her flannel. Your hand was at attention next to your ear, and you briefly wondered what was taking her so long to tell you as she failed to emit a response. As your eyes glanced back towards her, Ellie was completely stunned, seemingly dragging her gaze from your chest back to your face. You were staring at each other for what felt like years, faces heating up, before the glaring lights clicking on broke you both out of your trance like a snap to attention.

As you realized your proximity to her, and the absolute flushed shade of her face, you quickly moved back in the chair- accidentally knocking her pen case to the floor in your haste.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” you rush out.

She rushed to the floor to retrieve the scattered stationery, quick to find an excuse to hide her burning face from your sight, failing to realize your similar state. You were completely frozen as to how to help, hands dangling in the air in front of you, still sat in the chair. As Ellie perched on her knees in front of you, she felt a slight tremble in her hands, picking up pens and highlighters of varying shades around your shiny shoes. Realizing that you were being of no assistance at all, you quickly stood up, prepared to help her with the mess you caused. Instead, the new position forced her to have an up-close look at your soft thighs and some of the moles that adorned them. All Ellie heard in her head were blaring alarms as she focused on proving to you that she isn’t a complete perv, falling victim to her instincts to flee. In her panic, she ended up falling completely on her butt and once again, staring dumbly up at you with her arms keeping her up behind her.

Selfishly, you first noticed the hair that had fallen out of her half-up bun in her panic, and thought that you’d like to move the strands back to their rightful place. You attempt to stifle the immediate thought after that, which is that Ellie happened to look quite pretty splayed on the floor like this. Ellie feels the ends of her lips quirk up into an awkward smile, breaking you both out of the moment and devolving you both into a fit of giggles at the circumstance. You briefly note the absence of your classmates as you take a quick glance around the hall, only for your glance to once again gravitate towards Ellie. Ellie realizes that the way she smiles up at you from the ground could be considered as nothing less than reverence, but fails to feel the same embarrassment that got her into her current situation.

Your cheeks grow impossibly warmer at her unabashedness, and you regard her with a newfound sweetness as you extend your hand and bend your knees.

“Need some help?” you tease.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Ellie smirks as she hoists herself up to a closeness she can’t avoid falling victim to when around you- a gravitational pull.

You both share another shy giggle, and find your hands entwined for a little longer than needed. As you drop each other’s hands and move towards your bags, Ellie smiles to herself at the newfound closeness- your shoulders nearly touching. Her hand tingles as she picks up her pen case, smiling at it like a trophy before shoving it back into the front pocket of her beat-up backpack. She finds that both her cheeks and hand remain warm as you walk shoulder-to-shoulder out the door and go your separate ways. Oh, Dina is going to never hear the end of this.

#ellie williams x reader #loser!ellie #ellie tlou #the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fluff #lesbian #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x y/n

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444rockstargf · 2 months

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Can you do a !soft!dom Dan Cooper x !sub! fem! Reader where Dan is basically praising her and treating her right and stuff? I only saw one Danny fic where he’s a soft dom and I was addicted. I need this rn. Also ur writing is addicting.

aww this made my heart melt <3 and I havent written for danny since october lmao

"wrap you up in my daisy chains." | dan cooper

summer bummer. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @icarus-star @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @kashmirclam @yungbloodsuxca @oliviah-25 @livingdead-reilly @vanlisbon @auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @

sub!fem!reader x softdom!dan

word count: 1.3k

contents: fluff, soft dom danny, blowjob, praise, cum eating

“well isn’t this just the perfect thing to come home to?” dan stepped into the room, a few strands of hair plastered onto his forehead. you knew how demanding the food-delivering job could get, so you did your best to provide dan with a treat of his own when he arrived home. one that you knew would rot his mind until he could finally come back to you again.

a smile lit up his face as he tore off his tie, tossing it to the side as he kicked off his shoes and made his way to you. then he made his way over to where you were sat on the bed clad in a baby-pink nightgown that left little to the imagination. he picked you up, spinning you around and wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “there’s my angel…”

you wrapped your legs around his dainty waist, your hands finding his tight bun and pulling out the black hairtie you’d lent him, releasing his luscious brown waves. he lifted his lips to yours and gave you a deep kiss, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you on his lap.

you cradled his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing over the light dusting of stubble on his jaw. you pulled away, taking in the appearance of his tense muscles and tired eyes. you pouted a little. “hard day..?” you asked softly. he sighed. “you know it.” he placed his hands on your hips. “but you know exactly how to make a guy feel better, hm?” you giggled, nodding at the subtle praise in his words.

you noticed a slight change of atmosphere as his gaze turned to one of lust instead of innocent affection. the corner of his lip went up in a grin. “you really put this together for me? god, i’m the luckiest man in the world.” you kissed him on the top of the head as his thumbs peaked underneath the thin fabric.

he lifted you up a little before putting you in a much better position. one where you were sprawled across his knee, your ass in the air to give him a perfect view of what he had been missing all day. the nightgown slid up your ass as his soft, warm hand kneaded the flesh gently, sweet words spilling from his lips. “you look beautiful, doll…”

you felt your cheeks heating up and a bulge pressing against your stomach. he was hard already. no matter what you did, you always had a way of turning his libido on like a switch. he used a hand to gently turn your face so you were looking at him, using his finger to gently toy with your lips. “i’ve missed this pretty face…”

your face lit up from the accolade as he slipped his thumbs between your lips, making you suck on it as his other hand began to play with you through your panties. you already felt your body beginning to tremble from the desire, his hard cock pressing against your gut in such a teasing way not making things better in the slightest.

you squeezed your legs together in a desperate attempt for more pleasure. “i’m guessing my sweet girl missed me too.” he cooed, shifting back onto the bed so that he was leaning against the headboard. he looked at you through deeply smitten eyes. “why don’t you help me get out of all this?”

he had a hand resting on his boner, wanting you to pick up on what he was saying. you crawled backward until you were laying on your stomach, face to face with the protruding mass in his pants. you fiddled with the zipper, not doing much before his cock sprang out, hitting you on the nose. he laughed softly, patting your cheek apologetically.

his tip was already glazed with precum, veins bulging as his cock seemed to beg you for pleasure. you swallowed hard, looking up at him with your amorous eyes and meeting his pleased stare.

you took a deep breath, the air hitting his tip and making his breath hitch. then you went for it, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking the first few inches down your throat with ease. he gasped, his hand finding the back of your head and gripping a handful of your hair. you gagged your throat contracting around his pulsating muscle.

he spoke, his voice slightly shaky. “easy there, angel.” you nodded, taking that last chunk of it with a deep gulp. a shiver ran down his spine as he entered the warmth of your throat, feeling the flutter of your uvula hitting his tip.

you slowly bobbed your head on his length, looking him right in the eye as you searched for any sign of approval. but he was already in wonderland, lips parted and eyes shut as blood began to flow to the most primal part of him. unintentionally, his hand tightened around your hair as he grabbed it with more force than intended.

“j-just like that, doll…” you licked up his girth, using your hand to fondle his balls and the base of his dick while your mouth took care of the tip. a method that you’d found worked with him the best. he gulped, a bead of sweat running down his forehead as he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth, your throat beginning to bruise.

“god… you’re so perfect. so, so good for me…” his hand gripped your jaw, making you swallow the whole thing at once. tears pricked your eyes and your mouth watered, bubbles of spit running down his cock.

dan swallowed a groan, forcing himself to keep his composure as he looked right into your eyes. the irony of it all was that you never looked more innocent than when his dick was down your throat. you placed your hands on his thighs as he fucked your throat, the intoxicating sound of your lewd gagging and gurgling filling the room.

you reached a hand back, slipping your panties to the side and letting out your dripping wet cunt. you rubbed sloppy circles on your hard clit, slipping your fingers in and moaning around his manhood. he chuckled softly, using all his strength to muster up his words. “you’re gonna make such a mess of me, sweetheart.”

you pumped your fingers in and out of yourself, your busted up pussy greedily swallowing them whole. dan had full control of you, both his hands forcing your head down all the way as a deep groan emerged from his gut. his hot cum felt like lava pouring down your esophagus, travelling all the way down to your intestines.

he came in loads that were surely enough to fill buckets and then some. but you swallowed every last drop, not letting any go to waste. you pulled your head off, strings of cum connecting you to his tip as you coughed up bubbles of his seed. he patted your back, realizing that he got carried away. as usual.

“i-im so sorry, baby. you know how i get when it comes to you.” you managed to choke out a laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes and letting him pull you back onto his lap. you took a hold of his softening cock, tucking it back into his pants and giving it a little pat. he laughed a little at your simple sign of affection, pulling your into another kiss, tasting the remainder of himself in your mouth.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder as he stroked your back. “my sweet angel,” he whispered, “you’re absolutely heavenly. and you always know how to cheer me up, dont you?” he gives you a small peck on the nose, making you smile. “i love you more than life itself, my love.” he said quietly.

and as you swallowed the last little bit of his cum, you knew he meant it.

author's note: this fic is longgg overdue, but I have more coming. thank you all for the requests!

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #dom thoughts #praise #dom/sub #dan cooper #danny cooper #intruders #intruders 2015 #lust for life #summer bummer #lana del rey

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 2 months

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Beneath Miles of Stone - Part Nineteen - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: death, HEAVY NSFW, spanking

John gets around three good hours of rest. Guilt sits heavy on his chest for killing the woman in Marcus’s guest room.

He sweeps a sweat damp slice of hair from delicate, puttering eyelids, and kisses a sweaty forehead.

She’s beautiful. She still has tiny red lines in her cheeks from the plaster, and just looking at them pisses him off.

He longs to protect her. Preserve her. Traditions instilled in him from a young, spongey brained age where women were meant for less brutal fates than men guide him and probably always will.

It’s why he feels guilty for killing the young assassin, and he’s certain that was the ultimate goal of her employer. Insidious bullshit.

Someone means to expose his soft underbelly, and they’re doing a fucking fantastic job, because here she is, silky and open and raw, snoozing on his chest.

He smooths his palm up and down her spine, hoping to be soft enough to keep her in the land of dreams, but she stirs.

“Shh,” he says, running fingers lightly over the bottom of her hand to the point of her elbow.

“I think you’re bad at keeping someone asleep.” Her smile is against his chest, and he grins back.

“I can get worse.”

She nuzzles, tired giggles prickling his skin. “Did you take your medicine yet, Johnathan ?”

“No nurse. I was waiting for you to wake up and feed it to me.”

She goes to get up and do just that, but he tugs her back down. “Where you going?”

She looks confused. Adorable. He tips her chin up to admire how pretty she is. “To get… your pills.” Wearing a goofy grin.

He kisses it away. “You think I’m actually going to take them?”

He’s kidding, but her immediate reaction - shock, anger, determination - makes the joke worthwhile.

She opens her mouth to either scold him or appeal to his rationality, but he starts laughing.

“Okay, you suck,” she grumbles, poking his ribs.

He kisses her - again. She tries to say something else, but he shuts her up with his mouth. Then more. Grabs her, drags her up so he doesn’t have to lean down to get to her lips.

She cradles his head while he holds her hips and pulls her closer, on top.

“Oh, Johnny,” she coos, hands massaging his scalp.

The big tiger vibrates, closes his eyes and thrums in pleasure.

She kisses his mouth, then his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, his collar, hiccups a squealing noise into the dip of his throat when his hand gives her butt a tap.

“Couldn’t resist,” he admits, smoothing over the sore, cherry love mark, pulling fabric up over the naked bottom of her ass.

“No, I like it.” Her voice is muffled, mouth busy with the skin where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Do you?” He teases, giving her another playful slap.

She repays this with a sharp bite over his deltoid.

He tucks her in and rolls over, causing a little cloud of air to puff from her chest in an ‘oof.’

He pats her cheek. “You okay, baby?”

He might be a big dog who gets too excited and knocks her over, but she adores him. Pretty melted caramel eyes steeped in sunlight promise safety - shelter from anyone and anything - and she believesthem.

She kisses his bottom lip, pushes his hair back. “I’m fine. You’re not so scary.”

He bites the space between them, feigning a purposeful, hungry growl, inducing adorable, nervous giggles from his prey.

Any starving wolf would be far too weak to resist sinking their teeth into her throat. He’s no exception.

Kisses like fire wherever he goes, her skin on fire, everything on fire. Chest, brain, guts, lower, more intimate, the swirl of his tongue and suck of his mouth.

He’s on the pad of her fingers, lapping happily and biting the insides of her wrists, hands walking down her sides into places that make her writhe.

Reluctance to have his mouth on her is long gone, because she needs him. Needs that sloppy wet lick on her clit instead of her elbow crease.

He props himself on one arm, kisses her skyward nipples, then replaces his lips with his thumb and proves he can have more effect on her without even touching her. Because he sucks the digit into his mouth, obscene and plopping, wetting it up for no reason other than to make her whole being clench and falter, and presses it against her already wet enough cunt.

Oh no , she cannot watch that little grin spread while he sinks into slick velvet folds and finds her nerve rich pearl.

She pulses around him, whine high and tight in her throat as his index finger traverses the soft gap between her clit and her entrance. He’s attentive, touching and flicking and pinching the way she likes, rubbing languid circles over her tight opening until it’s attempting to swallow him up.

“John.” Her voice threads with a little madness, frustration so apparent on both sets of puffy, swollen lips.

“I know, baby, I’m gonna make you cum,” he assures, resisting the suck of her little cunt. “Ask me nice.”

It’s not hard to beg him when she’s so pent up she could die. “John, will you make me come, please?”

So polite, just like her hole when it invites his finger in. Her gspot is easy to find, all swollen and popping and begging - helpless little sponge that’s going to be her unraveling. He works over it gently, letting her tremble on the wandering callous, then hooks his finger on the back and curls. Soft, kneading, working at it like a sore muscle, building a bright white warmth that floods every inch of her.

“Oh, fuck,” she says. He kisses the tears off the fat of her breasts.

“You’ve been neglecting this,” he admonishes, rubbing, smiling.

She nods, uhhuh, sticky cries drowning out the squelch of a happy pussy.

“Need you to tell me how that feels, honey.”

She tries to say, “good.”

“You want my cock and can’t even take my fingers?” He tsks. “Silly girl.”

Too soon she’s ready to convulse on his hand, and she tells him this, almost too late, struggling to get anything out of her mouth besides lewd sobs.

“Cum for me, my love,” he whispers, right on her throat, not thinking about the weight of those words - not consciously, anyway.

Luckily, she’s too busy to care right now.

Oh. They should have put a towel down.

She’s coming, moaning loud enough for the neighbors to use as an alarm clock, she’s… crying? Whimpering - fat beads of salt and bitten off mewls.

“Why?” He asks, kissing and tasting her tears. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she chokes.

“Tell me,” he insists, persistent and soft, rubbing down her hair and back, holding a little too tight. He untucks his fingers from her carefully.

“Because I am scared.”

“I’m telling you, be afraid if you want to be afraid of me. Feel what you feel. It’s okay.”

“But you don’t really want me to be afraid of you..”

“Maybe at first, but not now. Every emotion you feel, I want it. Every thought you have, whether it be that I’m a monster or a hero - I don’t give a damn - I want it. Because, no matter what you think of me, I’ll still want you just as bad.”

“John-“

“Be afraid, it won’t change the way I feel about you.” He cups her cheeks, kisses her head. “It won’t change.” His eyes are leaden anchors to her tiny tugboat heart.

She grasps his wrists, leans in to kiss his palms, the pad of his thumb.

He presses her back against the sheets, rests his head against her own, and lets her mouth make its way over each tip of his fingers.

“I hate myself,” she tells him.

“Tell me why,” he asks, palm smoothing her chest.

“Because I’m not afraid for other people’s lives, anymore. This entire time, I’ve been selfish and awful. I’m afraid for me.”

He nods. “That’s okay, honey, told you that was okay.”

“But I’m not afraid of you, John.”

His brows furrow.

“I’m afraid you’re going to leave me. It’s all I can think about.” Embarrassment turns her eyes away.

He almost grins. “That is a ridiculous fear.”

She stops, her voice muffled by his ring finger. “And why is that?”

“You should be more afraid of the opposite,” he tells her, casting shudders through her skin with that dropped tone at her hairline.

“Of you not leaving me?” She asks, trying to breathe while he circles his fingers around her nipples.

“Of you ever leaving me.” He nips at her ear, rolls his tongue down the side of her neck. “And then me finding you. Because I will, sweet girl, I will find you.” Her hands latch onto his hair while he kisses over the tops of her breasts, flays her open, sucks more bruises into her as if she hasn’t had enough already.

“And when I find you,” he whispers against her shoulder, “I will lock you up and keep you all to myself, and there will be nowhere to run, and no one to save you from me.”

“Oh,” she says, although it comes out more like a strangled little ah, and then another, soft and desperate,

“ Ah, ah ”,

When he finds her now shy clit and forces it to re-socialize with his fingers.

“Let me taste this,” he demands, trekking over engorged, slippery places. “I’m gonna fucking die if I don’t taste your pussy.”

“Just go slow,” she asks.

He’s more than happy to oblige.

By the time he’s done kissing and licking every inch of her upper body, tormenting already sore skin, she’s a fucking mess again, pleading for something, anything. Always begging for him, needing more, desperate and whiny and he loves it.

His mouth, her thighs, back of her knees, making her twitch and moan, down each calf again, and fuck this man, fuck his sly grin, fuck his greedy lips kissing her heels, the tops of her feet, then her curling toes.

And has she ever been too turned on to be ticklish?

She has now.

“C‘Mon, John,” she says, and gets a big bite on the fat of her inner thigh as reward.

He’s beginning to realize that he really does like her bruised rather than not.

He huffs a laugh onto the fuzzy mound of her cunt, makes her hips come off the bed before he quiets them back down. Kisses each crease where plump, more delicate flesh meets strong, tensing thigh.

In here, the warm hallmark movie between her thighs where everything is sweet and right and good, he settles and kisses.

“John please-“

“Don’t even know what you’re begging for,” he muses, teasing the twitching, silk folds protecting her clit.

She grabs his hair and pushes his face into her cunt. He obliges, delighted by this, nose nuzzling her clit.

The vague thought of smothering him makes her loosen up a little, that and the fact he’s licking at her entrance, swallowing her cum, and it’s way too much all at once.

Dying drowned in her pussy would be a preferable and honorable end.

He grabs her hands, kisses her palms, runs his tongue over the lined tissues and makes her glare and snarl - frustrated Pomeranian. He clicks at her, easy little beast, placing both hands at her sides. “Gonna tell me what feels good?” He asks, knuckles spreading her open.

“Yeah,” she whines, eyes teary and beautiful.

His cock makes a vehement, demanding request, threatening carefully crafted patience and virtue. But, maybe he wants to keep her like this forever and edge them both so much that that’s all they can think about - fucking and tasting and touching eachother.

She wouldn’t run away, then.

“Brace yourself,” he tells her, cuddling his face into her cunt.

This clit has been pampered and sheltered and spoiled its entire life. It gets whatever it wants. Never pestered too much, never daring to ask for more orgasms than one. Snuggly in its home, getting ready to retire, peeping out to look as if his mouth is some terrifying, alluring beast. Never pushed beyond its limits, safe and comfortable. It has a rude awakening.

Too much pressure on the head makes her clamp around him hard enough that he’s worried she might actually bust a blood vessel.

He quiets her, patting and rubbing her stomach, sloppy wet kisses to the top of her slit.

“You’re so sensitive,” he says, like he’s trying to think of a solution rather than tease her about it.

She fists the sheets hard enough to make her wrists pop. “Sorry.”

John laughs. He can’t help it. He kisses her clit, warms it with his breath, fingers coaxing at her spasming opening to get her distracted enough that he can carefully lick off to the side she prefers.

He tries a different finger inside, fucking into her with a gentle rhythm. Then, squeezes another against it. She feels so full with two stocky digits that she’s wondering how exactly she is going to take the beast between his legs.

Nice and slow , balls of warmth popping one by one inside of her, up her spine, through her bowed shoulders, inside her mushy brain. Her shy little clit comes around, asking for more attention, greedy and blushing and cuddling up to his tongue.

He cages her in his lips, sucks, just a little, and gently pushes her hips back down when they cant off the bed.

“Easy,” he murmurs, lapping up her slick, spitting globs of it back. Bed’s already ruined, might as well be sloppy.

He’s so, so gentle. Slurping and spitting and groaning and swallowing until he matches the sweet decibel of her cries.

He trades mouth and hand, burying his face deeper into her cunt to tongue fuck the gooey, clenching hole - use the tip to greet her gspot while his fingers work her clit.

He comes up for air, wiping at his face and licking the cum off his lips. She whines, clit pulsing, whoring itself out on behalf of her empty hole. Once a spoiled homebody, now a desperate slut.

“You like that, huh?” He kisses her tummy.

She nods, clumsy hands trying to subtly pull him back in.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, “I get it.”

That’s how she comes, with his hand palming her clit and tongue flicking her gspot. He greedily laps pussy juice, reluctant to waste even a dribble.

“You want another one?” He cleans her inner thighs with his mouth, lets her hold and guide his heavy head so he doesn’t tongue too rough

“I don’t think I can,” she admits, knees drooping inward.

“You can.” A kiss to her clit and she’s snapping her thighs shut. He flicks them open again.

“Sensitive,” she says. “Remember?”

If he wanted to, he could hold her down and have his fill. It’s tempting.

“John.” She clears her throat.

“Mmm?”

“You’re doing that thing with your face that makes me think you’re gonna do something bad.”

He sighs - yeah, far too readable in the company of this woman.

“I am thinking of doing something bad.” The corner of his mouth perks.

“Can we just take a break?”

It’s a battle of wills - her versus her delectable taste - and the latter is going to win if he doesn’t get his senses away from her pretty cunt soon.

But it’s not enough - it will never be enough. Not even if he spends the rest of his life buried between her plump, beautiful thighs.

She tries something else, burning hot from embarrassment. “I wanted to save some.” She feels really stupid and naive for saying so.

“You want to save some.. orgasms?” He cocks his head, lays his cheek on her soft belly, careful with the rough scruff on his face.

“I guess, yeah, that’s what I mean.”

He blinks at her. She’s far too intelligent not to know a woman can climax continuously. He kisses her skin. “I don’t understand.”

“Well,” she says, fingers on his scalp. She’s really starting to develop an unhealthy fascination with his thick, dark, Angel hair. “I was hoping we could have actual sex - not that this isn’t actual sex, and not that it’s not wonderful. Not that I’m ungrateful -“

He stops her there. “Ungrateful?” The word rolls odd in his mouth. “You think I’m doing you a favor? That I’m eating you out as a courtesy?” He’s frowning.

“Um,” she tries, struggling to make him less frustrated. But also so confused by the frustration itself.

“You know there are men - people - that like licking pussy, right?” Some little nagging fly at the back of his brain is telling him that she hasn’t had great experiences with this conversation in other relationships. That she thinks she’s unworthy of this treatment. That someone - multiple someone’s - made her feel inferior and undeserving and he’s a hungry, raging wildfire again. Jaw ticking, eyes narrowing, struggling to control his rage.

“I did know, but I just thought that no one -“

“Why?”

“I don’t know, John, life. People.” She looks away from him, hiding her face from his wrath. “I let it get to me. I’m not as strong as you. Not everyone likesbigger women.”

Is that what this world has reduced her to? Is that the way she sees herself? Unworthy because of something as ridiculous as the size and shape of her body? Is this what it comes down to? The rest of him might be seething, but his chest aches. He reaches up to cradle her face. “Honey..” But what can he say? What undoes years of abuse? Something that would be more effective than talking, surely: burning the world down around her and proving that she’s the only beautiful thing left. That she is the center, the focal point of this universe, and should be heralded by every god of every religion. She is the goodness in this wretched place, the light that warms the dying earth. And she thinks that she’s unworthy because she has fat?

Someone will pay for this. Someone will bleed for this.

Her eyes close against the soothing rumble of his voice, and she takes a shaky breath to avoid weeping. Her cheeks are already so, so sore.

John moves so that he’s holding her again, arms wrapped around her waist, chin on top of her head, thighs supporting her lower half. He doesn’t know what the fuck to say to make this better. He wants to call Winston and make him say something to make this better. He wants to be Winston - which is such a ridiculous thought - so that he can have the right words to settle her soul.

“When I was younger,” he tells her, trying anyway, rubbing little circles on her tummy, “I was reckless. I thought that things like sex, drugs, and money could satisfy me. I wanted to find comfort where other people in my cohort seemed to find it. I was so empty and numb that immersing myself in any distraction was preferable.”

“Did it help?”

“It never does. Not for me, and not for anyone I know.”

“You did drugs?” She tries to imagine that and fails.

“Yeah. Lots of them. You get off a job, you go to a brothel, you eat cocaine for breakfast, wash it down with a bottle.”

“That kinda rhymed.”

“Dr. Seuss, watch your back.”

She giggles.

“I’ve slept with all kinds of different people.”

“Men?”

“Almost.”

He can tell she wants to hear that story, but he’ll save it for another time. “And I learned quickly if I wasn’t emotionally attracted to that person, I was inept.”

“Unable to perform?” She starts playing with his fingers.

“Uh-huh. So, instead of going through the trouble, I learned how to give head. Back alleys, broom closets, ratty blankets under desert skies, you get the gist.” He repositions her so he can kiss her ear and neck.

Under desert skies sounds appealing. He’s silent for a minute, so she has to say something because it’s too good to pass up. “You know you’re one of those perfect, dream guys, right John?” She rolls her eyes, not being sarcastic even the slightest bit.

He laughs and digs his fingers into her sides to stop her talking, pulling her back as she tries to claw away.

“Stop it,” he tells her, kissing her temple. “I loved doing it. I still love doing it. Mary Poppins? Familiar?”

She nods. “A few of my favorite things?”

“Yeah, if I had to sing mine, I’d be kicked out of the production and charged with sexual harassment.”

He makes her laugh that beautiful, melodic laugh, and feels way too proud about it.

“The moral of my story is that you’re getting eaten up as often as I can manage, baby. So, you better get used to my tongue.”

She tries to shyly bury her head into the pillow, but he brings her back with a persistent hand on her chin. “Wait, so does that mean you don’t like me - emotionally? That you can’t have sex with me?”

He’s about to gulp her earlobe into his mouth, but stops. And here he was thinking he was getting better at this talking thing. He huffs. “Did you have my cock in your pretty mouth?”

“Uh, yeah.” She squirms, suddenly not hating the idea of him between her legs again.

“Was I soft?”

“No.” Definitely not .

He hums and flicks her ear with his tongue.

“So, can we have sex?” She tries, voice faltering.

“I want that to be under different circumstances.”

“Like what?”

“Something special. A surprise.”

His penchant for romance gets her flushing harder than his mouth. “When?” She asks quietly, impatiently. “Why?”

“I’m a ceremonial person,” he says simply.

“I’m not. I don’t need ceremony or anything like that, John, I’m fine with doing this right now.” She tries to press into him, but he puts his hand on her lower back and stalls her.

“Is this all because of what I said about emotional attraction?”

She groans in frustration, wiggles around, fights his heavy limbs, manages to turn and face him. “No, John.” She looks up into his pretty eyes. “It’s because I’ve wanted you inside me since the first night we met.”

He barely has time to register what he himself is doing, so it must be a big surprise for her when he slams their hips together and she feels his cock pressing up against her naked cunt. It hurts a little bit, but that’s okay because the only thing separating his beautiful girth from where she wants it is the flaps of a robe. She grinds into him, but he stills her with a little snarl.

“You know,” he smiles, nuzzling her nose while his cock mimics the motion into the crease of her pussy. “You seem so innocent, but you’re a little siren, hm?”

He’s going to give in, he already knows it. That weekend getaway he was to start planning is going to have to happen without the sentiment of first love making. How can he resist her, though? With her half lidded eyes peeking at him beneath fluttering lashes, that little opening of her mouth, the way she feels so soft and soaked - he’s been wrong about something; it doesn’t matter if there are other gods, because she is the only one he wants to worship.

“Only for you, John,” she breathes, arching her back and plopping her tits out and tugging his robe open. “Only for you.”

She makes it so he’s under her, climbs into his lap and watches his jaw clank, hands fist the bed sheets, nose flare. She fits herself over his cock, grinding the bulky soft head on her clit, smiling at him like he’s the center of her world.

That leaking ego she’s growing shows a little.

“I don’t know if you know this,” she says, “but you’re huge.”

His hands come off the bed to grab at her, flip her over and shove himself inside, but he stops himself. Somehow.

She flinches a little, bites her lip and watches his hands drop to the bed again. “Am I frustrating you, Johnny?”

Oh, now she’s just pushing her fucking luck.

He levels a mean grin at her. “Yes. You are.”

There’s a threat in there somewhere. It sends a prickly thrill across her shoulders. “Payback.”

He moves his hands again, quick, making her flinch away and screech, grabbing her wrists softly and laying them on his chest.

“Why are you evil?” She asks, voice choked up with the new found pressure on all her sensitive bits.

“Thought I was your hero,” he retorts, voice only a little more controlled than her own.

“Semantics.”

He chuckles.

“Okay, I’m gonna -“ she puts her hand between them, grips him, positions so that he’s right at her entrance. “I’m gonna do this.”

“You’ve got this,” he assures, trying not to move his hips, using every cell in his body to focus on not hurting her.

“I’m just gonna-“ she pushes, little opening swallowing the very round top.

“Yeah, I’m here for you,” he nods, grits his teeth, “proud. That’s it, fucking beautiful.”

He makes her laugh, push a little further onto him, suck him up inside just tiny bits at a time. “Oh, that’s a lot.” Leans down, stalls, adjusts. “That’s a lot.”

He brings his hand up to cradle her face. “You’re doing such a good job, baby.”

She sinks deeper and they both stop breathing, hanging on to the other for dear life.

Someone knocks on the door.

“Fucking Christ. What?!”

She’s never seen him lose his temper quite like this, and all while he’s halfway into splitting her apart.

“John.” It’s Marcus. “Maria put the hit out.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe any word of that.

“Who’s Maria?” She asks.

He answers Marcus first, “check again.” He’s softer for her. “Owner of the El Paso Continental.”

“It was her, John.”

“I’ll just talk to her myself.”

“You can’t.” A hollow wooden sound like he’s lightly hitting the door.

“I can.”

“No, you can’t, because she’s dead.”

// art cred: Sakura

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick x plus size reader #john wick #x chubby reader #chubby reader

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waffles-art-writing · 8 months

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You… Me…? - Simon Ghost Riley X Female Assassin Reader - PART II

Summary: (PART ONE - READ FIRST) It’s been a few months since Simon started staying with you. He’s been there for you through what seems to be possibly the worse few months you’ve had to endure in a long while. There’s soft touches, calling words, tears and laughter shared.

Proofread: HA! Barely….

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Female!Assassin!Reader with a child. ((I may write a part 3))

WordCount: 6k

Age Rating: 16+ Preferably

Codename: You pick, not mentioned really.

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: Soft!Ghost, Female!Reader, Reader has a daughter. FLUFFY SO FLUFFY, Angst… I think… Domestic Life. Panic Attacks, Emotions, If I’m missing something. Tell me.

It’s been about 6 months since Ghost’s first night at yours after the mission. Emilia basically said “move in!” Within the first day of being around the poor soul. I mean… he seemed to enjoy the ‘sleepover’ if you could even call it that. It ended up with this large tank of a man, sitting Criss cross applesauce on a couch cushion on the floor.

Watching Disney movie after Disney movie before he had to go home to actually go get a bag to stay overnight. She wasn’t too happy about that, however she was still understanding when Simon needed some time to himself. You were very proud of her when she said “that’s alright! Kinda like me at school, when it’s all loud and stuff!”. Your heart melted when she gave him her soft toy as some company just in case he got lonely while driving.

Even that night when Emilia passed out, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. Half eaten. Head flopped to the side onto your leg while her feet were on Simon’s knee. You ended up taking her to bed while Simon cleaned up, meeting you in your room with a bottle of water and more painkillers for your heavily bruised ribs.

That night, all of you slept like a rock. Even Ghost, surprisingly. Even if he woke up way before everyone, and only got a max of four hours of sleep. But if you were being honest, that’s probably the best you’ve ever seen him. Actually a little more than a walking corpse, but it still made your heart ache when you saw him avoid looking in all the mirrors. Yet, you understood. Hell, you avoid them if you don’t have a shirt on. But that’s easily covered, but your face is almost on full display constantly…

—————

A scream rips through the quiet air of the apartment, gut wrenching and heart pulling. You bolt upright, the firm arm that was once wrapped around your waist is gone, the covers kicked off. Door already slammed open, sobbing echoes down the hallway and the deep hum of an attempt to soothe the sobs. You jump out of bed, beelining for your daughter's room, the small dim light of the nightlight lighting your way.

The wailing wind outside howls, the rumbling growl of the thunder in the distance almost shakes the home, the lightning flashing through the window from behind the curtains. The chilled air slipped in through the single layer windows.

Your daughter Emilia sobs, hands gripping the dark shirt of the man who is cradling her against his chest. His chin resting on the crown of her head, her hair a little messy from her tossing and turning through the night. You rush forward, sitting next to the two, your hand coming to rest on her back, her eyes welled with tears, rimmed with red as she peeks over at you. “Mama…” She whines, her small hands reaching out to you, your heart cries for your daughter. You scoop her up, holding her close as she buries her face into your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your neck. Simon sits next to you, keeping a large hand on Emilia’s back. His once plain expression showing worry, his dark eyes tracing your face.

“You’re okay sweetheart, don’t worry.” You soothe her, rocking slightly as you pull her closer. Simon stands from his seat, placing a quick kiss on the crown of your head and Emilia’s mumbling something about getting a warm drink. You nod, smiling up at the large man.

Emilia’s sobs quiet down, your eyes flicking to the side. The small clock on the bedside table lighting up with a dull pink, neon number’s reading 04:45. You sigh through your nose quietly, pressing your cheek into the top of your daughter's head.

Simon comes back, knocking on the door lightly. A small cup of warm milk - something Emilia normally has before bed - his large hand dwarfing the small mug. You stand from your spot, holding Emilia close, her legs wrapping around your waist. “Thank you…” you quietly thank him, nudging Emilia slightly for her to look up. Her teary eyes locked in on the small cat mug she picked out at a fair a few months ago.

Simon hands her the small cup, his spare hand moving to push the young girl’s messy hair out of her face. “You are one brave kid, Emilia.” Simon states, voice quiet. She smiles as she sips on the warm milk, eyes still rimmed with red.

You make your way back to your room, sitting on the bed. Emilia in your lap with her mug securely in her hands. Simon shuts the door quietly, climbing onto the bed next to the two of you. Simon leans against the headboard, stifling a yawn as he looks over to the alarm clock. He’s been actually sleeping ever since staying a few nights at yours, yet when this happens he won’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

—————

After some time, light chatter, storytelling and tucking Emilia in between the two of you. She’s out cold, your hand on her back, her face smushed into Simon’s arm that's acting as her pillow. “She’s out…” Simon whispers, his eyes looking over Emilia’s features. You can see his eyes just over Emilia’s head, a small smile on your face as you nod your head. “No surprise.” You hum, hand rubbing up and down your daughters back. Simon's free hand coming up to lay across yours, he can feel your hand shaking ever so slightly.

He glances over to you, brows furrowed. “Y/N?” He whispers, his hand linking with yours properly. Thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. You sigh quietly, closing your eyes. “Just… Her crying or waking up from a nightmare always scares me… it rattles me.” You whisper, voice barely making a sound. Simon sits up, carefully moving his arm from out of underneath Emilia’s head. He scoops the young girl up, placing her where he was once laying down. Pulling you over slightly, placing himself behind you, arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. His nose nudging the back of your neck, leaving a small kiss, littering them across the back of your shoulders.

“It will forever scare you, she is your daughter.” He mumbles, his breath fanning across your skin. “She is your flesh and blood, her pain is your pain. Her cries will forever hit you in the heart, make you feel the same pain she is feeling.” He states, you sigh. Leaning into him, turning your head to look at him. “Thank you Simon… for everything.” You whisper, he presses his forehead against yours. Eyes closing with a heavy breath. “Don’t mention it, now sleep. You need it.” He states, leaving a small kiss on your lips. You smile, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. Still not used to getting this sort of affection after so long of being on your own.

——————

Today was not anyone’s day, well in your house it wasn’t. Last night Emilia had another scary dream, three nights in a row now. First time you thought it was just the bad weather outside, Simon even agreed with you. The second night, you thought it was probably just the fact she was a little antsy because of the spelling bee that was the next morning. But last night, there was no plausible explanation as to why she would be scared, nervous or anxious about anything. You even called Simon about it, to see if you were just being over dramatic or not. He said you weren't, and suggested for you to take the day to do something to get your mind off it.

So… Today was the day you were taking her to a playdate with a friend, you would go out and do some shopping for Christmas in a few months, which to your dismay was quickly turning into a few weeks.

Which leads you to where you are now, standing in an aisle of the store, with the one god damn shopping cart with a stiff and squeaky wheel. To add to your agitation, there was a baby crying on the far side of the store, which you swear sounded like it was coming from right next to you.

Starbucks fucked up your order, you played it off like it was nothing but on the inside, you were cursing them out like it was a boxing match with verbal insults. Your car was low on petrol, so you had to dig around for spare cash to be able to just buy the fuel without breaking into your savings… which doesn’t have a lot in it to begin with… and to just add the sweet ol’ cherry of making your day even worse….

You got your period.

So with this whole mixing pot of shit, you are now staring down boxes of fake Christmas trees. With one question in mind. Snow or not to Snow? Yes it’s winter, it’s snowing outside, yes you could get a fake tree, with fake snow. Sounds stupid. But this year is the very first year you’ll be spending Christmas with a new person. Simon. He’s luckily not being deployed these holidays, which you were happy about. Because Emilia practically begged for him to join you guys, he was unsure at the start. Still a little hesitant now, but is still going to come.

All years before this one you had just a small christmas tree, tucked away in the corner. Half the time you went to another family member’s place, but this year they are going on a family trip… which you can’t attend due to limited money…. PERFECT family am I right… fuck them.

But you wanted to make it memorable no matter what, so here you are.

You pick up the box with the tree that has built in lights. “Fuck the snow, fuck the lights. I ain’t untangling them. Fuck this, why am I here. I wanna be sick.” You mumble, trying to put the box in the cart but it’s not fitting in. You push it, tug it, shove it. Eventually hitting it with a frustrated shout.

Your chest tightens, throat closing up as you crouch down. You grip at your hair, tears stinging your eyes as you just feel so…

“Hey, Hey, Hey… Y/N, look at me.” A voice cuts through your rushing thoughts, hands on your shoulders.

Your head snaps up, blurry vision as you try to focus on the person in front of you.

“Look at me Love, you’re okay. Just breathe… look at me.”

“Simon?…”

“Yes, it’s me. Just breathe, I need you to breathe. You’re hyperventilating. Just focus on your breathing for me.” He says, kneeling in front of you. Making sure you’re looking at him, his face mask being a good substitute for the balaclava. A black cap accompanies it.

You suck in a breath, it hurts, not as much as just before. But it still does, your throat still feels tight. Palms sweating, eyes stinging. It feels like your whole body is just wound tight, like a coil. Almost like a snake ready to strike, it was bound to happen. You close your eyes, listening to Simon talk, he’s guiding you through this battle, a battle of emotions.

Simon happened to need to get a few last minute things before he came around to yours tonight, aka buy all the things he knows you’ll probably want. He knew just by the sound of your voice over the phone that something was up, more than just Emilia’s sleeping problem. It was when he just happened to spot a blanket, one that you’ve been eyeing for a while. A big cosy weighted one to go on the couch, while he was looking at it he heard your shout of frustration. He immediately recognised it, he was rounding the corner into the aisle when he saw you crouch down. Tears spilling over onto your cheeks, he knew you were frustrated…

But god, he didn’t realise it had gotten this bad.

“Y/N, look at me darling. Talk to me, what do you see? Tell me.” He instructs, waiting for your answer to the question, may sound silly but it is a good way to get anyone who is having a panic attack, PTSD episode or simply just overwhelmed to calm their breathing and rushing thoughts.

“I see… Y-You.. I see you, and the stupid fucking shopping cart.” You huff out the end of your sentence, Simon letting out a light chuckle. “Squeaky wheel?” You simply nod at his query, letting out a huff of air as you wipe your eyes. Next thing you know, is your body being hoisted up from under your arms, you look up at the large lieutenant. “Now, what else do you need other than… whatever the fuck is in your cart?” He asks, peering into the shopping cart.

Apart from the box of the christmas tree, there’s a roll of wrapping paper, a box of some new Christmas decorations. A lot of colours mashed into one cart, and there lays the list, sitting on top of your side bag. Three things ticked off the unnervingly large list. Simon picks up the list, stepping back over to you, glancing up to look around to see if he can spot any signage to give a clue as to where he could find the items.

“I have no clue how I’m going to handle this, I am not in the mood to be here at all.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself, a cramp biting its way through the painkiller you took before you left the house. Simon’s large hand cups your cheek, making you look up at him. “Hey, I’m here. We will do this together, or we can come back another time.” His voice rumbles, sending a shiver down your spine. You simply nod, lips pulling into a thin line. “Thank you…” Simon shakes his head, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “Quit thanking me, alright?” He states, pulling you into his side.

“Now, should we start with the new clothes for Emilia?” His voice held a happier tone to it, only ever so slightly.

—————

“Simon you really didn’t have to, I could’ve paid for it.”

“No.”

“Simon…. Please at least let me pay you back somehow.”

“No.”

You sit there with a pout, creased brows and hands motion in a ‘huh??’ Expression. He just paid for the whole Christmas shopping, he even went back in after you loaded up the car with a bag in hand. Keeping it away from you so you can’t see into it, which you didn't push to look into but still it caught your curiosity.

“Now I feel guilty… that was a lot of money.” You state, looking down as you pick at the stitching of your jacket. Simon is driving, he walked to the store because he doesn’t own a car. Well he did, but swapped out for a bike so he has an excuse to not leave his flat as often. Which is why you are the one mainly driving everywhere. “Don’t feel guilty, your payment to me is just being happy.” He states, making your cheeks warm at his words.

*He what? Nah surely I heard him wrong, right? What does he mean by that, that can’t be a payment. I may seem happy but I’m just putting on an act… well I was… still am… I think?*

“God you’re cheesy” you mumble with a small laugh, Simon chuckles as he starts the car.

—————

The muffled steps of running breaks your calm, you place your book down and look towards the front door. The jingle of keys and the opening of the door sounds out, Simon holds the door open as Emilia runs inside. Cheeks rosy from the chilled air, and by the sounds of it, running down the walkway outside to get to the apartment.

“MAMA! Look what Papa got me!” Your heart stops, blood chilling as you stare wide eyed at your young daughter. She’s distracted by kicking off her boots by the door and throwing her jacket onto the hook to notice both the adults that are present freeze.

Everything seems to go in slow motion, your eyes moving up to meet Simon. He just managed to close the door when your daughter called him the title of Father. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears, hands shaking as you move to sit up right. Simon just stares back at you, face neutral as usual but still his eyes are flooding with emotion. He places the bag down on the ground, toeing his boots off mindlessly.

You’re snatched from your trance by your daughter jumping onto the couch with a small box in her hands. You shake your head lightly, your mind still in a mess as you try still your shaky hands. “What did Simon get you Pumpkin?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact she just called your…. Boyfriend? No… you haven’t agreed on that… Your situationship… her father. You’ll talk to the man in question later, when Emilia is either asleep or occupied watching the TV.

Simon just stands by the door, heart beating so loudly he thought it might as well have broken through his ribs and be on a speaker for the world to hear. His chest is tight, it's warm but still it hurts. Almost suffocating, he’s touched by the name but still, there’s that nagging. Tugging, almost ripping, feeling clawing at his thoughts.

*No, I can’t… She’s just young, she doesn’t understand what it means. Just ignore it, push it aside like you always do. Like leaving for a mission, drown these stupid fucking feelings and forget about them… like you always do, so easily… like always… so easily…*

His body was moving on its own, placing the items he got in the kitchen and putting them away. Muscle memory, he swallows thickly as the words race around his mind again. ‘Fucking stop it, Simon…’ he curses to himself. He leans on the countertop, glancing up to spot you smiling. Emilia smiling back up at you, joyful as always. You are practically glowing in his eyes, not just you.

No, both of you.

Both you and your daughter are like the sun, shining so brightly and warming in his cold and dark life it makes it almost impossible for him to slink back into the darkness. To drown himself in Jack Daniels while sitting slumped back at his flat, that's cold and dark… practically empty and dusty. He’s barely stepped foot in it when he returns after the few missions he’s been on since that one with you 6 months ago. God, he can’t even stand staying there because of how just… miserable it makes him feel when he isn’t with you and your daughter. You have managed to light up all the dark and dingy cracks in his life in the span of mere months, hell he practically survives off your presence when he’s not at base.

If he was to actually pay attention to what his body says when he leaves for a mission, he will realise it is sad, in pain. He would find it difficult to leave you and Emilia if he didn’t push the emotions aside and just got on with it….

You meet his eyes, smiling at him. That goddamn smile… the same one your daughter has and willingly gives… yet he can tell yours is from years of pain and hardship but finally, your light is shining through and it's not only affecting him in good ways but also you.

—————

It’s been a few weeks since your daughter called Simon “Papa.” That night you were planning on talking to Simon, but you didn’t end up getting the chance. You passed out on the couch with Emilia, the painkillers for your cramps make you drowsy, so in turn. You were out cold when it was bedtime for your daughter. Simon ended up carrying both of you to your respective beds, you were out like a light, just like your daughter. “Like Mother, Like Daughter” he quietly joked when he saw you both asleep.

You tried to talk to him throughout the few weeks but things just kept getting in the way, or you forgot about it, or even he was at base for work.

Then the worst thing you could think of could happen just before Christmas, the flu. Emilia is curled up on the couch, breathing heavily in her sleep. You’re quietly picking up the dirty tissues from around the couch, carefully picking one up that’s clasped in her hand. You knew something was up, she woke up yesterday with a headache, feeling warm. You suspected it was just a cold, so you let her stay home. Today was supposed to be the last day of school, she was so excited for it as she would’ve gotten to have a shared lunch.

You dump the dirty tissues into the bin, grabbing some cleaner and a rag. Wiping down all the surfaces to try keep the flu off most surfaces, if you were honest with yourself. Your efforts are working but not as much as you wished. You’ve been fighting a head cold all morning, chugging water and a few pills to hopefully clear up your sinuses, to no avail.

You tip the bowl of half eaten soup down the drain, rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. You lean on the counter, rubbing your temples. Groaning quietly as you feel like your head is a bag of sand, the ticking of the clock on the wall sounding ungodly to your ears. Loud and irritating. Then an ear piercing knock hit the door, it sounds deafening to you, yet you know it was a gentle knock.

You make your way to the door, opening it and cringing away from the light. “You might wanna go back to Base… Emilia has the Flu and I have… whatever the fuck I have.” You grumble, noticing it’s Simon. “Yeah right, like I’m going to leave you alone after being gone for nearly a week.” He states, pushing the door open more and nudging you to the side. His hand immediately pressed against your forehead.

His hand is cold against your forehead, you start leaning into it as it soothes the throbbing. “You’re burning up, fucking hell. Go sit down.” He instructs, you wave him off, grumbling something he doesn’t catch.

“Y/N… go sit down.” He grunts, leaving the bag of things on the counter. You flip him off, ignoring his gaze and words as you go about folding laundry that’s on the table. “I’m fine, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You pause, feeling yourself waver, the world starts to spin. The feelings of your stomach knotting fills you, your throat burns. You drop the shirt and sprint to the bathroom, sliding down on your knees, leaning on the toilet bowl.

Simon is right behind you, holding your hair out of your face, hand rubbing your back soothingly. Tears burn your eyes. You hate being sick, because you end up crying. You don’t know why, but you’ve always done it, it’s not like it hurts or anything. You just don’t like it, it’s just a wave of emotion that hits you as well as vomiting up whatever is in your stomachs. Your hands clench the edges of the porcelain surface, gagging as your shoulders shake.

“Breathe, Y/N you need to breathe.”

The timbre of Simon's voice cuts through your rushing head, you didn’t even notice that you’re breathing quickly. Almost hyperventilating. Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be? You’re fucking crying.

“Love, breathe. Focus on me, not anything else, just me.” He says, voice soft but still commanding.

‘You can turn a civilian into a lieutenant but never turn a lieutenant into a civilian.’ Or something, you aren’t sure you just know whatever Price once said is about a soldier never losing their commanding voice even if in a civilian uniform.

You sit back, a damp cloth being placed in your hand. You wipe your mouth, tilting your head up at the ceiling with closed eyes as you flush the toilet, the taste of stomach acid tainting the back of your throat, coating your tongue.

That alone almost sends you into another gagging mess.

“That’s it, breathe. You’re okay…” you simply nod as you listen to Simon. Tears still staining your cheeks, you blink your eyes open.

The sound of running water fills the room, the sound of a plastic lid being flipped open breaks through the rushing water. You glance over, the tub being filled with water, Hot? Warm? Cold? You don’t know, you just know you see Simon rustling around with a bag of sorts along with what looks like a soap bottle.

Epsom Salts. Salts to relax your body and give you an energy boost, allegedly.

“What are you doing?” You mumble, shifting to lean onto the side of the bathtub. Hand dipping into the water, it’s hot but not too hot. It’s nice.

“Running you a bath, gotta get you to relax and give you energy.” Simon's voice rumbles, sending a calm wash through you. You just hum, pressing your forehead into the cold porcelain on the edge.

Hands run across your back, slipping around to your front pulling you gently to look up at Simon.

“Get undressed and get in, I’ll be back okay?” He states, helping you stand to sit on the toilet, flicking the lid down. You give him a thumbs up, yawning as you drag your shirt over your head.

You hear hushed voices from outside the door, a small whine of protest and a breathy chuckle.

“Well your mum needs to rest, she’s not feeling too well. Like you.” Simon’s voice mumbles, soft and low to not break the quiet air too much. He scoops Emilia up in his arms, keeping her snug in the cocoon of a blanket. “Can I see Mama?” She sniffles, her stuffy nose making it harder to breathe. “I’m sure she won’t mind, but you’re off to bed straight after. Deal?” “Deal!” Simon smiles down at her, his arms holding her close.

He quietly walks towards the bathroom, pushing the door open. He notices the lights are off and a few candles are lit, smelling lavender. “Love?” The man asks, peering around the door. “You can come in.” You chuckle lightly, leaning onto your arms on the side of the tub. Simon steps in, crouching down next to you with Emilia, she’s already reaching out to you.

Her hands resting on your cheeks, something she’s always done, especially when one of you is sick. You have no clue where she picked it up from, she would normally press her forehead against yours but you’ve warned her about doing it if one of you is sick. She’s a smart kid.

“Hey sweetie.” You smile, placing a hand over hers. “Are you okay? Papa said you’re sick, like me.” She asks, you can see tears starting to well in her eyes. Heart swelling with emotions, still noticing she called Simon papa again. “Aww. Pumpkin, it’s just a tummy bug. That’s all, I’ll be healthy as a horse in no time. But, we’ll both get better quicker if we both rest.” You state, brushing your fingers through her hair. Trying to tame her wild hair.

“So… Simon is gonna take you to bed, alright? I know it’s a bit early, but it’s to help us both get better okay?” Emilia nods her head, quickly pulling away to cough into her elbow. It sounds painful, both you and Simon grimace a little at her strained lungs.

“Sleep well my darling.” You smile, running a thumb over her cheek. “Night Night Mama.” She smiles, sniffling. Turning back to hide in the blanket, tucking herself deep in Simon’s arms.

———

You sit there in the hot water, focusing on your breathing. The scent of the candles wafting through the air, the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles. You smile gently to yourself, honestly surprised, A little flustered, but mainly grateful for Simon and what he has done. Yet you’re a little nervous that he may get sick himself, and if you know him well enough he will just brush it off and continue to go about life as he normally does.

You’re beyond happy that Emilia has taken a shine to him, as if she wouldn’t. But you’re a little bit surprised? Maybe… that Simon has so easily been able to slip into almost a domesticated world without being overwhelmed by all of it. Sure he has his days, everyone does, especially people like him. You’re happy he’s your boyfriend - wait, no. You haven’t figured that out yet. Friend with benefits? No that sounds harsh and crude, really good friend that you’re happy to share a bed with and let him kiss you occasionally? No, the title is too long. Situationship? Maybe, you’ll ask him about it. Especially since Emilia called him Papa again, something you have yet to tick off your mental list of shit to talk to her about.

Simon shuts Emilia’s door quietly, walking back towards the bathroom. Knocking on the doorframe, hearing you mumble a quiet ‘come in’. He steps into the tiled room, coming to crouch down next to you. Knees almost clicking, causing him to hide a grimace.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice rumbles, quiet to not cause any headache to ensue. You shrug, leaning on your arms again on the edge of the bath, bubbles popping quietly on the surface of the water. “Better… calm. A little tired but still awake enough to talk to you.” You smile, your cheek pressed against your arm.

“Good. I just want you to relax, you’ve had a shitty week. You both have.” He vaguely motions in the direction of Emilia’s room. He notices how your eyebrows are set, furrowed gently, barely noticeable. You’re thinking.

“What’s on yer’ mind?” He asks, adjusting to sit on the floor properly.

“You”

“Me?”

You nod your head, leaning back a little. You notice his eyes aren’t leaving your face. He’s trying to figure out what you mean, you sigh, sinking lower into the water, below the dying bubbles.

“It's about what Emilia said…” your voice trails off, Simon tilts his head, throat going dry. He knows what you are talking about, he’s just anxious? Uneasy, feeling unwell almost.

“Is it because she called me her father?” He asks quietly, watching you look over at him. Nodding, your lips pulled into a thin line.

“Yeah, I want to say I’m sorry. I should be telling her you aren’t her father and that you and I… we aren't officially together, what are we? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Are we a situationship? Friends with benefits? What do-” you ramble, brain going a million miles a minute. Almost making you breathless, chest tight with trying to figure out what you two are.

“What do you want us to be?” Your words die in your throat when you hear him ask the question, you look at him. Tracing his features with your eyes, his scars, ruffled hair from wearing a hat all day. His stubbled jaw, which is clenched, you can see it.

“… I don’t know…”

Simon nods his head, he had a feeling you would be unsure.

He’s even unsure on what he wants you to be to him, he wants you in his life and Emilia. His fingers twitch to move, to hold you close. He sighs, looking down at the tiled floor, shifting in his spot as he looks back up at you. He sees your eyes unfocused, he knows that look. Always the same, no matter what. You’re thinking.

“I want you to be in my life Simon, I want you to be in my daughter's life…” you pause briefly. “You have become such a big part of it in such a short time. You understand the struggles I go through, even though you aren’t a parent. But you understand that this is hard, and you’ve been there for me for the entire time you’ve been here…” you state, looking at him.

“I want you here Simon… I want you to be a part of this family. Only if you want to.”

Simon’s world slows, your words repeating themselves like a record. His chest tightens, muscles constrict and relax. His eyes dart between yours, to your lips then back to your eyes. The same eyes he’s seen tears in, creased at the edges from laughter or blown out in the dark room to see him as much as they could.

“I want to.”

Your lips part, looking at him. “I-… Uh.. I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want-” “I want to be with you Y/N. I want to be able to call being with you, home. come back to this apartment and see both you and Emilia.” He cuts you off, knowing you would try to spill all the regret you may have towards the matter.

His hand tilts your chin up to look at him, his eyes soft. Fingers gentle against your skin as he moves his hand to where your shoulder and neck meet.

“I would do anything to call you mine, to say that I have someone at home waiting. I want to be able to be here for you, help you through all the shit you have on. I don’t care if I have to stay up late, making sure Emilia is sleeping while you try to sleep yourself.” He pauses, smiling gently.

“I want to be here for you to lean on me, to cry to me if you need, scream at me cause you’re frustrated, punch me because you’re angry. I want to be here to laugh at some silly joke Emilia comes home with from school, or help her with school projects… granted I’m not the most artistic person out there…” you chuckle at his words, leaning into his hand.

“I want to call you mine… and I want to be yours if you would give me the honour of allowing me to be.” His voice is firm, but soft and earnest.

You nod your head, biting your lip as a tear falls down your cheek. “Of course…” you sniffle, laughing to yourself for how silly you must look. “God I must look pathetic.” You mumble, Simon just shakes his head, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You don’t look pathetic… You are as stunning as always… despite the bed hair.” He teases lightly, you just laugh. Grasping his wrist, leaning into his hand.

“You’re an asshole…” he just shrugs, leaning in. “But you like it, cause that means you can be an asshole back…” he muses, you just sigh, shaking your head. “Yeah yeah. Whatever you say Lieutenant.” A sly smile spreads across your lips, it quickly dies as Simon closes the gap between you.

His lips are firm, passionate, confident but also gentle and loving. You can feel the emotion behind the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, his other hand dipping into the water. Sliding down your back as you lift your arms, wrapping them around his shoulders. He chuckles against your lips, mumbling “Don’t drag me in there, Love.” You smile, pulling back to look at him. “I’m not that cruel.” You smirk, running a hand through his short cut hair, nails scratching his scalp lightly, a shiver running down his back.

You scoop up some bubbles in your free hand, blowing them into his face. His once raised brows drop, the small smirk gone. He flutters his eyes open, staring at you.

“Really?”

“Really.”

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