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classickook · 2 years

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paper hearts (part four): mixed signals

pairing: stephen strange x widow!reader

summary: stephen has been messing with your head for far too long now and you’re finally fed up with his actions. what happens when he admits something that completely ruins everything?

warnings: angst, mentions of ptsd and depression, swearing, stephen being an idiot

word count: 4.6k

a/n: shit kinda hits the fan in this one lol very excited to hear your thoughts!

series masterlist | main masterlist

four and a half weeks had passed since your little training mishap, and your ribs were healing rather well. a dull ache still resonated on your side, but the bruising and swelling had gone down tremendously. the past several weeks had been torture, though; having to sit out on training and missions, missing out on all the action and staying cooped-up inside the compound.

on top of all that, being unable to go for a ride through the city on your motorbike felt more stifling and confining than anything else; however, now that you were finally on the road to recovery, you couldn’t wait to get out of the compound and back into the fresh air: going on morning runs with sam, taking america to delmar’s again, and kicking yelena’s ass in the ring to make up for lost time.

stephen had offered to portal you whenever and wherever you wanted, but you felt rather uncomfortable relying on him for things like that. you didn’t want to depend on anyone, especially him, for anything as you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, regardless of any minor injury such as this, and besides, you could always borrow sam’s car so there was no need to include stephen in your daily life if it wasn’t completely necessary.

you had received a ping earlier that morning, pulling you out of bed after another restless night laden with nightmares, alerting you of an upcoming mission that had arisen and would be the team’s main focus for the next couple of days to sort out.

reading through the message, your eyes drifted up to the top where your name was listed: agent y/n romanoff. you didn’t have a last name. well, technically you did, assigned to you by dreykov as well as all other widows, but you loathed to refer to yourself as anything relating to him. instead, you took natasha’s last name as your own since she saved you from the red room, and the universe from thanos. she was a hero in every sense of the word, and it felt right to honor her name, her legacy, by carrying her surname with you as you traveled through life when she couldn’t any longer. you didn’t know her as well as yelena did, and you didn’t get to spend as much time with her or spend a childhood together like your counterpart had the opportunity of experiencing, but she felt like a sister to you, for the time that you had her, at least. you missed her, as a friend, as a sister, as a mentor, and you wished, now more than ever, that you could have her back in your life again.

after the red room, the blip, natasha—everything—your world felt is it was collapsing in on itself and you didn’t know how to go about life anymore. you had yelena, sure, and she was the closest person you had who knew how you felt and what you went through; well, her and bucky, that is. he had even recommended his therapist to you, admitting that, after finally giving the woman a chance, she had helped him cope with his past and his demons, allowing him to finally move on with life in this century; he still struggled now and again, experiencing nightmares and flashbacks and pinpricks of guilt that stabbed at his conscience, but he was healing, and that’s what mattered most. you figured you might as well give it a try, just for shits and giggles to see if it actually did something for you; however, you had yet to see any major improvement. all that you got out of your sessions so far was confirmation that your life sucked and you were currently suffering from survivor’s guilt, though you weren’t sure how you could be considered a survivor when you weren’t at natasha’s side when everything happened in the first place. maybe if you had been, if you hadn’t stayed behind at the compound, you could have taken her place; you could have been the one to exchange your life for the soul stone, and then she would still be here: with yelena, with her friends and all of the other avengers who felt the gaping hole in their lives where she once belonged. maybe she could’ve had the opportunity to fall in love and start a family, to finally take a break from all of her heroic duties and live for once, but that’s not what happened.

you thought back to the brief moments you spent jumping through the multiverse and it got you thinking… maybe there was a universe, or more than one—god, you hoped there was more than one—where natasha didn’t have to die. that she was out there somewhere, alive and well and happy. you wondered if other versions of you were part of her life in other universes, if she was your sister there too.

“good morning, sam. ‘morning, buck,” you announced as you made your way down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl before you headed out for the day.

“morning, sleeping beauty,” sam’s deep voice greeted back. without warning, you were pulled to his side and into a headlock, ruffling your hair a bit in the process. “glad to see you out and about, i almost forgot what you looked like. hey, are those new boots? buck, do those look new to you?”

“back up with the morning breath, wilson. you’re frying my hair off.” he chuckled in response but you just smiled sweetly at him before stomping on his foot with said boot and elbowing him in the side until he let you go. “you’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?” you said. “how do you even stand being around him, bucky?” you asked, turning your attention over to the super soldier in question.

“i ask myself that every day,” bucky deadpanned from his seat at the kitchen table, leafing through the morning paper with his vibranium arm.

sam choked out a throaty laugh, “funny, i ask myself that about you every day.” he eyed the two of you, his gaze flickering back and forth from one to the other. “you two are absolute heathens. i did not wake up this morning for you to—”

“put a sock in it, would you, pal?” bucky grumbled. “i can’t concentrate over your yapping.”

it was all in good fun, teasing each other like this. after everything you had been through, you all craved some semblance of normalcy and camaraderie, and the two of them really felt like best friends to you, like you could rely on them for anything and they would always have your back, as you would theirs. it was nice to have them by your side.

“well, if you two lovebirds are done quarreling,” you said with a smirk as they both glared at you, “i’m probably going to stop at the store while i’m out. either of you guys need anything?”

“yeah, grab me a new captain while you’re out, this one is getting on my nerves,” bucky said but was quickly rewarded by a firm kick to his chair from sam that nearly knocked him over.

sam turned to you with his short list of requests from the store and you were off, absolutely thrilled to get out and back onto your bike that was parked at the far side of the building.

“i’ve missed you, baby,” you told the inanimate piece of machinery. “it’s been too long.” as you reached out to grasp the handlebars and take on your usual stance around the motorbike, however, something felt strange; a certain resistance that was preventing you from climbing onto the bike. you tried again, this time using just your hand to grasp the handlebar, but you were pushed back, unable to make any contact at all. you groaned in frustration as you realized who could have been behind this. you pulled out your phone and selected the most recent contact on your screen.

what the hell? you typed out, no ‘hello’ or greeting of any kind. he wasn’t deserving of any niceties at the moment.

that’s an interesting way of saying good morning, stephen replied.

funny. you put a spell on my bike?

i had a feeling you would go off making reckless decisions regardless of my professional opinion, so, yes, i put a spell on your bike that prohibits you from riding it until i know you’re fully healed.

but you said three weeks! it’s been over four, i’m perfectly fine, you reasoned.

i would prefer the full six weeks.

you rolled your eyes as you texted him back with a single word: asshole.

maybe so, but at least i’ll know you’ll be safe.

your fingers paused over the screen. when did he start caring all of a sudden? i didn’t realize my safety was a major concern of yours.

a few moments later, you got your response: now you know.

you didn’t know how to respond to that so you said nothing, instead, pocketing your phone and trying to erase him from your mind. he was messing with your head again and it was only getting progressively worse. you seriously needed to cut yourself off from him once and for all before you got hurt… well, more hurt than you already were. there was only so much one person could take, and you were starting to reach your limit.

heading back inside the compound with a dejected look on your face, you borrowed the keys to sam’s car to use for transportation until a certain sorcerer would let you back on your bike. who did he think he was, honestly? he had no right to prohibit you from doing anything, let alone moving about freely. who cared if you weren’t completely healed yet? that was your decision to make, you knew your body better than any doctor, especially him, and you had been through far worse throughout your life; you could handle this. your annoyance only intensified with each thought that flew through your mind, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself down. it wasn’t worth it, you told yourself. he was a control freak, thought he knew better than anyone else, just because he was a world-famous surgeon and now world-saving sorcerer… please. maybe the other christine had a point when she told him back in 838 that he always had to be the one holding the knife. after all, she knew him better than you did, and it was clear to you now that he did have to hold the knife, save the world, save you, but you didn’t need saving, and certainly not from him.

you walked with america inside the sanctum after school with her insisting, once again, that you needed to come in. she didn’t bother using an excuse this time, but she was very adamant about you seeing stephen, which you weren’t too pleased about. you were still mad at him over the whole bike thing, and you weren’t sure how you would go about confronting him without yelling or punching him square in the jaw. okay, maybe that was a bit harsh, you scolded yourself.

america threw a cheeky grin your way before running up the stairs and into her bedroom. you sighed, feeling ridiculous for just standing in the entryway of the sanctum while stephen was somewhere inside doing god knows what.

as if your brief thought of him conjured him out of thin air, he appeared before you as he descended the staircase in the middle of the room, dressed in his usual blue robes and sentient red cloak fluttering behind him. “how’s my favorite patient doing?” he asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

you rolled your eyes. “i’m fine, but that was a shitty thing to do, doc. take the spell off my bike.”

“what’s the magic word?”

it took everything in your power to not kick him in the shin right now. “please,” you said through gritted teeth.

he tsked, “it was actually dormammu, but since you asked so nicely…” he waved his hand in front of him and seemed pleased with whatever the hell he just did.

“well?” you asked, arms crossed over your chest.

“your bike is all yours now,” he said. “but take things easy. don’t ride for too long, and stop immediately if you feel any pain.”

“seriously, doc. i’m perfectly fine.”

the corner of his mouth quirked up into an almost-smile. “i know you are,” he said softly. “i’m just looking out for you.”

“i can look after myself, thanks,” you said sharply. “have been for quite some time now, actually, and i don’t need you swooping in and controlling everything. you have no right.”

stephen’s face fell but he quickly shuttered his expression, once again donning the usual self-confident air about him that irked you to no end.

“well,” you started, clapping your hands together in finality, “it looks like we’re done here, so i’ll be heading out now.”

“actually, y/n, i wanted to talk to you about something,” stephen said. “do you mind staying for another few minutes?”

you knew you shouldn’t stay, just being around him like this would only get you into trouble, but you sighed and agreed, “sure, i guess i don’t have anything else to do, so you’re in luck. what’s up?”

stephen’s hands were clasped together in front of him and you noticed how they trembled slightly even as he tried to hide it from you. “i’ve been thinking… and i don’t mean to overstep, but america and i… we—” he cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing, “we both really enjoy your company, and thought it might be nice to see you around more often. if you have time.”

your forehead scrunched in confusion. “um… i guess i’m not quite sure what you’re asking.”

“right, right,” he muttered. “i guess what i’m trying to say is that you’ve become someone important to me—us,” he corrected. “and i’d really like to see you, spend time with you… if you’d like that. and, well… what i mean to say is, i think i’m falling in love you, y/n,” he said finally.

your eyes widened at his confession. isn’t that what you’ve been wanting to hear for so long? somehow, though, it didn’t feel genuine.

he watched you closely, concerned at your hesitation and silence over what he had said. “shit, i’m sorry. did i make you uncomfortable?” his eyes creased with worry and he did look apologetic, but it was too late for that now.

a humorless laugh escaped your throat. “you know, it’s funny you should mention that. i thought i loved you once, but it was clear that your affections were directed elsewhere and there was no room for me.”

“loved?” he echoed.

you smiled tightly. “yes, because pining after someone who doesn’t notice you or put in any effort kind of hinders one’s feelings.” you couldn’t believe you were finally telling him all of this, especially in this particular situation, but you supposed it was time it came up so you could get it off your chest once and for all, so you could move past him and what he did to you. “i want you to pick me first, strange. not just because i’m all that’s left and you can’t have who you truly want. that’s not fair to me.”

“that’s not—what are you talking about?”

your gaze dropped to the damn watch still clasped around his wrist and your anger—hurt—over the situation increased tenfold. “i have been second to christine all this time and i will not be the person you settle for because you can’t have her,” you admitted.

“y/n…”

you couldn’t meet his eyes, instead, focusing on the door across the room and making quick steps outside without another word to him.

“y/n, wait,” he begged, long strides catching up with you as his hand reached forward to lightly circle around your wrist. “talk to me. please.”

“you still have the watch,” you blurted.

his brows lowered in confusion, eyeing said watch that was still attached to his wrist before looking back at you. “i do… it functions all the same, i just need to repair the face—”

“the two of you broke up,” you reminded him. “she’s married. or did you get so caught up in this idealized fantasy of yours that you forgot?”

“now wait a minute—” he started, frustration lacing his tone as you cut him off again.

“but there’s clearly some sentimental value surrounding it. if you’ve kept it all this time, you still have some sort of an attachment to it.”

“it’s not like that—”

“it is, though. you don’t need to keep lying to me, okay? just… make up your mind, would you? one minute you’re actually pretty nice and i think we might be friends”—or something, you didn’t say aloud— “but then the next, it’s blatantly obvious that you can’t let go of your past. that’s fine, all right? i get it, you two have history. but i need you to be straight with me, you can’t keep stringing me along like this and giving me false hope. i can’t keep waiting for you, strange. it’s not fair to me. i don’t deserve that.”

he ran a scarred hand down his face as he tried to come up with a reasonable response, anything that would get you to listen to him. “i know. shit, i know i messed up, y/n, and i’m trying to talk to you. just let me explain.”

“explain what? how you still have feelings for your ex? that you ‘love her in every universe’?” his eyes widened slightly at your remembrance of that day at the dilapidated sanctum. “yeah,” you continued, “i was there, which obviously escaped your notice at the time considering you were too busy pouring out your heart to her, on the verge of risking an incursion to be with her, when we were fighting for our lives. how did you expect me to feel after that, strange? did you really think i would just come running back to you, go back to the way things were before, let you in after you abandoned me? i was practically invisible to you. i was counting on you, okay? you asked for my help, which i was more than happy to do, and how did that work out for me?”

you were breathing heavily now, chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. agitation ran through your veins until your hands shook and you self-consciously squeezed them into fists so he couldn’t see how this was affecting you, and you felt your nails dig sharply into your palms as indentations of crescent moons pinched at your skin. you didn’t usually get worked up like this, after years of training and self-discipline, you should be able to control your anger better than this, but something about stephen manipulating you in such a way, pulling you in different directions time and time again, dug under your skin to the point where you couldn’t reel in your anger any more. “not well, strange. i’m not going to be your backup for christine. you think that just because you can’t have her, i’m the next best thing? i don’t deserve that. it’s cruel, and if you can’t see that—see what’s standing right in front of you, and has been for a while now—well then, i don’t know what to tell you.”

“shit. y/n, i’m—”

you held up your free hand, stopping his next words. “don’t bother apologizing to me, especially if it’s not wholly genuine. that’s not going to resolve anything. you’re a grown man, stephen strange, and it’s about time you start acting like it. you don’t know what you want and when you finally do, you don’t even have the guts to fight for it. you’re a coward.” your face felt hot, like you were burning up from the inside, or like the room was about to burst into flames and swallow you up in plumes of smoke and ash. you needed to get out of there, as far away from stephen and the sanctum as quickly as possible before you broke down completely. that would only further your humiliation; not only has he treated you like shit, but he would also see just how horribly it was affecting you.

“from now on, we’re just coworkers and that’s it. i’ll remain civil with you, for america’s sake, and i’ll continue to pick her up from school and drop her off like usual, but that’s as far as it goes. i’m not coming inside anymore and i’d really prefer not to talk to you, if i can get away with it. and if i’m being completely honest, doc,” you said, voice deathly quiet, “i can’t stand you.”

the look that fell over stephen’s face could only be described as pure anguish, the skin around his mouth tightening into a grimace that somehow reached his blue eyes until his entire face was awash with shame and guilt and heartbreak, but you didn’t care; let him wallow in self-pity and torment for a while, he deserved it.

maybe you were being a bit too harsh, too dramatic, and you figured you would probably regret your outburst once you had cooled down a bit, but at the current moment, you felt that the situation warranted this kind of behavior, or maybe you were finally so fed up with everything that you just… snapped.

“let go of me, doc,” you said, unable to meet his eyes now. he must have realized the severity of the situation from your tone of voice, as he promptly released your wrist and watched you walk away, leaving him behind. you didn’t look back, determined to remove yourself from bleecker street and back to the other side of the city, back to the safety of your bedroom at the compound. you shoved the heavy wooden doors open as your heart was torn to shreds because of him for a second time.

the following afternoon, america grabbed her backpack from the floorboard of the passenger seat, quickly jumping out of the car and running up the steps to the sanctum’s entrance, but paused once she noticed you weren’t following behind. turning back to look at you still standing by the parked car, she said, “what are you doing? i thought you were coming inside?”

you shook your head. “not today, kiddo.”

“but—”

“i’ll pick you up after school tomorrow, same time as usual, okay? ‘night, america,” you said, beginning to open the door and drive back the way you came, but she stopped you before you could get much further.

“hey, wait!” she called after your retreating back. “what’s going on with you?”

you sighed, figuring you might as well be honest with the teen. she trusted you and looked up to you, and you felt it was your responsibility to set things straight. “i know what you were trying to do, america, but it’s not going to work. so just… stop. please.”

“i wasn’t doing anything…”

you fixed her with a pointed look.

“okay, maybe i was… but i don’t understand, i thought you two really liked each other. i thought you would finally get together if i just…” she trailed off.

“it was a cute thought, but i can’t be around him like that anymore. i’m sorry, but from now on, i’ll just drop you off in front of the sanctum. i can’t go inside, i can’t be around him. i really just don’t want to see him.”

she took a step forward, her brown eyes wide and pleading. “but he misses you.”

you scoffed, but you didn’t sound as aloof as you were hoping to. “no, he doesn’t.”

“but y/n, really,” she insisted again, taking another step toward you. “he does like you. i know he does, you just need to give him a chance.”

“i can’t keep giving him more chances. i’ve tried and it’s come back to bite me in the ass every time. i’m not going to do that to myself anymore.” you had come to a final decision regarding stephen and you were sticking to it; no more contact with him, period.

“but—” she started.

“he told me he loved me,” you admitted quietly.

america squealed with delight. “oh my god, he did? this is great, that means you can finally get together like i’ve been telling you would happen! i knew there had to be a reason why you were acting funny.”

you cut her off. “not so fast, kiddo. it didn’t get very far.”

her face dropped. “what? why not?”

“i walked away,” you said with a shrug. “he’s just stringing me along, giving me just a glimmer of hope that he might feel something for me, but he’s still in love with christine. i’m not taking his shit anymore.”

“what do you mean?”

“he’s still wearing the watch.”

“the one christine gave him?”

your lips stretched into a tight smile. “the very one.”

“what an ass,” she fumed.

you snorted. “yeah, that and the fact that he told christine that he loves her in every universe—right in front of me—doesn’t help much either.”

“he said what?” she yelled.

your head tilted in confusion. “wait, you didn’t know?” america was the multiversal know-it-all, how could she not know this happened, in various universes or just the one.

“no! holy shit, he really is an ass. i can’t believe he would do that! no wonder you hate him so much.”

“i don’t necessarily hate him,” you replied honestly. it was true, you didn’t hate him per se, but you certainly weren’t pleased by the whole situation… it was complicated. “i just wish he would stop messing with my head like this. he’s giving me whiplash. at this rate, it’s best if i just stay away from him completely, because giving him even a sliver of a chance clearly wasn’t worth it.” you offered her an apologetic smile. “sorry, kiddo. but from now on, i’m just dropping you off outside of the sanctum. i don’t want to see him,” you said again, tone serious and unwavering. “and no more meddling, all right? it’s not going to happen.”

“yeah, okay,” she sighed. “i understand.”

“see you tomorrow,” you said, starting up the car again and pulling away as america watched from the doorstep.

stephen had left you numerous voice messages since then, but you didn’t have the heart to listen to them, convinced that they would only make things worse; and maybe hearing his deep, husky voice again would just cause your resolve to crumble and you might run the risk of going back to him. you couldn’t do that—you wouldn’t do that. it was probably best if you just deleted his number altogether and moved on with your life.

you were allowing him far more control over you and your thoughts than was deserved, it was sickening. you wouldn’t cry over him and you wouldn’t lose sleep over him. he was a pathetic mess of a man and you didn’t have time for him; you had wasted enough of that already, and you were over it. you needed to move past this little slipup and continue on with life as if he had never meddled with it in the first place.

and that was a promise to yourself you intended to keep.

taglist: @stygianoir @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @samisubi @seishoari @mischiefmanaged71 @pasta-warlord @elicheel @vesta-ro @luthientinu @torresbarnes @kikus-art @stanny-uwu @hospitaldaydream @loki-is-loved @slvtforstr4nge @sofi786

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depressedbagpipe · 1 year

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"Blackbird to Robin, do you copy?" (Billy Russo x ofc)

Chapter four

Words: 4145 Warnings: mentions of smoking, foul language, mentions of sex, Bridgerton season 1 spoilers?? mentions of explosions and weapons, a little mysoginy thrown in there as well, LOTS of coffee A/N: i'm officially the worst writer on this site. i'm so very sorry it took this long to post, but i had a family member at the hospital for an entire month (and they still are) and between my screenwriting lessons and my job, life has never been this hectic. i'm not 100% sure i like this chapter, but i needed some 'spoken' conflict before delving into the bigger drama. thank you so much for waiting, and i love you all <;3 Taglist: @badasseddy, @noortsshift, @britishbassett

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Chapter four

Insomnia was becoming a thing for me, apparently. My cigarette consumption was increasing by the minute, and though I didn’t feel particularly proud of it, it was one of the few things that could calm my racing thoughts enough to let me sleep. Dreaming was out of the question; every night was restless, and every day I woke up feeling more tired than how I had gone to bed.

Billy didn’t help. Everywhere I went, he was there. At some point, I didn’t know who became whose shadow. We worked as a unit, or rather, he made us work as a unit. It had only been a week since he showed up at the stairs of my faculty, but it already felt like a lifetime. He loomed over my shoulder every chance he got, double, even triple-checking every single detail of every single room, every single second of every single day. And whilst I appreciated the effort, his presence only reminded me of the reality. I was in danger, constantly. And nobody knew why, where, or how.

Opening my eyes with a groan, I turned once again on my bed, tossing the covers off and staring at the wall in front of me. I gave up on reading the numbers on my alarm clock, knowing that no matter how late –or early– it was, sleep was simply out of the question. I yawned in exhaustion, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. An unfinished book lay open on the bed next to me, but I quickly closed it. Not even reading had been easy this past week.

My eyes fell on my laptop, quietly charging on the floor by the window. A sudden spark gave me enough of a push to retrieve it and swiftly returned to my bed. Getting comfortable, I turned it on and typed on it, my eyes scanning over the words on the search bar for a few seconds, either in anticipation or maybe fear.

Billy Russo

With a deep sigh, I hit enter.

In less than a second, thousands of results littered the screen and all sorts of news and facts about the man sleeping in the room next door were suddenly available before me. Why hadn’t I searched for him earlier was beyond my comprehension, but all of a sudden, I couldn’t stop.

That’s how Billy found me in the morning, heavy bags under my eyes and sore pupils from reading every article with Billy’s name on it.

‘Dana?’

The door opening brought me back to Earth. I jumped in my place, taking out my earphones. I stared at Billy’s worried face, like a deer caught in the headlights. As if I had just done something I shouldn’t have.

‘Yeah?’

‘You weren’t answering. I thought you were asleep.’

‘No, no, sorry, I didn’t hear you,’ I winced.

‘You okay?’

I knew why he was saying that. I knew the redness of my eyes could mean a million things in his mind.

‘Yeah. Couldn’t sleep,’ I said with a small yawn, closing my laptop before Billy could see his own face on it.

He looked unconvinced but didn’t press the matter further.

‘Frank is coming by later. We think we might have a lead.’

I nodded, tiredly. ‘Alright.’

‘You wanna try to get some sleep now?’ he said, raising his eyebrows.

I shook my head. ‘No, I’m good. Wouldn’t be the first time I pull an all-nighter. Besides, I got nothing to do today.’

I got up from my bed with a firm grip on my laptop. A slight chill went over my bare legs, but it was nothing compared to the chill that went down my spine when I saw Billy’s dark eyes looking down at them.

‘Don’t you have class this afternoon?’ he asked, his voice slightly lower than usual.

I pretended not to notice. ‘It got canceled.’

Billy shrugged. ‘Okay.’

He was about to turn around and leave but lingered slightly on the frame. ‘Put something on, it’s a bit cold this morning. Also, there are pancakes on the counter.’

He closed the door. The silence he left behind was almost too much to bear, like the ringing in your ears after hours of loud noise.

Another shiver reminded me of his words. They had let a tension in my muscles that I couldn’t comprehend. Opening my laptop once again, I finished reading the article while I put on some old sweatpants and a hoodie.

“‘[...] Here at Anvil, if you are recruited you will find that something. A new brotherhood to call your own. Something to fight for.’ Were the lines CEO William ‘Billy’ Russo spoke at the launch ceremony of his new private military firm. Despite initial backlash for the hiring of ex-members from all different branches of the US military forces, Anvil is now one of the top security enterprises of America, operating globally for the protection of private clients with overall positive results.”

I frowned as I finished reading. I didn’t want to get too deep into it, but I knew Anvil was my next target. Everything about Billy’s life was a complete mystery, from his years in the marines to the insane fortune he had amounted after the war, to his own involvement in the New York mafia.

Everything about Billy was dangerous. But I’d be lying if I said that didn’t pique my interest.

I quietly refreshed myself in the bathroom on my way out and found Billy comfortably sitting on my couch, watching the morning news on the TV with a big steaming mug of coffee in his hands. He didn’t acknowledge my presence, but I knew he was listening. He always was.

I raised my eyebrows at the sight, though, seeing him so casual and domestic in my living room, as if he had been living here forever. He already knew his way around the apartment, which only deepened my frown. Yet again, Billy knew everything about me, and I was constantly left in the dark about him, resorting to dubious articles on the Internet about his persona.

Grabbing my own food, I sat down next to him in silence, leaving a respectable space between us on the couch. I was too busy eating my breakfast and sipping an ungodly amount of coffee to notice Billy tensing beside me.

He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume, the sudden noise finally catching my attention.

‘An explosion in an old warehouse on the outskirts of Brooklyn has been reported earlier this morning. Luckily, nobody was near the incident, therefore no casualties have been disclosed to the authorities. Expert teams arrived shortly after the outburst to determine the reasons for the explosion, although no theories have been confirmed yet. The first reports indicate the possible inclusion of dynamite and other explosive artifacts, but the investigation could take longer than originally expected, for the structural damage prevents the teams to access the destroyed building further. Back to you, Martha.’

I looked at Billy through half-lidded eyes, noticing the tension in his jaw.

‘Billy? You okay?’

He took a few seconds to answer but ultimately nodded his head. It didn’t take long for me to connect the dots.

‘That warehouse was yours, wasn’t it?’ I asked, knowing the answer.

He nodded his head. ‘It was Anvil’s,’ he took his phone out, quietly typing something on it.

‘What did you keep in it?’

‘That’s classified.’

‘Of course, it is,’ I groaned, taking another sip from my coffee. ‘Is that why Frank’s coming later?’

‘Yeah.’

‘When did it happen?’ I interrupted Billy before he could answer with another excuse. ‘And don’t me it’s classified either, they’ll eventually say something on the news.’

He finally looked at me, his eyes slightly tired. ‘At four in the morning.’

‘Were you awake?’

‘Yeah. Were you?’

I closed my mouth in surprise. ‘Yeah.’

‘So we both didn’t sleep at all.’

‘I guess we didn’t.’

‘What were you doing up all night?’ Billy pressed again.

I snorted. ‘What, you think I snuck out and set fire to the warehouse?’

Incredibly, he smirked. ‘I know you didn’t. I would’ve heard you.’

‘What are you implying?’

‘You’re not that stealthy, you know. You don’t have to bother trying not to make noise when you go to the bathroom at night, I’m literally trained to hear everything.’

I blushed. ‘Alright, well, you didn’t have to bring that up.’

‘Sorry. But yeah, definitely not made to be a spy.’

‘Thank god I don’t wanna. Don’t like weapons, either.’

‘Such an academic.’

‘Shut up.’

‘Why were you awake?’ he pressed.

‘I just couldn’t sleep. It’s been hard lately,’ I didn’t meet his eyes. I simply stared at the warm concoction in my hands.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘And why were you awake? Besides being woken up by my clumsy feet, apparently?’

‘I’m always working. Crime doesn’t take vacations, you know.’

‘Right.’

‘I managed to sleep for an hour until Frank called me after the explosion,’ he stopped. ‘Somebody’s sending a message.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Couldn’t they just text?’

‘You are so funny, Dana Jones, I don’t know why you aren’t a comedian,’ despite his sarcasm, it brought a small smirk to my lips.

‘What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents,’ I said, flicking my head to the side.

‘Clearly.’

He stood up, fixed his pants, and stretched a bit. His t-shirt rid up enough to show the defined lines of his lower abdomen, and I quickly brought the big mug to my lips, hoping it would hide my growing blush.

‘I’m gonna take a shower. Is that alright?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah. All yours.’

Billy was about to disappear through the hallway when I called him back.

‘Thanks for the breakfast, by the way. These pancakes are insane.’

He nodded appreciatively. ‘I’m a man of many talents too.’

With that, he left the room, the running water sounding not long after.

I smirked, almost shyly. ‘Well, I can’t wait to see them.’

···

‘So, what are we talking about?’

‘Well…’ Frank started, but Billy quickly took over the conversation.

‘Dana, not now.’

‘Then when? ‘Cause, you’re kinda taking over my apartment so I think I deserve some input in this, right?’ I asked. I took one of the chairs at the small kitchen table and sat down next to them. ‘So tell me. What are we talking about?’

Karen smiled at me, while Frank and Billy shared a look, but with Billy’s sigh as a response, Frank started talking.

‘The Alcaides received another letter yesterday afternoon, with the coordinates of our warehouse on it. Whoever set the explosives knows we’re working with them.’

‘I’m surprised it took them that long,’ I shrugged.

‘They have probably known for some time, only they didn’t know how to send the message,’ Billy said.

I looked at him with a frown. ‘You’re awfully calm about this.’

‘This is exactly what we wanted them to do.’

‘Is it?’

‘They’re after Anvil too. If the mafia were the only victims, public opinion would even thank them. Now they’ve started a war with a business that protects pretty much all members of the US government. They’re setting themselves up for failure,’ Billy explained.

I kept quiet for a few seconds. ‘But, what are you going to do about it?’

‘Now we attack,’ Frank shrugged, typing something on his phone.

‘And how do we do it?’ yet I already knew what their answer was going to be.

‘That’s classified.’

Billy and Frank seemed amused when I too replied those same words. Billy shook his head while Karen stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the banter before her.

‘Anybody wants some coffee?’ I offered, getting up from my chair, just to keep myself occupied.

‘Yeah, please,’ Karen said.

‘Make it two,’ Billy also jumped.

‘Three,’ Frank grunted.

‘So four, got it.’

I tuned their conversation out slightly, my hands moving automatically while they discussed things I didn’t even want to fathom.

Life seemed to have become a mere whirlwind, with me standing right in the middle despite having always kept to my own devices. The ringing of my phone prevented me from having my thoughts led astray.

‘Hello?’ I picked it up without even glancing down at the caller.

‘Hey, loca, long time no see.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Hey, Owen, what’s up?’

Supporting my phone between my ear and shoulder, I left the coffee on the table with some difficulty, not wanting to bother the three adults that had taken over the entire space.

‘Nothing much, I guess. I was wondering if you’d like to go on that date you promised.’

‘Date?’ I frowned at his words, but it only deepened when I saw Billy whisk his head to the side and eye me intently. ‘Hold on.’

With that, I left the kitchen and got into my room, closing the door quickly behind me as I heard Billy’s steps run after me. Locking the door, I sat on my bed.

‘Everything alright?’ Owen asked, worry laced in his words.

‘Yeah, sorry, I was just turning the TV off. Too much noise.’

‘Well, yeah, date. You. Me. Date.’

I bit my lip, feeling somewhat conflicted. I had a huge respect for Owen, but the way my stomach did somersaults wasn’t what I had expected when asked on a date by a cute guy.

‘Well…’

‘Dana, c’mon, you promised. Just one. And we’ll see where we go from there,’ he pressed.

With every word he spoke, the more I wanted to say no.

Billy knocked on my door. ‘Dana?’

I sighed.

‘Who was that?’ Owen asked.

‘Just a neighbor.’

‘Okay. Listen, there’s this new exhibition at the MET. I thought maybe, you know, we could go check it out. Grab some ice cream later. And be home by 9 pm,’ he insisted.

‘Dana!’ Billy called from the other side of the door.

In a rush, I accepted, only to have a reason to cut the conversation short. ‘Alright.’

‘Really! That’s great! I’ll pick you up at 5 pm?’ he offered.

‘Actually, I’d rather meet at the stairs directly.’

‘Oh, yeah, alright,’ he sounded deflated, but the incessant knocking didn’t allow me to ask the reason why.

‘I’ll text you later, I gotta see what my neighbor wants. Okay? Bye,’ I ended the call before he could say anything else, and quickly opened my door, Billy’s fist inches away from my face. ‘What?’

Billy was fuming. ‘Are you kidding? You can’t go out on a date with him!’

‘Why not? You’re not my dad,’ I squeezed past him, trying to get away from him, but he grabbed my forearm and brought me closer to him.

My heartbeat picked up, and I only prayed Billy wouldn’t notice.

‘How many times do I have to tell you that it’s dangerous for you out there? We don’t even know who this Owen person is, and we both know it’d be so much safer for you to stay here until all this is over.’

‘Billy, it’s just ice cream and an art exhibition. I mean, the MET is like, one of the best-guarded places in the world. I think I’ll be fine,’ I retrieved my arm and walked back to the kitchen, sitting down again on the table. ‘Any updates?’ I asked no one in particular.

‘We are planning on setting up a trap with the Alcaides. Whoever’s after them won’t want to miss the chance of them together at the same place,’ Frank asked.

Billy sat down on the chair in front of me, glaring at me through his eyelashes, but I paid no notice to him. The last thing I wanted to give him was attention.

‘Does that include me?’ I’d be lying if I said the plan didn’t worry me a little.

‘Not now. We’re counting on them researching the family. You’ve never been directly attacked as they have, and though it could be a matter of time until you are, anybody in the right state of mind would know that you have no affiliation with that family whatsoever. I’m actually ‘leaking’ a few papers, just enough to get yourself an alibi when it comes to the family name,’ Karen explained.

I sighed, feeling the familiar weight of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. ‘Are you sure this is the best idea?’

‘Unfortunately, there is never a good idea when it comes to this,’ Karen stroked my arm comfortingly as I took a sip from my mug.

‘That’s not reassuring.’

‘I know, but don’t even worry, you know we’re not gonna let anything happen to you.’

The peace that came with her eyes was too strong not to believe. Even though I still had my doubts about everything, and despite Billy and Frank’s presence not being totally calming, something in her just made me want to fully trust her.

‘So, what’s that about a date?’ she asked, also taking a big gulp of coffee.

I blushed. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, really, just some art exhibition and ice cream.’

‘Those are the best ones,’ she winked.

Billy suddenly interrupted. ‘How?’

Karen rolled her eyes at him. ‘It’s casual. It’s all about the conversation, not the plan itself. You get to learn more about the person you’re seeing, rather than just bonding over a shared experience.’

‘You women are complicated,’ Frank groaned.

‘Say one more thing like that and I swear I’ll..,’ I replied, honestly tired of such remarks, but Karen cut me off.

‘Don’t bother, it’s not getting into his thick skull.’

‘You’re lucky your girlfriend’s cute, otherwise I would’ve punched you in the face already,’ I squinted my eyes, partly joking.

Frank snorted. ‘Good luck with that.’

‘Am I the only one who thinks the date is a bad idea?’ Billy tried again.

‘You’re insufferable,’ I shot.

‘It’s a casual date, Billy, she’ll be fine,’ Karen aided me, much to my relief. I winked at her in return.

‘She’s got a target on her back and you think a date is going to be safe? Am I the only one here that is thinking straight? Besides, Dana, you don’t even wanna go!’ he complained again.

I sighed. ‘I mean, I don’t know, I love pissing you off more right now, so if going on a date will do that…’ I trailed off, yet I quickly wiped the smile off my face as soon as I saw his. ‘Alright, sorry, but c’mon, I already told you, we’re going to the MET. That’s it. Feel free to join us,’ I added sarcastically.

‘I might have to,’ he replied.

‘Hell, no, you’ll do no such thing. Billy, just… one afternoon, that’s all I ask,’ I was on the verge of begging at that point.

‘No.’

‘Billy!’

‘Dana!’

‘You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?’

He raised his voice too. ‘Of course, I do. And if being an asshole will keep you safe, then so be it.’

‘I’m still going on that date with Owen.’

That seemed to catch even Frank’s attention.

‘Who’s Owen?’ Karen asked.

‘A classmate. He came into the café the other day.’

‘Ooh, he was cute,’ Karen smirked.

‘Yeah, but he’s not on their files,’ I mocked Billy, glaring at him once again.

Karen glared at Billy too. ‘That’s a shame. You deserve to have some fun too.’

‘Then it’s settled,’ I clapped loudly. I stood up from my seat, grabbing my mug and phone. ‘And if you,’ I pointed a finger to Billy. ‘Decide to ruin everything for me, know there is no single place in hell where I won’t find you. I’ll end you, Billy Russo.’

‘Nice threat,’ Karen winked back.

‘Dana…’ Billy started.

‘I’m going to take a nap if you’d let me. I’m tired,’ I fixed my eyes on him, looking at him rather harshly, before saying goodbye to Frank and Karen, without giving Billy another glance.

‘Fucking dick,’ I muttered, before locking myself in the room once more.

···

‘What are you watching?’ Billy’s voice made me jump in my spot. I had been too engrossed in the episode that I hadn’t even heard him come in.

I side-eyed him, not wanting to give him any attention. It was late in the evening now, and I hadn’t even seen Billy after the fight with Karen and Frank. I had retreated to my bedroom to sleep, and only came out when I heard the shower running, indicating that we were both alone once again. Rapidly claiming the couch, I had resorted to rewatching a show, if only to forget about the dark-haired man on the other side of the wall who was making my life a living hell, all the while making me question things about myself.

‘Bridgerton.’

He groaned. ‘Oh god.’

I immediately got defensive. ‘What? I like it.’

‘What’s up with chicks and period dramas?’ he complained, but sat beside me regardless, resuming the same position I had found him in this morning.

I shrugged. ‘Pretty dresses, romantic music, and men who don’t completely treat us like fucking toys,’ I offered, hoping he would get the message.

‘Sorry to burst your bubble, but I think Bridgerton does still treat women like toys,’ he grabbed one of the couch’s pillows and hugged it closer to him.

‘Well… true. But the slow burn…’ I said almost wistfully, looking back at the screen. I almost forgot we were still feuding.

‘The what?’

I chuckled. ‘The build-up romance. The tension between the characters just grows slowly, and when something does finally happen, it’s just so satisfying to watch.’

Billy stared at me with a small frown. ‘But that takes forever!’

‘That’s the point.’

‘It’s frustrating.’

‘I know.’

‘And you like that?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re weird.’

‘I’m not!’ I hit him with another pillow, but Billy only laughed.

‘I mean, if you truly love someone, why wait so long to even kiss them?’

‘Billy, it’s a period drama, you can’t just simply sleep with people as you, please. There was a strict etiquette at the time.’ I explained.

‘Yeah, that’s why that man’s fucking that girl,’ he pointed to the screen, where Anthony Bridgerton was indeed naked in bed with Sienna, the opera singer.

‘You’re a man, you know how it goes. Rules don’t apply to you. The richer you are, the more liberties you can take.’

‘And her?’

‘She’s not from the ton.’

‘Are you even speaking English right now?’

I audibly chuckled at him. ‘The English society, Billy, the higher classes! She’s an artist from the 19th century, she’s not wealthy like him.’

‘And why is that a problem?’

‘You really are thick, aren’t you,’ I rolled my eyes at him. ‘They’re not from the same world, Billy. Society at that time wouldn’t approve of a viscount marrying an actress.’

‘That’s stupid.’

‘Well, it’s true. But yeah, she’s not a lady. Barely a citizen at the time. But proper ladies had to wait till marriage to even address a man other than their family by their first name.’

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

‘I’m not. You couldn’t even be in the same room with a man without someone else as a chaperone. I mean that’s the whole point of this season,’ even though I kept my eyes on the screen, the entire show had already been forgotten.

‘And why, pray tell, is it so satisfying to watch in the end?’ Billy ran a hand through his hair. Some loose strands still fell over his eyes. ‘Losing so many hours watching two hot-headed characters deny their feelings until they can’t anymore?’

‘Just imagine the pent-up tension. I mean, even touching hands was considered improper.’

‘I’m so glad I live in the 21st century.’

‘Obviously.’

‘Are you really going out with Owen tomorrow?’

‘Yeah,’ I frowned at his sudden change of topic.

‘I still think you shouldn’t go.’

‘Well, unluckily for you, you don’t get to decide that.’

He waited. ‘You know I’ll be around watching you, right?’

I sighed. ‘That I do.’

‘Then why are you going ahead with all this?’

‘Because I need to, Billy.’

‘Do you even like this guy?’

I paused, his words sinking. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Then why are you going?’

‘Because I won’t know until I try.’

‘It’s a date, Dana, not a fucking free sample.’

I finally looked at him, although his stare was also on the screen. ‘Billy, I haven’t made a single decision since you came into my life. So please, just let me have this. You’ll be around, if anything happens, you’ll be there, right?’

My tone was harsher than I expected, but apparently, it was enough to shut him up. He looked at me with reluctant eyes but eventually nodded his head.

‘Yeah.’

‘Promise me you’ll let me fight this battle.’

‘I promise.’

‘Good.’

We both resumed our positions, sitting straighter as we looked at the screen.

‘So, what’s the show about?’

Next chapter

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x oc #the punisher #billy russo imagine #marvel #the punisher au #frank castle #billy russo could step on my back and i'd say thank you

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kaybee87 · 2 years

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Red

So I’m on my period and this is what came out of that, apologies in advance!!

Warnings; NSFW as usual, minors DNI! Period sex so if that’s not for you please keep scrolling. Also totally unformatted because I’m too lazy!

You hadn’t known Marco long, you’d met through mutual friends and had got along so well you’d been hanging out away from the group. You liked him a lot more than just friends but you hadn’t been brave enough to take the next step for fear he didn’t feel the same. Today he’d messaged you several times and you hadn’t replied to one, you weren’t trying to be mean but you were on your period and the cramps were awful you weren’t comfortable enough to share that with Marco yet so you’re go to was to just ignore the phone.

Unfortunately you couldn’t ignore the knocking at your door. “Come on I know you’re in there,” he called through the door. You answered looking rather frail and his face instantly softened. “Are you avoiding me?” He asked. You shook your head but then doubled over as a cramp hit you hard. He realised the problem instantly and guided you gently to the sofa. He sat down pulling you with him and with one arm around you he laid his big hand low on your lower stomach. The warmth brought an instant feeling of relief and you let out a sigh snuggling closer into his side. “You should’ve told me earlier, I would’ve come straight over,” he spoke softly into your ear as though afraid to disturb your new found peace. “Sorry I didn’t know if we were really at a stage to share this sort of thing,” you blushed a little at your foolishness.

After watching a movie cuddled together on the couch it was starting to get late and you could no longer suppress your yawns. “I guess I should make a move it’s getting..” “Stay,” you interrupted him “please”. Marco smiled and nodded and you walked him towards your room. It was a bit awkward getting yourselves ready and situated in the bed but once you were in and Marco put his hand back on your stomach you relaxed again and found yourself drifting off.

When you awoke in the morning it took you a minute to register your situation. You were on your side, Marco’s body curled up against your back with his hand still on your lower stomach but this time inside your sleep shorts. Before you had time to bask in this though you felt a warmth between your legs and jumped out of bed with an “oh god” turning to look at Marco and seeing the mark on the front of his boxers you let out an “oh fuck” this time and threw yourself into your bathroom in embarrassment. You stood there for a moment in utter horror when you heard your name. “Please don’t be embarrassed,” you ignored him. “Honestly I’m not that much of a jerk that something like this is gonna bother me, it’s completely out of your control.” Still you didn’t respond. “You really think this is the first time I’ve had blood on my dick.” Ok that got you “eww Marco that’s gross”. You heard him chuckling and you couldn’t help but smile you were starting to like that sound a little too much. “Come on, open up,” he pleaded. You opened the door, only to remember you still hadn’t been able to clean yourself up. Marco held out his hand “thought you might need some fresh clothes,” he lent around you to start the shower and then putting his face close to yours he whispered “it’s not like it could put me off you anyway”.

You didn’t hold back, leaning up you connected your lips to his, you were heated in your approach letting all the feelings you’d been holding back out in that one kiss. Marco responded instantly and swiped his tongue along your lip begging you to open up. You were more than willing to oblige and your arms went round Marco’s neck trying to get impossibly closer. He slipped his hands under your top until they were cupping your breasts but not yet breaking the kiss he ran his thumbs over your hardening nipples and you couldn’t hold back a moan. Removing his lips from yours for the first time had you feeling slightly lost but then he was pulling your sleep top over your head and looking at you like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever laid eyes on. His tongue poked out and flicked a circle around your left nipple and your legs buckled a little, pleased with the response he repeated the action on your right one and you felt like you might melt into a puddle right there on the bathroom floor.

Marco swiftly removed the boxers he’d been sleeping in and you couldn’t help the hungry look you gave him, he moved forward to remove your shorts also and you hesitated knowing the state you were in. He gave you a soft reassuring smile and gently tugged down everything from your lower half leaving you completely exposed to him. He pushed you gently into the shower and followed in behind you. Picking up the shower gel and a flannel you decided you’d clean him up only fair after you’d made all the mess. You washed his entire body constantly staying away from his cock, you knew you were teasing him, hell you could see the reaction his body was having. Eventually you brought the flannel around him giving an experimental tug, when you were sure you’d actually cleaned up the mess you dropped the flannel and moved your hand back to his aching cock. “Uh uh, your turn,” he said and spun you so your back was to him. He gently washed your entire body saving all the good bits for last of course, it was your own fault you’d teased him first. When he’d soaped up your breasts he went back to massaging them with his hands and when he raked his nails gently across your nipples your entire body arched into him of its own accord. He gingerly moved the flannel down your lower stomach, all the time watching your face for signs that you were uncomfortable. When he got low enough you simply moved your legs further apart from him and he took this as his cue, he ran the flannel all along the inside of your thighs, up and across the outside of your pussy before gently moving in between your lips. You’re pretty sure you should feel ashamed, maybe even disgusted but all you felt was an incredible sense of intimacy that you’d never felt with anyone else before. After a minute or so Marco dropped the flannel and run his bare fingers over your clit, you’d never done anything sexual whilst on your period before but it seemed as though everything was heightened, everything felt.. well just more!

You felt a finger start to slide inside you, all whilst his thumb was still working at your clit. After a second he inserted another finger and curled them upwards. The feeling of his fingers pumping against your spot and his thumb working your clit made you lose it in no time. Your whole body juddering and your pussy clamping down on his fingers you cried out his name. He took you through your high and then his lips were back on yours still as heated as before. He moved your legs apart slightly and lined his cock up with your entrance, he looked at you to make sure you were sure and when you gave him a nod he pushed into you. He didn’t go easy on you he filled you up in one swift motion but he did at least stop once completely in to allow you time to adjust to him. Taking a deep breathe you nodded for him to move, he started off slow but deep but with every thrust his pace increased. He pushed you further up against the wall of the shower and wrapped one of your legs around his waist, you held on to his biceps to steady yourself and turned your face upwards into the stream of water. As Marco pummelled into you, you knew you were getting close again but you could tell he was as well. “Need you to come now, not gonna last much longer,” he grunted out. But you held your orgasm off until the last minute making sure you came together.

He laid his forehead on yours and smiled at you, “why did we wait so long to do that?” He asked. “I wasn’t sure you liked me that way,” you answered, suddenly feeling vulnerable you lowered your head to face the floor. Marco put two fingers under your chin and tilted your head back up. “Wanted you since the first moment I saw you, I’m glad we got to know each other first though because now it’s so much more than lust”.

@mylifeisactuallyamess

#marco ilso x reader #marco ilsø #vikings fanfiction #vikings #vikings fic #Marco ilso x you #Marco ilso

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faintlyof · 4 months

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drifted off and had the most interesting dream...

not new, but a newer one

i almost made it to the ending just now...or at least where it seems like it should end, i don't know, maybe there's more...

i wish i could remember the premise and not just the endingest part

me and a partner were...protecting grandma and grandpa, but we were also...doing this we needed to hide from them? you know like when shit hits the fan, they pretend everythings going fine? liek when talking on the phone or something? i don't remember like anything, but there was cool risky stuff and i remember kicking something?

but there was like...a big i dont know almost mass extinction event happening? the outside world was grim and people were pulling party cracker like instant explosion things to escape. like instantly vaporized with minimum bloodshed

whatever we had been trying to do, we couldn't so we and the granparents decided we should also just end things on our terms. we decided to go out dancing (like cheek to cheek, waltzing or something), so we danced

but before we could die (i dont remember how that was supposed to happen but it was supposed to be painless), a random nurse who appeared said gramma wouldnt be able to because she had big black abscesses in her legs and wouldnt be able to keep dancing (??? my brain just tossing out whatever, i guess)

and grandpa also wasnt doing well, he couldnt breathe (i think i was waking up here, because it got really chaotic really fast and continuity was totally lost)

so we quickly said our goodbyes and comforted him while he slowly slumped over, saying thank you. so we moved on to getting grandma to the bed, awkwardly pushing her wheelchair down the hall. we managed to get her on the bed and she eventually passed as well.

my partner (i dont think we were romantically involved, but we were acting sort of like spies?? so?? what relationship???) and i decided to end it quickly by

and then i woke up. ツ

like come on i was so close to knowing the ending.

i think this is maybe the second time ive seen this one.

not all of my dreams become recurring dreams, but this one might.

its not a happy dream, but they never are, i guess.

i want to know what happens next. if it was some kind of mass extinction event, why were we prolonging it and what were my partner and i doing the whole time? who was that random nurse who popped it at the end, did we know her from earlier? what was the dancing plan?? how would that have worked??

i tried to fall back into the dream, but i couldn't ><

anyways, yeah im going to bed it's 3:45 am now

#tw death #it was just a dream nobody actually died #but yeah

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alarickratos · 8 months

Text

Entry Log // Book One

Entry Log: Day One

"Just arrived at this camp. Feels more like a summer camp which I wasn't expecting. I could still smell the familiar air of war. Of loss and fear mixed with sweat and dried blood. Almost feel like home already after one of my earlier tours. My cabin was pretty intense, everything a challenge to achieve even getting to my bed. Climbing the rope is easier than usual. Noticing the new strength after I almost pulled a pegasus wing off trying to hold on. Once I grab some food I'll do some endurance runs and maybe find something to test this strength against."

Entry log: Day Three

"Update on the strength, cracked a rock punching it. Did a couple practice hits to test pulling my punches. Not enjoying the thought of potentially punching my fist through someone's head. Checked out most of the lands layout and scouting any potential breaks lines of defense sight I could find. The place has some sort of magic defense as I was told but best to cover all bases. Might set myself a perimeter watch. Checked out the armory, not a gun in sight. Guess I had to expect that being a little modern of age for this place. I did find these glaives. It was an interesting weapon I hadn't did much work with but I spent most of the day trying to get a feel of it. I think I might try modding it a bit, just need to find a chain."

Entry Log: Day Six

"Got a pretty solid schedule for the day to keep up training and help around the camp where I can. Did some digging over some of the past mission I missed and looks like these guys have been in some tough fights. Tougher than I expect given how soft civilian they are around here. I managed to get a chain and with a little help from the guys at the forge customized it a bit to something I might can work with. Going down to the Arena to see how many spars I can do before quitting."

Entry Log: Day Seven

"Six, six matches is the answer. Got my ass pretty kicked in the last one so maybe more like five. I'm starting to see out my right eye again so the recovery process is a bit enhanced along with some of my other basic skills. Heard some of the others are heading out on a mission. And there was whispers that one of their people did a Trial and wasn't making it back. I really need to make sure I'm ready for this fight. With all my experience this is a different playing field. Think my eye is good enough to get me down to the Arena again today. Right after I pop my shoulder back into place again."

#entry log #will be updated along the way

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pixiemunsons · 2 years

Text

insatiable (a.b)

a/n: hi I literally can’t stop thinking about the bridgerton men as dads. it’s got me all hot and bothered. this is only a tiny wee drabble so enjoy!

talk of being pregnant and pregnant bodies, bit of breeding kink, anthony is a sweetheart

anthony first thought something might be wrong with you when he couldn’t keep you off him. not that he was complaining; he quite enjoyed every second he spent deep inside you, his name falling from your lips as he took you in bed, over the desk in his office and once, not that he’d ever tell anyone - including benedict - on one of the chairs in the lounging room. you had been so desperate for him that he had bent you over right where you were with a hand over your mouth, whispering in your ear what a terribly dirty girl you were, and you had only just finished pulling your clothes on when colin had walked in, side-eyeing you both suspiciously.

he hadn’t mentioned it to you, of course. he was quite enjoying himself, even if a nagging voice in the back of his head was reminding him of a conversation he’d had with a married friend not months earlier.

‘she keeps asking me,’ the lord had chuckled after a few too many drinks in the men’s club one night, ‘if i will bed her. we’ve been married a year and she can’t keep her hands away from me.’ it had not been a month later that she had announced that she was with child. you and anthony had discussed having children, of course, but never quite talked about when, and he was too scared to break the newlywed trance that the two of you were so clearly enjoying.

───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───

unbeknownst to your husband, you were having similar concerns. daphne nearly choked on her tea when, on an afternoon visit, you asked if she’d ever experienced such bouts of… neediness.

‘i’m sorry to ask, daphne, i know he’s your brother. but…’ you leaned in close, hoping that the maids scattered around the room wouldn’t hear you ‘it appears i can’t stop myself from touching him. i feel like i need him all the time. i know we have just married but it’s as if i’m being pulled to him by some sort of… force.’

after she had gotten over her initial shock, a mischievous glint had appeared in her eyes, and the ghost of a smile whispered over her lips.

‘i found myself in much the same way, dear sister, not long after i married simon.’ she took a long sip of her drink, peering at you from over the top of her teacup ‘it turned out i was having a baby.’

once you processed the initial shock and calmed daphne down from her initial excitement (‘i’m to be an aunt!’ she had declared loudly, and you had hit her arm in a very unladylike fashion to shut her up), you made your way home, deep in thought about your discussion. you hadn’t been married but two months, how could you be-

oh.

you had been married to anthony for seven weeks, four days and around eighteen hours. you rushed upstairs to the toilet, looking down at your very clean underwear. no monthly. not this month or last.

shit.

───

you were sat very primly on your bed when your husband walked in, undoing his neck tie and loosening his sleeves as he rambled about something you weren’t really paying attention to.

‘so i told him, if he can’t pay his debts, then he needs to… y/n, darling, are you quite alright?’ at the sound of your name you looked up, and anthony saw for the first time that there were tears in your eyes. he immediately came to sit by you, taking your hand in his and rubbing over it soothingly, only serving to push a fresh wave of tears to brim at the surface. he reached a hand up to stroke your face, and almost burst out into tears himself when you pulled away ever so slightly.

‘you’re going to be so upset with me,’ you cried, and slumped into his lap, sniffling into his trousers. you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head, trying to work out what you were talking about. ‘have you run up a debt at the modiste? broken something? did you hurt yourself dancing with gregory again? i keep telling him to be more gentle with you,’ he exclaimed, rubbing your back with a strong hand.

‘i’m going to have a baby,’ you whispered, and you almost thought he hadn’t heard you when two firm hands gripped your hips and pulled you up to face him. you painstakingly dragged your eyes to his own, expecting to see disappointment but instead being met with a gaze so intensely loving you almost felt the need to flinch away from it.

‘why,’ he breathed through his nose, ‘would i ever be mad at you for carrying my child?’ he questioned you intently, his right hand moving slowly from your hip up to your stomach, where he touched you with a feather-light brush of his fingers. a huge grin spread across his face, and you squealed as he suddenly stood up, picking you up and twirling you around.

‘i thought you might be. we’ve only just got married, and-‘

‘well, you know what this means?’ he quirked a brow as he planted you on the floor, taking your lips in a searing kiss. ‘i’ve got plenty of years to put plenty of babies in you yet. we’ve just got started.’

───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───

you panted as you kissed your husband, his tongue slipping quickly between your lips as his hand wandered down your neck, fondling your breasts briefly as he made his way down your blossoming belly to where you needed him most. you reached a hand up to tug on his hair, eliciting a low growl from anthony as he slipped first one finger, then two, into you.

‘i could get used to this,’ he moaned lowly into your mouth. ‘six months round with my baby and still, you’re absolutely insatiable.’ you chuckled breathily at his words, turning onto your left side as he curved his body around yours from behind, kissing down the side of your neck. ‘every morning, every night,’ he murmured, ‘and even sometimes inbetween.’ you turned your neck to admonish him lightly, but he just wiggled his eyebrows in return. as he freed himself from his sleeping clothes, he continued.

‘i wonder if you’ll be like this with every baby?’ he moaned out, grasping your nightgown in his other hand and gathering it up around your full waist. ‘ wanting my cock…’ he accentuated this with a full thrust into you, settling himself in right up to your womb as he had been at least twice a day every day for the last five months. you cried out his name, reaching behind you to hold his hand over your hip. ‘i do want it anthony, want it so much’ you babbled, rocking yourself back against him at every thrust, desperate for more.

‘careful sweetheart,’ he brushed some hair back behind your ear and reached down to kiss your neck gently, ‘this is what got you in this situation in the first place.’ you chuckled as you leant back against his chest, allowing him to do all the work as you laid in bliss.

if this is how it feels every time, you thought to yourself, i’ll have as many babies as he wants.

#anthony bridgerton #Anthony bridgerton fanfiction #Anthony bridgerton smut #Anthony bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton smut #colin bridgerton #Colin bridgerton imagines #Colin bridgerton smut #Colin bridgerton fanfiction #Anthony bridgerton x you #Benedict bridgerton x you #Colin bridgerton x you #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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nat something about toji drives me absolutely feral, can i have a scenario or something where he meets reader at a bar and they have a steamy one night stand i don’t know i just want this beeg beefy dilf to absolutely ruin my puthy (fem reader please!)

anon, i really hope you have a corruption kink

Favourite (So Far) - Toji x Fem!Reader (5k)

Toji sees you sitting alone at a bar; all quiet and soft and unsure, and absolutely begging to be ruined - and he decides he can help with that.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. not sfw, mentions of murder. corruption kink, virgin reader, dacryphilia, fingering, coming inside, dirty talk.

Toji normally doesn’t bother lingering after he’s held up his end of the bargain, but the money is burning a hole in his pocket and the minute he’d left the body of the man he’d been hired to kill locked in the back office of the bar, he’d remembered you.

He estimates he’s got a good half an hour before anyone realises the man is dead. If they’d wanted him to clear up after himself, they should have written it in the contract – still, with how awkward you’d looked and how your eyes kept darting about the place, Toji is pretty sure he’ll have you away from the bar and with his arm around your waist in . . . ooh, ten minutes? Fifteen, at a push.

He knows your type.

You’re uncomfortable, watching your friends go off and flirt and dance – pulling at your skirt (you’re uncomfortable in that, too), tugging your thin shirt up to cover your chest, ordering something non-alcoholic and looking morosely at it. Your eyes avoiding when men try and catch your gaze, your posture tensing – he’s pretty certain that you do not want to be here, and Toji is going to offer you an alternative that he thinks you might prefer.

You don’t notice him until he’s right beside you (people never do), leaning in against your ear, one of his arms slapping on the bar beside you, caging you in on your barstool. You start, moving back, blinking your pretty eyes at him in clear surprise, your mouth a soft ‘o’ – ah. Toji can tell you’re the kind of girl who isn’t used to male attention, who doesn’t think that you’re anything special. Shy. Probably untouched-- he’s grinning at you, and he doesn’t miss the little swallow, the flash of interest in your eyes (girls like you always like the idea of getting involved in something a little dangerous)--

“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?”

The voice is rough and low and dark, startling you from your reverie. Your friends have all, indeed, long gone – after sighing at you that you’re no fun, that they shouldn’t have asked you to come out with them anyway – you’re surprised by the man it belongs to, all raven hair and piercing green eyes and a scar on his lip that your eyes can’t help but trace the line of – how does somebody end up with a scar like that?

“Oh,” you bluster, feeling embarrassed and unsure by the way he’s looking at you, the easy way he throws out the pet name, the casual authority he’s emanating by how you’ve been caged. “I’m-- I don’t really--”

He chuckles.

“Me neither,” he says. “Lemme get you somethin’ soft, then--”

It would be easier, he thinks, if you had agreed – if you’d been softened a little bit by the buzz of alcohol. Still, he knows that what he gives off is heady enough that you’ll come with him anyway – he doesn’t drink himself, so he’s not exactly going to blame you for wanting to keep your wits about you. Smart thing, for all of how vulnerable you look in a short skirt and high heels and a low-cut top. He’s ordered something for you before you can refute – you can’t deny to yourself that it’s nice. It’s nice to have someone be interested in you. It’s nice, too, that said someone is rugged and six foot something with corded veins and muscle in thick biceps and forearms.

You’re staring at him, and Toji allows it, letting his own gaze crawl across your pretty face, your body, the way the cheap lights of this dive are picking out the shine in your eyes and the gloss of your lipstick.

“What’s a cute little thing like you doin’ on her own somewhere like this?” He asks you, lifting the glass to his lips. You try not to stare at them, though your stomach is twisting. You shrug, awkwardly.

“I got dragged here by some friends,” you say, inclining your head towards the dance-floor, where your friends are very much living up to their earlier assertion that they were going to have a wild time and if you weren’t going to join in, then you could just wallow in your misery.

“Ah,” he raises his eyebrows, eyes briefly brushing over where you’d indicated before returning to you. Something about the way that those eyes are pinning you like a butterfly to a cork board makes you squirm, heat curling in your lower belly. Nobody has ever looked at you like that before. This man is staring at you like he wants to take you apart, and it’s exhilarating. “You not the dancin’ sort, huh?” Another swallow. The bob in his throat is mesmerising. “Can’t blame ya. Pretty thing like you’s probably inundated with attention the minute y’get out there--”

You laugh, softly, heat rising to your cheeks. Toji can’t help but think how cute that is – you’re so obviously unaware of yourself. When he gets you on your back, he knows you’ll have that certain kind of naivety that never fails to get him hard and aching in his pants; wide eyes and bitten lips and breath dying in your throat at the touch of his teeth and hands and cock.

“Nothing like that,” you say, “I just--”

Your eyes catch something. Toji looks too, as you’re interrupted by a pretty girl tottering up to you both in an even shorter skirt and even higher heels. Her eyes linger on Toji, a fraction too long, before she turns to you and pouts and says your name, making you wince. There’s a whining tone to her voice.

She’s complaining that someone’s spilt a drink over her, and Toji sees now that her expensive-looking shirt is stained dark brown. He hadn’t noticed the scent of beer wafting from her because of the overall air of the bar is absolutely saturated in it, but now that she’s right there . . . he wrinkles his nose.

“You have to come home with me, nobody else will,” she tugs on your arm. “And you said you weren’t having fun anyway, so you can always stay there, but I need to change out of this--”

There’s a world-weary quality in your eyes. Something that suggests to Toji that you’re used to being the designated person to take care of your friends, to dropping things to clean up after them – those big eyes and the downturn of your mouth and the softness of your voice all suggest to him that maybe part of the reason you’re so demure, so . . . innocent . . . is because you haven’t had a chance to explore anything else.

Toji drapes a thick arm around your shoulders. You jump at the contact – but almost as if it’s against your will, you nestle into him. Closer to him. A prey animal knows when it’s being protected, after all – even if it doesn’t know, yet, that he’s the predator.

“We’re a bit busy here,” he says, keeping his tone affable with a knife-sharp edge. The girl opens her mouth, as if she’s going to protest – but Toji grins, his eyes darkening, his mouth tilting to show just a little bit too much teeth. He lets himself draw himself up a little taller, so that his breadth and his height and the taut muscles beneath his tight shirt are unarguable. Your friend falters, shoots you a look, and then shrugs.

“F-fine,” she says, “I’ll go on my own--”

She walks away, pouting, storm clouds rising off of her. You’re trembling imperceptibly (adorable) – he thinks this might be the first time you’ve ignored one of your friends. Eager to please little thing, he supposes – the kind of person who wants to be liked and will do almost anything to keep it that way, with big doe eyes and a trembling lip and your chest thrust out unconsciously.

Oh, he will ruin you, and you’ll thank him for it afterwards.

“Sorry if I’m oversteppin’ my boundaries there,” he says to you, and you look at him with your eyes big and wide and wet your lips, his cock giving an answering throb. You breathe very softly;

“N-no, thank you, it’s . . . it’s nice to not have to deal with them, for once--”

Toji leans further into you, his arm not leaving your shoulders – close enough that his breath tickles the shell of your ear, and your brain short-circuits at a handsome older man leaning so close and intimately to you.

“You don’t wanna stay here, though, do ya?” His other hand is suddenly on your leg, calloused fingertips brushing the soft skin of your thigh. Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting – threads of heat sewing themselves into knots between your thighs. “You wanna split?”

His eyes do not stray to the clock behind the bar, but he estimates it’s been about eleven minutes. Longer than he was expecting, but – as you bite your lip and stand up, letting his fingertips drag dangerously close to the part of you between your legs, Toji decides it’s worth it.

His place is nothing special. For a man as well-paid as he is, you’d expect something a little classier, maybe – but for a man with the kind of profession Toji Fushiguro has, he doesn’t spend much time in it. He’s too busy travelling to care about it beyond anything other than a place to crash, eat, and bring home his conquests. And you don’t seem disgusted by it as he pushes you roughly into the room, arm locking around your waist, mouth dipping to taste you – so Toji doesn’t worry about it too much.

You’re still trembling against him, your entire body thrumming with energy that you’re not used to – but that all works to his advantage. It works to the advantage of directing you into his room, until your back hits the bed with a soft ‘whoomph’ of air and Toji is kneeling over you, your eyes big and wide and blown as they look up at him.

You’d been so easy to convince back here. You’d made a couple of quiet whispers about how you shouldn’t, the way that good girls like you do – but his fingers had cupped your cheek and his body had pressed against yours and he’d smiled that dangerous knife-edge smile and you’d been putty in his hands, trembling kneed and so very adaptable as you’d walked beside him with your breath unsteady in your chest at your own daring.

Now, though, with a man’s bed behind you and a man’s cock digging into your stomach where he has you caged underneath him, things are beginning to feel far more real. You take another shuddering breath, not meeting his eyes as you whisper;

“I—I haven’t--”

Oh, fuck. If you knew what those little words did to him – if you could have heard the monster roaring in his chest at how excited he was that he’d not only get to utterly ruin you, but to get to be the first one to do it . . . He’d let himself hope, based on your way of holding yourself all demure and prim, that you’d be a virgin, but to hear it from your own lips with your skin rapidly heating up under the confession.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Toji practically coos at you, as his big fingers go to your shirt, tugging it off with expert precision. “I ain’t gonna break you—”

(Well. Not in any way you aren’t going to beg for.)

Breath caught in your throat as your bra is unclipped, the lacy garment dropped onto the floor. His own shirt follows – you can barely stop yourself ogling him, the firm abdominal muscles, the scars across his pectorals. You can tell, based on how many scars he’s bearing, just how dangerous the man above you must be.

The one like a starburst is a bullet scar, you’re pretty sure. The one wrapping around his side is too big to be anything but a knife or a sword – this is a man involved in something dangerous, something shady – and even that isn’t enough to get you to ask him to stop.

Staring down at your newly exposed breasts, Toji can’t resist leaning in; sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the sensitive bud, lapping at it until your back arches and you whimper so prettily that it goes straight through him and straight to his cock. The wet kisses trail back up to your neck, blunt teeth tugging at your skin, sucking quickly stinging bruise marks into the skin so that everybody will know what this cute little virgin was up to last night--

A rough tug to your earlobe makes you moan. A nip to your lower lip makes you practically mewl. And his rough fingertips pushing up your skirt to your waist, letting his fingers dig into your plush thighs so hard that there’s no way you won’t be marked with fingerprints tomorrow – that makes you whine.

“You like bein’ pushed around a little bit, cutie?” The pet name, again, has blood rushing to your face and heat rushing to between your legs. You’re suddenly so very aware of how slick you are, how your underwear is clinging to the folds of your sex. How much of that is his fingers and how much of it is his voice and how much of it is how exposed you are in front of him, you don’t know – but you bite your lip and avert your gaze, and this just seems to spur him on. Both of you know the answer: yes. Yes, you do like being pushed around a little bit--

“These are soaking wet,” he tells you, as the matching lacy underwear to your bra is peeled off of you. He readjusts himself, grabbing your thigh and pressing your knee against your chest so that he can move his hips between your two legs as well as get a proper look at what you’ve been hiding beneath the tiny skirt – he lets out a low whistle, those green eyes greedily drinking you in like you’re a painting hung in an art gallery. “Well, look at you. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

He sees how the compliment makes you squirm at the same time as it makes your cute little hole, exposed thanks to the stretch of your leg, flutter around nothing. He might break you if he doesn’t prepare you properly; you’re so small, and it’s been a real long time since he bedded a virgin--

One of his fingers drags through your slick with no preamble, brushing your fluttering hole, and the noise catches in your throat – halfway between a whimper and a soft sigh, a noise that does not serve to do anything but make him repeat the motion, gathering your glimmering arousal on the same thick digit. He brings it to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you.

“Mm, you should taste yourself,” he says to you, eyes glinting. “You’re like honey, sweetheart--” Toji doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no. His finger pushes past your lips, so you’re forced to taste yourself on his fingertips, brushing over your tongue. His eyes focus very deeply on you, like you’re the only thing in his orbit worth paying attention to. “Why don’t you give my finger a suck, darlin’? You’ll want it as wet as you can get it--”

Not that you’re not plenty wet enough. But there’s something so endearing about the feel of your tongue hesitantly licking at him, the shine of your eyes. If he wasn’t hard enough to cut diamonds, he would have you suck his cock first, if only to see those pretty lips wrapped around his shaft and to hear you choke a little bit, to see your makeup go runny and messy and ruined--

“Atta girl,” he says, roughly, pulling his finger out (the trail of drool sends another of those throbs of heat through him). The finger drags over your slit again, parting the plump lips – and then, he’s pushing his finger inside you, your walls pulsing around him. You’re so fucking tight. He knows you weren’t lying about being a virgin – the gasp that dies in your throat, the hand that tangles in his bedsheets, the little lift of your hips to help him along – all of those are things that are entirely sensation responses, not in the least calculated, and Toji loves that.

The finger pumps in and out of you, helped along by your slick, until he can press another alongside it and scissor them gently, stretching out your channel in preparation for what you’re going to take in a matter of minutes. Your teeth keep digging into your bottom lip, as if you’re afraid to make too much of a noise – he chuckles as he brushes your swollen clit with his thumb.

“C’mon,” he growls, “don’t hold out on me. Lemme hear you--”

Oh, you’re so embarrassed – but you’re also, he can tell, the kind of girl who can’t resist an order. You let your mouth relax, drop open – and next time his thumb rubs firmly across your clit, the noise is caught only by the ceiling above you both. He makes some little noise of praise that you can’t fully discern, because now he’s started pulling forth your pleasure he doesn’t want to stop. Three fingers. His thumb, toying with your clit, rubbing firm circles with it as he feels your channel clench and quiver around his fingers. He rubs at the textured spot on your inner walls and you groan, your other hand gripping his forearm, your brow forming sweat. Your hips are circling, needy, in search of more stimulation.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Toji asks you, his voice like cigarettes and leather. “C’mon. Let me see-- let me feel your pretty cunt clench--”

Something about the dirty words pushes you over the edge and you tumble down a dark hole, fireworks exploding inside of you, stars bursting into being behind your eyelids as pleasure washes over you in great waves. You soak Toji’s fingers, your walls sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Your breath comes in great pants, the aftershocks of your orgasm still gently rippling through you even as Toji pulls his fingers out of you. You look up at the man as he adjusts himself with his other hand, as if in a haze – and as if in a haze, when he roughly pushes those three fingers back into your mouth, you suckle on them with your mind and thoughts all misty. All you can think about is him. That’s what he wanted, anyway – cute little demure virgin, cock drunk even without him fucking you properly – he breaks girls like you on the regular, but you might be one of his favourites.

He tugs down his pants enough to reveal his flushed cock, curving to lay against his stomach, hard and leaking precome from a reddened tip. Your eyes widen (he always loves that moment), as you realise why he took pains to prepare you with his fingers.

“Whaddya think?” He asks you, teasing, wrapping his fist around the shaft. Even his big hands around it do nothing to make it look smaller, and you barely realise that you’re staring until he slaps your thighs with it, streaking his own wetness all over you. “You’ll give a man a complex, sweetheart--”

“I-I don’t have much to compare it to,” you say, desperately, heated and needy even though you literally just came. You want him inside you. You never thought you’d be so easily broken down into wanting to be fucked, but here you are – something primal inside of you is awoken by the size of his cock and the glitter in his eyes and the sculpted muscle, and you want to be desecrated. “Y-you look big--”

He laughs at that. Yeah, you definitely don’t have much to compare it to if that’s your take-away. Still. It’s cute, how you’ve spread your legs a little wider, how you’re not hiding the fact you’re looking at him like he’s some kind of angel who’s finally granted you a taste of the celestial city.

“I feel big too,” he tells you, with a smirk that rattles you to your core. “Wanna find out?”

When you nod, he grins – those big hands take a hold of your thighs, pressing both of your knees to your chest this time. He takes a moment to enjoy you in this position – those wide eyes, the lewd splay of your legs revealing the glimpse of your cunt still tantalisingly shining with the remnants of your orgasm. You squirm under his hungry gaze, exposed – and that does nothing to quell the hunger that seems to be thrumming through Toji, with every clench and wriggle.

“Good,” he tells you, rubbing his cock through the mess you’ve made of yourself, making sure the head nudges your clit and he can see the way you shiver. “You’re bein’ such a good girl for me--”

He catches on your entrance and you let out a keen. With your knees pressed to your chest, you’re unable to get a grip on Toji’s shoulders, and you have to console yourself with fisting the bedsheets beneath you (rumpled even before you’d ended up there).

The position he’s got you in means that you feel every ridge of his cock, every vein, every throb – inch by inch, as he sheaths himself slowly inside you. He can’t help but watch as your jaw goes slack, as your eyes cloud with the feeling of him entering you – as tears bead in the corner of your eyes at the burn and stretch--

Oh, fuck, the tears. He wonders if you feel the way that his cock seems to harden at that, at how pretty you look all glassy-eyed and helpless and trying to take him. He’s maybe two thirds in and almost at the limit of forward motion, but you whimper, letting your head fall back--

“P-please,” you say, “I—I can take it--”

He laughs, low and dangerous. He leans in, brushes his lips over your sweat slicked forehead. His tone is syrupy sweet when he speaks, as he angles his hips just so that he sinks another aching inch into the sweet kiss of your tight cunt.

“Oh, I know you will, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sounding almost like a threat. His eyes flash downwards, to see how tightly you’re clinging to him – how big his cock looks, disappearing into your slick sex. How the glistening ring of your need coats him. Just a bit further – watching himself claim you is almost hypnotic.

He wants to see you on your hands and knees, watch his cock stretch you out that way. He wants to see you gag and choke and drool around his cock, wants to see your small hands wrap around him, wants to have you in every position until you’re so fucked silly you can barely move--

But for now, he hilts inside of you, his balls slapping against your slick skin. His face splits into a smile as his eyes travel back up, to the bulge in your stomach that he knows is from just how big his cock is, to your thighs trembling even with him keeping them prone against you. You’re so cute. The tears have spilled past the rim of your eyelids now, wetting your cheeks – they’re so maddeningly sexy, on your pretty face. He’s not going to last half as long as he wants to, he doesn’t think – not when you’ve been driving him to distraction since the moment he laid eyes on you.

He can barely remember he killed a man less than an hour ago.

That’s old news, unimportant compared to how your walls flutter around him as he pulls out. Unimportant compared to the arch of your back, the rock of your breasts, the great gasps of air.

He’s not a kind man, but he doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole to his conquests – so he lets you get used to the rolling rhythm of his hips, slowly. He doesn’t piston his hips in and out of you, not at first. He lets the slow drag of his cock on your sensitive inner walls make you shiver, make you gasp and moan and whimper. And only after he’s earned the light hump of your hips against his, searching for the sensation yourself, does he let himself fuck you the way he wants to.

He wants to record the moan-squeak-whimper of surprise as he begins to pump his hips in earnest. It’s a noise he’s heard before, but coming from your pretty mouth it seems all the more potent. His hips jerk into you and out of you, the noise of skin slapping against skin very loud in the bedroom. The slick noises of his cock driving in and out of your tight cunt would be shaming if it didn’t feel so good, if you didn’t get a shock of want every time his body ground against your clit on the inner thrust.

You lose track of time, with the dangerous man you met at the bar bent over you. He mouths greedily at your lips, seeming to treasure every noise you make and swallow it down his throat like a sweet candy – he bites at your neck, at your throat, the grip on your thighs never faltering for a moment. You can do nothing but let yourself be folded in half, and let him fuck you like an animal.

That seems right. He’s rutting into you deep and hungrily, almost feral in his enjoyment of your body. He drops one of your legs suddenly, letting it hit the mattress, readjusting his hips so that one of his hands can dive between you and--

He’s playing with your clit again. The pads of his fingers are rough, and you wonder if he handles a gun like the one that gave him that starburst scar. You wonder how dangerous these fingers are, the ones that were buried inside you and are now coaxing your poor, swollen clit to another orgasm.

“Come on, baby girl,” he growls, pressing harder, making your thighs jump with tension. “Wanna feel you come with my cock buried in that pretty little cunt--”

You whimper, throwing your head to the side and letting a cry out into the pillow like a mewl. Toji would be mad that you’d stifled the cute little noise, if the sight of you submissively showing him your neck (one of your softest parts) hadn’t scratched an itch for dominance inside of him – and if the feel of your body clenching and pulsating around his cock wasn’t currently finally pushing him over the edge, making him judder his hips against you as he shoots rope after rope of his come directly inside of you.

Your shoulders are heaving with the effort of the orgasm that’s still ricocheting through you, your toes curling, your body clenching and soaking Toji’s cock with your orgasm. You don’t even realise he’s come inside of you until he pulls out slightly and you wince at the feel of that same come, his load far too thick and full to not have a bit of it trickling out of your stretched hole. Toji admires the look of it; darkened from his persistent thrusts, your syrupy slick mixing with the thick pearly white of his seed.

“Y-you came inside me,” you say, your voice half-clogged with the tears that are still glistening on your cheeks (a low pulse of heat in his groin. His refractory period has always been short – and with a cute little thing like you in his bed, who can blame him for wanting to fuck you again almost immediately?). “I—I don’t even know your name--”

Oh, shit. He’d quite forgotten. He knows yours from the girl in the bar (that already feels like a lifetime ago). He can hear the uncertainty in your voice, the kind of confusion that seems to say ‘good girls don’t do this, I would never do this, who is this stranger wearing my skin with a man’s come making their thighs sticky?’. It’s part of the process of breaking that Toji loves so much.)

“Sure did, darlin’,” he says, absent-mindedly scooping some of the come that’s oozed out of you and pressing it back inside. He wins a whimper for that, one that’s definitely not ‘stop’. “You’re still so sensitive.”

If you notice he doesn’t give you his name in response to your question, you don’t say anything. As his fingers gently circle your entrance again, as his hand brushes your thigh and you shiver, he sees that you unconsciously spread your legs even further apart for his explorations. Oh, you’re so cute.

One lone finger, gently grazing your clit, makes your hips jerk, your voice break in a way that’s all needy. You look at Toji through those tear-darkened eyes, your lips bitten to puffiness, your lipstick and mascara and eyeliner all messed up on your face from crying and biting your lip and drooling. Adorable. Girls like you always look best like this, their polish scuffed when Toji’s taken them to bed and stripped away all of their defences.

Girls like you, Toji always manages to get to move their hips against his ministrations. He always manages to have them gasp, whimper, break--

You’re not the first one in his bed, and you probably won’t be the last. But as he grins at you and asks;

“Well, sweetheart. I’ll give you a choice. Y’wanna take a shower and I’ll call you a cab or somethin’ and you can head off home? Or,” he drops his voice low, drags his eyes over your prone form, brushes his lips over your stomach. They flutter against the soft skin, his breath a hot wash that makes goose flesh prickle all over you. “Y’wanna spend the night?”

And you bite your lip before nodding, nervously running your hand through his hair, your body near trembling with need--

Well. As he asks that and you answer, he really does think you might be his favourite one ever.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #not sfw #writing #jjk writing #jjk posting #Anonymous

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glilboy · 3 years

Text

ATEEZ Reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Maknae Line

i tried so hard to finish this afterworo and before bed lol. the first part did, so well? im genuinely shocked ill be honest. hope this one is just as good.

requests are open btw!!

tws below the cut

Warning! This work of fiction contains mentions of quirofilia, strength kink, dom/sub dynamics implications and general explicit topics

San:

"Baby just let me play it I just want to get us to the same level," San whined at you about a game you both played. He practically coaxed you into playing but now you genuinely enjoyed it, being hesitent to let him get you farther.

"I want to experience it myself though Sannie," you pouted back at him leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I just want to do the things you've been avoiding! It'll give you enough experience to be the same level, please," his voice became higher pitched which was your call to just let him do it.

"Whatever," you said in a fake angry voice, instantly giggling, "you do that, I'm gonna go grab a snack." You hopped up and off the bed, leaving your phone for him to mess with.

Picking up your phone, happy he got his way, he went to open the app but one was already open.

Humming he read a bit and when he read his name he twitched a little. So this was what you liked. San made you extremely nervous which caused you to be a bit hesitant to share what you liked in bed. You planned to tell him one day but he hurried that process up.

Hearing you coming back he quickly opened the right app even though he now had no actual intention to progress you.

"I am back!" you smiled plopping down with some cut fruit.

"No shit," he mused causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. His brain itching to do something now, an idea popped in seeing you eat the fruit.

Taking a piece of strawberry he held it up to your lips, you unknowingly smiled and took the fruit into your mouth. His breathing accelerated. Waiting a few minutes before he took another piece, he at first popped a piece into his mouth then grabbing another to hold it up again. You took the piece but a muffled sound of surprise came out with it when san shoved his fingers inside a bit.

Looking at him wide eyed and confused you met his which looked at you intensely. You didn't even have a chance to stop yourself before you started to suck his fingers.

"Fuck," he mumbled his gaze going a bit hazy at seeing you like this.

After sucking on his fingers for a moment you let go with a pop.

"You should really let me read more of those stories Y/N," him saying that is what made it all hit.

"Wait- oh shit," you mumbled before he took your jaw in one of his hands squishing your mouth open. The other holding another piece and pressing it to your tongue.

"I would've known sooner just how pretty you think my hands are dear."

Mingi:

Mingi could feel his face turn red, not suspecting is seemingly soft tasted girlfriend to read stuff like this. He was just trying to help! You were busy cooking dinner and asked him to send a text back to your friend, forgetting what you were last doing.

He gulped and set down your phone once sending the message. He wanted to talk about it but he had no clue how to bring it up. Once seated eating dinner you could feel the energy was off since earlier he was in such a great mood. You chose to ask about it after the meal not wanting to have an awkward dinner.

Washing the dishes you didn't feel Mingi approach from behind until he wrapped his hands around your waist.

"Hm? What's up baby?" You hummed softly with a smile.

"Can you do the dishes later...I need to talk to you about something," He set his chin on your shoulder and you could just hear a slight pout in his voice.

Drying off your hands you turned around to look at him, "what's up Mingi?"

He leaned up and took a deep breathe making you a bit worried.

"I- um fuck- Y/N I saw whats on your phone," he hesitated before just ripping off the bandaid.

Your face instantly dropped mumbling a small "ah fuck"

You stayed silent with his hands sitting on your waist. You looked at him before speaking, "Gi, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about how you feel about seeing it? I'm sure you're pissed."

He tilted his head questioningly at the end, "What no- I mean, like yeah it could be weird but you're reading about me so I don't see an issue, at least as of now."

You we're now pretty puzzled, a bit tongue tied. If you remembered right, the work you had been reading was well pretty aggressive so you were sure Mingi would be weirded out. He was a soft guy and you guys experimented occasionally but nothing that far.

Being able to tell you got in your head he spoke again, "I liked it. I...liked it Y/N."

Looking back at him, his hands tightened on your waist and he moved closer so your lips brushed each others.

"Please- Fuck, can we try it?"

wooyoung:

"Y/N! Can I use your phone for a second?" Wooyoung whined laying on the bed while you we're folding laundry. He wanted attention but you had chores to do.

"Why?" You looked at him weird, knowing he was up to something.

"You'll see," he smiled, just wanting to take selfies on your phone but opened it to a book of sorts.

Curiosity got the best of him as he skimmed the page, a faint blush creeping up his neck. You guys had done a lot but something in him was set off, a smile creeping up his lips.

"Pervert," He spoke deadpanned up at you making you frown before it clicked.

"Wooyoung."

"Y/N."

A moment passed before suddenly he popped up, grabbing your hair and forcing your face into the bed. A giggle sounded from behind you as he leaned down to talk into your ear, "You read stuff like that? You're that horny for just me that you read that kind of shit? Lord your fucking head over heels for me."

"Shut the fuck up-" Your voice got cut off as he lifted you up by your hair, a hand wrapping around your throat making your mind flutter.

"Say that one more time and I'll fuck your face until you pass out like that little book dear."

Jongho:

It was supposed to be a night filled with movies, snacks, giggles and cuddles but your bladder decided to change the trajectory of the night. Excusing yourself to the bathroom you left your phone on the table faced up, not remembering that you left your tumblr notifications on around someone. The phone pinged three times in a row, making Jongho curious to which he glanced over at it.

'c. j 10:15

strength kink'

"What," he said outloud.

Clicking on the notification he began to read the work, blushing at it and embarrassed that he..liked it. Licking his lips he looked around a bit flustered.

When he heard the bathroom door shut he quickly set your phone back down, trying to not awkwardly sit there. You came back like nothing was wrong, cuddling into his side continuing to watch the film.

This is where a few days passed, each day driving Jongho more and more up the wall. Hiding in the bathroom at the studio just to get off without the chance of being caught, at least by you. Scenarios spinning in his head constantly making him want to do anything and everything at once.

When he got home that day you weren't there, his need skyrocketing to the moon. He quickly made it to your bed room and moved to the bed taking off his shirt in the process. He searched around frantically for anything of yours, spotting a t-shirt a few feet away. He pulled down his sweats letting his member spring free, bringing the shirt up to his face to inhale your scent and began to jerk off.

You on the other hand just had your friend drop you off, you jumping up the stairs excited to bring home some pastries to your boyfriend. Coming inside you quickly slipped off your shoes and looked around for him. Seeing he wasn't in the living room you headed towards your bedroom asumming he was there. Opening the door to a sight to see, Jongho jerking himself off while smelling your shirt.

You stood there silent until he opened his eyes, him now being in such a deep mindspace he didn't even seem phased. Slipping his pants back up he waltzed over to you and stood there staring at you.

"I've been going fucking insane, Y/N," he spoke getting closer, shutting the door behind you.

"What do you mean baby?" You asked softly at him. He smiled a bit and lifted a hand to your shoulder making you inhale.

"Your little fucking stories Y/N."

You looked at him wide eyed, thinking you might know which one he saw. "Jo- Fuck I'm sorry, oh god," you began to frantically apologize.

That was when he picked you up and held you up against the wall with one arm, the other hand sitting lazily around your neck.

"No. No. You've been driving me crazy in a good way. Now let me fuck you against this wall unless you want me cumming in your t-shirt."

#ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #choi san smut #san smut #song mingi smut #mingi smut #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung smut #choi jongho smut #jongho smut

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Beach Day.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: White clothing gets transparent in water... poor Y/N doesn't know that.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This is kinda crack fic + fluff lmao ok enjoy!

---

Ah, what a perfect day to be on a beach.

Bucky smiled softly as he sipped on his beer, the sunshine and the sound of flowing water doing wonders for his mood. The Avengers had taken a mini-vacation of sorts, opting to spend a weekend by the seaside. A trip sponsored by Tony Stark. It was a shame Natasha and Wanda couldn't join in, they had a mission to go to. Y/N was the most upset.

"Don't leave me with so much testosterone, I will die," she had whined at the time which made everyone laugh. Currently, he was sitting on a beach lounge chair alongside Steve, Sam, Tony, Thor, Loki and Clint. Y/N was inside still, changing, he guessed. "Guys!" At the feminine voice, he turned and nearly choked on his drink. "Whoa."

"Looking good, Y/L/N," Tony whistled shamelessly and Y/N blushed, the colour spreading down her body. She was dressed in a white bikini that she had purchased for the trip; it looked really good on her. "Thank you, Stark," she quipped back before heading towards the waters. Bucky blinked. Surely she wasn't going into the water wearing that…

"Y/N?"

She turned. "What?" Sam and Clint shared looks. "You going for a swim?" Sam asked and she nodded, a bright smile lifting her face. "It's been ages since I last swam!" Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Are you sure you want to swim wearing that?" he groaned tiredly, causing Y/N to blink. "It's… a bikini, Tony, that's the whole point," she spoke slowly.

The 7 men glanced at each other. "Okay, then, you do you," Tony spoke and she left, stepping into the water. "If you don't date her I will, Barnes, consider this a warning," Clint breathed out once she was out of earshot. "You are married, Barton," Bucky rolled his eyes. "That's why I said it is a warning," Clint snapped back.

"I— I don't know how to ask her," Bucky admitted, playing with the bottle of beer in his hands. "Just ask her! What's the worst that could happen? Knowing Y/N— what a sweet little angel— she'll probably lay you down gently." Bucky groaned as Steve clamped a hand over Tony's mouth, shutting him. "Stop making it worse!" Tony pushed the hand away.

"Do you really think she's going to reject me?" All of them turned to Y/N, who hadn't strayed far from the group. She was alone, flinging the water here and there, laughing to herself. That warmed their hearts, Y/N was really sunshine in a bottle. "Any girl would be a fool," Sam hyped him, raising a bottle in mock toast. Bucky gave him a half-smile.

All of a sudden, they heard a squeal coming from Y/N. Their heads whipped towards her and saw her talking to some guy. Well, more like him trying to ask her out while she said no. Apparently, he wasn't listening. "Hey, asshole! Away from her!" Tony yelled obnoxiously and Bucky winced when the two people looked over. Great, she's gonna be mad at us for creating a scene.

The guy, recognizing the Avengers, fled. Y/N turned to Tony. "Thanks!" she called out before continuing her shenanigans. "The nerve of some people," Steve huffed, Loki and Thor nodding in agreement. Bucky, meanwhile, continued staring at her, shocked. She wasn't mad? Oh well, that's… nice. Suddenly, she looked up, right at him.

Freezing for a second, he managed an awkward smile and waved at her. She waved back before waving her arm, asking him to join her in the water. He gently shook his head and pointed to his arm, smiling sheepishly. Understanding his shyness, Y/N nodded and grinned at him before she started with her first lap of swimming.

"You should've gone."

"Shut up."

As Y/N swam around in the cool waters, she thought back to her conversation with the guys. Why were they so reluctant to let her swim? And whatever did Tony mean by wearing that? It was a nice bikini; a bit skimpy, sure, but it looked nice on her. So what was his problem? Shaking her head, she instead thought about Bucky. Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, the man she wanted to go on a date with…

He had many names. Y/N had had a crush on Bucky ever since she joined the Avengers, not knowing that Bucky reflected her feelings. After a few laps, Y/N decided the water was getting too cold and she needed to step out. So she started walking towards the beach again, the water level going from her chest, to her stomach, to her hips and eventually her ankles as her feet hit dry sand.

"Y/N!"

At the loud and sharp yell she froze, her eyes darting to where her friends were seated, paralyzed. They were all staring at her with mostly the same expressions; eyes wide with mortification, jaws dropped. Then she saw Steve running towards her. She blinked at him as he wrapped a towel around her, easily picking up the Y/N burrito and walking towards the others.

"Y/N, what the fuck was that?"

Steve set her down on her feet. "What did I do?" she asked meekly, moving to drop the towel but 7 voices shouted out in unison, "No!" She pulled the towel on tighter and shook her head, going inside her room. Bucky breathed out a sigh, quickly moving to hide his boner with the bottle of beer he was holding. "She is literally so—"

"Does she not know that—"

"She probably doesn't—"

That white clothes get transparent in water.

When she had stepped out of the water, her bikini was clinging to her body but what caught his, or rather everyone's attention was that her nipples were completely on display, the perked buds clear as day through the top. No wonder all of them reacted the way they did. They stared at each other, the silence getting uncomfortable.

"Oh, man…" Tony whistled finally, running a hand through his hair. "Think about something else," Steve suggested but try as he might, he couldn't get the image of her body out of his mind. Soon, conversation started floating between them again but Bucky kept quiet, staring at the sea, lost in thoughts. "Hey guys, have you seen my fanny pack anywhere?"

Bucky looked up and saw her standing there with her hands on her hips, looking at them with an innocent expression on her face. Her towel was long gone, she was still in the bikini and God, it's still wet, look away Bucky, look away— "Y/N, what the hell, go inside! We'll find it later, just— just go inside," Clint chided and she frowned but stormed off.

Bucky, not being able to bear the look on her face, followed her. The rest of them shrugged and decided not to disturb the two for a few hours. Bucky knocked on the door to her room and, finding out it was open, nudged it apart. He peeked into the room to make sure she was not changing and found her sitting on the bed. "Y/N?" She sniffled and he walked inside, closing the door behind him.

"Y/N, don't cry, come on…"

She was still in that stupid bikini. Noticing the towel from earlier draped over the back of a chair, he picked it up and walked to her, putting it around her. "Why are they being rude?" she whispered and Bucky sighed, putting an arm around her. He gently squeezed. "They were not being rude, they were being overprotective." She didn't look convinced.

"Do I not look good?" He sighed again. "You do look good, it's just… Y/N, you really don't know, do you?" She blinked at him, confused. "What do I not know?" He went pink. "White— white clothing becomes transparent in water and, uh— uh… your, um… nipples were… uhm… very visible through the top," he stammered and a look of understanding crossed her face.

Then she blushed furiously. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't know—" He shook his head. "It's fine. Maybe just wear a t-shirt before coming out again, okay?" She nodded before grabbing a random t-shirt off the bed; all the guys, before going out to the beach, had left a t-shirt each in Y/N's room, hoping for a quick change since her room was the closest.

Thinking it was her t-shirt, she stood up and dropped the towel. The t-shirt went down to her knees and her head tilted to the side; when did her shirt become so long? When she glanced at Bucky, he was smiling at her, amusement shining in his eyes. "What?" she asked as one of the sleeves dropped to her elbow, the neckline plunging in that direction.

One bikini strap showed on the shoulder. "You look good in my t-shirt, doll." A deep blush spread across her face. She moved to take it off but he stopped her. "Keep it on, it looks good on you. Hell, keep it forever." His words… "Buck, you need this—" "Trust me, I don't. How about this, when we go home, you raid my wardrobe because holy hell, my stuff looks good on you."

Y/N flushed deeper. Why was he acting all flirtatious all of a sudden? "I'm not raiding your whole wardrobe, Bucky." He frowned momentarily. "I thought girlfriends raided their boyfriends' wardrobes all the time." Her eyes snapped up and met his; he held a confident smirk on his face this time. "Wait… Barnes, are you asking me out?" He nodded and she squealed.

"Yes!" She rushed forward and jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. He did not hesitate to kiss her, his hands landing on her butt as he caressed the soft flesh. Y/N's hands ended up in his hair, combing through the long locks. "I do have some rules, baby," he whispered as he led her to the bed, setting her down. He climbed on top of her and smirked again.

"What?"

"Number one: I'm throwing that fucking bikini away."

"Buck, why?!"

"No white bikinis allowed because I don't want people staring at what's mine."

"Ugh, deal."

"Good. Now, where was I? Oh yes… you and I are gonna have some fun before we go out now, okay? Be quiet for me…"

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}

summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)

this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!

- jazz

They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.

And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.

There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.

Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.

At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.

What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.

‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.

‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’

‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’

‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.

Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.

He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.

(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)

‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.

‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’

‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’

‘- but you are not bulletproof!’

‘Neither are you!’

‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’

‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’

The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.

‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’

‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’

Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.

‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’

‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’

You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’

‘Y/N.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.

‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’

‘- that’s not what this is about.’

‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’

‘It’s not about anything.’

‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’

‘It’s because I love you!’

‘Well, I love you too!’

‘Great!’

‘Fine!’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’

‘Me too!’

‘We should probably stop shouting!’

‘Good idea!’

You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.

You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.

‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.

‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’

‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.

‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars imagines

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kindahoping4forever · 2 years

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Threw Out Our Cloaks & Daggers Because It's Morning Now // Ashton Irwin

The bulk of this fic was a WIP I'd been sitting on for months because while I loved the idea, it just never felt Right. I've also been working on a particular arc for Gardener!Ash for most of this year but had been struggling to figure out how to get there. During the impromptu hiatus from writing I took this month, I realized this idea could add the type of color and depth to the Gardener!Ash series that I'd been needing to set up my arc and everything fell into place from there! As always, @cal-puddies is my hero and MVP.

Warnings: Moderate angst comes to the land of Domestic Thirst. No spoilers but obviously there's some sort of resolution because there's also dirty talk, unprotected sex in an established relationship, a handful of uses of the word 'Daddy', brief oral sex performed on a male and cum play.

Word Count: 5755

Gardener!Ash Masterlist

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and 2021 Taglist linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

You were only gone for one night but you can't believe how good it feels to sleep in your own bed again, to feel the warmth of your boyfriend next to you. Morning comes and you roll over to see him still sleeping soundly at your side and a rush of emotions overwhelm you. Things have been so crazy recently, you can’t remember the last time you had the privilege of waking him up. You’ll never take it for granted again.

You gingerly trace over the condor on the back of his neck, rubbing your thumb over the nail imprints you left around the wings, when you feel him start to stir. “Morning, baby,” he croaks, voice heavy with sleep, worn from staying up and talking things through with you.

“Hiya,” you answer sweetly, brushing his hair off his face. “Sleep alright?”

“Better than I did without you beside me," he admits, leaning into your touch. "Let's not do that again, k?"

2 Days Earlier...

“Missed you this morning.”

Your smile wavers a bit as a sense of deja vu hits you and you realize just how often you’ve been greeting your boyfriend with that phrase but you make an effort to recover as he approaches the patio, tossing his gardening gloves on the table as he opens his arms to you.

Ashton presses a kiss to your lips before replying, “Keep tellin’ ya, gotta get up with me one of these days and try some yoga up on the roof. Nothin’ like it, starting the morning off feeling grateful and appreciating all the natural beauty the morning sun has to offer.”

“Well, I’m sure the sun is lovely but I miss appreciating the natural beauty of the full moon I used to see when you’d stay in bed with me until my alarm went off,” you smirk, grabbing a handful of his ass.

He giggles but you detect a hint of sadness in his eyes just before he pulls you into an embrace. “Might be able to arrange one of those for you sometime too,” he jokes.

You burrow silently into his chest and he pecks at your forehead before removing his straw gardening hat and plopping it on your head as he ducks inside the house with a cackle.

You lovingly shake your head at his antics as you walk to the edge of the patio, looking out to see what he’s been working on. Typically the thought of Ash toiling away in his garden would make your heart skip a beat but he’s been spending a lot of time out here in recent weeks. By the time you wake up in the mornings, he’s already out starting a new project and he’s almost always still out there when you’ve finished with your work for the day. With the band coming out of their hiatus and taking up more of his time, you know it’s important for him to have something that’s just his that he can unwind with but you miss him all the same, miss the days when you alone could be that distraction for him.

Ashton reemerges from the house, glass of ice water in hand, and sits in the lounge chair by the door.

You walk over, interested. “You done for the day, handsome? I was thinking about going for a walk if you’d like to join me.”

“Aww, that sounds nice, baby, but I’ve actually got to jump on a management call with the guys in a few,” he explains, downing his water in one long gulp. “Why don’t we have a nice dinner together, though? Let’s order something good and catch up.”

You murmur your agreement and kiss his cheek before returning his hat to his head. Your walk is a bit longer than you intended but it felt nice to relax your mind and stretch your legs after a long day of being inside working. The sky is nearing dusk by the time you get home and you’re surprised to return to a dark house. You check Ash’s usual haunts - the garden, the basement studio, the kitchen - before you eventually find him in the bedroom, face down asleep on the bed with all the lights off.

You smile wistfully at the sight. He’s been running himself ragged between the band, helping friends with their projects and working on his own. This isn’t the first time you’ve found him like this, his mind reasoning he’ll just “rest his eyes” for a few minutes only for his body to insist that he nap for much longer. You sigh, kick off your shoes and curl up beside him. It’s not exactly the reconnecting evening you were hoping for but at this point, any time spent next to Ashton is a gift you’re more than happy to receive.

The next thing you know, your face is being peppered with kisses and a gentle but firm touch is shaking your arm.

“Baby?” He says softly, smiling sheepishly at you as your eyes flutter open. “You could’ve woken me up, love, I didn’t mean to knock out like that.”

You hum, leaning into him, eyes adjusting to the bedside light he turned on. “If you need it, you need it, dude… it’s not like I see you sleep much these days anyways,” you point out, stroking his stubbly cheek. He'd recently decided to shave his beard and let it regrow and you always forget how much younger he looks without it. “Been meaning to talk to you about that, honestly.”

“Yeah… my head’s kind of all over the place right now so sleep has been… fitful, I guess,” he admits, eyes failing to meet yours. He doesn’t offer more of an explanation and you can tell right now isn’t the time to press the issue. “Sorry I fucked up our dinner.”

You shrug. “No big. Too late to just order a pizza?”

He smiles warmly at you, relieved at your understanding. “Think that one we like on Ventura should still be open.”

“Let’s do that please,” you say with a yawn, which he attempts to muffle with a sweet peck to your lips before reaching for his phone on the nightstand. You watch him place your order and wrap your arms around as much of him as you can reach when he’s done. You quietly offer, “You know if you ever wanna talk about anything that’s going on, I’m here. Doesn’t matter what time of night.”

You feel Ashton relax into your embrace, giving a long and cleansing exhale. “I know, baby… love you,” he breathes. You’re surprised but happy to have him stay resting in your arms until the doorbell rings to announce your dinner.

On a whim, you go back into the bedroom with the pizza and eating in bed proves to be the right choice; the two of you make easy and light conversation as you eat, sitting cross-legged next to each other, smiling like goofy teenagers everytime your bare knees touch.

You’re pretty sure he sleeps through the night for once and you notice him lying closer to you than usual. He typically keeps to his side of the bed but tonight he alternates wrapping himself around you with sleeping on his side right next to you, a hand on your stomach or thigh if he can reach. You find it curious but sweet and enjoy it for what it is.

You can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you wake up alone again; the morning air feels extra cold after being surrounded by Ashton’s warmth all night. You peek out the window and sure enough, he’s already in the garden. You shrug because what else can you do and you head off to start getting ready for your day.

You don’t see him again until after your work day is over and you pad into the kitchen to rinse out the mug you’ve been using all day. You weren’t even sure he was home at first, the house is so quiet and he almost always has music playing in the background. Your heart leaps when you see him showered and out of his gardening clothes, sitting with his computer at the kitchen island but your excitement quickly fades when you notice how stressed he looks as his fingers fly across the keyboard, an email reply on one side of the screen, some sort of calendar on the other.

You chew your lip, torn between wanting to ask him what’s wrong and wanting to wait for him to come to you about it. The problem is you feel like you’ve been waiting for that moment for weeks now and it’s becoming clear Ash either doesn’t want your help or doesn’t know how to ask for it. You’ve both always been careful not to overstep in each other’s personal business; you love the idea that you’re partners but ultimately two separate people living independent lives that you choose to share with each other. With Ashton not having toured for so long now, your lives have blurred together in ways they never really had before and you’re starting to realize it’s not so easy to just go back to the way things used to be.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t notice that he’s stood at the sink next to you until he reaches over and sets his own mug under the tap.

“The invite said ‘cocktail casual’ but I think maybe you’ve taken the idea a little too literally,” he cracks, eyeing the band hoodie and sweatpants you’re sporting. You purse your lips at him as you try to understand the joke, unsure if you’re confused because you weren’t paying attention just now or if you’re missing something else. Another beat passes without your response, so he addresses you again, still playful but with a slight edge to his voice this time. “Seriously, love, if you’re gonna shower, we need you in there ASAP, Cal’s gonna be here in like 40 minutes and we both know it’s gonna take you at least that to get dressed.”

You furrow your brow, now entirely confident your boyfriend has wildly different plans for your evening than you expected. You turn to him with narrow eyes and say, “Babe, I mean this with all the love in my heart but I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Ash gives you a 'yeah right' smirk and when you continue to stare at him blankly, a mixture of alarm and annoyance washes over his face. "The dinner party we're going to?" Your expression remains unchanged. He presses on, "The people from the new label?"

You shrug apologetically, "I know nothing about this."

"We one hundred percent talked about it."

"When?"

"Recently," he insists, jaw tensing more with every syllable.

You shake your head emphatically. "It's OK if you forgot to tell me, Ash."

He scoffs, running his hand over his face like he always does when he's getting agitated. "Well it's OK if you forgot that I told you."

You roll your eyes. "Like I don't have a distinct memory of every conversation we've had the past few weeks, they happen so infrequently," you mutter.

Your eyes dart up to meet his as soon as the words leave your mouth, much more bitter than you imagined they'd sound. His expression changes rapidly, shuffling through surprise, hurt, anger, confusion and finally landing on incredulous exasperation. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You wince at his tone, the sharp one you’re used to him using with invasive journalists or the occasional tense moment with a bandmate, one he’s only directed at you a handful of times over the course of your relationship. The two of you love talking with each other so when an issue arises, it’s only natural that you discuss it rather than squabble. Arguments are rare but when they do happen… boy, do they.

The frustration that’s been brewing between you finally spills over into petty bickering which inevitably leads to some regrettably mean barbs and before you know it, you’re storming out the door, smart enough to get away before you say something you can’t take back. You’re proud that you make it down the street before the first tear spills down your cheek, that you manage to make it to your best friend’s house without pulling over to call and apologize.

Ashton is as stubborn as you are so you’re not surprised when you don’t hear from him that evening. As you lay on your friend’s couch, trying to remember how to sleep without Ash’s body acting as a space heater next to you, you replay the day’s events in your mind. Something like this was bound to happen sometime, the way you’d both been carrying on like your circumstances hadn’t changed was naive and unsustainable. But now that you’re hours removed from it, you’re not even sure how the fight started or what it was really about anymore. You’re just sure that you miss him and not just being beside you tonight, you miss the way he was, the way you were a few months ago before real life started creeping in again.

You’re not angry, just frustrated and more than a little sad. As your body finally gives into the exhaustion and you drift off to sleep, your pride chimes in and you decide to wait him out, let him apologize first, let him make an effort to give you the attention you’ve been craving. But when you wake up a few hours later with no cheerful whistling coming from the shower, no coffee smells coming from the kitchen, no scratchy stubble on your face and neck, coaxing you out of bed, it only takes a few moments for your resolve to crack. You look around the unfamiliar, empty room and become suddenly, painfully aware that this isn’t where you belong, even temporarily.

You get dressed and hide your phone in a drawer because you know if you don’t, you’ll be obsessively checking it every two minutes to see if he’s messaged you. You set up your laptop and try to power through your work for the day. You allow yourself a peek at lunchtime and you feel your entire body immediately warm when you see his name in your notifications. You click on the text and smile at the sight of a single bouquet emoji, his go-to when he’s testing the waters for an apology, an olive branch of sorts. You text him back a simple heart and hide your phone away again, eager to finish up your work so you can get home and apologize properly.

This Morning...

“Well, I can’t promise no more fighting but I can predict that’s the last time I storm out like that… that was the first night I’ve slept alone since I moved in… can’t say that I missed it,” you smile wistfully, fingers scratching at his scruffy cheek.

“Yeah… when I came home to the empty house and it started to sink in that you probably weren’t coming home… I can’t remember the last time I felt so unsettled,” Ashton recalls somberly, grabbing your hand to kiss before interlacing his fingers with yours.

The pangs of guilt and regret you feel match the hints you detect swimming in his eyes as he softly gazes at you. You lean in to him and as your lips slowly move against each other, you feel the mood of the room lighten. You smile and coo, "Tell you what, though, if you want to pretend-fight every now and again for the sake of making up, I'm down for that."

He grins, running a hand up and down your side. "For a couple who doesn’t fight often, we are remarkably good at that part, aren’t we?"

"Mmm… I’ll say. You really forgave the shit outta me, babe.”

Ash has always been better with words than you are but you’ve learned that the ways you express yourselves after the apologies are just as important as the sorries themselves. And as you admire the red scratches up and down his back, the way his light brown curls, still wild and tangled from your fingers, pour onto his pillow to reveal the subtle bite marks decorating his neck… you conclude you definitely got your point across.

He laughs, sliding his hand under the hem of your t-shirt, letting his fingers trace over your bare skin before bringing you closer. “Took my apology so well… so generous,” he teases suggestively, the kiss he pulls you into noticeably more passionate than the last. “Y’know, now that I’ve had time to sleep on it, think there’s a couple more things I’m feeling sorry about.”

“Glad to hear you say that because I've suddenly got the strongest urge to hold you accountable,” you smirk, reaching down to squeeze the bulge that’s been noticeably growing in his boxers.

Ash chuckles naughtily against your lips as the two of you share another heated kiss. You let out a slight squeal as he easily swings your leg over his body and pulls you to lay on top of him. His kisses are hungry but his hands are slow and unhurried as they move over your body, from running through your hair to dipping under your shirt, dancing over your back before settling on your ass, squeezing and massaging your cheeks over your panties.

“Missed you,” he says quietly against your lips and you smile into the kiss, knowing he’s referring to more than just the night you spent away.

You lean over and tongue around his earring before attaching your lips to the spot just underneath his ear that always makes him moan, sucking what’s bound to be a large mark on his skin. “All mine,” you softly declare, rolling your hips over his, relishing the feeling of his hardness underneath you.

He groans at your words, sliding his fingers under the leg of your underwear to run along your folds. “All yours?” He teases, swirling your wetness around, ghosting over your clit. “Think you’re mine, baby. Who’s all this for? Huh? Got you soaking wet first thing in the morning?” He teases a finger against your entrance but never quite pushes in.

“Y- you, Ash,” you murmur, trying your best to move your hips at the right angle that’ll catch you some friction from his fingers but to no avail.

“Goddamn right, baby,” he growls, rewarding you by rubbing a few slow circles around your clit. “Pussy’s all mine. Missed it while you were gone.” He sinks a finger inside you, then a second one. He maintains eye contact as he rocks you slowly against them until he decides you’re done. As soon as he withdraws them, you grab his wrist and lift his fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean.

Without missing a beat, Ashton brings you back up to his lips, moaning as he tastes your essence on your own tongue. You pull back, resting your forehead on his, panting, “And what about this?” You pull his cock out of his boxers, stroking slowly as you lilt, “Missed this thick cock while I was gone… missed me so much, last night wasn’t enough... already so hard, leaking so much.” You thumb over his slit, dabbing at the precum beading there and you both watch as a long, sticky string of it follows nearly all the way to your mouth when you lift your finger to taste.

“Fuck, baby… need you now,” he groans with a newfound urgency. He pulls your panties to the side and groans again, deeper, when you immediately start grinding down, rubbing your wetness over his shaft. “Baby, please. Wanna see you ride this cock… ‘s what it was made for. Just for you and your perfect little pussy to take.”

You lean in to give him a filthy kiss that’s all tongue while you sink down on him, the both of you whining at the feeling of your wet heat engulfing him.

“Oh my god, Ash,” you breathe, moving your hips methodically, letting every inch of his cock drag torturously slow against your walls. “Always so good inside me… I’ll never get enough.” You lean back, bracing yourself on his strong thighs, moaning as you feel them flex underneath you as he struggles not to buck up into you.

Ashton lets out another deep groan and you bite your lip, knowing it means he’s caught up watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again; you know it’s his favorite part of having you ride him. “Never get tired of watching you take this cock, baby,” he huffs, confirming your suspicion. He runs his palms over your thighs, fighting the urge to grab onto your hips because he wants you to feel confident in your control. “Such a good girl, taking every last bit of it… look so pretty doing it. Bet it feels as good as it looks, doesn’t it, baby?”

A whimpered reply is the best you can offer as his hand travels to thumb at your clit. You start moving your hips more rapidly, trying to take advantage of the sensations he’s giving you but it’s not enough. You shift forward, flattening your palms against his broad chest, using it for leverage as you rock yourself at a moderate pace, gasping sharply as you immediately feel how the new angle changes how he’s hitting inside you.

“Ash… fuck, babe,” you whine, voice shaking as you speed up even more. “Never felt like this until you… filled so fucking good… never gonna want anything else. Just need you.”

He murmurs your name softly as he slips his hands up your t-shirt to cup your breasts, kneading them, his large hands using just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. He quickly decides he needs to hear more and tugs at the fabric; you understand he wants you to remove it and as soon as you peel the shirt off, his mouth is all over you.

He leaves wet kisses all over one tit while his hand massages the other and then he switches, never leaving you feeling anything less than spoiled. The scruff on his face is already causing a delicious burn on your skin so when he gently grazes your nipple with his teeth, the painful pleasure is almost too much for you to handle and you cry out before redirecting his attention by nudging his face so you can catch his lips in a needy kiss.

You pull away, rubbing over the light hair on his chest. His fingers are content to play with your nipples while you resume bouncing on his cock, settling into a rhythm that has you both breathing heavy.

You feel your climax building and breathe his name over and over like a prayer, almost as if you can’t believe you made it home and he’s here with you, giving you this pleasure. Ash picks up on your energy and shifts his hands to your waist, letting his touch reassure you. “I’m here, baby, come on,” he soothes, giving your hips a tight squeeze. “I’ve got you, love... wanna feel you cum.”

You feel like a woman possessed, pawing at your own breasts, riding his cock as fast as you can, wishing you could go faster but it feels so good you’re almost too overwhelmed to keep moving. “Fuck… Ash… fuuuuck… fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you plead breathlessly. You whimper again and again, feeling your release so close and yet nowhere near close enough. “Need to cum… need you… please… oh Daddy, please.”

You and Ash hadn’t been together very long when you first let a ‘Daddy’ slip in bed. You had no idea where it came from, you’d never called anyone that and it wasn’t a kink either of you had discussed any interest in. But you were already so comfortable with him that you never felt embarrassed about it, you both just giggled and went with it and he gently teased you about it in the following days. You decided to own it, dropping it occasionally as a half-sexy, half-ironic inside joke between you until one day the two of you realized just how serious it’d actually become, how much it seemed to affect you both on a primal level. Your use of the word evolved, like things always do when you’re with someone for a long time; it went from a bonding joke to a naughty cue to something reserved for special occasions and these days, it seems to only slip out subconsciously during your neediest, most desperate moments.

You’re so far gone the words you’ve just said don’t even register in your mind until you hear the guttural noise coming from Ashton’s throat and you feel his hold on your hips tighten to an almost painful degree. Your eyes flicker open to meet his and the excitement and love you see, the eagerness to return to that era of shared intimacy with you, is almost enough to push you over the edge.

“What was that, baby?” He teases, holding your hips still so he can buck his into you at a deviously slow pace. “Didn’t hear you… think you might need to say it a little louder.”

You try matching his rhythm as he rocks into you but his grip is so tight it’s no use, but you do keep trying because you like the struggle and he likes denying you. You lock eyes and stare him down for as long as you can, almost as if you’re challenging him, until he hits that one spot inside you that forces you to close your eyes and shudder. “I said…” You start, trying to find your breath as he moves his hips to match the staccato rhythm of your words. “Fuck me. Please. Need you. To make me cum. To fuck me. Daddy.” Your voice gets louder with every word and by the end of your request, you’re practically shrieking.

“That’s my girl,” Ash says in a voice both syrupy and dominating. “My baby wants to cum, my baby��s gonna cum. Give this pretty pussy what it deserves.” He gives your body an affectionate squeeze before he plants his feet flat on the bed for leverage and begins fucking up into you with impressive force.

You want to cry out, to call his name, to tell him how glad you are to be his, how you always want to be, how every time with him is better than the last and as exciting as the first. But you’re so fucking close and his cock is hitting so deep inside you, you barely have the brainpower to keep holding onto him the way that you are.

The only sounds filling the room are Ashton’s belabored grunts, your strained whines and the sound of his skin slapping against yours. A low, rumbly moan stirs in your throat and you both know this is it. He’s careful to keep his thrusts steady as you start to fold in on yourself, tensing from the sensations surging through your body. He feels you clench around him hard, your breath coming out in short, huffy sobs that seem to keep perfect time with the feeling of your pussy pulsing on his cock.

You’re seeing stars by the time you fall forward against him, arms made of jelly. Before he even has time to check on you, you push up on his chest, balancing yourself upright again. He gives you a half-concerned, half-amused look and you answer his unspoken question, “I’ve got one more apology to make.” He shakes his head, smiling and gestures for you to take the lead again.

You bounce on him, knowing he loves to watch the way your tits sway when you ride him like this. “Tell me when,” you direct, speeding up your pace. You’re nowhere near the speed he was moving at but it still only takes a couple minutes of work to get Ash groaning and grabbing at your ass.

"Love you like this, baby," he mumbles, kneading your cheeks as you move on him. He lets you get a few more pumps in before his fingers are digging into you and he’s growling, “So fucking beautiful… squeezing me so fuckin' tight, baby… ‘s all I can take, got me too fuckin’ close.”

The urgency in his voice springs you into action and you climb off and swiftly take him in your mouth. Ash moans loudly as you quickly bob your head up and down, not wanting to lose momentum. You flutter your tongue along the underside of his cock, murmuring as you taste your own release on his skin. You pull up, letting your hand continue to work him and you let the spit pour down your chin as you look at him and rasp, “Gonna let me have it all, Daddy? Promise I’ll be good and take every drop.”

Ashton props himself up on his elbows, stroking through your hair before his loving but firm hand starts coaxing you back down; his hazel eyes are clouded with lust as he meets your gaze and breathes, “Don’t swallow.”

A thrill runs through you and you share a mischievous look with him as you lower your mouth on him. His hand stays in your hair, applying light pressure as you sink down as far as you can before you start gagging; he pulls you back and guides you to bob more shallowly and seconds later, with a loud shout of your name, he’s cumming.

You focus on the sounds of his grunting and groaning as the hot liquid shoots across your tongue; you close your eyes, trying your hardest to follow his direction and fight your instinct to swallow. You pull back so you’re suckling at the head and you feel his grip on your hair start to slack as he takes his other hand and gives himself a few light strokes, milking out every last drop for you.

With an exhausted sigh, Ashton gently tugs your head back and instructs, “Show me.” You eagerly open your mouth, wiggling your tongue around, enough to let him see his release swirling around but careful not to let any of it spill from your lips. The satisfied look on his face has you feeling like you might cum again on the spot. “Good girl,” he smirks proudly. “Now make it disappear for me.”

A sly smile of your own spreads across your face as you let some - but not all - of the substance slide down your throat before leaning in to kiss him, murmuring as he takes the hint and deepens it, dipping his tongue in your mouth for a taste. You take it a step further, using your tongue to push the remaining cum inside his mouth, a chill running down your spine as he moans against your lips.

He tugs your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away, giving you an amused look. You shrug playfully, explaining, “You just said ‘make it disappear,’ you didn’t specify how.”

He chuckles and pulls you closer for the slow, reassuring kiss he typically lays on you after a kinky, more intense session like you just had. You smile softly at each other and when the moment is over, he gently grabs your hand and leads you to the bathroom for a quick cleanup.

You return to the bedroom a few moments later and Ash resituates the bed while you slip on a new shirt and underwear. You crawl back under the covers together and he promptly lays you on his chest, hand once again sneaking up the back of your tee, craving as much skin on skin contact as he can get.

“You sure about not wanting to fight ever again? Don’t wanna miss out on fun like that,” you joke, heart swelling at the ridiculous cackle that rattles through your boyfriend’s chest.

“Maybe we pick smaller, lower stakes things to fight about,” he muses, kissing your forehead. “What movie to watch, who has to load the dishwasher. No more serious shit.”

You cock your head at him amusedly. “Maybe… it is nice knowing the ‘Daddy’ card still works, though.” He pokes at you and you let out a squeal which he silences with another sweet kiss.

There’s a beat and then Ashton sighs, “I am sorry, baby. I wish I hadn’t said --- “

“Hey. No, Ash, we promised we weren’t gonna do that,” you cut him off, lifting your head to look at him. “That’s the past now. Who did what, what was said… ‘s not important. This is. This is all that matters.” You press a kiss to his shoulder, lightly pecking across his collarbones until you hear him give a deep exhale, letting go of whatever guilt he was still holding onto.

You settle back on him and he strokes his fingers through your hair, humming softly before thinking out loud, “I think I’d like us to try and set aside some time to spend together each week, no matter what we have going on. Obviously when it comes time to tour again, it’ll have to be virtual but… I just… I wouldn’t say we’ve started to take each other for granted… I just think maybe living together has gotten us used to how much we need each other and so now that we finally have other things that need our attention ---”

“When that need goes unfulfilled, disaster strikes,” you muse.

“Exactly.”

You gaze up at him fondly. “I think that’s a great idea, Ash.”

“Good,” he says, satisfied, before following up in a much softer voice. “I just don’t ever want to feel that disconnected from you again. I didn’t like it.”

You pout, squeezing yourself as tightly to him as you can. “Me neither, babe.”

The two of you lay quietly for a few moments. You’ve just started to drift off back to sleep when his voice breaks the silence. “Nap and then breakfast?”

“Mmm,” you approve, hands running across his chest hair. “Pancakes.”

Ashton clicks his tongue. “See, I was thinking breakfast burritos…”

You look up at him, love, mischief and exhaustion in your eyes. “Ooh, are we fighting again?” You suggestively ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He grins, pulling you back into his embrace. “Definitely nap first. We’re gonna need the energy if we’re gonna make up anymore today.” --- @conversecake @cxddlyash @cashtonasfuck @talkfastromance4 @camelliastreet @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @blacktreacles @maggiesupertramp @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @youngblood199456 @xsongbirdx @fairytrice @calumrose @irwindoll @polycashton @in-superbloom @2fangirl4u @highstwildflower @t3lkfast @bport76

#prepare to be sick of me reblogging this because i intended to have this up wayyyy before today's pod so it's gonna get buried lol #5 seconds of summer smut #5sos smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #smut #kh4f fic #Gardener!Ash #kindahoping4forever #It's Morning Now #tbh don't have much else to say about it #things have been tough and for a minute i legit didn't know if i was done writing for good #but it feels nice to be posting again #and i am excited for what's next for this series #and hopefully i'll be able to follow through and bring that together in a timely fashion #health allowing smh #anyways #as always feedback reblogs and all that is encouraging and appreciated

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

The Summer Before College | Marcus Moreno x reader

summary: just because you got some good scholarships doesn't mean you couldn’t use some extra cash. luckily, babysitting for a family friend has been a steady side gig for you. rule number one of babysitting: don't let your wandering eye rest for too long on the hot single dad.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut (dub con elements? but she’s into it lol don’t worry), age gap (he’s 40-something, reader’s 18/19), loss of virginity, pussy spanking (like, once), lots of petnames and ‘good girl’s, not a dark fic but kinda pushing it, not explicitly dad's best friend trope but it has that energy and I've decided that he is in fact friends with the reader's dad

a/n: this has basically nothing to do with the movie. he’s just a hot dad. don’t overthink it.

You knew the walk to the Moreno's by now: down two blocks from your house, take a right at San Vicente, a left on Birch, a few houses down and you're there. With your full backpack weighing on your shoulders it felt longer than usual, but you made it anyways and knocked on the front door.

"It's open!" a voice called from inside, and you turned the knob and swung the door open.

You almost regretted wearing your tiniest jean shorts, from the way Mr. Moreno did a double take when you walked in. But hey, it was the middle of summer and he would never look at you like that— you were just his daughter's babysitter, ever since you were sixteen; he was probably just surprised to see that you were wearing something other than your school uniform. Maybe some part of you wished he would look at you like that…

Missy called your name, tearing you from your thoughts, jumping up when she saw you and beaming as she rushed to give you a hug. "Hey!" you greeted in return.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Mr. Moreno nodded in your general direction, apparently already dressed for whatever it was he had to do, slipping on his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door. "She's already had dinner, so just homework and bedtime," he explained to you as you nodded dutifully.

"Bedtime? Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore," Missy rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you're a big kid and you need to be asleep by 10. It's a school night."

She huffed but didn't protest, and you joined her on the couch because she wanted to show you some drawings she’d done earlier that day. "Bye, Dad!" Missy waved when he left, and he turned back quickly to blow a kiss in her direction.

Once you helped her finish her homework (frankly, you didn't have to do that much— she's a smart kid), the two of you enjoyed some video games before you finally got her to start getting ready for bed.

It was cute how confident Missy was that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, only for her to be snoring within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow. You were envious of how easily she could sleep; you could kill an hour just tossing and turning and readjusting your blanket. But that wasn’t going to be your problem tonight: you weren’t going to sleep yet, until the man of the house returned, meaning all you had to do was wait.

Even in summer, having already graduated, you had plenty of work to do while you waited for Mr. Moreno. Knowing what classes you had in the fall, you bought your textbooks a bit early and planned on reading them all before the semester began. You’d already gotten through Philosophy Through the Ages and now you continued from where you left off in the middle of Introductory Physics.

What surprised you was that you had time to finish that one, too. You had anticipated that Mr. Moreno would be back before you made it to the module on fluid dynamics, but you reached the index at a quarter past midnight and he was still gone. You shrugged and picked up the next one— A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry— hoping he was alright and that he’d be back soon.

You had to make yourself some coffee when 1 a.m. rolled around; tired, anxious, and distracted, you realized this was probably not the best state to be attempting to study in, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice. You didn’t want to fall asleep here, you’d promised to watch Missy and you couldn’t exactly do that while asleep… plus, he would probably be back any minute now. Sure, you’d been saying that to yourself for nearly an hour and a half now, but it was more true than ever.

It was another hour and a half, though, until his car pulled into the driveway and he pushed through the front door, prompting you to set aside your textbook.

“Good evening,” you greeted, standing up. He looked a little disheveled— but it worked for him, with that curly hair all messed up in just the right way. Maybe it was just that it was late or that it was the rare time you saw him without Missy around, but there was a darkness about him now, not sinister so much as just purely intimidating. It was like you hadn’t really taken him seriously before, and now you were appreciating that you should have.

“She’s asleep?” he assumed, glancing over to the hallway which his daughter’s bedroom was positioned at the end of before slipping his jacket off and hanging it by the door.

“It’s half past two, so… I really hope so,” you chuckled.

“Shit, is it that late already?” he groaned, glancing at his watch.

“Did you not notice?”

“I.. got carried away.”

You didn’t want to know what he’d been out so late for. It was none of your business, and you figured you were better off without any secrets to keep— you’d never been so good at keeping secrets, even your own.

“Been studying this whole time?” he noticed as he glanced at the textbooks on the couch, grinning a little. It sort of felt like he was mocking you, and it made your cheeks warm as you nodded. “What a good girl.”

That made a cold tingle crawl up your spine. Sure, other students had called you that before, and plenty of your teachers, but when he said it, like that… it felt entirely new. “I try,” you managed to respond eventually.

“You’ll do well in college, I bet.”

“You think so?” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he nodded confidently. There was something comforting about the way he smiled at you; yet, there was something predatory about the way his eyes glanced down your body and back up slowly.

As you turned and bent over to pick up your textbooks off the couch, you could tell that he had stepped closer; you could just barely hear the soft noise of his footsteps on his carpet, just barely feel the warmth of him behind you, just barely pick up on the slow, thoughtful breath he took in and out through his nose.

Standing back up slowly, you felt him do it again, right against your neck.

“M-Mr. Moreno,” you stammered, shivering when his hands gripped you on either arm. Not a tight grip, per se, but one that made his strength obvious.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he breathed. “Not when we’re alone.”

Not that you really had any plan on how to respond to that, but if you had, it would've been forgotten as his lips brushed over your neck, leaving teasing kisses in a trail over your pulse.

"Wait—" you blurted out instinctively when his hands moved to your waist, cut off by your own shaky sigh and suppressed moan. “What if she wakes up?” you questioned anxiously, glancing down the hallway and hoping you wouldn’t find Missy there, watching her dad feeling you up— and you letting him, not just that but enjoying it. Of course, the hallway was deserted, but you couldn’t feel certain it would stay that way.

“She won’t,” he assured. “Not if you can be a good girl and stay quiet.”

You made a little whimpering noise as you wondered if you could. You didn’t know how, really; you were good at being quiet when you were alone, but being alone had never felt like this. Forbidden, sexy, terrifyingly wonderful… nothing had ever felt like this.

“Do you want me to stop?” he purred, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, “please… please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grinned. “Tell me what you do want.”

“I want…” you sighed and started over again, willing yourself to speak your thoughts aloud even though they made a pit of guilt sink in your stomach. "I want you to make me feel good."

You knew it was a sort of childish way of putting it, even before he laughed at your statement, but you weren't sure what else to say. "Yeah? I can do that," he decided. "But I can make you feel good in so many ways…" he trailed off as his right hand slipped lower and lower, finally landing between your legs as you gasped. Two fingers slid over the crotch of your shorts, and somehow he managed to bump against something that made electricity shoot up your spine and your hips buck into his touch of their own accord. You felt his smile widen as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "You'll have to be more specific," he finally finished. "How do you want me to make you feel good?"

"Inside me," you whined, "I want you inside me."

There was a sudden shift as it seemed like the control he had over you suddenly did not extend to himself; he growled a bit and pulled you into him, and you could feel the hard shape of his cock, through his trousers and your shorts. You could feel it pressed just above your ass and it made you squirm against his embrace. "Feel what you do to me?" he grunted, and you nodded quickly. "Good."

He spun you around quickly, pulling you close to him and burning right through you with those brown eyes darker than ever, but just as you thought he might kiss you, he spoke instead.

“My bedroom’s upstairs,” he informed you quietly.

You just nodded, following him as he pulled you along through the house, up the stairs and past the door to the master bedroom of the house.

Now that you hadn’t seen it coming, of course, was when he chose to grab you and kiss you suddenly. It was rough and passionate and nothing like you could've imagined; you were certain you'd never been kissed like this, like he needed to kiss you more than he needed anything.

Your arms slipped around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he kicked the door shut behind the two of you. Little moans were muffled by the kiss— and it took you a minute to realize they were yours. You didn’t even sound like yourself; probably because you’d never felt like this before, and therefore had never had any reason to sound like this.

You could feel his cock between your legs, though unfortunately not in the way you wanted. Still, it drove you wild to have him so close like this, to try to imagine how the thick shape you were feeling would ever fit inside you.

His hands were so strong and thick that you worried they’d stretch out your tank top just by reaching under it— well, that is you would have worried about that if you could think about anything else but his hands reaching under your tank top. He didn’t even waste his time touching you over your bra, instead making quick work of the clasps with one hand before coming back to grope one breast in his palm, then the other. Just that was enough to make you run your fingers into his hair, but a little pinch to your raised nipple made your fists tighten and pull— you didn’t mean to, and you were just about to feel bad about it until he growled a little. It seemed like a growl of approval, considering he pinched your nipples harder to make you do it again.

“Feels good?” he asked with annoying (yet arousing) confidence.

“S-so good,” you slurred, stumbling over your words as you tried to think as clearly as possible through the thick haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

As he guided you to set your legs down and unhook your arms from around his neck, you felt a bit like a doll being posed; when he pulled your top over your head and your bra from your arms, you felt like a doll being undressed. You sort of didn’t mind it; you were happy to let him take the lead, confident he knew at least 100% more about this than you did.

He knelt down before you as he roughly pulled at your tight jean shorts, his knuckles nearly bruising your hips as he stripped you. Your underwear were not the pair you would’ve worn if you had known somebody was going to see them, just a plain dark blue color that made you feel so drab as he came face-to-face with them. He didn’t seem to mind much, grinning up at you as he slipped his fingers under them and pulled them down, too. Your face was so hot and yet your legs were breaking out into goosebumps simultaneously, and a shiver rolled up your body when he growled at the sight of your body laid bare for him. Before you could even process it, he stood up and grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed and spreading your legs.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praised with a smile that made you feel a little light-headed, swirling a few fingers over your swollen button until pulling them back to spank you there— it wasn’t even that hard, but you yelped and jolted and he laughed darkly. “So sensitive,” he purred, his words walking a fine line between a compliment and a taunt, “so wet.”

Another finger slipping down to your entrance proved him right, your arousal plentiful as his touch glided through your folds.

Suddenly overcome with a moment of bravery, you sat up and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, making him smile down at you. “Let me help you,” he offered as he worked the buttons instead, freeing you to try to open his belt. “Look at you, acting so desperate…”

At this point, you weren’t even offended by that; you wanted him so bad that you didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by it anymore.

He slipped the shirt off of his shoulders just as you finished opening the belt. He pushed your hands away, and now you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you down by your wrists. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, señorita,” he purred.

Why did feeling powerless to him turn you on so much? There was no real fear to it— you knew and trusted him, you would never have developed your misguided crush on him if you didn’t— and yet there was a strong edge of uncertainty as he kissed your neck and moved down your chest, between your breasts before he stopped to kiss those, too.

“Oh god,” you breathed, and he smiled against your skin before sitting up and staring down at you. It wasn’t apparent if it was distant streetlights or the moonlight shining in through the window, but either way it cast a cold blue light into the room that reflected as a glimmer in his eyes.

“Not gonna make you wait any longer,” he promised in a low voice, reaching down to push his unbuttoned belt and trousers to his thighs— those thick, muscular thighs that made your lip catch between your teeth.

Your breath caught, too, but in your lungs this time as his cock was exposed: thick, swollen, veiny… it looked picturesque, if thoroughly intimidating. You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to move towards it or sheepishly crawl away.

"Why do you look scared?" he asked, his voice so much deeper than you remembered it from before, even if there was genuine concern somewhere in his tone.

"Is it gonna hurt?" you asked instead of answering.

"Baby…" he sighed huskily, "are you a virgin?"

You bit your lip and looked away, irritated that you hadn't managed to hide your fear enough to keep your secret.

He sighed, your silence apparently answer enough.

"Do you not want to, anymore?" you asked anxiously, afraid you had completely killed the mood. Part of the reason it'd taken you this long to lose it was specifically because people seemed intimidated by the idea of being your first.

"No, no, I— no," he asserted sternly. "I just need to… change my approach, slightly.”

He leaned down a bit, hovering over you as he trailed his hand up your leg, rubbing the inside of your thigh before finally drawing circles over your aching clit with his thumb, causing you to shiver and moan quietly.

“And, to answer your question, it won’t hurt. Not if I get you good and ready for me,” he explained, pushing just one finger into you— and even that small of a stimulation made your eyes flutter shut, with his fingers being so much thicker and stronger than yours.

The second made your fists clench around the satin-y sheets beneath you. You didn’t dare open your eyes, knowing you’d find him staring down at you and you weren’t ready for that, weren’t ready to see his reaction to your body in such a vulnerable state. You could hear his reaction, though, with the rough groans and satisfied sighs he let out as he pumped his fingers into you.

When three fingers filled you, your eyes shot open. “Fuck!” you yelped.

He smiled but slowed down, apparently taking some pity on you— but not enough to stop him from pressing down harder on your clit.

Just when you figured he’d warmed you up enough and he’d fuck you like he promised, he slid lower and the bed and bent down, adding his tongue into the mix with his fingers. It was… overwhelming, and hot, not just psychologically but literally: it was physically hot, as in temperature. How was his mouth so warm against you, and his fingers so warm inside you?

When he latched his lips around your clit and sucked on it, you saw stars. Energy gathered in your gut and burned so bright that you thought you might explode. Really, it was more like an implosion as the coil inside you snapped and your thighs accidentally clamped down on his hand. It didn’t faze him though, it didn’t even slow him down as he moaned a little against you and curled his fingers even harder. You didn’t remember reaching down to grab his head, you just felt his hair between your fingers as you pulled it roughly, gasping his name.

When he did stop, sitting up and wiping his face with the back of his hand, you just looked back up at him as you caught your breath. He laughed, and you realized you were gawking unintentionally.

“I’m guessing you’ve never come like that before?” he ventured. You didn’t know if ‘like that’ meant from oral or just so suddenly and intensely, but it was true either way so you nodded.

When he reached down to grip his cock with the same hand still wet with your slick, you held your breath without realizing it. “Please put it in me,” you whimpered.

“I will,” he assured as he guided the head of it through your slick folds, stopping to tease your clit as you jolted from the contact on the sensitive nerves. Something surreal and indescribable tingled under your skin— you could hardly believe that this was happening, let alone with him, with Mr. Moreno. Or, Marcus. You were on a first-name basis by now, surely.

He pushed forward in one smooth, slow stroke until he was all the way inside you, his body filling yours to the brim as you quivered from the sensation of being stretched so wide.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.

“...almost,” you answered hesitantly, unsure how to describe the sensations you were feeling; not exactly pain, but not not pain. The favorite pain you’d ever felt in your life, easily.

He chuckled as he gripped your hips a little tighter. "I'm gonna move now," he announced. You nodded your approval, sighing shakily as he pulled his hips back and you felt the intoxicating friction of his cock against your walls.

"Ffffuck," you whimpered, gasping when he slammed his hips forward again. Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pushed as deep into you as he could with each thrust, still measured but not exactly gentle as he set a pace faster than you’d prepared for. But it was good, god it was so fucking good you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. "Marcus," you sighed, barely recognizing your own voice when it was heavy with need and arousal like this.

He grinned when he heard his name cross your lips, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis until you were forced to arch your back. "You like it rough, don't ya, honey?"

You nodded, confident that you liked it however he was doing it.

"Fuck, I knew it. Knew as soon as I saw you."

Before you could wonder what he meant by that, he was already moving fast enough to make your head spin. You had never had anything so deep inside you before, and when he pushed your legs up and back against your chest, you had no choice but to scream with pleasure.

Just before you reached the peak of it though, his hand clamped down over your mouth to muffle the sound. "Gotta be quiet," he reminded you through his teeth before relaxing his hand a bit so you could still be heard somewhat

"I can't," you whined, "Marcus, please, I can't stay quiet—"

"You have to."

"Feels too good," you whimpered your excuse. "F-fuck, slow down, I won't be able to stop it—"

He cut you off with a kiss, slow yet dominating, and your moans were muffled by his lips. You still sounded so loud in your own head, but at least your cries weren't echoing against the walls of his room anymore.

What was echoing were the sounds of skin slapping on skin as he pounded into you, roughly finding every delicate spot within you and making the backs of your thighs sore as his hips slammed into them. It forced your hands to grip at his muscular shoulders and your nails to dig into the skin there. You hoped there would be little half-moon shaped marks there tomorrow, maybe one would even scar so he'd have your mark on his body forever; after all, he'd carved a permanent space in your body by taking your virginity. Even if you couldn't dream of being as special to him as he was to you, you liked the idea of giving him something that he couldn't give back.

That energy was building again, different from before but no less powerful and persistent. "I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm so close," you whispered.

“Yeah? Go ahead," he encouraged. "I wanna see you fall apart just for me, wanna feel you come around my cock."

You hadn't realized he'd be able to feel it, and the idea of that was so filthily beautiful that it pushed you over the edge, your whole body tensing up in sudden waves of pleasure so intense that it made your eyes water.

Through the static filling your ears, you heard his low, husky voice encouraging you: "Good girl, just like that, don't fucking stop."

You'd always been powerless to his voice, but this was another level. It was as if your body understood and met his demands, continuing to ride the peak of your sensation so long as he growled in your ear just right.

It was much too tender, the way he brushed the stray hair away from your face, the way he kissed your slack mouth again, the way he held you tighter and mumbled more praises to you. It was more romantic than it had any right to be, and you had to bite back the words of affection threatening to spill out of your mouth.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, I've loved you for years, but it was beyond inappropriate. You didn't want to play the role of the innocent virgin who thinks sex means being in love and lets herself catch feelings for the older man who is just taking what he wants and, at best, doing her a favor so she doesn't have to go off to college and get her cherry popped there. Maybe that was accurate, but that wasn't who you wanted to be.

You wanted to be sexy, and mature, and in control. You wanted to play a new rule, one that still felt foreign and yet closer than ever. So you wrapped your legs around his hips and held him deeper in you, smiling with a little growl of your own.

"I want you to come inside me," you informed him with a purr, loving the little moment of shock that passed over his face before he groaned, fucking you a little faster and more erratically.

"Fuck, really?" he rasped.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and nodded.

"You're on the pill?"

Another nod, this one finished off with a shiver as you wondered how much more of this your body could take.

He grinned and picked up the pace again, his moans getting a little louder with each movement. "Fuck, I'm gonna come— gonna fill up your tight little pussy, is that what you want?"

You nodded feverishly, already close to the edge again as you imagined what it would be like to have his come in you for the rest of the night. Was he going to make you walk home with it leaking out from between your legs? Why did that idea make your inner muscles involuntarily tighten around him?

With a string of curses and a grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise, he reached his own peak and you felt his cock flex and pulse inside you, a new warmth filling your gut from the inside out.

It's hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that, since you were busy basking in the afterglow (and, less enjoyably, worrying about the consequences that tomorrow morning would bring).

When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, you wondered if you should get up and get dressed.

"Stay here tonight," he instructed you, as if somehow a response to your internal thought. "Your folks won't freak out if you're out all night, right?"

"I'll just tell them I slept over at your place," you shrugged. With a confused look from him, you clarified: "on the couch."

"Right," he nodded as he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you closer, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. In this way and in so many others, it was how you expected (and hoped) losing your virginity would go: someone you trust and who cares about you, with enough attention on you that you didn't feel much pain, plus cuddling afterwards. But, in even more ways, it was unlike what you'd ever thought possible: it felt incredible and you came so hard that your ears were still kind of ringing, you didn't use a condom or even think to mention it, and finally— and most absurdly— it was with Marcus fucking Moreno.

Frankly, considering his performance earlier, "fucking" very well could be his middle name.

"You should sit for me again next week," he suggested quietly.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No," he grinned, "but I'll be sure to come back real late, after she's gone to bed, so I can show you all the other ways I can make you feel good."

"H-how many ways are there?!"

He just laughed, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, sweetheart… so smart, but so innocent. We can fix that.”

You weren’t sure entirely which of those two things he intended on fixing.

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal x reader

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selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 3 years

Text

BTS Scenario: An omega arrives in your pack (Hyungline x alpha/beta fem!reader)

Summary: An omega joining a pack is a blessing - an unmated one is a miracle. So when the village elder came to you not with authority in her eyes but pity and pleading for understanding, you had no choice but to let him go.

Or, an omega joins the pack and you’re an alpha/beta in a relationship with another alpha. The community asks for your sacrifice. Warnings/Notes: Implied Smut, slight ass play, Angst, Drabble (no resolution... yet) I wanted to explore a different dynamic in the ABO Universe, since it’s usually Alpha BTS x Omega Reader but how about the Beta or even the Alpha reader? Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 2k+ (500 per drabble)

KIM SEOKJIN

(after he’s called to participate in the matching, and Jungkook is an unmated male omega who’s always had a crush on you) (though crush is a understatement)

He’s here for a final goodbye, you think as you allow him to push you back against the wall.

He kisses you with desperation, all teeth and tongue, as if he wants to devour you whole. He reeks of her but you push it at the back of your mind, together with your instinct to gain the upper hand.

If this is goodbye, let it be as soft as you two could be.

You close your eyes to blink back the tears and wrap your arms around his neck. You match his passion kiss after kiss until you both are panting, breathing in each other.

Seokjin slows it down and pulls at your shirt, slipping it off your head. His eyes are wan, and he hasn’t met your gaze the whole time. It feels wrong, but then again, everything is.

So you try to bring back some normalcy and let the urgency in your touch show. Your arms slid down his shoulder, pushing him back into your room, your strength easily matching his.

In the dark of the room, you tug at his shirt but Seokjin grasps your hand away from his chest. You thought he’s going to lead you to his cock just as he did many times before, but he pulls you closer until there’s no more space between your chest and his and leads your hand to his hole.

He’s dry as the dessert but her pushes your hand closer, until your fingers tap his puckered hole.

You can feel him force himself not to tense up, breathing deeply and dropping his head to your shoulder. His back is caved over you, like a tall child and he turns to graze his lips against your ear.

“I’ll let you fuck me too, if that’s what you want, jagi.”

Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hand away but he holds it still. Your other hand tries to push his chest away but his other arm wraps around your shoulder blades, unwilling to let go.

He keeps still in the crook of your neck, murmuring words you never imagined you’ll hear from the alpha, “I’ll moan like he did. Beg like he did.” His voice shakes, and you startle at the tears wetting your skin. It doesn’t even occur to you to wonder how he knew about Jungkook, and what had transpired the night before because here he is.

He’s crying. Your alpha is crying.

“Just please don’t leave me.”

MIN YOONGI

(Your love for Yoongi knows no bounds, you can give him this. In which your arranged marriage is thwarted.)

“It’s a good thing we’re not bonded yet, huh?”

You try not to wince at the relief in his voice and instead you laugh, hoping that the dark is enough to conceal the wobble on your lip.

You are both lying on your bed, exhausted by your hours long of… what do you call it again? Ah, he did call it his favorite recreational activity. He figured sexual compatibility is an important factor in arrange marriages earlier on your engagement.

And you, in love with him for more than half your life, said yes.

His fingers are playing with your hair, while his other hand lifts a lit cigarette to his lips. He glances down at you, his cat-like eyes half-lidded.

“You want a smoke?”

Pulling the blanket higher to your chest, relishing in the slight flicker of interest in his eyes, you shake your head. “Actually, can you not smoke on my bed tonight?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but says nothing and puts out his cigarette against the ash tray on your bedside table. Usually, you take up on his offer, and he’s not gonna lie and say that the image of your lips around a cigarette doesn’t stir his cock alive.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, the only time you refused his offer was whenever you’re feeling the drop after your activities. But usually, you’ll tell him outright, communication being as open as you both could.

You let a small smile touch your lips at his tone. He cares for you, you know, maybe not as much as you want him to, but it’s enough.

Or it used to be enough.

“Just a mild migraine,” you lie before pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

Yoongi smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “You know what cures migraines?”

Your smile grows wider as you look up to his grin, his hand already sliding down the small of your back under your blankets. “I think I have an idea.”

By the time he’s pulled out 3 more orgasms from you, the moon has started fading from the night sky. The brisk winter air entering your room by the open window, drawing goosebumps on your skin.

Beside you, Yoongi sits up and pulls his shirt over his head.

“You’re not staying the night?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “The trials start the day after tomorrow, I’ve got to get a head start.”

Your press your lips together, your hand sneaking down your belly. You imagine your child, the size of a pea, hoping they do not hear your breaking heart. “I thought you didn’t like being choices taken away from you.”

That was one of the major points of discussion when your parents arranged your marriage. It’s also a source of your many arguments at the start, before slowly becoming some sort of unwanted roommate in your makeshift relationship.

Yoongi pauses, there’s something in your voice that he can’t pinpoint. He turns to you, for once, you are unreadable. “This is different.”

“Oh,” you breathe. How so, you want to ask. How come a choice robbed by our secondary natures so much different than the ones robbed by our parents? How come it’s the lesser evil in your eyes?

How come I was never a palatable choice in the first place?

But you don’t. Instead, Yoongi presses on. “At least now, you know, if it turns out that it’s me, you’re free. You can go to university just like you want.”

“Yeah…” you chuckle dryly, “Well, good luck then.”

You don’t beg him to stay, you’re an alpha too and an alpha protects their pack. As your hand travels down to your belly again, you remember - you have your own to protect now too.

JUNG HOSEOK

(You’re just his best friend. What can you say?)

“She smells like lilacs! No, wait, honey! Honey and cream.” Hoseok sighs, all lovestruck on your couch over the new omega girl in town.

As part of the search party that found her, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks. Giving you updates on her recovery in the beginning, and then her smile, her eyes, and the way she laughs as time went by.

At first, you didn’t mind. An omega joining the pack is a blessing, given their rarity. They symbolize fertility and bounty, and you are nothing if not loyal to the community. You foster the village children as their teacher, you teach them the ropes of the land - how to feed the cows, how to plant the seeds, and how to prepare for harvest - after all.

But as time went by, as Hoseok’s visits to her home frequent and his visits to yours lessen, it’s become harder and harder to keep the bitter thoughts away. Hoseok may still visit you, but when was the last time you two talked about anything other than her?

“The trials for her mate starts next week,” Hoseok starts, almost as if waiting for you to say something, “I’m thinking of participating.”

From the kitchen, you tighten your hold on the tray balancing your tea and snacks. Without a wobble, you inquire as you step back into your living room, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he picks up one of your cookies, suddenly looking all bashful, “I’m unmated and I’m not getting younger so, might as well give it a shot you know?”

You frown behind your tea cup, “We’re barely past our mid-20s, Seok-ie, that hardly qualifies as old.”

Hoseok leans back and tilts his head on the back of your couch until it hangs in relaxation. “It’s different between you and I.”

It’s true, betas are not so pressured to reproduce early. After all, there’s nothing special to be had in your genes, you think bitterly.

“Besides,” he continues, “I think I like her. You know, maybe we should invite her next time we hang out! You can get to know her too!”

“I’d rather not.” It spills over your lips before you could control it, and Hoseok stiffens before turning his gaze to you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” Hoseok teases, unaware at how his words hit home.

You stiffen, biting your lip before the dam breaks. “Maybe I am.” you whisper.

He blinks in surprise at the feebleness of your tone, “B-but… you’re a beta.”

You know. You know your place, in this village and in his life but somehow it’s different hearing it from him. Standing, you turn away to step back into your kitchen when a hand grasps your wrist.

“I don’t understand.” Hoseok whispers, trying to look up to your face but thwarted by your hair. He doesn’t need to see your watering eyes to know there are tears in them. He’s reeling from the sudden change of atmosphere, smelling your distress in the air.

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the sense of inferiority and your heart caves into itself. With the last of your strength, you shake off his hold, pointing to the door.

“I think it’s best you leave.”

KIM NAMJOON

(Namjoon has always been a man of duty, and though you are tough and strong, there are limits to what you can and will endure)

You pride yourself to be level-headed, calm, and objective unlike many of the alphas in the pack. You’ve never lost your control, or flown into fury even during your youth but at this very moment, you summon all your discipline to keep your lips from pulling back and snarling at the older alpha in front of you.

How dare she?

How dare they ask this of you?

“It is his duty.” She repeats and beside you, Namjoon is silent. Eyes straight ahead, back as rigid as the trees outside your home. The home that you two built for your children that will come after your wedding.

The wedding that’s supposed to be in a month.

But the longer Namjoon stays silent, the farther that future seems to be. By the time the elder leaves your home, you don’t even see a speck of it in your mind’s eye.

The silence continue as you clean up the cups and uneaten rice cakes. The silent clink of the utensils echoing in your quaint home.

As you wash the dishes, you feel like an outsider watching your body go through the motions. Scrubbing the plate clockwise, once, twice, three times, before running it under the faucet. Next, you pick up the cups, here, clockwise, once, twice —

“It is my duty,” you hear Namjoon, and oh, he’s beside you, hand on your wrist, pulling your hands away from the frigid waters, “you know that, right?”

As one of the strongest and wisest alphas this pack has ever seen in generations, your betrothal to Namjoon was tolerated at best. Alpha bondings are common nowadays, with the scarcity of omegas. So yes, your betrothal was tolerated - just tolerated, even with you being as strong and as wise as your betrothed - but now?

With that young omega in the picture?

They are making you feel as if you’ve committed a grave sin against the community, as if it’s not within your rights to rage against the unfairness of it all.

They’re asking you for your love.

And he’s so willing to be taken away. Your heart breaks but you nod quietly, “I know. I understand.”

Namjoon stupidly thought that was the end of it. That you knew he’ll always come back to you, omega or not.

Maybe he was naive, or he truly was selfish to ask it of you but when he gets home the week after the trials to a dark cold house the surprise knocks him to his knees and drops his heart to his stomach.

You left the kitchen untouched, his mug still next to yours but, Namjoon pauses at the threshold of your room. There, glinting under the moonlight, sits your ring and the last of your scent wafts away.

END NOTES: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know if this should have a second (or even third) part! :)

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