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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers.

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door.

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this.

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door.

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth.

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up.

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it.

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety.

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement.

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care.

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves.

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone.

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you.

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are.

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh.

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex?

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours.

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly.

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it.

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now.

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it.

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt.

"Goodnight," he whispers back.

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that.

------------------------------

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache.

But you’re just friends.

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away.

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep.

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt.

Friends.

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer.

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips.

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away.

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words.

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing.

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words.

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you.

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment.

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again.

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses.

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck.

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there.

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later.

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you.

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you.

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum.

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders.

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs.

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans.

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want.

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close.

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course.

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty.

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway.

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently.

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt.

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about.

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further.

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway.

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know.

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words.

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you.

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation.

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way.

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut.

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating.

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation.

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit.

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing.

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes.

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet.

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb.

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing.

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter.

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck.

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you.

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

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gothbitchshit · 2 years

Text

Feels Like the First Time

Pairing: Eddie x plus sized female reader

Rating: Explicit — minors do not interact

Genre: fluff, explicit smut

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Eddie is your best friend, and has always been a little bit of a perv, but that doesn’t matter to you much considering you’re in love with him. Things change though when he sees you in something a little more revealing than he’s used to.

Warnings: idiots to lovers aka best friends to lovers, lowkey perv Eddie, mentioned porn, Eddie likes his girls thick idc I make the rules, Eddie sees the reader almost naked and falls in love™️, mentioned drug use, overuse of pet names, finger sucking, mentioned throat fucking (does not occur), choking, impact play/pussy slapping, master kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity (both reader and Eddie whoops), protected sex, safeword discussion, dirty talk (these two are filthy), dumbification if you squint, Eddie being silly -- if I missed anything please let me know!

Request status: yes! Requested by @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul

Authors note: sorry this has taken 75000 years 🙃 but it’s here! And it’s somewhat more lighthearted than thick with desire but I hope everyone still likes it!! Also it has been beta read so I hope it’s clean but if not, please let me know 💞

⋆ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋆

You always noticed how Eddie stared at you.

It didn’t bother you — you had gotten used to people’s eyes on you. There was just more of you to see than most of the other girls, and Eddie was, to put it lightly, a perv. He was obsessed with the “female form” as he put it. He never shied away from the topic of sex and what he found to be turn on, most of which came down to his personal motto: the bigger the better. And his views on sex helped you come out of your shell a bit. You weren’t a prude, just… inexperienced. But Eddie just being himself made you feel comfortable with sex — I mean you had to be with the amount of porn you found under his bed and on his nightstand. Eddie was your best friend, and he outright refused to keep secrets from you, including what type of porn he liked, and expected you to do the same. It hadn’t been easy at first, but the more time you spent around Eddie, the more free you felt.

The only secret you kept from him was that you were painfully in love with him; I mean how could you not be? He was sweet, funny, caring, and had the best hair in Hawkins (sorry Steve). But you pushed those feelings down, deep down, because you couldn’t live without Eddie. You didn’t want to lose him because of a silly crush you’d been holding onto for nearly a year, he meant too much to you. He was a constant in your life that you outright refused to give up. So, you carried on like normal, pushing down the longing you felt pang in your chest every time he made a comment about your figure, called you sweetheart, let you have the last bite of his food, or let you steal all of the blankets when you spent the night.

And you spent many nights at the Munson trailer getting high with Eddie while Wayne worked, even now after you had graduated from Hawkins High while he was attempting to finish his senior year for the third time. But an extra year for him to graduate wasn’t something that put either of you off — in fact it made you closer. Instead of meeting every day in the hallways between class, Eddie would pick you up from the salon you worked at to smoke and hang out, or even just take you home so you could spend some time together at the end of the day. Or you would join in Hellfire frivolities, much to everyone’s joy — especially the freshmen Eddie had collected.

But today was a holiday weekend, and you and Eddie were blessed by a weekend completely devoid of obligations. Wayne was out of town, the salon was closed, neither of you had anywhere to be, and your only thought was getting high enough to not feel the lingering stress of the past few weeks. Eddie had gone so far as to drag his mattress into the living room and made a fort out of some old sheets that looked suspiciously like ones that had disappeared from your linen closet after you complained about needing to get rid of them.

“Alright princess, we’ve got snacks, drinks, and enough weed to keep us obliterated until tomorrow night,” he smiled proudly, standing triumphantly in front of the entrance to the fort, before bowing dramatically, “Your castle, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, good sir,” you giggled, curtseying exaggeratedly in response. But Eddie grabbed your wrist and pulled you haphazardly into the fort, a scream leaving your lips as you felt the momentary weightlessness take over. But the next thing you knew, you were pinned to the mattress by Eddie’s lean frame, a proud smile on his face as he stared down at you. “What was that for, you big meanie,” you pouted up at him.

He shrugged, refusing to release your intertwined hands from where he had them pressed against the soft surface, “Just thought I’d keep ya on your toes, sweetheart,” he boasted, letting his body collapse onto you. You sighed dramatically, knowing it was useless to try and get him off you when he was like this.

Despite being as thin as he was, Eddie was surprisingly strong. He was able to manhandle you in a way you didn’t think was possible for your size, often taking to throwing you around like a rag doll in his play fights, and easily pinning you down to tickle you until you were crying and begging for mercy. But when Eddie got like this — especially when he was high — he stuck to you like a flytrap. Moving more than a few inches at a time was relatively impossible with his limbs wrapped around you like a boa constrictor.

You knew you were in for it when he slithered down slightly, sliding his arms around your waist and letting his head rest on your chest, his legs tightening around your own. You couldn’t help but laugh, earning a pinch to your side, “Pillows don’t laugh, pretty girl,” he chastised before finally settling.

“Eddie,” you whined, trying to shake him off you, “I’m not a pillow, and I’m hungry,” you complained, feeling the effects of the joint you two had shared on the drive over. It made you feel like you were floating, and Eddie’s body weight was the only thing keeping you from flying away.

“But sweetheart,” he whined, “We have all day to eat—“

“We also have all day for me to be your pillow but Eddie I’m hungry, and I’m warm,” you argued, grabbing a fist full of his hair and tugging on it gently, getting a deep moan from him in response.

“Christ, warn a guy before you go around pulling on his hair like that. You’re gonna give me the wrong idea, princess,” he smiled proudly, before sighing deeply and rolling off you. “But I guess you can eat. But pillow time later, promise me!” he demanded, eyebrows furrowed as he stared into your eyes, pinky held out toward you.

You wrapped your pinky around him with a roll of your eyes, a bright smile spreading across Eddie’s face as it did, “Now can you please feed me?”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, pushing himself off the bed before turning and wiggling his fingers at you. You grabbed his hands, allowing him to heave you off the floor, steadying you as you nearly face planted into his chest, “Whoa there, don’t need you falling for me yet,” he said with a wink.

“You’re the worst,” you grumbled, pushing him away from you as you went to retrieve your backpack. He just snickered to himself, letting you stomp away from him like a pouting child.

But Eddie was grateful for the moment of separation — he was on the losing end of a battle with his own hormones. It had taken every ounce of self control he had not to rut himself into you and bury his face in your chest.

He’d always played off his attraction for you as a generalized turn on — which wasn’t far off to say. He liked seeing the girls in his dirty mags that had more on their frames. More hips, more thigh, more ass, more tits. But his real turn on was you. It had been ever since the summer of ‘84 when the two of you had gone swimming in Lovers Lake after his broken air conditioner had forced you both out of the trailer.

You had stripped down to barely anything, demanding he turn away as you ran into the tepid waters. Eddie hadn’t meant to sneak a peek, only looking when he heard you yelp loudly. He had honestly thought you were hurt; he just wanted to check in on you. But what he got instead was the sight of your thin panties stretched over the roundness of your ass, the dimples and puckers in your skin on display; it took his breath away. But when you turned, and he caught a glimpse of your nipples poking against the thin matching material of your bra, one that was nearly too small to contain the fat of your tits, made him feel like a prepubescent boy about to lose his load looking down the shirt of his uncles ex girlfriend when he was 10.

But ever since that day, he’d been embarrassingly attracted to you. He thought everything you did was pure pornography and it was torture. He was getting more and more depraved and desperate as the days went on too. The simple act of you throwing your bare legs over his during movie nights and the light catching the hair of your legs got him hard, and the pout that seemed to permanently live on your mouth drove him crazy. He wanted to fill your bratty little mouth, make you choke on his fingers, or even better, his cock; make you gag and drool and cry as he abused your poor throat.

The worst part of it was that it seemed like you didn’t notice at all.

Gareth and Jeff had approached him multiple times about his borderline creepy behavior, worried about how it would affect the group if you grew tired of it. But he’d proven to them various times that you simply didn’t care — or at least pretended not to. They watched as he manhandled you into his lap during Hellfire, hands all over you. It would have been nearly obscene if you hadn’t giggled and slapped his chest playfully, rolling your eyes at him.

And your lack of reaction only made Eddie more bold. He was never one to back down from a challenge, always willing to push his limits until he either got what he wanted, or got burned.

But fuck did he want you. You were basically already living in domesticated bliss; all that needed to change was instead of fucking his fist every night to the thought of you, he’d be actually fucking you.

He barely realized he’d gotten himself so worked up just thinking about you, he’d shoved his hand in his pants and had began to stroke his painfully hard cock, praying that he’d cum before you walked back in the room so he didn’t have to walk past you with his cock throbbing painfully. He only hoped his black jeans would conceal the wet spot well enough.

But his prayers went unanswered as you threw open the door to his bedroom forcing him to yank his hand out of his pants with a hiss as his finger caught the zipper, slicing through the thin skin shallowly. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he grumbled.

“Eds are you okay?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern as you straddled his legs, taking his hand in yours to assess the damage. You pouted, eyes locking with his, “Eddie, you need to be careful,” you chastised with a small whine, “What were you even doing? If you hurt your fingers too much you won’t be able to play your show this week—“

“What the actual fuck are you wearing,” Eddie cut you off firmly, his eyes glued to your chest. “No, really, I’m gonna need an explanation sweetheart because it seems like you just want me to lose my goddamn mind.”

You looked down at the shirt, not really understanding what he meant. It was a little lower cut than shirts you normally wore, the tank top showing off a modest amount of your chest. “Eddie, I don’t know what you mean, I’m just wearing a shirt—“

He cut you off, surging forward to pin you underneath him again. It was something he did often, but the look in his eyes was something you’d never seen before. His eyes were swimming with frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Sweetheart, that’s not a shirt, that’s fucking temptation,” he explained.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the pain in your chest as you tried to push him off – you knew he didn’t mean you, just the idea of you, “Come on, Eddie, I know you like this kinda shit in porn but it's me. I know you don’t like me—“

“Excuse me?” He asked, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline, “Babycakes, you’ve got me all wrong. I am so wildly in love with you I’m barely competent when you’re in the room. Why do you think I failed Mrs. O’Donnell’s class again last year? I couldn’t think about Hamlet with you sitting next to me.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and jaw dropped open in shock. “But y-you never said anything—“

“Baby I’ve made it obvious for years now. You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t realize when I’m constantly telling you how sexy you are,” Eddie rolled his eyes. His tone was verging on annoyed, which pissed you off — he was placing all the blame on you for not noticing him when he was busy not noticing you.

“Hey! It’s not all my fault! Why do you think I always wear things you say you think are cute? I don’t do that for anyone else you know,” you defended yourself with a glare. “Plus, I asked your stupid ass to prom and you took me! How could you not realize I’m in love with you too?” It was Eddie’s turn to stare at you in shock, eyes going wide.

“I-I thought you just wanted me to feel less lonely because Gareth and Jeff had dates! I didn’t know you meant it,” Eddie stuttered, eyes going wide.

“Of course I meant it, Eddie, I’m not that mean,” you huffed, trying to throw his body off yours but he wouldn’t let you go, making you huff and turn your head away as you mumbled, “The fact that you’d think I would do all that just as a pity date is so gross and hurtful and—“

He cut you off with a kiss, lips slamming into yours with no remorse, his teeth clicking with yours from the sheer force of him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. His lips were soft — probably from the chapstick he continued to steal out of your bag — and his hand cradling your head felt right. His kiss consumed you, instantly going pliant in his grasp.

“I don’t think you’re mean baby,” he smiled, pulling back to look over your breathless state with a smile, “I mean… you can be an asshole, but it’s just one of the things I love about you princess.”

“And what are those other things you love so much, hm?” You asked cheekily, nipping at his ear as you pulled him closer.

“Hm, well, let’s see,” he smiled, pulling himself out of your grasp to tower over you. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in awe; he always looked so pretty hovering over you. His dark brown eyes sparkling in the low light and dimples on display as he smirked at you. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, you little vixen. I mean fuck baby, when you look at me it’s like you unplug my brain. Sometimes, you bat your eyelashes at me in Hellfire and I’m ready to hand the campaign over to you, I mean shit, s’not fair. Even when you glare at me, it makes me wanna bend you over and fuck you till you cry.”

His words sent a wave of electricity through you, your body aching to touch him, “God Eddie I feel the fuckin’ same. Why do you think I did your chem homework so often? I almost dropped to my knees when you glared at me for taking the last beer last week. Would have let you fuck my throat, no questions asked.”

Eddie smirked, leaning forward and trapping you under him, one of his big hands grabbing your cheeks and squishing them gently, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pout, “God, the mouth on you. That’s another thing I love,” he groaned, pushing two of his fingers against your lips, your mouth opening for him instantly. Satisfaction grew in your chest as his eyes rolled back in his head, a grumble from deep inside him reverberating in the thick silence. “This fuckin’ mouth, princess. God, you can’t understand how many times I’ve thought about making you choke on me while you’re being a mouthy little brat, or fuck, when you pout at me to get what you want?”

“Wan’ it, Eds,” you mumbled against his fingers, pushing yourself deeper on his fingers, gagging slightly as you did.

“Yeah baby? You wanna fuck me? You wanna let me use your throat?” He cooed, making you whine and nod around his fingers. “So needy for me, huh? Such a pretty little thing, and you’re all mine, aren't you?”

You could only nod at him, eyes rolling back as you sucked on them lewdly. “Wan’ be yours,” you slurred, making him laugh, taking his fingers out of your mouth with a pop before wrapping his hand around your throat.

“Baby, you’ve been mine,” he grinned, watching you squirm on his bed. He had dreamed about this moment for years, you were the object of every fantasy he’d ever conjured, but fuck seeing you on his bed was better. He didn’t know if he could go back, but hearing you say that — he knew he didn’t have to. “Wanna know why I cut my finger open, hm? I was so distracted thinking about you I had to get myself off. I was thinking about those tits, that cute ass of yours, and fuck sweetheart, these legs. God these legs,” he groaned, rutting his bulge into your covered core, a pitiful whine coming out of your mouth.

“Please Eddie, I need it,” you pouted at him, your nails digging into his wrist as he tightened his fingers around your throat.

“This is the point of no return, sweet thing. We do this, you let me do this and I will never go back to just being your friend who has to jerk off in the bathroom every time we’re together. We do this and that means we’re together, got it?” He demanded, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

Being with Eddie was all you ever wanted, all you dreamed about. You wanted him to hold you and call you princess and know he meant it; know that it wasn’t a fantasy. “I want you Eddie, I want us. I’ve wanted there to be an us since that stupid campaign where you made me the damsel in distress and you pretended to be The God of Eternal Darkness who corrupted me and caused me to betray the party,” you smiled at him fondly.

“Baby, I know we’re past this now, but that was me flirting with you,” he smiled, patting your cheek, it almost would have felt condescending if the look in his eyes wasn’t so tender.

“Well maybe the mighty dungeon master should learn to be more—“ you rolled your eyes, but his grip on your neck cut you off.

“Now’s not the time to be a fuckin’ brat,” he glared at you, “I’ll give you one more chance before I decide to punish you to be a good girl.”

“Yes master,” you choked out, batting your eyes innocently.

He nearly growled at you, his eyes narrowing as he sucked in a breath. Everything stood still for a moment before his hands were gripping the hem of your shirt, pulling it off your body and flinging it to the side, leaving you breathless.

“You just have to be mouthy don’t you?” He huffed, ripping off your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him. You only had a moment to feel shy before his open palm was coming down on your cunt with a wet crack! You hadn’t even had enough time to process what happened when a broken moan was coming out of you. “I knew it, my dirty girl,” he smirked before his hand came down on the same spot again, “I saw that look on your face when I told you about that porno I saw, and you tried to deny it! But I knew baby, I knew you were perfect for me.”

Shame and lust filled your chest, sending heat up your neck while goosebumps broke out across your skin. Everything about the situation made you feel needy — you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every second of it.

“I’m sorry, master,” you whimpered, but this time, the name was filled with sincerity. You needed him to touch you, to fuck you, and being a brat would get you nowhere with Eddie, you knew that.

“That’s more like it,” he hummed, sitting back on his heels smugly. “Will you let your master take control now? Fuck you like you deserve?”

“Yes, master, please,” you pleaded softly, making him smile at you fondly.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose as he dragged a single digit through your slit, coating it in your essence before bringing it up to his mouth. His finger disappearing behind his lips made you moan, your hips rocking against nothing as you watched him. A startled yelp turned into a moan as his freehand came down on you again, the pressure on your clit making you cry out as you felt the stinging pleasure radiate through you. “Impatient little thing though,” he tutted, removing the finger from his mouth with a shake of his head.

Your eyes rolled back as his wet finger plunged into you slowly, the intrusion not too unfamiliar thanks to the dildo you had hidden in your room, but the warmth of Eddie’s hands on you was shocking. You knew you’d never get over the feeling of his hands splaying out across your skin, or his long fingers inside you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you with a slick, wet sound. The loss of him made you cry out in desperation. His chuckle at your desperate sounds made you narrow your eyes at him, “What, you make cute little sounds, princess,” he smirked, “No need to be asham-ow!” He teased, but you cut him off with a sharp pull of his hair.

“Edward Munson, if you make fun of me while we are having sex ever again, I will make you regret it,” you seethed, and he nodded before grinning.

“So we’re gonna have sex, more than just this once… nice,” he nodded. You let the silence wash over you for a moment before you both were breaking into laughter, tears filling your eyes as he collapsed on top of you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you gasped, “You’re so lucky I’m in love with you.”

“You’re damn right I am, I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive, sweetheart,” he beamed, pushing himself forward to slot his lips over yours, his fingers burying in your hair to pull you closer.

You hummed against his lips, snaking your hands under his shirt, feeling his smooth, warm skin against you. His happy trail brushed over your tummy, making you giggle. He pulled away just enough to pull the Dio shirt over his head before falling back against you, getting his hair in your mouth as you laughed.

“Alright, we need to do something about this,” you mumbled, taking your hands through his hair tenderly, gathering it in a bun at the back of his head before sliding your hair tie off your wrist, and securing it into his curly brown mane. “There, now I can kiss you without getting a hairball,” you teased, but your breath caught in your throat when you saw how he was looking at you.

There was nothing in his eyes but pure, unfiltered love.

“I know I keep makin’ jokes ‘bout it, but if you wanna do this angel, there’s no goin’ back for me,” he sighed, “A-and I don’t mean you can’t say no, because that’s just gross and I’d never do that to anyone, let alone you, but I-I mean if we take this step—“ he rambled, but you cut him off with a soft kiss.

“I know, babe,” you breathed, “And I want to. I want you. I’m just worried it won’t be good for you, because I’m… you know… a virgin,” you shrugged sheepishly.

“Princess, you know I’m a virgin too,” he admitted, eyes softening, “I just watch a lot of porn.”

“I know you do, you dirty pervert,” you rolled your eyes, “But you still fingered that one girl last year, and ate out that other girl at the Hideout, so you have some experience,” you scoffed.

“I think it’s perfect,” he smiled, making you tilt your head in confusion, “We get to learn all of this together. You get to teach me what you like, what feels good,” he mumbled, burying his face into your chest. You felt his tongue on your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he littered kisses across your tits. “And then I’ll teach you what I like,” he whispered before sinking his teeth into your skin, earning a gasp.

“That sounds perfect, Eddie,” you sighed, letting him suck marks into your skin as his hands roamed your body.

His marks eventually trailed down your torso, his tongue mapping your stretch marks as he went, eventually ending up between your legs, a lazy smile on his face as he wedged his shoulders against your thighs. “Do you wanna find out what all the hype is about sweetheart? Gonna let me taste you? I bet you’re fuckin’ sweet,” he groaned unconsciously grinding into the mattress.

“Y-yeah, if you wanna,” you nodded sheepishly.

“Don’t be afraid to pull my hair angel,” he assured you, “And don’t even think about hiding those noises from me. I wanna hear how good you feel. And if you need me to stop, like you really need me to stop, just say hellfire,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Whatever response you had died on your lips as his tongue swept over your slit, a choked moan tearing from your chest. “Eddie, fuck,” you sighed, throwing your head back.

He simply moaned into you, his eyebrows furrowing as you unintentionally tried to wiggle away from him as his hands gripped you tighter, pulling you down so you were immobilized.

You couldn’t think, fuck, you could barely breathe as he ate you messily. The slurping sounds and his grunts were downright nasty but they made your flesh burn with lust. Eddie was everything you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t know you could miss.

Eddie could think of nothing but you — the smell of you, the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of your silky thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair, and the sound of his name and squeals of pleasure leaving your lips. He’d never get over it. He wished he could film if, maybe you’d let him in the future. But then again, why would he need a film if he could just fuck you again? He knew you’d be perfect, perfect for him.

He was obsessed. And he ate you with the same desperation he felt when he watched you casually flirt with other boys, the same desperation that caused him to steal panties out of your bag and fuck his fist whenever you fell asleep in his sheets. This moment was a culmination of years of longing and he refused to let it go to waste.

Eddie memorized every twitch and every moan, every thrust of your hips and which things made you try to run from him. His tongue breaching your fluttering walls made you sigh his name so sinfully he had to stop himself from shoving his hand into his pants, but your desperate whines when he circled your clit were otherworldly.

Because his tongue swirling on your clit felt like heaven; the pleasure was immense, and came quickly, but you knew the sensation would become too much soon, and then you’d be too sensitive to take him properly. You’d experienced it before and you were not letting a pesky bundle of nerves from fucking the man of your dreams.

“Eds, fuck, ‘m goddamn sensitive,” you squeaked, pulling his hair, “Not so much on my clit.”

He hummed and pulled away from your dripping center, eyes glassy and feral with want as your essence covered his chin, nearly running down his neck.

“I was right, sweetheart,” he smirked, “Sweet as I thought,” he said before dropping himself onto you again, trapping you in a filthy kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, teeth clicking against yours as he moaned.

“Please, Eddie, I can’t wait much longer,” you pleaded, “I want you inside me, please.”

Your words had him biting your lip harder than he intended to, accidentally cutting your lip as the metallic taste flooded his mouth. The taste mixed with the remnants of your essence swirling on his tongue made him nearly choke on his need to cum.

“Fuck, gotta be in you,” he slurred, pushing himself up off the bed. His hands shook as he pulled open his belt and nearly ripped his jeans trying to get them off his legs, boxers going with them. Once he had them off he stood at the edge of the bed, panting as he looked you over, before freezing. His eyes went wide before breathing out, “Condom, be right back,” before running into his room. You would have laughed if you didn’t find it so endearing.

He reappeared seconds later, eyes as wild as the grin on his face. But he kept standing at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a distinct hunger in his beautiful brown eyes. “Come on, Eddie, don’tcha wanna fuck me?” You teased, snapping him out of his trance with a moan.

“Baby, I’m tryin’ hard not to blow my load before I’m even inside you,” he said, throwing his head back.

“God that’s hot,” you moaned, “Next time, I want to watch you get yourself off, and I wanna feel you cum on me.”

“If you don’t stop talking it’s gonna become a reality,” he ground out through clenched teeth, glaring at you. You shrugged sheepishly, and he nearly growled in warning before ripping open the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling it on.

In an instant, he was kneeling between your open legs again, rubbing his covered cock between your folds as you choked on your gasps. “Please Eddie, please,” you whined.

He said nothing, just aligned his cock with your hole and began to push himself into you. His thickness took your breath away, making you claw at the sheets and forcing high pitched squeals of pleasure out of you. “That’s right, take it baby, you’re doing so good for me,” he praised absently.

It felt like you were being split open, and it also seemed like he would never end. You knew he was long, and thick, but feeling him stretch you out felt like it took ages. But you loved every second.

You’d heard from other girls that their first times hurt, enough for them to cry or bleed, but this was a gratifying pain. And his hands steadied you, one on your hip and the other toying with your clit lazily.

He bottomed out with a satisfied sigh — he knew you weren’t in any pain. He’d watched you, eyes flicking between your face and his hardness disappearing into you the whole time, waiting for a flash of hurt or discomfort. But he never found it. He knew it — you were made for him.

“Move, do something, fuck, please,” you keened, rocking into him shallowly.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he smirked before thrusting shallowly, watching your face for a reaction. When your moan tumbled out and your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, he began to go harder. Your moans quickly became louder and more desperate, urging him to let go of his restraint.

The sound of skin on skin, your whines, and his deep grunts filled his trailer, drowning out the tape he’d put on when you arrived. His fingers digging into your plush skin was the only thing keeping you coherent, your mouth hanging open as your eyes rolled back.

“That’s right angel, I’m fucking you stupid, aren’t I?” He asked. You could only nod, tears filling your eyes from the pleasure that was growing in your belly. “You’re mine baby, mine. And I’m yours. And I want you to cum for me, can you do that? I’m so close, I just wanna feel you do it for me,” he ranted.

You were sure you could have cum from his words alone, but the look in his eyes — the possessive gleam you couldn’t look away from — pushed you over the edge.

You came with a scream, your walls tightening around him like a vice, which caused him to cum with a shout, his arms giving out as he face planted into your chest with a heaving sigh.

You laid in silence, both catching your breath as he softened inside you. Warmth filled your chest as he traced nonsensical patterns into your sweaty skin, your fingers toying with the curled ends of the hair that had escaped the haphazard bun you’d given him.

“So, is it too early to ask you to marry me?” He joked, sending you both into a fit of giggles.

“Yes, too soon. Take me on a date first then ask me again,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he hummed happily, before he sat up with a gasp. “Babe, I know the perfect song for this,” he exclaimed.

You sighed, going boneless against the sheets. You knew Eddie wouldn’t let it go until he made his point. “Well go on then, I don’t know how—“

“I have waited a lifetime! Spent my time so foolishly, but now that I found you, baby! Together we'll make history! It feels like the first time! It feels like the very first time!” He began singing loudly, pulling your hair tie out of his hair and throwing his head back, shaking out his curls as you rolled your eyes, unable to stop the fond smile growing on your lips.

“You’re gross,” you shook your head, earning a laugh.

“Maybe, but I’m yours. And you’re mine,” he grinned, pressing his lips to yours.

-----

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 days

Text

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Previous chapter

a/n part three! I’m brain dead so sorry for the wait. I hope you will all enjoy this. 🫧🫶🏻

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warning: past trauma, scars, injuries, blood.

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You were sure that your lip was going to burst from the way you kept biting on it, trying to suppress the laugh as the carriage rolled through the misty autumn forest. Convinced that nothing was ever going to top the sight of Azriel, squished the opposite of you. He was scowling so hard that he was most definitely the reason why the sky had ripped open. Pouring rain drowned the lush forest since the early morning. It looked like you were driving to a funeral at best, gruesome execution at best.

“Don’t start with me today," Azriel grunts, his eyes burning into yours. Yet now that he acknowledged you, the smile only seemed to spread wider. He lets out a grunt, and a quiet giggle slips past your lips. "Princess, life suits you," you mumble, making Azriel roll his eyes. “Come on now; it’s not so bad. Don’t huff”, you nudge his leg with your heel, earning yet another glare.

“Could have winnowed us there”, “You did almost all the way”, you point out. And you would have happily obliged, but the murmurs about something being wrong with the high lord’s family had started. So Lucien and Eris had made their outing. If not for the rain, you would have done just the same. Take a walk through the main streets. But now seeing the family carriage and your face through the glass would have to be enough.

“Why do you hate autumn so much?”, It’s a bold statement to make. You’re not sure if he even hates it. Well, considering the amount of frowning he does, he has to. “I have my reasons," Azriel answers as bluntly as he can. “Care to elaborate?", you turn to him, ready to dig an answer out of him if you had to. He owned you, considering his creeping around your room. But your eyes fall on the way he’s trying to subtly rub his palms together. The scarred skin—humidity must be making the bones ache too. He’s impossible to read, but you’re convinced that the discomfort hunts some of his features. You don’t care. You shouldn’t care, yet you still inch closer. There’s not much space inside the carriage considering that man’s size, but it’s enough for you to brush your legs against him. As expected, Azriel’s hands instantly reached to put distance between you both. But that’s when you yank the side of your cloak up, draping the fur-lined material over his scared palms.

“What are you?", "Shhhh," you say quickly. He tries to pull them out, but you catch his gaze—a daring look there. “Know your”, but you cut him off once more, “Next words out of your mouth better be, thank you, princess," you muse. Azriel clenches his jaw. But he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t fight the warmth slowly seeping through the stiff skin. “I thought you hated that nickname, princess," he says. One thing this man hadn’t learned in life was dealing with women. Clearly. You shrug, “Not so bad when it’s you who calls me that," you muse, watching as a glimpse of surprise washes over his features, and then the scowling coldness returns.

Azriel doesn’t like it here. The thought alone had unsettled him ever since Lucien had announced the need to go back. “The High Lord needs to make a statement," Lucien had stated. Azriel itched to say that Eris wasn’t his high lord. But he knew that regardless of Eris’s wishes, he would have gone. Because you were going there. So here he was, standing outside the forest house. Not daring to go forward alone. You had waved him off. Told him to go inside while you checked on the horses. But he refused to step inside. So he stood there, trying to memorize every window.

“Who’s snooping now?", your voice fills Azriel’s ear as he slowly turns to you. Arms crossed as you grin at him. He wonders why you hadn’t mentioned that night in your room. Why you brushed it off so easily. “I just needed to stretch my wings." It’s not so much of a lie. It had been a disaster of a trip here. You barely manage to open your lips when an unfamiliar voice comes from behind, “Yn, Yn.“

Azriel pushes you behind him, his hand reaching for his dagger. But you slip out of his grasp, glancing over his shoulder. And then you’re stepping forward. “Makoa?”, it’s a whisper, and Azriel doubts that a disheveled-looking boy would hear it. But he does. And that name alone makes Azriel uneasy. The same boy you had sneaked out with. And just like that Azriel decides that he hates Makoa.

"Wait," you push again Azriel's arm, but his grip doesn’t falter. “Anyone can be a threat," the spymaster points out. “I know him," and it’s the desperation that makes Azriel back up. The same one that he had when he called out to Mor. To Elain. The lost kind. One that had you hanging up on things that weren’t there.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Makoa mutters once he is in arms reach of you. Azriel has to bite his tongue because nothing about that statement seems genuine. “You can imagine it’s been busy over here," and your voice is different too. Hazy almost. You bite at Azriel. Spewing venom. And here, this boy makes you behave like a youngling with your first-ever crush. “You could have written to me; I’ve missed you." Makoa raises his hand, and Azriel instantly inches to step forward, but then the boy is leaning in, his lips brushing over yours. Making Azriel lower his head. A strange sort of feeling brews within him. One that’s not welcome here. So he turns back onto his heel, heading deeper into the woods. To clear his consciousness. His logical thinking. His heart.

“Everyone missed you," Makoa points out, your hands clasped in his. The feeling is strange. It’s all so wrong because, yes, he has been vocal about courting you, but this… To be kissed in front of someone he doesn’t even know. You glance back. Eyes scanning the front gardens. He’s not there. Azriel isn’t there, and a dreadful sort of uneasiness pools in your stomach.

“It’s just been a couple of days," you brush his statement off. You were trying to find joy in something you had dreamed of ever since you slipped that book beneath the floorboards. “You’re behaving strangely," Makoa mutters, his hand reaching out for your forehead, but you bat it away. “I’m just tired," but you’re more than tired. You need answers, and quite frankly, you’re willing to do about anything to get them.

You can trust the man in front of you. His mother used to do laundry for your family. Until Beron changed his mind or whatever happened. As if reading your mind, Makoa reaches up, cupping your cheek, “What is it you can tell me?" A part of you is screaming to just drop it. Talk to Azriel first. But then he wasn’t there. He wouldn’t know.

“Do you remember the night on the harvest moon, well after it?”, you say quietly, looking over your shoulder for servants. “I walked you home," Makoa shrugs. Well, he did more than that, but sure, that will do for now. “Someone was waiting for me," you admit. “I didn’t go inside; I went to the barn to feed the horses." It was misty and cold outside. You didn’t catch their face. Just a hooded figure.

“I... someone tried to slice my throat open." Brushing your hair to the side, you let the white line shine in the midday sun. Makoa watches. But he doesn’t frown. There’s almost no reaction. Azriel looked more concerned when you caught him brushing his fingers over it that night. Genuine concern. Or maybe you were just imagining it.

Makoa brings you into his chest. “What a shame," he breathes out, and your hands are instantly pushing against his chest. "Pardon," you huff, brows knit together. “I mean, it’s horrible, yes," he says, lifting his arms in defiance. You shake your head. Too tired. Too tired for this. After all, you didn’t expect him to take you seriously. He was too wild. Too carefree for that.

"Look, just be careful, okay?", you mutter, your eyes searching him, but he only shoots you a wicked smile. “You don’t have to worry about me," he muses. You burn to tell him that you both are no longer kids. There are serious matters, but you don’t have it in you to fight another battle today. “I’ll see you in the party," you say as you step back, letting your fingers slip out of his grasp. But then he’s pulling you back. Hand on the side of your face. An eager kiss smothered against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss the spectacle.”

Azriel’s task this weekend was easy. If he was being honest, he didn’t quite grasp why exactly he was asked to come. But then Eris might have just done it to spite him. All he was responsible for was keeping an eye on you when Eris and Lucien couldn’t. So essentially, babysit a grown woman. Now he was standing with his back against your door. Throwing his knife up and down in his hands. Trying to beat his record of spins before it lands back into his palm.

“Okay, am...", your voice breaks the second-floor silence, making Azriel pause. “Can you get Maria?”, Azriel shakes his head even if you can’t see him, “She just went outside for the flower arrangements." The elderly woman had pinched his cheek way too many times, but as much as he hated it, she reminded Azriel of his own mom.

"Fuck," the sound of things falling inside the room, makes Azriel press his ear to the door.“What’s going on?”, he demands. Silence falls. “I...", you start, but it ends with a frustrated sigh. “Well, let’s hear it," he muses, hoping for yet another privileged little dig he could throw back at you.

“I can’t reach the back of the dress to do the..." It’s a whisper. A frustrated one at that. “We have twenty minutes," Azriel points out. “I know, tree man, I know," you growl in frustration, cursing to yourself as you continue to struggle.

“I'm coming in," Azriel states, instantly frowning at his own words. "No, you are not," you snarl, and he is sure that you are frowning. “On three," the spymaster warns. But he doesn’t even get a chance to start the countdown. “Fucking, Azriel,” you say, yanking the door open. Rosy cheeks. Slightly disheveled hair. And that deep red satin dress. So far different from the one he had seen you in the first time you both met. That was a girl. This… You were meant to be in red. In…

“Eyes up here, moron," you say, reaching up to flick his nose. One arm holding the material upfront. You turn away from him. The smooth back exposed to his scared hands. Azriel shakes those thoughts away. “I’ve seen females before," he states, reaching for the golden buttons. “Really? I would have taken you for a virgin," you snort, shaking your head ever so slightly. Azriel fake gasps, earning a glimmer in your eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”, he says in the most dramatic way possible. You bite your lip, trying to hide that smile. He knows it. Feels it.

“Just do the dress up," you urge him, motioning to your back. Azriel halts, letting his hands drop to his side. “Start with a please," he says proudly. You glance up at him, “Are you being serious?” Surely a man who just completed about the amount of time you had wasn’t going to start playing games. “I decided that etiquette lessons are in order," he shrugs, making you roll your eyes. “I will spit in your drink tonight. How is that for your etiquette lessons?” You flash him one of your fake smiles. “Delightful, just how I like it," and it’s so unexpected that you are left slack-jawed for a split second, and then he grabs your shoulder and turns you around, nudging you forward. “You’re disgusting," you say, pushing your heel against his leg, making a little rumble of laughter fill the space. “Says you," he breathes practically against your skin, sending shivers down your back.

You fidget with your sleeve as you and Azriel make your way towards the main part of the event. Public outings still felt strange. The big crowd overwhelmed you. But you had missed out on so many great things and parties, especially when you were growing up. That now….

“Only a weirdo disappears like that," you halt suddenly, leaving Azriel to walk along until he too stops. Turning to face you. You quickly put a finger against your lips, stepping closer to the second-floor railing. “That’s what I told Makoa”. You know those voices. You don’t even need to look down the staircase to know who they belong to.

“Daddy beat her, I heard," and it’s like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you. Tingles spread through your body like fire.“ She lived beneath the floorboards; I doubt she knows how to interact with living things." You let the words slash at you. After so many years, they don’t make a difference. It’s the fact that every time you feel as if you found someone willing to look past it, they still end up stabbing you in the back.

That’s when your eyes fall on Azriel, practically charging towards the stairs. "Don't," you hiss, reaching to grab at his wrist, pulling him back. “It’s disrespectful, and I’m being very polite with my words here," he grunts. Venom. Purest of venom painting his features, and yet you cut him off. “I said don't," you step in front of him, pressing your palms against his chest. “It’s just another joke for them. You throwing a fit and acting all gruff won’t change a thing.”

Azriel watches you for a moment before a bitter laugh crawls up his throat. “And those are your friends? People that you think are not a threat to you? ”, he points downstairs in frustration. A wave of guilt. Shame. Fills you in seconds. You feel that familiar sting in your eyes. But you brush it beneath all the other pain. “Daddy got them for me; I didn’t have a chance to choose; my apologies," you purr through gritted teeth.

And it’s as if you threw a comeback punch. The arrow shooting once again. Azriel’s shoulders sag. “Yn...", he breathes out, but you don’t want it. Don’t want pity. The sad eyes. The smothering. To hell with it. “We should go find my brothers." You pick at the skirt of your dress, turning to the stairs. “It was insensitive of me," Azriel’s words slam into the wall you had built, making you close your eyes for a moment. “Don’t get tangled in this; this has nothing to do with you," you mutter, not turning back to face him. Forcing your legs forward. Azriel stands at the top of the staircase for a heartbeat, watching you. Then he glances over his shoulder. One heartbeat. Two. And he unleashes his shadows to the first floor.

The terrace is buzzing with people. If it were up to Azriel, he would be right by the platform, but there are Eris’s guards here. So he’s just standing by. That prick had it in him to suggest wine. Azriel, of course, took it. Before dumping it right next to Eris’s shoes. Rhys told him to behave, yes. And so he was, because the second option was to punch the fireling in his face. Pick and choose.

Azriel catches a glimpse of you. Well, more like all he had been doing was catching glimpses of you. Like a moth to a flame. Even if he tells himself not to, his eyes always seem to find you. That distant look in your eyes. Like you’re not here, even if your body is. He also doesn’t doubt that it’s partly because of the things the people said. Why not fight back? You seem to be fine doing that when it comes to him. But crumple the moment the people who are meant to be closest to you are involved.

As if by coincidence, your eyes glance up, meeting Azriel’s. He should be scowling, yet he finds himself smiling. Just a little. He puts a finger beneath his chin, pushing it higher. Encouragement of sorts. You’re supposed to radiate power, not look like a damsel in distress. You return it with an eye roll, making the corners of Azriel’s lips curve even more. Deny it or not. You do lift your head up. That tingle of fire blazing just a bit brighter. That will do. It would have to be enough to get you through it.

The music dies, and Eris walks close to the platform edge, that fox-line smile on his face. “It’s an honor to have you all here, so I thank you for finding time to join us," the high lord begins. “I know that the court is facing some challenging times, but you should not be afraid." Azriel crosses his arms over his chest as he listens. “I will do everything that is in my power to protect our people and be a true and fair high lord." Then the Autumn High Lord turns back breathy. “And... I’ll have my family to aid me in these matters," motioning for his two siblings to come to stand closer. “Lucien and Y/n Vanserra will be taking their rightful place on the throne." The crowd explodes with chairs and joyful applause. As the three siblings smile in unison.

“And…”, But there’s no and. Nothing comes after it. As if someone had stolen all of the other promises. Azriel feels it too. It hits his senses. Making them restless. There’s something wrong. Something that doesn’t feel right. A banner behind the platform bursts into flames. The hot tongues, lapping at the family insignia. Some people back up. Eris waves for his guards, ordering them into action. People are bringing buckets full of water while Eris and Lucien try to wield the wildfire.

It’s the lightest of the sounds that follow next. It flickers, and... "Y/n," Azriel calls, making you snap your head sideways. “Y/n," he breathes out, and then he’s winnowing. His hands already stretched out. He has to make it. He will make it. There is no other option. So Azriel doesn’t let the what-ifs set in. Shrieks echo. Chaos breaks out. And then he’s up there. On the platform. One arm behind your body, the other on the arrow.

The time stops. Your wide eyes are looking at him. Green so deep that Azriel knows he has never seen anything like it. The freckles seem even darker now that your skin has paled almost to snow white. His fingers are trembling. He can’t see it. Can’t fucking see it; the bunched-up fabric is making it hard to judge. Had the arrow met its target? Your heart seems to beat beneath his palm. But are those the last beats? Then the red fabric turns an even deeper shade of red.

Every muscle tenses in Azriel’s body. "No," he mutters under his breath. He’s not letting you die just like that. Not on his watch. Not in some pointless death just because someone has a bone to pick with your brother. Your eyelashes flutter, and just for a heartbeat, Azriel is too slow to catch you. Your body sags, but the arrow stays there in Azriel’s head. It didn’t meet its target. Not fully, at least. Just nicked the skin. It feels as if someone rolled a mountain off of his chest.

"Azriel," it’s so light he almost misses it. The plea. The fear. Your fingers reach up for his leg. His darkness swirls around you both. And quite frankly, the spymaster is not too sure as to what’s going on outside. The world might as well be going to shit for all he cares. Kneeling, Azriel takes hold of your trembling hands, “I’ve got you, darling; I won’t let anything happen to you." He’s not sure if you even hear him. Eyes fixed on something as if you’re looking right past him.“I'm here; I'm with you," Azrie promises, moving to drape your arms over his shoulders. “Are you with me, love?” You’ve gone into shock, that he can tell. Yet you blink. Fingers gripped onto his flying leathers as you nod. "Good," he says, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “Hold onto me, fireheart”.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @emryb @glitterypirateduck @xxtakeachancexx @justyouraveragekleemain @5onedirection5 @paleidiot

#azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #acotar x you #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x reader

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tubbytarchia · 1 month

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Sorry I'm still feeling dread about maid Jimmy. Poorly made comic thing under cut

Sorry this is gonna take up space but I really wanted it to be viewed as intended and such... I put it under read-more though so no one can complain!!

My art block is as strong as ever and killing me but I'm feeling so emotional and dreadful about that last SOS episode still, I forced my way through it lol. Joel wasn't there when it went down (I'm so fucking glad), which made me think of this instead and uh yeah I'm. Fuck man I dont even care about SOS that much!!!! This has ruined me

The way Pix (didn't really do anything wrong btw) made Jimmy dig a hole because he owed him for saving his life, and then Sausage comes in "aha!!!" and obligates Jimmy to do something for him too, quickly disregarding any uncertainty on Jimmy's half and shifting it onto Jimmy with "You actually reminded me that you owe me" (paraphrasing) grrrrr. And tbf he did talk about dancing at that point, but later Jimmy was clearly made to believe that he'd only be serving drinks and then Sausage goes "you're serving YOURSELF!" GRRRRRRR sorry this is just minecraft I know I know. I'm reading to deep into it yaada yaada. But no fuck that I want Jimmy to be happy and not to be made feel like he owes people things even if they saved him, I don't want Jimmy to talk like he's about to cry, I don't want him to be talked down to, I don't want him to feel like he has no room to object and has to just listen to others or expect to be treated a certain way hardwired into his brain, I don't want his abrasiveness to be more of a sought reaction to bullying/teasing/etc rather than a sign of the confidence he used to have, he's been through enough!!!! I hate this why can't I just awooga at maid Jimmy. That'd make things so much easier. Alas the horrors

#fuck it main tag fuck this!! I put a read-more so I'm alleviated of everything totally #I'm ashamed but. I see what other type of content gets maintagged anyway and that makes me feel better about my own #jimmy solidarity #Im so emotional Im SO emotional about him stop me please #This is just FH again for me my god Jimmy's been through enough!!#tubby art #Joel IS here but I hope to god no one complains about this as if it were shipping just because he's standing opposite of maid Jimmy #I do fucking love them as a duo a lot though (bad boy Grain erasure oops). Need to draw them more... for the betterment of the soul

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purpleqilinwrites · 7 months

Text

first.

a/n: these days have been feeling yucky to me (unrelated to fandom), so i wrote a little nanami thing to cheer myself up.

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

character: nanami kento

genre: fluff

info: established relationship (nanami is your husband); reader is also a jujutsu tech alumnus

warnings: high school dumbassery

synopsis: allegedly, gojou was your first kiss. allegedly.

word count: 1.3k

Nanami Kento

"Can I help you?" you asked, your smile evident in your tone as you looked at Nanami from over the novel in your hands.

There was a certain sullenness that knitted his brows together, one you recognised as being a symptom of having a few too many necessary interactions with a certain white-haired sorcerer. Nanami slumped backwards into the armchair, running a hand down his face with a tired sigh. You chuckled lightly to yourself as you waited for him to speak, eyes fixed on the words on the page in front of you but not reading any of them.

"Gojou-san said something to me as I was leaving the school, and I'd like you to confirm or deny it," Nanami said, finally.

You let out a thoughtful hum, slotting an expired stamp card into your novel before closing it and leaving it on the coffee table. "And what did he say?" you asked, feeling the beginnings of a strain in your cheeks as your smile widened, anticipating.

Gojou did say the damnedest things sometimes.

Nanami groaned, his hand immediately going to his already loosened tie to tug it off his neck. The collar of his dress shirt fell open in the absence of the tie, and you allowed yourself to be distracted by his Adam's apple for a second before bringing your attention back to the increasingly interesting conversation you were having.

"Before I say anything else, I want you to know that I'm asking purely for curiosity's sake."

You nodded along, urging him to continue. He let out a long exhale as a means of pause, and you mirrored the break in his words to settle into a more comfortable position on the couch, still anticipating.

Nanami was uncharacteristically hesitant with his words, as though he was rephrasing himself several times before anything could leave his tongue. When your husband was like this, it brought to remembrance a younger version of him who tended to cut himself off in the middle of sentences because he wasn't satisfied with how his thoughts came out. He had always been more careful when he was speaking to you.

You mentally put aside a reminder to buy some kikufuku for the sole purpose of eating the whole box in front of Gojou and not sharing. If you felt particularly devious when the day came, you could always flick some of the rice flour left at the bottom of the box at him. Maybe leave a suspicious white handprint or two on his back for his students to pester him about.

"Of course," you said, still smiling, still waiting. "But please, just say what's on your mind. I don't think I can take much more of this mystery."

"Gojou-san seemed to be under the impression that he was your first kiss. He said—"

You couldn't contain the violent cackling that boiled over your lips, slapping your hands on your thighs and folding over in your seat. "I'm-I'm sorry! Hah! Please— Go on," you said, your words coming out in pieces as you tried to stop laughing long enough to hear Nanami out.

He sighed at the sight of you misty-eyed and happy, a fond smile pulling on his lips.

While you busied yourself with wiping your tears on the ends of your sleeves, Nanami stood and stepped around the coffee table to sit beside you. You moved to swing your legs over his lap when you felt the couch dip with the addition of his weight, scooting close enough to prop your cheek on his shoulder. His hand naturally came to rest on your hip, and he leaned in to press a few kisses into your hair.

"That's what you wanted to know?" you asked, eyes bright and still slightly out of breath.

Nanami regarded your face for a moment, silently admiring you. His other hand came to cup your jaw and you obliged him, your mouth pliant against the insistent press of his.

"Is it true?" came your husband's voice, his breath warm on your face. You shook your head, chasing his lips and relishing how they curved into a smile against yours.

"But I did kiss Gojou once," you said, breaking the string of saliva with your finger as you reclined into the backrest of the couch. The pleased expression on Nanami's face immediately soured terribly. He motioned for you to elaborate before placing a hand on your thigh, squeezing lightly.

"It was in the first year of high school, sometime at the beginning of the school year," you started, laughing when Nanami's eyebrows shot up. "My first kiss was actually Shouko. After, I kissed Getou and then Gojou. All on the same day."

The pinch of his lips told you that he was still processing this revelation, so you waited. It was a lot to process even for you, when you suddenly remembered it when the school year came to an end. Three people you kissed in one day, simply because Gojou hounded the rest of you to "live life a little".

You idly smoothed the palm of your hand over the muscular plane of Nanami's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of it as he breathed.

"You kissed all of your classmates? And on the same day?" he asked, incredulous. You nodded to both questions, your smile turning sheepish. Nanami's hand on your thigh squeezed again, more firmly this time, as if there was some written confirmation in your skin about the time you kissed three other people who weren't him.

"Tell me how it happened."

You blinked.

"Are you disappointed?" you asked, already looping your arms around Nanami's torso and tucking your head under his chin, an offering. He dropped a kiss into your hair and let his lips linger there, a quiet reminder that you never needed to fear him harbouring such feelings against you.

If anything, he was disappointed in all three of your classmates for whatever transpired in those early months of your time in Jujutsu Tech. In Ieiri, Getou, and especially Gojou.

"No matter what, I love you, remember?" was the promise that he whispered into your hair, a reprise of the firm promise he gave you on your wedding day.

You giggled, repeating the words into his collarbone. It tickled him, both the feeling of your breath on his exposed skin and the assurance that you felt loved in his arms.

"Gojou started it," you said, and it made perfect sense. Nanami had suspected as much when he first heard the words from Gojou's lips. Of course, it was his upperclassman's fault. "He was convinced that having a 'kiss fest', as he called it, would be a good bonding experience for everyone. Like it was something normal to do in high school."

You left room for him to ask questions, knowing him and knowing that he'd definitely want to know more. Mentally, you replayed the whole 'kiss fest' and everything that led up to it, catching yourself by surprise with how crisp some of the details were in your mind's eye. It was a thing that you happened to participate in while you were in high school, completely uneventful and entirely disregarded.

After all, the best part of your high school years was meeting your husband. Everything else was just happenstance, smooth rocks that marked out the road that led to him.

"Did you enjoy it?" was the question that pulled you from your reminiscing.

You put your finger to your chin in thought. "Based on what? Like, taste or something?" you asked, drawing a blank when you pondered how best to answer the question posed to you. You knew when it came to him there was no wrong way to say things. It was more that you wanted to properly convey how little those three kisses meant to you.

It was Nanami's turn to laugh, the sound warm and inviting you to do the same. You brushed away the stray golden strands falling in his face, taking in the handsome image before you and committing it to memory.

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808airsoftbros · 11 months

Text

The Contract (Yves) (S) (BXG)

Author: If you would like to see more of my works please check out my Masterlist

???’s POV

Oh, what a world... What am I going to do with my baby...? I’m on the verge of death and my baby is due today. If I die, it won’t be long until I take him along with me and I don’t want that to happen.

I tried begging the doctors and nurses for alternate options but all they suggested was either abortion or sending my son to an adoption center.

I hate to do either one because I want the absolute best life for my son but unfortunately, fate is so cruel that I won’t be able to grant him that.

Interrupting my thoughts, a nurse comes inside my room to inform me that I have a visitor.

“Greetings, are you Miss Kim?” A strange woman asked.

Looking at the woman, she was wearing a formal black dress with high heels, holding onto a clipboard and folder containing some forms.

But her beauty was something else, just one look at her face can make any men fall on their knees.

“Y-Yes, that would be me...” I nervously answered and she warmly smiled.

“Excellent, allow me to introduce myself, I am Sister Ha Sooyoung of LOONA, we are Vampires that answer to dying parent's prayers and luckily, I heard yours so I came.” She explained and my eyes widened.

Obviously, there was much to take in as I never thought Vampires existed and that they help people in need.

“H-How can I trust that any harm will come to my son?” I asked.

“By signing this contract... Once we sign it, I am obligated to give your son the best life possible as you asked. I will share him with all of my love and my sisters will also help look after him for you. Not only that, he’ll be granted the gift of immortality.” She explained to me and I nodded.

Reading the terms on the contract, all of the words are cursive but I was able to read them.

“Are there any questions, you wish to ask me?” She asked.

“No, I find all the terms acceptable, but please promise me that you’ll look after my baby,” I said and she nodded.

“You have my solemn vow, your son will be in good hands and you can rest easy knowing he’ll be safe and in happy times,” She assured and I take the pen from the clipboard.

Signing my name on the bottom part of the contract, Sooyoung does the same, thus putting the contract into immediate effect.

After that, I make my decision to the doctor that I’ll put my son’s custody toward Ha Sooyoung after my death and they begin the procedure.

Yves’s POV

Beginning the procedure, the doctors rolled Miss Kim into the operation room to begin the surgery.

As a contract Vampire, this is the most difficult part of raising a mate, witnessing the loss of their mothers.

Even though we are cold-hearted beings, we still feel sympathy for their sacrifice and deaths.

Regardless, this is all for a good cause and for doing what is best for their children so that we can grant them a better life.

After waiting for a few hours, the doctors called me into the room, as soon as I opened the door I heard the loud sounds of Miss Kim’s son crying.

Unfortunately, as expected, there were no vital signs coming from Miss Kim as she deceased right after the operation was complete.

“Miss Sooyoung, here is your adopted son, do you perhaps have a name for him?” The nurse asked as she handed over my baby.

“Ha Y/N,” I answered and she nodded.

Writing down the reports and details of the operation in the medical records of the hospital, I was dismissed.

Thanking the medical staff for their efforts, I left the building, and waiting for me outside at the pick-up area was sister Park Chaewon but we usually call her Gowon.

Hopping into the backseat, I put the seatbelt around my body, and Gowon greeted me.

“Hello, sister Yves, how was it?” She asked.

“The contract is signed by the mother, Ha Y/N is now in my care,” I answered.

“And the mother?” She asked and I sighed.

“Passed...” I softly answered as I breastfeed him.

“Sorry to hear that, but at least he’ll be in good care under your hands,” She commented and I nodded.

Starting up the car, she drives onto the main city road, and back to our domain in the small neighborhood.

It was a three-story manor, the first floor is where we run Loona’s Bakery & Treats, we came up with the idea as baking was one of our biggest strong points.

Both humans and Vampires come to buy from our shop for bread, cake, ice cream, you name it, and it’s all made from scratch.

Anyway, enough advertisement, Gowon parks the SUV inside the garage where we store many of our sports cars and such.

“Welcome home, sister Yves, is this the newest member of our family?” Lady Haseul greeted me and I nodded.

“Yes, my lady, this is Ha Y/N, my mate and baby,” I answered.

“Well, isn’t he the cutest~? Such a healthy and lively child, well done on the contract, sister Yves, and I’m sorry for the loss,” She replied and I nodded.

“His mother sacrificed her life for this child and I’m not going to let it go in vain,” I assured.

“As you should not, come on, it’s time to swear to the creed,” She replied and I followed her inside the manor.

We head inside the sacred chamber where we hold our rituals and oaths. Repeating and swearing the words of the creed, I felt chills down my spine as I knew this was one of the biggest turning points of my life.

Finishing the ritual, Y/N was now officially under my care, sadly, there was no time to celebrate as we have the bakery shop to run.

Placing my precious Y/N on my bed for his daily nap, I go downstairs to join Olivia, Yeojin, Heejin, and Hyunjin in the kitchen.

“Oh, sister Yves, thank the Lord, you came! It’s quite busy today! The new malasada recipe was genius!” Olivia greeted me and I nodded.

“That’s good news to hear, now let’s get to baking!” I replied as I wrapped an apron around my body and put on black gloves.

Working on making the dough, I made sure the ingredients are fresh and not out of date.

Placing the finished dough on a baking tray, I handed it over to Hyunjin who was in charge of operating the ovens.

“Hot tray! Hot tray!” Hyunjin called out as she maneuvers herself through the kitchen holding two hot pans of sheet cakes.

------------------------------------

TIMESKIP

When the sun started to set and serving the last customer in our shop, we closed up the shop for the day and cleaned up the kitchen.

Since we were all Vampires, we take advantage of our super speed abilities to sweep and mop up the floors and wipe the tables, ovens, and all the kitchen equipment.

Once we were finished cleaning, we counted up all the money we’d made from the entire day and made orders for ingredients.

“Damn... If I’m not wrong I counted over a hundred million won! That’s beyond our sales goals!” Hyunjin mentioned.

“That’s great news! Lady Haseul will be pleased to hear about it. We have more than enough to ensure our babies are well-fed for the night.” Heejin replied.

“Well, you two cook dinner for your husbands they should be old enough to eat solid foods. The rest of us will retire for the night.” I ordered and they nodded.

Heading up the stairs, I slowly opened the door to my room to prevent waking Y/N up and disturbing his sleep.

I grabbed my change of clothes for Y/N and me, we won’t be able to shower together yet as he was too young.

Stripping off my clothes, and placing them inside the laundry basket, I step inside the tub which also serves as a shower as there’s a head above me.

Turning the knob for cold water as it’s good for my body have my blood run through my veins easier and go into my brain.

The cold water doesn’t affect me much as I can pretty much handle extreme temperatures.

After I was done, I put on a robe and gently carry my baby and place him in the small tub that I bought from the store earlier, filled it with lukewarm water, and carefully place Y/N inside the tub.

He didn’t cry nor make any sound as I was washing his tiny body making his cleaning smoother and in no time, I finished.

Drying him up, I wrapped him up in a warm towel, brushed my teeth, and lay down on my bed with Y/N feeding from my right boob.

It was funny and adorable seeing him all milk drunk with a small smile with a trance of my breast milk on his lip.

Placing the blanket over us, I lay Y/N beside my head so I can an eye on him for the night.

“Goodnight, honey~,” I whispered before pecking his forehead.

After the night was over, the sun started to rise starting a new morning, Y/N woke up crying which woke me up.

Picking him up, I started my morning breastfeeding him as he was hungry, looking at the clock on the wall it was around four in the morning.

Today I was off from work since we all switch, giving me the entire day to spend with my husband.

Deciding to read him some stories, letting him explore his nest, biting and tasting everything that he could find but I kept a constant eye on him to make sure he doesn’t chock or bite anything that is dangerous like wiring and sharp objects.

Six months passed, and Y/N has grown bigger, he could lean on his hands and could crawl but he was still too young to walk.

Unfortunately, he did catch a fever once but it wasn’t severe so it only took about three weeks to recover.

Each month, we would get visits from a doctor to perform monthly medical checkups and ensure that all of our children are in good health.

While I was observing his behavior, I noticed he was starting to develop social skills and begin to recognize my sisters.

This was all expected, so none of it was a surprise but I can’t help but coo at his adorable social developments. I wish he can stay as a baby forever.

A few years later, he was not a toddler, he learned how to walk on his own without me holding his hand every time and start eating solid foods.

Heejin and Hyunjin were already starting homeschooling their husbands when they were about four years old.

Y/N was growing up so fast it makes me wanna cry, seeing your husband grow so big and handsome.

Finally, after years of hardship and schooling, he was of age, even though Y/N was granted the opportunity to explore the world and choose his life he decides to remain here.

However, throughout his teen years, he began to develop hormones and I caught him many times staring at my body whenever we showered together which is exactly what I wanted... Him being addicted to only me.

Tonight, on his eighteenth birthday, we celebrated his birthday and threw a party. After the party was over, we went to the bedroom to rest but I have different plans in mind... I put on black lingerie as I knew he has a thing for black revealing clothing.

I put on a robe, come out of the bathroom as Y/N was waiting for me on the bed, and when he looks at me his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“Like what you see, baby~?” I seductively asked and he didn’t say a word as he was too shocked.

Pushing his back onto the bed, I take off my robe and slowly crawled toward him and I saw his ten-inch penis coming to life.

“N-Noona, what are you doing?” He nervously asked and I giggled.

“What’s the matter? You’ve seen me naked numerous times yet you still get flustered~.” I pointed it out and he gulped.

Latching my lips onto his, forcing him to roughly make out with me, he places his hand on my cheek and the other hand on my ass.

Rubbing his shorts covering his cock, we let go before we run out of breath, and I take off his shirt and shorts leaving him in his underwear.

“Do you want mommy to suck your dick~?” I asked him and he viciously nodded.

“Hehe~. Anything for my special baby~,” I replied before sliding off his underwear.

Letting loose his cock, I could only admire it as I’ve scored gold for raising him, I licked it bottom to up making him moan and I take his length in my mouth before bobbing up and down.

“God, you’re so incredible!” He said before moaning and I smirked.

“I’m so close!” He warned and I speed up until he came in my mouth.

Savoring his cum in my mouth it tasted delicious until I swallowed it but I wasn’t satisfied just yet.

Taking off my lingerie revealing my nude body, he places his hands on my boobs and sucked on my right tit making me moan.

“Yes, baby, it’s all yours~!” I moaned.

Afterward, I sat on his face making him lick my womanhood and I screamed out of ecstasy as I felt his tongue hitting my G spot.

“I’m so close, baby, I want you to drink mommy’s special dessert~!” I demanded and I came into his mouth.

Getting off his face, I looked down to make sure that he drank all of it, and when he opened his mouth, I was satisfied with the result.

Moving onto the main event, I slowly insert his dick into my pussy making me moan at how huge he was.

Feeling my walls tightly grip his dick, I bounce up and down riding his cock, making it the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.

Switching positions into doggy style with his dick still inside of me, I tell him to pound me as hard as he can to show his love for his mommy.

“Ah! Ah! That’s it! Show how much you love your mommy~!” I screamed.

“You’re so tight, Mommy ~!” He moaned as he fucks me.

Holding in my cum as best as I could as I wanted to save it for the end until he warned me that he was starting to get close.

“Do it~! Do it inside of me~! I want your babies~!” I tell him before moaning.

Gathering all of his strength and energy he plunges his dick deep inside of me before cumming and I felt a warm sensation in my womb.

Collapsing onto the messy bedsheets, he buries his face into my breasts making me giggle.

“You did amazing, baby~,” I complimented before pecking his forehead.

“Can you blame me? You have such a gorgeous body, I couldn’t resist,” He pointed out and I smiled.

“That’s what I like to hear, now get some rest, you need to restore your energy because mommy is going to want a repeat tomorrow night~,” I replied and he fell asleep into my chest.

With the contract being in effect for eternity, he was now forever mine as I belong to him. I will forever cherish and love Y/N with all my heart and my life.

#loona #loona yves #loona scenarios #vampire #vampire loona #x male reader #bxg #kpop #kpop idol #kpop gg #yves #ha sooyoung #vampire!yves #yves x male reader #yves scenarios #loona images

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brigoesrahhh · 9 months

Text

"Main Attraction"

Jonathan Ohnn / The Spot x f!Reader.

Part one, Part two, Part three.

1.8k words.

Summary: While Jonathan showed you around the science lab, you were busy thinking about other things. One thing leads to another… and suddenly you're making out.

After walking around the lab for around an hour, you were starting to get a little tired. You didn't typically do this much walking at your sit-down office job, but it was nice to have a change of scenery.

A lot has changed for you recently. It was almost becoming a pattern with Jonathan.

Like the way he would stand closer to you when you strayed a little too far from him, adoring the sight of you fascinated by a model of his work. You were so interested and intrigued by the nerdy science shit he thought would bore you. But there you stood, staring at a diorama of the collider and trying to figure out which pieces represented what.

It was all so different.

After watching you take in the small model, he was curious to see your reaction to the real thing.

He walked you over to an open hallway, displaying the super-collider blocked off with a glass barrier.

“So this is the main attraction: Kingpin’s super-collider.” He sighs at the brief mention of his boss. “It’s pretty top secret, so I’m not allowed to tell you much, but essentially, you can bring stuff from other multiverses through it. It’s pretty crazy,” he chuckles in a bit of his own disbelief. “I just run experiments to see how the machine’s working and test out what it can do. Pretty cool, huh?” He looks over at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

So this is why he was so stressed. And rightfully so, because wow — you never would’ve guessed that this is what all of the plans at Alchemax were based on. Your lips were slightly parted, visibly showing your surprise at the capabilities of the new technology. He laughed softly as you tried to wrap your mind around it. While you were distracted, he slipped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

You happily obliged, leaning your head on his shoulder and staring over the high-security glass at the large, laser looking machine. You could feel him heat up a bit at the contact, and he now entertained himself by drawing patterns on your arm with his thumb.

You put your hands in your pocket and fiddled with the metal keycard under the fabric, while you tried to imagine what his life was like. You pictured what he looked like and how he acted when he was happy, stressed, or even sad. The image of him working endless nights, the image of him accidentally falling asleep in his chair holding a cold, half-empty cup of coffee.

He lightly squeezed your shoulder, bringing your attention back to him. You turn to look at him, and he's… content. Though maybe a little worried that he shared too much information with you, as your face becomes more strung and deep in thought.

While he thought you were thinking about the science, you were thinking about the scientist behind it. Now it was your turn to crush on him.

His face had a warm glow that you couldn't help but feel giddy about. You first noticed this aura of his when he first sat down at your table at the cafe just a few days ago. Then again, when he wandered into your office like a lost puppy, looking for its owner. He sought you out, time and time again. And now you have this keycard, leading straight to him—

"Y/n? Are you alright?" He worries, turning to face you more directly and get a better read on your expression.

You nod your head silently, trying to decide what to do.

He laughs a little nervously, worried that he confused you too much. "Im sorry, I know I'm just dumping a lot of stuff on you-"

You weren’t sure how he would react, but...

"Can I kiss you?" you ask quietly.

His jaw comically dropped, and his face went blank, turning bright pink.

"I uhm- Yes. Yes, please." He laughs sheepishly, turning his body to face you.

You smiled at him a little nervously, taking a deep breath before meeting his lips. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat out of his chest.

It was a short kiss, but the unbelievable look on Jonathan's face made you giggle. He pulled you closer to him, shyly wrapping his arm around yours and cuddling himself into your side. You took it that he wasn't used to these types of situations, so you removed your arm from his and pulled in his waist instead, which he seemed to appreciate.

You admired his flushed face as he looked out through the glass barrier at the massive collider. He seemed to drift away from the present, with a tiny smile never leaving his face.

After a few peaceful moments, he turned to you again, watching you smile at him. He giggled sheepishly, not realizing that you had been looking at him. He stared at you for a second before leaning into you again, pressing his lips against yours in a soft and gentle embrace.

You kissed back with a bit more fervor, wanting to show him the small extra bit of love that he was too scared to initiate. He accepted this quickly and matched your pace, running his tongue across yours briefly. It was a sweet moment, overcoming both of your minds and connecting you together. He searched for your hands and intertwined them with his, occasionally mumbling sweet compliments that you couldn't quite understand through his kisses.

"So pretty... mm... knew it when I first saw you... in the office..." he mumbles, breathing a little heavier and marking your face as his own as he planted small kisses all over your plush cheeks and lips. You blushed softly at his sweetness, and he took it as an opportunity to kiss you properly once more.

While he was busy decorating your face with kisses, he hadn't heard the soft click of the keycard reader being scanned, followed by an unlocked door. It was only when he heard footsteps that he froze, his head whipping around in the direction of the sounds.

"Shit," he murmured, throwing himself up on his feet and putting his hands on either side of your waist.

Your head tilted up to look at him, surprised at the urgency.

"John?" you questioned, standing up at his encouraging hands pulling you up next to him. "What's going on?"

The nickname warmed his heart, but he tried to stay focused as his heartbeat quickened at the interruption. "You're not supposed to be here... I uh- forged the keycard for you." He admitted, still pulling you by your waist around the lab, looking for a place to... hide you? "It's kinda forbidden for any workers to enter this lab…"

"What? Should I go now?" You ask, now processing the situation.

"No, no- shh..." He whispers, holding you close and scurrying away from the collider viewpoint, to behind a lab table. He crouched down, and you followed him, sitting together in the cramped hiding space.

He looked at you briefly, waving a hand for you to stay down. He peeked over the end of the table, watching as his coworker, Olivia Octavius turned the corner.

"What's happening?" You whisper to him, not being able to see her walk around the lab tables, briefly stopping to log into her computer. He held his hand over your mouth, looking into your eyes with a seriousness you'd never seen him show before. You immediately silenced when his eyes met yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat with the look in his eyes. His head quickly whipped around when he heard her hum a soft tune, and he figured that she was probably distracted enough now for you two to move to a safer place to hide.

"Follow me," he quietly instructed, grabbing your hand and slowly pulling you both up on your feet, giving you the signal to start slowly walking towards his new hiding spot.

The bathroom.

It would have to do for now, you suppose.

You followed him with sneaky steps, quietly moving towards the doors. Since he was a scientist, you figured Jonathan was good at making such calculated decisions, and so you trusted him that he had a plan.

He snuck around the corner he was eyeing, which was a direct path to the bathroom. The only problem? Octavius' computer was also in direct sight of the doorway.

Jonathan took a moment to figure out the best steps to take, mouthing his instructions to himself. You found this quirk of his quite cute, but let him continue to think without interrupting him.

"Alright, come." He whispered softly to you without turning around to face you. You followed him, quickly stepping over to the bathroom and walking into the dark room without turning on the lights to alert her.

As you entered the bathroom, you could hear Octavius typing away on her computer, oblivious to your presence in the lab. The darkness provided some cover, but you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with anxiety as you tiptoed your way into the bathroom.

You carefully closed the door behind you to minimize any noise. The faint glow from the hallway provided just enough visibility for you to avoid tripping on any tiles.

"Phew-" he exhaled with relief, taking the chance to catch his breath. The trip wasn't physically taxing, but he was so worried that he was going to be separated from you that he tired himself out.

"Who is she?" You ask curiously, tilting your head in question.

"Oh, that's the other scientist working on the collider, Olivia Octavius. She's a, uh… an interesting character." He states, laughing softly. He seemed somewhat fond of her, but didn't want to tap into it that much.

"Should I be worried about her?" You ask, your voice laced with an underlying concern.

"No, no, she's not that scary. I'd just rather not get caught sneaking someone around, you know?" He answers, a little embarrassed. You laugh softly at his awkward reaction, and pull him in by the waist. He becomes flustered at the gesture, and lands on top of you.

He blushes at the close contact, and you pull him in closer. He squirms under your secure hold, tightly pressing his chest against yours. You crash your lips onto his, finally giving him the kiss you had been waiting to continue.

"Mmph!-" He moans at the sudden contact of your lips, taking a few seconds to register what was happening before kissing back.

He let out a few more soft sounds as you made out, slowly unwinding and getting lost in your arms. As the intensity of the kiss grows, you can feel the tension and anticipation between you both. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you locked in this passionate embrace.

After all, the main attraction hadn’t been the collider. It was Jonathan Ohnn.

—

☆ --- taglist: @penguiqueen-blog , @cochayuyo-wapo , @average-lettuce-enjoyer , @generalkenobi36

#jonathan ohnn x reader #jonathan ohnn #the spot #the spot x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv x you

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c0ntraversial-h0rr0r-c0ntent · 2 months

Note

jiji hello, I read you from Argentina (I'm Argentine) and I like to ask you for a nsfw if possible of Jason Voorhees with a y/n (it can be GN/Female, whatever you want) who walks around the house in underwear. (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)I like your writings mau

Sorry it took so long 😭😭😭 I so so appreciate you

Jason Gets Excited | NSFW

(So bad at naming things) Jason gets hard when you’re in just your underwear and he fucks your thighs. 800 ish words. [thigh fucking, shame (obviously, it’s Jason)] hope you like ittt

When you got back to the cabin you hadn’t given it too much thought—it was routine, get home, get settled in, put on comfortable clothes. The cabin was cozy, with a fire in the fireplace, so you just stripped down to your underwear and through on one of Jason’s flannels, which was warm and smelled like him.

You hear the door thump close a few minutes later. You’re at the kitchen counter and he stands on the other side and tilts his head at your hands.

“For soup, I picked up some bread earlier.”

He nods at the vegetables on the cutting board then walks around the counter. You turn to greet him and you watch his eyes shift under his mask.

He usually pulls you in close, resting his chin on the top of your head, arms around your waist, but he turns and walks to the other side of the room and into your shared bedroom.

You give him a minute, then knock on the closed door. You’ve worked out that if he’ll knock back if he needs a few more minutes alone and he’ll open the door himself if he’s okay with you coming in. You don’t hear either, but there is noise coming from the room.

You press your ear to the door. You expect quiet sobs like you usually hear when he’s shut himself away.

He’s grunting and he might be crying, but you can’t quite tell.

“Jason?” You knock twice.

Two knocks, from either of you, is your way of asking if the other person is okay. It’s something you’ve agreed that you have to respond to, with signals for yes, no, and I need space.

You hear the floor creak underneath him as he shuffles to the door. He opens the door and looks away, hiding his already-shielded face. He still has his shirt and jacket on but his pants and underwear are off and his cock is hanging half hard between his legs.

“You don’t have to hide,” You soothe. “It’s okay. Remember what we talked about?”

You’ve made it clear that he shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything and that if the two of you never do, that’s okay. In written out conversations he’s told you all about the shame and guilt that have been instilled in him.

A few nights ago he had asked if he could watch you touch yourself. You had obliged and he had gone outside to finish himself off after. It was so intimate, him spreading your legs and watching, but this was something completely new.

You try so hard not to stare but it’s impossible—it’s just so big.

Then, realization dawns on you. “Is it because I’m in my underwear?”

He nods. You can tell that he’s grimacing under the mask.

He holds out a hand to you and when you take it he pulls you close. You can feel it in between your legs.

His arms are wrapped around your waist, his grip soft but firm, keeping you in place. He moves his hips forward, gently thrusting in between your thighs.

“Oh.”

He looks down and tilts his head.

“It’s okay.”

He nods and bucks his hips again. You slide your hand down the front of your underwear and adjust yourself then look up. “Again.”

Now his hard cock is pressed against your clit and there’s friction with every bump of his hips against yours.

He’s breathing heavy and his chin is jutting out underneath his mask, mouth open. He pushes you away from him, just a few inches, and lets his right hand fall from his hip to his cock.

He holds it a few inches below the tip and lines himself up so just the tip is pressed to the fabric. He fucks it up against you slowly.

He groans and his grip on your waist is firmer, which you’re sure will unintentionally bruise, not that you mind. The harshness of his hand, the feeling of his tip bumping up against your clit, it’s all so much but it’s fucking perfect.

He whimpers when he cums. Deep and guttural and rough but a whimper nonetheless. You watch as it shoots of the tip, coating your underwear and then falling to the floor—there’s so much.

When he’s done he pulls you back to him and you stay like that for a while, holding you and crying softly.

“I know that was a lot for you but you did so good.” You whisper. “You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s okay to let yourself feel good.”

When he’s collected himself he cleans his mess on the floor. It’s a big milestone and you’re so, so proud of him.

#slasher fucker #slasher fanfiction #slasher x you #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees x you

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cyberrose2001 · 11 months

Note

Could you do a pt2 with pregnant reader, like Optimus finds her throwing up with morning sickness. Would really appreciate it. Love your writing.❤️❤️

TFP Optimus x fem!reader

trying out different writing styles so sorry if this feels a lil different to the previous part

SO this is pt 2 of this -> Read here!

There will be a pt 3 so keep an eye out for that, but for now, enjoy! <3

Warnings: Emetophobia, mentions of sex, pregnancy

Word count: 1201

As much as you loved getting dicked down by your alien robot boyfriend for the first time last night, you heavily underestimated the following effects. Unfortunately, waking up to the feeling of your body trying to eject the contents of your stomach was not on your agenda for the day. So, you try to crawl out from under a servo that held you, desperately trying not to throw up all over his shiny chassis.

The idea of you being pregnant never crosses your mind as you ungracefully stumble off the giant berth, almost faceplanting, and run for the nearest toilet, sink, or whatever you may find first. Then, with your mouth salivating at the impending feeling of throwing up, you find a conveniently placed trash can at the room's doorway. You practically throw yourself at it and heave your guts into the poor trash can.

It's unusual because you don't remember eating glowing bright blue soup for dinner last night before you had the pounding of a lifetime from your boyfriend. You weren't sure if you even ate dinner last night, too preoccupied with the jealousy of your cousin and the fact that Optimus had offered to put a baby in you. Yet the thought of you being knocked up still evaded your mind as you leaned over the bin and threw up a few more mouthfuls of the disgusting-tasting "soup". Your nostrils singed from the smell, and the sensation of your oesophagus melting away makes your eyes water. And honestly, the trash can is probably having a better time than you are presently.

Being a relatively light sleeper, Optimus notices your absence from under his servo and awakens to the pathetic sight of you hunched over the bin. Concerned, as one would be by the view of their significant other vomiting, he leaps out of the berth with the gracefulness that you had failed to execute yourself and rushes over to your side.

"Are you alright?" Optimus hovers a hesitant servo over your back, unsure what to do. Then, after recollecting himself from being hit by a wall of stench from the contents of the bin, he peers his optics around to your face; you're sweating bullets, your hair still unruly from last night's antics and clung to your forehead.

You spat out the remnants of your saliva mixed with whatever the hell you just threw up and lifted a shaky hand to pull your hair out of your face, "Just peachy."

Optimus ignores your sarcastic tone and reaches his servo to pull your hair out of your face, gathering the now slightly wet strands behind your head like a makeshift ponytail.

"Shall I call for Ratchet?"

No, for Primus sake no. The last thing you'd ever want was for Optimus to drag the cranky medic out of his recharge to point and laugh at your miserable, sweaty state. Not to mention his horrified questioning about exactly why you're throwing up glowing blue Gatorade. Not that you knew, either. That's an awkward conversation for another time.

"Please don't." You beg, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand, "Just… get me some water or something… pretty please?"

Optimus, though very reluctant to not advise his medic of your current predicament, obliges and goes to fetch you a bottle of water. You've trained him well. He returns in record time and passes it to you, and you make no haste to unscrew the cap and scull as much as you can.

"June, perhaps?" Optimus suggests, a servo returning to your back, "I understand that she is proficient in human health."

"Yeah, I guess she will be fine." You grimace, looking down at the swirling patterns of what once was your stomach contents, "Though I'm not sure if there are any cases of glowing throw-up in her medical books."

"Glowing what?"

"Puke. Bioluminescent blue puke."

June Darby considers herself a seasoned nurse. She has seen just about everything, but this? Unheard of. She tries to wrack her brain on everything she has ever learned through her many years of medical experience but comes up with nothing as she is now forced to stand there looking like a lost, wet cat.

She clicks the pen in her hand with deep thought, a crumpled piece of paper retrieved from her pocket in the other, "Do you remember eating anything strange? Have you done anything unusual at all that would've caused it? Exposure to chemicals, or…"

You felt the blood simultaneously drain from and flush to your face as you remember getting down and dirty with Optimus for the first time last night. Well, you were sure there was plenty of exposure to chemicals in the form of your boyfriend's transfluids. Drumming the old crusty hospital gurney beneath you with your fingers, you wonder whether or not you should tell June that you had let Optimus make sweet love to you for the first time.

And that's when you remember why he fragged you in the first place. You wanted a baby. And sweet Primus, it's all just hitting you square in the face now.

Could it be that you're pregnant? It starts to add up. The morning sickness, not to mention the abnormal glowing throw-up and the fact that you actually begged Optimus to put a baby in you and complied with the most enormous load of cum your body has ever taken (it's taking a lot for you not to drool at the thought). It makes a least a little bit of sense.

"June, do you happen to have a pregnancy test on you?"

After an awkward conversation with June about your recent endeavour with Prime, with her secretly being incredibly impressed, she gave you a clean-ish bill of health. Next, she sent you to the bathroom with a packet of pregnancy tests, with her being on standby in case you pass out from nausea, excitement or the sensation of a potential baby that may be in your uterus currently.

You open one test and place it on the bathroom sink, then pull your pajama pants down to your ankles in preparation for your first time peeing on a stick, akin to a dog. You giggle.

Task successful. You pull your pants up and wash your hands, counting every second the cold water hits your skin. It gave you some time to think. Would a regular pregnancy test even register if the fetus isn't human? Would it show up at all? Was Optimus truthful when he agreed to try and conceive a child, or was it just the lust combined with robot hormones doing the talking?

You didn't have enough time to answer your little pop quiz as you're alerted to the small beep of the Clearblue stick still sitting on the bathroom sink.

Pregnant.

Holy shit. You were having a baby.

An uncontrollable tsunami of emotions floods your senses as you pick up the stick, getting a closer look to ensure you aren't dreaming. It's real. It's so real that you're resisting the urge to climb to the top of the base and scream it out for everyone on Earth and potentially Cybertron to hear.

I'm gonna be a mom.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus x reader #suggestive #valveplug

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meanbossart · 3 months

Text

ASK TIME, sorry for the delay!

What's more serious than two men glistening under the sun smashing balls together in a grease pit (thank you also!)

I'll be honest with you guys, sometimes I don't know if I SHOULD answer to these because, well, It must come across as trite after a point to keep expressing my gratitude over and over, but I can't just leave them sitting in the inbox either. I'm so flattered by every single word of encouragement and compliment I get on my art, characters, or writing, the fact you guys who are strangers to me as I am to you decide to take the time to give me a little pat on the back or leave me a funny message is just incredibly sweet. So, thank you so much - the amount of messages can be a little overwhelming so please just know that even If I don't reply, I read it, and it put a smile on my face.

Thank you for checking out Sad Sack and our comics! Hopefully it wasn't too shocking an experience considering how I've since become an Elves Holding Hands And Bullying Wizards kind of artist LOL Not that me and barbatus don't have more work in that genre we plan to do (though admittedly nothing that comes close to the level of brutality in Sad Sack), but YOU KNOW... I realize that, if people found my ASS GRAB COMIC to be scandalous then me and my partner's comics might just put someone in the hospital if they were to stumble across it unprepared lmao

I'm glad to hear the experience was overall a net positive though, and ESPECIALLY that it inspired you to pursue your own projects! I definitely second the sentiment that the least that we (We as in people who were in the dumb edgy circles you described when we were younger) can do with all that bullshit we exposed ourselves to is to try and kindle some creative flame out of it, within reason, of course.

If you ever finish this comic you're thinking of working on, please link it my way if you are comfortable with doing so! I would love to see it.

BONUS:

Guys I have like 3 messages asking if I played fear and hunger. It's okay, you aren't obligated to have read every single thing I ever posted to find out I literally have a F&H tattoo, that doesn't bother me, I just wanna ask, sincerely, why does that come up so often. WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY TO ME. DO I EMANATE FEAR AND HUNGER ENERGY. DOES IT SEEP OUT MY PORES ONTO MY OILY FINGERTIPS OVER THE KEYS OF THIS KEYBOARD AND ACROSS THE WORLD WIDE WEB? WHAT'S GOING ON.

#ask

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pearl-tarotist · 2 years

Text

LOVE LETTERS FROM YOUR FS through Sappho poems

Sappho is one of the most romantic poetess ever. And once I read a quote that was: “Her broken form (poetry) cannot be more human; the same way we are broken, alive, fragmented, and intimate memories of our lives”.

Sappho and her poetry will help us to understand your FS messages towards you; the same way her poems are just a small part of her memories and life.

PILE 1: Fragment 16 – Helen of Troy

"Everyone can understand this – consider

That Helen, far surpassing the beauty

Of mortals, left behind

The best man of all

To sail away to Troy. She remembered

Neither daughter nor dear parents

As [Aphrodite] led her away”.

(The moon – 3 of shells – king of gems – Prince of wings – 9 of roses)

I want to run away with you, I want to leave all our obligations and obstacles behind. I wish we could hide in the dark, just enlightened by the moon; I want to kiss you under the stars. I want to caress you and hug you forever, I wish I could take care of you and never let anybody hurt you. You are my only moon and muse. You are the one that makes my darkness disappear. With you, I’m able to celebrate the smallest victories, there’s never a bad day or night next to you. I want to build a home for you; I know it’s complicated, I know it’s a challenge but I’m willing to become someone mature and respected to protect you. I love you with my whole heart and soul and I will always put you first. I will become someone powerful, so we never lack anything. But, I wish I didn’t have to become someone else to protect you, I wish we could just be happy and together alone; I don’t want to fight anybody else just for our happiness. I want to spend all my time with you, I hate how society wants to interfere in our lives. I want us to have our home protected and secured, I wish you didn’t have to worry about anything, I want us to live together and create a family. I want us to have our happy ending. The moment I find you, I will never depart from you. I feel that I love you too much. I want you all for myself. Take care until the moment we see each other, form that point on, I will be the one taking care of you. I would like to marry you as soon as I can.

(So much warmness! That was so intense; I think he’s from a hot country because I was feeling so much heat..)

PILE 2

“With his venom irresistible and bittersweet that loosener of limbs, Love reptile-like strikes me down.”

(7 of gems- Princess of gems – The Devil – The Emperor – The Chariot – The wheel of fortune)

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry. I’m just feeling really frustrated, you could think I’m stupid for saying this: but I am just so young. I don’t know what I am doing or what I want to do. I’m still trying to find my place and path; I hope you understand. I’m trying to do my best and discover my likes and dislikes; I still don’t know and I am so confused. Some may say I am a playboy or a ghoster but that’s not true, I am trying to discover myself and I am not willing to fulfill people expectations, just mines; but still, a part of me hopes I can fulfill yours.

I want to seduce you; I hope I can become someone attractive in your eyes because you are a goddess in mine. You are so beautiful; I cannot wait to put my hands on your body. I want to touch your waist and hips and press them against my body. I want to be someone powerful and a match to your power and strength. You are an empress and I just want to make you mine, I don’t want your “Kingdom” or place, I just want you. I also must be this powerful emperor/ king that can match your spirit. God, you are so clever too. I’m so determined to have you and make you mine. I will take you on so many pretty trips. We will feel like we are flying. We are the king and queen of the whole world. I don’t know, I just feel so lucky to know you are my spouse, I can’t wait to meet you.

PILE 3:

“I love delicacy, and for me Love has the sun's splendour and beauty”

(8 of gems – 7 of roses- The devil- The hierophant – 8 of shells – The high priestess + more)

I think you are beautiful; I think you are perfection. You are so pretty, I feel as you are the perfect couple for me, but somehow…I feel insecure next to you. I’m sorry, I will have to recollect some courage before meeting you. I need to be brave to speak to you, you are so pretty I stand speechless every time I want to greet you or conversate with you. My feelings for you are also so strong, I like your body and face so much, sometimes I am scared of my own emotions because this is not how I have been raised. You make me feel so lusty about you, I feel sorry about it sometimes. I cannot stop myself from thinking about your body, and face, and lips, and my hands all around them.

I think it’s a sacrifice I must do, you will teach me so much, you will change my believes. You are so intuitive and clever and you have all these ideas about the afterlife and energies and rocks?? You make me think that maybe not everything is as it seems. I have to thank you too for having so much patience with me. It must not be easy to try to explain these tings to me. But it brings us so much joy, I love to spend time with you and I love to see how happy it makes you, that someone listen to you in those matters, I don’t think I will ever forget your shinny eyes and pink lips. Sometimes, you must repeat what you say, I’m sorry, I focus so much on your pretty lips that I cannot contain myself from kissing them. I hope you are happy while we are apart, I want you to grow, spiritually or however you say it, so you can teach it to me while we are together, even when we are old. I hope we can meet in our next lives too, is that how you would say it? (And I just heard some laughs and a caress on my cheek) .

#pac #pap #tarot #fs tarot #free tarot #pick a pile #divination #love tarot #future spouse tarot #future spouse reading #future spouse game #future spouse pac #future spouse pick a card #pick a card #pac reading #free tarot reading #love tarot reading #message fs #message from future spouse

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mimi-cee-genshin · 2 years

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Untimely Obligations - Cyno x f!reader

Summary: Cyno tells you a joke to cheer you up, momentarily forgetting you use any opportunity to flirt with him. That tends to make things a little more difficult for him. He needs to wrap up this investigation soon.

Genre: Fluff, humor, flirting, banter, pre-relationship, a smidge of hurt/comfort

Words: 1.3k

I just wanted to see Cyno with a slightly flirty reader but still somehow show that they suited each other lol. This was the result.

"There is a substance in the world that a person can hold, but the longer he holds it, the more it disappears," Cyno tells you. "What is it?"

You sit across the table from Cyno, staring back at him while your expression remains unchanged. You don't give him an answer.

He sighs before he continues. "It's ice," he says. When you don't utter a word, he gives further explanation. "The ice melts in your hand, changing back to its liquid form."

Your eyes don't move, but he raises his brow when he notices you slightly biting your lip. Perhaps you're still confused.

"It's still water, but it cannot be called ice anymore, which is why you can claim it has disappeared."

He continues to elaborate on the joke, but when he starts getting into the nuances of properties of water, you burst out into laughter.

"I'm sorry," you tell him. "I couldn't hold it in anymore."

Oh? Was this joke successful? Cyno continues to cross his arms as you attempt to calm down from your laughter.

"I didn't want to laugh. I wanted you to keep going."

"And why is that?"

"You're just really cute when you do that," you say with a grin. "Besides, I like hearing your voice."

He lets out a scoff and picks up his spoon. His rice is getting cold.

"Anyway, was that supposed to be a joke or a riddle? Because there's a difference you know."

"I thought it was hilarious," he says. "Imagine a child holding an ice cube and then panicking it has disappeared five minutes later."

"You should have explained it that way then," you laugh.

He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue. Fine. One of his jokes will land someday. Besides, he only told the joke because you seemed sad, so he was at least successful in lightening the mood. Why did someone have to come and ask about your sister? He should've known better.

You slip him a piece of paper and he peeks under it to read your note. It's a lead to the investigation he's currently working on. He looks up at you and you have a large and expectant grin on your face.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" you ask him.

He doesn't reply.

"You know. Something like, 'You're so awesome, sweetheart. What ever would I do without you?'"

You never miss an opportunity to flirt with him. He puts the piece of paper away before crossing his arms again. "Excellent work," he tells you. This will help the investigation move more quickly.

"Aww... You're no fun," you pout. "This is an alternative way you can humour me."

He quickly asks another favour of you, and you're a little miffed he didn't play along.

"Yes, I can do that," you tell him. "Her daughter frequents the tavern and I can casually ask how her family is doing. I'm bound to find a few clues from that."

You continue to eat your wrap as Cyno takes more from his plate. This case needs to be wrapped up quickly. He shouldn't have involved you in this first place.

"But why didn't you ask Lambad for help instead? He knows his customers better than I do," you say. "I've only been here for a year."

He pauses from eating and places his spoon down. Looking into your eyes, he simply says, "I trust you."

It was years ago, but he still remembers both the painful yet determined look in your eyes. He was in charge of the investigation involving your sister, and yet you told him exactly where she was hiding. It turned into a painful memory for him, seeing you so heartbroken by your sister's crimes. He couldn't help but secretly keep an eye on you over the years.

"You wouldn't betray your own convictions," he tells you. "You're not so easily swayed by your emotions nor by others."

You widen your eyes, surprised that he made that observation about you.

"Oh?" you ask. "Have I captured your interest then?"

He sighs. He should really get to the bottom of his current case. "How have things been at the tavern?" he asks, changing the topic.

"Nothing too eventful. Just the same old thing. Gossiping people, students, merchants, the occasional traveler from another nation, more gossiping people…," you explain.

There's a twinkle in your eye before you continue. "Besides, if anyone starts to cause any trouble, I just casually mention that you've been coming here fairly frequently."

He has been coming to Lambad's tavern fairly often to take a break even though he'd typically prefer solitude.

"It's nice having a certain strong and handsome guy around," you tell him with a teasing grin.

Your comment catches him off-guard, causing his cheeks to heat up as well. He's been putting up a wall between you, but every so often, you pull a fast one on him.

Footsteps approach from the stairs. Cyno grabs his polearm.

"Cyno, wait." You take his hand.

He releases his breath when the person is in sight.

"It's only Lambad," you explain.

"I just brought up some more food as requested," he says. Cyno glances at you because he didn't order anymore.

"It's for you," you mouth the words to him.

"Anyway," Lambad turns to you, "your break is almost over. You only have five minutes left to flirt with Cyno here."

Cyno widens his eyes. Just how many people knew about your feelings for him? Although, he really shouldn't be surprised by the way you act around him.

"Should I tone it down?" you ask in almost a whisper. Cyno sits back in his seat after Lambad left you two alone again on the second floor.

Cyno raises his brow, not understanding your question.

"With the flirting," you explain. "Does it bother you that much to have other people know I like you?"

You must have read his expression. He can't deny it's been a source of stress for him.

You hold your wrap in front of you. "Well... Then again, I'd probably tarnish your reputation as the great Mahamatra," you say with lowered eyes before taking another bite of your food.

He watches your face and does not detect any lie from you. You truly believed your own words. "There's no need for you to dissociate with me," he says. "With your character, you wouldn't damage my reputation at all."

You choke on your food and he hands you some water. You're almost a bit bashful at his compliment. But when you see he has gone quiet, a smirk tugs on your lips.

"Does this mean I can keep flirting with you?"

He scoffs. Of course you took this as permission to lavish your feelings on him.

"You know... You've never told me to stop," you tell him with a grin sneaking onto your lips.

He thinks back to past interactions with you and sighs. He knows the reason why he has never asked you to stop flirting with him.

"Are you actually secretly interested in me?" you say with a wink.

Cyno rubs his temple. "I do think you need to stop flirting with me."

"What? Well... I…," you lower your eyes. "I think… I'll need some time to adjust, so…"

"Just stop until I wrap up this investigation." He grabs his polearm and leaves the table. "I've involved you too much with this case," he says. "I need to make sure you're safe first."

He already promised himself to look for you once the right people were behind bars. It's only right for you to get a clear answer from him soon.

"Oh… I see…," you say in a lowered voice. "Alright, I'll stop until…"

Cyno steps down the stairs and heads towards the door.

"Wait! What?!?!?!"

He places a hand on his forehead. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that yet, but it's true. He wants you to stay by his side and keep flirting with him in the future.

He just needs to ensure your safety is secured first.

I hope you liked it. :) I have some other fics too so please check out the rest of my blog.

Edit: I have a part two.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #cyno x reader #cyno x you #genshin cyno #cyno #cyno drabble #cyno scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact oneshots #cyno fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff

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loki-cees-all · 6 months

Text

Chapter 3 - Then With the Eyes Shut {TLTGYA - Post-TVA!Loki x OFC Longfic}

Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Loki is trying his best to just ignore his new cellmate, but she’s really not making it easy for him.

Chapter W/c : 4.7k words

Chapter Tags / Content : Heavy angst, again. Oops!

Author's Note : Sorry this chapter is so late! It’s a long story, but I got kicked through a Time Door and was temporarily lost to time. Anyway - hope you all enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for reading!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Loki had never been one to loathe his own nightmares; he needed their reminder, and he craved the pain they caused. But the nightmares had betrayed him - forcing him into revealing his presence to his new cell mate, and so he was absolutely cursing them now.

He’d forced himself to look away before responding to her query about escaping, and while he hadn’t directly witnessed her disappointment and confusion, he had felt them. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Loki resented having to admit out loud that he’d rather stay there in that horrible place, that his reluctance to leave was probably going to damn her as well.

She was an innocent bystander, someone who didn’t deserve the danger and chaos and death that followed Loki wherever he went. But he knew she was doomed the moment she entered his presence, whether they stayed or left.

The woman had made several more attempts to communicate after he laid back down, and Loki had ignored every one of them. But he didn’t dare fall back asleep; he was bound to have another nightmare, and having another person there to witness its aftermath was just too intimate, and too much for him to deal with, on top of everything else.

So he just continued laying on his side, his dark cloak pulled tight around him and his forearm curled underneath his head, and his eyes open but not seeing as he listened to the dungeon sounds that he had grown painfully accustomed to. The water droplets and distant screams were almost comforting at this point, but the sound of the woman’s quiet sobs and prayers for assistance were most certainly not.

Loki couldn’t blame her for them, though - she had every right to be frightened. He could feel her muscles tensing up with every scream in the distance, with every footstep of the guards down the hallway. And for some reason, her anguish was much harder to deal with than the ones of his previous cell mates.

He told himself it was just because she was the only one who ever knew he was there, and that he just needed to be patient for another two or three days, because eventually the guards would come for her. Eventually, she’d be put out of her misery, and Loki would be able to nightmare in peace once again.

Until then, Loki would continue to suffer while awake. Keeping his heavy eyelids open was an enormous effort, and shifting his position on the floor felt like trying to push cinder blocks against an ocean’s current. He never would have guessed that simply lying down would be so exhausting.

Not even the rigorous warrior training he was obligated to endure under Odin’s guidance had been this depleting, and while he hadn’t necessarily been conscious during the horrors inflicted upon him on Knowhere, his body had still suffered tremendously.

Just how long had he been awake anyway? There were no windows in his cell, no sunrise or sunset to witness, and mercifully, no clocks to mark the passage of time. That had been his favorite part about this place, back when there was nothing to look forward to and nothing to dread.

It was peculiar that they hadn’t come for her yet. No one else, other than him, had ever survived for this long. What exactly were the guards waiting for?

Loki clenched his jaw and sighed in frustration. He didn’t want to ask questions - even to himself - and he certainly didn’t want answers; they just made doing nothing that much harder, and it wasn’t the kind of punishment he had been seeking in the first place.

All he could do was remind himself that this was all temporary. He didn’t know or care if the universe was trying to offer or taunt him with a chance at redemption, but he wasn’t going to fall for it again. The opportunity - or the illusion - would eventually pass, just like all the other times he had tried and failed, and soon he’d be able to return to his nightmares.

For the most part, he dreamt about running; from himself, from truth and lies and pain and respite. From villains and heroes as they chased him down endless hallways with countless doorways. And whenever he stopped to open them, each one led to the memory of a time he could have made the right decision and didn’t - when he could have just not snuck the Frost Giants into Asgard, when he could have just stayed in the Void with his other variants, or any time he could have just not picked up the Tesseract -

Loki gasped violently, and his eyes flew open in a panic - he had started to fall asleep again. He immediately froze in place, listening for signs that the woman had heard the disturbance. But she didn’t move or speak, and Loki was grateful for that.

His lungs heaved for air and his heart thudded painfully in his chest as he desperately tried to calm himself down, and his jaw set in place as he forced his eyes to focus on the cracks of the stone before him. The most prominent one was deep, chiseled and eroded away by years of water and pain. Smaller cracks branched out from the primary fault, some above it and some below, just like the doomed offshoots from the Sacred Timeline.

He couldn’t help but wonder - were those branches still being pruned? Or were they allowed to continue, drifting and splitting in countless directions with endless opportunities for variants of He Who Remains to come into power? To declare war against the others? To destroy and conquer everything in their sight in pursuit of their own narcissism?

Before he knew it, his eyes were filled with tears. He hadn’t driven the knife into He Who Remains, but he might as well have. The failure was on him, and the countless lives that would be ruined whether the TVA continued pruning or the dangerous variants were allowed to come into power was his burden to bear. His glorious purpose…

This wasn’t working - sleep only led to nightmares, and staring at the wall only invited rumination. His mind wasn’t in his own control, Loki’s muscles were aching and screaming for a change in position, the damn TVA belt was digging painfully into his belly, and as much as he didn’t want the woman witnessing his nightmares, he definitely didn’t want her to know he was weeping.

Loki needed a different kind of distraction, and since he had no previous history with the woman, perhaps she could be the right kind.

It was excruciating, but Loki did it anyway. He placed his palm flat on the stone floor and carefully pushed himself upright, his joints creaking and popping uncomfortably after months of disuse. Moving slowly and cautiously, and stifling multiple groans of pain, he finally managed to bring himself into a sitting position. He was still hiding in the shadows, still unwilling to expose himself, and he leaned back against the stone with a heavy sigh.

His long legs were outstretched before him, one ankle crossed over the other, and his hands were folded neatly in his lap and underneath the dark cloak. Physical pain was temporarily assuaged, and he waited patiently for his green eyes to adjust to the meager shift in lighting conditions.

It had been a long time since he had looked at this side of the cell, and not much had changed; the hallways were still sparsely illuminated with poorly-maintained lanterns, the stone walls were still grizzled and filthy, and the bars were still aged and corroded. There was nothing new to see, and nothing new to feel, and inevitably, his gaze migrated over to his new cellmate.

She was still in the same position as when he had last looked at her, knees pulled to her chest and huddled against the opposite corner of the cell. She even wore the same expression of despair and anguish as before, except she had somehow managed to fall asleep. Her eyes were now closed, and she was breathing in and out slowly, and that was the only reason Loki felt comfortable looking closer.

The woman’s fiery red hair, woven into one long braid slung over her shoulder, glowed in the lantern light; in any other conditions, her hair would have been stunning, but in here, it was just tragic. A long and thin chain hung around her neck, the links hooked together to support whatever gem or stone her fingers was wrapped around, clinging to it like it was magically going to transport her to safety.

In that same hand, Loki could see she clutched the small blade of an unused dagger, its blade free of chips and jagged edges, and her other arm was hidden inside her dark cloak.

Loki found himself wondering who she used to be before she was brought here, and what she had done to deserve it. He had always prided himself on being a quick study, an expert on reading between the lines of who people were, of what they craved - and more importantly - what they lacked.

He was always able to use that skill to his advantage - but Loki was stumped with this one. Her clothes, black leather and dark green cloth, were relatively clean and well-tailored. The dungeon guards could be after money, but that seemed unlikely while her jewelry and weaponry were left untouched. And as far as he knew, there was no extortion happening in this place - only death, perpetuated by mysterious guards, who for all Loki knew, were simply doing this for fun.

As if on cue, the sound of clinking keys echoed from down the hallway. Surprisingly, Loki felt no relief at the sound, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on the footsteps of her reapers coming to collect what they were owed; except it wasn’t the usual pair of guards moving down the hallway, it just was one of them.

His brow furrowed, and his eyes cracked open just as the lone guard came into view and paused before the cell door. The guard held some sort of tray, balanced in one hand while the other pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and began to unlock the cell door. It was only then that the woman startled awake.

She gasped in fear as she scooted back away from the door, pushing herself with her feet and trying to find a safe distance within the confines of their cell. She still clutched her dagger tightly, instead of using it to fight, and Loki, still hidden in the shadows, remained unmoving as the guard stepped inside and carefully placed a tray of food on the floor.

Loki couldn’t believe it. After how many weeks and months, how many prisoners and deaths, not once had he ever encountered anyone being fed here. Not once had the guards kept anyone around long enough to even warrant feeding.

In fact, it was the first time Loki had ever gotten a good look at any of them. The guard moved slowly and with purpose, dressed head to toe in black clothing that lacked any markings or indications as to who he worked for, or what their goal was. The mask he wore was flat and expressionless, tinted with ochre and had two thin cutouts for the eyes and none for the mouth.

And even with the mask obscuring his features, the guard radiated animosity towards the woman as he lingered in the cell - as if he completely despised her, even as he was feeding her.

The guard finally backed out of the cell and relocked the door, and the woman eyed the tray suspiciously, conflicted between wanting to trust the food, but not wanting to be poisoned either. She didn’t seem to notice the guard’s covered face turning as he moved down the hallway, still staring at her from underneath the mask as he walked away.

Loki’s brow furrowed as he turned his attention back to the woman. She carefully placed the dagger on the stone floor and inched her fingers forward to reach for the tray, her green eyes still transitioning between apprehension and hunger in the face of the unappealing food that had been delivered by her captors.

The tray contained a bowl of grains, soggy and mushy and almost certainly cold, and next to it sat a hunk of bread, the age of which was undeterminable. No one would ever choose this as a meal, but it was probably the only food she’d seen in days - and Loki, months. But her apprehension hung heavy in the air, suffocating him like the unanswered questions he was dying to ask.

“They wouldn’t have bothered with imprisonment if they were going to poison you. Just eat it.”

The woman practically leapt out of her skin at the sound of Loki’s voice, like she had forgotten he was there. She shrank back against the wall, gasping for breath and scanning the cell wildly. “Oh, now you wish to talk?!”

Loki’s expression remained impassive as he looked back at her. “Your unease was distracting. Just eat it,” he repeated coolly.

After a moment, she swallowed hard and nodded as she slowly pulled the tray closer to her. “Right, of course. Obviously poisoning me now would really be crossing a line…”

The woman smiled sarcastically as she spoke, and the corners of Loki’s mouth twitched underneath his stoic expression. Maintaining a sense of humor under these conditions was an impressive feat - another item to add to his growing list of questions - and he decided it might be worth it to give in to the curiosity. It would be a temporary reprieve from the nightmares, and Loki knew they were still waiting for him - but they could hold on just a little bit longer.

The woman cleared her throat as she carefully picked up the spoon with her right hand and dragged it clumsily through the porridge. Loki noticed that her other arm was still hidden within her cloak, and that her eyes flitted nervously between the dagger on her tray, her only weapon to defend herself, and the spoon, the only tool she had to feed herself.

So they kidnap her, break her dominant arm…and now they’re feeding her…

None of it made sense. Clearly they intended to keep her alive - albeit broken - for a long time, but for what purpose? Loki hated that he wanted to know, that he couldn’t resist the puzzle pieces sitting before him. He had come here to suffer, not to play games, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. “Who are you?”

The woman’s expression softened, and she looked towards him in the shadows. “My name is - ”

“No, I’m not asking for your name,” Loki replied, staring intently at her from the shadows and doing his best to ignore the optimism on her face. “Who are you to the guards?”

“Me? I’m…nobody,” she laughed nervously as she twirled the spoon through the porridge.

Loki cocked his head as he leaned forward. There had to be some explanation as to why they would go through the effort to capture but not kill her. “Then why are they feeding you?”

The woman turned her head to look in his direction, her green eyes narrowed as they searched the darkness for his. “I don’t know. Why aren’t they feeding you?”

Loki chuckled to himself; he wasn’t interested in answering questions, but he couldn’t help but admire the way she was dodging his. It had been quite a long time since he had found something so intriguing, and for a moment he almost forgot about the horrors that usually unraveled whenever he pulled on a thread.

“I already know why they aren’t feeding me. What I don’t know is why you’re getting special treatment from the masked guards.”

The woman’s expression shifted from irritation to concern as she set the spoon back down into the bowl. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten anything?”

Loki wasn’t expecting the change in her tone, or for anyone to bother showing interest in him ever again. He looked down at his hands in his lap as they fidgeted with each other. “Why? What difference does that make?”

“I was just wondering if the reason you’re so moody is because you’re…hungry.”

He swallowed hard, baffled by her conclusion and consideration. Loki was hungry, that much was true, but he wasn’t ever going to admit to that. “That’s…completely irrelevant, I - ”

The woman cleared her throat to interrupt him, and he paused as his eyes slowly traveled upwards. She was holding out the chunk of bread, extending it in his direction with a benevolent smile on her face. “Share?”

Loki’s eyebrows knitted together as he stared at her expression of sincerity and kindness, struggling to answer a simple question without an uncomplicated answer. Food wasn’t going to solve any of his problems, and yet the offer felt like a lifeline for a lost soul that had spent far too long drowning in sorrow.

He believed he didn’t deserve that lifeline, but before he could answer with what would almost certainly be a refusal, his muscles were inexorably pushing him upright. They made the decision for him, as if their need for sustenance nullified his desire to stay isolated.

Loki cautiously took a few steps closer, a massive effort for someone who had spent over a thousand days in the dark, but as he reached for the bread, the woman moved it just out of his grasp.

“If you’re going to eat with me, you can’t go back to hiding in the shadows. Agreed?” the woman offered, a slow smile creeping across her face as she looked up at him.

Her green eyes sparkled with the guileless amusement of someone who didn’t know what they were actually asking of him, and Loki was grappling with the urge to resist temptation, to fight the siren’s call of both avoidance and hostility over her simple offer of food and company.

It was foolish, and it was going to end in disaster, and Loki couldn’t understand why he was considering it at all. The years of previous mistakes had led him to believe that he couldn’t be trusted to make the right call, that the last choice he had made - the one to stay isolated from everyone and everything - was the only good thing he’d ever done.

But it was just bread, and Loki told himself that the conversation would just be temporary, and so Loki cleared his throat and set his jaw in place. “Agreed.”

The woman smiled with an innocent sort of triumph as she handed the bread back to him, and Loki felt his heart skip a beat. It was nothing, it was just a simple gesture, one that he didn’t deserve - she just didn’t know any better yet.

He pushed the feeling away as he settled back down on the stone floor again, adjacent to the shadows but not within them this time. The woman shifted her attention back to her porridge, and Loki, feeling exposed and unsure of what to do or say, focused his attention on the bread.

He turned it over in his hands, studying its shape and color - round and flat and carelessly formed, with a dark and over-cooked crust. It gave way under the pressure of his hands, snapping in half with a loud crack. Loki glanced over, and the woman was smiling softly at him.

These two strangers were sharing a meal inside a dungeon meant for horrors and torture and pain, and Loki had to remind himself to not get used to it, because the price for even the simplest of meals was always going to be regret.

“So, what should I call you?” the woman asked before bringing a spoonful of porridge to her mouth.

Loki tore off a piece of bread and put it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing to buy himself some time instead of answering. He was sure that no one here had ever heard of him, that saying his name wouldn’t set off any alarm bells - but still he hesitated. What if his reputation had somehow preceded him? What if he actually wasn’t that far outside of the Nine Realms?

A thousand other what-ifs swirled in his mind, and the woman was still waiting for an answer after sharing her kindness and food that he definitely didn’t deserve. Maybe his name would somehow cast a spell for all of his enemies to hear, and they’d finally be able to find him, and they’d make sure he never had anyone to share a meal with ever again. That was what he deserved.

“My name is…Loki.”

He braced himself for the eventual fallout, like his shame would manifest itself into the monster he knew he was, but nothing changed. The woman continued eating, perhaps only finding the time it took him to answer strange instead of the actual answer, the water droplets continued falling, and the darkness in the dungeon remained stagnant.

“And why don’t the guards bring you any food, Loki? Are they punishing you beyond locking you in here?”

It was a very loaded question, one with a very complicated answer, and Loki wasn’t sure how to handle it. He broke off another piece and put it in his mouth as he weighed his options - on the one hand, he didn’t know this woman at all, or if she was trustworthy; clearly the guards thought her important even if they hated her, but what exactly was she capable of?

But on the other hand - what did he have left to lose?

“The guards don’t know I’m here,” Loki answered truthfully. It was so unlike him to unveil himself like this, and he didn’t know whether it was because he had spent too long wallowing in apathy and simply didn’t care anymore, or if he was so desperate for connection that it weakened his sensibilities.

The woman lowered the spoon back to the bowl as her brow furrowed. “Wait - you’re hiding here? Why?”

Another loaded question, and he was really starting to regret answering them. He had come out of the shadows to be distracted, not to have someone question his actions or judgment. The woman seemed genuinely curious about him, but how could he even begin to explain himself, and what would be the point? It wouldn’t alleviate his burden, and it would only lead to more questions.

“I deserve to be here. This is where I belong,” The words felt like acid on his tongue, and Loki sighed heavily, looking down at his hands as the woman processed his words with even more confusion.

What am I - the God of Self-Sabotage?

Those words he had spoken to Mobius so long ago were intended to be sarcasm at the time, but it was still the absolute truth. It wasn’t too late to end this, to lay back down and face away from her again. It might take a bit longer than a few days, but eventually she would be just as dead as all the others, and everything could go back to the way it was supposed to be.

But he stayed where he was, exposed in small slivers of light as he crushed another chunk of bread between his teeth.

“I’m…so sorry, Loki. I cannot imagine how whatever you’re hiding from could be worse than this…” the woman replied, shaking her head as she looked around the cell. “Or how you could possibly find respite in a place like this…”

If she knew the truth, she wouldn’t be sympathizing with him right now, and Loki considered telling her about the awful things he’d done that had led him there. Just to get her to stop feeling sorry for him, to make her scared of him, to make her hide from him…because he was too broken to do anything else.

Loki didn’t respond, busying himself with chewing and swallowing, and he could feel her gaze return to him before she spoke again. “Look, whatever you’ve done - it can’t have been so bad - ”

He wanted to believe her, but she was so very wrong about him, and his heart ached as she continued justifying what she had no way of understanding, the pressure of her reassurances constricting his insides and sending blood rushing through his ears. He could barely hear what she was saying, but her expression was kind and forgiving and it was too much for him to handle.

“With all due respect - ” Loki finally snapped, interrupting and meeting her sympathetic expression with a fiercer, more intense one of his own. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know me, and you don’t know what I’ve done.”

The woman stared at him for a moment, her eyes widened in surprise, before looking back down at the tray in her lap. “You’re right. I apologize…”

Loki shook his head as heavy silence descended around them. He hadn’t meant to be so insistent, but she was in direct contradiction to the torment he was deserving of.

Tearing off another chunk of bread, they both chewed without speaking, unsure of how to continue. The air hung heavy, full of regret and musk and uncertainty, but he could feel the woman’s gaze shifting to and from him, like she wanted to ask him another question. He could only pray that it wasn’t about himself.

“So, um…do you happen to know who the dungeon guards are? Or what they want from me, or the others?”

Loki was unable to hide the snark still lingering in his tone. “How am I supposed to know what they want with you?”

The answer to that question was what had initially drawn him out of the shadows in the first place, and he was vexed that she had somehow managed to turn his interrogation on its head so easily.

The woman either didn’t notice his growing irritation, or was deliberately ignoring it. “And I take it no one’s coming to rescue you?”

He sighed and leaned back against the stone wall. It was cold and unyielding, like the cruel fate he deserved, like the harsh loneliness he had felt his entire life. No one would have come to save him, even if they knew where he was.

Somehow his cellmate seemed to understand that, judging by the forlorn look in her eyes. Loki felt raw and exposed, oddly juxtaposed against his desperate need to be understood - a feeling he thought was dead and buried a long time ago. Why was this happening? How did she do this to him?

The woman moved her tray to the floor and stared intently at him. “Look, no one’s coming for me either, so we need to break out on our own. It shouldn’t be too difficult if we’re working together.”

So that’s all she wanted - for him to save her. Loki ran a hand across his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. That was a choice she expected him to make, one that put her very life at stake, and more importantly - it would require him leaving in order to save her. His head already ached with the burden of it all, and that familiar dread of his previous captors forcing their own wills on him was washing over him again.

“Plus, we have the element of surprise if the guards don’t - ” the woman continued, and Loki was now positive that she was definitely ignoring his trepidation entirely. Her expression was hopeful, and he couldn’t stand it.

“No. Absolutely not. Absolutely not!” Loki seethed through gritted teeth, and his jaw clenched together as anger coursed through his veins. “If you want to leave, you’ll have to do it alone!”

Their eyes met, and she looked absolutely crushed again. He was sorry no one was coming to rescue her either, but that couldn’t be his burden to bear. He hadn’t meant to be lured into any sort of camaraderie, he just didn’t want to fall asleep again. And while Loki knew doing nothing was worse than trying and failing, he couldn’t bring himself to take the chance.

“Look, I appreciate the meal, but this was a mistake,” he sighed heavily. “You’re better off on your own.”

Loki shoved the final chunk of bread in his mouth and started to chew. And without waiting for a response, he lowered his back to the stone floor, resuming his position on his side and closing his eyes.

He told himself he was better off without her too.

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

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cutiewutiepatootie · 7 days

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An Opportunity to be Remembered

this was a request 😎

___________________________________________ tags: really none unless you count the ending as smut. I mean it’s not directly smut, it’s more of something for you to make up, but that’s just if you interpret it that way. Uh….there’s teasing lmao

notes: Not at all proofread so if there is grammatical errors just try to read past them😭. Ellie’s so cuteeeRAGAHAHAJEJWJWKDGDHSJ

You had invited to ur best friend, Ellie, over just to casually hang out after school. The two of you had been friends forever so just asking one another to come over and do the same five things you guys always did when hanging out wasn’t anything new. But it seems as today, a new addition of “activities” would be added to your list. This started with the two of you sitting on the couch just watching tv and chatting when the topic of sexuality came up, and now, you’re sitting across from each other on your bed. You knew Ellie had a few girlfriends before today, and you knew that she was more experienced than you. You can vaguely remember her last girlfriend, Dina, they were pretty good together when you think about it, but it just didn’t really work out.

“Why are we on my bed again?” You ask while giving Ellie a confused look. “I wanted to play truth or dare,” Ellie says, smirking back at you. “Are you serious?” you ask in a slightly sarcastic tone. “Truth or dare??”

“Yes, I’ll go first”

You knew Ellie could make up crazy dares. Like dares that could probably get you arrested, so you mentally decided to chose truth, but what was going to follow up your decision was way past your expectations.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

You are shocked to say the least but you didn’t let it show. You weren’t just going to lie though. The answer was no, you hadn’t kissed anyone before.

“No, I haven’t.”

“I can change that.”

You two just sat there, you sitting with your mouth hung open and more shocked than before, and Ellie, just sitting there starring off into whatever was outside of the window behind you.

“I mean, only if you’re ok with it, I’ll guide you through it.” Ellie noted, seeming like she had just now realized what she said.

“Yeah, I do want to; I’ll just follow the expert.” You replied while looking down at your blankets, not daring to look up at Ellie.

“Alright, just relax, and close your eyes, I’ll do the rest for you.”

You obliged, closing your eyes and trying to relax yourself. It was easier said than done to relax, I mean, she had done this before so obviously it was easy for her to say. So, you just tried to put up a front and act comfortable, hopefully that ease down the amount of teasing you knew you were in for. But what can you say, this is Ellie Williams, in what world wouldn’t she tease you?

You sat there for a few seconds not even feeing Ellie go an inch closer to your face.

“I didn’t feel anything.” You spoke out, slowly opening your eyes.

“That’s because I didn’t even kiss you yet.” Ellie Williams said, giggling a bit at the fact she had got you to just sit with your eyes closed for a little under a minute.

“Are you serious.” You commented, letting out an irritated sigh.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, we’ll try this again, but you really need to relax more.”

To no surprise, she noticed, but you weren’t about to waste more time arguing with her so you just sat with your eyes closed.

After what felt like hours, she kissed you. It wasn’t super quick nor passionate but it was enough to be considered a first kiss.

“How was it?” Ellie questioned, looking pretty proud of herself

“It was nice.” your reply was pretty vague. I mean, to start, it was more than just nice, the feeling was unexplainable. Second, you were already embarrassed, so why embarrass yourself more trying to think of the right words to explain it.

“That’s all, just nice?” Ellie questioned, she didn’t seem mad or confused, more so just trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I don’t feel like explaining it, do you want to stay the night, I’m tired.” You ask, finally looking at Ellie as you lay down on your bed.

“Sure, but you’re not sleeping until I get more of an explanation out of you.” She said cheekily while laying down beside you and moving some of your hair behind your ear.

“Whatever.” You replied, surrendering yourself to whatever she was going to do with you, educationally, of course.

#Ellie williams #tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #ellie Williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie Williams x fem reader

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lonesome-witching · 2 months

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Walk Me Home

Someone wanted a sequel to Seven Minutes and I was more than happy to oblige. This one does contain minor smut. I feel like it could have been worse but it is nsfw. Hope you enjoy.

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

“You’re not into Nancy anymore, right?” Robin took a sip of her drink.

“What? No, of course not. Why do you ask?” Steve had to shout over the music. Robin searched for a hint of a lie in his words, something in his voice or his phrasing. But there was nothing. No hint of dishonesty.

“Just because of earlier.”

“Seven minutes? I’m glad you got to spend time with her.”

Robin nodded. She could still feel Nancy’s skin under her fingertips. She could still feel her lips pressed against her own. She would probably crave that feeling for the rest of her life. It reminded her of the saying ‘never meet your hero’s’. And she had done so much worse. She had kissed them and put her hand up her skirt.

“I’m far too drunk to drive home,” Nancy said, popping up out of nowhere. Steve smiled at Robin, nudging her closer.

“I don’t have a license.” It was a stupid answer. But a truthful one. It was probably best she didn’t drive.

“Perfect, we can share a cab together.” Nancy threw her arms around Robin’s neck. Like a clingy girlfriend. Robin loved it. She indulged in the warmth Nancy’s body offered.

“Yeah, it’s just that Steve—”

“Steve doesn’t mind, does he?”

“Not at all, I’m a big boy. I can find my way home.”

Robin made a note to thank Steve in the morning. Maybe she’d cover a shift for him at the video store. “Alright, well, in that case I’m all ready to go.”

“Great! You can take care of me. Won’t you, Robbie?” The nickname was new. Not that she minded.

“Yeah, of course.”

Nancy started dragging her out the house. Robin wasn’t sure what to say or do. All she could do was follow, allow Nancy to pull her into the cool night air. They walked for a bit, away from the house before Nancy stopped in the middle of the street.

“I might have forgotten to call a cab. I’m sorry. Do you mind walking? My place isn’t too far. You can crash there, if you want.”

“I don’t mind. Walking, I mean.” Robin held out her hand for Nancy, just to make sure she didn’t fall. But surprisingly, Nancy was walking in a perfectly straight line. She must have a steady hand if she can keep control of her body this well while also slurring her words. It was very Nancy Wheeler of her. Exactly as Robin had imagined her.

“And what about the sleeping over? Do you mind that?” Nancy asked. Her words still partly slurred.

“No, not at all. You did ask me to take care of you, so I have to, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.” Nancy poked her cheek.

They walked in silence for a little while. Robin listened to the sound of their footsteps on the pavement. Nancy’s heels sounded nice. That clacked almost rhythmically, forming a song. One Robin never imagined she’d get to hear up close. She tried to memorize it. She tried to memorize all of it. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get to be this close to Nancy again. She had to take what she could get and relive it every single night when she returned to her loneliness.

“This is it,” Nancy said, swerving for the first time to bump into Robin’s shoulder. Her hands searched for the keys in her pockets. She fished out a keychain before dropping it on the ground. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m a bit clumsy when I’m drunk.” Somehow Robin doubted that.

Nancy bend over, giving Robin a slightly too revealing look at her butt, to retrieve the keys. And then she unlocked the door, motioning for Robin to enter first.

“Do you want something to drink?” Nancy asked, closing the door behind her.

“No, no. I’m quite alright. I think I’ve had enough to drink already.”

“Alright, straight off to bed then.”

Robin was led up the stairs. Down the hallway. Well, not far down the hallway. Nancy’s room was the first one they encountered. “Your bedroom is nice.”

“Thank you. You don’t mind sharing a bed, do you?” Nancy walked straight up to the bed. Robin expected her to prepare it for the night, but instead she just fell down, laying on top of her covers.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.”

Robin slowly approached the bed. She wasn’t sure what else to do. The covers were pink, just like the walls. She focused on details like that, hoping to not get in her head too much. She didn’t want to think about all the implications that were surrounding her. The consequences that might haunt her in the morning. That was a problem for future her.

Once she was within reach, Nancy pulled her onto the bed. “Oof,” Robin breathed as she collided with the other girl.

“We’ve got more than seven minutes this time. You can touch me wherever you like,” Nancy whispered. She no longer slurred her words, sounding sober all of a sudden.

Robin swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m asking, Robin. I’m asking you to touch me.”

“Can I kiss you?” Robin pushed herself up on her elbows, hovering over the other girl. Hovering over the girl of her dreams.

Nancy nodded. Robin closed the distance, connecting their lips. She expected to taste the last traces of alcohol on Nancy’s lips. But she didn’t. Instead, she tasted the sweet taste of some type of soda. But mostly she tasted Nancy. She tasted heaven.

She placed a hand on Nancy’s cheek. Softly stroking the skin there, as she lazily moved her lips. It felt nice. Her body was buzzing, needing more, more, more.

“You’re so gentle,” Nancy giggled.

“I’m sorry, is that not good?” Robin pulled away, looking at Nancy’s expression, her red cheeks, her swollen lips, her smile.

“No, it’s very good. Don’t stop!”

Robin connected their lips again. Kissing rougher this time, moving her lips faster, softly biting Nancy’s bottom lip. A moan opened Nancy’s mouth and Robin used the opportunity to push her tongue in.

Her hand moved from Nancy’s cheek down to her breast. Slightly feeling her up over her shirt. Maybe this was the heavy petting Steve had mentioned before. She should probably stop. Nancy was drunk, she wasn’t in her right mind. Sober Nancy would never want this. Would never want her.

It took some effort for Robin to pull away, sitting down next to Nancy.

“Did I do something wrong?” There was a frown on Nancy’s face, her eyes staring up at Robin, pleading.

“No, I just think it might be best to not get carried away while you’re drunk. I don’t want you to have any regrets in the morning.”

“I’m not drunk, Robin.”

“You are.”

Nancy shook her head, sitting up. “I’m not, I’ve barely had any alcohol at all. Just some sweet drinks and water.”

“But you said—”

“That was a ruse. I wanted to get you in my bed,” Nancy’s fingers drew figure eights on Robin’s hand.

“What?”

“I had ulterior motives. I wanted to finish what we started in the closet.”

“So, you are sober?”

Nancy nodded.

“And you want this?”

“Yes, Robin. I really, really want this.” She bit her bottom lip, right where Robin had.

It was all Robin needed, the confirmation that Nancy wanted this. Her hands reached for Nancy’s waist, pulling her closer. But Nancy took control quickly, pushing Robin down on to the bed. She pushed her hands under Robin’s shirt.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Robin shook her head, pushing Nancy’s hand up higher. “Touch me, Nancy.”

Nancy did, pushing Robin’s shirt up until it was bunched up around her neck. Her entire chest was exposed. Nancy’s hand reached for Robin’s breast, her fingers softly pulling at her nipple. Robin couldn’t contain the moan.

“Just like that,” she whispered.

“Yeah? You like that?” Nancy’s hands got rougher, squeezing and pulling.

“Yes,” Robin moaned. “I like that. Don’t stop.”

Nancy leaned down, capturing a nipple in her mouth, sucking. Robin’s moans got louder. She worried about being too loud, turning Nancy off, waking up the neighbors. But Nancy merely hummed around Robin’s boob. It felt good, it felt so good.

Nancy’s right hand slid down Robin’s chest, until she could push it under Robin’s waistband. Her fingers toying with Robin’s underwear. “Is this alright?”

“Yes, yes. It’s perfect, you’re perfect.”

Nancy’s fingers slid into Robin’s underwear. “Oh, you’re wet.”

“Is that surprising to you?”

Nancy just smiled, pressing her finger against Robin’s clit. Moving her finger in circles. Making Robin feel good. So good.

“Nance, more, please,” she moaned. She tried to memorize every touch. She tried to memorize the way it felt when Nancy pushed her fingers inside. How they pumped in and out of her. Faster, faster, faster. Nancy’s other hand replaced the fingers on Robin’s clit. She could feel herself drifting away.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck!” She was going to come ridiculously fast. She was so close. So close with Nancy’s hands down her pants making her feel good. “I’m gonna—” Robin came with Nancy’s fingers still inside of her.

She was rewarded with a kiss. Lips lazily moving against her own as she came down from her high. “How was that?”

“Incredible, wonderful, fantastic, perfect. Give me two minutes and I’ll repay the favor.”

“Take your time.” Nancy sat up straighter. Her hands reached for the bottom of her shirt, quickly pulling it over her head. Her bra was next. She didn’t stop stripping until she was entirely naked, laying herself down next to Robin. “I’m patient.”

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #smut

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