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#take a day just to think about it and mull over it in my head
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.
Word Count: 9.8 k
Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision
Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more. 
“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”
Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force. 
“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind. 
“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.
Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.
Fuck, this is bad.
Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”
“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.
“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.
“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off. 
“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected. 
Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him. 
With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.
Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.
The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.
Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.
Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.
It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.  
Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.
Who said you needed to rush off anyway? 
As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.
Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.   
Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.  
And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.
Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace. 
“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.
“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”
It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways. 
Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis. 
He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet. 
The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted. 
“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips. 
Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.
If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…
Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself. 
He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.
…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon. 
A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest. 
You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.
“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.
Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”
Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.
“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.
Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.
“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs. 
More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.
Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.
“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face. 
There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him. 
Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.
“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”
“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.
His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.
“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.” 
Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork. 
“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.  
He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away. 
“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips. 
“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.  
There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.
Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.
“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.
You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”
Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.
He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.
The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.   
It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon. 
“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”
You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.
There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.” 
“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss. 
“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.
“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.
Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed. 
Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.
One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling. 
He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.
There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”
This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold. 
“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race. 
Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”
“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.  
“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.
Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.
An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base. 
With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office. 
“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.
“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?” 
“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.
He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.
Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze. 
“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.
Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”
Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?” 
The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.
Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.  
“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”
The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart. 
He has dragged you into hell with him.
“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”
“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.
Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”
The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said. 
Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”
With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.  
The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known. 
Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.
Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you. 
He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight. 
“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably. 
More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible. 
“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”
That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured. 
“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.
Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.
“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.
Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”
“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”
“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”
More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before. 
“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?
Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”
He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think. 
You can give him time, right?
“Please, Simon, just look at me.”
Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.
“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another. 
Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”
Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time. 
Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.
“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.
Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”
You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same. 
Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen. 
Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.
But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.
Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way. 
Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours. 
Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”
“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”
Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”
Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”
The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.
He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”
In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.
“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern. 
You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head. 
Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”
Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?
Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?” 
You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”
Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness. 
“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”
Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.
Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had. 
Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.
You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.   
“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today. 
“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go. 
You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”
“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”
You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside. 
“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.
There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.  
You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.
“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.” 
Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?
It doesn’t make sense.
“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…” 
Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”
More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant. 
“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 
“Are you saying you want to go against Price?” 
His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else. 
“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”
“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth. 
You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.
At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.
Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…” 
You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid. 
Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.
“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”
He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?” 
You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.” 
Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.
A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg. 
Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.   
“Make it count,” you breathe.
You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.   
His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.
“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets. 
He is gone.
The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.
The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…
What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it. 
He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.
The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?  
It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?
Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.
“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”
The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”
Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.
“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”
“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.
“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this. 
“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”
Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”
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wzrd-wheezes · 3 days
Text
Game On - Sirius Black x Reader Smut
Request: what do you think of established relationship sirius black x fem!reader edging + desperate banging (maybe overstimulation done by who u choose to be the one that snaps first as a sort of “punishment” even tho they’re both in this together 💀)
sirius and reader share the same braincells and are in a very lovey-dovey relationship but one day they feel bored and want to try adding a little ✨spice✨ into their relationship, so they come up with this plan to shake things up a bit: they get dressed up to look their best and go to a club/pub/etc where they flirt with other people while looking at each other till one of them snaps and drags the other to a bathroom or another secluded place and desperately go at it with each other
AN - one thing i love about you guys is that when i ask for smut requests, i know that you'll deliver!! Also, if you guys would like, i can write a part 2/ alternat ending where sirius loses the competition and ends up in the same situation as reader…?
Warnings: this starts off fine but by the end gets pretty filthy. Nothing too weird but -contains: light bondage, edging, slight overstimulation. 3.3k words
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sirius asked as her zipped up his girlfriend’s dress. They were stood in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, and he gazed at her reflection as he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. 
“I’m sure. It was my idea after all.” 
“I know. I’m just making sure.”  
They had been inseparable since their school days, the two of them practically joined at the hip. Yet, within the comfort of their connection, a desire for something new lingered. It was something that they had mulled over countless times, the idea of injecting some excitement into their relationship. When Y/N mentioned the idea, Sirius readily agreed.  
The agenda for the evening was a competition of sorts. They were going to head to one of the local bars, each of them going their separate ways upon arrival. It was a test of wills to see who would crack with jealously as they both flirted and danced with strangers.  
“You’re going down, Black.” Y/N smiled cheekily, pecking him on the lips as she grabbed her bag and headed to the door. 
“Game on.” he grinned.  
The bar that they had chosen was heaving. From the moment they entered, they were enveloped in a kaleidoscope of colours. Neon lights danced across the walls, casting vibrant hues of pink, purple and blue onto the mass of people dancing. The room itself wasn’t very big, a bar lined one wall, and a large dancefloor took centre stage, tall tables filled the space in between. It was large enough so that Y/N and Sirius could distance themselves, but small enough that they could constantly keep an eye on each other.  
They both headed towards the bar, eager to get a drink. Sirius went to one end, Y/N to the other. Y/N slipped onto one of the tall bar stools, resting her chin in her hand as she waited for the bartender to come and take her order. 
“What can I get for you, gorgeous?” the bartender asked, leaning forward slightly. Caught off guard, Y/N felt a faint flush creep onto her cheeks. 
“Surprise me.” she replied playfully. 
His grin widened at her response as he accepted the challenge. With practiced ease, he made her a cocktail, his hands moving gracefully as he poured and mixed with precision. As he slid the drink across the bar towards her, their fingers brushed briefly, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins.  
Sirius was at the other end of the bar lounged against the polished surface; whisky glass perched in his ring clad fingers. His gaze swept across the crowded room planning his next move. As he sipped his drink, his attention was momentarily diverted to his girlfriend at the other side of the bar, engaged in animated conversation with the bartender. ‘Damn, she’s quick,’ he thought as a flicker of emotion crossed his features before he masked it with a playful grin, catching her eye and raising his glass in a silent toast. He quickly downed the rest of his drink before ordering another.  
It didn’t take long for him to find someone to flirt with, as he scanned the room he locked eyes with a girl sat alone at one of the tall tables towards the dance floor. Grabbing his drink, he made his way over. Sirius flashed a charming smile as he approached the girl, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 
“Mind if I join you?” he had already pulled out the chair before giving her time to answer. 
“Depends,” the girl looked up, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “Are you planning on buying me a drink?”  
“Of course.” Sirius replied with a mock-indignant tone, “What’s your poison?”  
By the time Sirius headed back to the bar to buy their drinks, Y/N had already left. He glanced around for her, expecting her to be still chatting to the bartender, but she wasn’t there. Sirius frowned a little, scouring the bar for sight of his girlfriend as he waiting for their drinks to be made. He found her as he headed back to the table, she was sat directly opposite from him on the other side of the room. Her head was thrown back as she laughed at whatever it was that whoever she was talking to said. 
As Sirius approached the bar to order their drinks, he realised that Y/N was no longer there. Confusion flickered across his features as he had half-expected her to still be engaged in conversation with the bartender.  
Frowning slightly, Sirius cast a searching gaze around the bar, his eyes darting from one corner to the next in a bid to locate his girlfriend. It wasn’t until he got back to the table that he spotted her, seated across the room from him, her laugher ringing out amidst the lively atmosphere. A pang of jealously stirred within him as he watched Y/N interact with the man she was sat with. He took a sip of his drink, determined not to let her win their little competition. 
As Sirius sat back down, the girl’s eyes lit up with amusement, her lips curling into a playful smile as she took in his arrival. 
“Well, well, look who’s back,” she teased, “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me for good.” 
Sirius chuckled, sliding into the chair opposite her with a grin, “Sorry about that. Had to navigate through the crowd of admirers just to get our drinks.” 
“Well, I’m flattered you braved the crowds for me.” 
Sirius let out an amused laugh, but he couldn’t keep his attention off of Y/N. Although the conversation between Sirius and the girl flowed effortlessly, each sentence punctuated with flirtatious banter, he spent every spare second eyeing up his girlfriend. 
As soon as Y/N saw that Sirius had gone to sit with another girl, she knew that she had to take it up a level. There was absolutely no way that she was giving him the satisfaction of winning. After her short conversation with the bartender, another man had approached her and offered to buy her a drink which she politely accepted. He led her over to the table that he was sat on, and much to Y/N’s amusement, it was directly opposite from Sirius.  
“You have a gorgeous smile, by the way.” the man said, reaching a hand out to touch her arm. 
“Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?” Y/N smirked. 
“I certainly hope so.” 
As Y/N and Sirius found themselves engrossed in conversations across the crowded club, a subtle game of jealousy unfolded between them, each vying to capture the other’s attention. Y/N had really upped the flirtatiousness, laughing slightly louder than usual, leaving lingering touches on the man’s arm. She couldn’t help but look over at Sirius, her heart racing with anticipation at the thought of his reaction.  
It was only when Y/N saw Sirius lean in a little too closely to the girl that she knew she needed to up her game.  
“Wanna dance?” she asked.  
He had introduced himself, but the name slipped from her mind almost as soon as he said it. Adam? Alex? Aaron. It didn’t matter much to her, to be honest. She wasn’t particularly invested in him, merely seeing him as a means to an end in her quest to provoke Sirius. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for his unwitting role in her scheme. Nevertheless, Adam/Alex/Aaron seemed eager enough to accept her invitation to dance.  
As they moved to the music, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way that Sirius’s gaze lingered on them from across the room. With each movement, she could feel his eyes burning into her, a silent testament to the effect that she was having on him.  
Feeling a surge of exhilaration, Y/N leaned in closer to her dance partner, her movements growing more playful with each passing moment. She glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with Sirius, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips.  
Sirius, quite frankly, had had enough. Still locking eyes with his girlfriend, he picked up his glass and drained the contents before turning to the girl (who he had now found out was called Jess) and asked her to dance. 
“Fancy a dance then?”  
“You don’t strike me as much of a dancer.” she narrowed her eyes at him skeptically. 
“Guess you’ll have to find out then, won’t you?” he replied, extending his hand towards her.  
Y/N and Sirius were now only a few meters apart, both dancing with their respective partners. With each playful twirl and flirtatious touch, Y/N felt a pang of jealously gnaw at her insides. Her jaw clenched slightly as she fought to keep her composure. As the music pounded, Y/N’s movements became more deliberate, each step calculated to catch Sirius’s attention. Just as she was sure that Sirius was near to reaching breaking point, she saw red. A fleeting look over at Sirius had revealed the girl’s hands tangled in his hair as she reached up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear. Sirius had laughed, his hand resting on her waist. With her heart pounding in her chest, she approached Sirius, tugging sharply on his arm. 
“You win.”  
“Well, I hate to say I told you so.” Sirius teased, his tone laced with playful arrogance, “But I did warn you that you wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes at him as she grabbed a hold of his hand and led him out of the bar. 
“You’re awfully eager to get home for someone that has quite a hefty forfeit waiting for them.” he mused, “you did remember that part of the game, right?” 
“As if I could forget.” Y/N fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock their front door, “It’s all I’ve been thinking about all night.” 
“Yeah? Did you get jealous, baby?” Sirius kicked the front door shut behind him, swiftly pressing Y/N against the wall, “You were trying so hard to get me to bite, weren’t you?” 
Sirius had suddenly switched, his eyes darkening as he pressed himself against her. Y/N’s head was tipped back against the wall as he pressed sloppy, desperate kisses up the collum of her neck. 
“You better head upstairs, you’ve got a long night ahead of you, gorgeous.” 
Within minutes of being in their bedroom, Sirius had her naked, and spread out on the bed, her hand expertly tied to the headboard. He on the other hand, was fully clothed, save for his white dress shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest revealing the tattoos that adorned his skin. He stood at the edge of their bed, staring down at her cockily. 
“Poor girl.” he tutted, “You wanted to win so bad, didn’t you? Didn’t want to be the one tied up and teased when we got home, did you? Was a silly idea from you, really, because you were never going to win.” 
“I was close.” Y/N argued, “You nearly snapped first. ‘Saw it in your eyes when I was dancing.” 
“Mhm. I didn’t like that he had his hands all over you. That’s my job.” Sirius said, “I almost feel bad for him –s pending his night talking to you when all you could think about all night was how good I was going to fuck you when we got home.” 
Y/N whined, tugging against her restraints. Sirius just chuckled, kneeling down on the edge of the bed, nudging her legs open.  
“That’s right, isn’t it? I bet every time he touched you, all you could think about was me. How I’d be making you beg for me as soon as we got home.” 
“Sirius, please.”  
“This wet already?” he slid a finger through her folds, “Were you soaked all night just thinking about me?” 
Y/N groaned and nodded. She knew Sirius would get like this if he won and she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t enjoying every single second of it.  
“Y-yes, Sirius, been thinking about you all night.” 
He smirked as he pushed one of his fingers inside of her, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. He pumped it inside a few times before slowly adding another one. 
“So eager for me.” he murmured, “It’s going to be a little while before I let you come though.” 
“I know...” Y/N whispered, “Just, don’t stop. Please.” 
Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. He had no intentions of stopping any time soon. Dipping his head down to meet the sensitive flesh, he licked a slow deliberate stripe over her clit. Y/N struggled, yanking against her restraints, desperate to weave her hands through his hair. When Sirius pulled away, her hips bucked up instinctively, eager to have his touch. 
“How many times do you think I need to edge you before you go completely dumb for me?” Sirius asked, sickly sweet smile on his face, “Usually five does the trick doesn’t it? But tonight, you seem so desperate already. I don’t think it’ll take that many at all.” 
“Please. Not five.” she whimpered, looking down at him pleadingly. 
“No?” 
Sirius sat up, raking a hand through his dark hair as he reached down into the box that they kept tucked under their bed. Y/N’s eyes widened, knowing exactly what he was searching for. She heard it before she saw it, the soft buzzing sound that filled the room. Sirius pressed the vibrator gently against her clit, resuming his previous position and sliding two fingers back inside of her. 
“Good girl.” he cooed, “Feel good, baby?”  
Y/N nodded, her head tipped back against the pillows, mouth slightly open. Sirius turned the vibrator up notch, causing a soft moan to fall from her lips. The girl’s hips rocked forward onto Sirius’s fingers, earning a smirk from him.  
“Tell me when you get close.” 
A few moments passed, the motion of her hips becoming quicker, trying to meet the rhythm of Sirius’s thrusts.  
“C-close.” she gasped, her eyes screwing shut, “Can I come?” 
“Nope.” 
Sirius turned the vibrator off and removed his fingers. Y/N whimpered at the loss of stimulation, frowning down at her boyfriend. 
“Don’t look so disappointed. You knew this was going to happen when we decide to do our little competition,” Sirius nipped at the skin of her inner thigh, making her flinch, “You picked the punishments, baby. You really thought you were going to win, didn’t you? Wanted to have me all tied up and desperate?” 
“I’ll win next time. Just hated how she was touching you.”  
“Next time?” Sirius cocked his head at her, “You’re very confident for someone who’s all tied up right now.”  
“Shut u-” 
Y/N didn’t get chance to finish her sentence as Sirius switched the vibrator on and pressed it firmly back against her clit.  
“Remember your manners.” 
Sirius continued his routine of playing around with the settings out the vibrator while simultaneously fucking his girlfriend with his fingers. He knew exactly what got her going so it was no surprise that a few minutes later she was thrashing around on the bed begging him to keep going. 
“No.” 
“Please, Sirius.” 
“I said no.”  
He pressed his fingers upwards, hitting her just right, getting her just teetering on the edge of orgasm before quickly switching the vibrator off and leaving her empty once more.  
“Getting so wet for me, darling.” He held his fingers up so that she could see. Her wetness had coated his fingers and Sirius smiled proudly as he showed them to her, “Wanna taste?” 
Before she could reply, he pushed his fingers passed her lips, now slightly swollen from her biting down on them. She groaned, taking them into her mouth and swirling her tongue around his digits. 
“Dirty girl.” he said, taking his fingers out and guiding them back inside of her pussy. Just as he did before, her brought her to the edge again. And again.  
By the fourth time she was denied orgasm, her skin was glistening with sweat, her hips bucking up erratically each time he threated to remove his fingers. Her lips were read and bitten, her breath coming out in short bursts. 
“Sirius, please, please just let me come.”  
He ignored her, lazily drawing circles over her sensitive clit with his thumb. 
“Fuck. Sirius, please. God, I need it.” 
“But you sound so pretty when you beg, baby. Would be such a shame if I stopped now...” he let his voice trail off, taking in her frustrated expression for a moment before continuing, “But, seen as you asked so nicely...” 
He stood up and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding it over his toned arms and removing it. Not quite being done with the teasing, he decided to take his time getting undressed, leaving his girlfriend laying tied up and needy on the bed as she watched. He neatly folded his shirt and placed it on the chair in the corner of the room. Smirking, he stood at the foot of the bed, deft fingers removing his belt and dropping it to the floor with a clatter, he shoved his trousers and boxers down and took his cock into his hand, pumping it a few times.  
“God, you look fucking gorgeous.” he all but pounced on top of her, nuzzling his face into her neck.  
It was as it something had switched in his brain, the teasing and tormenting now long forgotten as some primal urge took over. He needed to be inside her. His lips collided with hers, the kiss hungry and urgent. He undid her restraints with one hand, not even breaking contact with her lips.  
He lined himself up with her entrance, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist as he pushed his way inside. Their moans mixed together as he entered. Having use of her hands back, Y/N couldn’t wait to touch him. Her hands moving rapidly up to tangle in his hair. Sirius rested his forehead against hers as he thrust his hips, the chain that hung from his neck dangling in her face, the cool metal cold against her flushed skin. 
“You getting close, love?” Sirius asked, feeling his girlfriend tense up around him. 
“Y-yeah. So close.” she let out a ragged breath, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 
“Come for me, baby.”  
Sirius increased his pace, driving her once more to the edge of orgasm, however, this time, he didn’t stop as she reached her peak, maintaining the steady rhythm of his thrusts as her orgasm came crashing down. She dragged her nails down his back causing him to let out a gruff moan as she convulsed around him.  
“That’s my girl.”  
“S-sensitive, Sirius. Fuck.” Y/N wriggled around on the bed, her body burning with the aftermath of her orgasm.  
“Keep going, baby. You wanted this, yeah? Spent all that time begging me to let you come.” he taunted, “Want you to come again f’me. Want you to come at the same time as me. You can do that, can’t you?” 
Y/N nodded quickly, grabbing the back of Sirius’s neck and pulling him down to kiss her. He smiled into the kiss, his hips snapping against hers as he chased his own high. His moans grew louder as she clenched around him, her hips rocking in time with his.  
“Fuck, you feel so good. Always feel so good f’me.” he growled, “Gonna come inside you, baby. Gonna fill you up.” 
Y/N’s chest heaved as she rapidly approached her peak once again. She could feel Sirius growing closer and close with each movement. The roll of his hips started to stutter and he sunk his teeth into the flesh between her shoulder and neck and he climaxed. Y/N followed suit, once again wrapping her legs around him, drawing him as close as she possibly could.  
They both collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. Sirius reached over to brush her hair out of her face, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazed lovingly at her.  
“Good game?” he reached down to catch her lips sweetly with his. 
“Good game.”  
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overtaken-stream · 1 day
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What's your opinion on Katakuri being a dad ^-^, ik he doesnt pull out
Father!Katakuri headcanons
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This is all my brain can come up with. It's a bit short, and I'm not satisfied with this, I feel like I could have added more, thus this has been collecting dust in my drafts. I hope you like it anon.
Warnings: End of Wano spoilers, this is meant for F!Reader.
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I imagine he had children after Big Mom passed. Or a few years before she died, and of course, the marriage was arranged once Big Mom realized that she might just be left without any offspring from her third child.
And as much as I'd like to get lost in Father Katakuri, I can not ignore the warning signs this road presents.
The man doesn't see his children often enough. He always wanted to spend time with his family, but in this job, that isn't possible. Big Mom often holds his family over his head, making empty promises about him having a week off to help take care of the children, only to call him back before the sun rises on the fourth day. He had the courage to ask her for more time at the beginning, or to not disturb him during that single week where he spends time in metaphorical paradise with kids whom he loves and his partner whom he tries to shower with affection. He asked that of her once and when Big Mom does not deliver, Katakuri learns to cope with the dissatisfaction, it's a song he has heard of all his life, he knows every word and note that plays, he wants nothing more than to stop listening so that his kids don't step away from him again. It's impossible, and he comes to terms that he won't have that fatherly privilege. He feels like a stranger around the kids. No amount of comfort will be able to hide the truth.
It isn't the first time Big Mom pushed away a father from his biological children.
Although his time with his kids is short, it's always full of adorable moments, Katakuri is trying very hard to be a father even with his mother standing in his way.
I see Katakuri as a father of 3. Two girls and one boy, who is the youngest.
The man loves sweets, donuts, chocolate bars, cinnamon buns, and all, so he will be DEVASTATED if one of his kids isn't a big fan of sweets. He'll try to make them change their mind, maybe persuading them to eat a different kind of dessert, but once it becomes clear that they aren't into it, he accepts the fact with great pain, since he cannot share the simple pleasure of eating sugar with his child.
Katakuri often can't get his emotions across to others, including his siblings, but with his children, he tries, he really tries. This can be seen in spending quick yet platonically intimate moments with them alone and making small talk that he isn't a big fan of.
He also hopes that when the children grow up, there won't be any distance between them, it's basically a death sentence for him.
The moment Big Mom dies, Katakuri is finally able to keep his promise to his family and breathe with no one holding his leash.
I also think of him as a laid-back father who's strict when needed. His behavior is the result of countless years he spent mulling over his future family and what type of parent he would be. So this led to him walking on metaphorical eggshels that he imagined every time he got close to his children. Which they definitely took for granted.
Katakuri is very careful with his children because of it, I'd say that he is so scared that the kids would build a wall and be mad at him for not spending enough time with them that the man unconsciously started constructing the said wall.
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byanyan · 3 months
Text
byan disappears for two days but instead of emerging strung out and skittish like usual, their hands and arms are covered in paint and ink stains and they're a little distant but hungry as hell
#byan occasionally hiding away to work on a piece of art from beginning to finish to limit outside distractions#bc they have something in their head that they desperately need to get out#and if they lose focus at any point they'll never come back to finish it#it's probably no surprise to hear that these pieces are usually tied to their trauma#they get it in their head that if they get the vivid imagery out onto paper they'll be able to stop thinking about it (they won't)#but if they take a break at any point or get distracted and stop... coming back later is hard#oftentimes they end up destroying the unfinished piece when that happens bc now that they've had some distance#they don't want to relive the event again just to finish it#it's a coping mechanism they don't use often - at least not on this level#their sketchbooks are full of pieces like this but those are smaller and less elaborate - ones they finish in hours rather than days#sometimes certain pieces call for being bigger and more detailed... it just depends on how it looks in their mind#just smth that's been in my head for a couple days now that I've been mulling over idk#I think sometimes there's a little substance abuse that goes on at the same time too...#but not to the same level as the abuse when they disappear specifically to fuck themself up#it's more to like. make things flow and make it a little easier to sit in that memory for a prolonged period of time#so overall still not the most healthy coping mechanism :/ but it's not their WORST so. there's that.#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ headcanon ⋮ danger in the fabric of this thing i made.#drug use cw
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dragon-ascent · 3 months
Text
Imagine how curious about humanity Morax must have been when he first began ruling over them. Pre-Liyue and pre-Guili Assembly era. He probably didn't even have a human form then, so he'd lord his land in exuvia form.
"Why do you humans cover your bodies?" the draconic god asks you, eyes sweeping over the long tunic you're wearing. His elongated form coils nicely around the hilltop, with enough room still for his tail to swish around.
You're nearly sent rolling down this hill in surprise at your god's question. "Well, my lord," you squeak after a beat, "clothes protect us from the heat and cold. They also protect our modesty."
"Modesty?" he repeats.
Nodding, you continue meekly, "Our bodies are precious and certain parts are private. It's embarrassing for other people to see them..." Your face burns with every word you say.
The god mulls this over for a moment. "I see. It is a body possessed by all, yet it must be concealed...how intriguing."
Not wanting to let this drag on, you start to turn around. "I-if you'll excuse me, my lord, I need to go take a bath. It's been a long day outside..."
Morax seems to think for a moment. "Very well. Allow me to assist you." His tail wags.
Your eyes widen. "Assist with - with the bath?!"
"Yes. Why not?"
It feels like you'll explode from the mortification. "Modesty, my lord...I wish to protect my modesty!" You fret over whether he'll find it rude if you just took off and ran right about now.
Morax tilts his head, his fur whipping in the evening breeze. "But I am not a human, so you needn't protect yourself from me. And as a god, it is my duty to help my people where I am able."
"So kind of you, yes! But no thank you! Goodbye!" You practically tumble down the hill to get away, leaving a slightly nonplussed Morax behind.
Unfortunately, the river you go to bathe in is also the river Morax has decided to drink from today. He maintains eye contact with you the whole time.
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arachine · 8 months
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*slides a big fat twenty your way* uh how about a part two of that non traditional family dynamics with gojo
dinner and a disaster . . .
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synopsis :: when your oldest daughter is at that age where boys are starting to become the focal point of her universe, you bring out the big guns — which in this case, unfortunately happens to be her father (who is not exactly the best when it comes to disciplining his little girls).
or, in other words, you and gojo play good cop bad cop.
genre :: fluff
contents :: co-parent!gojo, mentions of alcohol, heavy dialogue, time skip (the girls are 14 and 12 respectively), gojo is in distress !!!!
note :: link to part 1 + link to part 3
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it's 10 pm when you text gojo about the latest happenings going on in your household.
it's also 10:01 pm when you answer his incoming face time call.
he's wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, laying down on his bed with a pillow under his chin and a hand propped up to support his head—he's comfortable, to say the least, and 100% tuned in to hear about whatever it is that you just texted him.
"is this what you've been doing all day?" you query with a laugh. there's a brief look of confusion etched onto his face before he picks up on what you were implying. rolling his eyes, he scoffs.
"it was my day off," he pouts, "can't a man relax in his fuzzy blanket?"
you squint teasingly at the screen, then nod slowly before mouthing an 'uh-huh'.
"i didn't call you to get berated about my choice of blanket!"
"okay, okay! i'm sorry," you grab a napkin from your nightstand, waving it like a white flag of surrender. "such a baby..."
"says the one who could never take...you know what, i won't finish that."
"smart man," you smile. "i want to be mad at you sometimes but it's almost kinda impressive how easily you can change the atmosphere...i mean, wow! it's record-breaking, truly."
"ha...ha. alright. i overstepped my bounds, i get it. can we just...can we just get back to our daughter? i'm starting to regret calling you on my day off—which, by the way, was going so great."
"great, love that we're on the same page," you give him a thumbs up through the screen. before you can get into the nitty-gritty of the situation, you take a brief pause to prepare yourself for the dramatics about to ensue—because if you know anything about gojo satoru, you know he's definitely one for the dramatics.
"when i tell you this...i want you to stay calm, keep a level head, and most importantly, i want you not to scream," you say, opening your mouth again to emphasize the last part, "and it's important that you especially won't scream, okay?"
gojo mulls it over before committing, "i don't know...it depends on what you're gonna tell m-"
"just—just promise, gojo," you interrupt, clearly agitated.
"alright, i promise."
"okay, so there's a boy..."
you're mid-sentence when gojo's eye starts to twitch.
"and she's expressed to me that she wants to go on a date with him." when you finish, you're half expecting him to yell, and half expecting him to end the call. but he doesn't.
in fact, he's so still, you're almost convinced he's frozen, but then he begins to smile. slow at first, and then all at once. it's creepy, you think, something straight out of a horror film.
"i know this was a lot of information to process, are you...okay?"
"pfttt, what? of course, why wouldn't i be?"
"well, you look scary. maybe i shouldn't have told yo-"
"SHE WANTS TO WHAT?"
and there it is. gojo satoru, king of dramatics.
"my little girl, my baby, my princess. she's only 10!-"
"she's 14."
"same thing, how could you let this happen?!"
"what happened to not yelling?! you promised!"
"oh be serious, i made a vow to you 14 years ago and look where we are now," he whisper-yells, trying (and failing) to contain his voice.
"dammit, you're right...well, at least we're on the same page! we both don't want this date to happen." when you take another glance at the screen, gojo's no longer laying down on his bed, but up and pacing around his room like a mad man.
you watch him for awhile, and when he doesn't seem to be coming back any time you soon, you call his name, "satoru."
"what?!" he turns to the phone. glaring at him, you wait for him to check his tone. "sorry, what?"
"i was thinking tomorrow you could come over for dinner? it'd give us a chance to talk to her about it...so that it's not just me telling her no."
"so, what i'm hearing is that you want her to hate me too?"
"no, i'm saying i want us to be a team. so, can you come over tomorrow? can you do that?" you ask, raising a brow.
"yeah, i'll be there."
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at the same time the oven alarm goes off, gojo arrives. you can see his car pull into the drive way from where you are in the kitchen, and you mentally curse yourself for not getting ready sooner.
"fuck, uh okay," you throw your oven mitts, "hon, can you get the door for your dad? i need to go upstairs and get changed."
the youngest gets up from her place on the couch, "sure, wait...dad's staying for dinner? what's the occasion?"
you're halfway up the stairs before you stop, "enough questions, please. just open the door, thank youuuu."
ambling from the living room to the foyer, she opens the front door. gojo smiles, and immediately lifts her up into a bone-crushing hug that only a dad could give.
"hey bug, missed you," he squeezes her, much to her behest.
"ugh, dadddd, put me down," she drawls, pawing at his chest. gojo frowns and puts her down, putting a hand over his heart as if he were shot.
"you used to love that, you know."
"yeah, when i was like five."
"are you not?" he teases, but she's not amused. he nudges her arm annoyingly until she begins to smile. "there we go, punk. now can i have a real hug? you're hurting my feelings."
like a true pre-teen, she rolls her eyes and reluctantly trudges over to him, then opens her arms up for a hug. at this stage, you've noticed that hugs are okay, but only when it's on their own terms—and you especially can't initiate them when their friends are around (you learned that the hard way).
when they pull away, gojo takes his shoes off and wanders through the house. "where's the other brat at?"
"upstairs."
gojo nods, "uh-huh...where's your mom at?"
"right here." gojo hears you before he sees you, and then he lifts his head up to see you at the top of the stairs standing behind the banister. before you make your way downstairs, you waltz over to your daughter's room and knock on the door.
"hey, dinner's ready. come on downstairs. somebody's here to see you." as you begin turning around, the door flies open and out comes your moody teenage daughter.
"who is it?" she queries, following behind you like a duckling.
from where he stands at the bottom of the staircase, gojo raises a hand and waves.
"hey, scrub."
"dad? what are you doing here?" your oldest questions, but still goes in for a hug.
"your mom invited me over for dinner, that cool with you?"
she nods, then turns to her sister. they exchange a knowing look that, if translated, would be: something's definitely up. they wait for you and gojo to head to the kitchen before having a quick debrief.
"you definitely did something," the youngest side eyes.
"wha-why would you think i did something? you're the one failing a class," she rebuttals.
"ok well...this isn't about me! they only get together when one of us does something. don't you see? they're teaming up...this is an intervention."
the oldest pinches the space between her brows, "i can see why you're failing english now, because the way you just jumped to conclusions like that is actually insane."
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dinner goes by without a hitch. for majority of it, you spend the time talking about work, school (which seems like a sensitive subject because the youngest wouldn't look either of you in the eye), and the plot of this hbo show with adult kids who're trying to take over their father's company.
gojo brings it up, of course, and jokingly says that the show was written with him in mind. he asks the girls if they'll fight over who'll inherit the company when he dies, and it turns into a i'm the better daughter debate.
when it gets a little too rowdy, you have to remind them that this is all hypothetical and that their father is a menace who likes to cause chaos whenever possible. gojo pouts and says you're no fun, but quickly fixes his face when he sees your pointed glare.
"come help me with the dishes," you say, and then disappear into the kitchen.
the two of you fall back into old habits. you wash the dishes, he dries and sets them on the rack. it feels like it did in the beginning, only this time, he'll be leaving when the two of you set out to do what you originally intended.
"dinner was nice," he says after about 10 minutes of comfortable silence. he doesn't look up, doesn't even make a joke about your cooking (which, you were totally expecting him to do). instead, he just continues drying the plate you handed to him.
"you know, you're welcomed to come again. you don't always have to be away in that apartment all by yourself," you start, choosing your words carefully, gently. "the girls like eating with their dad."
"i like eating with them too. i guess i'll start coming by more often then."
you almost miss it but there's a smile on his face, and it's genuine. instead of pointing it out, you savor the moment.
your reasoning for his coming here was to talk to your daughter, but it was also to get him out of the apartment. see, you were sneaky like him too, and what he didn't know wouldn't kill him. to you, this was just hitting two birds with one stone.
when you finish up, the two of you discuss the plan over for what seems like the 100th time.
"so, we're gonna go in there and be cool about it, okay? we won't hound her. we're just gonna tell her like it is, and then let her down gently. got it?"
"got it."
"after you," gojo extends his arm.
"wha-ugh, fine."
as you lead the way, gojo has to keep a hand on your back to keep you from turning back around. so far, you've attempted to retreat five times—you're two feet away from the kitchen entrance.
"will you just go?" there's irritation laced in his tone.
"okay, just stop pushing me."
"no promises, keep walking."
you sigh, but heed his request. with a hand still on your back, he guides you all the way to the living room. the girls are watching tv but quickly avert their focus when they notice you standing next to the couch with a freakish smile plastered on your face. gojo whispers in your ear to be cool and you immediately gather your wits.
"mom...your face...dad what's wrong with her face she's scaring me," the youngest pauses the tv.
"sweetie, will you go upstairs for a minute? your dad and i have to talk to your sister."
seeming to be catching on, she gets up from the couch and says a 'told you' to her sister before running upstairs. you and gojo share a look.
"what's up?" she asks, still weirded out.
"you see, well...we've been talking and..." you start, "your father has something he wants to tell you!"
gojo snaps his head towards you, gasping in the same motion. "hey, what the hell happened to being cool?"
"no promises, remember?"
"oh, you litt-"
"dad."
"sorry, uh, shit. i wasn't prepared for this. this wasn't the plan," he begins, "so, i heard there's a boy...and...you're at that age where boys are cute..."
she looks at the two of you in abhor and groans. gojo pauses briefly, but you encourage him to continue.
"and i've come to understand that you're interested in one and want to go on a date?"
"yeah."
"oh...okay well, i—we just don't think that's a good idea. you're 14, in school, and honey, you're so young...you have your whole life to be interested in boys."
"wait, what do you mean 'we'?"
"your mom and i talked about it and-"
"mom said she was fine with it."
gojo smiles in shock and then blinks, once, twice, three times.
"we'll be back," he announces, pulling you by the arm to the kitchen.
when you get to the kitchen, he releases your arm and pinches the skin between his brows. it takes all of about five seconds before he erupts.
"'we're a team, satoru', 'we're in this together', bullshit! you wanted me to be the bad cop, didn't you?"
"not initial-"
"didn't you!"
"okay, sorry! i may have...gave in when she asked, but i figured you'd be able to tell her no!"
"why would you think that!? she's my little girl!"
"she's my little girl too!"
gojo walks over to the cabinet and pulls out a glass. "i can't right now, i need a drink. what do you have?"
opening another cabinet, you pull out a bottle of pink whitney. gojo sucks his teeth. it was such a girl drink, but it was all you had so beggars couldn't be choosers. shrugging, he raises his glass for you to pour the drink into.
grabbing another glass, you sit down and join him.
"we've been had, huh?"
"how is that?"
"because we both can't say no to her."
gojo raises his glass to his lips and swallows it all down in a few gulps.
your daughter goes on a date the following week, and gojo starts looking into trackers.
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© arachine 2023
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jyoongim · 2 months
Text
A Deal With God
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Themes: fem!reader, Morningstar!reader, Angst, mention of character death, secrets, religious themeAlastor being Alastor, fluff, slight smut, deal-making,  soul possession, Lilith a shitty mother/wife/sister, established relationship, difficult family dynamic, there’s a trope in here I just don’t know what to call it?
Chapter 1
chapter 2
You had ordered Niffty that some rooms needed to be spruced up and took the liberty to tidy up the lobby yourself.
You hummed to the sound of the song playing on the radio as you neatly stacked whatever plans Charlie was coming up with in the night.
Charlie.
Your heart ached for the Princess.
After Lilith left, the Princess had founded a hotel to help redeem the souls of the damned.
You were unsure of her plan, but you could never deny her.
damn those puppy eyes.
So here you were, seven years later, helping your niece with her wild endeavor.
But you weren’t alone; 
“Aaahh just the doll I wanted to see!” A radio-like voice chirped.
Alastor.
You smiled in greeting to the lanky demon.
Alastor, the famed and fearsome Radio Demon.
You were a bit skeptical when he showed up at your door, but when he offered to help Charlie you took him in.
Who were you to say no to help? You needed the extra hands.
”Hello Al, did you need something?” The tall demon smiled down at you as he shook his head.
”Nooo just thought I would check in. How’s Charlie’s new plan along?” You laughed “ooh their a coming thats for sure” nodding towards the board she had made the other night.
An idea popped into your head “Why don’t you make a commercial Al ” He went to make a comment, but you interrupted him “A proper commercial. The sinners need to know the benefits of the hotel and that there is hope”
you waltz up to him, a soft smile on your as you batted your eyes at him ”pretty please?” You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He hummed, seeming to mull over the thought, chuckling
”fine fine”
You grinned “Thank you”
He whistled as he walked out the room, you smiled after him, getting back to your task.
Your phone ringed and you answered without seeing who called. “Hello?”
A nervous laugh responded “Heeeyyy bitch”
Lucifer.
You rolled your eyes “Hello to you too Luci ”
He groaned at the nickname.
”Ugghh so hows things been….” He wanted something.
“Whaaaaat? N-Nothing what makes you think I want something?” 
he couldn’t see your face, but you were making a pointed face.
”Okay okay its just- hows-hows Charlie?” He asked.
You frowned “Charlie is fine, through it wouldn’t hurt if you came by and saw your daughter Luci”
You hadn’t forgave him for setting Charlie up to chat with Heaven months ago when he should have been the one to settle things between them.
Charlie might have a optimistic view of the world, but she lacked experience. You should have been the one to be at that meeting.
But nevertheless.
”I-I don’t know about that…” he trailed off. But you were quick to fix that avoidant nature of his.
”Come to the hotel. Come see what your daughter is trying to do. No one would take this seriously if the King doesn’t approve himself. If not that, just come see your daughter Luci, she needs more than just me around” you felt bad for guilting him but this had to be done.
Charlie was growing into an excellent leader, you were sure she would make a great queen one day.
”so you’ll be here tomorrow? Great see you then. And don’t forget…I can see you so don’t make me drag your ass here tata”
———————————————————————————————
Charlie had gathered everyone to the lobby to come up with ways to recruit sinners to the hotel.
 Charlie was nothing if a perfectionist and always took on more than she could chew.
”Hey babe maybe its time to use some of that royal privilege” Vaggie suggested, she gave a quick look in your direction, making Charlie shake her head feverishly
”no no no my auntie has already done so much! I can’t ask her to do anything else”
You smiled, but chimed in to support Vaggie “She’s right Charlie.” Your niece gawked at you.
You approached her, slipping a arm around her shoulder in comfort “Now I know it’s been rough and weird between you and your father buuuuuuut I took the liberty in inviting him here” she groaned “what? Noooooooo” you shushed her whining
“Now now you’ll get to show him that what you’ve been doing is good for the kingdom. That your heart’s in the right place. He’ll help I promise”
Charlie rested her head on your shoulder, groaning in defeat
”w-when will he be here?”
”Oh in a hour”
”WHAT?!”
———————————————————————————————-
“OH Charlie its so good to see you!” Lucifer exclaimed pulling his daughter into a tight hug.
You smiled, giggling as Charlie choked out a response to her father. You pulled him away from her, giving him a hug
”Nice to see you too Luci” the King blushed and looked around.
”sooooo this is what you two have been up to? It sure got some….character ” he said nervously.
“Well we had some help” you gestured to Alastor. Lucifer eyes narrowed slightly “uuuhhh hhhuuuhh suuurre and who might you be?” Alastor eye twitched before quickly shaking his hand “Alastor! Pleasure to meet you sir… I must say you are…much unimpressive than what I imagined” he mused, causing the man to deadpan.
You cleared your throat “Alastor here has been a tremendous help with the hotel. I don’t know what we would have done without him” you praised.
Lucifer growled as Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you into his side.
Alastor sneered at the monarch “Aaah yes what creative ladies I have here. I am HAPPY to fulfill any wish they desire” he grinned down at you, giving you a slight squeeze.
”hmmmm sister dear why don’t you show me around” he whacked Alastor’s hand with his cane and pulled your arm away from him with a tight smile.
Charlie and Alastor followed the two of you as you gave a quick briefing of the hotel, letting Charlie take over and show her dad around.
You sighed happily, it was nice to see Charlie interact with her dad. You hoped that he would see the big picture and offer her some guidance and support.
You leaned your head against Alastor’s shoulder, turning to return to the lobby
”Let’s leave those two to catch up shall we?”
He huffed but followed you anyway.
———————————————————————————-
“Well it is a very good plan b-but I don’t know Charlie” Lucifer sighed. Charlie’s face dropped. “Daaad this is the only way to prove to Heaven that sinners deserve a second chance”
Lucifer looked away from his daughter “Charlie you don’t understand-” she huffed,frustrated “what don’t I understand?  That my own father don’t believe in me? If Auntie can why can’t you?” She was holding back tears.
You were on the fence at first too, but you were willing to help her out. You supported her crazy ideas and even encouraged that she gave it her all. 
Yes it might have been far fetched,  but you believed that Charlie could do what Lucifer could not.
”Heaven wont listen to you Charlie! They didn’t listen to me. What makes you think you can change their minds?” 
You knew it was a tough question.
Charlie didn’t know the hardship of how Heaven operated.
How much Lucifer had spent centuries trying to convince them that humanity was capable of doing amazing things.
Hell, if sinners had mortal souls why couldn’t they change after death?
But you knew. Heaven was convinced that the rules were black and white. Hell was made to punish the most severe sinners.
of course this is flawed for several reasons
Hell was a punishment to all who fell.
Lucifer knew this.
But why couldn’t things change?
Charlie turned to you, a look of frustration and sadness on her face. You intervened. “Luci just one meeting. One meeting with Heaven so Charlie can at least try. I know you can’t see that things could change, but think about the possibility. Why should a sinner be damned if there’s a second chance? Heaven shouldn’t be able to decide what a person’s soul is capable of”
Lucifer sighed.
You always had a way of making him see possibilities in things.
If you believed in Charlie, then that must have meant…
”what are the odds in this succeeding” he asked you
You blinked. 
You knew what he was asking.
Your sight of everything was always nearly right.
”Theres a few bumps to sort out, but it’ll be fine” you said.
he grimaced.
”Ill even go to Heaven with her” you offered.
Charlie was going to need all the backup she needed up there.
Angels could be a piece of work.
Lucifer sighed, before turning to his daughter “Fine. One meeting-” Charlie launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his small frame and she jumped around
”thank you thank you thank you!”
He smiled, returning her hug.
Charlie ran off to find Vaggie and tell her while you watched Lucifer.
”It wont stop anything” he said as you ushered him into the office.
You hummed, pouring a cup of tea as you looked out the window into the city on the horizon.
”You don’t know that” you whispered.
Silence filled the air between the two of you.
”H-have you…you know” he started to say nervously
You turned to him, seeing him fiddle with his wedding ring.
Your stomach curled.
”what” you growled out unintentionally 
he swallowed “Have you seen Lilith?”
You stilled. Your wrist burned in warning
promise me
”I can’t tell you that” you said curtly.
Lucifer glared at you “you’ve been saying that for years!”
”and you always get the same response” you said back
He stood up and angrily approached you.
”Have you no shame? I know you. You can’t lie to me!” He was starting to raise his voice
”Luci calm dow-” 
“NO! You can see everything! Everything and everyone! so tell me sister have you seen my wife…have you seen Lilith?!”
he was grabbing your arms, shaking.
You hated the look of despair on his face, hoping that you would at least tell him something.
But your wrist burned at his question, and your anger of being put in such a predicament got the better of you.
You hissed at him “No.” you held his glare, before he sighed letting you go. He ran a hand through his hair, backing away from you “Im sorry i-i didn’t mean that”
You clicked your tongue at him sighing
”Oh Luci…” you cupped his cheek, you couldn’t tell him where she was, no Lilith made sure of that,but you could show what you’ve seen.
Lucifer’s eyes widened as flashes of his wife appeared in his mind. He didn’t know where she was,but she seemed…happy.
”I know you worry about Charlie but I will never let anything happen to her. Heaven can act all high and mighty, but surely someone up there will see reason” you said to him, breaking him out of his trance.
He shook his head slightly, giving you a soft smile, nodding.
“Sooooo you and that bellhop…” he wiggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. You tensed, looking away embarrassed. He laughed “Oh? Shy? Not you” you glared at him, folding your arms across your chest in defense “w-what? Theres nothing wrong with me trying to pursue someone” you grumbled. Lucifer smiled. It was cute at how flush you were. 
You were always the serious one.
Never really doing things for yourself.
You always held duty and responsibility above all things.
So seeing you blush over some tacky, old times fuck  guy was refreshing.
So he teased “Oooh no the Queen can do anything or anyone she likes”
You growled at him, making him laugh harder as he gave you a hug and bid you goodbye as he teleported, leaving you with your thoughts.
“Well that was interesting” you whipped around to see Alastor walking from the shadows.
You laughed nervously, “Alastor! I didn’t hear you come in…how muuuch of that did you hear?”
He smiled down at you, tilting his head “ooooh nothing I wont repeat my dear” he tapped your nose.
He rested a hand on your lower back to escort you to your room like a proper gentleman.
He kissed you goodnight before venturing off to his radio tower. He had to organize some of his thoughts.
Alastor knew you were powerful he admits only that! but he hadn’t expected you to be the Queen of Hell itself.
Yes you were the Princess’s aunt but he just chalked it up to you just having power by blood alone.
The Queen of Hell….hmph. 
Pride swelled in his chest at the thought as well as a wicked smile graced his lips His darling was one of the most powerful in all of Hell that gave him a power trip and a lingering thought
How the fuck were you the Queen? 
Just how powerful were you?
And one last thought before he turned on his broadcast
How could he use that power you wielded?
@dasimp777 @projectdreamwalker @fairyv-ice @stygianoir @k1y0yo @thewinchestah @imgonnadielaughing-blog @purplecatsandhearts @blinderthanabats-blog @saphiresai @th3-st4r-gur1 @evedenn @queenariesofnarnia @yoitsnetto @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @alastorsdear @peachedtv
@tpks @siiv3r @markster666 @okay-babe @strawberrypimp666 @coleisyn @simphornies @lunaramune @alastorsdarling @prosciuttosblog @ioniiaa @fizzled-phoenix @horrorartsworld @polytheatrix @dennsfz @yourdoorisunlocked @stawberrypimpsimp @alishii @alleystore @preciousbabypeter @yunimimii @peachedtvs @karolinda007-blog @chewbrry @aviradasa
comment below so i can see if I’m missing anyone who wants to be tagged…ALSO each chapter is linked to the last and next…
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rodolfoparras · 3 months
Note
ah your professor price drabble done killed me i'm so insane about him.
i love professor student dynamics but they almost always have sub/bottom reader if you can even find male reader which is just... yeah. BUT YOUR WRITING OH MY GODS. it's edible i'm literally gnawing on professor price who finally found a student to challenge him and immediately wants to fuck. so valid. i too am attracted to people who are willing to have academic banter with me, price, you're so real.
also imagine fucking him over his desk after hours and joking about it being for extra credit he would be so annoyed dnajndakd
-🪔
Genuinely nothing brings me more joy than taking stereotypical tropes and roles and swapping them around because why not I want body guard/ royalty trope where price is the royalty and falls for the body guard I want professor price who’s head over heels for a student I want secretary loser price falling for ceo reader
Pt 1 of professor!Price x student!reader
Cw: age gap, reader is in his 20s!!!, professor student relationship, power dynamics, price is a bit of a creep, 18+
Okay but hear me out… jealous professor!Price
Price doesn’t like you. He couldn’t- shouldn’t. He’s a professor and you’re his student. If anything, these little fantasies were just that, fantasies, a way of getting through a boring work day.
Was it wrong? Sure. But it’s not like he plans on acting on them so might as well indulge in them.
Fuck he sounds like a perverted old man but he can’t find it in himself to care as he unbuttons his pants, takes his weeping cock in his hand, while thinking of your interactions from the day, can’t help but wear a plug to work, stretching the tight ring of muscles, preparing himself as if you’d fuck him after the lecture, can’t help but live off of these fantasies til he gets home for the day, and fucks himself with one of his dildos while imaging it’s your cock instead.
Fantasies.
That’s what it is.
Nothing more nothing less.
However he finds himself less sure about his feelings when he’s one day standing at the front of the lecture hall, arms crossed and brow raised, staring at the random student sitting a bit too close to you.
“Professor Price I have a question…”
The sound of another student’s voice snaps him out of his trance, heat creeping up his face and and vehemently avoiding your questioning gaze while proceeding to answer the student’s question.
Later on when the lecture ends he notices you and the same student from earlier walking out together. Price proceeds to packs up his stuff, all while continuously thinking about who that student was.
He hasn’t seen this kid hanging out with you before. The fact that the two of you were friends seemed so bizarre since- No. He shouldn’t dwell on it. He had no business questioning who you were and weren’t friends with. Besides he couldn’t be jealous now right? He didn’t like you that way. He didn’t like you at all.
That random student’s name turned out to be Tim and in a short amount of time you’d become very close friends with him to the point where you and him would be whispering about in class. Price would purposely interrupt your discussion with a question thinking you wouldn’t be able to answer him but you’d always be prepared, sounding and looking as confident as ever while answering his question and - fuck he couldn’t help the blood rushing to his dick as you confidently answered him. You were so clever, so confident and he couldn’t help but like that about you.
Like.
There it was, the word again and he swallows it down like his pride as he continues on with his lecture, allowing you and Tim to return to your discussion.
But he mulls over the word again when he sits all alone in the lecture hall eating his lunch because you and Tim were “going to grab something together”.
As much as Price hated to admit it, he did miss your presence at lunch. Sure you’d chatter his ear off and leave traces of your lunch all over the desk but Price enjoyed the company.
He enjoyed the fact that someone took interest in his lecture- in him after so many years.
He enjoyed having discussions with you even though you’d question everything he said.
And he enjoyed your company at lunch no matter what else he may say.
Weeks passed without the two of you interacting much.
It was better off this way, Price thinks to himself.
Fantasies, that all it was anyway, repeats it so much to himself so that the next time he sees you sitting in one of the extra chairs, legs propped on his desk and eating away at some poor excuse of lunch you made, he thinks that’s a fantasy as well.
He doesn’t ask about Tim and you don’t say anything so Price proceeds to work through the stack of assignments that had been piling up on his desk while silently allowing himself to enjoy this moment.
But soon enough reality hits him in the face or maybe it was when you randomly mentioned Tim that the damn burst inside of him and the words came flowing out of him.
“You should ask the lad out”
“Huh?” You say, seemingly confused by his choice of words since you’d been complaining about morning lectures just seconds before this.
“Tommy?” He tries again, pushing away from his desk, arms now folded over his chest.
You look at him in confusion before it clicks “Tim”
He nods his head, feeling slight annoyance at hearing the name but tries to not let it show on his face. “You should ask him out”.
“Why do you say that?”
“You seem to like him” Price shrugs, seemingly much less confident as he busies himself with cleaning off the stray crumbs you left on his desk.
“Yeah?” Price doesn’t even notice the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“Come on kid I’m old but I’m that not old. It’s obvious that you like him.” He says before dumping the pile of crumbs into the trash can.
“Never said you were,” you say completely ignore the latter statement as you smile at him.
For a second Price freezes in place, heat creeping up his face before he clears his throat and looks away. “Either way you should ask him out,”
“I don’t like him” you say with a shrug, still smiling at the older man.
Price scoffs at that.
“You do an awful job at lying, flirting too,”
“Why do you say so?” You say with a small smile on your face neither denying or confirming his suspicions which leaves him feeling tensed
“Well to start off, you’re spending your free time with some old man when you could be with Tom-Tim right now,”
“What if I want to do that though?”
He only scoffs in response, “you don’t want that,”
“I do, though,” you say, sounding firm as ever and for one second it sounds like you’re talking about something else, something he’s been trying to deny for the past months and the implication leaves him speechless and frozen in place, trying to process what you’d just said.
“Professor Price?”
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val-made-a-mistake · 4 months
Note
Currently imagining a scenario where you and Eddie have some sort of split custody arrangement for Venom, and you have some sort of NSFW dream about Eddie, and Venom sees the whole thing because of brain link or whatever, and then shares this exciting development with Eddie the next time he's bonded to Venom
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venom is definitely not one to keep a secret, for sure 😭 thank you so much for your request, i hope you enjoy. :) smut-wise, it's a bit more focused on eddie than my previous fics where it was either symbiote-focused or an even split, hope that's okay. this was SO much fun to write!
warnings: brief smut, mentions of oral f receiving, mentions of "striking" the reader but it's totally a misunderstanding, loneliness, mentions of eating people/murder
word count: 3.3k
//////
It had been six days since Eddie had left for Seattle, and honestly, you hadn’t been expecting to fall into this loneliness so quickly. Venom might have been keeping you company by providing you with an endless stream of commentary in your inner conscience, and the chickens were constantly squawking and squabbling and wandering the length of the apartment as per usual, so it wasn’t like the space was totally silent, but still, Eddie’s absence was more saddening than you thought it would be. Over the course of the six days, you struggled to busy yourself. Of course you preferred Eddie having a job as to being without one, but one thing you particularly hated was how vague investigative jobs were, so as a result, you had no idea when he would come back or how long the work would take to be done.
For the time being, it looked like you were stuck here.
Before he’d left, Eddie had asked you to babysit Venom and his apartment, and now that you’d been here for an extended amount of time, you felt horribly restless.
Feeling the weight of the quiet apartment settling in, you cast a glance around the room. The hum of the refrigerator seemed to amplify in the sort-of silence, and you found yourself drawn to staring at Eddie's belongings scattered around.
Your gaze fell on a framed photograph on the shelf – Eddie with a carefree grin, arm slung around your shoulders. The memories flooded back, and a bittersweet smile touched your lips.
As if sensing your thoughts, Venom's voice rumbled in your mind.
EDDIE IS DEFINITELY MISSING OUT WITHOUT US AROUND.
The symbiote's attempt at comfort was appreciated, but it only deepened your sense of solitude.
Sighing you folded yourself into a ball on the couch, tucking your chin into your knees. The TV in front of you was off, and you had no intention to turn it on. For now, it was okay to mull in the quiet.
You mumbled into your knees, “What do you think he's up to in Seattle?" 
CATCHING BAD GUYS. KICKING BUTT. EATING SEATTLE FOOD. ZOOMING AROUND. ACTING PATHETIC WITHOUT US THERE.
“V, you and I don’t know anything about investigative journalism,” you put in gently.
Venom was, of course, offended.
I KNOW A LOT ABOUT EATING BAD GUYS!
“Yeah, but Eddie won’t let you eat bad guys in Seattle any more than he does here.”
It was at that moment that Venom popped out from your shoulder blade, miniature head scowling.
HE SHOULD!
“Wanna go get a bite to eat?” you interjected, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ll even let you drive, if you want.”
Venom grinned much too wide for his intentions to be anything but nefarious, so you quickly added, “No eating people.”
You turned fast and pointed to the pizza box sign in the kitchen. “Eddie might not be here, but that rule’s definitely still active while you’re in my body, okay?”
Venom, for lack of a better word with his gaping mouth full of super-sized fangs, pouted.
YOU ARE NO FUN!
I just don’t want to be involved in any murder, you wanted to say, but slimy, black, glittering goo was already wrapping and contorting around your middle. Venom was enveloping you, taking over.
It was a bit of an unpleasant sensation as Venom’s monstrous gooey head locked into place over where yours used to be, and rows of impressive fangs unfolded in your suddenly super-sized mouth. It felt like somebody had cracked an egg over your head and the yolk was dripping down your body. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it. You had no idea how Eddie put up with it.
For how quickly his annoyance started, Venom seemed to get over it pretty quickly. He grinned and licked his lips.
I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO MCDONALDS.
//////
The room was shrouded in the quiet stillness of the night. The dim glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light on the walls, creating a cozy haven within the four corners of Eddie’s bedroom. You were in bed. Venom, for the first time that day, was quiet.
Under the soft blanket, your eyelids were growing heavy with the weight of the day's endeavours. You still missed Eddie, a lot, so much that your nightly FaceTime call almost wasn’t enough. Seeing his face on your laptop screen was just a further reminder of how far two states away felt, and how binded you felt to him since you met him — he pulled at you without even realizing it, like you’d been sewn together with invisible thread.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be in Seattle for too much longer.
The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to synchronize with the slowing pace of your breath. As the minutes ticked away, you found yourself on the threshold of the dream world, caught between wakefulness and the gentle pull of slumber. Not even the distant murmur of passing cars was enough to distract you now.
Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the sensation of falling asleep, gently gliding down into the abyss of dreams. Eddie’s bedroom, once familiar and defined, now blurred at the edges, transforming into a surreal landscape of colours and shapes.
As you drifted further into the realms of slumber, a sensation of weightlessness enveloped you. It was as if you were floating on a sea of tranquility, carried away by the ebb and flow of your own breath. The boundaries between reality and imagination began to dissolve, and the world outside melted.
//////
Sometime between now and then, you’d ended up bent over in Eddie’s lap, on a couch that felt just like his couch, but was ambiguous enough that it could’ve been anywhere. Things were slightly blurry around the edges, surreal enough to have you breathless, but real enough that you weren’t questioning your surroundings.
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed as he tilted his head, carefully examining the swelling ass on his lap. Your pussy was dripping, there was a dribble of arousal forming, but in all honesty, he was a little scared to touch you, he didn’t want to hurt you. “I don’t think I’m getting a finger in there, girl. Wow.”
“Luckily, I’m not that fragile,” you responded playfully as you arched your back for him. Eddie bit his lip as this only accentuated the curve of your ass.
“God,” he whispered as he ran a hand up your thigh: he was able to break them apart easily, and he pulled one leg over his lap, wedging you firmly between his legs.
Even though you were already soaking wet, Eddie’s fingers ran over your dripping slit for a moment, as if he were admiring the way your pussy fluttered at his touch in front of him.
God, you could just feel how wet you were, and you bit your lip, anticipating for Eddie to lean forward, and—
Y/N!!!
In an instant you’d jumped awake: you’d sprang to attention without really realizing how you’d done it, scrambling for the lamp. “What’s going on?”
Venom was protruding from your shoulderblade again, bouncing even more than normal, very clearly in extreme distress.
SWEET GIRL. WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS.
You stifled your yawn with your hand. “V, do you mean, like - like a dream?”
WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS! RECEIVING VISIONS OF EDDIE EATING YOU! THIS IS VERY SERIOUS! WE NEED TO KEEP YOU SAFE!
Your cheeks instantly warmed, and you froze, scrambling for something to say. “Oh - oh, shit, Venom - that - I’m so sorry, but I really don’t think that was what you think it was.”
HE WAS STRIKING YOU! Venom snapped.
Oh my god. He really saw all of that.
You reached for the water bottle on your nightstand. “V, you seriously don’t need to worry about this. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. Nothing bad will come from it."
Venom was, of course, still hysterical.
IT WAS A PROPHECY! THIS IS BAD!
I wouldn’t mind if it was a prophecy, you thought selfishly before you could stop yourself, but you shoved it down. “Everything’s alright, Venom. Okay? Everything's fine. Let’s just go back to bed.”
I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR CARING ABOUT YOU, Y/N.
You were already sliding back under the blanket. “I’m not asking you to, V. I appreciate it.”
You hesitated.
“Just, uh, next time you’re bonded to Eddie, please don’t tell him about this, okay? It could make him - I don't know, uncomfortable. You know, I - I don’t know how he’d react to the prophecy of him supposedly hurting me, that’s all. I don’t want to worry him.”
(You were hoping wildly that he would accept, and you and Venom would never talk about this again.)
In a move you’d never seen before, Venom raised one gloopy, black tentacle towards you, and recognizing the movement, you extended your pinky towards him. Your pinky and the black goo linked together for a moment, signifying your trust.
Venom grinned, now bouncing significantly less.
I NEVER BREAK A PINKY PROMISE, SWEET GIRL.
You raised your eyebrow.
I TRY NOT TO.
You were much too tired for any of this, you simply turned over to switch off the lamp and finally return to whatever remnants of that dream was left. “Okay then. Goodnight, V.”
//////
It was satisfying to have everything fall back into the natural order once Eddie returned home from Seattle. You returned to your own apartment on the opposite side of town, but of course visited frequently, and Eddie was grateful to be back in a low-stakes environment once more, with a snarky symbiote that would terrify anyone who would try to harm him. Seattle had been thrilling, and he'd recounted the adventure to you several times, but now he was back to something familiar.
The job was done. He was covered for the time being. Freelancing was difficult, but for now, everything would be okay.
In the intervening time, Venom talked about you, a lot. Ever since he met you, he’d taken to mentioning you. But ever since you’d agreed to split custody of the symbiote, and especially since Eddie had disappeared for Seattle, he was talking about you even more.
I AM WORRIED ABOUT Y/N, he said one day.
Eddie was idly clicking through TV channels, watching everything from the news to a police drama to a basketball game zoom past, finding none of them interesting. “Why?”
I DO NOT WANT ANY BAD OMENS TO BE FOLLOWING HER. WE NEED TO KEEP HER SAFE.
“What makes you say that?” he asked, a bit confused.
Venom suddenly popped out of his shoulder, howling.
SHE - SHE HAS -
Before Venom could get any actual words out, Eddie was lifted from the couch as the symbiote rose and slammed his head into the ceiling, denting it severely and sending bits of drywall raining down from the heavens like it was a form of self-punishment.
As quickly as it started, Eddie had been dropped on the couch, red in the face and gasping for air.
Venom hardly noticed: he seemed to be in extreme distress.
I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL!
Eddie put a hand to his throat, still sweaty and gasping, forcing an inhale. “V - what?”
Venom was beside himself, now.
Y/N IS RECEIVING VISIONS! VISIONS OF YOU!
"Visions? What do you mean, visions of me?" Eddie asked, his concern deepening. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling half-strangled anymore. His mind was racing, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and worry. "What kind of visions? Is she in danger?" 
He couldn't fathom what could be causing you to have distressing dreams about him.
Right after Seattle? Right after he thought the work was finished?
I DO NOT KNOW. BUT WE MUST PROTECT HER.
Without waiting for further response, Venom oozed off Eddie's shoulder and began slithering around the room, agitated.
Eddie remained on the couch, trying to process this information. "If something's going on, then we need to talk to her, right? Figure out what's happening."
I AGREE. SHE IS PART OF US, AND WE WILL NOT LET ANY HARM BEFALL HER.
He paused, awkwardly.
BUT PLEASE LET HER KNOW I AM SORRY. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU, EDDIE. SHE SAYS SHE DOES NOT WANT TO WORRY YOU. SHE DOES NOT SHARE THE SAME CONCERN I HAVE.
It didn’t matter: Eddie was already grabbing his phone and dialling your number, fingers tapping nervously against his screen.
After a few tense rings, you picked up.
“Hey, Eddie!”
"Hey, we need to talk," Eddie said urgently, glancing at Venom, who was now wrapping himself around the coffee table, sticky and pulsating, in deep despair.
Concern filled your voice. "Is everything okay?"
“Oh, I mean, yeah, right now it is,” he responded wildly, vaguely aiming for nonchalant. “I was just talking to V, you know, and he said something, and - I just kinda wanted to call, y’know, see if you were alright-”
“Oh, I'm fine,” you confirmed, but you still sounded confused. “I don’t have anything going on today, so I’m just spending some time to myself. What did V tell you?”
Across from Eddie, Venom moaned in despair, a mere gooey black glob of depression on his sitting room floor.
SWEET GIRL, I AM SORRY!
“He said you were getting some disturbing visions, and not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out a bit,” Eddie said sheepishly, hoping you hadn’t heard that. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay, that’s all. I know this is random. Sorry. Just, with the nature of the last case, y’know, up in Seattle-”
It didn’t take long before he realized he was rambling again about the Seattle case, so he stopped. “Sorry.”
"No, it's okay."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a sigh.
Of course this was happening.
“Eddie, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you said. “Just, look - do you mind coming over? I’ll explain everything to you once you’re here. This might be better in person.”
Eddie was on his feet in an instant. “Sure, yeah.”
//////
Eddie rushed through the city streets, a mixture of worry and curiosity gnawing at him. Venom was bonded to him again, because he’d rather not think about the consequences of a depressed Venom lingering around the apartment while he was out, and the symbiote seemed to writhe within him with impatience. Or maybe that was just the motorbike rumbling underneath him. Whichever it was, he felt nauseous.
The symbiote had a tendency to jump to conclusions, but Eddie definitely couldn't shake the unease that settled in his gut.
Upon arriving at your apartment, Eddie knocked hastily.
To his surprise, you opened the door with a small smile.
"Hey," you greeted, ushering him inside. "Thanks for coming over."
Eddie nodded, glancing around your living room as if expecting something unusual. Venom, still on edge, clung within him like a sentient black backpack.
He didn’t want to come off as too eager, or too worried, so he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and hoped he looked casual despite the storm of questions brewing inside of him.
“So - what’s the deal?”
Deep inside of him, Venom was quivering with fright. As his gooey molecular form had to be closely intertwined with several of his most important organs right now, it was very hard not to notice the sensation.
You winced. “He’s just freaking out about nothing. There’s no bad omens or visions. I just had a dream, and you were in it. Simple stuff. Nothing to worry about.”
“It wasn’t a bad dream?” Eddie said, cautious.
You were definitely closer, now. “Actually, I’d say it was a pretty damn good dream.”
Eddie’s breath was caught in his throat. Out of everything that could’ve happened tonight, he definitely hadn’t been expecting…this.
He was a little confused, honestly. What was going on? The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, but he didn't feel as though he was in danger. On the contrary, he felt quite warm.
“Let me show you?” you offered.
"Okay," he bit out before he was conscious of making the decision, and you were stepping in front of him, and realizing, he closed his eyes on instinct--
The kiss that followed was absolutely dizzying.
There was something so particularly desperate about this: you were kissing, gasping against his mouth and pulling at his jacket, which made the two of you blindly scramble backwards into the apartment, messy and needy. The kiss quickly turned into a battle of control, with Eddie being the one to guide you forward, his hands on your hips. You bit his bottom lip in response, forcing him to open up and then the kiss was all about tongues, wet and sensitive.
You were on the couch when you finally broke apart, gasping.
"Baby," Eddie wheezed, his eyes darting across your face in disbelief, "I - what was that?"
"Is V with you?" you asked, instead of answering the question.
He was apprehensive now. "Yeah?"
"He needs to know I'm not in danger," you whispered, and you leaned forward to kiss him again.
It was much too chaste, and after you pulled away, Eddie was in mute astonishment for a moment.
His voice was scratchy when he spoke. "Disturbing visions, huh?"
You just smiled. "In my dream, we were on a couch, like this."
Eddie still couldn't believe this was happening. The anxiety in his gut on the way over had been completely forgotten now, blurring out of his memory, the future was an impossible thing, there was just this. This was all he had; this was all he wanted. "Were we, now?"
He didn't know what to do, but that didn't seem to matter, you were leading.
You nodded. "It was kinda hot."
"Kinda?" Eddie repeated dumbly, breathless. His voice sounded like a stranger's.
Before he could embarrass himself, Venom's voice rumbled within him, frustrated.
EDDIE, STOP BEING A PUSSY!
Wondering vaguely if this had been a trap all along, Eddie grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Your mouths roved together, and he took the opportunity to pull you over, closer to him. The curve of your bare spine was warm from under your sweater. He kept his hand there, roaming carelessly, drifting up to the clasp of your bra.
You seemed to get what he was going for, and then suddenly you were straddling him, and with you on top of him, he could no longer ignore how interested his dick was in the proceedings.
Slightly, just slightly, you rolled your hips against his clothed crotch, and Eddie choked out a moan.
Oh, fuck. He could feel the sweat materializing and running down his back. This was better than good.
(Venom was definitely going to tease him about this later.)
"What happened next?" Eddie mumbled, looking up at you, his eyes blown black.
You smiled, then crossed your arms and peeled off your sweater. Eddie shifted his grip, holding you by the hips again, and you tossed your sweater elsewhere.
Venom was going absolutely insane from inside him: it felt like he was rumbling somewhere around his large intestine.
DO NOT MESS THIS UP, EDDIE!
Meanwhile, you were, of course, oblivious to the commentary in Eddie's mind.
"I mean," you said, and your voice wasn't smoky like it had been before. It was just curious, with a note of teasing, like this was an everyday conversation. "You ate me out."
He pressed a light kiss to your throat. "Then flip over, baby."
Inside his head, Venom seemed to be having some kind of meltdown. Maybe he had just realized what the dream was. Maybe he was jealous. Either way, he was rambling in Eddie's mind.
SWEET GIRL - SO FRAGILE - SO SWEET - SO DELICIOUS - I NEED TO TASTE -
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blue-slxt · 8 months
Note
Imagine petite!human reader literally being used as a living fleshlight😩
Like she’s so small she can just be lifted off the ground and pounded🥴
Honestly don’t even care who it’s written for feels like a Jake, lo’ak, or quaritch kinda senecio
Sincerely, a no where near petite girlie
Thank you so much for your patience. I've been working on like a million different things at the same time so I am so behind on requests. But I looove this idea. Something about just being manhandled however your partner wants you to be is so fucking aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh😩! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.
🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞
Smut under the cut.
“Make sure you don’t break my bed with your big ass.” You playfully scold Lo’ak while pulling on your spaghetti strap shirt. He flops his entire body weight onto your bed making it creak. It was times like this when you really took note of just how big of a size difference there was between you. Of course, the Na’vi were much bigger than average humans already, but you were even on the small side for humans. Watching how his body can’t fit properly on your bed while you could be swallowed whole by your sheets and blankets never ceased to amaze you. He waves you off with a ‘yeah, yeah’ while he makes himself comfortable putting his hands under his head. You roll your eyes at him and start to search through all the DVDs you have for something for you two to watch.
“What are you in the mood for this time? Something funny? Romantic? Dramatic?” you fire off the different genres as you toss aside disc after disc.
“Hmm…” he dramatically hums thinking about his answer.
You don’t bother to look at him while he mulls it over and you continue searching. You faintly comprehend the sound of him shuffling and moving around behind you, but you pay it no mind until a pair of big hands find their way on your small frame. Lo’ak’s lips brush lightly over the back of your neck and it almost tickles when he speaks.
“I think I’m in the mood for something sexy” he presses kisses onto your neck and shoulder.
“You are so corny” you say with a laugh, but you still lean into his touch anyway.
“Just put on whatever. I’d rather watch you anyway.” His low voice in your ear makes your nerves come alive with this intense fluttering all over your body. His impatience is rubbing off on you so you hurriedly throw whatever you can reach into the player without really bothering to look at what it is. Once the movie starts playing, you turn around to face Lo’ak and he immediately swipes you up off the floor and your legs lock around his waist while he presses his lips to yours. Holding onto him like this gives you the perfect feel of his cock straining against his tewng and poking you right between your legs. Clearly, he can feel it too from how his hands hold your hips and grind you down against him. Every move brushes against your covered clit and gives you small tingles of satisfaction, but it’s not enough. He’s got you so riled up now that you decide to have a little more fun and push his limits. On any given day, Lo’ak could, and would, fuck you until your body felt like jelly. But on occasion, he would lose himself and by the end, even your brain would feel numb and fuzzy filled with nothing but him possessing you completely. That’s exactly what you need right now.
Without warning, you unfold your legs from around him and let go completely dropping to your feet on the ground. His puzzled expression is nothing short of adorable.
“Shit, I just remembered that I have a report to finish” you say walking over to your computer desk and sitting down.
“Babe, you have got to be kidding me right now.” You were never one to deny Lo’ak what he asked for. Ever. Not even when you would join the clan for communal dinner and he would pull you off into the dark out of view of everyone else.
“It’s only going to take a few minutes, Lo.” You say sitting down and pulling your hair forward and exposing your neck. Lo’ak groans behind you. You know how much he loves when you present your neck for him to mark. He’s starting to catch on to your little game. If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it.
“If it’s only going to take a couple minutes, then do it after” he says pulling your chair away from your desk and over to the bed. He spins you around to face him and heat settles between your thighs at the way he’s eyeing you right now. “I need you, mamas.”
“You’re doing a whole lot of talking and yet, I’m still fully clothed” you say with a sly smirk.
He chuckles lowly to himself, “oh, you are asking for it.” In one swift motion, Lo’ak pulls you onto his lap by your waist. Your hands brace against his chest to keep yourself from flying forward. His face settles in the crook of your neck and he nips lightly at your skin making you jump.
“Now, am I going to have to rip these cute little shorts off of you or are you gonna behave and take them off yourself?”
“Don’t…I like these ones.” You whine.
“Then get rid of them. Right now.”
You shift yourself around so that you can maneuver out of your shorts while he pulls his tewng to the side to expose his thick, hard cock that was already leaking precum from the tip.
“Already so hard, love. Is that for m—”
“Don’t try to get cute with me” Lo’ak cuts you off by grabbing you by your waist and slamming you down onto his dick in one quick snap.
It feels like an electric shock is shot up your spine and goes straight to your head being immediately filled to the brim. He gives you no time to adjust before he’s fully lifting your body by your waist up and down on his cock.
“Ah! Fu-ck! Lo-ak!” Your words and breaths are broken from how he’s making you bounce on top of him.  
“Shit, your pussy is so fuckin perfect” he says through gritted teeth.
His big hands on your smaller frame completely take control of your movements and you have no choice but to let him have his way with you. His dick continues to bully its way into your tight cunt and kiss your cervix making your toes curl.
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum inside of you, mama. You want that, hm? Want me to fill you up?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell from the look in his eyes and his laser focus on you how close he really is and how badly he wants to give you everything.
“Yes, yes, yes, please Lo’ak!” your vision is already starting to spot as you near your own high while he keeps using you as his own personal fuck toy.
“Hng, shit!” he bucks his hips up to match the way he’s moving your body for you a few more times before the heat of his cum starts to fill you from the inside out. It sends you over the edge into your own orgasm and your pussy clamps down on him even tighter if that was even possible. Lo’ak sucks in a sharp breath feeling how tight you are around him and his forehead falls forward onto your chest waiting for you to stop milking him for all he’s worth.
His hands finally let go of your waist and they fall to sit on top of your thighs while you both try to catch your breath.
Suddenly the TV booms from across the room, “I am Bruce Almighty! My will be done!” making both of you snap your head in its direction.
“What the fuck movie did you put on?” Lo’ak laughs breathlessly.
“I have no fucking clue and I kind of don’t really care” you laugh equally out of breath. “But it looks like we still have some time before it’s over…” you lightly suggest.
He already knows what’s on your mind and a devilish smirk crosses his face.
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jojomiwbvb6 · 2 months
Text
The Shower Scene, Pt. 4
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Taglist: @emzandthevoid @mentallynot-here @bloodymug @sprokat @princesspeach-00 @ghoulsquad @missduffsblog @yeehaw-my-guys @lma1986 @artificialbreezy
Author's Note: I apologize for taking so long to do this chapter! I have had a bit of writer's block and I have been busy doing a lot lately. This will be the finale to this series, I really hope you enjoy! Feel free to give me more ideas! I was thinking of writing some Sasuke or Itachi fics as well.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW. Extremely long and descriptive smut, unprotected p-in-v (be safe about it, or use condoms please), overstimulation, degradation, praise, oral (female receiving), punishment, spanking, swearing, squirting, casual alcohol consumption
PSA: this is very obviously a work of fiction, and should in no way be taken seriously or literally. this piece of fiction uses real people in fictional and fantastical mindsets--and it is in no way a representation of the real person or who they are as a whole. Thank you for coming to our ted talk.
--
Atlanta.
The humid wind hits your face, the city never motionless around you. You inhale the air, closing your eyes and letting your body relax. Your nerves are completely jumbled and overstimulated as your mind mulls over the past week so far.
The pictures of yourself flash through your head. Noah's words flooding your mind. You can't escape the anxiety it brought you, and the excitement of your actions.
You stared at your feet, black vans reflected against tan concrete as you stood against the bus. Twiddling your thumbs and exhaling heavily, you turn to Davis as he approaches you.
"Hey, kid! Some of the guys were just thinking of exploring the botanical gardens and the zoo and maybe going for some grub, wanna come?" He smiles at you, raising an eyebrow for an inviting answer.
"Shit, bro, I'm down." You agree and smile back. It was the first day off in over a week and you were grateful for it. You were looking forward to moments with Noah, but you also needed to get out and do something else for once.
As you and Davis caught up with the group, consisting of both you two, Ruffilo, Noah, Matt, and Jolly (the rest went off to do other things), you could hear their jesting and cackles even from a ways back.
"Morning guys!" You say, smiling and out of breath.
"Hey (Y/N)!" You were greeted by multiple of them.
Noah turned, walking backwards. "Hey, (Y/N)," he smirks lazily, waving his hand, drawing his eyes over you subtly and licking his lips.
You huff, catching his eyes and offering a suggestive smile. "Hi, Noah." He smiles back at you, and then turns back around to continue walking. You admire his long, toned frame as he took smooth strides forward.
--
All of you thoroughly enjoyed the relaxing and wondrous vibes of the gardens and the culture of the city. Having been walking and exploring for over 2 hours, you all decide to pause your activities for a bit of lunch.
"What should we eat? I'm starving, man," Ruffilo comments.
"Hmm. Haven't had Chipotle in a while," Davis replies.
"How about sushi?" Matt adds.
You're silent. Honestly, you're so hungry, you don't even care what you guys eat. Anything sounds good.
Noah steps up beside you. "Sushi sounds fuckin' fantastic," he agrees.
When the others aren't paying any attention, Noah leans into your ear quickly and quietly, "I'm hungry for something else, though."
You almost gasp when he leans away, giving a quick caress to your ass while the others are walking away. He casually smirks at you, continuing to walk in the direction of the Japanese sushi bar on the corner.
Your face felt hot, and you were fighting the frustrated blush that crept up your face. You were nearly hyperventilating and you couldn't help it. You took a deep breath of the next gust of Georgia wind that caressed your face, composing yourself and catching back up with the group.
--
"Fuck, this hits the spot dude." Matt comments, and you're nodding along with the rest of the guys.
"Hell yeah."
You're all sitting at the table, a whole boat of sushi in front of you and then some. Ruffilo is sipping on sake while all of you make small chit chat.
"Hey! Ruffilo! Let me try some of that," you say.
"Ever had sake?" Ruffilo says.
"No," you state, taking the small white cup from his hands.
"What!" You hear half of the table exclaim, with pleas of interest in you trying the drink.
You slowly take a sip. Instantly the taste of the Japanese alcohol hits your tongue and you're writhing. "Yuck! Oh! That's revolting!"
Cracks of laughter erupt from the table. Soon, you are laughing as well.
"That's enough of that," you joke.
After lunch, you all go shopping and walk around downtown. After several hours of being out and having free time the whole day, it was time to return to the hotel that was booked for the night. In the morning, you would quickly pack up and shuffle back onto the bus for Orlando, Florida.
--
Walking away from the bus with a suitcase in hand and backpack over your shoulder, you step into the hotel. You stop at the front desk to get your keycard from the receptionist.
"Room for (Y/L/N), please."
"Ahh," she pauses, typing on her keyboard. "We don't have a room here, I'm afraid..."
You frown. "All of these rooms should have been pre-booked," you state. Your mind frantically searches for a solution. You begin to list the several names of the other crew members and band members, but most were already in their rooms. You thought of one more name.
Oh, you thought. He didn't!
"There may be another name," you try. "Sebastian?"
The receptionist, looking mildly annoyed now, huffs and types in the name. You ignore her annoyance, watching patiently. A look of resolve crosses the receptionist's face. You feel hopeful.
He did.
"Hmm," she says. "It appears one more keycard is available for this room. Just sign this document and you may have your keycard."
You fill out the appropriate paperwork, signing on the line. The receptionist pulls the paper back to her and slides the keycard across the counter. You exchange your thanks.
"Room 207, 3rd floor." The woman tells you and turns away.
You don't waste anymore time. As you walk down the hall to the elevator, the smirk on your face grows 10 miles wide, confidence enveloping you.
You knew exactly why he'd done it, and frankly, you weren't about to protest. Your heart slams into your chest with every sound of your heels and the roll of the suitcase wheels on the carpet.
You take a deep breath as you step onto the elevator.
--
207.
The silver numbers glint as you stand parked in front of the door. He was inside there already, waiting for you to come in. You exhale shakily as you grip the door handle, and you hesitate.
Closing your eyes, you begin to smirk. This is what you've been fiending after for several weeks. Taking another deep breath, you slide the keycard into the door.
The lock clicks and you twist the handle, allowing yourself into the room.
You analyze your surroundings. One lamp is on in the dimly lit room. A small walkway leading into a rather spacious double bed. There was a desk to the left, and a mini kitchen straight ahead. The bathroom immediately to the left. Without paying further attention, you walk to a bed and set your bag down on it.
You didn't seem to notice Noah, maybe he'd left the room for something. You shrug, bending over to open up your suitcase and lay it out.
Without you noticing, Noah slips out of the bathroom and leans against the wall, examining the rear view you're giving him.
"Well, well, already bending over? Princess, I haven't even taken off your clothes yet," Noah chuckles darkly.
You swear you jump 10 feet into the air, yelping loudly. If he hadn't scared you, his words would've gone straight to your core. "Noah Sebastian, for crying out loud!" You laugh and smack his shoulder. "Don't do that!" You both share a chuckle.
You can feel Noah decreasing the distance between you two and your laughter begins to fade. Noah's eyes flutter over you, landing on your eyes, your mouth, your breasts, feeling overwhelmed pleasantly.
You found yourself licking your lips. You begin to turn away.
Faster than the flick of a wrist, Noah's hand shoots up, gripping your jaw and squeezing your cheeks together. You are both silent, the tension shooting higher than ever.
You go to grab his hand and you are immediately caught by his other hand. He grips your wrist tightly, but not painfully. Noah's eyes change into dangerous slits and a playfully evil smirk takes over his features.
"The way that you have been torturing me has been driving me insane," Noah whispers into your ear. You want to collapse on the spot.
He begins walking you slowly backwards.
"You've been such a fucking brat, too, getting me hot for you at the worst times..." His hot breath fans your face, your own breath quickening in pace.
"The only thing I can think about is how I'm going to having you praying to me when I'm done ravaging you." You feel your hips hit the desk behind you.
"Noah..." you whisper.
He pulls at your face until you're eye to eye with him. He chuckled darkly.
"That's my fucking name," he growls into your ear. "And you're never going to forget it."
His hands leave your face and your wrist. Gripping your hips, he lifts you onto the desk and shoves you on it. He pulls you against his own hips, and his left hand rises to tangle in your hair.
Noah's cologne invades your senses, addicted to the scent. He tugs at the strands, inflicting a raspy moan from you. "How beautiful," Noah mumbles, helping himself to your inviting lips.
You both kiss as if life were going to end. His fingers flex against your clothed hips, pulling at your shirt and caressing you. Your tongues slipped against each other, nipping and suckling at each other's lips.
You wrapped your legs around Noah's hips, pulling him closer. Noah pulls away from your lips. Smirking, he pulls up your shirt with ease and tossed it away somewhere on the floor behind you.
"Such pretty, pretty tits..." he drawls, giant hands cupping them and he flicks a nipple. You gasp. Noah moves up your body, leaning over to envelope a taut nipple into his warm mouth. He flicks at it with the tip of his tongue and you moan quietly.
He pops off of you and smirks wickedly, and feigns a look of concern. "Is that just too much pleasure for you? Should I stop?"
"N-no! No, please, don't stop," You almost choke.
Noah stands. His bulge is prominent against his sweatpants and you almost drool. It seems so big and you can't focus on anything but the need you feel. Your core is hot and you squirm.
"Such a needy fucking slut." He pulls your body forward, running a hand oh-so-low but not enough.
You mewl as his fingers creep to your covered pussy and slowly tease the bud.
"Mmm.." you groan and Noah chuckles.
"Like that, babygirl?"
You nod.
"Too bad." Noah stops and you whine. "Enough of that. Strip,"
"Yes, sir."
Noah chuckles. "Such good manners for me. So desperate."
By now, you're a puddle of pleasure and you want it to swallow you whole. Noah sits on the edge of the bed as you peel your pants off your shaking legs. You remove your panties, tossing them aside.
"So pretty," he comments. "Come here and lay across my lap."
You obey, positioning yourself across his lap.
"Before we begin, is this something you're okay with me doing to you?"
"Absolutely," you confirm. "I can take it."
Noah hums in understanding. "Such arrogance. You will learn."
His hands begin to touch and caress the flesh of your behind, shaking the cheeks and watching them jiggle with satisfaction. He rubs in slow circles. His hand leaves your ass, forming a cup-shape, and crack.
The first spank stings, and you gasp out. His hand returns to rub the welt.
"Here's how this is going to go. You will get five spanks for our first time. This is your punishment for being such a slut," he rubs slowly. "If you fail to complete the spanking, I'll fuck your mouth. I won't stop if you choke or gag."
You whimper and nod your head.
"I'm glad you understand. If you succeed, princess, I'll have a taste of you for myself."
You mewl, squirming in his lap. "Now, now," he warned you. "Count for me." You nod frantically, wanting so desperately to please him. Although, you wouldn't complain if you failed the test.
The first two spanks were easy. His hand fell on tandem and you dutifully stated each number with each gasp and whimper he pulled from you. You really didn't think you could fail, how could you? Sure, it stung a little, but you could handle it.
As "three" fell from your lips, the usual soothing rub came to ease the sting.
"Everything okay, princess?"
"Yes, sir."
"May I proceed?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl," he whispered, making you squirm. He chuckled darkly. He pulled apart your cheeks, and leaned down. "Mmm, princess... so wet for me. Oh, I bet you're just aching. Let me help you..."
Noah dipped his fingers in between your legs. His fingers slid between the wet folds and you jolt. His other hand keeps you still and you're left victim to his merciless tease. He softly rubs into your wet heat and you're left mewling against his leg, head hanging.
Noah rubs the tip of his middle finger into your clit. "How's that?"
You nod frantically, unable to speak against his onslaught. At your response, he removes his fingers from your heat and resumes the next spank. The fourth spank is rougher and harder than the last.
"F-four!" You cry out, struggling to hold the composure that remained. "P-please, Noah, I--"
"Hush," he demanded. He caressed the welt, the red marks on your ass much to his liking. "One more for me, princess. You can do it."
Without any warning, Noah's fingers slip once again against your heat. Only this time, he doesn't relent. He teases and pinches your clit and you squirm, earning a dark chuckle from him.
Noah slides his fingers up to your entrance and sinks one finger inside of you and you moan.
"Noahhh, this isn't fair!"
"Be quiet, and don't you dare cum, or you lose," he threatens, and you obey with whimper after whimper as he pumps his finger in and out of you.
He adds another finger, and begins assaulting your clit with the other hand. You're an absolute mess against his lap, his fingers scissoring inside you and rutting against your g-spot. Bliss and pleasure overwhelms you, getting close to the brink as Noah's fingers continue to pump into you, faster and harder.
Your whimpers begin to form into cries, pleading for him to let you cum. Your eyes begin to roll back and you're trying to push back onto his fingers to get more from him.
"You like that baby?" He whispers in your ear. "Gonna cum?"
You nod, mouth agape. Noah smirks and removes his fingers entirely. You groan in frustration, and, as sly as he is, catches you off guard with the fifth and final spank.
Your brain almost can't comprehend the pleasure your body feels, the sting sending you into shock and you almost forget your task.
"F-f-five..." you stutter.
His large, long hands caress both cheeks of your ass and a kiss is planted onto the red welt on the swell of it.
"You're such a good, good girl, princess. I'm impressed. Good job," Noah praises you. "Lay down on your back for me."
You slowly get up and crawl onto the hotel bed mattress and lie down on the cushiony pillows.
"Spread your pretty legs, don't be shy."
You let your legs fall apart, spread against the sheets. Noah sucks in a breath and hums in satisfaction. He crawls up the bed to you, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside as you had. Your eyes feast on the tattoos covering his body.
"God, princess, you're so fucking wet," you moan at his words and he dives in. Noah's tongue licks a wet stripe up your core from your entrance to your clit. You cry out, hands immediately finding his hair. Noah hums and you quiver, the vibrations stimulating you.
He licks into your folds with fervor, as if he hadn't eaten all day. His tongue dances and pokes at your entrance, pleasure spiking and you're squirming against his mouth. Noah laps at your clit, boldly taking the bud into his mouth and sucking at it. He then takes it into his mouth, swirling the sensitive area against his tongue, dancing in circles.
"Noah!!" you cry.
You arch your back, eyes rolling back as you grip his hair and pull, and he groans. Noah adjusts his position, shoving your legs up and he dives deeper into your pussy. He shoves his tongue up into it, swirling it and shaking his head like a rabid dog. You're practically crying out, thrusting against his face and leaving it a wet mess.
Offering you his fingers again, he dives against your clit once more, nipping at it and sucking it; this time, he aids his mouth with his fingers. Thrusting two digits in, his long fingers find your g-spot again. He mercilessly pokes at it, unrelenting with his tongue and fingertips. You're moaning and a mess and it's almost too much.
Your eyes see nothing but stars in the back of your head and you're moaning loudly. You cum and rut onto his mouth. "Fuck, fuck," you gasp.
Noah pops off of your pussy. "Tastes... so good..." he gasps. "I want more."
"I want you so bad, Noah," you whine. "I want you to fuck me."
"What a dirty mouth," he comments, stinking a finger in your mouth as he caresses your jaw. You wrap your lips around his finger and lock eyes with him. You suck and lock eyes with him. He smiles, and removes his finger.
Noah removes his pants and slides his boxers down his slim legs. The only thing you can do is lay there, mouth agape at the beautiful artwork before you. You bite your lip, you just can't wait.
He comes back to you, and you gasp in surprise when he forces your legs against your chest. Noah captures his lips in yours and lines his cock up with your entrance. He wastes no time in sinking in slowly. Due to your wetness, he slides in easily and sinks in as far as he's able. You're both gasping and long moans escape from your mouths and the intense heat between each other's legs.
He begins to move slowly, enjoying the teasing ways your walls grip his cock, threatening to take him deep.
"Fuck, baby... your pussy is just so fucking wet..." he mumbles. A low groan erupts from him, eliciting a moan from you.
His pace begins to quicken and he ruts in deeper. He just can't help himself when you give him the go-ahead by moaning louder.
Pretty soon, the room is filled with explicit sounds from the two of you. The sound of skin slapping fills the room and you're moaning. You're both mumbling the dirtiest phrases to each other, getting each other hotter and higher.
"Fuck" is the only word you chant as he thrusts into you like his life depends on it. He's fucking you hard and unforgiving.
"This pussy is mine," Noah growls into your ear, and you moan.
"Noah!!" You cry as his pace picks up, desperate and greedy. Skin slaps skin, near stinging, relentless. You can't help it when you cum, creating such a sinful sight for Noah as your wetness coats your legs and his cock.
He growls. "Fuck, I'm not done with you yet!" He pulls out and turns you over into doggy, pushing your stomach down and pulling your ass into the air.
He enters you again, finding his rhythm. Pulling you back against his hips in every thrust.
"Take me, take me, take me," you cry out.
Noah groans, picking up his pace. He twists his fingers into the strands of your hair, pulling your head back. He pounds into you, and at this angle the pleasure is overstimulating as his cock hits your spot over and over. He pulls you further back, forcing you to rise to your hands, the pace unforgiving and tears fall down your cheeks.
"Noah!" You cry once more.
Juices run down your legs as you cum one more time, but Noah doesn't seem to be done. You're worn out and fucked into bliss, drooling against the pillow. You can't think and your voice is hoarse.
He groans loudly, letting you know he's almost ready. You push back on his cock and he growls. Wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing gently, he begins fucking in quick ruts. "Fuck, princess, (Y/N)!"
He pulls out of you, his cock glistening and pulsing as his cum shoots out in pearls against your stomach. You moan, but Noah isn't done.
His hand goes to your clit and he smirks. You cry out at the fast quick pace he uses on you, his fingers insert inside of you to smash against your g-spot in one final assault.
"Cum, (Y/N), one more for me," he insists. He doesn't stop, and quickens his pace.
"Noah, please!" You beg, too overstimulated and sensitive.
He doesn't listen, yet urges you towards an orgasm that feels like a tsunami coming for you.
It happens before you can stop yourself, your cum coming out in such a powerful wave that you squirt a little, making such a mess.
This absolutely pleases Noah and he smiles. "Perfect." He kisses your cheek. "You are wonderful." He praises.
You both lay there, panting and laughing, praising one another.
"Shower?"
"I think so."
288 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 1 month
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Thanksgiving Liars (Rooster x Reader)
Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32
Warnings: language, fluff
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After you ended the call, you tossed your phone aside and looked at Bradley as he cradled you on his lap. "Do you think they fell for it?" you asked him.
"Gullible," he replied with a nod. "They're all so fucking gullible."
You erupted into laughter as he rolled you onto your back on the couch. "They aren't going to know what hit them. Planning a whole entire wedding in just two months? They will all be shocked."
Bradley kissed you and guided your arms above your head, pinning them gently to the cushion. "We intive them for Thanksgiving dinner, wine and dine them with your incredible cooking, and then... Bam! Welcome to our wedding, suckers."
You couldn't stop laughing as he kissed you and teased you with his nose everywhere. "Our moms will both cry," you giggled. "Your dad will think it's great that we decided to get married in a parking lot, and my dad will ask if we're hurting for money for the exact same reason."
Bradley pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, "It makes me wild that you thought of it in the first place. Right there in the spot where we had our first kiss is absolutely where we should get married."
"I agree."
He ran his fingers along your arm, and you snuggled against him as he said, "You've been working so hard, Baby Girl. I know what getting another promotion means to you, and I'm already proud. But thank you for agreeing to get married this year."
"Hey," you replied softly, taking his chin in your hand. "I want to marry you, Roo. More than anything. And this is going to be perfect."
--------------------------
Bradley was practically cackling as you and he cleaned up the plates after Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone was still mulling over glasses of wine and the promise of dessert when the two of you slipped into the kitchen. 
"They are oblivious," he said, setting some dishes in the sink while you pumped your fist silently in the air.
"They have absolutely no idea!" you hissed. "Your mom thinks you're going to teach her how to surf tomorrow."
"I don't even fucking know how to surf!"
Bradley watched you double over in quiet yet hysterical laughter as you gripped the edge of the counter for support. "That's why it's so funny!"
He had to press his fist against his lips to keep silent as he heard your dad and Nat laughing about something in the dining room. Your wedding dress was hanging in the bedroom closet, and so was his outfit. But everyone else would be arriving to the beach parking lot tomorrow thinking they'd been invited to hang out all afternoon and evening. "This was the best idea you've ever had," Bradley said as you stood again with tears in your eyes, and you wrapped him up in a hug.
"I can't wait! Now let's get these pies out there and get this show on the road."
But you and he both burst out into another round of stifled laughter before you were able to keep it together long enought to get the desserts on the table. 
"Hey, what time should we all meet at the beach tomorrow?" Nat asked as she helped herself to nearly half of the apple pie. 
"Around 3:00," you and Bradley replied at the same time. The plan was that you'd fake a stomach ache and skip the lunch plans with your parents and his so you could get changed into your dress. Bradley would entertain everyone without you before telling them to change at the hotel and meet at the beach which was right across the street. It was flawless. Inspired. All courtesy of your breautiful brain. 
"We'll have dinner on the beach and watch the sunset," you added. "It'll be great."
Bradley watched his mom stand up from the table and immediately give you a hug. "Dinner was perfect, my sweet girl. Thank you for such a beautiful day, I don't know what could beat it! But I'm going to take Goose back to the hotel before he falls asleep."
Sure enough, Bradley's dad looked like he was about to doze off in a turkey induced coma at the table while everyone else around him chatted.
You kissed Carole's cheek and said, "See you tomorrow," with a secret glint in your eye before turning toward Bradley.
When everyone was gone, he left the mess in the kitchen; he would clean it up later. "Can I take you to bed now?" he asked as he followed you down the hallway.
But you stopped in the doorway. "About that... shouldn't you sleep in the other bedroom? It's supposed to be bad luck to see each other."
Bradley laughed, but you did look kind of serious. "Oh, you're not joking." When you shrugged in response, he said, "All I've had is good luck since I met you, Sweetheart. The best luck."
"You almost died when you were deployed," you deadpanned.
"And luckily you were here to nurse me back to perfect health with your love," he replied easily. Then he sighed when you didn't laugh. "If you want me to, I'll go sleep in the other room."
You chewed on your lip and crossed and then uncrossed your arms. You shuffled your feet and groaned. "It'll feel like you're deployed again, and I don't like that. So nevermind." You took him by the hand and led him to bed where he stayed with you all night.
-----------------------
You thought you'd be a little nervous, but you weren't. You thought you might feel a little self-conscious in your wedding dress, but you didn't. When you pulled into the parking lot in your shitty, red car, Bradley was already there, and you gasped as you looked at him, somehow more handsome than ever before. 
"Sweetheart," he sighed when he opened your door and reached out to help you stand. You could tell he had some tears gathering in his eyes, but you knew you did, too. You went right into his arms as he said, "You're beautiful." Then your lips met his as you both stood in that empty parking spot between the two vehicles, where you'd shared your first kiss. Thousands of kisses later, it was the spot where you and he would make your forever promises to each other.
"You'll end up wearing my lipstick," you whispered, breaking the kiss briefly before he chased you down for more. 
"I don't care."
The two of you were fully making out, your fingers in his hair as you moaned his name, when Maverick arrived on that ancient motorcycle. He whistled as he removed his helmet. "Want me to come back later?" he joked. 
"Absolutely not, Uncle Mav," Bradley told him. "I want to get married as soon as possible."
You smiled up at Bradley and tried to wipe your lipstick from his face with your thumbs as Maverick went over the short ceremony he had planned. He was your only accomplice today. He knew the truth where everyone else only knew the Thanksgiving lie. "Sound good?" he asked with his signature smile.
"Sounds perfect," you told him, kissing his cheek and leaving another smudge behind. 
Bradley had his chin resting on your shoulder as said, "It's almost 3:30. And oh shit, look. Here they come."
You turned to toward the hotel, and you saw all four parents in their beach going attire as they crossed the street at the crosswalk. Your mom saw you first and froze on the sidewalk as she shook your dad's arm. Then you heard Carole scream, "She's wearing her wedding dress! The dress we helped her pick out in Maryland!" Goose must have slept off his turkey stupor, because he was the first one to make his way past the Bronco to where the two of you were standing in his loud, tropical print shirt.
Goose had his son in his arms, slapping him on the back and then rubbing rough circles while they shared a whispered conversation that you knew was too private for you to hear. But it didn't matter, because Carole was screeching her way toward you. 
"I knew it! I knew it from the first time he mentioned you that you'd get married," she said, pulling you into her arms. She kissed your cheek seven times before she said. "The way my Bradley talked about you made me so hopeful for his future, and I just knew you'd be his wife. But I didn't know it would be today! I'm wearing a bathing suit!"
You laughed and said, "Surprise!" just as your parents reached you. 
Your mom had tears on her cheeks as she said, "I don't appreciate being lied to, but this is okay."
Your dad pulled you in for a hug and asked, "Are you getting married in the parking lot? If you needed money, you could have asked."
Your laughter rang out, and Bradley looked at you as you said, "My dad wants to know if we're getting married in the parking lot."
"Yes, we definitely are," Bradley replied as Carole sobbed against his chest. "This parking spot is where she kissed me for the first time. It was perfect. I was already half in love, and that threw me over the edge."
You could feel the heat rising in your face as a chorus of 'Aww!' came from everyone around you while Bradley smiled. And then the cars started pulling in. Nat was hanging out the window yelling when she saw you, and Jake drove right over some of the orange cones that had the far entrance blocked off. The commotion got louder and louder as all of your friends arrived, jostling you around in their excitement. 
"What a pair of sneaky liars!" Jake shouted in just his board shorts. "We're all going to look like a bunch of idiots in your wedding photos."
"You'd have looked that way regardless," Bradley told him as he pulled you closer. His brown eyes were wide and hopeful as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Everyone's here, Baby Girl. You ready to do this thing?"
You nodded and pecked him on the cheek. All of your friends were chattering and already taking pictures. Your parents were holding hands and smiling. Carole and Goose were looking at you like you were the best thing they'd ever seen in their lives. And Maverick was waiting quietly. 
"Yes. I'm ready, Roo," you promised, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as he whispered your name. 
"Okay, Mav," he rasped without taking his eyes off your face. "Make her my wife."
----------------------------
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Winter's King 6
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: i slept so gosh dang heavy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You haul up the cask, one of the smaller but still heavy for your arms. The stairs are treacherous to the upper floors of the castle and you waddle down the corridors hugging the vessel with heavy steps. As you near the ivory room, you slow and face the wooden barrier. Should you knock? 
You look down. You can’t balance the cask with one arm. You lean and tap with your foot as best you can. You wait and hear only the draughts flowing in from the windows. Then at once, the hinges groan and the door swings inward, the king already in retreat. 
You enter, trying not to show your struggle, and carry it to the round table. You set it down with a loud clunk and your shoulders ache. You feel around your apron pockets for the spout. You sense the king’s mood clouding in the chamber. 
“If you knew it was to be heavy, you could have said so,” he grits as he sits across the table from you. 
“Your highness, it is not very much,” you lie. Your arms feel weak as you put the spout in place. You did not bring a stein. “I will fetch a cup--” 
“I don’t care about the ale,” he rests one hand against the handle. “If you are thirsty, there is a cup in my bedroll.” 
You back away, confused. You don’t protest or question him. Did you mishear him? He did request ale. 
“So I am wed,” he mulls and toys with a loose lace hanging from the open collar of his shirt. It is untucked from his breeches as his hair is tangled around his shoulders. 
“Good tidings for that, your highness,” you offer the expected courtesy. 
He looks at you and you wince, putting your head down as you back away.  
“Apologies, I speak out of turn,” you touch your chin. 
He huffs, “weddings are supposed to be happy, are they not?” 
You bow your head lower, “I believe so, your highness.” 
He hums and tabs his fingers on the armrest, “I am not very happy.” 
You stay as you are. He makes it hard to serve, he is cryptic to the point you can’t guess what he wants. You dare to peek up quickly but promptly retract your gaze as you meet his eyes. 
“Speak your thoughts, I see them written upon your brow,��� he commands. 
You sway slightly and bend your arms behind you, “your highness--” 
“Look at me,” he demands. You obey. 
“Your highness,” you start cautiously, “you’ve been at war, perhaps you are sick for your home.” 
He scoffs and rubs the coarse stubble on his jaw, “my home? You would not think that if you knew it.” 
You slant your mouth. He raises his hand, gesturing with two fingers, “speak freely.” 
“You are correct, your highness, I would not know. I’ve never been further than a day’s ride from this castle. I only hear that the north is cold but anyone might guess that.” 
He snorts, “yes, it is cold. And dark. But the mountains, they are beautiful and when the snows fall, they glisten over the ground. So long as you have a fire to warm you, or a body near, it is not so bad.” He closes his eyes and leans his chin on his knuckles, “there are large elk with trees for antlers and the white wolves who blend into the snow but for their eyes, and the bears who sleep in the caves until the ground thaws in the springs.” He opens his eyes again and stares at you, “we have no summer there. The butterflies and flowers do not fare for long.” 
You imagine the place he describes. Or attempt to. It sounds frightening. No summer? 
“I’ve never seen snow,” you say at last. 
He sits up and his expression eases, “then you will to come see it.” 
You blink. Is he serious? Is that an order? 
“I serve the castle--” 
“You serve...” he swallows, “my wife and by rights I am her master. As she is yours, thus you serve me. She will need a familiar face once we are on to the Hinterlands. They are harrowing and she is weak. You will be her companion to see her through.” 
You don’t argue. You never do. He is right. All that is Lady Jazlene’s is now his. 
“Are you excited to come?” He asks. 
You think. You will do as you’re told thought it is an unexpected, almost undreamt of, opportunity. 
“I think I am, your highness. It is a far way and I’ve never been very far.” 
“Mm,” he puts his elbow on the table, almost amused as he watches you, “are you afraid?” 
“Why, yes, certainly,” you answer honestly. “You speak of bears and wolves. I’ve never seen those either, though I have seen deer.” 
“Do not fear, even the bears and the wolves bow to King Geralt,” he lets himself laugh, a bawdy rumbling like thunder. It surprises you, “but first we must ride south to tidy up the summer countries. I must meet my people, make sure they are not left to ruin.” 
You tilt your head but quickly fix it. He drones again, “speak.” 
“That is kind of you. No, as you said before, prudent. To make certain the people are not unhappy. War leaves scars.” 
“It leaves gaping wounds if one does stitch them up,” he counters, “a wise observation for a maid.” 
Your cheeks twitch. You think it’s a compliment. You lower your chin. 
“Ah,” he intones, “don’t. You don’t have to hide from me, little maid.” 
His last words drag over his tongue. His timbre is like smoke. You feel how it traps the air in your chest. You linger, uncertain, across from him. 
“Will you sit with me?” He asks and leans forward to pull out the chair nearest to him, “I rarely have pleasant company.” 
You hesitate. What about Jazlene? He has her. She is his wife now. You don’t dare ask that question. You move carefully around the chair and sit. He stays forward in his chair, his arm on the table. 
“I have told you of the Hinterlands, but what of you? I’ve seen some of your home but I expect this castle isn’t your real home,” he says. 
“It is the only home I remember,” you murmur, “I’ve been here since I was a girl.” 
His gold eyes flick down and he nods, “I didn’t...” he looks up again and leans back, a stitch in his brow, “would it make you unhappy to be away from home?” 
You purse your lips. You’ve never thought of leaving. You don’t feel any sort of way about the prospect, nothing more than ignorant. You don’t know what awaits you outside those walls. 
“I will go where I am bid,” you say evenly, “not many get to go so far from home. It would be nice to see more of the world.” 
He hums as he watches you, brushing his fingers through his white hair. You watch how his index catches in a wave and he tugs it free with agitation. He pauses, holding out his hand before dropping it to his lap. He inclines his head as if to say, ‘what are you looking at?’ 
“Are there many people like you there?” You ask, voice shaky. 
“Like me? There is only one king. I’ve made certain of that.” 
“No, I... never mind,” you curl one hand around the other, “your highness.” 
“Only me,” he affirms, “and what of you? I’ve yet to meet any like you.” 
You furrow your nose, “there are lots of maids, your highness.” 
He doesn’t respond and his shoulders drop. He once more runs his hand around his square jaw. He inhales and lets it out slowly. 
“You should leave now,” he utters softly, “before...” he pauses and his eyes wander to the window, “before the dawn.” 
You stand and bend your neck, “yes, your highness. I wish you a good sleep and a good marriage.” 
He returns only another thick grunt. You leave him without looking back. As you’re shut out in the dark corridor, a clatter comes from the other side. You turn back but do not go through. You smell something stringent and feel something wet seeping into the stitches of your shoes. You kneel and put your fingers in the liquid leaking under the door. It’s the ale. 
You stand and lean back on your heel. You never meant to anger the king. You will do well to stay out of the way. You don’t think you’ll be going to the Hinterlands after all. Merinda is much more fit for a royal court anyhow. 
⚔️
You sleep hardly an hour before you are on your feet again. The castle is in a flurry to get the horses and luggage on the road. You and Merinda help Lady Jazlene dress as her head threatens to droop this way and that. She’s tired and her yawns tickle your throat as you hold back a similar act. 
Lady Rezlyn enters, already dressed, her dark blue gown slashed with yellow in the sleeves. You and Merinda retreat to busy yourself with miniscule worries. The lady’s riding gloves and boots. A queen’s gloves and boots. 
“Oh, my daughter,” Rezlyn sweeps over to put her hands to Jazlene’s cheek, admiring her daughter as she ever does, “I see your wedding night has left you fatigued. I expected no less of a man like the king.” 
The lewd snicker from the duchess’ mouth makes your stomach churn. Jazlene trickles out a small chuckle and wriggles free of her mother’s grasp. She turns and sits to let you lace on her boots. 
“What is it, then?” Rezlyn challenges, folding her arms. “Did it hurt very much? I told you, daughter, it wouldn’t be very pleasant if you stay dry as parchment.” 
“Mother, please,” Jazlene begs, “I wasn’t...” she shakes her head and sniffs, “it was wonderful.” Her lie is told by the tremour in her void. She raises her head, “He is a true king and I am his queen now. These are matters between man and wife.” 
Rezlyn scowls and sneers, “very well then. How quickly your head swells.” 
“You will not mind so much when you see the advantage a queen’s mother reaps,” Jazlene’s bold tone returns. You see the same lady you’ve ever known. Haughty and stubborn. “I am off to meet my people, to ride through the kingdom. I will introduce my husband to my people and they will see they were wrong about me. Lady Theodora will choke on her stupid sapphire collar.” 
“Precious, I know they will,” Rezlyn smirks, “they will all see how wrong they were about our family. The will recall at last your father’s title and the history behind it.” 
Jazlene raises her chin and her nostrils flair, “is that why, mother? Is that why we’ve done this? To reclaim our glory?” 
“To find new glory. In a new kingdom. Darling, don’t you see, you will watch over a realm larger than any before. You and the greatest king the world has known.” 
You stand as Merinda hides her dry flutter of lashes. She is always much more amused by the flowery conversations between the duchess and her daughter. You can only think of the ale leaking under the door and the king’s declaration; ‘I am not very happy’. 
When Jazlene rises, you tie a cape around her shoulders, the shimmering silver with the blue and violet flowers sewn into it. She is sparkling in her new role. A queen with even a circlet of silver in her curls, though it was formerly a necklace.  
She emerges with her spine straight and her eyes set. She has readied all her life to be a wife though she just as easily acts a queen. Her shoulders are high and strong as she descends into the chaos of the castle. 
You and Merinda follow behind the two ladies. Lord Dustan blusters towards them, the toggle buttons of his riding jacket unaligned with the loops. He looks between his daughter and wife. 
“The horse will be ready shortly, are you ready to ride?” He sneers at Jazlene. 
“Father, I am the queen. You do not tell me--” 
“You are a queen and queen’s cannot be tardy. We must way to the capital to consolidate the kingdom. This is not a pageant,” he hisses. 
“Is the carriage ready?” Jazlene asks. 
“Carriage? You will ride abreast. All haste is required.” 
“Father,” Jazlene shifts on her feet with discomfort, “I’d be better on a cushion than a saddle--” 
“Argue it with the king then. His orders.” 
Dustan storms past without further discussion and disappears through the outer doors into the courtyard. Jazlene pouts into a grimace and looks at her mother. Rezlyn gives a wry shrug. 
“Well, your highness...” Rezlyn taunts. 
“Motherrrrr,” Jazlene growls before she spins and breezes away in her father’s stead. 
You trail the duchess into the dim hues of dawn. The yard is even more hectic than within. The king’s soldiers move like ants on a hill as their horses stand in patient rows, ready to be mounted. It is the Debray party that is in disarray. 
As Jazlene weaves through the crowd, several of the castle hands back away and show their deference for their new queen. The black and grey soldiers of the Hinter carry on in checking their saddle bags and weapons. The king is near the gate, head down as a steely haired soldier speaks to him. 
The duchess’ daughter, newly married, awoken a queen, approaches her husband without hesitation. 
“I am told I am not to have a carriage? I cannot sit a horse. It is unseemly--” 
King Geralt signals to his man with irritation. The soldier with eyes as grey as his hair quiets and backs away. You can tell by the pin on his mail that he must be important. 
“You will,” the king says evenly. “We must be quick. I cannot have a broken axle. We ride as if to battle. In itself, this is exactly what we face.” 
“But you have won--” 
“I won in blood, but there are other victories to be claimed,” the king interjects, “still your tongue and obey your husband and king. The world does not exist as your cloistered life in this castle.” 
“I am the queen and I want a carriage!” Jazlene squeals shrilly. Several heads turn as you keep your chin low. You know it isn’t the right response but Jazlene does not take orders easily. 
“You have not yet been coronated,” the king snarls, “do not forget so quickly on who’s back you rose.” 
Jazlene huffs and puts her hands to her hips. She steps closer to the king and he glares down at her. You peek up to find his eyes blazing. 
“I am your wife, not your servant,” she snaps, “and you will not speak to me as one.” 
He blinks and you retract your stare. You look over at Merinda as her face strains with horror. The tension of the confrontation quiets the courtyard. 
“If I need to have you strapped to the horse like a bedroll, then so be it,” King Geralt hisses. “I have done my duty to you so you will do yours or you should void our contract. Obey.” 
Jazlene stands defiantly close to the king. They stare at one another, the air thrumming between them. Lady Rezlyn reaches to touch her daughter’s sleeve. 
“You will look so pretty aback a horse, daughter. Imagine what the people will think when they see you resplendent as you ride into the capital, eh? You shouldn’t hide in a carriage, you will want to meet your people.” 
The daughter puffs out and steps back at her mother’s tugging. She retreats slowly as the king does not budge, his face twisted with anger. The duchess has tendered a fragile truce. 
“Come, I haven’t ridden in some time,” Rezlyn coaxes the younger woman. 
“And you will not,” King Geralt speaks at last, “my wife will ride. I see no need of her mother. She is no naive maiden.” 
Rezlyn flinches, “your highness?” 
The king raises his hand and gestures with his fingers. Two soldiers come forth in his colours, “I will leave some of my men to watch over your walls. The word will spread how Debray did assist in my victory. I have yet to assuage that animosity so you would be best to stay and hide behind your walls.” He drops his arm, gripping his pommel, “your husband has not yet given all he promised.” 
Rezlyn grips her daughter’s arm and staggers as if she’s been struck. What the king has said is clear. They are traitors, not only in the eyes of their fellow summer lords, but in his. He has not trust and the duchess will be kept in her castle as little more than a hostage. 
“Your highness,” Lady Rezlyn rasps, “I shall do as you bid. I will only say farewell to my daughter.” 
��Make it fast,” the king sneers. 
205 notes · View notes
alphabetatoes · 22 days
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you'd make me pay? (jjk x reader)
aka the one where you joke w the men of jjk about paying to get affection (g. satoru + n. kento + k. choso + f. toji)
a.n.: reader is a comedienne n loves to mess w these men (the way the toji one actually happened to me 🙃)
c.w.: 18+, mdni
gojo
"C'mon- Wanna mark you up. Let everyone know you're mine." Satoru had spent practically the entire night trying to convince you to let him give you a hickey.
"Give me $10 and I'll think about it." The issue wasn't Gojo's insistence on marking you. It was his inability to adhere to subtlety. Yet he adored when he could see those red splotches of skin peaking out of your shirt collar.
Gojo stretches his body across your legs, his frame managing to span the entirety of the couch. "Toru, you're crushing me." You move the rogue white strands of hair out of his face.
"Please babe. Need you so bad." His bottom lip bulges as his whining continues.
You cave to his begging, giving him a light pat on the arm. "Fine, you big baby."
Gojo lifts himself from you and pulls you into his lap, a goofy smile strung across his face.. He takes a chaste kiss from your lips, reveling in his victory. You tilt your head to the side as he buries himself in the crook, nipping and sucking along your neck.
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nanami
Sharing a bath was not only a way for the two of you to spend time with one another, but to also relax from the stress of the day. Kento had poured the two of you a glass of wine, and you lit a candle to aid in the tranquility.
You're sat on opposite sides of the tub, indulging in the warmth of the water. "C'mere. Want you to sit in my lap while I wash your hair." Kento's hands draw soothing circles on your ankles, gently tapping them to get your attention.
You sink further into the bubble bath, taking a sip of the wine. "I'm so comfy though." The idea of having to move your tired limbs on your own was a travesty. "I'll need at least $15 if you expect me to move on my own."
"How about I make you dinner and give you a massage after instead?"
"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Nanami." You feign concentration as you mull over his proposal. "But you've got yourself a deal." You clink your wine glass into his, cheers-ing to the proposal.
Once you're seated on Kento's lap, his strong hands make idle work to wash your hair. You let a hand sink to his waist, stroking against his cock to help him relax as well.
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choso
You were nestled into Choso's chest as the two of you watched a movie in the living room. One hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand laid rest on the top of your leg, which you let rest draped over his.
"Can I kiss you?" Choso's breath tickles your ear as he whispers his request.
"For a dollar." You purse your lips, waiting for Choso to lean in.
He reaches for the wallet in his back pocket, pulling out a bill. "I only have a $20- y'know what? Just keep it." As he shoves the bill into your hand, you gently push it away.
"I was only kidding, baby." You try not to laugh too hard as you quell his nerves. The sincerity staining Choso's face has you melting. You give him a sweet smile, grabbing onto his cheeks to pepper him with kisses.
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toji
Toji was out of town on a job, leaving you unfulfilled for about a week. To help sate that aching feeling, you'd planned to video chat
“Your tits look great in that top.” Toji eyes you up and down, flashing a coy wink when he meets your gaze. “Think they’d look even better without it, though.”
Feeling playful, you give him an ultimatum. “Give me $5 and I’ll do it.”
“You’d make me pay?” His smirk turns into a pout, frustrated by your proposition. Whether he'd admit it or not, Toji missed you just as much. Craving for any glimpse of the body he had longed for.
“Now it’s $20.”
“Cut me a break, doll. Don’t need you actin’ like a brat when you got me all worked up like this.”
Toji pans the phone down to his waist. The material of his sweatpants is tented up as his dick strains against it. You flip him off and flash him a quick look at your tits, not quite giving into his demands.
He’d owe you big time once he got home.
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drabblesandimagines · 22 days
Text
Bedtime Tales
Gale of Waterdeep x reader, established relationship
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--
You, rather poorly, attempt to bite down on a yawn, and Gale can’t help but frown as he watches you scoop yet another spoon of coffee into your mug.
“Darling?” He asks, tentatively.
“Mm?” You reply over your shoulder from the counter – waiting for the water to boil.  
“I am aware you prefer your coffee on the strong side, but surely four spoons will suffice.”
“Four?” You look down – the mug is half full of grounds - apparently unaware of what you were doing. “Oh. I must’ve lost count.”
“I noticed.” He gets to his feet then to stand behind you and wraps a gentle arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest before stooping a little so he can rest his chin upon your shoulder. “What’s going on in that sweet mind of yours, hm?”
“Nothing.” Another poorly concealed yawn.
“Did you not sleep well?”
You hesitate for a moment and consider a lie – it would be harmless, wouldn’t it? – but you lack the energy to put in the effort.
“I don’t think I did at all last night – just tossed and turned until dawn.” You’d felt tired, running errands all around Waterdeep the entire day but your mind hadn’t settled, jumping from thought to thought.
“Oh, love...” Gale presses a long kiss against your temple and relishes the feeling of you finally relaxing into his hold. He wished he could whisk you back off to bed, a day of cuddles, wrapped up in blankets but - as the clock chooses that moment to so cruelly chime - he has a cohort of students awaiting his teachings at Blackstaff Academy.
“You should go.” You turn and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
He takes a moment to brush a stray piece of hair from your face, concealing a frown at the dark rings under your eyes – perhaps this was not the first night of poor sleep you’d suffered – and smiles. “I love you more.”
--
You’d been quiet through dinner, despite Gale’s open-ended questions to try and get conversation flowing. He’d suggested the two of you retire earlier tonight than you usually did and you hadn’t protested. After a teasing kiss goodnight, you’d rolled onto your side, chasing sleep…
It’s the sound of a stifled sob that wakes Gale with a start.
“Darling?”
The sound stops with a hiccup, as you press your face deeper into the pillow, hoping he’ll drift back off to sleep.
No such luck though as Gale only murmurs a cantrip to light the lamps surrounding the bed with a soft glow.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You sniff, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. “I can go sit on the balcony and-“
He grabs your wrist, worried you’ll vanish in front of him. “You will do no such thing – I’d never dream of it. Please, what’s the matter?”
“I don’t know.” You take a deep, exasperated breath. “I’m just… I’m so tired that I’m beyond it. My eyes sting from being open, they sting even when they’re closed, but I just can’t sleep. There’s too many thoughts in my head, it’s worse than the damn tadpole.”
“I could cast sleep-” He reaches for your hand.
“No.” You answer, abruptly, and he’s a little startled by the aggression in your tone. “Sorry. I know you would mean well by it, but from having it cast upon me in the past… it was never a pleasant nor restful experience.”
He frowns, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. There’s so much he needs to learn about you - still a little guarded about events that transpired before him and the nautiloid.
“My apologies, my love. I did not mean to bring up any bad memories.”
“No, I know.” You squeeze his fingers. “I’ll be all right.”
He mulls for a moment, before an idea comes to mind. “I might have a cure. No magic required either.”
You smile, still tired, but gather enough strength to tease. “But you love magic.”
“Whilst I am rather fond of it, there are proven alternatives to such quandaries as this.” He shrugs. “When I was a young boy, trying to read every book known to man, my head too grew busy with thoughts. Though perhaps I was just too excited to sleep, I think we should still give it a go.”
“What is it?” You roll over onto your side, clutching the pillow to your chest.
“My mother used to read to me and, if you’ll permit me, my darling, I would love to do the same for you.”
You squeeze the pillow, casting your eyes down. “Mm, I’ve never been much of a reader before bed.”
“Ah, I have noticed.” How could he not? There was only one side of the bed that had a stack of tomes piled high besides it. “But being read to is quite different, I assure you. Would you care to try?”
You consider the idea for a moment. “All right. There’s nothing to lose, I suppose.”
“And, hopefully, sleep to gain. Hm, what do I have that would suit…?” Gale turns to the side, scans through the pile, before snatching one from the middle with a deft hand - you’re surprised the whole thing doesn’t topple. “Perfect. One of my childhood favourites, in fact.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And you still read it?”
Gale shrugs a shoulder, half-heartedly. “I like to indulge every now and again.”
“What is it?”
He turns the cover towards you – a fine leather tome, purple, with gold lettering. “The very creatively titled Baldurian Tales of Wonder. It’s a collection of short, whimsical stories – happy endings guaranteed.”
He places the tome between the two of you before turning slightly and fluffing up his pillows. Once seemingly satisfied, he sits up a little more and spreads his legs. “Come, get comfy.”
“You want me to…?”
“Mm-hm. You’ll want to see the pictures, naturally.”
“Naturally,” you repeat. “Not anything to do with you wanting me cuddled against your chest.” Gale does not respond, only raises a knee with a gentle click so you can slide over and nestle down against his bare chest.
He slides his knee back down and picks up the tome, resting it on the blanket covering the two of you, and flipping to the first tale.
“Once upon a time-"
“Are you going to do voices?”
He chuckles – it rumbles comfortingly through your back and you unconsciously relax once more into his embrace. “Would you like me to do voices?”
“Did your mother do voices?”
“She… tried her best.”
“Voices, please.”
He presses a kiss to your temple. “Voices it is.”
He begins to read, slowly and softly, being sure not to get too carried away with the characterization of certain characters. His voice is comforting, reassuring, and though your eyes still sting, you try your best to focus on the words and pictures in front of you, your mind finally becoming quiet, your eyes beginning to close…
Gale does not even make it to the end of the first story when he hears your breathing change, though he continues to read it aloud.
Just to be sure you’re truly asleep, that is, not because he wishes to finish the tale.
---
I had a bad day and I wanted some cuddly fluff x
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runawrites-blog · 6 months
Text
Trust (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Summary: You notice it during a quiet evening spent with Bucky and then it won't leave your head again. Bucky is afraid of touching you with his vibranium arm, going out of his way to avoid doing so. You take it upon yourself to try and show him that he doesn't have to worry that you're not afraid, and that you trust him completely. (Gender Neutral Reader) Word Count: 6,092 Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Mild Discussions of Past Traumatic Events, Mild Violence and Mentions of Fighting, No Y/N, Petnames (Doll, Love), Non-Graphic Smut Scene (To avoid it skip from "It was three days later" and continue at "You moved your hands", so skip the first paragraph there. Please do not read it and instead skip it if you are not 18+/ Skip it if you are a Minor) Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51380476
---
The first time you noticed it, was during a stormy night which you had spent curled up in your bed with Bucky, reading a book while he was lying by your side, his head on your chest and his right arm looped around your waist. Eventually, you decided to turn down for the night, and seeing as Bucky had not moved for the past hour or so, you were careful as you put your book down and turned off the light, assuming that he had fallen asleep. But as you gingerly shimmied down on the bed he looked up at you and you gave him an apologetic look, thinking you’d woken him up.
“Sorry, Bucky, I just wanted to lie down so we can turn in for the night.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his head as you settled on your pillow. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“You didn’t, Sweetheart. I was about to drift off.”
“You could have if you were tired, Love. I wouldn’t have minded.” You soothed, lips moving down to his cheek. “Why didn’t you?”
“Better safe than sorry.” He sat up and you watched as he reached up to detach his vibranium arm before putting it down close to the bed and lying back down next to you. “Now we can finally settle down.”
His words made you still in your movements, a terrible suspicion dawning on you that painted a lot of his previous actions in a completely different light. Bucky usually preferred to hold your hand with his right one and always had you sit by that side. During intimate moments he never touched you with his left hand and solely used it for keeping his balance. Every time you shared a bed he detached his arm before settling down. You had always assumed that it was simply more comfortable to sleep without the metal arm weighing him down and had it not been for his words you would have continued to think so but now you knew that this was not the only reason.
Bucky was afraid of hurting you with his vibranium arm.
For a few seconds, you mulled over that suspicion, thinking about how to breech the subject, how to assure him that you trusted him not to hurt you, to talk about his fears. But you were at a loss and when Bucky turned halfway back onto his stomach, head settling on your shoulder and face buried at your neck as his right arm looped around your waist you decided to not speak up about it for now. Bucky was exhausted from a long day and you wanted to offer him the comfort and safety he needed. So you just wrapped your arms around him and buried your nose in his hair.
“Sleep well.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” Bucky mumbled back, voice soft as he held onto you tightly. “Sleep well, Sweetheart.”
“With you by my side, I always do.”
Against your skin, you could feel his mouth turn into a smile and despite your worries, you felt grateful that he was at the very least smiling and that he seemed comfortable. But his words still circled your head. Bucky was afraid of hurting you with his metal arm and he was actively going out of his way to keep it away from you. You wanted nothing more than to prove to him that his worries were unfounded but you didn’t know how to go about it -- and even if you did, you knew he wouldn’t believe you.
When the next morning rolled around, waking you with the rays of sun that gently fell in through the curtains and had long since chased the rain away, it only took your thoughts a few seconds to circle back to the previous night. A frown overtook your features as you once more thought about what to do but before you could come up with an idea a hand reached up to gently carass your cheek.
“What’s got you frowning first thing in the morning, Doll?”
You looked down at Bucky and gave him a soft smile. “Nothing important, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t too heavy, was I? I keep telling you that if me sleeping halfway on top of you is too heavy you have to tell me so I can move.”
“No, that’s really not it, I swear.” You said, chuckling softly as you shook your head. “If anything I like having your weight on me. You’re like my personal weighted blanket.”
Bucky leaned up to kiss your cheek before he slowly sat up and you admired how his body stretched in the warm sunlight, outlining his features. For a moment you allowed yourself to smile at his domestic moment with your partner. But when he reached for his arm to reattach it to where it hooked into his shoulder all the concern from the previous night came back and once more you thought about what to do to ease his worries. You still knew that he would not believe you if you simply told him these things but perhaps it was worth a try to show him that you did not share his worries even in the slightest. So, you decided to make it your mission to prove this to Bucky.
---
You tried to show him that you were not scared of his arm just about half an hour later after you had gotten out of the shower and found him making breakfast in the kitchen. Since the two of you had a date at a current exhibition at the local museum planned for the day Bucky was preparing a quick breakfast, cutting some fruit up, and setting the table with all the things he knew you liked. He was currently cutting up an apple into slices when you entered, his back turned to the door, and you quietly made your way toward him before draping yourself across his back though you still made sure to make enough noise so that he would hear you approach and wouldn’t be startled.
“Thank you for preparing something to eat.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved around and embraced his left arm, leaning your head against the metallic shoulder of it. “What do you say? Should we bring lunch with us or should we try to find a place to eat while we’re out?”
Bucky froze a little as you leaned into his vibranium arm and quickly turned around, leaning against the counter, subtly but effectively turning the arm away from you with his right side now facing you. “I say we go find something while we’re out.”
“Are you looking forward to the exhibition?” You asked with a smile, trying to ignore his actions so as to not make him uncomfortable. “I know you’ve been very interested in space travel lately.”
“Can you blame me?” Bucky joked, returning your smile. “I recently learned about how much further we have come in terms of space travel in the last decades. It’s really amazing, I have to say.”
“I’m not blaming you at all. I’m really interested in it, too, and I think your interest in science is really charming.” With another small kiss on his cheek, you moved away to sit down at the table. “Your excitement about it is quite frankly adorable.”
“Adorable?” Bucky chuckled as he sat down opposite you. “I am far from adorable.”
“I’d beg to differ. When you smile in amazement at a piece in the museum or your eyes light up when you get to listen to someone’s stories of space travel you’re so sweet that I can barely handle it.”
“What can I say? I’ve always been interested in science, even back in the fourties.” Bucky smiled softly as he began to eat. “Steve and I would go to science fairs, exhibitions, and museums all the time.”
“Tell me more about that, please.”
---
You hoped the museum would give you more opportunities to show Bucky that you were not afraid of his vibranium arm, planning on trying to hold his left hand or onto his arm. Unfortunately, you found that you never got the right opportunity to hold onto his arm because you never stood in one spot long enough to cuddle up to him and you never had the chance to hold his left hand because he kept the guide to the exhibition clutched in that one. You resigned to try again later and simply enjoyed your date with your boyfriend, smiling at his excitement and interest, reading all the informational signs, and looking out for the things you had encountered on the few space missions you had been on.
“Can you believe we’ve been in one of these before in actual space?” Bucky asked as you made your way through the recreated interior of a space ship and you knew that he was referring to your latest mission where the two of you had set out on a spaceship to an old abandoned space station where you had been getting important documents from. “It’s amazing when you think of it.”
“What a coincidence. I had the exact same thought just a few seconds ago.” You grinned as you turned to him. “It always seems unbelievable to me.”
“I honestly find it hard to believe, too, but I have encountered many unbelievable things in the past few years.” Bucky mused with a small smile, looking back at you. “Want to continue on? The next room is a display of our galaxy.”
“Let’s go.”
The two of you entered the next room, a big hall that had holograms of all the planets in the known galaxy projected above the visitors who were able to circle the model of the sun placed in the middle of the exhibit on a metal walkway. You and Bucky walked on the metal walkway, looking at the display, stopping next to the hologram of Earth and looking up as the voiceover talked about the newly discovered planets in the galaxy. Gingerly you reached out to grab Bucky’s left hand, squeezing it with yours as you leaned into his side a little.
As soon as your fingers closed around his, Bucky pulled his hand back and rounded your body. You watched his movements with a small frown but you couldn’t help but smile softly as he held out his right hand to you, flexing his finger in invitation and you took his hand, holding it tightly as you once more leaned into his side, wanting nothing more than to be close to him. But Bucky seemed to have caught your frown because he sighed softly, keeping his eyes firmly on the exhibit as he spoke.
“Sorry, Sweetheart.” He whispered. “I’d rather you hold my flesh hand.”
“There’s nothing to apologise for.” You said softly, deciding against speaking up on his worries so as to not ruin the date for him. “I simply want you to be comfortable.”
Bucky was quiet for a few seconds before he changed the topic. “Do you like the exhibition? I think it’s really interesting to learn about all the ways space travel has changed and hear about the new planets we’ve made contact with.”
“It really is.” You agreed, going with his change in topic and offering him a playful smile. “And I enjoy seeing you so invested and excited about something. You can be such a nerd and I love it.”
“And you’re any better?” He teased right back, giving you a sly smirk. “You’ve read every informational sign there was to read.”
“I’ve never said I wasn’t just as big of a nerd.” You chuckled, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “That’s why we get along so well.”
Bucky smiled and pulled you into a gentle kiss, his right hand settling on the small of your back as he leaned into you. All you could do was reciprocate, your eyes fluttering shut just as his did. He pulled back all too soon but he kept his forehead leaning against yours as he sighed softly. “I love you so much.”
“I love you just as much.”
---
It was three days later that you noticed how big Bucky’s concerns were once more. He still took his arm off when you slept in bed with him and avoided having you hold his left hand every time but you really saw his fears when the two of you shared an intimate moment. You were in Bucky’s lap, his right hand on your hip, guiding your movements. His face was buried at your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh there as you held onto him. His hand tightened on your hip and the metal one clenched the headboard behind him.
You moved your hands from his shoulders, intending on trailing them down his body but as you took them off him you lost your balance and tipped backward. Bucky reacted quickly and brought his left hand around you to catch your fall, holding you up by your upper back, stopping his previous movements, and looking at you in worry. Tipping backwards so suddenly startled you and you gasped in surprise. And just as you did Bucky froze, eyes going wide in what you could only describe as horrified guilt as he pulled away his left hand, switching it with his right to pull you back into a sitting position.
When he was sure you wouldn’t lose your balance again he pulled back all together, gently coaxing you off him and physically withdrawing from you, face scrunching up in concern. You got to your knees, getting closer to him again, feeling worry rise in you at his actions. While you knew he held back from touching you with his metal arm this extreme of a reaction to accidentally touching you with it was concerning. But before you could speak he did.
“I am so sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“I am so sorry that I hurt you.” Bucky explained quickly, getting to his knees and placing his right hand on your shoulder to turn your upper body around so he could see your back. “All I could think of was not letting you fall. I didn’t think this through and I-- I caught you with the vibranium arm and-- and now I’ve hurt you.”
You were quick to get onto your knees and bring your hands to his shoulders, making him look at you. “Bucky, I’m fine, I swear. You didn’t hurt me at all, I promise.”
“But you gasped. It sounded like I hurt you when I caught you.”
“Bucky, you didn’t hurt me.” You assured him, looking at him in earnest. “I gasped because I was surprised at falling. If anything, you caught me and probably stopped me from actually getting hurt. You did not hurt me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” You assured him and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his temple. “You could never hurt me.”
Bucky opened his mouth but then closed it again, deciding to remain quiet and instead simply drew you close to him, bringing his right arm up to hold you sightly. You had a suspicion about what he had been planning to say but you said nothing and simply wrapped your arms around him, climbing into his lap to cradle his head to your shoulder and Bucky took a deep breath before he spoke again.
“Can we simply cuddle tonight?”
“Of course, we can.”
“I’m sorry for ruining--”
“I’m not even going to let you finish that sentence.” You interrupted, keeping your voice gentle. “You haven’t ruined anything and you could never ruin anything by not wanting to sleep with me or needing to stop in the middle of sex. Do you understand?”
He nodded against your shoulder. “I understand.”
“How about we cuddle up under the blankets and simply watch a movie?”
“Depends.” Bucky drew back to give you a playful smile and that was enough to ease your worries a little bit. “Will there be popcorn?”
“Of course.”
---
Bucky’s terrified reaction to thinking he had accidentally hurt you didn’t leave your mind for days. You made sure to assure him that you felt absolutely safe with him and eventually he started to relax again. Your routine continued as usual until, after a small mission, Sam came over for a visit to celebrate everyone’s safe return. The three of you had eventually ended up watching a movie on your sofa after dinner -- one that Sam had suggested because Bucky hadn’t seen it, yet.
As the movie went on you inched closer to Bucky, wanting to be close to him after a rather hard mission. So while he was engrossed by the movie you reached out to lift his left arm up and put it around your shoulders. It took Bucky a few seconds to react and he moved his arm away from you, resting it on the back of the sofa before looking at you.
“Would you mind switching sides with Sam?” Bucky asked softly, a frown on his face as he looked at you. “Then I can hold you all evening, Doll.”
You looked at him for a second, worry overtaking you as you once more saw how worried he was about touching you with his vibranium arm. “I don’t mind staying on your left, Love.”
“Sweetheart, I’d be more comfortable if you moved to my right side.” Bucky explained quietly before turning to Sam. “You wouldn’t mind switching sides, right?”
Sam’s worried eyes locked with yours for a second before he looked back at Bucky. “Of course not.”
With that, he stood and the two of you switched sides, Sam on Bucky’s left now and you on his right. Bucky extended his right arm and you gave him a soft smile before leaning into him, embracing him as he pulled you close to his side. The three of you continued to watch the movie but all you could think about was how worried Bucky still was about touching you with his metal arm and wondering how you could prove to him that he didn’t have to be. When the move was over and Bucky left to put the dishes away you couldn’t help but speak to Sam about it, wanting to hear someone else’s thoughts on this whole situation.
“How do I help him with that?”
“With the dishes?”
“No.” You rolled your eyes a little, annoyed by him not immediately understanding the issue but also somewhat understanding the miscommunication. “I mean how do I help him with how scared he is to touch me with his metal arm? It seems like he’s scared to hurt me with it.”
Sam looked at the door to the kitchen before nodding. “Now that you say it he really seems a little concerned about it.”
“He is more than a little concerned, Sam.” You said, sounding more worried by the second. “He keeps me exclusively to his right side, he won’t touch me with his left hand and he panics whenever he accidentally does so.”
“Really?”
“Last week he caught me with his left arm and went into a downright panic, apologising for hurting me multiple times.” You recounted the event that was still present in your mind before sighing. “I really want to help him see that I am not afraid of him hurting me and that I trust him completely but I don’t know how. Do I just tell him? Do I show him? How do I show him?”
Sam thought for a few seconds before sighing softly. “I would continue doing what you’re already doing -- telling him you don’t mind him touching you with it, showing him that you trust him and just reassuring him when he overthinks.”
“You think that will be enough?”
“He’s made such great progress and you helped him with that. I can’t remember the last time he was so relaxed and smiling so much.” Sam reassured you with a soft smile. “You help him a lot.”
“I just worry about him.”
“I think that he’s spent so long thinking of his arm as nothing but a weapon -- even after he got the vibranium one -- that it will simply take him some time to realise that it’s not inherently dangerous.”
His words got you thinking for a few seconds before you nodded. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
“Of course, you should respect it if he feels more comfortable not touching you with his left arm, but you could always simply talk to him. If you think bringing this up will help, then sit down with him, tell him that you feel absolutely safe with him, and reassure him.”
“Thank you, Sam.”
“Anytime.”
“What are you two talking about?” Bucky asked as he walked back into the room, chuckling a little as you and Sam turned around in perfect unison. “That synchronised head turn is pretty creepy, you know?”
“Should we stand at the end of a hallway like the twins in The Shining?”
Bucky gave you a questioning look. “I don’t think I’ve seen that movie before.”
“We could watch it right now.” Sam exclaimed before smiling a little as he came up with a quick excuse as to what you two had been talking about. “We were actually just wondering what movie to watch next.”
“Then let’s watch that movie.” Bucky said and sat back down, pulling you close to him. “It’s a horror movie, I assume from context, right? Won’t it scare you, Doll?”
You chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Horror movies don’t scare me. Besides, they are nothing compared to the bad guys we fight on a daily basis.”
“Will you get scared?” Sam grinned at Bucky, giving him a teasing look. “If you end up scared in your partner’s lap, I will laugh at you. I hope you know that.”
“I don’t get scared that easily.”
“We shall see.”
---
After your talk with Sam and deciding you should speak to Bucky about his fears, you waited for the right time to do so but when it never seemed like the appropriate moment, you sat down next to him on the bed one quiet evening. The slight drizzle outside had forced you to stay in that day and Bucky was reading on the bed when you came inside. He looked up from his book to give you a small smile but when he saw your serious expression he put it down and sat up properly.
“Love, what’s wrong?”
“Can I talk to you?”
“You can talk to me about literally anything.”
You nodded and sat down on the bed next to him. “I’m gonna say it straight out because I don’t want to beat around the bush and honestly, I’m unsure of how to approach this subject. I realised that you are worried or afraid to touch me with your vibranium arm and I need you to know that I am not scared of it or worried you’ll hurt me with it.”
Bucky looked at you for almost a full minute before he seemed to have concluded what to say. “Doll, I really appreciate you telling me that you’re not afraid of-- of my arm and that you’re speaking up on this because you worry about me but I-- I know how strong and destructive this arm is. It was built as a weapon.”
“But it no longer is. You use it to help people, to protect them. I just-- I mean, just on the last mission we were on you saved a whole elevator full of innocent civilians by holding it up until they could be evacuated.” You tried to reason. “I know it’s hard for you to believe and I understand that.”
“It’s hard to realise that. I know that I help innocent people and I know that what happened to me wasn’t my fault, trust me. After everything that happened, I’ve learned that.” Bucky said before sighing deeply, taking your hand into his right one. “But that doesn’t change the fact that objectively speaking the arm was designed to be a weapon, that it’s capable of terrible things and could hurt you even if I don’t want to.”
“Anyone is capable of hurting people, metal arm or not, James.”
“It was designed as a weapon.” Bucky repeated and you realised how mentally caught up he was on that fact. “A gun is still dangerous even if it’s not inherently bad.”
You were quiet for a second, gaze dropping to his vibranium arm. “The arm you have now wasn’t designed as a weapon, though. You got it in Wakanda, not at a Hydra base. The scientists there gave it to you because they trust you not to hurt anyone.”
“Yet they put in a mechanism that allowed them to detach it with the press of a button.” Bucky said, eyes dropping and tearing up just slightly. “And I don’t blame them for not trusting me completely.”
“I do.” You said in earnest, squeezing his hand with both of yours. “I trust you blindly, James. Please try to believe me that I trust you completely.”
Bucky looked up at that, teary eyes meeting yours before he pulled his hand away to wrap around your shoulders and pull you into a tight embrace, burying his face at your shoulder. You quickly hugged him back, bringing a hand up to cradle his head.
“Thank you, Love. Your trust means the world to me.” Bucky whispered into your shoulder, voice tight with emotions. “But I still know that the arm could potentially harm you and I mean-- I would feel better if I weren’t touching you with it.”
“That’s alright.” You said softly, holding him tightly. “Whatever you need is alright. I just noticed how scared you were and I wanted you to know that I trust you.”
“Thank you.”
---
A new mission coming along shoved all your remaining worries to the back of your mind. Now infiltrating a base of previous HYDRA agents to retrieve secret files was not an easy task but you and Bucky had encountered hurdles far bigger and together you had always managed to overcome them. It took a while but eventually, you two were rushing to your getaway car, dodging bullets from the former agents while you kept the files safely clutched against your chest.
Bucky threw open the car door and got inside while you slid across the hood of it to get to the passenger side. Once you were inside, he hit the gas and took off, tires screeching against the concrete and you gripped the back of the seat to keep yourself steady as he swerved around a building to get away from the abandoned warehouse the former agents had holed up in. As you buckled up he turned to you for a second.
“You okay, Doll? No injuries?”
“I’m fine. How about you?”
“Me, too. Let’s get out of here.”
But before you could there was a loud bang from underneath the car and before you knew what was happening the vehicle flipped over. Everything went by in a blur. The car landed on the roof and when you opened your eyes again you found yourself hanging upside down from your seat. Bucky unbuckled himself and was at your side in an instant, worry etched on his face.
“Are you alright?”
“Mostly fine. What happened?”
“I think they threw a bomb underneath the car. I know I did it once back under HYDRA’s control and the whole car flipped over like ours did.”
You were about to answer when a shot was fired at the car and pierced through the back window before the bullet lodged itself in the back of your seat’s fabric. Bucky pulled out his gun and you tried to free yourself from the seatbelt just to realise that its mechanism had been damaged in the crash, leaving you unable to unbuckle it. Anything you could have used to cut yourself free was out of reach and so was your gun. Panic rose in you as you turned to look out the window to find one of the agents approaching your getaway car with a rifle in their hand.
They aimed at your head and fired. Fully expecting to be hit you turned your head away, not able to move much due to the seat belt still holding you relatively in place. You knew that even if you moved your upper body, the agent would still be able to hit you if they just slightly readjusted their aim, so you closed your eyes in anticipation. Then suddenly a metallic clang echoed through the car and when you looked back toward the window you found your sight obstructed by Bucky’s vibranium arm.
He had blocked the bullet with it. He had saved your life.
Then he fired at the agent that had shot at you, sending them to the floor. Quickly, he used the vibranium arm to yank your seatbelt from where it was fastened to the car and free you. Once out from your confinement, you grabbed your gun and helped him shoot at the agents to take them out.
And soon enough, all of them were down just in time for your backup to arrive. Both of you were quickly helped into the other car and then you were off on your way, Bucky sitting next to you in the back of the SHIELD van. When the van had started driving off and you two knew you were safe, Bucky turned to you.
“Are you injured, Love? They didn’t hit you, did they?”
“No, they didn’t.” You said, taking his left hand into yours and before he could pull it back you shook your head, speaking up again. “You saved me. You say the arm was designed as a weapon but today it saved my life.”
Bucky looked at you for what felt like forever but was realistically not more than about a minute before his vibranium hand squeezed around yours, eliciting a small smile from you. He was slowly realising that his arm was more than a weapon and seeing that it had the potential to protect the ones he loved. You knew that holding your hand was a small step forward but it still meant moving in the right direction.
“Thank you for saving my life, James.”
“I would always save you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
---
A few hours later found you and Bucky at your place, reclining on your bed and watching a movie on your laptop. Bucky was still working off his list of things he had missed, the idea having been something he’d picked up from Steve a few years earlier, and this evening you two had decided to watch a movie that he had yet to see. The blanket was draped over the two of you and Bucky’s right hand was settled on your hip, thumb gently rubbing your skin. With the adrenaline of the mission wearing off, Bucky right next to you, and the sun setting outside you felt your eyelids growing heavy. The movements of your left hand that had been running up and down his right arm were faltering now and again. Your head kept drifting onto Bucky’s shoulder before you brought it back up to watch the movie.
But eventually, your exhaustion combined with his gentle ministrations made you drift off, head coming down to rest on his shoulder and body snuggling into his side. Had you not been so exhausted from the fight you would have noticed that your head had fallen onto Bucky’s left shoulder, left hand coming up to wrap around his biceps.
You were awoken a few minutes later by a loud noise coming from the television, immediately followed by Bucky quietly swearing and the volume being turned off. Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head to look up at him and he gave you an apologetic smile.
“Go back to sleep, Doll. I turned the volume down. You can rest.”
With another soft smile you snuggled back up to him, your cheek smushed against the cool vibranium of his left arm and your hand once more holding onto his biceps. It was a few seconds later that you realised you were holding onto his left arm and you tilted your head up to look at Bucky. When he saw your head turning he examined your face, taking in your thoughtful expression.
“What are you thinking about, Doll?”
“I’m leaning against your left arm.” You whispered, running a finger up the biceps of said arm. “Is this really alright for you? As I said, I’m not afraid of you hurting me and I trust you completely, but I know that you don’t really like touching me with it and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“You were right, earlier in the van.” He said softly, eyes flicking to the window so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact. “Had it not been for my vibranium arm, you might not be here right now. And it made me think about all the things you’ve said about the arm beforehand.”
“How so?”
“The arm was meant to be a weapon, the one from Hydra most definitely, and even the one I got in Wakanda had the potential to be used as one. But you were right about it not being used as one anymore, or at least not outside of fighting bad guys.” Bucky concluded, eyes flickering to your face once before focusing back on the window. “It helped me save you and it helped me save many others before.”
“I’m glad you’re starting to see your arm as something other than a weapon.”
Bucky turned back to look at you before resting his cheek against your head. “It’s something that’s been ingrained in my brain for a long time, though, so please give me time, and don’t be upset if I’m ever withdrawing from you or afraid to touch you.”
“I would never be upset with you for that, James. Why would you even think that?”
“Because you always get so sad when I talk negatively about myself or the arm.”
“That’s not because I’m upset with you. I understand that it’s hard to see a part of yourself that others have misused as a weapon as anything but that. When you say things like that it makes me hurt for you.” You explained softly, bringing a hand up to cup the cheek that wasn’t smushed against your head. “And I know you don’t like people pitying you but that’s not what I’m doing. I love you and I hate seeing you in any sort of distress.”
“I’m doing much better now.” Bucky promised quietly. “I mean, I’m far from fine and I still have nightmares and fears and the like, but I’m so much better than I was before and I will get better in the future. So please don’t worry about me too much, Doll.”
“James, take one look at me and tell me that you think I’d be able to not worry about you.” You joked, earning a small laugh from him. “You know me too well for that.”
Smirking a little at your joke, Bucky reached out to turn the movie off and flicked the switch on the bedside lamp. “Still, please try not to be too concerned. You’re helping me an awful lot, I hope you know that.”
“And I hope you know that every step you take in your recovery, no matter how small it might seem, is something you can be proud of. I’m proud of you for how far you’ve come.” You closed your eyes then, cuddling up to him. “And I trust you with all my heart.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. That’s on you for being trustworthy.” You whispered. “But is it physically uncomfortable to keep the arm on while sleeping?”
“No, with the new one, it’s not. The old metal one was heavier and could get uncomfortable but this one is fine.” Bucky said with a smile before kissing your head as you snuggled closer to his side, your head moving to rest on the junction between his vibranium arm and his shoulder, allowing him to wrap his left arm around you. “Thank you for everything, Love. I love you so much.”
“Right back at you, Sweetheart. I love you just as much.”
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