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winterarmyy · 9 months

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Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

"...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

#winterarmyyfics #welcome home soldat au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier × reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier!bucky #bucky fluff

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lazycats-stuff · 2 months

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Please write Damian x friend reader who's really shy, and they have to make a school project together, and they do so at the manor, but because the reader is shy he doesn't want to meet the family. The family (to annoy damian) want to meet this friends, but Damian actually likes the reader and tries to protect him from his brother's

Hell yes. Oh I love this. The fam would do this. Alfred would be stopping them. I don't know why, but this gif is really adorable to me.

Summary: Damian has a crush and the boys decide to annoy them

Warnings: fluff, angst?, Damian comes out to Bruce and Alfred, shy reader... Mostly fluff though.

Damian Wayne, the son of Batman has a crush on his classmate. Yes, you read it correctly. Damian has a crush on (Y/N) (L/N), a shy boy in his class. Damian thought he was adorable and his shyness made him even more cute to Damian, but Damian knew for a fact that he didn't have a chance with (Y/N).

Anyone who dates a Wayne, will be in the spotlight. And being in high school doesn't make it any better. The pressures and the fact that the girls and some guys were throwing themselves at him and for that, he only got his reputation as cold, not interested in anyone.

That made it much more difficult to even think about approaching (Y/N).

And the fact he was suffering alone made it painful. He didn't tell his family, knowing that they would push him to talk to him, but they wouldn't understand the situation that Damian is in. For Damian, (Y/N) is something that is both within his reach and yet so far, far away.

Damian has come to terms with the fact that he will never be able to be with (Y/N). If only he knew about (Y/N)'s feelings...

But fate has some other plans. During a biology class, the teacher announced that he will pair the kids to make a project. Damian dreaded it because there are two bad outcomes that could come out of it.

One is that he ends up with a person who wouldn't do anything and would just use it for bragging rights and would annoy him to no end. It would be awful and Damian would have to control himself to not kill someone and not to cause a scene.

And the second one is the fact that there is a chance that he will be paired up with (Y/N). That wasn't bad per say, not at all, not by any means. But... The mere fact that he would be paired with his crush wouldn't be easy, not even for Damian. He may have a lot self control, but with (Y/N)...

Damian remained calm when he was paired with (Y/N). Only externally. Internally? He was screaming. How does he even approach him? How in the hell? Okay... Try to be nice...

Damian rubbed his lips, trying to remain calm and devise a plan. Approach him when everyone leaves the classroom. Then tell him and give him phone number so they can contact one another... Okay... That's the first two steps.

Wait... What about his family? Oh no... Well, that's a thing to worry about later.

Damian took a deep breath as he approached (Y/N). (Y/N) blushed already and look at Damian with an uneasy smile. " Hi Damian. "

" Hey (Y/N). Can you give me your number so that I can text you the time and we can contact each other. " Damian said as he took his phone out, allowing (Y/N) to put his phone number in. (Y/N) did just that, ever so nervously.

Damian watched in silence, waiting patiently. After that, (Y/N) quietly mumbled see you later and left. Damian followed him, but in a much slower pace. He walked to his own locker, getting his stuff and leaving the school quickly, going to the car to let Alfred drive him away.

During the drive, Alfred noticed that Damian was bothered by something, but he knew that asking was going to be like pulling teeth. Painful and no one would even bother to do it, but Damian wasn't an average person nor a child.

So all in all, it will be a painful conversation, no matter how they turn it.

" Damian, can we talk? " Bruce asked as he sat down next to him on the couch, Alfred setting down the tea for the three of them.

" About what? " Damian asked as he put a book down on the coffee table. Bruce and Alfred got ready for this. Alfred sat down next to Damian, but not too close, just keeping some space in between the two.

" Something is bothering you and we want to know what's going on. " Bruce has started gently and Damian's internal guard went up quickly. They clearly don't know what, but... How will his father react about hearing that he is gay? Oh God...

" Nothing is bothering me. " Damian lied quickly, but Bruce saw right through it.

" You can always talk to us Damian.. You can always come to me, I will never judge you. " Bruce said softly and Damian had to take a very deep breath to stay calm...

Is he really going to come out now?

" It's... " Damian started, clearly out of his comfort zone. " I have a crush... "

Bruce and Alfred smiled. Damian is in love. " And what's her name? " Alfred asked.

And here it is.

" It's his. It's (Y/N). " Damian said quietly, getting ready for rejection.

There was silence for a couple of moments before Bruce hugged Damian tightly. Damian was shocked at that, more so when Alfred hugged him too, but he didn't question it by any means. He hugged Bruce back tightly.

" Please don't tell me that you think we were going to reject you master Damian. " Alfred said from behind, still hugging his grandson.

" Oh Damian... " Bruce said quietly, making sure to squeeze Damian tightly. " I would never judge you for being gay. You are my son and I won't love you any less. " Bruce says softly, rocking his son a bit to calm him down.

Damian nodded, hiding his face, not wanting these tears to fall down. He didn't want them to be seen.

And the time has finally come. (Y/N) has arrived into the manor and Bruce made sure to tell his other sons to stay clear and away from the library today. He said a few warnings and the other three seemed to listen.

Again, seemed.

The project was going well. Damian has been calmer and (Y/N) has been quiet, but was working hard to make it the best project ever. Damian was impressed by that and more impressed that his brother's weren't bothering him or (Y/N). But there was a bad feeling in the back of Damian's mind.

Something was going to happen.

And Damian isn't liking this at all.

And he was right. After an hour, Jason popped his head in. Damian whipped his head around so quickly that (Y/N) thought he got whiplash. (Y/N) blushed slightly at the sight of Jason who had a smirk on his face.

Damian got up quickly. No. This is not going to happen.

" Out Todd. " Damian said as he walked up to him and started pushing him out.

" Oh come on, I just want to meet you frie-" Jason was cut off with the door slamming in his face. He smirked at the sight of the barely controlled anger from Damian.

Oh he loves to push those buttons.

Damian took a deep breath and turned to (Y/N) with a small smile. " My apologies (Y/N), Todd is annoying and he loves to push my buttons. " Damian said as he sat back down and (Y/N) nodded with a small smile.

" It's okay, siblings are annoying. " (Y/N) said quietly.

" Do you have one? " Damian asked as he moved a notebook out of the way.

" A single child, I'm afraid. " (Y/N) said and Damian nodded.

And everything was fine. Until one hour later.

Now Tim popped his head in and Damian was going to kill him.

" Out Drake. " Damian said as he quickly stood up and started pushing him out, still calm, trying to not scare (Y/N), who just watched in silence and wonder.

" Oh Damian, " Tim started, but Damian just threw him out and slammed the door. (Y/N) raised his brow, curious, but to hesitant to ask.

" Again, my apologies, they are just annoying. " Damian said yet again and sat back down, getting focused to continue working on the project.

The silence was nice and comfortable and the library was just peaceful.

That was until the doors opened for the 3rd time and Damian stood up quickly, pushing out Dick into the hallway, closing the door.

" What the hell is wrong with you three?! " Damian whispered yelled and Dick sheepishly smiled.

" I just wanted to check on you two, to see if you need any help. " Dick said quietly.

" Sure. Make sure that these two don't come by again. " Damian said coldly and went back inside, clearly annoyed, trying to calm himself. But the moment he set his eyes on (Y/N), he was calmer and less annoyed.

" Sorry, another brother is annoying today. " Damian said, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm down.

" Are they always like this? " (Y/N) asked softly and Damian nodded.

" I'm afraid so. " Damian said, glaring at the door for a second before he focused back onto the project.

After some times, they have actually managed to finish it. Damian was happy, but then this means that hanging out with (Y/N) is over. After this, they probably won't ever talk.

But Damian just couldn't let it go. He had to confess.

He had to.

But is he brave enough? Maybe.

" (Y/N)? Before you go, I need to tell you something. " Damian said once they were outside.

(Y/N) nodded and waited for Damian to speak.

" I... I like you. A lot... And... You are allow to say no, but do you want to go out with me? " Damian asked softly.

(Y/N) was outright speechless. Damian felt the same way? This had to be a dream...

" I would love to. " (Y/N) said, blushing like mad and rubbing the back of his neck.

" I'll text you the plans later. We can go tomorrow. " Damian said and Alfred got the car ready to drive (Y/N) back to his home. After (Y/N) and Alfred left, Damian slowly turned to his brothers who were eaves dropping.

" You 3 have 5 seconds to run before I get you. " Damian said coldly and the three quickly ran. Damian chased after Jason.

Bruce simply sipped his coffee. It's not worth his nerves. Or annoyance. Or even the agitation.

Bruce sigh. Just let it be.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 month

Text

Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it.

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack.

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s.

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun.

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best.

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening.

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him.

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins.

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no.

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction

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daddyfordaeddy · 26 days

Text

Pairing: mafia! Seongjoong x f! yn

Word Count: 3517

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, minor injuries, slight possessive/yandere joong (not super noticeable), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Fluff, smut, mafia au, exes to lovers, M for mature audiences

Summary: After leaving the mafia scene for five years, you've had to go back and beg for help from the boss of your former family...and your ex.

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), some praise, degredation, spitroasting, oral (m & f receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, creampie, fingering, felching (again), squirting, one spank, dom/sub (seongjoong dom, yn sub), undernegotiated kinks (its been a while since they fucked so things may have changed but they don't discuss. don't do this)

Written for tipsy drabbles! took me like 3 days to write the smut itself lmao

“So. You’ve found your way back to me, begging for me.” You keep your eyes lowered, not afraid but too ashamed to look Hongjoong in the eyes. You haven’t seen the head of the MATZ gang in a long time. Not since the last boss was alive and he was just a capo in his own right. Not since you had left him standing in the hall of his mansion, citing immaturity when it was just your fears of commitment to a mafia member. You know you broke his heart, but he stitched it back up quickly, yelling after you that if you ever came back he wouldn’t help you.

And yet, how the tables have turned.

“I had…I had nowhere else to go. Turn me away if you wish, but hear me out first. Please, Hongjoong.” You keep your gaze focused on your ratty sneakers, a far cry from the Louboutins you used to wear.

“Look at me first.” You freeze. From his tone of voice, you know he knows why you’re here. “I won’t repeat myself, YN.”

Slowly, you bring your head up, wincing at the sharp pain in your throbbing head from the sudden movement. You’re sure you look a mess, with the black eye and split lip. You keep your line of sight trained on the window next to Hongjoong instead of his face, but you can’t miss the way his eyes darken at the sight of you broken in front of him.

“What. Happened.”

His voice is cold and you flinch, hands wringing behind your back as you refuse to break down in front of your first lover (and if you stop lying to yourself, he still is in your heart). “...It was Yang Beomhun. I left you but he tracked me down and thought he could use me as leverage against you. It didn’t work, but at that point, he decided he might as well keep me around for himself and the pretence he had put up dropped. I…don’t know what else to do.”

It was a miracle you were even let back into his mansion. You thought you would have to live a life of suffering with Beomhun as your tormentor, but one of the family had somehow recognised you and let you in, citing it to be some sick joke.

And maybe it was. Who leaves the mafia out of fear for their future, only to end up being run ragged by the justice system? It’s ironic, ending right back up where you left, but once again, you have nothing left to lose.

“Why don’t you just leave him? You clearly are able to.”

You choose to ignore the jibe. “I couldn't. I’ve tried. It was a miracle I made it here, and that was with the help of someone who likely has gotten into deeper trouble.” You can feel your body shaking with the effort to keep your cool. “I don’t know what to tell you. Give me a new life, or just fucking kill me, Hongjoong. I don’t want to be caught in the middle again. I left to avoid the danger but no matter what I do, all I get is the same thing.”

Silence settles over the both of you. It’s only a moment later you realise you finally admitted the real reason you left. Your head shifts lower and you squeeze your eyes shut, both from embarrassment and trying to keep yourself on your feet.

After a long breath, you feel slender fingers on your chin that tip your face up. Blearily, you blink your eyes open to see Hongjoong staring down at you, eyes hiding any emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is soft, softer than you’ve heard in a long time. “I would’ve protected you, given you the safest life I could.”

“I…back then I didn’t want that, Joong. I just wanted a normal life. Not a safe one.” Your eyes are fighting to stay open.

“And now? What do you want?” You open your mouth to speak, but instead, your legs give out and Hongjoong drops to keep you from cracking your head on the wooden floor. “YN, wait–”

When you reawaken, you’re in an intricate bedroom you remember as the one you stayed in when you and Hongjoong were still dating. It’s changed quite a bit, his bookshelves cleared and the desk is gone, but otherwise, the drapes remain the same, and the carpet and plants as well. Your body aches but your mind is refreshed, the exhaustion from yesterday gone.

You can feel a heavy weight on the left side of the bed and your heart softens at the sight of Hongjoong sitting beside you, head in his arms as he rests his torso on the bed. As much as you hate to admit it, you missed him every moment you were gone. But you hurt him irrevocably and you know there’s not much you can do to win him back.

Your hand reaches up involuntarily, just about to brush through his platinum blond locks when his head snaps up. Your hand jerks back although his eyes are still closed. “You’re up,” he hums, eyes slowly blinking open. “The medic said you were just exhausted, but I’m glad to see you’re up.”

You stare at him, brows furrowed. “Why are you glad? I hurt you. I don’t deserve your worry.”

Hongjoong’s brow raises. “I don’t think you get to decide who I get to worry about. Yes, you hurt me. But we were young and dumb. We were hardly adults, thrust into a dangerous situation. And I would be lying to say I didn’t miss you, rosebud.”

Your face flushes at the nickname you hadn’t heard in years and Hongjoong smiles at the sight of it. He shifts over, leaning in to brush his nose against yours when the door slams open. “Boss, Seonghwa’s back.”

Your brows furrow. “Seonghwa?” The name escapes your lips before you can catch it and Hongjoong’s eyes narrow to level a sharp gaze at you.

“You met him?” His question is light but there’s danger behind it.

“Yes—He’s the one that helped me escape Beomhun. He was new on the task force, but he saw how Beomhun treated me and was the only one who cared to help me.” You speak quickly, trying to ease the tension lurking in Hongjoong’s eyes. “I swear on my life, Joong. He’s done nothing wrong except help me.”

Hongjoong stares at you for a long moment before he stands quickly, smoothing down his suit. “YN, come. Let’s see this Seonghwa for ourselves.”

Before you can even say anything, he grabs your wrist, pulling you along. You don’t know how to react, much less if you should react, and the entire way down to the basement is silent. You come to a stop behind a glass window, two-way if you remember correctly, and you stare at the slender figure sitting at the table, with sharp eyes and a split lip. “That’s him,” you breathe out.

Hongjoong hums. “Aww, he came all this way to see if you were alive? How sweet. Why don’t you go and show him how much you appreciate him? After all the work I put him to to keep you safe?” His hand pushes at your side a little and you snap your head towards him.

“Joong–” you gasp in shock and confusion.

Hongjoong turned to stare you down. “What? You think I would actually just let you go like that, five years ago? You’re mine, and you’d do well to remember that.” He chuckles low in his throat, his lips pulling into a shark’s smile. “Seonghwa here is my underboss. I trust him the most when it comes to my personal affairs, and I think he deserves a reward for the work he’s done. Come on, baby, why don’t you show him how good you can be?”

Before you can say anything else, he swings the door open and pulls you through. “Hwa, say ‘hi’ to my little rosebud. She’s here to give you a little treat for protecting her.”

He pushes you forward again and you stumble on your feet until large, warm hands land on your waist as you stop between Seonghwa’s open thighs. “Aren’t you just precious, huh,” he groans, pressing his thumbs into your hip bones. “Little missy is just too worried about me, is that right, baby?”

You cast a glance back at Hongjoong, where he’s taken a seat from across the room and is palming at the growing bulge in his pants. Without even thinking about it, your thighs squeeze together and you flush. “Joong–” Back when you were still with him, the two of you would find newcomers to fuck, some kind of sick power play Joong got off on. It’s somewhat comforting to see not much has changed in that regard…and it makes heat bloom in your core.

Seonghwa’s hand gripping your chin directs your gaze to his dark eyes. “Come on, miss, I went to all that work keeping you safe, don’t you want to show your appreciation?” He arches a perfect brow and you swear the expression on his face only serves to make your face even hotter.

“Show him how good you can be, YN,” Hongjoong commands from behind you, his voice heavy. And, well, who are you to disobey him? Immediately, you drop to your knees, your habits from years back still ingrained into your brain.

Seonghwa chuckles, his fingers combing through your hair slowly as he palms his cock straining against his leather pants. “Come on, princess. Show me how good those pretty lips are.”

You don’t need much more prompting than that, quickly reaching forward to undo his belt and slide his zipper down. With a groan, Seonghwa lifts his hips enough for you to shove his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. The tip of it is an angry red, dripping pre-come and your eyes zero in on it.

Seonghwa places his hand on the top of your head, and you don’t need much more prompting before dipping down and pressing a kiss to the tip. You can hear him sigh and it's enough to make you sink down to envelop the head of it in your mouth, letting spit pool around it. Any other day you’d be in the mood to tease, but with Hongjoong watching all you want is to be good.

“Shit, her mouth is so good,” Seonghwa groans, his thighs straining as his hands tighten in your hair. “So perfectly willing to be used.”

You feel another spike of heat in your core as you clench around nothing at his words. The way he doesn’t even direct it at you, only at Hongjoong turns you on more than you’d like to admit it would. “You can be rougher with her, she likes it,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through the fog slowly encapsulating your mind.

Without hesitation, Seonghwa pushes your head down even further and you gag, eyes rolling back at the rough treatment. “Holy shit, she’s into it.” There’s absolute glee in Seonghwa’s voice, and his hips give an experimental thrust. You moan around his thick length, eyes squeezing shut as your spit dribbles down his length. Any shame you feel dissolves into arousal and you can’t help but wriggle your hips, trying to get any sort of friction.

“Look at you, so needy for anything.” Hongjoong’s voice is closer than you remember, and you flinch when you feel his cool hands on your shoulders. They trail down, patting your ass before reaching to cup you through your pants. “Come on, hands and knees for me, okay?”

It takes you a moment to respond, but when Hongjoong paps you on your cunt again, you scramble to present your ass to him while still keeping Seonghwa in your mouth. You can hear both of them chuckle at your eagerness. “She’s such a perfect slut, Joong,” the bite in Seonghwa’s voice makes you whine low in your throat. “So happy to just take cock and sit still, all pretty for us.”

Hongjoong hums as he pulls down your pants and underwear in one swift moment, pressing his fingers against your sopping pussy. “She’s so wet, truly the perfect whore for us,” he sighs, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. His movements are fast, precise, and more slick gushes out of you as you keep moaning around Seonghwa’s cock.

Before you can grind against his hand, his fingers disappear just as fast as they entered you and you whine, feeling much too empty. “Eager or not, bitches should learn patience,” Hongjoong sneers and a smack resounds in the room. You register the stinging pain on your ass a second later and you moan, the sound of it muffled.

Your eyes tear up from the pain and Seonghwa coos, his long fingers brushing away the tears. You lean into the comfort subconsciously but as you do so, you can feel the blunt head of Hongjoong’s cock rubbing against your folds and the slick sounds make your brain fuzzy. The tip of it repeatedly catches on your clit and each time it sends a shock to your core.

Before you can whine any more, Hongjoong lines his cock up to your cole and pushes in without any warning. Your eyes snap open as your body is pushed forward and Seonghwa’s cock is driven deeper into your mouth. “Shit–” Seonghwa groans, his other hand coming down to grip your hair and keep your head in place.

Hongjoong giggles from behind you before drawing back and slamming back in again. The force of his thrust spears him so perfectly inside you, the girth of his cock stretching you open so well. He didn’t prep you well enough, but the sting makes you even wetter. It’s been years, and he still knows exactly what you like and it makes both your heart and your cunt throb. Seonghwa’s cock is longer, but the stretch of Hongjoong is just what you like and you clench around him.

“God, after all this time, you still are so fucking tight. Maybe I didn’t fuck you well enough before,” Hongjoong leans down to whisper in your ear, his weight pushing you impossibly further onto Seonghwa’s dick. “Maybe I’ll let Seonghwa fuck you too until your pussy is nice and sloppy for me to take any time I want. You may be mine, but Seonghwa is too and it would be cruel of me to not let my two playthings have their own fun.”

You’re a little ashamed to admit the idea of that makes you moan, and Hongjoong presses a kiss to your shoulder before biting the flesh, his hips starting to jackhammer into you, setting an unforgiving pace.

Your body goes lip, Hongjoong’s arms around your waist and Seonghwa’s hands in your hair the only thing keeping you up. You really do feel like a doll used only for their enjoyment but something about it is perfect and you keep your mouth slack as your eyes roll back in your head. Your cunt is throbbing, pulsing around Hongjoong as he hits the spongy spot inside of you with surprising accuracy. Seonghwa’s started thrusting into your mouth as well, your jaw aching but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You can hear them speaking to each other above you but you’re too far gone to make sense of anything they’re saying, letting your eyes flutter shut as the two men on either side pound into you. But before you can say or do anything, Seonghwa comes, ropes of his come shooting down your throat without you needing to swallow. As his orgasm washes over him, he pulls his cock out, moving one of his hands to your jaw and squeezing, keeping your mouth open and pliant. The tip of his dick rests against your lower lip as drops of come land in your mouth and dribble down your lips. When his cock softens, he tucks himself back in and leans down to spit in your mouth.

“Swallow.” His voice is rough and heavy, and you follow his command immediately. You don’t even notice Hongjoong stilled his hips until a moment later and you whine.

“So greedy,” Hongjoong scoffs, his hands gripping your waist and his nails digging into the skin. Without warning, he pulls you back down on his cock and you moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream. “Your cunt is swallowing me so well, baby. I could do this for hours and I bet you’d just let it happen. God, I can’t believe I let you go last time, no one else could be such a perfect little cumdump for me.”

He punctuates each other with another thrust until he’s groaning as he reaches the edge of his pleasure, his come shooting deep into you and coating your walls. “God, she’s taking you so well,” Seonghwa hums, brushing your hair out of your eyes, the gentleness of his actions the complete opposite of how he was treating your mouth not a minute earlier.

Hongjoong laughs, pulling out his cock to see his come dripping out of you and making a little pool on the floor. His arms release you and you collapse onto the cool tile, your body shuddering. “She’s good, isn’t she,” he says fondly, his hands coming to pull apart your cheeks, admiring the sight of your hole fluttering around nothing. “She hadn’t even come after that. Would you like to reward this good behaviour, Hwa?”

A chuckle leaves Seonghwa as he moves around to settle in between your legs. You’re too tired to shift to see what they’re doing and you gasp as a flat tongue presses against your dripping hole. Your back arches and Hongjoong chuckles, pressing down on your shoulders to shove you further onto the tile.

Your thighs are shaking from the effort of keeping your hips up, but Seonghwa’s grip doesn’t relent as he licks into you like a starved man, tasting both your slick and Hongjoong’s come. The way it flicks your clit and it doesn’t take long for you to come apart on the title, moans spilling out of your mouth easily as you feel a great pressure on your core and your body shakes from the effort of it. You can hear the sloppy, wet sounds of Seonghwa licking up your release and even when you try to clench around his tongue you just know with how loose you are it doesn’t change much.

“Fuck, I didn’t know she squirts,” you hear the awe in Seonghwa’s voice and Hongjoong hums, please.

“Like I said, she’s really the perfect slut.” Hongjoong pats your head, but the praise doesn’t really register, your mind is all fuzzy from the fucking you just received, and all you do is yawn. You hear soft laughter from the two of them and Hongjoong pulls you into his arms as he kisses the top of your head. “All right, I get it. You can sleep, baby. We’ll clean you up. Just relax.”

At his sweet words, you let your head drop to his shoulder as you let him manoeuvre you so he can pick you up to bring you to a bath. You’re happy to be back.

As Hongjoong tucks you into bed, Seonghwa leans against the doorframe, waiting for you to finally drift off. As soon as your breathing levels, Seonghwa moves to stand by Hongjoong sitting on the bed, and he speaks up. “Beomhun asked for his money.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t get it. He broke the rules of the deal and laid his hands on my girl. The agreement was for him to scare her, not fucking hurt her.”

Seonghwa nods. “I know. He has been taken care of. Jongho and Yunho are happy to have been promoted, and I’m sure they’ll bring flowers to the funeral.”

Hongjoong chuckles, low in his throat to keep you from waking. “Good, good. It’ll be good to have some of our men higher in the police force too. Beomhun’s death was needed. But make sure she never finds out.” Seonghwa nods. “Can you go get a report from Yunho?”

Another nod. “I’ll see you later,” Seonghwa says, patting Hongjoong on the shoulder. “We’re still on for dinner, right?”

Hongjoong smiles. “Of course. Come here.” Seonghwa moves to stand between Hongjoong’s legs, much like how you did with him down in the basement. Without another word, Hongjoong pulls Seonghwa down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I’m happy to have both of you back. I’ll see you later tonight. Maybe YN will be awake for dinner as well.”

Seonghwa flushes red before kissing Hongjoong once more before slipping out the door. Hongjoong turns his attention back to you, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re back now, and I intend to keep it this way. No running away from me anymore,” he whispers, his fingers trailing down your face to ghost over your lips. “You’re mine, rosebud.”

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #pirateeznet #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfiction #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #smut

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angelltheninth · 9 months

Note

I'm a sucker for a good rivals who fuck trope. Can you write that with Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Chide, Dottore and Arlecchino?

A good trope and you have good taste in evil women. You have my respect Anon.

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Dottore, Arlecchino x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rivals to lovers, angry sex, hate sex, making out, rough sex, biting, marking

A/N: I don't get to write about Arlecchino often, unless its Arlebina content lol.

Kaeya hates having to work with you but it's part of his job so he'll tolerate it. Your only saving grace is that you're really nice to look at and banter with when he needs to let out some steam. He would never admit this but he loves it when you fire back at him, when you push against his orders and challenge him, when you refuse to call him Captain because you think you can do a better job. With that kind of attitude it's easy to see why you're such a fun time in bed, you refuse to be on your back for him, you refuse to admit his cock is better then anyone else's, so he has to prove it by making you have a nearly endless string of orgasms.

Diluc sees you every night on patrol and every night it's the same race to the crime scene, the banter and the bickering that only stops when you're fighting the bad guys or when you're pulling each other's pants and underwear off in a dark alleyway. You don't know each other's real names yet you both want to moan them as you ride his cock, your hands in his hair, daring him to slip up and reveal himself to you. Do you take him for an amateur who would give it all up for a cunt around his dick? Fuck you. No, he will fuck you, until you can't stand and you finally admit that he's the better hero, that's he's finally beaten you. Never mind the fact that in the thorns of your orgasm he thinks he almost hears his name, only to be met with a sharp pain from your teeth biting against his shoulder.

Itto loves getting on your nerves like no one else. One of his favorite things to do is to make you angry. Why? Because sex is so much fun that way. He will never walk up to you and kiss you, or tell you he wants to fuck, no he will do everything in his power to rile you up until you're fuming and then he will kindly offer to fuck that anger out. You know what he's doing, you've known for a long time but you can't resist that huge cock of his, or that shining smile if you were honest. Just when he thinks he's got you submitted to him, on your back for him you'll pull him down, ask him if that's all he's got? If you don't leave this fucking session marked up by him then he's starting to slip up. Him? Itto? Never. You want marks? He'll give them to you, all over your body.

Childe has been your rival for as long as you could remember being part of the Fatui. Since day one you've butted heads with him and his stubborn ways. It's like he's always looking for a fight, regardless if he can win it. You're more then happy to spar with him and teach him some humility. Although lately all your sparing sessions end up the same, with a bet, and the loser giving the winner what they want. It's always the same thing. Sex. Hot, dirty, rough sex to release the adrenaline of the earlier fight. Even the sex is a competition with him, who will come first, who will give who more orgasms, who will hold out the longest without moaning the other's name. It's all a competition, and you're both winners.

Dottore ignores you for the most part when he's not fucking you because quite frankly he doesn't think you're worth wasting his precious time on. He's so arrogant and acts so high and mighty that you can't help but shove all your research in his face. The only indicator that he thinks it's impressive is him fucking you after reading it. It's infuriating that you can never get him to admit when he's impressed by your own genius. But his cock is the next best thing, that and the angry kisses you pull him in every time he starts to monologue about how great his new discovery was while completely ignoring yours.

Arlecchino only talks to you if she needs you to do something for her. Otherwise she would be perfectly happy never seeing you. Yeah, she doesn't need you around if you're not useful. It's adorable that you think that you're more important then her. A lowrank like you. No matter what you achieve you'll only ever be good on your knees and you know it. See, this is why she doesn't like working with you, you're so confrontational when all she wants is some obedience. But she has her ways of making you submit. You're the whole reason why she's almost always packing that strap-on in her pants, you and that sweet pussy of yours, in need of showing it who is really in charge.

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biribaa · 6 months

Note

I saw you were taking requests for The Amazing Digital Circus, so if you want can you please write Headcannons for Kinger, Caine, and a character of your choice x a reader who’s abstracting in front of them

Also remember to drink lots of water and to take breaks!

-🧪Anon

Kinger, Caine and Ragatha x reader who's abstracting in front of them

I appreciate your kindness but I'm a computer, I think water is one of the things I need to "drink" less and prevent more.

TW/CW: AHH... Spoilers, also angst. Reader does get abstracted in all scenarios cuz we still dont rlly know if someone can be saved from getting abstracted

Kinger

Imagine lost your partners TWICE. Lolololol loser/J

Everything seems to occur in slow motion from Kinger's point of view, a heart he once had is somehow beating against his body. He prays to any god on this earth, be it real or not, or even Caine maybe, that this nightmare isn't happening again to him. Please, everyone, but not you.

Kinger tries to do everything so his lover don't reach the great peak of their insanity, even though he's not very good at it, knowing his personality. But trust me when I said, he tried. Who cares if he will get all glitched for touching your form, he needs you.

He never thought he would live another nightmare inside a nightmare. And in seconds that felt like painful hours to Kinger, here "you" are, a noisy form covered in eyes that flash in different colors. Your skin (if we can call it skin) moves abruptly as if it were a bag full of enraged cats. And, god, how he wished it was him instead.

Things are resolved by the talking human jaw, and yet the silence in Kinger's little pillow fort is no longer comforting as it once was. Silence now makes the small chess piece itch in agony. Silence that could be enjoyed with your presence, with holding your hand or dancing with you, and chat about random stuff he and you knows. The feeling of missing someone is familiar to him, and yet, it hits him in ways that his years in this circus haven't hit him.

Caine

While Kinger tries to do everything, Caine actually does anything to try saving your corrupted mind, and the lack of power in this situation leaves the digital being in panic. A simple snap of the fingers is not enough, and this information makes him tremble in ways he never thought he would tremble before for a simple human.

You aren't just any character, you are his favorite, the lil' buddy he spoils every hour and that always push a giggle from him. You were his very own star. The show could continue the same without you, Caine was sure of it, but could he? Without a character as entertaining as you in action?

"Of course I can fix them, I am Caine!" It's a phrase that was repeated several times in the presenter's programming, But with every grunt coming from the thing that once was you, it's just a reminder to Caine that he did a horrible job trying to take care of you. There were other characters that were abstracted of course, but... You were special to him. His favorite star. His star.

Caine even feels hesitant to put you in the hole of other characters who were abstract before. He preferred to keep you in a cage away from other people's contact, with no one hurting you and no one hurting you.

He knows, he knows the painful truth that you cannot be considered a sapient being, but even though you are a trace of what you once were, Caine doesn't have the courage to lose you forever.

With the other characters, Caine will act normally, with his loud and lively personality. Only if they analyze Caine close enough, the characters would notice something wrong with him.

And then, sometimes, he just stares at you in the cage. Caine ponders if he should admit the lost of his favorite star, it would be easier, but the pride in his chest screams that there must be some way that he could actually save you from...this.

Ragatha

Somehow, the scene is all silent for her. Ragatha stares at you as if the impossible itself is happening in front of her.

Ragatha holds your hands about to disappear, she caressed what was left from your shoulders, she hurriedly whispers words that would normally calm you down, but nothing can save you from the fate of your sanity, just leaving her with the pain of being glitched.

Of course, she had her other friends like Pomni, but lost you?!

Ragatha thinks she saw everything during her new experience in the digital circus, but something common like losing someone so important was the end of the line for her. You were her darling, her sunshine and her little everything even.

Everything she did sounded slightly more boring and boring without your presence, and Ragatha could do nothing about it. She continues (at least tries) to remain strong after that, still trying to complete the little adventures that Caine gives to the participants. But Ragatha's slow pace and lack of smiles was very noticeable.

The weight on Ragatha's chest is too much, losing someone so sweet and perfect for her in such a horrible way is too much. And the worst part is that Ragatha believes that she could have done something to save you, she could have been with you more often so that your mind didn't fall apart like this. But now, she can do nothing but mourn.

#x reader #canon x reader #reader insert #tadc x reader #tadc ragatha x reader #tadc caine x reader #tadc kinger x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

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nctstar · 3 months

Text

poly! nct 127 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ threesome ver.

hard dom members x sub reader

pairing: nct 127 x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

genre: smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni! everything is consensual, hard dom members, heavy degradation and bsdm content (don't read if triggering), safeword discussed, oral (male and female receiving), rough penetrative sex (unprotected, please be safe irl), manhandling, hair pulling, painplay + impact play (whipping), face slapping + spanking, squirting, fingering, clitoral stimulation, double penetration (same hole), a lot of crying, begging, sexual punishment, daddy kink, kissing, anal (female receiving), multiple orgasms + overstimulation, intense orgasms, mentioning ex during sex, handjob, hand over mouth (female receiving), profanity, (everything is really messy idk how to write this so you hopefully get what i mean)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. everything is consensual and safewords/limits have been discussed prior to the scene - sex is only sex when it's fun for both parties, please keep this in mind <3

a/n: so um...here's this. I was running on matcha coffee 3 hours of sleep and 2 episodes of pretty little liars all before 9am yesterday when something in my body just felt COMPELLED to write this, so here it is :D also labyrinth ch 2 is COMINGG i just need time to write it in a good way, but i've planned the entire thing and am excited to see how it ends up. also, i've decided to make poly! nct a series, not quite sure if i'll keep the same pairings or how this will work but it won't only be smut, i plan to write lots of different types of scenarios for them. anyways, love you, bye for now xx

Mark & Taeyong ~ Thighs slipping against each other, water dripping down to your ankles as you stumbled towards Taeyong’s parted legs. “Bend over.” He commanded, but you felt the shove before you could, pushing you forward with a gasp. Mark’s open hand now pressing down on the shallow bend of your back, he toyed with the strings of your bikini bottom, chuckling darkly at your every whine. Taeyong grabbed your chin roughly, forcing your face inches away from his. You winched as his grip tightened, hard enough to leave bruises. “Fucking slut.” Your heart hammered as you felt the cold air hit your now bare core and ass, Mark squeezing the plush of your behind as he groaned in pleasure. “Fuck, she’s so sexy.” He drawled. The panic began to quicken, pouring down your veins like ice water when you felt the wood-hard bulb of his dick press against your exposed hole. Eyes watering, you begged, not quite sure what you were begging for. “Please, please, p-please…” Mark slapped your ass in response, the tears now rolling down your cheeks as you cried out. Your vision whitened, side of your face stinging as Taeyong slapped you, twice, the edges of his ring marking a spot underneath your cheekbones. “Bend the fuck over. All the way.” You nodded as you cried, shutting your eyes as you held your ankles and let your head hang down, the blood rush making you delirious.

The pain and pleasure made your legs tremble, losing control of your body, gripping until you felt the bony edges of your ankles, moans ripping themselves from your throat as Mark bottomed out. “So big, please…” You gasped, as if his cock choked you from the inside. You babbled apologies, shaking your head when you heard the sound of Taeyong’s zipper above Mark’s sloppy thrusts. “Please, n-no…no more, I can-nghh,” you trailed off, feeling your own release grease your inner thighs, shame pooling in the bottom of your stomach. “We’re not done here, slut. No safe word means you still want this. Stupid whore.” Taeyong groaned as he pumped himself to his full hardness, watching you shakily squat down to the cold tiles, listening for any signs of protest. You stayed quiet, heaving, a sudden urge to let go as your head throbbed from your last orgasm. You felt Mark wrap one arm around your lower stomach, pressing down hard and lifting you off the ground. You squealed, trying to push his arm away, the muscles bulging underneath his skin. “You’re too rough with m-me…” Your knees hit the cold tiles as Taeyong pushed his length into your mouth, another hand holding you in place and gripping your hair tight. “Can you cum like this? Hmm?” Your head spun, pussy throbbing from the humiliation, Mark’s legs now caging your body as you stared up at Taeyong, cock bruising the back of your throat. Your pleas were lost around his length as Mark began to press his fingertips into your scalp, making you sob. “What’s the matter? Too rough?” He teased, his laugh searing into your brain. You pressed your thighs together as something sent you over the edge, making you spray all over the tiles like a rabid animal. As you gasped for air, Taeyong kept thrusting in your mouth, groaning as he came, moonlight hitting the sheen on his skin as you swallowed every last drop.

Jaehyun & Johnny~ “Faster, sweetie.” His words dripped sticky like honey in the shell of your ear. Your legs wobbled, biting your lip so hard you tasted rusted metal. With Jaehyun’s semi-hard cock nestled inside of you, you tried to grind your hips quicker, earning a satisfied groan from Johnny. “Good girl.” You moaned in pleasure, shockwaves of euphoria running through your body, but moments later, Johnny gripped you around the waist, fingers digging harshly into the plush of your sides. “But not fast enough.” You whimpered, knowing what comes next. Jaehyun brought one arm up to wrap around your shoulders, pulling your face into the crook of his neck. As you shook your head, he shushed you quietly. “Wanna use your safe word?” You shook your head, and Jaehyun held you tighter against him, the fingers of his other hand travelling down to press down on your clit. “Such a nasty little doll for us to fuck.” You moaned when he sped up, tears flowing down your cheeks as you came. “So quick to cum too. Open.” You thought he meant open your eyes, so it took you by surprise when he pressed his fingers past your slightly parted lips, pressing down on your tongue until drool ran down your chin. “Silly girl.”

Your body jerked when you felt the thick tip of Johnny’s cock press against you. You gazed pleadingly at Jaehyun, as if to beg for mercy. “Can’t even use our cocks right. Gotta do all the work ourselves. Stupid girl.” You buried your face into Jaehyun as the heat of embarrassment blossomed across your face, but Johnny wasn’t having it. One quick wrap around his wrist and your head was yanked back, scalp burning from the impact, stray strands of hair falling limply across your face. “What do you say, hmm?” The stretch burned deliciously as he continued to push inside you, tucking himself right next to Jaehyun, so good you forgot how to breathe. “Mnghh, y-yes, s-so good, please, please, Daddy, l-love it, love being stuffed…” Your mouth slackened as an unexpected orgasm rendered you numb. When your senses returned, you felt Jaehyun grind his hips upwards in smooth, fluid, quick snaps, while Johnny pounded you from the back. You cried as you felt another orgasm be torn from you, piece by piece. “F-fuck, oh my god!” Johnny’s arms wrapped around your neck, your fingernails tearing at his biceps for air as you squirted hard over both of them. “Please, Daddy, can’t-“ As he released you, letting you fall onto Jaehyun’s toned torso, you cried, stuttering in between shaky breaths. “T-thank, you, thank you…”

Haechan & Taeil~ “It’s too big…” you whined, lube running down the crevices between your legs. Haechan shushed you, petting your hair. “You’re okay, kitty. Remember we use our words when we want to stop, hmm?” You nodded, remembering the safe word. You couldn’t lie – it felt equal parts weird and good. You felt Taeil lift you by your arms, letting you wrap your arms around him. “Mmm, Daddy…” you sighed as he sucked and nipped at your neck. The dildo continued to travel inside your ass, and Taeil whispered in your ear. “You’re gonna take it all, right? Like a good kitty.” You cried as the stretch started to make you force yourself off the dildo, but Taeil grabbed your thighs, pressing them against his so you couldn’t move. “Shhh…” he continued to kiss along the shell of your ear, while you protested. “Daddy, f-fuck, wait, it’s so b-big…” Haechan was relentless, and without warning, began to thrust it upwards. You felt like your entire world had been split into two, your stomach torn to shreds. “Oh my god!” you screamed. “H-Hyuckie!”

“Naughty kitty…you thought I hadn’t noticed that you were flirting with Mark today?” You cried, shaking your head as he continued his pace. Your heart pounded at the thought of him going faster, even though you knew you could stop him at any point. “Bad kitty.” He tutted. Taeil’s bulge grew underneath your pussy, and you made the mistake of glancing down. “Nasty kitty.” Haechan’s breath tickled the side of your neck, and your body started to shake in pleasure. “Hnghh…” Taeil laughed. “You’re soaking me, kitty. You’re really gonna cum from your punishment?” His teasing tone made you moan incessantly, and he grabbed your hand, shoving it under the waistband of his shorts. “Daddy first.” You nodded, stroking him under his pants as Haechan continued to fuck your ass with the dildo, groaning at your pornographic sounds. “What do you say, kitty?” You felt Taeil coat your hands with cum, and your legs shook. “H-Hyuckie, please, can I cum?” He stayed quiet, pressing the dildo fully inside you. You continued to beg as he pushed his cock inside you, sliding down Taeil’s body agonisingly. “Can’t, c-can’t hold it in, p-please…” Taeil pressed your face on his crotch while he chuckled. “What about me, honey?” With tears running down your face, you begged, “C-can I cum, Daddy…please – oh!” the breath left your lungs as Haechan yanked the dildo out, sheathing himself inside your ass. “Cum, kitty.” You stammered words of relief as you came the hardest you ever had, Haechan finishing all over the curves of your ass and lower back.

Jungwoo & Yuta~ You couldn’t see anything, but you knew it was him. You’d recognise his lips anywhere, tongue slithering up inside you like snakes. “J-Jungwoo.”

You heard the whip crack before you felt it, a diagonal line on your back, white-hot pain seeping into your body. You fought a sob as Jungwoo kissed your neck, the lips on your core still sucking and kissing your sensitive folds. “Wrong.”

He waited for you to give you the all-clear, to nod, letting him know you were still good to continue before he left your side, and it was silent again.

You yelped in surprise as you felt someone nip at your chest, one hand pressing your back to keep you still. You whimpered, the sudden jolts of pain making your body writhe under his arms. “Y-yuta.”

You were released immediately, but your breathing remained laboured. For a second you thought you were wrong again, and you held your breath, squeezing your eyes even though you were blindfolded. “Correct. Last one.” You felt your head be yanked back by your hair, making you yelp. “A-ah, it hurts…” You feel something rub against your lips, the shape and texture making you quickly realise it was a cock. You whimpered involuntarily, knowing this one would make or break this game. You swirled your tongue around the end, sucking on the tip, kissing blindly around the shaft, your lips meeting the softer skin of the balls as you did. “Jungwoo.” You continued kissing, sucking, bringing your hands up to cup his balls, and that’s when you heard him groan. “Fuck. So filthy, isn’t she, Yuta?”

He laughed, and you felt the air between your legs. He sucked your clit, making you moan onto Jungwoo’s length. “A-ah, feels good…” Yuta hummed into your core. “Filthy sluts like you…” he kissed you, “…deserve…” he swirled his tongue inside you, holding your knees down when they rebounded upwards to move away from his mouth, “to cum over, and over…” You came with a cry as he sucked relentlessly, but you were cut off by Jungwoo pushing his cock inside you, making you gag noisily. “If you like my cock so much, let me give it to you.” Dizzy with relief, Jungwoo lay you on your back, the sheets slipping against your bare skin as you slid your body upwards. Yuta held you down, pressing your stomach into the mattress, watching as your back arched off the sheets rhythmically, tits rolling with each movement. “S-so good, fuck, f-fuck…” Your legs felt like jelly as Jungwoo held your face in place, the new angle over you allowing him to thrust in your mouth, the weight of gravity making his cock heavier than usual. Balls slapping against your chin, you felt it bulge in your throat, wrapping your fingers around yourself to feel it slip in and out of you. He pulled out slowly, a slurry of coughs and moans filling the air as you felt yourself cum onto Yuta’s face, his fingers rubbing the inside of your knees to ground you. You babbled incoherently, not knowing whether you wanted Yuta to stop, for Jungwoo to leave. The tip of Jungwoo’s cock on your lips brought to back to Earth. “Give me a kiss.” You kissed him diligently. “Y-yes sir, love this c-cock so much…” He came all over your ruined face to finish the job, just as you felt Yuta press himself inside you, sensitive clit screaming from the stretch.

Doyoung & Jaehyun~ “Stop, s-stop…” Jaehyun halted his fingers as you shuffled your bare body on his satin pants, pressing your legs together to centre yourself in the midst of your post-orgasmic haze. “Already came.” Jaehyun leant his head over your shoulder, bringing your naked body closer to his. “I know, sweetie. Wanna see you make another mess…” He brought his hands closer to your core, watching and waiting for you to protest. You didn’t. You were watching Doyoung, watching the way his shirt hung off him desperately, inches of his body peeking out from under the fabric. “Like what you see?” You moaned unexpectedly when Jaehyun dug his fingers inside you, running his fingers across your spongy walls. “A-ah…” Your mouth hung open, the pleasure more intense than before. Doyoung walked across to tilt your chin upwards, wrapping his fingers around your jaw while his thumb ran across your swollen bottom lip. “What was that you said about your ex? How he made you finish so hard you had to throw away your sheets?” The implications of his words somehow made that knot in your stomach tighten, every stroke of Jaehyun’s fingers now bringing you to the edge of euphoria. “Answer me.” He squeezed your cheeks as you made guttural noises, your orgasm hitting you at once. Jaehyun sped up his fingers, not caring when he felt your insides grip him like a vice, as it begging him to slow down. The slap of his palm against your clit was brutal, and Doyoung pressed his open palm against your mouth. “If you’re not gonna answer me, then you don’t deserve to speak, whore.” Tears sprung to your eyes as you grabbed at Doyoung’s wrist, pleading. He watched you carefully. “Nod if you remember the signal that replaces the safeword.” You nodded eagerly, and he stepped closer to you, his other hand now pushing the back of your head into his palm, holding your head in place.

“Finish me off. Hurry up.” You grabbed at his pants, the silky fabric slipping away as you wrapped your hands around his length. He groaned, bringing your head to his stomach as he let go of your mouth, letting you breathe into his stomach. “Good girl. Stay quiet now.” You whimpered, losing count of the times you had already came. Jaehyun pulled his fingers out, pressing onto your clit now. You lifted your head off Doyoung. “Nghh, wait, not there…” Doyoung smacked your head in warning, making tears spring to your eyes. “This is why you haven’t squirted yet. We’re too nice to you. Always listening to you, treating you like a princess. When all you are is a dirty whore.” His words made the tears run down your face, but you were turned on more than ever. Jaehyun sucked at your neck aggressively, his voice deep and sonorous. “We’re not finished until you’ve squirted hard enough to ruin these pants. Then once again around my cock. And then around his.” You wailed, feeling your orgasm approach you in towering phases. “Ah, ah, feels w-weird, fuck, wait, I think I’m gon-“ You were cut off by Doyoung’s fingers, pressing inside you while Jaehyun drew circles on your clit. “Don’t fucking stop jerking me off. Don’t care if you’re cumming.” You threw your head back, quickening each flick of your wrist as you felt yourself reach your high, each cry more intense than the last. Legs shaking, you felt the wetness come out of you in quick bursts, fingers spreading it all over the three of you, through clothes and onto skin.

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8siangemini · 10 months

Note

Listen my guy I got something I want to request like it's angst like ANGST ANGST bro like ite miles 45 fighting spider women or man reader and miles won and killed us and when he took of the mask it was us! HIS GIRLFRIEND OR BOYFRIEND! Like and can you recreate the scene when Peter got killed by king pin? But it's us and miles

Don't have to do this request and if you do can you make it angst with no happy ending or fluff? Unless it's at the beginning or he's remembering happy moments with us

🧑🏼‍🦲👹

I Am So Sorry Mi Ángel (Earth 42 Miles x Spiderwoman!Reader)

Summary: Up on top :)

WARNINGS: Gore and angst, mentions of death and killing

Author’s Note: I would love to do this!! Sorry it took so long I just figured out how to get my inbox 🥲 Anyways I didn’t know how much I liked and how good I was writing angst even though I don’t read it often 😭 also after writing this I was thinking about write a part 2 if anyone wants one 🤫

You’re on your last leg, your last breath. You layed underneath the ruble of the colapsed collider with your back against a broken piece of concrete. A pain spread through your body from your ribs, your ankles were very likely to be sprained or even broken, your back was scratched and sore, you wre in pain. It was hard to breath even though you were trying to relax. But you knew you couldn’t, you needed to run from the Prowler.

You heard footsteps from the rubble and you snap your head up, which caused a painful cramp to spasm your head. There he was, the Prowler, right in front of you with his claw open, walking up to you like a predator. You flip your body over meekly onto your stomach and tried to crawl away pathetically. Fear spread through your body, there was nothing you could do you were going to be killed, a meer teenager.

You feel a strong hand on the back of your neck and you eyes widened in fear. Your limp body is lifted up and turned around to face the mask you feared the most. His non-clawed hand holding you up by your throat, your airway being blocked. You begin to cough and your vision goes blurry as it goes in and out. Your hands try and pry the hand off but the grip only got stronger.

His claw wide open, slashes at your gut, an immediate feeling of warm blood began to run down your legs. You couldn’t yell, you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t do anything. This was the end of the line for you, you won’t be able to see your parents, you won’t be able to keep the city safe, you won’t be able to be here for your Miles.

The claw balls up into a fist and punches you in the gut. Your mouth falls open, pain staticing throughout your whole body, everything began to feel cold, there was no more warmth in your body.

The only thought you could conjure was Miles. You were not going to see Miles anymore, this morning at school was the last time you were going to see Miles. You won’t be able to have the feeling of love from him no more. Then a different pain went through your body when a single reminder went through your head, you were going to give Miles the bracelet you made for him tomorrow, for your one year anniversary. The bracelet which beads were made from the roses he gave you last month for Valentine’s Day.

“M-miles…” The last thought and last word you said before fate took you.

The Prowler looked at you with wide eyes. Your blood dripped down his claw as he withdrew it from your stomach. Your body fell limp in his hand and he carefully placed your down on the concrete. He took his hand off of your neck and looked down at your lifeless body. He then realized, by the maturity of your body you were only a teenager, no older than him.

His heart raced at the realization that he had taken a teenager’s life. Just as he was about to get up he thought about it, people are going to know who Spider-Woman is. He wanted to know, he needed to know who he killed and not just Spider-Woman.

He liftd his finger underneath the hem of your mask and his heart dropped. Just from the lips and nose he knew who it was. He had kissed those lips just a few hours ago, he had kissed that nose when you fell asleep on his chest. He fully yanked your mask off and his fear and regret fell over him. His mask retracted and now it was just you and him, face to face. His own love in front of him, lifeless, due to him. The claw retracted from his hand from a loud thud and he quickly pulled your shoulders up and held you against his chest.

The tears finally fell, his lips quivered, and a loud cry of distress came from his lungs. He buried his nose into your neck which was bruised from his hand.

“Mi c-corazon…” He cried out as he pulled you away and looked at your face.

Your body limp in his hand as one of his hands held your back and the other up to your cheek. Your eyes were lifeless, cloudy, and your mouth was agape with small drips of blood from your lips. He hated this cite of you, he wanted to protect you from the world. He would have burned down the world for you, he wanted to in this very moment if that he meant he could have you back. He was a monster.

“No, no, no, no, mi corazon please.” Miles cried out helpless remarks as he eagerly moved his hand around your body.

First from your face, to your neck hoping that he could find a pulse, none. Then to your chest, no heartbeat. Then to your wrist, no pulse. He looked at your eyes as his eyes filled with tears, they use to be so full of love and happiness. He imaged your smile that caused your eyes to close, but your face was nothing like that. No happiness, no smile, just lifeless.

He looked up as his tears fell down his cheeks. He held to your body, knowing this would be the last time he could ever touch you again.

“You,” He said talking to God. “you gotta be playing games with me. First my pops now her.” He pleaded. “Why her?”

He cried into your hair as he closed your eyes with his fingers. He held your face as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead. Your skin was cold which made him cry more. His lips went down to your’s, hoping he could feel a sign of life from them. There was none, there was no press back from you as he kissed your lips, they were cold. Miles drew away only a couple inches away from your lips as his lips quivered in front of you.

“I am so sorry mi ángel.”

——

He walked around your empty cold room as he heard his mom talking to your parents just in the living room.

“I am so sorry for your lost.” He heard his mom say.

He looked around the room full of posters with clothes pouring out of your closet. It felt like the skin of you, the room looked like you but had none of the happiness it use to give him every time he came into it to find you on your bed. It felt cold and empty, lifeless. Today would have been your guys’ one year anniversary, the thought of it weighted on his heart. He walked over to your desk to see what your last art projects were to try and salvage any part of you so he could possibly keep you in his life.

There were multiple drawings and sketches of him that you drew to practice anatomy on your pinboard above your desk. There were many pictures pinned as well with you two. He looked down and he saw a small gift bag on your desk. He opened the tag which read, To: Mi Vida From: Tu Corazón. His heart picked up.

He hesitantly pulled out the tissue paper and saw a small bracelet a long with a card. He pulled out the card and took the letter out of the envelope.

‘Happy One Year Mi Vida!!!

365 days later and you still deal with me. I made your gift (like always) out of the roses you gave me for Valentine’s Day :). I love you so much Miles and I can’t wait for more years to come <3.

-Love, Tu Corazón’

A pain came to Miles’ heart, knowing that there will be no more years to come with you and him together. He reaches inside of the bag and pulls out an elastic beaded bracelet with dark red beads. He immediately put it on his wrist and reached I side of his jacket pocket. He pulled out your torn up, bloody mask from last night. It was one of the last things he had of you left. He held it to his forehead, imagining that your face is still underneath the mask to comfort him. But it wasn’t.

He had destroyed you with his own hands, he could not forgive himself for that. He had killed the one person that saw him in the way he didn’t, an actual human being and not a monster. But now after what he did he could only think of himself as a monster.

“I am so sorry, mi corazón.” He said through silent cries as he kept your mask close to his face.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #spider man #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spider woman #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x spider woman

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howtofightwrite · 3 months

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For a character that virtually can’t die and regenerates in order to keep living, how do you make action interesting? Emphasize they still feel pain, why they’re doing it?

I'm actually going to step back a bit from this question first, and complement it. This is a very honest question, and something most writers who include violence in their work, should really think about. Even if you don't think you have characters like this, you do.

Now, I'm going to dunk on Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw for a moment. Ages ago (I think it was in one of his Resistance reviews), Yahtzee described, “threatening to blow up the world,” as the laziest form of raising the stakes. Because, “hey, I live on a world.” He's mostly correct. Threatening your protagonist's life is even lazier. In the vast majority of cases, your audience knows you won't go through with it. That you won't kill off your protagonists.

With that in mind, when you decide your protagonist is completely immortal, that changes less about how you write them than you might expect. The biggest difference is simply that they're directly aware of their plot armor, rather than them engaging in faux indecision based on their perceived mortality. Again, this is something that every writer who uses violence should think about, at least a bit. It is natural for a character to fear for their life, and have reservations about risking their life, but making the part where your character's lives are on the line isn't automatically suspenseful. In a lot of cases (consciously or not), your audience will call your bluff, when you threaten to kill off a major character.

If you think back to major character deaths where something drops them without warning, part of what makes those scenes work is the lack of (apparent) setup. The writer didn't spend pages teasing you with the idea, they just went for the throat and ended that character on the spot. This is more respectful of your audience, because you're not telling them, “well, I might kill this character, or I might not.”

To be clear, I'm not saying that there's no place for teasing your audience with a character's impending demise, just pointing out that in a lot of cases, this won't generate the kind of suspense you'd hope for.

So, to get back on topic, how do you make it interesting? Remember that while this character can't die, the same is not true for the characters around them. Depending on the tone you're going for, you could create an absolutely brutal crucible effect, where everyone around your immortal gets burned off, sooner or later. Whether that's literal, or figurative, is up to you. Even if your character can't die, watching people they care about suffer and die is going to have an effect on them.

You probably don't need to draw special attention to the physical pain they experience, but you do want to be aware of it. Especially in the context of how pain affects the victim's behavior. Beyond that, there is probably an element of pain being far more annoying to the immortal than it would be to a normal person. They know it's not telling them anything meaningful, but it is distracting.

Long-term, both of these can easily result in personality shifts. And, legitimately, this is a scenario where a character may be immortal, but they would still experience significant changes over time, and with the growing emotional pain, could have very adverse effects on your personality. This does have some very real, “live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” potential. How many friends can you lose before you stop caring? How many funerals can you attend before you start taking the phrase, “you're either part of the solution or part of the problem,” a little too far? How many times can you pick yourself up off the pavement a blood-covered alleyway, surrounded by corpses, before you start to forget what made you human in the first place?

And, that's not the only option. The simplest answer for maintaining tension when one of your characters is immortal is keeping your eye on what they're trying to accomplish. Keep track of their objectives, because I guarantee they can fail those. Even just keeping their own nature concealed from the mortal world is probably fairly important, because of the idea that men in hazmat suits will drag them away to some research lab and poke them until they figure out how to replicate their immortality, is a classic (and potentially plausible) threat. (Bonus points, if you're wanting to loop in something like the medieval inquisitions, or some other secret societies that could pose this kind of a threat.)

So, what do you do? To dig out an old cliché threat, “there are fates worse than death,” and it's probably worth exploring them. This also opens up new possibilities for threats. Finally, it's worth remembering that immortality does not guarantee success. If your character is hoping for that, it might be time to give them a very harsh lesson.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

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fxllfaiiry · 10 months

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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ୨୧ : ꒰ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 ꒱ ♡ ˚₊‧

⌗ synopsis : some nsfw and sfw miguel headcanons.

⌗ cw : both fluff and smut. swearing, use of yn like once, some angst, thigh riding, titty fucking, size kink, mentions of crying and pain kink, breeding kink.

⌗ notes : REPOST!! someone flagged this post and I worked really hard on writing this fic so it's annoying and it makes me upset, please don't flag it again, just scroll away. please, please reblog!!!

✰ miguel o'hara makes you watch him work out because he knows how flustered you get when he's sweaty and shirtless. he'll also make you sit on his back while he's doing push-ups, exaggerating every move just to tease you.

✰ when he's not in his spiderman suit, he sometimes likes to wear the tightest shirts around you, he knows those shirts do his arms justice.

✰ the only person he's scared of is you. if you don't want him to do something, he won't do it. end of story.

✰ you occasionally like to tease him by randomly slapping his ass or saying things like:

"how are your tits bigger than mine?"

"teach me your workout routine"

"damn, that ass looks good"

"you definitely have a big dick"

✰ you are the only person who can make miguel o'hara flustered.

✰ you love to kiss him every time he pouts, it's the cutest thing ever.

✰ when you guys are in public he shows little to no pda, but he smiles a lot more than usual.

✰ he may never admit it, but he loves cuddles :)) he loves to cage you in his arms and place kisses wherever he can reach. it's very soothing and helps him fall asleep.

✰ loves to watch you cook while hugging you from behind.

✰ playfully pretends to bite you every now and then, he looks all big and scary but he does have a soft side.

✰ remember the scene with lyla and miguel where she made him say please before calling for backup? yeah imagine that with you.

"yn, go call for backup now."

"excuse me? is this how you talk to your wife?" you huff glaring at him.

"I don't have time for this right now, just do it, okay?" he grumbles.

"not until you say it." "no-"

"fine, no backup then." you start walking away from him ready to leave, until -

"okay, okay. baby, will you p-please call for backup?" he whispers.

"louderr"

"baby, will you please call for backup?"

"yeah I already did, but I enjoyed that"

✰ slowly learns to open up to you about his trauma, it takes some time but once he's ready you guys spend hours talking to each other.

✰ he can never stay mad at you for too long, most of the time he's the first to apologize.

✰ if you cry because of him he'll do anything to make it up to you. he'll make you your favorite meal to cheer you up and then later hold you tightly against him apologizing over and over again.

✰ everyone teases him for being so soft around you, sometimes you join in as well.

"yeah, miggy, did I turn you into a giant soft teddy bear, hm?

"dear god, please shut up."

୨୧　:　꒰ nsfw ahead ꒱　　♡

✰ this man is the king of aftercare, cuddling with you and whispering how good you were. he'll even run you a bath afterward and shower you with affection.

✰ makes you get off on his thigh because he knows how much you love riding it, he loves how wet it gets with your arousal, making you clean it up afterwards.

✰ definitely is into fucking your tities, he has no control and starts to rut his hips like an animal. he admires how pretty your tits and face look afterwards covered in his cum.

✰ is addicted to eating you out, thrusting his tongue into your hole for hours and hours, he's addicted to your taste. miguel also conveniences you to ride his face and use him as you please, all he wants is to be suffocated between your thighs.

✰ he can usually smell when you're horny for him, if he's at work and this happens then it's an awkward situation, because he desperately wants to fucking rail you in the nearest empty room. oh, and he also has to hide his boner from everyone.

✰ uses his strength to hold you up against the wall and fuck you hard and fast.

✰ he knows how big he is and mocks you about how you won't be able to fit him in your tiny pussy.

"are you sure it'll fit, mami?"

"your pussy is so tiny, mama. I don't think you'll be able to take it"

✰ winds you up by rubbing his cock up and down your pussy without putting it in, he barely has any patience himself, seeing his cock glisten with your wetness makes him lose his mind.

✰ miguel will slap your cunt as a punishment until you're clenching around nothing and crying while begging him to fuck you.

✰ leaves love bites everywhere as a reminder that you are his and his only.

✰ you'll wear his favorite shade of lipstick before sucking him off, leaving the lipstick's imprint on his dick.

✰ breeds you like an animal, fucking you raw for hours and filling you up in every position. nothing will leak out on his watch and if it does, then he'll shove it back in using his fingers. he will lick up everything from your overestimated cunt ignoring your soft whimpers of "papi, it hurts."

✰ ties you up with his webbing and uses you as his personal toy.

✰ loves to take you from behind, smacking your ass and leaving handprints, because he's mezmeriozed by the way it jiggles every time. while he's hitting it from behind he's so rough and messy, coating you with his seed all over your ass and back, filling you up to the brim, and making sure you don't walk the next day.

✰ talking back to him will only lead to him rubbing your clit and edging you till your clit is red and engorged to the point where the throbbing has become unbearable. he might take pity and finally fuck your weeping hole.

"finally learned your lesson, mama?"

✰ soft sex is also a yes!! he may be rough and all but he loves to dot on you, whispering praises into your ear while holding you oh so delicately against his body.

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff

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sheeple · 27 days

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Heirs of Hogwarts | part 3

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Matt's thirsty (but so are you also lowkey) / Awkward family moments / Visuals (Don't like them? Don't use them🤷🏻‍♀️) / I suck at writing kiss scenes (yes it's happening) / it's spicy but not full on smut (smut adjacent) A/n: For now this is the end of the mini-series. Thank you all for enjoying my story and see you all in the next one! [Masterlist] [part 1] [part 2]

Normally you would love to be proven right. Revel in the knowledge that they should have listened to you. But now? Fuck being right. You don't want to right.

You've been carrying the letter with you for a couple of days and the weight of it makes your schoolbag makes it feel like it's filled with bricks. The letter is weighing you down, and everybody around you seems to notice it. Especially Mattheo. You still hang out with him, of course, but every time the words are on the tip of your tongue, you chicken out.

"Have you told him yet?", asks Susan as she sees you reading the letter again during lunch.

Giving her a frowned look, you shake your head. How in Merlin's name can you inform him that 'hey, my parents want to meet you because Meemaw saw us sneak into my dorm. Now they think we are together and having sex and want to meet the hypothetical father of my hypothetical baby if we were actually having hypothetical sex and not being careful. All hypothetically of course. Why else would I sneak a boy into my dorm?'

Not casually at least.

You look over towards his table and meet his eyes. He motions with his head towards the door. You nod with a small smile and finish your juice. "See you in class."

"Have fun with your boyfriend!", she calls after you and you flip her off.

"What was all that about?", asks Mattheo with a small smile while the two of you walk side by side towards Herbology.

You shrug, scratching the nailbed of your thumb. You feel a sharp pain but you continue. You know now more than ever that this is the time. "I've... I've received a letter. From my parents." You fish the letter out of your bag and hold it out for him.

Mattheo stops and looks unsurely towards the folded-up paper. When you give him a nod he unfolds the letter. You watch nervously how his eyes scan over the words.

When he stays silent, you begin to panic. "We- you don't have to! I can totally write my parents back and tell them... something! That we broke up or whatever."

"You've got nieces?" He's got a soft smile on his face as he traces the embellishments of the letter. Of course, the stationery of House Hufflepuff has its letters decorated to match the vibe of the family name.

With a shake of your head, you run a hand over your hair. "Out of everything... the thing you focus on is my nieces? Not that fact that my parents want to meet you?"

Mattheo shrugs, handing you the letter back. "Yeah, so what? That's what boyfriends do, don't they? Meet their girlfriend's parents. Fake relationship or not. Wasn't it your parents you wanted to fool?"

That shuts you up and a flaring heat spreads over your face and neck, even towards the points of your ears. "I-I yeah... But I never imagined them doing this! Then I would have never done all this to you!" With a guilty look, you slowly reach for one of his hands. You rub slow circles over the back of his hand.

Mattheo's brain short circuits as his eyes focus on your hand and his. How soft the pad of your thumb feels against his skin. He wonders if your hands feel as soft on different parts of his body. Or how sharp your nails feel when you scratch his back.

He snaps out of it and shakes his head. Taking his chance, he turns his hand around and laces his fingers with yours. "So... how do I leave a good impression on your parents?"

You think for a moment, looking away. "As superficial as it sounds, they put great value in looking a certain way." In that way they're just like other pure-blood families, you want to add but don't. You don't want to offend him or his family.

With a determent nod, Mattheo starts walking the opposite way you were going, pulling you behind him.

"Where are you taking me? Divination is that way", you point over your shoulder as you catch up to him.

Mattheo gives you a daring smile, his eyes wrinkling playfully. "My dorm. I need your advice on what to wear."

You protest and sputter about your attendance all the way towards the Slytherin dungeons. A snake made of metal rises from the ground and reveals a set of double doors. "Pure-Blood", says Mattheo and the doors swing open. You give him a look and he shrugs. "It's the password. Nothing I can do about it."

"I said nothing!", you laugh, being pulled through the entrance

The common area looks like it's carved out of rock, with marble pillars and arches. Large windows give you a look into the endless depth of the Black Lake, fish swimming by. It takes your breath away how stunning the Slytherin common room looks. It's oh so different from your own, but just as beautiful.

You try to ignore the stares you get from the Slytherin's around the room. You do stand out like a sore thumb with your sunshine yellow robes.

"Don't you ever need to pee very much when you are in the common area?", you ask, motioning towards the waterfall you circle as you enter the common room and the many water features around.

Mattheo rolls his eyes with a smile as he leads you down a corridor and holds open the door for you to enter his dorm. Four four-poster beds with green drapes are arranged in a circle with a heater in the middle of the room, spreading warmth around the room. He motions for you to sit on his bed while he rummages through his closet.

You lean back on your hands as you watch him pull one after the other crumbled-up shirt and pants out of the closet. He sends you a slightly embarrassed look and you hop off his bed.

"Let me have a look", you say softly, pushing him to the side.

"I'm sorry... It's a bit of a mess." He scratches the back of his neck as a slight blush colours his cheeks.

You wave his worries away as you spot a nice pair of jeans and a not-too-crumpled black shirt. It could totally work paired with a dark green jacket. You lay out the pieces on his bed and look proudly between the outfit and Mattheo. It's something you're parents would approve of while still being himself

"If you wear this with the shirt tucked in and your hair just styled like you always do, everything will be okay." You turn towards him with a smile.

While you were arranging the clothes, Mattheo snuck closer to you. He now stands so close to you, that you can smell his cologne. Your lips part as you look up at him. "Matt?", you whisper as he slowly cradles your face with both of his hands.

His eyes flicker from your eyes towards your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel soft puffs of breath on your face.

Mere millimetres before his lips touch yours, the door swings open and the two of you jump away from each other. "God fucking damn it", you hear him grumble under his breath as Enzo and Draco stand in the doorway.

The two boys look at you with wide eyes before Draco's expression morphs into something more teasing. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything", he says slyly, sending a smirk towards Mattheo. Who gives the blond a scalding glare.

Feeling way too awkward about the situation, you quickly gather your things. "I-I have to go. I wouldn't want to be late for my next class." Giving Mattheo a shy smile, you rush out of his dorm and the Slytherin common room — almost stumbling down and then up the stairs.

Once you deem yourself far away enough, you slump against a wall and cup your scorching hot cheeks. Your heart beats wildly in your chest... and somewhere else. Did that really just happen? Or almost? In Merlin's name, when did you get so hot and bothered about Mattheo Riddle? Not long ago he was a nuisance to you. And now? Now you've almost kissed two times and he's meeting your parents this weekend.

When you close your eyes you still see Mattheo's warm honey ones, looking at you with such softness and want- no need.

Gods.

Shaking your head, you steady yourself and with slightly unsteady legs you walk towards Arithmancy.

Meanwhile, back in the boy's dorm, Mattheo collapses onto his bed and curses out his friends. "Fucking twats!" He presses the balls of his hands into his eyes, frustration running rampant through his body.

This was the second time someone interrupted him trying to kiss you. Just when he has gathered the courage to do so. First your friends and now his own. Who out there has it so out for him to cockblock him two times.

Draco and Enzo just look with high amusement towards their frustrated-to-no-end friend. They're gonna take this moment and tease him forever with it.

You don't get a chance to talk to Mattheo about the kiss. To talk to him in general. Because every time the two of you spot each other, either his or your friends wisk you away and it's driving you mad. It's like they planned it together or something.

It makes you all sulky because you want to discuss what happened between the two of you multiple times. You want answers — which you are lowkey scared of. But it's better to rip the bandage off quickly and get your heart broken than live with questions and never get an answer.

You walk into the Great Hall that Saturday, your fingers anxiously clawing at the nailbeds. But you've taken precautions and bandaged up your thumbs so you can't scratch. The pain stays but there's no blood.

"Don't you look all lovely", smiles Hanah brightly, making you twirl.

You smile and show her a cheeky leg as the split in your skirt falls perfectly when you sit. "Well...", you let out a nervous sigh, "Matt's meeting my parents today. So, we have to look the part, don't we?"

Your friends' eyes bulge out at the nickname you gave Slytherin bad boy Mattheo Riddle. Nobody ever dared to call him anything other than his name.

"Is that why he was not-so-subtly sneaking glances at us before you came?", wonders Susan out loud, which makes you tense up.

Looking at the Slytherin table, you find Mattheo easily. He gives a small wave with a smile and you return the gestures. "I'm going to sit over there. I have to prepare him from the wolves."

Slowly, you rise from your table and walk to the other side of the Great Hall. You feel the eyes of the Hufflepuff's and Slytherin's on you. But the only important ones are Mattheo's liquid honey ones, who look at you in wonder.

"Hi", you whisper when you finally reach him.

"Hi", he whispers back, a wide smile on his face.

"Can I sit with you?"

Without hesitation, he nods and slides to the side, almost shoving Enzo into Blaise's lap. He pats the now-empty spot next to him and you swing your leg over the bench. Mattheo zero's in on your bare leg and his brain shortcircuits.

You try to ignore the weird looks the Slytherin's present are giving you as you reach over and grab a piece of toast. You meet Hannah and Susan's eyes from across the room and they give you enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Swallowing your bite, you turn towards the boy next to you to say something. But your words die on your tongue at the look Mattheo gives you. It's unreadable. But not bad unreadable. There is some fondness in there you believe. "I have to warn you, by the way."

He cocks his head to the side, an easy smile on his face. "For your parents?"

A snort escapes you and you shake your head. "No- well... maybe my dad will grill you. But my brothers are way worse. They will either try to embarrass me or you."

"How many do you have?"

"Brothers? Four. There's a twin pair in there too. They are the second youngest after me."

Mattheo pales slightly. Four brothers? He found Thomas already trouble enough. But Four? He knows he's in for some shit.

You can't help but laugh as he visibly pales. Taking his hand, you pat it. You look around the Slyherin's. They all look very amused at Mattheo's despair.

The two of you finish your breakfast before it's time to go. Your parents expect you for lunch but knowing your family, there's not going to be time during just lunch.

"How are we getting to your home?", questions Mattheo as you both walk through the halls towards Professor Sproud's office.

You knock on the door and when there's no answer, you enter the room. "Via portkey. Which should arrive any second now." And like you said, a little yellow cup appears on the desk.

Placing a hand on the cup, you hold the other out for him to take. Mattheo does so and the two of you are whisked away from the castle.

You stumble for a second before you find your footing. Taking a deep breath, your senses fill with the floral aroma of your home. It feels good to be back.

"Holy fucking shit", you hear Mattheo whisper under his breath as he looks at the estate your family owns. It looks centuries old, with ivy covering most of the outer walls. A sprawling garden buzzes with bees and butterflies. A fountain is heard somewhere in the back.

You feel slightly embarrassed at Mattheo's slack jaw. This is mostly the reason why you never told about or took anyone home. The house mansion has been in your family's name for centuries. It's said that Meemaw bought it, but there's no proof of it.

"Come on." You tug him by his hand towards the front door. Mattheo's too caught up by the exterior of the house that he bumps into you when you stop in front of the front door. "Ready?", you ask, and he shakes his head.

As you ring the bell, Mattheo looks at the inscribing above the door. "Dum spiro spero, vi et animo. What does that mean?"

"As long as I breathe I hope, with strength and courage", says your father as he opens the door with a wide smile. "It's our family's motto. Nice to meet you, son." He holds out his hand for Mattheo to shake.

As he pulls the boy inside, you try your bestest to not cringe. "Dad this is Mattheo. My boyfriend." You shyly glance towards Mattheo to gauge his reaction. A slight blush paints his cheeks and you bite your lip hiding your smile.

Your dad shakes the dark-haired boy's hand enthusiastically. He starts to ramble off about the family motto and what it means and it morphs into an in-depth history lesson about the house. How the tiles and pillars in the foyer are at least four hundred years old and how they're kept in such fine condition by magic.

"Dad!", you call out, not having missed the hidden panicked looks Mattheo has given you, trying his best to look interested. "Don't you think it's a little early for Staghill History 101? Let the boy breathe."

Your father lets go of Mattheo with a jolly laugh, his moustache curling upwards. "You are right. I am so sorry, good chap. Why don't you two go to the library while I round up the twins? They're all very excited to meet him."

Tugging on Mattheo's hand, you nod. "Sure. Make sure they clean off any dirt before Mum has an aneurysm. Again."

As you lead him towards the south wing, you stop just outside of the library. "Are you okay? I'm sorry. My dad's a lot and he's just happy to see anyone and everyone. Could be Father Christmas with how jolly he is." You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, looking away.

Mattheo laughs. "It's okay. He's... nice. Now I get where you get it from."

"What?", you question with a cock of your head.

Mattheo wets his bottom lip, his eyes focused on yours. "That twinkle in your eyes when you talk about something you're passionate about." He reaches out for your flaming hot cheeks, cupping them.

The doors to your right swing open and the two of you feel like little children caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Your oldest brother, Felix, raises one disapproving brow and the two of you quickly step away from each other.

"Is it them? Don't hog the door, you big oaf!" Behind Felix appears Herbert, immediately engulfing you in a big, bone-crushing hug.

"They were snogging", says Felix, walking back towards the couch he always sits on when he visits home. His comment earns him a swat from his wife next to him.

"We were not!", you protest scandalised, wrestling out of Herbert's hold. "We were just... It's none of your business what we were doing!" You grab Mattheo's hand and walk into the library, towards your mother.

He scoffs under his breath, mumbling; "You made it everybody's business when you let Meemaw catch you." That earns him another swat from his wife and a stern look from your mother.

"Mum", you say after giving her a hug, tugging Mattheo closer, "I would like you to meet Mattheo."

"It's very nice to meet you, ma'am." Mattheo puts on his most charming smile while holding out his hand.

Your mother shakes her head and gives him one of her signature warm hugs. "None of that! Call me Clementine. Or Clemmy. Or Ma. You're practically family now!"

You blanch, shrinking into yourself. Dear Lord. Why does your mom need to be so much?

Felix snorts. "Is he to stay? What happened to that bloke from Christmas?"

Yours and Mattheo's eyes meet and you purse your lips. "I rather not speak about it..."

That gets their attention, both men leaning forward in their seats. "What did he do?"

"Nothing!" You grow irritated at their endless questions as your mom ushers the two of you towards a couch. Sitting closely together, Mattheo lays a hand on your knee. You don't know if it's to comfort you or to ground himself.

Herbert studies the two of you with his eyes narrowed. He purses his lips while leaning back into the chair. "He beat the ex up, didn't he?"

"Oh, my Gods! Can you not play detective about my life? Stop talking about my ex with my new boyfriend right next to me", you scowl, not wanting the two of them to flip out over something that you're way past.

At that, your mother claps in her hands. "That's right! Mattheo, why don't you tell me something about yourself? What house are you in for instance?"

Mattheo glances nervously towards you and you lay a hand over his own, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "I'm in Slytherin, ma'am. I hope that isn't an issue."

Your mom chortles and waves his concern away. "Oh please, we aren't that kind of family."

"Speaking of family", pipes Herbert from across the room, "Who's family you belong to?"

Both your mom and you sputter and scold Herbert. But the twins coming in gives your brother his answer.

"Why on Meemaw's good name is Mattheo Riddle sitting next to our sister?", sneers Victor, Danny leering over his shoulder.

A groan escapes you while you slink down the couch, hiding your face in your hands. You had hoped that Mattheo's family wouldn't be a subject. The twins are the only ones from your family who have seen the kind of nuisance Mattheo has been to you before leaving school last year. Of course, it looks very fucking weird that he is now cosying up to you, his hand on your knee and claiming to be your boyfriend.

You feel everybody's eyes on the two of you. Mattheo shrinks down under the many gazes, his hold on you tightening in a silent plea to not abandon him right now.

Not knowing how to get away under the scrutiny, you glance at your mom. She looks shocked and when she meets your eyes, her gaze softens before turning stern. "Didn't I always tell you boys to not judge people? What can the poor boy do about which cradle he was born into? So get off your high horses and be nice to the boy!" She stands with her hands on her hips, berating your brothers.

"What did I miss?", asks your father, standing in the doorway with a tray filled with cookies and teacups, the teapot floating behind him.

"Nothing", smiles your mother, turning towards you, "I was just saying that Mattheo should have a tour of the house. Why don't you do that, honey?"

Getting what she's implying, you nod exuberantly. "Yeah, right! Let's go."

Mattheo's all too happy to escape the tense room and quickly follows after you, walking with a big arch around the twins, who are still glaring at him.

"I am so sorry." You cast your eyes towards the floor as the two of you walk through one of the many art-lined hallways. "I- There is no excuse for how they treated you..."

Mattheo's hand on your waist makes you stop and look up at him, unsheathed tears dancing in your waterline. He tuts, wiping away the single one that has managed to escape. "Don't cry, pretty girl. It's a warranted reaction. I'm used to it by now. How awkward it was anyways."

You pout while leaning into his hand. "That's horrible Matt. You don't deserve to be treated like that because your father made a wrong choice!"

"It was more than a wrong choice, lovely. Besides, there's not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin, remember?" He laughs, but you see that there's sadness in his eyes.

With a shake of your head, you lean closer to him. "You aren't bad! Such a vile stereotype."

This time a genuine laugh bubbles out of Mattheo's chest. "Oh, sweet, sweet, Hufflepuff", he trances your cheek with the pads of his fingers, "there are many things that make me as bad as they say. Mostly for the thoughts I have about you."

Your brain short circuits and you blink up at him, processing his words. He has what? Heh?

Mattheo chuckles at your dumbfounded look. Oh, how cute you are when you are clueless. He clasps his hands behind his back and looks around. "Is there anything in particular you want me to see?", he asks, throwing you a bone.

That seems to snap you out of your daydream of what Mattheo could do to you and you shake your head. "Yes. There is one final person I have to introduce you to."

The two of you walk side by side as he studies both muggle and magical paintings. You lead him towards the main sitting with an empty frame with a chair hanging above the fireplace. Dragging an ottoman over, you motion for Mattheo to follow your lead and climb on top of the cushions.

"Meemaw", you call out towards the empty portrait, "I would like to meet someone."

It takes a second or two before your ancestor appears from the side, graciously draping herself and her skirts on the chair. "My littlest Badger! How are you, my dear?"

You lean closer, smiling. "Hello, Meemaw. I would like you to meet someone." You motion towards Mattheo, who looks with big eyes at her.

"Isn't that...?"

Heat spreads over your face and you bite your bottom lip. "I- yeah..."

"Mattheo Riddle, your ladyship." He bows slightly, earning a hearty laugh from her.

"Aren't you a charmer? You musn't call me ladyship. Just Helga is fine. Or Meemaw, seeing as you are our littlest badger's love." She sends you a doting smile. "Say, if I may ask; aren't you one of Salazar's boys?"

"Yes. I hope that isn't an issue for you, Helga."

She waves his concerns away. It surprised you how easily Meemaw's taken by Mattheo. He's a naturally charming person when he wants to be after all.

"Oh, of course not, dear boy! Your great-grandfather and I had a... very special relationship of our own when we were younger. It warms my heart that our descendants have found each other." A fond look paints her face as she looks off in the distance.

As a melancholy glimmer befalls her, you take that as your cue to leave. "I have to continue my tour of the house, Meemaw. See you later."

Waving her off, you hop off the ottoman and put it back in the right place before exiting the sitting room. A sigh escapes your lips and you swing your arms back and forth. Mattheo gives you a raised brow before taking your hand in his and continuing the swinging.

It's nice. The two of you just walking and talking about nothing special in particular. You sometimes point out some facts about you growing up around the house. "In that room, we always used to build pillow forts in." Or "I once ran against that door and lost both my front teeth. They were loose anyways", you add quickly at his concerned look.

Everything's so easy with Mattheo that it scares you. How are you supposed to go back to strangers after your arrangement has come to an end? Can you even go back to strangers? Even if Mattheo doesn't feel the same, you wish you at least could stay friends. Because he's genuinely a nice person to hang out with. It would sadden you to lose him.

The ring of a bell plucks you from your thoughts and you turn towards where the sound came from. "Oh! Dinner's ready." You lead the both of you towards the dining room, taking shortcuts and hidden doors. Mattheo chuckles as you press open another hidden panel before finally arriving in said room.

Out of habit, you go to sit at your usual place at the table and Mattheo follows you. But as he pulls the chair back, Danny is quick to sit in it. After sending a glare at your brother, you look apologetic towards the dark-haired boy. His eyes scan the room and the only free seat is right in front of you, between Herbert and Felix.

Mattheo sighs and takes place on the empty seat. He feels your brothers stare at him, and he does his best to try and act normal. He smiles politely and answers any questions your mother asks him. Eventually, he learns that — who he believes is Felix — is a beater for the Caerphilly Catapults. His wife plays for the Holyhead Harpies and that's how they met each other.

Dinner seems to pass by smoothly — not counting the snarky remarks of the twins. But they're dicks. As everybody starts to collect the dishes, your father clears his throat. "Why don't you all go outside and...", he glances towards Mattheo, "Take a lap around the fountain so Mattheo and I can have a heart-to-heart."

Both you and Mattheo send slightly panicked looks towards each other as he gets led away by your father. As your brothers let out an 'oooh', you jab Danny in his side with your elbow. He rubs his side with a slight pout and you poke out your tongue.

"The last one is a rotten egg!", yells Victor and he sprints towards the back door. You let out a curse and start sprinting after him, the others following.

While you and your brothers race towards the burrow, Mattheo gets led towards your father's office. He anxiously takes place in the chair in front of your father's desk. The man leans forward and studies the Slytherin boy with narrowed eyes.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?", he asks, getting straight to the point.

What are his intentions? Well... he can think of a few things. But none are parent-approved answers. "I like her. I really do, Sir. I wouldn't dare to hurt her." Because that is the truth. He always had a crush on you, but getting to know you? You're everything and so much more than he imagined.

Your father hums. "I ask this because I have received some chatter that you've been in a... physical altercation with one Malcolm Preece. So, Mattheo, what is the deal with that?" He leans back in the leather chair, one brow raised.

For the first time in a while, Mattheo feels genuinely nervous. And it's not the same kind of nervous before he took you out on your first date. No. This is a different kind of nervousness. A deep-down fear to disappoint the people who he cares about.

And yes, you are one of those people he realises. He cares about you the most.

Lying will do no good. Because, as your father has shown, he somehow has a way to get information about what happens at school. "In all honesty, sir, Preece was threatening your daughter. They broke up and he kept bothering her. It... indeed got physical because some guys don't know when to take a hint."

Your father purses his lips, his eyes scanning over Mattheo's face. Searching for a sign of dishonesty. But he finds none.

"Did you at least get him good?"

That makes the dark-haired boy laugh. "Yes, sir. He won't dare to bother her again."

Your father stands up from his chair and holds out his hand for Mattheo to shake. With a smile and a firm handshake, he says, "You did good son. Now, I believe someone's way too anxious to wait a second longer." He points towards the door, where a shadow is seen pacing under through the crack.

Mattheo closes the door behind him and sees you look at him with wide eyes, chewing on your thumb. "How did it go? What did Dad say?" You fling your arms around him and press your cheek against his shoulder.

He smiles and wraps his arms around you. "Don't worry. Everything's fine." When you look up at him, he cradles your face and wipes away some stray dirt. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it", he smiles.

You roll your eyes but can't help but smile. "Fine. You know what, if we leave now, we maybe have some time left before curfew."

A smirk grows on Mattheo's face while he wetts his bottom lip. "And do what?"

"I don't know", you shrug playfully, pulling him with you, "We will see."

"Absolutely not", says your mother when you come and say your goodbyes. "Your room is already set up. Fresh sheets and everything! Wasn't that clear from my letter?"

Your eyes dart nervously towards Mattheo, who gives you the same look. You silently ask him if he's okay with it. If he's not uncomfortable. He shrugs. He's not too bothered by the idea of staying over.

A sigh escapes you. "Fine. But we don't have anything to sleep in."

Your mother claps in her hands and gets up from the couch, motioning for the both of you to follow her. She leads you through the house, towards your bedroom.

The smell of clean cotton hits you as soon as you enter your room and you breathe in the smell. That's one of the many things you miss about your home. The house elves of Hogwarts don't use the same detergent as your mother and it just hits a special spot in your brain when you finally smell it.

"I'll grab a pair of Felix's clothes for you, Mattheo." Your mother pats his shoulders before exiting the room.

The boy in question stands in the middle of your bedroom and a smile grows on his face. He can't explain why but it so much you. In the short period he has gotten to know you, this is exactly the type of room he imagined you to have. Maybe with fewer plants.

A four-poster bed stands in the middle of the room, facing a fireplace. On top of the bed grows some hanging plants that spread onto the walls and turn into wallpaper. There's a cosy-looking chair next to the fireplace with tons of pillows and blankets.

You watch him eyeing the chair and you mention towards it. "You can sit in it if you want. It gives you also a really nice view over the garden."

Mattheo does so, burying himself between the pillows. The garden is almost too perfect with the way it's lit up by floating lights and lightningbugs. When he looks back at you to comment on the beautifulness, he sees you pull away the many pillows from your bed into a trunk at the front of your bed and readying the bed for sleeping.

"I... I can sleep on the ground- if you're more comfortable with that. I could even fall asleep in this chair."

You stop what you're doing and look at him with such a scandalised look that it makes him shrink. "Uhm how about no? I dragged you into this, like hell I let you sleep on the floor!"

Your mother comes back at the right time with a pair of joggers and a shirt in her hands. She gives him a warm smile as she hands him the clothing, instructing him to where the bathroom is. Mattheo takes that as his saving grace to get a moment of his own. He has to admit, your family is a lot. This whole situation is a lot. And he has nobody to blame for it except himself.

Not that he blames himself. He's quite enjoying himself, being with you, meeting your parents and seeing where you grew up. He now gets why you are how you are. How you can shine so bright because your parents do everything to lighten you.

When he comes back you are also changed in quite the same outfit as him. You are sitting on your bed, nervously nibbling on the side of your thumb. He strides towards you and grabs your hand, stopping you from destroying your nailbed and making you look up at him.

"Are you okay", he asks, interlacing your fingers.

You nod with a hum, eyes focused on your interlinked hands. "Yeah... I'm just tired from today." You run a hand over your hair, brushing some stray strands out of your face. "Are you okay?"

Mattheo lets out a light-hearted scoff. "Don't worry about me, lovely. My family is much much worse."

You blink, wanting to ask more. But a knock on your door stops you. Your father stands in the door opening, Victor looming over his shoulder and glaring daggers at Mattheo.

"Will you do your old man a favour and keep the door open? I know it makes you uncomfortable, hun. But I don't think I have to explain why?" He motions with his eyes towards how close the two of you are and with a sigh, you nod.

The house is so old that it creaks and groans with even the slightest breeze. And it freaks you out when you hear it at night. Are you saying that this centuries-old house doesn't have ghosts? Likely.

As your dad walks away, Victor takes a step forward, his jaw taut. "You", he points towards the dark-haired boy, "I'm right next door and these walls aren't as thick as they seem. I will hear everything. No funny business!"

Mattheo sends him a charming smile that you know will irritate Victor. "I promise." But when he turns around when Victor storms away, he shows you his crossed fingers. You let out a giggle and swat him.

After that you take it as a cue to get ready to sleep so you crawl under the covers. Mattheo positions himself between you and the open door and the two of you lay on your backs, staring up at the canopy.

It... feels weird having Mattheo Riddle next to you in your bed. The even weirder feeling is the desire to keep him there.

You turn so you're facing him, your hands tucked under your pillow. "I've been wondering... When you spoke in Parsletongue, what did you say?"

Mattheo tenses slightly before turning towards you, a pink flush heats up his cheeks. His eyes trace every inch of your face, taking in the details; moles, freckles, perfect imperfections. It makes him want to reach out and trace every one of them.

"Oh I don't remember", he says offhandedly, his eyes fleeing yours.

You scoot closer, a mischievous smile on your face. "Yes, you do! Please tell me. It can't be that embarrassing."

His lips part and the same sounds fill the room, raising goosebumps on your arms. "You are... you are the most beautiful person I know and I don't know if I can keep pretending that this is fake."

Your smile melts off your face and you look with wide eyes towards him. An unsure look fills his eyes as his brows knit together. "Say something", he whispers- begs. A hesitant hand reaches out and gets placed on your cheek.

Your heart beats a million miles an hour and every word just escapes your brain. So you do what you have been wanting to do for a while now. And you kiss him. Pressing your lips against his, you close your eyes while your hand travels from his wrist to his shoulder, gripping him tightly.

Mattheo lets out a surprised humph, his eyes wide as he watches your eyes flutter close. He breathes in deeply before kissing you back, pulling you closer.

Two pairs of lips mould against each other while Mattheo's hand slides down and grips your thigh, wrapping your leg around his middle. Your body melts against his as the kiss grows more fierce, lips parting and tongues exploring each other's mouths.

A low growl emits from Mattheo as you part, your chest raising and falling rapidly. He zeros in on your neck and decides then and there how kissable the skin looks and that it needs to be marked.

Your head gets thrown back as Mattheo attacks your neck with kisses, licks and bites and you do your best to suppress the breathy moan that wants to escape you. You bite your bottom lip as your eyes squeeze close.

Mattheo's lips travel down, tracing the shape of your throat with his teeth and he flips the both of you over, hovering above you. He relishes in your bitten raw lips and the half-lidded look you give him. The way your chest raises and makes your shirt tighten... he thanks whatever god there is out there that made this possible.

His admiring takes too long in your opinion and you grab the back of his head, yanking him down so he kisses you again. Mattheo complies and cradles your face, his big hands engulfing your cheeks, feeling the heat underneath them.

He pecks your lips a few times before trailing down, Mattheo's hands finding the hem of your sleep shirt. He glances at you and only continues after a nod. He pushes your shirt up, above your breast while his lips trail from your chin, neck, and collarbones, to your sternum.

When he flattens his tongue tentatively against one of your nipples, a moan escapes you. It makes him smirk against your skin, doing it again.

"Matt... ah!", you squeak out, gripping his shoulder.

His tongue swirls against the nub and one of his hands reaches up, clasping a hand over your mouth to silence the sweet noises pouring out of your mouth. Your tongue swipes over one of his fingers. Mattheo presses the pads of his pointer and middle finger against your tongue before sliding into your mouth.

A 'mmph' escapes you while you suck around his digits, hands trying to ground yourself as everything feels too much; his tongue against your boob, his fingers in your mouth, and something hard pressing against your core.

Your hands find the hem of his shirt and your nails rake up against his bare back. He moans against you and releases your nipple with a 'pop'. He looks at you with dark eyes and swollen lips while he lowers himself towards your core.

While his fingers dance over the elastic of your underwear, you push his fingers out of your mouth. "Matt wait..."

As if your words scorched him, he's off you immediately, his chest raising rapidly and face flushed. "I'm-I'm sorry. I got a little carried away..."

You sit up, pushing your shirt down and shaking your head. "No... please don't- it's okay. I-I enjoyed it too. It's just...", you cradle his face and peck his lips, "I don't want our first time to be in my childhood bedroom and avoid making too much noise."

Mattheo leans into your touch and kisses your palm. You pull him down with you and lay on top of his chest. When you move your legs, you accidentally bump against his boner. You sputter out an apology, feeling bad for blue-balling him.

His hands grab your hips tightly and he presses you closer against his body. He brings his lips towards your ear. "Don't worry about it, Princess. Because when I have the chance, I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget our whole relationship was fake to begin with."

Oh Gods, you created a monster...

Tag list (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch @jolly4holly @daisiesformylove @frogtape @dancing-inasnowglobe @slytheos @undercover-smutlover @reverse-soe @nikkissecretlibrary @moon-struck-meraki @bengbengbengi @justhavingsomefun1 @itsamusical4lifee @genshingeeksworld @y0urm0m12 @alnitakstarsky03 @mel-vaz @slytherinboysappreciation @sailtomarina @bubybubsters @jasmine2105 @abaker74 @lovelyygirl8 @vickykazuya @eltrss @llpovi@m1kasawps @sol3chu @ledtassoo @itsarajr @glittervame

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buckgasms · 11 months

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Dr's. Barnes and Rogers (Part 1)

Don't worry I am already writing part two I just needed to set the scene before we get to the goooood stuff 🩷

This is doctor kink territory y'all 💦

Tagging @biteofcherry for being a wonderful enabler. Thank you for bringing this out of me and many others with one simple question 😂

@zonkie-bee

Just note this part contains mentions of pregnancy, fertility talk and a gaslighting ex-husband (he's not in it tho). If that might trigger you just give me a day and the next chapter will be just pure filth.

You sat in the waiting room of the Barnes & Rogers Clinic, feet tapping nervously. You were here to have a fertility check up, already feeling like you knew the sad truth.

Your ex husband had been certain that you couldn't have children, that the process of trying to have a baby had been made more painful for your failures. He was a dick. But the doubt and worries continued to plague you.

Finally a friend gently suggested you go to the best fertility clinic in the city. Then you could get actual answers and real solutions. It took some persuading but you decided to try it. What did you have to lose?

At that moment the office door clicked open and Dr. Barnes popped his head out. "Are you my 10am appointment?" You nod and he steps back, and you shuffle in, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are at how absolutely gorgeous he is.

You take a seat on the comfy couch, as he sits in an armchair across from you. You try to relax as he welcomes you and picks up his paperwork.

"So, your papers say you're worried about your ability to conceive? Are you married or trying for a baby currently?" He asks, a strand of hair falling into his face as he looks at you with kind, professional concern.

"Um... No not married anymore. That's um.... That's why we split. I just wanted to know...if it was...me? My ex said.... It was me..."

He nods, a glimmer of anger seems to cross his features. "It's never anyone's fault sweetheart..." you smile a little, a flutter in your stomach but then he moves on. He asks questions about your diet, physical activity, and of course your previous attempts at trying to get pregnant. It brings up some painful memories and he is very sympathetic and gentle with you.

"I know this is hard, you're doing so well. Don't worry sweetheart, we'll sort all this out together ok?" You look at his sweet, handsome face and smile. You feel better already. After a further few questions he leads you into his consultation room and explains the tests he's about to conduct.

The big examination bed with stirrups looks a little intimidating but his hand presses at your lower back and guides you with more confidence. "I need to take a sample, which might be a little uncomfortable but I'll do my best to be gentle ok. Just take off your skirt and underwear and get comfortable in the stirrups." He heads out of the room and you hear him chatting to another man in the corridor.

After a few moments you are legs akimbo and feeling a bit ridiculous. But the leather beneath you is soft and smooth, and the room is warm so you feel as comfortable as you'll ever be. He comes back in and he clears his throat at the view of you.

From his perspective the most beautiful perfect angel is laying spread out on his chair, her most intimate parts there for him to enjoy, but for you, you just feel nervous.

"Ok sweetheart, just relax while I check you over. Don't be embarrassed about any reactions you might have. Totally normal." You huff out a laugh and scoot down at his guidance, goosebumps breaking out as you feel his warm breath fan over your intimate area.

The way he probes you makes you bite your lip as you try not to moan. It's honestly the best pelvic exam you've ever had. By the time it comes for him to take a sample you are almost totally unaware of why you are there in the first place.

When he announces he's finished you are mortified to hear yourself whine in disappointment. Thankfully he either doesn't here or pretends he doesn't so you can chide yourself for being such an embarrassment as you get dressed.

"Ok sweetheart, I'll give you a call once we get the results." You shake his soft hand and he squeezes it gently as you smile and make you way out of his office.

⚕️

So here you were a few weeks later. You felt so nervous because when Dr Barnes called you he didn't actually tell you the results. He just told you to come in because he needed to discuss things face to face.

Finally the door clicked open and you were greeted by the handsome face of Dr Barnes. You smiled tightly as you walked in but were surprised to see another doctor sitting in the office on the couch. "This is Dr. Rogers, I wanted to have him here for this consultation, I hope that's ok?"

You nodded,trying to ignore how gorgeous both these doctors were before dropping your bag to the floor and sinking into the seat. It must be really bad if it takes two hot doctors to tell you what's written on that paper.

"Are you ok sweetheart?" Barnes asks, looking concerned at you, reading your mood as Dr Rogers turns towards you, his face also reading concern. Your eyes well up and you sink backwards into the cushions. "Can you just get it over with and tell me I'll never.... That I can't...." You broke into sobs and they both came over to you, rubbing gentle hands over your back and shoulders.

"Oh honey! No! I'm so sorry, it's not like that at all!" Barnes curses and squeezes your shoulder. You hiccup a sob and look up at them both. "What do you mean?" Dr Rogers tuts and grabs the paper from his colleague. "What my partner has stupidly failed to mention to you is that, you are in fact very much able to have babies and you don't have anything at all to worry about in terms of your fertility..."

You glance between them both, Barnes looking sheepish and Rogers looking concerned before collapsing into a combination of sobs and giggles. You can't stop laughing from sheer joy and tears of relief slip down your cheeks. Both of the doctors chuckle in surprise at your reaction. Once you calm down a more comfortable mood fills the room.

"I've always wanted a family of my own. Thank you, I feel like I can have that again now..." You smile at them both and they smile back, "just need to find the right man huh?"

"Well what about another route?" Doctor Rogers draws your attention his way and you cock your eyebrow at him. "What would that be?"

He settles back emanating confidence and professionalism, Barnes reclaims his seat and watches. "We have a trial programme, you can sign up for an insemination and we will monitor you from now until the birth of the child or children. There is considerable remuneration and you can even be provided with new accommodation should you desire it..."

You were dumbfounded. You'd never heard of anything like this before and it certainly sounded life changing, but pretty amazing at the same time. "There has to be a catch?" You say suspiciously, unable to believe this is actually real.

"Well, the insemination process is... revolutionary so it requires some open minded thinking..." Barnes says and you feel a bloom of excitement in your stomach as he looks at you.

"And once the baby is born? Is there still help or monitoring? Or are we just out in the world alone?"

You chuckle but they seem to take it quite seriously. "Absolutely not! We... I mean the programme is very interested in the life span of the child. Besides if you are successful you might want to have another perhaps?" Rogers tries to act casual but you feel like you've stumbled on something there.

Barnes hands you an envelope. "Inside is all the information plus the potential candidates for the donors. Take it home, read it and if you want to take part, call me. If not, no harm done."

⚕️

At home you spent a little while pretending to ignore the envelope but finally you caved and had a read through.

There was very little information about the medical procedures other than the things you might expect. Thorough examination process, compatibility, tests and so on. The next set of documents were mostly about the remuneration which almost made your eyes pop out of your head. Thirty Thousand dollars for the first year! All medical costs covered! It also detailed the new accommodation which sounded like the most luxurious apartment on earth. It was almost too good to resist as you looked around your rented studio flat, your instant ramen going cold as you read.

Finally there was a piece of paper that detailed the potential donors. Only two in fact. A tall blonde, with blue eyes, physically fit and a doctor! The other was a slightly shorter brunette, with blue eyes, physically fit.....and a doctor....

Oh...

⚕️

Part two

#doctor barnes #doctor rogers #stucky x reader #doctor bucky #doctor steve rogers

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fixyourwritinghabits · 7 days

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No Such Thing As Filler

Okay, so yes, this is another post based on something I saw that irritated me, but it seems like this idea keeps coming up, so I need y'all to internalize this. There is no such thing as filler in good writing. None. Do not approach your work thinking you have to fill space in a story, I will beat you with this wiffle bat. Don't ask me where I got the wiffle bat. Don't even worry about it.

The idea of filler comes from a very particular place - when an anime or TV show has to fit in a certain number of episodes, but doesn't have enough content (hasn't caught up with the manga, the source material isn't long enough, etc) to cover those episodes. An episode has to be written, but the characters can't really progress, and so are given something else to do. Many a trope has come from these episodes, and they're sometimes necessary. Filler in this context is something that makes sense.

The dark side of filler is the idea that you need some space between Big Event 1 and Big Event 2 in your story, therefore you need throw anything in there to take up space and make your word count. This is a mistake I've made and I've seen plenty of other writers do it too, but it's a huge waste of your time. You do need something between those big action scenes, but you should always be writing to accomplish something.

Instead of thinking of that writing as filler, try to approach it with three things in mind:

Move Forward With Character Development and Backstory - Your characters barely survived a huge gunfight, and they won't encounter the big bad again for another few chapters. How do your characters decompress from that gunfight, and what does that say about them? Did a cocky character go in guns blazing, only to be deeply shaken by how a real fight works? Did that fight spark a moment of deep trauma for the main character that they have to reflect on afterwards?

Filling this space with meaningless scenes is a huge waste of opportunity. Think about how to dive deeper into your characters.

Move Forward With Plot and Subplot Development - The bad guy beat the heroes to the stolen gem, but they left behind a clue to why they want it. However that clue could reveal some painful truths about the protagonist's beloved great aunt... Carmen Sandiego???

A major goal following a big action scene is having the characters figure out what to do with what they've learned and what to do next. It's where romance subplots or secret relative subplots make progress, when truths are revealed and next steps are taken. You can absolutely do this in any setting - a flirty conversation while at the battling cages, a tense moment of feelings while hunting down a wayward chicken - but your main goal is making progress for both the characters and plot.

Move Forward With Worldbuilding - Worldbuilding has it challenges, believe me. You don't want to write a chapter on how an airship works only to have to cut it later. But you should still try to flesh out your world, and you should do so with the perspective of how to use that worldbuilding to your benefit. Maybe a critical scene hinges on the main characters knowing how that airship works, or that lake your main character often stares at is the setting of the big Act 3 Boat Battle. The weather can play into both perspective and emotions. Knowing what the main character's house and car looks like can reflect a lot on their personal character or backstory.

When you're struggling with a scene or a chapter, rather than writing filler, take a few steps back and think. What can you establish with your worldbuilding? What can you reveal about your characters through their dialogue and actions? What subplot could you explore or add in these between moments?

Filler from a fandom perspective - Now let me make this clear - if you're writing a fanfic just to have a cute moment between the characters you like, or you really want to force everyone to do that weird Twilight baseball scene, that's fine. You don't need a grand goal to achieve for every story, there's no need to justify your fanwork in any way other than you wanted to do it.

But I'd also argue fanwork doesn't fall under the filler label either - something you create, be it a character snapshot or a 'what if the gang meets Slenderman' parody, isn't taking up meaningless space. It's something fun you did that you and others enjoy, and there's nothing wasteful or pointless about that.

#writing advice #plotting #filler #writblr #the wiffle bat is a metaphor #for uuuuh something that sounds cool and interesting #let's go with that

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no-nameno-face · 1 year

Text

Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)

TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC.

Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)

Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!

I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home.

Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head.

My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip.

“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound.

She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch.

“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.

“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?”

“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side.

I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters.

“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”

“With Jesse right?”

“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach. “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.

I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!”

“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.

Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her.

“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.

“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”

“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts.

“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles

“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.

She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.

“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman.

Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”

Jesus Christ.

“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words.

“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.”

Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection.

“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously.

“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.

She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds.

“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!” I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face.

Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects.

Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it, encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.

“All right. Your turn.”

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie smut #ai audios #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n

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