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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ The Prequel ] || [ Chapter 2 ]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 1: Kyle

All of last night you and your friends spent time tinkering with your profile, putting up the sexiest pics of you that you had, some of them from Instagram, some from your camera roll, and filling in all the fields of info you could…

And then you started checking out the profiles, definitely judging and roasting the men that popped on your screen (blame the alcohol), but always swiping right, regardless of what you (or them) thought of the most recent man on the screen.

But, once they left, you turned off the notifications and alerts from the app and went to sleep. You had acquiesced to downloading the app and making a profile, but the last thing you wanted was to be on that app constantly and get bombarded with DMs and Likes/Super-Likes…

The next day came and went and, as you sat in your kitchen after work, unboxing your take-out boxes of dinner, your group chat pinged with a text from Leah.

leah: How's Tinder going? 👀

You bit your lip and sighed as you typed out a response:

you: haven’t touched it all day bc i was at work. leah: Better touch it then!!

Rolling your eyes, you set the phone down on the table again, and locked the screen, as you began stirring the noodles you bought with your chopsticks.

Mia joined not long after with her own opinion.

mia: ive got a good feeling about today! ur gonna find a hot bloke i know it 🫶 im sending good energyyyy!

“Yeah, right…” You grumbled. But, once again, you acquiesced and clicked on the little flame-shaped app icon.

The app lagged at first, for a good 5 seconds, and then a bunch of DMs and Like notifications pinged your phone.

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself… Oh, how predictable men are… They see a picture showing just a bit more skin and they try to chat the person up. But, at the same time, it made you feel quite good…

You skim through the DMs you’ve already gotten, over 99 of them… And none of them tickled your fancy. Plenty of them were variations of “Oi.”, “Hey.”, “Hi.”... Not to mention the ones that were just directly asking you to meet up right from the get-go.

Returning to the groupchat, you text your friends a screenshot of the 99+ counter on both the DMs and the Likes, which causes them to break into cheers at you.

leah: Look at you!!!! mia: i knew it. you: not into any of them tho. mia: then go back to swiping girl!

Biting back a little groan, you returned to Tinder and flicked onto the Swiping page.

Surprisingly, now that you were alone (and kind of doing it against your will), it was a lot easier for you to not get lost over-analyzing the profiles and simply… mindlessly moving your finger.

Right.

Ew, that’s a catfish of a famous male model, Report.

Right.

“Kyle.” You said softly as you read the name on your screen. He looked adorable, with a squinted ‘the-sun-is-in-my-eyes’ smile. “29… A soldier… a Brummie…” You mused as you slipped a Chinese roll past your lips and chewed.

You took a screenshot of his profile and sent it quickly to your friends’ groupchat before you returned to Tinder. As you clicked through his photo gallery, you saw the push notifications pinging at the top of the screen.

leah: HE’S STUNNING! 😫 mia: 👀👀👀👀👀 mia: smash.

Chuckling, you continue going through his pictures. “Holiday photo, holiday photo, I seriously hope those are his nephews or something, mandatory picture in uniform, and… JESUS CHRIST, a warning would’ve been NICE?!” You said to no one in particular as your jaw dropped open and you almost dropped your Chinese roll.

“Bloody hell… Is that sweat or baby oil?” You asked yourself as you looked at his slick, bare chest in the mirror selfie he uploaded. “And is he cupping his-” You stopped that train of thought before it could go too far from the station.

Clicking the arrow in the corner you finally brought his profile into full-screen and proceeded to find yourself chuckling at his bio.

His pictures were all wonderful, he looked like a guy who took care of himself, and he was funny which was the best part.

Taking a deep breath, you press the Green heart at the bottom. A squeal escapes your mouth when the phone screen suddenly changes to the darker ‘It’s a Match!’ screen with Kyle.

Your eyes widen in surprise and, just as you press the DM button, intent on coming up with something to message him, you notice it.

Kyle: bought some shoes from a drug dealer this morning. don’t know what he laced them with but I’ve been tripping over myself all day and now think ive finally fallen for you 👀

The cheesy pick-up line has you closing your eyes and exhaling through your nose. It’s starting off terribly… But he’s the first bloke you felt inclined to text… That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

you: you fell out of a helicopter… i dont think its the shoes. i’m starting to think ur just clumsy. Kyle: holy shit you’re not a bot! let’s goooo you: a bot? you really thought that? Kyle: when someone has posted pics as cute as yours you cant help but have that worry in the back of your mind 😅 Kyle: or that ur a catfish 🤷‍♂️ you: i promise you im neither. you: and thank you. you’re cute too. Kyle: thats exactly what a bot/catfish would say 🙄 you: well how would a human talk then?? Kyle: cant tell you bc then ur gonna machine learn and start doing it you: well then how else am i supposed to prove im not either?? Kyle: let me take you out. let me get a proper good look at you. you: was that all a ploy to invite me out?? 🫠 Kyle: first time on tinder? you: that obvious huh? Kyle: a little. Kyle: so is that a yes? you: I’ll think about it. Kyle: i can work with that. 🥴 Kyle: hmu whenever youd like. no pressure.

Maybe you would hit him up later… Once you gained enough courage to go through with the whole ‘rebound’ thing.

Biting your lip, you click off the DMs and return to the Swiping page…

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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winterarmyy · 5 months

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My Person

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, wee bit of angst, bucky is so adorable in this I WANT HIM SO BAD, also he is a bit feral. I feel like he can be more feral than this but you know, he doesn't wanna scare her away lol. This is just a result from surge of need so might not be too much of plot but I hope you enjoy your reading, anyway.

Inspiration: This post right here by @black-cat-2

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Sam took notice on every single crooks and corners as he followed Bucky's dragging footsteps from behind. It wasn't that he didn't want to help him but Bucky refused the offer right on the bat, saying that the serum will fix him up sooner or later.

The aftermath of their final battle with the flagsmasher was chaotic to say the least. With the splitting sides of public opinions of the new Captain America and the whispers about how the former winter soldier saved a bunch of civilian tonight had been the talk of the town.

But both Sam and Bucky decided not to think of it too much, especially when both were exhausted from the fight. Not to mention Bucky was injured. Although Sam knew damn well that the soldier can managed himself to a hotel to rest for the night like he always does, but as a worried friend, or rather a babysitter some would say, he insisted to accompany Bucky all the way through.

And Bucky was not in the mood to argue; Sam is as equally stubborn as Steve used to be, so he let the man do whatever he wants.

It was clear Sam was suspicious of where the hell did this terminator brought him to, but mostly he was curious. He thought he would just accompany him to the nearest hotel but nope. After taking an Uber, the next thing he knew, Bucky was leading him into this apartment building, that was obviously not his.

"Last time I checked your apartment was in Brooklyn. When did you get a place here?" Sam asked as Bucky stopped at one of the identical looking doors.

"It's not mine" Bucky replied truthfully as he removed the glove from his fleshed hand and pressed his thumb at the top of the door handle.

Sam eyed him with a look on his face when he sassed at him, "Said the guy who is currently unlocking the doors with his fingerprint."

Bucky simply rolled his eyes before the chiming sound alerts that the door was unlocked. Bucky opened the door to let Sam inside before he himself got in after him. "Seriously, man. If I knew you can afford having two apartments I would've asked you to pay for tonight's dinner. That's the least you can do..." Sam's words died as his eyes scanned the apartment.

Whatever he was expecting the apartment to look like, it was far from it. He surely was not expecting the place to be fully decorated with complete set of furniture in every area of the room. Whether it is the living room area, or the huge kitchen that was also equipped with built-in oven.

Even with the lack of light, Sam could see the color pallette on the walls were definitely not what Bucky would go for. The sentimetal trinkets on the shelves, the sweet fragrant of the scented candles; everything was the very opposite of what Bucky's apartment in Brooklyn looks like, feels like.

This, it felt like home. Warm and inviting. Quiet and serene.

"You know what? I take that back. Whose house have you broke us into?" Sam asked, almost in awe rather than shocked, "I know for a fact that this ain't your house."

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he remove his tactical gears, "I didn't say it was mine, remember? Or flying with the pigeons in the sky had made you forgot how to undertand human language?" there was an unfiltered sarcasm in his tone that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.

So obviously he got defensive and unknowingly increase his volume as he countered, "Woah woah, that was uncalled for. And for your information pigeons can't fly as fast a my wings, and rest assured that I--"

Bucky swiftly stomped towards him, eyes wide almost in anger, while his metal hand reached to cover Sam's mouth, "Can you shut the fuck up, she's probably asleep and your noisy ass will wake--"

"Bucky?" A tiny yet groggy voice interrupted the conversation causing both of them to turn their attention to the source. The figure peeped itself from the bedroom, her uncertainty made it that only half of her body was revealed through the doorway.

Her squinting eyes indicates how recent she was woken up from her sleep and Bucky flashed a quick glared at Sam for that. Sam simply shrug with his hands the air as a response. He was still confused who is this woman and why were they in her house.

Bucky's tight features softens as he called for her, "Hey, babydoll. What are you doing up?"

Recognizing that voice anywhere her feet made her way to him, "Heard some noises." She answered shortly as her knuckles find her eyes and rubbed it lightly. The closer she gets, the clearer Bucky can see the dark circles under her eyes, signifying how much she was lacking of sleep.

His heart squeeze a little at the sight, "M'sorry, sweetheart." it was as if their bodies were magnets that they naturally found each other. Bucky opened his arms wide for her to find her rightful place in his embrace.

"It's okay" she mumbled against his sturdy chest. "Welcome home." She continued.

You'd be surprise to know how much the former winter soldier absolutely adore the feeling of her lips moving against his skin. Even if it was blocked by the fabric of his shirt. It always felt good and he swore he could not get enough of it.

Bucky leaned down on top of her head, inhaling the strawberry yogurt scent of her shampooed hair, "Yes. I am home, indeed." His hugged got tighter, crushing her just enough to make those pretty little sounds slipped her from lips.

Strings of hushed moan kept purring in her throat when Bucky lightly swayed her from side to side; his fleshed hand drawing invisible circles on the back of her waist, while his metal hand gently squeeze the back of her neck.

If she let him pamper her more than this, they'd probably forget that Sam was in the room. Unabashedly had his mouth agape at the sight in front of him. He was not sure whether he wanted to look away or to continue staring because no amount of explanation will suffice to answer his questions.

Peeking from Bucky's shoulder, she smiled warmly as she finally acknowledge the unexpected guest, "You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you."

She tried to wiggle an escape from Bucky arms, but it was no avail; he was not planning to let her go any time soon. She ended up dragging the enormous koala bear who was stuck on her back as she offered Sam a handshake, introducing herself.

"Good things I hope." Sam took her hand and lightly shake it as she replied, "Of course." As much as he wanted to keep his eye contact with her, it was extremely hard when the grumpy super soldier that he knew was basically melting in crook of her neck.

"I don't want to be rude but the two of you are..." Sam purposely left his words hanging, hoping that one of them would finish the sentence before he let out his assumption, however both of them remained silent. The woman was blinking at him confused, while Bucky was practically still drooling over the her.

"...Lovers?" Sam ended his sentence with an uncertain tone.

Both of them went rigid to the question but before Bucky could say anything, she answered first, "No!" She almost shouted, taking a deep breath before she rephrase her answer, "No. I mean yes. We're not... like that."

"So, you guys are friends then?" Sam quirked an eyebrow to her answer, and seeing Bucky's silence, he guessed that the super soldier might liked her more than just 'friends'.

"Yup, we are. We first met when Bucky was on the run from Hydra, before you guys found him. It's a long story, really." And by the time she explained the shorten version of their story, Bucky finally drifted his attention to Sam, a deep frown decorated his brows as he was mentally asking, "How much longer are you going to stand there? Get the fuck out."

Sam should be offended by his silent orders but considering he came in the middle of the night, uninvited, he realized that he should leave them be,"Then, let that be a reason for us to meet again. You can tell me all about this meet-cute of yours later. I don't want to keep you away from him any longer. Especially when he is staring daggers at me."

She lightly tapped on Bucky's arms, and quick frown at him followed after as she non-verbally asking him stop glaring at Sam. Needless to say, Sam removed himself from the scene after they, or rather she, bid him goodbye.

As soon as the doors closed, Bucky has her back pressed against the door, wasting no time than to capture her lips. A gasped from her made it easy for him to slip his tongue inside. He kissed her slow yet so hungrily as if he was starved of the taste of her sweet mouth against his.

Bucky broke the kiss momentarily just to whisper, "I missed you so much, babydoll." With his thigh in between her legs, he guided her clothed core to slowly hump against him. "Missed you, too." Her beautiful moans only encourage his cock to swell even more than it already was.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky let her catch a breath as his glazed eyes adored her soft features. He still remembered the day when he first met her. When he escaped from Hydra's control, he was determined to keep his life down low. Don't attract to much attention, follow the schedule and stick to rules.

And his schedule was never interesting, it was always:

- write his journal entry

- find/do odd and non-permenant jobs for money

- grocery shopping and cooking

- watch the news

- and mostly just stay at home

Obviously, Bucky knows how to use the internet and all those modern devices that they have nowadays, but he never understand them; the 'social media' and the 'viral' things were never really appealing to him. So one day he decided to pay a visit to a small local library; hoping to find fimiliar solace in books instead.

What are the odds that both of them reach for the same book at the same time? After the multiple exchange of: 'Oh, I'm sorry, here take it.' 'No, you take.' 'No, please I insist.' They ended up meeting on a common ground; making a decision to sit down and read together. Turns out, spending a few hours with her at the library was the most peace he had since forever.

Bucky had a strict routine and rules. But the moment she asked him if he want to spend more time with her while she was there, he was ready to break all of it. And he did; for 7 days straight.

She was his first sense of freedom. His first choice in life.

Though, back then he was on a run, for presumably a lifetime, while she was on business trip for a week. So, they lost contact after that, especially when Bucky was running around with the Avengers and fighting aliens, but fate seemed to be on their side when they were reunited again in New York.

It's a miracle that she even recognized him. Little did he knew, he wasn't the only one who got hooked on the first few hours of that reading session had.

Though, he was extremely grateful that she reach out the moment she recognized him; no hesitant, no doubt. Just a confident and cheerful shout of his name in middle of the park that he walks through everyday.

The first thing that came out from her mouth after calling out his name was a compliment of his new hair cut and how she can see his beautiful eyes more clearer now. And that alone had made Bucky absolutely red in blush.

Weeks after that, she often joined him with his daily walk, making it their routine instead of just his. And months into this newly founded 'friendship', they found solace in each other's arms, comfort in each other's touch, and this quickly become their new favourite activity to do together.

Though none of them ever actually discuss their status but their body language suggest that they are more than just friends.

Especially with the way Bucky was rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on her clit; so desperate yet so gentle. Just like how he always does when he makes love to her. But, tonight he felt different. Maybe he was just needy or maybe it was the way she admit that they were not lovers when Sam asked about their relationship.

It was true. But, it felt so wrong.

"Am I just a friend to you, doll? Bucky leaned forward, his forehead met hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.

His tongue briefly passed in between his lips as he spreads her legs further, revealing her dripping cunt for his display, "Do your friends touch you like this, hmm?" His husky whisper as he rubbed his hardened length in between her slit, brushing against her clit.

"Do your friends kiss you all over like me?" She moaned breathily, as he bit and kiss the softness of her breasts; easily leaving his marks as if she was his to claim.

And without any warning, his cock slammed straight into her hole, stretching the walls to his size causing her to yelp in painful pleasure. Bucky let out a satisfied groan as the tightness of her around him, "Do your friends fuck this tight little pussy with their cock like me?"

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from pulling and pushing his hips to meet hers, his fingertips was practically digging into the flesh of her hips, moving her in time with his thrusts, "What am I to you, baby?" Honestly, it was hard for her to form complete thoughts, let alone reply to his question when he was fucking her so good.

Gone was the gentleman she knew for the past years, the koala bear that she spent hours on the couch cuddling to a movie marathon with. Now, there was only this feral beast, hungry for pleasure, insatiable to devour her whole body and soul.

Each roll of his hips pushed her further from her sober thoughts, focusing only on the wild look on his face, his huge body hunched over hers, his throbbing cock kissing her cervix. Any answer she was trying to convey was lost at the tip of her tongue; there were just the mewling mess, as she fell apart underneath him, compliant to his every thrust as his cock ramming within her. "Tell me. Come on, now. Use your words."

Bucky was almost losing his mind, from how bad he wanted to cum and how stubborn she was for not answering his questions. He pushed her legs up and wide as his thrust punctuated to his words, "What. Am. I. To. You?"

It took her a couple of long moans at his roughness, before she could utter a single word, the only correct answer to his question, "Mine."

He groaned approvingly, pulling back just enough to slide his metal between their bodies. "I'm yours?" Those hard, cold fingers that she loved so much was quick to find her clit. She was already sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and now was he relentlessly assaulting the swollen nub, "Then, does that make you mine as well huh, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Bucky. You're mine. And I'm yours. All yours. Pleasee"

Her back arches off the bed, toes curling tight as her nails dug into his skin and across his back; To have some kind of a leverage to hold as the overwhelming pleasure surged through her body.

"Yeah, that's right, babygirl. You're mine and mine alone. Mine to love, mine to fuck. Yes?" Bucky taunted her with both his words and the way he rutted into her wet pussy, as if he himself was not close to the egde.

The sound of skin to skin clashing intertwined with the sounds of her pussy squelching around his cock, his girth kept pounding straight into her sweet spot to the point that only lewd whimpers of plead were spewing out of her lips, "Yes, yes yes. Oh Bucky please,, fuck,, I'm cumming!"

"Cum, sweetheart. Let me feel that tight little pussy of mine cum around my cock" He hummed approvingly as he picked a deeper and harsher pace, causing her mouth to fall wide open and her eyes screwed shut as she felt her whole body shook as she came. "Yeah,, that's it, doll. That's my girl. fuckkk,, feels so good baby, gonna make me cum inside you if you keep choking me like that."

"Please, Bucky?" A breathy moan of his name passed her lips as she her walls spasm with need. Bucky groan to the sensation, he was sure that her pussy was already full of his precum, considering how it has been leaking inside her for so long, "Want my cum in you, pretty girl?"

Batting her eyes through her lashes, she stared up at him, pleading., "Need it, please."

"Oh fuck, you got it, sweetheart." Throwing his head back in pleasure, shutting his eyes solely to focus of the feeling of her wet and tight cunt, Bucky's pace quicken as he chased his high, "Hmmm,, fuckk,, gonna stuff you full. You'll leaking for days, babydoll. Then, I'm gonna keep filling you until you can't live without my cum inside your pussy."

Hearing such dirty confessiom only triggers her to near orgasm, "Yess pleasee i want it. Need it, bucky." Surely enough she came again when he hit that special spot inside her.

"Ahh,, fuck ahhh,, I'm cumming shit pussy so good m'cumming fuckkkk", Bucky couldn’t even stop himself from rutting in and out of her sweet pussy as his cock pulsed, especially when her cunt was sucking him in deeper.

His head fall down to watch his cock disappear inside her before squeezing it shut again when the white spurt of cum shoots against her walls. His jaw was loose as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape to allow his loud groans contaminated the silenced room.

His thick endless cum warm her insides and the honeyed moans hanging off her lips to its own accord as Bucky hunched over her frame, pressing his face in crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she was. After awhile, a broken sound of his voice stopped the silence, "Do you really mean it?"

He refused to look at her in the eyes, afraid of the rejection that might come his way but she proved him wrong by holding him by his cheeks, leading his eyes to align with hers,

"Bucky. You, my dear, are my bestfriend; you are my heart, you are my person. And there is no one in this world that I'd rather spend my whole life with besides you." Her words was nothing but the truth and Bucky knew that.

His heart swelled with joy yet he didn't know how to express it other than, "I love you, doll..." there was pause as if he was gathering the pieces of his soul to offer it to her, "...So much."

And she accepted it with her whole heart, "I love you too, Bucky."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I was gone for awhile but never too long. Hope you enjoy this little drabble 👀

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut

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letoasai · 10 months

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dp x dc Chronos part 2

Part 1 and Part 3

The Justice League sat in the Watchtower, some of them at least. The meeting was meant to be a quick one, only certain members in attendance to make sure they were all on the same page after the debrief of the last mission. Not all of them were necessary and most were usually busy.

Today Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern were in the middle of wrapping things up when the alert sounded. The siren blared twice before the red lights in the corner of each room flashed in an emergency.

“What in the world…” Flash grumbled but was obviously the first to the controls to look for the problem. None of the main alarms had been triggered, none of the doors messed with. No unusual motion noted in parts of the station that were currently vacant. “Weird.”

“What is it?” Batman was next beside him, arms crossed as he peered at the screen with narrowed eyes.

“It’s the sensors.” Flash said. “We’re picking up some kind of interference.”

“Way up here? What kind?” Green Lantern asked, he’d moved to one of the wide windows of the viewing deck as if he would be able to see something approaching. As things were, there was nothing but the normal vastness of space with Earth to one side.

“No idea.” Flash said. “Never seen something like this before.”

“Any idea on a location?” Superman asked, appearing by Green Lantern’s side.

Flash just clucked his tongue, hitting buttons much faster than a normal person. It was almost an irritation that he had to wait for the computer to keep up with him. “I mean, there’s nothing exactly to track yet.”

“An anomaly then.” Wonder Woman said, leaning back against the conference table they’d all just been sitting around. “Something natural?”

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Batman said, tone skeptical as he gazed at the screens.

“Gonna side with that bat on this one.” Flash said, “It’s more like a warning before anything happens. Something setting off the sensors but nothing else? Feels like it was on purpose.”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes. “What, like something’s knocking before they make themselves known?”

Before anyone could even offer their opinion on what they thought of something so ridiculous, a spark of green ripped through the air like lightning. Just as quickly it spread out into an obvious portal. Every member of the Justice League sprang into position, circling the phenomenon to block it in from every direction. Things like this shouldn’t have been possible, but it wasn’t the first time an intruder had gotten creative to get inside the Watchtower.

Without any fanfare, a man stepped out. They presumed it was a man anyway. He was dressed in mostly shades of purple other than his leather boots and gloves. He was covered by a cloak and hood, but when he looked up, it was hard to say what about him was the most unsettling. The red eyes. The blue skin. The pendulum clock that set back into his chest so far that he could only be missing crucial organs.

“Who are you?” Superman demanded, quickly trying to assess if there would be a fight or not.

“How did you get here?” Batman said right after, gravel tone somehow more frightening because he was calm.

The intruder just gestured with his thumb at the portal behind him. “Thought it was rather obvious.”

“Your purpose?” Wonder Woman asked, looking relaxed but her body was tense and ready to react in a moments notice.

“My purpose?” He chuckled quietly. In his hand was a staff they’d almost missed before, the top of it cradling a clock. It seemed to be a theme given the number of watches and clocks he wore. “I’ve come to call in a favor. The Justice League owes me several.”

“We owe you? Ppfff. Yeah right. We don’t even know who you are.” Flash rolled his eyes.

The intruder turned to the Flash, his brow raised. “Speedster, with the amount of times you’ve dabbled in the time stream, you alone owe me your life a fair few times.”

“Time, huh?” Green Lantern looked him over. There were a lot of clocks... “Guess that’s your schtick.”

He chuckled again. “I go by many names, only one will be relevant to you today.” He turned his attention onto Wonder Woman who squared up under his gaze. If she was going to be his focus then she’d take him head on.

“And?” She arched a brow at him. “What name may we call you?”

He looked amused, red eyes filled with mirth. “You, Diana, may call me grandfather.”

The room stilled, the others looking around in varying degrees of confusion while Wonder Woman just paled.

“Chronos. God of time…” she muttered, making it very clear to the team what they were dealing with. A God.

“I go by master of time these days, but yes. I am that Chronos. I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn down but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.” Chronos said, the minute and hour hands on his staff moving strangely.

“You’re a god, and you come to us for help?” Batman asked, unimpressed no matter the glowers he was being sent by the others.

“You are the Justice League, aren’t you?” Chronos looked pleased. “Righting wrongs. Defending Earth. Justice is in the name and everything.”

He didn’t talk like a god. He didn’t even talk as formally as Wonder Woman herself tended to occasionally.

“Doing tasks for you is asking for trouble.” Wonder Woman muttered. She’d heard stories, so many stories.

Chronos shrugged. “Time is messy. Keeping it in line is difficult. Especially when there are those who mess with it who should not.” He was not above verbally throwing speedsters under the bus.

“What do you want?” Green Lantern asked, obviously suspicious but paying very close attention.

“Simple.” Chronos answered, still looking at his granddaughter. “You will take custody of your uncle for a time. He needs a safe place to rest and live.”

The silence that followed was loud, no one knowing what to make of that. Wonder Woman herself looked puzzled.

“Are you claiming a sibling of Zeus needs a babysitter?”

Chronos hummed. “He is my son though he holds no biological relation to your father, i suppose.”

“Then how is he her uncle?” Flash asked, with a hint of sass.

“You can ask Batman how it works.” Chronos mused, saying all he would say on the matter but that was enough.

Wonder Woman couldn’t fathom what kind of person her grandfather would see fit to adopt. “Are you going to tell me more?”

“Telling you more would imply you were agreeing to the task.”

She tsked. “None of your word games. I want to know what i could be walking into.”

Chronos never once looked threatened or put out, he did however, appear to look a few years older than he had when he’d first appeared. “He recently needed to be removed from his home for his safety. He can easily visit me but staying with me long term at this time is not beneficial to him for health reasons.”

Superman frowned. “Removed from his home? How old is he?”

“Sixteen. If that is all you need to know, i will fetch him. It may take some time for him to regain consciousness.” Chronos said.

“He’s been hurt?” Batman was frowning at the thought, looking more and more unhappy as the conversation progressed.

“I did say he was removed from his home.” Chronos said, almost flippantly as he stepped back into his glowing green portal. It remained open, everyone exchanging looks.

“Diana, is this a good idea?” Superman asked, willing to accept her judgment. Greek gods were more her wheelhouse.

“Chronos was a titan. Is a titan?” She frowned. “His power is immense for a being thought to be killed.”

“Something about him is off.” Batman agreed. “He was not worried at all. That is someone aware they have the upper hand.”

Wonder Woman just nodded her agreement. Chronos was the god of time. There was no telling what he knew. “I’ve never met him before.”

“Hell of a time for family reunions.” Flash snarked, heading back to the controls to see what readings they could get on the floating portal. It was obvious each of them wanted to study it in their own way. Scans and samples were first on their minds but it was clearly some kind of magic they weren’t familiar with.

It was almost a shame there wasn’t a single member from JLD currently in the Watchtower. They might have been able to provide answers.

Before much of anything could be done, Chronos returned, somehow looking several years younger than when he first appeared. In his arms was a lanky teen, cradled carefully as if he were fragile. He was equally a sight that left the League speechless. He wasn’t blue, in fact he looked more or less human other that the freckles that shined.

Superman was the one to immediately note they were constellation patterned.

His hair was a stark white that wisped and flowed as if he were under water. His clothes were strange, a detailed variation of an old hazmat suit, all done in black and white. Floating above his head was a crown that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to be on fire or covered in ice. It bobbed back and forth and even did a slow flip in the air but never left the area about the boy’s head.

When no one uttered a word, Chronos took that as permission to begin the introductions. “Diana, this is your uncle. Danny Phantom. Son of the Stars. The Personification of Balance. The Ghost King. High King of the Infinite Realm.”

“He’s a king?” Batman frowned. “He’s a boy.”

“He could be both, Bats. He’s got a crown.” Flash chuckled softly.

Chronos shared his amusement. “I did say he was only sixteen.” The god paused for a moment as the teen twisted in his arms, his face pressed against Chronos’ shoulder and a hand lightly pressed against the door of the clock embedded into the man’s chest.

The fact that, even asleep, the boy was comfortable in the gods arms didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is he injured?” Wonder Woman asked. They’d gone over this already but he didn’t look actively wounded. He seemed to be sleeping only.

Chronos grunted once. “One form heals faster than the other. He needs rest, ambient ectoplasm which he knows how to get on his own, and food. He can answer your questions if he feels like it.”

“If he feels like it?” Green Lantern frowned.

“He’s the King.” Chronos’ lips twitched in amusement again. “If he decides to tell you more, or seek help, that is his decision.”

“Seek help?” Batman’s eyes were narrowed. “Seek help for what?”

Chronos approached and shifted the teenager into Wonder Woman’s arms. His crown shifted back and forth but never left the teen. The grip he had on the god wasn’t noticed until he tried to pull away and Chronos needed to carefully extract the boy’s hand.

Ignoring Batman, he pressed on. “He’ll need to follow up with his doctor by the end of the week. He’ll know how to do that. If he doesn’t, his doctor will come to him. That should be incentive enough.”

“Does he know you’re dropping him off here?” Superman asked, brows knitted together in concern. The heroes had been expecting a fight, not to be handed a royal teen.

“He has a fondness for for space, so you might want to let him wake up here.” Chronos said instead, ignoring that question too. He was growing older again, a short, white beard starting to form.

“How long will he need to be in my care?” Wonder Woman asked, noting the boy weighed very little in her arms. In sleep his features were soft, hopefully he was as sweet as he looked.

“Good luck.” Chronos said, staff reappearing in his hand now, turning back to the portal without giving her an answer.

“Hey! Wait!” Flash yelled but for once, he was too slow, the god and the portal disappeared.

Five members of the Justice League just stood in a mild stupor, their attention shifting to the sleeping teen.

“Well…” Superman muttered.

Wonder Woman looked at the boy, floating hair and crown moving in tandem. “I’ll set him down. We’ll see if he can answer any of our questions when he wakes up.”

“You gonna call him Uncle Danny?” Flash asked, not bothering to hide his smile.

Wonder Woman just ignored him and turned to stride off towards the med-station. -------------------------

------------------------- No idea at all if i’ll continue this. If anyone else wants too, go for it. ^_^

@markus209

#dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #clockwork #justice league #Looks like Wonder Woman is Danny's guardian now #Danny Phantom #wonder woman

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sinsirellaxx · 14 days

Note

I've been thinking about this for several days and I'd really love to know your opinion:

What do you think is the ideal type of each of the Slytherin boys?

Slytherin boys – Their ideal types

Warning: Toxic boys alert! (Not that bad though)

A/N: Ooh, this one was hard! Honestly, I had never really thought about that – or wanted to think about it … but here it goes:

PS: I didn't want to write about ideal body types, so I left that bit out – hope that is alright!

Mattheo …

… doe eyes – does not matter which color (although brownie points for brown eyes) – he’d spend hours just staring into your eyes. If you know how to use your eyes to your advantage, you’ll have him wrapped around your finger.

… pouty lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He’d always have to kiss you whenever he glimpsed at your lips – which was quite often. Be prepared to be kissed all. The. Time. Even during classes – which got you both detention for inappropriate displays of affection.

… he loves long hair, especially curly or wavy hair. Whenever he’s bored, he’ll twirl your curls around his finger.

… he needs a loving, affectionate, soft partner. He’s quite needy and possessive, so he’ll need someone who’ll constantly reassure him without judging him for being overly possessive.

… however, he’d bee head over heels if you also have some sass to you: Sweet, loving but make it spicy.

… loves sneakers and his hoodies on you. Especially if his hoodies still smell like him. The thought of his smell marking you makes him want to go feral.

… would love someone who is inexperienced ... because let’s be honest: the thought of you having been with other people would drive him mad and rob him of his sleep.

Theodore …

… loves long hair as well. He’d try to braid your hair for you – he’d lowkey be possessive over your hair and get angry whenever someone else touches it.

… thinks he wants a more sultry-seductive-siren-like partner, but I think he’d simp for a golden-retriever-type-of partner.

… would secretly wish for you to cook and bake for him – especially Italian dishes and pastries.

… he loved his late mom but she was taken too early from him, which is why he needs someone nurturing, mature and someone who tells him when he’s in the wrong – he won’t like his partner telling him what to do though, especially if he isn’t completely in love with them.

… has a corruption-kink, that he still has to recognize/accept, which is why he’d be crazy about an innocent partner – even if it’s a facade. Bat your lashes at him, and bite your lips and he’s gone

… loves – absolutely adores – milkmaid dresses on his partner

Lorenzo …

… loves a good struggle – so, someone with an attitude – a diva!

… although he wants sass, he’d be mad if his partner refused to listen to him – but as mentioned above: he loves a good struggle, so challenge him.

… adores long hair, especially if worn down.

… wants a partner who always dresses up prettily – just for him!

… play hard to get and he’ll be running after you like a starved dog – but don’t let him grovel for too long, otherwise he’ll be fed up.

… he wants someone who’ll take care of him and praise him, someone who radiates warmth, someone who lets him be the little spoon once in a while.

… wouldn’t want his partner to be taller than him.

… wants someone who only shows their true self to him – to people that they are close and intimate with.

… otherwise, he’d love for his partner to be more introverted.

Draco …

… wants someone he can pamper.

… needs someone who will pamper him emotionally.

… loves lighter hair.

… adores the dark academia style on his partner.

… needs someone who’ll listen to him – someone who is honest with him if need be.

… he’d need someone more goofy – a good-natured partner (that he can easily manipulate if he has to)

Blaise …

… loves long hair.

… is drawn to out-going and playful personalities – someone he can have fun with.

… if his partner does not shy back from telling people to fuck off he’d be on his hands and knees for them.

… would absolutely freckles and/or siren-eyes – he’d be simping 24/7.

… thick thighs for days for this boy.

… someone who is shorter than him.

Tom …

… wants someone smart, witty and strong-willed – but someone who will submit to him (although I believe the dark side of him would enjoy if they put up a fight once in a while, he’d enjoy the putting his partner in their place)

… would hate a clingy partner – but they would have to be ready to give him affection whenever he wants.

… does not care about hair length, but he’d like darker hair.

… needs (not wants) a caring partner, someone who’ll stubbornly tell him to finally eat or get some sleep.

A/N: What do you think their ideal types would be?

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norrizzandpia · 9 months

Text

Masterlist 1

- Disclaimer! All of these have happy endings, I am not one for sad endings lol

- More works on Masterlist 2 which you can find the link to on the pinned post on my blog

Lando Norris:

Reckless Driving

When McLaren thinks its funny to put Y/n in a sports-car with her boyfriend and a set of question cards. Spoiler Alert: She doesn’t!

The Infamous Stream

When Max streams and the chat goes wild for Lando and Y/n’s sappy love.

I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You Pt. 2

What if love isn’t enough? What if the obstacles are too great and all the whirlwind romance ends up being is the right person, but wrong time?

Call Your Mom

Y/n’s struggle with mental health and the journey, accompanied by Lando and her best friends, she goes through in order to get better.

London Boy

In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl.

Flowers

After the Silverstone Grand Prix, Y/n wants to do something nice for her successful boyfriend, but she quickly finds out her kind gesture means a lot more to him than what she expected.

Caught

When living with their best friends proves to be the worst decision Lando and Y/n ever made.

Used Pt. 2

A bet can do more harm than good.

She Doesn’t Know Who I Am Pt. 2

Lando’s in New York and no one knows who he is. Especially the girl who asks for his number.

Enemies To Lovers, Ya Know?

They’ve always hated each other. Always. Right?

Gentle

In which Y/n’s past is a little haunted, but Lando knows exactly how to make her understand that she is safe with him.

Spa

When a reality check causes Y/n to worry about him coming home to her every day for the rest of their lives.

Try On! (Smut Warning)

She thought his opinion on some new lingerie would be good. Spoiler alert, it was good. Really good.

The Softest Launch

He tried to be a secret, but the eyes never lie.

It’s the High Altitude. (Smut Warning)

They’ve missed each other. What can they say?

The Video Pt. 2

Y/n and Lando’s club dancing sends the F1 world into a frenzy.

Lando’s Biggest Fangirl Pt. 2 Pt. 3

His girlfriend. Lando’s biggest fangirl is his girlfriend.

I’m Sorry To Go

She’s not quite ready to have him leave just yet.

What Are You Doing Up?

She can’t go to sleep when he isn’t there.

I Can’t Go a Second Without You

She was gone for five hours, but apparently that’s too long in Lando’s book.

Happy Birthday

It’s his favorite person’s birthday.

Don’t Wake Up Yet (Smut Warning)

When Lando gets home from a race weekend without his girlfriend, he just can’t wait.

Lacy Pt. 2 (Oscar Ending) Pt. 2 (Lando Ending)

To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should be enough summarized.

I Love Your Body

It was the mirrors.

Boyfriend Lando

Where the chat goes crazy for Boyfriend Lando.

Longing Glances and Whispered Confessions Pt. 2

In which, in the darkness of the night, Lando Norris loves Y/n Fewtrell, only for the pain of their secrecy to plague them in the daylight.

Oscar Piastri:

*I also have another Oscar imagine under the Lando section. It is titled Lacy and has an Oscar ending, something you will see if you look at it. It is the second part to an imagine focused on reader loving Lando when he loves someone else. The Oscar ending was incredibly popular and one of my favorites to write! Hope you stumble across this and find that Lacy (Oscar’s Ending)*

Let Me Love You

A friendship where the lines are incredibly blurred is risky, but it’s even more risky to fall in love with a girl who won’t let anyone in romantically.

Caught

Y/n’s and Oscar’s fun in his room takes a surprising, awkward turn very quickly.

- The Vacation (Smut Warning)

They just keep getting caught. (Could be read as a Caught Part 2 or a standalone)

This Is About Oscar?! Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Y/n’s new song exposes a side of Oscar no one knew about.

I’ll Be The Fred To Your Daphne

He’ll always be the Fred to her Daphne, the peanut butter to her pb and j, and the salt to her pepper.

Best Friends To Benefits To Lovers

They’ve been dating for months after being the closest of friends for years. The question is, however, did they start out as best friends with benefits?

The Quiet Night and the Loud Morning (Smut Warning)

It was bound to happen at some point.

Hurt Me Once Pt. 2

In which they just miss the childhood best friends to lovers trope.

She Wears The Pants, Right?

Nobody saw it coming. Nobody.

Let Me Help

She’s got a math test the next day and unfortunately, she can’t do math. However, her boyfriend can.

Loving You in the Shadows Pt. 2

They’ve been together for years. Well, they haven’t been together for years. Yet.

Cover It Up

That one piece of clothing was covering so much and Oscar just had to take it off.

She’s Missed You

In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.

Charles Leclerc:

Edits

When Carlos exposes Y/n watching edits of her boyfriend on Instagram. She’s incredibly embarrassed, but after an interesting conversation with the man himself, should she really be?

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himezoro · 2 months

Text

roronoa zoro's guide to relationship

before anything : tysm for your support on my first post!! i'm working on a long piece to celebrate starring the loml here. feel free to request anything your heart desires, i'll be happy to oblige ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

here's a headcanon of what a relationship with roronoa zoro would include in my opinion.

warning: gn reader, use of "you" and "them", sfw, but sexual intercourses implied! i'll write a dedicated nsfw one if you want to ;)

wc : 1,070k+.

being in a relationship with roronoa zoro would include :

being used as a body pillow. zoro is a heavy sleeper, and his s/o would be the best body pillow ever. he won't admit it, but he feels pretty sad when he's on watch duty and can't sleep alongside their s/o in their shared bed. if his s/o complains about being too hot, he would much prefer pouring an ice cold buck of water upon them rather than moving his body a little. his giant body won't move.

being teased about your habits. zoro is observant and likes a good laugh. so, he would pick on all the small (cute) things his s/o does that feel funny to him. you're sleeping with a stuffed bear ? he would tease you by arranging it in the most deranged scenes ever. you're hugging any of your newest purchase after buying them ? he would tease you by mimicking you with his bottle of sake. be prepared to be constantly teased on.

however, this man won't let anyone make fun of you, and would always defend your honor (even if that third party would make fun of the same things he teases you about). he would yell at luffy and usopp so bad if they dared pulling the smallest of prank on you (remember that scene where he makes luffy drink a whole glass of water at the baratie ? yeah he'll make him drink the whole ocean this time lol)

having his hand on the small of your back while you walk. when a crewmate mentions it to him, he just huffs and acts like "it's nothing". actually, he didn't even notice it himself, but the way his hand falls on your back so naturally is beyond any scientific reasonings. this gesture alone speaks volumes about his love and affection.

making you talk about the smallest of things. roronoa zoro is not the most chattery in the whole crew, but he lives for listening to the voice of their s/o. he would ask you to read a passage of the book you're reading, talk about what you liked and disliked for hours, the latest gossip on the Sunny, anything would make him happy. his head would naturally fall on your lap as he daydreams while rocking on the sound of your honey-like voice. (he would love hearing your voice in bed)

being trusted, valued and respected. zoro would give his all to his s/o. this man is so focused on his dream and his loyalty to luffy would mean so much, that choosing commitment means he would respect and value his s/o for their personality, experiences and ethics. the second he decided it was the right decision, after a lot of introspection, his heart would be left into your hands for you to do as please. he's also really careful as to not push your boundaries, and always asks for consent for anything. anyone with eyes can see how much he adores you and values your existence.

being constantly protected. even though he respects your abilities, he cannot help but keeping an eye on you anywhere, at any times, even when you're not around. he's on high alert, constantly on watch. during combat, he would go rampage if someone dared to touch you, and i'm not talking about being hurt. if that were the case, zoro would not even be able to look at you (in scared of being too "softened") before destroying the enemy with pure sadism.

being kissed all the time when you're alone. this boy hates PDAs, which could be one of the reasons why his has his hand on your back so no one can really see lol. that does not mean he won't look at you with love and adoration in public, offering you a quick and genuine smile or wink when your eyes lock. but when alone, zoro reveals himself as a passionate lover. he would kiss you endlessly until your breath runs out, and would kiss you again when he's given the "go". his kisses would be long, and he would trap you in his huge arms the whole time, running his hands through your waist, hips, legs and ass. he won't say it, but he loves it when you cup his face during the kiss or run your fingers through his green hair. bonus if you grip on his shoulders during intimate moments, where he would kiss you harder and a tad rougher. with him drinking a lot, be prepared for some amusing kissing sessions where he could kiss you with his mouth full of sake (unless you're not drinking, which he would totally respect!!)

him showing off to sanji just to fuck with him. hell, he would lick your whole face in front of the chef if that could set him on fire. that would make him laugh his ass off.

having heated arguments. zoro is stubborn and can be impulsive. if he's in a cranky mood, he may raise his voice at his s/o for nothing important, but he would be feeling so sorry after that. he would shyly apologize in what feels like a whisper, but he would give you some space for a little time before doing so.

being told "i love you" when he thinks you're sleeping. zoro is not chatty, and again, you know he loves you, and he knows he does. anyone with eyes can see that. but sometimes, when the rythme of this life gets too crazy, or when he feels the need for you to hear these magic words and for him to vocalize his feelings, he would say "i love you" in the most intimate way possible, in the crook of your neck when you're sleeping, before pressing a kiss to your temple. little did he know, you heard it every single time. he would also say it during really intimate and slow make out sessions and intercourses. however, he would often thinks "i love them", at the most random times when he's looking at his s/o : seeing them eat ? shower ? dance ? reading ? he's loving them all the time. 24/7. (he just needs the courage to say it each time he thinks it, but then he would look like sanji and he can't have that)

being his. zoro won’t admit it but he loves knowing you’re his, and having the others know it as well. he is so proud of you, and proud to have such an amazing partner. and he would have no shame in saying he’s yours.

don't start me but zoro would be the type of guy to say "i'm not taking a shower unless it's with you" lol.

#one piece x reader #op x reader #opla x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanon #zoro

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 4 months

Text

Form of Affection

22/12: Swimming & Face Fucking - Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.9k~ | Warnings: face fucking (obvi), dark!ish Aemond, kinslaying (mood), dirty talk, praise, degradation, threatening/obsessive behaviour A/N: This takes place in the Form of Gratitude universe!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

He'd given up hunting, but it still didn't stop him from visiting her.

She no longer raised her bow and arrow when she heard footsteps on her cobbled path. Similarly, Aemond had abandoned transport by way of the horse, instead alerting her to his arrival by the dense flapping of Vhagar’s wings.

Now, when she hears it, she waits outside her front door, arms crossed, smirking that he'd come to see her so soon after their last little tryst.

When he wasn’t buried between her thighs, sometimes Aemond craved her company in other ways. By way of hunting with her (hunting her sometimes), exploring the Kingswood until the sun touched the hills and more often, shedding their clothes and going for a swim in the nearby freshwater lake, made warm by the pleasant weather.

Usually, they swim, cleanse, kiss, and he wraps his strong arm around her and sheathes himself inside her, having his fill and only stopping once he was sated.

She was good to him. Submitted to his desires when he wanted. Comforted him when he needed. And did not question.

Today was different.

Today there was a weight on his shoulders like no other.

He’d woken a different person. A kinslayer.

Aemond sighs as he feels her breasts at his back, her slender arms wrapping around him to drift her soft fingertips across his scarred chest. But he does not lift his gaze. The moon shone down on them, reflected off the sapphire of his missing eye now that his eyepatch was discarded with his clothes.

“You are more melancholic than usual”, she muses, her nose gliding up the skin of his neck.

He scoffed, “And I am usually melancholic? Such emotions are beneath that of a Prince”.

He felt her body tense at his back, and he didn't need to look to know he'd offended her, but did not possess the courage to apologise.

“You are cruel when you're like this. It is how I know”, she adds with a soft sigh, making him feel worse, “there is something you are not telling me”.

Even the memory haunts him. He can still hear it, the way Vhagar’s jaw ripped through skin and bone like a knife through paper.

Nevermind having to admit out loud, the horrific act he'd committed. The one that had his mother flinching from his sights.

“I am a kinslayer”, he states simply, “My nephew, Luke.”

She is quiet.

And the silence spreads like a virus.

He expects her to drift away from him, taking her warmth with her, too shocked to really say anything, and leave, never to be seen again. Never to know her sweet loving embrace.

But she stays, and if anything, tightens her hold around him, her warm breath on his jaw, batting against the water droplet that sinks across his skin.

“And how do you feel?”

He's perplexed at just how calm she is. Whether it's a front or not, she's awfully good at it.

“I feel…unclean”, he answers, voice wavering, “like any person who looks upon me sees nothing but a mere monster”.

“I do not see a monster”.

“That does not matter”.

Again, she knows better than to not take it to heart. She can't disagree, her good opinion of him does not matter.

“He is the one who took your eye”, she muses, turning her face into the crook of his neck, the sloshing of water following her movements, “is he not?”

Aemond's tongue suddenly feels heavy, “Yes.”

“While your other family simply watched, and did nothing to assist?”

He swallows, a mild annoyance simmering, “Yes.”

He heard her breath before she spoke, the nerves making her shaky, “forgive me. I do not see why you should feel remorseful.”

“Because it has started a war.”

“A war that, forgive me, would have occurred regardless. I understand you may feel guilt. In my view it is no use looking back on the past. You can only protect your family now.”

Aemond could only scoff incredulously, “With Aegon as king I have a better chance of my eye growing back.”

“Well then why not you?” she asks, her volume lowering.

He barely turns his head to her, “what?”

The coldness of the early evening nips at his shoulders as she pulls away, the water around her trickling as she moves dreamily to look at him fully. Aemond feels himself half blink as he watches her expression, and the feeling of her fingers against his cheek.

Her beautiful full lips are parted, eyes studying the body she can see that is not submerged.

Her gaze flits back up to him, as her fingers disappear beneath the water, one soft digit trailing down his chest.

“It is you who should be king”

Silence.

The weight of what she'd said, what she'd suggested.

It was treason, and both knew it.

Aemond swallowed, chest feeling tight as a bowstring.

She is not at all perturbed by what she's said, not thinking about the consequences of them. Instead she ponders on.

“I am a commoner, my Prince. I know what he does. Where his interests lie”, she utters, an urgency to her tone. Aemond's stomach muscles tense as her hand passes over it, stepping past the fine hairs at his navel.

“It is you who was born to rule Westeros…”, she whispers, her front pressed near to his, breasts and nipples perk from the chill.

He stares idly at the droplet making its way between her breasts as her hand wraps around his cock, seeing her smirk at the realisation that her words have made him impossibly hard.

“...and you will”.

His jaw tightens, the muscle twitching with barely-contained emotion that was difficult to pin down.

Anger. Lust. Irritation. Desire.

They were all batting around in his head, trying to find where to fit.

He grabs her face, tugging her towards him so harshly she let out a little squeak, her grip on him never faltering, “Treasonous little cunt, aren't you?”

He doesn't know what he expected. For her to be scared perhaps.

But maybe there was a darkness in her that was discovered in him just days before. Lurking. Because she smirked. Giving his length a few calculated pumps.

“I told you before, where my loyalties lie.”

Her voice was like honey. Catching him in its trap. And her movements only intensified it.

“And what if I wed Floris Baratheon? Hm? Where will your loyalties lie then?”

She laughs breathily, “Then you wed Floris Baratheon. But, on your wedding night, I dare say, it is me you will be thinking of as you bury yourself inside that plain-faced idiot, searching for fulfillment you will never have. Not like you do with me.”

“You sound so sure”, he muses threateningly.

“Prove me wrong then.”

He sighs and tips his head back, feeling achingly hard. Her movements are too slow to grant him any kind of meaningful pleasure, but the touch all the same ignites a flame within.

“I can think of a better use for your cunt mouth”

The hand moves from her face to her hair, and he revels in the whine she lets out when he drags her from the depths to the shallow bank of the edge of the great lake. In the moonlight, shrouded in blue, their bodies look ethereal with the light bouncing off their damp skin.

He'd fucking hate that smug little smile on her face as he drags her to her knees in front of him, if he didn't fucking love it so much.

“Open.”

She bit her lip, holding back her smile at how wound tight she'd managed to make him and only wished to take it further by outright denying him, cock hard and weeping before her.

A choked moan left her as warmth bloomed on her cheek hard, Aemond's hand followed and grabbed her jaw meanly, pulling her face up to meet his gaze. His fingers curled into the flesh of her face, parting her lips, all while his other hand held his length by the base littered with silver curls, and pressed the tip to her lips.

Her eyes glimmered with excitement, feeling a throb between her thighs as he slid into her mouth slowly, his cock hot and heavy on her tongue. There was a dull ache on her cheek where he'd struck her, but it was exciting all the same.

Aemond moaned loudly when he felt her gag on him, her throat trying to close around his length and tears collecting around the rim of her beautiful eyes.

“That's it…”, he cooed quietly, pressing all the way into her warm, wet mouth until his hips were pressed to her.

“-you think I should be king, hm? - a king needs his cock warmed -”

He could tell she was trying to say something around his length but couldn't, and he wanted to laugh at her attempt as he thrusted so deeply into her mouth, her throat moved along with it, prodding the back of her throat mercilessly.

The little slut was writhing there, taking his cock into her mouth like a cunt would, pressing her thighs together to alleviate how badly she wanted to be fucked.

“- what's that? - I can't hear you -”, he smirked at her. Her eyes now shut with streams of moisture forming lines down her face.

“-that’s it-” he whispers softly, “-much better with my cock in your mouth-”

Once he begins fucking in earnest, he feels her warm hands on his thighs for balance. His fingers tug at her moist hair for leverage, tugging her back on his length.

His stomach muscles tighten as her cheeks hollow, increasing the friction on him. Every nerve feels alight the more he bottoms out inside her mouth.

“-fuck- it's such a waste, I've been dreaming of that perfect cunt all day -” he breathes heavily, “-be a good girl and take it-”

She makes a sound skin to a whine when she tastes his seed, shooting hot ropes onto her tongue and back of her throat, coating her mouth with it as he continues his ceaseless pace, prolonging his pleasure.

Aemond moans loudly, the sound lost in the dense forest, granting himself a few more shallow thrusts before he stills, emptying himself on her tongue and watching as a line of spend dribbles down the side of her mouth and onto her breasts.

He sighs in contentment. She is being good and hasn't moved an inch.

With a wet smack, he pulls his softening cock from her mouth, smirking at the way he coats her lips as they glisten in the moonlight.

She opens her bleary eyes finally to him, and doesn't even need to be told. She swallows, a sigh following after to prove she has swallowed all of it.

He hums. A thumb reaching for her chin to push the seed that had leaked out back into her mouth. She sucks on the digit hungrily, and he nearly moans out at the feeling of her wet tongue.

He pulls it out and cups her face lovingly, her eyelashes fluttering as she leans into his touch.

“Come back to the Keep with me”, he demands simply, like it is the easiest thing in the world.

“What?”

“If I'm going to have to wed, bed and breed Floris fucking Baratheon, I'll need you close to me.”

With the heady taste of him on her tongue still, she swallows and considers for a moment.

“I will not allow the sweetest cunt in the realm to sleep on the outskirts of the fucking Kingswood. You will be mine.”

His words are sweet.

It would promise safety from vagabonds, rapists and hunters, for certain. And she had to admit, she did miss him whenever he departed on Vhagar, summoned back to the Keep.

So, she smiles at him, leaning forward to press her temple against his body.

“Yes, my King.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

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crvptidgf · 21 days

Text

Whipped

Kaz Brekker x Reader

➸ summary: just as you start to think that Kaz is incapable of basic human decency, he proves you wrong (in his own, Kaz-like way)

➸ warnings/notes: none

word count: 1.2k

————————

ONE THING YOU quickly learned about Kaz was that he never showed outward emotion. In fact, sometimes you weren’t too sure he even felt any at all. That was what everybody said - Kaz was robotic in the way he interacted with people, hardly sparing a thought on the well-being or opinions of others.

While it wasn’t far off the truth, you knew there had to be more to him than a void machine with no care for anybody but himself. He was still, after all, human (despite what anybody else might say).

It wasn’t without reason that he gained his infamous aliases. Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands, Demjin. That’s why it surprised you when you started getting nervous around him. Not the kind of nervous that most people felt with Kaz, but more like a stupid, naïve school-girl kind of nervous. Why? You could probably name a million reasons.

Putting aside all that he has done and all that he is, Kaz was genuine. Perhaps not like how Jesper and Inej were - and sure, he didn’t have the softness that Nina held, or the undying open affection that Matthias bared for his lover, or even the sweet, lovable awkwardness that Wylan had. He was, however, intriguing in his own way.

He was brutally loyal to those he deemed worthy; his mind worked unlike anyone else you had met; and he never, ever, took shit from anyone - no matter if it was a stranger off the street or one of his Crows. Not to mention that he always seemed to be 2 steps ahead of his foes, which was something you admired greatly. These special qualities made him who he is and you couldn’t help but fall for his cold and calculating personality.

There was always a wall separating him from being honest with people, his lack of trust and need to be in control too strong to ever let up. Yet bit by bit (or brick by brick) his shell started to gather cracks and crevices in the shape of you.

You had somehow wormed your way into his icy heart. Of course he would never dare admit it to himself, much less say it out loud, but deep down he knew. And he hated it.

He hated that he remembered your favorite color. He hated that he knew exactly how you liked your tea in the mornings. Most of all, he absolutely loathed the fact that you, out of anybody he has ever encountered, managed to become his biggest weakness.

Kaz always prided himself on his nonchalant façade. Nobody could ever read what was going on inside his mind and he worked hard to keep it that way. Until you came along. Until you wrung and twisted his insides until he couldn’t take it anymore - the thoughts of you so polluted in his mind that he couldn’t help but chastise his childish behavior.

He wasn’t a boy anymore. He didn’t have crushes (although what he felt for you was a little more than a measly crush).

All of this to say that, when he saw the small smile that tugged on the corner of your lips whenever he did something thoughtful for you, he actually found that he didn’t mind being reduced to a mindless, clueless idiot around you. He actually realized that he liked making you happy. This epiphany scared him. But if tossing and turning at night, his mind completely overtaken by you, meant that he could see your grin light up the room just one more time, he could live with it.

You, on the other hand, had no idea of his inner turmoil. Yeah you knew he was a bit gentler when you were around (not by much, you noted), but that could be for a multitude of reasons. Surely Kaz Brekker, the notorious Dirtyhands, didn’t take a fancy to you of all people. Right?

These thoughts were however thrown from your mind when you awoke to your floorboards creaking, the sound alerting your fight or flight response. Constantly being in imminent danger does that to a person. You can never be too sure when death would knock on your door.

Yet when you slowly reached your hand under your pillow for your dagger (a gift that Inej had graced you with on your first birthday at the Crow Club), a voice stopped you from your worries.

“It’s just me. No need for any violence so early in the morning.”

Turning in your small but cozy bed, you were met with a somewhat startled looking Kaz. He wasn’t expecting you to wake up - he should’ve forseen this. Saints, he was losing his game. He always did when it came to you.

“Oh,” you replied simply. “Did you need something?”

Kaz’s lips formed into a line, something in his hand shuffling as he mulled over his thoughts. He should leave, he thought. But he didn’t. Instead he stood at the foot of your bed like a total creep, his eyes traveling over your face so quickly that you almost missed it.

“Breakfast,” he said, throwing the bag that he previously toyed with in his hand.

It landed with a soft thud on your bed, the brown paper almost unfolding as it reached your knee. Picking it up slowly, you looked towards Kaz for any indication of what it was. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was inside.

It was a sugar-roll. Something you had been craving for months, but could never seem to get your hands on. There was only one bakery in the Barrel that sold these, and it was on the complete other side of the city.

“How did you- Where-“ you stumbled over your words, utterly struck by surprise.

Kaz spun his cane in his hand, the crow's head glinting in the sunlight that peeked from your window.

You never thought you would see the day, but he hesitated before answering.

“Had some business to attend to. I just happened to walk by that bakery that you’re always harping on about.”

So he did listen to your meaningless rants. Nina had mentioned the bakery a while back, and you and her bonded over your shared enjoyment of the confectioneries that they sold. You didn’t think Kaz actually heard it, much less remembered what your favorite pastry was.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

Kaz nodded, retreating backwards as he responded. “Hopefully now you’ll stop bugging me about that stupid roll of yours,” he said.

While his words were harsh, you could see the glint in his eyes as he spotted your excited expression, your hands pulling the doughy goodness out of its bag. In his own backwards way, Kaz was as whipped as somebody like him could get.

As he limped out of your room, the comfort of your presence leaving him, he spotted Jesper outside the door, smirking.

“What,” Kaz snapped.

“You just happened to walk by?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, sighing. He continued to walk, ignoring Jesper’s attempts to annoy the man.

“That bakery is at least 30 minutes away,” he stifled a laugh, “you need to think up better lies, boss.”

“Tell anyone and you’ll never see your guns again,” Kaz said, knowing there was no point in lying any more. He cast a backwards glance at his friend, who immediately put his hands up in defense.

Jesper smiled to himself as he was finally left alone upstairs. He was going to have so much fun taunting that over Kaz's head in the next few weeks.

The Bastard of the Barrel - whipped.

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princessmisery666 · 2 months

Text

Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you!

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.

“That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”

If only she knew.

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks.

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.

“I did it already,” he calls after you.

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.

“Say what?”

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

Tags info

/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimal87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#dean winchester #jacklesversebingo23 #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #dean winchester angst #spn fanfic #angst #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

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xiaosonlybeloved · 3 months

Text

Too Late~ Dazai Osamu

featuring:- PM!Dazai Osamu, gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned), Chuuya (briefly) warnings:- angst, hurt/no comfort, being hostage, mentions of torture in captivity, graphic mentions of blood and violence, major character death, lmk if i missed anything a/n:- im already sighing on looking at the warnings... it IS bsd i suppose.. well here's what im best at again, in a new fandom, so have some angst that is VERY late set some time before Odasaku's death

wc:- 2.5k || masterlist

Not many people knew what it was like to have known Dazai before he joined the Port Mafia. To be one of the few people who had been trusted by him. Keyword being ‘had’- for some, some unfathomable reason, he’d drifted away, leaving you behind, alone. Making you wonder if for some reason he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

It hurt. It hurt that you could lose him so easily, despite having been with him throughout the years, making sure he knew that you would always be there for him, silently tending to him after yet another attempt. It hurt because you had no idea what you did wrong to push him away. It hurt because he didn’t care anymore, for you, for them, for your shared childhood.

A fool could have probably known that you shouldn’t have gotten so close to the brunette, that he leaves nothing but a trail of suffering and sorrow in the wake of the people who dared to care for him. You, however, argued that he wasn’t like this before. At all. Again, a fool’s excuse.

Perhaps the Port Mafia had changed him, so much more than it changed you. Because now, he was completely unrecognisable, almost like he was a different person altogether. And you can’t help but dully wonder where the man you once knew almost inside out went, the man who once did his best to stay with you no matter what, when he abandoned you yet again during a joint mission ordered by Mori, citing some logical reasons of why it was better for you to not be with him during a mission. (Like always.) Not even bothering to get your opinion or response, something he never did before joining the Mafia.

You watch silently as the brunette slowly disappears into the horizon, leaving you behind. Again.

That night, as you return to your apartment alone once again, (Bittersweet memories surface in your mind- young Dazai cheerily walking you back home, laughing.), you get the distinct feeling that something is off. You are a mafioso after all, you need to have a keen sense for danger to be alive in this industry. You’re instantly on high alert, even though you look calm as always, with your hands in your coat pockets, ready to pull out your knives in a moment. But you still can’t sense anyone following you. Just to be sure, you take a detour home.

You take a deep breath at the threshold of your door, relieved to be back here. That sense of danger wasn’t as prominent anymore, and you were dying to get some sleep in an attempt to get a certain brunette out of your mind. You’d deal with whatever the problem was tomorrow- you’d had enough today. You can’t help but smile forlornly as you walk into your dimly lit home-

-And then suddenly you’re falling, falling, into a void of darkness, surrounded by the people you care, by him, hurling words at you that stab you like a thousand knives in a nightmare, and dumbly you realise that you walked right into an ability user’s trap, before the unknown ability takes your consciousness, bringing a silent darkness and pain.

*********

Mimic. A foreign organisation, a group of extremely skilled soldiers who sought the Port Mafia for unknown reasons. People who are willing to go to extreme lengths to get what they wanted- much like your own boss, really. And the ones who are your captors.

You can’t move, you’ve been chained. You assume that they want someone valuable to the Mafia as a hostage, and apparently you serve the purpose well. And dammit, you’ve been completely disarmed while unconscious, you can’t feel a single weapon on you. You’re alone, too, but there’s definite signs that someone’s been here, multiple times. There’s also an assortment of sharp weapons some distance away from you, and you think its cruel to leave them in your sight but out of reach. There’s no windows or openings either.

Footsteps echo outside the door of the room you’ve been kept in, breaking your survey of the room and your thoughts of escape routes. Two men walk in, dignified. It’s clear that they are war-trained soldiers. One of them stops talking with a grin, as he notices you awake.

**********

They want an individual from the Mafia on orders of their boss. They claim that Mori has been taking too long in making a decision, and they apparently hope their decision to take you captive will either force Mori to choose, or force you to give up the individual’s identity yourself in exchange for your freedom under pressure. But you can’t, won’t do the latter.

Because the individual they want is Oda Sakunosuke, Dazai’s new best friend, and you know damn well that he would utterly despise you if you gave up his identity, if you took away the one who gave him his reason to smile these days. Bitter thoughts cloud your mind, of how he abandoned you completely over some new friends, and you wonder if it would be better to just tell them. But then, your mafia sense kicks in, reasoning that if Mori doesn’t want his identity to be revealed yet, then you're probably as good as dead if you choose for him instead and return alive. (You would later realise that this thinking, too, was planned out by Mori, that bastard.) Your captors let hints slide that they’ll let your absence build up for a while, then let the Mafia know of your being their captive. Hopefully they do something.

You’ll just have to do your best to get out of those damn bonds by then, or survive till then. This was a very convenient time to wish that Dazai had taught you his little trick on how to unlock handcuffs, you think wistfully.

*********

As it turns out, surviving is an extremely hard thing to do after a few days have passed since Mori was apparently informed about the news of your captivity. Mori still hadn’t responded with his decision. Proof being the various cuts and bruises littering your skin already, a few small bloodstains already on the wall and floor. Not too much. Yet. They were intent on forcing your answer out of you, and clearly wouldn’t mind going to extremes for it.

You did your utmost to not make a single reaction when the knife pierced through your skin again, despite the pain that shot through your body for the umpteenth time. Unfortunately, you were well trained on how to not divulge information in captivity- after all, the Port Mafia really couldn’t risk their insider secrets getting out.

You were still intent on escaping, on getting out. You still had a flicker of hope in you, that someone would come for you, that he might come for you, despite the past few days proving fruitless. You refused to give up yet. You still believed in him, in them, that you wouldn’t be abandoned so easily by your kin.

‘Such a naive belief’, you would dully think some days later.

********

Hope seemed like such a foolish thing now. You had lost track of time in the room without windows. No idea of how many days or weeks had passed. They weren’t coming for you. Of course they weren’t. You weren’t that important anyways, easily replaceable. Casualties happened often, what did it matter if someone died by being taken hostage? You truly attempted to free yourself, many times. You never succeeded, and each time you only received more wounds as punishment. Your captors were merciless, to say the least.

Wounds. That seemed like a small word to use at this point, with how battered and bruised you were. Your clothes were bloodsoaked, and you’d lost count of the number of scars and cuts you’d gained from your captors a long while ago. You could sense they were getting extremely frustrated by the lack of response. You didn’t mind, you didn’t care. You’d even stopped screaming when they cut you particularly deep- you just didn’t have any strength left in you at all. You passed out a few times from extreme blood loss. You could almost hear Mori in your mind, scolding you to get up already.

Mori. Of course, everything was probably a part of his heartless plans, fully willing to use any number of pawns for their execution.

At this point, you just wanted to be put out of your misery.

Your wish was granted some time- days?- later.

*******

Dazai was initially relieved when you didn’t show up to your next joint mission. He wouldn’t have to ensure your safety and hide his feelings again. But he’d quickly figured out that something was wrong when you didn’t show up again, and again, and you were nowhere to be seen around the Port Mafia buildings either. He’d gathered up the courage to go to your apartment, but had immediately sensed the ability at the entrance and deactivated it. That was what confirmed it for him, and finally, he allowed himself to feel fear for his childhood best friend. For you.

He was well aware that he didn’t deserve to, after how terribly he treated you in an attempt to protect himself from his emotions. His only defence was that he was afraid of hurting you- he knew his reputation well. But that didn’t matter right now- he had to find you. Except not a single person had a clue of your whereabouts. The only person he hadn’t questioned yet was Mori.

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to go beyond the doors of Mori’s office. He was scared. Scared of what he’d find.

Again, that would prove to be one of his biggest mistakes, when Kouyou grimly approached him, having accidentally obtained information about you that she wasn’t even supposed to know in Mori’s office. Kouyou cared for you enough to let Dazai know of your situation.

Dazai felt sick to the core when he saw the single picture attached in the message Kouyou sent him, along with a decision to choose between you and the future-seeing ability user- Odasaku. His heart dropped into his stomach even more when he saw that the last message was a few days ago. What if-?

No. Dazai refused to think of that possibility. He’d track down the source of that picture, he’d hunt them down, make them regret their decision, and he’d get you back. He’d make sure of it. He had too many apologies he owed to you after all, even if they would never make up for all that he’d done. He would.

*******

You were surprised that their boss hadn’t shown up to interrogate you yet. You simply stared hollowly at the walls as the door slammed open and the highest-ranked individual in the facility walked in, knife in hand.

Not a single piece of information slipped past your mouth, as he went through the routine torture process.

Time passes, and you can see that he’s grown extremely frustrated with your lack of response. One of the others standing at the door, watching your misery, suggested that he simply kill you and get it over with. It was pointless to keep you around anymore.

‘Finally’ you think darkly. You didn’t think you could hold out for much longer.

You close your eyes, not wanting to see your killer. Instead, you remember the people you care for, silently apologising to them for giving up. Somewhere, in the background, you hear the distant noises of shouting. Probably some of the other soldiers playing cards or something again.

Despite you willing yourself to not make a sound, a shattering scream tears itself out of your throat when you feel the knife harshly stabbed straight into your heart. Your killer twisted it roughly- another scream, your last- and then pulled the knife out.

You feel yourself fall forward, double in on yourself, wrists held back to the wall. The agony is excruciating, but hopefully it won’t last long. To you, it feels as if your screams are echoing in the room, or maybe in your mind, and your vision has gone blurry in pain. But then, you realise through your numb haze that your screams do not sound like that- you’ve heard the sound enough.You realize that maybe someone has attacked your captors.

There’s a terrified shout mixed in all the clamor, and its a voice that you would recognise anywhere. ‘But there’s no way’, you think hollowly. No one cared enough to come for you.

Then you feel yourself falling forward suddenly, blood gushing out from your chest, into someone’s familiar arms as your eyes close. The handcuffs are gone. Faintly, you hear a voice- his voice- through the ringing in your ears, saying something unintelligible to you. You can’t understand what's being said, but you struggle to open your eyes one last time to see.

And somehow, Dazai is there, holding you tightly, eyes full of panic and terror, everyone else in the room crushed to the ground. He’s saying something worriedly to someone behind him- Chuuya. You briefly wonder if you’re hallucinating, but decide against it- this all feels too real. This must have been the shouts in the distance.

They came for you. In the end, they came, albeit a bit too late. You feel yourself being lifted, and then Dazai is running out, holding you carefully as if you could break any moment- you’re already broken though. You feel the cool night breeze for the first time in ages, see the beautiful moon again. A small smile rests on your lips as you feel yourself finally fall limp in his arms. ‘He still looks as pretty as before, and maybe, just maybe, he still cares for you’, is what you think.

You shut your eyes again, surrendering yourself to the darkness beyond the agony.

********

Horrified is much too mild a word to use, when he sees your condition. When he sees you being stabbed in front of his eyes, when you fall limp in his arms. The next moments are a panicked blur, Chuuya saying something to take you somewhere, that he’ll handle this place. He runs straight out, towards the Mafia building, towards the doctors, towards the hospital, anywhere, anywhere you can be saved.

But its already too late, he knows it when you don’t move in his arms anymore, when your bleeding chest doesn’t rise and fall again, and he doesn’t know what else to do apart from screaming in sorrow and fear, because he’s just lost the one person who understood him like no one else, who cared for him like no one else, who he stupidly pushed away, and its all because of him. He falls to his knees, still clutching your lifeless, bleeding body. Your face had a hint of a smile in your last few moments, and that is what finally breaks him. All he can do is cry out apologies continuously, tears freely streaming down his face, for everything he’s done wrong, for how he’s treated you, for being too late to save you.

finallyyy, and as usual, votes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated also lmk if you guys want a happy ending :D

#extra:- this was all part of mori's plan to make dazai leave pm without actually making him leave bc he feared dazai wanted his position #and he follows this up with oda's death to finally push dazai over the edge as he lost the two ppl he cared abt the most and left #skylia's works #bsd #bungo stray dogs #dazai #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai angst #bsd angst #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai bsd #dazai x reader angst #bsd oneshots #dazai oneshots

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arabellasleopardcoat · 8 months

Note

Hi! Could I get sleepy + Aemond? I hope I filled my request right

Push and Pull (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: You just love riling him up. Especially on his name day.

Warnings: Smut. Oral sex (M receiving) Degradation.

A/N: A little treat to get you by this week.

Aemond is not a morning person. You have come to realize it after a few months of marriage. Usually, he is up early, ready to fulfill his duties, but you can tell it’s hard for him to be alert when he wakes.

It’s endearing. Being married to someone so intimidating can be hard. Aemond seems not to need anyone or anything. Fireproof. But seeing him so vulnerable in sleep does funny things for you.

There is a strange feeling in your chest, as you watch him sleep. Something tight and possessive, yet warm. Perhaps not yet love, since you have been married only a few moons. But close to it.

It’s a rare thing, that you get to have him for yourself a whole morning. However, it is his name day, and he has been barred from his usual duties under threat of a feast in his name.

You had promised last night to wake him with a surprise, though. So, feeling very naughty, you shift from your position on his side, and start kissing a path down his neck.

“Hm.” You don’t make it to his collarbones before he stirs, blinking up at you with a bleary eye. You giggle, and keep kissing, this time down his chest.

He throws an arm over his face, groaning. It’s too early for his liking.

“What are you up to?”

“Something I read about.” You mutter, against his stomach. You nuzzle the skin there. Aemond has a ticklish spot just below his ribs, and you enjoy kissing it just to see him squirm.

He does so, fighting laughter. You congratulate yourself for knowing him so well, scratching your nails a little over the spot. He is the kind of man who takes himself way too seriously. It would break his cold, aloof persona if he were to giggle over tickles.

“Is it improper?” Aemond asks, tone mildly amused. One of his hands goes to brush your hair back. His motions are slow. He is not fully awake yet. Just risen Aemond is not comparable in any shape or form to fully awake Aemond. This version of your husband is much softer. For once, his mind is not racing.

“You know me.” You grin at him. “Everything I want to try with you is improper.”

Aemond smirks. You kiss lower, right over his navel. He watches you with a hooded eye.

“Don’t tell me this is a whore’s trick.” Aemond complains, sitting up a little. Despite his harsh words, and the way he is looking down at you, there is a curious glint on his face.

“Do not be disrespectful.” You suck a hickey over his hip, admiring your handiwork. His skin is so pale, it works as a perfect canvas. Often, you entertain yourself by trying to pull colors from him, be it either in the form of blushes from rage, shyness, or even arousal. It’s a bit cruel, perhaps, but he is just too easy to rile up.

Besides, it's for the best. You are supposed to be trying for a child. Riling up Aemond ensures he later spends that pent-up energy in the bedroom. So really, it's for the good of the realm.

“I am not being disrespectful. You are my wife. I do not want you to feel the need to debase yourself like that.”

Debase. As if. He had clearly been reading too much of the Seven Pointed Star and not enough literature. After all, nothing that could be done in bed was immoral if it helped perpetuate love.

Not willing to get into an argument about the merits of the clergy's opinion on what couples did in bed, you decide for the simpler explanation, hoping to get him to drop it through flattery.

“It’s your name day.” You lick a strip over his stomach before blowing cool air on it. He squirms, the sheet falling further down his hips.

“And you thought the best gift was lowering yourself to the same level as whores?” If you were not used to him already, you would be offended. Instead, by his breathy tone and the fact that he is doing nothing to stop you, you gather he is just as curious as you are about it.

You bite sharply on his hipbone, making him jolt.

“You either shut up or I make you.”

“I am just saying…” Aemond tries pacifying you, gently rubbing his thumb over the bridge of your nose. His tone is much softer now, no longer laced with annoyance.

“By the Seven, do you ever shut up?” You ask, exasperated. “It’s too early for your nagging.”

“You are my wife! I do not…”

Whatever he does or doesn’t is irrelevant because he goes deadly quiet when you give a kitten lick to his tip.

It’s an interesting experience, for sure. So far, your coupling has been limited to intercourse, with some aid from his hands or yours to prepare each other. It’s always rushed, a means to an end. Despite you claiming this was a name day present for him, it’s something you have been wanting to do for a while. You were curious about it.

Never before had you seen his manhood from this close. You stare, working up the courage to do more than just lick at him.

Aemond grips your chin, tilting your head up. He gives you a challenging look. He is not the kind of man to give reassuring words or coddle you. No. He is not going to help you out of a mess you've gotten yourself into. But Aemond knows exactly what buttons he needs to press, how to push and when to do so. You like that about him, you realize.

Being with him is exciting. Always a challenge. Aemond keeps your mind busy with smart, engaging conversation. He keeps your heart busy too, always managing to show he cares even if he won't tell you. It's only fair that he does the same to your body. Push your limits. Encourage you out of your comfort zone.

That thought it’s all the encouragement you need. You lean forward and take him inside your mouth, pulling a face at the feeling. Like your jaw is struggling to accommodate for the new position you are in. Aemond gasps. You look up at him, noticing he has closed his eye.

His hands fist the sheets. Curiously, you try to take more inside your mouth, wondering how much of him you can actually fit. You barely manage to make it halfway before your eyes start to tear up, and you are fighting not to gag.

Aemond brushes his hand on top of your hair, petting you clumsily.

“It’s so warm.” His voice comes out thicker than usual. By it, you gather that while he might know what the act entails, he has never felt it before.

You look up at him, giving him a teasing glance. He groans, before falling quiet. His eye is closed again, and the idea that the sight of your lips wrapped around him was too much for him to bear, warms your blood.

Slowly, you start to get into a rhythm. You explore him first, noting how his hips buck when your tongue brushes his underside, or when you suck at the tip. How there isn’t as much of a reaction as you would want when you suck and kiss the middle of his shaft. Then, when you realize what it’s that Aemond likes, you just go for it.

Bobbing your head up and down allows you to control the depth he is at, stroking the rest with your hands. But it’s also much more taxing on your neck and jaw. You encourage him to buck his hips with a soft touch to his thigh.

“Are you sure?”

You give him a small nod. Aemond lifts his hips slightly, thrusting into your mouth. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb rubbing against the bulge on your cheek.

“Good wives don’t offer this sort of thing.” He says, almost conversationally. Clearly, he had been using the time you had spent exploring to get used to the new feeling and get his control back. You don’t blame him for it. Were it you, you would have done the same. “But you are not a good wife, are you? You are a good little whore”

Despite yourself, you feel your cheeks starting to heat up. You know it’s all in good fun, of course, but the reason these things arouse you so much is the same reason why you like him taking charge. It makes you feel small in all the good ways.

You suck a little harder, feeling more embarrassed at the loud noises your motions cause.

Aemond grins.

“Dirty girl.” He says, as his thumb wipes a bit of the spit that has gathered on the corner of your mouth. “If I had known, I would have done this a lot sooner.”

You grin back, in triumph. So he had been thinking about it. You go back to sucking him, tenderly. Or as tenderly as one can do such an act.

“Too proud of being a little whore?” Aemond groans a little at the end of the phrase, when you take your chance to rub your tongue against his underside. “That's alright. As long as you are my whore. No one's else.” He grips at your hair, forcing you to make eye contact again. “Mine.”

You make a little mocking noise, rolling your eyes as best as you can. That's how marriage works, you want to say. Aemond, though, does not seem to think you are only teasing.

Roughly, he takes you off him and pushes you to lay on your back. He straddles your chest, careful of not putting too much weight on your chest. His hand remains fisted in your hair.

Aemond looms over you, giving you a glare.

“You are mine.” He says, as he starts to fuck into your mouth. This time, he is not holding back. Your hands curl around his hips and behind, trying to find something to hold on to. The muscles flex under your hands.

This position is slightly easier on your neck, but you lose all the control you thought you had. It's a bit frightening. But Aemond never tries pushing past what you can take, keeping his thrusts steady and superficial.

Embarrassingly, you find the act even more arousing than you did before. From here, you get to watch all the micro changes in Aemond's face. How his brows pinch together, how his cheeks flush. How his mouth goes slack the closest he is to his peak.

It's intoxicating. Normally, Aemond is a silent lover. He rarely makes a sound, except to talk to you. Now, though, he is giving small sighs and the occasional grunt. You wonder if he even is aware of the sounds he is making.

His hands push yours away. Aemond pins your hands against the mattress, reclining further into you. Softly, you curl your fingers around his. Your eyes meet his.

His pupil is nearly completely blown, making it look darker than it is. His face, his motions, all point to a specific emotion. Aemond is desperate. Desperate for you. And never in your life have you felt more powerful.

Struggling, he pulls back from you.

“I want… I…” His thumb taps at your lower lip, almost without realizing it. His expression is wrecked. You understand immediately.

“Do it.” You open your mouth, feeling very silly. His groan of appreciation it's all the encouragement you need, though.

“Close your eyes.” His voice comes out breathy, a very far cry from your usually controlled husband. You obey, despite wanting to watch.

You hear him jerk off, small punched out little moans making their way through his lips. How much you wish to see, hear. You can almost picture it, how his hands and hips give little twitches, how his mouth falls open and his eye closes.

You hear it before you feel it. His hand squeezes around yours, a grip so tight you worry he might hurt you. Aemond gives a soft grunt and something warm and sticky hits your face and tongue.

It’s salty and not exactly the nicest thing you have ever had, but you swallow regardless. Almost a reflex. You open your eyes to see Aemond scrambling off you and hurrying towards the chest where you keep your linens.

Wiping your face with your hand, you stare at him, unperturbed. Were this the first time you two were together, you would feel bad about it. Most people dislike being left alone after intimacy, but you know his abrupt departure will be justified.

See, the thing about Aemond is that he seems to have an allergy to affection. And vulnerability. Or so he likes making everyone think. He cares, in his own way. It’s just not especially romantic.

You are proven right when he comes back with a handkerchief and starts wiping at your face and hand.

“There. We didn’t stain anything else?” He eyes you distrustfully. You scowl. While you might not be as pristine and immaculate as he always is, you are a clean person. But he looks at you as if he expects you to rub his seed on the sheets.

“No?”

“Are you certain?” Aemond asks, with a devilish grin. He starts pushing your nightgown off your shoulders. Now he is certainly awake. “I better check. After all, you have a penchant for getting dirty.”

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 2 months

Text

you'd know - j. drysdale

summary: jamie moves to philly! and doesn't sleep on cam's couch!

warnings: swearing? unedited (i'll do it later maybe), fluff, insinuation of sexual relations, the tr*de

word count: 3.1k

“What about this one?” Jamie asked, not for the first time in the last hour, sliding his tablet across the duvet to sit on your lap, you once more placing your book next to you on the covers, barely holding in the mildly amused tilt of your lips when you felt his eyes fixate intently on the side of your face as you swiped through the photos of houses in Philly.

It wasn’t the best one he’d shown you, by all means, but it had a certain charm about it that had you clicking the ‘favourite’ icon in the corner and passing the device back over to him without a word.

Even as you picked up your book again, eyes drifting to the clock in the corner of his screen, you couldn’t quite concentrate on the words printed on the page. Your mind hadn’t really been into reading these last couple of days; everything seemed to have happened pretty quickly with Jamie’s trade to Philly (of all places!), and then although he’d left his stuff in Cam’s apartment and taken up residence on the ginger’s couch, he’d mostly taken to staying over at yours – a vast change in dynamic since the start of your relationship in the summer. You’d gone from scheduled FaceTime calls and texts, and maybe only seeing each other in person once monthly since the season had started, to Jamie living within a five mile radius and sleeping over at yours almost every night.

Cam wasn’t complaining, by any means: an empty apartment was always going to be a positive thing for him, but it didn’t stop Jamie from sneaking back over each morning, unaware of the fact that Cam was very much alert to his sneaking out. He just didn’t want to be disrespectful or seem like he wasn’t appreciative of the offer of a couch, but…a bed with his girlfriend was always going to be the more appealing option, that much was certain.

You weren’t exactly complaining either, it was just a lot to adjust to. But the most shocking thing, not including Jamie’s trade to Philly, was probably the fact that you weren’t bothered by him being in your apartment or seeing him everyday.

It was just a little weird.

And now he was shopping for houses in your double bed (your room didn’t fit anything bigger), your roommate asleep in their room on the other side of the apartment, and asking for your opinion on each listing he showed, both of you fully aware of the fact that your lease was set to end in a matter of weeks.

“What about this one?” He asked once more, and instead of placing your book on the bed, you reached over to place it on top of the bedside table, surrendering to the fact that you weren’t about to get any reading done if he kept up this schtick.

You flicked through the photos, chewing the inside of your mouth as you scrolled down to read the information.

Like all the others, this one also had three bathrooms and four bedrooms, and you weren’t entirely sure if you were overthinking too much, but those factors seemed a little much for a guy to have in a house by himself. You had no doubt that Jamie intended to have some friends over every now and again, but all these houses he was showing were, for lack of better descriptions, family houses. Or, at least, houses for more than one person.

“I…” you started, hesitating slightly at actually bringing the topic up; the most serious conversation you guys had ever had was the one pertaining to the actual state of your relationship, and even then, you’d stopped calling it ‘fun’ only five months ago – and if your theory was correct…

You weren’t even sure.

“What’s up?” Jamie asked, leaning in ever-so-closely. His arm and shoulder was leant comfortably against yours, his head just shy of resting against your cheek so he could still see the screen clearly.

“Nothing,” you started, backing out of it slightly, before inhaling sharply and purposefully avoiding looking at him when you spoke the next few words out loud. How the fuck could you say this without sounding– “It’s just, these houses all have big back yards and loads of bathrooms and bedrooms.”

Jamie blinked, lips pressing together as his eyes flickered back down to the screen, “Do they?” He asked, unsurely taking the tablet out of your hands, and you had to catch your bottom lip with your teeth to stop yourself from smiling a little at his anxious antics.

So, you’d been right, then.

That was nice to know.

He pretended to frown, a crease between his brows and a look of concentration printed so…fakely onto his face that you were forced to sneak your way under his arm, head settling rather comfortably on his shoulder as he brought his arm around to tuck you into his side, both hands still attached to the tablet. He pressed a delicate kiss to your hair before resting his cheek on top of your head, his hum vibrating your bones.

“So,” you started, “you planning on having loads of people over with these houses?” You asked innocently, watching him with interest as he scrolled further down the listings. He’d made no move to edit his filters, which did nothing but confirm your suspicions.

He nodded, exhaling through his nose and clicking back onto the favourites page to scroll down and then back up again, a lot of thought going into clicking his clear favourite. It was a rather adorable house, if empty, barely-furnished photos were anything to go by; it just felt easy to picture him decorating the entire place with his stuff – and a bed. For him to sleep in, not a couch, with his own sheets on.

“I was thinking for special occasions, like Christmas and stuff, and I can’t go home because of work, that people might be open to the idea of staying here and celebrating in Philly.” He mumbled, flicking through the photos.

“People?” You echoed, head turning to your door after a bang echoed through your apartment.

The across-the-hall neighbours were almost nocturnal, you were sure of that.

“Y’know,” Jamie continued, pretending the bang wasn’t at all a disturbance, “family, friends. ‘N you.”

You blinked, focusing all the willpower you had into not grinning like an absolute fool and giving yourself away to him – not only because you knew he was keeping an eye on you, but because you wanted to tease him a little bit, not in a mean way, but gently – enough to get him to blush and admit to something.

“Is that why you’re asking for my opinion?” You asked, your fingers lazily and absent-mindedly trailing up and down his forearm.

He hummed again, and his lack of words had you pulling away from him a little. It wasn’t enough to break out of his hold, but enough to get him to lift his head from yours so you could see his face properly. His eyes were on you, but as soon as he seemed to register you weren’t moving anywhere, he turned his attention back to the tablet, ignoring his complete lack of answer and instead choosing to press his lips together to prevent himself from smiling, and avoiding your eyes completely.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, still not reacting.

You poked a finger to his cheek, his stubble providing a scratch that almost tickled, and he caught your hand, this time with a rather amused smile now freely on his face, and his eyes accusingly narrowed in your direction, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Didn’t I?” He furrowed his brows, tilting his head. His hand squeezed around yours three times, before he laced your fingers together.

You rolled your eyes fondly, “You know you didn’t.”

He sighed, switching his tablet off and placing it on the floor with a dull thud, shooting you a ‘just a moment’ look as he got himself comfy against the pillows, taking an exceptionally long amount of time to adjust the height at which he preferred the duvet to be pulled up.

“Come on.” He patted your pillow, and you followed, lying face-to-face, “Okay. So, I’ve been thinking that we should start factoring each other in a bit more. It’s been, like, nine months—”

You frowned, “Five.”

“Nine.” He argued, blue eyes confused at your own answer.

“Five – we weren’t even dating–”

“We might as well have been. We were doing everything we do now–”

“Except tell each other the truth.”

He blinked after a brief pause, “Fine. Five months, then. I guess I’m asking your opinion on the houses because you’re my girlfriend, and I want us both to like the house I’m going to buy because I’m hoping you’ll stay over every now and then. I want you to like it so you stay over.”

“Even if I didn’t like it I’d want to stay over.”

He breathed a laugh sorely lacking mirth, and you felt yourself frown at his shaking head and disbelieving eyes.

“That’s not the point.” He whispered.

You didn’t say anything or do anything to allude to what you were thinking; Jamie’s eyes were roving over your face searching for some kind of hint as to what was going through your head – trying to figure out if you’d caught on or if you were genuinely oblivious to what he was struggling to say.

“I’m not a mind-reader.” You replied, arching a brow and unable to hide the small tells of a smile on your face when he seemed to soften at your words.

He knew you were teasing him, but he also knew he wasn’t going to get what he wanted if he didn’t say it outright.

“I was hoping you’d help me decorate, like, help me pick out some furniture or what paint to get for the walls kind of thing. I know you’re not gonna be living with me, but I want you to stay over and feel comfortable enough to maybe, I don’t know, like…stay there when your roommate or neighbours are pissing you off, or to have a key, or to move in with me at some point in the future.” You could feel his hand tracing absentminded shapes into the sheets under the covers, and his eyes seemed intent on avoiding looking anywhere near your direction, instead choosing to dart from his pillow, to the vintage poster of Sidney Crosby on the back of your door, to your bedside light. Everywhere but you.

There was a brief moment when he was talking that you were almost a little worried he was going to ask you to move in then and there – and while that certainly wasn’t an unappealing option at all, you were still getting used to each other. Your relationship was pretty new, and Jamie was still adjusting, and the last thing either of you needed was to amp up the intensity at this moment in time when it could just as equally prove to be as disastrous as good.

But when he’d said ‘some point in the future’, all of that dissipated into thin air.

“The first house.” You mumbled, trying to catch his attention. It seemed to do the trick pretty effectively, because even though his eyes were wide, he was hanging on to everything you said with a look so intense that it rivalled the one you’d only seen him use on the ice. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was holding his breath, “That’s my favourite.”

He swallowed, pushing his head a little off the pillow, cheeks a little red at the insinuation behind your words, “It’s my favourite too.”

“I know.” You grinned, “But–”

He tensed.

“But I do think you should make some decisions only on your own, because it’s gonna be your house. If you need help or advice, that’s fine, but I think you also need to do this for yourself – get comfy in Philly.”

He twisted his mouth in consideration, “You’d tell me if you hated something that I picked though, right? Or if I–”

“If you pick it, I’ll probably like it.”

He blinked, before rolling his eyes, “That’s very reassuring–”

“I just mean, I liked your house in Anaheim and you did that up–” you cringed, “Well, partly–”

“Thanks for that reminder, yeah.” He quipped, nodding sarcastically.

He’d partly redecorated his house back in LA, but he’d never gotten round to finishing it because, well, he got traded, and it was still a bit of a stinger.

“Sorry.” You said, genuinely feeling guilty for having brought it up in such a profoundly important conversation.

He shrugged, smiling rather defeatedly, “It’s fine. I mean, I really like it here. I actually…” he hesitated, looking at you unsurely and rather guiltily, and you grinned, knowing he was about to say something very honest, “I prefer playing for the Flyers.”

Your jaw dropped, before you dissolved into laughter, “I can tell.”

“You can? Is it obvious?” He looked so concerned that your chest physically warmed at the sight, and you shook your head in response, but it was clear he could see through your little white lie.

There was a lull in the conversation after that, and he laid his head back down opposite you, blinking sleepily. There was something in the back of your mind, something related to what he’d said, that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep properly without mentioning it to him at least, and just as you were about to open your mouth, he stopped you with a furrowed brow.

“What’s up?” He asked, and you halted.

You didn’t know why it was such a shock that he could read you so easily, but it was – in an entirely good way.

“Just, for a second earlier, I was worried you were gonna ask me to move in with you.” You admitted, watching him closely.

He paused for a second, taking in your words, before comically gasping, “Is the thought of moving in with me that horrific?”

“You’re just a really loud sleeper.” You played along, rolling your eyes and enjoying the gentle nudge to your shin.

You both knew that statement was wholly untrue; sure, he snored occasionally, but it wasn’t at a disruptable, pillow over your ears, no sleep, forcefully rolling him over level. And it was only when he had a cold.

“I can imagine it’s a pain, yeah. I shuffle, too, and I, oh, how could I forget? I steal the duvet and refuse to cuddle. That must be awful.” He groaned, the sound melting into one of soft laughter as he failed to keep up the act.

Of course, none of those things were true.

“Seriously, though?” He asked next, his amusement replaced by seriousness.

“I just think it’d have been too soon.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, “But also, for future reference, if I was asking you to move in with me, you’d know.”

A WHILE LATER (A YEAR AND A BIT)

You pulled a face, toothbrush frozen midway to your mouth, the splodge of toothpaste wobbling at the sudden halt. You were staring at the reflection of the man standing next to you, washing his face as though what he’d just said wasn’t both confusing or an entirely big deal if it meant what you thought.

He grabbed a towel from the radiator rack next to him, wiping his face, and it was when he looked back into the mirror, his eyes sliding from his reflection to your utterly stunned look of complete disbelief, that he faltered, a grave look appearing on his face.

You’d both just crawled out of bed, motivated by the knowledge that his parents were arriving in Philly later today and neither of you had completely finished tidying his house, because, lo and behold, the consequence of having multiple rooms and bathrooms meant that it’d take three times the amount of time to clean them all before guests arrived. Currently you were still in your PJs, and the only change Jamie had made to his appearance since getting out of bed was to pull a pair of joggers over his boxers.

It was an awfully domestic scene, and something that had been happening increasingly more often as of the last few months – again, you weren’t complaining – but that hypocrite—

“Say that again.” You said, lowering your toothbrush.

Jamie blinked, stuttering, “Say what again?”

“What you just said.”

“Why don’t I tidy out some of the cabinet so you can move your stuff in?” He said unsurely, his brows knitted in confusion, towel patting his face dry in a manner that meant he could still see you properly.

“Why would you need—Why?”

He froze like a deer caught in headlights – so, so, so adorably confused.

“So you can have space to put your stuff…” he trailed off, his mouth parting in realisation, “You’ve been here at least five out of seven days a week for the past four months, and even then you only went back to your apartment to bring back almost out of date food and some clean clothes.”

You turned to him for real this time, face-to-face, mildly unimpressed and mostly entertained because of his unawareness as to what it sounded like he was implying. Only, this time, you had a feeling you were right, and this time you weren’t the slightest bit worried about him asking.

Only, when you turned to face him, instead of the confusion written on his face – somewhere between the time it had taken you to blink and turn, he was on one knee on the tiles, a cheeky grin on his face that immediately let you know you’d been had and that had entirely been his intention all along.

It still didn’t stop your heart hammering madly in your chest at the sight of him in such a position, and even though you knew what he was and wasn’t about to ask, your mind was now skipping ahead to marriage.

“I know I promised you’d know when I asked you to move in with me, but I couldn’t resist messing with you a little bit–” he laughed and tried to dodge you when you lightly kicked his knee to throw him slightly off balance, but his neither his smile or his resilience faded, “and I figured this would be as obvious as it gets, so…” he inhaled, attempting to appear suddenly serious, “Will you please do me the honour of moving in with me?”

You were grinning, “No.”

There was a beat, and all in one moment his entire face seemed to drop as he looked even more befuddled towards the floor, mind presumably racing with just where he’d gone wrong this time, and if you didn’t know your own intentions, you’d say the silence was awkward, but you could never leave him looking that dejected for too long.

Your heart couldn't bear it.

“I’m kidding, ‘course I’ll move in with you.”

He sighed, pushing himself up to stand and taking your hand as an offer for help in the process, before rolling his eyes fondly and kissing your temple, “Yeah, I love you too.”

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale oneshot #jamie drysdale imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine

340 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

Church Girl

Oscar Piastri x Autistic!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Request: no (check masterlist for request status)

Summary: Church has a tendency to make people feel unwanted. When reader goes to visit her family, they convince her to go with them to the place she’s trying to forget. Good thing Oscar is there with her.

Warnings: toxic religious folk, religious trauma, creepy old men, panic attacks

Notes: okay so this goes out to my neurodivergents who were stuck in a church that didn’t understand them with peers who made them feel like they were an alien, adults who were always asking the wrong questions and judging their clothes, and were forced into the stereotypes they wanted you to fit in. Fire Drill by Melanie Martinez was on repeat while writing this.

This is loosely based on true events

Masterlist

Summer break is here which means it’s time to go visit family. She and Oscar board the plane to her home country, all smiles and laughs.

She’s missed them since being away. Her family hasn’t always understood her, but she loves them dearly.

When they arrived they were greeted with hugs and questions about the trip.

At the dinner table that night, Oscar was quick to realize that he didn’t fully realize how religious his girlfriends family is. It seemed to be their favorite topic.

The girl next to him was struggling with the conversation and he could feel her stimming under the table. She’d talked about her church experience a little with him. He didn’t want to push her so he didn’t know the full extent of everything that happened. He recalls her mom having to put up with some horrible people and the tears over how it hurt her to see her mom so broken in a place she should feel loved. How her sister felt she would never be good enough for their expectations. How her dad uses is to control them sometimes.

And yet they’d convinced them to go with. Well- more like she was trying to please and wants to spend time with her family.

In the lonesome of their room that night, she collapsed into him.

“I think I might vomit.”

He simply hold her. “Do you want to talk about it? We can always say we changed our minds.” He suggests. His attempt at reassuring her futile as she panics more.

“The people there judge so critically. It didn’t help that I was weird to kids my age and mature enough for the adults to ask me why I’m showing my shoulders because they’re a distraction.”

Oscar hums in understanding. Carful not to interrupt her explanation but still show he’s listening.

“They say it’s a stereotype, but it’s true. I’ve been teased and looked down on and made out to be over dramatic. My old youth pastor used to talk to my mom about my ‘behavior’ and how I argued with him to much. Then I yelled at him for getting in my personal space and saying things an adult should never say to a child, in my opinion. I was constantly told I talk to much about the wrong things and not enough about the right.”

Though Oscar’s shirt is getting wet, he doesn’t care. Her more harmful stimming habits are showing as he’s determined not to let that happen. She plays with his fingers instead. “I can’t do it Jack.”

The endearing nickname alerts him this is serious. He didn’t know how far this trauma had been rooted inside her. No wonder she struggles with her self-esteem, she was told her entire life she’d never measure up. She’d endured hours of countless awkward conversations and events she couldn’t wait to leave.

The worst part is that he knows it’s why she apologizes for everything. It didn’t matter how much she tried to look ‘normal’ she couldn’t get it right and people were mad at her for it.

“I will leave it up to you, but say the word and I’ll have us out of here in an hour.”

Oscar had half a mind just to feign sickness and tell them they can’t go. The girl pacing the room had yet to get dressed or pull the plug and say she doesn’t want to go.

“I say wear something comfortable and scandalous.” He leans back on the bed with a smirk.

“Since when are you so evil? And are you crazy? I’d get eaten by judgmental stares.”

“Let them stare. You deserve to be comfortable in whatever you wear without feeling judged and preyed on.”

They took a separate car from her parents. Partially because they wanted to leave early, mostly because in case of emergency they had an escape vehicle.

He could feel her trying to self soothe in the passenger seat. She’d finally settled for her favorite pair of pants and his sweatshirt. Comfort clothes for a hard situation definitely seemed like the best option.

He held her hand as they walked to the front door and stopped right outside. “Remember you’re not stuck. We can leave anytime you want.” She nods her head appreciatively, then they step through the doors.

He felt like the were underdressed. Which is an absolutely ridiculous notion because it’s eight in the morning and he’d rather be asleep. How these people look dressed for a ball at this hour is beyond him.

Oscar spots her family amongst the sea of people and weaves them into their vicinity.

“Y/N, hi! How are you? It’s been so long!” Chirps an elderly woman who awkwardly embraces the girl. She’s still as a board and yet the lady doesn’t get the hint.

“I’m alright.” She smiles politely.

“And who’s this young man?”

“My boyfriend, Oscar.”

He reaches out his hand to her and she shakes it. “It’s nice to meet you.” He offers his media coached smile.

“Oh are you two planning on settling down? Having kids?”

She shuffles awkwardly looking for a response. She hates invasive questions like these. Now would normally be where an inappropriate joke about Lando practically being their child would go but she thinks that might be wrong. But what’s even right in this situation?

“Not currently. I travel for work majority of the year so it would be difficult to start a family.” She’s grateful Oscar knows to manage conversation.

“Oh well… that’s to bad.” Then the woman shuffles away.

“I told you it’s bad.”

“I see your point. Did you know her?”

“No but apparently everyone is allowed to talk to you like that even if you just know a persons name because we’re a ‘church family’.

As they wait for the service to start, they pass the time by people watching. Snickering at the obvious fake smiles and perfect families people show off on Sunday mornings.

They are rudely interrupted by a male probably in his forties. “Excuse me, I have got to ask, are you two siblings?”

He must be newer, she thinks to herself, it’s not like she’s been gone that long. She shakes her head at the man, one hand in Oscar’s the other inside the sweatshirt pocket. “No sir, we’re dating actually.”

“That’s a real shock. He’s a keeper if that’s how you dress all the time and he still chose you.” His comment is directed at her. The social analysis kicking in. Is this sarcasm? Or maybe a joke she doesn’t get? Is he being serious?

“What do you mean by that?” Oscar is quick to ask back. Again, saving her from most likely saying something she shouldn’t.

“Most guys enjoy when a girl wears appropriate female clothing. I’m just saying she’s lucky to have you if this is what she wears all the time.” He eyes her up and down. “Would be prettier in a dress I reckon.”

“Nope. She’s pretty in everything she wears.” Oscar is dragging her off in the opposite direction before turning around. “Also, sir, I’m the lucky one.”

The service is long and boring. The two pass notes back and forth like they are in high school. Though they aren’t necessarily trying to hide the fact they are doing it.

When it’s over, they quickly tell her parents they are heading out because truthfully, the girl is in the verge of a meltdown from the over stimulation.

They get almost to the door before being stopped again by the last person she wanted to ever see again. Her old youth pastor.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you were ever coming back!” He goes to hug her but she steps back. Almost using Oscar as a barrier. “Awe don’t be like that.” He pouts.

“We were actually just heading out.” Oscar steps in. He didn’t like how the man is eyeing her. It’s uncomfortable for him and even more so for her.

“And you are…?”

“Oscar, her boyfriend.”

A look of shock spreads across his face. “That’s gooier to hear. I didn’t think she’d ever find someone.” Oscar doesn’t hesitate to use his sarcasm and over expressive facial expressions as he feigns curiosity.

“Why’s that?”

“I could never get her to shut up about things that weren’t important. And after the lengthy discussion we had with the board about her argumentative attitude with her male superiors, I just thought it would never happen.”

She didn’t tell him about that one. Oscar can see out of the corner of his eye how her head drops in shame. He doesn’t let go of her hand. “So you work with kids but when one doesn’t act the way you want you take to abusive behaviors? Glad to see a church full of people who are supposed to be loving are letting their youth get hurt by adults.” He says launder then necessary, but it gets his point across because people heard him.

He turns in his heels and places a protective arm around her waist as they walk to the car.

He knows she’s overstimulated, so he tries lets her go at her own pace when they get back to her parents house. The spare key still in the same place it’s been for years, so no need to wait outside.

In the safety of the room, she latches herself onto the Aussie. “I’m sorry.”

He holds her and does his best to soothe her. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. Those people are sick, I swear. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

“That meeting was the worst day of my life. Sitting in a room with a bunch of older men telling me how to behave. They made some jokes that they shouldn’t have and told me I’d never have a good life if I kept acting like I had been.” She’s wailing now.

Oscar can practically hear his hear shatter. How could people be so ignorant and blind?

“They said that my autism isn’t an excuse and that I need to try harder. Then they said maybe one of them can take me under their wing and show me how to treat a man right. I was barely eighteen.”

They spent the night like that. Her crying into his shoulder and him trying to calm her down. She fell asleep in his arms and he didn’t have the heart to move her and risk waking her up.

He couldn’t fathom someone telling her her brain being different means she’s not good enough. It’s what makes her unique in his eyes. How could someone not love the way her eyes light up when she talks about those interests that she never gets tired of. How her honesty and ability to stand her ground make conversations with her never dull.

Oscar leans down and kisses her head. “I don’t care who says you aren’t good enough, they are lying. You are for more then enough and I feel so special that you love me and are willing to share those pieces of yourself with me.”

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theemissuniverse · 6 months

Text

“IMPENDING DOOM” SHAO KAHN X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : You are an Earthrealm warrior. Shao Kahn challenges you. He will stop his attack on Earthrealm if you win the fight against him. If you do not, you will marry him and become his bride. (Spoiler alert, ya dumbass loses) also plot change, you save Kung Lao at the tournament so bro doesn’t die. Hurray for you! (This is also one of my favorite things I wrote and idk why)

A/N : Also Shao Kahn >>> General Shao. But also side note HOW DID KUNG LAO DIE IN MK 9 LIKE DID THEY NOT SEE SHAO KAHN WALKING UP BEHIND BRO????

A/N : Also on the note, I feel like in my personal opinion, y’all characterize Shao Kahn wrong. I feel like if Shao Kahn were to have a lover, he’d actually be more gentle with them and treat them like a goddess. Just because he’s a bad guy doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a soft spot. Like he has one for Sindel, Mileena and Skarlet so I would just assume he would have one for his lover

A/N : Also ALSO this is written more so like for the reader to be curvy/chubby but you can imagine her not being that way if you please

WARNINGS : (MDNI)! f receiving, breeding kink, slight dirty talk, some praise, unsafe p in v, insecurities

Here’s part 2

MASTERLIST

You couldn’t stand him. He was so smug about the whole ordeal. The truth was you didn’t know if you guys would win. Johnny was already down so now that was one less warrior.

Liu Kang went to try and free Kitana. You just stood there and impatiently watched the scene.

Shao Kahn however couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He had met you previously and became rather obsessed with you. He claimed you would be his soon enough. He would stand by that claim too.

Kung Lao had defeated both Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. It had been surprising. Sure, Kung Lao was an excellent fighter but those two were excellent sorcerers.

That’s when you saw it. Shao Kahn walking up behind him. “No!” You were the closest one to him. You immediately grabbed Kung Lao and switched him over to behind you. You then kicked Shao Kahn with your flying kick so hard that it knocked him down.

Gasps were heard. At this point, Liu Kang had freed Kitana. You went over and helped Kung Lao up. “He was going to kill you.” You informed him.

Liu Kang helped Kung Lao up a little and brought him closer to him and Kitana. You looked at Shao Kahn, awaiting for his reaction.

He does not react the way you expect him to. A low dark chuckle erupts from his throat. He is amused.

Shao Kahn stands up from the ground. You can see the intimidating look he gave behind his mask. “I like women that have fire.”

You rolled your eyes slightly. Shao Kahn had been trying to use his advances on you since he had met you and of course, none of it worked. “You’re done, Shao Kahn. You’re just mad that Kung Lao best you. Don’t be a poor sport about it.”

“Poor sport? Care to make this interesting?”

“What are you going on about?”

Shao Kahn started to circle you and by instinct, you circled with him. He stared you down from your head to your toes. “Fight me. If you can best me, I will attack Earthrealm no longer.”

You were surprised. He would stop attacking Earthrealm just like that? What you didn’t understand was why he was willing to take that kind of risk. You may be no Liu Kang but you were one of Earthrealm’s top defenders. The best female fighter.

“Just like that?” You questioned not believing the tyrant.

“Just like that.” He confirmed with you.

You looked him up and down, trying to figure him out. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re already trying to conquer Earthrealm. So what more do you want? What do you want if I were to lose?”

Shao Kahn had a deep chuckle at that question. He was waiting for you to ask him that. “It’s very simple. You will marry me and become my Empress. I need a strong, well put together woman and you are exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

You actually couldn’t believe it. You would have to marry Shao Kahn if you lost? You stopped circling around him and Shao Kahn stopped as well. You were too shocked to speak.

You found your voice though and shook your head. “Fuck you.” You were about to walk away but the sound of his voice made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Afraid you’ll lose? That’s hilarious. You’re one of Earthrealm’s strongest fighters and even you believe you cannot best me? Pathetic.”

You absolutely hated him because he knew how to push your buttons. You turned back around to face him. It was like you were almost accepting his challenge.

Liu Kang looked between the two of you before walking over to you. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N). Do not. He is not to be trusted. Even if you do win, he most likely will not keep his end of the deal.”

“I am a man of my word, Earthrealmer.” Shao Kahn stated as if he was almost offended Liu Kang would even suggest that. “Come on, (Y/N). I say it’s a win win. Saving Earthrealm or marrying me? What could be better than that.”

You scoffed at his cockiness. You turned your attention to Raiden, seeing if he approved with what you were about to do. Raiden seemed unsure but he nodded for you to do whatever you had to do.

Turning your attention back on Shao Kahn, you took some steps forward. “You gonna buy me a pony if I win?” You couldn’t help but sarcastically say.

Shao Kahn chuckled. Oh, did he love your nature. You had a lot of bark for someone that was an Earthrealmer. That’s what intrigued him so much. “Oh, I will give you more than you can imagine.”

You rolled your eyes slightly but did not say anything. You took your fighting stance and Shao took his.

Instantly, you started with offense. You punched, kicked, and continued this pattern and Shao blocked every hit you tried to connect.

You were very confused because Shao did not try to be offensive with you. He was on defense. This pattern continued for some time until you gave him a great big push.

When you did so, he did not react to it. You tilted your head at him. “Why are you going easy on me?”

“I prefer my Empress to not be so bruised up.”

That’s when Shao started to turn into offensive mode and you were on your defense. He swung his hammer at you about a thousand times and you ducked every hit.

Shao Kahn punched you in the gut and then kicked you in the stomach. You fell down on your back.

You felt the wind get knocked from you. You had to regain your composure quickly. You moved to the right when he tried to stomp you while you were on the ground. Then you swept his feet and he had fallen on the ground.

Shao Kahn groaned in pain. You smirked to him. Shao did not give up easily in the slightest. The Emperor got up and charged at you.

You ducked every hit that tried to come in contact with you. Every blow he tried to throw it did not connect. Until one of the eventually did.

His right fist connected with your face. You fell to the ground instantly.

Shao Kahn felt slightly bad. Your lip was bleeding and it looked pretty bad but he could not show it. You felt your lip as blood leaked onto your white shirt.

You got up and stood your ground. He was impressed to be completely honest. Most female Earthrealm warriors would’ve cried or backed out by now. Not you. That’s why he liked you so much.

You went to kick at his stomach but Shao moved out the way. He went to hit you in your chest but you blocked his movement. Finally, you landed an uppercut and it made Shao Kahn stumble back a bit. This time Shao was bleeding a little.

Shao felt his nose and nothing but a smirk came on his lips when he saw the blood trickle down his finger. It was your turn to be surprised. You knew he was sadistic but you did not know he would enjoy you hurting him.

With you being distracted, Shao hit you in the chest with his left fist and then kicked you in your stomach, making you fall to your knees.

Shao backhanded you and you fell to the ground. You groaned in pain. Usually Shao would kick his enemies while they were down but he would not do that with you.

He picked you up by the shirt and saw your weakened condition. “Say it.”

You didn’t want to but he was stronger than you. You felt as though you failed everyone. You could not believe that he had actually beat you.

You were too weak to go on and everyone knew that after seeing the fight. You signed some and made sure not to look at him in his eyes. “I concede.”

Shao Kahn smirked. He helped you to your feet and helped you stand properly. Shao wiped the blood that was leaking from your mouth.

The blood was on his fingers. Shao Kahn placed the fingers in his mouth and sucked the blood off. You looked at him a bit disgusted by his action.

“The tournament will be paused.” Shao Kahn told the Earthrealmers. “I have a bride that needs to get ready.”

You tried to hold back your eye roll. Shao Kahn made Quan Chi open up a portal and Shao Kahn made you come through it with him.

Shao Kahn had some business to attend to before handling you so you were sent to his room. You actually could not believe how big his room was.

You walked further into the room. The bed was the biggest thing about the room. He had a full wardrobe, a big shower and bath and big windows.

The room was dark. Not in the lighting sense but the color. It was red and black. You were not surprised by this in the slightest.

A knock was on the door. You didn’t know if you should even say ‘come in’ because well this was just now your room. “Come in?” You questioned more so then said.

A woman that had looked just like Kitana but had tarkatan features entered your room with clothes. “Father, said to give you these.”

You had realized that this was Mileena. You carefully took the clothes out of her hands. “Thanks.”

“I’m so excited! I will have a mother finally! Father, says you are a strong woman. I don’t quite see it but I believe in his intuition.”

You didn’t know if you should’ve been offended or not. You also felt a little bad. Usually, you had a pretty good tell if people were evil but Mileena didn’t really seem like she was evil to you. “Your father is an annoying tyrant and I cannot stand him.”

Mileena laughed a little. You had to admit, it was a bit unsettling. “Father said you would say something like that. We’ll be a family shortly, dear. Do not worry.”

That bad feeling came back to you. Mileena seemed to be desperate to have a family and you could understand that. From what you were told, she was Shang Tsung’s experiment so she most likely did not have a sense of identity. “Hopefully I don’t claw my eyes out in the process.”

“I’ll let you get changed.” Mileena left the room, leaving you there.

You changed into the outfit. It was a long fitted red gown with lace attached to the back. The problem was that it showed off your stomach and you were a little bit on the chubbier and curvier side.

You sighed a little then looked down to realize that your thighs also did the same thing. The clothing wasn’t too revealing. (Surprisingly for Shao Kahn’s taste) but it was revealing in all the places you did not want it revealed.

The door opened and closed. You turned to look to see Shao Kahn had stepped in. He was about to say something but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

You were the most gorgeous woman in all of Outworld to him. Hell, even in all the universe. He mentally thanked himself that he put you in that outfit because god, to him, it was doing you a lot of good.

“You look breath taking, My Empress.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the mirror. “Cut the shit.” You told him and he laughed. “What is so funny?”

“Your Earthrealm language is amusing.”

“I’ll show you amusing.” You more so mumbled under your breath. Shao Kahn heard you but he chose not to say anything.

Shao Kahn had placed his things on the table next to you. When he did, he saw you staring at yourself in the mirror. He noticed the looks you were giving yourself. “Stop looking at yourself like that.”

You didn’t bother to look at Shao Kahn. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. “Like what?”

“Like you don’t appreciate what you are seeing.”

You didn’t respond to him. You continued to stare at yourself in the mirror, trying to convince yourself that the outfit looked good on you. You couldn’t get with it. “It doesn’t flatter me.” You told him truthfully.

Shao Kahn did not understand what you meant. “What do you mean?”

You gave him a look like he should know. You pointed to your stomach that was sticking out. “Do you not see this? I look like I’m pregnant.”

Don’t play into that because the thought of getting you pregnant drove Shao Kahn crazy. Shao Kahn stood behind you. He grabbed onto your stomach and gave it soft rubs despite his hands being so large and rough. “This is a body of a woman.”

Shao was in love with your curvy body. With all parts about you. Your stomach, your thighs, and definitely your ass. He was obsessed with every part of you.

You were surprised at how good his hands felt on your body. You wanted to fight it but you had given into his rough touches.

Shao Kahn started to rub all over your body and massage you. Your back, your neck, your stomach, your arms. He was rubbing everywhere he could rub. “This is a body of my Empress. I would not have you any other way.”

You were severely confused. Severely. Shao Kahn was a tyrant that only cared for his goals and his pleasure but here he was, rubbing you down, talking to you sweetly and making you feel good about yourself.

You slightly moaned at his touches. His hands felt like the Elder Gods themselves. You didn’t want the feeling of his hands all over you to stop.

But you had to snap yourself out of it. You hated this man. He ruined you. He was taking over Earthrealm as he was doing all this for you.

Shao Kahn was not a good man.

You broke out of his hold and pushed him back. “For the record, I did not enjoy that. I am just touched starved.”

He chuckled a little at your statement. He knew you liked it but he would play along into your bit for now. “Touch starved? When was the last time a man touched you like that?”

It felt like never to be honest. “None of your business. Now give me my space.” You were again, surprised that Shao Kahn had listened.

You touched the veil that went over your hair and it was long, down to your back and to the back of your legs.

“That Earthrealmer seems fond of you.” Shao said, breaking the silence.

You were confused as you fixed your earrings. “Who? No one is fond of me.”

“Liu Kang. I see the way he looks at you.”

You rolled your eyes a little at that but still didn’t look at him. “He’s just my friend. He just cares about me. Not that you would know about the caring for someone department.”

Shao Kahn watched as you put your earrings on. He honestly wanted to push your buttons. He found it extremely amusing. “Soon, I will have my victory. And I’ll kill him. He will be burned by his own fire.”

The statement pissed you off to no end. You couldn’t control your temper. You turned around to face him and you slapped him across the face, hard. You almost knocked his mask off.

Shao Kahn did not show you a reaction. You were waiting to be slapped back. Waiting for him to try and maybe beat on you mercilessly.

What you didn’t know is slapping him across the face turned him on. In fact, he started to feel himself become erect.

You looked at him puzzled. “Aren’t you going to hit me back?”

“Now, why would I do that?” You didn’t respond to him. Shao Kahn’s hands went behind the back of your head and he fixed the veil on top of your head.

The two of you didn’t speak a word as he fixed it. You just watched him. You couldn’t believe it.

When he was done, he pulled away. “Meet me down in the dining hall for dinner.”

Shao Kahn walked out the room and closed the door. You just stood there in complete shock.

This was going to be interesting.

You decided that keeping Shao Kahn waiting wasn’t a good idea and you walked out of the room. You went downstairs all the way to where dinner was to be served.

There sat Shang Tsung, Quan Chi, Reiko, Mileena, and Reptile. You weren’t really intimidated by the sorcerers, Mileena, or Reptile but you were by Reiko because you had never met him.

They all stood from their seat and bowed to you. You gave them a look, weirded out. “What the hell are you people doing?”

“Showing respect to new Empress. Well almost Empress.” Shang Tsung stated simply.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” You grumbled under your breath. You were about to grab a chair and sit down but Shao Kahn’s voice stopped you.

“You do not sit there.” He motioned for you to sit on the throne that was across from him. “You sit there.”

You looked to the throne and then back to him. “You people take these Outworld politics way too far.” You said before sitting on the throne. “For the record, I still hate all of you…besides Mileena.”

Mileena giggled at this. “You will learn to enjoy our company eventually, Empress.” Quan Chi told you.

“Yeah right. I’d rather have Sub-Zero freeze me to death then-“ Your statement was cut off when a servant set food on the table. When she did, you realized the meal was consistent of all your favorite foods.

You rose your eyebrows confused that he had knew this information and you looked back at Shao Kahn. “How did you know I like this?”

“I know everything.”

You looked back at the food and then back at him. “This does not earn you brownie points.” You lied to him, pointing your finger at him.

Shao Kahn smirked, knowing you were lying to him. He watched as you began to eat. When he did so, he noticed Reiko was staring at you.

You started to notice Reiko’s stare and it was making you a little bit uncomfortable. Especially because you didn’t know him very well.

Shao Kahn looked at you then turned his attention to Reiko. “Reiko. Do you like breathing?”

Reiko looked at the Kahn a bit confused at the question since the answer was obvious. He couldn’t have an attitude though when addressing him. “Yes, Shao Kahn.”

“Then I suggest you stop staring at her before I have to put an end to that.”

It was so bizarre to you seeing Shao Kahn stick up for you but you chose to block the feeling in the pit of your stomach out and continue eating.

When you were done, you were getting ready for bed. You wore a red nightgown and fixed your head up for bed. One thing you were not looking forward to is sleeping in the same bed as Shao Kahn.

You took your earrings off and were placing them on the dresser. You heard the bathroom door open and you saw Shao Kahn walk out with a towel wrapped around himself.

You were taken aback. First of all, you had never seen Shao Kahn without his armor. You never seen his face.

His face was very masculine. All the right areas were sharp. His nose was big and pointed down. His eyes were a dark red. As red as the color of blood. His head was round but chin was pointed down. Again, he had strong masculine features.

I mean, he was a big man but you did not expect for him to be that big. His chest stood strong and some scars were around his rib cage. Probably from fighting in kombat.

He looked so…good. So, good that you felt a pool of wetness come between your legs.

‘God. I really am touch starved. There’s no way I find a psychopath dictator hot.’ You thought to yourself.

Shao Kahn walked over to the mirror to examine himself. “You’re staring.”

Of course he knew you were. You scoffed and turned away from him. “Am not.” You tried taking the necklace off your neck. “I just never seen you without your helmet.”

Shao Kahn turned to you and smirked. “Is it something you like?”

“Hardly.” You lied.

Shao noticed you struggling to get your necklace off. He walked up behind you and his hands went to your neck. You released your hold on the necklace and allowed him to do it.

You felt himself press up against you. You gasped a little. Oh, he was big. Extremely big. You probably should’ve guessed since he was a big man but you still did not expect for him to be that big.

“Don’t act like you don’t feel it.”

Ugh, you hated his cocky self. “I’ve met men who had bigger.”

Shao Kahn chuckled knowing you were lying. “Sure you have.” He took off the necklace and placed it on the desk. He grabbed a pair of boxers and placed them on him.

Reality was starting to hit you. You were actually forced to marry this tyrant. You were going to be his wife. You were going to be Empress of Outworld. You were going to be on the same side as people you once found to be your enemies.

Shao Kahn started to lay in the bed. You turned to him with your hands on your hips. “So, when do you plan to marry me? I’d like to get this over with.”

“After I win the tournament.”

“Tuh. Who says you’ll win?”

“I am Shao Kahn. Kahn of Outworld. They will taste no victory.”

Everything within you hated him. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why couldn’t he just leave Earthrealm alone? “You’re such a dick, you know that? You literally invaded Edenia and claimed it to be your own. You rule Outworld with an iron fist. Is that not enough? You need to take my home too?”

Shao Kahn didn’t speak. It was like he was contemplating on what he was going to say. The tiniest part of him felt bad but at the end of the day, he was a sadistic ruler. He did not care for anything else. “This is your home now.”

You shook your head. “If this is your way of winning me over, you’re pretty shitty at it.” You told him point blank.

After you turned off all the lights, you got into bed and faced the left side which was the opposite way so you weren’t facing him.

Shao Kahn knew you were mad but you would get over it eventually. He was Kahn of Outworld. You would want him. He also knew you. He knew you craved power just like he did. You just were better at hiding it. That’s why through out your entire stay, you did not throw a fuss at him taking care of you.

He knew you liked he was taking care of you. You just didn’t want to admit it because you didn’t want to be the bad guy.

Shao Kahn grabbed the blanket and laid it on top of you. His hand instinctively went to the inner part of your thigh so he could pull you closer to him but when he did, he felt how wet you were.

You mentally cursed yourself for being so turned on earlier. Shao was at your ear. His breath made the back of your hairs stand up. “Why don’t you let me take care of that.”

Before you could say anything, Shao’s hands were already on it. He pulled your panties down slightly and placed his fingers over your clit. Then he started to rub in circles.

You let out a deep moan that you felt like you had been holding in for the longest. Shao made sure to be more gentle because he knew he was heavy handed. He didn’t need to apply that much pressure to your clit because his hands were so big.

Shao Kahn kissed your neck as you let out a string of profanities. It was far more sensitive when he was rubbing it.

He had already been hard but you felt him grow even more and you didn’t believe it was possible for him to be that big. You felt his member grow on your ass.

This was a mistake. You would regret it. Absolutely would but at the moment you didn’t care. The way he was taking care of you now gave you more than enough reason to let him keep going.

You were surprised that he wasn’t eager to fuck you. He was taking his time making sure that you got all the foreplay that you needed.

Shao stuck his fingers in your pussy and started to pump in and out of you. His fingers were big so they worked well inside you.

You moaned even louder and started to move on his fingers to feel more of him. “I will show you how an Emperor takes care of his Empress.” Shao told you.

He removed his fingers from your pussy and licked all over them. You tasted so pleasant to him that he had let out a groan at the taste.

Shao Kahn took off his boxers. Then he got up and hovered over you. He took off your underwear completely and threw it on the floor. His dick slapped against your stomach. Just looking at him above you turned you on.

He picked up your legs and dragged you down to him so your pussy was right on his dick. Then Shao entered you. He made sure to enter you very slowly, knowing how big he was.

You let out the biggest moan and threw your head back. Shao moved very slowly in you, grunting at how good your pussy clenched onto him.

He filled you completely and you didn’t know whether you loved it or hated it. You moaned each time he thrusted in you. “Faster, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Shao Kahn went faster inside of you. Usually, he would go very rough and hard but he would do something different for your guy’s first time. (Yes, he was that sure in himself that this would happen again.)

“Oh my god. Yes. Oh my god. Shao.”

“That’s right. Scream my name. Let everyone know how good I’m making you feel.”

Shao Kahn watched as your stomach jiggled with each thrust. He licked his lips and felt all over your stomach. “Mine. All mine.”

You could barely form words. It felt like everything was becoming blurry. He buried himself inside you like you were the only woman he was interested in. Like you were the only woman in the world.

“No other man can have you.” Shao told you as he fucked you. You started to pant heavily. He wrapped your legs around his waist and started to pound even harder. “You will give me children. I will bury my seed in you.”

He was fucking you so good that him cumming inside of you seemed like the best idea in the world. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Yes. Yes.”

“That’s it. Take all of me. You’re so good.” The overwhelming amount of pleasure Shao was giving you was far too much. You started to cry. Shao noticed this and he brought his hand to your eyes and wiped the tears. “I know, my Empress. You can cum soon. Wait for me.”

You didn’t think that was possible. He was hitting in all the right spots. “Please don’t stop.”

Shao loved you being so needy for him. “Oh, I don’t plan to.” The sound of skin to skin contact and your moans filled the room. When he saw you were trying to cover you mouth to conceal your moans, Shao slapped your thigh. “Move your hand.”

You whimpered some but removed it. “I-oh-don’t wanna be-oh my god-too loud.”

“I do. In fact, I need you to be louder.” The way you clenched on him made him throw his head back. He started to become close.

Your nails dug into his arms and clawed at him until he was dripping blood. That only turned him on more.

Pants started to turn into high pitch shrieks. You were too close. You didn’t think you could keep it up much longer. “I can’t.”

“Aw, you’re doing so good though.” Shao Kahn pounded into you a bit rougher. “I thought you didn’t like me but look at you. You’re about to fall apart.”

You dug your nails in more harshly and he grunted at it. The pain felt too good for him. “Please, please, please. I’m so close.”

Talking to him was doing the job. “Oh yes.” He gripped your thighs tighter to keep you in place. He planned to cum inside you and he was going to accomplish that. “Make a mess on me. Cum on your Emperor.”

The two of you released. You squirted all over his chest. He came inside you hard. So hard you could actually feel it. You moaned loudly, screaming his name.

Shao kept going until he knew you were fully done. He slowly pulled out of you and then rubbed your stomach. “You were always mine but now you are indefinitely mine.”

You could not believe you just did that.

TO BE CONTINUED????

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