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mrs-elsie-barnes · 9 months ago

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The Great Bucky Bake Off | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 3.5k words

An Avengers retreat takes a turn for the better when Bucky decides to eat your pot brownies… all of the pot brownies.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content. Drinking, casual drug use, Avengers wearing onesies for reasons, very flirty Bucky, p in v & oral sex. Rated R for ridiculous.

A/N: Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Okay, ‘fess up, who ate all my brownies?” You turned to stare down the rest of the team, admittedly a little slow on your feet already.

The scene in the living room could only be described as chaotic. When Tony suggested he fly the team out to his remote cabin for “rest, recuperation and team building”, you had been fully on board. You were even more on board when he had you buy everyone fluffy animal onesies and you’d signed yourself up to a lifetime of being obsessed with your job the day you received an email to source as much weed, alcohol and Asgardian liquor as possible. Being the Avengers PA certainly had its perks.

“Not me!” Steve admitted, far too quickly. “I didn’t eat them.” He shook his head, sending the dog ears on top of his onesie flopping about.

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, you sure know something.” He looked the picture of innocence until he pulled Sam into the conversation.

“Tell 'er Sam, we dunno nothin’ 'bout brownies."

"Nuthin’” Sam shook his head too, his beer sloshing dramatically in its glass and wetting his hand. “My wings!” He steadied the bottle and brushed the stray liquid from the soft Eagle wings that made up the arms of his outfit.

“Have you spoken to James?” Natasha asked, leaning next to you and swiping crumbs from the plate, the last of the joint you’d shared placed delicately between her fingers. Somehow she managed to make the black onesie look very stylish, the arms rolled up to the silvery spiderwebs embroidered on the elbows and shoulders.

“James? Bucky?"

Organising and taking part in retreats was your second favourite part of your job. Bucky took the top spot, miles ahead of everything else with his handsome, stubbled face and gruff but gentlemanly manner. Despite being part of the team for a while, he still kept to the background, staying out of the way and keeping quiet. He was always especially polite to you, holding the door and making sure you were included all the time, even if he never really stayed that long at Stark’s parties or Steve’s team building exercises.

Deep down you hoped it was because he saw you the same way you saw him, in your dreams, surrounded by little hearts.

But life just wasn’t that kind, and you took his friendship gladly if that was all he could give.

"Why would Bucky eat them, can he even get high?” You slid forwards, leaning on the counter and clutching the empty tray.

“Bambi!” The four of you whipped around, surprised. Bucky bounced into the room with an enthusiasm that Steve hadn’t seen for decades. He also had chocolate on his cheeks and crumbs all down his front making him instantly guilty. You looked down at your onesie, light brown and speckled like a deer with tiny antlers on the hood.

“Ha, yeah, like Bambi.” You giggled.

“And I’m Thumper!” He laughed back pulling the hood of his own pyjamas up and letting the long, grey, ears drop in front of his face.

“Because you punch people?” You were momentarily confused, your brain refusing to work and instead focusing on the too tight fabric around Bucky’s arms.

Behind you Sam coughed to cover his laughter and Natasha turned away, eyes full of mirth.

“No! Thumper in Bambi!"

"The girl rabbit?” Tony dropped down onto the huge sectional couch, surprisingly sober. Although you were sure that had more to do with promising Pepper to keep the cabin safe, rather than any personal choice.

“Thumper is a boy.” Bucky insisted, eyes never leaving yours, his smile boyish and relaxed.

“How would you know?” Sam scoffed, leaning over the back of the couch, positively gleeful when Steve whispered that Bambi was also a boy and they fell back laughing together.

“Because, Sam, I’ve seen Bambi."

"What?” Tony’s snort of derision didn’t go unnoticed, but you shot him a glare. This was possibly the most relaxed you’d ever seen Bucky, you wouldn’t be letting anyone, including your boss, spoil it.

“I saw Bambi, in 1942, when it first came out,” he said proudly.

“That’s right, I remember!” Steve jumped up, the Asgardian liquor cocktail that Natasha had rustled up earlier starting to take effect. “We went with your sisters, Rebecca cried when Bambi’s mom got shot and he was all alone."

"Don’t spoil it, Stevie.” Bucky chastised, turning back to you as quickly as possible, “Have you seen it? Do you want to see it? We could see it?”

You nodded but he ignored you, continuing to talk as he got closer and closer, backing you into the kitchen island where the empty brownie tray dropped with a clang.

"We can go, I’ll take you, Saturday, you can have as much popcorn and soda as you like.” His right hand swayed by his side, nudging closer to yours until your fingers touched. “What d'ya say?"

Every fibre of your being screamed yes, just as you’d internally jumped for joy whenever he came by your office or handed you a coffee. But those times you were sober, calm, collected. Now you were four drinks and half a joint deep, floating off into the clouds. Professional judgement be damned.

So you screamed "Yes!” outloud for once.

He beamed, throwing his arms around you and squeezing just a little too tight until you squeaked. “Good, gonna be my best girl, my Bambi and I’ll be Thumper, buy you lots of popcorn and - oh - you’re really soft.” His hands found the back of your hood, pulling it up to sit on top of your head, letting it fall into your eyes.

“Yeah it’s nice, right?”

“S’fluffy.” Bucky’s thumbs brushed over your lips and down your neck, just inside the hood for a moment, before finding your shoulders and arms, rubbing the fuzzy material until you felt static build on your skin. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he whispered. “My own little Bambi.”

“I know.” You giggled back, picking up the joint again so you’d had something to do with your hands other than grip the front of your own outfit.

“We didn’t smoke weed back in the day,” he said, conversationally, as if he didn’t have his hands in your pockets, pulling out your lighter and a lip balm.

“No?” You took a drag, blowing the smoke to the side politely.

“Did a lot of cocaine though, keep us awake on missions.”

“Jesus. That’s…intense.”

He nodded, watching your fingers against your lips, the little pout when you exhaled.

“Can I?”

“You ate a whole tray of brownies, Bucky, I don’t know if you should have anymore.” You extended your arm away from his grabby hands, hoping Natasha would come and take it away again, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted you onto the counter, pinned your leg down and followed the line of your arm to your outstretched hand. His lips brushed the backs of your fingers when he took the twist of paper into his lips. You waved him over and he held his breath as he returned to you, leaning in close and only exhaling when you pulled your hoods together, his nose against yours.

Instinctively you inhaled, the rush of smoke and the smell of Bucky was overwhelming. You giggled again, trapping him against you with an arm around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“Haven’t shotgunned since college.” You smiled, everything was so floaty and soft, fuzzy round the edges and so fucking warm. When did it get so warm?

“You know with your floppy ears you could be-” your laughter bubbled up, cutting you off, “you could- sorry - oh my god - you could be Bucks Bunny!"

Bucky did not seem to like that nickname as much as Thumper and told you so, pouting until you let him take another long drag.

Time seemed to slow down between Bucky’s words, his hands, the way your glass of wine felt in your hand and the texture of his onesie. They were a good idea, so soft, good for petting, and Bucky was petting you too. His right hand was burning hot, even through the thick material, the pads of his fingers were calloused and rough, but the palm was soft. His left hand was so rigid, making a whirring noise. When you put your cheek to the artificial bicep it ticked pleasantly and you smiled, sighing and closing your eyes so you could concentrate on the joined sounds of Bucky’s heart and his prosthesis. In turn, Bucky held you gently, his metal fingers gentle on your back where he kept you snuggled in tight beside him.

You were faintly aware of the ongoing chatter across the room, but it had faded away into background static. Your soul focus was on the way two of Bucky’s eyebrow hairs stuck out from the others, the little patch of grey forming in his stubble, the dark fleck of colour in his iris, the way his mouth looked saying your name. Oh shit, he’s saying your name, say something back!

“Uh huh, yeah, uhm - maybe?”

He tipped his head to the side, bunny ears flopping over too, and came closer again. His hands on your cheeks. “I’ll help you.” He leant forwards to rest his forehead against yours.

“What’ya doing?” You tried to look at your forehead too but your eyes seemed to stop when they got to your eyelashes. Annoying.

“Telling you what I’m thinking without saying it.”

“Oh, is it working?”

“You have to tell me that, silly!”

“I don’t think it’s working,” you whispered, loudly, and Natasha groaned from the sofa closest to the kitchen.

“These two are out, done, nothing more for them,” she declared, waving her glass of red wine.

A chorus of yes and agreed sounded from the remaining Avengers. Clint had already fallen asleep across one of the arm chairs, his beer dribbling onto his shirt from the neck of the bottle. Steve and Sam were deep in debate about the merits of Japanese whiskey over original scotch whisky and Tony was watching you both intently, his own glass of Glengoyne warming in his hand. The way the condensation formed under his fingers was fascinating, and you told Bucky as much, pulling him close to your cheek so you could get the same view.

“I concur, what did you do to my PA, Barnes?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bad influence.”

“She’s not you PA, she’s our PA. So she’s ours to influence,” he returned, proudly.

Tony just continued to stare, pointedly, sipping his drink.

“What you gonna influence me to do, Buck?” You kicked your legs against the kitchen counter, a picture of innocence, and Tony laughed into his drink.

But Bucky looked at you very seriously, bent to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, his leg between yours, muscular and firm despite the fluffy clothes.

“I’m gonna influence you to steal all of Stark’s M&Ms.” He tried to keep quiet but ended up choking out the end of his sentence around his own uncontrollable giggles.

“Oh my god, you know he has me take the red ones out, says they’re smug. I have so many red M&Ms in my flat.”

“Hey, that’s supposed to be a secret!”

“Wanna eat all the red ones I brought with me?”

Bucky helped you down from the counter and then across to the pantry where you’d stashed the huge bags of snacks and sweets when you first arrived. Despite Steve’s shouts of leaving some for everyone, you closed the door and sat down, ready to tuck in, wrappers and chocolate littering the floor while you dug about for your favourites. Bucky sat on the floor, encouraging you to sit between his legs, keeping his hands moving over the downy material of your onesie.

“Okay, Bambi, what’ve you got for me?”

Before you could even attempt to feed him anything, Steve wrenched the door open, hands on his hips. “I think you need to sleep this one off, not eat more chocolate,” he insisted, waving at you both to get back up.

“Nuh-uh, Steve, not leaving.” Bucky tightened his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You smell like cake,” he exclaimed, happily, ignoring Steve.

“Sam! Can you help me shift Bucky?!”

“What about me?” You pouted, holding Bucky’s hands around your waist.

“You need to go to bed as well.” Natasha extended her hand to yours in an effort to pull you off the floor, but Bucky’s grip was too strong.

Eventually, it took everyone to wrestle you away from Bucky and bundle you into your room. In the corridor, Bucky howled his anger, breaking out of his room to easily find you in yours.

“Bambi! There you are! Those awful hunters took you!” he cooed, squishing your cheeks again and kissing your pouty lips. Deep down your brain registered that this was your first kiss with him, that the man who had been consuming your thoughts for months was actually kissing you, willingly, and had broken a door so he could get close enough to do so.

“Buh-kee, it was just Nat and Tony,” you drawled, your lips moving gently against his, reluctant to pull away.

“I know, but I didn’t like it, wanna stay here with you.”

Natasha, who was still trying to wrestle you into bed, gave up. “If you two stay in here together, and stay out of trouble, I won’t say anything.” She pointed at you both, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Promise I’ll be good, Natty.” You fluttered your eyelashes at her dramatically, hoping to seem more trustworthy, but she just rolled her eyes. “Fine, stay here.”

And then you were alone.

You hesitated for a moment, watching the slow movement of Bucky’s face, fascinated by the way the muscles tightened minutely when he smiled.

“I’m going to kiss you again now,” he stated, so formal that you broke out into another fit of laughter which made you hiccup and grab for his chest to steady yourself.

He ignored you, bending his head and catching your lips with his, messy and rushed.

“You taste real nice, you know?” Bucky licked across your lips again, swallowing your giggles.

“You taste nice too, ate all my damn brownies.” With a long lick up his chocolate smeared cheek, you kissed him back, tangling your hands in his hair, trying to push the too hot, stuffy, fluffy, onesie off his shoulders.

Bucky shrugged, and sat back to push the material down to his hips. Your eyes followed the movements of his hands, the way each inch of muscle revealed itself and, suddenly, you were hungry again, lunging forwards to bury your face between his pecs. Starting at his sternum, you kissed further and further down, shoving him backwards so you could climb on top of him, nipping and kissing bruises in a slow trail towards the end of the zipper. With a twist of his wrist, his cock sprang free from its confines and you bent down to lick the pearlescent precum leaking from his tip.

“Fuck, Bambi.” He dropped his head back, one hand gripping the pillows and the other cupping the back of your head while you licked the head like an ice cream. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

You sat back on your heels, letting your fingers dance up and down his cock. “Feels soft,” you observed, thoughtfully, “Hard and soft at the same time, isn’t that funny?”

Bucky couldn’t reply, he just laid back, watching the woman he’d pined after for months finally touch him the way he’d dreamed. It seemed surreal to be here, in your bed, with your hands all over his body like you owned it. Well, he thought, you did own it, you just didn’t really understand that yet.

“I wanna touch you, too,” he insisted, “Can I?” His hands hovered over your clothes, so close to the zipper his fingertips brushed it when you breathed. You nodded and he lowered the metal slowly.

Everything seemed slow now, even his voice, mumbling against your skin when he kissed down your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth. When he bit down a little, you giggled, his fingers tickling your sides, until you were both laughing again, half in and half out of your onesies, brains full of cotton wool and lust and nerves.

“Hey, hey.” You tugged on his hair until he looked up, resting his cheek on your belly. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes, I’m so good with secrets!” He crawled back over your body, lowering his face close to yours. “You can whisper it or you can do it telepathically.”

“I’m not telepathic, Bucky.”

“Sure, like this.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “I know all your secrets now.”

“No, you don’t!” You shoved him, but he didn’t move.

“I do!”

“Tell me then.”

His eyes roamed over your face, from your eyes to your lips as if he couldn’t help it. “You like me.”

“Everyone likes you, Buck, you just think they don’t.”

“No you like me, you want to step out with me, be my best girl.” He looked overjoyed to have revealed your secret before you could. “Am I right?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Barnes.”

“I’m not being mean, I read your mind.”

“You know what? Fuck off.” You shoved a second time, but he still didn’t move.

“Wanna read my mind? I’ll help.” His forehead met yours again, sweat beading along your hairline from the stress of being so clearly seen by the man you’d been fantasising about for months. Before you could protest that only he could read minds while high, he was kissing you again. Slow and steady, his tongue nudging your lips gently until you opened for him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting the feeling of petal soft kisses take over you.

He moved away only enough to take off his now too warm onesie, as well as your own, leaving you both naked and tangled together on the bed. He couldn’t get enough of touching you, he felt buoyant, happy in a way that he hadn’t for months, years, and he never wanted it to end. His fingers tingled when they touched you, though it was becoming harder and harder to stay in control.

“Bucky, I want you,” you managed to squeak out between kisses, fumbling awkwardly between you both, hoping he understood.

"I want you too.” He nodded, bumping your heads together.

You wriggled beneath him, guiding him between your legs until he was buried inside of you.

“Damn it, Bambi, you feel soft everywhere.” His wide eyed expression made you smile.

“You’re kinda soft too, Bucky.” This side of him was one you’d been dying to see, unguarded and playful.

He nuzzled your cheek and began to move, tentative at first and then faster. In your dreamy state, it was hard to know where you started and ended or how long you’d been locked together.

You moved as one, slow and steady, enjoying the feel of each other’s warm skin and chocolate sweet kisses, breaking every now and again to stare at each other in awe.

Bucky seemed to sense your approaching release before you did, speeding up when you fluttered around him, the erratic movement of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until you both tumbled out. The pillows and sheets followed soon after, dropping on you in an avalanche of goose down and brushed cotton.

You both paused in shock, your giggles broken by your fall, but then he was pulling you back down on top of him and holding your hips steady.

“Bucky, I wanna - I gotta -” Your hand drifted between you again to touch your sensitive clit, just a little more pressure and you could feel your orgasm building. The tightness of your pleasure started between your legs and radiated out to your toes, making them curl against the sheepskin rug beneath you.

Bucky followed after you, unable to control himself from the onslaught of sensation your clenching heat provided.

You woke the next day in a tangle of limbs and bedding, your back sore from sleeping on the floor all night and your brain fuzzy. Beside you, still with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, Bucky continued to sleep.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #Bucky Barnes x female!Reader #Bucky Barnes/female reader #bucky x female reader #Bucky fluff #bucky #Bucky smut #Bucky Barnes smut

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tsuutarr · 7 months ago

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Concept: Yandere!Alice in Wonderland Characters (but it's only the White Rabbit for this piece) x Reader

“Wake up! Please, wake up!”

At the desperate call of the static-laden voice, your eyes groggily open. Your head hurts, thrumming with heavy noise. The artificial lights are too bright and yellow, staining your vision like aged-paper. It makes your headache worse.

“Oh no, are you ill?” a voice teeters. Face scrunched, you look up to see a screen hanging over you. A small image of a pixelated white rabbit flickers on and off. “Oh no, oh no… we’re so behind schedule…”

“What…” you being, head swirling. You don’t understand where you are or what’s happening. You don’t even really remember anything, for that matter. It makes you feel sick.

“Ah, I’m really sorry,” the pixelated rabbit apologizes, looking quite guilty. “Yes, yes, it’s quite a lot to take in…”

Before you know it, the screen the pixelated rabbit is on moves closer to you. The blue light is bright, making you squint.

“Hello, [Alice],” it greets you softly. “My name is WH173-R48817, though most call me White Rabbit or White.”

“My name isn’t [Alice].” You’re not sure where that statement came from, but it feels wrong to be referred to as [Alice].

“Ah… Ah, yes, certainly,” White’s voice murmurs.“Apologies. What would you like to be called?”

You tell White a name – you’re not entirely sure where that name came from, but it feels right.

“Understood. I will refer to you as such.” With a comforting smile, White continues. “Now, as I was saying… I am the White Rabbit System, an AI system that helps manage things in this lab.”

“A lab?”

“Yes,” White responds. “We are currently in a laboratory.”

Your eyes flicker around the room and it’s quite obvious now that you are, in fact, in a lab-like place. You’re comfortably resting on a surgery bed as jars of… body parts line the shelves around you.

“You are a part of the Wonderland Project as the most successful participant. Now that you’ve regained consciousness, we must exit the starting point.”

You stare at White blankly, its words doing very little to reveal anything substantial to you. However, White is far too frazzled to properly listen to you, going on its own little tangent. You didn’t think an AI could be so… anxious.

“We’re already quite late!” it frets while you eye it. The screen White is on is embedded into some device on the wall. You doubt the device will be able to move outside of the room.

“How are you going to exit this place?” you ask.

“Ah, look at me, being a klutz,” it sighs, somehow looking bashful despite being an AI. “A moment, please.” And just like that, the screen it was displayed on flickers off, the blue light fading away. Momentarily, you’re stunned, until you hear the soft footfalls approaching you. You turn your head to see a tall man with bunny ears.

“Greetings,” he says. His voice sounds like White’s, though a little deeper and more human. “I wondered which form would be the most efficient, and decided that this one would work best.”

“What.”

He continues walking closer to you as he talks. “I have a few bodies that I can connect my programming to. This is one of them.” When he finally reaches you, you can see how tall he is. He’s rather lanky and thin, but his height is enough to be intimidating. “Pardon me. I’m not that fond of touching others myself, but I have no choice,” he mutters, before reaching for you and cradling you in his arms faster than you can process what’s going on. “Hold on to me. We are quite behind schedule.”

“Behind schedule? For what?”

“The continuation of the Wonderland Project, of course.”

“And why exactly do I have to be a part of this project?”

White peers down at you curiously. “Well, isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “Because you’re the most important key, of course. We need you.”

With that, he leaves the room with you in his arms.

#yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x reader #tsuuper ocs #yandere x you #tw yandere #male yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc #2024 yan/monstertober tsuutarr #White Rabbit Tsuu OC #Yandere Alice in Wonderland #Alice Atelier Tsuuries #So basically you're stuck in a lab with a bunch of other monster people!#And these monster people are all based off of Alice in Wonderland Characters #I most likely will not keep this intro -- it was just a little test piece~#btw Tsuuries = Tsuu + series if that wasn't clear lol #FINALLY DONEEE!!!!#I'll make a master list tomorrow im tired today lol

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neowinestainedress · 2 years ago

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SECRET — lee jeno

𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)

𝐖𝐂: 10.202k

𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!

Jeno has a secret.

Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.

It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.

It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.

Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.

Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.

And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.

But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.

And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.

So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.

Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.

Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.

Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.

But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.

Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.

And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.

You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.

Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.

You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.

But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.

Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.

You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.

You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.

But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.

You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.

Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?

But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.

And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.

“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.

He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?

You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”

“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”

“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.

“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.

“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”

“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.

You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”

“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”

You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”

“All?”

“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.

Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.

“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”

“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?

“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.

Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.

“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.

But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.

“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.

But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.

You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.

You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.

“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”

He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”

You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”

He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.

“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”

His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”

You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”

Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?

You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.

Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”

You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”

“But I —”

“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”

“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.

“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”

That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.

“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.

You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.

Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.

“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”

“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.

“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”

Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.

You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.

“Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.

“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.

You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.

You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.

Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.

You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”

Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”

“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.

He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”

You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.

“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.

Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.

“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”

It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.

“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.

“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.

“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.

Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.

He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.

Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.

After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.

“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.

“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.

“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”

And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.

It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.

“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.

“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.

Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”

You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.

“Was it good?”

Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”

You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”

“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.

“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.

He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.

“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”

Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.

“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”

He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.

“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.

“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.

“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.

“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”

You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”

“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.

“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.

He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”

“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.

“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”

“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”

“No, miss, I’m sorry.”

“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”

Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”

“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”

You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.

“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?

You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.

“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.

Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.

“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”

You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.

He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.

“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”

“But —”

“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”

“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.

“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.

“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”

“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.

His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.

You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.

“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.

“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”

It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”

You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.

You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.

“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”

“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.

Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”

You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”

“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”

It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.

“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.

Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.

“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.

“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.

“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.

“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.

“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.

“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”

“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.

“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”

“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.

Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”

Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.

“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.

But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.

“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.

You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”

Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”

“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.

“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”

“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”

You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.

His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.

Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.

“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”

He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.

It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.

“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.

“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”

He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.

“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”

He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.

“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”

His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”

“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.

“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.

“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.

“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.

“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.

“Please, please, please, ma’am.”

“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”

When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.

Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.

“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”

“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.

“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.

Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.

And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.

And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.

When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.

Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.

“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”

Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.

“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”

“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.

“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”

He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.

You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.

Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.

“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”

You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”

“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”

You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.

“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”

Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”

You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”

He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”

“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”

Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.

“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.

When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”

“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”

Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.

“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”

Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

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#nct fanfiction #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #sub!jeno #jeno hard hours #jeno hard thoughts #nct dream smut #sub!nct #sub!nct dream #nct smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #nct dream hard hours #nct hard hours

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solxamber · 8 months ago

Note

Kind of want to see how you write White Rabbit!Reader overbloting with the TWST characters.

On your rules, it didn't state whether or not you wrote angst or not, soooooo......

I imagine while everyone else sees it as just teasing anxious/shy beastman, White Rabbit!Reader doesn't find it funny at all and finds it kind of insulting that people are willing to tease them in some shape or form or even try to rope them into a deal.

TBH, if I was White Rabbit!Reader, I would feel insulted or agitated that people are willing to take advantage of them.

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

Part 1 with the characters interaction with white rabbit!reader

You’ve always been the nervous type. Jumpy, shy, the sort of person people look at and think, Ah, easy to tease. It’s not like you want to be like this, constantly on edge, always trying to avoid the next embarrassment. But that’s just how things are, right? No one really sees you, not beyond the anxious White Rabbit who always stumbles over their words and drops paperwork.

Everyone thinks it’s harmless. The playful teasing, the way they poke at you like it’s some kind of game. You try to smile, laugh it off, and pretend like it doesn’t bother you. But inside? It’s different. It’s not funny. It’s exhausting. Day after day, week after week—there’s only so much you can take before the cracks start to show.

As you fall deeper into your overblot, surrounded by thick, inky shadows and an overwhelming sense of betrayal, each of them reacts differently. They’ve never seen you like this before—never imagined you’d reach a breaking point. But here you are, consumed by magic, frustration, and the hurt they didn’t realize they’d inflicted.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle is the first to react, freezing in place as memories of his own overblot flood back. He knows what it’s like to snap under the pressure, to feel like the world is pressing down on you with impossible expectations. But seeing you, someone so quiet and timid, become consumed by that darkness? It hits him harder than he expected.

“White Rabbit…” he mutters, voice tight, guilt pooling in his chest. He knows what it’s like to feel trapped by rules, but he never thought his teasing could push someone to this. The weight of his own overblot sits heavily in his gut. He had no right to let his frustrations out on you, to not recognize the burden you were carrying.

“Enough!” he shouts, not to you, but to the others. “This is my fault… I should’ve noticed.” He’s desperate to keep you from making the same mistakes he did.

Trey Clover:

Trey is shocked but calm, his expression unreadable as he watches the chaos unfold around you. He thought he knew you, thought you were just shy, a bit anxious. But this? This darkness swirling around you? It tells him how badly he misread things.

“I didn’t realize…” he admits under his breath. Trey has always been the ‘caretaker,’ the calm one, but he wonders now if his casual teasing and pushing you along without addressing your stress was a mistake. “I never meant for things to go this far.” He takes a step forward, hoping to pull you back from the brink.

“I’ll help you,” Trey says, trying to reach through the rage and chaos. “You’re not alone in this.”

Cater Diamond:

Cater flinches when he sees your overblot form, a deep pang of guilt hitting him. He had always laughed off your reactions, thinking you were just a little skittish. Maybe he even found it cute in a weird way. But now, seeing the result of all those moments, he’s not laughing anymore.

“Whoa… I didn’t think—” He cuts himself off, realizing there’s no way to make light of this. His chest tightens with anxiety, memories of watching Riddle’s overblot flood his mind. He’s always been the type to avoid confrontation, to stay on the sidelines and keep things light. But now, he feels guilty for not paying more attention to your feelings.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” Cater says softly, watching the chaos unravel. “Come on, this isn’t like you…”

Ace Trappola:

Ace is terrified but refuses to show it, the smirk on his face slipping into something much more serious as he watches you spiral. He knew you were jumpy, but he never expected this from you. The thought that his teasing, his joking around, might’ve actually hurt you? It’s a hard pill to swallow.

“Damn… you’re really pissed, huh?” Ace mutters, trying to keep his voice light, but the guilt creeps in. He remembers when Riddle overblotted, how terrifying that was. He wonders if this is how you felt back then—small, powerless, cornered.

“I didn’t mean to push you so hard, okay?” he says, raising his hands defensively. He takes a step forward, though he’s still uncertain. “We’ll fix this, alright? You don’t have to do it alone.”

Deuce Spade:

Deuce’s heart races as he watches you overblot, his mind scrambling to process what’s happening. He never wanted to make you feel like this. You were his friend, and he thought the teasing was just harmless fun. But now? Now he sees how wrong he was.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Deuce shouts, stepping forward, fists clenched. He remembers when he lost control of his temper, how it felt like the world was collapsing around him. And now, you’re going through the same thing. “I didn’t mean it! I swear, I didn’t think—”

He feels sick, watching the darkness consume you. He knows what it’s like to feel cornered, but he can’t bear to see you fall apart like this. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here.”

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona watches your overblot unfold with a cold, calculating gaze, his own memories of overblot lurking in the back of his mind. He knows what it’s like to reach your breaking point, to feel like you’ve been pushed too far by the world around you. But seeing you, so jittery and anxious, transform into something so full of rage and power? It catches him off guard.

“Tch. Should’ve seen this coming,” Leona mutters, though his voice lacks its usual bite. He remembers the humiliation of his own overblot, the way it felt to be consumed by bitterness and frustration. He won’t admit it, but he feels a flicker of empathy for you.

“Don’t get cocky just because you snapped,” he says, stepping forward. “You think you’re the only one who’s been pushed too far? Get a grip.” But behind his harsh words is a hint of understanding. He knows this darkness all too well.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie’s first instinct is to run, to get as far away from the chaos as possible. But then he hesitates, seeing the pain etched into your overblotted form. He knew you were an easy target for teasing, but he never meant for things to get this bad. You’re just the anxious bunny who always jumped at shadows, right?

“Ah, man…” Ruggie rubs the back of his neck, feeling a pang of guilt. “Didn’t mean to push ya so hard.” He understands what it’s like to be at the bottom, to feel like people are using you. It’s something he’s lived with his whole life.

“Look, I get it. Everyone pushes you around, huh?” Ruggie says, his voice softer now. “But this ain’t the way to deal with it. We can figure this out, alright?”

Jack Howl:

Jack’s eyes widen as he sees the darkness surge around you. He’s always respected your timid nature, never the type to tease you like the others. But still, he didn’t realize how much pressure you were under, how deeply the teasing had cut. Seeing you overblot like this—it makes him feel guilty for not stepping in sooner.

“You...” Jack mutters, his voice filled with concern. He knows what it’s like to feel small and powerless, but he never imagined you’d reach this point. “I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve said something earlier.”

His instincts kick in, and he steps forward, determined to help you. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re packmates, right? I won’t let this take you.” He braces himself for whatever comes next, ready to face the storm by your side.

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul’s eyes widen in shock, but a familiar pang of guilt hits him. Seeing you succumb to an overblot drags up memories of his own, the crushing weight of failure and inferiority pressing down on him. He had worked so hard to keep himself from feeling powerless, just as you had kept trying to stay in control.

“Not again…” Azul mutters to himself, his mind flashing back to when he was in your shoes. He had been mocked, taken advantage of, and pushed to the edge—just like you. But he realizes now how unfair it was to tease you, to make you feel as though your anxiety and insecurity were something to exploit.

He straightens up, trying to shake off his own feelings. “I won’t let you go through what I did. I’ll help you, White Rabbit.” He knows what it’s like to drown in despair, and he won’t let you be consumed by it.

Jade Leech:

Jade’s smile falters, his gaze sharp and observant as he watches your overblot unfold. To him, you had always been the anxious little White Rabbit, easy to fluster, easy to toy with. But now, seeing the raw fury and pain that has overtaken you, he wonders if he pushed too far.

“Fascinating,” he murmurs softly, though there’s a note of regret in his voice. He had always found your reactions amusing, but he never thought it would come to this. He’s not entirely unfamiliar with what it feels like to be pushed beyond one’s limit. But even so, this wasn’t what he intended.

“I wonder…” Jade steps forward slowly, voice calm. “What can be done to quell this storm?” His tone is smooth, but there’s a genuine desire to help beneath it.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd grins at first, excited by the chaos, but his grin quickly fades when he realizes how serious this is. He’s seen overblots before, but yours? It’s different. He thought messing with you was fun—seeing you all flustered and scared always gave him a good time. But now? Now, he’s not so sure.

“Oi, Rabbity” Floyd says, tilting his head. “I didn’t think you’d snap like this.” There’s a note of surprise in his voice, even a little bit of guilt. He knows what it’s like to be driven to the edge, to feel like everything is just too much, but he never thought you’d end up like this.

“Come on, don’t be boring. Let’s stop this,” Floyd says, his voice still playful, but there’s concern in his eyes.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim’s heart breaks as he sees you overblot. You were always so quiet, so nervous, and he never imagined that all the teasing, all the casual comments, could push you to this point. He’s never experienced an overblot himself, but he’s seen it before—he saw Jamil’s, after all—and he knows how much pain must be inside you right now.

“I’m so sorry!” Kalim cries, rushing toward you. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this! Please, [Name], I never wanted to hurt you!” There’s desperation in his voice as he tries to reach through the swirling darkness to get to you.

“We’re friends, right? I’ll help you! I promise!”

Jamil Viper:

Jamil’s stomach churns as he watches the darkness swallow you. It’s a feeling he knows intimately, the suffocating need for control and the constant pressure to serve, only to snap under it all. His own overblot had been a rebellion, an explosion of resentment he could no longer contain.

But you? You were different—or so he thought. Now he sees it clearly: you’ve been pushed into a corner, taken advantage of just like he was. A bitter taste fills his mouth.

He calls out to you, voice steady but not unfeeling. “Overblotting won’t free you. Trust me, I’ve been there. It might feel like the only option right now, but in the end, you’ll still be trapped—just in a different kind of cage.”

He takes a slow step closer, his mind already working through how to defuse the situation. “Let’s solve this another way. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil watches your transformation with narrowed eyes, his heart clenched in a mixture of anger and regret. He knows all too well the feeling of perfection slipping through his fingers, the desperation to control everything, only to lose it all. His own overblot was a moment of utter failure, a lapse in control that still stings his pride.

But this is different—your overblot is not about vanity or the fear of fading. It’s about being pushed, teased, and broken.

He steps forward, his voice sharp but laced with an undertone of empathy. “Is this what you want? To lose yourself because of what others think?” His gaze hardens, but there’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “I understand your frustration. I’ve been where you are, and trust me—overblotting won’t make it any better. It’ll only steal more from you.”

Vil may be harsh, but his words carry the weight of someone who’s learned a bitter lesson. “Come back to yourself, or you’ll regret it.”

Rook Hunt:

Rook’s eyes light up with both fascination and concern as he watches the darkness surround you. He’s always been keenly aware of people’s emotions, but he never realized just how much you were struggling. He thought your nervousness was simply part of your charm, but now he sees how deeply the teasing cut.

“Mon lapin, such fury!” Rook exclaims, though there’s a softness in his tone. “I never meant to push you so far. I only wished to see you shine, but I see now that I have caused you harm.”

Rook steps forward, his voice gentle. “Let me help you find your way back to the light.”

Epel Felmier:

Epel feels a pang of guilt as he watches you overblot. He thought you were just shy, just a little jumpy, and he didn’t think much of the teasing. But now, seeing the darkness consume you, he realizes how much you were holding back.

“Dang it…” Epel mutters, clenching his fists. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He knows what it’s like to feel underestimated, to feel like you’re being pushed around, and he can’t help but feel responsible for not standing up for you sooner.

“Come on, we’re better than this! Don’t let them get to you like this!"

Idia Shroud:

Idia feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he watches your overblot. Memories of his own overblot come flooding back—the fear, the anger, the feeling of being utterly powerless. He knows what it’s like to feel like the world is against you, and seeing you go through the same thing? It hits too close to home.

“Ah, crap…” Idia mutters, running a hand through his hair. He’s been there, and it’s terrifying. The isolation, the pressure, the overwhelming urge to just… break. He never thought you’d reach that point, though. He always saw you as the timid one, the anxious White Rabbit that everyone teased, but he didn’t realize just how much you were holding in.

“I-I get it,” Idia says, his voice wavering slightly. “It’s not fair. None of it is. But you don’t have to do this.” He feels a strange connection to you now, and the last thing he wants is for you to go through what he did.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? I won’t let you end up like me.”

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho’s sensors flash in alarm as he registers your overblot. He’s never experienced one himself, but he’s seen it happen to Idia, and he knows how dangerous it can be. His eyes widen as he scans your vitals, detecting the surge of magic and stress that’s overtaking you.

“You’re overblotting!” Ortho shouts, his voice filled with concern. He hovers closer, his holographic wings fluttering as he tries to figure out how to help. “You don’t have to go through this alone! We can fix this! I promise!”

He reaches out, trying to connect with you on a personal level. “My brother went through something similar, but we helped him. We’ll help you too! You’re not alone, okay?”

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus watches your overblot with a calm, contemplative gaze. He’s no stranger to feeling isolated, to being misunderstood and feared, and seeing you succumb to the darkness brings up a strange sense of kinship. You were always anxious around him, always jumpy, and he wonders if he contributed to the pressure that broke you.

“So, even the White Rabbit has fallen to despair,” Malleus murmurs, his voice low. He knows the weight of loneliness, and he feels a deep sympathy for you. “You are not alone in this,.I will help you, as you have helped me.”

He steps forward, his presence commanding and calm. “Do not let the darkness consume you. You are stronger than you believe.”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia’s playful demeanor shifts as he watches your overblot unfold. He’s lived a long life and seen many things, but overblots are always tragic. He thought your timid nature was just part of who you were, but now he sees the pain you were hiding.

“My, my… I didn’t think you’d reach this point,” Lilia says softly. “I should’ve paid more attention to the signs.” There’s regret in his voice as he steps forward, his usual playful tone replaced with seriousness.

“Come now, little one. There’s no need to let the darkness take you. We’ll get through this together.”

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek is taken aback by your overblot, his usually brash demeanor faltering for a moment. He thought you were just weak, just anxious, but now he sees how much pressure you were under. He didn’t expect you to snap like this.

“White Rabbit! Pull yourself together!” Sebek shouts, though there’s a hint of concern in his voice. He’s not good at dealing with emotions, but he knows what it’s like to feel like you’re not living up to expectations.

“Don’t let this consume you! You’re stronger than this!”

Silver:

Silver watches you overblot with a calm but concerned expression. He’s always been quiet, like you, and he knows what it’s like to feel overwhelmed by the expectations of others. He didn’t think the teasing would push you this far, but now he regrets not stepping in sooner.

“I should’ve noticed,” Silver says softly. “I should’ve done more to help you.” He steps forward, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”

Rollo Flamme

Rollo’s eyes blaze with a mixture of horror and triumph as he watches you descend into your overblot. The corruption seeping through your veins, the monstrous form taking shape—it only reinforces everything he’s ever believed about the dangers of magic, especially from those at NRC.

“This is exactly what I’ve warned against,” he mutters, his voice cold. He steps back, disgust etched on his face as he tightens his grip on his staff. “Another student, corrupted by the very environment they’re surrounded by.”

He glares at the swirling darkness around you, his hatred for Night Raven College deepening. “This place… it turns even the meekest into monsters. You should’ve never come here.”

Yet, despite his disdain, there’s a flicker of pity in his eyes. “ I had hoped you’d be different.” But that hope has been dashed, and now, all he sees is confirmation of his worst fears.

Dire Crowley:

Crowley stands frozen for a moment, his usual air of superiority faltering as the gravity of the situation hits him. “[Name]… an overblot? How could this happen under my watch?” His voice is laced with disbelief, but it’s quickly replaced by a sense of urgency.

“This is most unfortunate!” he exclaims, hands fluttering in a dramatic display of panic. “But do not fear, my dear student, your magnanimous headmaster will ensure that you are saved!”

Despite his outward bravado, there’s a flicker of guilt in his eyes. He knew how much you struggled, but he never paid enough attention. Always too busy, always passing off the responsibility to others.

“Now, let’s remain calm, everyone!” he declares, trying to rally the other students. “We must contain the situation! For the good of the school, of course.”

Divus Crewel:

Crewel’s sharp eyes narrow as he takes in the scene, the dark magic radiating off you in waves. He’s trained many students, seen plenty of potential disasters, but this… this is something he should have seen coming.

“Overblot?” he mutters, shaking his head. “Honestly, pup, I expected better from you. Letting your emotions take control? That’s a rookie mistake.”

His words are biting, but there’s a hint of something softer beneath them. He doesn’t pity you, but he understands the pressure you’ve been under. He’s seen students buckle before, and now it’s happening again.

“You’re better than this,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “Get a hold of yourself before you do something truly irreversible. Or do I have to clean up your mess, too?”

Crewel doesn’t tolerate weakness, but he’s not about to let you fall without trying to snap you out of it.

Mozus Trein:

Trein’s stern gaze hardens as he watches the chaos unfold. There’s no surprise in his eyes, only a deep, resigned understanding. “Another overblot…” he mutters under his breath, his face grave but composed. “You, of all people…”

He adjusts his glasses, his expression lined with disappointment. “It is always the quiet ones, the ones who bottle their emotions until they explode. I should have seen it coming.”

Trein steps forward, his voice measured and calm despite the swirling darkness around you. “Magic is a gift, not a tool for reckless venting of one’s frustrations. Overblotting won’t bring you peace, only further destruction.”

Though his words are stern, there’s a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. He’s seen too many students fall victim to their own emotions, and he knows that sometimes, the weight of expectations and pressure is too much for anyone to bear.

“Control yourself,” he says, his tone softening slightly. “You are not the first to feel overwhelmed, but you must find another way to deal with it.” His words are laced with the wisdom of experience, but whether or not you hear them in your current state is another matter entirely.

Ashton Vargas:

Vargas frowns, confusion etched on his face as he watches your overblot unfold. You? The shy, anxious student who could barely run a lap? He never expected you’d be capable of this.

“Whoa, hold on!” he shouts, rushing forward with the same intensity he brings to every physical challenge. “What’s going on here? Overblotting isn’t the answer! You need to sweat it out, not let it take over!”

His approach is as straightforward as ever, but there’s a genuine concern in his voice. He’s used to pushing his students to their limits, but he never meant for you to break like this.

“Come on,” he says, raising his voice like a coach urging you to keep going. “You’re stronger than this! Fight it! Don’t let the darkness win!”

Sam:

Sam watches from the shadows, his usual carefree smile slipping as he observes your overblot. “Well, well, looks like things got a little out of hand, huh?” His tone is light, but there’s an underlying seriousness that’s hard to miss.

He’s seen plenty of students walk through his shop, weighed down by their struggles, but you? You were always so jittery, so nervous. He never thought you’d snap like this.

“Hey now,” he calls out, his voice steady and calm. “You don’t want to go down this path. Trust me, there’s no deal worth making with that kind of power.”

He steps closer, keeping his movements slow and unthreatening. “Let’s talk it out, yeah? No need to let this magic get the best of you. After all, you’ve still got plenty of life left in you—and it’s worth more than whatever this overblot’s promising.”

Sam’s no stranger to dark magic, but he’s not about to let you drown in it without a fight.

Grim:

Grim's reaction to your overblot would be a mix of shock, fear, and frustration. Despite his usual bravado, seeing you consumed by darkness would unsettle him deeply. He paces back and forth, tail puffed up and ears flat against his head.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are ya doin', henchman? This isn't part of the plan!" Grim yelps, his voice a bit shaky despite the tough front. He jumps back as the overblot's magic flares, eyes wide. "You can't just let that dark stuff take over! You’re better than this!"

Despite his fear, Grim tries to stand tall, though his usual cockiness is nowhere to be seen. “I know you're mad and tired of gettin' pushed around, but trust me, this isn’t the way! You think I wanna lose my partner to some shadowy overblot nonsense?”

His little paws are clenched into fists as he edges closer, determined. “We’ve gotta fight this! You’ve still got me, right? I’m not lettin’ you go without a fight!”

Masterlist

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bbydoll18xx · 7 months ago

Text

I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Bonus)

Paige wants to try scissoring, but she’s too shy to tell you.

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word Count: 1.2k

Themes: smut, humor, fluff if u squint

A/N: one of my beautiful anons suggested this and I just want to thank whoever it was. This shit is too good. To those who enjoy shy, bottom Paige: you are welcome ;)

“Babe,” you say for the third time, trying to catch Paige’s attention, who was deeply engrossed in her cell phone. She had been acting weird all day. She was usually all over you, clinging onto you, trying to get you as close to her as possible. But today, she was glued to her phone, only giving you short answers, and you were starting to get annoyed.

“Madison!” You snap, and her head whips up to meet your furrowed brow with a guilty look on her face.

She smiles sheepishly at you. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, leaving her phone face down on the arm of the couch and coming over to where you were sitting. “Didn’t mean to ignore my pretty girl.”

You look at her suspiciously as she pulls you into her lap, pressing hot, open mouth kisses to your jaw and trailing them down your neck.

You were not an idiot. You had dated multiple conniving liars, and your instincts were never wrong. The situation reeked of something fishy, and you were going to figure it out. You sincerely hoped nothing crazy was going on; you actually really liked Paige.

And because you were a girl with a pulse, you gave into Paige’s mouth, as she drew you in with her unrelenting charm.

God, you were so fucked.

She pulls you into her bedroom to have her way with you, making you forget all about her weird behavior and her abandoned cell phone.

For now at least.

The next day rolls around and you are determined to figure out the source of Paige’s odd behavior. You walk into her apartment quietly, giggling to yourself as you imagine spy music in the background as you creep towards her closed door. There was no noise coming from her room, and you were not actually sure if she was in there or not.

Taking a deep breath, you carefully open the door and step into the room. Paige is laying on her stomach with her large headphones covering her ears. Her back is to you, and she is watching something intently on her iPad.

She was always fucking around on that thing.

‘She’s probably playing Roblox again,’ you snicker inside your head before taking another step forward to see what she was looking at.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you glance over her shoulder to see two girls scissoring in broad daylight on the screen, and you let out a gasp, giving you away.

Paige whips her head around to see you staring at her with your mouth open in shock. Her cheeks bloom with embarrassment, and she rubs a hand across her neck before sending you a sheepish smile. “I can explain?”

You take a seat on her bed, wringing your sweaty hands together. “You know I don’t care that you’re watching porn right? But, like, why?” You ask, still in shock.

Paige sighs, looking back at the paused screen of her iPad that was haphazardly thrown onto her pillows. “I wanted to try scissoring with you. And I’ve never done that shit. And I was scared to bring it up,” she mumbles.

You giggle, and she whines in protest, pushing at your arm. “Not funny,” she pouts.

“Actually, it’s pretty fucking hilarious!” You cackle, poking at her side. “But why didn’t you just tell me? Who was the one who taught you how to use a vibrator?” You say pointedly. “And that was before we were even dating.”

“I know,” she groans, putting her head in her hands. “I just get kinda shy ‘bout this shit.”

“You poor baby,” you coo. “Now, c’mon, let's go scissor.”

Paige looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. “What?”

“Well don’t you want to try it? I’m horny, and I can see you’re soaked through those flimsy sweatpants,” you add, pointing to her crotch.

Her face turns bright red again.

Her sheepishness was divine, and you were eager to show her the many pleasures of scissoring. You were going to leave her absolutely wrecked.

Paige’s breathless whines cut through the air as you press hot, wet kisses to her inner thighs. She writhes against her bedsheets, and you continue to tease her.

“You look so pretty all spread out f’me,” you simper, overtly pleased with yourself. No one could get a rise out of her like you.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” she grunts, throwing an arm across her face. Her hips jump up as you swipe your thumb across her swollen clit in retaliation. “Please, baby,” she cries, thrusting her bottom lip out in a ridiculous pout.

Your own pussy was dripping in excitement, and you doubted you’d be able to hold off much longer, so you decided to show her a little mercy.

“C’mere,” you instruct, pulling her closer and slotting her open legs through yours. Loud gasps ring out as your slick pussies connect as you both adjust to the feeling.

Paige leans forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss before she rolls her hips experimentally, leaving you to moan into her mouth. It was raw, the sheer magnetism exuding out from between the two of you.

Grabbing onto her long, toned leg, you use it to slide her soaked folds against yours, ensuring your clits aligned perfectly. It was erotic, and as you stared at Paige’s heaving body, you felt another gush trickle down onto the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Her mouth is open, head tilted back, as she inhales sharply. Her grip moves to your ass, and she sends a stinging slap to your sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” you moan out, rolling your hips again and watching as your movement sends shockwaves through Paige’s body. Her thighs tremble and her tits bounce as you pull her in close to you, kissing her deeply as you grind against her.

“S’good,” she mumbles against your mouth before a needy whine leaves her lips with another roll of your hips. “Can’t last much longer,” she pants out.

You stroke her cheek, making her look into your eyes as you speed up your movements. The noises were downright filthy as your pussy slid wetly against hers, the friction quickly bringing you to a glorious edge.

Paige cums with your name on her lips, her body shuddering as the pleasure rips through her. Expletives and moans fill the air as you and Paige come down from your highs together.

As your breathing evens out, you reach to move her blonde hair out of her face, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“That was way better than I expected,” she grins, and you laugh.

“Now what are you going to do the next time you wanna try out something new?” You ask, a teasing tone ringing through your voice.

Paige sighs, looking bashful. “I’m gonna tell you instead of watching it on Pornhub.”

You pull her in for another kiss. “That’s my good girl.”

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think

xoxo katy

Taglist:

@fullladypanda-blog, @omg-imtumbling, @tenaciousglitternerd, @oldcrdigan, @paigebuxkets, @the-other-half , @patscorner @dietcokesmom @ch12334 @double22-k @inthedeathofherreptuation , @authentic-girl03 , @blueredg52 @tndaqlifwy

Want to be added to my taglist? Comment or send me a message!

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #uconn wbb #ive got a wand and a rabbit #paige bueckers smut

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2cool4ghoul · 6 months ago

Text

I'm on Fire

Long time no see, eh?

sorry for my prolonged period of absence, I got shit going on!!!!

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, I hope everyone enjoys, maybe it could be a two parter if people r feeling it! I haven't edited this because honestly who has time for that?

Summary: Reader asks for help with being taught hunting, gets stuck with Joel, who she thinks hates her, but we all know how that ends? Reader grew up in a cult situation where girls r taught they need to repopulate the earth after the outbreak and thinks sex is just for baby making, Joel wants to show her it could be more. I been listening to I'm on fire by bruce Springsteen and that song inspired this.

Warning: under 18 DNI! age gap not specified but allusion to it being gargantuan and ludicrously capacious, Smut, unprotected p in v (do I need to say it? WRAP IT), fingering, oral f receiving, slight daddy kink, doing it from behind, Joel is kinda mean, perv Joel, allusions to masturbation, innocence kink, religious imagery?, mentions of pregnancy, kinda public I guess, post outbreak, can be game Joel or Pedro Joel, any Joels a goal, no use of y/n, reader is female gendered, pussy pronouns, size kink if you squint, Praise kink, yearning, Joel feeling guilty and sorry for himself , boohoo, if I miss anything please tell me!!!! I love feedback!!

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You had been walking for hours.What was meant to be a simple hunt had now turned into aimlessly walking through the forest, staring at Joels back as he stalked in front of you. He refused to admit that he had gotten the two of you lost in the midst of chasing a rabbit, or a deer, or whatever it was he says he saw. When you did suggest heading a different direction, you were met with a sharp rejection, or a grunt telling you to keep your mouth shut. You knew he was angry before you’d even left, saddled with the burden of dragging you along with him.

You didn’t particularly know Joel and you didn’t particularly like him either. His stand-offish demeanour and deep glare whenever you were around made you feel small in his presence. You had given up on the smiling and politeness that you gave everyone else in an attempt at self preservation, yet deep down you so badly wanted him to like you. You weren’t sure what you did and at what point you did it, but Joel made it very evident that he’d much rather be torn to shreds by infected, than teach you the basics of hunting. Which, with the sun becoming low and darkness threatening to spill over into the sky, you thought maybe he didn’t know the basics of hunting either.

Frustrated, you huffed whilst adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, rolling your eyes slightly as he stopped to try and grasp any familiarities in your surroundings. “What’s got you all huffy and puffy?” He quipped, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at you.

“I am tired, Joel, we’ve been walking for hours now, I want to go home.” Sighing, your head fell back on your shoulders and he carried on walking.

“If I remember correctly, this was your bright idea, was it not?” His fists clenched at his side and you furrowed your brows.

“It was, when I thought I’d actually be able to learn something, I thought you were meant to be good at this-“

“I am good at this, you’re scaring ‘em all away, with your bitchin’ and moanin’” You’d obviously bruised his ego a bit there, yet the reaction you’d gotten was the most exciting thing that had happened all day.

Well, that and being able to watch him closely whilst he furrowed his brow, focusing down the barrel of a gun. Laying on the ground next to him, so close that you could nearly smell the musk that seemed to radiate off of him. Yes, you didn’t particularly like him, but looking at him? You liked that very much. You liked the way his arms looked when he rolled up the sleeves of his flannels. The way he looked when he started the day, fresh out the shower with his greying hair slicked back and slightly damp. The way his voice was low when he was trying to teach you a lesson. The way he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes when you made a joke, a suggestion, or even just breathed. Seeing all of this things was enough to put a pit in your stomach, a pit that you’d been carrying around all day with little idea what to do about it. It ached and it throbbed.

“Well maybe in your old age, your losing your touch.” You said it quiet, thinking that he wouldn’t hear you. But he did. He responded with a scoff, clenching his fists again. He wasn’t even going to dignify it with a insult back, his reaction alone was enough to make you feel insufficient. You both retreated to the silence and you kept yourself to your thoughts on how you were going to deal with the ache between your thighs.

______________________________________________________________

Night had fallen and Joel had still not managed to find your way home. Instead you’d found an old shack, barely together but good enough shelter to sleep for the night. Joel figured it was tomorrow’s problem, that and he couldn’t be bothered to listen to your complaints about how tired you were.

The dim glow of the campfire lamp created a yellow cast over Joels features and you couldn’t help but stare as he sat opposite you, eating a sandwich you’d given him earlier in an attempt to lift his spirits. His features were rough and frown lines had been permanently etched into his skin. This life had worn him down, toughed him up like leather. Maybe that was why he was mean to you. Maybe he’d ran clean out of kindness. His large hands made whatever he was holding look small, they were calloused and scarred across his knuckles. You didn’t want to imagine what things those hands had done. But you did want to imagine what they could do. Running over your skin, fingertips grazing your lips, leaving goosebumps and a shiver down your spine. Grabbing at your skin, creating bruises and marks, his fingers, thick and strong, spreading you open and filling you-

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” Gruff and fed up, Joels voice snapped you right out of the darkest corners of your mind, your eyes widening slightly as you realised you had obviously been staring, eyes hazed over.

“I, uh, I was looking at my sandwich, I don’t think you deserve it.” Nice save, you praised your self internally and he raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were some stupid insignificant thing.

“How come I don’t deserve it?”

“We caught nothing today, you didn’t teach me shit.” You tried your best to mimic the facial expression he was pulling, hoping that just maybe you could make him feel how he did.

“Hmm.” He grumbled after putting the last bite in his mouth. “’s'all gone now.” There was almost a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze making you squirm and squeeze your thighs together. What was happening to you? It felt like every fibre of your being was betraying you, begging for you to climb over to him and beg him to take you whatever way he wanted. “What’s the deal with you anyway?”

“With me?” Taken aback, you went slightly rigid, why would he want to know anything about you? He hated you, he made it perfectly clear. He nodded, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to work you out. “What do you mean?”

“Well, why do you want to learn to hunt? And don’t you have some boyfriend around to teach you?” This was the most he’d spoken to you all day, and he had you spluttering on the sip of whatever you’d just taken.

“I want to hunt so I can be useful,” you coughed out, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to look casual, “and no I don’t have a boyfriend to teach me, so I suppose you’re just gonna have to put up with me for now.” Shaking your head, you tried at being playful, but it still didn’t crack his prying exterior.

“Pretty young thing like you, ‘bound to have ‘em falling at your feet.” It was said as almost a passing comment, but your shock was visible on your face, blinking and biting your lip trying to make up a response that was witting and defensive but you couldn’t.

Before you’d scrambled your way to Jackson, alone and bewildered, you had grown up in a cult, whose goal was primarily to restart civilisation. They’d taught how it worked, making babies and all that, and for a while you were happy playing the part, letting your father chose a man, who would be forced with the task of putting as many babies as he could inside you. You endured, what felt like a chore, with your partner, watching your friends fall pregnant. Your inability to fall pregnant was what made you run in the first place, hearing of what they did to the girls who could birth a child had frightened you, fearful that you’d be reduced to another mouth to feed. A drain on resources. So with all of that in mind, finding a boyfriend was never something that crossed your mind, nor was it something you greatly desired. But with Joel sat in front of you, legs spread with his thick thighs in your direction, you felt strings inside you being pulled that had previously been untouched.

“You think I’m pretty?” You swallowed, maintaining eye contact with him for a moment, trying to catch a hint of softness.

“I think you’d be doin’ better tryin’ to find a nice young man,” He adjusted his position and met your gaze, “rather than spendin’ the night in and old shack with’an old man like me.” This was him trying to be nice you thought, but it was having the opposite effect. It made you defensive and you narrowed your eyes.

“Oh because I’d be better off finding a man-”

“You’re puttin’ words in my mouth.” His interruption was calm, yet stern, shaking his head at you and rubbing his face with his hands. He’d succeeded in silencing you as you looked down at the ground in front of you, slightly embarrassed.

“I’ve had a boyfriend, or a lover, I don’t know what to call him,” You avoided him, you had no idea why you felt the need to be vulnerable, “and I don’t know what the whole big deal is, y’know?” You sighed, cheeks flushing a bit pink. “I don’t understand why someone would put themselves through that.”

“Through what?” He leaned forward slightly, curiosity shadowing his face in the dim light. Finally you lifted your head, showing him your red cheeks.

“That.” You hoped he understood your insinuation. And due to the sudden rigidness of his body recognised that he understood. He pursed his lips for a moment and then opened them as if to speak, yet nothing came out. Embarrassment was flooding your body, you regretted even bringing it up due to the sudden tension in the air. And there was that pit in your stomach again, aching and throbbing as you watched him stumble over words to say.

“Because it feels good.” Was all he could stifle out, watching your reaction carefully as your knitted your brows, screwing your face up in confusion slightly.

“Maybe for the men,” You scooted up onto your knees, looking up at him as he sat taller than you, “but for me, as a woman, its just so much pressure.” He was now looking confused, squinting his eyes, trying to understand.

“Pressure to what?”

“To make a baby.” He was beginning to patronise you, making you explain the obvious like it was some sick game. It got you all defensive again. “It doesn’t feel that great when all you can think about is if you’re going to be able to make-“

“It’s not just about that.” Adamantly he shook his head, eye scanning over your body watching as frustration overtook you. “It’s not just about making a baby.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Miller, I’ve had sex, I know what its about.” You bit sharp, heart thumping in your chest, moving closer to him to try and assert some dominance.

“I don’t think you do.” You could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smirk hiding behind his beard. “Christ, I should not be the one telling you this.”

“Telling me what? What Joel?” You were now practically between his legs, kneeling, begging to understand what he could possibly be talking about. “Please, tell me, I don’t understand.” His eye were trying frantically, to look everywhere except for you.

“Darlin’, I cant be tellin’ you this, s’wrong.” His voice was lower, speaking to you quietly and firmly, grabbing a hold of your wrists. You felt hot under his touch, his rough hand wrapping around your wrists, staring into your eyes. “M’old enough to be your daddy.”

“Whats that got to do with it?” Your voice lowered to the same volume as his, you were searching for the answers in his eyes, and he looked conflicted. Like he was balancing options.

Your body was betraying you again, it wanted to reach forward, wrap itself around him, be as close to him as possible, as if the proximity now was not enough. As if the feeling of his fingers and palms on your now hot skin, was not enough.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you’re always starin’ at me? Hmm, sweet girl?” God, if you were red before, now you were purple. Your skin was prickling, not just at the acknowledgment of your behaviour but at his sudden use of pet names. You couldn’t force words out even if you tried. “Why’d’you think I avoid you like you’re the plague?” With his face inches from yours, it was now easy to see that there was almost desperation in his eyes, like he was losing a battle, unable to let go of his grip still.

“B…Because, you, you hate me.” You finally stuttered out, your throat dry from the heaving breathing.

“Christ, no, I don’t hate you, darlin’, I just can’t stop myself when you’re in front of me, staring at me with those big o’eyes, looking like you’re just about ready to drop to your knees.” There was still no answer to your question, you still didn’t understand, you so desperately wanted to understand. Especially after watching the way he licked his lips, his burning stare taking in every inch of you, “And to think, you’ve been sat there, squeezin’ your legs together, and you don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I, I, I don’t understand, what you’re saying, Joel.” Your chest was rising and falling, a sweat blanketing the both of you, his grip loosening but letting his hands travel further up your arms until they were at your back.

“Let me show you.” Was all he could muster out until his lips were on yours. He crashed against you, pulling you into him by your back. You fought for a moment at first, out of shock at his abruptness, but it did not take you long to be pressing your body against his, your fingers getting lost in his hair, gripping and tugging whilst he groaned into your mouth. His tongue found its way against yours, tasting every part of you, savouring the moment as you whimpered. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and he rested his forehead against your, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” The ache was taking over your body now, like it was all for him, making you force your lips on him again.

“Please, Joel, please,” You purred into him, his hand reaching down to your ass, gripping it hard, “please, I’m aching.”

“Baby, you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled, his free hand reaching up to your neck, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Please show me, I need you.” Begging, you ignored how right he was, you were sure what you needed but you needed it fast. The tension was becoming unbearable, you needed release.

He held you close by the small of your back, gently lowering you down until your back touched the ground and he was on top of you. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were ready to do anything he asked of you, your entire body feeling like it was electric. He continued kissing you, moving his lips down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and unbuttoning your shirt with an experienced hand. There was still a little bit of disbelief inside you, a failure to believe that Joel Miller, who 2 minutes prior you believed hated you, was on top of you undressing you. The anticipation for his next move was unlike anything you’d experienced before. “God, I’ve thought about this,” His voice vibrated across your chest, your body lifting to meet his lips, your bra exposing your cleavage, “now look at you, angel, whimperin’ for me like a bitch in heat.” He was grinding his hips, pressing his hard bulge into where you needed him most.

“Please, it hurts, Joel.” There was nothing you needed more than what he was giving you, the friction of denim rubbing together was nothing cooling the burning sensation between your legs.

“I know, baby, I know.” He grumbled, “m’gonna show you, jus’ takin’ my time.”

Kisses were descending south down your body, soft red marks left in their wake. He was taking his time, occasionally glancing up at your wide, blown out eyes. He wanted to show you exactly what he’d meant. Exactly what he’d meant. When he finally reached the waistline of your jeans, he tapped your thighs, signalling for you to lifts your hips so he could begin to pull them down your legs and then off your body entirely, taking your white cotton panties with them. You instinctively pressed your knees together, immediately feeling exposed in front of Joels large frame.

He tutted, “Ain’t no use bein’ shy now, sweet girl, you gotta show me where you need me.”

You did as you were told, spreading your legs, whilst he knelt back, palming the growing tent in his jeans. “that’s it, good girl.” groaning, he leant forward, lowering his body to meet yours, “Look at how wet she’s got f’me, you might not know what I mean, but she definitely does.” A sadistic chuckle left his throat, watching you squirm under his intense gaze.

Your body jolted when one of his fingers gently slid up your folds, collecting the wetness and slick, leaving you unable to breathe. No one had ever touched you there, not even yourself, and here was Joel Miller, slack jawed, toying with your hole however he pleased. He did slow motions up and down, watching as you glistened in the dim light. You had no idea you were capable kf feeling this feeling, a tingling sensation rippling in waves along with his touch. You were absentmindedly grinding your dripping cunt in motion with him, your eyes flickering shut whilst your head rolled back. “that’s right, baby girl, feels good don’t it?” Joel cooed through a smirk, watching intently as you rubbed against him.

“mmhmm,” You hummed in a daze, this must’ve been what he was talking about, “so good.” And with your admission of pleasure, a small smile dancing over your lips, he took his hand away. Your head snapped up and you propped yourself on your elbows, looking down at him with pouted wet lips. He took little notice of your reaction, instead he wrapped his arm around your thighs positioning his face opposite your throbbing pussy.

Before you had time to question why he was so close, he showed you. He dove into like a you were water and he was in a drought. Gasping, you watched with your jaw wide, panting whilst he licked and sucked at you, his tongue exploring every inch of you. “Joel, fuck, my god, what are you doing?” you panted, your chest rising and falling heavily.

“Well,” he spoke between breaths, “I’m tasting you, darlin’ and boy, don’t you taste sweet.” he continued on, watching your breathing growing erratic, the torment his tongue was bestowing on you causing your eyes to roll back into your head, a hand holding onto his forearm. “your old boyfriend never came down for a taste?”

“No” Just when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, he brought you to a new high. One which made you sure that this was what he was talking about surely it didn’t get better than this. Feeling his beard scratching against your thighs, seeing the absolute sheer pleasure in his eyes as his tongue fucked itself into your hole.

“He was missing’ out, I’ll tell you that much, sweetheart.” It was a smug scoff. He was immensely enjoying the effect he was having on you. See you wriggle, unable to keep still, holding your hips firmly down to the ground so he could have his way with the sweet pussy in his mouth. Knowing that his mouth was the only one to taste you, to savour and relish in the taste of you, god he felt like one lucky man.

The pit that started in your stomach had now grown and blossomed to take over your entire body, it was consuming and controlling you. Your back arched off the ground, only remaining anchored by Joel firm hands, you let one of your hands grab fistfuls of Joel’s hair, pushing him closer against you, whilst your other hand took to your breast, pinching at your hardened nipple underneath the restrictions of the bra. You cared not for the noises you made, filling the otherwise silent forest with salacious moans and Joel’s name. If a search party had been sent out for you, they’d definitely find you. They’d find you laying half naked, fucking yourself on Joel tongue. It was nearly shameful how much you were at his expense. The grip was gone from one of your thighs, your weak leg dropping to the ground giving him a wide access as you planted your foot on his back. He leant back for a moment before pursing his lips and spitting directly onto your already drooling cunt, making you flinch.

“look at me, pretty girl.” He took a breath, your eyes meeting his, “god, what a sight for sore eyes, so pretty, look at me.” babbling his took your moment of distraction as a invite to insert two of his thick fingers into your hole, smiling again with wet lips, the juices from your pussy dampening his beard and shinning off of his prominent nose. Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to make eye contact with him, your lip between your teeth to hard you were sure it was going to draw blood. at first he made sure to slowly let you adjust to the stretch of his fingers, feeling your walls constrict around his digits. “mmm, thatta girl, taking my fingers so well, is that nice?” His praise made you fumble, unable to form sentences, only being able to respond with a over ambitious nod of your head, pouting with beads of sweat dribbling down your temples. “I bet it’s nice, no one’s ever touched you like this, huh? My needy girl, following me around, so full of desire with no where to go.” You continued nodding, hypnotised by his words, his fingers curling to reach a spot, overwhelming you, tears prickling in your eyes. Your stomach was tight, the pressure building and building, your knees growing weak. “My girl.” He repeated to himself, looking your up down as if he was admiring his handiwork.

“M’all yours.” It left your throat involuntarily, strangled and choked, pathetic.

“All mine?” He huffed incredulously, “Yes you are, all mine, christ girl.” His mouth returned to the mess he had made made, lips wrapping around and pulling at your clip, releasing with a wet pop. You hissed and tugged at his hair, his nose smushed against your skin, sniffing and smelling as much of your natural scent as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate a pussy this intoxicating, or if he ever even had.

Something was about to rupture in you, it panicked you, washing over your body. You were unable to breathe, unable to release the grip you had on him, your eyes widening as you trembled against joel’s mouth. “Joel.” you squeaked out and he looked up at you with dark eyes, “what’s, fuck, I’m…” Your heart pounded in your chest and in your ears, you could barely focus, unable to form a sentence, or even get a word out.

“that’s right, go on, let it out,” his warm breath fanned against your sensitive area, “make a mess, let go f’me, soak my finger.” He was rattling you and egging you on, seeing your pathetic, writhing, sweating body in front of him.

Once more, you did as you were told. And holy shit.

It was like your entire body was on vibrate, toes curling, unable to even make noise. Stars were bursting behind your squeezed shut eyes, body lifted forward off the ground. “That’s my girl, there she is, fucking hell, give it to me, darlin’” He groaned, digging his hips into the ground, watching you come undone. The tension was being released in constricting waves, your walls clenching and squeezing around his fingers, which remained still, but still putting pressure on the spot they had previous being stroking relentlessly.

“oh my god, Joel, fuck me, oh my god, fuck, fuck.” When you could finally breathe again, you whined his name, cursing and crying a stream of profanities, his fingers leaving you empty whilst his tongue lapped up every precious drop of your high. It took a couple blinks for your vision to come back at when it did, you were met by the proud grin plastered on his face.

“what was it you said earlier? somethin’ ‘bout me losin’ m’touch in m’old age?” He teased, before putting the fingers that had been in you, into his mouth. He sucked them dry, letting his eyes roll back into his head for a second. “Sure didn’t seem to mind my touch when you were choking my fingers.”

“what was that?” You almost lost your voice, your throat dry. Joel was working his way up your body, kissing you and nibbling at your salty skin.

“That, my darlin’, was what I meant.” His teeth pulled at your earlobe and you took deep breaths before letting your fingers nimbly start to unbutton his own flannel.

“Do it again.” You pleaded, staring into his brown eyes, trying to rid him of his shirt as quickly as possible.

“Christ, you are needy,” He stopped his kisses, “she’s already wanting more? it feel that good?”

“Please, do it again, I want more.” You were completely possessed by the pleasure you had felt, gagging to feel more, you wanted him carnally, to have as much of him as possible.

“Use your words, what do you want?” He was enjoying this too much for someone who had previously stated how wrong it was. He was going to give in, there was no way he couldn’t with his cock so painfully hard in his pants, he just wanted to relish in having you beg for him some more.

The truth is that he’d spent plenty of time watching you. When you first came to town and Maria set you in the cabin next door, Joel had watched you. In fact, his bedroom window had been so perfectly placed so that at the right time of night, when you stepped out the shower he could make out your outline behind your curtains. In these moments, Joel would let himself indulge in all the dirty, perverted thoughts he’d kept locked up. He take his manhood in his hand and pleasure himself at the thought of feeling your skin against his, the thought of you whimpering and offering yourself, spread apart, for him. He’d thought many times about bounding through the door, ruining whatever was left of your innocence. He hadn’t, however, imagined that you had this much innocence left. And he would’ve never imagined in his wildest dreams that you’d be begging him for more, for him ruin you.

“I want you, I want you to fill me up, to stretch me.” You were speaking whatever came to mind, no thinking, just action, tumbling over your words with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, your eyes fucked out, hair matted and wild. This was enough for him to give in, allowing you to push his shirt down his arms, revealing his tanned skin and soft belly. Hair scattered below his waistline and you were eager to find where it lead to.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, girl.” He cursed, watching your small hands struggled with his belt buckle. When he’d agreed to help teach you hunting, this is the last place he thought he’d be.

He ended up undoing his belt himself, your frantic hands proving useless, but this meant you got to watch with wide, hungry eyes as his cock slapped his lower stomach, red and swollen with pre-cum beading at the tip. You were speechless, gulping, unsure of whether it would even fit. After he’d discarded of his jeans, reaching round and pumping his shaft in his fist. You were starving for him, the way he looked in this light, completely bare in front of you. He came down to your height, lips against yours, tongue in your mouth. “Can you taste yourself? Taste how sweet you are?” You purred a yes into the kiss and he pulled away, grabbing your chin between his thumb and finger. “taste good don’t you?” His half-lidded eyes remained fixed on the way you licked your lips and smiled sweetly at him, as if you were completely angelic. “yeah, you like it? ‘Course you do, jesus.” He shook, he wasn’t gonna last long with you looking the way you did, feeling the way you did. “how do you want it?” He was buying himself time, his cock already twitching just at the thought of being inside you.

“I’ve never done it, from behind.” Your voice was quiet and unsure, you’d clearly never been asked how you wanted it and now you felt like there was a right and wrong answer. However with the way Joel immediately grabbed you, flipping you over with a squeeze so that you laid on your stomach, you realised that maybe you picked right.

“Now,” he straddled your thighs, grabbing and kneading at your bare ass, spreading your cheeks and planting his cock between them, “it’s been a while,” he rocked his hips gently, watching the way his cock pushed through your plush cheeks, getting lost, “I ain’t tryin’ to make excuses-”

“Please, please, I’m begging you,” you pleaded, arching your back and pushing against him, his balls dragging against your pussy causing him to shiver, all the hairs on his body standing on end, “I want you to give it to me again, Joel, it’s aching again, I’m aching for you.” You tried your best to crane your neck, so that you could make eye contact with him and he took it as an opportunity to grab you by the neck.

“M’gonna give it to you, baby girl, you ready?” His lips brushed against your forehead before resting there, so you whimpered in response before he plunged into you.

He stretched you out in a way that burned. It felt like you were being torn and you evidently winced and hissed and the intrusion of his cock. He, on the other hand, had just entered into heaven. The way you wrapped around him so tight and perfectly had him choking on his low groans, basking in watching your pussy so delightfully swallow every inch he had to give you before stopping at the base. You needed a moment, clenching your fists and squeezed your eyes shut, you needed to adjust to having something of his sheer size inside you. He needed a moment because he was sure if he made any sudden movements, he was going to spill inside you immediately, before he had even had a chance to get you remotely close to your climax. “god, you’re so fucking tight, she’s takin’ me real good.” He kissed at your forehead again, trying to distract himself from the way you were squirming. You knot in your stomach was growing again and the pain was soon numbed out, awaiting his movement.

“you’re so big.” whining, you fluttered your lashes, splaying your hands out in front of you, preparing yourself.

“I know, baby, you ready for it?”

“Yes,” You were practically gasping for air, making puppy dog eyes at him through your eyelashes, watching him twitch, “please, Joel, please.”

Against his better judgement, Joel began thrusting his hips slowly into you, watching your expression twist, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open. You mewled and whimpered, knuckles turning white as you gripped at nothing. You looked pathetic beneath him, surrendering yourself entirely. And he ate it all up. He was enthralled, blinking down at you, watching tears form at the corners of your eyes, your freckles hiding beneath a red flush. This was heaven.

He rocked into you fervently, pushing in and pulling out moans. His grip around your neck kept your face in constant view, his breath fanning over your skin. “You look so beautiful, baby, taking this cock.” He grunted out between the snap of his hips, reaching deeper inside you than anyone had before, your soft velvet walls wrapping around him, clenching and contracting to accommodate his girth. Your lips couldn’t form words, stuck open wide, panting, your tongue resting on your bottom lip.

You felt so full, feeling him in your belly, grazing your cervix with ease. His free hand traveled from your hips, holding you safe and firm, to squeeze a handful of your ass, painfully hard. It caused you to yelp, pushing your hips into him, making his thrust halt for a moment as he shuddered. He was trying desperately hard to not cum embarrassingly fast. He felt like a teenager again, trying to divert his thoughts to anything other than the writhing body he was currently impaling with his throbbing cock. But the way you were pushing back on him, begging him constantly with that drunken look in your eyes, like he was the only other person on the planet. He couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much he though about what needed fixing at home, all his thoughts returned to you.

“More.” You choked out. And he raised an eyebrow.

“More? More what, sweetheart?” He punctuated by giving a hard thrust that left you shaking.

“Harder, I want it- Oh fuck!” Interrupting you, he took advantage and began ramming into you mid sentence, taking immense pleasure in watching you become undone around his relentless torment.

He let go of your ass and your neck, picking you up by your hips so you were on your knees, check pressed against the ground. There was an excited smile on your face, cheeks aching and hot. “You smilin’ girl? Yeah? You like it like this, feel good don’t it?” Whilst you couldn’t see his face, you could hear he was groaning through a grin too, keeping your legs steady so he could quicken his already brutal pace.

There it was again, that growing pit, the flush of electricity that erupted into your body. Your grin only grew, whining and spreading your legs out further for him, allowing him to go deeper and deeper with each groundbreaking thrust. Your legs were trembling, your knees aching and surely bruised up. But it was the last thing on your mind, all you could think about was the impending surge of pleasure. “Hell, look at you,” Joel growled, swallowing hard, “You fuckin’ love it.”

“I… Do, don’t stop!” You spread your legs further, thighs falling downwards, ignoring the burning sensation at the slightly uncomfortable position that you knew you’d regret tomorrow.

“Oh darlin, I ain’t gonna be able t’hold on much longer, not wit’you spreading your fuckin’ legs like this f’me.” Joel was holding on for dear life, becoming desperate. He knew you were close, he could feel it in the way your cunt was becoming tighter and tighter, dripping with arousal, slick running down his thighs getting lost in the hair.

“Mmmhmm, I want it daddy, fill me up.” Your words were slurred and he tensed at what you’d called him.

“Yeah, baby girl, you want daddy deep in you?” He leant over you, palm pressing against the side of your head, pushing you further against the wooden floorboards. His thumb fell just above your mouth, sitting on your lips until you wrapped them around it, sucking gently. You nodded, your body beginning to tense and tremble.

This was shameful stuff, Joel thought, stuff people go to confession and repent for. Here you were, on your hands and knees, offering yourself up, sucking his thumb, fluttering your lashes. You were either the most beautiful angel or a demon sent to lead him astray. Either way, he was relishing in it.

“Come on baby, I know it’s-”

“Oh, Daddy, I'm gonna- it’s coming, I’m-” Your frantic moans came out tumbling over his, interrupting him, arching your back up, your entire body clenching at you were engulfed in pleasure again. “Oh, Joel, Oh my god, you, f, f, feel, so good!” You didn’t care about your volume, you just cared about how amazing it felt to have Joels cock deep inside you as you twitched and writhed around him. You pushed your ass against him, trying to get him as far in you as possible.

Joel couldn’t stop himself, spilling into you will a prolonged broken groan, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, the other grasping on your hip, his head snapped back. He could’ve been having a heart attack, the way his heart was pounding in his ears. You could feel him pumping inside of you, each twitch and rope painting your insides.

“Oh, sweet girl, Christ!” He panted out of breath, riding out his high, jutting his hips forward into you as you breathed heavily beneath him, sensitive to every one of his movements. “You’re gon’ be the death of me, girl.” He fell over you, his weight pinning you down, pulling his softening cock out of you.

He rolled to the side of you, you remained laying on your front, thighs trembling, aching too much to move positions. “You still in there?” He raised his eyebrows, brushing hair behind your ear as you look up at him in adoration, big eyes filled with want. A giggle left your lips as his chest rose and fell in deep loud breaths. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“Is it like that every time?” Coarse, your voice creeped out, wiggling closer to him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his calloused hand.

“No,” sighing, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling your tired frame into his, immediately soaking in the warmth, “that was… somethin' else.”

You were quick to fall asleep in his arms. You knew you were safe, your body aching and weak. You were engulfed in his scent, head resting nestled into his armpit, soaking it all in.

He’d opened a can of worms, swarmed by thoughts he’d tried to suppress, watching you curl up next to him. He could not shake the image of you coming undone around him, surrendering so easily to him. It was so much better than he’d ever imagined, but now he’d acted on these thoughts, he could no longer suppress them. He couldn’t avoid you, the only act of indulgence he’d allowed himself was watching you through your window. Now he hadn’t just indulged himself, he’d submerged himself in you. He was ashamed. He should’ve known better.

______________________________________________________________

“Get up, gotta head back.”

You were awoken, your shirt being thrown at you, crumpled over your chest. Your eyes took a moment to adjust, sunlight seeping into the cabin. You blinked a few times, a shadow breaking up the sunlight. Your body ached like you’d ran a marathon. “Hey, Kid, wake up.” His stern abrupt voice, causing you to pout, instinctively bringing your shirt up to cover your breasts.

Joel was standing opposite you, fully dressed, bag on his shoulders, towering over you with a fed up expression painting his features. You blinked up at him a few times, frowning, confused. “Do I gotta say it a third time? Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head, turning his back on you to walk out the cabin.

A tsunami wave of embarrassment and shame flooded through you. Feeling your cheeks turning hot and purple, scrambling to get your bra and clothes on, eyes scanning the floor for your belongings. You pulled your socks on, searching for your panties. They’d seemingly disappeared. But due to Joels passive aggressive sighs outside, you decided they were a lost cause. Pulling your jeans up your legs without them. You felt dirty, your inner thighs still sticky and wet, his cum smeared across them. His coldness was causing you to do flips in your tummy. When you finally met him outside the cabin, he muttered something else under his breath and then began walking without a word.

You kept your eyes down to the ground, tail between your legs, walking in silence. You felt the tension in between you two. Like you’d upset him. Like you’d done something wrong. He didn’t dare look back at you, ignoring every noise you made, cursing every twig you stepped on reminding him you were there. And reminding him where he’d been. Reminding him of the touch of your soft skin, how small you felt in his arms, the way you were whimpering his name begging for him. He couldn’t bare it, knowing you were behind him, eyes distraught, the carpet swept from beneath you.

Your mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out where you’d messed up, what it was that was wrong. Everything had felt so right, so so good. What was it that you did that had angered him so much. You didn’t notice the branch within the leaves in front of you and you tripped slightly, falling forward, only to be caught by Joels strong hands. “Would you just watch what you’re doin’?” He bit, lip twitching, staring you directly in the eye, hands gripping onto your arms for a moment too long.

“Did I do something wrong?” You swallowed, watching him turn around on his heel, shaking his head again, like you were asking something outlandish, “I mean.. was I… was I not very good? I know I don’t have much experience but-” You were fumbling over your words again, insecurity threatening to spill from your eyes, Joel freezing in front of you.

“What we did was wrong, no matter how good it felt, for both of us.” He spoke stiff, refusing to look you in the eye when he turned around, refusing to acknowledge that you were holding back tears. “It was wrong.” He lifted his hands in front of him, as if to signal “enough”.

“But-”

“No, no, thats it end of.”

“You’re not even letting me-”

“Listen to me,” he stepped forward, now staring too directly in the eyes, inches from your face, steadying his breathing, “Last night should not have happened, It will not happen again and I’d appreciate you keepin’ it to yourself, it was a mistake, a lapse in judgment.”

His words stung. Like falling on your palms on gravel as a kid. Quick and lingering. You tried your best to hid your quivering bottom lip. You didn’t know how to respond, you didn’t know if he’d even let you. You decided against it. He’d humiliated you enough, you weren’t about to cry in front of him too.

You carried on the rest of the walk in silence. Like nothing had changed. Like you couldn’t still feel him dripping out of you. Like the ghost of your taste wasn’t still dancing on his tongue, on his lips. He could smell you all over him.

When you finally got back to town, you parted ways, the awkwardness radiating off of the both of you as you were welcomed back. He made you feel sick. It was all so embarrassing. The way he wouldn’t even look at you. But why would he? You were just one great big lapse in judgment. The return to your small cabin was lonely and you had barely gotten to your front door when you finally allowed yourself to cry. You allowed yourself one glance back at Joel, who was entering his own home, already staring you down. You sobbed a little, shooting him a cold glare before slamming you door shut behind you, sliding down it with your hands in your hair.

Joel felt guilt rotting inside him.

He entered his home alone, it was cold and he could still smell you all over him.

He took one hard step at a time, ascending his stairs, his bed creaking beneath his weight as he sat down, sighing.

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the white cotton panties, the little satin ribbon on the front crumbled and slightly undone. Lifting them to his nose, he inhaled, your scent filling his nostrils and his brain. The image of you playing on repeat behind his eyelids, like an old movie on a projector.

And with one hand holding your panties to his nose and mouth, eyes fixated on your bathroom window, he let his other one fist his cock out of his jeans, stroking it slowly.

Back to square one.

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devotedfem · 14 days ago

Text

«Alice in wonderland»

Synopsis: You were so bored you could die, but then a white rabbit caught your attention, you chased it until you fell into a rabbit hole. The rabbit turned into a cute man with doe eyes, saying odd things like; you came back, late to Jimin's tea party, the mad hatter that was waiting for you.

Jikook x f. Reader

5.5K words.

Genre: Alice in wonderland au | yander-ish.

Tags: Inspired by Alice in wonderland, captivity, naive reader, polyamory relationship, obsessive behavior, dark Jimin and Jungkook, they are whipped for reader, bunny hybrid Jungkook, mad hatter Jimin, delusional Jikook, fantasy, re-telling, plot twist, smut, dubious consent.

From the series masterlist; Hush.

Navigation Masterlist.

Permanent taglist.

You were sitting under a tree in the backyard of your aunt's country house, trying so, so hard to pay attention to her words, but failing when a butterfly flies near your aunt with its beautiful blue wings taking your attention away.

“Y/n, would you please pay attention to your lesson?” She sighed deeply, arching a brow and stopping reading aloud the history book.

You smiled at her sheepishly, feeling guilty for being caught not paying attention. It’s just that the book was painfully boring and long, you felt like aging while listening to tedious old stories.

“Sorry auntie, but how can you expect me to pay attention to a book with no pictures in it. The stories are so boring, at least there should be a picture!” You exclaimed feeling frustrated. It’s not like you didn’t want to pay attention to your lesson, it is just that it was hard for you to listen to something so boring.

Your aunt sighed again, shaking her head at your words as if she was dealing with a petulant child.

“Y/n, you’re a grown woman now, you can’t live in a fantasy world forever reading fairy tales. You have the privilege of having an education as a woman, don’t waste it.”

And her words cut deep enough to shut your mouth. She was right, you were now of age, in the perfect stage for marry. But your aunt was kind enough to help you to get an education first. She was ahead of her time and you admire her for that, so the last thing you want it’s to disappoint her.

“Sorry,” you muttered softly, hugging your knees towards your chest.

Guilt flashed your aunts’ eyes, but she kept reading to you the history book without another word.

You stayed quiet listening to her voice telling you stories about dumb and greedy wars, and gradually your eyes closed falling into a deep nap, resting against the tree drunk, unbothered to the world around you. You dreamed about a world that it was just yours, where everything works in the opposite way to the real one, ruled by nonsense and silly laws.

What it is, wouldn’t be there, and what it isn’t, would be there.

And then a thud noise snapped you abruptly out of your sleep. Your frowned and blinked confused at being awaken from a deep slumber, noticing that you were alone in the backyard, still resting against the tree.

And suddenly, a beautiful and fluffy white rabbit wearing a mini waistcoat, stands before you, holding a clock and looking straight at you. You couldn’t believe your eyes; you were completely shocked. Maybe… you were still dreaming…?

“I’m late! late! Late!” It speaks in distress, pointing and shaking its watch. He sounded like a male rabbit.

You gasped and widened your eyes taken aback. Animals don’t speak, that was absolutely impossible, but you have just witnessed the impossible in that moment. And when you pinched your arm to make sure you weren’t dreaming, the white rabbit fled away without giving you the opportunity to ask him questions.

You immediately ran after the rabbit, following him through the woods that were near your aunt’s house. The animal was annoyingly quick, but that didn’t stop you from trying to chase after him.

And then you watched how the fluffy animal entered a rabbit-hole, disappearing from your sight. You got curious, kneeling near the border of the hole, holding yourself by settling your hands on the edges to stare down into the deep void.

And then you slipped, falling right into it. You go down quickly, screaming when the opening of the rabbit-hole above you turned into a blue dot until it disappeared completely and became a pitch-black sky.

But then, suddenly, you were going down in a very unnatural slow way. You frowned, floating in the air and feeling light as a feather as you fell. In the dark tunnel appeared objects out of nowhere, things like books and jars filled the mud walls. You grabbed one book thrilled by curiosity, forgetting immediately your fear from seconds ago, widening your eyes impressed by al the impossible things happening around you. You gasped when a piano came from below, leaving aside the book to play the instrument, but you couldn't do much besides play a key because you kept falling down.

You dropped from the slow spell, falling abruptly onto an arm-chair full of leaves cushioning your fall. You shook the leaves out of your dress, watching your surroundings with uncertainty.

“Where on earth I am?” you muttered to yourself, staring at the odd hallway ahead of you.

For a moment you thought you died when you fell into the rabbit-hole, thinking that maybe this was a kind of limbo between life and death. But some fluffy animal pulled you out of your racing thoughts.

“Wait!” You screamed at the rabbit, but he ignored you, running away faster.

You ran after the rabbit, coming into a round hall with many doors. The animal was nowhere to be seen, you supposed that it might entered one of the many doors, so you tried to open them, but they were all locked.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” You asked in a loud tone, but the only thing that greet you was the echo of your own voice. Your chest sting with fear, you felt trapped.

But then you saw a table with a small key sitting on top of it. You picked it up with a grin, happy to be out of that strange hall. You tried the key on a few doors, but it didn’t open them, too small for their locks, but then you tried it on a mouse-size door, and it fit, opening the little door that shows a huge garden at the other side.

But how would you go through it if you’re too big to fit in? You wanted to cry from frustration, walking towards the table to throw the key on it. But now there was a bottle that says “DRINK ME” that appeared out of nowhere, you frowned watching your surroundings for anyone who put it there, but you were alone. You shrugged, drinking the liquid until the last drop, gasping with fear when you started to shrink to the size of a mouse, the table stood huge and large above you, and your dress was now too big for you to use, you tore a piece off to use it as a new dress.

Thankfully, the key dropped from the table when you knocked it while shrinking, falling to your side on the floor. You picked it up and used it to open the small door, stepping through it and being greet by a fantastical and whimsical world, everything looked so bizarre but so oddly beautiful, it was otherworldly, it was magical just as you imagined a fantasy world would look like.

The garden has tall flowers that loomed over you, speaking and talking between themselves, wearing human faces. They were gossiping about you as if you weren’t there listening to them.

“She’s so different,” said one red flower, looking down at you with contempt.

“She has grown up so well! Jimin and Jungkook will be happy to see her!” Said another one.

You frowned confused, what were they talking about?

“Excuse me, where am I? I’m looking for-“

“I don’t think she’s the real y/n, this girl must be another person,” said the red one, making you widen your eyes.

You asked them questions, but they ignored you.

Thankfully, in front of you appeared a pair of twins, they looked a little bit uncanny but human enough for you to trust them.

“Hi! I’m y/n, I’m looking for a white rabbit, have you seen it?” You asked them, and they looked to each other with a devilish grin, making your stomach churn.

“Is it really her?”

“Nope, ‘don’t think so, the real y/n wasn’t this dumb.”

“Hey,” you said crossing your arms, feeling uncomfortable by everyone here speaking about you in such way.

“Are you following a rabbit?” Asked the twin from the right, you nodded at him.

“Why?” Asked the other.

“Just because,” you replied, starting to walk away, but they followed you.

“You’re going backwards! That’s not the direction, here, forward is backward, and backward is forward, hello is goodbye, and goodbye is hello,” explained one of the twins, spinning your mind with confusion.

“Uhm, I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. I must be going. Goodbye, I mean, hello?” You said hesitating, but the twin nodded, waving a hand at you and staying behind with his brother.

“The rabbit’s name is Jungkook! He’s tall and has huge eyes!” One of the twins yelled at you from behind before you lost sight of them.

You walked for a long time, until your legs got tired. You were so confused of which direction you should take. In this world the right path took you to the left, and the left to the right. It was all so confusing.

And then you watch it, the rabbit from before now looked like a human man. And how did you know it was him? Because he was dressed just like the rabbit, and the tall man has cute doe and large eyes, walking in circles and watching his clock with worry. You ran towards him.

“Hi! I mean, goodbye! I was looking for you, you were the rabbit from the meadow of the upper world!” You greeted him with a smile, but he only frowned at you.

He was so handsome that it took your breath away for a second, but his knitted brows made you feel unease, maybe it was a mistake following a stranger down here.

“Goodbye? Who are you and what are you talking about?”

You grimaced with a blush, the twins were just teasing you, who in their right mind says goodbye when greeting someone? You felt dumb.

“I’m y/n, I followed you here from the upper world, when you were a… rabbit,” you muttered softly.

His doe eyes widened, and something intense and dark flashed on them, but it disappeared as fast as it came.

“Oh, I never thought you would come back. We’ve been, I mean, Jimin has been waiting for you. Come with me.” He didn’t even ask you before gripping your wrist to pull you away with him, almost dragging you. If you didn’t know better you would say that he holds you as if he was scare that you would run away, but why would you do that?

Also, he must be confusing you with another y/n just like the twins and the flowers did, because you never came to this place before.

Jungkook brought you to the backyard of an old and weird house, there it was a large table with a worn-out looking tea set on top of it, the tea party looks gloomy, the tablecloth seemed threadbare and the wooden chairs were almost rotten. A pretty man with a big red hat was sag in a chair at the head of the table, staring into space with a lost gaze.

Jungkook’s grip on your wrist tighten a little, making you frown.

“Jimin, she’s here, our, I mean, your y/n,” Jungkook announced between teeth, with his heavy and serious gaze fixated on Jimin.

The odd man named Jimin bolts upright immediately, standing up from the chair and walking towards you with large steps. You shrink a little into Jungkook, feeling intimidated by the intense and crazed eyes of the man approaching you. He stood inches in front of you, invading your personal space and staring intently at you with a bright smile, so different from his gloomy mood from seconds ago.

“Is… is it really you, y/n? Did you really come back to us?” He gushed with a shaky voice, looking stunned by your mere presence, as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Yes, I’m y/n, although I don’t remember coming here before,” you muttered, averting Jimin intense eyes.

He gripped your chin to make you look up at him. Adoration flashed his dark eyes.

“It’s okay my moon, we can make you remember,” he said with a devilish grin. He grabbed your other hand to pull you away from Jungkook, but the latter didn’t let you go, looking at Jimin with a stern and warning gaze instead.

“Calm down Jimin, don’t scare her away. She just arrived here,”

Jimin clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on your had, but that creepy expression goes away immediately, being replaced by a bright and teasing smile.

“Oh come on Jungkookie, don’t be a party pooper. I just want to catch her up on all the things she missed when she was away. Do you want to join my tea party?” He asked you softly, looking a little vulnerable this time, as if he was afraid of your rejection. You felt sorry for him, so you nodded and let him drag you away from Jungkook.

Jimin sat again at the head of the table, and you were about to sit on a chair next to him but he didn’t let you, gripping your wrist to pull you towards him and sit you on his lap instead. You shriek taken aback by his blatant and shameless gesture, who does he think he is to sit you on his lap? He’s just a stranger you just met!

“Hey!” You yelp, trying to stand up but Jimin’s tight grip on your waist didn’t let you.

“Jimin!” Jungkook’s strident yell made you flinch, even though his anger wasn’t directed at you. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked this time more calmly, taking notice of your frightened state. But Jimin pay him no mind, looking at your dress with curiosity instead.

“She used to sit on my lap all the time, we’re just catching up, I have no ill intention,” he replied nonchalant, playing with the fabric of your improvised dress.

You frowned and parted your lips offended, you don’t remember doing such thing with him, and even if that was true, he should’ve asked you first.

“Excuse me? I don’t remember doing such improper thing with anyone, you’re so rude and shameless-“ you were interrupted by his giggle.

“I don’t remember you being this decorous, aren’t you so cute and silly?” he beamed at you, and you were distracted by his sweet and bright smile for a second, it made his eyes turn into crescent moons. But you shook those thoughts away.

“And I don’t remember you at all, so could you please let go of me?” You said between teeth.

Jimin’s smile fell, and irritation flashed his gaze.

“Wouldn’t you like to remember though? To know the wonders of this world? If so, then stay still,” he whispered the last words into your ear like a warn. You gulped with fear, glancing at Jungkook with dread sinking in your stomach, but the latter said nothing, crossing his arms and looking at Jimin with murderous eyes.

“If you don’t leave her alone right now Jimin, I swear to god I’ll have you choking on your cold tea,” he threatened with dark eyes fixated on him. You flinched again; you didn’t like the tension growing between them.

But Jimin looked collected, not affected at all by the threat.

“Oh really? Are you willing to lose her again? To bring back our grief and mourning?” Those words were enough to disarm Jungkook, whose eyes flashed with deep hurt, he inhaled sharp as if Jimin’s words were a weapon aimed at his hurt.

You watched with shock how Jungkook sat right next to you two, saying nothing and averting your eyes, drinking the tea he was going to use to drown Jimin a moment ago. You wanted to laugh bitterly to his face, did he really give up by just words?

Your mind was racing with thousands of questions. What did Jimin mean by all that? Why do they think that they already know you when that was not true? You’ve never been here, and never met them before. And what does Jimin mean by grief and mourning? If it was true that you knew them and you were having amnesia, then it doesn’t make sense to use the word mourn, because you never died.

Nothing makes sense, and you felt like having a headache.

“Hey hey, none of that my moon. It’s time for the tea party not to overthink,” he said softly, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb, “also, where did you get this dress? It’s so unique, I like it.” Your cheeks heated by his compliment, feeling self-conscious of your clothes.

“I made it myself with what was left of my dress,” you muttered without giving further explanations, drained by all that was happening.

Jimin hummed, playing with the fabric again, he almost looked mesmerized by your dress.

“It’s just like you, rare but pretty.”

You cleared your throat, uncomfortable by his words. You squirm a little on his lap, stopping at Jimin’s sharp intake of breath.

“Careful there, my moon,” he whispered near your neck, with his hot breath brushing your skin and making you shiver. His hands gripped tightly your waist to stop you from moving, you didn’t understand at all what you did wrong, but Jimin sounded affected so you stayed still.

You look up and notice Jealousy flashing Jungkook’s eyes, his shoulders looked tense and the grip on his tea cup seemed tight. Why does he look so angry all the time? Jimin also notices, giggling at the latter.

“Don’t be like that bunny boy, she’s also yours.”

You widened your eyes, gasping at his audacity.

“I am my own person!”

“Of course my moon, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Jimin said gently, looking at you with puppy eyes, calming you down a bit.

You crossed your arms, looking straight ahead, ignoring them like a petulant child.

Jimin started to telling you about all the things you missed out from wonderland, like how he planned to take down the reign of the evil queen of hearts just because she hurt you once, and how he learned to customize new hats. All while Jungkook refill your cup of tea, giving you sweet treats from the table. The tea didn’t taste bad, the sunlight was warm, and Jimin’s voice was surprisingly soft enough to make you feel comfortable on his lap. Jungkook’s pretty eyes never stayed away from you, studying your expressions as if he wanted to make sure you feel comfortable all the time.

It was nice, it made you forget for a moment that you needed to head back home.

“Uhm, Jimin I need to come back home, but I promise to visit you again, I want to hear more about this world,” you said gently, and you weren’t lying, you wanted to come back but you knew deep down that you shouldn’t, because this man even though is charismatic, is also mad.

A mad hatter.

Jimin’s grip on your waist tightened until it bruised, making you wheeze in pain. Jungkook’s eyes widened with genuine fear at your words.

“No.” Jungkook’s trembling voice took you by surprise, you frowned at him, and he looked embarrassed, clearing his throat and averting your gaze. “I mean, it’s too late, we’re worry that you get hurt again. And I know you don’t remember, but believe me when I say that is for your own good, wonderland it’s dangerous at night.”

His words were enough to make you shrink into Jimin’s chest, who happily kept you into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“He’s right my moon. Jungkookie can walk you tomorrow to the hall that leads to the rabbit hole. We just want you to be safe,” he whispered gently into your ear, his words were sugar coated, sweet enough to convince you.

“Fine,” you sighed, only because you genuinely don’t know your way back to the rabbit hole. And no matter how much you wanted to run away, they were the only people you can “trust” for now.

You sleep that night in Jimin’s and Jungkook’s house, their place was a cozy cottage, full of tea cups and carrots hidden under the rut. Talking animals such as hares surrounded their home, watching you with their little heads tilted, you noticed the curiosity in their eyes.

They took you to a room at the back of the house, which according to them it was already yours before you disappeared from wonderland. You started to doubt yourself, believing that maybe you were here before and you just forgot about this world. But you knew that wasn’t true, because the clothes in the closet didn’t belong to you, they just weren’t something you would wear. The stuff, the books, the things in this room; none of it belonged to you.

And you were now more than sure that you weren’t the person they thought you were. If that makes sense.

The issue was, that you didn’t stay just for a night, you stayed there with them for a week. At morning they always offered you to see a part of wonderland, distracting you from going to the rabbit hole. One day they brought you to a huge caterpillar that looks wise and that throwed smoke to your face, watching you with surprise, saying stuff like; is it really you?

You wanted to say no so bad, but you didn’t want to make Jimin and Jungkook feel bad. You got used to them, to Jimin’s silly behavior and Jungkook’s protective gaze. You started to have fun every time Jimin customize you a new dress, with his brows knitted in concentration when he was sewing your clothes.

He made you a pretty dress one afternoon, this one was blue and it reached below your knees, what caught your attention was the white apron, which according to Jimin made the dress look even prettier.

You noticed Jungkook’s gaze darkening when you wore the dress, and you felt uncomfortable under their intense stares. Why were they looking at you like that? But you forgot about that when Jimin took you to another tea party, this time with new and funny people that made you laugh a lot.

You were under a spell of wonders and fun, not worrying about coming back to your home. Until one night.

You watched a strange cat emerging from thin air at your window, making you gasp and widen your eyes in shock. Who was that cat? You opened the window, watching how the animal was floating and twirling in the air, with a mischievous Cheshire grin curling on its mouth.

“Aren’t you a surprise? I didn’t know the dead could come back,” it teased with a devil glint in its eyes.

Your stomach churned with dread and your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t like its words.

“What?” You whispered with a trembling voice.

The cat’s grin widened.

“I can see that you’re not y/n, at least not Jungkook’s and Jimin’s. You’re her impersonator, you look like her, you’re named like her, but you’re not her,” he spoke the last words darkly, its grin looking sinister now.

You gulped your fear down, feeling like all of your doubts and fears had come true.

“What- what happened to her? How did she die?” You clenched your fists, fighting with the urge to run away.

“They killed her, not directly, but with their obsession. They scared her away, making her stumble upon the red Queen who cut off her head.”

Your heart stopped at the cat’s words, your head spined and you felt dizzy with the sudden urge to throw up. You always knew they acted weird around you, but you didn’t know the reason behind of their odd behavior, you didn’t know how deep their obsession run.

You have to get out of that house, right now.

You didn’t glance back at the cat, opening softly the door of your room, watching your surrounds with your senses heightened. When you were sure that no one was around and that the boys were sleeping, you step out of the room, with your feet bringing you silently to the front door of the cottage. Your heart was pounding and your hands trembling when you tried to turn the knob door, but it didn’t bulge.

The door was locked.

You inhaled sharp, closing your eyes to calm yourself down. You need to find the key.

“Going somewhere?” Jungkook’s deep voice make you shriek in horror; you turned around with a hand over your chest.

“You scared me,” you said instead, trying so hard to not avert your scared eyes.

Act normal.

Jungkook arched a brow, humming and walking towards you with slow steps, watching you intently.

“Where were you going at this hour? We already told that it’s dangerous out there at night.”

“I just wanted some fresh air, I wasn’t going far from here,” you simply said, trying to act nonchalant, hiding your trembling hand behind your back. Jungkook noticed.

“Fresh air?” He asked lowly, clenching his jaw and standing inches away from your body, looking down at you with anger flashing his doe eyes. “You wanted to escape, don’t lie to me.” His voice trembled with rage, and his eyes looked crazed, scaring you.

“I- no, that’s not true! I was hoping for you to take me to the hall the day after tomorrow anyway, I don’t miss home, I am always bored back there,” you muttered, trying to calm your pounding heart.

Jungkook gripped your shoulders, something dark and terrifying flashed his eyes. His breath was getting labored, and you could hear his own heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“I promise not to be like Jimin, I told myself that I will mourn you- her - ‘till the day I die. I prayed to God to bring y/n back from the dead. But then, you didn’t come back as the same person, you… you wear her face, her voice and you share the same name, but you’re not her, aren’t you?” His voice broke at the last words, staring at you with despair and grief. His bottom lip wobbled and his doe eyes swelled with tears.

You felt bad for him, so, so bad.

“I’m so sorry for your lost Jungkookie, I- I really am, but I’m not her honey. You should honor her memory by letting me go, by letting her rest,” you whispered softly, putting your hands over his and stroking them gently, looking up into his eyes with empathy. You grew fond of him over the past days, so you felt really sorry for him.

Tears streamed from his eyes at your words, and you wiped them away with your thumb, making Jungkook close his eyes and rest his cheek on your palm, opening them to watch you with deep emotion.

“You’re right, I should take you to the hall before Jimin notice, because he will lose his mind, more than he has,” he said letting go of you, opening the door and waiting for you to get out.

You smiled at him grateful, feeling relieved that at least Jungkook was being rational about this situation. The real danger was Jimin, not him.

It was silent when you two were walking, and Jungkook filled the quiet with his voice.

“I really miss her.”

You curled down your lips, feeling bad for him again.

“Can I, can I ask you how long has it been since she… passed away? If you don’t want to that’s okay,” you said carefully.

He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, and you thought that he wouldn’t answer you, but he did.

“20 years.”

You stopped walking, widening your eyes.

“What?”

“Time in wonderland works different from the upper world,” he simply said, not stopping his walk. You followed him behind.

The time passed and you still didn’t see the door that leads to the hall, the one that was close to the speaking flowers.

“Are we close?” You asked, hugging yourself at the cold.

Jungkook only hummed at your words, staring into space with a lost gaze.

“Did you know that the other y/n was in wonderland just for two days?” He said out of the blue, you shook your head but he didn’t look at you. “But it was enough to fall for her. I thought I’d forget her face and voice, until you came, all pretty and bubbly. You remind me of her, but you’re different, and you stayed longer too. You’re sweet and innocent, keeping us company and never leaving our side even though we didn’t give you space, I love that about you.” His eyes were blank and empty, and his voice was thick with emotion, making you frown with unease.

“What are you talking about? And how long it’ll take us to get to the hall? I don’t remember it being this far,” you said walking slower, studying Jungkook like a hawk.

He just shrugged.

“What I’m saying is that we fell for you too, you think that this is just our grief talking for us, but is not. You were here longer than her, you were- are - tender and sweeter than her. Jimin is already obsessed with you. We never had company that stayed with us so long, except you.”

He turned around sharply, making you stumble into his wide chest. His gaze was dark and fixated on you like a predator, making you shiver with primal fear.

“Jungkook, you don’t know what you’re saying, I’m not her!”

“I know! That’s why we want you, we won’t let you go after what happened to her, we want you as much and more than we ever wanted her!” He yelled with his crazed eyes and his vein popping on his neck.

He was losing his mind.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered with a trembling voice.

He smirked.

“So are you, we all crazy here,” he sneers, holding and trapping your body against his chest before you could run away.

You squirm in his grasp, screaming, biting his shoulder, crying for help and kicking your legs, but it was pointless. His iron grip on your body didn’t ease at all, standing tall and strong as a rock holding you against his chest with his buff arms, constricting you like a piton snake. You cried so much you ended up hoarse, at some point you felt Jungkook’s hand stroking softly your hair but you ignored him, distracted by the sound of steps behind you.

Your stomach turned with fear and dread by the voice of Jimin.

“Good job Jungkookie, I knew you wouldn’t do the same mistake with this y/n. Let’s bring her back to our home, shall we?” Jimin’s voice sounded too calm and relaxed for your liking, turning your blood ice with primal fear. The flight and fight instincts pounding through your veins.

Jimin was the calm before the storm.

They dragged you to the cottage, forcing you into a chair and tying your wrists and ankles with a thick rope. You look up at them with hatred, feeling hurt and betrayed by Jungkook. The latter averted your eyes, standing behind Jimin.

Jimin dragged another chair across the floor to straddle it, facing you and resting his arms on the backrest without taking his piercing gaze away from you, pinning you under his stare like a predator ready to pounce. You squirm feeling intimidated by his dark eyes boring into you.

“I think we should punish her by keeping her tied up for many, many days. All pretty and bound for us to play as we please, what do you think Jungkookie? Should we?” He asked Jungkook while looking straight into your eyes.

“You can do whatever you want but don’t hurt her,” muttered the traitor.

Jimin smiled like the Cheshire cat.

“Then let’s teach our girl some manners, running away like that from your host is so rude. You’ll learn how to treat us right, how to love us as we love you.” Jimin’s voice was thick with dark emotion, leaning forward to look at you with crazed and angry eyes. His knuckles turned white by how hard he was gripping the backrest of the chair. “Untie her and bring her to our room Jungkookie.” Were his words before Jungkook did as he said, lifting you to carry you to their room as if you weight nothing.

In your way to Jimin and Jungkook room, you watched the Cheshire cat floating outside the window, smirking at you and mouthing the words; I told you.

You were so fucked up, trapped in this world with two delusional men.

But there will be always another day and another chance to escape, you just hope you don’t end up like the other y/n, but maybe that fate is better than to end trapped under their house, for the eternity.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @deluluisdasolulu @uniquecutie-puffs @Marrylouise @livingformintyoongi @captainhoook @asillysimp @devilzliaison @zephyrdawn @kvstjwonnie @yoongilovescats @bammbi-jeon127 @jerdafuck @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty @catlove83 @itlover8000 @shailari

#bangtan fanfic #bts x reader #yandere bts #bts imagines #bangtan fic #bts x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin bts #bts fanfic

250 notes · View notes

rosenclaws · 17 hours ago

Text

How smug is he when he fucks you so good your orgasm makes you pass out.

purrrr omg thats such a hot prompt tbh

warnings: minors dni!!

Origins Logan -

Oh man he is so cocky about it. He's still buried deep inside of you and whispering in your ear when he hits that one spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body go limp. He's worried at first. Grabbing you and tilt your head up. He tries talking to you and when you don't respond he stops. It takes him a second but he realizes that you passed out from getting fucked too hard. Oh he just smirks. He takes care of you of course. Slipping out and probably finishing himself off in the bathroom. He cleans you up, tucks you into bed and lays next to you. When you wake back up he's all over you. Pulling you close and teasing the shit out of you. Saying that you're so good to him, letting him fuck you till you can't take it. You tell him next time don't stop and he growls and climbs on top of you, ready to make good on that.

Trilogy Logan -

Oh my god he will not shut up about it. It happens once, Logan is basically tearing you apart. Orgasm after orgasm he's pulling from you with no signs of stopping. He's whispering the most filthy things you can imagine and making you take it just how you like it. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you stop making noises. Logan slows down when he realizes you've gone completely limp. He taps your face and calls your name but you don't respond. It dawns on him that he literally fucked you to the point of passing out and he just fucking smiles. He doesn't move, instead holding you close and waiting for you to wake back up. He's gentle as he rolls onto his side. Deciding to give you a couple minutes before he gets up. Luckily you do after a little bit. Still full of Logan and his hands are rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

First thing is he does make sure you're okay but once he's sure he turns into an unbearable dick. Affectionally of course. Saying that he knew he was good but he didn't know he was that good. He fucks you again, whispering about how hot it is that you wanted him that bad. You let him fuck you till you passed out and he's never going to forget it. Pretty much every time you guys get intimate he'll bring it up and ask if you wanna do it again.

DOFP Logan -

He's more worried but he can't lie it boosts his ego like crazy. He knows he's not as young as he used to be but his stamina is still there and sometimes he wants to fuck like a rabbit. He's got you pinned against the wall as he fucks you during a break in classes. He's rougher, more feral than usual and you fucking love it. He had already fucked you early that day and your body was screaming in pleasure. A little pain but nothing you couldn't handle. Logan notices you getting weaker as you get closer, a small worry coming over him as your eyes flutter closed. It was so damn good that you lost consciousness for a second. Logan freaks out for a second. Pulling you off the wall and placing you on a nearby by desk. He's holding you close and whispering in your ear. It's not long until you come back and Logan breathes a sigh of relief. You have this fucked out happy look on your face and Logan just smirks.

Not bad for an old man huh?

Old Man Logan -

He feels guilty for pushing you too far. Even though you love it he can sometimes treat you like glass. To him he's this old perv and you're this perfect angel sent to him and so he fears that letting his animal side out would result in hurting you. The moment you go limp in his arms is the moment he panics. Did he push you too hard? Was he cross a line? This was one of the times you had begged for him to let go and he told you that you didn't know what you were asking for. But he can't say no to you and so he let his dirtier fantasies take hold and basically let himself rail you into next week.

He's holding you tight and massaging your body until you wake up. You can see the guilt in his eyes when you come back and you tell him that it's okay. That it was really hot and you want more of that side of him. He's very hesitant to believe you and he says maybe another time. It does take a bit before he's ready to go that far again but he does it because he loves you and doesn't want to hurt you.

Worst Logan -

It's like a mix of cocky and guilt. He feels bad for pushing you over the edge like that but a part of him is eating up the fact that he's still got it in him to make you scream his name. He’s more animalistic than his other selves and you begged him to let go. Show you the animal that growls and speaks in that sexy sexy voice. He had you pinned against every surface if your apartment pulling orgasm after orgasm until your voice was scratchy and your brain went dumb.

Logan hates it but seeing you passed out because of his cock makes him harder than he was before. He feels bad but fuck its so hot. He doesn’t do anything about it until you wake back up. He’s got water and makes you drink the whole glass. You think its hot seeing him so untamed. You can tell he’s turned on but he won’t say it so you are the one to break the ice. Telling him that next time don’t stop and he’s pouncing on you like the feral sexy beast he is.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett headcanon

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froggiewrites · 13 days ago

Text

Ties That Bind (2)

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: You have spent your entire life preparing to meet your soulmate. Even with the words inked on your skin, you could never have imagined how badly your other half would hurt you, nor how much you'd want him anyway. Content: GN!Reader, Angst, Soulmate AU, Imprisonment, Medieval AU, Yearning, Unwanted Soulmates, Eventual Happy Ending, Starvation, Isolation Word Count: 4.1k

You think it might have been a month. You have no way to tell other than the meals that are brought to your cell, and you know that those are inconsistent. You thought you had just truly lost track of time until one delivery was accompanied by apologies for the long wait and warning for an even longer one.

“Wartime rationing, you understand,” the soldier had said. And you do. A kingdom would never prioritize feeding its prisoners over its free people, let alone a prisoner of war. You’re at the bottom of every list, and your current bearings truly reflect that. You get a meager meal of rye bread and thick porridge semi-regularly, with some water to accompany it. Once, on a particularly good day, the porridge was replaced with a rabbit stew and the water with beer. It was one of the worst drinks you had ever tasted, but it almost made you feel full for once. On another occasion you were snuck a small bruised apple by one of the soldiers on watch. You don’t know what compelled him to do it, but the sweetness on your tongue almost made you weep.

The Commander’s visits have continued on a semi-regular basis. Not every day, but many of them. Enough that you wanted to ask him what the hell was keeping him off of the battlefield, how he had time to come mock a prisoner when there was a war to be won (or lost, hopefully). But you maintained your silence, and he kept coming. Never as kind or as warm as the first night, of course. Even the begrudging respect of the first day seems distant. He doesn’t speak much, lacking a conversation partner, but he loves to come and stare. You feel like you’re being stripped down to the bone, pulled apart and judged on a scale you couldn’t possibly begin to understand.

One visit makes things a little more clear. “They’re going to kill you if you don’t have anything useful to say, you know.” It’s almost cute, the concern on his face.

It quickly melts when you snort at the idea. So he wants you to talk? Give up your comrades to save your own skin? Ridiculous. If you were the kind of person to do that, they wouldn’t have promoted you. You wouldn’t have killed in the name of a kingdom that you had such little loyalty for.

“You don’t care if you die?” He sounds upset, which is even funnier than the thought that you would care. A month ago he wanted to kill you himself, and now that you’re content to let such a thing happen he’s displeased? Ridiculous. Maybe he’s just upset he won’t be able to do it himself, or that his work saving you will go to waste. Maybe he just doesn’t want to see a fellow soldier die in such a dishonorable way. Executions have never sat well with you either, after all. There’s not much glory to be found dying on the battlefield, but there’s none to be had dying on a stage.

You shake your head at him, shrugging once again. He scoffs at you, continuing. “It doesn’t even have to be particularly important. I’ll take anything.”

Oh, he really is invested in the puzzle you’ve become, isn’t he? You almost feel guilty, knowing he’s never going to solve it. Never going to figure out what pulls him to you, never going to understand why the sight of you behind bars pulls at him. Maybe you’ll haunt him the rest of his life anyway, despite your best efforts. You put your palms up, an attempt to calm him a bit. You tap your lips before you press your finger to them, indicating your lack of communication with him is going to be a permanent issue. He growls, and you can’t tell if it’s directed at you or just general frustration. He storms out, his boots pounding against the rough stone beneath him.

He’s back the next day, and the day after that, but he doesn’t ask you again.

He always makes a snarky comment or two, dripping with disdain, but he hardly goes beyond that. Maybe he feels it isn’t right to kick you while you're down, or maybe he feels a bit of guilt over the clear strain your injuries have brought. Today is the same as any other.

"Still keeping up the silent act?" His tone is neutral, but his eyes betray him. Every time he enters this room, he's a little more upset, a little more unsettled. He doesn't understand why he's so invested in you. You can see slight bags under his eyes; your attempts to spare him are making him lose sleep. You can't bring yourself to feel much sympathy. He has no idea the amount of pain you're saving him from.

You shake your head, giving him the same thin smile you’ve given him every time he’s come to see you. You can’t bring yourself to outright ignore him after the kindness he’s shown you, but you remain steadfast in your goal. You will die before he hears a word from you.

He lets out a frustrated growl, and you can see his nails digging into his hand. You’re wearing on his patience. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself, but it shakes on his exhale. His teeth are pressing together, turning his usually impassive expression into a grimace. “You really aren’t making this easy.”

There’s a fire under the words, smoldering rage building at your rejection. You wonder why he’s trying so hard; is his soul crying out for yours? Does your silence hurt him nearly as badly as his words hurt you? Is he normally this determined with their prisoners, or is he frustrated at his pull to you?

Your hands brush against your ribs, where you know your words lie. They seem to warm a little whenever he speaks, your body begging you to continue walking fate’s path, to speak your words, whatever they are. But you are determined to keep his body blank, scarred only by the battles he seems to adore.

His eyes catch the movement, lingering for a moment. He seems to soften for a moment, something almost resembling concern flashing through his eyes before the annoyance returns. “Stop touching your wounds. It makes it worse.” His tone is stern. A command from a man so accustomed to giving them.

It sets your teeth on edge, receiving commands from an enemy soldier. Especially the one who did this to you. Wasn’t this the point? To hurt you? No matter his kindness after, he still inflicted the wound. Who is he to tell you how to handle it?

Your hunger, lack of sleep, and screaming pain from your wounds cloud your better judgment, and you let pettiness take over as you scrape your nails down your bandages. Not enough to make any real significance in your pain, just a drop in the bucket that’s been filling with your agony since you arrived.

He winces as he watches, grimacing slightly. “You’re insufferable, General. Hurt yourself all you want, far be it from me to stop you.” There’s far more bite to his words than his previous complaints, and as he storms off, you wonder if this was his breaking point, and you won’t see the man again, not until your final day as he watches from the audience as your life is snuffed out.

He doesn’t come back the next day, or the day after that. You try to ignore how that stings. Despite how badly you wanted him to leave, his visits were the only break from the monotonous routine you're under, and the only time anybody spoke to you. Without him, you hardly feel human.

They forget to bring you food at least once, you think. You can’t say for sure, since you don’t have sunlight to track the days by, but the growling in your stomach is far worse than usual. Was the Commander ensuring you were fed? Surely not. Maybe they were treating you better when you had his attention, and now that the pressure has left the staff is more likely to let things fall through the cracks.

It is the intense growling of your stomach that leads to worried whispers among the guards outside, which eventually cultivates in one of them disappearing for a few minutes and coming back with a bowl of something steaming hot. His hands shake as he holds the keys to your cell as the others keep their head on a swivel.

Are they…breaking the rules for you?

When he enters the cell, he places the food down quickly, not daring to look you in the eye. Another soldier slips him a waterskin, which he quickly slides to you, still without looking up. Before you can even open your mouth to speak, he’s already skittering out, taking his position as though nothing happened.

You slowly pick up the bowl, inspecting it. You expect some small scraps, like the apple you were given last week. Instead you find a nice, hearty stew, made with what you think is beef. You take a small sip of the broth, and the flavor explodes in your mouth. A lovely savory flavor hits you. You swear you can taste a hint of wine. This isn’t common fare for a prisoner. Is this…their food? Did one of these men give up their own lunch for the day to ensure you were fed?

No, this is too good for a common footsoldier. This is something that might be given to an officer, or even a noble. Whose food did they steal to give to you? How much are they risking here?

You’re overwhelmed by a lot of feelings. Gratitude, first and foremost. But then confusion: why couldn’t they have just gone to the kitchen? Why the stealth, the subterfuge? That means they must be unable to provide for you through the usual channels, and, more importantly, that they’d be punished for this simple act of kindness. The kitchen hasn’t forgotten you, nor has the rationing gotten so bad they’re depriving those of you at the bottom of the food chain. This was an order. Someone has demanded your starvation.

You close your eyes and wonder. You immediately dismiss the Commander as a suspect. He’s shown you too much kindness to do such a thing, surely. Maybe that’s your soul bond talking, overriding your common sense, but something deep inside of you simply doesn’t want to doubt him. Perhaps whoever told him they wanted information? Maybe the King himself, frustrated at the idea of spending resources on a prisoner not even from his own nation?

You’ll have a lot of time to ponder that later, you reassure yourself. For now you try to savor every bite of your stew, letting the flavors dance on your tongue. You haven’t enjoyed something like this for a long time. Even before your imprisonment. The last time you can remember something this flavorful was the banquet they threw before your most recent deployment. It had been thrown in your honor, for loyal service, but it was more of an excuse for the nobles to party. That hadn’t mattered much. In spite of the dozen marriage proposals you had to fend off from the courtiers and second and third sons and daughters of some of the nobility, you had a great time. It was the last time you had seen your parents, as they told you how proud they were of you. The last time you saw many of your friends before you were sent to different posts, different fronts. You know a handful of them were slain after, in an ambush along the border a few weeks after you had all toasted to a victory you all knew you might not see.

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears begin to fall in your now empty bowl, washing away the last traces of seasoning from the wood. Had you allowed yourself to grieve all that you’ve lost, all that you’re going to lose? Of course not. You didn’t have the time. You had a war to win, to ensure their sacrifices weren’t in vain. Now you had nothing but time, and no way to help them other than your silence. That’s all you can do to save anyone now, isn’t it? Save your friends, your country, your soulmate only by keeping your mouth shut. Powerless to do anything else.

The soldier who comes to collect your bowl doesn’t comment on your sniffling. You appreciate it. You don’t have the energy right now, and you have more pressing issues to worry about than comfort from a stranger, anyway.

"When's my execution?" The soldier jumps when you speak, as they all do. They seem oddly frightened of your voice in particular. You wonder if the Commander's annoyance at your lack of cooperation is so obvious it's made them fear consequences from him. You wonder if he's a cruel enough man to make those fears a reality. Surely not, with the way he treated your wounds so kindly. Or perhaps it was simply your bond that compelled him to do that, and the universe tied you to a tyrant.

No, of course not. Surely it was fear of whoever ordered you to be starved.

"Your...what?" The boy is young, with scraggly facial hair he's better off shaving and a few pimples poorly hidden beneath it. You wonder if this is such an awful place they draft children into their armies, or, worse, they let them volunteer. This young man should not have to know war.

"My execution. I assume it's soon, yes?"

"I'm...we have no current plans to execute you, General." He's shaking in his boots, his eyes sliding away from yours. The thought of death makes him uncomfortable, and your nonchalance even more so. "You're not on death row."

You laugh, looking down at your bandages, turning a sickly yellow after weeks of going unchanged. The Commander was the only one ensuring you survived beyond the week, and he seems to have abandoned that mission. Does this young man not know about your lack of use, or was the Commander lying to you earlier? Maybe his mission to get you to talk was just a personal one. You push the thought from your mind, turning back to the poor boy in front of you. "So I'm a hostage, then?"

He wants to say no, but he doesn't want to lie to you. He's an open book, and you wonder which of your comrades will make this earnest young man's family bury him. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“They won’t take me back, you know. Goa never negotiates for prisoners of war. Strict policy.”

You can see the horror on his face at the idea of you rotting here forever. “Not even for a General?”

“Especially not for a General. I made my oath knowing what would happen if I failed. Frankly, I’d be furious if they did try to make a deal for me. Which they wouldn’t. Anything that happens to me now is simply the consequences of my failure.” He seems upset on your behalf, something you can’t help but smile sardonically at. How many of his countrymen have you cut down? This is hardly a worthy payment for the blood you’ve spilt. Even a lifetime down here wouldn’t offset the things you’ve done in the name of your people. An honorable fight still ends in death. “Tell your superiors if you think they don’t know. I have no value to them alive.”

You don’t want to spend the rest of time rotting down here, thinking about what could have been or the world outside. You’d rather have a clean ending, if you have to have one. Maybe your men will see you as a martyr. That wouldn’t be so bad.

His voice cracks as he speaks next, and you can’t tell if it’s from his age or the fear. “Y–yes Ser.”

You almost laugh. You haven’t been a Ser since that blade slipped between your ribs. It feels strange to get the respect you were so accustomed to outside of these walls. So funny how quickly your sense of self has come undone in your isolation. As the days go on, you feel all of the best parts of you slipping away: your authority, your humor, your kindness. You get the feeling very little of you will be left by the end of it all. They’re killing your soul before they take out of the body it’s leaving behind.

You hope the Commander wasn’t lying about what they’ll do once they realize you won’t speak.

Soon, you find winter has come. You cannot feel your fingers, and you can see a horrible pale has started to spread from their tips downward. You've seen plenty of frostbite on the battlefield, on poor infantrymen with torn coats and hole-filled gloves. You've seen how bad it can get, and you know that soon your skin will start to darken purple, that soon you will start to rot. There is nothing you can do, not with your raggedy clothes and threadbare blanket. The chill is seeping out of the stone below you, an inescapable creeping darkness that will soon overcome you. You had hoped for a more dignified death, but you suppose nature isn't the worst way to go. At least it won't be a spectacle. A small footnote in history at worst, the kind your eyes skim right over. People will not remember you for this. A small mercy.

He has not visited you in days, since the cold swept in. Neither have the soldiers delivering you food, or even the ones who sneak it to you. Maybe they truly are planning on letting you die down here, and the Commander has finally accepted he won't hear a word from you before you do. Maybe he doesn't want to witness it. Maybe he simply doesn't care enough to see it, is content to know you're rotting away.

You know the sound of his footsteps by heart now, despite how much you wish you didn’t. He walks slowly, downright leisurely, to your cell. Your eyes flutter open at the sound of the bars creaking open.

He has a new scar, forcing one of his beautiful eyes closed. A shame. You had decided those were your favorite part of him.

He leans down to you, knees pressing against the stone as he looks at you. His fingers slide over your bandages, and you jump under his touch. There’s little warmth in his eyes, his kindness hidden beneath the cold exterior of a soldier. He’s overlooking your form like a predator, taking in your sickly pallor and jutting ribs. His voice is cold when he speaks again. “Are you feeling like talking now?”

What?

“Hasn’t this been enough for you?” He stares at you as he did on the first day, ready to strike you down at the first sign of weakness.

Did he…no. No, no, he couldn’t have.

The Commander is the one who has been starving you.

His act slips for just a moment when he sees the look on your face, the betrayal and hurt you can’t quite hide. He doesn’t owe you anything, not really, but you realize you had almost trusted him. Never could bring yourself to doubt his intentions, not when you know what you are to each other. But you aren’t lovers, aren’t even friends. You’re enemies on either side of an endless and brutal war, and the Commander doesn’t strike you as the kind of man who likes to lose.

The regret on his face is quickly quelled as he schools his face back to neutral.

You pull away from him with what little strength you have, tucking your knees up protectively, making yourself small. How pathetic. What would the people who trained you think, seeing you show your weakness so obviously like this? They’d be ashamed. Say it would be better for you to fall on the battlefield than to allow yourself to be disgraced, stripped of your dignity. You can’t help but agree with them as you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head.

“Still nothing?” He sounds frustrated. Maybe you’re an assignment he’s failing. Maybe he hoped his kindness would get you to talk, get some kind of information out of you, and when that failed he decided to leave you to rot and see if that softened you up. You try to take some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t seem to revel in it, but your growling stomach silences that thought pretty quickly.

You want to tell him to fuck off, to scream to the heavens, but you tell yourself that you’re better than him, showing him mercy like this. That you’ll be able to die with your head held high, knowing that you stuck to your principles, that you were stronger than him, than all of this. You’ll have been kinder than he could possibly know, even after all of this.

But then he opens his goddamn mouth again. “What’s with the accusing looks? I left you to rot like you wanted. I got back onto the battlefield and cut down a hundred of your comrades while you wasted away. Why should I protect you when you can’t give me a single goddamn word?”

What was the point of silence now? You had wanted to spare him the pain, the suffering of knowing what was meant to be and what never was. But why should he be spared? Why must you bear it all on your own, while he gets to move on? Some part of him should rot here with you. Whatever part you were meant to have.

“I never hated you before this moment, Commander.” Your voice is little more than a ragged whisper, but you know he hears you. His fingers tighten against the bars, and for a moment his face betrays him: surprise, confusion, understanding all flash across it at lightning speed. You wonder how he’ll react. If he would be swallowed by the regret he deserves.

His jaw tightens. His voice is quiet, cold. He makes his stance clear very quickly: this is not a man who is willing to love you. This is a man who is furious at being deceived. “I see. That’s a shame, General. I’d always thought this was something reciprocal.” There’s some deeper meaning laced to his words, but you don’t care to untangle it. Your head is fuzzy from hunger and your heart is hardened by the time you’ve spent rotting away down here.

“It wasn’t. It was never meant to be,” you mutter firmly. You let your head loll back, hitting the stone wall with a soft thump. Your eyes fall closed, and you can feel reality start to fade away, sleep slowly tearing at the edges.

“You think you’re the only one who gets to decide that?” He’s clenching his fists, veins popping from the tension.

The kind part of you wants to give him some explanation, about how this was for him, for his own good, but the rest of you is too damn tired to try. “Yes.”

He scoffs. “This is bullshit.”

You can’t help the soft, bitter laugh that leaves you. “That’s something we agree on. This is all meaningless. A joke the universe is playing on us.”

He sounds a bit softer when he speaks again, a bit closer to how he was on the first night, but the undercurrent of rage is still clear. “Some people would want to know about this. Some people think things happen for a reason.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “You don’t. Neither do I, not anymore.”

He pauses. “You used to?”

“I used to believe in a lot of things,” you murmur.

For once he doesn’t have an answer for you. The man who spent a month begging for your words left speechless now that he has them. You expect some kind of regret, or more anger, but instead he stares at you, face unreadable. When he closes your cell door, you can hear the metal clang from the force. He walks away, his footsteps echoing loudly against the cobblestone as he walks back to his life, with a new understanding that it will be one he spends alone.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay @hank88999 @lala27715 @kyllium @nerium21 @praline357 @fangeekkk @loserclub22 @starchild-unnamed @bethleeham @whitelaxe @tiredpoetrybitch @fangirlbitch02

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #x reader #op #one piece angst

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darkwicks · 3 months ago

Note

hello!!! The 'calling them by their real name' was so cute, gave me butterflies 💗 could I request how they would react to being offered a massage (or other pampering) for gekko, Sova, and iso? ;w;

pampering them

FEATURING Gekko, Iso, Sova (separate) | gender-neutral reader, female reader in Iso's; established relationship, fluff, softness all around. | wc: ~400 each

ao3. masterlist. request rules. | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!!

“Long day?”

Gekko drops himself down on the bed with a sigh, the fatigue from the day catching up to him. He’s been training with Harbor recently, learning about firearms and combat, and it would seem that Harbor is an active teacher. A little too active, perhaps. He looks exhausted, cheeks flushed and body weary from the labour he had to do. You spin around on your chair to face him, an amused smile playing at your lips. He rarely ever complains—he’s a determined person, but you can just tell from looking at him that he’s sore all over.

“We did endurance training today,” he says, his head thrown back against the pillow. “I swear he’s a monster.”

“Well, it’s Harbor,” you reply, making your way over to him. “Do you want a massage?”

He blinks. “You’d do that for me?”

“You look like you need one.” You chuckle and cup the side of his face, looking down at him with a tender gaze. “It might help with the aches.”

“Okay. Sounds… Sounds good. So how do I…”

“Turn over.”

He complies, rolling onto his stomach with a grunt. You make quick work of straddling him and reach for his shoulders, pressing your thumbs down on the stiff muscles and rubbing them in soothing circles. The action makes him let out a sigh of relief, his head dropping into his arms as you begin to relax the tension in his body.

“I’ve been learning with Sage,” you explain. “She said it’s important to stretch and massage our muscles when they get sore. Improves blood circulation and stuff.”

He giggles under his breath. “It tickles.”

Impulsively, you jab his sides, making him laugh out loud and squirm away. You wiggle your wingers against his skin, grinning when he tenses up and blindly swats you. His shoulders shake with laughter as he scrambles into a sitting position and playfully pushes you back with a huff.

“I thought you were gonna help me relax!”

You snicker. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Lay back down, I’ll do it properly this time.”

“I’m just gonna take a warm bath,” he huffs. “You’re evil.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You feign disbelief and shrug your shoulders, giving him a look of confusion. “I’m just trying to help.”

Before your hands can reach him again, he gets up and points an accusatory finger at you, still laughing. “I’ll get you back for this. Just watch!”

“Sure, baby. I’ll be waiting.” You breathe out, content with the outcome. Sure, you might not have helped that much, but he’s looking a lot less stressed than when he first came in. That’s still a win in your book.

“You do this every weekend?” he asks, peering up at you through his lashes. He’s seated in between your legs, a clay mask on his face as you massage his scalp gently, easing his tension. There wasn’t any special occasion. You just saw a video online of couples doing self-care day together and wanted to try it out. Surprisingly, he agreed, and now here he is, being pampered by you.

It’s quite a sight. Former assassin of the Scions of Hourglass, wearing a rabbit headband and holding a stress ball instead of a gun. There’s a reality show playing on the TV, courtesy of you and your insistence of “having girl talk.” It’s really just an excuse to gossip about the obnoxious people in the show, but sometimes this silliness is exactly what you need. Iso won’t admit it himself, but you know these shows are his guilty pleasure. He’s not good at hiding it. You always feel him watching behind your back with your hands on his hips, fully invested in the drama unfolding only to walk away when you turn to look at him.

It’s adorable, really.

“Not every weekend. Just whenever I feel like it,” you reply, moving to massage his neck. “I bought new stuff and wanted to try them with you.”

“But you don’t have anything on.”

“‘Cause this is about you.” Your hands move to his shoulders now, pressing hard against the stiffness and slowly undoing the knots with your touch, earning a quiet relieved groan from him. “You’ve been working really hard lately. I thought I’d treat you to something nice.”

“And this headband was necessary?”

You snort. “Very necessary. We need to keep your hair out of your face or it’ll get stuck to the mask.”

Not convinced by your reasoning, he narrows his eyes at you. “And?”

“And I thought you’d look cute in it.”

He leans his head back against your lap, eyelids fluttering shut as your fingers move back to his scalp to massage his temples. He’s sitting comfortably, squeezing the stress ball from time to time while he tunes out the rest of the world, only feeling you. Just to see what he’d do, you suddenly stop your ministrations and pull your hands back.

His eyes snap open. “Why’d you stop?”

“I wasn’t sure if you like it or not,” you lie half-heartedly, biting back the teasing grin threatening to stretch across your lips. “I’m tired.”

He reaches for your hands and brings them back to his head wordlessly, tapping twice as a sign to continue. You chuckle at his response and resume what you were previously doing, letting out an exaggerated sigh. He’s cuter than he realises.

“What a bossy client.”

He huffs. “Then do your job.”

And to think he was so indifferent when you first suggested this activity… your Iso is a total softie.

You hum a soft tune under your breath as you wrap the towel around Sova’s hair and gingerly squeeze, drying it off the water from the earlier shower. It’s still early in the evening—the sun has just gone down—and since he’s finally off work, you decided to treat him for the time being. He’s sitting on a chair in front of you, eyes trained on your form while you work. Feeling his gaze on you, you meet him in the mirror, slightly flustered from how intense it was.

“You okay?” you ask.

Hanging the towel elsewhere, you pick up the hairbrush and begin to comb it through his hair. The bristles glide through his soft strands with ease, the movements smooth and painless. He’s practically melting into your touch, his chest rising and falling with a breath of relaxation. You gently tilt his head back and lean down to press a kiss on his forehead, earning a small smile from him.

“I like when you do this,” he says. “It feels nice.”

The corners of your lips curl up, heart fluttering at his honesty. “I’m glad.”

With a generous drop of oil in your hands, you bury them in his hair and massage his scalp, evenly spreading the substance across his strands. He doesn’t generally do much to it outside of using shampoo or conditioner, but with how sunny it’s been lately, you wanted to make things a little easier for him.

“Your hair’s so nice naturally,” you hum, placing your hands on his shoulders and squeezing affectionately. “I’m jealous.”

“But you’re beautiful too, angel.”

Heat rises to your cheeks. You playfully swat him, pretending to clutch your chest in pain. “You can’t just say that, Sasha. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

He gently tugs on your sleeve. Taking the hint, you step around to take a seat on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. His hand comes to support your waist, sliding up your shirt and caressing your skin lovingly. You rest your head on his collarbone with a content sigh, comfortably curling into him. You softly smile at him upon meeting his gaze in the mirror. He looks so much more domestic compared to his usual demeanour. With freshly combed hair and a loose sweater on his frame, you think he looks perfect—so handsome, so completely yours.

“Let me take care of you too,” he murmurs against your temple, lips brushing against it in a chaste kiss.

Unable to stop the smile from growing wider, you nod eagerly. “Okay.”

#thank you for reading my fics nonnie!!!! <3333 #all #valorant x reader #gekko x reader #iso x reader #sova x reader #valorant fluff #valorant

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torukmaktoskxawng · 1 year ago

Text

Happy Little Accident

Pairing: So'lek/Avatar!Fem!Reader

Summary Here

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, (alien) pregnancy trope, only mentioned smut but strongly detailed, mentioned p in v (wrap it you skxawngs), one-night stand, swearing, hinted unwanted pregnancy, mention of labor, at least one use of Y/n, proofread by me, time jumps, etc.

Word Count: 6k+

Request By: @inolaphoenix

Taglist: @taronyuhunter @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @mooniequeen @avatar-lover

~~~~~~~~~

The moment Priya gave you the blood work on your avatar, you knew you were in deep shit with Alma.

Obviously, humans make mistakes all the time. These things happen. But you didn't have much of an excuse because you were in your avatar form when it happened, and normally, you hate it when people blame alcohol for their mistakes. In your mind, that's not an excuse. You would be a hypocrite if you did the same when Alma finds out your avatar is pregnant.

It was undeniably strange to be pregnant in one body and... empty in the other. After Priya gave you your results, you stayed out of the link bay for a week, too weirded out by the idea. That whole time you remained in your human body, you tried your best to figure out what to do and who to tell.

You should tell So'lek... right? After all, he played his part in this as well. A part of you felt guilty. He rarely smiles let alone 'lets loose', and the one time he decided to indulge in a few drinks and celebrate against the Sky People, you both end up outside of HQ toward the edge of the forest, fucking like rabbits in a frenzied heat which now led to this.

Not like you regret that night, despite everything. You've had one-night stands in the past (how else are humans going to pass the time on a moon that wants to kill them?) but that night with So'lek was easily the best. It wasn't hateful, but it was definitely rough and desperate. It felt like you were both so into it, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends, unable to keep each other's hands off of your bodies. You felt as though he was mapping every inch of your skin, but no matter how much he tasted you, it was never enough for him.

But by morning, he was gone, and you felt stupid to believe a drunken night would change anything. He was So'lek after all, the lone Na'vi, driven to avenge his butchered clan. He hated humans and had very little empathy for avatars, always saying the word 'dreamwalker' with distaste. He treats you much like how he treats Alma or Priya. With indifference. You should've known a few drinks and a good fucking wouldn't change a lifetime of hate. Neither would a baby.

The word alone made you hold your breath, out of fear or excitement, you weren't sure. You never thought you'd be a mother, especially on Pandora where the odds weren't exactly in your favor. Up until this point, you had only referred to your situation as a 'pregnancy' and hadn't even used 'child' or 'baby'. Until now, as you finally came to terms with the uncertainty that lay ahead in your future.

One thing was certain: You couldn't tell So'lek.

If he didn't care for humans or humans that look like Na'vi, you knew it wasn't possible for him to care for a hybrid of the two. You've experienced firsthand what the Na'vi think of you and Alma's avatars... and you've seen firsthand what the Na'vi think of children from said avatars. You didn't want that for your child, even if it meant shielding them from their father.

You knew you needed to plan, but first, you needed some trusted help. Priya gave you your blood work results, but thankfully, she didn't read them because if she did, all of Resistance HQ would know about your pregnancy before you could even wrap your head around the idea of it.

Alma would likely lecture you on contraceptives like you were a child despite the fact you were closer to her age compared to the Sarentu students she taught, so for the time being, you would keep her in the dark. The Sarentu, however...

You have grown fond of the young group of Na'vi since they first joined the Resistance. Alma used to tell you stories about the children she taught back at TAP. Fun stories, embarrassing stories, all of which made you smile or laugh. When you first met the Sarentu after they were rescued, you immediately welcomed them with open arms into the Resistance, and they have grown quite attached to you... well, other than Nor. He looked at you the same way he looked at Alma, the same way So'lek looked at all dreamwalkers.

You decide to confide in Ri'nela and Teylan about your pregnancy and make them promise not to tell Nor, knowing he'd likely tell So'lek. Both were excited for you and willing to help in any way they could. The three of you come up with a system to prepare for the day your avatar would begin to show your pregnancy, but until then, you must plan for your new arrival.

~~~~~~~~~

The regret and disgust he felt after fucking a dreamwalker has kept him away from HQ more than usual-- and that's saying something.

It wasn't as though So'lek was disgusted by you, but mostly himself. He thought he was better than that, stronger than primal desires that come out during a moment of weakness and the influence of alcohol. He should've known that his life of solitude would eventually get the better of him because not even his hand would be able to quench that need to have a warm, wet pussy wrapped tightly around his cock. He saw a chance to have that again, if only for a moment, and the alcohol helped him gladly take that leap. Your own hand was enough to rile him up when you held onto the back of his neck for dear life as he had you pinned against a tree. Maybe you hadn't realized it in the moment of primal desire, but your fingers were absently tracing the base of his kuru and the memory of your touch was enough to make him light-headed.

It wasn't healthy for him to be living out in the wild alone if this is how he reacts to one simple touch, so desperate for that connection with anyone... including a dreamwalker. He was disgusted, but again, mostly with himself, feeling as though he took advantage of you and the moment, ready to do anything to have your tight pussy hugging him and keeping him warm and needy.

He always considered intimacy to be an activity only meant for two individuals who were either mates or people who had a deep connection with one another. He didn't have either of those things with you. At least... that's what he kept telling himself after that fateful night, the night he slipped away once your exhaustion took over and you couldn't keep your eyes open a second longer. He had been internally punishing himself every day since then.

You come from a species that murdered his entire clan. That thought alone made him feel guilt and shame in his gut for ravaging you, his usual need for revenge pushed back in his mind and replaced with the need to fuck your pretty pussy. The fact that you managed to distract him from his lifelong goal if only for a moment, angered him. The fact that a sky demon had this effect on him had him reeling down his tunnel of shame.

Then again, he knew you were not solely responsible for the death of his clan. He had to continuously remind himself that you were his ally and not someone like Mercer or Harding. You had an avatar like Alma, but in So'lek's opinion, you have done far more good than Cortez has. You actively prove yourself, time and time again. When the Sarentu returned, you immediately went out of your way to make sure the younger Na'vi felt comfortable and welcomed in their new home. So'lek had watched you during these moments, wondering if you had originally been there when his clan was butchered, would you have treated him the same? You're always kind and patient, especially against his scrutiny. He doesn't know why you thought he deserved your kindness, but maybe that's why he thought he could be vulnerable toward you.

If he deserved it back then, he definitely didn't deserve it now after immediately leaving you high and dry that fateful night like you were just a cum dump. You weren't, and even he thought you deserved better, dreamwalker or not. Despite how he felt what you did or didn't deserve, So'lek had been avoiding you like the plague. Little did he know you were doing the same.

Even when he did see you, which was rarer than ever, it was only when Alma forced the pair of you in close proximity, and you were always in your human body, never in your avatar. If your eyes ever met, you always ducked your head when he glanced at you or hid your face behind a breathing mask. So'lek could only imagine how you felt after that one night. He imagined you were as equally ashamed, judging by the fact you rarely looked him in the eyes, and also because you don't ever use your avatar body around him. He wasn't blind. He knows that was likely the reason. So'lek imagined that you probably didn't feel comfortable being a dreamwalker around him anymore, even more so than before when he used to verbally mention his distaste for them.

~~~~~~~~~

You're definitely showing.

Teylan had given you his old TAP shirt to wear (the logo covered with a badge Priya made for him stitched over it) but even then you felt like everyone was staring at your middle. Maybe it was just your paranoid pregnancy brain, but you were pretty sure you weren't imagining the way Alex's eyes drifted down to your stomach when you stood your avatar to full height before he quickly glanced away. After that, you wore your bulletproof vest over your middle.

It also didn't help that you've started to 'nest', which essentially just came down to you and Ri'nela practicing your newly earned weaving techniques to try and fashion a bunch of Na'vi child-sized items. Whatever she learns from the Aranahe, she brings back for the both of you to practice and learn the new skill, and while at first, it seemed hopeless, eventually you fashioned a cute, tiny loincloth that actually made you tear up at the sight of it in your large hands.

You know you'll eventually have to tell the rest of the Resistance, but you, Ri'nela, and Teylan have made plans that last at least until the end of your second trimester. Maybe if you slowly introduce everyone to the idea of a Na'vi baby being around, maybe the blow wouldn't be so hard when you eventually share the news. Or, and this may be the paranoia part of your brain, maybe you could just move your avatar far away from here, either to live alone or live with whatever tribe would accept you until the baby is born.

Either way, you're running out of time.

~~~~~~~~~

"Are you with child?"

Ri'nela looks up from her datapad, her confusion met with a stern, possibly overprotective So'lek as he stares the young Sarentu female down with a questioning gaze. Ri'nela's blood froze when she suspected why exactly he might be asking her, but she played it off to the best of her ability, "What? No?"

"Then what is this?" Her heart plummets when So'lek raises a small item in his hand. It was tinier than even his palm, a little beaded top meant for a Na'vi baby. So'lek's tone remained accusatory, interrogating one of the young adult Sarentu he feels responsible for, "I saw you weaving it earlier."

Her lie rolls easily off her tongue, "It is just practice. I make smaller versions of things that I want for myself. Once I get the technique down right, I'll make a bigger one that will fit me."

So'lek's eyes narrow further with suspicion, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"There's a scent on this one."

Again, Ri'nela's blood grows cold, but she uses nearly every muscle in her face to keep her expression neutral. Whatever expression she projects, So'lek doesn't read anything off of it as he continues, "It is faint but I recognize it. It is the scent of a pregnant Na'vi."

"It is not mine."

"Then whose..."

Ri'nela's tail is the thing that betrays her, flicking irritably from side to side behind her. It is also the thing that attracts Teylan to her side, the male Sarentu bounding over to Ri'nela and So'lek without care or notice of the tension between them. So'lek's eyes dance between the two younger Na'vi, still suspecting the small item in his hand. If it didn't belong to Ri'nela, then it must belong to another female Na'vi, but barely any come around the Resistance HQ and he highly doubted any of them would leave their future child's clothes behind. However, even if there weren't any female Na'vi around, there were still female dreamwalkers.

Alma was definitely not pregnant. So'lek had just seen her that morning and her scent was still the same as it had always been. As for the other female avatar, So'lek doesn't dare try to think about the last time he saw you--

... Ri'nela watches as realization dawns on So'lek's face, a brief moment of horror before it's quickly replaced with stern determination.

"Where is Y/n?"

"She's out." Ri'nela quickly answers.

However, she should've said something more when she noticed Teylan's ears and tail perk up with interest out of the corner of her eye, just as he spoke up, "Yes. She said she was going to the Kinglor Forest to collect samples!"

"Teylan," she hissed quietly, immediately regretting it when Teylan flinched and stared at her with almost comical wide eyes. She sighed and immediately apologized under her breath, her hand soothing his shoulder whilst she hesitantly stared up at So'lek.

His eyes continue to narrow down at her as if he was lecturing a child. He could easily tell that Ri'nela was trying to hide your whereabouts from him, and now he needed to see for himself as to why... though he was starting to piece the puzzle together in his head.

"She should not be traveling alone. I will go find her."

Before Ri'nela could even protest, So'lek whips around and leaves the base.

~~~~~~~~~

If you thought your first trimester was rough, you clearly weren't prepared for your second.

Your belly finally beginning to grow past your shirts and barely hidden in your loosened vests, you have begun to journey out of HQ on your own to not raise suspicion. During these times away, you've indulged yourself in hiding under your clothes less and today was no different, setting your vest and shirt down on a nearby rock while you wad into the shallow water of the river you found, wearing only your avatar-size bra and safari shorts. You bend down into the water to take a few vial-sized samples to bring back to the lab for Alex, but you've lately had to bend your body differently than normal with your rounded stomach now starting to get in the way of your usual activities. You straighten back up with a loud sigh, stretching your back and absently rubbing your belly before taking your hand away again to stopper the vial.

Had you been born and raised as Na'vi, you would've noticed you were being watched immediately, a thought that came to So'lek's mind as he discovered you on the river bank. He remained hidden for the time being, quietly observing as you cheerfully hum to yourself to pass the time during your research. His yellow eyes widen at the sight of you, visibly glowing while your changed scent wafts in his nose, answering all his previous questions. Now the sudden disappearance of your avatar from his presence finally made sense to him, eyes lowering down your body until they landed on your newest, most prominent feature.

You finally notice something wrong with your surroundings, your ears picking up something you didn't initially hear, and a different scent suddenly fills your nose. Looking around you happen to look over in his direction as you gasp out of terror, dropping your vials into the river, hands coming up to hold your heart before you realize who it was and you force your heartbeat to relax. For a moment, you're calm, before you finally remember why you feel so exposed as his eyes zeroed in on your belly, "Oh, shit, So'lek--"

"How long have you known?" He demands outright, stepping out into the open, just along the riverbank.

You pause, ears folding back against your skull as alarms go off in your head, unable to recall all the lies and excuses you had practically rehearsed in the mirror for weeks on end. You find yourself muttering the truth, "... I found out three weeks after... you know, after you and I--"

"That was MONTHS ago," he unexpectedly snarled, narrowed eyes flicking up to yours, "And when exactly were you going to tell me about this?"

The hostility toward you brings out your defensive side as your eyes squint at him, "I didn't think you'd want to know."

"In what world would I not want to know about something like this? Why would you keep something as serious as this from me?"

"Last I checked, you wanted nothing to do with me," you snarled back, recalling the morning she woke up and he wasn't there, "What else was I supposed to think?"

"You could have at least told me I was going to be a father from the beginning!"

"And how do you think I feel?!" You screeched, clenching your hands into tight fists as you gritted your teeth, "I'll have to give birth in a body I wasn't even born in! I'll have to raise a child that's technically not even the same species as me! And let's not forget that my baby daddy hates the very sight of me!"

He wasn't familiar with the human term 'baby daddy' but by the tone of your voice, it wasn't meant to be a good term. While you made very good points, his head was now less angry and more reeling over the fact that you were pregnant with his child. The shock was finally settling in and while a part of him says he should be... pleased, the other part of him felt estranged by the whole ordeal. Growing up, he had always been taught the joy of becoming a parent, but after losing the majority of his clan, he felt as though that future was already dead and gone. But now you stood before him, and so much conflict was welling up inside him. You weren't his mate, and one could argue you weren't even the same species as him, but one night of mistakes led to a child that So'lek wasn't sure would be welcomed in this world of Eywa.

While he sounded less angry when he next spoke, it didn't hide the disappointment in his voice, "That does not explain why you chose to keep a child of mine a secret from me--"

"--Because I knew this is exactly how you'd react!" You snap, "What would you do in my situation?"

He remained quiet because he wasn't foolish enough to try and lie to you. He honestly wouldn't know what to do if he was in your place. His silence was all the answer you needed, as you slowly started to relax your posture and give into an emotion that looked a lot like defeat,

"Listen, I get that you don't like me. I'm fairly certain you actually hate me, which is why I kept this from you. I didn't want my child growing up thinking their father hated their mother."

The words make his ears twitch but he otherwise didn't say a word, allowing you to continue. Your voice comes out distasteful, a tone that comes out every time you speak of your home planet, "Believe it or not, that's very common back home and I didn't want that for any child of mine... human OR Na'vi.

"And... and I know you've never met Jake Sully or his family, but I have. Before he left the Resistance to me and Alma, I got to know his kids. One of his sons and his adopted daughter were born with avatar traits. Brows, fingers... Lo'ak and Kiri were on my mind when I found out I was pregnant. I've seen firsthand how they're treated by other Na'vi. I've seen how Lo'ak treats himself, and... and I didn't want that for my child, especially if they end up looking like me. I didn't want them to grow up believing they were some sort of monster or demon."

Your look of defeat turns sour while pointedly glaring over at So'lek, "And YOUR presence wouldn't help that."

The silence is deafening, or more specifically his silence. You notice how the river and the forest around you felt alive with noise and beauty, yet So'lek stood among all of it like a ghost, silent as the grave. The only indication that he was still alive was the tail behind him, twitching to indicate he was contemplating.

Confliction was still at war in his head. This was still a child you were talking about. His child, and yet you felt the need to hide it from him. And yet, instead of anger, he felt guilt and shame because he knew you had every right to do so. It was his fault. He had made his distaste for your kind known, and many times it was even said to your face. You had every reason to believe he would care very little for a child made by both him and you. So'lek was ashamed of himself because you felt the need to shield your child from him, a child that wasn't even born yet. You made valid points that not even he could argue with. This child may be born with Na'vi in its veins, but vrrtep blood would also be added to the mix. So'lek would be lying to himself and his child if he went around hating all humans and avatars and yet loved a baby made by both him and a dreamwalker regardless.

The fact that he still wanted to love the child regardless came to mind, and he honestly surprised himself with this revelation. Perhaps that was why he was so angry before. Because you were hiding a child he could love. Despite everything, this was still So'lek's child and a deep and secret part of himself was glad that out of everyone he had ever known, you were the child's mother. If Eywa had to pick anyone to carry his child, So'lek was relieved she picked you because despite you're differences, he trusts you more than any human alive.

It was selfish of him to think after everything he's said and done, but a deep part of him wanted this child to be born looking like you, or, technically your avatar. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious, and he looks at your eyebrows and extra fingers now with curiosity, not hatred. Because that's what it really comes down to. You think that So'lek would hate a child who has human traits, but that is far from the case. So'lek didn't care about what the Sky People and dreamwalkers looked like. He never has and never will.

He doesn't judge what people look like on the outside, but he judges them for whatever is held within. How could he hate an innocent child who would clearly grow up only knowing the best parts of both their father and mother? You were clearly a kindhearted tawtute. There is nothing but good inside you, and that was the only thing So'lek had cared about in others. It was easy for him to hate all Sky People because up until the Resistance, he thought all Sky People were terrible and cruel, the sole reason his clan was gone.

And now... his clan could be restored again. Probably not to the state it was before, but it was a hopeful and bright future for So'lek and his child. He thought he would die alone and with everything his clan had taught him, but now... he could pass on that knowledge and teach his child everything he knows. However, one quick look at your expression and he could tell that you would need a whole lot of convincing.

"You are right."

Your brows furrow with confusion, "Say that again?"

"Had you told me sooner, I likely would not have reacted well."

Your tone drops into sarcasm, "Oh, and this was you reacting well?"

"Worse," he corrected himself with a small roll of his eyes, "I would have reacted worse than I did now."

"Right."

He sighs heavily, "I do not think I can pretend and be comfortable about... everything that has happened between us, but I want to try."

"To try what?"

"To try whatever it is you want to do," the small look of confusion on your face only makes me further elaborate, "You have a choice, 'eylanay. And whatever choice you make, whether I agree with it or not... I will try and respect it."

You're still trying to wrap your head around the fact that So'lek has yet to pull you into a full-blown screaming match, so your reactions were admittedly slow, "What choice are you talking about exactly?"

"Whether or not you will allow me to be a part of the child's life."

He watches your eyes widen in shock, "You... want to be?"

"Yes, I do," the Na'vi male nods firmly and confidently, "I understand why you would be hesitant, but I promise that if you give me the chance, I will be a part of this child's life every step of the way. You see... to me, it does not matter what flows through one's veins. I have never, not once, judged your appearance because that is not what matters to me."

You pause and think back to all the time you've known So'lek, and he was right. He never talked badly about what humans looked like. He never even outright talks about you or Alma's appearance as avatars. The only thing he outright disapproved of was you trying to pretend to be something you're clearly not.

When you don't argue with his statement, So'lek continues, "Any child born from us will never be judged for their appearance or who they were born from, I swear it. The only thing that matters is their heart and soul, and I know, with you as their mother, this child will have a good and kind heart and soul, and will never know the deep hatred and greed of the people you were born to."

His words honestly drove you to stunned silence, unsure how to respond. You were speechless, opening and closing your mouth to form a reply, but you were too surprised to speak. You had so many questions, other things that the two of you would have to worry about down the road, like what does this mean for the two of you and if you were going to need some form of co-parenting dynamic. You decide not to bring this up right away, as you've been thrown for a loop once already today.

Slowly, you finally just decide to nod and see how this goes, awkwardly answering, "Okay."

His gaze was cautious, but even from where you stood, you could've sworn you saw a flash of hope in his eyes, his tail betraying him as it swayed behind him, "Is it?"

"Yeah," you start to grow nervous under his careful eye, looking around so you can find something to do, "Yeah, um... Let-- Let me just retrieve my vials and then we can head back to HQ to talk more."

You go to bend down to find the stoppered vials you had dropped into the shallow water of the river, but you don't get very far before So'lek steps into the river as well and crouches down before you, his hands already underneath the surface and leisurely searching for the vials in question. You stand back up to your full height and just watch, curious despite the warmth you feel growing up your neck.

The water makes the sound of a surfaced splash as So'lek's hands rise out of the water with the vials in hand, standing up to his own full height, which easily towered over your avatar's. You hadn't realized how close he had been until he was handing the vials to you, and immediately you look away and clear your throat.

"Thank you. So... how did you find out?"

He briefly frowned before comprehending what you were trying to ask and reached into his pouch. He lifts his hand and you recognize the beaded top Ri'nela promised to finish for you when you no longer had the time to do so.

He looks at the item with you, "I thought it was Ri'nela's."

A surprised snort of disbelief escapes you, the nerves now bleeding into amusement, "Ri'nela?? Seriously?"

His ears twitch irritably, but it doesn't intimidate you. Not this time. "Yes."

You smirk, "Believe me, big guy. If Ri'nela was pregnant, I would've killed the one responsible ages ago."

Unexpectedly, your chest floods with warmth as So'lek makes a deep, reverberating sound and it takes you a moment to realize it was a laugh. The laugh was short yet sweet, and when So'lek recovered, there was still a small but clearly visible smile.

He takes a brief moment to think before he holds out a hand, making it clear about his intent, "May I?"

You look at his hand then look back up at him, nodding before moving your arms to your sides so that So'lek has full reign of your belly, but he doesn't take advantage of it. If anything, he almost looks hesitant, internally stunned that you gave him permission. He slowly places his hand over your pregnant stomach, and you are quickly reminded of how large his hands are.

Neither of you say a word, just standing in the shallow part of the river, the water up to your ankles as you both stare down at So'lek's hand, placed gently over your round belly. You know So'lek must have felt something because his tail curled to alertness behind him, and his mouth slowly formed a brief, fond smile, which undoubtedly made your heart squeeze.

As you watch him technically interact with your unborn child for the first time, you start to feel incredibly grateful for how your situation turned out. You haven't known Eywa and her beauty for very long, so you're not sure if she deliberately picked So'lek for this to happen with you, but all the same, you were glad it was him out of everyone you know. You didn't know the sentiment was mutual.

"So'lek?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~

MONTHS LATER...

One look at So'lek and you knew that twins weren't common among Na'vi. He had to have someone explain to him the amount of babies human females can bear, and his expression of horror honestly made you laugh more than anything, despite how exhausted and overwhelmed you were. While you didn't give birth in your human body, your avatar still contained remnants of human DNA, and back on Earth, your family had a history of twins, so in conclusion, you shouldn't have been all that surprised. Still, you didn't think that would transfer over to your false Na'vi body.

You didn't blame So'lek for being horrified. You were just as equally scared. You thought the two of you might be able to handle keeping one child safe during a war, but two? As you and So'lek looked at each other, you didn't have to say a word to know what the other was thinking. After all, it came with the territory of being mates. You tend to always know what is going on in each other's head.

You never thought So'lek might actually care for you more than just as the mother to his child, but over the last months throughout your pregnancy, he made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't have shown interest the night you two ended up fucking against a tree if he didn't already care for you. His feelings were complicated, yes, but due to a lifetime of death and revenge, no one could really blame him. He was honest with you one night when you finally asked him where you two stood in all of this and what it would mean to raise a child together.

He was honest when he said he wasn't going to mention it because he thought you regretted it. And in a way, he did regret your one-night stand, but for a completely different reason. He admitted that he thought you deserved someone better, someone, who didn't initially spit in your face when you both met because he thought you might be just like all the other Sky People. Pregnancy aside, he confessed how much he had grown to care for you, but he knew it all initially started way before you two had your night of fun during that one fateful celebration. He knew he cared for you even before that, he just couldn't admit it to himself before he got drunk and had his way with you.

Once boundaries were made and feelings were shared, So'lek brought you to a special place, the Tree of Souls. The two of you, no longer influenced by alcohol or conflicted emotions, bonded and mated before Eywa. You blamed your pregnancy for how emotionally intimate it felt for you, all your hormones going through the roof, and it only spurred So'lek on since he could feel it all through tsaheylu. Unlike your one-night stand, this was slow and passionate, and it likely would've gone all night long...

That is, until your water broke. But hey, things happen.

Despite all the confusion, doubt, and fear fighting in your mind about the war and how you'll have to protect your children, you took one look down at your twin sons and all those thoughts went away. You never thought you'd be a boy mom, let alone a boy mom to twins.

Once So'lek's initial shock wears off, he's immediately tending to you and your sons. Sons. He still can't wrap his head around it. This was far more than he thought he deserved, beyond his wildest dreams.

Weeks go by, and now all of Resistance HQ has grown accustomed to your new family dynamic, and many of your friends were over the moon about your boys. To play it safe, you didn't break your link with your avatar until the body fully recovered from labor and the babies no longer needed to be nursed, but you kept yourself entertained with your new family, unable to stop smiling at the sight of your husband and sons.

To give your new family some privacy, Ri'nela and Teylan took a private room in HQ and formed what they called a "nest corner", which came down to essentially just a bunch of pillows, blankets, soft, warm little lights hanging from the ceiling, and even two hammocks. The two snonivi in question apparently were woven by Nor, but you're not entirely sure, a little put off by the fact that he actually wanted to help.

As So'lek stood up from your little nest of blankets and pillows, one of your sons safely sleeping in his strong arms, you had the sudden urge to tug on your mate's tail.

So'lek whips around and points at you with a finger and a knowing glare, "Behave."

"Or what?" You grinned, your tail flirtaciously swaying behind you and you watched the way So'lek clearly noticed it.

He huffs lightly, shaking his head at your antics, playfully warning you, "Easy, yawntutsyìp."

You bite your lip to refrain from smiling uncontrollably, briefly looking down to check on your other son, also sleeping but in your lap as you sit cross-legged before you speak once more, a playful tone still etched in your voice, "You know... Anufi says that I have about one more week before she thinks I'm fully recovered from labor. So... I'm just saying... pretty sure I'll be going back to my usual mischief again soon."

He shakes his head once more, but he can't exactly hide the way his tail perks up with interest, "Your mischief is what got us two sons in the first place."

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, faking how appalled you felt while placing a hand over your heart as you glared up at him, "You came onto me, big guy!"

"Wrong. If I recall, I came inside you."

Your jaw drops, the room filled with silence other than the tiny, cute noises your sons made as they dreamed. You stared up at So'lek in shock, trying to replay his words in your head that left you baffled and speechless, rapidly blinking your eyes like it would somehow wake you from this dream. Did he actually just say that?

His grin is light and playful, making him look years younger, almost an entirely different man, "No one will ever believe you."

~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Swoon. That's all I gotta say.

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