#Shes got a knife to his neck and he says your beautiful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xxsugarbonesxx · 4 months

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Mi Valentín

Tags: full nelson, butt job, head (m receiving), fingering, hand job, groping, something about free use??? semi public sex porn WITH plot

no use of y/n afab!reader, reader has a fattie sorry but i don't make the rules 😮‍💨😔

TW!!! I am NOT a writer!! This is just something I do for funsies so don't expect much lol

She’s a beefy one so buckle up

Valentine's day is your absolute favorite holiday. A whole mushy gushy day dedicated to showing your significant other, or your friends or yourself to how much you love them and appreciate them. An excuse to dress up and go out, excessive chocolate consumption and give gifts. But, unfortunately, your beloved husband thought otherwise.

He never liked Valentine's Day, and he had thousands of excuses too. “Why is one day out of the whole year meant to show your love when I do it all year long?” Miguel said, rolling his eyes as he chopped vegetables for dinner. It’s not like he didn’t spoil you on Valentine's day, he always took you out to a nice restaurant for dinner and got you some gifts. But he was missing the whole entire point!

“Drop it amor, I’m plenty romantic as is. Remember when I took you out to that hotel and we spent the night away from the kids?” Miguel asked, his go to excuse when you brought this topic up. He turned to face you, one hand on the counter and the other holding the knife. He had an apron on, with ‘Milfin’ Ain’t Easy’ printed on the chest. You decided it was best not to question, said apron and moved on.

“But Miggy, it’s my favorite holiday. Can’t you not be so cynical for one in your life and humor that your wife enjoys something?” You said, crossing your arms under your chest. He just snorted and continued with his cooking, you scrunch your face and turn your heel, deciding you're not gonna give him the satisfaction of your presence, you leave to go find something to keep yourself occupied or just pout while you wait for dinner.

“You know it’s a dumb holiday, mi vida. It’s like how birthdays were invented by greeting card companies to make more money.” Miguel teased as he sat down in bed next to you after dinner.

You frown and roll on your side with your back facing him to let him know how upset you are with him. He sighed and chuckled, he cuddled up against you so he was big spooning you. He ran his calloused palm over your bare leg. “Don’t be like that, mamás. You know I love you, but I just can’t get behind a holiday that’s supposed to be about showing love since I already do that everyday for you,” He pouted, kissing your cheek and patting your butt.

You sighed and sat up, “Okay, you know what. You’re right, you already do so much for me. I guess it’s a little selfish to ask for more. I just get jealous sometimes, of all my girlfriends who always talk about their partners and how romantic their Valentine’s Day is…” You admitted, it sounded silly when you say it out loud. It embarrassed you, you have an amazing husband who gave you two beautiful daughters and here you are, ungrateful all because of FOMO.

“It’s alright, I know what you mean…but let’s not focus on that. I promised we’d never go to bed mad at each other. And we’ve had a long day, hmm? How about we get to sleep now? Since we’ve got a big week ahead of us,” Miguel asked, kissing your collarbone, he was such a smooth talker it drove you up the wall sometimes. But you nodded, kissing him back and curling up with him in bed.

Little did you know he’s been scheming.

One week ‘til V-day.

You let go of the whole Valentine’s Day thing, you were embarrassed about getting so worked up about the situation. You got home late from work, Miguel was already gone to watch Gabriela’s soccer practice and he took the baby with him. You had the whole house to yourself, you sat on the edge of the bed. Sighing as you take off your earrings and heels, you notice something on your nightstand.

You look to see a fuzzy little lion plushie with a fancy red ribbon tied around his neck. You smiled softly and picked it up, it was soft in your palms and smelt like strawberries.

It was obvious that it was from Miguel, you set it down on the bed and finished getting out of your work clothes. After a nice shower, you put on some cozy clothes and flop onto the bed. The house was clean and there were no chores to do so you got to relax, you sat in bed watching a movie with your new bed buddy. You hugged it to your chest, breathing in the strawberry scented mane.

Miguel came home with the girls a bit after your movie ended, Gabriela skipped into the house with her baby hairs stuck to her forehead from sweat and the remnants of chocolate ice cream on her cheeks. You usher her into the bathroom for her bath before finding Miguel. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on the tips of your toes to give him a quick kiss.

“What was that for?” He chuckled, his hand on the small of your back, the baby on his hip.

“Just a kiss, I saw that stuffy.” You smiled and shrugged, looking up at him through your lashes. “I love him, but you didn’t need to get me anything…”

“I know that, I just saw it when I was at the store and thought you’d like it sooo…” He said, his hand snaking up the small of your back to roll his fingers through your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Gracias guapo,” You coo, leaning into him for one more quick kiss before pulling away to give Gabriela her bath.

Five days ‘til V-day.

You and Gabriela sat at the kitchen table while Miguel was at work. With baby Esther on your lap, the three of you were hard at work making Miguel his Valentine’s Day present. Since he was always so low key for the holiday, you would do the same. Opting for something cuter and simple that also included the girls.

You already had a hand print of Miguel’s huge, paw-ish hand from an old craft Gabriela made when she was in kindey. You cut out a nice square of paper around the hand print, you carefully painted your own palm and fingers with a soft pink. You pressed your hand over his painted hand print.

Next was Gabriela, you painted her hand with a slightly darker pink color and pressed it over your hand print once it was dry. Then Esther when Gabriela’s handprint dried, you used a baby safe paint that was a darker pink color then Gabriela’s. You pressed the baby’s palm gently over her sisters. So it was papa Miguel’s big black hand print, your smaller light pink hand print, Gabriela’s little hand and then Esther’s teeny tiny hand.

It was perfect, a cute little card from all his girls for Valentines. You let Gabriela paint a couple pink hearts on it and sign it and it was perfect. You take it to write a lovey dovey message on the back and tuck it away in your nightstand once it was completely dry for the fourteenth.

Three days ‘til V-day.

You looked awful, you tripped in the snow as you hiked your work parking lot to get to your car in front of your boss. When you finally got up out of the slush, you got your hair caught in a branch. Tangling it with leaves and sticks, finally you got home.

You trudge up the driveway, it has been snowing and raining all day long. You hated the cold winter weather in Nueva York, you just had to wear heels today as you took big steps over the slush. You finally made it inside the warm apartment, taking a deep breath, your shoulders relaxed. The girls are in the living room watching Bluey with Miguel cooking in the kitchen. You kiss the girl's forehead hello and wobble deeper into the warm kitchen.

“Hey mamás, how—woof, what happened to you?” Miguel half laughed, pulling his oven mitts off his huge hands. Today he’s wearing a green apron with ‘Besame soy Irlandés’ printed on the chest.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You mumbled, brushing the leaves out of your hair. Your whole front is soaked, there was some sort of ice or snow in your bra and your makeup smeared from crying in your car.

“Oye, poor mami.” He cooed, wrapping his big arms around your waist and hugging you to his chest. He held you tight, kissing the side of your face.

He helped you untangle your hair and get out of your soaked clothes. He drew a warm bath with bath salts and bubbles, he washed your hair for you once you were in the water. His big calloused hands rubbing your shoulders as he pecked your cheek. His chest pressed against your back, his hand snaked down into the water in front of you. He peppered the side of your face with gentle kisses as he gently rubbed your core with his pointer and middle fingers. His wedding ring was cool against your inner thighs, his other hand cupped your left breast. Massaging it softly, his thumb grazing over your perked nipples.

His other hand cupped your sweet pussy, his fingers dipping in between your soft folds and pushing into your wet hole. “My poor girl, I’m sorry your day sucked.” He whispered into the shell of your ear, you bit down onto your bottom lip. Holding back whines as he gently begins to pump his fingers slowly, your hands find the edges of the bathtub to grip. Your head rolls back, your eyes shut as a little gasp escapes your soft lips. He smiled into the dip of your neck, still playing with your tits.

His surprisingly tender lips graze up over your neck for an open mouth kiss, catching your wines and huffs in his mouth. You feel his lips twitch into a little smirk, that smug bastard is always so proud of himself. He pulled away, you whined from the emptiness that filled your soft walls now that he took his fingers out, but you immediately perked up when you heard him take his belt off from the loops.

Miguel stood up and over to the side of the tub, he slipped his semi hard cock from his boxers. He looked down at you as he pumped his huge hand over his girth, he held you face with his other hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your bottom lip. His way of silently telling you to ‘open’.

You obediently part your pretty lips, he slapped his red tip onto your tongue. He was now fully hard, his cock was perfect. His member is a little darker than his brown skinned body, at least eight to eight and a half inches long. Maybe even ten on a really good day. It was girthy too, with a fat vein on the side of it, it curved up slightly, his groin perfectly shaven besides the happy trail over the base of his length. His balls were heavy, you took him in your mouth. Since he was so big, you always struggled to take him completely.

You manage to get a good four inches in and start to bob your head, you look up at him through your lashes. It hasn't even been in you long, but you were already cock drunk. He instinctively began to roll his hips into your jaw, the bathroom filled with lewd squelching, moans, and groans. You gag and your eyes roll back.

Just when things started to get good, the baby screeched downstairs in the living room. Miguel sighed and threw his head back dramatically, he pulled away and pulled his slacks back up

over his hips. You frown and pout, he chuckles and bends down to kiss your forehead. “Lo siento, mi corazón…” He muttered, pulling away to get back downstairs to make sure the girls didn’t kill each other.

You groan a little and sink a little deeper into the warm water.

One day ‘til V-day.

You had actually forgotten all about Valentine’s Day. The girls and work had made you forget all about it. You were sitting at your desk at work, typing and scribbling down notes for later when one of your colleagues told you that there was something at the front desk for you. Curious, you go to check on whatever goodie or package was delivered to you. You never get these sorts of things, you couldn't help but be excited as all the possibilities ran through your head. What the receptionist handed you was better than anything you could have imagined.

The front desk person handed you ramo buchon. One hundred pink and white roses were arranged and wrapped, surrounded by matching pink and white baby’s breath blooms tied together by a ribbon. A little white teddy bear with a ribbon and tag sat in the center of the buchon, the tag signed by your secret admirer. It didn’t take long to figure out who said secret admirer was, since it was Miguel’s handwriting.

You looked at the gorgeous flowers for the majority of your shift, making sure to send Miguel a little ‘I love you’ text to show your appreciation. Even though he played dumb when you got home, insisting that it wasn’t him and someone else must have sent it. He hugged you tight, muttering under his breath how he’s gonna teach that ‘son of a glitch’ a lesson for daring to make a move on his woman when he finds out who sent it to you. Though you could hear the smile in his voice.

“When I find them, I’ll teach them a lesson they soon won’t forget for thinking he can just make a move on my woman and get away with it.” Miguel scoffed, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ll kill him dead,” He said when you chuckled.

“You hear me, mariposa? There are some things as a man I simply cannot stand for. And when another man thinks he can have what's mine. And you are mine.” He continued, his forehead pressed against yours as he spoke. “My woman, my baby mama, mine mine mine.”

He repeated that mantra throughout the night, you curled up against him in bed. Him kissing your forehead with his hands rubbing your sides. Going up and down the dips and valleys of your body. You couldn’t help but smile, your face pressed against his neck. “My sweet mujer,” He sighed dreamily. Peppering your pretty face with gentle kisses.

“Did you like the buchon though?” He asked between smooches. You couldn’t help but giggle, squeezing your dear husband's hand gently and nodded. Your legs tangling with his, the blankets pulled up over to their shoulders. It was nice and cozy in their little blanket cocoon. Miguel needed a weighted blanket in the winters, that coupled with the fuzzy white tiger blanket on top of it made you both nice and warm.

“Sí, sí. Ellos tienen buen gusto,” You reassure him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. He looked satisfied with that answer.

Valentine’s Day.

You woke up snuggled up in the warm bed with Miguel. His alarm went off weirdly early, you blinked, your eyes crusty in the morning, yawning and stretching your arms over your head. Miguel stirred as you sat up, his hands over your lap, you arch your back to stretch. His almond eyes slowly opened and glanced up at you. He smiled into your waist but didn’t move, his morning wood pressing into your plush thigh.

You look down at his hidden face then down into his lap. You smile to yourself and lay back down next to him, your hand snaking down underneath the covers. Already thinking up so many naughty thoughts, tracing down his tummy, following his happy trail, your fingertips teasing the waistband of his sweatpants. He grunted a little as you gently began to stroke his length. You squeezed gently, creating a delicious pressure.

He finally ‘woke up’, grumbling into the crook of your neck. Rolling his hips back and forth into your hand. You chuckled, looking back over him. You press a little kiss to his nose, “good morning, quapo.” You purr into his ear. This was his favorite way of waking up, your hands on his body. Whether you stroked or sucked, his eyes rolled back and toes curled before waking.

“Good morning, mariposa, you slept well?” He muttered into your neck, his hand over your chest. He kneaded your pretty tits in his big hands and sighed dreamily.

“I did,” You answer, you roll your palm over his angry red tip. Pearly beads of pre cum dribble out of the head onto your hand. You scoop it up in your fingers, pulling your hand away to taste it. His cum was sweet with a bit of salty, you loved the feeling of his warm seed on your tongue. And he loved seeing you enjoy it, he watched your lap up his pre, a smug look on his handsome face as you swallowed.

Just when you reached to finish the job, he sat up. His erect cock twitching right in front of your face, you were mesmerized. Jesus, you were just a simp. “Gabri could just walk i-” You started, he was already reaching to lock your bedroom door. He grabbed you by your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. He reaches into his nightstand drawer to grab something. You look over your shoulder as he ripped your pajama shorts and panties off your body, making you giggle.

He drizzled massage oil on your bare ass, his calloused palms ran over your buttcheeks. You buried your face into the pillows, giggling like a giddy schoolgirl to yourself. He pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your shampoo, letting out a shuddering sigh, he sat back up on his knees behind you.

He dipped his ring and middle finger between your plush inner thighs, spreading the warm oil over your already wet pussy lips. You shiver but stay as still as possible for him, he bent over your pretty body. Pressing kisses onto your lower back. Muttering to himself as his fingers slip into your slits folds, your velvet walls clenching his long digits. You whine and cuss under your breath as he makes a scissoring motion with his fingers.

“Relax, mamás, can’t have you clenching my dick off.” He chuckled breathily in your ear, making you groan a little. You did your best not to clench on his fingers so hard, you rolled your shoulders and breathed deeply. Burying your face into the silky pillows, you whine as he begins to rock you by pumping his fingers into your weeping hole. Your breath shudders as his free hand down your back to asscheeks, squeezing gently and smacking to make you squeal.

“Oye,” You hiss, looking back at him over your shoulder, furrowing your eyebrows. He snickered like a kid and went back to pumping fingers. It didn’t take long till your orgasm, it never took Miguel too long to get you to cum. Your nectar pooled in his palm, he smirked proudly, licking

your cum off his hand. You whimper in shame, hiding your red face in the pillows. He chuckled cruelly before slapping his now fully erect member over your thick ass. You squeak as you watch his big hands grab the headboard above you and he begins to hump like a bitch in heat.

He sat on your calves on his knees, his thighs on either side of your hips. The massage oil acts as a lubricant for him to slide his fat cock between your buttcheeks easier. You whine into the pillows, your shoulders hunching and back arching.

You let out a soft moan as his shaft dragged over your holes over and over again, making you shiver in pleasure. He let out a soft, satisfied sigh as he took you from behind. You just knew that the smug bastard had a satisfied look plastered all over his face as he humped, spanked and slapped your poor, poor, red ass.

He grabbed and groped, before pulling off of you completely. Miguel took his shaft in his paw-ish hand, dragging his leaking tip to your weeping entrance.

“Miggy…” You whine, it's been too long since you’ve had him all to yourself. Whether it be your respective jobs, family and taking care of two kids under ten. You miss the feeling of him stretching you out, you miss the burn. You missed him making it hard for you to walk the next day, and him eating you out like a starved man, repeating the phrase ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over again as an apology as he palmed his dick.

You missed the burn and the after care and him making you breakfast for you afterwards. His cock slipped inside, not even three inches at first just to get you ready. His fingers stretched you out best he could, but he was getting impatient, and he needed to feel his pretty girl. His hands drifted off the headboard to either side of your head on the bed.

Sloooowly, he pushes deeper, you choke back all your noises. You look over at the nightstand on Miguel's side of the bed at the alarm clock, because you apparently married an old man. It was a little after five in the morning, he usually sets his alarm for six, that smug bastard set it early to squeeze a Valentines day quickie before work.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the plap plap plap of his hips hitting your ass and his tip kissing your cervix and the low creaks of your shared mattress. You slap your hand over your mouth, his big hands tighten around the sheets he was clenching. The massage oil and both of your sweat rolled off of eachother, pooling on the bed below you, but you’re too full to care. His length filled you up so good, that you couldn’t think to care about the fact you’re ruining your sheets.

“Yes…” You whine, your shaky hands clinging to the sheets as he pounds into you.

Miguel laid his body over yours as he slowly bucked into you, you almost preferred it when he was pounding into your poor, abused pussy since then he wasn’t torturing you with slow, agonizing strokes. His lips pressed into your ear, his eyes glazed over as he grunted and huffed into the shell of your ear, you loved how vocal he was. How he’d react to your body, how'd he moan and praise you.

His arm slithered under your neck, pressing you into a headlock as he rutted against your soft walls. His nose buried into your hair, breathing in your cocoa butter shampoo. He tightened his grip on you until your cheek was pressed up against his bicep, his sweat, musk and the remnants of his cologne from yesterday made you slick.

A knot formed in the pit of your belly, his pre mixed with the oils and your slick, coating the sheets with liquids. You really should have put a towel down…-

“So wet, you like that, don't you?" He growled, his voice deep and husky as he took you from behind. He couldn't resist, he couldn't fight it. He was under your control, he was yours to do with as you pleased. He always portrayed himself as the head of the household, el jefe, but it was a different story once the girls were in bed and the door was locked. He was still very much the dominant, though your pleasure was his priority. He wanted you to be pleased and happy with him above anything else.

“Mhm…feels, fuck, so good…” You mewl, your hips swaying side to side as he slowly rolled his hips into you, your warm walls clenching him. He pulled out until only his tip was in, before pounding back in. Your sweet nectar flowed from your core, you writhed and silently screamed into the pillows. Miguel kept rutting before quickly pulling out, his hot cum spilling down the small of your back.

He let out a satisfied sigh and flopped down on the bed next to you. The giant laid face down next to you, groaning.

“Jesus, you’re not that old.” You choke out after a minute of basking in each other's sweaty afterglow. “You’re fine,” You grumble, nudging his calf with your foot.

“I’m just warming down, gimme a minute.” He gruffed, tilting his head to stick his tongue out at you and scrunching his nose. “Bleh,”

“Oh my god, you’re just like Gabriela.” You snicker, rolling on your back to stretch, and looking over his body. Miguel was on his stomach, one of his long legs off the bed as he pressed his face into his pillow. You can’t help but look at him with disgust.

“You have a ridiculously nice ass for a man.” You pout.

“Don’t be jelly,” he scoffed playfully.

“Did Gabriela teach you that word?”

“What, ‘jelly’?” He asked and you nod. “Oh please, I’m well educated in the field of slang. I know about what the kids are saying, ‘on fleek’, ‘yeet’, ‘lit’, you name it. You married a very educated man, lucky you~”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that in literal years…”

“Who?”

“Hmm?”

“Asked.” He said proudly, you let out a groan. This was just middle school all over again.

“Okay, okay, I’m done now, mariposa. I promise.” Miguel giggled, grunting a little before rolling onto his back next to you. He snakes a big hand over you and pulls you atop of him.

“This is disgusting,”

“I didn’t even-!” “The sheets, and us. I should get in the shower…” You grumbled, he wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you back down to him as you sat up. Your cheek smushed up to his firm pecs.

“Two more minutes,” He promised, patting your sticky back.

You’ve been getting ready for what felt like hours, your makeup, shoes, hair, jewelry, clothes, accessories. Maybe you were spoiled…sat on the floor of your walk-in closet in nothing but your pretty lingerie, your arms crossed under your chest, you mull over your options for the perfect outfit for your and Miguel’s date tonight.

You check the time on your phone and sigh, deciding to take your chances with that one bodycon cami dress you got months ago. It was cute, I guess. You quickly finish getting ready, your finishing touch being a pretty little necklace with a pendant with the letter M engraved into it.

The girls were shipped off to your parents house for the night, it was just you two. He cooed and crooned over you, showering you with gifts and peppering your pretty face with kisses. Making your face a little red from his stubble brushing over your cheeks, he booked a nice restaurant nearby for the two of you and came back home for Valentine's Day sex.

After years of marriage and having kids, of course things would often fall into a routine. But after all his gifts and gushing, maybe things won't be so uniform tonight.

The dinner was fine…your alfredo pasta was good so far, and the wine was nice. But Miguel was acting strange ever since you woke him up. He's been red in the face and nervous, which was weird since he was usually so confident and outspoken.

He was complaining about the wine being expensive, you look up from your pasta to count his forehead creases.

“It’s like I have to hunt a waiter down for a bottle of wine, wine that's nearly two-hundred dollars. Ridiculous…” He grumbled, you can’t help but roll your eyes as he obnoxiously waved at a waiter.

“Miggy, please stop. You’re acting like my mother.” You mumble after he spoke to the waiter, you watch the poor twenty something year old disappear into the kitchen to get that bottle.

“Oh please, even I wouldn’t stoop that low.” Miguel scoffed, poking his food with the prongs of his fork like Gabriela did when she didn’t want to eat her dinner and she’d stall for sympathy. You tried making conversation, when that doesn’t really seem to work, something more devious appears in your smile as a sudden idea comes to mind.

Of course, you’d know how to get him to relax. You prided yourself with that, so you set your little plan to action. You make sure no one in the restaurant was looking in your general direction, you pick up your salad fork, a type fork you may have used twice in your life, and drop it on the fancy dark wood floors of the restaurant. Which, in turn, makes the most loud and annoying ‘ting’ sound, Miguel gives you a look as you freeze.

“Gosh, clumsy me~” You quickly reassess, making sure no one is looking, you duck to your knees to pick up the fork that somehow got almost completely under the table. It was one of those circular tables with a long red cloth draped on it to the floor. You sneak underneath without anyone suspecting a th-

“What are you doing?” Miguel calmly asks, though you can tell by his tone he’s the human equivalent to a donkey on the edge.

“I’m grabbing my fork,” You answer, though you have passed the fork, crawling on your hands and knees, you make a beeline to your manspreading husband. You rest your chin on the edge of the chair, pressing your soft lips for a fat kiss on his bulge. He jolts when you do, his hands flying to cover his crotch.

“A-amor!” Miguel yelped, his knees hitting the table. Making his wine glass fall, he quickly moved to pick it back up. Giving you just enough time to sloppily unbuckle his belt and pull his slacks down just enough to pull his semi-hard cock out, the table cloth covering his lap up. You smile to yourself before licking your palms to stroke him with both your hands.

Once he was completely hard in your soft hands, you took his tip in your mouth. Kitten licking it as you stroked with one hand and kneaded his balls with the other. He was trying (and failing) to mask his whimpers and squeaks by sipping his wine.

“So pretty~” You cooed, slapping his fat cock over your tongue. His pre dripped down his aching shaft from his slit, which you of course greedily lick up. Every noise Miguel made went straight to your sopping pussy, which you were grinding up and down his dress shoe. He grunted, how rude, you’re polishing his cock and shoes, and he dares to complain?

You take a solid four inches into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. You wish you could look at his pretty face as he groans and grunts, you nod your head, attempting to fit more into your mouth.

Relaxing your throat, you take a deep breath in through your nose and breath back out slowly before taking him all the way to his base. Your nose nestles into his trimmed pubic hair while your hands snake forward to dip back into his boxers to give his balls a squeeze. Your drool and his pre dripped from your soft lips and down his balls.

Miguel pressed his palm into his lips, his eyes squeezed shut. His free hand on the crown of your head, his fingers tangled with your hair as he guided you. His thighs shuddered, doing everything in his power to not moan loudly in a crowded restaurant on Valentines day. You try to bob your head but he keeps you down on his cock.

He huffed and his hips buckled to push deeper into you, you gag and tears roll down your cheeks. It only took a few more seconds as hot, white ropes shot down your throat and warmed your belly. You swallow quickly, your moans vibrate against him as you ride him through his orgasm.

Only when you hear that whimper do you finally slide off of him. Your lips leave the tip with a lewd pop. You give his cock a sweet little kiss, you dry your tears and climb back into your seat, placing your fork back on the table where it belongs with a satisfied smile. He wasn’t glaring anymore, he looks much more relaxed now…

Just from the look alone tells you that you’re in for it when you get home.

Before Miguel could say a thing, the waiter zips back over to the table to come check up on your dinner. He was about to leave when he paused.

“You’ve got some alfredo sauce on your lips, ma’am.” The waiter said, pointing to his own lips. You squeak out a quick ‘oh!’ and dab your lips with your napkin. Wiping off the ‘alfredo sauce’ as the waiter ran off to another table.

“Don’t,” You sighed, Miguel was smirking, resting his head on his palm. He was relaxed now, and was giggly from the alfredo sauce comment.

“I didn’t even say anything~ though you do look cute with alfredo sauce on your lip.” Miguel said sweetly, swirling his wine glass to watch the red liquid slosh in the cup before raising it to his lip to take a sip. His crimson eyes trained on you. Giving you a look that made your previously soaked panties soaking wet and sticking to your cunt.

“Though you are very much still in trouble.”

Your heel made you slip on the icy doorstep, Miguel’s hand on your waist hoisted you upright before you could fall into the snow. “Careful~” He tutted smugly, unlocking the door for you and you rushed inside the warm home.

Both you and Miguel had been drinking, you from the embarrassing alfredo sauce incident and Miguel because he was trying to loosen up. You’re both tipsy and stumbling into the kitchen, you go to the sink to pour yourself a big glass of water to sober up. Just as you gulp down the last sip, Miguel comes up behind you, his big, calloused hands resting on your shoulders, squeezing gently.

His soft lips find your jaw, he massages your shoulders. The wine made him tipsy and went straight to his dick. Your back pressed against his chest and stomach, your hands on the cool surface of the kitchen counter. Signing softly and nearly letting a moan slip as his hands travel down from your shoulders to rub your clothed breast.

You grip the counter, your shoulders going slack and your back involuntary arching. His thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, you feel his cock hardening from underneath his slacks as he slowly grinds on you. His lips still on your jaw, the tip of his tongue slipping from his lips to press against your soft skin.

Humping your plump ass and squeezing your plush tits was heaven to Miguel, the only thing missing was his cock buried deep into your gushing cunt.

Tipsy, he decided that’s what he needed, he wrapped a beefy arm around your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder.

“Miguel!” You squealed, kicking your feet as you slowly began to sober up. He didn’t say anything, just grunting and his hand falling from the small of your back to your butt, pinching the fat to tell you to quiet down. He carried you with ease up the stairs, down the hallway to your shared bedroom.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and flopped you down on your back onto the blankets and pillows. You landed back with a squeak of the mattress, your legs dangling off the edge as he straddled your his. His lips crashed into yours, his cheeks painted in a pink hue, his big hands ran up and down your sides

You parted your lips, catching your whines and huffs in his mouth as he pressed your beefy body into you. Trapping you to the bed with his hands, he leaned over you, his kisses searing as he held your wrists up over your head to keep you underneath him.

When he got tipsy, he wouldn’t be bothered by foreplay. He needed to get right to the good part, his kisses got hungrier and needier with every second that passed. His hands rubbed down your sides, sliding your dress off your body. His eyes wandered and quickly widening when he saw your lack of anything under your dress.

You went rogue on him, you ditched your lingerie in the restaurant bathroom, since your panties were soaked and uncomfortable, and because you too wanted to get to the main event as soon as possible~ He stripped and sat down on the edge of the bed with you on his lap in his favorite position, full nelson. Your legs bent up to fold you in half, your knees on either side of your head with his arms bending you back with his fingers locked with each other behind your neck. It was sort of uncomfortable, but the second he moved his hips, you forgot all about it.

He thrusted sloppily into you, you threw you back on his shoulder almost immediately as his tip practically kissed your womb the first thrust. He didn't stretch you out prior, the burn was enough to make you scream. His hips jutted up and down, your ass slapping down against his pelvis. Filling your bedroom with the sweat slaps of skin hitting skin and your lewd moans.

Your eyes flick up and cross, he’s been at it for hours it feels like when he actually just started.

“Please, Miggy,” You mewled in his ear. He ignored you, peering over your shoulder to watch your pretty titties bounce from how he was rocking you. Miguel looked angry, like he usually did during sex. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” he commanded in a harsh tone.

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more, slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down the best you could when you squished and bent into the position. You felt the knot in the pit of your tummy tightening as he speared into you, a ring of cream wrapped around the base of his angry, twitching cock.

All night long, the man fucked you like a fleshlight. Making you cry tears of pleasure and scream his name for all your neighbors to hear. Your knot snapped for what felt like the umpteenth time, your orgasm ripped through you in waves.

That didn’t stop him though, he’s fucking you like he’s trying to mold your gummy walls to fit his, and only his cock.

Painting your womb white with ribbons of hot cum for the sixth time, he finally let’s go. His hands slightly raised as if admitting defeat as his chest rose and fell. Sweat rolling down his body as you crawl onto the bed to try to cool down. He falls down on his stomach next to you on his side of the bed.

You poor thing have been put through the wringer, you’ve came too many times to count, been came in too many times to count, cried, screamed and moaned. Your throat and poor, slutty, pussy been played with and fucked ruthlessly. Your eyes are half lidded when Miguel rolled onto his side to face you.

“Amor…?” Miguel whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Hmm?”

“I need to admit something…I sent you the ramo buchon, even though I told you that your secret admirer sent it to you.” He admitted sheepishly, like he was an embarrassed kid owning up to taking a cookie. It made you chuckle sleepily.

“Yeah…I had a hunch,” You smiled, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He seems genuinely surprised you knew it was him.

“How…-you know what, never mind, mariposa. Happy Valentine's Day to the loveliest girl in the whole multiverse.” He smiled sweetly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Thank you, mi Valentín.”

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urlocalfeiner · 1 year

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can’t help falling in love | neteyam sully

paring: neteyam sully x fem! omaticaya! reader

¡based of the song ‘can’t help falling in love’ by elvis presley!

masterlist!

wise men say, only fools rush in. neteyam was always told growing up to never rush the process of finding the right one to mate with- but he knew he had already found the one he wished to mate with when he met you, it all clicked for neteyam like a switch was flicked in his mind.

neteyam tried to push the feelings he had for you to the back of his mind, tried to store them away never to be seen. but he can't help falling in love with you, as he watched you lay on the green grass admiring the stars above the two of you, pointing to the constellations in the dark sky. "nete, are you paying attention?" you snapped him out of the trance he was in that you unknowingly put him in. "yeah," it came out as more of a question than an answer.

neteyam sully followed the rules, it was just who he was- he was an organised person who had his whole life planned out. but as he stared at you with the soft glow of the forest illuminating your soft features that he swore were crafted by eywa herself, he found himself questioning his purpose in life. he always thought it was to be a mighty warrior and lead the clan, but know he wasn't soo sure because as he wrapped his strong arms around your figure- putting his face into the crook of your neck, obcorbing your scent with you softly tracing the patterns on his back- he felt as if this was his purpose, you. shall he stay? would it be a sin, if he can't help falling in love with you? neteyam slowly moved his head out of the crook of your neck, coming face to face with you. "you're so beautiful." he breathed out, pushing a bit of loose hair that fell in front of your face back behind your ears gently. "so, so beautiful." he leaned down slowly, placing a soft kiss upon your lips that lit a fire in you, that was sure to burn you at any given moment- but you did not mind if you got burnt by the fire that neteyam lit.

neteyam was with his mother, helping her prepare the food for the clan celebration- but he was barely helping, his focus was completely on you who was playing with tuk some ways away from where he and his mother sat. neytiri glanced up at her eldest son, who had a knife in hand about to cut the meat- but wasn't even looking at it- she studied his face, his gaze was filled with love as he stared at you. her face softened as she realised that he had found the one, she always knew of what he felt for you but she never thought it would grow to be so real. "you are a lovesick man, my boy." she spoke, grabbing a fruit- neteyam tore his gaze from you at his mothers words, "i can not help it, mother." he said earning a small chuckle from neytiri, you and neteyam reminded her of herself and jake when they were younger

“neteyam, hurry!- we are going to miss it!” you yelled behind you rushing to the top of the hallelujah motions to catch the beauty sight of eclipse falling over pandora. neteyam chuckled, following right behind you- keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. you reached the top of the floating mountain, pulling neteyam up by his hand quickly- dragging him along. you stopped suddenly, your eyes widening as a small smile crept on on your face at the beautiful radiant sky in front of you- breath swept away from you at the sight of the light slowly fading over pandora, disappearing slowly from the forest. “beautiful.” you breathed out, reaching out a hand to touch it- though you knew you would never be able to. neteyam glanced at the sky, while yes it was beautiful- but how could he ever focus on it when something far more beautiful was right beside him, you. “very.” he replied, admiring your blissful face. butterflies creeping up in his stomach as he stared at you. neteyam had never felt so entranced by another before he met you, and boy, was he glad he did- neteyam had become a lovesick fool, he had become what he never thought he ever would be. but how could he be a fool if he knew what he felt for you was pure and more real than any folks tail ever told.

as the light began to disappear and the stars began to shine in the sky you were still admiring it with the same light in your eyes. “my father came from that star,” he pointed up at the dark sky, towards a star that shone a bit brighter than the rest. you had heard of where jake sully had came from, your eye trying to follow where his finger pointed- not seeming to catch onto which one it was. he grabbed your hand gently that was by your side, bringing it up and pointed it to where he was- the touch igniting a million flames throughout yours and his body. “there,” he whispered into your ear, his body pressed up against your back. “it is so crazy to think we are not alone in the universe.” you thought out loud, neteyam humming in response as his hand guided yours back down- but his grasp on it never leaving- slowly wrapping his arm around your waist, hugging you from behind. his chin resting on your shoulder- slightly bending down a little to meet your healthy as he stood taller than you- and most na’vi too.

he guided you by your hand softly to the tree of voices, they say it is where prayers are heard and sometimes answered- he begged the great mother that his prayer would be heard and answered. the prayer to make you his and him yours. "nete, why are we here?" you whispered, admiring the gorgeous glow of the fallen vines of the tree- you turned to him slowly, meeting his gaze that was set on you and only you. he reached out his hands, grabbing yours softly intertwining it with his own. "y/n," your name left his lips like a prophecy, as if they were the only words he could ever speak. "take my hand, take my whole life too." your heartbeat began to fasten up at his words as he came closer to you, hands still entwined. "i wish to grow old with you, i want to spend all of eternity and all of what is after it with you. i want you to be the mother of my children, you have my whole heart y/n. you have turned me into a love sick fool, for i cannot help, falling in love with you." he placed a kiss on your snout lightly, "i wish for you to be my mate." he breathed out, your eyes locked with his. you had longed for him to speak those words ever since you met him, and now under the eye of eywa, upon all the ancestors that rested beneath the grove of trees, neteyam sully bore his heart out on his palms right in front of you for you to take and be yours until time itself ended. one of your hands left his, reaching up to cup his cheek- he leaned into your touch, putting his now free hand over your own that cupped his face gently. "i can't help falling in love with you, nete." neteyams pupils dilated at the confession leaving your lips, but it did not mere in comparison to what you were about to say. "i see you." he felt his knees go weak, neteyam swore he could've collapsed right then and there. "i see you, y/n." he brought the hand that was on his cheek down to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your palm. he reached behind his back, fingers grazing his queue that was protected with a thick braid- slowly bringing it in front of him, offering it to you. you didn't think twice about it, as he did your hand grabbed your braid bringing it next to his. the two of you slowly came down to the ground, knees resting on the soft ground. you met his eyes and softly nodded, bringing your queue that was swiftly swirling around as if it was being pulled to his own- then slowly tsaheylu, neteyams pupils dilated- he could feel every fiber in your being, your soul and heart. every emotion you were feeling, every short breath and he loved it. he loved it so much, nothing could have ever prepared him for this day where your souls became one- neteyam had been told of the feeling, but nothing matched to what he imagined it to be to what it actually was. his soul yearned for yours, it ached at night in the absence of your own- and now he could feel you, every inch of you- as you could him. he leaned in to you, kissing you passionately as you returned it. rubbing your noses against one another, breathing shortly at the euphoric feeling being shared between the two of you. his hand slid behind your lower back, pulling you closer to him. that night your two souls danced with one another, becoming one.

neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan knew that no matter what he did or said nothing would be able to stop him falling for you, he could not help falling in love with you- and he was did not mind doing so one bit. he was born to be with one with you.

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justaaveragereader · 5 months

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hi omfg i LOVE your work so much???????????? i wanna request a dommingi (mingi acts nice in front of everyone ykwim but is a complete devil with the reader) where he’s at an award show and he brings the reader along, but reader is laughing a little too hard with his friends, mingi shows her who she belongs to. throw in a little pocket knife action too (not so little action pls make sure he seems crazy like he threatens to kill her if she tries to fuck with his friends again)

can u tell i have issues

thx again :p

First of all lemme go cry in the corner before I greet you😭🖤, hello, hey, hiiiii🖤🖤! I’m so happy you love my work ahhhh😭!!! Thank you for reading and enjoying it! Listen…if you got issues that means I got stemming trauma bc the way I was absolutely in LOVEEEEE with this request, I made Mingi more deranged/yandere then I probably should have but I can’t help it😵‍💫I got so carried away🫠none I love more when writers write the members almost psychotic /deranged, almost like true villains …I hope you enjoy this one babes🖤!

—•—•——•—•——•—•——•—•——•—•——•—•—

I Own You

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Dom!Mingi, Yandere!Mingi, Sub!Reader, Name Calling, Degrading, Knife Play, Slight Skin Cutting (Nicking The Skin, Slight Paper Cut Type Cut, No Blood), Begging, Slight Primal Play, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Choking…If I Missed Anything👀👀..Lemme Know!

✍️Masterlist✍️

Swirling his drink around the ice clinked against the cool glass. His eyes never leave your laughing figure. Clutching your chest, eyes crinkling with each hardy laugh that leaves your mouth. He's known all the members for a couple years, never have they been this funny. This was the con to being an idol, you guys decided to not go public for the safety of yourself. Mingi could care less about his role as being an idol, yet you insisted on not going public nor wanting to shake the public eye, and possibly ruin the group. Yet the way you were laughing with the boys it couldn’t help but make his heart clench, were they the reason why you didn’t want to go public? Yes the boys knew you were an item, but to the public you looked like really good friends…well at least you did. Mingi looked like a love sick maniac.

His eyes cut sharper at you and the seven boys, shooting his drink down, the brown liquor giving him courage. Peeling himself off the bar counter top he makes his way towards you and the members. His long stride, the way his shoes click against the floor, he was on a mission. Your eyes flutter from laughing, you can make out almost every sound that’s happening in the room. Yet there is one sound in particular that catches your ears. The high pitch clicks of Mingis shoes. He makes his way towards the members and you, only to shoot you that fake smile he does, the cool air from him passing by breezes by you and the members. It feels like the world stills anytime he passes by, the draft leaves the lingering smell of his cologne. Your body riddles with goosebumps. You watch as his broad back makes it farther and farther away.

Stretching your neck to see where he’s going, the boys seem to be background noise at this rate. Almost like static, Mingi had you hooked on him like a drug. You were like a moth to the flame, the persona he puts on even for the members has everyone fooled. It even fooled you, which is how you fell into his trap. They say the devil was once the most beautifulest angel, and Mingis beauty did nothing but blind you.

Your body moves on auto pilot, not even bothering to tell the boys that you were going to go find Mingi. Your body just sways to where you can smell the faint scent of him. Bringing you into a dark hall, the air is so still it almost feels unreal. Your body litters with nerves, rubbing your upper arm, you whisper out Mingis name, sounding like a true stray sheep, calling for its shepherd. He can see you from a dimly lit hallway, you look lost, you look astray. You look tempting, yet while his cock hardens with want, his blood pressure rises because you were also the same person laughing way too hard at his members.

“You lost?” His raspy voice speaks up, echoing down the long and poorly light hallway. Your body does such a noticeable jump, he can’t help but smile, while his cock twitches slightly at the sight. Your head turns from side to side trying to figure out where his voice came from. You can hear the vibrations of his deep tone still ringing in your ears. Letting out a small whimper you call out for Mingi once more.

He starts laughing slowly, the sound just bouncing around the walls of the bare space. You look straight ahead, catching a glimpse of his teeth, his smile so big and teeth so bright, with the way the lights are dim he looks like a threat, almost like this isn’t the Mingi you know.

“Come over here.”

Thoughtlessly following his command, your legs move on autopilot. Your brain already feels like mush, his voice bouncing around in your ears, mixing with the scent of him. He’s addicting. He's propped up against a wall, looking down at you, while your eyes stare up at him like he’s got every answer in the world for you. His cool hand comes to brush your cheek bone, coming down to brush against your bottom lip, pulling it down with his thumb before his hand travels down to your throat, yanking your body closer to his, he’s got you almost completely off of the floor, your noses are brushing. You let out a small squeak at the sudden intrusion. His large hand is crushing your windpipe, even though you can barely make out his features you know there is a fire brewing behind his eyes.

“They must’ve been real fucking comedians to make you laugh as much as you did tonight.” He grits out, while he wasn’t physically spitting on you, it felt like he was spitting heat onto your skin. Letting out a choked out noise, he feels his cock twitch, trying his best not to let his eyes roll back with pleasure at the way your poor helpless face contorts in front of him. Your hand comes up to try and pry him off, yet he squeezes tighter. Tears streaming down your face, your nails dig into him.

Letting you go, your body slumps to the floor, your knees hitting the ground first, your hands grip the material of his pants. Your hand lightly brushes over his hard on. You are in a kneeling position, tears stream down your face. You plead with Mingi through choked sobs..

“Min-Mingi it wasn’t like th-that I sw-swear.” Throat raw with emotion and lack of oxygen from him choking you. There you went, his little helpless sheep. Letting out a tsk, Mingi, brushes his thumb across the top of your forehead.

“I treat you well don’t I? And this is how you treat me…”

The disappointment in his voice wraps around your heart and tugs on the strings of it. Your face deepening in a frown, the tears that were wetting his pants were no longer from the pain of him choking you, it was from the pain you caused him, the disappointment that you shed upon him. Your hands grip his pants in desperation. When you feel something cool brush against the temple of your head, your eyes slowly trailing up his chest. The cool steel is settled right against your temple, not daring to make a move. His mouth widens into that horrific smile. The smile that captures people, that smile that lures people in.

“Do I have to drill into your skull who you belong to? Who owns you?” He says, voice sweet as sugar. Your eyes widen even further, your cunt slickens, you're so far gone on this man you can’t help but contort yourself into what he wants. Your eyes shine, mouth opening and closing no sound coming out but a helpless whimper. The sound of that is enough to make his head roll back, palming your head with his other hand, shoving your face against his twitching cock, the small wet stain of pre cum mixing with your tears brushes against your face.

You nuzzle your face against him, making his cock twitch even harder at the new feeling. His mouth drops open, a quiet groan leaving him. The blade of the knife falters slightly, bringing him back to reality, gripping you by your elbow he snatches you up to your feet.

Turning you around quickly he shoves you chest first against the wall, bunching your dress up against your hips, undoing his belt, he shimmies his pants down on his thigh, thick cock springing free, just oozing with pre cum. The cool air on his cock makes him shiver. You let out a soft moan at him manhandling you, your mind clouded with love, while Mingis mind is clouded with lust.

The blade is on the front of your throat, while his other is on your shoulder, thumb brushing against your pulse, he can feel the quick pulsation pump through his thumb. He sticks his cock between your thighs, brushing against your clothed cunt.

“I’m going to use you how I see fit, do you understand me?” He whispers in your ears, his warm breath tickling your ear, the pulsation from his cock on your count has you whimpering, nodding your head you let out a deep breath trying to gather yourself.

The blade bites into your skin, making your body tense up. You choke out a small yes to him, which immediately follows him thrust his hips slowly, cock slickening from how wet you are getting with each second, one particular thrust makes you whimper loudly.

“Who was the funniest between them?”

Biting your lip, trying your best to keep quiet, your mind can’t even fully comprehend what he’s saying. Stopping his sudden thrusts he pulls back slightly, causing you out a small cry when you feel the cool air hit your sticky cunt, strings of arousal cling to the fabric as he hikes it down to your knees, sticking his cock back in between your thighs he gathers as much slick as he can before he starts to thrust between the lips of your cunt, before slamming his cock into your pussy.

“Don’t make me ask again.” He grits out, moving the blade, the cool steel sitting alongside the vein that runs in the side of your neck.

“None of them were as funny as you Min-Oh my god!” You yell out, hands trying to find the closest thing to grip, his hand grips the blade tighter, making it bite your skin, right on the verge of slicing it.

The sudden slamming of his hips, hike you up and down the wall, cries leave your throat, as the biting of the blade continues to rub against your skin, your cunt gets wetter and wetter by the second. The empty hallway fills with your moans, and the sound of wet skin on wet skin.

“Next time if you even think of cracking a smile at them, I’ll kill you.” He grits, toes clenching in his shoes, you’ve never been this wet before, it’s soaking his pants. Maybe you were just as deranged as he was.

“Or maybe I’ll kill them.” He whispers into your ear, his harsh thrusts making your brain mush, you can feel him brush over your cervix, the squelching noise from your cunt overrides every sound in the hallway, even your pathetic moans. His other hand comes down to your hip. Bringing you down on his cock when he thrusts back, aiding in the powerful strokes he’s delivering to you.

Moving the knife from your vein he holds it to the front of your throat, right above where an adam's apple would lie. The sharp end of the blade pokes your chin, making you moan loudly, with each powerful stroke he gives you, your chin brushes down lightly against the tip of the blade, scratching your skin. With one false move it could easily impale you.

“You hear your pussy talking to me?” He says through clenched teeth, the way your cunt is soaking him, so sloppily he’s so close to the edge.

“She’s telling me she’s sorry, she’s sucking me back in, it’s almost like she knows the boys can’t fuck you like I can, they can’t pleasure you like I do. They could never do half the shit I do.”

His words are like velvet in your ears, the degrading, dirty words flutter in your head like tiny butterflies. Loud whimpers are falling out of your mouth, you attempt to bring your hand up to your mouth trying your best to quiet down when Mingi digs the blade into your neck even harder, you are sure the blade has nicked your skin slightly. Causing you to let out a loud cry, your head knocks against the wall in front of you, crying out Mingis name like it’s a mantra while your orgasm crashes over you.

“Yeaaa, yeaaa that’s it momma, cum on my cock.” He gasps out, tossing his head back, hips speeding up, the tip of his cock crushing against your cervix, walls squeezing him tightly. Milking him for every last drop of cum. His hips jerk slightly trying to help you ride out your own orgasm, as he’s trying to ride out his own.

His body falls forward slightly crushing you against the wall, cock still buried deep into your cunt, knife still present against your throat. The tip of the cool blade is digging fully into your chin. His hot breath pants against your ear, you can feel his heart thump hard against your back. He nudges the blade against your chin, making it dig into your skin further, your head tilts up slightly, eyes looking to the side, catching his wicked smile.

“Remember who you belong to, because next time I won’t remind you. I’ll just show you.”

DO NOT REPOST.

#justaaveragereader ask #justaaveragereader request #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #dom! ateez smut #dom!mingi #song mingi smut #song mingi x reader #ateez yandere #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez imagine #ateez one shot #ateez scenarios

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crumbledcastle28 · 1 year

Text

Joel Miller: Why Can't I Breathe?

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Excerpt:

"You were a woman--a woman with a body, feelings, heart, and intellect way beyond his caliber. You were fiercely loyal to him, almost to a fault, never hesitating to stick both your neck and trusted knife out for him, but at the same time, you were kind. You had been so good to him, too good to him, and all the while looking like that.

As you ducked under the water once again, fully scrubbing your body of grime, he realized that you were nothing less than a belle, a seductress, a venus flytrap set just for him to fly into and crush into a million pieces, and he wanted it. He wanted you.

You were so goddamn beautiful, and you had been his this whole time, he was just too dumb and slow to realize it."

Warnings: minor finale spoilers, Joel gets harddd, bathing, references to nudity, guns, Ellie makes a cameo, descriptions of alcoholism, blood, knives, and Joel doesn't know what a feeling is.

A/N: Happy end of The Last of Us! Who can't wait for Season Two!? *salutes before falling backwards off bridge.* But seriously, thank you for all the love on Joel. I can't explain how much it means to me.

If you'd like to leave a like, ask, comment, or reblog, it would be very appreciated <3

Word Count: 1.5k

Pedro Masterlist

(gif credit to owner I cannot find your account for the life of me).

The first thing that hit the forest floor was your boots, bouncing off the swollen grass loud enough for him to hear. The next thing was your socks, based off of the slight grunt you gave when one got caught. Next was your jeans, indicated by the metal pull on the zipper of your crotch clanking down swiftly. You then paused with a huff.

"Are you sure about this?" you said from behind him.

He sighed. "Yes, for fuck's sake. You were just sayin' how badly you wanted a bath."

"Yeah but--" you sighed, frustrated. "What if somebody--or, something--comes along?"

He raised his riffle over his head in reply before settling it back in his lap, his fingers curved firmly around it, screaming try me. He was sitting on a rock, yes, but he was ready. His body always seemed to settle when he guarded you anyway. He tried not to think about that.

"You know what I mean, Joel," you replied. "My hearin' ain't what it used to be."

He hated the smirk that always managed to wriggle its way onto his face when you mocked the depth of his voice and the thickness of his accent, but in reality, it had been the first time he had smiled in a while. All he could do was shake his head in reply, his typical indicator of you win this round.

You sighed again, the running water of the stream behind you filling the air, before saying, "I'm just worried about her."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the girl curled up in the cave ten feet away from him was the "her" you were referring to. She had been different, distant, quiet. Adjectives that had never suited her before, but after whatever the hell went down after Joel woke up, they all seemed to describe her perfectly. Her chest rose up and down in an even rhythm, indicating to Joel that she was long gone, but he understood you nonetheless.

"I know," he said in reply, a drop of unease in his voice, "but I've got her."

You took a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and out your mouth, before the scratch of cloth a shirt makes when it's removed filled his ears instead. "I'll be quick. Get me if she needs me."

"I will," he responded, "but take your time. Please."

He knew why he was delaying bringing her to the Fireflies, and he knew that you knew why he was delaying bringing her to the Fireflies, but like many things between the two of you, it remained unspoken.

"Alright," you said, and dropped two more pieces of cloth onto your pile before stepping away, down into the stream. Joel had never seen one quite like it. All the water flowed from a great waterfall at the end, the perfect place to rinse off after miles of hiking in a humid forest, and Joel saw in your eye how badly you wanted to wash it all away. He stopped the three of you and proposed an early dinner--rabbit, water, and chef boyardee--and Ellie passed out soon after, leaving Joel here, keeping watch for the both of you.

He would never admit how much he likes it--watching you both, keeping you safe, protecting his girls. It was something primal, but also something broken, desperate to be glued back together again.

You could recognize that in him, that need, but you weren't much different from him. Twenty years in an apocalypse, constantly watching your six, always on edge. You two were one in the same in that regard, so when your need for control would bubble up to your irises, he would gladly take the night to rest.

Unspoken, yet so not.

He didn't know when the two of you got so good at it, reading each other. Maybe it was back in Boston, the night you two made your first job together, or the night he blacked out from too much booze, only to find himself in bed under a blanket the next morning. He still didn't know how you managed that one. Maybe it was when he got cut clean through the knee, or when you got one through the shoulder, or when he finally explained what the scar on his face was from, or who the scar on his heart was from, or--

Suddenly, the whoosh of a large splash hit his ear, along with the gurgle of air bubbles, and modesty be damned, he turned around. His riffle was immediately pointed down at the water, ready to fire at will, or he would dive the hell down there.

Except, what exited the water was no infected, no raider, no hunter, and no slaver. No, it was you. Hair flattened by the stream, back dripping with droplets of water, tracing the line your spine made down your back. Your head tilted back in relief, free from the prison of sweat and heat, and your shoulders flexed downward, highlighting that fucking line down your back once again. The setting sun illuminated you, basking you in an aura of orange, as you walked underneath the waterfall. The water soaked through your hair and down your body, causing you to lift up your arms to work your hair away from your face and massage your jaw with your nails. Your waist was that much more accentuated, your throat was revealed just so, and the outline of your breasts taunted him against the stone of the stream.

He could feel his eyes dilate, his jaw go slightly slack, his gun practically slip through his fingers, and buttons on the crotch of his jeans pull slightly tauter than they were a few seconds ago.

He couldn't feel his face, he couldn't hear the water flowing, and he couldn't fucking breathe.

Why can't I breathe?

You had always been a looker, he had no doubt about that--constantly getting looks from men on the streets, offered drinks at bars, and invitations for more than that--but he never viewed you that way.

At least, that's what he told himself when he woke up from dreams about you, covered in sweat.

He liked to think that he admired you, respected you. He knew how little of that you got in Boston, and in his own fucked up ways, he tried to show you that you deserved to be. You were more than just tits and eyes, you were capable, honorable, and a fucking badass when you wanted to be. You went through with a hell of a lot more jobs than he did, coming home with stacks of ration cards higher than the expanse of his hands, only to bring them home to his sorry ass. You could make a clean kill, barely batting an eye, and mere seconds later, help Ellie to her feet, and tell her she was okay. You were beautiful, yes, but he thought he saw that more as admiration, respect, and caring for the woman who had always stuck by his side.

But it was more than that. It had always been more than that.

You were a woman--a woman with a body, feelings, heart, and intellect way beyond his caliber. You were fiercely loyal to him, almost to a fault, never hesitating to stick both your neck and trusted knife out for him, but at the same time, you were kind. You had been so good to him, too good to him, and all the while looking like that.

You were so goddamn beautiful, and you had been his this whole time, he was just too dumb and slow to realize it.

The smirk that had formed from earlier had slowly become a smile as he let his eyes slide up and down your body, filled to the brim with emotion and longing, and just as he felt a tear begin to dribble down his cheek at the sight of the woman before him, you turned around, and Joel's stomach instantly fell out of his ass.

He turned on his heel faster than he ever had in his life, wiping at his eye and sniffling, and standing straighter than a soldier.

Of course, you noticed.

"Everything alright?" you shouted from the water below, and with as much dignity as he could muster, Joel responded with a cracked, "yep."

Nothing was, yet everything was.

"I'm almost done," you responded, ducking under the water. You let your mask crack underneath the waves--the smile on your face, the squeal of excitement, and the happiness in your heart.

He was looking at you.

Once again, your mutual understanding remained unspoken, only this time, you had a feeling it wouldn't be for long.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @untitledarea @avengersfan25 @lexloon @aninnai @darling-murdock

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danishpastri · 1 year

Text

Happy Valentine’s

BTD/TPOF As Your Valentine

Strade

He’s surprised at first. You got him chocolates? Where did you even get them? The collar on your neck made it so you couldn’t leave, and you didn’t know your address.

He shrugs it off and starts eating the chocolates immediately. He almost didn’t see the note next to the heart-shaped box, but when he finally reads it.

He smiles, “Ah… I’m going to wreck them later.” He hums as he eats with his mouth full of chocolate.

“Ooh, this one’s filled with caramel.”

Lawrence

He’s starstruck

“H-Huh? Valentine’s Day? Uhm… thank you. I didn’t get you something though. I-Is that okay?”

He’s all red and nervous, constantly fighting with his hands as he stares down at the chocolates. He doesn’t want to eat them. They were a gift from you, and it would feel wrong to eat.

So he doesn’t… he never opens the box and lets it become a decoration piece, letting it rest up against a wall.

You make a reminder to yourself to just give him a card next year.

Ren

He’s so excited. He got you chocolates as well, fox themed.

He has a whole date planned with you. Movie time together is always fun with him, but he actually chose a romance movie to watch instead of the usual gore.

It’s a special day, one where you two can be together for as long as possible.

He’s also definitely going to give you head.

He’s between your legs with a knife against your skin, and he’s carving a heart into your upper thigh.

Rire

“Oh? You know, I have heard of a Valentine’s gift before, but I never thought I’d actually receive one.”

He’s gives you a small kiss. “I’ll make sure to keep this for as long as I live, darling.”

You and him then proceed to have a long night filled with red wine, a fine dinner, and love making.

You wake up the next day with bruises and bite marks littering your shoulders, back, thighs, and arms.

Sano

He got you flowers, roses with thorns. He gets down on one knee to give them to you.

He’s quite romantic, taking you out for dinner at a restaurant.

He bought you an outfit as well as one for himself. He wanted both of you to look as dashing as possible while you ate.

He’s holding your hand while you eat, making it quite hard to cut your steak.

Once you two reach home, you take a shower together then go to sleep.

But who says there weren’t naughty times occurring during that shower

Vincent

He’s astonished. He finds you laying in bed with new lingerie that he didn’t know you bought.

You don’t go on a date or anything fancy.

Just countless hours of breeding until all of your holes are leaking.

He does give you tons of aftercare, giving you a hot bath afterwards while he rubs you up and down with a towel.

Cain

He’s going to make you the nicest steak dinner in the whole world.

He’ll eat you out afterwards too. He gets two nice meals that day >;p

Lots of romantic shit. He gets in with you in your bathtub, makes you food, makes love to you.

All the romantic date cliches

Derek

You gave him chocolates? He’s not too grateful. You give him flowers? He doesn’t care.

“Oh? It’s Valentine’s Day? I didn’t know. Whoops, guess you aren’t getting anything ‘till next year.”

He doesn’t really care about the holiday, but he’ll still fuck you (he already does that practically every day though).

Celia

Just like Sano, she’ll take you out for dinner. She’ll wear a beautiful dress while she does; it’s black with velvet material, and it doesn’t show much skin.

She’ll bring you home afterwards and gladly sit on your face.

You shower with her after making love, and you both can’t stop touching each other.

You fall asleep naked while in each other’s arms and smiles on your faces

Mason

“Darlin? I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was today. I, uh… was planning to give you this on your birthday though.”

He hands you a wood-carved heart; although it’s not cute and stylistic. It’s an atomically accurate replica of a real heart but made out of wood.

He’s trying hard to be romantic. Just give him time. He’s used to only having murder on the mind.

You two will get chairs and sit by the lake, watching the sunset go down together as you hold hands and talk about your days.

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augustinewrites · 1 year

Text

it’s the middle of summer, it’s way too hot, and it’s his one day off, but atsumu’s dragged himself into the heart of downtown osaka for this.

“let me get those for ya.”

he takes the bags of rice from your arms, hoping you notice the way his biceps flex when he grabs the second bag from kita’s truck with little effort.

“oh, thank you. i’ll grab the door for you,” you offer, wiping your hands on your apron and pulling the back door open.

he thanks you with a nod and a bright smile, leaving you outside to sign for the delivery.

“hey,” he greets the manager as he passes the small back office. “where do you want these?”

osamu glances up from his laptop, pausing to do a double take. “uh, just set them down in the pantry— wait,” he’s about to go do that before his brother stops him. “so you’re just…helping? unprompted?”

“yeah? sometimes my heart’s just so big i can’t stand it.”

his twin leans back in his seat and looks at him. really looks at him, in the way that their ma would when she knew they were lying. “only when you want something.”

the back door swings open, atsumu diverting his full attention to you once more. “i just sweet talked kita into waiving the delivery fee again this month.”

“that’s my girl,” he grins, lifting his hand. you roll your eyes and call him cheesy under your breath, but indulge him with a crisp high-five anyway.

his heart swells in his chest when you look up at him. and oh man, you look good. with your gorgeous eyes and even prettier—

“atsumu?”

“yeah?” he blinks.

“i’ve got work to do…”

atsumu, not quite understanding, follows your gaze to where his hand is clutching yours. he hadn’t even realized…

he drops your hand immediately, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “oh, right. sorry. it’s just not that often that i get to work side-by-side with someone as pretty as you.”

“wow. was that meant to be a line?” you ask.

“depends,” he shrugs, leaning just the slightest bit closer. “did it work?”

you lean your hip against the counter, staring up at him. “what is going on with you?”

“nothing.”

“really? because you’re being very cute today.”

“what are you talking about? i’m cute everyday,” he states like it’s a fact, tying an apron around his waist. “unrelated…have i told you how beautiful you are today?”

“not since this morning,” you quip, your smile growing as you begin pulling ingredients from the pantry. “why? are you trying to butter me up for something?”

“well…” he starts, drawing a deep breath. “i was going to see if you wanted to get lunch today. on me, of course.”

you set your knife down, turning to face him. “are you insinuating that i can be bought?”

he hesitates at that, his heart practically falling out of his asshole. “i– i mean we can split it if that makes you feel better.”

“atsumu?”

“yeah?”

“i was kidding, of course we can get lunch together,” you assure him, patting his arm as you step around him. “let me just finish prepping for tonight, then we can go.”

once you’ve stepped out of the kitchen, atsumu turns to face his twin, who’s watching from the office. “just say it, ya scrub.”

osamu doesn’t pull his punches, shaking his head slightly. “so that’s what you wanted.”

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq drabbles #holy crap i haven't written atsumu since forever

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Note

Hello🌹I hope you write this time for the phantom troupe + and the beautiful lady hwr

https://ddarker-dreams.tumblr.com/post/720956454749749248/do-you-have-any-hcs-of-what-the-yan-genshin-boys

I really enjoyed reading the post❤️

wahh thank you thank you 💖 i'll go ahead and write the phantom troupe's version in the same format, on a spectrum from best to worst.

best

pakunoda's fondness for you is plainly evident when your period rolls around. while she can be stern when the situation calls for it, she strikes a 'healthy' balance between earning your fear and adoration. she has a no-nonsense policy but her expectations aren't the worst, you get the sense she means it when she says she'd prefer to be sweet on you. as such, you both have this mutual understanding that lets you go out and about more than most darlings. you're thoroughly pampered through the worst of your period. she takes you to brunch, a private room for mani-pedis, to your favorite café, then back home where you both eat takeout in silk robes.

machi would wait until you take the initiative to ask for certain things (besides the obvious) so as not to overwhelm you. there's that, and she gets flustered at the thought of doting on you so obviously. will give a nod when you request certain snacks or whatever but gives no signifier she'll actually follow through. you just open the cupboard and see everything you asked for there. the few things you do around the house to retain a semblance of normalcy are taken over by her so you can take it easy. considering her cold demeanor, you might think she'd expect to you tough it out, but that isn't the case. she thinks the difference in your pain tolerance is kinda cute and won't belittle you for taking medication.

poor phinks goes from treating you like a porcelain doll to acting like you'll literally flatline if exposed to the mildest stressors, his overprotectiveness ramps up exponentially. he absolutely abhors seeing you in pain and feels so useless if your cramps have knocked you down for the count. this would be your most opportune time to attempt some manipulation if you feel up to it. exaggerating the symptoms, getting him to go on more errands than he has to.... he comes terribly close to snapping a pharmacist's neck for insisting the medication you asked for doesn't exist. you can be a little mischievous as a treat. however, he will catch on eventually if you push your luck too much. proceed wisely.

HWR reader/anastasia is one of those types who knows your period is coming up before you do. she doesn't trust those apps and calculates it herself for better accuracy. she's an absolute stickler for your health, reminding you how much water you need to drink before the day ends, 'gently' insisting when you should go to bed/wake up, and ensuring your nutritious needs are met. the woman's crazy. if you wryly comment she should become a doctor, the joke will go over her head, and she'll say that if that's what you want, she can certainly get her M.D. will actually do so if you don't tell her you were kidding. there are medical textbooks on the countertop the next day. the good news is that you're physically the healthiest you've ever been... mentally, though, is anyone's guess.

chrollo isn't awful in the material sense — you have everything you need and he won't make you beg for it or anything. (he has considered the idea, only to decide against it). it's more so that he keeps testing you. or maybe he's operating at his usual annoying levels, but with your hormones jumping ship, your patience is at suboptimal levels. witnessing him enter the room is almost enough for you to see red. if he senses the growing irritation on your part, he makes no mention of it. chrollo thinks you're absolutely precious, sitting over there in your comfy pajamas and stabbing the tasty meal he got you with a fork, wanting to complain but having no material to do so with. there's a chance he'll pinch your cheeks when your knife's out of reach.

feitan is, unsurprisingly, weird. he doesn't track your period but somehow always knows the second it starts. he's... a bit more delicate with you, in his own way. he'll try not to keep you up with the shrieks of victims since you need proper sleep, and stocks the fridge with some fresh produce instead of just premade meals. if anything gets on your sheets, he'll tell you he's good at cleaning bloodstains. in his mind, he's making a joke to lighten the mood, but from your perspective, it's rather unnerving. as knowledgeable as he is about the human body, he never attended a health class, so his knowledge of menstruation is mostly secondhand. he follows you around more than usual because he thinks the blood loss might make you pass out, since that's how it normally works. please don't correct him on this because he hates feeling embarrassed.

shalnark somehow becomes infinitely worse in this time when you're not at your best. which says a lot, because he's already grating to begin with. you didn't realize there was another layer you hadn't been exposed to yet. he's this pathogen that continues mutating whenever you think you've built up a resistance. he'll loudly complain that you're being ungrateful if you wordlessly grab the hygiene products from him, instead of acting like he braved hades as orpheus did to rescue eurydice. his position remains unmoved even if you dryly remind him he literally only walked three minutes to a convenience store. he's a bit disappointed you aren't more cuddly and needy, but makes up for it by entertaining himself with your volatile reactions.

worst

#the ranking probably isn't surprising but i tried to be somewhat distinct with my reasoning GJNER #pakunoda x reader #machi x reader #phinks x reader #shalnark x reader #feitan x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere pakunoda x reader #yandere machi x reader #yandere phinks x reader #yandere feitan x reader #yandere shalnark x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #phantom troupe x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #answered #Anonymous

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rafedaddy01 · 6 months

Note

a plot where the reader is dating rafe and they are both psychotic😋

Two Crazy’s Make A Right

A/N: this is very dark and I’m sorry if it’s disturbing for some of you but once I started writing the ideas just kept flowing. I hope this is psychotic enough for you.

You and Rafe were an inseparable couple. No matter where you were you were always together, no one ever saw you apart. And you were the perfect couple out in public. Holding hands, kissing, hugging, going on romantic dates. But behind closed doors you had dark secrets.

“Whose tonight’s victim?” Rafe asked as he hugged your waist and stared out into the crowd of the restaurant. You were out on one of your weekly dates, on the other side of town where nobody knew you. “That blonde looks pretty good” you nodded towards the bar where a tall blonde sat in a black dress, she looked like she had just been stood up which made her the perfect person for tonight’s activity. “As you wish” Rafe pressed a kiss to your temple and fixed his tie as he walked over to her. He took the empty seat next to her and they started talking. An hour into the night everything was going according to plan.

You sat at a booth not to far away, but discreet, and watched your boyfriend flirt with the poor women before he looked at you and winked. The women stood and Rafe followed with a hand on the small of her back. He led the two of them out of the restaurant and into the car where you would already be waiting. You sat in the back seat twirling the tip of the sharp knife on your fingertip and a trickle of blood dripped down your finger which you sucked like a lollipop, relinquishing in the coppery taste. As Rafe and the woman approached you ducked behind the passenger seat and waited for them to get in the car. Rafe opened the door for her and she got in as he walked around to the drivers side.

Rafe started the car and that was your que. you plunged forward and pressed the knife into the women’s throat. Not enough pressure to cut her, yet, but enough to keep her still. “Hello beautiful” you sing-songed as she tried wiggling free, but that only made you press harder and nick her skin. The red crimson dripped down her cleavage and Rafe collected it on his finger before bringing it to your mouth. You sucked on the digit and moaned

“Mmm, this one’s sweet” you said in a crazy voice as Rafe leaned in and kissed you, licking some remaining blood off your lower lip, “very” he said in agreement. “P-please. L-let me go, I swear I won’t say a word” the blonde stuttered as tears welled in her eyes. You and Rafe both laughed at her pleas. “Sweetheart, you know we can’t do that” Rafe said in an oddly soothing voice as he rubbed her cheek.

The blonde was sobbing at this point as you started slowly slicing the skin on her neck. Blood spurted from her throat and she gagged on her own blood as Rafe watched with amusement in his eyes. Soon after the blonde laid dead in the passenger seat and you and Rafe were in the back. “Your so fucking sexy when your taking a life, baby” he said as he kissed you hard. You moaned against his lips as he deepened the kiss. He hiked up your dress and tore your tights as his lips moved to your neck, sucking hickeys. Your head dipped back to give him more room.

“Next time I wanna do the killing, deal?” Rafe asked as his fingers found your clit and rubbed circles. “Yes!” You said in a moan. “Good girl” he continued his attack on your neck while his free hand unbuckled his dress pants and pulled his hard erection out. With one swift motion he plunged inside of you and you both moaned in unison. “Fuck, rafe” you arched your back as much as you could and he began thrusting faster. His cock moved at a quick pace inside of you, all the ridges and veins hitting the right spots and making you see stars.

“Shit, baby. What did I ever do to deserve someone like you. Your just as crazy as me and I love it” he slammed into you and brought the both of you to your releases. He panted breathlessly over you as the two of you came down from your orgasms. “I love you” he said leaning down to kiss you. “I love you” you said before pulling his bottom lip and biting it until a drop of blood dripped out, which of course, you licked clean. “Enough lovey dovey.”

You sat up to get yourself re-dressed. “We need to take care of our friend over here” you reminded Rafe. You both got dressed and drove deep into the woods where you followed the same routine every time. Burning the body and disposing of the ashes into the lake. As the two of you stood on the sand, Rafe hugging you from behind, you looked like that perfect couple that goes on perfect dates and holds hands in public. Anyone who drove by would just see a normal couple on a romantic date by the beach, but in reality there was a darker truth to that.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing

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taintandviolent · 27 days

Text

Thrill of the Rush ; James March x reader

summary: Reader is a murderer, coquettish and demure in nature. She brings a man to the Hotel Cortez, and it ends how it always ends for them. The only difference, is that James March is watching her and is enamoured.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.6k! | serial killer!reader, graphic descriptions of murder, violence, blood and gore, descriptions of smut, cunnilingus, arousal, kissing/making out.

a/n: requested by anonymous and inspired by Lana Del Rey's Serial Killer song! hopefully this isn't too clunky, or boring in anyway! proofread very briefly, if you see any mistakes, no you didn't.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you'd like to be notified of future fics!

Elvis’s voice drifted from your speaker. The hotel room was cool, a stark contrast to the hot LA summer outside. The room itself was outdated in decor and architecture, something that you found charming – you’d chosen it specifically for its gorgeous, untouched art deco style. Stephen protested, saying it was rundown and dingy. You shushed him with a single manicured finger and led him inside, heading straight for the hotel desk.

He was a man. A stupid, hungry man who could only think with one head at a time. So, it didn’t take much for you to get up to the hotel room, and onto the bed. You’d let the strap of your dress fall off your creamy soft shoulder, coaxing him closer to you.

He nuzzled his lips into your breast, tugging softly at the skin. He muttered something into your skin, something grotesque, and you didn’t hear him. You were too busy listening to the thud of your own heartbeat – your own excited little heartbeat. You reached into your purse, which had been laying next to you, to retrieve the knife. It was a beautiful thing; pink pearlescent inlay on the handle, and a long, shimmery silver blade.

Raising it high above his head, your elegant fingers gripped the rosy hilt of your knife, and using all your strength, stabbed it into the side of the man's neck. The blade sliced through his skin like butter, giving no resistance. There was nothing like the sensation of killing – it never failed in making your eyes glisten, a cruel fire burning bright within them. Your chest fluttered with excited little breaths, rushing out over your pouting, pink lips in tiny gusts. The thrill, the rush, it was unlike anything you’d ever experienced – even sex. No man had ever made you feel the way killing him did. You twisted the knife slightly.

In response, he gurgled; a delightful sound that had you giggling. You had angled the knife just right, plunging it deep before yanking it out quickly. The blood spurted out in a warm geyser over your hand, trailing down your wrist in crimson ribbons. His hand flew to his neck, pitifully trying to stop the flowing river. You slapped his hand away softly.

"Pl-please..." He murmured, as his body started to droop away from yours.

You bent over, kissing the man on the forehead. As darling as you had been before, maybe even more so then. “Oh, baby…” you whispered, cloyingly sweet and soft like a summer day. He knew that he was going to die, and the begging was futile. Still, he persisted, wet and coughing between each plea.

You pushed him off of your breast, and more blood squirted out, the arteries pumping it out with each beat of his heart. James' dark pupils widened, watching as you worked. He hadn’t made himself known yet, and wouldn’t until you were finished. Nothing should interrupt this delicious display of cruelty.

“Tell me you love me,” you whispered. “Tell me I’m the sweetest girl you’ve ever seen.” He didn’t. He didn’t say anything else… and he never would again.

“Hmph.” Frustrated, you got off the bed, and smoothed your hands over your hips; the satin of your slip dress was warm and soft and provided no friction.

"Seems you've got yourself between a rock and hard place, my dear."

You spun around. In front of you stood a dashing man, dressed to the nines and resting some of his weight on a cane. He was handsome, but possessed a coldness that drew you in. He wasn't like the others.

"How did you get in here?!"

"The door was..." He turned to look at it, casually. "Open."

"No..." You shook your head, soft curls bouncing. Your tone was coy, knowing. "No, it wasn't."

"Ah," he said, tightening his lips into a sly smile. Had his heart been beating, it would’ve quickened at your darling little response. You were quick; a trait that he enjoyed and very rarely saw.

"He deserved it, you know." You looked at the man on the bed with a disproving sourness in your gaze. His body had slumped over the side of the mattress, blood streamed from the gash in his neck to his hairline, staining it red.

"I don't doubt that." He inhaled, stepping further into your room. "However... The problem remains of what to do with him. I presume you’ve yet to figure that out." His voice had your knees weak, turning the tendons to jell-o every time he spoke. It was so deep and croony, like molasses if it had a voice.

"No," you trilled. "No, but you seem like you do."

"I do," he started. There you went with your quick-witted confidence again. "You see, I have built this hotel to satisfy... my every need and whim, whatever they may be. I have a way to dispose of him for you."

Your hand lifted to your shoulder, your finger winding a lock of hair around it. You pursed your lips, as though you were considering his offer. The truth was, you’d already made up your mind. He was dangerous, unafraid, but interested in you. A refreshing change from the rest of the men that you courted and ultimately killed. Besides, he was right. You had a corpse in the room and were unsure what to do with it, besides leaving it and requesting another room, claiming something trivial like the hot water not working.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask, running your tongue along the bottom of your teeth, before coming to rest in the corner of your mouth. "You don't even know me."

"I don't, my little buttercup, this is fact, but what I do know of you, I crave."

Your knees wobbled. Somehow, he’d captivated you. You were never taken by men; they were useless, dumb playthings that you disposed of as soon as you got bored with them. You were never the one that was wrapped around a finger, it was always the other way around. But something… something about this man and the sick, nasty glimmer in his pitch-black eyes had you shivering.

“James March,” he declared proudly, before offering his hand. You placed your own atop his palm, and he leaned down, pressing his lips softly against your knuckles. Your lips tensed, withholding a whimper.

All at once, he closed in the distance between the two of you. Exactly what you wanted him to do, and without asking. You gasped, looking up into his soulless gaze. “Hold me,” you whispered. “Please.”

With a single nod, he enclosed you in a frighteningly firm grasp. You weren’t going anywhere – not that you wanted to.

“I don’t know what you do… or what you’ve done…” you whispered, feeling light in his arms. He held you like old movie stars held their beloved; arms wrapped passionately around the waist, holding you tight at the hip. James waited, on bated breath, for you to finish your sentence. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes, and pressed your soft lips against his. They were cool, and immediately surrendered to yours, parting to exhale into your mouth. As his breath filled your lungs, you succumbed to every feeling he was pulling from you; your legs quivered and pressed together tightly. Your core tightened, and your cunt clenched with arousal. Slick leaked into the silk of your underwear, staining the fabric with your submissiveness.

His head tilted, allowing him to go deeper inside your mouth. His tongue slipped along yours, twirling and exploring the soft, slippery flesh of your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, James walked you backwards, guiding you towards the bed. His shin knocked into the corpse’s head, which lolled lifelessly.

You were at his mercy, and gasping for air, broke the kiss to look down at your feet. Stephen’s eyes were glazed over now, void of life. He had paled, the crimson stark against his bloodless skin. A puddle had settled beneath his head, seeping into the carpet. You broke away from James and bent down, shoving all your weight down on Stephen's shoulders. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in, so he rolled over easily, towards the edge of the bed, which freed up most of the bed for whatever came next.

You immediately snuggled yourself back into James’ arms, nestling against his chest. “There… all better.”

He hmm’ed at the crown of your head, holding you tight. His hips ground against yours, a stiffness pressing into your hip bone. A reminder – he was a man. But not akin to the other men… he was different. You looked up, gazing into his eyes.

James guided you backwards onto the bed, your ass hitting the mattress with a squeak of protest from the old springs. Placing one hand on either side of your hips, he kissed you again, urging you back further yet. He was intoxicating. Everything he did had you quivering like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf – and you wanted more of it. More of everything. You wanted him.

“I love you just a little too much,” you cooed, brushing your lips over his neck. The satin of his ascot brushed against your chin and you longed to feel it tied around your wrists. Your hand brushed along his bulge, feeling the taut fabric that covered it. As the feelings bubbled up inside of you, effervescent like champagne, you couldn’t stand it. No man should ever make you feel the way he did and with a small gasp of air, you reached for your knife again. James caught you fast, holding your wrist in an iron grip.

“I’m afraid not, my dear. You won’t get that pleasure with me.”

“Pleasure?” You asked, doe-eyed, feigning innocence yet again.

“Perhaps another pleasure,” he cooed against your lips, his moustache tickling the flesh under your nose. You were divine… a shining beacon of temptation amongst a sea of poor fools. It had been decades since a woman captivated him the way you did.

James sank to his knees, slowly, as you watched, holding your breath. His hands gathered your satin slip over your knees, and pushed it over your hips, exposing your silken underwear. The wet spot had grown considerably, and James pressed his lips against the damp fabric. The sensation was electric, sending chills up your spine in a wave of unadulterated pleasure. He kissed her again, pressing harder. He could almost taste her through the silk. You whimpered, and let your head drop between your shoulders. He brushed his lips across your mound again, and you got even wetter. For a brief moment, he disappeared and the reaction was painfully visceral.

“Don’t…. Don’t stop…” you said to the ceiling, out of breath and trembling. You could hardly get yourself upright to look at him.

“I’ve no intention of doing so, my dear. None whatsoever.” Carefully, as though unwrapping a delicate gift, James pulled your underwear from your hips, tugging them delicately down your thighs. Murder always got him worked up, but this was an entirely different arousal.

“Let me see her…” he said, low His hands were on your thighs, resting carefully atop of them.

Using your manicured fingers, you reached forward to spread your cunt to him, eagerly, obediently. She glistened in the low-lighting of the room and you heard him inhale. He leaned closer to her and began kitten-licking between your folds, sending a shockwave through your core. She clenched uncontrollably, tightening. James paused to observe, pleased with the reaction. He’d done so little, and you were already a mess. Placing his hands behind your knees, he scooted you further towards him.

Your cunt ached with everything he did; from the gentle touches to the way that his moustache tickled the soft skin of your inner thigh. You weren’t used to your heart beating this quickly outside of killing someone. He was making you feel things you’d long since forgotten.

To say that you never experienced sexual pleasure would be a lie; you did. Usually, covered in blood and panting, after a kill, your body and senses would be so wound up that you’d finger yourself, use a vibrator, something to get yourself off. But this orgasm, you knew, would be different. And much quicker.

With a breath, he flattened his tongue against your cunt, lapping at it hungrily. Your muscles all trembled, the first hint of an orgasm clawing at your insides. And just before you did, he pulled away. Cruelly. Mercilessly. As though he knew that he had you under his spell…. Oh, you’d kill him if he’d only let you.

James slipped two fingers inside your waiting, wet cunt. You let out a desperate yelp, rocking your hips back and forth to meet his fingers. Electricity coursed through your core, your body quivering again. His fingers drilled into you, curling upwards with each thrust, hitting your sensitive spot. The pressure increased, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter around itself. You were close.

“Speak to me,” he ordered. “Use your voice.”

You swallowed, wetting your throat. It was frightfully hard to form words, your mind was too clouded with arousal and ecstasy. “C-can’t…. Feels…. So good….”

James leaned forward again, the tip of his tongue drilling into your sensitive clit, twirling at it. After a moment, he encircled your clit with his lips, sucking softly. You were sweet, wet and singing for him. James hummed into your pussy, satisfied. With his fingers still thrusting inside you, the overstimulation was too much. Your coil snapped, and your hands flew to his hair, making tight fists in the greased locks.

As you orgasmed, you called his name, chanting it over and over again like a prayer. He was there, between your legs, tugging you over the edge with whispered praises against your throbbing cunt. An attentive lover, James didn’t stop fucking you – or licking at you – until the final pulse subsided.

“Now that I’ve made you mine,” he said, straightening up. “Let’s deal with your little hobby, my dear.”

Made you his? You thought, chewing on the corner of your lip, as your eyes bored into his. How dare he – made you his. Despite feeling like you’d been bamboozled, you knew it was true. He’d made you his, and barred you from loving any other man again.

A knock at the door. You looked down at Stephen – you’d almost forgotten he was there. James got to his feet as the door opened, and you noticed that his cock had tented in his trousers, pulling against the fabric, begging for release. You gasped, looking at the woman as she entered. She was pushing a silver room service cart, though it was empty.

“Fret not my dear, it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.”

You furrowed your brows; his erection or a corpse in a hotel room? You weren’t sure which. Effortlessly, James hoisted Stephen’s expired body up onto the cart, waving his hand dismissively towards the woman, who hmm’d curtly, and made her way back towards the door.

“Follow me,” he said, jovially as he headed towards the open door. He began whistling a tune, as though wheeling a body out into the hallway was the most normal, routine thing he’d done all day. Perhaps it was. You heaved a breath, and got up off the bed, pulling your underwear back up.

“James, James, wait!”

He paused.

“Aren’t you going to… well…”

His eyes followed yours to his groin, which was still stiff. You sucked on your bottom lip, looking up at him with come-hither eyes. Curiosity had gotten the best of you. Despite having just come, you wanted more, and you desperately wanted to know what the weight of his cock felt like in your hands.

“Oh.” He smiled, pleased. With a slow nod, he reached forward to cup your chin with his large hands. “I’ll get mine.”

#James Patrick March #James March #James Patrick March x you #James Patrick March x reader #James Patrick March smut #ahs hotel #ahs smut #myfics #requests

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ageingfangirl2 · 8 months

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A Little Goes A Long Way! Buggy (OPLA)

SMUT! A week has passed since a drunken encounter between you and your captain occurred and he's all you have on your mind, little do you know your captain feels the same way. Buggy x Reader (Female)

Part 2

Y/N

It had been a week since you'd gotten drunk with the crew after a successful raid that came with a lot of treasure. It had been a week since you drunkenly told your captain that you wanted him to fuck you and that you craved him, and the captain followed through fucking you beneath the deck. It had been a week since he left dark hickeys on your inner thighs, chest and neck that had only started to fade recently. It had been a week since your last interaction, and you weren't sure if he regretted that night because his orders came from other crew members.

There was one thing you were sure of and that was that you couldn't get him off your mind. He was like a drug and you were addicted. Maybe you'd been at sea too long and needed a release. You would fool around when you docked in a port with random guys, but the captain made those guys seem like boys and sex wouldn't be the same unless it was with him.

You weren't the only female crew member, but you'd been around the longest. Of course, Buggy had screwed them, and they had stories to tell that only piqued your interest. Alvida was the only one who didn't have an interest in him that way. The other crew were more feminine than you, but you could draw an eye or two, choosing to make men come to you and not the other way around. But here you were debating going to Buggy and begging for round two.

'y/n can you do me a favour?' Alvida asks, popping her head around the kitchen door.

You stop chopping vegetables and face her smiling, the two of you got along really well since she joined, 'Anything for you Alvida.'

She winks at you, 'I was asked to gather intel on our next target from a guy in town. Can you deliver it to the captain please, I'm going back into town.'

she slaps some documents down on a barrel and you roll your eyes, 'Of course, go get laid.'

She blows you a kiss, 'See you tomorrow beautiful, don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

You laugh at her antics as she vanishes. You finish chopping the vegetables before picking up the documents. It looked like you had an excuse to see Buggy, you just weren't sure what was going to happen.

BUGGY

Running a ship was hard work. Yes, we had a success last week but now we need to move on to the next target. Alvida should have something for me, though I wasn't quite sure where the damn woman was. Working also got my mind off y/n of all people. They'd been on the crew for a couple of years, mainly helping in the kitchen and showing impressive knife skills in shows. They put up with my rants, and flirting and took punishments like a champ. I never once pursued them, unlike other female crew members out of respect. So imagine my surprise when a week ago when they were drunk they came up to me and said they wanted to fuck and had been thinking about me for a while.

I'm a man and gave into my carnal desires, taking y/n in the shadows, pounding into them as they begged for more. I left marks all over their body, and they were beautiful in the light of day when they weren't covered. But for a week now I'd been ignoring them, assuming that once sober they had regrets.

'Captain can I come in?' y/n calls out, knocking on the door.

Well, this would be interesting. I take a deep breath, 'come in.'

y/n walks in smiling, they are always a happy person, and this makes it hard to read them, 'Alvida's a little busy and asked me to deliver this intel.'

y/n puts the folder on the desk but doesn't immediately leave. I sit back in my chair and smirk, 'something else on your mind?'

y/n closes their eyes and takes a deep breath before pointing an accusing finger my way, 'I'm all over the place and it's your fault.'

My smirk reaches my ears and I chuckle, 'Mmm, it's not all on me, you know y/n,' I say teasingly, 'I was minding my own business having a couple of drinks when you came onto me. Been thinking about me all week have you?'

y/n opens their eyes and a blush gives them away. I detach a hand and use it to pull them towards me, forcing them onto my lap which they straddle without any further prompting.

I unbutton their shorts and slip my fingers inside, shocked to find them not wearing any underwear, 'dirty girl.'

y/n bites their lip, 'I need to do laundry, this wasn't planned.'

I nod along, mischief in my eyes, 'You didn't lock the door. Do you want someone to walk in on us?'

This wasn't my first rodeo, I knew exactly where to touch, rub, pinch and how much pressure to apply to the clit to get certain responses. y/n was putty in my hands whimpering and trying to keep control, but this was my fight to win.

I lick my lips, 'answer me. Do you want to get caught with your captain? Do you want the crew to think you're another whore for my dick?'

y/n's whimpers were enough to get me hard, but they still kept eye contact which was hot, '...maybe...right now...I want you inside me...'

I don't give any warning before I move away from the clit and thrust two fingers inside their tight warm cunt, 'BUGGY!' they squeal loudly, and squirm on my lap.

'Tell me what you want,' I whisper, voice low, and y/n shudders beneath me.

'...faster...please...' they beg and a moan slips out.

I add a third finger and quicken the pace. Beads of sweat form on y/n's forehead as they come undone around me. y/n bucks their hips and grinds against me, 'FUCK!' I exclaim as y/n starts fucking themselves on my fingers matching my pace.

if anyone walked past my quarters right now all they'd hear were y/n's moans, 'You really are a dirty girl. So desperate and needy, I should have fucked you sooner,' I laugh.

With one more forceful thrust from me y/n cums on my fingers still inside them. They breathe heavily coming down from their high, the blissful look in their eyes turning me on even more, '...fuck...Buggy...'

I remove my slick fingers and bring them to my lips, licking them clean, 'so sweet. I didn't have to do much, you fucked yourself and it was hot.'

y/n's face turns a darker shade of red before they bury it in my chest in embarrassment at their slutty actions. I can't contain my laughter as I hold them against me and kiss the top of their head, 'next time I'm going to watch you finger fuck yourself y/n. You're captain's dirty girl now.

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venjras · 1 year

Text

I’M YOURS - GOJO.

It's early in the morning, you just woke up. A little puff leaves your lips at the thought of the big family lunch that awaits you. A couple of times a month your family, the Satoru family, the fushiguro and the itadori get together to spend some time together.

It's always been like this, as long as you can remember. There wasn’t a time where this kind of tradition was skipped. With that you and the children of these families have become inseparable. Some more than others.

After what seems like an eternity, you roll out of bed and head down to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. You hear voices filling the living room but decide not to pay that much attention to them, knowing they were probably Gojo's parents. They are used to get there earlier so they can help with the cooking.

You were everything but wrong, his dad greets you with a smile while his wife immediately runs to hug you making you curl up your nose.

« You get more and more beautiful every time i see you, Y/n. » She says and you almost laugh. You are a beautiful girl but you just woke up and for sure you aren’t the best view in the world.

You thank her and then sneak off to the kitchen, you hate talking too much that early in the morning and with nothing in your stomach you seriously struggle to concentrate.

Starting to get everything ready when you hear the front door slam, probably the boys just got back from their saturday night out. Surely before lunch you won’t see a single soul from them, as long as they come home they go straight up into a coma. However, your expectations are dashed when a tall figure appears in the doorway, looking at you from under his thick white hair.

« ‘Morning. »

You say as you watch him lean against the counter top, letting out a small grunt before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him, hugging you tightly. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, rolling your eyes slightly as his breath tickled your neck.

That was totally unexpected.

« I'm not leaving until you hug me back. »

His voice fills your ears, sending numerous shivers down your spine and a stupid tingling in your stomach. Your relationship had always been very playful but his tone seemed not to be. You felt his arms wrap perfectly around you, squeezing you in their grip as your body pressed against his own. Slowly bringing you between his legs. Feeling your heart pounding harder locked inside your ribcage as you put your arms around his neck, finally returning that strange hug.

« Are you drunk? »

This question makes him laugh, causing you to squint because of the tickling on your sensitive skin. Not knowing exactly how to take that answer.

« I don't think I've ever been so sober in my entire life, darling. »

A perfect mix between irony and seriousness. Trying to pull yourself away from that sort of embrace but only finding yourself closer to him. His hands that slowly slipped under your sweatshirt in order to have a more direct contact, caressing the soft skin on your back with his fingertips.

Silencing those little butterflies that were starting to fill your stomach. You find yourself paralyzed, you don’t know what to do, what to say and you can barely remember how to breathe. The tension could be cut with a knife and the situation certainly doesn't improve when he finally comes out of the hiding place he had found in your neck, pointing his magnetic eyes into yours. For the first time in a long time not hidden by that thick pair of glasses he always used to wear.

Even more beautiful up close.

He alternated his gaze from you to your lips. Missing a heartbeat, then two and feeling everything around you getting more and more silent until only the two of you remained there. There was nothing or no one, just the two of you.

« Can I kiss you? »

He asked and the question sounded surreal, totally dazed to the point where you could only nod. You could feel your heart in your throat as his lips met yours giving life to an extremely eager, sweet kiss.

The fireworks had broken out and had never looked so good. Your two mouths moved in perfect symphony, as if they were meant to complement each other. Moaning into the kiss as he slipped his tongue pass your lips so that your tongues could clash together.

Savoring each other at a slow pace as if they wanted to memorize every single detail of the other. Suppressing another small whimper against his lips as the whole thing was fucking your head, earning a growl from him and an increase in the grip he had on your hips.

Pulling away from him just to catch up your breath, keeping your lips parted as you were still trying to process everything that happened. Your skin was electric, your body full of emotions you've never felt before.

Pure adrenaline.

The desire to touch every single inch of his skin, to feel him ever closer and to have his scent imprinted on you. And from the way he was devouring you with his eyes only you could very well tell it was the same for him. He went to hide his face again in the hollow of your neck, starting to fill it with small kisses until he reached the shell of your ear.

« You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. » He whispered just before being interrupted by an extremely familiar voice.

« Oh sorry guys.. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. » His mom pronounced before fleeing to the living room, giving you no time to reply. Gojo bursted into a laugh as you turned red. Trying to get back to your breakfast to sidetrack what had just happened.

« Can I have you for breakfast instead? » He asked just wanting to increase your intense blush.

« Asshole. »

You jokingly push him, turning away from his figure but unable to hide the smile that was forming on your lips.

You could have gotten used to it.

©️ venjras.

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sergeantbuckybarnes · 1 year

Text

anti-heroe // billy russo

Summary: You’re assigned to eliminate Frank Castle. But how can you do it? He’s your boyfriend’s best friend. And Billy has no idea you used to kill for money.

Pairing: Billy Russo x BlackWidow!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: soft billy, implied smut, murder, stabbing, blood, lame descriptions of fighting, angst, a bit of fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Thanks to @wannab-urs for proofreading this!

main masterlist

Karen was already in bed when the sound of frantic knocking on her door startled her. Her heart raced as the sound grew louder and more insistent with each passing moment. She turned to the alarm clock on her bed table flashing 10:30 pm.

Who could be knocking at this hour?

She slowly got up and crept toward the door. As she got closer, the knocking continued, and she heard a faint voice calling out her name.

She cautiously opened the door, her features quickly twisting into a horrified expression at the scene in front of her eyes — you, bleeding, the handle of a knife protruding from your stomach, your left arm loosely hanging on the neck of a blonde woman who had her arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady.

“A little help here?”

48 HOURS EARLIER

The sun was rising and the birds were singing outside. A strong arm was wrapped around your waist, and his breath was hitting the back of your neck. You smiled and snuggled into his warm chest, feeling content and happy. Even though you'd only been together for a little over a year, you couldn't imagine living without the feeling of being in his arms.

Billy stirred behind you, and you felt his arm tighten around you. “Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, leaving scorching open-mouthed kisses there.

Those three little words were enough to make your heart flutter.

You turned to face him, and he trailed his lips toward yours. You gazed into his eyes, taking in the moment. You had never considered yourself a lucky person, but meeting Billy changed your outlook on life. Being there, nestled in his arms, made the world outside seem less twisted. Billy's embrace erased every negative memory, feeling, or thought you had. You were safe there, with him. He was home.

You knew you were in love with the ex-marine, but you were wise to refrain from saying the three words. Frank had made it a point, when you and Billy got together, to inform you that this was Billy's first serious relationship --finally choosing quality over quantity. You weren't sure if he was trying to scare you or what, but it had the opposite effect. It gave you some kind of... confidence? Because this was also your first serious relationship. Well, it was your first relationship. Period.

You didn’t want to scare him with these feelings, especially when you weren’t sure if they were reciprocated. So you preferred to keep basking in what you had.

“Good morning, handsome,” you whispered softly against his lips. Your breath mingled with his before you crashed your lips against his, in a not-so-soft kiss.

You were soon trapped beneath him, and although having Billy Russo on top of you was very enticing, and you would have taken that road any other day, you put a palm on his chest, backing him up a little.

“I have to go to work, and so do you.”

Billy groaned in frustration.

“You don’t have to work in that dreadful place; you know you could work for me.”

It wasn't the first time Billy had offered you a position at ANVIL so you wouldn't have to work at the coffee shop, and just like the other times, you turned the offer down.

“So everyone can gossip that I made my way there through being tangled in the boss’ sheets? Thank you, but no.”

“You know I wouldn’t let anybody shame you like that,” he said it in such a convincing and certain tone that it almost convinced you. Almost.

“You can’t control anything, Billy.”

“I sure can try.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and bring him down toward you, minimizing the gap between the two of you.

“I like my job.”

“No, you don’t.”

No, you didn’t. You hated how well he knew you. But the truth is, the job at the coffee shop is the best you could aspire for—You didn't even have a high school diploma; you didn’t have anything to apply for a well-paying proper job. And part of the reason you didn’t take Billy’s offer was because you didn’t want him to pity you or just give you a good position because you were his girlfriend.

“Just hear me out,” Billy said, his voice earnest. “You're smart, hardworking, and I know you would excel in a corporate setting. Plus, we could spend even more time together.”

You sighed. “Billy, I appreciate your confidence in me, but I want to earn my own success, not just have it handed to me because of our relationship."

“I’m not gonna convince you, am I?”

You shook your head, “But you’re always welcome to try.”

You closed the gap and let yourself get lost in him.

Today was a particularly busy day. You were wiping down counters and restocking coffee mugs when you saw a familiar face that made your stomach drop.

You could feel her eyes on you as you continued to wipe down the counter. You tried to complete your task quickly, hoping that you could escape to the back room before she had the chance to say anything. But before you were able to get away, she waved you over to her table.

You took a seat across from her and nervously fiddled with your apron. She seemed delighted to see you, greeting you like you were long-time friends, with a smile plastered on her face that you could tell was far from being genuine.

“What are you doing here, Valentina?” you sighed.

It was obvious she didn’t make her way to the coffee shop you worked at just because she was a coffee lover. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine never did anything without a motive.

“I have a job for you.”

You squint your eyes at the woman.

“I’m retired. Go and find someone else.”

You promised yourself when you got free that you’d never go back to that life. You couldn't undo what you'd done in the past, but you weren’t under chemical subjugation anymore, you were free, and you wanted to live a normal life — the life you never had the opportunity to have. The life Dreykov took away from you when you were barely three years old, and he decided an orphan child would be a good killing machine someday. You’d spent the last 25 years of your life being a puppet, and you refused to be one again.

“You’re going to be interested in this one. Trust me,” she insisted.

You knew the woman well enough to know she wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you noticed the queue of people forming behind her.

“I have a break in five minutes.”

You opened the door of the shop and a gust of wind hit your face. You were relieved to be out of the cramped, stuffy store taking a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. You started walking down the street, feeling the wind tousling your hair.

You reached a nearby alley, knowing Valentina was waiting for you. It had been about a year since you last saw the woman. You had no idea how she had found you because you thought you had done a fantastic job of remaining under her radar. You doubted Yelena had sold you out, that was not typical of her.

“Well?” You asked as you rounded the corner. Just as you had anticipated, there she was. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine's composure and elegance were nearly impossible to overlook. Though this clearly wasn't her preferred hangout, it didn't appear to bother her. She was a woman who could adapt to anything, never looking out of place even when she so clearly stood out..

Her appearance matched her personality; Valentina was a powerful woman who easily influenced people; fortunately for you, you knew her well enough not to fall for her ruses.

She handed you the file she was holding when she walked in the coffee shop before. “They’re offering $200,000 to take him down.”

You glanced bewildered at the woman. That was a substantial sum of money.

“Why me?” You inquired.

“Because you’re the best.”

You averted your gaze from her and opened the file. The blood drained from your face when you saw the picture of the man in the file.

“Who wants him dead?”

“That I can’t tell.”

Your attention remained fixated on the photograph, as a maelstrom of emotions and thoughts raced through every inch of your body.

“Well, what do you say? Do you want to get back into business, or do you want to spend the rest of your life pouring coffee and struggling to make ends meet?”

You closed the file and tossed it to her.

“I’m not gonna kill Frank Castle.”

“You’re too quiet,” Billy pointed. He had noticed something was worrying you. Yet he was hesitant to ask you. The last thing he wanted was to upset you more. But as the night went on your distress didn’t subside, and he started to get really worried.

You looked at him, “I’m fine,” you simply said.

“No, you’re not,” he grabbed the book you were pretending to read, “Did something happen at work?”

You shook your head.

“What’s worrying you, love?”

You sighed. You didn’t want to lie to him, but you couldn’t tell him the truth either. “Just tired. It’s been a busy day.”

You knew he wasn't fooled by your pathetic excuse, but fortunately, he didn't press the issue.

“I can help you relax,” he said instead, pulling a strand of hair out of the way so he could kiss your neck, moving up the line of your jaw and back down your throat.. His lips moved along your skin, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the sensation, feeling your body come alive with anticipation.

You needed a distraction right now, and Billy was always too good at taking your mind off problems.

“Yes, please,” your voice came as a faint whisper, just barely audible to him.

“Anything you want?”

You turned to look at him and soon you were lost in his dark eyes. His eyes held so much emotion that it felt like you could combust.

“Just make me forget my shitty day.”

A smirk lifted in his perfect features, “That I can do.”

He easily lifted you off the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist, one arm loosely draped around his neck while your other hand gripped his jaw and you collided your lips against his in a sloppy kiss as he carried you to the bedroom.

You raised your hand and knocked on Yelena's apartment door. After a few seconds of waiting, she heard footsteps approaching. The door opened, revealing a disheveled Yelena.

“What was the emergency?” Yelena asked, as you stepped inside and glanced around the apartment. It was bigger than yours, but just as cluttered.

“Hope, it’s not too early,” you said when you saw her yawning.

“No. Not at all. I was already up anyways,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “So what brings you here?”

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” Yelena said as she headed to the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thanks,” You replied as you followed Yelena. “Has Val contacted you?”

Yelena turned around, visibly surprised. “No, she hasn’t. I’m on holiday.”

“Good for you,” you muttered dryly. “She came to my workplace to offer me a job.”

“How did she find you?”

“Good question. But that’s not why I’m here. The target she offered me is my friend’s boyfriend.”

“Well, that sucks.”

Typical Yelena. Emphatic as always.

“Who do you think is going to take over?” You asked her, “Sonya? Maybe Antonia?”

Yelena shrugged, “No idea.”

“Come on, Yelena. An innocent man could die!” You exclaimed, exasperated.

Sometimes her emotional detachment drove you insane.

“If Val took the case he’s not innocent.”

“I know this dude, he’s a good man.”

You were sure that whoever ordered this murder was someone with a vendetta against The Punisher and they didn’t want to get their hands dirty by doing the job themselves.

“And what do you want us to do?”

“Protect him.”

“You said you didn’t want to get involved in this life again!” Yelena exclaimed.

“I’m not gonna murder anyone. I'm going to stop someone from being killed." You defended yourself..

“Who is this guy anyway?”

“Frank Castle.”

“The Punisher?” Yelena's eyes widened in surprise. Oh, so she knows him. “He’s a 40-year-old man with military training, I think he’s more than capable of protecting himself.”

“Not against one of us,” you said. Yelena looked at you, “Do you think another widow is going to balk when she has to pull the trigger and put a bullet through his head with a sniper rifle?”

“Ты и твой героиновый комплекс,” she murmured under her breath.

“пожалуйста сестра,” you pleaded

“Do you have a crush on this guy or something?”

“What? No! I just told you he’s my friend’s boyfriend, and not only that but my boyfriend’s best friend.”

“You got yourself a boyfriend? Damn, girl, you livin’ the good life,” she made a brief pause, then asked, “Is he hot?” She wriggled her eyebrows and you let out a chuckle.

“He’s so fucking hot.”

You almost forgot what it was like to be on a mission —spying on someone, following their movements, watching and learning their weakness. This time was different. For the first time, you weren’t learning the best way to kill a target. You were learning how to protect one.

You and Yelena found yourselves crouched on the rooftop of the building opposite Frank's apartment. From there you had the perfect view of his house and the street. He hadn’t left his place since you arrived a few hours ago, which made things a little easier.

“There’s someone else there with him,” Yelena said, looking through the binoculars.

You turned to her, “What? No one has entered the building since we arrived.”

“Maybe he was already there, just out of view.”

You took the binoculars from her hands and brought them close to your eyes.

“Oh no.”

Your voice betrayed you and it didn’t pass Yelena who started to swamp you with questions. “What? You know the other guy? Is he a threat? Should we intervene?”

“What’s Billy doing here?”

It only complicated things more. God, you hated your life.

“Wait… Is that lover boy?” She took the binoculars from your hands. “Черт, он горячий. Вы точно знаете, как их выбирать.”

She then turned your attention to you. “Does he know?”

You knew exactly what she meant by that.

“No.”

“It's better that way.”

You turned to her, “Is it? Because I feel immense guilt every time I look at him. Every time he asks me about my childhood and I have to feed him lies, I feel like a horrible person. Especially when he has been nothing but honest with me.”

“If you had told him the truth he would have run out,” you looked at her, she paused briefly and then continued, “We’re not like Natasha. We’re not an Avenger. We’re not the trained killer on the cover of a magazine that kids call their hero. And you may have left this life, but this life never leaves you. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

You wanted to believe that Billy would have understood what you went through. He had to, right? Then why haven’t you told him.

“They’re leaving.”

Yelena’s voice pulled you out of your trance. Seconds later, Billy and Frank were walking out the doors of the building. Not much later, a dark figure appeared from a nearby alley and was now discreetly following the men.

“We have to go down,” you said as you reached for a wire to attach to the front of the building, but your friend reached her hand, stopping you.

“Wait.”

“Wait for what?”

You didn’t want to take any chances. You pulled on your mask and night vision goggles, concealing your entire face. You secured your grappling hook on the rooftop and started repelling down to the ground. You moved quickly and gracefully, making it look easy.

“ебать,” Yelena muttered under her breath before following your actions.

You didn't exactly land quietly; as you neared the bottom, you let go of the rope and slid to the ground. And the fact that there wasn't a single soul on the street didn't help either. Billy and Frank didn't have time to acknowledge your presence before Yelena landed next to you and another three people stepped out of the shadows, blocking their path.

“What the fuck?” you muttered to yourself.

“What the hell is this?” Frank demanded..

“You pissin’ the wrong people off again, Frankie?”

The dark figure that had come out of the alley was still behind the two men, you lifted your right arm, the Widow’s bite ready to take the aim, and in the blink of an eye, an electrical discharge hit them. One down.

At this, two of the other persons dressed in black attacked Billy and Frank. Frank threw a punch at one of them, and Billy kicked the other one. The last one standing made a move toward you, but before you could hit them with a taser disk, Yelena took them out with a bullet in their skull.

The sound of the shot bounced off the silence of the street, and it only made the other two people who were fighting Billy and Frank fight harder. One of them pulled a knife from their suit pocket, and nimbly slashed Frank across the face, followed by a kick to the chest that staggered Frank a bit. In turn, the other fighter had managed to immobilize your boyfriend, forcing him to his knees and aiming a Heckler & Koch P30 at his head.

Rage ran through your blood, “Я бы не стал этого делать, если бы я был тобой,” you stepped closer, “держись от него подальше.”

They laughed at you in response, which only infuriated you more. You sprinted at them, and with a swift flick of your leg, you knocked the revolver out of their hand, freeing Billy from their clutches.

You took a swing at the masked attacker, who easily blocked it and then jumped back to avoid the next one. You moved with grace and precision, as if you had been born to fight, and in a way, you had been. They were struggling to keep up, you could sense their desperation, and took advantage of it.

You went for the kill. You delivered a powerful kick that sent the attacker against the building’s wall. They tried to stand up, but you had already moved in for the finishing move. You grabbed their neck and twisted it sharply, breaking it in one swift move.

When you turned to see if Yelena was okay, you noticed the one Frank had been fighting lay motionless on the ground. He reached down and removed the mask his adversary had been wearing the entire time, revealing a young dark-haired woman no older than 30 years old.

So you were correct. They all were Widows.

“You know this woman?” He asked, turning to face your boyfriend, who was approaching him.

Billy inspected the woman's face and then shook his head. Then, the two men's attention was drawn toward you and Yelena.

“Мы должны уйти. Наша работа здесь сделана,” Yelena said when she sensed their gaze on her.

“Oh dear, no one is leaving. The fun has just begun.”

That didn't come from any of you, but rather from a newcomer to the scene —a redhead in a white suit.

Why wasn’t she wearing a mask like the others?

A gun was visible in one of her suit's front pockets, and she held a dagger in her right hand. She moved to strike Frank, but you stepped in the line of fire, your body taking the full brunt of the impact. You grunted in agony as the cold dagger pierced your stomach and the redhead twisted it inside you.

The two men were frozen at the scene that had just unfolded in front of their eyes. Yelena screamed for you. She sprang into action and charged at the redhead, punching her and deflecting every blow and kick from her, eventually knocking her to the ground. The redhead was helpless and Yelena was filled with rage, her knuckles turning white as she grasped the woman’s throat. Yelena tightened her grip and squeezed, the woman's eyes widened in shock and then she was still.

Meanwhile, you were on your knees, bleeding on the street, the dagger still piercing your stomach, your breath shallow and feeble. You felt Yelena kneel by your side.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she tried to reassure you, but it was clear from her wavering voice she needed as much convincing as you.

“Your friend needs to go to the hospital,” Frank said, concerned. Even if he had no idea who you were, you had saved his life for whatever reason.

“Yeah? And what do we tell them?” Yelena’s voice was strained. She wasn’t a particularly emotional person, but you also knew you were as important to her as she was to you. Yelena was fiercely protective of the people she cared about, and she was not going to let you die.

She helped you get up on your feet, carefully. You clenched your teeth, trying not to scream from the pain. Yelena supported your weight and began walking along the street.

“Where are you going?” This time was Billy who yelled, incredulously.

But even if you were walking at a slow pace, the men did not try to stop you.

“A little help here?”

She quickly ushered you and Yelena inside, her mind racing with questions.

“What happened?” Karen asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. “We have to get her to a hospital.”

“N-No hospitals,” you said weakly, as Yelena gently placed you on Karen’s couch

“Are you going to tell me what happened, Y/N?” Karen inquired once again.

“She saved your boyfriend’s life,” Yelena dropped the words venomously. Even if she didn’t know Karen, she couldn't help but be disgusted by her. It was your friendship with the journalist that made you jump between her boyfriend and that fucking knife. So yes, she blamed her for the whole situation you were in.

“What? Someone tried to kill Frank?”

So much information for Karen to comprehend all at once, and then more knocks were pounded on the door.

“Karen, open the door!” That was Frank’s distinct voice.

“Do not open it,” Yelena snarled.

Karen turned to face you, then to the door that Frank was hammering on. She didn’t know what to do.

“Karen, open the goddamn door!”

She sighed. She didn’t have a choice; if she didn’t open the door she knew her boyfriend would break it down.

“Are you okay?” It was the first thing he asked when Karen opened the door to welcome him into her apartment. He grabbed her face and looked at her concerned. After the incident he just experienced in the street, he thought if someone had gone after him, they might have also gone after his girlfriend. And he couldn’t let her get hurt. Not because of him.

Then he realized there was something wrong. He withdrew his sight from his girl, and it fell on you, and on Yelena who was attempting to keep you awake. Then your gaze is drawn to your boyfriend, who is standing on the threshold. And you could tell by the look on his face that he had connected the dots. And you knew there was no going back from this point forward.

“It was you,” he said, his voice was calm but you knew him well enough to know there was anger behind those words.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Frank shouted at you, “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“I still can.”

“You ain’t dying,” Yelena retorted.

“And who exactly are you?”

Yelena disregarded Frank's question and turned to Karen, “I need towels, alcohol, and a needle and thread.”

Karen nodded firmly and exited the living room.

“Are you going to pull that thing out?” Your boyfriend inquired, and while he was angry, he also sounded concerned. That offered you some optimism; maybe if you made it out alive, you still had a chance to work things out with him.

“You prefer me to leave it inside?”

“You’re going to bleed out!” Billy cried out, raking his fingers through his disheveled. hair.

Karen returned with the items and placed them next to Yelena. “Are you alright?” She knew it was a stupid question to ask, but her brain wasn't functioning properly at the moment.

“Sure,” you said faintly, waving your hand, “I’ve had it worse.”

“No, you have not.”

You disregarded Yelena's rebuke, “Pull it out.”

“This is insane!”

Yelena turned to your boyfriend, “You have any other idea, pretty boy? ‘Cause we can’t go to the hospital.”

Billy looked at your friend, then at you. You wanted to tell him so many things, but mostly you wanted to apologize. You wanted to apologize to him for keeping this portion of your life hidden from him. Because you knew how important honesty was to Billy, and you have completely broken his trust in you. He sighed and knelt alongside you on the couch, holding your hand.

“It’s going to hurt,” he warned you.

“I can take it.”

Billy was taken aback by how confident you sounded. Yelena grasped the dagger’s handle and for a few seconds that’s all she did, then she met your gaze. Silently telling her to go for it. And the last thing you remember is feeling an excruciating pain before passing out.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo x you #billy russo fic #billy russo one shot #the punisher #marvel #the punisher imagine #marvel imagine #ben barnes

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arting-block · 8 months

Note

I absolutely love your writing style & your 11th doctor fics 😊 I’m not sure what your opinions on writing poly ships are, but I’m a sucker for some fem reader x 11 and River, and was wondering if i could request something fluffy and sweet with reader thinking her feelings towards the both of them are unrequited due to River and the Doctor being together already, but of course relationships with the Doctors can always be so complicated so who says he has to love just one woman at a time, he’s got two hands for a reason 🙏❤️

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | Eleventh Doctor x F!Reader x River Song

❝𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.❞

Summary: You were just a companion, a friend to the two Time Lords. At least, you thought you were.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (not really lol), fluffy ending

Words: 6.1K

A/N: I'M ALIVE!!! This request sat in my inbox and I struggled a bit to not turn this into a fully fleshed out story. I swear this was meant to be a smol lil blurb, your honor. I sneezed and then 5k spat onto my screen idk it just happened I swear...Anyways, gonna try to get to my other requests soon 🫡

Ordinary is not in your vocabulary. Nothing in your life ever seemed ordinary the moment the Doctor offered an adventure in his bigger-on-the-inside box and a devilish smile. No one normal would have given their safety in exchange for life-threatening altercations with aliens, monsters, and the worst of the universe. You hated the ordinary, despised the monotony of everyday life.

You took the Doctor’s offer with a smile of your own, delight and mischief to complement.

Everything was going well as far as you were concerned. Lives were saved, memories were made, and all the time in the world to do whatever. You were happy, plain and simple.

You embraced the unknown, thanks to the Doctor’s influence. Comfortable with the odd and unthinkable.

At least you thought you were.

With each adventure comes injuries. Most are minimal that heal in a matter of days. Others leave scars that are forever etched in your skin. Being the self-sacrificing stubborn human you were, you often became a shield to those in need. In this particular case you had gotten slashed by a knife in a tussle.

It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it stretched from your collarbone to the side of your neck. Thin line of crimson and a sharp sting when air hit it. Annoying, yes, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

Your traveling companion had a different view.

You groan, “I’m fine, seriously. There’s no need to fuss over a scratch.”

River, beautiful as she is stubborn, gives you a pointed look. One that borders a withering stare but since you’re you it comes off as scolding.

“You nearly had your head off your shoulders. You’re lucky I was there to intervene,” came her grumbling response.

Her fingers find your chin to tilt your head up, her face out of your line of sight as you stare up at the ceiling. You take the opportunity to roll your eyes at her need to coddle you. You’re a grown woman for Christ’s sake, perfectly capable of handling yourself. If anything you’ve encountered worse and had bounced back fine.

Sure, the knife of your attacker came a tad too close to the artery on your neck. Hell, maybe if your reflexes didn’t kick in fast enough you would’ve had a much different night to spend.

But those hypothetical scenarios were merely that. Hypothetical. You’ve walked away that fight with bruised knuckles and a shallow, 4 inch cut.

You were fine. Perfectly capable of handling yourself—

River’s finger finds the hollow of your throat.

Feather-light, just barely touching the skin. You feel her touch up along your neck sending a chill down your spine. Your breath hitched when it stopped just above your pulse point. Something tugs the strings in your chest.

A dangerous feeling coils down in your core.

River’s breath tickles your ear, “Breathe, darling. Can’t have you passing out on me.”

As if on command, your body responds eagerly. You force air to leave your lungs all at once. There’s a slight burn left behind and you're sure it’s not due to your withholding oxygen.

You clear your throat, “Are you going to patch me up Doctor Song?”

It comes off shaky and quiet.

River’s hand leaves your face and you can finally see her. A curve of a smile and a glint in her eyes that leaves goosebumps.

Your legs involuntarily shift close.

River gives a shrug, “You’re right, just a scratch. No need for fussing. Unless you want me to patch you up?”

You shake your head, “N-No, there’s no need. Thank you for offering though.”

There’s a painful squeeze in your chest. Regret.

River nods understandably, “I’ll be out of your hair then. Give a shout if you need me.”

You watch as she turns to leave. You can’t help but trace the curve of her hips as she approaches the door. Words clump in your throat, an impulse of a thought racing. Before you can act she crosses the threshold, the door closing behind her.

Somehow it stung more than the 4 inch cut on your throat.

Just a friend. Only a friend.

— — —

You tried to put the encounter with River as far removed from your mind as you can. It was just the heat of the moment, a little rise because it’s been ages since you’ve had a romantic relationship. Not that you needed one. You’re perfectly content with spending your time with the Doctor. Who needs romance when you’re traveling the universe with a quirky alien?…A hot alien.

A hot alien who is your friend. Nothing more.

“Is there something on my face?” the Doctor asked, swiping his chin for invisible crumbs.

His words snapped you out of your haze. Back to the present.

“Wha—No! Sorry, lost in my own head. What were you saying?”

The Doctor presses a few buttons to prepare the TARDIS for travel, glossing over your admitting to not listening, “I was in the middle of explaining why going to Kaythrona would be a bad idea in comparison to Bouble-4A. Perfect this time of year—trees made of crystals and the water is perfect temperature year round. Perfect water, perfect temperature, perfect getaway!”

His smile is that of pure joy. Infectious to anyone, especially you.

“Yeah, perfect! You have any plans when we arrive?” you asked, leaning against the console.

You were an arm’s length away. At this distance you could smell the remnants of his earl gray tea from this morning clinging to his clothes. Wild hair that is tamed on the sides, the cut of his cheekbone, and the hint of stubble along his jaw.

The Doctor whizzes about the controls with flair. Pushing, pressing, and pulling controls that look indistinguishable from one another.

“Many, many plans. Oh, (Y/N) you’re gonna love the little markets along the coast. We could go to the seafood restaurant—no, the pearl mines! So much to do and lots to show you.”

The Doctor makes his way around back to you, bumping shoulders as he did so. He turns to you, excited to expose you to yet another world.

You give him a small smile in return. Hoping your demure expression would hide the fluttering of your heart.

Pulling the engine lever down, you feel the familiar rumbling of the TARDIS. The two of you grab onto the railing in hopes to not fall over. The Doctor reaches for the edge of the console, bracing himself.

You, caught up in your fawning, didn’t properly latch onto the railing and nearly toppled over. A hand yanks your arm and you collide with a wall of wool and earl gray.

“Don’t worry I got you,” the Doctor assured, his mouth nearly kissing against your ear.

His hand migrates from your arm to your waist, pulling you to his side. Tight and secure. The shaking continues, but you’re much too focused on how warm the Doctor seems to be. His hand firm on your side, as if it was meant to be there. Your cheek against the scratchy wool of his coat just inches away from his hearts.

Just a friend. Only a friend.

You grasp onto his jacket even though there’s a perfectly stable railing right in front of you.

— — —

Ordinary didn’t apply to your life, so it would only make sense it didn’t touch your love life either.

River once again joined you and the Doctor for another adventure. Surprisingly, one that didn’t involve intergalactic battles and executing a poorly planned heist. No, she just so happened to be in New York in 2023 at the exact same pizza parlor the Doctor is dragging you to.

In the past few months you’ve come to realize that the odd feelings in your stomach and the nervous butterflies wasn’t just spur-of-the-moment anxiety. It only manifests when you are within proximity to either the Doctor or River. Anytime they slipped past your personal bubble, you felt the simmering heat in your stomach and a dizziness whenever they got too close. You didn’t realize how the three of you would be joined at the hip until you realized something.

You love the Doctor…and River.

It came crawling into your mind until it was all you could think about. Moments across the years playing over and over. You loved them both for so long but you played it off as platonic. It should’ve been obvious with how you hoard their attention and do everything in your power to be near them. Their laughs, praise, and happy moments shared between you set your heart ablaze.

Only problem is that they’re already married. They weren’t secretive either. Always flirting in the face of danger. Lingering eyes and a heated kiss when things got rough. They never hid their affection towards one another.

You were never jealous of them. The ache in your chest came from the fact that they would never share that with you. You were you and they were the Doctor and River Song. They had a history long before you and they seemed more than content with each other.

River sat in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. The afternoon sun highlighted her golden hair like a halo. She was writing in that old diary of hers that resembles your beloved time-machine.

The Doctor walked in fast, measured steps while you tried to keep up. His hand on your back, guiding you through the people crowding around the cashier. The closer you stepped the more anxiety pools.

River looks up from her diary with a wide grin. The one where it crinkles her eyes and makes you lose breath.

“Hello sweetie,” she says, her words honeyed with affection.

“Hello love,” the Doctor returns with a giddy smile.

River’s gaze met yours. Her expression didn’t change, as if she was just as happy to see you.

“We meet again, darling.”

Darling became her nickname for you as much as sweetie was for the Doctor.

She’s just flirting, nothing special.

Your nails dig into your palms, “So it seems, Riv.”

The Doctor ushers you into the booth so you sit shoulder to shoulder. He rubs his hands together as he snatched a menu from the pile in the middle of the table.

“Alright, what do we have here? Some good ol’ pepperoni, some cheese, and lovely sauce. I’m absolutely famished. Haven’t stopped to think, let alone eat something other than the ramen packets Y/N hoards,” the Doctor says.

You snatched the menu from the Doctor, “So you were eating them! You said they could clog your arteries.”

The Doctor snatches the menu right back, “I said they could clog your arteries, not mine.”

“You made me believe I was going mad! Why couldn't you get your own?”

“‘Cause your room is closer…and less expensive.”

The two of you continue to bicker whilst the menu keeps being tugged mercilessly. Ramen packets changed to snoring habits (you were horrified that the Doctor snuck into your room when you were still in it) and the argument shifted to accusations. Most of which was you calling the Doctor a robber. The Doctor deflects and somehow blames you for being easy to rob.

River watched the exchange with a tiniest of smiles. The Doctor with a hint of red at his ears, leaning forward. You with pinched brows and sharp words that you don't actually mean. So close the two of you were that your knees were touching and the air between was your mingled breaths.

“Ahem,” River coughed rather obnoxiously.

At the sound of her, the two of you ceased arguing.

“Any louder and you’ll alert the whole parlor,” she scolds.

Luckily the busy little parlor was already loud with its many customers. Loud enough to drown the squabbling in your booth. Though the realization of how you might've looked made you and the Doctor slouch into your seats.

River narrows her eyes, “If you're done arguing like petty school girls we could hurry up and order because I’m not sharing my food. Unless you wish to continue spilling each other's secrets for all of New York to hear.”

“Nope, we're done,” you say. You shoot her a grin in hopes to hide the fact that, yes, you will continue later.

River’s eyes shift to her husband, who avoids her stare.

“Yes, done-zo. No more arguing,” the Doctor affirms. He leaves out the “For now” at the end.

River knows the little omissions. She doesn't voice it, instead rolling her eyes.

— — —

Lunch went by smoothly, all things considered. Food was served, pizza was eaten, and stories passed the time. The Doctor retold your fantastical adventures with some minor exaggeration (leaving out the mishaps as well). River bragged about her many archeological discoveries and Indiana Jones-esque quests to find legendary artifacts.

As they retold, shared, and laughed at each other's fortune, you sat in your seat with sealed lips. As the time passed, the two of them leaned forward with biting grins. It was as if magnets in their chests pulled them nearer.

You stayed put because in place of a magnet was a lump of sorrow that was weighing you down. You watched their banter go on and on, leaving you out. Their words turned personal, intimate with inside jokes. It was clear that although River and the Doctor weren't exclusive by any means, their love runs deeper than most.

Their love for each other ran deeper, felt stronger only for them.

Not for you.

It hurts to watch them. It hurts to love them knowing they will never feel the same. You’re just a temporary blip in their long lives. They already have one another. Perfectly content with having you just as a companion. Because that’s all you are to them. In this moment, trapped in your bubble, you can see just how in love they are. In the middle of the table their hands are inches away from each other. The tips of their hands moving at a snail's pace towards the other, until they fold in where they meet. They don’t seem to notice the collision of hands, still conversing with one another nonchalantly.

It’s an innocent gesture. Sweet and pure with its intentions. Perfectly their hands fit, you don’t think they could form against yours. They were perfect for one another. Witty mouths, playful eyes, and brilliant minds.

Husband and wife. Vowed for one another.

Your eyes don’t leave their hands, transfixed by your own spell of deep longing.

The Doctor laughs at something River says. It’s a soft chuckle that pulls his lips and shakes his head. River stares unabashed with eyes so full of love that it tugs the strings in your chest.

It makes you sick.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurt out. You felt too close, too warm in the booth. You need to get away from them both.

The Doctor and River glance at one another. A pointed look that could hold entire conversations. Moments ticked by before the Doctor scoots out of his seat to let you pass. You all but sprinted out of the booth and made a bee-line to the bathroom.

It was a small, dank space with dark brown walls and one lighting fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The harsh lighting and tight space was far from cozy and inviting, but you are glad to have made it out. Your breathing became more shallow, tears started to burn into your eyes. You stare into the warped reflection in the mirror.

Tiredness smudges around your eyes. Your lower lip is cracked from the constant tugging and swiping of your tongue. Edges of your shirt wrinkled from how tightly you were holding onto it.

You don’t know how long you stared at yourself. Lines around your face blur as the tears start to flow. Down your face, into the valleys of cheeks, and into the porcelain sink. Another falls, then another, until you can’t help but sob into your hand.

— — —

Minutes tick by. The pizza being shared was now specks of crumbs.

Your companions sit idly, waiting for your return.

“Is it just me, or is (Y/N) a bit quiet today?” the Doctor mused, looking behind him to see the closed door of the bathroom. The red sticker on the lock gnaws at his mind.

River rubs her thumb over the Doctor’s hand, “Why don’t you ask her? She’s your companion.”

The Doctor turns back to her, “Why don’t you ask her? Everytime I see you two, you can’t keep your hands off one another.”

His words don’t have any malice. If anything, it was more of a jab at how horribly River hides her affinity towards you. Always doting on you with small trinkets and tight hugs. The soft drawl of her “darling” seemed much too intimate, too loving to be platonic.

River’s smile is sharp, her words quick, “Says the man who whimpers whenever she wears a tight dress.”

As quick as her words came, the image of you a week ago floods his mind.

Silk gloves, the shine of your skin, the color of your lipstick. It was a gala out in a different galaxy and the Doctor found it hard to resist your puppy eyes.

You begged him to dress up, to match with your dress. He mutters, whines, and begrudgingly says yes. Not because he didn’t want to go, but because he knew of the outcome of seeing your dress.

A deep blue, nearly black, with delicate lacing and gemstones. Simple, lavish, and complimented your body beautifully. The neckline perfectly snug against your chest, bodice hugging your waist, and when you turned around—

The whole of the Doctor’s face flushes a bright pink. He sputters, tone harsh, “I do not. It’s called being flustered. I’ll have you know that I—stop laughing.”

The Doctor’s plea falls on deaf ears as River let out a choked giggle. Her hand covers her mouth, but the edges of her smile still peek through. Seeing the Doctor flustered over a girl never fails to make her laugh.

“I was…only teasing!” she let out between giggles. The expression the Doctor made, all grumpy like a cat, made her sides hurt.

The laughter dies down. River dabs her eyes and massages her tired cheeks. The Doctor’s hearts swells at her joy, even if it was at his own expense.

The Doctor looks over his shoulder once more. Your door is still locked with no one in line. An uneasy feeling lodges in his chest. Your usual bright, happy attitude was strangely absent. A few times you chimed in, relaying your own version of a story the Doctor purposefully miscounted.

You weren’t sad, at least the Doctor didn’t seem to think so. Empty was a more appropriate word. Stuck in your own head thinking God knows what.

“Did you hold up your end?”

River’s questions shocked the Doctor out of his own thoughts.

The Doctor narrows his eyes, “I don’t recall making a bargain with you. I thought we agreed that if we were drunk that it doesn’t count.”

River rolls her eyes, “I’m talking about (Y/N). I told you to talk to her about…” she gestures to the space between them.

The Doctor mimics her movements, confusion still present in his face, “What’s this? What did I agree to?”

“Us! You agreed to talk to (Y/N) about us. You told me that you would drop hints about it,” River scans the Doctor’s face for any recognition. She sees the realization dawn on him, and the guilt settling in. River can’t help but curl her lips into a snarl, “You didn’t do it, did you?”

“How am I supposed to?” he threw his hands up in exasperation, “It’s bad enough as it is that I get all light-headed and fuzzy when she’s near me. You hear me? Light-headed and fuzzy. I didn’t think that was possible—no I was certain it wasn’t possible. At least with you, you made all the moves from the get-go. What if she doesn’t like me back?’

River shoved her leg under the table, earning a strained “ow” from the Doctor, “You stupid oaf! Of course she likes you! Smartest man in the universe, yet you couldn’t use your big brain of yours to notice her signals? A cyberman could figure it out for goodness sake.”

The Doctor slumped back into his chair, dumbfounded. He would be lying if he said he didn't notice how close you were with him. But you're close with everyone. Always friendly, open with your emotions.

River was the one to bring up a potential relationship. Nudging the Doctor towards you, trying to get him to open up. Every time he mentions anything romantic, it never seems to come out right. Words jumble in his head and his tongue knots in his mouth. On the off chance he does something “romantic”, you would always—unwaveringly—call him a friend. He has to pretend that the word doesn’t make his teeth grind against each other.

The Doctor swirls the colored straw in his glass of soda. The ice clinking against glass and the residual carbonation sizzling out.

Ice. Cracking. Sizzling out into the inky depths of the cola, almost black in the dim lighting.

Something in his brain clicks.

— — —

10 minutes passed before someone banged on the bathroom door.

“Can you hurry up man! You’re holdin’ up the line!” an angry, muffled voice yelled.

You furiously wiped your face, collecting all the remaining tears with paper towels. A couple splashes of water to soothe your puffy eyes before you unlock the bathroom. You were greeted with a cross, stout man with too much hair on his chest and not enough on his head. He grumbled something before making his way around you. No one else stood behind him.

The restaurant died down with only a few tables left occupied and the setting sun spilling through the windows. You drag yourself towards the booth the Doctor and River were situated in. Your steps get slower as the distance gets shorter. Dread builds into you; your mind conjures the image of their exclusion towards you.

Voices, familiar and warm, could be heard. They were more hushed than before, perhaps due to the lack of other customers to drown out their noise. As you round a corner, you see River and the Doctor hunched towards one another. You can only see River’s stern expression before her eyes immediately spot you. Relief sags her shoulders. At her expression, the Doctor whizzed around to greet you.

You stopped in front of them, seeing their ruffled clothes and fidgeting body language. You were gone for a few minutes, so why did they look…disheveled? River’s usual glossy curls were frizzy around the edges; wild strands sticking to and fro. The Doctor’s shirt looked wrinkled and bowtie skewed at an odd angle.

Did they…? No, you weren’t gone for that long.

“Sorry I took so long. Long line and no toilet paper,” you lie with a monotone voice. You didn’t put any energy into making it believable, hoping they would get the hint to not question you.

The Doctor sprang up from his seat with an expression that seemed much too happy to be innocent.

“Change of plans. River had just informed me that at this very moment, there is a comet passing by in—” he checks his watch, “ —Yosemite, California. Super beautiful, gorgeous color. Isn’t that right Riv?”

River nods, fast and eager, “Sure is, sweetie. I’ve had enough of the city, wouldn’t you say?”

Their odd behavior rang alarm bells in your mind. A prank? You doubt River would be the type to follow along with a malicious prank. The Doctor, however…

You let out an exhausted sigh, “Could this wait later? Tomorrow?”

“Nope! Can’t wait, lots to see!” came the Doctor’s reply.

The Doctor placed his hands on your shoulders to steer you to the front door. Your feet nearly tangle together, practically stumbling down the empty street with River not too far behind. You find your footing just fast enough so that you can speed walk without the Doctor trying to knock you over.

“Guys, slow down. Doctor, I can walk just fine y’know,” your shoe gets caught onto a piece of sidewalk, making you jump slightly. It doesn’t deter the Doctor, still hellbent on shoving you down the street. You turn to your side, eyeing River, “Could you please explain to me what’s going on? Why are you guys acting weird?”

River’s cherry red lips stretched to a smile (Did she just apply it?), “Spoilers.”

Your friends’ odd behaviors made you question if you’re being kidnapped by shapeshifters. Not an impossible scenario, but would explain why they’re suddenly so hyper. The Doctor made a sharp turn into an alley. You see the TARDIS with its vibrant blue against the red brick of the buildings beside it.

Something’s wrong.

“The TARDIS was parked a few streets down. Why is it here?” you questioned, distrust lacing your voice.

The Doctor sent a worried look towards River, who looked caught off-guard.

“We…thought it was best to move it closer so you didn’t have to walk far,” River explains. It comes out quickly. Too rushed and uneasy to make it truthful.

The Doctor gave a smile, too wide for your liking.

You cross your arms over your chest, “If you don’t spit it out already I’m not getting into the TARDIS. I’m honestly a bit freaked out right now.”

“We, uh…” the Doctor moves his hand, trying to come up with something, “We can’t tell you.”

You scoff, looking at River to see if she will spill.

River shrugs, “You’ll have to come inside the TARDIS to see.”

You wrestle with the idea of accusing them of being aliens with perception filters. It could explain their odd appearance and eagerness to get you to the TARDIS. Were the real Doctor and River Song trapped somewhere. Is this a trick of the mind?

The Doctor hand tugs yours. Secure and warm. His expression calms, “It’s a surprise,” he indulges.

River unlocks the TARDIS, holding the door open, “A big one.”

The Doctor and River take your hands, interlocking them. The action sends your mind blank. Soft, warm. They hold tightly, flushed against your clammy palms. Your heart stutters, finally registering what’s happening. You’ve held their hands many, many times. It wasn’t unusual to see you link hands with either of them.

This. It feels different.

They all but pulled you inside, the destination already on display and the engine ready to go.

— — —

Cool air kissed your face, greatly contrasting the warm New York temperature. Grass met your feet instead of concrete. Stillness you’d always associate with nature instead of the bustle of busy streets.

“Is the blindfold really necessary?”

You fight the instinct to rip the cloth off your face, but your hands are preoccupied with being held by your companions. River to your left, the Doctor on your right. Their other hands find the small of your back, guiding you forward.

“Almost there, darling,” River assures.

You bite back a groan. One foot in front of the other as best as you could. Each one was wobbly; unsure of debris blocking your path. The hands along your back tighten, trying to steer your uncoordinated body towards the destination.

You smell the familiar scent of firewood in the air before you hear the crackling.

The walking stops and hands leave your body. You hear the rustling of fabric and stray giggles of the Doctor. River hushes him.

Your fingers twitch at your side. The cotton of the Doctor’s bow tie is soft yet strangely secure on your head. You're trying to piece together what they’re trying to show you. Nothing seems to add up. Is it a holiday? A prank? Was it a birthday?

You hear footsteps and feel two hands on your shoulders.

“Keep your eyes close, yeah?” the Doctor whispers, tugging his bow tie off your eyes.

You sigh, “Doctor, what are you trying to do?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond. You don’t know his facial expression or any sort of clue towards his motivations. But you feel the gentle hold of his hand. Warm palms picking up your fingers, thumb tracing the peaks of your knuckles and the valleys of your skin.

Almost like…

“Ready,” River announced, a bit distant from where you are standing.

The Doctor leans close, his hair tickling your temple, “Open your eyes.”

It took you a few blinks to adjust your eyes. The inky darkness of night contrasts the warm, inviting fire light.

River stands next to a picnic blanket with the most lush pillows you’ve ever seen. Movie snacks are piled in the corner and in the middle a neatly wrapped box with an obnoxious bow. In front of the picnic blanket was a small, orange fire surrounded by a ring of rocks. The flames crackle loudly, providing warmth against the lowering temperature.

“What…How? Why?” Was all you could muster. You take a few steps closer, unsure of how to process this.

You focus on the box. Dark wrapping paper with shining gold stars to accent. The flickering fire made the glitter on the stars twinkle. The bow nearly swallowed the top of the box with ribbons cascading down. Your eyes flicker to the pile of snacks. Your favorite snacks. Even some ramen packets.

The Doctor spoke up, “Hope you’re not too full from the pizza. Though, come to think of it, we may have left the drinks back in the TARDIS. River suggested wine but I’m already buzzed from my own endorphins.” His words were a bit fast, almost nervous.

“But why? Is there something special about today?” you ask.

River smiled, “November, 1826.”

There’s something familiar about the date. It tickled your memory, but nothing clear.

“Our first adventure together. The three of us,” The Doctor clarified.

It felt as though the Doctor’s words swept all air from your lungs. Of course, how could you forget?

You are certain it was years ago. Keeping track of time on the TARDIS is finicky at best, but you felt the time pass as evident by the scars on your skin and fine lines dotting your face. You were still wide-eyed and naive, not yet comprehending the dangers of the universe. The Doctor was still odd and new to be around; still getting used to your presence at his side.

There was a galactic cruise ship, nearly swallowing Pluto in size. Parts of the memory are hazy in your mind. You forget if it’s you that urged the Doctor to go or the Doctor dragging you out. Whatever the case was, you found yourself onboard and immediately lost, tipsy from the wine given.

River found you then. It wasn’t ‘til later that you realized that River was actually seeking you out. In your eyes, it was the first time seeing her. To her, she had already had a tone of familiarity when your name rolled off her tongue.

Turns out River had organized a heist to return stolen goods that were aboard the cruise ship. Fighting and mishaps ensued until the Doctor managed to hoard the goods aboard the TARDIS and return them to their rightful spots.

At the end of it all, the three of you had just so happened to be above the Earth at the same time as Biela’s comet.

You remember your legs dangling off the edge of the TARDIS, dark splotches along your legs where bruises formed. The Doctor and River lean against the doorframe, silent in their awe. The first of many mishaps and adventures the three of you would create.

They took you to the exact day—the exact time—

“Why?” you whispered. Everything came rushing all at once. Stolen glances, longing stares, the uncomfortable beat of your heart. Memories of the three of you or just intimate moments with either of them. You swallow the lump in your throat, “I just…don’t understand.”

The Doctor took your hands once again. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“We love you (Y/N). For a while now, actually.”

His delicate words hit you like a gust of wind. Your head snapped up, eyes wide and fearful. The Doctor’s usual happy facade is gone, any humor wiped from the planes of his face entirely. His hands grip onto yours a bit harder, enough to ground you.

After a few moments, your brain finally stills. Anxiety still grips your muscles and tightens your chest, but you manage to sputter your thoughts out coherently.

“I love you guys too,” you grin against the onset of tears starting to fall. You didn’t move your hands from the Doctor’s, so you simply let them cascade down your face. You shakily inhaled, continuing, “For so long I thought you guys wouldn’t feel the same. Even now…”

Two hands appear at your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the salty tears. The Doctor smiles and you don’t mistake the glisten in his eyes as well.

You turn towards River who stands near the blankets with the present pressed tightly against herself. The fire gives her golden hair a bright orange hue, surrounding her with a divine glow. The way she looks at you made your skin flushed; so full of adoration, as if you were the most breath-taking sight.

Stepping towards the blond with the Doctor, you try to meet her gaze head-on. You stopped once you got close enough to see the dilation of her eyes. For a second a flicker of something else flashed in her green eyes.

“Breathe, darling,” she teased. At her command, you let out the breath you were holding. She hands you the box, never breaking eye-contact, “Consider it an anniversary gift.”

The choice of words makes your eyes widen. The box seemed a bit hefty in your hands. You gave it an experimental shake, feeling something large and solid moving. You gripped the end of the ribbon and gave it a tug. Silky ribbon buckled, folding into itself until it completely unraveled and slipped from the box. Pulling open the top you saw a large blue book nestled inside.

TARDIS blue, you noted.

River takes the empty box while the Doctor ushered you onto the picnic blanket. There were no words embellished that gave any indication as to what the book was about. Flipping the cover open, you were met with a mostly blank page, save for the text stamped in the middle:

“For the love of our many lives. A companion, friend, and most importantly, the reason the Universe doesn’t seem so cold.”

Tears nearly blurred your vision, but you managed to wipe them away to flip to the next page.

A collage of photos filled the pages. Some were candid, others in black in white, most of them had you in them. There were pictures you had captured on an old film camera you snagged when you were stuck in the 70s. You were quite surprised to see snapshots of you doing mundane activities. Your head was turned away from the lens, completely focused on some task in front of you. There were a few pictures with you and River and some with all three of you.

Years of memories stored in the pages of the book. Some far back to the earliest days of your travels.

The rest of the night blurred into happy tears and hearty laughs. You snuggled between the two Time Lords flipping through the photo album filled with your fondest memories.

The insecurities felt in the cramped bathroom in the middle of New York seemed so far away. Years of anxiety curdling in your stomach finally bloomed into something sweet. They loved you. They wanted you. They planned everything out for you. You felt it in their gaze, their warm touches.

“Tonight,” the Doctor whispered, “It’s all about you.”

As Biela made her visit, shining brightly amongst the twinkling stars, you realized that somewhere out in the sky, your past selves were observing the same scene.

Staring out into the vast expanse of space, you hoped the love that swelled your heart could be felt millions of miles away. That your shared laughter transcended the atmosphere and carried to the passengers of the TARDIS floating above Earth.

You hoped that somewhere out there, your future selves are looking over, sharing this experience across time and space.

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