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messrmoonyy · 11 days

Text

- The Forbidden Fruit

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC

A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )

AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl.

Unfortunately you were no different.

In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you.

Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover.

But no.

Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel.

He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked.

And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday.

Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde.

In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest.

But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin.

Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either.

And today was no different.

“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed.

He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others.

You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return.

“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s.

“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling.

“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”

“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way.

But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard.

He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better.

‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘

He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself.

He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh.

“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “

You.

He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you.

“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks.

He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch.

And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away.

But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors.

“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you.

Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men.

“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged.

“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “

“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “

You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours.

“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company.

You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both.

“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods.

“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little.

“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “

“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away.

“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “

“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another.

“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette.

“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you.

Someone was finally listening.

“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were.

He blamed it on his fatigue.

“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been.

“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “

He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked.

“ Really? “

“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”

“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours.

“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded.

“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “

“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded.

“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen.

The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him.

He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done.

“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were.

Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman.

“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank.

“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “

Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.

Oh he was such a fool.

“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little.

“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “

His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.

“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.

You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it.

“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “

“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest. His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment.

How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you.

“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “

“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again.

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice.

He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more.

Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating.

Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his.

“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless.

“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face.

“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “

He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you.

You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which.

You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain.

But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch.

He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought.

“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt.

He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night.

“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly.

“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants.

“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates.

He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous.

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon.

He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted.

“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough.

“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now.

Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t.

“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “

“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you.

You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water.

“ well ain’t you a sight “

Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch.

He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them.

“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care.

“ I ain’t like that “

“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants.

He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison.

“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.

“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved.

“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw.

“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “

His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were.

“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it.

But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did.

“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make.

“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance.

“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle

“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “

“ no “

“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked.

“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him.

“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again.

You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you.

And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to.

“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs.

“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you.

He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other.

“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate.

“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew.

But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted.

And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired.

The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it.

You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him.

His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined.

He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips.

“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first.

He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars.

The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well.

Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair.

“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks.

“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “

He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once.

Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell.

“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “

He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra.

And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.

“ Arthur- “

Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little.

He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers.

He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted.

“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips.

Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly.

“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “

“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.

He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it.

But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back.

“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “

“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him.

You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “

He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily.

“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh.

“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might.

“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch.

He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm.

“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you.

“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing.

“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed.

He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him.

“ god- oh god “

“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.

“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “

He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again.

If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there.

But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide.

He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it.

“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up.

“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours.

“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “

“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you.

He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep.

“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked.

“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “

“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word.

“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “

Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans.

He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.

He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever.

And then he came to his senses.

“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist.

“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours.

“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more.

“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers.

After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips.

He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least.

“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “

“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more.

“ you know, i might just take you up on that “

He sincerely hoped you would.

#ask and ye shall receive #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #x you #background Dutch van der Linde x reader #fluff #dutch van der linde #Arthur Morgan smut #john marston #javier escuella #Sadie Adler #arthur morgan rdr2 #van der linde gang

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ale-wosofan · 2 months

Text

broken

Alexia x R

R is struggling but she’s not sure why or how to fix it. Will she finally be honest with her girlfriend about how she’s feeling?

warnings: little bit of angst (+fluff), implied adhd

a/n: English is not my first language (I’m aware how much of a cliché that is) so there might be some mistakes; feel free to correct them :) Here I talk about my personal experience with adhd, please don’t use this to self-diagnose, as it is not the same for everyone. Enjoy!

-----

The first time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’re at home with your girlfriend.

“Hey, princesa. Have you seen that there’s a new season of that TV show you like?” Alexia asks you once you’ve sat down on the sofa.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” you shrug settling on top of your girlfriend and kissing her cheek.

Alexia looks a little surprised at your answer but starts running her hands up and down your back nonetheless.

“How come? I thought you said it was, and I’m quoting you, the best show you’ve ever seen.”

But you don’t answer. You don’t really know what happened, you’re just not that passionate about that particular show anymore. You had been interested for a few months; had watched all the interviews, bloopers, deleted scenes, but now you just didn’t like it as much anymore. You’ve had a few intense months thinking and talking about the show almost every minute of every day so you probably just need time away from it now that all that initial intensity has worn off.

You don’t realise how much time you’ve been quiet until Alexia speaks again.

“Amor?” you hum in acknowledgement urging her to continue “are you okay?”

“Yeah, just got a little distracted,” you answer shuffling around a little bit trying to get comfortable.

After a couple of minutes moving around you can’t seem to settle. You sigh and sit up feeling Alexia’s eyes on you the entire time.

“So, have you finished the work you had to do?” your girlfriend asks while putting her feet on your lap.

“No, not yet. But I really needed a break.”

Alexia looks up at you surprised.

“¿De verdad? I thought it was supposed to be something easy. You’ve been working for almost two hours.”

You frown. There’s no way it’s been two hours, right? That can’t be possible. But when you look at your watch you realise that it really has been two hours. You have spent all that time in your office and haven’t been able to finish a relatively simple task.

“Today is not my day, I guess,” you say rubbing your hands on your face with frustration “I’m a little distracted today, I can’t seem to concentrate on anything.”

But it wasn’t just today, and you knew that. It was something that had been going on for a while. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it had started to happen, but it got bad after the quarantine. You were on your second year of college when the pandemic occurred. You spent a few months studying online, a few months that felt like a bliss to you despite everything that was happening in the world. But you had to come back to class eventually. And it was fine; until it wasn’t. Every time you tried to pay attention to class you got distracted and couldn’t focus on what the teachers were saying for more than a few minutes at a time. When you had projects to do you couldn’t bring yourself to work on them and waited until the last day to get them done. Studying suddenly became a torture since you couldn’t concentrate for long. What once used to take you ten minutes, now it took an hour.

And the thing is you still don’t understand why. You don’t know what’s wrong with you now that wasn’t before. It hadn’t really bothered you before, you’d been able to deal with it for some time. But now it feels like it just keeps getting worse with each passing day. Deep down you know you need help, and you know you should talk to someone about this, but you don’t feel ready to. Not yet.

“How about you keep working on it tomorrow? And we can relax for the rest of the say. We can have a nice bath and then order some food. How does that sound?”

You smile at your girlfriend. How did you ever get so lucky?

“Yeah, I’d really like that.”

-----

The second time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, Alexia had just come home from training.

When you hear the door front open and your girlfriend call out for you, you’re lying on your bed scrolling through social media.

You get up and go say hello to her.

“Hi, baby,” you greet her opening your arms for a hug.

“Hola, mi amor.”

She takes a step back from your embrace, places her hands on your cheeks and kisses you passionately. And just as quickly as it had started she was pulling away.

“Hi,” you repeat feeling yourself blush.

“Hi,” your girlfriend answers kissing your forehead “I’m going to take a shower.”

You blink slowly taking a few seconds to get yourself together, being quickly interrupted by Alexia calling your name from the bedroom.

You make your way there but stop in your tracks in the door frame when you realise why your girlfriend had called for you.

“Princesa, what happened here?”

You give her a smile that you’re pretty sure turns out looking more like a grimace.

“Okay so, I wanted to rearrange some of the books-”

“Again?”

“-but then I wasn’t sure if I wanted to organize them by colour or by genre, so I decided to watch a video to decide. But then I got distracted by another video and kind of forgot what I was doing in the first place, so I just laid down and waited for you to come home,” you answer honestly giving your girlfriend a sheepish smile.

Alexia looks at you in deep thought.

“Okay, how about this? I take a shower and get into some comfortable clothes and once I’m done I’ll help you with all this.”

You sometimes wonder how someone so perfect like the woman in front of you exists.

“Or, we could shower together and then work on the bookshelf together as well,” you suggest smirking.

Your girlfriends lets out a chuckle and kisses your cheek.

“Nice try, but if we do that we might never be able to come out of the shower.”

Once your girlfriend is out of sight you take a look at all the books splattered around the room. The state of the place is certainly overwhelming and it just stresses you out more. Where are you supposed to start?

You sigh and sit down on the bed.

You should’ve finished this before Alexia got here. You’d had more than enough time to do it, so why couldn’t you just focus on your task like everyone else instead of getting distracted with everything? Now your girlfriend had to help you out instead of resting after the long day she probably had.

You rub your hands on your face in frustration. It really isn’t supposed to be that hard right?

“Yeah, I’m just a little lazy sometimes,” you whisper to no one in particular before getting up.

-----

The third time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’ve just gotten to your house from work.

When you arrive home you’re exhausted.

Stepping into the house the first thing you notice is the Spanish music playing in the background and the smell of your favourite meal being cooked.

Walking into the kitchen you are welcomed by the sight of your girlfriend wearing one of your old shirts dancing and cooking.

“Hi, love.”

She turns around at the sound of your voice and looks at you with a lovesick smile.

“Hola, princesa,” she quickly answers opening her arms for you to hug her, which you happily do “How was your day?”

You step out of her embrace and give her a kiss before making a face.

“It could’ve been better,” you tell her honestly.

You sit in one of the stools while your girlfriend resumes her cooking duties keeping an eye on you the whole time.

“¿Por qué? Did anything happen?”

“No, nothing in particular,” you pause, deciding whether or not to continue “Although there’s a new project I’ve been working on, which is obviously really exciting, but I’ve spent all morning busy with it; emailing people, setting the different dates for it, planning meetings and all that.”

Alexia completely turns around to look at you and nods urging you to keep talking.

“I just-” you sigh frustrated “I suddenly got hungry, right? And I looked at the time and realised that it was already pretty late and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so I went to grab a sandwich to the shop nearby. Then, on the way back I went past that bookstore I really like so I decided to have a look around for a bit to relax, and I ended up buying that book I told you came out yesterday.”

Your girlfriend’s frown deepens.

“Isn’t that a sequel to a book you haven’t read yet?”

“Yes,” you whisper a little embarrassed “I know it was a stupid decision, but I really wanted to buy it in that moment. Then I just felt bad because I had spent money on something I don’t even know if I’ll like.”

You feel yourself blush at the admission and hide your face in your hands.

“Hey,” you hear your girlfriend quietly say in your ear while she wraps her arms around your waist “There’s really no need to be embarrassed, ¿vale? You bought something you wanted after having a fairly stressful day at work. I promise you it’s not the end of the world, mi amor.”

With each word she says you begin to slowly relax in her arms.

You turn around and take her face in your hands.

“How do you always know what to say?”

“Because I love you and I know you better than I know myself,” she answers placing a kiss in your nose “Now you’re going to take a shower, we’re going to have dinner and then we’re gonna cuddle while watching a film. Tomorrow will be a better day, princesa, I promise.”

You nod although you don’t fully believe it.

-----

When you finally lay down to watch TV with your girlfriend you can’t seem to settle. Your mind is working really fast and you’re starting to get a little bit restless.

You haven’t really thought about it until now, but what if there is something actually wrong with you? What if it isn’t just a bad day? What if all the sleepless nights, the impulsivity, the difficulty staying focused for too long and the racing thoughts are all somehow connected? There’s no way, you or someone around you would’ve realised sooner. Right?

You feel Alexia’s eyes on you when you stop the show you’re watching.

You try not to think about it too much and begin to speak.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“What do you mean?” she asks confused.

“Never mind. Just ignore what I’ve said,” you answer shaking your head and laying down on top of your girlfriend again.

“Hey, no. None of that,” Alexia sits up with you in her lap and takes your face on her hands “What’s going on? Talk to me, please,” she begs worried.

Looking at her you realise that this is your partner, the person you’re building your future with. You are aware this is a tough thing to talk to her about but there’s no one you trust more in this world. She is your home.

“I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately, like my mind is always racing and I can't seem to focus on anything for long. I mean, it actually started a while ago, but it’s just been getting worse. I’m not sure how to explain it,” you confess.

Your girlfriend takes both of your hands and smiles encouragingly at you.

“Try. I’m listening and whatever it is I’m here for you, okay? Always, te lo prometo.”

“Okay, so, have you notice how I always seem to jump from one thing to another without actually finishing anything? I've tried making to-do lists and setting reminders, but nothing seems to work. And that’s just one of the things, you know? But it’s also not being able to sit still for more than five minutes and acting always so impulsive. And it's starting to affect everything I do. I just-” you take a deep breath “I’m always so frustrated. I just want to be able to be like everyone else, but it's like my brain is wired differently.”

“How long has this been going on?” Alexia asks concerned.

“I don’t know. A few months, I think.”

Your girlfriend lets go of your hands and holds your face instead making you look into her eyes.

“Mi amor, listen to me. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Yes, your brain may work a little bit different but that doesn’t mean you’re stupid or broken, ¿vale? It's okay to feel overwhelmed, and it's good that you're talking about it. But I really need you to understand that. What do you want to do now?”

“I’m not sure, I wasn’t even planning on telling you to be honest,” you admit feeling yourself blushing.

“Maybe it could be helpful to talk to a professional about all of this?” Alexia suggest “Whatever you feel comfortable doing.”

You shrug and hide your face on her neck.

“Yeah, I guess. You promise me you’re not going anywhere?”

Your girlfriend kisses your forehead before answering.

“I'm here for you no matter what, we will figure this out. Thank you for sharing this with me, princesa.”

“Thank you for listening to me,” you whisper just for the two of you “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-----

Maybe I'll write a sequel to this but I'm not really sure. Let me know what you think! <3

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso #woso angst #woso blurbs #woso couples #woso drama #woso fluff #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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joeloverture · 3 months

Text

sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck.

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard.

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin’ with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste.

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up.

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat.

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #✏️ game club

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itsthewritergal · 2 months

Text

One Week - B.Barnes x reader

PART 1

PART 3

Here is part two my loves, there will be a final 3rd part,

TW: suicide, death, character death, breakup, general sadness, suicide notes, swearing.

(also I won't be making a taglist for the next part so please turn notifs on so you don't miss it!)

Bucky couldn’t watch, he had resulted to cleaning the blood from between the joints on his metal hand. The quinjet hummed slowly, providing little comfort to Bucky’s swirling thoughts. Steve and Wanda were talking quietly, not quietly enough for Bucky’s liking.

“Did you read yours?” Steve asked, gesturing to the letter that Wanda had clutched in her hand

“No, I won’t. She wrote it for me to read when she wasn’t here. She is here. I don’t need to read it” Wanda said sadly, her letter was still sealed in the envelope with her name neatly swirled on the front. Her eyes fell on Y/N’s sleeping frame, Tony had taken the decision to sedate her, she had refused to be taken out of the cell, still clutching desperately to the hope of death. They had all tried their hardest to level with her, but nothing worked, everyone had tried their best, everyone except Bucky. He couldn’t find a single word to say to her as she was desperately asking everyone to kill her.

“We will be landing at the compound in ten minutes” Tony said to nobody in particular but everyone stopped and listened

“I think we should take her to a hospital” Nat said calmly, she was too calm for Bucky’s liking. He couldn’t understand how she wasn’t tearing herself apart for letting Y/N get to this state.

“She needs to be at home” Tony said firmly

“The compound isn’t her home” Nat answered curtly

“It used to be” Wanda mused, thinking of the days that Y/N had spent wandering around the compound as she watched Bucky training, or cooking together, it used to be her home.

“It isn’t now” Clint agreed with Nat, “A few months ago I would have said the same Tony, but now, well now she needs to be at a hospital. She needs to be given the choice to come back with us”

“Cap?” Tony asked,

“I agree” Steve said,

“So do I” Sam added,

Bucky stayed silent.

“Fine, I’ll reroute to the hospital” Tony said with a sigh.

“Mr Stark, Dr Cho told me you were on your way, I’m Doctor Simmonds, I’ll be treating Y/N today,” A doctor said meeting Tony at the entrance door to the Quinjet,

“You need to treat this girl as though she’s one of ours, understand?” Tony said firmly,

“I understand” He said simply following a few nurses as they placed Y/N onto a stretcher and carried her into the hospital, “Can you tell me the extent of her injuries?” He asked

“We haven’t examined her” Nat interrupted, “She was held for around 23 hours, we are unsure of what happened.”

“I understand, now if you could all wait outside. I’m going to examine her and let you know what I’ve found” He said as he disappeared behind a closed door that Y/N was lying behind.

“We should have gone in with her” Steve said,

“He needs to do his job, and we need to wait” Wanda softly said, there was a nervous edge to her words, Bucky picked up on it.

“Coffee anyone?” Nat suggested, a few nodded, “Bucky come help me” She said

“You can handle it” Bucky said his gaze still on the floor

“Now Bucky” Nat left no room for argument and Bucky followed her silently through the halls. “You need to tell me what happened” She said firmly

“I don’t know what you mean” Bucky replied

“When you broke up, what the hell happened?” Nat said, her eyes flaming with something Bucky didn’t want to deal with

“We broke up” he said bluntly “There isn’t anything else to say”

“You’ve been seeing other people whilst she’s been planning her suicide” She whispered fiercely, “What the hell did you do to her?” It was one of the only times Bucky had seen Nat loose her cool in such a dramatic way,

“Nothing happened” He reiterated simply

“Don’t be that guy” nat snapped, “Five coffee’s please, black, double shot in all of them” She said to the girl stood starstruck behind the counter

“Look, nothing happened” Bucky said “We split”

“Who made the decision?”

“I did” he replied, his eyes fixating on his boots once more,

“Why?”

“We didn’t work together, do you need a full rundown on my life?” He snapped louder than he wanted,

“Just on your breakup” Nat replied quickly, “Why didn’t you work?”

“I couldn’t do it, she was too much.” He didn’t mean it, he didn’t know how he could explain it in any other way to Nat

“Too much how?”

“Here you are” the girl behind the counter placed the coffees down, Nat muttered a thank you.

“I like my life, I like being alone. I enjoy coming home alone. I don’t need anyone else in my life to look after,” He snapped,

“You’re not telling the truth” Nat whispered “You forget, I used to be the best interrogator that SHIELD had ever seen. I see through you Bucky, and whatever you did to hurt that girl—”

“I told her I didn’t love her,” he whispered “I told her she was too much for me. Told her that she was naive and young and stupid. I said that I didn’t want to deal with her or look after her or have to love her”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I was scared, she is good. She is innocent, and kind, and gentle, and she kissed me as if I was good too. I’m not. So I ended things, and I said things that I won’t ever repeat because the words already haunt me enough” he sighed “I dated those girls after her because they weren’t good people, or nice people, I suited them better, there wasn’t anything to ruin. With Y/N, I was killing her slowly and she didn’t even know it” Bucky said, his chest heaving once he finished ,

“Bucky” Nat started,

“I needed her to hate me” He said softly,

“You failed” Tony said from behind him, “I came to help get the coffee” He explained once Nat gave him a confused look “She doesn’t hate you, she hates herself. I dread to think what she’s been thinking of herself the past few months because of you”

“Tony enough” Nat stopped him

“Y/N is lying in a hospital bed sedated because he was a coward” Tony snapped, “When she wakes up, you best hope that she forgives you, because if there’s a shred of anything other than forgiveness in her words I will kill you” He said turning and walking away. His words were calm, and collected, Bucky knew he was sincere. It should have scared him, but it didn’t.

“Mr Stark?” Dr Simmonds asked coming out of Y/N’s room,

“How is she?” Tony stood up from the uncomfortable plastic chair,

“We need to admit her to an inpatient facility” His voice made Bucky’s blood run cold, “In order to do this I need a signature from her next of kin” he continued to explain, “I reached out to her sister, who is on file as her next of kin, except it seems that she passed away a few months back and I need to know if there are any other living relatives for me to contact for permission” The room went silent,

“Her sister died?” Wanda parroted

“According to our records around ten months ago” Dr Simmonds said,

“She doesn’t have any other family, her parents died when she was little and her sister was all she had left” Bucky said stoically

“This isn’t the answer you’re going to want to hear but without a next of kin I can’t admit her” Dr Simmonds explained softly

“We can look after her at the compound” Tony said,

“Tony, we can’t make a decision like that without talking to her” Steve cut in.

“I agree with the Captain, Mr Stark. She’s still drowsy from the sedation but uprooting her in the state she’s in isn’t a good idea”

“What state is she in?” Nat asked

“She’s malnourished, dehydrated, exhausted. Nothing physically wrong apart from a few minor lacerations and bruising, but she’s not been taking care of herself. If you hadn’t told me she’d only been taken for 24 hours I’d have guessed it would have been at least 3 months” He explained

“She’s depressed” Tony muttered softly

“Without talking to her at length I can’t make that diagnosis, she’s clearly grieving her sister. Amongst other things but I don’t know what those are yet. I’ve asked for psych to come and give her a full examination just so we know what we are dealing with. But without a next of kin, my hands are tied”

“What about an old next of kin?” Bucky asked slowly,

“Y/N would have to sign off on it, are you a past next of kin for her?” The Dr asked, eyeing Bucky with a look of distain, the pieces clicking into place slowly. Bucky nodded, “I’d have to check with the board” The Dr explained.

“Can we see her?” Wanda asked changing the subject quickly.

“I will ask her, but I’m not promising anything” Dr Simmonds said with a nod, retuning back behind the closed door.

The next few minutes were painful, nobody dared to sit down in case Y/N asked to see them. Bucky could hear muffled voices behind the door and it killed him that Y/N was so close but he couldn’t reach her, he wouldn’t dare to reach her in case of anything making her worse.

“Mr Stark” Dr Simmonds said stepping out the room, “She has agreed to see you”

Tony didn’t say a word and instead followed the doctor through the door and into the room. Y/N was sat in bed, restraints lay idle on the bed, untied, Tony’s eyes went straight to them.

“They took them off about an hour ago” She said quietly, knowing what Tony was thinking.

“How are you feeling?” He asked carefully sitting in a plastic chair that had been placed at her bedside,

“I’m sorry” She said, calmly.

“None of that” Tony said firmly, patting her hand comfortingly

“I didn’t want anyone to know, I just needed it to be over” She said “And then they came and it seemed like the best way out. I’m sorry I put you through all that”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Tony said “Let me help you, please?”

“I’ve spoken to the doctor, lots of doctors and I’m okay. Really. I’m okay” She promised sincerely

“They want to admit you” Tony said slowly, watching as Y/N’s face fell,

“They said”

“They can’t though, because of your next of kin. They need a signature and it—”

“She’s dead” Y/N bluntly whispered

“I would like for you to come and live at the compound for the next few weeks, just until you get back on your feet” He said softly

“I won’t put you or anyone else through that”

“You mean Bucky” Tony said, he knew it was risky to bring him up but he needed to know how best to help Y/N.

Y/N’s eyes glazed over sadly, and she pulled her knees up to her chest.

“This isn’t his fault. Believe it or not the breakup was actually probably the least bad thing that happened this year” She said with a half hearted chuckle,

“I’m sorry, I should have been there for you” Tony said, “everyone is here to help. Just let us look after you for a week. That’s all”

“I promise I’m okay”

“I know you are, I need to do this for me, let me help” Tony said, it was a lie. He needed to know that Y/N was somewhere safe and once she was there for a week he could convince her to stay longer, he was sure of it.

“One week”

“One week” Tony nodded.

Tony had instructed Wanda, Bucky and Steve to set up a room for Y/N whilst he filled out some paperwork for Y/N.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked Bucky as they walked through the empty compound, towards one of the guest rooms,

“I don’t think you should be asking me that” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the ground. His shoulders hunched,

“This is as hard on you as it is on her” Wanda said

“It’s not, I never tried to end my life. I made her do that. It was my words that forced her into that position” Bucky said, his filter had gone, he was bleeding raw emotions onto the floor of the compound and he couldn’t stop.

“That wasn’t your fault, you can’t stay with someone just in case they get depressed when you leave. That’s basically blackmail” Steve said

“She didn’t deserve this. I promised her I’d be with her for the rest of her life. I swore she’d never be alone again and then I left. I’m no better than anyone else in her life”

“She doesn’t hate you” Wanda said,

“What?” Bucky asked,

“I read the letter, I didn’t think I was going to but I couldn’t stop myself” Wanda said pulling it out of her pocket “but she told me that it wasn’t your fault”

“Stop” Bucky said,

“Bucky she didn’t do it because of you” Wanda said

“She needs some plants in here” Bucky said firmly as they opened up the door to Y/N’s new room,

“Buck” Steve started

“And her fairy lights, on the ceiling, she likes them to look like stars” Bucky continued. “We don’t have very long, we need to get started”

taglist

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#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes smut

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parkerslatte · 2 months

Text

Overlooked | Part Five

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: The day has arrived for Y/N and Eris to get married and she gets nervous that her sisters won’t show up.

A/N: I have decided to write an epilogue to this series and that will hopefully be posted soon :)

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

•••

The day began with Y/N waking up early, not from excitement but from nervousness. She had reluctantly left the warmth of Eris’s arms and sat in front of her dresser. It was her wedding day, Y/N knew that she should be over the moon but the overwhelming feeling of dread threatened to take over.

When Y/N pictured her wedding when she was younger, she always imagined her three younger sisters walking down the aisle before her before she stepped out in her magnificent dress prepared to greet her soon to be husband. Now she was not even sure her sisters would show up for her wedding.

“What are you doing over here?” Eris’s sleepy voice interrupted her thoughts. “We still have a few hours in bed before we need to wake.”

“You can go back to bed,” Y/N said. “I can’t really sleep.”

“You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?” Eris asked, his tone teasing but once he caught a glimpse of Y/N’s saddened expression, his smile dropped. “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Of course I do!” Y/N exclaimed. “I just…it’s just hard. Not knowing if my sisters are going to show up.” Eris perched himself on the stool next to Y/N, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep the both of them on it. “I am marrying the love of my life, I should be happy but if I walk down that aisle and see that they aren’t there, I will feel…betrayed, if that is even the right word for it. I know that we were not the closest but they are still my sisters. We should always stand by one another.”

Eris pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “My dear, if they don’t show up, then it's a huge reflection on them and their personalities. If they do not show up then they do not deserve your love. Because I know how much you love and I have seen how it sometimes hurts you.”

Y/N allowed her head to fall upon his shoulder. “I just really want them there, Eris.”

“From your last conversation, do you believe they will?” Eris questioned.

“I honestly do not know,” Y/N exhaled. “My sisters seemed eager to get back to the Night Court so I can only hope that they talked to the others about the conversation we had, but I know how easily both Feyre and Nesta can be distracted by Rhys and Cassian. When they are around, it is as if I am not there.”

“What of Elain?” Eris asked.

Y/N sighed. “It’s more complicated with her. I know that she holds some attraction to Azriel but I do know that she has been in contact with Lucien these past few weeks.”

“How did you know that?” Eris asked.

“While Lucien was here two weeks ago, a letter came for him but was accidentally delivered to me accidently. I would recognise my sister’s handwriting anywhere,” Y/N said. “To be honest, even if it is just Elain that shows up, I will be more than happy about that.”

“Even if they don’t show up, you are surrounded by people who love you,” Eris said.

“And people who hate me,” Y/N said bitterly. “There are still people who work in this palace that cannot abide my presence, Eris.”

“And I am working on removing them–”

“And it is taking you too long!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am never allowed in any of the meetings because you won’t allow it!”

Eris stilled and Y/N regretted her words instantly. “Eris, I did not mean that at all. I am so sorry.”

“I know,” Eris said, his voice saddened. “And you don’t need to apologise because it is true. I could have gotten rid of those particular advisors months ago but I haven’t.”

“No, Eris, don’t do that,” Y/N said. “Don’t sit there and find excuses for my words. I shouldn’t have snapped at you at all, my love. I know you want to avoid an internal war within the court.”

At the term of endearment, Eris seemed to relax slightly. “You don’t need to apologise for snapping at me, Y/N. Of course I want you in those meetings, I cannot speak your ideas as eloquently as you. But I don’t wish to see the sneers and glares sent your way every single time you walk through those doors to the meeting room. Keeping you away is not something I want to do. It only reminds me of my father.”

Y/N lightly kissed his bare shoulder. “You are nothing like your father, Eris.”

“But leaving you out of court matters makes me seem like it,” Eris replied. “He never allowed my mother in any meetings either.”

“Unlike him, you allow me to have my opinions and words heard,” Y/N tried to reason with her mate.

“But through my voice, not yours,” Eris replied.

“It doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I know I am making a change in this court. I know I am helping those in need and pathing the way for a better life for everyone in this court.” Y/N cupped his cheek. The stubble was gone but Y/N missed it, she had grown quite attached to it.

“The moment you become my wife, I will fire those advisors immediately,” Eris said.

“What about the possibilities of an internal war?” Y/N asked.

“If that does happen, I have enough resources and allies that will win it for us in no time. But I cannot sit here a moment longer and take credit for the large changes happening in court when it is all you,” Eris said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Eris I can’t let you risk a war for me,” Y/N said. “I am perfectly content to wait.”

“Y/N, you must already know that I would crawl to the ends of the earth for you, a simple war is not going to stop me from having your voice heard,” Eris tenderly kissed her palm. “You must know how much I love and adore you.”

“I know, Eris,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she leaned her forehead against Eris’s.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Eris suggested. “We still have a couple of hours before we need to wake.”

And that is exactly what the pair did. Y/N fit perfectly within Eris’s arms, her back pressed tightly against his chest. His scent surrounded her and Y/N found that every worry seemed to drift away, even if she knew it would only be for a couple of hours. With that, Y/N managed to drift off to a peaceful sleep.

***

With her hair styled and her dress on, Y/N felt like the bride she had always imagined to be. There were multiple times where she had nearly cried off the colouring around her eyes. Now as she stood behind the doors, her heart hammered in her chest. She had not seen Eris since he was whisked out of their bedroom and into his own dressing room that morning. The only communication they had since then was the waves of love sent down the bond.

But now, Y/N could feel Eris’s nervousness and she could feel his.

There was nothing to be nervous about and Y/N knew that. She was marrying the love of her and life and having her dream wedding. Nothing would ever rival this day, perhaps possibly their mating ceremony, but even that hadn’t been as grand of a scale as this.

“Are you ready, High Lady?” One of the maids asked, a bright smile on her face.

Y/N let out a long breath. “I am.”

The maid smiled and straightened out her veil. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, looking down at her dress once more.

The grand doors opened and the musicians immediately began playing. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from tearing up at the song. It was the same song that they shared their first ever dance to the night they met.

Y/N’s eyes met Eris’s and her chest felt tighter. He was dressed in a suit similar gold to hers and had splashes of the gold dusting her eyes on his. She gasped at the sight of him, she had never seen him look so beautiful before.

Even from the opposite end of the aisle, she could see the way he tried to hold in his tears. Her soul sang to his as she took her first few steps down the aisle. That invisible thread seemed to pull her toward him and she would gladly follow wherever he was. The male standing at the end of the aisle was the furthest thing from how others described him. He was loving and protective and the most incredible being Y/N had ever met. She was lucky to hold him in her arms every night.

The closer Y/N got to Eris, she broke eye contact for the briefest moment to look around at all of the people surrounding her. Many were from other courts yet the hall was mostly filled with commoners from the Autumn Court. Y/N had invited the farmers, bakers and business owners. Families with children and without. This was not just a day to celebrate her and Eris, it was to celebrate the court itself and the positive changes it was making.

Who she didn’t see however was her sisters. Her heart sank as the smile wavered on her face but once her eyes met Eris’s once more he nodded his head toward the back of the hall. Somewhere where Y/N had not even glanced at in the moments she began to walk down the aisle.

There were her sisters. Each smiling as she walked down the aisle, Nyx in Feyre’s arms. Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel all sat beside them. Y/N locked eyes with each of her sisters and the smile on her face shined bright once more.

A small tap against her shields had Y/N immedietly bringing them down.

You look beautiful, Feyre said.

Thank you for coming, Y/N said.

We wouldn’t miss this, Feyre replied and she was gone from her mind.

Y/N’s gaze lingered on her three sisters for a brief moment longer before she turned back to Eris. Y/N knew that she had to walk in pace to the music but in those last few feet she didn’t care. She passed her boquet to a Day Court official sitting on the end of the row and lifted up the front of her skirt as she ran to Eris.

Eris only opened his arms as she flung her arms around him.

“You are stunning,” Eris mumbled into her ear.

Y/N didn’t respond as she took a step back as Eris took her hands in his. As they locked eyes, Eris finally allowed a singular tear to fall down his cheek. Y/N released her fans from his hold and wiped it away.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eris whispered.

“Me neither,” Y/N replied, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles tenderly.

Both Y/N and Eris seemed to be in their own small world when the ceremony began. Everything around them seemed to melt away until the two of them stood alone in the hall together. Eris’s hand shook as he held onto hers, it reminded Y/N of their mating ceremony, he was nervous then too. A small squeeze of reassurance was all it took to subside the shaking. A reminder to Eris that he was present and the whole spectacle was just a figment of his imagination.

“And now the vows,” the officiator announced.

The wedding was more accustomed to a human wedding ceremony with elements of a fae ceremony sprinkled in to make it official. Eris wanted to replicate her dream wedding and he had done it to perfection. It was as if Y/N stepped out of her own daydream.

Eris let out a shaky breath before speaking. “Y/N, I will begin by saying that you are the love of my life. A love that I never thought I deserved.”

Eris took another breath and closed his eyes, as if he were begging the tears to stay at bay. “I will keep this short because you already know how much I adore and love you but I want you to know Y/N, that you saved my life. The moment you walked into it, everything was changed, the planets aligned, you saved me from myself, from dooming this court to continue under the way it was ruled previously.”

“You are my light, Y/N, a light I never thought would shine upon me. A light so bright yet I never saw it coming. You are my mate, my love, my wife, my whole world. And I will spend eternity loving you because it is what you deserve, it is what you have always deserved.”

The tears fell in rhythmic succession down Y/N’s face as she held tightly onto Eris’s hands. “How am I meant to follow that?”

A small chorus of laughs echoed throughout the hall.

Eris smiled brightly and squeezed her hands.

“Eris, I love you,” Y/N began. Her heart hammered in her chest. “I wasn’t looking for love when I found you. But you were so patient with me, you allowed me to pursue things at my own pace. Never once did you pressure me into anything.”

Eris’s thumb lightly caressed her knuckles and Y/N struggled to keep her composure.

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I even love the way you want to hold my hand every moment of the day even if it is inconvenient for us both.” Eris chuckled quietly and dipped his head. “Most importantly Eris, I love your soul. I love how much you love and how much you care. And now I am just talking from the heart, but you deserve this. You deserve so much love, and I will happily give it to you for our entire lives, as your wife, as your mate, as your friend. You are my entire life, Eris and you always will be.”

With their eyes locked, Eris sent so much love down the bond that it was almost overwhelming. But Y/N just simply returned it.

“And with that,” the officiator began. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, High Lord.”

“I damn sure will,” Eris said before gently cupping Y/N’s cheeks and pressed his lips against hers in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

Their tears mixed together and Y/N was sure that the gold dusting her and Eris’s eyelids was now all over their faces but she didn’t care. She was kissing her husband, her mate, the love of her life.

Something deep within Y/N seemed to awaken and before she knew it heat surrounded them as the guests gasped in awe. Y/N only pulled away from Eris to look at the spectacle that surrounded them. Fire swirled in elegant patterns around the hall. Sparks falling down around the hall but vanished when they were close to anything it could harm.

Y/N gasped. “Did you do this?”

Eris was not looking at the spectacle when Y/N turned back to him, he was only looking at her. “No,” he answered. “You are.”

“But how–”

“I told you, there is more to your power,” Eris wrapped his hand around hers.

The fire slowly began to disappear until nothing remained. Y/N turned back to Eris, whose eyes were still fixed on her.

“Shall we go, my love?” Eris asked.

Y/N smiled. “Yes we shall.”

The two walked down the aisle to the applause of everyone in the hall.

***

The ballroom was smaller than the hall Y/N and Eris married in but was still just as grand. People danced and enjoyed themselves. Some drank too much and were escorted out by their friends. It was everything Y/N had envisioned for her wedding day.

The only thing she needed was her sisters.

As Y/N walked through the ballroom, her sights set on the group huddled in the far corner of the ballroom. Her sisters, more specifically Elain, was straying further from the group as she tried to find someone in the mass of people, but once her younger sister's eyes landed on her she smiled and rushed over.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Elain said as she wrapped her in a hug.

Y/N’s arms immediately wrapped around her sister and hugged her fiercely. “It’s okay. I am glad you are here.”

As Y/N pulled away from Elain, Feyre and Nesta were approaching. Like Elain, Feyre gave her a hug and offered her a quiet apology. Finally Nesta stood before her. Unlike her two youngest sisters, Nesta remained there, as elegant as ever, with her arms folded across her chest.

“Nesta,” Y/N greeted. “I am glad you are–”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Nesta had wrapped Y/N in a tight hug. She had never been too close to Nesta and she was sure that she could count on one hand the number of times they had hugged in their life. But this was by far Y/N’s favourite.

“I am sorry for the way we treated you, Y/N,” Nesta said and pulled away.

“It is okay,” Y/N said.

“No it isn’t, Y/N,” Feyre said. “We should not have pushed you away. We should not have ignored you. Your trauma from the cauldron was just as valid as Nesta and Elain and we did nothing for you.”

“We are also sorry for how we treated you and Eris,” Elain butt in. “From the looks of things, you two love each other and he absolutely adores you. It was wrong of us to assume he had forced you to stay here.”

“Can you ever forgive us?” Feyre asked.

“There are a lot of things you three have not done for me over the past few years,” Y/N began. “Feyre, Elain you have described them perfectly. I am not forgiving you immediately, we three need to have time to rebuild any relationship we had before.” Her three sisters lost the small smiles on their faces. “But tonight, I would just like to be with my sisters and celebrate with them. When I imagined my wedding day, I always pictured you three there beside me.”

Elain took Y/N’s hand. “We will always be beside you, Y/N. We love you.”

Y/N smiled. “I love you three too.”

Y/N held a little tighter onto Elain’s hand and then gripped onto Nesta’s hand. “Now as it is my wedding day and as I am High Lady of this court, I demand you three to dance with me.”

Y/N dragged the two to the centre of the dancefloor. People around them watched but Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care about appearances. All she wanted to do was have fun with her sisters. Nests tried to remain poised but Y/N simply held onto her hands and pulled her sister into a dance.

“Nesta, there is no one to impress here,” Y/N said, twirling her sister around. “Relax.”

Nesta’s shoulders seemed to relax the slightest amount as the musicians began to play a more upbeat piece of music. Y/N spun around on the dancefloor with her sisters and she began to beckon people to join them.

Standing on the outskirts of the circle was Aliana and Y/N beckoned her over. She did so without complaint. Y/N released Nesta’s hands and gripped onto Aliana’s. “I am so glad you decided to join the celebrations.”

“You have invited most of the village!” Aliana exclaimed. “I expected to walk in and be amongst official court advisors.”

“I invited everyone from the village, and some of the surrounding ones,” Y/N said. “I would have invited more but I don’t believe that there would be time for them to travel, so I sent them all small wedding favours.”

“When I heard that there was going to be a High Lady of Autumn, I didn’t expect you to be so kind,” Aliana said.

Y/N smiled. “I only want what is best for everyone. Everyone deserves to be seen and live in a safe space. I did not have that growing up so I want to make sure others do.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Aliana said. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me,” Y/N said and caught a glimpse of someone over Aliana’s shoulder. “There is someone here to see you.”

Aliana released Y/N’s hands and turned to look behind her. She gasped as tears sprung to her eyes. “Is that-?”

“Your mother,” Y/N said. “I released her from her ban from the Autumn Court. She can come back whenever she pleases. She can even move back if she wanted.”

Aliana flung her arms around Y/N. “Thank you, Y/N. Nobody has ever done something ths kind to our family before.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Aliana before gently pulling away. “Go and spend time with your mother. I will see you later.”

“Later? What do you mean later?” Aliana asked.

“Well, I will need a royal seamstress for the palace,” Y/N said.

Aliana stepped away. “That is a made up title.”

“You are correct,” Y/N replied. “I did just make that up. But that is your new title if you choose to accept it.” Aliana opened her mouth to reply but Y/N simply held up her hand. “We can discuss more about it another time. Go to your mother.”

“Thank you,” Aliana said and rushed toward her mother and threw her arms around her. Y/N smiled at the sight.

“Come on!” Elain exclaimed and pulled Y/N in for another dance in the crowd of people.

Y/N happily complied as through the crowd she saw Eris. He held a glass of wine in his hand as he watched her with a smile. Y/N beckoned him to the dance floor but he shook his head and nodded in the direction of her sisters. Before Y/N could try to coerce him again, Lucine appeared at his side and he was sucked into conversation.

Y/N turned back to her sisters and danced the night away.

***

The music was slower and a lot of people had retired home, though many still remained. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around Eris’s neck and her head rested on his shoulder as they gently swayed to the music.

“My wife,” Eris muttered.

“My husband,” Y/N muttered in return.

“I don’t know how I ever lived without you,” Eris said, his voice full of emotion. “You are the other half of my soul.”

Y/N gripped onto him tighter. She still was overwhelmed with emotions, all melting together and she couldn’t distinguish what emotion was what.

“You are a dream, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N said.

“And you are a vision, Y/N Archeron,” Eris replied.

“Are you upset that I didn’t take your name?” Y/N asked.

“My love, I do not care,” Eris said. “All I care about is that I can call you my wife and my mate.”

“I love you,” Y/N muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Eris’s neck.

“I love you too,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

The picture perfect image was interrupted by a small cough. Eris tensed and Y/N pulled away to look directly into Rhysand’s eyes.

“May I have a dance, High Lady?” Rhysand asked.

Eris held a protective arm around her waist as he glared at Rhysand. Her hand rested on his chest in a comforting manner. From the looks of things Rhysand did not look like he was here to cause any drama. Both Cassian and Azriel were standing on the outskirts conversing with Nesta and Feyre, Elain was nowhere to be seen.

“Of course,” Y/N said. “Eris, would you mind getting me a drink? I won’t be long.”

“Yes, my love,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. His gaze once again fell upon Rhysand before he turned and walked away, leaving both Y/N and Rhysand alone.

Rhysand swept Y/N in a dance, his hand resting on her mid back while he clutched her hand with his as he spun around the dancefloor.

“Why did you want to dance, Feyre is just over there?” Y/N questioned.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Rhysand replied.

“Then talk,” Y/N said bluntly. “I was happy spending time with Eris before you cut in.”

Rhysand looked around the ballroom. “How did you convince him to invite people from the village?”

Y/N frowned, offended on behalf of her mate and husband. “I did not convince him to do anything, Rhysand. I sent out the invitations and he helped me do it.” Y/N pulled away. “If the only thing you want to do is insult Eris to my face, then I will gladly leave you here.”

Rhysand sighed and caught her wrist. “I am sorry, Y/N. I truly am.”

“Look, I do not like you, Rhysand. I have made that abundantly clear time and time again,” Y/N said. “But you make my sister happy, happier than I have ever seen her so I must thank you for that. You also played a part in creating my adorable nephew and that is another thing I can thank you for. But you and I are not friends. Especially not when you insult Eris at every given chance, even after Feyre explained to you why he did the things that he did.”

Rhysand sighed once more. “I know, and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

Against her better judgement, Isal gently took his hand in hers. “Listen, Rhysand. I do not forgive you now, and I probably won’t forgive you until many years down the line, first you must not continue to see Eris as his father. He will never admit it to anyone else but me but that is what he fears the most. He is scared of becoming like his father, sometimes he wakes in the middle of the night crying and screaming because nightmares plague him.” Y/N said. “You need to realise that the two have quite a lot in common. All you both wanted is to protect the ones you love.”

Rhysand remained silent.

“If you actually want to see the positive changes already made in the court, because of me and Eris, you and everyone else are welcome to stay for the following few days, there are plenty of guest rooms available,” Y/N offered. “Now if you will excuse me, I am going to spend time with the person I love. As for you, try to at least have fun and not act like a sword is hanging over your head.”

With that Y/N stepped away from Rhysand and walked away from him, a weight lifted from her shoulders.

She found Eris standing by the drinks table and she hastily approached him, not wanting to be apart from him any longer. Eris immediately perked up as Y/N drew closer, pulling her into his side once she was in arm's reach.

“What did he want to talk about?” Eris asked, lazily resting his arm around Y/N’s shoulders.

“I think it was meant to be an apology,” Y/N said, taking a sip of the wine. “But I am sure he just spent the time trying to pick fault with you.”

Eris growled and looked in Rhysand’s direction. But all Y/N needed to do was link her fingers with his and his attention was instantly devoured back to her.

“It’s our wedding day,” Y/N said softly. “Let us just spend the remainder of the night together and not worry about anything else, or anybody else for that matter.”

Eris moved his face closer to hers so his lips hovered just above hers. “I like the sound of that idea.” His voice was low and deep, the tone that always made Y/N weak at the knees.

Eris connected their lips and Y/N abandoned her drink on the table and wrapped her arms around him. She did not care that they were standing where everyone could see, the only thing that mattered was Eris and the fact that he was hers.

Y/N was the first to pull away. She rested her forehead on his. “I know we will be leaving close to two hundred people in the ballroom, but all I want to do is retire to our bedroom. I don’t even want to have sex, I just want to lay down in our bed and hold one another until we fall asleep.”

“I like the sound of that idea more,” Eris said and began to drag her through the ballroom and to the exit.

“You always love the sound of my ideas,” Y/N commented.

“I do,” Eris said. “I could listen to them for hours on end and never tire of your voice.”

“You are just saying that because you love me,” Y/N teased.

“That is true,” Eris jokes. “When I am tired and you ask me if I am still awake to ask me a silly question, that is when I tire of your voice.”

Y/N laughed as she and Eris stumbled into their bedroom. Almost immediately, Eris began to unlace her dress and watched as it fell away and to the floor, leaving her in only a simple pair of underwear.

“You are truly stunning,” Eris said. “I should tell you that more often.”

“You tell me that every day,” Y/N said, beginning to take off Eris’s clothing.

“It is never enough,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.

Y/N shivered as he unclasped her bra and let it fall from her body. There was nothing sexually charged about the atmosphere, all Y/N and Eris needed was to hold each other and to feel each other.

Y/N pulled him to the bed and shuffled to the centre of it, pulling Eris across with her. The contrast of the cool sheets and the heat emitting from Eris’s body made her relax and pull Eris closer so her head could easily rest in the crook of his neck.

Now that they were in privacy, Eris’s entire demeanour changed. When he was surrounded by court officials, from their own court and others, and the fae from the village, he put up his High Lord front. But now, with only Y/N as witness, he stripped that all back and was fully able to be his true self. The side that only Y/N ever got to see.

“My mate, my wife,” Eris mumbled. “I will never tire of saying that.”

“My mate, my husband,” Y/N responded, her lips brushing his neck. “I will never tire of saying it either.”

Eris drew small patterns upon her skin as the two lay there in silence. Y/N’s eyes were closed but she was not sleeping, she was simply enjoying the simple pleasure in being cuddled up to the love of her life. The love that she never thought would ever come true. The love she deserved. The love she was destined for.

#eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fluff #high lord eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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imaginidol · 9 months

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Yunho: Table Manners

!!mentions of nsfw!! 18+ !! do NOT interact if you don’t like smut!! As requested, here is another ateez smut fic! I haven’t even finished my ot8 fluff stories and I’m already pumping these out ahead of time! Naughty atiny!! In case you are interested, here is a San ver. smut and a Hongjoong ver. smut and a Mingi ver. smut, Wooyoung ver. smut and jongho ver. Smut. I’ve already gotten another asmuteez request so be on the look out for that if you NEED it *squints suspiciously at you*

"A pleasure to finally meet you," Wooyoung quickly bows his head in your direction, followed by a gentle greeting from the rest of the ATEEZ boys.

Tonight was a special night, as it was the first night Yunho was properly introducing you to his best friends in the world as his official romantic partner.

He had invited his members out to a very nice dinner for the occasion, and everyone had dressed casually elegant.

You, however, looked exceptionally beautiful in your choice of clothing for the occasion: a slim-fitted black halter-maxi dress with a plunging neckline, all of which graciously outlined the alluring curvature of your body. Your hair was pinned in a high ponytail and your sparkling heels complemented the final look well.

It was no secret that you were total eye candy at first sight, and one of Yunho's members in particular had taken special notice as well.

As the night progressed, the initial light conversation turned into full conversations about hobbies, industry gossip, how-we-met stories, and other fun interests.

Wooyoung takes a slow sip of his white wine, turning his attention to you.

"You said you'd want to learn more about recording songs, right?"

"I'd love to, actually," you smile, turning to Yunho. "Will you take me one day?"

Yunho's eyes softened. "I'll bring you this week to studio, if you'd like."

"Thank you! I feel like it would be so fun to see how you guys work!"

"Why don't you record stuff for fun while you're there?" Wooyoung smirks, taking another sip of his wine. "I could show you a few things, too."

"Really?" you smile eagerly, "What about music production, could we try that too?"

Wooyoung nodded, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms, eyeing you steadily. "I could definitely do that for you."

"Wooyoung, you're not too buzzed yet, yeah?" Hongjoong says, rubbing his palm against a now half-drunken Wooyoung's neck.

Wooyoung scoffs, shaking his head quietly. "Nah, not yet."

Yunho takes notice of his friend's odd behavior. While he wouldn't be upset if Wooyoung did find you attractive, he was going to be upset if Wooyoung intended to do something about it and passively flirt around you all night long.

"Would you please excuse us," Yunho politely nods towards the rest of his members, pulling his chair back to stand and lightly tapping you on the shoulder.

"Oh?" you look up at your boyfriend and let him wrap his hand around yours as you follow him out to the restroom hallway.

"What's wrong, babe?" you place a hand against Yunho's arm as he turns towards you, his fingers rubbing his eyes in visible annoyance.

"It's nothing that's necessarily your fault, but I don't... I think... I think Wooyoung's got an eye on you, or something like that."

"Wooyoung?" you start giggling, cupping a hand around Yunho's jaw. "Awe, are you getting jealous?"

"Shh, it's not funny," he mutters, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Yunho, I don't think I've ever seen or heard you when you're jealous. I kind of like it," you tease, placing your hands against his chest and leaving a soft kiss against his lips.

"Just don't give him too much attention anymore, alright? I'll deal with him after," he mumbles into your lips. He gently wraps his arms around your waist, not wanting to think about his friend's behavior anymore.

"But, does this mean I can't go to your recording studio anymore?"

Yunho's eyebrows furrow slightly. "Only if you're with me, and you let me show you how things work."

"Oh?" you cock your head to the side, smiling, "So, no Wooyoung?"

Yunho's eyes grow hooded. "You want him to come? What, so you like his attention on you now?"

You shrugged. "I guess I like it when I get attention," you smirk.

Yunho furrows his brows more, studying your expressions carefully.

She's doing it again, he thinks.

"You're doing it again," he mutters out loud.

"What am I doing?" you say, placing your index fingers around his belt loops.

"Don't fuck around with me like that, especially not with Wooyoung," he mumbles in a low grating voice, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Okay, I won't," you smile, "just as long as it means you are giving me all the attention I want."

Yunho's eyes jump from your eyes to your lips, his hands still clutched around your waist. "And what if I don't? Should I get worried?"

You drop your smile quickly as you bring a hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb steadily against his bottom lip. "I'll get it from Wooyoung."

Yunho immediately rams his lips into yours out of pure frustration, shoving your back against the wall.

"Say it again, I fucking dare you," Yunho mutters breathily, digging his fingernails into your ass.

You let out a soft groan as you feel his harsh kisses trace a line from your jaw down your neck, both your hands now gripping his waist.

"If I see you giving him the attention he wants one more time, I'll fuck the shit out of you until you regret it," he hisses.

"Do I... do I have to wait to give him attention for me to get that punishment?" you tease softly, pulling against his belt loops again.

"Fuck it, you're done for," he snarls, looking over his shoulder and locating your next impromptu destination: a janitor's closet.

He quickly pulls you in, shutting the lights off and locking the door behind him before turning his attention back to you.

You feel his strong hands wrap around your back as he slams your body against the wall behind you, making a rattling noise as several custodial objects toppled all over the floor in the process.

You tug at his pants desperately, begging with your fingers for him to take them off.

"Oh, fuck no, you're not getting shit unless you beg me for it," he snarls, slapping your hands away from his belt and unzipping the back of your dress.

You whine in protest, pulling your arms out of your sleeve holes and slipping out of your heels in a few swift motions as Yunho pulls his sleeves up to his elbows.

Yunho lifts a couple fingers to his lips and quickly drenches them in spit before proceeding to glide his hand down your stomach and into your panties.

"Yunho,” you whisper as you feel his fingers find their way onto your clit. He began massaging you gently; kneading strategically against your sensitive happy button as soft moans began escaping your lips.

“You like that, princess?” he mumbles under his breath, soft grunts escaping his lips as he felt you drenching his fingers more and more.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he hisses, scrunching his face in deep pleasure as he felt a boner rising somewhere deep within his pants.

He raises an arm against the wall next to your head and encloses his mouth around yours, keeping his other hand busy rubbing two drenched fingers against your bean. You have one arm wrapped around his shoulder and neck, the other tugging desperately at his arm as you raised one leg around his hips, nudging him to start fingering you.

"You want attention, princess?" he breathes, biting your lip profusely as he followed his fingers down your labia to reach your hole.

"Fuck," you whimper, raising your leg higher in desperation at the feel of Yunho's steady fingers gently teasing your entrance.

"Beg for it," he sneers, his breath hot against your neck as he cravingly bit into your skin.

"Please, finger me already," you whimper, "just please fucking finger me!"

“You’re so fucking needy,” Yunho scoffs, inserting his fingers into you and pulling out steadily, his cock now fully hardened and poking you through his clothed crotch.

Your soft moans being to match the pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you, your hole growing wetter and looser alongside his every rapturing stroke.

"Please, Yunho, fuck me," you achingly plead, shamelessly tugging at his zipper in an attempt to pull it down.

"You're gonna be fucking patient," he growled, seeing as how your itched fingers had managed to thirstily slide their way underneath his boxers.

You pulled down his boxers and out popped his wet, hardened cock. You traced circles around his tip as he kept ramming his fingers in and out of you, ignoring your hungry requests for more.

Suddenly, a devious thought lingered through your mind.

"You know,” you smile, “I bet Wooyoung would've had his cock inside of me already a long fucking time ago," you tease.

That sentence alone is enough to force Yunho to rip his dress shoes, black turtleneck, and pants off his body, desperately fumbling his way out.

You clench your jaw as he lifts your legs off the ground and wraps them around his waist, his hardened member already seeping wet drops of cum at its tip.

"Say... that... again... SAY IT!!" he pants desperately as he begins pushing himself roughly into you, every word coming out of his mouth in unison with each deep thrust. Your loud moans began to fill the otherwise quiet and voided air around you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moan loudly, clawing your fingernails deeply into the soft canvas of porcelain-like skin of his back as each intensifying stroke slipped in and out of your pink-fleshed caverna.

"They've been gone awhile; do you think they're alright?" Yeosang turns to Hongjoong, taking a sip of his hot tea as quiet jazz tunes play from the ceiling speakers above.

"Hmm," Hongjoong turns toward the end of the restaurant where he last saw you and Yunho disappear. "Don't know."

"Probably arguing, as healthy couples do," Jongho says, taking a bite of fish cake. "Wooyoung, I blame you,” he sneers through a mouthful of food. “Keep your eyes to yourself next time, yeah? It's bro code."

"Right," Hongjoong turns back around thoughtfully, popping some kimchi into his mouth.

You slam both hands against the wall as Yunho roughly turns you onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide as he began hitting it from the back.

Yunho's bangs are drenched as tiny drops of sweat splash onto your hot, glossy back, both your bodies growing warmer under the intensifying and sexy heat of friction. With every passing desirous moan and grunt, Yunho thrusts himself deeper into you, bending over to firmly clasp his hands around your hips and then biting profusely into your neck.

Loud moans escape your lips as you're no longer able to keep them in, your body under complete control of the boy masterminding an orchestra of your vocal chords behind you.

Yunho's breathy gasps slowly turn to soft whimpers as his wet, throbbing member slips in and out of your loosened warm, velvety inner walls. He seemingly felt himself on the verge of reaching his limit, but refused to let go until you reached the pleasure you oh-so wonderfully deserved.

"C'mon, baby," Yunho whispers into your ear as you throw your head back into his shoulder, "cum for me already," he whispers gently. At that, he begins fucking you harder and faster, throwing any and all signs of polite and gentle sex out the window.

You fail to hold in a loud, pleasurable groan as your lower abdomen is joyously overwhelmed by the full extortion of your final orgasm, to which Yunho takes the full and pleasurable joy of feeling his throttling member drench completely at your release.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Yunho hisses, sinking his teeth deep into his bottom lip as the sensation of your warmth overwhelms his hot, throbbing member. He pulls out quickly with only seconds of limited time to jerk himself off before a steaming hot jet stream of cum shoots all over your back.

"Fuck," Yunho takes a couples steps back, outstretching his arms to lean against the wall in front of him with you underneath. He leans in gently, lowering his warm body against your back as several of his soft kisses are gently planted against your cheek. The small janitorial closet grew quiet except for the heavy panting in an attempt to catch your breaths. He looked around and only hoped that the custodians of this restaurant would take deep-cleaning requests seriously, and he cursed himself quietly under his breath for the uncanny mess that was left of the small room. He planted one last soft kiss against your shoulder as he stepped back and started shuffling through the storage bins in search of a roll of paper towels.

"Don't move, baby," he muttered, wiping what he could of his mess off your back and in between your legs. He folded the paper towel and with it finished wiping himself down, though he knew that you two wouldn't be fully clean until you managed to take a shower sometime later that night.

"Sorry, baby," he hummed, balancing you on your feet as he helped you pull your dress back on and slip into your heels. "I'll try to find an excuse for us to go home as quickly as possible."

You giggled as you helped your boyfriend dress himself next, leaving a quick, soft kiss against his V-line before pulling his pants up and zipping them shut.

"I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow," you sigh under your breath, annoyedly pinching your boyfriend's waist as you both awkwardly stepped out of the closet.

"How do I look?" you tiredly smile up to your boyfriend, trying to pat down your hair as best as you could. Streaks of your runny eye makeup and faded lipstick made him giggle softly, a proud trophy he considered after the sinful events of the last twenty minutes.

"You look like you've learned your lesson," he smirks, leaning over to plant a soft kiss against your cheek. He pulls out another paper towel and begins to gently touch up your makeup the best that he could, though with all his best efforts you still looked like you were lawlessly railed without any signs of regret.

"What about me? Do I look presentable?"

You giggled at the sight of his wrinkled shirt and mess of drenched hair, running your fingers through his bangs in an attempt to make him look not-so-guilty of the heinous acts he'd just committed out of distasteful jealousy.

"Oh, there you are. We thought you guys had left already," Yeosang smiles as you and Yunho hobbled awkwardly into your seats. You flinched as you sat, still feeling the rawness in your hole where Yunho had recklessly fucked you like it was no one’s immediate business.

"Were you crying?" Jongho says, noticing the smudged residue of mascara and eyeliner that Yunho had failed to completely wipe clean. Yunho takes notice and proceeds to gently pat a napkin against your face.

Yunho smiled assuringly in your direction. “What? No, those are happy tears, you see," he teased, flashing you a pretty grin with perfect teeth.

"Oh? That's good to hear, then," Wooyoung sighed, nudging Jongho's arm. "See? They weren’t arguing.”

Jongho rolls his eyes.

“Anyhow,” Hongjoong continues, turning to face you, "you’re very beautiful and we very much appreciated getting to finally meet you,” he smiles, turning his attention to Yunho next. “She's a real gem, so never forget to treat her right,” he finishes, sending a small wink in your direction.

Yunho squeezed your thigh under the table, turning a gentle smile back in your direction.

"Trust me when I say, taking good care of her is my top priority."

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fleurrreads · 2 months

Note

hi hi hi! could you write something for charles leclerc x single!mom!reader? maybe her son ( or daughter or both ) both him for the first time and they're all protective over their mom, and she has to leave them alone for sometime and when she finds them they're bonding? this probably does not make sense but oh well have something to eat and some water if you haven't in the last hour! and can i be 🎧 anon, if it isn't taken already? my pronouns are she/her and i'm 18!

an: i had a lot of fun writing this one, and i think it has a special place in my heart forever ♡ i’ll add you to the list! welcome lovely 💫

You’ve been seeing Charles for about four months now. In that time you haven’t introduced him to your son — Cody, who is seven. You were worried about him meeting your boyfriends and them leaving, which would mean they also leave him behind. So none of your boyfriends have ever met Cody.

Charles knows about Cody though, and vice versa. You’re currently dressing up to go out on a date with Charles as Cody sits on your bed, little feet dangling from the side. “You look so pretty mommy. Are you going on a date today?” The little boy rubs his eyes, visibly exhausted from the day. He has a lot of energy during the day and then he winds down and passes out by nine. He’s a lot like you in that sense.

You sit down on your bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Thank you baby. Yes I’m going on a date with Charles today. He’ll be here soon to pick me up.” You see the gears turning in his little head, and he meets your eyes. “Do you trust him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of your dress. A nervous tick he got from you no doubt.

“Yes angel, I trust him more than anyone. Do you want to meet him and see for yourself?” The only way Cody will be less worried about you is if he met Charles and saw for himself that he was a good guy. He nods, gathering himself up and running to the living room where Scooby Doo is playing on the tv, the babysitter that you got for tonight was still on the way so you wouldn’t be able to leave before she arrived.

You hear the distinctive sound of Charles’ car coming to a stop in-front of your house when you see Cody’s head shoot up, looking through the curtain at the car that stopped in front. “Woah” You hear him softly whisper to nobody in particular. You smile , making your way towards the front door to let Charles inside.

Charles looks absolutely incredible, not too fancy and not too casual. He kisses you on the cheek, aware of the little boy now sitting on the couch looking warily at him. “Hello my love, are you nearly ready to go?” He looks at Cody, smiling at him. “Hello Cody. It’s nice to officially meet you.” he shakes the little boy’s hand.

Cody smiles softly, “It’s nice to meet you, uncle Charles.” Your heart warms at the smile on Charles’ face. You walk to the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to finish getting ready.” You sit down at your vanity, trying to finish your makeup as fast as you can to not leave Cody with Charles too long. You know Cody isn’t always comfortable at first with people, and you don’t want him to feel like that with Charles.

In the living room Charles hunches down to Cody’s level. “What’s wrong Cody? Did I do something wrong?” He wants to make a good impression on him, because he sees you and him being together for a long time. Cody looks at him with big eyes. “Do you really like my mommy?”

Charles’ heart aches as he looks at Cody. He’s trying to protect your feelings before you can get hurt. He’s probably seen you come back from other dates either absolutely exhausted or crying.Charles realises that Cody just doesn’t want you to go through that again.

Tears are now prominent on the little boy’s waterline as Charles gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I love your mom. She’s an incredible woman and I’d like to spend a long time making her happy. She means a lot to me, you know. And I’d like to make you happy too. I was thinking that we could go on a drive tomorrow if you’d like. We can go get ice cream and stop by any shop you want.” Charles notices the hint of excitement in Cody’s eyes. He also sees the relief in the little boy’s face, hearing Charles speak so lovingly about his mom.

Cody grins at him, “I’d love to! Your car is really cool. Does it go really fast?” Question after question falls from the little boy’s mouth, his excitement not contained anymore. Charles chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to Cody, answering every question he’s got.

You finally emerge out of the bedroom, hair done nicely, makeup finished as you make your way to the living room where you find no Charles and no Cody. How odd. As you begin searching you hear giggles coming from the kitchen and your heart swells at the image you see as you peek around the corner.

Cody’s sitting on the counter, a pancake in his mouth, laughing at Charles who’s attempting to flip the pan expertly as to flip the pancake around. He failed miserably as the pancake misses the pan and splats on the floor. Cody laughs loudly. “You’re so silly Charlie.”

A nickname. Cody gave Charles a nickname. You feel your heart ache as you smile at them. Charles has a faint flush to his cheeks when he spots you in the hallway, a smile on your face. “What’s going on in here? Are you burning my house down, Cha?” Cody turns his head to you, still happily snacking on a pancake that didn’t fall to the floor. “We’re making pancakes! Do you want one mommy?” Cody offers you a plate with a smiley-faced pancake and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, thank you baby.” You sit down at the counter, enjoying the moment with them.

Charles made you call the babysitter to cancel. “Why would we go anywhere else when this is where I could only dream to be.” He took your hand as you’re now sitting on the couch. Cody sitting on his other side, you see Charles holding his hand as well. Your heart swells at the image, and you realise that this was what you’d dreamed of as a little girl. A perfect family.

“We can go on a date another day this week. This moment is more important.” Charles whispers, giving you a small kiss and continuing to watch the cartoons on tv.

You realise that this is how you’d be able to spend forever. With them. With Charles.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x single!mom!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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thedevilspearl · 1 year

Note

do you think mammon seeks out his human if he’s feeling particularly down? maybe a comment really rubbed him wrong and then boom, you’re stuck in bed with him clung to you, head on your tummy while he talks about it? maybe lightly scratching his head to comfort him? i think about it often, too often.

-☽

➛ put your head on my shoulder

a/n: moon nonnie i’m convinced you can read my mind because i think about comfort with mammon all the time and this in particular is just >>>

tags: 0.5k words, mammon x reader, comfort and fluff

on days like this, mammon tends to find his way to the one place he can feel comforted.

and it’s not the fall, where he can temporarily drown his insecurities in demonus and loud music, nor the casino where he ignores his anxiety with a game of poker.

no, he needs a long–lasting remedy which can easily enter his bloodstream and heal all of the bad things inside of him.

and the only place he can find such a thing is wherever you are.

he trudges through your doorway, closing it quietly behind him; knocking isn’t a norm, the great mammon enters as he pleases. but you notice something which isn’t the norm, and that’s mammon entering quietly instead of barging in with a “hey, where’s my human at?!”

“mammon,” you shove your textbooks to the side, making room for him on your mattress. “i haven’t seen you all day, where have you been?”

his head hangs low, and his shoulders droop in the same direction. concern covers your face and you pull him closer to you.

slumping against your body, he rests his forehead on your shoulder. the weight of his body pressing against you feels heavier today; he’s had a difficult day.

“come on,” you shuffle backwards, giving extra care to not losing contact with him or else he might break from the loss of your touch. moving towards the pillows, you lay flight while mammon collapses against your torso. his head buries itself deep into your tummy and his arms hug your hips like they’re the only solace he finds in this world. “is that better?”

nodding slightly, he snuggles further into your body and you lower your hand to him. his face is hidden even when you brush his messy bangs away from his face, and a long sigh escapes him — a whisper of how profoundly bad his day was.

“wanna talk about it?”

mammon remains still and silent for a few moments. the only sound filling the room are the gentle scratches of your nails running across his scalp and your synced breathing.

before long, he exhales into the quiet.

“no…not yet.”

your heart swells for him; very rarely do you see him like this and it makes you swear to destroy whatever it was that caused him to feel so disdained.

alas, you stay in place because the only thing you can do right now is comfort him.

“that’s okay,” you whisper. “we can stay like this for as long as you need.”

the discreet flex of his arms around you almost goes unnoticed, but you know it’s his acknowledgement — or thanks — for consoling him until his demons go away. you return his tightened hold with one of your own, imprisoning him in your protection, both physical and emotional.

and mammon feels it — your power seeping through his skin and finding home in every one of his cells. he feels your magic work like the sole spell for any and all of his ailments.

you never fail to make him feel better, be it on a good day or bad.

you’re his cure.

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #mammon fluff #mammon comfort #obey me fluff #obey me drabble #mammon drabble

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beautifulbrainrot · 5 months

Text

first time

spencer reid x fem!reader

cw 18+ fem!virgin!reader, implied age gap (reader in 20s, spencer in like.. s7-15) soft fluffy sex, a bit jokey (you’ll see), swearing, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v

a/n def the longest thing i’ve ever written so please lmk if this is nonsensical babble ..

when you first met spencer reid, you thought he was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen.

as you got closer to him, you realised that no only was he extremely attractive, he was smart, awkward but charming, all around the perfect man. of course you wanted him! who wouldn’t?

except there were a few things stopping you from making a move as most people might do. first of all, he was your coworker. you had recently started at the BAU, and you did not want to be that new girl who sleeps with her more senior coworkers. another thing was that you were slightly.. more inexperienced than most in that particular feild. you had never had sex. or dated anyone. or even had a first kiss. god, you were pathetic! you wanted those things, so desperately, but many factors had stopped you.

and who would want the pathetic, over 20 year old virgin? at least that’s what you thought.

spencer had had his eye on you since you joined the team. at first it was innocent, you were smart and seemed nice, and awfully pretty. then, being a profiler, he started noticing things about you. you were extra nervous around him, blushing when he would talk to you. and recently you had even begun to avoid him. ducking away when he called your name from across the room, avoiding conversation if not pertinent to work and just overall staying away from him.

he had grown quite fond of you over the time you’d been on the team, even developing a small crush on you. who was he kidding, it was a huge crush. his eyes lingered on your pretty face a little too long, he didn’t mind it when you touched him (which was uncommon for someone he didn’t know very well) and he found himself thinking about you more than he normally would with his friends, even his closest friends.

spencer reid had a crush on you.

and you had a crush on spencer reid.

problem was, you were avoiding him like the plague and he didn’t really know how to talk to you.

you were at a impass.

good thing is, spencer had gotten better over the years at his people skills, and talking to people wasn’t as daunting as it once was for him. he just needed to wait for the right moment.

the right moment came in the office, late in the evening, when you, him and two or so others were still there. he walked up to your desk, knocking quietly on the wood of the table to alert you to the fact he was standing there.

you looked up, eyes widening as you saw it was spencer. standing at your desk. about to talk to you.

“hey, can i- can i talk to you for a second? in private.”

you nodded, blush dusting your cheeks. you followed him to an empty office, where you both stepped inside and he closed the door behind you.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” he started, looking down at you.

“i- i haven’t!”

“actually you have. we haven’t talked about anything not essential to work in… 1 week, 5 days and 2 hours.” he said, glancing down at his watch to see the exact time.

“you know the exact time we last talked..?” you asked, raising your eyebrow slightly. spencer’s eyes widened and he grimaced. real smooth.

“that’s.. not important. why are you avoiding me? i haven't said anything or done anything, have i?” he fretted, frowning slightly, wracking his brain for anything he might have done to upset you.

“no, spencer, you haven’t done anything! this is me- i’m.. i’m being unprofessional.” you sighed, gently placing your hand on his arm to calm him.

he gladly accepted the touch, holding back a smile as he realised this was the first time you touched him in weeks. your touch made him feel warm, heat radiating through his body from the spot on his arm where your palm lay.

“unprofessional, how?” he asked, tilting his head in a way that was akin to a confused puppy, which you thought was quite cute.

you sighed, deciding whether you were going to tell him or not. either he was going to be uncomfortable, or maybe, just maybe he might like you back.

“i had- well- i have a bit of a.. crush on you..” you whispered, grimacing as you realised that there was no taking back what you just said. no where else to go but forward. so you just started rambling.

“and- i mean! i didn’t want it to be uncomfortable or be unprofessional at work so i started avoiding you because you obviously don’t like me back so-“

“how’d you know i don’t like you back?”

“because who would like a pathetic twenty something year old virgin, who’s never even been kissed!” you yelled exasperatedly.

spencer’s eyes widened.

yours did too.

“i did.. not mean to say that.”

spencer didn’t say anything for a second.

“what i was trying to say.. is i do like you back.”

you looked up at him, shocked.

“even- even after what i just said?”

he shrugged, nodding.

“yes, i mean i was inexperienced in my twenties too. and now that i’m more experienced.. i can help you out.. if you want?” he breathed, voice low, his hands landing softly on your hips, thumbs rubbing small circles on your work skirt.

you knew you were blushing like crazy, embarrassment and lust heating up your cheeks.

“so.. i guess what i’m trying to say is.. do you want me to kiss you?”

you nodded dumbly, and barely a second passed before his large palms were cupping your heated cheeks, and his soft lips were of yours. you practically melted into him, turned into mush from the sweet and simple kiss.

he gently pulled away, and you looked up at him, eyes lidded and dazed.

“so.. how was that for your first kiss?”

you bit your lip, smiling softly.

“i think i want you to do it again.”

he didn’t waste any time, capturing your lips again, moulding them with his as he kissed you deeply. the kiss quickly got even deeper, more passionate, and when he pulled away you were flushed and panting.

emboldened, you initiated the next kiss, pushing yourself against his lean body, tangling your hands in his messy hair. he accepted this touch gladly, moaning lowly into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers tugging slightly on his soft locks.

by this point you were more than hot and bothered, practically soaking through your panties from just a few kisses. though who could blame you? you were a virgin kissing the most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life, and he was kissing you back. deeply. fervorously. passionately.

but just kissing wasn’t enough to satisfy this need inside of you. this want, this desperate urge. you needed him to touch you, to hold you, to fuck you. and you needed him to do it now.

“spencer-“ you whined, pulling away from his lips, pressing yourself closer against him.

“i need you.”

he cupped your cheeks again, looking down at your desperate face, eyes wide and wanting.

“i’m not taking your virginity in an empty office in the BAU.”

you groaned, and he laughed softly at the pout on your face.

“my apartment is near here! please spencer, please, i’m tired of waiting, i want you. now.” you cried, pressing yourself closer against him. it was then that you felt it. a bulge in his slacks.

holy fuck. he was hard. he was hard, because of you.

you trailed your hand down his body, ghosting over his crotch. you smiled as he closed his eyes with a shaky breath.

“c’mon... please can we go to mine?” you smiled softly, looking up at him, your smile widening as you saw that glint of pure lust in his gorgeous eyes.

he didn’t say anything for a second, seemingly weighing up the options, and deciding what to do. then finally, he spoke.

“okay.”

the trip back to your apartment was quick, and as soon as you entered the door, you were up against the wall again, your hands back in his hair and his on your hips.

slowly, you started grinding together, slightly clumsily at first on your part, but he quickly hooked your leg up and around his, pressing his clothed cock into your clothed core.

the pressure against your aching, soaked cunt was perfect, your head falling back slightly as you moaned. spencer took the opportunity to kiss on your jaw and down to neck, before going to your collar ( under where your work shirt would be ) to start sucking in a dark hickey.

you breath came out in pants, whimpering and moaning softly as he ground up into you.

“bedroom, please- please.” you gasped. you needed him. right fucking now.

you gasped, wrapping your hands around his neck as he suddenly picked you up, legs hooked around his hips, face in his neck as he carried you over to your bedroom.

he placed you gently on the bed, and stood over you. you were both looking at eachother with lust in your eyes, unable to tear away.

“do you want me to continue. do you want to have sex with me?”

you nodded quickly.

“words, baby.”

baby. holy fuck.

“i want to. please.” you answered quickly.

“do you want to take your clothes of for me?”

“only if you take yours of too.”

he smiled at that, quickly unbuttoning his shirt as you shedded your blouse.

“can you help with my bra?” you asked softly, turning, back to him.

he helped you unclasp it, and you turned back around, shedding the garment.

“beautiful.” he whispered as he looked at you, now only left in your panties.

you smiled softly, feeling completely comfortable as he looked at your nude chest. you in turn, started at his. he wasn’t muscley by any means, but he was lean and tall, with a small soft tummy you wanted to litter with a million kisses.

your eyes drifted down to his boxers, biting your lip as you saw the tent in his underwear. he smirked slightly as he watched your awestruck face closely, monitoring your expressions. spencer had come a long way with how he felt about his body, but he was still insecure. but seeing the way you looked at him, the pure awe and lust in your eyes made him feel better than ever before.

he whispered your name, and you looked up, small smile on your face.

“lie back, baby.” he said, his voice gentle and you couldn’t help but obey.

he helped you shuffle out of your panties, pulling them down off your legs, before pressing himself inbetween your legs.

your eyes widened as you realised what he was going to do.

“you don’t have to-“

“i want to. do you want me too?” he quickly answered.

you nodded, before quickly saying yes, remembering that he wanted vocal consent. you were blushing like crazy, and you leaned your head back into the pillows so that you could hide your heated face from him.

spencer didn’t notice, too busy gentle parting your thighs with his large hands, pushing them apart to reveal your glistening pussy to him.

overcome with lust and need, he leaned in, licking a broad stripe from your hole to your clit before circling his tongue around your clit softly.

you gasped and moaned lewdly, your lips parting as he continued licking your pussy, desperate to hear those sounds from you again.

he ate you liked a starved man, and just like his kisses he was passionate and feverous, moaning lowly into you. your taste was like honey to him, and the sounds you were making were angelic, music to his ears, the soft, needy noises coming from your parted lips as you squirmed on the bed encouraging to go faster, sloppier, deeper until you were screaming out with pleasure, legs trembling and shaking as you came hard on his readily awaiting tounge.

“holy.. holy fuck!” you laughed, quite literally in shock as he removed his face from between your quivering thighs. and fuck, if you didn’t almost come again at the sight of spencer reid, between your thighs, lips and chin slick with your juices, smiling softly up at you, pupils blown with lust.

he moved up your body, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. it was sloppy and messy and dirty and perfect.

you parted from his lips, panting quietly.

“fuck me.” you said, biting your lip, “please?”

he kissed you chastely, before pulling away to remove his boxers. your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw him, unrevealed to you at last. he was big. fuck. how were you going to take all of that?

“it’s okay. it’ll fit.” he breathed. you looked at him, jaw dropped. he talked about it so nochalantly, like he wasn’t constantly carrying around that fucking thing. you picked your jaw up and smirked softly. you could not wait to have him inside of you.

he lined himself up with you, and you shivered slightly with anticipation when you felt the head of him brush against your quivering hole.

holy fuck. this was happening.

he slowly pushed in, and you threw your head back into the pillows. the stretch burned, but soon the pain turned into pleasure, the feeling of being so filled, so fucking perfect you felt like crying and praising god. or spencer, really.

“feels- s’good spence-“ you chocked out, panting harshly into the quiet room as he stretched you open with his cock.

you both moaned as he bottomed out in you.

“are you ready?”

“so, so ready.”

he met your lips in a gentle kiss, that quickly turned rough and passionate as he started thrusting into you, pulling himself out before pushing back in.

as his thrusts got faster, you clung onto him, hands scratching down his back as he rhythmically fucked into you.

a continuous string of moans fell from your parted lips, the sounds going straight to spencer’s cock, making him go faster and deeper, holding you close as he fucked you.

he connected his lips to yours again, both of you moaning into eachothers mouths. the kiss was lewd and sloppy and passionate and so fucking perfect.

it didn’t take long before your legs were shaking again, your second orgasm of the night nearing. spencer could feel you clench around his cock as you neared the edge, the extra pressure causing him to get closer as well.

you both came together, holding each other close, moaning and panting. he pulled out gently, rolling over to lie next to you. you turned onto your side to look at him, and he did the same. you kissed him softly, chastely. unlike your previous kisses, this was gentler and softer, filling you with a different kind of warmth than the heat of lust.

“how was that for your first time? i hope i didn’t disappoint.” spencer grinned, and you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face just looking at his.

“definitely didn’t disappoint.” you giggled. he wrapped his arm around you, holding your body close to him, both your eyes closing as the exhaustion of your long day and.. extracurricular activities finally caught up with you.

hope you like! reblogs and comments are always appreciated !

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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shockinglyangel · 16 days

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RECONCILIACION - TOM RIDDLE x Fem!reader

MATURE, Warnings: Porn with plot, Haven’t seen each other in over a decade, 18+, NSFW, Fingering, lots of description, Penis in vag penetration, Unprotected sex, Breeding

NOT PROOFREAD

PROFESSOR TOM!!!!

Looking like my sexy husband Tom Hughes

Nom nom nom

Reader and Tom are like 32 (mwahahaha, I like my men old)

WORDCOUNT: 3195 (fucking crazy)

"Matilda!" You shouted out to the young child as she darted up the stairs, her older brother dragging her along with him, his hand gripping on her arm as they marched further and further away from you.

"Hurry up, mum!" Finley shouted back to you, not thinking to turn his head around as he continued his trek up the many steps in front of him.

You shook your head with a smile, holding your dress up with one hand while the other was out to help you balance. You were taking your kids to their first day of school.

Your husband worked overseas most of the time, alongside the MACUSA, you'd been married for the last sixteen years now, it was a good marriage, only due to the fact that he was never around for their to be any troubles. He of course comes back for your children's big achievements, and by that I mean birthdays and Christmas, he hadn't the time to be able to come back for all the mundane things, that's what made it so perfect.

There were no room for trials and tribulations.

"Finley darling, will you come here please," you scoffed at the young boy as he let go of his younger sisters arm, Finley was now fourteen, Matilda was twelve, it was her first day at Hogwarts, but bless her sweet heart, she was so nervous about it all; which was why you made the decision to bring her yourself. "You have chocolate on your face"

Your son stopped awaiting for you to do something embarrassing as always, young boys always do.

You moved toward him, grabbing a handkerchief from your small bag and adding a dot of saliva to it before wiping the boys face. "Mum!" He grimaced, bringing his hand to his face and pulling himself away from you.

You smiled happily. "I told you not to eat all those chocolate frogs in one go."

He shrugged and walked ahead again, causing you to take your other child's hand and bring her towards the large wooden doors, through the courtyard.

You hadn't been here in years, not since the age of eighteen, but much differed from now and then, and a lot had changed.

You too looked around as you entered the doors from the outside, the sound of your shoes clicking on the floor as they hit the concrete. The sound was all so familiar as it danced around the corridor, the echo being deafening to one's ears.

"Ah, Mr. Starwall," a man looked down to your young boy, his hands deep in the pockets of his suit trousers. "Thought you'd decided not to make a show this year."

Finley stared up at the tall man, giving him a smile. "This is my sister, Matilda," he pointed to the girl who was cowering behind you, her hand tightly laced with yours. "She's a bit nervous."

The man looked away from your son and stirred his gaze to your daughter, leaning out to meet her eyes, his hand slipping from his pocket. "I am professor Riddle, your brothers head of year."

You eyebrows furrowed and eyes went wide as you heard that particular name, one you had never thought be to aware of for the rest of your life. It couldn't be, could it?

The teacher stood up straight now, looking to find you, your eyes found his face with much haste and you took a deep breath, blinking a few times as your thoughts were confirmed. "Mrs," he looked at you, taking in your expression before standing slightly back from you. "Starwall."

It pained him not to say your name, to not be able to call you by your actual name, the one that he remembers falling from his lips so effortlessly in the past. But he needed to be professional, and he needed to be a good influence for the children.

"I want to go see my friends," Finley jumped around, eager to run off into the great hall. "Mum, can I go see my friends, please?" He gave you a wide smile, excitement painting his face.

Tom looked down to the boy, before moving his head towards the door, looking to where Finley's friends were wavering him to come. "Son, why don't you take your sister into the hall to join in with the feast?"

The boy nodded happily, grabbing the younger girls hair and pulling her through the doors and into the hall, the poor girl scurrying after him, leaving you and Tom alone.

"Don't you dare call him that," you took another deep breath, looking up to Riddle who seemed to be contemplating his next move, his eyes still on the two children as they joined the Slytherin bench, a teacher immediately coming over to pull Matilda away to get sorted. "You have no right."

"Is that one mine too?" He turned back to face you, his eyes finding yours in no time.

You scoffed. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Well?" Tom tilted his head slightly to the side, standing in front of you, pulling your attention from your children and to him.

"No!" You let out a breath, trying your best not to let yourself boil over. "There's a two years difference."

Tom nodded. "So it's only Finley?" He raised his eyebrows to look at you, making sure that he had the story right, although it seemed like he was questioning the legitimacy of the situation.

"Finley is barely yours," you gritted your teeth, the fact that you couldn't get him to at all falter was driving you insane, he always drove you insane. "You never made an effort."

He let out a puff of air, a small smirk on his face. "And your husband does?" You went to open your mouth to speak, to silence him in some way, but he interrupted. "Your son says otherwise."

You lifted a finger to raise it at him, your blood boiling, your face beginning to turn red with anger. "My marriage is none of your business."

"It is when he is fathering my son." Tom grabbed your wrist, pulling it down, his fingers still gripping tight.

"He is not your son!"

Professor Riddle rolled his eyes as you repeated yourself, he looked back to the great hall, watching as Matilda got taken up to the stage, the sorting hat being placed on her head. "We are not going over this again." He pulled you towards a door and through another hallway, his hand still on your wrist so you couldn't try to pull yourself away.

You stumbled forward as he let go of your arm, pushing you into the room and following behind, slamming the door closed as you entered a large office, most likely not belonging to him. "Let me out."

He scoffed, leaning against the door and folding his arms. "Do not even try to leave," he pushed himself up from the door, making his way over to the large, wooden desk which was placed in the middle of the room. "We seem to have much to talk about."

"God, Riddle. I don't want to talk to you about this." You trudged after him, stomping on the ground as you made your way over to the desk as well.

He sat down on the desk, leaning against it slightly, his fingers squeezing into the edge of the table, his feet folded over one another. "You don't have a say in this," you stood beside him. "I have been doing nothing but going by my life under your command, don't you think I at least deserve an explanation?"

You looked at him speechless, he was right. He'd never once tried to contact you after you told him to leave you alone, after you told him that you had a family to take care of. Even when under circumstance, it was his too.

Tom tilted his head to the side. "The amount of letters I had to discard because you said you didn't want to hear from me," he stood back up again, moving closer to you as you eyed him. "The times when you refused to speak to me, to tell me how our boy was doing," he stopped for a moment, standing right in front of you now, lowering his head, his eyes bore into yours. "Did I deserve that? Was it some kind of sick revenge?"

You shook your head, your gaze not leaving his. "Riddle,"

"Tom," he stopped you, taking your hand into his, bringing it up to his face, his eyes never leaving your own as he placed a soft kiss on your wrist. "It's Tom."

Your breath hitched in your throat, for all those years that you were confound to him, you were never allowed to call him by his first name, it reminded him too much of his beginning, his childhood, the things that he was so desperate to forget. "Stop it."

He shook his head, lowering your hand slightly, his grip still on your wrist. "I fear I cannot," you blinked a few times, your breath quickening at his words, so simple, so small, he was always a sweet talker. "Don't make me."

You were an addiction for him as he was for you, the poison dripping from the vine, something neither of you should digest, but God the taste. The taste was ever so powerful.

And he missed that flavour.

He wasted no time to bring you into a harsh kiss, taking a deep breath as his lips latch onto yours, breathing you in as if the scent of your soul was enough to expand his life expectancy. Pulling you closer to him, he removed his hand from your wrist, one of his going to your cheek while the other travelled down to your waist, holding you tightly over the cotton fabric of your dress, feeling the silhouette of your body under the bones of his fingers. Deeply wishing for the desirable feeling of his skin on yours.

Your tongues were quick to deny all logical solution and understanding, exploring each others mouths as if it was the last thing you could do, perhaps you would find all the empty promises and unfulfilled truths that he told you, while he searched for the regrettable words that you once said to him. Did you still wish you never said them?

"Tom!" You gasped into the kiss as he turned you around, lifting you onto the desk he begins to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher up your legs in desperation to feel something, he needed to know if it was the same, did age change you, or did your body still belong to him?

He kissed you harder now, his chest pressed to yours as he ignored all rational thinking, pushing you further and further in hopes to get what he needed, he knew you needed it too. "Don't make me stop." He repeated absentmindedly, struggling to conjure a single thought as he lost himself in the kiss, the taste of your mouth reviving feeling that he buried long ago.

You allowed yourself to be whisked away, a hand returning his intimate gesture as you placed it on his face, feeling the soft skin under your hand, the heat of his reddened cheeks rising the temperature of your touch. Your other hand found his bicep, gripping him through his suit jacket.

Tom would never allow his proud self to admit it, but he was falling victim to you, the same way that you used to be to him. He would submit to you if you asked him to, he would never refuse the opportunity of being completely under your mercy.

But right now, right now you were under his.

He let go of your waist, not breaking from the kiss as his hand moved past your thigh and to your core, his hand pushing past your underwear and entering two fingers into you without another thought.

You let out a yelp, accidentally biting his lip as you clenched around his fingers, earning a rewarding growl from him as he began to move his fingers inside of you.

"Oh," you pulled back from the kiss slightly, your lips attached by a thin string of saliva. "Oh, Tom."

Sex with your husband was fine when he was home, it would be a lie to claim that it was terrible. However it was never fulfilling, it was always about creating babies, it has always been about that. You decided to go on the potion after your second, Matilda was born, knowing that he wanted another, although you were not ready, you would never be ready, not for that anyway. He'd been wondering for the past decade about why you couldn't get pregnant anymore, you told him to take it as a sign from the universe that two was enough for your family, he had different ideology, he stated that your biological clock was on its last legs and that it was about to stop ticking.

Now you were an alive corpse to him, rather than a wife.

"Tom." You whined against his lips as he brought you into another kiss, his fingers deep inside you as he tried to find those lost moans and whimpers that he knew you could give him. Your sounds were music to his ears.

He pulled away from you, removing his fingers and placing his hand on your thigh for a moment, the wetness from his fingers painting your skin with your juices.

Finally letting go of your thigh, he stood up straight, his head pointed down to look at his feet as his hand hastily fumbled to remove his belt buckle, needing the sweet relief that he knew you could give him, even after all these years, you were willing to please him.

You brought your hands to the table, holding yourself up as you watched him, pushing any thought out of your mind in the hopes of having something of him again, whether it be a simple kiss to the temple, or the opportunity to ravish each others bodies once more, you just wanted him.

Finally he pulled it off, his hand grabbing on your thigh again as he brought your leg around his waist, his other hand going down to his length, watching you with a heaving chest as he aligned himself up with you, your dress concealing all that the lord above would not agree with.

For it was with Tom that you would cheat on your husband with.

He pushed himself inside of you, gripping your waist harder as he filled you completely, your hand coming to his side under his suit jacket, hiding your wedding ring under the clothes of your past lover.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," Tom groaned against you, beginning to rock his hips back and forth, his jaw clenched. "How long I've been waiting for you to come back to me, to have you, to hold you, to - fuck."

You nodded, throwing your head back as he fastened his pace your other arm struggling to keep your balanced as the desk rocked under you. "I've missed this so much." You let out a soft cry from under him.

He looked down again, his hand coming back up to your head, holding you up by the back of your neck, as if he was cradling something he worried could be broken. "He doesn't fuck you like this, does he?"

You shook your head, swallowing as your eyes threatened to close on you. "No, he barely fucks me at all." You admitted.

Tom sped up his pace again, his hips rutting into yours at a speed only he could hit. "He's in ownership of the most beautiful thing, and yet he doesn't know how to treat her?" He forced your head up to look at him. "He doesn't take advantage of this slick cunt?"

You shook your head another time, struggling to say anything as you tried to keep up with his movements, your hand beginning to slip from behind you.

"Or does it only get so wet for me?" Tom asked as he pulled your thigh up higher, causing you to slip back even more. "Answer me!"

You let out a string of moans before answering, not wanting to be too loud. "Yes," you finally breathed out, your mouth falling open. "It only gets wet for you."

Tom smirked and pulled your thigh higher, causing you to fall back onto the desk, your hand coming down to his forearm as he removed it from your head, running his fingers up your thigh before pushing your dress high enough to reveal the connection, his hand now on your waist as he rammed into you harder. "You've always belonged to me, haven't you?" The question came out more of a question of reassurance rather than an rhetorical one.

"Yes." You whined, your nails ripping into the skin of his arm as he fucked you.

He nodded, pushing his tongue to his cheek as he felt himself getting nearer and nearer to his destination, and by the looks of you and the reactions of your body, you were nearing yours too. "You're so beautiful." He admitted, something that had never left his mouth before, not in so little words. "So fucking perfect, moulded perfectly for me," he looked back down to you another time. "For me, yes?"

You nodded again, "for you, Tom, only for you."

He repaid you with a nod too, a slight motion of understanding and vulnerability as he continued his movements, his forehead becoming clad with sweat as his hair began to get stuck on it. "Cum for me then," he bit his lip. "Show me how good I make you feel, how only I can make you feel."

You arched your back at the sound of his words, your eyes forcing shut as your let out a long whine. "Inside of me." You ordered through a breathy moan.

Tom couldn't help but chuckle as you said this, knowing how badly you wanted this made him even more ramped up for the finish. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

He moved his hand to your stomach as he felt you clenching around him, your body shaking as he pressed down on the sensitive skin, forcing you to hit your climax with such speed and agility, your movements and reaction milking him of his as he began to fill you, a stream of sweat dripping from his forehead and onto the ground as he attempted to keep himself stationed, though your body was enough to make the man fold.

And now you had even more to talk about.

#harry potter #slytherin boys react #slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #smut

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starqueensthings · 3 months

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A very Crosshair Character Analysis

I posted a poll the other day looking for some opinions, and the prompt was: does Crosshair ever truly miss a shot? Meaning, of all the shots we’ve seen him aim and fire, how many of the few that didn’t land, were intended not to land? Does Crosshair have the skill and ability to land every shot he takes, and what of the ones that go astray (because there are some!)? The overarching, collective opinion (77% of votes) is that the sniper only misses a shot when he intends to, but let me explain why I was asking— the "methods behind my madness," if you will… (Fasten your seatbelts, and keep all extremities— and pitchforks— inside the ride!)

If Crosshair “doesn’t miss”, then there are some things that demand consideration and possible explanation. Please accept this weird internet essay as a deep dive into Crosshair’s character based solely on how I perceived his actions throught season one and two, and opinions I formed while watching his character develop. And while this could not be a Tech-approved analysis without touching on both his perceived good qualities and “flaws”, please know this is not a hate-on-Crosshair post.

Before I get into specifics, I think it’s imperative that we establish a basic understanding of his personality before the chip’s activation. While there is, sadly, not much “footage” we can use to form a true characterization of him, there are some instances we can touch on. The Skako/Anaxes arc from TCW and the earliest few moments of “Aftermath”, Crosshair is shown to be quite sarcastic, uninterested in trivial conversation, measurably combative toward those with differing opinions to his (seemingly all regs, including but not limited to Kix and Jesse), moderately argumentative toward leadership outside of his own Sergeant (mainly Rex, as Crosshair seems to have no qualms following Anakin’s or Cody’s orders), comforting to those who need it (Echo), and an overall good tactical team player.

So, let’s start this analysis by dialling things way back to their mission on Kaller and the complications that arose once Order-66 had been dropped. More specifically, hunting Caleb down in the forest. One of the things I noticed upon first watching that scene and every re-watch since, is how often Crosshair toggles back and forth between blaster bolt and stun cartridge on his rifle, as if constantly battling the indecision of exactly how he wanted to detain the Jedi. Now, if you remember, Tech com’s in and basically says [paraphrased obviously]: “Shit is starting to his the fan, we better get our butts outta here,” to which Hunter responds: “Can’t. Haven’t found the kid yet.” Crosshair then chimes in with, what I have long-deemed to be his catch phrase: “Wrong,” and proceeds to shoot the branch that Caleb is perched on. Not Caleb, who, in Crosshair's mind, should be the rightful recipient of a kill shot… the branch. Hmmmm.

If every one of Crosshair’s shots is so masterfully aimed that its deemed an automatic hit, and thus every miss is intentional (a notion of which I also believe, less one particular shot which I’ll touch on a little later), then there would’ve had to have been a portion of Crosshair’s cognition overriding that Order-66 command to eradicate all Jedi, even if it was only enough to fleetingly switch his gun to stun.

Not long afterward, we see his beloved Firepuncher saber-whacked from his hands, and Crosshair opts to then continue his attack with his backup DC17. Missed shot, missed shot, missed shot, missed shot. Were these blown shots intentional as well? And if so, why does he continue to assail the Padawan? Is Crosshair only able to fight off the command to kill Caleb while his finger is on the trigger, possibly knowing that’s when the fight against his own mind becomes most crucial? Is he clinging to some autonomy in the moments where he’s not posing an imminent threat to those around him, like during the flight back to Kamino? Or can he only resist the chip’s influence when the urge to do something terrible is paramount?

Let’s skip ahead, shall we, to when the Batch is attempting to flee Kamino with Omega. Crosshair sashays onto the landing platform in his new gothboy armour, fresh out of an undescribed chip “augmentation” procedure (whatever that eludes to), and proceeds to have a small stand off with Hunter— both of whom have their weapons directed pointedly away from each other (interesting). During the succeeding fire fight, we see Crosshair line up several well aimed shots, many of which appear to be only inches away from landing on their “intended target”. He eventually succeeds in shooting Wrecker in the shoulder, and I’d like to point out that this shot lands almost exactly where Wrecker was hit by the training droid some hours/days previously. Was the placement of this shot intentional? Did Crosshair pick that particular target area knowing Wrecker would survive the damage?

The shot I find most intriguing is the one near-perfectly aimed at Hunter’s head (lol— brothers). You know, the one where Omega saves the day by unexpectedly blasting Crosshair’s rifle out of his hands. If the chip's activation was the reason he was now hunting them and claiming their treason, why had that moment seen him hesitate? Perhaps he needed a second to line up his shot, you might argue to which I would say argue: we’ve seen him use the active recoil from that same rifle to line up his next shot many times in quick succession with a zero margin of error (see the Skako/Anaxes arc in TCW and the first few minutes of Kaller), including when each shot was aimed at targets both more dynamic in action and further away than Hunter was.

Crosshair then takes several shots at the ramp of the Marauder as they take off, all of which are well aimed… and simultaneously redundant; the passengers are taking cover in the ship already, the Marauder has begun its take off, the ramp is closing, Crosshair running whilst knowing he can’t reach them. I personally attribute those last few shots as tokens of both anger and resentment for being left behind, not ones made with the intention of killing. I think that he expected his brothers to know him better than to believe these actions were of sound mind— he thought they’d be able to deduce that he was fighting a losing battle inside his own head, yet they were quick to believe he would actually entertain such sudden and aggressive hostilities toward them.

At this point, you might be itching to argue that maybe Crosshair's accuracy is largely diminished when he opts for a pistol instead of his rifle, and while I can't dispell this theory, I can provide some statistics. We see Crosshair use a pistol only four times in the entirety of the show so far: 1. against Caleb on Kaller (objective miss), 2. against the Batch Batch as their leaving Kamino (objective miss), 3. against a soldier while he and his new elite soldier squad infiltrate Saw's camp (direct hit), and 4. against Leiutenant Nolan when that asshole he gets on Crosshair's last nerve at the Outpost (direct hit). I will leave it up to you to decide if the theory of whether his skill level changes based on the weapon he's firing holds any merit, or is worth further discussion.

Moving on— the 99-clan is reunited on Bracca. Let’s turn our attention to the shot Crosshair takes at Tech whilst the latter was emerging from the ion engine, and I’m going to include pics this time to support my assertion.

Crosshair has an undeniably clear shot— his line of sight is not impeded, there are no environmental or atmospheric disturbances to disrupt his composure, he was ready and waiting for them to appear. The shot that he fires lands a good distance in front of Tech. Though the unexpectedness of it was enough to startle the genius into nearly falling out of the engine, I believe it was intentionally aimed this way (see below). A warning shot if you will. A “Hello, I outsmarted you and am waiting at your point of attempted escape. Stop trying, and get down here because I don’t want my new imperial cohorts to take aim for me and kill you” shot.

The next arc (Ryloth) quickly demonstrates that any neurological augmentations he’s been subject to (at this point, I believe we've been shown two, but have been led to believe there were several), have had no effect on Crosshair’s infamous sniper skills. First, he fires a perfectly aimed tracking beacon onto the moving target of Gobi’s ship. Then, upon the ship’s return, uses a single shot to disable one of the engines; a shot taken from, what appears to be, several kilometres away and having the immediate desired affect of disabling the ship. Finally, he makes the astoungingly precise shot (and I’m using astoundingly very heavily here) of blasting Senator Taa in the head. This shot, more than the previously mentioned two, are a sign of his impeccable marksmanship. Let me remind you, he was an undisclosed albeit very far distance away, on the opposite ridge of an enshadowed canyon, and is still able to shoot the senator in a place in which HE WOULD SURVIVE the attack. And not just survive, “make a full recovery” as Rampart claims afterward. This is unrivalled accuracy, and while I do not support the assassination attempt in itself, I can not deny how much skill was required to have achieved it.

My next point is something I have always personally found quite compelling, and it occurs in an off-the-cuff, likely forgotten about piece of dialogue.

Brief context: Crosshair has scooped Hunter off of Daro, they’ve landed on Kamino, and the duo (and a third soldier) are on their way to the Command Center to await the rest of the squads arrival. One of Crosshair’s elite troopers waits until he departs the platform before approaching Rampart and saying: “I question the clone’s motives with his old squad. I don’t trust any of them.” I’m intrigued to know where such a potent mistrust began. Is it simply because he’s a clone? A person born and raised unnaturally in comparison to someone with a traditional gestation and upbringing? Or has this soldier previously identified possible cracks in Crosshair’s imperial facade? Has Crosshair failed to hide his distress in quiet moments where he possibly longs for the life he had with his brothers? What is it that triggers this soldier to suspect Crosshair has an ulterior motive in capturing his old squad, and one that they’re apparently worried would not coincide with Rampart’s ideals?

Ramparts reply, in my opinion, gives us a well disguised clue: “If his plan fails, none of them will be a problem any longer.” If his plan fails. Crosshair’s plan. Crosshair has a plan for mobilizing his old family into one place, and what is it? Is he concealing the hidden objective of a reunion with his brothers under the guise of squad assassination? Was it always his plan to eliminate his new elite squad members, hence the perfectly placed mirror pucks we see him utilize in the training room, to make room for his old squad?

Remember, Hunter asks him some time later: “So this was your grand plan? Bring us here and kill us?” Crosshair answers: “If I wanted you dead, you would be.” And this is a statement which I believe to be incontrovertibly true. He has never wanted his family dead, despite having both the resources and skill to ensure they would be if that’s what he desired, but no. He’s angry that he’d inherently felt more loyalty to them than they had shown to him; frustrated that their choices post-Kaller did not align with his expectations of their choices, disheartened that they hadn't initially recognized to his choices to be ones made outside his character, and Crosshair now eagerly rebuffs their every excuse. Reference the spoken: “They don’t leave their own behind… most of the time.” . . . “You tried to kill us, we didn’t have a choice.” . . . “And I did?”

And follows the: “We’re loyal to each other, not some empire.” . . . “You weren’t loyal to me. I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. And it’s why I’m going to give you what you never gave me: a chance…” conversation. (Just stab me in the heart and twist the knife around, Jennifer!!!! Ouch!!! I'm still not over this!)

Was this his plan? To lure his brothers back to their home, and indirectly beg them to join the empire? To offer them the chance to join the ranks of those who have relentlessly hunted them, in the hopes that there might be some semblance of safety in conformity? To reunite the elite squad that they were in the days of the Republic (the original elite squad of which Rampart is trying to replicate with tactically inferior recruited bodies), simply for the safety that joining the empire could potentially promise? Is this the first demonstration of Crosshair using hostility to shield those he cares about from the callous clutches of the empire that he’d become painfully familiar with?

Regardless of the still-unexplained motive, Crosshair’s plan fails. Hunter has either become, or has always been, as protective of his family as Crosshair is stubborn, and he would never willingly subject his brothers (and now sister) to a life of committing abhorrent war crimes in the name of an Emperor who rose, uninhibited, to extreme and unnatural levels of power whilst abolishing the Republic of which they'd previously served. That’s not what their squad was made to do, despite Crosshair trying to convince Hunter perhaps maybe it was.

Unsurprisingly, Crosshair’s pitch falls on deaf ears, even despite killing his elite squad as an offering of trust. Once the training droids have been taken care of and the fray had subsided, Crosshair stands to find Hunter now has a blaster pointed directly at him, as does Wrecker— (Echo and Tech, curiously, keep their weapons pointed away), and the tables have quickly turned. Hunter begins his own plea to his brother, and it leads to a very ambiguous admission. Hunter: “Crosshair, forget the empire. This isn’t you, it’s your inhibitor chip.” Crosshair: “Wrong. I had my chip removed a long time ago.”

What degree of this admission is true? All of it? Parts of it? None of it? Was Crosshair only told that his chip was removed during one of the apparently many augmentations he’d been subject to? Was it removed and replaced with an alternative? Or was it truly extracted, and his questionable actions have been entirely his own? If so, was it the fall of the Republic that spooked him enough to join the ranks of an unknown empire? Did the thought of disobeying orders bother him enough to sacrifice the family dynamic he’s always known, and replace it with a safe sense of conformity? And if this is the case, was missing all of the shots he’d aimed at his brothers, a veiled display of love?

Atop the water hours later, Tipoca City has fallen. Due to their imminent death, Crosshair and his squad have been forced to work together to survive. Tech makes a lingering comment about Crosshair’s unyielding personality being outside of his control, and it’s still ringing in our ears at this point because it implies that a lot of this misunderstanding may just be because of how strongly Crosshair forms opinions, and how only one of his brothers understands that about him. Omega is mid-drowning trying to save her droid friend, Hunter is .4 seconds away from leaping into Kamino’s frigid and turbulent waters to try and retrieve her… and we see Crosshair grab his rifle. This is a shot, of any, that I would expect him to miss— water both impedes and shifts the trajectory of a projectile and mathmatically accommodating for this would take some serious, well thought out calculation; the only usable light for aiming is from the burning remnants of their home, and the container in which Crosshair is perched heaves and tips with every wave.

But he doesn’t miss. He, again, demonstrates that he can make any and every shot he wants to. He lands his shot on AZI’s chest (not dissimilar to where he shot Wrecker, on an obviously smaller scale), and pulls Omega from the depths of the water. Upon turning to see his brothers poised and ready to shoot him if they deemed the need appropriate, I think Crosshair realizes how monumental the fracturing of their squad was. They have no trust left for him. His actions, powered by an inhibitor chip or not, quickly led them to believe he was not the person they knew him to be. As much as he desperately wanted to them understand how powerful the control of the chip was, they didn’t. And I think this moment robs Crosshair of some of his anger and resentment he harboured toward them, and reaffirms that his only option now is to follow the path he was first influenced to follow, regardless of if it’s what he wants now or not. He then chooses abandonment. He chooses to be left stranded on that platform, likely aware that the potential he’d perish there was high. His separation was now his choice.

Let’s move on to Season Two! Episode 3, appropriately named “the Solitary Clone”, indirectly shows us more about Crosshair than I believe any previous episode ever has. Crosshair’s marksmanship is, once again, on full display as he takes down an old separatist tank with one shot (I’m still reeling over it, ok? That shit made me horny). And I can’t move on from this episode without also mentioning how it ended— we know Crosshair has respect for Commander Cody, that was demonstrated by his willingness to follow Cody’s command while he rebuked others’ in the Skako/Anaxes arc. I think it’s also apparent by the return of his notorious sarcasm, that Crosshair is happy to see a familiar face, one of which he may have previously deemed a friend. Cody, in return, places tidbit of trust in Crosshair (I’m also going to link this post in case anyone is curious about my thoughts on Cody’s initial comments). Not only does the commander inch toward the precarious conversation about “going rogue” and the Order-66 debacle, but Cody lets Crosshair take the lead after their shuttle crashes on Desix. “Trust me,” Crosshair begs, and Cody accedes.

They gain access to the strong hold; Crosshair, Cody and Nova (RIP) struggle only mildly with the droid forces ("Droideka's."). Crosshair demonstrates more inhuman trigonometry abilities and immaculate skill by using those mirror pucks to shoot around corners. Cody saves Crosshair’s tushy when a Commando droid gets a little too close to the sniper. Crosshair lowers his weapon at Cody’s request while they negotiate with Tawny Ames, a motion he had otherwise refused earlier in the episode (the civillians they come across behind a closed door— Cody lowers his gun and reassures them, Crosshair does not.) And when the Empire shows its true colours by demanding that Cody renege on his promise of peace and assassinate the governor, Crosshair does not hesitate to answer the call.

Now superficially, this act would appear as nothing more than a repeat of his crimes on Onderon, or Crosshair simply “following orders” as he had previously developed into a sort of mantra. But I think it’s much more layered than that. I think Crosshair recognized that Cody would be subject punishment did he not comply, a notion reinforced by his extended time at Rampart’s elbow, where it was regularly displayed that clones were of little significane and use to this new military regime. What would happen to Cody as a result of his disobedience? Would he simply be demoted from Commander? Would he be court-martialed and questioned? Detained and imprisoned? Killed? Is this why Crosshair took action into his own hands, and “did what needed to be done”? To protect Cody from the repercussions of disobeying a direct order? Or, more harrowingly and something that I am more inclined to believe, was Crosshair protecting Cody from the poignant shame and self-hatred that he knew the Commander would feel if he DID comply? Was Crosshair unwilling to let the mind of another clone be tainted by the emotionless demands of the empire, so he took the action upon himself? Was his objectively unnecessary and cruel attack, an action of deep seated respect and appreciation? Is this why Cody's comment about living with the consequences of their decisions affects Crosshair so deeply as they separate at the end of the mission?

Let’s dial back to the debated intention of Crosshair’s shots— are his missed shots deliberately missed? Our next stop on this journey is The Outpost (my personal favourite, and not because of the dreamy, sardonic, bearded Commander Mayday), but because of the overt growth that we see Crosshair attain. (Here’s an analysis I posted a while back about some of the messages I think the writers were trying to convey via symbolism throughout Crosshair's episodes to this point). If you've read it and even partially subscribe to my theory, then we can agree Crosshair’s mentality has been shifting little by little since we saw him last, and his attachment to Mayday (and the adjacent benefit that Crosshair rediscovers in companionship and brotherhood) is proof of this. So here’s what happens— raiders make it inside the perimeter of the Outpost thanks to limited man-power and degrading equipment. Crosshair heads directly to where he knows he can play to his strengths: high ground. He’s taking quick and careful aim at the retreating insurgent when the nearby shuttle explodes, and something peculiar happens. Whether it be the blinding flash of the explosion magnified significantly by his riflescope that had caused him such immediate discomfort, or something more (chip alert? Maybe? Or residual effects of having it augmented so many times?), but Crosshair’s subsequent shot is not of his regular quality. He hits his target, so I am not deeming this as a shot missed, but Crosshair has a track record of “one-shots” or “kill shots” of which this is not.

I’m inclined to ramble on for centuries about this episode because there is simply so much development, growth, and symbolism that occurs in those 28 minutes— it’s truly a masterpiece in story telling, but I’ve deviated too far from the intention of this essay (novel) so let’s trek forward.

Let’s get to Tipping Point, and what I would deem to be his only failed shot (and the implications of what it might mean). Crosshair has been sedated, interrogated, injected, neglected, confused, and abused since arriving on Tantiss. (You guessed it, I also have an analysis of this episode, structured a little differently than my previous but still helps to break down what I deem to be the motives behind his actions). Hemlock first attempts to bribe Crosshair with his freedom in exchange for information on his brothers, and as such, divulges his true need for Omega. Crosshair, who has never really had the chance to bond with her like his brothers have, refuses to provide any information. And why? Having only a surface level relationship with Omega, and having rebuffed her advances for companionship several times, why would he protect her in the face of imminent chemical torture? Because it directly protects them, and they are no longer being hunted by a squad of recruited bodies lead by an angry brother... but by a twisted and cruel doctor who's methods were proven unorthodox and tortuous upon immediate introduction.

Upon awakening from another round of interrogation, Crosshair understands the time to act is diminishing quickly, as is his ability to refuse Hemlock the information he wants. Each interrogation leaves him physically and mentally weaker; the time is act is now. He shoots and kills the pair of troopers, as well as the interrogation droid, with no difficulty. He stuns Emerie the scientist (possibly recognizing her clone accent for what it is, thus opting not to kill her?), steals her access card, and stumbles from the room. His body is no where near recovered from whatever toxin that droid injected him with, and he staggers through the unknown halls. Quickly coming across a pair of troopers guarding a doorway, the next shot is the only one that I believe he truly missed, and understandably so. It lands on the wall between their heads, and Crosshair quickly realizing his failure, shoots them with the following two rounds.

While missing that shot is largely inconsequential to the overall story, I think it’s an important anecdote for his character growth. In that moment, Crosshair is both physically weakened and mentally desperate to get a message to his brothers, and it’s the combination of those that had his aim faulty. He’s found himself nothing more than a man broken… stripped of the celebrated titles he’d once possessed and mentally mined until simply raising and aiming a blaster, a motion he’d once found more innate as breathing, was a motion difficult for him. He's forsaken his family, lost his purpose, been rendered nothing but an experiment and a tool.

So to summarize this egregiously long essay of Crosshair’s character, I’d like to reiterate that he is human. As we all do, he has faults. A lot of his reasoning is arguably flawed. He makes poor decisions, often in haste without considering the ripple effect it may have. He is extremely stubborn, and he does not communicate well. And there are things he’s done and decisions he’s made that I can not personally elucidate and would love to openly discuss with other Crosshair enthusiasts (example, trying to incinerate his brothers in an ion engine— did he assume Hunter would double back again, and this is Crosshair’s attempt at forcing them into the open? Or is this one of the moments when he cannot fight off the chips control?). You don’t have to like him. You don’t have to agree with him or anything he says. You don’t have to like me or agree with anything I say, but as we head into the third and final Act of this remarkable story, it is worth determining which of his actions are superficially misunderstood, and which have a deeper meaning that a casual viewer might simply overlook.

Thank you for attending the Ted Talk that no one asked for.

Holly ♥️

**forewent the taglist as this is not my typical content

#Crosshair character analysis #character analysis #long post #starqueensrandomthoughts #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #tbb crosshair #Crosshair tbb #batch batch Crosshair #Crosshair bad batch #please don’t attack me lol

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