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borathae · 2 months

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BTS Reaction to: Period Sex

Genre: Smut

Gender: female

Warnings: period sex, mention of period blood, individual warnings per member if necessary

Wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: there was a time where i couldn't imagine period sex because of 🤪trauma🤪 now i'm over here eating it tf uppp 🧡

Namjoon

cw: subbish!Joon, guilt, idk why this got a lil angsty haha

He’d be the kind of guy to pull out instantly and then panic. “Baby, this is bad. This is really bad. You’re bleeding, oh god. What do we do?”

“I’m bleeding? But I don’t feel anything.”

You’d sit up to check and Namjoon would be a mess, gripping his own hair and staring at the blood soaked sheets in horror.

“I knew that this would happen one day. Stupid Namjoon, why can you be careful once? Everything I touch, I break. I tried so hard to be gentle with you. Stupid Namjoon, I’m so fucking rough.”

“Huh? Joonie, don’t say that. I think it’s just my period.”

“Your period?”

“Yeah”, you’d touch your own folds, “yeah, that’s my period. It feels like it. Kinda gross, isn’t it?”

Namjoon would shake his head instantly.

“It’s not gross. You’re not gross. Nothing about you’s gross”, he’d assure you with kisses to your neck and shoulders.

“And you’re not stupid or rough”, you’d whisper with scratches to his scalp, “slip it in like this, Joonbug. Me sitting by the edge and you standing up. Wanna have my big boy all inside me as I hug him close.”

“I want to, I got soft though. Sorry, I panicked.”

“That’s okay. Look at me.”

Namjoon would gaze down at you, sighing dreamily as you slid his softened cock back inside.

“Let’s look at each other till you’re hard again.”

Namjoon would shudder and grip you as gently as possible.

“It, it won’t take long”, he’d promise you breathily.

“Good, that’s good. My handsome Joonie. You treat me so gently.”

“Baby…holy fuck…ahm…”

Seokjin

He’d be so mature about it, but in a funny way because he knows that you are really embarrassed about it. Some people in your past were assholes about it, which made you insecure about the entire deal. So when it’d happen, he would be mature about it. You’d be on top, riding him with your head rolled back in bliss. One of his hands would be on your tits, playing with them, the other would be on your hip with his thumb on your clit, rolling slow circles. He wouldn’t notice it at first until hot, wet slick started to smear all over his thighs and crotch. So he’d lift you for a moment, looking up at you instantly to check if you had noticed. You wouldn’t because he’d have gotten you so far gone in bliss.

“Are you hurting, darling?” he would still check up on you just in case it isn’t your period.

“No, feels good…so good…”

“That’s good to hear. You feel so good too.”

“Oh god, Jinnie…”

He’d make you cum first and then would catch you as you fled into his arms with giggles.

“Do you feel good? My darling, do you feel good?” he’d check up on you as his hips thrust up into your tightened heat. Honest confession, he’d be really into period sex because you get so wet and fucking warm and his cock would just LOVE to be inside you when you’re like this. So he’d definitely keep going after your orgasm ‘cause he’s pussy drunk for you.

“Yes”, you’d whimper and grip his hair, “please don’t stop.”

The confession would happen during aftercare, once he made you cum too many times to count. He’d make sure you’d be giggly and happy and only then he’d drop it.

“I want you to know that there is nothing about you which would ever gross me out.”

“No? Not even my nuclear stink farts?”

Seokjin would laugh with you.

“Okay maybe those, yeah.”

And you would laugh even harder and he’d be assured that it wouldn’t trigger you anymore.

“I’m just telling you because I noticed that you started your period.”

“I did?” you’d gasp and tense up just a little.

“It’s no big deal, we can wash it off.”

And he would be nervous for a moment until you relaxed again and chuckled.

“Oh god, no wonder it felt so slippery.”

“Mhm, yeah. It’s so hot. You were so wet.”

Yoongi

Based on Suchwita and him confessing that he passes out when seeing blood, I feel like he’d be a mess lmaoo. If he knows that your period is coming or that it is already there and you fuck, he doesn’t get squeamish around the sight because he knows that it’s not technically blood blood. But if it comes as a surprise and he thinks that he hurt you to the point of bleeding? Boy will probably drop next to you all passed out and with a fainting-victorian-lady level of whimper. It’s honestly a little funny to imagine him dropping all xOx with his boner all bloody and his thighs all messy. You’d be the one having to keep him company until he wakes again. Once he does finally wake up, he’d instantly want to apologise (with tears and on his knees) but you’d stop him with a fond “it’s just my period, you little baby”, followed by a kiss and a chuckled, “how are you? I lost you for a moment.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m a little traumatised. I thought that I’d hurt you.”

“Nope. You just fucked me so good, you fucked my period outta me.”

At that Yoongi’s cheeks would flush blood red and he’d stutter and mutter his words.

“Don’t say, say that oh my, my god.”

To which you’d giggle and smooch him, “you’re such a cutie, Yoongi love. Let’s hop in the show and get clean, yeah?”

“Yeah, uh, fuck sorry for passing out. That was embarrassing.”

“It’s fine. I know you’re a big baby.”

“Hey! Not cool”, he’d whine with a pout, pouting harder when you tried to kiss it away just so you would try again.

Hoseok

cw: fingering

It would happen during foreplay. You’d be making out, he’d have two of his long fingers buried inside you and you’d pump his cock slowly. Tension would be at its breaking point, you’d both wanted the other abysmally. And so you gave in. Hoseok’s slickened fingers would grip the pillow.

“Wait!”

Too late, the mess was already on the fabric. You’d both be staring at the red spot, then ogle your middle.

“I, uh…” you’d begin, feeling nervous and a little insecure. Hoseok is a lovely, wonderful boyfriend but it’s still a little embarrassing to randomly start your period in the middle of something as sexy as intercourse.

“I mean, the mess is already made. What bad is gonna do a little more?” he would instantly assure you because he’d sense your discomfort. He is honest. It happened before that you started your period during sex and he doesn’t think it gross. He’d actually be really excited about it because you are so much warmer and wetter when you’re on your period. You are also a lot more sensitive, which finally explains why he accidentally made you cum during foreplay.

“Are you serious?” you’d gasp, but with an excited tingle in your stomach.

“Very. I won’t let a little blood stop me. Are you down too?”

“Yeah, uh, holy fuck Hobi. Yeah I am.”

“That’s my girl. Now spread those sexy legs of yours and let me fuck it out of you.”

You would follow instantly and seconds later he would slip his engorged cock into your dripping cunt while his fingers slipped to your clit and your name left him through gritted teeth.

“So fucking wet. Gotta fucking love your pussy, fuck baby…”

Jimin

He’d be such a worried bean. It would happen during the soft, romantic kind of sex. You and he had been tangled up in missionary for a while. Body heats were raised, lips puffy from kissing and breaths sped up. He would have to break away for a moment to give his arms some rest. His hand would slip down to your middle to rub your clit, his eyes following his touch. “Baby, you’re bleeding!” his exclaim would be instant, his worry obvious in his voice, “holy shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You would sit up as best as possible to check it out yourself. You wouldn’t be in pain, so hearing his words would be confusing to you at first until you’d see his blood coated cock and your messy thighs.

“No, I uh, I guess I started my period. Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

At that Jimin would instantly jump into caring mode. He’d cup your face and kiss your lips as he’d whisper sweet words of encouragement.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so beautiful, my sweetheart. You’re not in pain, right?”

“No. No pain at all”, you’d sigh and grasp his hair because his hips would roll into you slowly and gently to distract you and get both of you back into the mood. His skilled hips wouldn’t be able to stay still now that he knew that the mess was natural and not made because of him being too rough.

“No pain?”

“No…pain…”

Jimin, who would feel you clench and tighten around him and who would taste every single one of your sighs, would lie you down gently again and slide his thumb back to your clit to rub her.

“Does this feel good to you?”

“Yes Mimi…so good…”

Taehyung

cw: Dom!Tae, loving degradation ("my slut")

He wouldn’t say anything about it because he would have already had a gist. You get a certain way when your period is close, so he would have picked up on the signs. It would still come as a surprise because there would be far more blood than he imagined there to be. You’d be on your side with one leg bend around his waist as he fucked into you. He’d be kneeling, your thigh under him and between his own meaty thighs. His hips would be colliding with your ass with each deep, passionate thrust, his big hands would claim your soft body in strong grips and tender touches. You’d be moaning so much, shaking in his hold as he’d fuck the period horny out of you (you’d have been moody yet horny all day until he finally decided enough is enough and took care of it). One moment his cock would be glistening in your pleasure, the next it’s a deep red. The red would begin gushing out of you instantly, spreading all over his crotch and your ass and Taehyung would smirk, admiring it with blown out pupils and a throbbing cock. He fucked you good enough that your body finally gave up. That’s the kind of remedy he wanted to be for you.

“Am I fucking you good, mhm? Is my little slut finally satisfied?”

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

“Of course you are. That’s my pretty slut. Keep moaning for me. You’re such a good girl”, he’d growl and pound into you harder, gritting his teeth as you wailed for him in pure ecstasy.

He wouldn’t mention it until after he drew multiple orgasms out of you and you’d be dripping in his seed. You’d be all cuddled and snuggled up and he’d kiss your face thoroughly with his strong arms around you.

“You started your period, by the way.”

“I did what?!”

“Mhm, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh god, this is so bad, I-”

“I said; don’t worry about it. I had a gist, I laid out a towel. Nothing’s gonna get dirty.”

“You had a gist?”

“Mhm, you get a certain way.”

“I do?”

“Mhm, you get cranky but horny. I know I can make you happy again with a good dicking down. Kinda wanted it to happen, which is why I fucked you like a slut.”

“You’re actually so annoying sometimes, oh my god”, you’d whine, making him chuckle and kiss your lips.

“Mhm, love you too.”

Jungkook

cw: Dom!Kook, strength kink

Another candidate for worried bean, but he would try to be polite about it. The sex you and he would be having would be a little rough. You’d be on all fours, drooling all over the sheets as he’d rearrange your insides with skilled thrusts. He wouldn’t notice it at first, too preoccupied with having his head thrown back and moaning with closed eyes as your puffy cunt was milking him oh so good. His big hands would be gripping you, leaving marks and tender spots. It would honestly be so passionate and hot. Then he’d start feeling it. You’d get wetter and wetter and wetter. He’d just have to see for himself. He’d be cocky at first until he’d see the bloody mess all over his cock and thighs. Even your ass would be covered in it. He’d stop instantly, which would earn him your fingers gripping his hips in an attempt to get him to move.

“Don’t stop please, please.”

“Baby, I wanna tell you something.”

“What?” You’d move your head just enough that you could gawk at him, “now??”

“It’s really important. You should really know.”

“What is it?” you’d sound out of breath and a little annoyed.

“I think you, uhm, started your period.”

“Really?” you’d tense up, move and squirm in an obviously embarrassed way. And Jungkook would instantly feel bad because he didn’t want to embarrass you. So he’d lie his muscular body over yours and kiss your neck and shoulders, intertwining his hands with yours so he could pin them into the sheets.

“That’s not gonna stop us, right?” he’d rasp, feeling you clench around him.

“You’re not grossed out?”

“Not in the slightest. You’re still comfortable, yeah? Nothing hurts?””

“No…just want you to move please.”

“Everything my babygirl wants. Mhm, I’m so lucky, I’ve got the prettiest girl in the world.”

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cowboybarzy · 8 months

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So y/n goes to this game like always everyone knows she’s barzal wife or girlfriend when the fight happens something snaps and she’s like yelling acting like there gonna hear her saying “HEY THATS MY MAN DONT TOUCH HIM LIKE THAT” people are recording her or she lands on the jumbo screen and the guys saying there’s go barzal gf or wife love to see this. They both end up going viral on Twitter mat was over the fight but y/n still was mad and going on and on saying wtf I would of squashed him if I was right there because no one grabs my man like that 😤 mat finds it entertaining because he’s never seen her this worked up and he’s kinda turned on by it knowing she would fight for him LOL even tho he wouldn’t allow it but he ends up kissing her by how in love he is with her maybe gets alittle smutty

now that fight last night was quite something and god Mathew I want you to do it again! but not too often, I need you to keep looking pretty.

wc: 820

cw: alludes to sex, but not really smut (sorry I’m working on other smut rn haha and didn’t have much time to write today)

gif made by @pyotrkochetkov

You turned around from the conversation you were having with a friend to see Mat finally come out of the locker room area. When he was close enough, you could see there was a big red bruise coating his nose and part of his cheek from the fight he was in earlier. “Aw, baby, are you ok?”

“Perfectly fine.” His smile was sweet and crooked as he wrapped his arms around you. Your lips brushed gently against his bruised skin then finally landed on his lips.

Once you were sure he was fine, you pulled apart and playfully punched him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking? Fighting? Maty! You know my rule, no teeth, no wedding.”

He laughed. “I know your absolutely ridiculously absurd rule. Don’t worry, I’ll have all of my teeth for the big day.” He kissed the top of your head, still getting excited at the mention of your wedding even after months of being engaged and it being pretty much all planned already. “And he attacked me. I wasn’t about the back down. I’m not scared of a little fight.”

A rush of heat flowed through you, seeing him get worked up again. And you had to admit, as much as you hated the fighting aspect of hockey, it was kind of hot seeing Mat defend himself and get into a little brawl.

“And it looks like you’re not as mad as you’re pretending to be.” He totally picked up on your vibes.

“Alright, so maybe it was a little hot to watch,” you admitted. “But don’t make it a regular thing.”

“Sure about that?” His eyebrows raised and a little mischievous grin appeared as he pulled you closer to him by your hips.

“At least not until after the wedding. I need you looking pretty for the pictures.”

“Alright, no more fights until the wedding.”

———

“Ok, so maybe I will keep up the fights if you’re going to be this turned on afterwards,” Mat mumbled out of breath when you rolled off him, back onto the mattress.

“You made a promise,” you responded, yelping when his lips were back on your skin in seconds. His teeth graded your neck, down your naked chest.

“It’s very hard to resist.” He came back up to kiss you passionately. You had lost count of the amount of times you had sex within the last few hours of coming home from the game, sleeping, and waking up to more sex.

“Alright, get off me I’m starving.” He fell back into the pillows with a laugh, but instead of getting up to go to the kitchen, you grabbed your phone for your daily morning phone time. Mat did the same.

To your surprise, there were a ton of notifications. Texts, instagram, twitter, etc. And also from people you didn’t even know. A quick investigation told you that you were in fact the reason for all the fuss.

“You seen this?” Mat had the same expression on his face, as he was looking through the exact same type of notifications. People sending a video of you from the game last night, yelling during Mat’s fight. The person who filmed it was too far away to pick up audio, but based on reading your lips, people could tell you were yelling something the lines of ‘HEY THATS MY MAN DONT TOUCH HIM LIKE THAT’.

You looked to Mat for his reaction, but he was just laying there, naked, watching the video over and over again, his jaw slowly dropping. You watched him nervously, internally cringing that a video of you like that was currently trending. Mat finally faced you.

“My girl.” He laughed and was back on top of you in seconds. “My feisty girl. And here I thought you were upset I was fighting, but you would have easily stepped in.”

“I was just trying to protect your pretty face.” He smiled wide and started attacking you with kisses, sucking and biting your skin.

“I had no idea you could get so worked up.”

“I’ve been hanging around you for too long.” He chuckled and kissed you deeply. You could never get enough of him.

“Protecting me. I’m supposed to be the one protecting you.”

“You clearly need it.” You loved teasing him, especially since his kisses got more intense the longer it went on.

“I’m pretty sure I won that fight last night, so I can protect myself.” He got on his knees and his lips wandered down your body. One of his hands grabbed your breast, massaging it, while his lips started assaulting the other. He licked around your nipple, sucking and biting it playfully. “But my job is to take care of you.”

He moved further down the mattress, getting ahold of your thighs and roughly pulling them apart. “Now be a good girl and let me do my job.”

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey fics #hockey imagine #nhl smut #smut #hockey smut

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puck-luck · 4 months

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good vibrations | trevor zegras

warnings: masturbation, allusions to voyeurism and exhibitionism, sex while under the influence, dirty talk, pet names (duh), first time(s) (wait,,, TWO first times checked off the list?) pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!reader summary/request: "he finds out that she's never used a vibrator so he buys her one and maybe kinda helps her use it for the first time?? like he incorporates it into foreplay or something idk (i just feel like he'd really want to be there the first time she experiences that haha he just gets so excited about her experiencing all these different kinds of pleasure for the first time and he feels so lucky he's the one she's experiencing all her firsts with and that she trusts him enough to be her guide)", "he makes her squirt and she's never done that before so she's embarrassed but he thinks it's so hot" wc: 3000

Trevor hadn’t planned for this when he brought the joint to your lips. He hadn’t known– you should have told him, to be fair, because you knew– that you get horny when you get high. If he had known, maybe he wouldn’t have pulled you onto his lap with his friends in the room. He didn’t realize that you’d be squirming in his lap from the get-go, your limbs a little sweaty and stuck together in the pocket of your joints.

You were at the point of your high when you got a little self-conscious of your movements. You weren’t sure if you were being loud and drawing attention to yourself just by leaning over to grab your water bottle. You cuddled it close to your chest, curled up on Trevor’s lap. You would catch yourself holding your breath, then you’d let out a huge sigh, and the cycle would continue as soon as you stopped paying attention to your breath. You truly held your breath when Trevor’s hand found a place on your knee, stroking over your skin gently.

It felt a bit lucky that you were at Trevor’s apartment. Just down the hall was Trevor’s bed, a big mattress with fresh sheets after his most recent trip. You felt wet already, just knowing that you were on Trevor’s lap and you’d be sleeping in that bed with him later in the night.

You bring your hand up to Trevor’s face, thumbing over his jaw.

He looks down at you, a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “Hi, baby,” Trevor greets. He shifts your body in his arms to hold you more tightly.

“So pretty, Trev,” you say, marveling over his features. Everything looks hyper-focused, from the faded freckles on his cheeks to the peach fuzz on his cheeks and the slightly darker hair above his lip. “Wish you could touch me.”

Trevor’s eyes grow wide and he chokes on his breath, coughing to cover it up. “Really?” He asks, his voice low and scratchy. “Here?”

You shake your head, giggling quietly. You press your hand to your lips to stifle the laughter. “Not here. In your room.”

Trevor bites his lip, eyes scanning your face. He leans down and takes a sip from your water bottle, his gaze looking down your body into your cleavage as he does so. “I have a present for you,” Trevor says. “Do you want it?”

Your eyes light up. You nod, feeling dizzy with the movement. “What is it?”

Trevor lifts you from his lap and stands, throwing you over his shoulder. You laugh out loud and Trevor excuses the two of you from the room, telling his friends to lock the doors behind them if they leave.

Trevor tosses you onto the bed and you bounce a little before settling on your back, head propped up with a pillow. Trevor’s back is to you as he digs through his closet, mumbling to himself. He finds whatever it is that he’s looking for and turns around, to face you, with a slender little package between his fingers.

“What is it?” You ask again.

“It’s for my roadies,” Trevor supplies, tossing you the package.

You sit up to catch it, turning the box over in your hand. You gasp. It’s a vibrator. You look up and see Trevor sitting in the chair across from the bed. He spreads his legs and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Can I watch you?” Trevor asks.

“I want you to touch me,” You reply.

“I will,” Trevor assures you. A smile spreads over his face, revealing his teeth. “After I watch you come.”

“Trevor.”

“I want to see you, baby,” Trevor coos convincingly. “I want to see what I’m missing out on while I’m away.”

With shaking hands, you unbox the vibrator. It’s silicone, hot pink, and it’s got two parts– a smaller part that you assume rests on your clit, and a main part that you’re… supposed to pretend is Trevor’s dick? You look up at him again.

“I thought that color would look so good with your skin tone,” Trevor says, his eyes focused on the vibrator in your hands. “I was right.”

You press the button at the top of the vibrator and it springs to life, on a slow but consistent level of buzzing. You feel the machine move in your hand, traveling up your arm. Again, you press it. And again. You go through all of the levels– all nine– before returning to the first.

“I’ve never used a vibrator before, Trev,” you say.

“It’s just like when you touch yourself,” he replies. “You can’t do it wrong, baby.”

Still high, you ghost a hand over the front of your shorts and straighten at the contact. You’re not even holding the vibrator with that hand, but you jump regardless.

“So pretty for me,” Trevor continues. “You’re gonna put on such a beautiful show, aren’t you?”

You moan at the way he bites his lip, his eyes half-lidded and hazy.

“It’ll feel so good, Y/N. Those vibrations against your clit might even feel better than my tongue.”

“Never,” you whine, denying his claim. Nothing could be better than his tongue– his strong, knowing tongue. All you have is an unsure hand and a buzzing toy.

“Try it,” Trevor says, nodding along with his words, trying to encourage you. “You can do it. Talk me through it, baby. Tell me what you’re thinking about while you fuck yourself with your new toy.”

“Trevor,” you cry, throwing your head back with a pout. The humiliation is burning your skin, turning red and welted. You lay back on the pillows, hiding from your boyfriend.

“Do you need me to get you started?” Trevor asks. “I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.”

You hum, needing him.

“When you say my name like that, it reminds me of when I make you come,” Trevor tells you. “How you just can’t help yourself and you start screaming my name.”

Your jaw drops, Trevor’s boldness never failing to surprise you.

“Take your pants off,” Trevor commands.

You shuck the offending articles of clothing off, throwing them at Trevor. It’s your one move, the one bratty, teasing moment that you’ll allow yourself. You may not know much when it comes to sex, but you know it bothers Trevor when your throw lands and blocks his brief vision. You know it’s part of the power thing he has going on.

Trevor snatches the clothing out of the air and tosses the bundle to the side. “Touch yourself.”

You wield the vibrator with a loose wrist, gauging the weight of it. You press the tip of it to your slit, then pull back. “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. You double check it, making sure the toy is on the lowest setting. It was. “That’s the lowest setting?” You ask aloud.

Trevor chuckles from his spot in the chair. “You’ll get used to it. Put it on your clit, baby.”

You obey, the wider head of the vibrator against your clit but not fully on top of it. Your hips jump, trying to get away from the vibrations. You heave out a breath, your vision feeling heavy and blue at the edges. The vibrations against your clit feel overwhelming, especially in this state. It’s tingly, the same feeling you imagine you would feel if you were frolicking through a field of tall grass– with freshly shaven legs.

Your eyes drift closed as you push the vibrator against your clit again, harder this time. You sigh, melting into the pillows beneath you.

“How does it feel?” Trevor asks softly, not wanting to break you out of the zone you found yourself in.

“Weird,” you reply. “It’s… I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“Is it good?”

“Not as good as you.”

Trevor groans, pushing the heel of his hand over the bulge in his sweatpants. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. Pretend I’m not here.”

“I’m thinking about you watching me,” you say. “That’s all I can think about right now.” You’re borderline complaining, angry that Trevor is so close but refuses to touch you. “And now I’m thinking that you didn’t even kick your friends out, that they could be listening to us. That’s not sexy.”

“Okay,” Trevor says. You hear him stand and cross to the door, opening it and closing it behind him. Muffled, through the wood, you hear him shout: “Get the fuck out! I’m trying to fuck my girl!”

“Trevor!” You admonish, blushing further. A little blossom of pride blooms in your chest at his protective tone. You reach down and spread your folds, rubbing the vibrator up and down your slit.

When Trevor reenters the bedroom, he winks and resumes his position in the chair across from the bed.

“Thinking about your fingers,” you announce, pressing the tip of the vibrator to your hole, but not entering it. “So talented, Z.”

Trevor flushes, taken aback. You can’t see him, but it touches him that you say he’s talented before you say that he’s good looking.

“Z, when…” You gasp. “When you made me ride your fingers on the boat, under the blanket.”

You arch your back, grinding against the vibrator.

“When you were driving with one hand and I was sitting on your lap and you were fingering me with the other…”

You start to push the head of the vibrator into your pussy, just the tip, stretching you out.

“And all the boys were there, but they didn’t know. I never thought I’d be into that, but with you? You drive me crazy, Trev. You make me do all these things that I never thought I would, or that I never thought I wanted to.”

“Look at me,” Trevor says.

You open your eyes, gasping at the sight of him. He’s stripped himself of his shirt and pulled himself out of his pants, stroking his dick lazily at the sight of you. You zero in on his cock, sliding the vibrator further into you. The small prong of the vibrator presses against your clit and you whine.

“Thinking about your cock,” you whimper. “How good it’ll feel when I finally take it. How good it’ll be for you, such a good reward after all your patience.”

Trevor’s mouth drops open and his head rolls back, exposing the long column of his neck to you. You bite your lip as his tattooed arm flexes with each pump of his hand.

“How big you are,” you say, voice stronger than it has any right being. You pull the vibrator out, then push it back in. Warmth spreads over your body, starting at your core and reaching the tips of your ears. The pace you set for yourself is brutally teasing, with barely a brush over your g-spot at how slow you’re going. “It’s so warm, Trevor,” you describe. “I feel like I’m in a warm bath.”

“Imagine how you’d feel with something real inside you,” Trevor tells you. He fists his cock and you watch as precum blurts out of his tip. You clench down on the toy inside you, thinking about how it would feel as Trevor’s come leaks inside of you.

You think about how his come might actually light a fire in you, cause you to glow.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Trevor,” you sigh, pulling the vibrator out and resting its length against your clit. Your hole stays open, stretched, and winks at him each time you pull yourself closer and closer to orgasm. You press the button on the vibrator by accident and it speeds up. Your legs lift off the bed and your toes curl, the satisfaction of the vibrations against your most sensitive spot creating a feeling so pleasurable that you could burst.

Your voice gets caught in your throat and you can’t help but close your eyes, tipping your head back and arching up into the contact. You might even let out a shriek when you start to come, but you’re so far away and lost in the pleasure, the idea of Trevor coming inside of you, that you don’t notice.

Trevor’s hands are on you before you even finish coming, two of his fingers stuffed inside your pussy and his cock rutting helplessly against your hip. The vibrator still presses against your clit, making you oversensitive and jumpy, but you can’t take it away. It’s too good, too much.

“Can’t wait to get my cock in you, baby,” Trevor all but growls. “You look so beautiful under me, don’t you? My good girl, my brave girl, fucking herself in front of me and telling me exactly what she’s thinking. Who knew you were such a slut for me, huh? First thing you think about when getting off is me finger-fucking you on the boat? Like I’m doing now? A shame you made me kick my friends out, if that’s the kind of thing you think about.”

“It’s different,” you squeal, abs clenching. Your pussy has gone almost starkly cold, but you can feel the orgasm building again– or maybe it’s the same one, and Trevor just prolonged it. You could still be coming. You don’t know.

“Mmm, yeah, that was in public,” Trevor muses. “You don’t want anyone to hear you in the safety of your own home.”

“Your home,” you correct, voice choked.

“Baby, you spend just as much time in this bed as I do.” Trevor curls his fingers, rubbing intensely over that one spot inside of you. He draws his fingers out and aims, the pads of his fingers pushing into you incessantly.

The tilted smile as he says “baby” is what sends you over the edge. His voice is so soft, so caring, so Trevor that you can’t help but let your vision go white. Your legs are shaking and the vibrator falls away from your clit, but Trevor catches it and repositions it as you come.

He’s shaking too, and quiet, vibrating with nervous energy when you come to. You can tell he’s got something to say, that he’s trying not to strip his cock and come all over you, and then you notice how wet the bed is beneath you.

“Did I…”

“You squirted,” Trevor moans out, his hand tight around the base of his cock. “Fuck, Y/N, that was so hot.”

“We’ll have to wash your sheets,” you deflect, your cheeks burning. A little embarrassment is fine, welcome even, but you’re falling apart. You came so hard that you released all over Trevor’s nice, new sheets. With a look at his tattooed arm, you can see that you released all over him as well.

“Don’t care,” Trevor says. He brings his hand up, the one covered in your juices, and tastes you. He moans again, licking up the wetness like a man starved. His hand starts to move over his cock again. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” His eyes lock with yours. “I want to see you do it again.”

“I can’t,” you reply nervously.

“We’ll try until you can,” Trevor replies. “Fuck, if I don’t make you squirt on my cock, I’m a lunatic. That was sexy, baby.”

Your eyes drift down to his hand, his hard cock still bobbing away from his stomach. “How sexy?”

“I almost nutted just from grinding against you, that’s how sexy.”

You blush again, this time with a smile. “You know what I’m thinking about now?”

“What?” Trevor asks, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep himself under control.

You bite your lip, unsure. It’s so dirty, is the thing. It would make Trevor give up control, it would make you the one in charge, and while you don’t really want that, the picture in your head is just too pretty.

“Say it,” Trevor encourages.

“I’m thinking about how sexy it would be if you humped my cum stain until you came,” you say, the words rushing out of your mouth like a wave.

Trevor pauses in shock for only a moment and you think that he might laugh, he might call you a freak, but he doesn’t. He scrambles into position, lays between your legs with his head on your chest, and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth as he grinds down on the bedsheets. Your hands immediately fly to his hair and you gasp at Trevor’s each tingling suck.

He moans into your skin, his eyes falling closed as his hips drill into the bed. You can’t look away– this, here, is what he’d look like if he was fucking into you. It’s like you get to see it for the first time without experiencing it– like a test run.

The wide expanse of his back ripples with each thrust, his skin tan and clear and beautiful. You run a hand over his shoulders, the other still playing with his hair. The dimples at the end of Trevor’s spine disappear and reappear on a constant loop.

He shivers when he finally comes, one of his hands playing with your clit just to touch it, the other grasping your thigh.

You stay in that position, both of you breathing heavily, until Trevor makes his way up so that he’s level with your face. He drops a kiss on your nose, then on your mouth.

“That was so sexy,” he breathes out, kissing you again. “Love that you feel comfortable telling me what to do, baby.”

You let out a surprised laugh at that, relief washing over you. It suddenly hits you, just how tired you are and how sweaty from your antics. The vibrator is still going, buzzing its way to the corner of the bed and Trevor saves it before it falls off.

“Quick shower?” He asks. “Then bed?”

You can only hum in reply, and Trevor picks you up to take you to the joined bathroom, a gesture that you’ll never tire of.

note: HIIIIII i got carried away! happy monday! the streak continues! i want to update y'all on the timeline of this fic: so this is after everything else i've written and after a good amount of time has passed in their relationship, so they're SOON TO FUCK! assume that everything that happens in this story is consensual and has been discussed beforehand, except for the fact that reader gets horny when she's high. I think it's really funny that Trevor didn't know that. one thing about me? i loooooove a sexy high encounter. they're just so fun. more notes: trevor x small girl is coming! let me know if you want me to drop teasers along the way! we're about 5,500 words in now (and 87 more days to write, out of 90). also, let me know your takes on small towns because i want this to be sooo eclectic and silly and fun for us all. MORE notes: not sure what i'm going to write this week. i usually like to take a little time between inexperienced!reader blurbs, but who knows. maybe more requests. maybe an original. maybe a daddy kink...

@captainlexaproluvr @elliehaleymarsh enjoyyyy my lovelies

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #tz x inexperienced!reader series #tz11 #trevor zegras smut #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic

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dontbesoweirdkira · 1 month

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Hey, hi! I really liked your work about the harem! It's very interesting, in my opinion. And can I find out the continuation of this whole story, when the reader chooses some nondescript extra as his love?

“Okay. Let’s refocus our efforts, men. Y/N has a partner which mean we need to figure out how to get rid of them first. *Then*…we can finish killing each other in the tournament.”

A/N: I didn’t really want to continue the story because I was kinda lost on what to do with it but I thought this little Drabble would be funny. Thank you soooo muchhhhhhh💞

Pt.1

Warnings: obsessive and aggressive behavior

Requests: always open

Masterlist

When your partner came to visit you in the outworld, all eyes were on them. The way they had confidently strutted over and kissed you with a chill, “Hey baby. I missed you so much”, sent them into orbit.

I’m sorry you have a what—?

So you mean to tell them that you already had someone and basically all of this infighting was for nothing?!? It was never going to be one of them?

Nahhhh

you’re such a jokester. You did this to rile things up and make them jealous. So playful, you are.

Johnny of course was the first to go up to y'all and start his bullsh*t

“Y/N, this is absolutely hilarious. Was the attention I gave you not enough? You don’t have to try to make me jealous with this…punk. I would’ve gladly given you more if you just asked.”

Umm no Johnny this is actually your lover..

Kano was the next to bite

“Haha doll, that’s a real good one! There’s no way you’d want someone like ‘at. Tell you what, why don’t you come make some jokes over there with me..I’m a real good tickla’.”

Oh.. they are in reeeaaal bad denial

“Hey—let’s give Y/N some space. She’s allowed to have privacy and a personal relationship of her choosing—“

Luckily Fujin is the voice of reason and compassion

“—-even if they are so…unexpectedly unique.”

You had one job 😩

They definitely were still trying to process this whole situation. For the rest of the night all the men were whispering amongst each other and sending weird looks over their way. There was no way that was actually your partner. This was just all some ruse. They’ll be gone by the morning.

Nope. They weren’t and you were as affectionate and clingy as ever. You were just so smitten over them that it couldn’t have been fake. Every question about you, your lover could flawlessly answer and recall stories only someone close to you could.

They even showed pictures of you two together through the years on different occasions and at family gatherings…so either this was the greatest actor/stunt ever or you really was taken.

The guys loathe them so bad..

Not only did they take their beloved darling away from them but how could someone so average claim your heart so easily?

All of them felt like they were far better than them, like come on you have assassins, celebrities, monks, kahns and more at your disposal but you chose…them? What about them could possibly be better than what is right in front of you?

I can imagine the mk harem frequently going up to your partner and sizing them up. Like it’s so funny watching them pop out their chest and flex in order to seem more superior.

Oh and all the things I mentioned previously about the being super creepy and desperate…it’s cranked up to ten now.

They’ll purposely do..questionable things in front of your partner to get them upset and insecure. Especially the younger guys.

They’re all huge show offs during training sessions and can’t help but to be a little too comfortable with you.

Will steal garments (hoodies..ect) from your closet and then return them to your partner to make it seem like you were spending time with him.

We all know that Kano, Erron, Kabal, and Johnny have no filter. They’ll put things into your lover’s head to make them worried. These men love to talk big game and boast about anything they can. Sometimes they’re just flat out crass about their feelings towards you.

Shang tsung flants his wealth and constantly is gifting you money, clothes and other luxury goods…your lover could never afford it.

“I like to make sure that Y/N is well taken care of. All of her old stuff was hindering her beauty. I hope you don’t mind the initiative that I’ve taken…I figured it’d help you out since you possibly couldn’t have access to the aristocracy that I do.”

*has tried tricking your partner into drinking pure acid*

Raiden and Fujin are great at pretending they like your partner and wanna welcome them but are soooo shady.

“I appreciate you inviting me into your temple. It’s so cool that you both can control the weather. Wish I could do that.”

“Yes, it is quite a shame. It’s one of the many things that Y/N loves. We frequently make thunderous skies and wind storms for her whenever she’s feeling a bit down.”

“ Dont worry, though. I’m sure Y/N enjoys the fact that you can make her laugh and whatever other talents you possess.”

PLEASE—

Backhanded insults, threats, hazing and rough housing are frequent.

By the way, you cannot leave your partner alone…like at alll. Like take that poor thing into the bathroom with you because they are constantly watching and waiting for any moment to pounce on them.

This is the first time in months these men are bonding over something since you came along…the mutual disdain for your partner is so powerful.

They really need to do something about this relationship and a plan will be devised soon.

Scorpion, Sub-Zero, Kotal Khan, Erron and Shang Tsung, Kabal and Baraka all want to just flat out want them brutally killed in some kind of public execution so you’ll learn that having a lover outside of any of them is completely unacceptable.

Fujin, Night Wolf, Raiden, Jax and Liu Kang all want to try to…passionately pursue and manipulate..you out of the relationship. They don’t really want your partner to be harmed in any way.

Kung Lao and Johnny Cage think it would be hilarious to haniously humiliate them AND jump them so they’ll be left not only traumatized but filled with hatred for you.

The only reason why they haven’t gone through with any of these plans is because they can’t come to an agreement on which method is better.

I can’t imagine your partner being like “hey…I think they want me dead..”

“Oh that’s non sense, honey. They are a bit strange but I promise you that they are the sweetest to me.”

“They’re literally are into you and hate me for being with your partner. I heard them talking about getting rid of me.”

“Sure a few of them may have a crush on me but I promise you they like you! They’re just guys being guys.”

Yeah they are NOT safe in the slightest. You are owned by the harem, not by this nobody. I really hope they’ll learn how to fight very soon or dump you because your s/o is going to go missing soon. And they’ll make it look like an accident.

#headcanon #imagines #oneshot #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 11 #fujin mortal kombat #raiden mk11 #lui kang x reader #kung lao x reader #johnny cage x reader #kano x reader #erron black x reader #shang tsung x reader #yandere prompt

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leovaldezluvr · 5 months

Text

"my honeybee, come and get this pollen!"

synopsis : hc's of leo valdez and his gf !!

pairing : leo valdez x daughter of apollo!reader

warnings : swearing / cursing, intentional lower case writing, kissing, nothing crazy tho!

requested ? yes! by the amazing @sunnitheapollokid 😚

masterlist : coming soon!

nai yapps : HI BABIES 🤭 first time writing hcs, hope ya like!! it turned out longer than expected so yeah haha, not proofread so please don't mind the grammatical errors 😭

on the radio . . . "espresso" by sabrina carpenter

in my opinion, leo is kinda insecure (just like percy) so it took him a while to realize that you liked him back !!

in the meanwhile, he would fangirl about you to his friends

oh and trust me, they were SICK AND TIRED of that boy

"guys, did you see the way she looked at me at dinner??"

(which he told them like for the 1293858th time that week)

#delusionalking

and don't act like you didn't do the same thing as well, because we all know damn well you did

yapping about leo to annabeth, silena and piper at the cabin 10 sleepovers is a weekly (almost daily) occurrence

like i've mentioned in the beginning, leo's probably really insecure, so he uses his flirty and cheeky personality to cover it up!

which has you giggling and kicking your feet

because that boy flirts with you more than anyone else

oh and when he found out that you work at the infirmary with will solace?

it was his most visited place other than bunker 9

leo is naturally a really clumy person (me too lmao) so he injures himself on accident quite often when working on something in bunker 9, but one way or another he'll find an excuse to come visit you there (even if he's not hurt) and say shit like

"you come here often?" or "can you kiss it better?"

with a shit-eating grin as you heal one of his injuries

since you're a child of the music god, you have AMAZING taste in music

so every once in a while you'd come over at bunker 9 and play some of your music while leo works on his projects

you'd be on his bed, painting away or even working on poems

speaking of poems!

you once wrote a poem about leo and after building up courage (with the help of your girlfriends) you read it out to leo!!

and let me tell you, that boy turned as red as a tomato

and he couldn't stop thinking about that poem FOR DAYS.

like girl you had that boy wrapped around your finger 😭 (hence the song i choose for this blog)

after that, he decided it's time to ask you to be his gf!! (screaming)

him and his friends (percy, jason and frank) have been planning and scheming on the best way leo can ask you out

since percy has a big mouth, he told the news to his girlfriend, annabeth.

your and leo's friends were pretty much one big friend group, so you guys hung out quite often

soon enough, piper and silena found out about leo's plan too

SOO HERE'S HOW I IMAGINE HOW'D LEO WOULD ASK YOU TO BE HIS GF!!

basically, the group decided to hang out at the beach is Montauk

"LAST ONE IN THE SEA IS A ROTTEN EGG!"

percy yelled, all the boys racing to the sea, except for leo.

"boys." annabeth muttered, rolling her eyes, causing piper, silena and you to giggle.

you had your beach towel spread out onto the sand, your tote bag to your left and a book in your hands.

leo sat at your right hand side, applying sunscreen onto his arms and upper body as he watched the boys splash and attempt to drown each other.

"could you please apply sunscreen on my back, y/n?"

you look up from your book you're reading and place your bookmark between the pages. a smile grew on your face as you nod, signaling leo to turn so his back faces you. he obliged and did as you said, he pulled his knees closer to his chest leaned his head onto his arms. (kinda like this I'm bad at explaining haha 😭)

hours pass by, the group has all been at the sea having a splash fight, then also played volleyball. now they wanted to have some snacks and drinks

and of course the group decided to pick you and leo to go get the snacks

you, oblivious to their intentions, started putting your flip flops on. as you weren't looking, leo shot a look at the smirking teenagers he calls his friends. piper and frank were showing thumbs up for support. while jason and percy gave him a knowing look. leo saw annabeth mouthing "now or never" to him.

"lee, you ready to go?"

he put his attention back on to you and nodded, heading to the corner shop with you next to him. he glanced back to his friends one last time, seeing them look at the pair walking off and cheering for leo, but silently of course, so you wouldn't suspect anything.

after you two have bought the snacks and drinks the friendgroup wanted, you head back to the beach.

leo noticed the group playing volleyball again, and used to opportunity to confess now. He stopped walking, standing at this area.

"hey, y/n. could we talk for a sec?"

you didn't think much of it and nodded, walking closer to where leo was standing.

then, his nervousness got the best of him and that boy just started rambling.

"so i just wanted to say that Iive liked you for REALLY long time. like a i like you A LOT and I really want to be together with you but i'm not sure if you feel the same and i really don't want to ruin this friendship. but i've never felt this way about anyone and–"

then he got interrupted with kiss!! (by you of course)

he froze, definitely not expecting that. but quickly kissed you back. his hands on your waist, pulling you closer as your hands wrapped behind his neck.

you soon pulled away, both of you catching your breaths.

"i like you too, leo."

a bright smile appeared on leo's face, him leaning his forehead onto yours.

"can i be your boyfriend, y/n?"

you act like you're thinking about, rubbing your chin jokingly, but ultimately day yes.

he kisses you again, but pulled away quickly as you two heard screaming and cheering from the back.

the pair turn around to see their friendgroup being the cause of this loud noise.

piper, annabeth and silena were the ones screaming, holding each other's hands as they jump up and down like little girls. While the boys were cheering and clapping, Percy even started jumping up and down with the girls. (LMFOAOA DON'T TELL ME HE WOULDN'T DO THAT)

anyhow! that's how i imagine it'd happen

leo and you are both you clingy mfs, even before dating. but now you two are glued to the hip.

he definitely calls you cute nicknames in spanish (#latinoking)

"mi amor" , "cariño" , "mi vida" , "hermosa" , "mi corazón" , "mi sol", "mami/mamas"

he loves, and i mean LOVES when you help him with his projects (cough this fic cough)

whenever a piece of your jewelry (earrings, necklaces, ect..) breaks, you already know your boyfriend is there to fix it for you.

despite being the daughter of the sun god, your hands were always FREEZING. that's why you had your fire boy to warm you up

that boy is basically your human heater. while you two would cuddle in the summer, you would get so hot while being in his embrace, but you just suffered, because his grip is strong as steel.

your guys' dynamic is sunshine x sunshine protecter!! (the protecter being you because leo doesn't do shit to stand up for himself)

#1 princess treatment giver!!

"baby, i can get out of the car myself–"

"shh, don't worry about it mami."

wow this is getting way too long woopsie

in conclusion, leo valdez is the best boyfriend ever and you two are the power couple of chb!!!

THE END!!

— 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐍𝐀𝐈.

taglist (pls tell me if I should remove / add you!!) : @thesnshinee @graceslcver @gentlehue @ssparksflyy @coolestgirlintheworld112 @ghostlyloversworld @percyslcver @lovely-calypso @woodlandwrites @brainsofseaweed @mershellscape @hopelesslyromanticshark @canonfeminine

#leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #percy pjo #percy jackson #percabeth #frank zhang #piper mclean #annabeth chase #silena beauregard #jason grace #leo valdez x daughter of apollo

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quitealotofsodapop · 3 months

Note

Saw the notes... got inspired by the silly! MK would absolutely be confused over the baby stone monkeys but also really think the little clones are cute. He uses the explanation Wukong had given him about the babies being clones of an old friend he'd kept preserved until they eventually morphed into a pair of actual baby monkeys to the Noodle Gang. Tang is of course, extremely excited to meet Savage and Rumble because these are basically Sun Wukong's kids and the mystery of who the baby clones original self was gets added to the cork boars alongside Wukong's baby daddy!

Macaque, jealous and feeling betrayed: WHO DID YOU HAVE A CHILD WITH!?

Wukong: You, idiot.

Ha yes! Was rambling in the notes here about the Penumbra au (with some SlowBoiled sprinkled in).

MK rambles about the babies to the rest of the gang (and theorizing thats why Monkey King needed a successor), and the while gang are "aww"-ing at the thought.

The adults have concerns.

Pigsy: "Wait, how old are they? What is he feeding them?" MK, thinking: "Uhhh super tiny-old? Monkey King said the shadows he preserved turned into newborn babies some weeks ago. He keeps them in his shirt so I don't know how he feeds them." Pigsy, concern growing: "He's probably on that island without proper food for himself..." Sandy, also concerned: "And there's a lot of good vitamins one can't get from just fruit and transformed hair. He'll need some ginger tea." Pigsy, already in the kitchen: "And some soup! Tangy! We need some fish heads!" Tang, nerding out: "Are we forgetting the huge fact that these are newborn Spiritual Monkeys!? We're talking like baby unicorns here! This is a major discovery!" Pigsy, handing him a list: "Just get me these ingredients and I'll forgive your tab!" Tang, diligently grabs list and shopping bags: "Okie dokie!" MK: "Eh? Why tea and soup?" Mei: "Odds are the Monkey King is the babies' only source of food." MK: "They're eating him?!" Mei: "Bruh. Boobs." -_- MK, embarrassed: "AH. My bad." >_<

So yeah Sun Wukong quickly gets the adults knocking on his door with big pots of soup and tea for him to take. He's touched by the gesture, but a little startled by how fast the gang were to appear on his doorstep.

So of course MK has to deal with wanting to become stronger faster (can't do certain training when the twins are in the way), and runs into Macaque.

MK takes one look at the black fur, red face marking, and shadowy powers, and thinks "omg! he might be the shadow babies' other dad/clone-original!!" - but holds the knowledge to himself for the moment.

Eventually MK gets a text from Mei during his additonal training, and she sends him an adorable photo of the twins. Macaque overhears.

Macaque, very serious: "Who are they?" MK: "Oh! It's just my friend Mei!" Macaque: "No. I mean the baby monkeys." MK: "Oh haha. Well... the big reason Monkey King can't train me as hard as he can is cus he's got... them." Macaque, grabs phone and glares at the photo: "WITH WHOM?!" MK: "Whoa! You're uh... kinda upset." Macaque: "Of course I'm upset! My former ma- friend had cubs without me!" MK, thinking Mac cannot be that dense: "Wut." Macaque: "What's their names?!" MK: "Zàoyīn and Bàoliè." Macaque: "He named them Rumble and Savage?!"

This of course leads to a confrontation where Macaque has drained MK's powers and is now knocking on Wukong's door demanding to know who fathered his twins.

Wukong: (*opens door with the twins tucked into a skin-to-skin top. Looks a bit sleep-deprived.*) Macaque: (*angry frown*) MK: (*waves nervously cus Macaque dragged him over*) Wukong: "Wondered when you'd get here." Macaque: "Let me see them." Wukong: "Say please. You're not setting a good example." Macaque, forces self to calm down: "Ok. Please let me see them." Wukong: "Thats better." (*Wukong loosens his shirt, letting the twins' heads to poke out. The twins stretch awake as Wukong kisses their heads. A pair of six-ears flutter like that of a kitten as one yawns loudly.*) Macaque: (*quiet. eyes glistening*) Wukong: "Plums, are you crying?" Macaque, trying to hide tears: "Who- who did you have them with!?" Wukong & MK: "Wut." "Seriously!?" Macaque: "They're too beautiful to be mine!" Wukong, sighing: "You literally left behind two shadow clones before you left the island. Shadows that I... had trouble letting go of. And I might have broken some rules of magic to keep them around." Macaque: "You... donated your dao to preserve them??" Wukong: "Yeah. I didn't want to like... lose all of you just yet. But about a few weeks ago they sort of collapsed into themselves and popped out like this." Macaque, doing math and suddenly blushes: "OH." MK: "What oh?" Macaque: "Shadow clones aren't like hair clones. They aren't extensions of the original's body, but rather their soul. When Wukong donated his dao to my shadows - we accidentally, uh... inmaculada." MK: "Omg I was right! You are their dad!" Macaque: "Ok yeah. Uh, here's your power back by the way." MK: "Wut." Macaque: "I had this whole revenge plan in the works but uh, knowing that these little guys are here, I just can't." Wukong: "Aww. Is that the only reason?" (*flutters eyelashes*) Macaque, still blushed: "And I uh... kinda am really touched that you couldn't let go of my shadows after all this time." Wukong, smugly smiling: "Knew it." Rumble & Savage: (*fully awake, now grabbing Macaque's face and chirping excitedly!*)

Macaque quickly turns from "edgy shadow version of Monkey King" to "super-adoring dad" once he meets the twins properly.

Rumble and Savage love having their Papa back.

#slow boiled stone egg au #lmk penumbra au #lmk rumble & savage #lmk eclipse twins #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #shadowpeach #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #breastfeeding tw #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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thera-daydreams · 1 month

Text

SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

series masterlist & synopsis • thera's masterlist

chapter four.

▪︎ haunted ▪︎

You were no powerless otkazat’sya, Aleksander finds out the hard way. He’s pushed you too far, and he’s left to deal with the aftermath of the new knowledge he half-regrets he gained. On the other hand, you see something bad about this new world that wished you had never seen.

warnings: again, the big bad darkling himself is a warning, he gets kinda pushy and intimidating, aleksander hates liars but is a big one, faint spoilers about the darkling's book story, our baby wanda, her powers, mental instability, bad coping mechanisms, and a whole lot of heartbreak, wanda!reader cuts her palm to prove something, a whole lotta tension between you and the general, no beta we die like wanda

word count: 6.0k

(author's note: bro even my heart broke writing this long-ass chapter, haha. shadow daddy and magic mommy super angsty slowburn!? i just wanna finish this short series and be free from the confines of my crazy fanfic ideas, guys. let me go!)

The smell of paper.

Aleksander walked through the rows of bookshelves, his eyes skimming the spines of the books, searching for the one he wanted. He continued down the row, almost reaching the end, when he stops and his eyes settle on the sight of you, reading on a small couch tucked into a dark corner of the room.

What impeccable timing he had, he thinks as his thoughts shift from the book he was looking for to the woman who’s been plaguing his thoughts as of late. Just in time to get answers to his questions.

After being in Ryevost for a week, his presence was required in Kribirsk, overseeing the status of the troops there. But no night passed when he wasn’t thinking about you, in particular. Aleksander’s eyes zoom in on the book you were reading.

History of Ravka. How unexpected.

A strange feeling stirred within him the longer he stared at you. He’s seen you before, he just doesn’t know where. He glances around the room, checking if anyone else is around to see the two of you. When he’s certain that no one is there to witness, he slowly moves closer to you, coming to stand a few feet away from the couch.

You notice eyes studying from near the shelves. But ever since you became employed in the Little Palace, you had grown accustomed to a certain Shadow Summoner’s presence. Slowly, you turn your head to the right side of the sofas to see him.

“Moi soverenyi.” You bow your head as you stand.

“Hello, Miss Maximoff," he greets, his voice low and almost teasing. Funnily enough, he finds his gardener not in the garden, but the library this time.

"I find myself surprised. I thought you prefer being in the garden." His tone was light and nearly sarcastic. Was he in a good mood today?

“It’s a Friday, sir. My day off." You smile a little.

"So it is,” Kirigan mutters, his gaze going back to studying your features, his eyes roaming over your face once again. Now, to the important topic. "Miss Maximoff… you and the children… Henrik, Dmitri, and Katyusha…”

You perk up at their names. “Yes, sir?”

“Where are you from again?”

You nearly, very nearly answered Sokovia. Thankfully, you did not. But something in you grew agitated as the Darkling stepped closer, awaiting your response.

“We came from a small town in Tsibeya. Korsov. Barely even in the maps,” you reply smoothly, fingers grazing the rough pages of the history tome you were devouring earlier.

“Ah… Korsov. Indeed, quite a small town in Tsibeya, hm?” General Kirigan hums, his eyes flitting to your hand. “... But Tsibeya is so dangerously close to the Fjerdan border, don’t you agree?”

At his words, you start to have a bad feeling. He appeared to be implying something. “... Yes, it is, moi soverenyi,” you reply quietly.

“And you did not encounter one single drüskelle in the many days you trekked from here to the Little Palace?” The Black General finally drops what he’s been intending to ask for a month now, his endlessly dark gaze piercing through your soul.

Your heart nearly dropped into your stomach. If you thought he was onto you before, this was the confirmation.

Before you could respond, he continued, slowly circling you. “Drüskelle are very unjust in their ways of imprisoning and killing Grisha, did you know that?” He adds,a faint smirk on his face.

The smug bastard knew he caught you in his trap.

“Fortunately enough, sir, we encountered no drüskelle on our journey.” Your voice was cool and calculated as you watched him stop circling you. Kirigan raises a brow.

“Aside from drüskelle, Tsibeya is also notorious for its bandits, thieves, traffickers in its vast forest,” he points out, sounding amused. “Are you sure? When almost always, my soldiers would encounter one or more of these during their assignments there?”

Fuck.

You retained your composure as you answered, “None, General. I’m forever grateful to the Saints above that we were blessed with smooth travels that time.”

“Hmmm… the Saints, hm?” The Darkling muses, smirk ever present as he flips a page on the book you were reading. The next page revealed an illustration of the Unsea. There was a glimmer in his eye as he looked at it. “That’s quite strange, Miss Maximoff.”

“Sir…?”

“Because I seem to vividly recall young Dmitri gushing over how you took down a drüskelle in your journey. Henri also spoke of how you… bribed two Grisha slavers to be on their way.” He turns back to you expectantly. "But you'd made them close their eyes."

A spike of cold runs down your skin. You weren’t sure if the children sold you out or not—it was unlikely since the general had Heartrenders for torture and interrogation and also, they were innocent kids! Either way, the man in front of you knew about what happened in your journey to the Little Palace.

No use hiding now.

Aleksander sees your demeanor shift into something… icier. Guarded. Quite different from the quiet gardener who peacefully tended to her plants or the affectionate adopted mother who gives out sweets to her children.

You were just getting more and more interesting, weren’t you? He smirks wider.

“Are you going to keep your general waiting?"

And to think this had been the man you shared your grief to just over a month ago.

“What matters is that the children are here in your palace. Safe and sound and with their people, sir,” you counter, standing your ground fearlessly.

The Black General had absolutely no idea who he was messing with right now.

“I do not tolerate lies, Miss Maximoff,” he spoke slowly—ominously, his features hardening. You watch as the flames in the lamps nearby flicker and vanish completely as shadows engulf the space around you.

Much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as react at the sight.

“I doubt drüskelle or anybody else with ill intentions would just let 3 children and an otkazat'sya woman escape without any trouble,” Kirigan challenges, stepping closer until he was merely an arm’s length away from you. “So, how did a little otkazat’sya gardener with no combat experience like you do it, hm?”

“...”

He scoffs. “Are you truly going to make me drag it out of you?”

Menacingly, you tilt your head at him as you dauntlessly meet his gaze above you.

The Black General suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, something that rarely occurred.

Who were you, really?

You open your mouth to speak when—

CREAK!

The heavy wooden library doors loudly open, two of his most trusted men running in. The shadows around you quickly vanish and the lamps flicker back on. A little irritated, he turns around.

“... What is it, Ivan?” He keeps his voice reserved, hiding his displeasure at the interruption. He had been so close. So damn close.

“General, the Durasts have completed the new sandskiff prototype at Kribirsk. It is ready to be launched as soon as possible,” Ivan reports, his gaze momentarily shifting to you before returning to Kirigan. “Will you be accompanying us there once more, sir?

You await his response, but you can’t help but let the tiniest hint of a smile appear on your lips. Saved by the bell. His eyes flicker down, brow slightly twitching. He sends you a glare which clearly meant that your conversation was not at all over.

Your seemingly innocent smile grows wider as you bow, “General.”

Who was so smug now?

Holding back a snarl, he swivels on his feet, fists clenched. “Come,” he sharply orders his Heartrender, quickly leaving the library.

You pick up the book you had previously been reading, examining the illustration of the Fold on the page. When you turned to the next page, there was a drawing of a heavily cloaked figure surrounded by shadows.

The Black Heretic.

You had only seen one other likeness of the man—at an almost abandoned wishing fountain not too far from the Little Palace. An engraving depicting the reign of King Anastas, the creation of the Fold, and the prophesied Sun Summoner to solve their problem.

As you reach out, fingers tracing the drawing of the Black Heretic curiously, the memory of your silhouette in the Book of the Damned suddenly coursed through your mind, Agatha’s voice echoed in your ears.

“You’re supposed to be a myth! A capable being of spontaneous creation!”

“This is Chaos Magic, Wanda. And that makes you… the Scarlet Witch.”

“Harbinger of Chaos!”

The sculpture of you in the now-destroyed Darkhold Castle flashed before your eyes.

“The Scarlet Witch is not born; she is forged. She has no coven, no need for incantation.”

“Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme… it’s your destiny to destroy the world.”

Quickly retracting your hand from the Black Heretic’s drawing, a deep frown marred your face. What was that just now? You return the history book to the shelf.

What was crucial was that General Kirigan did not successfully interrogate you. Yet. Never, you pray. Hopefully, he’ll be off for a long time in Kribirsk for a very important Second Army job or whatever Ravkan military business he needed to do.

ᱬᗢᱬ

For once, it seems like the heavens did heed your wishes. Because apparently, they had found the infamous Sun Summoner during their last trip to Kribirsk. Not without casualties, though. There was reportedly a drüskelle attack on their way back home.

From the gardens of the Little Palace, you briefly catch General Kirigan on his black stallion, a woman riding on the saddle in front of him. As the Shadow Summoner helps his newfound Sun Summoner down the horse, ushering her into a secluded entrance in the palace, he stops in his tracks, looking behind him with narrowed eyes.

Aleksander swore he felt someone watching them.

But there was nobody except the oprichniki guarding the way in.

Without another thought, he follows the Sun Summoner inside. Fortunately, the new presence of the Sun Summoner—Alina Starkov—takes up the majority of his time for the coming days, especially after she was successfully presented to the Lantsov monarchs in the Grand Palace.

She will change the world, General Kirigan reportedly announced to everyone present. And the Fold can be destroyed with enough training. Somehow, it made you pity the poor girl thrown into this prophecy.

Speaking of the Grand Palace, the head servant handed you a letter of some sort. A job offer. It seemed like Queen Tatiana was quite enamored with the new, blooming flower beds in the Little Palace. The ones which you’d mainly worked hard on earlier this year.

As you walk through the paths of the garden, reading and debating over the contents of the royal letter, someone nearly hurls past you, making you drop the letter.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” A girl’s voice cries out as she picks up the paper from the ground. The only thing you could see was her blue, Etheralki kefta until she hands it to you.

“... Miss Alina Starkov,” you acknowledge with a bow of my head as you gratefully accept the letter. “It should be me who’s apologizing. I was reading while walking.” You smile warmly at the younger woman.

“Please, you… really don’t need to bow… ma’am…” she trails off anxiously, averting her gaze. She seemed to also be cradling her sore arm. You’ve never met the old woman, but you heard from Henrik and Dmitri that Baghra was notoriously strict and kind of scary whenever Grisha trained under her.

For a moment, you wondered why it was not General Kirigan who was training Alina.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, Miss Starkov, I’ll stop.”

“T-Thank you.” She stared at the bed of moonflowers nearby. “It’s beautiful here. I haven’t been to this part of the palace before. All the flowers… the colors and the scents… it seems so unreal.”

You chuckle, “It’s all very much real, thanks.”

“Oh! You're the palace gardener,” she realizes. “The flowers are gorgeous! You must have magical hands, ma'am.”

Funny. The general said the exact same thing just months ago.

“Just one of the gardeners here, Miss Starkov. I’m assigned to the very tedious section to maintain, but I'm glad you’re pleased. Perhaps one day, you can help me give the plants more sunlight with your powers,” you lightly suggest. At your words, she grows hesitant—her voice full of doubts.

“That is, if I can,” she mumbles, making you give her a sympathetic look. A young girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She reminded you of yourself when you were young—long, long ago.

ᱬᗢᱬ

Aleksander is laser-focused on Alina for a long while, working to gain her trust and persuade her to join his cause—to use her powers for Ravka. All the while, he barely has time to think about the other matters, including his unfinished conversation with you. Additionally, every time he managed to get a glimpse of you, you just seemed to get away and escape.

His frustration slowly builds. He can’t help but wonder what is going through your mind—you truly were hiding something from him. And despite his busy schedule with the Sun Summoner, the general can’t shake the feeling that the conversation you both left unfinished is important. He quietly resolves to talk to you to clear things up as it was nagging the hell out of him.

It was an unwelcome distraction from his goals with Alina. Alina was supposed to be the priority now.

Unfortunately for him, for some reason, you were incredibly good at evading his presence. The situation becomes more and more of a challenge. He almost orders Ivan to retrieve you himself and throw you into his office (or the underground cells) for interrogation. Almost. But he was not that desperate. Yet.

ᱬᗢᱬ

“Is she here?” Aleksander asks two of the oprichniki, who were standing guard over Alina at the entrance of the private palace gardens. They nod.

“Good. Keep an eye on her wherever she goes,” he orders before walking deeper into the gardens. Then, he pauses, a delighted look on his ageless features.

Look what we have here… he thinks as he finds you and Alina interacting.

Aleksander stands back for a moment, hiding within the shadows, watching the two of you talk and smiling together. He overhears part of your discussion, and a part of him is taken aback by the genuine care and reassurance you offer to the young Sun Summoner.

It seems like your kindness did not only extend to the three Grisha children you’d somehow brought into his palace.

“I don’t believe that it's power that's your problem, Miss Starkov,” he hears you welcomingly tell Alina as she walks beside you. “It must be knowledge. Knowledge can be gained, in time.”

“You really think so, Wanda?”

One dark brow of his elevates. Hmm, first name basis already with one another? How quaint.

You smiled at her. “I'm certain you will be a wonderful Sun Summoner. And although I’m no Grisha like you, you are in good hands. With Baghra and… the general, too…” you trailed off.

Aleksander’s eyes widen slightly at your words to Alina. He's a bit surprised by your confidence in his teachings, but he’s even more pleased to hear it.

"Indeed, the knowledge and guidance I can provide will help you, Miss Starkov."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The corners of his lips curved into a slight smile as he approached. Alina gasps in surprise, while you instantly freeze as your head almost snaps to the sound of the voice behind you. Kirigan’s gaze flicks back to Alina for a moment as she clears her throat, before looking back at you. He tilts his head slightly, studying your expression.

Alina looks back and forth between you and General Kirigan, clearing her throat as she senses some… tension between you and the man who’d appeared out of nowhere.

Returning to your senses, you bow as he walks closer to you two. “General Kirigan.” Slowly, you back away from them. “My apologies. You and Miss Starkov must have important matters to discuss. Excuse me—

"No, you stay.”

The Black General raises a gloved hand, immediately stopping you from leaving. When he speaks, there is a firm command to his tone. You halt.

You briefly wondered what chaos would ensue if you simply just used your magic now to vanish into thin air.

"You may go, Alina.” He turns to the Sun Summoner briefly. “I’d like to have a word with you about the… flowers, Miss Maximoff.” The younger girl nods slowly, eyes flitting between both of you briefly, before leaving—the oprichniki following her.

Aleksander waits until Alina leaves, before returning his full attention to you. The look in his eyes is intense and serious. He’s been trying to catch you for quite a while now, and he’s not letting you leave that easily.

“Moi soverenyi.” Your voice was… just civil. Polite. Not as cordial and friendly as when he last met you.

He takes another step towards you, and in the fading light of the garden, he seems imposing in his height and black kefta. "You’ve been avoiding me, little gardener,” he grunts lowly.

“You wished to speak about the blooming flower bed, sir?” you ask in a faux clueless tone, fully aware that it was not what this conversation was about.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Wanda,” he warns. “Such an elusive mouse you are… hiding around in my palace.”

“I was not avoiding you, sir,” you placidly justify yourself, not at all scared to look him straight in the eye. “You appeared to be quite… preoccupied with the Sun Summoner's arrival.” You shrugged.

"—It's hard to fool me, Miss Maximoff.” His voice was silky, mocking you gently.* "But weeks and weeks of evasion from me was quite impressive, I’ll have to admit. Makes me wonder why you’re so adept at it."

“...”

The Shadow Summoner can’t help but feel a sort of satisfaction at your silence, as if he’s won an unspoken game. He watches you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice smooth.

"Tell me," he mutters. "Did you really think I’d just forget about that unfinished conversation we had in the library?"

You blink almost innocently. “Everything’s just been so hectic with Miss Starkov’s arrival, sir,” you say, hands clasping behind your back. “I can’t quite recall. My sincerest apologies.”

The man scoffs at your feigned ignorance.

“You may forget, but I never forget, little mouse.” Those abysmal eyes locked on yours. He reaches out and takes a stray lock of your hair, running it between his fingers slowly. You stiffen—the leather of his horse riding gloves almost touching your face.

“I normally dislike repeating myself, but I’ll spare you some kindness, so let me rephrase.” Kirigan retracts his hand, leaning over you. "You took down a drüskelle and escaped Grisha traffickers. How?"

“Again, does it matter how? The kids are safe in the Little Palace.” Your same response in the library weeks ago. The Black General is not satisfied with your vague answer and his hand moves from to your chin, tilting it up slightly so you’re looking directly at him.

"I want to know." There was a not so subtle hint of force in his calm tone. Despite being so close to you that he could count your eyelashes, his gaze is intense and unyielding, trying to dig beneath your surface.

“... Fine. With my hands,” you almost hiss out. That wasn’t a lie… exactly. You used your hands to manipulate energy, which knocked the holy soldier unconscious before the children could see anything.

The general’s expression remains serious as he listens to your brief response.

"For the drüskelle… hmm... and the Grisha slavers? What did you do?” he murmurs, pushing you for a more detailed reply.

“I bribed them,” you say. If mind manipulation counted as bribing.

The Black General was in disbelief. He seems annoyed by your refusal to share any details, and his fingers close around your chin more, holding it in place so you can’t look away from his intense gaze.

“Liar.” He was nearly eye-to-eye with you as he leaned down. "Do you expect me to believe that you escaped the attacks of drüskelle and Grisha dealers with just your hands and a bribe?" he asks, fully skeptical of your claim and demanding a better answer from you.

“And if that is what happened?”

“Then you must be Grisha... or an assassin, maybe, if you used your… hands to defend yourself and survived those trained, armed fighters,” he sneers. “You keep lying to me, little gardener. It makes me have second thoughts. You say you’re not Grisha. When were you tested?”

You stare at him passively, unanswering.

“Well?” he asks, waiting expectantly.

Before he could react, you grab your soil knife from the satchel you carried around to work in the garden.

And consequently slice your palm open.

“!?”

Kirigan’s eyes widened, completely dumbfounded at what you’d just done. You stare at your bleeding palm, rivulets of crimson dripping down your wrist and forearm, droplets pitter-pattering the pavers.

Then, you raise your palm to face him.

“Not. Grisha.” That’s all you whisper, hauntingly unfazed. It was true. No sunlight. No shadow. No elements or whatever manifestations of the Small Science at all.

“...”

Much to your surprise, he closes the space between you and retrieves a black handkerchief from within the pockets of his kefta, tenderly taking your bloodied hand and applying pressure on the laceration on your flesh.

“I will fetch a Healer—”

“No,” you refuse, making his brows furrow.

“... No?” he echoes.

You withdraw your hand from his leather-clad one, pressing the cloth yourself. Your tone was uncharacteristically frigid to him. “It’s just a cut. I’m sure your Healers have more important soldiers to attend to,” you snapped, stepping farther away from the general.

“...”

Silence engulfs both of you as the afternoon light morphed into the evening.

“... I have a theory,” he says suddenly. His brows are still furrowed slightly, deep in contemplation as he gazes at your injured hand. "You’re not a Grisha. You’ve proven this yourself. But... what if you have powers, nonetheless? Or abilities? Skills?"

He studies you carefully, looking for any reaction to his theory. But you carefully school your face into neutrality.

“Otkazat'sya can't have powers.”

Kirigan quirks a brow, not buying your reaction. He knows you too well, by now. All those visits in the garden, those talks with you...

"You’re not telling me the whole truth again," he mutters, the hint of a smile on his lips. "I can sense when you're lying, little mouse."

It makes you want to punch his pretty face.

He knows he’s caught you in another lie—and he’s enjoying watching you try to deny it despite your failed attempts.

"Admit it. You’re not an ordinary otkazat’sya, are you?”

“But I am," you insist.

“No ordinary otkazat’sya would slice their hand that deep without so much as wincing,” he opposed. “If you were any other person, I’d throw you to my Heartenders for questioning. Maybe you are an assassin, if not Grisha.”

“And why haven’t you, General?”

“Because, my little gardener, you could always tell me the truth,” he says, his tone slightly mocking again. It’s clear that he can sense your internal struggle and is simply waiting for you to crack. “This bothersome cat and mouse game of yours will soon be over.”

“And even if there is something special with me, will you use me the same as you're using Miss Starkov, General?” You look up at him in challenge. This time, it was you who strode closer to him.

The smirk on his face is replaced by a glower.

He grunts, insulted. "What makes you think I’m using Miss Starkov?"

“She is young. Barely past nineteen. Innocent. Easily manipulated. And you are a much more powerful older man. The complete opposite, moi soverenyi.”

The title escapes your lips with suspicion.

Then, you snort. “Unless... those looks and interactions you give her are true love, feelings that have blossomed from you two being so alike. Two sides of the same coin. Light and dark. Sun and shadow.” You tilt your head at him, pressing the handkerchief tighter against your palm. “I’m not blind, General Kirigan.”

Said man lets out a small scoff, unamused and slightly insulted your insinuation that he’s taking advantage of a young and inexperienced Grisha girl.

But were your words false? Or was he hurt because it was true?

"What you call manipulation, I call training. Helping to shape and control a powerful Grisha. To make her a Saint, a savior of Ravka. And Alina...” he mutters, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder—a warning. “Alina is special. She is all that matters now. She is the future. She is the one.”

“Hmm…”

The General quirks a brow at your noncommittal response. "No arguments? No retorts?"

“You will hurt her if you do not stop,” you advise him.

He lets out a low, mocking scoff. "Since when do you care about her heart?"

“General, she is good. Pure. Bright and determined, but so young, unsure of her way in the world—”

“I do not wish to speak of Alina right now.” He returns to the previous topic, the shadows growing ever more prominent as the sun sets. “The matter at hand is you. But you haven’t been cooperating with me and don’t seem to plan on doing so.”

He removes his hand from your shoulder, dusting off imaginary dirt from his kefta.

"Hence, I shall ask the children myself. Surely, even if their eyes were covered, one of them took a peek—”

Seething from anger, you almost growl. “You will do no such thing.”

What if you just used your magic again to put this bastard in his place? That would teach him. Still, you were not that reckless. No.

Kirigan doesn’t like you speaking to him in such a hostile manner, but at the same time… he loves it. He can’t help but feel a slight thrill as he looks at the protective fire in your eyes.

He’s got you where he wants now.

"Watch your tongue, Miss Maximoff. You’re speaking to your general.”

“I'm not one of your soldiers,” you sharply rebut.

The Shadow Summoner pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing at your words. You’re right—you’re not one of his soldiers. You don’t wear a kefta, you’re not trained and raised in the Second Army, like so many of the Grisha in the Little Palace. He should be annoyed or irritated by your defiant tone, but he can’t help but feel intrigued, his interest in you ever growing.

"No, you’re certainly not. But you’re employed in the Little Palace. My palace," he replies, his tone holding a hint of wry amusement. "I will summon the children to my office. With a bit of prying and prodding plus a trusted Heartrender by my side, I'm sure one of them will squeal—"

“Don't you dare.”

And for the briefest moment, the Darkling swore he saw your irises flash red as you seize his hand with your bloodied one. The handkerchief falls to the ground. Aleksander feels your grasp on his hand, your fingers curling firmly around his wrist as you speak—so tight you might break bones. He can practically feel the heat radiating from you, your rage almost palpable. He’s never seen you so… volatile. So furious.

It’s a side of you he’s never seen before.

He wants to see more of it.

Yet, the red was gone as soon as it appeared, making him doubt his own eyes. You let go of his wrist and distance yourself immediately, taking a deep breath, closing your eyes to calm yourself. You turn around, pacing on the garden path.

The general studies you silently, watching you closely as you try to rein in your anger. What did he just see?

“I... overstepped. Forgive me, moi soverenyi,” you whisper. Your eyes were normal again, as if nothing ever happened.

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, before finally speaking.

"Indeed you did." His tone returned to its usual calm and cool state. The man doesn’t seem particularly upset about your outburst, in fact, he almost looks… impressed?

"Whatever punishment you wish to—" Kirigan doesn't care about that right now, interrupting you.

"What was that, Wanda?”

“... What was what?” You were genuinely confused.

“Your eyes. Just now.” He steps closer, the darkness growing around both of you. “For a second, I swear—”

He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination.

"—They were red, Wanda. I think they were." He frowns. "No. They were. My eyes do not lie."

Upon his words, you realized you’d slipped. He’d seen a glimpse of it. Your powers. All because you couldn’t keep your emotions in check.

It was as of someone submerged you in ice, a pit hollowing your stomach.

“... No... This... This was a mistake,” you suddenly whisper, eyes shut tight. The shadows around you vanish as Kirigan’s brows creased in confusion at your words. “Oh god, I should have just left them here... I should’ve left long ago…”

“Wanda—”

“I never should have come here.” Your voice breaks, a tear sliding down from your eyes as you endlessly whisper to yourself. “I never should have… oh god… it’s all my fault… this is all my fault.”

You’ve put the children at more danger because you remained here in the Little Palace. Why did you have to meddle so much into things? You were a danger to anyone and everyone around you. You should have stayed alone in your little cabin in Tsibeya, waiting for Death to finally grow impatient with you.

Gritting your teeth, you pick up the bloodied handkerchief on the ground and hand it to Kirigan, who was stunned by your behavior.

“But your hand—”

“I don’t need it anymore.” Your voice was hoarse with emotion.

“What—”

Indeed, when he looked at your bloodied hand… there was no cut at all. No blood on your palm or any that he’s seen dripping to your wrist and arm. Even the droplets on the ground were gone. His eyes widen as he looks at the handkerchief. Fresh and clean.

His head snaps towards you.

Teary-eyed, lips wobbling, hands trembling as you gazed at him, face illuminated by the lamps by the garden path.

“I only wanted to make sure they were safe,” you choke out, shaking your head. “Visit them every few weeks or so while… while…”

Aleksander realizes he may have screwed up as he watches your wrecked state before him.

“... While I just nurture something instead of ruining it all the time.” You tearily glance at the majestic flower beds you’d created. The fruit of your hard work. Real. No witchcraft at all.

Was it worth it, though?

You clench your trembling hands, glaring at the Shadow Summoner. “You truly want to know what happened with the drüskelle and the slavers? Fine!”

You almost sounded insane as you scoffed. The general was silent. Frozen.

“I do have certain powers, General Kirigan. Powers beyond your wildest imagination. Powers that not only topple empires, but worlds. Powers I never wanted and powers I never wished to use again,” you huff out, no longer caring about hiding secrets. “Is that what you wanted to hear?!”

He swallows, seeing the crazed look in your eyes.

“You want the truth? I’m a damn witch. I use magic. The so-called thing you and your Grisha label as merzost? An abomination? I could eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still have seconds. There you go!” you almost scream at him. “And if I were any madder than I was now, I would have killed you right when you threatened to interrogate the children.”

More tears stream down your face as you give him a hopeless smile, eyes glowing red. This time, it wasn’t a mere flash. Your eyes were glowing.

“But do you know why I didn't? I can’t. Because that would add one more person’s blood to the countless souls I’ve killed over so many millennia… the thousands I've tortured with my pain..." you laugh humorlessly, running your fingers through your hair as your tears wet your face.

Witch. Magic. Countless killed. Millennia.

Your jaw clenches at your own words as you scoff tiredly. The red vanished from your eyes. "Perhaps I truly am meant to be alone."

Aleksander doesn’t know how to react to your revelation. He only knows that he hates what you just said. However, as he removes his leather gloves—reaching out for you as he slowly steps forward.

You frown. “What... What are you doing—”

His bare hand cups your cheek. His thumbs—calloused, yet warm—graze your cheeks to wipe your tears. Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

It felt nice.

However, when your eyes close, you see it. Hear it.

All of it.

A snowy land. A frozen lake.

"I'm a human amplifier."

"I'm sorry! I need your bones!"

"If she wears my bones then you won't be able to push her or her sister around anymore!"

"You must fight. Fight!"

Water. So much water. Drowning.

The Cut. Blood. Fire.

“Aleksander!”

A woman restrained and stabbed. A man falling to his knees before vengefully killing royal soldiers with shadows. Journals. Morozova’s journals. Merzost. The creation of the Fold.

"What did you do?"

“I made something.”

The volcra. The screams.

“Aleksander is the Black Heretic.”

The night of the Winter Fete. Crows. Alina Starkov. Malyen Oretsev. Two children running in a field. The Stag. The Darkling’s true plans.

“Fine. Make me your villain.”

The expansion of the Fold.

“You cannot claim what was not given to you.”

Nichevo'ya. Scars. The fall of Ravka from the inside out.

So much death. So much screaming.

There came another Lantsov prince. A ship. The Sea Whip. The Firebird. The death of Mal.

The obliteration of the Fold. The sun vanishing. Sand… so much sand…

All of it, in just a split second.

“Without me, know that they will come for you.”

“Let them come.”

“Alina… you make sure… there is nothing left of me… please…”

A thornwood tree.

Screaming. More and more screaming.

The making at the heart of the world.

"My name is Aleksander Morozova, but I have had a hundred names and I have committed a thousand crimes. I am not sorry. I do not repent! All I did, I did for Ravka!"

Make it stop.

Make it stop!

“No!” you screamed, unconsciously pushing the Black General away—sobbing harder and falling to your knees, clutching your throbbing head and covering your ringing ears, overwhelmed by the barrage of voices and images flashing through your mind. "It hurts... it hurts!"

Then, as you open your eyes, your heart sinks.

Although it was evening—no one else around, the palace garden around you fell dead—flowers wilted, trees black and leafless, not a single form of life present. The lights of the lamps had been snuffed out.

Black and corrupted like your fake apple orchard when you read the Darkhold.

And you hear someone wheezing from beside you.

Your eyes widened—the general's shadows had mostly protected him, but red wisps of energy still coiled around his neck as he struggled to breathe, on his knees.

“No! Stop! Stop, I’m sorry!” you cry out, standing and making the wisps vanish.

You cover your mouth, feeling revolted at what you’d just done. It was Westview all over again. General Kirigan—no, Aleksander Morozova stares up at you—coughing—both of you reeling from shock.

He was speechless, as well.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” you hiccuped. The ruthless, terrorizing Darkling himself seemed horrified at you. That said a lot. “I’ll… I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

Hands glowing with a mix of red and black mist, you revert the garden to how it used to be… before you accidentally killed it. Like nothing ever happened, just like how the cut on your palm mysteriously vanished.

The Black Heretic couldn't believe his own eyes. His little gardener was... something else entirely.

Not Grisha. Not a Shadow Summoner. Not a Sun Summoner. You were something far beyond that.

“Wanda—” Aleksander finally says, pulling himself up, approaching you cautiously.

“Don’t.” You shake your head, voice barely a whisper. He stops that instant. “Don’t… Don’t come any closer. Please. I might hurt you again. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone... I’m not a monster.”

Your words broke Aleksander’s heart.

He’s heard them before from his own lips.

You swallow, staggering from the visions you saw. A premonition. Just like when you read Ultron’s consciousness.

“I looked into your head and saw annihilation,” you remembered yourself saying to the love of your life, when he was no more than an hour old.

“Look again,” Vision replies.

Your chest heaves with the effort you need to breathe. You had to get out of here now. But you had only one wish.

“... General Kirigan, please... please make sure they’re safe,” you beg the Darkling, lips wobbling. He immediately understands. Katyusha, Henrik, and Dmitri.

“You have kept them safe, Wanda. All this time,” Aleksander whispers, tone almost pleading. "I understand now. How you protected them. Why you protected them yourself. Please—"

You shake your head in disagreement, sadly smiling.

"There is no place for me here, General. Not anywhere." A tear trails down your cheekbone, your voice shaky. "Not with anyone."

"There is no safe place. There is no haven." Baghra's words momentarily echo through Aleksander's head from when he was thirteen. His heart thumps faster and faster. "Not for us."

"Wanda, wait—"

You exhale. "Goodbye, General Kirigan."

In a blink of an eye, you were gone.

The only thing left of you—on the ground—were your satchel of worn-out gardening tools and a white envelope. Frowning, he picks it up. A job offer from the Grand Palace to be one of the gardeners there. He frowns, crumpling it in his hand.

Aleksander stares at the garden, in disbelief of what just happened and how you did it. Crickets sounded out from the bushes. He touches his throat, remembering the crushing feeling of those wispy, crimson streaks in the air constricting his airway. Almost like a Heartrender, but oh so different.

Wispy, crimson streaks… magic...

Aleksander then realizes why you’ve been so familiar to him all this time.

You were the woman who had been haunting his dreams not so long ago.

Yet, you did not seem to know it at all.

And now, he had driven you away because of his greed. He feels the bile creep up his throat.

That night, as he returns to his room in a daze, his strange dreams of the faceless woman with powers return.

Only this time, you weren't faceless anymore.

to be continued.

So he finds out but kinda regrets it! I wanna make this man grovel soon, hehehehe. I honestly also love how I was able to mix some of the show's, book's, and Wanda's iconic lines from her MCU movies here in this chapter. 💖

Anyways, reblogs are super super appreciated as well as comments and hearts! I love getting feedback from any of my readers! 🥺

taglist: @idohknow @robertthehoover @the-desilittle-bird

#thera.writes #the darkling #darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #shadow and bone #multiverse of madness #wandavision #grishaverse.works

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rubyblue2005 · 1 year

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Au where when Saiki was younger, he sometimes ran into Aren's mom injured and helped her out, and he became something like an unofficial medic to her and her little group. Sometimes when Saiki was patching her up, she would vaguely talk about her kid around his age and stuff. Well, she wouldn't mention Aren by name or talk about him out loud but Saiki just reads her thoughts and so he vaguely knows about her little Hoodlum but then she and her gang moved and Saiki being a little too good at Rock Paper Scissors happened and so they got separated and drifted apart.

Only for some odd years later (Like, four or five) and Aren transfers into Saiki's class with his whole trying to be a normie spiel and how he is totally not gonna be a punk anymore. Aren doesn't really look like his parents (In the same way of how Kusuo and Kusuke don't really look like Kurumi) so Saiki doesn't really suspect anything- and neither does Aren, and they carry on. Imagine a similar situation as the street magician Chouno Uryoku and how his ex-wife did not look anything like how the dude thought of her.

Saiki never really got out of his Street Medic habits and Aren sometimes coming to school with some scrapes from gangsters either trying to pick a fight or drag him back into his past only exacerbates Saiki's medic habits. Like, he always used to carry bandages and alcohol wipes and antibiotic ointment, but had talked to just carrying bandages because a whole medkit had been annoying to carry and needless for an esper like him. Though, he had started carrying a bit more for Kaidou and Hairo when they become closer. (Saiki adds the antibiotic ointment back into his repertoire for Aren)

When they gets close enough and Aren invites them to his house is when the fun really starts. Kaidou and Nendo find Aren's baby album and look through it and everything. But Saiki spots a smaller album on the book shelf and is thinking "Better not show too many of these family albums to those two, who knows what we might see" trying not to think about the album collections documenting his parent's dates and stuff.

And when Aren comes back into the room the four are just vibing and hanging out, Aren even bought out some Coffee jelly as an offering thank you for coming ya introverted bean. So, even Saiki is in a pretty good mood. And then they hear the front door open and close with shuffling and stuff with a 'We're home, Hoodlum!' and Aren going to greet his parents like the totally good kid he is, and Saiki is like "??? That voice sounds kinda familar."

And whadduya know!

When Aren's mom turns around from putting stuff in the fridge, Saiki instanting recognizes her and its the same lady he helped all those years ago! I imagine its not a big dramatic moment but there is a "What a surprise" moment. And she's just like "Haha! Little Medic, you're friends with my brat, what a small world! I hope he's treating you and his other friends right."

And Aren is standing there after trying to introduce his friends like "What." Kaidou says "You know Saiki???? But he never leaves his house!" But Nendou is the one to be like "Wow, Aren's Mom, how do you know my buddy?"'

To which Aren's Mom says briefly that Saiki used to get discounts from the stores near her hangouts (Rough part of town, but great prices for stingy child espers) and how he used to help her and some of her girls. Aren is over here dumbfounded, and Kaidou is just like, "wouldn't he have been like, six, a decade ago??" That Saiki pointedly does not confirm.

But Saiki and Aren's mom are over here just casually talking while all the other teenagers are standing there, bewildered. Like, Aren is over here being like "Hold on, I thought Saiki was a goody-goody, He knows my mom?!?" Meanwhile:

Aren's Mom: How's that brother of yours?

Saiki: Moved to Britain and is still a sore loser.

Aren's Mom: Haha, good to know he's not bothering ya! So, how's my little hoodlum doing in class? Not being a brat is he?

Saiki in a true show of open candidness: If he was a bother, he wouldn't still be in my class.

And Kaidou and Aren are nearly shitting their pants from this being like "SAIKI?????" with it just completely flying over Nendo's head.

Then, the rest of the hang out is Aren's Mom sharing stories of tiny Aren while Saiki is eating more Coffee Jelly

#saiki no psi nan #Saiki K #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo #aren kuboyasu #saiki k au #Little Medic Saiki Au #could be seen as #kubosai

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chishiyasleftnut · 5 months

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Hi everyone ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／This is another fic I wrote in the middle of the night, but I couldn't get the scenario out of my head haha. It's not smutty at all, but I want to experiment a bit with different genres. I hope you'll all like it! (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

2+1

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Genre: Fluff w/ mild angst. Warnings: Minor existential dread, mentioning of abortions. Pairing: Dad!Chishiya x fem!reader.

Plot: After a long day at work, dad!Chishiya contemplates about his new role as a father. Is he even cut out for the job?

1140 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Chishiya had never seen himself as the father type. Perhaps it was the subconscious fear of becoming like his own father - distant and uncaring - that kept him from wilfully pursuing that path. However, despite his best efforts to prevent it, you had managed to accidentally become pregnant and he had had to come to terms with the scary reality of fatherhood.

It wasn’t as bad as he thought. Sure, the little creature was awfully noisy and smelly at times, but he had to admit that she was also kinda cute. Did the positives outweigh the negatives? He wasn’t sure. But he knew he didn’t completely hate being a parent as much as he originally feared.

Luckily, Chishiya was earning enough money to secure you a long maternity leave, allowing you to bond well with your baby in a way Chishiya never would. He had accepted that and somewhat found peace with the fact that he wasn’t expected to be as close to the tiny being as you were. It was easier to handle having to accept that he was the secondary caregiver and not the primary.

Another benefit of his job were the long hours, which gave him a much-needed break from dealing with home life. He had always used his work as a coping mechanism to deal with every small, negative thing life threw at him, but it was only after becoming a dad that he realised that that’s what his own father did too. It scared him to admit that he shared more than just blood with the man who had been so distant his entire childhood. However, he tried to shake the feeling and convinced himself that he was taking extra shifts to afford your maternity leave. Mh, yes. That was 100% why.

Despite desperately seeking a sanction from the reality of his newfound status as a dad, a part of him was always looking forward to coming home. And so he did this night, stepping into your shared apartment, which was only lit up by the moon shining luminously through the big and modern windows. The apartment, which long ago had been only sparsely decorated (just as he liked it), was now covered in proof of your child’s existence; no matter where he looked, he saw baby toys, neatly folded onesies, and an array of pacifiers in every colour possible.

Trying his best to ignore the way his once tidy apartment had changed, he walked with tired steps through the apartment until he got to the master bedroom. Slowly, he opened the door, mindful of the way it creaked so as not to disturb you or the little human sleeping safely in her comfortable crib next to your bed.

For a while, he stood still in the doorway, examining the way you and your baby’s breathing were synchronised, as if you had become one with one another. Although he would never admit it, he envied you - envied the way you so easily let this helpless child into your heart and how you so naturally took care of her every need in a way that Chishiya couldn’t make sense of.

It was those quiet moments that assured him that you made the right choice in keeping the child. Of course you had discussed the possibility of getting an abortion, but now that your daughter was in front of you - living, breathing, feeling - neither of you would want it any other way. How silly of you two to even consider any other option, he thought with a small smile creeping up on his lips.

With gentle steps, he walked into the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him before approaching the bed. Despite how silent he was attempting to be, you regrettably woke up. He hated when he woke you up after a night shift - now more than ever. As a doctor, he was well aware of how desperately a new mother needed rest, and he hated taking that away from you for even a moment.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered while climbing into bed next to you, still dressed in his hospital scrubs. “It’s just me.”

By instinct, you turned around to examine the small child, unable to fall back to sleep yourself until you had assured her that she was safely asleep. Luckily, she was, her chest rising and falling at just the right speed. He admired your natural dedication to ensuring your offspring’s safety and comfort. It always looked like second nature to you; like you were never, not even when asleep, not aware of how your daughter was doing.

Chishiya moved to embrace you, hugging you from behind and burrowing his face into your neck, taking in your scent. And that’s when he realised that work wasn’t his sanctuary; this was. It wouldn’t be easy for him to rearrange his mindset, but he knew he had to try. While you had never complained, he was well aware of how much being the prime caretaker of a newborn was taking a toll on you. You never got a full night’s rest anymore, surviving on napping throughout the day whenever the baby miraculously fell asleep.

That would have to change, and he knew it. No, he not only knew it; he wanted it to change. He wanted to be a better father and partner than his own dad was, and that started with reducing his work hours.

“I’m taking next week off,” he mumbled into the small hairs on your neck, unsure if you were even awake and listening to him. If he was honest, he wasn’t even sure if the comment was directed at you or if he just needed to say it aloud to believe it himself.

To his surprise, you hummed and scooted even closer to him, gently affirming to him that you were listening. Perhaps tomorrow, when he inevitably has to repeat the very same sentence, he will get a more enthusiastic response.

He could only hope that you were just as excited about the new change as he was. Still, he hoped you were without the deep fear that was echoing through his entire being - the fear of failure, of not being good enough for the sweet, innocent baby that was laying just half a metre away from the two of you.

In the last seconds before he slipped into unconsciousness, Chishiya, for the first time, found peace in his new role as a father, coming to terms with the fear of not being enough for the almost doll-like little girl that lay peacefully so close to him.

After all, very few great things were accomplished without fear and worry, and there was no doubt in his mind that this truly was a great thing. He could and would change. The two of you had turned into three, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 months

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The Tippington Affair

Summary: Y/N and Dean are unaware of just how similar they are.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Angst. Pining. Some making out. Kissing. Fluff.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 5,314

A/N: In February I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hiii :)) idk of you're taking requests rn, but i was wondering if you could write something with dean x fem!reader where dean really loves her for a while but hasn't told her and plan on never telling cause he just thinks he's bad for her or that he's "poison", but he sees her getting close to some guy they're working with and starts to get like suuuper jealous, enough to make him forget he's not supposed to be with her. I absolutely love your writing and your stories, I'm pretty sure I've read them all haha :)) thanks!

It took me a while to get to this, but I hope you think it was worth it! Thank you so much for this request, Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Dean shouldered his big green duffle bag, slamming Baby’s trunk and frowning at his phone.

Dean scowled at the name “Tippington”. Scott Tippington.

What the fuck kinda name is Tippington? Dean thought angrily. Sounds like he should be taking cigars and brandy in the library instead of out hunting with a flannel and a shotgun.

Sam joined him back at the car, having just checked them in and got their room key from the front desk. He tossed it to Dean.

“203.” He told him and they bounded up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the Sleep Eazzz Motel.

When they’d spotted the motel on the side of the highway and Dean mentioned stopping, Sam told him the name of the motel was too close to “Sleazzz Motel” and they should keep driving. But Dean had already been driving for almost twenty-four hours straight. Sam offered to take over but Dean said he needed to stretch out on a real bed.

“Plus,” he’d pointed out, “you have a habit of really riding the brakes.”

So, they’d stopped for the night.

As they walked through the orange motel room door, they both gave a relieved sigh. The outside of the motel was hideous, but the room seemed decent. It actually smelled and looked clean, there was a decently modern TV, one from the 21st century anyway, and to Dean’s delight, both beds had magic fingers.

They each picked a bed and dropped their bags. Sam sat on the end of his bed and ran a hand down his face before turning to his brother.

“Hey, did you manage to get a hold of Y/N? Is she coming?”

Dean dug into his bag and started taking weapons out to clean them, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “N’ah, she’s werewolf hunting down in North Carolina.”

Sam nodded. “Ah. Too bad, we could use her.”

Dean shrugged. “We got this, it’ll be fine.”

Sam grunted his response and started unlacing his boots. Dean sat back on the bed and laid out a cloth to set the weapons on before starting in on his 1911.

After a minute Sam kicked off his boots and pushed himself backwards so he was leaning against the pillows on the bed as he picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. Dean was quiet until Sam settled on an old episode of The Simpsons and tossed the remote aside.

“Hey, do you know a guy named Scott Tippington? ‘Nother hunter?”

Sam scrunched his forehead thinking. “Out of Utah? Tall guy, blonde?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know him, that’s why I was asking you. What’s he like?”

Sam sat forward a bit to pull off his overly warm flannel. “Well, if it’s the guy I’m thinking of, I only worked with him once, a few years ago.” He darted a look towards Dean. “When you and I were, uh, apart. After Amy.”

It was awkward for a moment before Sam looked back at the TV and continued on. “Anyway, I don’t remember a ton about him, but we ended up on the same Rugaru case and we hunted it together. He was good, I think. If he was bad or stupid, I’d probably remember him more.” He looked at Dean again. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, just Y/N said she’s working with him again. This is like the third or fourth case in a row they’ve worked together, so I was just curious.”

Sam smiled knowingly. “Ah! I get it now.”

Dean scowled at his little brother and then went back to aggressively cleaning the barrel of his pistol. “There’s nothing to ‘get’.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow.“You’re worried Y/N’s getting a bit too close with this guy.”

Dean scoffed. “Whatever. She’s teamed up with him a couple times, and I just wanna make sure he’s not a tool that’s gonna get her killed.”

“Uh huh.” Sam said in tones of disbelief.

Dean shook his head. “Shut up.”

He didn’t bother arguing the point with Sam any further because he knew Sam would see through him - had been seeing through him for the last four years, since the day they’d first had a run in with the former FBI agent.

***

Dean had been immediately blown away by her. She was a power and a force all unto her own, and she was immediately suspicious of them.

They were working the case of a shifter who was shifting into different parents, and snatching that parent’s kid. They were pretty sure the bastard was selling the kids to other monsters for obviously horrific reasons.

Y/N was only aware of the most recent kid, snatched ten hours earlier. She was on the case, knowing that a twenty-four hour clock was ticking. There were witnesses and CCTV camera footage of the boy’s father picking him up from school, so of course he was their prime suspect.

But when Sam and Dean came into the local FBI field office and said they’d been instructed to interrogate that suspect, Y/N had just frowned at them and asked to see their badges again. She’d studied them for a worryingly long time before handing them back.

She squinted at them. “You look kind of familiar to me. Have we worked together?”

Both brothers assured her they’d never met and demanded again to speak with the suspect in custody. She’d reluctantly agreed and taken them into the room. But they got little new information out of the incredibly distraught father.

As they were leaving, Y/N caught Dean’s arm and he’d been amazed with how much that little touch had affected him and how badly it made him want to pull her closer, cover her delectable mouth with his and see what she tasted like.

But she’d merely asked him one more time if they’d ever worked together. When Dean denied it again, she shook her head and let him go.

But early the next morning, she’d been outside their motel room, pounding on the door. Dean’s bed was the closest and he stumbled out of it, half asleep, to open the door. He stood there in his black boxers and gray t-shirt and she seemed momentarily surprised, looking him up and down before she pushed past him into the room.

“Hey!” He protested. He looked over at Sam’s bed, but it was already empty and made up. Probably out running. Dean thought with an internal eye roll as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on as Y/N spun around to confront him.

“I know why I know you.” When Dean said nothing, she planted her hands on her hips.

“You're Dean Winchester. And that guy with you,” she pointed at Sam's bed, “is your brother Sam.” When Dean still stayed silent she moved her hands from her hips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Also, you’re dead.”

She began pacing back and forth in front of him. “After a horrifying and bloody murder spree across several states, you were both killed - ‘decapitated’ the report said. When I called the sheriff who wrote the report, I found out that both he and his daughter, who just happened to be the coroner who processed the bodies, were also missing and presumed dead.”

She turned back to look directly at Dean and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he found himself once again caught up in how beautiful she was, in the way her eyes flashed as she studied him. And once again he had the impulse to wrench her forward and crush her mouth under his…probably a bad idea, he thought.

Y/N eyeballed him, but he couldn't decipher her expression. Her voice was stern when she spoke. “I should be here to arrest the murderers who faked their own death.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

She stared at him for a minute before she shook her head. “No, because you and your brother aren’t the only weird thing going on with this case. After you left yesterday I dug deeper into the case and stumbled across six other cases, from local municipalities, of missing kids. The cases had been reported to the FBI for consultation, but they all seemed cut and dry, so the locals took care of it themselves.”

She inhaled deeply, frowning at Dean. “The disappearances of all six kids were reported as parental abductions. In every case, there was footage of the parent picking the kid up from school, but every accused parent vehemently denied taking them. Four out of the six suspects arrested, also had ex spouses who refused to believe their former partner had taken the child because they were in very friendly and functional co-parenting situations. Oh, and all six kids were never found, and no body was ever recovered.”

She shook her head. “Now there is a seventh kid missing and it’s exactly the same situation. If you add to that, two fake FBI agents who are actually mass murderers back from the dead, well I gotta think there’s something more going on here that I don��t understand.”

Sam walked through the door just then, freezing when he saw Y/N standing in the middle of the motel room.

“Uh…”

Dean waved him in. “Come on in, Sammy. Time to give the talk.”

So, they’d spilled the beans about who they were and the life they lived. She didn’t believe easily, but eventually she admitted that there had been a few other cases in her ten year career that had felt off, that left her with a bad taste in her mouth about what was really going on.

She’d insisted on helping them find the seven year old boy that was missing, and with her help they’d found the shifter and put a silver bullet in his heart in time to save the kid and return him to his real parents.

After that Y/N tried to go back to being an FBI Agent, but eventually she came to see the boys.

“I can’t go back to pretending that everything is normal. Everytime we’re going after a suspect, I’m wondering whether they’re actually a monster in disguise, or if they’ve got a monster framing them.” She’d shrugged. “So, teach me to be a hunter. I feel like there’s gonna be a lot of career overlap, and hey, the FBI doesn’t pay great either.”

So they’d helped her out, but she was a very quick study and it hadn’t taken long for her to become a great hunter. They often worked cases together.

Or they had until a few months ago when Y/N had met up with Scott Tippington and started working all her cases with him.

Tippington. Dean thought again, dismissively. Definitely a douche.

***

“Cheers!” Y/N reached across the table and clinked glasses with Sam and then turned slightly to touch glasses with Dean who was sitting beside her.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Cheers.” He said with a nod.

They all took a big gulp of beer and then clunked their heavy glass mugs back down on the table.

“So, how have you guys been?” Y/N asked, wiping her hand over mouth to ensure no beer clung to her upper lip.

Dean grunted non-committedly and she looked to Sam for further explanation.

Sam chuckled. “That’s Dean’s way of saying taking down that nest of vamps we went after, ended up being a bit tougher than we thought it would be. Three of the vamps were friggin’ huge and they didn’t go down easy.”

“Shit!” Y/N said, shaking her head and looking Sam up and down. “They were bigger than you?”

Dean answered. “Yeah, believe it or not. One of them picked Sam up like he was gonna bench press him and then chucked him clear across the room. Thankfully, I was too quick and agile for him to catch me.”

Sam snorted. “Yes, you were just like a ninja while the one with the beard had you in a headlock choking you out.”

Dean waved him away. “Got out of it didn’t I?”

Y/N chuckled and took another sip of her beer. Sam shifted his gaze from his brother to her and gave her one of his dimpled smiles. “How about you? How’d your last hunt go? Wolves right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, and then a wraith on the way back. They were both pretty quick and clean. We took them out without a problem.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right you were working with uh…what was his name again?” He asked, as though the name hadn’t been plaguing his nightmares.

“Scott Tippington.”

Dean picked up his cardboard coaster and began shredding it. “Right. You’ve worked with him quite a bit lately. I guess he must be good.”

Y/N shrugged a shoulder, smiling fondly at the memory of her most recent partner. “Yeah, he is. I like working with him a lot. He makes me laugh.”

Dean nodded, a little rapidly, she thought. “Oh that’s good. Important that your partner can tickle your funny bone just before a demon smashes your head into a wall.”

Y/N frowned. “He’s a good hunter too.”

“Huh.” Dean grunted. “That’s good.” He nodded. “I mean it’s obviously more important that he’s a good hunter so, you know, he's not gonna get you killed. But it’s great that you get along so well too. Important.” He finished with a mumble.

Y/N looked at him askance. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The table was quiet for a minute until the waitress came by to drop off more pretzels and peanuts for the table.

Dean turned a bright smile her way and Y/N felt her stomach lurch as he moved into flirtation mode. She’d seen it many times before, over the last four years, and it never got easier. It was, in fact, the main reason she’d started hunting with Scott. She’d needed distance from Dean. She couldn’t keep watching him walk out the door with yet another new woman under his arm.

But once again, his charm was in full effect as he addressed their waitress. “Thanks sweetheart.” The waitress had long, dark hair, big boobs and a short skirt. She also had a very sweet smile that she flashed his way, making Y/N wanna scream or scratch her eyes out - maybe both.

The waitress popped a hip out as she stood beside their table. “No trouble, honey. Can I get you anything else? At all?” She asked, her warm brown eyes entirely focused on Dean.

Y/N thought the woman was being a little obvious and forward the way she rested her popped hip against their table and leaned forward so that Dean had a fabulous view of the cleavage revealed by her low cut, scoop neck t-shirt.

Dean didn’t even try to hide his ogling and Y/N gritted her teeth as he leaned his elbows on the table, looking up at the waitress. His green eyes glittered brightly with obviously dirty thoughts and promises. “Well, I wouldn’t mind knowing what time you get off.”

The waitress blushed prettily and bit her lip. “Um, I’m off at midnight.”

Dean gave an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Well, how ‘bout that, midnight is just when I was planning to head home. Maybe we could meet up.”

Y/N was clenching her teeth so hard she thought she might crack one as the waitress giggled and nodded. “Okay, maybe you can give me a ride home.”

Dean stared straight into the woman’s eyes and slowly licked his lips before speaking. “Oh, I can definitely give you a ride, sweetheart.”

“Jesus.” Y/N heard Sam mumble under his breath, but she didn’t spare him a glance.

She was too intent on staring at the waitress who was practically salivating as she stared at Dean, before she giggled again and bounced away from their table.

Dean watched her go with his head slightly tilted.

When he swung his gaze back to her and Sam, he seemed slightly angry and she figured he expected them to bug him about his carousing while they were all just sitting at the table.

She wanted to make sure he knew she didn’t care, so she laughed. “Jesus Dean, why didn’t you just mount her right here on the fucking table.”

Oops, she thought, that sounded a bit more angry than teasing.

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “What? I wanted a date, I got a date.”

Y/N snorted. “A date? A date implies dinner and a movie, I doubt very much you’ll bother with either. You don’t even know the woman’s name.”

Dean scowled at her. “It’s Cindy.” Y/N raised an eyebrow and he shrugged again. “She had a name tag, and I notice things.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, especially when they're pinned to a pair of enormous tits.”

Dean wore half a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He drained his beer in one swallow and stood up. “I’m gonna go ask Cindy for another one.”

He sauntered away and Y/N took her hands off the table and shoved them into her lap so Sam couldn’t see her shaking.

She raised her eyes to his and plastered on what she hoped looked like a real smile. “So, Sam, how is YOUR love life going?”

Sam chuckled. “Non-existent and boring.” He took a sip of beer. “How about you?”

“Non-existent and boring.” Y/N said with a small nod.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So…” Sam cocked his head. “You don’t have anything going on with this uh…Tippington guy you’ve been working with?”

“What? Ew! No.”

Sam frowned in apparent confusion. “Ew? Why ew?”

Y/N shook her head, her face still scrunched. “Because he’s the same age as my Dad!”

Surprise registered on Sam's face followed quickly by confusion. “Scott Tippington? Out of Utah?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, he's from Virginia, or…no West Virginia.”

“Oh.”

Y/N shook her head and then grinned at the idea of dating the grumpy old hunter. “I mean he's pretty good-looking for a 68 year old hunter. But…I think we're just gonna be friends.”

Sam smiled, chagrined. “That's probably a good plan.”

Dean sauntered back towards them and Y/N felt her stomach muscles tighten at his long-limbed, bow legged stride. Dean moved in a way that always made her take notice. When he was hunting, his movements were crisp and efficient, no wasted motions. He was precise and deadly.

When he wasn’t hunting though, when he was relaxed, he moved his body through the world with a kind of ease, loose and almost carefree. He reclined in chairs, leaned in doorways, and put his feet up on tables. He stretched and relaxed his tall frame into comfortable positions that always made Y/N wanna climb up into his lap and cuddle.

He plunked himself back down beside her with a new mug of beer. Y/N tried to make her grimace look like a grin.

“So, you got your evening all planned out?”

Dean nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, we’re outta here in about fifteen minutes.” He looked at Sam and winked. “Don’t wait up.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning to.”

Y/N let some of her frustration show. “So, you’re really gonna ditch us after like a half hour. I thought we were supposed to be catching up.”

Dean’s jaw ticked as she looked at his profile. “I figured we were all done catching up. Your wolf hunt went great cause you had your amazing new partner and our vamp hunt went kinda shitty cause we could have used an extra pair of hands.”

Y/N scowled at him. “Seriously? Are you pissed at me for hunting with Scott? I wasn’t aware we’d signed exclusive contracts.”

Dean chuckled darkly. “N’ah, we’re definitely not exclusive. You are under no obligation to us whatsoever. So, you’re good.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Y/N said and Dean turned to look at her. “You’re seriously running off to spend the night with wonder tits over there because you’re pouting?”

“Wow.” Dean said with a head shake. “Whatever happened to the sisterhood? That was pretty rude.”

Y/N scowled at him. “You know, you’re right. I should do my part for the sisterhood by going over to that nice girl and warning her to find another ‘ride’.” She said, using air quotes. “Cause God knows she’s gonna come to regret it when she turns into just another notch on your belt.”

There was no hiding her annoyance now and she didn’t bother.

Dean dropped his jovial pretext too and turned to face her better. “Why the hell are you being so preachy and judgemental? Since when do you give a shit who I fuck?”

“Dean-” Sam started to speak but Y/N spoke over him.

“I don’t.” she denied vehemently. “But I mean, Jesus. Do you ever think with anything other than the dick in your pants? I mean seriously, it’s gross.”

“Y/N-” Sam tried again but Dean leapt to his feet, banging the table and sloshing their beer across the wooden top.

“For fuck’s sake.” Sam mumbled as he jumped up too, trying to avoid the beer streaming towards him.

Dean’s face was furious as he stared down at her. “Well I don’t wanna gross you out, so I guess I’ll just go sit at the bar till I’m ready to go.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, guilt plagued her when she saw the hurt in Dean’s mossy green eyes as she slid out of the bench seat to stand just in front of him.

“Don’t bother. I’m gonna take off, got a lot of driving between here and my next hunt.” She stared up at Dean, hoping against hope that he might tell her that they should both stay.

But he just smiled a tight smile. “Yeah, say hi to Tippington for us.”

Y/N gave a terse nod. “Yeah, whatever.” She glanced at Sam. “Take care, Sam. Hope to see you soon.”

She didn’t bother addressing Dean again, just turning away and walking out the door, wishing she could leave behind her feelings for him just as easily.

***

Dean grabbed a rag from the bar and wiped up the spilled beer before sliding back into the seat across from his brother who was frowning at him.

“Dean, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

Dean glared back. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Why don’t you chase Y/N down and ask what the fuck’s gotten into her lately. She goes months without seeing me, us, I mean, and then storms away just because I had the audacity to make a date for later.”

Sam let out a frustrated growl. “You really think she was just mad you made a date, which, by the way, is a very loose translation for what actually happened with the waitress.”

“No, she was obviously mad and took off because she thinks I’m gross, cause she disapproves of my lifestyle, I guess.” He said, trying not to let the hurt bubble up.

What the fuck do I care what she thinks of my choices? He thought angrily.

Sam opened his mouth to say something more, but Cindy showed up at the end of their table.

“My boss let me off a bit early.” She smiled bashfully and nodded towards the door, clearly anxious to be underway. “Wanna go?”

Dean smiled at her and stood up, grabbing her hand. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

***

There was a pounding on Y/N’s motel door that would have woken her up if she’d actually been asleep. But she’d just been restlessly tossing and turning, feeling guilty about Dean, but hurt over Dean too. The fact that he hadn’t texted back, clearly meant he was still on his “date”.

The long and short of it was she was in a rotten mood and the pounding on her door at two in the morning wasn’t helping.

Stupid drunken idiots next door.

When they wouldn’t take the hint and go away, Y/N threw off the covers and stomped to the door, throwing it open, ready to tell them to fuck off. But it wasn’t her neighbors on the other side.

“Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, her surprise turning into a frown. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your date?”

“I got your text.” Dean answered, brusquely.

He was staring at her, raking his eyes up and down her form standing in the doorway. Two spots of pink rose in Y/N’s cheeks as she realized she was just wearing a ratty old t-shirt and panties. She tugged self-consciously at the front hem of the shirt trying to ensure she was covered.

She opened her mouth to ask again what Dean was doing, but before she could get a word out, he’d pushed her backwards into the room with his hands at her waist. In one quick motion he kicked the door shut and spun her so he could slam her up against the wood-paneled wall.

She gasped, her eyes wide and her heart slamming against her ribs. Before she could get a word out, he was crashing his lips onto hers and sweeping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like smooth whiskey and she was quickly drunk on him, her head reeling as his hands moved from her waist to grasp her cheeks and hold her steady.

His mouth ravaged her, pulling shocked and hungry whimpers from her throat. When he finally pulled his mouth away from hers, he simply trailed his silken lips down the length of her throat, while his rough hands strayed down her body to slip under the hem of her shirt and up her ribcage. His hands rested there, and he lifted his thumbs to brush tantalizingly against her rock hard nipples.

Y/N threw her head back, cracking it against the cheap wood paneling and knocking some sense into herself along with the slight pain.

She shook her head and pushed against his forearms. “Dean! What the hell? What are you doing?”

He pulled his head up, licking his lips and panting heavily. His hands stilled, but they stayed warm against her ribs.

She tried to make sense of what was going on, but his tantalizing lips were still hovering above her and it was everything she could do to not simply ignore her sense of reason and latch on to them again.

Instead she shook her head again and frowned. “Dean, what's going on? You were supposed to be on a date, remember?” She tried not to let too much vitriol into her voice, but felt like she’d failed.

Dean’s jaw ticked. “I just drove her straight home.” He paused, still breathing rough. “I don’t want her.” His gaze dropped to her mouth again and he bit his bottom lip. “All I want is you.”

Y/N shook her head, willing herself to wake up and live with the disappointment of this all being a dream. “Dean,” she whispered, “what are you saying? Where is this coming from?”

Dean’s gaze turned sad before he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. “Don’t date him.”

Y/N frowned in confusion. “Don’t date who?”

Dean shoved away from her and ran a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “I know I have no right to ask you, I have no right to you, no right to love you, I know I’m poison, I know I’m an asshole for trying to make you connected to me, I know I’ll never deserve you.”

He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “I know Tippington is probably a much better option, but…” He strode three paces back to her and cupped her cheeks in his big hands. “But he can’t possibly love you more, want you more. I know that too.”

All Y/N could do was blink at him and then suddenly his words penetrated her brain and tears flooded her eyes and she begged her mind to just let her keep sleeping, keep living in the dream.

Dean’s face crumpled and he looked stricken. He pulled her against his chest and she buried her face there. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It doesn't matter. Ignore me. It’s okay, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to say anything back. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please don’t cry.”

His voice sounded choked and he rubbed a hand soothingly up and down her back. “I shouldn’t have come here like this. I’m an asshole, just ignore me, okay?” He repeated, and took a shuddery breath. “Date who you want, of course. Don’t cry.”

Y/N pulled back from the softness of his flannel beneath her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she shook her head. “And what if I wanna date you? Does that declaration of love come with dinner and a movie?”

It was Dean’s turn to stare blankly at her. She reached up and dashed away her tears before wrapping her hands around the back of his head and pulling his lips back to hers. Y/N kissed him for a solid thirty seconds before his brain seemed to kick into gear and understand what she was saying. When he did though, he growled and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around her ribs and pressing her close. She reveled in the long, hard feel of him pressed up against her, the way she’d dreamed of him for so many years.

When they were both desperate for oxygen they finally broke the kiss and panted harshly as they looked into each other’s eyes, both of them thrilled when they read the real, solid proof of love in the other’s gaze.

Dean’s beautiful face split into an equally beautiful smile. “So, are you really picking me?”

Y/N smiled back warmly and let her hands rest against his scruffy cheeks. “Dean, I love you, and I choose you completely, over everyone, anyone. But…” She grinned at him mischievously. “Scott Tippington is sixty-eight years old and has never been anything more than a good hunting partner. Just so we’re clear.”

Dean frowned. “But Sam said -” He cut himself short before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “So, I was jealous of nothing.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Were you jealous? Really? Like me with the waitress…Cindy.” She gave a little eye roll.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, we’re a couple of dumbasses.”

Y/N punched him lightly in the bicep. “Speak for yourself. I wasn’t a dumbass, I was a tragic pining heroine. After all, you gave me no hints you felt this way; how could I have possibly known?”

“Are you serious?” Dean asked incredulously. “I did everything but climb into your lap and beg.”

Y/N laughed and then felt her body warm as she laid her hands on his broad chest. “I’d be onboard for that.”

Dean’s eyes darkened as he lowered his head and captured her lips in a long, languid, sensual kiss, just dipping his tongue in to taste her and sipping at her lips.

When he pulled out of the kiss to nuzzle the shell of her ear and then suck her earlobe between his plump lips, Y/N gasped and clutched his shirt in her hands.

“Please.” She whimpered.

Dean gave a soft, slightly wicked chuckle against her neck as he skimmed down her skin. “That was supposed to be my line, sweetheart.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@rizlowwritessortof

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester one shot

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joelsbeard · 3 months

Text

pre-outbreak!joel when you're pregnant ❤️ part 3

These are extra fluffy and spicy lol, enjoy!!

You buy a pregnancy pillow bc you're just so sore all the time! and find it so hard to sleep, but you end up using it only half of the time, the other half you use joel as your pregnancy pillow hehe. You lay on your side and throw your leg over his hip and rest your belly on joel's torso while he holds you and massages your lower back with one arm. He loves that you use him as your pregnancy pillow bc he can immediately feel when the baby kicks and he can rest his hand on your stomach ❤️ You wake up or go to sleep hearing him talk and sing to the baby 🥺

Shopping with you isn't his favorite since a lot of the time it's you looking around at stuff while he just waits for you and holds your bags lol, but he loves going shopping with you to get things for the baby 🥺 you still are of course much more enthusiastic, always pointing out the cutest little toys and blankets and clothes (you're like "baby please we have to buy this for her!!🥺" and its a little bib that says "mommy loves me" 🥺) but also bc his papa bear instincts are already kicking in and he wants to make sure you buy the best, safest, and sturdiest carrier, stroller, etc.

Speaking of which, with his contractor background he does build a few things for the baby 🥺 He builds the most beautiful crib and rocking chair, and surprises you with it once he's finished. You had no idea he was building the crib, so you were really confused when he would be so nonchalant when you were at the store looking for one, but you figured all the stuff in the garage or work shed was just materials for the rocking chair. You cry when you see he built a crib for your baby 🥺 (you fuck him right then and there lol you LOVE your man and you're so happy he's the father of your baby)

Sometimes he has to make sure you don't go too overboard with buying too much baby stuff (its so hard, everything is so cute!!) and he just reminds you that you can add it to your baby shower registry

He is the sweetest man ever, and always gives you massages for your sore muscles and swollen feet (and once he massages all the soreness out of you he fucks you because 1. how could he not 2. he's just "making sure you feel extra good" LOL)

During your second trimester he is MORE than happy to dick you down when you're feeling horny, and since your initial nausea and morning sickness have subsided you are now just horny 24/7, and you fuck like a million times a day lol. Every time you're like "🥺 babyyy I'm horny :( take off your clothes like rn" LOL he's like "awww does my baby want sex :(" then he rips his shirt off and immediately manhandles you (without hurting you or the baby ofc) onto the nearest surface lol and later in your pregnancy when you're more uncomfortable he'll make sure to hold you up or put you on the bed or something so you can enjoy it as much as possible hehe.

One time he's like "I hope the baby is okay with all of our... increased physical activity LOL and I hope I'm not hurting her" and you're like "😭 baby i'm sure its fine lol, the doctor said it was okay and it helps me feel better" and he goes "yeah but still if i think about it sometimes it is kinda weird, wouldn't wanna poke her or anything" HAHA but you say "well she'll have to deal with it it's how she got here in the first place, and if its too uncomfortable for me I'll stop" and yes he fucks you afterwards ❤️

He goes crazy with how big your tits get, you always catch him looking at your tits and you're like 🙄 "babeee" and he's like "what, can a man not look at his girl's tiddies? I can't help it, the girls are looking great" LMAOO which of course you can't deny, you've been taking more ✨spicy✨ pics of yourself before you started showing since your boobs really did look amazing lol. He's definitely gotten more obsessed with how big they've gotten during sex, and he's always squeezing them or spending time kissing them even more than he usually does lol. He's just like "god I love these tits so much🤤" and you're like "yeah well remember these are for our daughter!!" "fair enough but these were mine first okay" ( men 🙄)

You decorate the baby's room together 🥺 he thought about surprising you entirely and doing it all himself, but he decided it would be more special and a good bonding activity for the two of you to decorate it together ❤️ You of course plan it all together, but he takes care of the actual heavy lifting with moving the furniture and painting (he doesn't want you breathing it in since you're pregnant) and you have a fun time assembling some of the easy stuff together lol.

Your favorite part is finally getting to hang up all the adorable outfits and onesies, and putting the little socks and headbands in the drawers. You buy a good amount of baby books so you can both read to her.

Tommy gives you the onesie and bib ⬇️ at your baby shower LMAO

The bib is hilarious, and you do end up actually using that onesie sometimes when all her other laundry is dirty 😭 every time joel sees the baby wearing it he either sighs or goes "can't argue with that" LMAOO

#tlou #the last of us #joel miller #game joel miller #pixel joel #young joel miller #joel miller headcanons #hc's #joel miller x reader

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catboymoments · 8 months

Note

Before Hyacinth learns about being a Grimwalker does he think that they were adopted? Like how Mittens was but at a younger age? Or do they think they’re Hunter and Willow’s biological child? Or something else? And if they were told to be adopted did they wonder about their origins, whether in an analytical curious way or a “I wonder if my bio parents loved me” way? Sorry a lot of questions haha

I think they would do what any good parent would and give him the age appropriate truth- since he’s pretty observant he’d probably ask like… “why don’t I look like mama at all? Bronnie looks like both her mom and her renny, but I just kinda look like dad…” (Mittens wouldn’t have been in the picture yet if Hyacinth is pretty young here.)

n Willow and Hunter would be like. Nervous glance. Ok let’s do this. We prepared for this a little.

Cont. Under the cut to save space lol

“Well, you know how most witches and demons look a little like their parents, right? Like how Bronnie has green hair like Mx Raine, or how your mama looks a little like both grandpa and pop?”

“mhm!”

“Well, that’s because- um. Usually-“

“Most witchlings and demon kits are made by different… parts of their parents! Like how a seed can grow into a tree or a Biting Nettle after it’s pollinated, yeah?“

“Right! like- remember how when Aunt Luz had Azura in her tummy because she still had to grow?”

“Uh huh…”

“It’s sort of like that. But… you didn’t grow in my tummy. And your dad-“

“I uh- my body is… different.”

“Like mine?”

“Yes!! Exactly! That’s because you and I share a lot of things, bud. Like how I had eyes like yours in that picture, the one from before Flapjack helped me? A-And we have the same big ears and that one lock of hair that never stays straight no matter how we style it?” (He softly flicks Hyacinth’s hair noodle with a smile, and Hyacinth giggles, so unlike the past.)

“You and I are related by our biology, what makes our bodies up as… witches. You’re not related that way to your mom, but you are still, absolutely, without a doubt her child, and she is still your mama. The love is there and she’s known you since the day you were born, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I love your mom, and we both love you, which makes us family.”

“Exactly. You’re our baby- my baby, even if I didn’t help to bring you here. Okay?”

“Oh… okay! So it’s like how Uncle Gus is my uncle but you guys and him don’t have the same dads?”

“…”

“Y-yeah that’s a much simpler way to put it!”

#this got away from me OOPS!!!! but it’s very sweet #I might clean it up and export it to ao3 later… enjoy gamers #toh nextgen

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

Note

Hey! could i get an imagine/oneshot fluff nsfw Daemon x fem!reader where they are married and have a very good, even envied relationship (they totally trust each other and are complicit in everything) but the reader is extremely (at exorbitant levels indeed) touch hungry and soooo needy for him, (but not in a bad way) with a lot of fluff please? (sorry for my english)

Ten & One

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: As the 11th child out of 14 kids, all you knew was chaos. The pros of being one of the youngest from such a big family meant most of the duties were already fulfilled by your elder siblings, and yet the unavoidable con of having to marry well still lingered. So one can only imagine how wild your house was when you first brought home the Targaryen prince as your husband. It's even worse now that the endless supply of children hailed them as their new playmate.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: the way I said this would be short 🤡, smut (impregnation kink, praise kink, choking, riding, oral [f receiving], vaginal penetration), trash talking older sisters (trust me), fem!reader, wife!reader, so so so many kids, soft!daemon, scared by kids!daemon HAHA, girl dad energy!daemon, reader has baby fever ig, flufffffffff, typos, etc.

A/N: YO IVE NEVER WRITTEN A REQUEST SO FAST I THINK yeah so this turned into.... whatever this is. it started out with when I thought of a conflict for the prompt, but then it spiraled like it always does. 🤠 I hope you like it though nonnie!!! And don't even worry about your english. i still cant spell after all the years ive spoken it. 😪 we bilinguals gotta stick together Here's kinda a part 2 to it "Mine"!!!!

In all his years of life, Daemon faced an immense volume of angst, treachery, death, and pain. He was far from a coward and did not even waver under the gaze of dragons. Yet as he sat in the middle of a what he realized was a sacrificing room, only then did he know true fear.

They were surrounding him, filthy, loud, concerning moist-

"Why the fuck are your hands wet, Silas?" Daemon cringed as he grabbed the red haired toddler's hand before it landed on his cheek.

One of the nannies present in the nursery looked to the other and exchanged knowing and amused looks.

One blonde haired boy began to cry as one brown haired boy yanked the toy from his hand. Daemon turns, instinctively needing to hush the child, that was until the brunette begins to cry as well, because a raven haired boy steals the toy he had stolen.

The nannies don't even need to go to the crying kids as one of the older children present, their sister, Daemon thinks, worked to calm them down.

The twin brother of the boy in Daemon's grip with the same burning red hair looked over to whom spoke from the other side of the room, halting his game with his much, much younger brother inside the crib he was not supposed to be in. Silas' lips purse into a soft thoughtful line, brows furrowing against each other as he looks to his small palms, "my hands are not wet, uncle!"

The boy says this in such a sweet tone, with not hint of malice, that Daemon actually feels bad for cursing.

Upon catching where the boy was, one of the nannies move to remove him from the crib. It's futile though, the moment the woman is distracted with the other children, he climbs right back in.

Silas' twin, Oliver, the one with the actual wet hand, vindicates his brother by slapping the prince's lips with his free one, "don't say bad words!"

Daemon looks at the child-he-did-not-know-the-name-of. His only thought was at least the hand that slapped to his face wasn't wet.

"Go to your mother," Daemon commands.

Had it been anyone else, it would have struck fear in them, but the child does not recognize the threat at all, especially not when three of his female cousins come running to Daemon, making the man himself reel back in some semblance of fear.

It seems they finally found the comb and clips they needed to fix his hair with.

Fuck.

"PRINCE UNCLE!" one girl excitedly screams, shooing Oliver from away from Daemon. Oliver gleefully runs towards his darker haired cousins and engage in combat with pillows.

One nanny promptly scolds them when feathers explode everywhere.

Rebecca, or so he thinks that's her name, grins as she makes her way to Daemon's lap. Her older sister, Annaliese (?), runs behind him. The youngest among the three, Constance, he knew, sat on the other side of his lap next to her cousin.

All at once, Rebecca throws her curly, golden-brown locks behind her, making it splash against Daemon's face, adding to injury when her elbow hits the prince' jaw. Annaliese rips at Daemon's scalp, undoing the tie he had in his own silver-white hair, causing a groan to leave his lips. Constance bounces up and down Daemon's lap as she wraps her small arms around his torso and looked up at him with an adoring look.

Verdict, Daemon didn't know what to feel.

Meanwhile.

"Oh, I honestly thought you'd have kids by now!" my eldest sister, Elise nudges me, "with how hotly your prince eyes you-"

"You should have come back pregnant," our fifth born sibling, Catherine, cuts in scolding me, "I already bragged about your fertile womb to those stupid, big mouthed ladies at court."

"Sissy!" I cry out.

"They fucking deserved to be put in their place," Catherine growls, "don't they know how many children our mother sired?" she scoffs, "the audacity of those rats to call you barren just because you haven't gotten pregnant after a few months of marriage."

Elise rolls her eyes, "they're just jealous because their breast milk comes out like sand."

My jaw drops.

"Their cunts are probably drier than sandpaper," Catherine says in agreement.

Our youngest sibling, Gretta, and the only other girl amongst our siblings, makes a face and tries to halt the vulgar insults by telling me, "they're probably just jealous you snagged the prince and they didn't."

"Probably?!" Elise quips.

Catherine throws her head back in laughter, "those smelly cunts are maddened by the very idea."

My older sisters begin to fall into more trash talk. Gretta and I exchange knowing looks and take each other's hand before slowly walking away.

After we flee, I decide I am wholly ready to leave my house and all it's chaos.

"My love, I'm ready to- oh," my perky voice falls in shock when I see my husband's hair tangled up in multiple clips and ribbons. It seems the sneaky girls also got their hands on a bit of rouge, judging by the smeared red on his face.

"AUNTIE LOOK!" Frances (Rebecca) cries in joy as she stood beside her captive, affectionately hugging him, "WE MADE PRINCE UNCLE SO PRETTY!"

"FRANCES, DON'T!" Bethany (Annaliese) scolds her younger sister when she messes up her work, "YOU'RE RUINING MY RIBBONNNNNSSSS!"

"Girls, please, your cousin is asleep!" Daemon scolds weakly, cradling the little girl, Constance, in his arms.

Frances looks down on her cousin, "Oh," she leans down, "prince uncle, I can carry her into the crib if you like."

Daemon turns to Frances, bringing a finger to her face, stroking her cheek sweetly, "I'll do that myself," he turns to the other girl, "if," he drags out, "my lady sets me free."

Bethany takes Daemon's hollow cheeks into her warm hands. Daemon smiles at the sight of her gleaming eyes.

My lips pull into a pout and my hear soars at their exchange.

Bethany, then nodding to herself, turns to Frances, "we did good, sister!"

Frances squeals yet again, nearly choking Daemon as she embraces him tightly.

"Frances!" I finally intervene, amused face falling into concern, "you will behead the poor man at this point."

Frances turns to the said man and releases him slowly. Daemon catches his breath, smiling at the girl, impressed by her strength. He finally stands and brings Constance to the occupied crib where Silas and a baby he-did-not-know were napping.

Frances runs over to me, arms snaking around my skirt as much as her little limbs could, "auntie," she coos, "will you be staying for supper?"

I steal a look at Daemon who is now rubbing his face, unknowingly ruining the rouge he must have forgot he had on. This promptly triggers Bethany as she falls to her knees and mourns her craft, shrieking so loudly she could probably wake the dead.

Daemon, in his panic, promptly picks the girl up, like one would a bag, then runs out of the room, as not to make trigger the rest of the kids into similar shrieks. I watch as Bethany dangles horizontally by her torso in my husband's strong arm as she weeps into her hands.

I finally turn back to Frances after Daemon leaves the room, "sorry, little bug. Your prince uncle and I have to leave now if we wish to return to our home before dark."

Frances pouts at that. I lean down and kiss the girl's nose before leaving her in the nursery with the rest of the kids and their nannies.

I find Daemon in the hall, handing his weeping niece to her teenage brother, who was biting his lip for dear life, trying to hold back his laughter. He makes sure not to forfeit a dirty look at Thomas, but that does not hinder the giggles that still manage to escape his mouth.

Thomas walks away, carrying his sister in her arms, shushing her as he giggled.

Daemon jolts, hand instinctively reaching out for the absent sword in his belt when I come up to him with a grin. He melts against my touch when my thumbs begin to wipe away the redness on his face.

He pulls me close to him by my waist, hands rubbing my back to soothe me, though he actually does so to soothe himself. I giggle, "you would make a fine father."

"They make me eager to pull out," he notes, closing his eyes.

I lightly slap his cheek in a scolding manner.

I was still not done evening out the color on his face when he pushes past me and crushes me into an exasperated embrace, "I thought once I wanted many children after growing up with only one brother," he strokes my hair as he bends down and nuzzles on my neck, "now I cannot even bare the idea of having one."

I scrunch my face in distaste, "I will not be left childless, husband," I begin to take notice of the paraphernalia in his hair, "but," I decide to tease, "if you will not have me, then I shall ma-"

He squeezes me in his arms, lifting me up, causing me to squeak, "who says I will not have you?"

"My prince," a servant calls, making me crane my neck over to whom spoke.

Daemon begrudedly pulls away, giving the man an uninterested expression with a voice that matches, "yes?"

The prince's face contort tighter in annoyance when the servant's face tenses in reaction to what he saw. I see how his lips fight back laughter and the whole incident make me break into a giggle.

Daemon is wholly unamused, and shows it to the servant boy in particular, "it will hurt no less if I slit your throat in this moment," he barks, stepping forward without hesitation.

The servant flinches back.

I bring my hand up to his chest, giving him an annoyed look, "Daemon please."

He clenches his jaw and grips his hands but does not take another step.

"The boat is ready for you and your lady wife," the servant quickly tells, promptly bowing then rushing away.

"You should have let me bruised him at least," Daemon says scornfully.

I roll my eyes at his pouty face, "come now," I say working on removing the clips in his hair, "we must leave before Bethany sees your hair without her embellishments."

Daemon's brows knit as he looks down on me, "who's Bethany?"

The moment we arrive to our home, I finally feel the effects of entertaining the many members of my house the whole day.

I am unbelievably tired when I finally lie in bed in my favorite night gown. I am in fact too tired to even rise from my place and pull the covers over me.

"Pretty girl," I hear him before I see him. In fact I feel his hand climbing up my thigh before I see his face.

I lift my head up along with a brow as Daemon climbs up next to me only in his breeches. I lick my lips at the sight of his exposed skin and clean face. His mouth meets the skin beneath his hands.

"I thought you were exhausted, husband?"

He only hums as he positions himself between my legs, "never too tired for a good fuck, wife."

I allow my head to fall back on the bed as I laugh. I encourage him to do as he pleases when my hand scratches lightly at the roots of his freshly washed hair. Daemon kisses my supple flesh as he lifts my thighs over his shoulders.

He takes his time teasing me, lips gnawing at my skin. I release a sigh and rest my hands to my side, "you know my sisters were cross that I was not pregnant."

He chuckles, pushing my short skirt up, "I'm sure they were."

I moan when his lips meet my core. My body ignites after this.

I grip at the sheets when I feel his tongue dart out. I let out a breath, basking in the sensation. A thought however lands in my head and I cannot stop from asking it, "do you think perhaps something is a matter?"

Daemon stills, head rising from where it was tucked.

I, myself, rise on my elbows and pout, the expression further concerns the face between my legs. It however fades once I say, "maybe we're doing something wrong when we share company."

Daemon rolls his eyes, "you can just ask me to fuck you harder."

I yelp when his face sinks and he nibbles on my sensitive nub. I moan out his name like gospel, and as much as I don't want it to end, I wriggle in his grasp when I think of something else I need to say.

He uses his strength to force me still, wanting nothing but to devour me. I nearly cave and halt my actions, but I catch his attention when I whine his name out in a plea, "Daemon stop."

He is utterly irritated by this, "what is it now?"

I pout in annoyance, "maybe it's because you're too rough!"

Daemon rolls his eyes yet again.

"Daem-" I whine when his lips begin to move against me again, "think about it!"

Daemon's had enough.

He shoves my legs off him and heaves angrily. I move to sit up and give my husband a cautious look. He however manages to get on his knees and quickly yanks me back down, "shall I give you a lesson, my naïve little wife?"

I purse my lips together as he crawls over me, "I am not naïve. I am only saying that-"

Daemon sighs as he undoes his pants.

"- don't you think I should have been pregnant by now -"

He manages to rip them down while hovering over me.

"- considering how often you bed me?"

He throws his clothes off to the side and pulls my legs apart. We simultaneously moan when he enters me and I bring my hands to his nape, digging my nails into his skin.

Daemon presses a kiss on my lips as he adjusts my legs around him.

I expect him to give me a talking as he pounds into me, but I am only met with stillness and silence. And as much as I love the feeling of him in me like this, I begin to get impatient, "well?"

Daemon chuckles, "I'm teaching you a lesson, wife."

I narrow my eyes at him.

He relishes the deviant expression. He bucks his lips slowly, drawing out a moan from me. Daemon is utterly pleased.

He kisses my neck, hands going to my sides, "if you think my fucking is why you haven't fallen with child-"

I yelp when he quickly spins and rips me over him. I brace myself, hands ending up on his chest. I shift above him, making the both of us groan.

Daemon rubs my arms affectionately, taking in how the loose nightgown wrapped on my body. He fiddles with the lace, "fuck yourself on me then."

For a moment, his words make my belly roll in a wave of hot desire. But something else dawns on me when I see Daemon's hooded eyes. I break into a chuckle, he groans out as a consequence to it, "you're just tired, aren't you?"

His eyes darken. I chuckle yet again. I no longer laugh when he flicks his hips into to me roughly, "fucking move."

I hiss and lean into him, shooting him a glare of my own.

Unappreciative of my disobedience, he grabs my hips and glides me the opposite way of his thrusts, "if you do not move, I'll leave you restless and come all over your pretty face."

I whine at obscene notion.

"You wouldn't want my seed to go to waste, now, would you?" he croons, "don't you want me to get you pregnant?"

I moan as I push myself up and grab on his wrists, following his movements with my own thrusts.

He hisses, melting at my actions. Eventually he is still beneath me as I bounce on him. He praises me for finally listening, "that's it," he exhales, "up and down like a good girl."

I mewl at the sound of his deep voice. He digs at the sides of waist when I quicken my pace. At some point, he is unable too hold back from snapping himself into me. He groans as he does so and I reposition myself, allowing him to reach my sweet spot. I nearly drool when he does. I rip at my lower lip with my teeth and release a guttural sound, "Daemon."

He grunts, "yes, my love." His hands sneak under my dress and rubs my bare skin, "you're doing so good. Such a sweet, pretty girl."

I feel his hands on my belly. I roll my head back when his thumb circles on my wet nub.

His fingers dig into me, "you'll look so pretty carrying my child," he grunts, "mmm, fuck, always so ready for me."

My hands climb to his neck when he says this and I screw my eyes shut focusing on the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.

"Fuck," he drawls, absolutely aroused by the pressure on his throat, "harder," he commands.

Daemon awaits the added pressure but curses when there is none. He calls out my name, making me look down at him. I release a gasp when his hands press down on mine as he repeats, "harder, pretty girl."

I bite my lip and nod, constricting my hands on his throat just a fraction.

It seems to be enough as Daemon releases string of profanities before his hands come back to my hips. He pulls his legs up behind me and fucks into me with a renewed sense of vigor.

My voice bounces the same way my body does. I'm pretty sure I don't even move anymore as Daemon does all the work of slamming into me.

"Fuck, Daemon, don't stop," I whine, as I regain the brain to move against him.

Our own bed whines in distress over actions. The entire room is filled with lewd noises.

It's all a matter of time before it's all over.

I find myself pressing down on him when I come with a loud cry. I release such a breathy shudder that after, I lose my breath. I dig my fingers into his shoulders when I feel him follow after me the next second. I absolutely revel in the heat he burns into me, at the idea I could be carrying his seed soon.

Daemon's hands are ripping roughly at my flesh so hard, I practically feel them bruise. I couldn't care less though.

Yelps and moans continue to leave my lips up until we both crash against each other.

I gasp when I hear Daemon pant heavily after I release him from my grip. He is heaving for literal dear life.

"Daemon, are you alright?" I whine in concern.

He looks lightheaded and yet his lips curve into a smirk, "don't worry, my love, I'm more than alright."

I let out a sight of relief, pressing a kiss on his jaw. I rub my hands onto his face, his own rake my dress up and down my back.

"I do hope I get you pregnant this time," he mutters, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead, "I will not stop until I do." He rubs his cheek against my head, "we should go again for good measure."

I grunt at the thought at maneuver off him.

He growls, pressing a kiss on whatever he could get his lips on, unwilling to release me.

"Daemon," I warn emptily.

"What?" he mutters, finding my neck. He licks my skin before biting down, "you enjoy this."

I moan and push him off, "that's the point! You're tired."

When I'm off him, laying to his side, he chuckles darkly and climbs over me.

"Daemo-"

"I'm never too tired for a good fuck."

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