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foli-vora · 1 year

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once again in your arms

joel miller x f!reader

A/N: mwahah, hello boys i’m baaack (10 points to whoever knows what movie that quote's from). took an unexpected break coz life, but i’m ready to get back on track. this was requested by a beautiful anon a while back (sorry for the wait angel), but i hope you enjoy! x

Request: hello! so this is kinda angsty: joel and the reader are married and have a baby (plus sarah, obviously). the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.

Word count: 4.5k-ish

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, birth and having a baby, domestic fluff, angst, pre and post outbreak, some spoilery things if you haven’t seen the show yet, heartbreak, loss of a child, apocalypse things, i sweat at the idea of caring for a baby during the end of the world, soft reunions, fluff, cameos of my fave oc’s made in a different series

It’s a fact you had learnt in the very early days of your relationship... the Miller men knew how to care for a lady. Whether it was Tommy sliding in to open the door for you before you could reach for the handle, or Joel draping you in blankets and taking on the responsibility of keeping your hot water bottle warm to fend off cramps for the evening, not a moment went by when you didn’t feel the constant reassurance of their care.

Especially now, fresh from the hospital and tender from your days of excruciating pain and an extensively long labour, Tommy quickly slaps the pillows into something plusher, hands gentle as they guide you down until you’re reclining into the armchair.

Joel keeps an eye on you from across the room, the brief wash of concern slipping away with the easy smile that grows along his lips when your eyes meet.

He rocks the wrapped bundle in his arms softly, a big hand dwarfing the small head that peaks from the blankets. His fingers brush through the light smattering of hair peeking out from the cotton burrito, his index running along the tiny peak of a nose and you feel your heart swell in your chest.

“Dad,” Sarah whines with an eager smile, shifting restlessly on the couch, “come on, I’ve been waiting all weekend.”

“Oh my god,” Joel drawls sarcastically, “all weekend? Baby girl, how are you survivin�� right now?”

“Shut up,” her grin widens, “give me my baby brother before I explode.”

“Well, we don’t want that mess all in the livin’ room,” Joel quips, stepping over your weekend bags tossed on the floor and closer to the couch, “ain’t treadin’ your brain all into the rug—thing was damn expensive.”

Sarah shrugs, readjusting her body to sit straighter and holding her arms out expectantly, “Least I have a brain.”

Tommy snorts in amusement, grinning at his brother's expense, “That’s true.”

“Are you still here?” Joel side eyes him, barely fighting the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

They bicker, throwing their little snippy sibling comments back and forth before Sarah clears her throat, her eyebrows rising in impatience.

“Alright, alright. Here, watch his head,” Joel instructs gently, a smile playing along his lips, “that’s it, baby, you got him.”

It’s a beautiful picture, Sarah carefully bringing the baby closer and tucking him carefully into her arms, and the sentiment is shared with Tommy as the flash and click of a camera goes off. He removes the polaroid sliding from the slot and sits it on the coffee table to develop before instructing Joel to slide in next to her and smile.

Both Joel and Sarah are oblivious to his instruction, lost in the bubble that has overcome them. You find peace watching them, warmth spreading along your limbs by the sweet tenderness of it all. The love is clear between the three of them cuddled on the couch, and it’s almost too much for your heart to bear.

Sarah beams down at her baby brother, cooing soft words and stroking a gentle finger down Matthew’s cheek. Joel throws an arm to rest on the top of the couch behind Sarah, turning into her and answering her questions quietly.

8 pounds, 3 ounces. Smaller than you. No, he didn’t cry at all—gave me and the docs a damn heart attack. She sure did a great job.

Your Joel was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the emotion shines from his eyes, bleeds through the lines in his face and it’s enough to bring tears building along your lash line.

“You okay over there?”

His familiar drawl brings your attention to him, and you smile at him, tired and fully at peace. It’s bliss, despite the ache of birth still hanging in your limbs. M

“I’m fine,” you respond quietly, lids heavy with exhaustion, “I’m just so happy.”

He fucking beams. His grin creases his cheeks and he nods softly.

“Me too, honey,” he mutters, turning his attention back to his children and playing with a strand of Sarah’s hair as he gazes down at Matthew, “me too.”

—

Four months later.

Chaos.

Matthew wails against your chest, the deafening sounds of screams, bullets, sirens and explosions setting him off into hysterics. Your arms tighten around him, keeping his face tucked closely into your throat so your scent could hopefully provide him some reassurance.

You crouch beside cars, you run until your legs ache. You take cover in stores, the soles of your shoes crunching over broken glass of the shattered windows. Every phone you try gives nothing but a dull tone. Radios are filled with static and emergency broadcasts play on the view screens you run past in your effort to escape whatever the hell is happening.

Worry stirs along the edges of your mind. Is Joel okay? Sarah? Tommy? You can’t call him, you can only run and hope nothing takes you down in your effort to get back to your car. You pass people crouched over others, blood smearing along their lips as they tear unforgivingly into the flesh of another.

It’s a nightmare, and it’s everywhere you look.

Almost there.

You see the sign of the parking lot and it only makes you run that much faster, even though your legs threaten to give out at any minute. You pass an elderly man crouching beside a woman, blood flowing from the open gash on her throat, and the ache clutching your heart only increases when his pleas reach your ears over the mayhem.

“Gloria,” he mutters in an aged rasp, “up you get, love. You’re alright, come on now—”

You can’t help it.

Somewhere in your mind you can feel Joel screaming at you to keep running, to get yourself to safety and not give a damn about anyone other than Matthew, but the image of this man cradling his wife’s wrinkled, bloodied hand is enough to get you advancing to him before anyone could hurt him.

“Sir—”

He ignores you, too busy with brushing the woman’s blood soaked white hair from her face.

“Sir, we have to move—”

You wrap your fingers around his shoulder and shake firmly. His head gives a shake of denial as he clutches his wife’s hand tighter.

“No… no, she’ll need help—she has a bad ankle.”

Shifting Matthew unsteadily onto your hip, your fingers wrap under his arm and tug him onto his feet. He fights you, bats your hold away with an infuriated expression at your rough handling of him.

“I’m so sorry, but she’s gone—we have to run. I—I have a car, please… just come with me, please!”

“I won’t leave her—”

“Please… they’re coming! I—would she want this for you? To die like this?”

He blinks, his frown softening ever so slightly before screams pierce the air, much closer than you anticipated, and terror claws up your throat until you feel you’ll vomit.

You hold out a hand, relieved when his own rough, calloused hand finally takes it, and then you’re running, albeit slower than before, but you make it to your car with no issues.

You dive into the driver's seat, passing Matthew over to the stranger when he makes an impatient gesture to hold him and then you’re tearing out of the lot, running down the few rabid looking beings that advance on you with bloodied expressions of hunger.

You don’t think you take a proper breath until you’re past a military barricade that had seemingly been destroyed in the attack, flying down the highway and around other panicked drivers with sweat slicking your skin.

Taking a deep breath to slow the brutal pounding of your heart, you look at Matthew, now calmed and looking up at the stranger with an obvious shine of curiosity. The old man is clearly softened by the baby, letting his small hand wrap around his finger and wiggling it playfully in his hold.

“That’s Matthew,” you mutter shakily, meeting the eyes of the elderly man before gazing back out the windscreen. You take another breath before giving your own name, tears biting at your eyes when you utter the name Miller.

Do you still have a husband? A step daughter? A brother in law? The unknown scares you, outright fucking terrifies you.

The man nods in your peripheral vision.

“Harold,” he finally says, voice rough and tired.

—

There are people everywhere, screaming, crying.

People run, shout, wail over family and friends.

Tears have long dried on his face, his head thumping relentlessly with the remnants of his heartbreak. Tommy’s grip is firm on him, tugging him out of the way of people tearing down in their direction, pulling him to where a makeshift table is thrust under a tent as a reception of sorts.

He doesn’t care about the people already there asking about their family and friends. He shoves them out of the way, hands shaking as they clutch the edge of the weak table.

“I’m lookin’ for a woman… she’d be with a baby boy, not even four months old—”

His voice shakes. He can’t get it to stop. He struggles to get out the detailed descriptions of you both down to the clothes you were wearing, speaking your names through trembling lips. His stomach jolts at the thought of you somewhere, lying helplessly on the floor with your flesh getting torn into while Matthew screams in his car seat.

He’s a damn baby. He wouldn’t know what’s happening, wouldn’t know why his mama’s not there with him—

The woman gives a small expression of sympathy over the thin surgical mask covering her mouth, “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve had no babies that young come through, and nothing like that has come in over the radios.”

He retches.

His body heaves, almost as if it’s rejecting the mere idea that you weren’t somewhere safe waiting for him. He had failed. Failed to keep Sarah safe, failed to keep Matthew safe, you—the vows he had made now meant shit. He hadn’t been there for better or worse. He’d hadn’t done what a father should have and kept his kids free from harm.

Sarah had died, terrified and in agony, in his hold. Her bloodied handprints remain dry and caked on his arms. Matthew had died, not even making it to six months. A baby, still fresh to the world, only just able to hold his own head up. You had died, not knowing where he and Sarah were, if they were even safe.

Tommy hauls him to a close trash can, rubbing a firm hand up and down his back as he chokes on vomit, tears soon streaming down his cheeks when his body eventually has nothing left to give. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering against his ribs and filling his ears until he’s unaware of the noises around him.

“They’re gone,” he whispers hoarsely, clutching at the rim of the trash can in an effort to keep himself up.

“Now we don’t know that—”

“God damn it, Tommy, you saw what it was like out there!”

Tommy sighs, his own eyes filling with tears. “We gotta keep hope, Joel—”

“Hope?” Joel spits at his brother, “What good is hope against that shit out there? She would’ve been alone, you know as well as I Matthew only would’ve slowed her down. They were in the city. We couldn’t even keep safe out here! They’re—they’re gone. My wife… my baby boy, my baby girl—”

The sobs tear from his chest, harsh and painful. He mourns for hours, unseeing of the flurried movement still happening around him, his sorrow mixing with the flood of agony filling the makeshift safe zone with every new unhurt civilian looking for someone familiar.

Tommy doesn’t take his arms away from around his brother until dawn starts to pierce the horizon,

—

Two years later.

He still fills your thoughts daily.

Your life, your old life, would flash behind your eyelids at night when sleep would finally claim you. You’d feel his touch, kiss his lips, touch his face. It all felt so normal. The dreams would be nothing but memories, and somehow, it made them feel more like nightmares.

Mornings making breakfast with Sarah, dancing to the music falling from the radio. Family game nights, watching Tommy and Joel get more and more competitive with each game. Grocery shopping with Joel, simply wandering down the aisles and relishing in his comforting touch warming your lower back.

You could never quite make peace with the possibility that he was dead. It didn’t sit right. The idea that your Joel had been lost to the disaster that had claimed the world just seemed impossible. Your heart rejected the notion, refused to accept that its counterpart wasn’t somewhere out there, living, breathing, surviving,

Sarah and Tommy, too.

They had to be somewhere, holed up safely and keeping well. They had to.

“They’ve established a quarantine zone close by,” you say quietly, mindful of Matthew sleeping on your lap, “it’ll be a lot safer there than out here. I think we should give it a go… find a more secure place to live. I’ve heard they have work available, good flow of food and medicine…”

Harry snorts quietly, shifting under his old, thick jacket, “That doesn’t mean they’re happy giving it out. There’ll be a catch somewhere.”

You eye the long carved frown in his features and lean forward to fix the blanket covering his tired legs, “Don’t you think we should try at least?”

“Maybe they’ll put a bullet in me,” Harry grumbles moodily, “I’m old—I can’t work like they’ll want me to. Although, it’ll beat living through this bloody nightmare any longer.”

“Harold,” you chide softly, heart aching at the thought of losing the grumpy old man after spending so long by his side.

He’d quickly become a grandfather figure of sorts, to both you and Matthew. The little boy was obsessed with him, and had been since the day you had come together, and though he tried to hide it behind his usual icy facade, Harry was smitten, weak from the boy learning to call him pa.

“He’ll be safer in there,” Harry finally grumbles, gazing at the sleeping toddler. “This is no life for him out here. It’s getting worse and worse. Stability will do him good.”

“And you’ll come with us?”

He sighs sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine—I’ll come. But if they don’t kill me, I’ll be bloody upset with you.”

You snort in amusement, a grin curling your lips. “Fair enough. Now drink your soup.”

“I’m not hungry. You have it.”

He shoves it away, pushing it in your direction, as he usually does. It’s a daily fight—him refusing food in favour of giving you and Matthew more, ensuring you both never went hungry despite his own hunger and rapid weight loss due to the sudden lack of food.

You give him a playful frown and hold the small cup out to him.

“Don’t make me force feed you, old man, drink it.”

—

The walls of the Quarantine Zone are a lot more daunting than you had originally thought they would be. They tower high, and the barely there movement of soldiers along the front and top of it have nerves start to build in the pit of your stomach.

Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Surely they wouldn’t shoot without asking questions? Would they even give you a chance? What happens to you if the zone is full? Would they let you go on your merry little way?

God, you feel sick.

The ice creeping along your skin doubles, and you tighten your grip on the baby carrier strapped to your chest. Matthew hums quietly against your back, his little fingers tracing random patterns along your shirt as he bounces with your each step. Harry walks somewhat steadily beside you, his cheeks reddening with the more distance you cover.

He gives you a reassuring nod when you look to him for guidance, and you continue forward, swallowing the lump building in your throat when you become aware of them yelling about your presence.

Their guns are raised when you eventually make it closer, and it’s automatic to throw your hands up in surrender.

“We’re not infected!” you shout, hoping they’d listen.

A soldier steps forward. “On the ground, now!”

“Shit. Okay! Please, I—we’re not infected—”

“Get. On. The. Ground!”

“I have a kid! I have a—please, we’re not—”

“Get the kid out.”

Panic flares to life in your chest. You fight the tremble in your fingers as they raise to the clip across your chest, winding a supportive hand around to your back to keep Matthew from falling out of the carrier as it loosens from your torso.

After a bit of shifting, Matthew stands on shaky legs, his eyes darting between you and the few soldiers with their weapons raised.

“It’s okay, baby,” you soothe softly, “we gotta do what the man says, okay? Can you do that for mama?”

You continue to lower until your front hits the rubble covered ground, and you motion for Matthew to do the same, heart breaking as he cowers in fear and falls to his knees before copying your posture and hiding his face against the road.

More voices fill your ears, the obvious presence of more soldiers swarming from the gate causing your pulse to skyrocket as Harry lowers on the other side of the small toddler.

“Check ‘em.”

“Everything’s fine,” you murmur, keeping your gaze on Matthew and smiling when he peeks at you from between his fingers, “we’re okay. Keep your eyes on me, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

It stings.

You automatically flinch away from the device someone holds at your neck, freezing when more weapons are raised in your direction. The device gives a small beep and the soldier gives a loud clear, before moving for Matthew.

He cries out at the pain, his chest heaving with his growing sobs. The guns move in his direction and you’re flying towards him before you can even think, yelping when arms pull you away from your baby before you can console him. His screams worsen.

“Please,” you beg, “he’s just a baby—!”

The soldiers remain emotionless.

Another beep, another clear.

The fingers digging into your arms loosen and then you’re free, hurriedly crawling on all fours until Matthew’s in your arms, his tear stricken face pressing into your throat. You soothe him softly, murmuring how well he did and that he’s safe with you while the soldiers move their attention to Harry.

When the device gives a final clear, another soldier steps forward, a small smile stretching his lips.

“Sorry about that,” he says, stepping forward until he’s only a step away, “but we can’t be too careful.”

It’s surreal being around people again.

For the longest time, it’s just been you, Matthew and Harry. The people left after the event had turned cruel, desperate for any remaining resources and resulting to violence left, right and centre. It’d been sheer luck that you three had escaped some of the nastier characters you’d come across during your treks. Sure, you’d lost a few supplies every now and then, but you were thankful you all were still here at least.

The man leads you into an office of sorts, with rusted old chairs to sit on while he goes about ‘registering’ you. You’re surprised at the process of it all, confused when he says you’re in luck because after this morning, there are new rooms available. What does that mean? Had something happened to the occupants?

Your stomach turns, but you dare not dwell on it.

Safety for Matthew, that’s all that matters. That’s why you’re here.

It feels like hours before you’re stepping into the sun again, lead out onto a relatively normal looking street with written directions to your new accommodation. The door bangs loudly behind you, fully closing you from the horrors of the outside world, and you try not to focus on the looks of curiosity, borderline hostility, as you start to walk further into the QZ, the height of the wall casting a large shadow over your path.

There’s a main square of sorts, filled with small stations of people selling various items. Your stomach grumbles at the sight of shitty looking food, desperate to eat something other than the random old bits and pieces you’d find through your looting, but you’d have to begin work to even afford a single half burnt bread roll. The two ration cards you had received at your ‘registration’ wouldn’t make a dent in what you’d need to afford any of it.

You pass the sellers, sharing a sullen look with Harry as he too realises he wouldn’t have enough for any of it.

There’s crowds, and you try to keep to yourself as you move, but something catches your eye, as if your sight had been automatically pulled to that direction and you’re oblivious to the people bumping into your frame.

For a moment, you’re sure you’re dreaming.

Did they end up shooting you at the gate? This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be unfolding right before your very eyes. You feel alive. You feel your pulse, your breath. You feel Matthew shift in the carrier, you hear Harry making comments about the people and the surrounding buildings.

You can’t look away.

You’re pulled in his direction, certain with every bone in your body that it’s him. It’s him.

The man turns, and his eyes are meeting yours through the crowds before you can even brace for it, and you see the moment it hits him.

He freezes, his eyes unblinking as if they don’t want to risk losing the hallucination his mind had conjured. He steps forward, and again, and again, slow in his movements, cautious.

“Joel?” You breathe, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the bustle of your surroundings and the distance between you, but he must see your lips mould his name because then he’s running, ducking through the people and heading straight your way.

You start to jog, careful not to disturb the carrier holding Matthew too much, and then he’s there. He’s there and he’s real and he’s saying your name so sweetly, a broken rasp of disbelief and a tremble taking over his hands as they raise to cup your cheeks.

You sob at his touch.

The tears flow from your eyes and you grasp at whatever you can on him, your fingers tightening around the jacket hanging from his frame as you attempt to pour two years of loss into your embrace. He cradles the back of your head, keeps your face pressed tightly against the dirtied skin of his throat as he mutters brokenly about how he thought you were dead and that he’d missed you so damn much.

“Oh baby boy,” he rumbles, noticing the baby carrier and the toddler within it with tears filling his lash line, “look at you.”

You hurriedly unclip the harness and sweep Matthew out of it, bringing him into the middle of your embrace. Joel runs a hand along Matthew’s cheek before sweeping down and kissing him on the forehead, his tears dropping over the toddler’s cheeks in obvious relief and utter joy.

“How—”

You shake your head, nuzzling into the rough hand holding your cheek. “Later. We’ll talk later about everything, I just—god, I’ve missed you so fucking much, Joel.”

His head lowers until his forehead is pressed against yours, and his eyes flutter closed. You feel it in the simple gesture, how much he had missed you, mourned for you. He gives a small nod, followed by a quiet okay, before another presence suddenly makes themselves known.

Your body jolts with the weight hitting your side, and you jump in fright before your eyes come across a slightly skinny looking Australian Shepherd desperate for attention.

His tongue lolls from his mouth as he attempts to lap at your cheek, and you chuckle through your stream of steady flowing tears at the cheerful dog.

“Chip,” Joel grunts in slight annoyance, shoving the fluffy beast away from where he tries to jump and sniff at Matthew’s cheeks, “down—down, boy!”

“You have a dog?” You ask in curiosity, reaching out to pet the animal. Your smile widens when he eagerly nuzzles into your touch with an excited whine.

“He was wanderin’ the QZ when I came in,” Joel replies, one of his hands leaving your waist to deliver a rough rub to the dogs head, “followed me home one night and hasn’t stopped botherin’ me since. Tommy said he’d be good for me.”

“Tommy’s here? And Sarah?” You perk immediately in excitement, your eyes flying past his shoulder to look for his brother and the other part of your heart that’s been missing for years. “I’m so glad they’re alright, where are they?”

You don’t notice how considerably quiet he’s gone until you look at him. He’s defeated, guarded, his dark eyes drawn to the floor. He can’t look at you. Why can’t he look at you? What’s happened?

“Joel?”

“Sarah… she—she—”

He struggles to finish the sentence, the words stick uncomfortably on his tongue. His features twist in clear anguish and you feel the world around you shatter. Sarah, she… she’s gone? When? How?

Your heart sinks, weak and broken by the unexpected news. Your mind struggles to wrap itself around the notion that you’d never see her again, that the last time you saw her was truly the last.

Regret begins to build in the pit of your stomach. That last day… you should’ve hugged her tighter, kissed her forehead, told her how much she meant to you and how lucky you were to be in her life—

The tears begin again.

“Oh Joel, I-I’m so sorry,”

You both share the heartache, wrapped in each other's arms and breathing in the other. His tight hold doesn’t loosen for a second, and you attempt to put every ounce of energy in your tired body into returning it.

The world stands still, just like it did that cursed day.

How can you be so elated that he’s here, and yet be filled with so much pain at the same time? How long has he been lost, no doubt blaming himself for his baby girl not making it to where he is now? You mourn her, mourn him for being lost, stuck on a path of despair and believing he had lost everything for so long.

What had become of him? What had the pain done to him? Surely it would’ve been pure torture for the man who practically breathed family.

Harry can wait. Introductions can wait. Food, drink, sleep—you care for none of it. Not now. All that matters is that Joel is here, truly here in the flesh, wrapped in your arms and holding the child he hasn’t seen for two years. All that matters is that you had found one another in the violent hellscape the world had become.

Peace, but that tranquillity will forever be tainted by loss, a void hanging in the midst of relief, never to be filled again.

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tags that have continuously not worked will be deleted from my taglist soon x

#joel miller x reader #joel miller f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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randomshyperson · 6 months

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Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap. | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful. In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner.

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure."

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?"

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection."

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you.

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first.

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel.

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around.

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization.

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me."

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up."

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you."

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart."

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose." You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice."

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way.

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment.

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks.

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious.

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority.

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear."

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?"

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces.

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order:

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face.

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath.

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down.

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot.

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck.

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her.

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

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miupow · 2 months

Text

[duality.] ─── ⋆ h. kai

an unexpected discovery about a friend sends you spiraling-- sure, hueningkai was cute, but he wasn't your type. at least, you thought he wasn't.

✩ pairing. huening kai x fem!reader

✩ words. 10k

✩ warnings. nsfw, mdnfi! smut with plot, f2l, graphic depictions of bdsm/rough sex, hard dom!kai, sub!reader, fem!reader, swearing, explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking, jealousy, wingman tyun and roommate yeonjun, gags, blindfolds, bondage, handcuffs, spanking, paddles, protected sex, manhandling, dry humping, sir kink, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, degradation, degredation/name calling, jake from enhpyen cameo, possible dubcon elements, possessive behavior, nipple play, breath play/choking, cute ending hehe

✩ a/n. here it is!! duality, all three parts put together into one big oneshot!! i've been putting off finishing this fic for the longest time which is so criminal of me i know... i hope this makes up for it ♡ feedback in the forms of comments and reblogs are always appreciated! this is not proofread! please lmk if there are any mistakes!

You don't remember when Friday night get-togethers became "let's all listen to Beomgyu complain" get-togethers, but you could hardly complain-- hearing about your friend's failed attempts at wooing his coworker made you feel infinitely better about your own love life.

"I just don't get it," Beomgyu sighs deeply, swishing his beer around like he was debating on some deep philisophical theory. He was squished into the side of Taehyun's too-small couch, legs hanging off of the armrest and head awkwardly lying on Soobin's broad shoulder. "I'm hilarious and I'm smoking hot-- why is it so hard for me to find a girlfriend?!"

"That's because you're a loser." Your roommate, Yeonjun snorted. He was splayed out on the other end of the couch, effortlessly beating Soobin, Beomgyu and Hueningkai in Mario Kart, legs manspread so wide Taehyun (who was squished against Soobin's other side) looked about ready to hit him.

"I don't know, have you tried asking her out instead of following her around like a creep? She probably thinks you're stalking her." Taehyun snickered, very engrossed in his phone. You could see him trying to close Yeonjun's legs with his knee. It was not working.

"Also, you have no game." Soobin added, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he concentrated on the game. You were fairly sure part of the reason why he was losing so badly was because both of his arms were constricted to his sides. "Absolutely zero rizz, dude."

"Zero rizz," Hueningkai echoed with a giggle. Forever the smart and resourceful one, he chose to sit cross-legged on the carpet instead of squeezing himself on the couch-- you followed suit, not wanting to be in a sweaty sandwich with your roommate and his buddies. "I bet you haven't even said a word to her."

you sat with Kai near Yeonjun's legs, head propped up on the front of the couch as you snacked on popcorn. Hueningkai successfuly threw a blue shell at Yeonjun's kart-- your roommate's legs kicked out sharply, almost hitting you square in the head, and he let out a sharp "FUCK!"

"I have!" Beomgyu defended, sounding very much like a petulant child. "I talk to her all of the time! I asked her for her number, I made her a spotify playlist, I walk her to her car every night after our shifts--"

"None of that is asking her out though, hyung." Taehyun still hasn't looked up from his phone. "Did she give you her number?"

"No!" Beomgyu whined loudly, making everyone wince. "She said I haven't earned it yet!"

"It sounds like she's playing hard to get, maybe? Girls like it when guys pine." You supply, talking instead of listening for the first time in a while. You loved Beomgyu like a brother, and while it was funny to listen to his failed flirting you did want him to actually, you know, be happy. Plus he seemed to care about this girl beyond what her cupsize was, which was a pretty big deal for Beomgyu.

"More like she wants him to leave her alone." Hueningkai snickered back. “Hyung, I’ve not seen you this down bad since, like, grade school.”

“At least he’s not filling us in on his latest hookup,” Soobin shrugged, or at least tried to-- Beomgyu was now purposefully sitting on him. “Beomgyu might be a simp but I honestly see this as an improvement.”

“I’m not a fucking simp!” Beomgyu squawked, feigning hitting Soobin over the head with his controller. “I at least get more pussy than you losers— when was the last time Kai managed to bag a girl without her running away screaming first?”

The boys all laughed-- even Taehyun, which was weird--as if Beomgyu had made a joke that made sense. Kai? Scaring away girls? You’ve known him for years now, him being Yeonjun's friend and all, and while you didn't know him inside and out you were fairly sure he still slept with stuffed animals. Jesus, last time you had come over his only priority was showing off his Gundam.

“I think Kai would be the one running away screaming, honestly,” you laugh, expecting the others to follow, but you were quickly met with awkward silence. The boys all looked at you oddly, especially Beomgyu, who looked both deeply betrayed and like he had just gained some arcane secret. “…What? This is Huening we’re talking about, come on.”

“Yeah, Huening.” Beomgyu started, looking at you like you had grown an extra head. “It's always over when he starts going Fifty Shades on them."

"He starts going what?!" You sat up very suddenly, whipping your head around to stare at Hueningkai incredulously-- he was refusing to look at you, starting very intently at the TV screen, even though the game had ended minutes ago. The tips of his ears were cherry red. "You start going what?!"

"Oh my God, she doesn't know!" Yeonjun cackled madly, turning to look incredulously at Taehyun, who looked back with a wild grin. "She doesn't know!"

"I don't know what?" You felt a little betrayed by Taehyun, you had to be honest-- if anyone would have kept their head on, it would have been him. "Kai, what are they talking about?"

Kai was still refusing to make eye contact with you, instead glaring sharp daggers at his friends-- he genuinely looked angry, which was an emotion you weren't used to seeing on Hueningkai. "Don't worry about it, they're being dicks--"

"Hueningie likes to beat girls!" Beomgyu sang, his cute corner dimples popping out in his delighted, evil smile and making him look absolutely devilish. "He likes to treat girls like sluts!"

Kai was very very silent and worryingly still, nearly burning holes in the carpet with his stare. You furrowed your brow, blanched— that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting from him at all.

"There's no way you have no idea, Y/N, I mean-- you're joking, right? You've known him for forever now." Soobin cut in, looking genuinely confused.

"You've been in his room! Like, a thousand times!" Yeonjun laughed. "He's so fucking bad about putting all of his gross shit away-- once I saw handcuffs still attached to the headboard!"

You blinked.

This had to be some sort of joke. They were fucking with you, they had to be. "Are you trying to tell me that Hueningkai, OUR Hueningkai, is-- no he's not?! Have you met him? He collects Squishmallows!"

"You haven't looked under his bed yet, then." Taehyun snickered, once again on his phone-- you spluttered, both at his words and his nonchalance. Kai was still eerily silent.

"You've got to be joking. This is a joke. I don't think Kai's seen a pair of boobs in his life--"

"I’m not a virgin, you know." Hueningkai muttered stiffly, looking at you for the first time in a while. The residual anger he had for his friends lingered on his blushing, usually lax face, staring you down with an intensity you didn't think he could muster-- your stomach flipped hard, nearly having you recoil under his stare.

It took you an embarrassing second to register what he even said. "Oh. Um--"

"I'm not some fucking loser." Hueningkai repeated, voice calm but deep, deep dark, and it hit you quite suddenly that he was actually upset with you, not his friends. You had never heard Kai swear before. "Is it really that hard for you to believe? You don't know me.“

“Um, I—“ you spluttered, opening and closing your mouth like a fish.

“It’s like you think I'm some spineless, bitchless nerd or something-- it pisses me off, honestly, and I'm getting really fucking sick of it."

You were unable to choke out any words at all as Hueningkai pulled himself up sharply from the floor and stomped away into his room-- It was awkwardly silent for a few deeply conflicting moments, but Beomgyu was quick to pick back up the laughter.

"Someone's mad! Better watch out, Y/N, Hueningie might punish you for that!"

“Are you a slut?” Hueningkai hisses, big hand palming your bare ass– you whimper around your gag, tug at the restraints that bind your arms behind your back. “Is that what you are? All you can think about is getting cock, huh?”

Tears were starting to soak the silk of your blindfold, sticking wet and cold to your skin– you had never felt this raw and desperate in your life. “No!” you try to say, but it comes out a muffled whine.

Huening leans in close, hot breath caressing your ear, fabric of his shirt ghosting your back; his grip on your asscheek tightens, fingers digging into the flesh. “I’m sorry baby, didn’t hear you. What was that?”

“I’m not a slut!” you try again, shaking your head wildly, slurred words incomprehensible– drool ran down your chin and neck, dripped onto the bedsheets beneath you, and moving your mouth to speak only made more spill out. You felt disgusting, pathetic, humliated beyond belief… and your wet cunt ached.

“No?” Kai coos, the palm gripping your ass trailing down between your thighs. His fingertips brushed softly against your fluttering folds– the first real touch to your neglected pussy. You sob around the gag. It was nowhere near enough. “Then why are you so wet right now? I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. You want me to fuck you that bad, huh baby?”

And you wake up before you can answer.

“This is about Huening, isn’t it.” Taehyun states plainly when he answers your call. For a split second, you wished he was less reliable about picking up the phone.

“I haven’t even said anything,” you whine, a little petulant even to your own ears. Taehyun had always been able to read you like a book, read everyone like a book, and it never failed to piss you off and embarrass you.

“You never call me unless it’s about your problems.”

Oh. Well. You suppose that’s true. He was just such a great listener.

“He’s not a problem, I’m just– is he in the room with you right now?”

You can hear Taehyun’s eyeroll reverberate through his sigh. “He’s at class. If you’re calling to apologize, I can leave a message.”

You scoff. “Apologize for what?! I didn’t do anything!”

“I think you hurt his feelings. He hasn’t left his room all week except to go to his classes.” Taehyun sounded more amused than anything else. “You should at least tell him you’re sorry for emasculating him.”

“Emasculating him?!” And this was why you didn’t go to Taehyun when it came to problems involving his own friends. “He’s the one being a big baby about it! How was I supposed to know you guys weren’t joking? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Tell you what, that Kai’s a freak? We thought you knew. Plus, it’s not like it’s even that big of a deal. You’re both just being weird about it.”

“I’m not being weird about it!” You retort. “I’m just, like– how long have you known?”

Taehyun was quiet for a very long, uncomfortable moment. “Y/N, if you’re about to quiz me on my roommate’s sex life, I will hang up on you.”

“I’m not, I’m not!” You’re glad you’re curled up in bed and not out in public; you’d hate anyone to see you this flustered just over the phone. “I’m just confused on how it was apparently ’so obvious’ and I completely missed it.”

“That’s because he’d been trying to hide it from you. He’s just been doing a shit job– thought you figured it out anyway.”

You blink. “He’s… what? Why?”

Taehyun makes a noise like he’s sucking at his teeth, staticky over the phone. You briefly wonder if he’s actually going to hang up on you. “I promised Kai I wouldn’t tell you this.”

“Tell me what?!” You press with a hiss, grasping your phone harder in your hand– you were getting really sick and tired of everyone beating around the bush with you, like you hadn’t already learned more about Kai in the last few days than you had in the last few years. “Tyun, if it involves me, I think I deserve to know.”

Taehyun hesitates for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh, deep and weighted like some veteran soldier. You want to laugh, really, but you’re too on edge to do much more than hang onto every word Taehyun says. “Kai’s gonna kill me for this.”

“I don’t care. Spill.”

“He’s… interested in you. Has been since he met you, I think. He was playing up that annoying good boy act ‘cos he didn’t want to ’scare you away.’”

You let out a breath like it had been knocked out of you with a fist, head spinning wildly. Kai was always so sweet and polite, got you gifts, made sure you always felt appreciated and included… but he had never given you the impression that he was into you. He was just like that with everyone.

But now that you thought about it…

Those smiles he seemed to save just for you, adorable and ecstatic like you had completed some insurmountable task for him instead of just getting him a candy bar or a glass of water, the gentlest ’thank you so much'es that made your tummy flip in the best way. Pretty brown eyes wide and sparkling every time he looked at you– he would always furiously turn away like he didn’t want you to catch him staring.

You caught him staring quite a lot. You always assumed you must have had something on your face.

Sweet Hyuka who told you you looked pretty even when you knew you didn’t, stepping into his and Taehyun’s apartment in pajamas because Yeonjun hadn’t told you it was movie night until he was getting ready to leave. Hyuka who would give up his seat so you could sit on the couch. Hyuka who was always the first to stand up for you if one of the other boys made a snide joke in your expense. Hyuka who hugged you first before he addressed anyone else. Hyuka who would sometimes only come out of his room if he was told that you were there. You always thought that Hyuka was a great friend.

Suddenly, the other night made a lot more sense. Just as suddenly, you also felt very, very guilty.

“Oh.” You whisper into the phone, because it had hit you that you hadn’t said anything for quite some time.

“Yeah, 'oh.’ Now he thinks you think he’s a gross pervert.” Taehyun snickers. He’s enjoying your plight far too much.

“I don’t think that.” you retort softly, a little sad.

“You should tell him that, not me.”

“How am I supposed to tell him anything if he won’t pick up the phone?!”

Taehyun’s quiet again, like he’s thinking. “Listen, Yeonjun’s taking us out for drinks Friday to celebrate Kai passing his midterms. I think he’s trying to cheer him up. Ask him to come with; you can talk to Kai then.”

“…Would Kai even want me there?” You ask.

“Probably not, to be honest. Doesn’t matter though, he’s not the one paying, he can go cry about it. Plus, I think hyung was gonna bring you anyway– he thinks this entire thing is hilarious.”

You hesitate for a moment. Not only foes this have bad idea written all over it, you also don’t have anything to wear. “Promise you’ll get me out of there if things get nasty?”

“How would things get nasty?” Taehyun laughs. “The most Kai would do is whine that he wants to go home.”

You should have stayed home.

Taehyun was right– when you brought up the club to Yeonjun, he had enthusiastically mentioned that he was, in fact, going to ask you to come with, and that he was very happy to hear you agree to go. Maybe that should have been your warning.

Huening hadn’t so much as looked to you the entire night. You spotted him immediately when you had stepped into the building, platinum blond hair and an oversized grey hoodie tucked awkwardly into a corner booth, big frame shrunk in on itself like he was trying to come off as small as he possibly could. You felt bad for him, really, watching him stare surly into the same drink he had been nursing the entire night– Kai hates clubs, yet the other boys kept insisting on celebrating with drinks and dancing instead of something Kai would actually enjoy, like a movie. You’re fairly sure Kai was already aware that the night wasn’t really about him and his test scores.

On top of the awkward atmosphere, you feel naked in this dress. You borrowed it from a friend, since you had nothing nice to wear— it was cute, but backless and low cut, and not to mention about two sizes too small. You were afraid to take large breaths, lest your breasts fall out of the top entirely.

You think you caught Huening staring from the booth as you sat at the bar with Yeonjun, but it might just have been wishful thinking.

“Just go up and talk to him,” Yeonjun suggests between swigs of his beer. He keeps looking over his shoulder at the dancefloor like he’s hunting for something— most likely a girl to take home with him.

“And what, grovel for his forgiveness? He looks like he wants to kill me.” you grumble around your own glass, half-hoping the liquor would at least spark some confidence. You felt the opposite of confident, in your stupid tight dress, scared of approaching a boy that professed his undying love for Molang on the daily.

“Maybe he just wants to fuck you. You look hot.” Yeonjun snickers, glancing quickly over at Kai’s booth— from the annoying grin on his face, you can only assume Huening is looking your way. “Go over there and tell him you’ll suck his dick if he’ll forgive you.”

“You’re gross.”

“You love me.” Yeonjun sneaks another look at the dancefloor; it seems he’s locked in on a target. “Gotta bounce. Yell if you need me to come and save you.”

“I don’t want your saving,” you retort snidely as he slid his way through the crowd.

You didn’t have any time to relish in your solitude, barely able to even take another sad sip of your cocktail— an unfamiliar body fills Yeonjun’s empty barstool in what felt like an instant, big mouth grinning like he’d been waiting for a while.

You suppose the eyes that you had felt on you hadn’t been Kai’s after all. Yeonjun’s grins could be decieving.

He orders a beer from the bartender, pretty yet odd accent slurring his words— you weren’t sure where it was from, but you sure did like it. “And another of whatever she’s drinking.” he adds, shooting a grin your way.

“Oh no, I’m alright—” you attempt to shut him down, but your voice wavers. He waves you off with a sweet laugh.

“It’s on me, baby. You look like you need it.”

You laugh nervously. You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be a diss or not, even including the petname. “Oh, do I?”

“You look stressed. Something got you down?”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. You’re not sure how to respond to any of this, really. Flirting wasn’t really your forte. “Just a little.”

The bartender puts down both of your drinks at once— your handsome new friend pushes yours your way, and you take it gratefully. This isn’t exactly how you wanted your night to go, but this man was hot, free drinks were free drinks, and maybe going home with someone new was a better outcome for your night than moping around alone and having to listen to your roommate get his dick wet. “Did some asshole abandon you over here? You’re far too pretty to be sitting here all sad and alone.” Your stranger croons, eyes heavy as they rake down your body, take in your dress. You squirm under his gaze. “My name’s Jake. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” You don’t bother addressing his earlier comment; the idea of talking about your boy problems to this very handsome boy made your skin crawl. “I like your accent, where are you from?”

“Brisbane.” Jake gave you another pretty, blinding grin. He had a very big mouth with very white teeth.

“…Pardon?”

“Australia.” Jake laughs. “I’m an Aussie. I was born here though.”

“Oh, I see! Are you here just to visit or do you live here? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, of course—“

“No worries, pretty girl.” He needed to stop with the petnames before you climbed him like a tree. “I live here for right now. Do you want another one of those?”

“Hm?” You looked down at your glass. You hadn’t even noticed that it was empty, just mindlessly holding it up against your lips while you latched on to every word Jake said. “Oh! Um. I’m okay, thank you!”

Jake seems displeased with your answer. You wonder briefly if he was just trying to get you drunk. It was working. “You sure? You’re still lookin’ a little sad there, baby.”

“I’m–”

“She said she’s fine.”

A big hand grabs your arm without much warning, making you squeak out loud— you whip your head back fast, ready to fight, but quickly freeze at the sight of Huening towering over you with a dark but unreadable expression. His grip was bordering on painful.

“Excuse me?” Jake retorts, face screwed up in irritation and clearly unwilling to back down from a challenge. “You know this guy?”

Unfortunately, you did. “Kai—“ you start, but quickly clam up; Kai shoots you a look you’ve never seen from him before, dark and feral. It twists hot in your belly just as much as it scares you.

“She’s done. We’re leaving.” Kai hisses dangerously near your ear, loud enough for Jake to hear. You’re too shocked to respond.

“Hey, what the hell’s your problem, man?” Jake’s griping, but it’s not doing much good— Kai tugs you up out of your seat and drags you by the wrist through the crowds and out of the back door of the club. You want to fight him, yell and kick and scream, but all you can manage is to stare incredulously at the back of his head. He hardly gave you the leeway to grab your purse. Or pay your tab.

“Kai, what the—“ He pushes you hard against the brick wall of the club, presses himself flush against your back— you can feel the stiff bulge of his hard cock against your ass, his hot breath fan across your neck in jagged, heavy breaths.

“You think this is fucking funny, Y/N?” he snarls, deep and nasty. His hands press yours against the brick, keeping you still against both him and the wall. “Are you trying to piss me off? Show up dressed like a slut, whore yourself out right in front of me?”

You can only get yourself to let out a strangled squeak, all too distracted by the swell of Kai’s cock, the heat of his body against yours. Was this really happening?

“C’mon, say something.” Kai goads, rolling his hips. it takes everything in you not to moan. “Why are you being such a whore, Y/N?”

“You’re hard…” You whimper.

“I’m hard?” Kai echoes, sneers meanly. “Fuck yes I’m hard. I’m hard ‘cos you look so fucking sexy in this dress, I love your body; God, did you wear this for me?”

You’d been telling yourself you didn’t, but you did. You absolutely did. “Uh huh…”

“Dressed up all pretty for me yet you’re letting other men call you baby? Sounds like you just want me to punish you. Is that what you want? For me to punish you?” Kai’s hands let go of yours to grab at your hips, guiding you to buck up harder against him. “You know, I thought you couldn’t take it. Thought you wouldn’t be able to handle me. But now I think you deserve to be put in your place, don’t you?”

“Kai…” You croak weakly, keen high in your throat when Kai grinds hard right against your clothed slit, nestles his head in your neck to mouth hotly at your skin.

“Fuck you’re wet, I can feel it. Say it. say you want me to ruin you.”

He’s right; your pussy’s dripping. You’ve never felt this needy before in your life, and Kai hasn’t even touched you. You can’t help but be a little afraid for when he does.

Your mind flashes back to your dreams, vivid scenes of being underneath Huening as he tore you apart completely, made you feel raw and alive in ways you didn’t think you ever could. You craved to feel even just a fraction of what you did in your dreams, finally make them a reality.

You needed him.

“Ruin me, Kai, please.” you beg, and you meant it.

“Good girl, fuck.” Huening curses hot under his breath, pulls himself away from you— you whine out at the loss, and Huening gives your ass a surprise slap in retaliation. You bite your lip to keep from shrieking. “Fuck, okay, we’re doing this. 7’oclock Monday, okay? My place; Taehyun won’t be home. We’ll have time to talk it out before. Don’t be late.”

And with that, Kai once again stalks away, heads back inside the club with his hands in his pockets and head held high like he wasn’t just grinding against you moments before. You’re plastered against the wall, dress ridden up your ass, sweaty and hot and so wet it’s starting to drip down your thighs.

You’re not sure if you’re going to be able to make it to Monday.

“7 o'clock Monday, okay? Don’t be late.”

Monday came far too fast. Despite having the entire weekend to yourself you felt as though you had been given no time to prepare; you spent three days pacing your and Yeonjun’s apartment, unable to do anything except think about Hueningkai’s words, his voice, his hands hot and burning, branding on your skin… you were haunted, ruminating endlessly about what he was going to do to you, what his plans were once he had you all alone and to himself. How far he would push you. If he would take you all the way to the edge. If he would stop if you told him it was too much. If you truly trusted him as much as you thought you did. If all of this was really just some strange, one-off situationship between two good friends, or if there were feelings you weren’t ready to address hidden somewhere just under the surface.

Was this just sex?

Yeonjun kept asking you if you were okay, brow furrowed as he watched you worry yourself half to death, and you didn’t know how to respond.

The dreams you had been having had only gotten worse, more visceral. They frightened you, almost, from the intensity of them, but in the same vein you had never felt this needy in your entire life. You needed to feel Kai’s touch on you again like you needed air.

The falling snow nipped at your bare legs as you shuffled nervously in front of Hueningkai’s apartment door. You certainly hadn’t dressed for the weather– hidden behind your knee-length coat, you wore your tiniest skirt and your tightest top, low cut with your cleavage spilling out of your push-up bra. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, buried your burning face deeper into the lapels of your coat as the icy cold wind picked up in a dizzying, biting flurry– you’ve never dressed up for a hookup before, and you hoped it wasn’t obvious… would Hueningkai even notice? Could you even call this a hookup to begin with? The entire situation was so incredibly alien and unlike you in every way that it left a bad taste in your mouth, one you mulled over as you stared daggers at his door. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock on it.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. Taehyun tore the door open for you right as you gathered the courage to raise your fist.

You shrieked at your friend’s sudden appearance, grabbed desperately at your coat like it was a lifeline– Kai had told you that he wouldn’t be home, told you that the coast was completely clear for you to waltz in– that was the only reason you had agreed to come over anyway. You had to save yourself from the potential humiliation of facing Taehyun again after Friday, especially looking like this, yet there he stood, eyeing you up and down as he shrugged his jacket on.

“Wha– Why are you here!?” you demand, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. Taehyun gives you an odd look.

“I live here.” He answers flatly. “I was just about to leave, actually. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Taehyun cuts you off. His eyes trail from your glossy lips down to your bare legs, grimace on his face that would have offended you in some other circumstance. “Actually, don’t answer that. Kai’s in his bedroom. I’m going out, I don’t wanna be here for this– use a condom at least, will you?”

Without waiting for your reply, Taehyun quickly side steps your shivering frame to trudge off through the snow. He gives you a limp and unenthusiastic wave goodbye without bothering to look back– if he had, he would have seen you gape and splutter at his retreating back like a landlocked fish.

The door was left wide open for you to enter; all of the lights were off inside, dark and empty except for the cracks underneath Hueningkai’s door, all the way down the hallway– you felt taunted by it, frigid and terrified like something unexpected would jump up at you as you stepped inside and locked the door behind you. You’ve felt less dread walking through haunted houses.

Tentatively, you make your way down the hallway, the apartment unsettlingly quiet as you reach Kai’s bedroom door and fumble with the doorknob– it was unlocked, much to your surprise, and slowly you cracked it open and slipped inside.

Hueningkai’s room was dark except for the light of his console, illuminating your friend’s outline as he played some video game you didn’t recognize; he slouched in his gaming chair with his back turned to you, volume turned up so high in his headphones that you could hear the muffled gunshots all the way from the doorway– he clearly had no idea that you were standing right behind him, so engrossed in the game blown up on his screen.

“Kai?” you called out quietly, too nervous to raise your voice. Huening continued to click away at his mouse and keyboard, and you stared awkwardly at the back of his head.

You double-checked the time on your phone; you had shown up exactly when he had told you to. There’s no way he had forgotten about Friday… was there?

“Kai.” you called again, this time a little louder. Kai still did not acknowledge you in the slightest.

Frowning, you step over to his side, tap gingerly at his shoulder, and Kai reacts instantly— he jumps up out of his chair with a deafening shriek, sends his headphones flying as he whips his head around in terror to face you… it takes him a second to recognize your face, but his face floods with color once he does.

“Holy– Oh, (Y/N), Oh my God!” he whines, clutching his chest. Even his ears are red, you notice when he bends over to pick up his headphones up off of the floor, and you giggle to yourself as he turns back around to give you a startled, puppy-eyed look. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I’m sorry,” you reply, trying your very hardest not to laugh in his face. You’ve never seen him this embarrassed before, avoiding your eyes with puffed-out cheeks and a pink face; it was a cute look on him. “I thought you knew I was coming.”

“Well..” he cringes, fiddling with the headphones still in his hands. His face looked even redder. “I… I kind of thought you weren’t going to.”

“Why wouldn’t I come? I told you I’d be here.” you ask, cock your head at him, watch as he turns his console off and places his headphones down on his desk. He seemed nervous and disoriented, like he really wasn’t prepared for any of what he had talked about salaciously into your ear Friday night; you felt silly, suddenly, dressed up and standing expectantly in his bedroom. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken him so seriously. This didn’t seem at all like the man who had you pinned against a brick wall and begging for it just a few nights ago, and instead much more like the shy and gentle Hueningkai you knew much, much better.

“I thought I scared you..” Kai admits with a fake, humorless laugh, his wobbly smile quickly folding down into a grimace as he sinks further into his chair. “This is usually the part where I scare people. They were only half-joking about the whole ‘running away screaming’ thing, you know.”

Your own frown deepens, unsure of what to do or what to say as you watch him pick at his sweatpants, continue to refuse to look you in the eye as he rocks himself back and forth with the swivel of his chair. “I mean, I’m not angry about it, obviously.” he continued, fluffy blond bangs hanging over his face as he stared at the floor. “That would be stupid. A lot of people don’t like this stuff, and that’s fine. I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. It’s okay if I scared you, it really is. I’m sorry I came on so strong Friday, it was a bad idea and I shouldn’t have done it and I was drunk–”

Kai looks up at you for the first time in a while, big brown eyes watery behind his bangs and breaking your heart– he looked so truly guilty, like he had been beating himself up over this for days. Like he had spent the entire weekend pacing and tearing himself to shreds just as you had. You wish he had said something sooner, so you could have told him earlier that he didn’t do anything that you didn’t like, that he startled you but in a way that awakened something in you that you didn’t even know that you had. You wish you had the courage to tell him that he could have done whatever he wanted that night and you would have let him, because while this new side to him made you nervous it didn’t scare you. Hueningkai could never scare you.

It hits you then that there really wasn’t another secret, darker alter to Hueningkai, some frightening Jekyll and Hyde dynamic that your friends had placed into your head. Kai was always Kai, your sweet, perfect, nervous, nerdy, awkward Kai, even when he was saying the nastiest things you had ever heard in your life, and you felt very terrible very suddenly that you had ever doubted your trust in him.

“You don’t scare me, Kai.” You say simply, because you couldn’t get yourself to say anything else. The genuinely shocked look on Kai’s face at your words makes your chest ache.

“Really?” He asks just above a whisper. “I didn’t scare you?”

“No, I… I liked it.” You admit, face heating up. “I liked it, and I want more.”

Kai’s big puppy eyes change in an instant; suddenly he was gazing up at you like a predator, big brown eyes slanted and dark, dripping with a hunger you were frighteningly unfamiliar with. The sudden shift takes you by surprise, ignites a delicious fire in your belly. “Okay then.” Kai says slowly, taking his time easing out of his chair. You don’t miss the big, dizzying bulge in his sweats when he stands up. “Then let’s talk.”

He sits you down on his bed and sits next to you, though a good distance away– you could feel every single inch as Kai nibbles at his lip and bites at his nails, shuffles his feet and looks up at you coyly. “Before we do anything, I just want to hear about your boundaries… is that okay? I don’t want anything to happen that you don’t like. The last thing I want to do is to make you uncomfortable or hurt you..”

You’re touched, oddly enough, though you’re already jittery and way in over your head– with a quizzical little giggle you ask, “What do you mean by boundaries?”

“Like your hard limits, your soft limits.” Kai explains gently, moving to rest his big hand on the mattress between you. You stare at his long, thick fingers a few beats longer than you meant to. “Things you don’t want me to do to you. Let me know about what to stay away from so this can be enjoyable for both of us.”

You were in no way prepared for this line of questioning; you squirm around in your big coat, cheeks heating up– you were starting to sound like the virgin. “I, um… I don’t really know… I’ve never really done anything like this before– but I want to try it. With you.”

Kai lets out a deep sigh, that hand on the bed raising to push his bangs back from his eyes– pretty brown pupils dark and dripping with honey, such a startling juxtaposition from the sweet soft smile on his plush lips. You stare at him, mesmerized. “Thank you for trusting me to be your first, then.” he says lowly and surprisingly sincere, pink tongue darting out to lick at his thick bottom lip. “If there’s ever a point where you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to tell me, okay? I promise I’ll stop immediately.”

“Okay…” you nod. Your anxiety was diminishing by the minute, being replaced with a tranquil sense of trust– you were certain that only Kai could ever make you feel this safe.

“For boundaries, just follow my lead.” Kai continues. “I’ll list something, and you tell me if you’re okay with it or not, okay?”

“Okay.” you say again, more confidently. Kai grins.

“Good girl. Just say yes or no, okay?”

Good girl, said so flippantly like he did at the bar. You shiver, electrified– you can still feel Kai’s hot breath panting in your ear when he called you that Friday night, that hard thick bulge in his pants you’ve been trying desperately not to look at pushing hard against your ass, teasing you maddingly…

“(Y/N)?” Kai asks softly, sending you reeling back to the present. “Is that okay?”

“Yes! I mean yes, yes that’s okay…”

Kai giggles, eyes scrunching up in that way you adore so much. “Alright then. Can I hit you?”

Oh.

You blink hard, hesitate for a moment. “Hit... me? … Where?”

“Wherever you’d like.” Kai answers with the sweetest and most innocent of smiles. Only his bright red cheeks are giving him away. “I can spank you, if you want. I can slap you. Your face, your tits. Your.. your pussy even, if you’d let me.”

Once again you’re pulled away from reality, flooded with memories all at once from your salacious dreams; being spanked for misbehaving, Huening’s big strong hands ruthless on your soft skin. How it hurt but how you loved it, craved and begged for more… “You can spank me.” You finally get out after a while. “You can spank my p-pussy too… just please be gentle. And I don’t want to be hit anywhere else.”

“That’s perfectly fine, angel. I’ll be gentle, I promise.” Kai soothes in a deep croon, mixing deliciously and dizzyingly with the new pet name and making you rub your thighs together– you can tell that he noticed from the wolfish way that his toothy grin widens. “Do you want me to just use my hand or can I use a toy to spank you?”

The simple idea of being spanked with something other than a hand is enough to make you squirm and hide your face; it was something you had never even thought about before, but now… “You can do both..” you mumble quietly, too embarrassed to meet Kai’s gaze. He gives you an approving hum.

“Can I choke you?”

“Yes.” you answer with little hesitation, taking another quick glance at Kai’s fingers, now pulling at the hem of his hoodie. Kai lets out a huffy ‘oh’ like he had been hit hard in the chest, lost his breath. You can feel the hunger in his stare as it washes over you, the way he undresses you with his eyes– it’s already overwhelming and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Can I tie you up?” Kai continues heavily, deep voice a few octaves lower. You bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

“Yes.”

“Can I pull your hair?” he moves his arm like he was placing his hand back on the bed, but instead firmly grabs your upper thigh– he pushes your coat aside with his thumb so he can caress at your bare skin, and the teasing touch is more than enough to make your voice shake.

“Y-yes.”

“Call you names? Be mean?” His fingers dig into the fat of your inner thigh.

“Yes, yes please..”

The bulge in Kai’s sweats was obscene, straining hard against the fabric as he stroked your thigh, used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes; the way he looked at you was bordering on predatory, like he was going to eat you, so dirty and different than any look he had given you before… your pussy throbs when his thumb brushes softly across your bottom lip. “Oh princess…” Kai coos, sugary sweet, “What am I going to do with you?”

“What are you going to do with me?” you echo timidly, still meek even as you place your hand on his chest.

Kai’s grin turns practically evil, hand brushing higher and higher up your thigh. “I think you deserve a punishment for your behavior Friday, don’t you? Acting so bratty, dressed like a slut…”

The pad of his finger slips under your skirt to ghost over the soaked front of your panties. Your thighs clench hard, trapping his hand between them, and the hand you had placed on his chest grabs a fistfull of his hoodie. “Punish me,” you beg, meek and pathetic; Kai stares at you in what almost seems like disbelief.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks after taking a moment to study your face.

“Yes, please.” you answer, already leaning in to bridge the gap.

Kai kisses you so passionately it takes your breath away, his hands coming to cup your face and grab your hips as he pries your lips apart with his tongue, demanding his way inside. Your hands paw uselessly at his shoulders and neck, Kai swallowing your sweet little whimpers up greedily as he pulls you up onto his lap and tugs at your coat. He only pulls away when you’re both dizzy and begging for air. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for fucking ever…” Kai whispers against your lips, his deep giggle making your legs twitch and tighten around his trim waist– the confession hung heavy in the air, it weighs down your shoulders as you drop your arms to let him peel off your coat and throw it down onto the floor. Words get stuck in your throat as you scramble for something to say… Kai steals them from you with ease, big dark eyes marveling at every inch of your exposed skin, his hands cupping at your hips and breasts, ghosts feathered touches up the exposed skin between your itty bitty skirt and top

“Oh baby…” he huffs, honeyed voice labored and panting. “Fuck, look at you.”

“Do you like it?” you ask with a coy smile.

Hueningkai growls in response, flipping you over onto your back on the bed– he holds himself over you with his hands on either side of your head, pretty lips pulled into the most salacious of smirks as his eyes continue to rake down your body. “Kai…” you whimper, the few inches between your faces feeling like miles.

“No, no, don’t call me that, baby,” he coos, “Call me sir, okay?”

“Yes, sir…” you reply in kind, face hot. Kai gives you another quick kiss in appreciation before pulling himself back up and off of the bed. You whimper at the loss but Kai is quick to shush you, big hand coming up to rub soothing circles into your thigh as he rummages around underneath his bed– where he keeps his toys, you remember with a jolt.

“Turn over ‘n arch your back, can you do that for me? Ass up, gotta teach you a lesson.”

You shudder and follow his directions, bury your face into Hueningkai’s sheets as he gathers his things and settles himself back on the bed behind you; you can feel the bed dip from his weight, feel him place a few things down on the bed side the both of you before he runs his hands up your thighs and waist, across your shoulders and down your arms. In one swift motion he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms taut behind your back, binds them in place with the dull click of biting cold metal– he’s handcuffed you, you realize with a sick start. You’re completely at his mercy now.

“Are they too tight?” Kai asks when you test your restraints, tug at them uselessly; they don’t budge an inch, only cut tighter and tighter into the skin of your wrists with every movement. It’s an alien feeling, being bound like this, but you find yourself enjoying it much more than you thought you would, stoking the fire in your belly. You shake your head no.

“Good.” He says, big hands caressing your hips– he uses his thumbs to push your skirt up over your ass, revealing your cute lace panties. Thumb moving down to slide against your soaking wet slit, he coos, “Such a cute little ass, sweetie; can’t wait to see this cunt.”

You whimper and push back against his hand, making Kai chuckle and rub a quick circle at your clit before tugging your panties down to your knees in one swift motion. You gasp at the sudden shock, cold air hitting at your warm wet core.

Kai sighs like he’s relieved. “God, you’ve got the prettiest pussy, princess… I can’t wait to ruin it.” Without warning, he rears his hand back and slaps you, hard, against your panty-clad cunt. The sting is sharp and mind-numbing, making you cry out, but your voice quickly wavers into a low moan; it hurt like hell but you loved it, the tingling in your fevered skin only serving to make you wetter.

Kais hand then moves to cup and squeeze at your asscheek; you can feel your arousal coating his palm, your pussy so wet you’ve drenched it with just a single spank. “Count for me, okay honey?” Kai croons, gentle. “And say ‘thank you sir’ for every one.”

“Yes, sir…” you whimper, fighting the urge to look over your shoulder back at him as he shuffles around behind you, picking up whatever he had placed aside earlier. You hear a soft ‘good girl’ as he settles himself back into place.

Kai rewards your good behavior with your first proper spank, hard and fast and with a wooden paddle instead of his hand— you cry out, even louder and shriller than before, your hands twisting against the handcuffs as you shy away from Kai’s grasp. “One!” you huff out, winded, completely unprepared; Kai tuts, condescending.

“One, what? What did I say you call me? Be a big girl and use your words now.”

“One, thank you sir!” you correct yourself quickly, thighs already quivering.

He spanks you again on the other cheek, this time harder; you shriek at the sharp pain of the paddle, but it quickly morphs into a broken moan. The paddle elicited pain in a way you had never felt before, could hardly describe, the shocking sting reverberating through your entire body and coalescing in your mind, leaving you breathless and unable to focus on anything other than Kai’s big hand running soothingly down the small of your back, the leather of the paddle ghosting over your flushed skin teasingly. “Two, thank you sir!” you whimper.

To your disappointment, Kai only hums. This time he gives you not a second to prepare yourself before the paddle comes down again, catching the meat of your upper thigh. It hurts so bad it makes your eyes water, your mouth stuck open in a drooly, silent scream. Your cunt throbbed. “Tell me you’re a whore.” Kai demands, voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a whore.” you stutter out, wobbly voice barely above a whisper.

Two ear-ringing spanks land hard on your bruising ass, one after another on the exact same spot. Kai’s long fingers catching the very top of your inner thigh— you’re unable to control the shrill shriek that erupts from your parted, panting lips, watery with unshed tears. “Louder.” Kai spits, grabbing a tight fistful of your hair. “Let everyone hear what you are.”

“T-three, four! I’m a whore!” you cry out, your head spinning, your thoughts fragmented. You’ve been broken entirely, you fear, somewhere in the back of your mind. Broken and ruined and never the same again. The thought doesn’t scare you as much as you thought it would. “I’m a whore, sir, thank you!”

“Good girl,” Kai coos, a little condescending. He seemed to enjoy watching you break just as much as you enjoyed being broken. “Just one more, okay?”

He caresses your swollen asscheek with a surprising tenderness, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the burning flesh. Your cunt is so wet that rivulets of slick had begun to drip down your thighs, and by the harsh intake of breath you hear behind you you’re sure that Kai has noticed.

You brace for the spank, face buried in Kai’s sheets, but still your body shook with pain and pleasure as he lands it, vicious and aggressive, right over your throbbing cunt. The spank stung like nothing you had ever felt before, harder than the others before it, the pain reverberating through your core and making you hiccup pathetically— you’re floating, your fragmented and silenced thoughts somewhere far away, but the gentle hand on your hip grounds you back into Kai’s sheets, back into the moment as your body aches and yearns for more. “Five!” you finally manage to spit out, your cheeks wet with tears you weren’t aware you had shed. “Thank you, sir!”

Your punishment ends and it’s like a switch flips in Kai; his hands smooth over your hips and thighs, so so gentle in caressing the blistering globes of your ass.”Such a good girl girl, took your punishment so well…” He croons, pressing feather light kisses to your shoulder blades. “Knew you could do it, my perfect girl. So proud. Are you ready for more?”

“Please,” you pant, chest heaving. You hardly recognize your own voice.

Huening’s breath hitches at your answer, his hips stuttering as he presses them up against your ass. The fabric of his pants scratches deliciously against your pussy, the thick shaft of his cock rock hard and straining, slotted perfectly between your quivering folds— your skin tingles from the kiss he presses against the back of your neck, gentle and chaste. “Such a good girl deserves a reward, doesn’t she?” he purrs into your ear, his warm chest molded to your sweaty back. “What do you want, princess?”

“You.” you beg, sob. “You, please, sir.”

Your answer makes Kai growl roughly into your hair, buck his hips quick and desperate against your ass. His white-knuckle grip on your hips makes your head spin, only growing tighter. “Fuck. You want me? Want my cock? Whatever you want, baby, shit.”

The bed creaks when Kai gets off, his deep little chuckle reverberating through your body. Missing his touch, you roll over onto your back to watch him as he digs through his nightstand drawer, the raw skin of your ass stinging when they brush up against his sheets. Kai giggles triumphantly when he finds a condom, quick to tear the foil with his teeth, and the sweet, innocent noise is almost enough of a distraction from his long fingers pulling down his waistband. His cock slaps up against his belly obscenely when fully freed, flushed pink and twitching, flared mushroom tip leaking tantalizing pearls of precum— you bite your lip to hold in your gasp, cunt clenching around nothing at the sight.

“Why are you looking at me like that..?” Kai laughs, his blonde bangs shading his blushing cheeks as he sheepishly lowers his gaze to the ground. It would be like him, you think, to be embarrassed in a moment like this. He looks so sexy you could cry.

“I… I don’t think it’ll fit..” you admit in a whisper, thighs shaking.

“Oh baby,” Kai coos, sugary sweet, that hesitant nervousness melting into something darker, more alluring. You watch him roll the condom over his thick, leaking cock with bated breath and a throbbing core. “I’ll make it fit, don’t worry.

Kai moves too quickly for you to react, grabbing at your ankle and pulling you down the bed with shocking ease— with his other hand he tugs your panties the rest of the way off of your legs, frees your thighs so they can wrap around his trim waist as he brings your hips together in a delicious clash of skin. His cockhead slides up your slit and knocks hard against your swollen and soaking clit when he pries your legs apart over his shoulders, pushes your knees to your chest to spread you out fully for his view. He stares at your throbbing pussy in rapture, wide eyes with blown pupils making you squirm and fight the urge to hide behind your hands.

“God, you’re so wet,” Kai breaths, sliding two fingers between your folds, spreading around the mess of slick— soon he has them pistoning hard in and out of your hole, scissoring them apart and stretching your quivering gummy walls so perfect, rubbing up against all of your neglected sweet spots as you moan Huening’s name. Your pussy gushes with the lewdest wet sounds, nasty enough to make your ears burn. “Wettest cunt I’ve ever seen. Gotta stretch you so I can fit, yeah?”

“Don’t need it!” you gasp, tugging at the handcuffs still keeping your arms snug behind your back. You want more than anything to touch, to guide Kai to where you need him the most. You don’t know how much more teasing you can take. “I don’t need it, just need you… just fuck me!”

Kai pulls his fingers out, leaves your hole gaping and fluttering as he lines his cock up— his cockhead feels impossibly big pushing up against your entrance, so close it’s threatening to slip inside. “Come on, princess,” Kai teases, rolling his hips. “Good whores say please, don’t they?”

“Please!” you beg, desperate and whiny. You’ve never needed a cock this badly in your entire life. “Fuck me, sir, please!”

Kai lets out the prettiest broken moan, sheathing himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He gives you no time to adjust, immediately settling into a punishing rhythm pounding you into the mattress. You’re immediately overwhelmed in the best possible way, your staccato moans echoing off of the walls.

“B-big!” you hiccup, eyes rolling back from the onslaught of pleasure. His thick cock so deep you can feel him in your belly, so stretched out you fear that he would tear you in half, his fat cockhead knocking at your cervix with every thrust and sending wave after wave of euphoria. His intensity leaves you breathless, unable to think or hardly speak, each thrust surrendering you deeper into the throws of submission and desire. “Too big!”

“‘Too big?’” Kai mocks, his hips unrelenting. “Am I too big for your little cunt, baby? After you were begging for my cock like a little slut?”

You can’t reply, can’t do anything other than moan and cry as Kai splits you open. Kai seems to like that quite a bit.

“Being’ fucked so good you can’t speak? Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re so hot. Been wanting this forever, you have no idea—“ Kai’s rambling, pretty face flushed pink and his brown puppy eyes so dark and wild; he seemed completely lost in the feeling of you, so ruthless let unfocused as his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. You had forgotten you were even still wearing it. “You’re mine now, you hear? Pussy’s all mine. Never— fuck, never letting you go.”

He pulls your top up to bunch at your armpits, your plush tits spilling out to meet Kai’s hungry gaze. Your perky nipples harden from the cold air, flushed and begging to be touched; Kai can’t seem to help but stare in rapture as they bounce with each of his thrusts, his tongue falling out of his panting mouth like a hungry dog. “Pretty tits,” he pants, reaching up to gently slap one of your breasts— he groans at the jiggle, the way you whimper when his palm meets your sensitive flesh. “I’ve always— I’ve always loved your tits.”

He captures your pert bud between his lips, hot wet tongue marking the skin he had just slapped; he’s so rough with it, nibbling and sucking bruises, pinching and twisting the one not in his mouth between his thumb and forefinger— the sensations combined with Kai’s quickening hips, his unbelievable words drives you to the brink of ecstasy, your shrill cries deafening even in your own ears. “Kai—sir!” you beg tearfully, but you’re not sure what for. “Sir, please, please—!”

“Shut up.” Kai hisses, pulling away from your nipple with a wet pop. His hand moves from your overstimulated breast to encircle your throat, grip tight, fingers squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch and your vision fuzzy, ignite your senses— you gasp in shock, your hazy eyes blown wide, his grip adding a delicious edge to your arousal, his words churning hot in your belly… your pussy spasms around Kai’s cock, gummy walls sucking him in impossibly deeper as you finally let the pleasure overtake you.

“I’m gonna cum!” you bleat, your chest heaving, his fist still clasped so perfectly tight around your throat. “Kai, I’m gonna, I—“

“Shh, princess,” Kai laughs breathlessly, his voice cracking and his hips stuttering. His grip loosens, hand coming to rub electrifying circles against your clit. “Gonna cum all over this cock? Fuck— I’m gonna cum too, baby, feels so good! Gonna— wish I fucked you raw, wish I could fill you up… cum with me, okay? Come together with me—!”

You can’t take his words— hot fire in your belly roars, engulfing your entire being, and you’re sent over the edge in a symphony of pleasure. Kai follows close behind with a beautiful whiny moan, his cock twitching inside of you as he fills up the condom. Part of you wishes he had fucked you raw as well, could feel his hot seed paint your walls and fill your belly.

Maybe another time, you supposed.

As you catch your breath, chests rising and falling with the intensity of your shared orgasm, Kai tenderly caresses your waist, surprisingly hesitant and gentle in contrast to all of his touches before. His melted chocolate eyes meet yours, filled with passion and desire and something a little more. “That was…”

“Amazing.” you finish, a blissful smile gracing your lips.

“Can.. can we do that again?” Kai asks eagerly. “Not now, but like. Later. All of the time? We should do that all of the time. Can I take you out on a date sometime?”

taglist: @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @takemehye, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi, @numxra, @soobinsbuns, @taegimood, @jeniihss, @soobabby, @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz, @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie, @ttaesoob, @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr, @blxxsss , @ode2soob , @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari, @lurking-coconut, @horanghaelovr, @urstylezx , @mini-mews , @givethnofucketh , @ladyartemesia, @allisonistrashh, @nxlvvr, @lurking-coconut

#ɱเµρσω𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ౨ৎ #k-labels #hueningkai x reader #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #hueningkai smut #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai hard thoughts #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai scenarios

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linorachas · 1 year

Text

maknae line + unexpected kinks

tags: marking, choking, cockwarming, manhandling, public space, possessive behavior, afab reader for sm

this is for anon who requested a maknae line version of unexpected kinks!!! i mostly write smut for hyung line so this was pretty ballsy of me to write all of the maknaes in one go *__* hope it's readable pls do not throw tomatoes at me i am but a wee silly little writer

hyung line version | buy me coffee? (৹ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅৹)

HYUNJIN (marks)

Hyunjin hadn't thought he was this possessive.

But while he was fucking you into the mattress, he had accidentally left a bite mark on your shoulder as he lost himself to you and an orgasm. When he pulled back and saw you touch the mark with a dazed look on your face, the sight of it brought up something inside of him.

A deep, carnal need to see you covered in marks made by him and him alone. To see every hickey on your neck and know that it was from his lips. For everyone to know that only he could bruise you so prettily like this.

"Hyunjin," you gasp, "no- no more marks, People- they're gonna see-"

"So," Hyunjin growls against your neck. With his fingers tangled in your hair, he pulls your head back, giving him more space— more access to leave his mark on you. "So what if they see? Then they'll know to back off."

You squirm as Hyunjin's plush lips trail against your strained neck. You feel his hot breath first, then the sting of his teeth sinking into your skin before he sucks on it. It's one of the many, many marks he's left on your body today— from the inside of your thighs to your navel to your neck, but it still has you reeling like it's the first one.

He was going to make sure that he'll have you painted in his kisses, his marks, his bites, so that nobody will ever dare to put their hands in you.

Hyunjin was the painter, and you were his canvas.

JISUNG (being vocal)

"Thank god Hyunjin still had some condoms left.”

“Please don’t—“ you gasp noisily, scratching your nails down Jisung’s back when he shifts and his cock hits just right, “talk about Hyunjin when you’re— god, ah, fucking me.”

Jisung smirks, cocky and smug and annoying when he says, “Can’t multitask, can yo-“ but he’s cut off with his own moan when you squeeze your walls around him tight, making him double over.

“Fuck, babe, don’t do that.” Jisung hisses into your ear, hips slowing down to a stop as he composes himself. “What if I cum too early?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That was one time—“

“And it will never be forgotten.” You smirk, slapping his ass and making him jolt. “Now move, cowboy.”

Jisung sighs exaggeratedly. “I miss the days when you were just starstruck by my cock and would only say I was good.”

You roll your eyes with a snort, locking your ankles behind Jisung’s back, urging him to keep going.

“Well maybe if you fucked me that good again, I might— ah!”

Jisung’s entire demeanor shifts when he grips the fleshy part of your thighs, and your legs lift as he finds an easier position to pound into you. Your back arches at the onslaught of pleasure, but the movement only serves to make his cock press against your sweet spot more precisely, making you keen.

Jisung moves his hands, sliding them up so he could grab onto your waist tight, bringing you back down harder onto his cock. You slap your own hand against your open mouth, attempting in vain to muffle your lewd sounds. It doesn't work.

Jisung watches with a heavy gaze as you make noise after noise, unable to stop yourself from moaning and squealing every time he pounds his cock into you. Every mewl you made was music to his ears, and he wants to hear more.

Your hands scramble to cover your mouth again. Jisung frowns.

“Wanna hear you,” Jisung complains with a pout, lips brushing against the back of your hand as he leans in close. He grabs your hand and pins your wrist to the bed, letting your sounds filter through the open bedroom.

“They’re gonna kill us—“ you manage to say in between groans, writhing as one of Jisung’s hand slides up to thumb one of your nipples. “They’re gonna hear and we’re going to get kicked out—“

“Let them hear." Jisung mutters, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. "Let them hear how good I'm fucking you. Let them hear you scream my name. Let them know I'm making you feel good."

Jisung grunts with each thrust, punching moans out of you. He chuckles then, and with a glint in his eye, holds your wrists above your head.

"Let me hear you fucking scream, Y/N."

FELIX (cockwarming)

When you slip inside Felix's room and sit by his feet, Felix had thought you just wanted some cuddles.

So even though he was in game, he takes a hand off the keyboard to run it through your hair and acknowledge your presence, letting his nails scratch against your scalp. You hum and lean into the touch, then rest your cheek on his lap.

"Keep playing." You had said. "I'm just bored."

And so he did. He kept playing, but his hand came down to stroke your head whenever a loading screen popped up. You were so quiet and so still under him that he almost believed your were asleep.

That is, until, you nuzzle against his crotch.

Felix jerks, and his character in the game dies. When he looks down, you're looking up at him with a sheepish smile.

"I'm bored," you repeat with a pout, and he immediately knows that whatever you say next, he can't say no to. "I just want it in my mouth, please? I'll stay still."

Felix frowns at that, confused. "You'll stay still?"

With a gleam in your eye, you say, "I'll show you," and you tug the waistband of his sweatpants down.

And fuck. He isn't even hard yet, but he's well on his way with how you hold him in your hand, guiding his dick inside your very own mouth. Your hot tongue slides against his shaft, and Felix all but shivers.

"Y/N-" he starts with a hiss, but you're already taking more and soon enough, you've got his whole cock down your throat. It's tight and wet and hot and Felix doesn't understand how he's going to stay still-

But then you're back to resting your head on his lap, cock still in your mouth. You looked like the very definition of sin, drool in the corners of your mouth and cheek bulging.

But your eyes, lidded and dazed, stare up at Felix lazily, like you had all the time in the world and you were going to spend it with Felix's cock in your mouth.

"You're-" Felix swallows. "You're going to stay? Like this? While I play games?"

You nod. It was a minuscule action, but it inched his cock further into the heated canal of your mouth. Felix's head sags back against his chair.

Fuck. He is so going to lose.

SEUNGMIN (keeping quiet)

"They're gonna catch us, Seungmin, fuck-"

"They will if you don't shut up." Seungmin grumbles before pulling you into a kiss. It's so hypnotizing that you don't notice his hand slide down to your shorts, easily undoing the button with one hand before his fingers slip inside your underwear.

The moan that you let out when his fingers brush against your clit is loud, and he bites your lip in reprimand.

"Sorry," you try to whine quietly, even though you were busy squirming at how fucking good it felt to have his fingers rub circles on your clit. "I- ah, ah, wait-"

Just as you let another moan out, noises are heard from outside the door. A beat later, and you can hear Changbin's loud voice and Jisung's laughter.

Your legs close on instinct, but Seungmin's hand between prevented you from closing them all the way. He tuts and pries it back open with his other hand.

You look up at him, eyes wide. "Are you insane? They're right outsi- fuuuck,"

You grit your teeth as Seungmin chooses at that moment to slip a finger inside, slide easy with how wet you are. In desperation to help yourself stay quiet, you grab the edge of your shirt and lift it up to your lips, biting it between your teeth in hopes that it would muffle your sounds.

Seungmin's eyes darken.

The action had exposed your upper body, and just the sight of you doing your best to keep quiet was making heat pool in Seungmin's belly. You even had your fingers pressing against your lips, face contorted, but your hips were bucking into his hand like you'd die if you ever stopped. Fuck. Seungmin was salivating.

You startle when he presses you harder against the wall, at the same time he slips more fingers inside of you. He watches you, shirt between your teeth, eyes wide and desperate, and his cock jumps in his pants.

"You're going to cum for me," he says, tone leaving no room for protest. "But if you make a single sound before you do, I'm leaving you here. Understood?"

You clench around his fingers, and nod.

JEONGIN (manhandling)

Jeongin knew he was strong.

No matter how much he said he hated working out, he still does it diligently, and it showed. However, he's never known to what extent his strength reached.

At least, not until he's got you pressed against the wall, cock so deep inside you that your legs were shaking.

You trembled with every thrust, toes white from how much force you were putting on your feet just to keep yourself up. Jeongin held on to you, of course, but you were fucked so stupid that your arms lost all mobility and were slipping off his shoulders.

Despite the struggle, you were still moaning in his ear, begging and pleading for more. To fuck you harder. To make you take it. So with a lust-addled mind, Jeongin found himself sliding his hands under your thighs, gripping the flesh tight before he easily and quickly hauled you up.

"Put me down-!" You gasp, eyes wide, legs locking around Jeongin's waist on instinct. "Yang Jeongin, are you cra- agh!"

But Jeongin couldn't stop now. There was something about you, helpless, nothing you could do but trust Jeongin to hold you up and just take his cock over and over and over again-

He was in so fucking deep. Your head thumped against the wall with every drive of his dick into you. When he leans in close, you can't do anything else but whimper and look up at him with glazed, teary eyes.

"You want more? I'll give you more." Jeongin whispers, hitching you higher up the wall. You let out a strangled gasp.

"Hold on tight, baby."

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #yang jeongin smut #lee felix smut #kim seungmin smut #han jisung smut #hwang hyunjin smut

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house-of-lovin · 10 months

Text

legally binded - 9

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!

Word Count: 5.6k+

When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess.

Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?

“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already.

“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it.

“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”

Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this.

The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet.

Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”

You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand.

“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.

You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”

Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin.

“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron.

Kiss the Chef.

She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks.

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”

You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”

Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”

“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate.

“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.

You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming.

“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”

You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”

Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.

“They are?”

Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”

You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”

Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.

“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”

Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”

You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”

Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”

You hummed in response.

“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”

“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.

“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long.

Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.

She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”

“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room.

She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.

“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.

“You better wash those dishes…”

“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”

—

Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤

“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand.

“Dude…”

“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”

“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.

“Link… give it back, I need to respond!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.

“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”

“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.

“Hey…”

“Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.”

“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.

“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.

You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.

“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, I see how it is…”

“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”

The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.

Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”

Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.

“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”

“I thought you’d still be on set?”

“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.

“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.

“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.

“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“

“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.

“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”

“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.”

Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”

“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”

Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.

“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”

You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”

On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”

You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.

“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”

“You did not just say the racing channel…”

“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone.

“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”

“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”

“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”

“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.

“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”

“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”

You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.

“Is it serious?”

“No, just a sprained ankle.”

Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?”

—

“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”

“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”

Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud.

“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad.

“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”

“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch.

“I’m fine.”

“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy.

“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.

You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”

Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.

Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”

You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”

If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video.

She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”

Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.

You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”

“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.

“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.

“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”

You blush red.

As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.

“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.

“Miss, I can take your bags.”

“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”

“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.”

“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.

“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.

“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”

You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.

“Me too.”

—

“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”

It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.

“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.”

“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”

At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”

You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”

Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”

“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.

“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.

You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”

She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room.

You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”

“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.

“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.

“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”

Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”

“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”

Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.

“Thank you…” She finally said.

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”

Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.

“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”

“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”

“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.

“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”

“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.

Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”

“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”

“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.

“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”

Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.

—

“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.”

The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”

“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall.

“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.

“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.

“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile. “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”

She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island.

“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.

“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug.

One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.

“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”

“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.

“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.

“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”

“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.

“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look.

“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“

“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.

“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.

“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you.

“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.

Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?”

She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.

—

“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”

“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.

“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on.

“It’s good.” She finally says.

“That’s it?”

“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.

Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.

“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you.

“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”

“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.

—

“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.

“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”

“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”

Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.

“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”

You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.

“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yup.”

“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”

“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.”

But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.

“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“

“Which, I am.”

Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption.

“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.

“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”

“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”

The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.

“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”

She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”

She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction

“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”

The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words.

“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking.

But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”

“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious.

She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes.

You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”

Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.

Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.

“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.

Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.

Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.

Shit…

You’re in deeper than you thought.

——

if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)

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#legally binded #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

1K notes · View notes

mar-iiposa · 11 months

Text

prompt: the boys find out that their s/o snorts when they laugh

tag(s)/warnings: GN reader, suggestive comments/themes/jokes, vv fluffy

requests: open

authors note at the end for readers!! stay tuned :D

Leonardo:

he’s trimming his bonsai (you know how much he treasures them)

he’s slightly humming “boy’s a liar too

you’re reading a book whilst in the dojo

the dojo is quiet except for the calculated snips

you decided to save the next chapter of your book for later, so you quietly go on your phone

until you see a cute couples date idea on your ‘for you’ page

“hey, leo?”

you didn’t expect your voice to come off as wayy louder than intended

and neither did your boyfriend

the blue-masked ninja jumps at the unexpected noise

so much so that he knocks his bonsai over

his heart stops and he swiftly dove to the floor and scrambled to juggle the plant before finally catching it

he wipes his forehead and breathes a loud sigh of relief

however, you’re laughing your literal ass off

never have you seen him so visibly stressed

you were convinced he was gonna have a heart attack

hunched over and gripping your own sides, you’re hollering

and out comes snorts while you laugh

but as soon as you realize you’re snorting, you put a hand to your mouth

as you blink in embarrassment and security,

leo smiles over at you in adoration

with those criminal cute dimples too

“what was tha-?”

“you heard nothing.”

“babe, I know what I heard.”

you look away in pure embarrassment, heavily avoiding eye contact

“I know it’s weird-“

he’s now visibly confused

like wtf??? wdym ‘weird’??

he thought, if anything, that he’s the weird one

considering he’s a mutant turtle

“how is that gorgeous laugh weird?”

you’re about to respond when you pause

your cheeks grow warm

“what-“

“you heard me.”

and he’s giving you that little coy yet sincere smile of his

“you should laugh like that more often, princess.”

your jaw has dropped

he takes a few steps towards you

and he gently holds your chin, lifting it so that you look up at him

eye contact (l o r d)

“I like that raw beauty.”

you sink into your seat, oh my god

he chuckles softly and pecks your lips with a kiss before walking out of the dojo

you’re stunned.

and why are you turned on-

Raphael:

so we all know raph

and he is the biggest “gym rat”

( no offense to master splinter )

and you guys know those squats that you do with weights???

yeah, well, raph wanted to try those out today

and so he did

but it didn’t go by unnoticed

you were spotting raph (gym term) when mikey passed by

and my god, does mikey always have something to say

right as raph was mid-squat

“nice ass-popping, raph”

you

you LOST IT

in tears laughing

mikey instantly fled from the scene

the look on raphael’s face just made it so much better

and so did it make you laugh much harder

thus, you began to laugh your “real laugh”

snort after snort surrounded your laughter

uncontrollably snort-laughing

“ya got the hiccups there?”

and just as quickly as he mentioned it, you were just as quick to stop it

you stood from your seat and your brows furrowed together

he knew that look

that was when he knew he was screwed

and off you went, grabbing your things and ready to head up go the surface and back home for the night

he strides after you, reaching out for your arm

but you pull it back before he can get the chance

“babe, what’s wro-“

you stop briefly outside of the lair’s entrance, tears pricking at your eyes

you feel the droplets on your lashes, and you can’t look at him

so, he stands in front of you

and his heart stings

“I feel like a pig,” you cough slightly as you begin to cry

raph’s expression instantly softens

“baby… yer speakin’ nonsense.”

he gently takes your hand in his big, rough and calloused one

“everyone always says that when they hear my real laugh.”

your pout quivers as your lips do so, your shoulders shaking slightly as you cry

you move to cover your mouth and half of your face with your other hand as you cry

but he stops you

and he carefully places it on his cheek

and his left hand rests on your cheek too

“raphae-“

“I love ev’rythin’ about ya. sweet cheeks, look at me.”

your gaze flickers to meet his amber eyes

“you could have a million laughs… but this one right here? jesus, that one’s my favorite. now that’s for sure.”

you get on your toes and desperately hug your much-taller boyfriend

now this is one of the reasons he’s the love of your life

“I love you, raphie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Donatello:

that’s it

he’s convinced you are 110% his soulmate

and here he thought that he had the worst and dorkiest laugh

this snort-laugh of yours occurred when donnie had accidentally taken a sip of scorchingly-hot coffee

he was sleep deprived

thus, he forgot how hot coffee could be

directly after pouring it

and you weren’t quick enough to stop him

so you snort laugh, stomping a little as you throw your head back in your chair

he used to hate his own laugh that involved tons of snorting sounds

but now you’ve effortlessly convinced him that it’s the best laugh in the entire universe

“what was that?”

donnie’s got the biggest and most goofiest grin on his face

“I can explain-“

his grin expands

“yeah, huh? give me another demonstration, darling.”

you shake your head in disagreement

just as you open your mouth to further reply, he continues

“oh, I bet I can out-snort you, jellybean.”

a wicked grin plastered on his face

and a mirroring grin begins to grow on yours too

“how much are we talkin’?”

“un-licked poptarts.”

“annddd?”

“annddd I’ll have to be out of the lab for a week.”

woah

this dude was serious

“deal. pleasure doing business with you, an-“

“nuh uh, no stalling. let’s hear it, you first.”

donnie gestured towards you to start off the competition

you give a purposely-snarky little laugh, snorting near the end

your boyfriend gives a nod of approval

“very cute, might be hard to beat.”

then he gives it a go

“such a rookie”

he shoots such a devastatingly-cute yet playful grin over at you

he then cracks his knuckles

“game on.”

and so now this just sparks your competitive side

you two spend the next 15 minutes just going back and forth

and those passing by right outside of the lab are so confused

“what the hell’s going on in there-”

Michelangelo:

thank god he’s a comedian

you’ve giggled countless times around mikey and towards his jokes

he’s a funny one

indefinitely getting giggles and chuckles straight out of you

but your actual laugh???

it had yet to be unleashed

until today

your boyfriend’s trying to show you how to get creative with your art

lately, you’ve been out of the zone

and who better than than the master of creativity himself to help you out of your art block?

so here you are in the sewers, spray painting on the walls

“angelcakes, you’re too stiff! you gotta relax, chillll”

“but I’m trying!”

he moves to stand directly behind you, covering your eyes with the tails of his mask, his hands over them as well

“what’re you doing?”

“just spray with your eyes closed and move, babes.”

you inhale and then exhale

with a few movements here and there, you decide to start off small until you could hopefully gain inspiration from there

instead, all you got was a surprise

“IS THAT A PENIS?”

apparently, you accidentally drew one

mikey yelped, falling to the floor as he banged his fist against it in fits of laughter

he had the humor of a middle-school boy

and so did you

top tier comedy imo

you kneeled down to the floor beside him

clapping your hands, you feel yourself losing control of your body

and that accounts and goes for your laugh too

least expecting it, you begin to snort as you uncontrollably laugh

some squeals in there too as you try to regain your composure

he laughs harder, pointing at you

you nearly feel the insecurity start to seep in

that is until you hear him go “awee!”

and your heart melts

but not as much as his has

“you like my snorting??”

“who wouldn’t?! it’s the cuuutest thing ever, baby!”

you swore that you fell deeper in love with this man

somehow

you both just sit there in those sewers

laughing over an accidental penis drawing

and continuing to laugh like a couple of fools

lovesick fools

author’s note: hello, everyone!! glad to be back! I’ve been on hiatus recently, but I hope to be more active and produce more fanfics and headcanons for you guys :) I am currently open to requests, so please send them my way! and don’t limit yourself, you can send as manyyyy requests as you want!! please leave comments and stuff, they fuel my motivation and validation tbh 🫶 thank you for reading, thrilled to be back!!

2K notes · View notes

thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”

☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader

☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.

☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises

☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹

tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04

Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.

He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.

Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.

Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.

Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.

There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.

Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.

“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”

Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.

“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”

His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.

“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”

“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”

Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.

He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.

“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.

“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.

The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.

“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.

Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.

But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.

But damn, he was persistent.

Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.

“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.

Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.

He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,

“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”

He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.

“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.

Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,

“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”

"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."

Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.

He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”

His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.

You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.

Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.

Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.

Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.

Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.

Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,

“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”

You placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I want your hands.”

You kissed his other cheek.

“ I want you inside me, mate. “

You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.

Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.

A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.

‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.

Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.

His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.

You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.

You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.

“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.

Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.

“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”

You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”

He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.

Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.

Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.

“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”

As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.

“Delicious.”

Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.

He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.

“Can I repay you Azzie?”

Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.

He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.

“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”

But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.

Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.

Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.

You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.

Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,

“Play later.”

You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.

His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”

“You’re doing so good, keep going.”

“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.

By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible.

The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.

Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.

“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”

“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”

“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”

Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.

“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”

Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.

Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.

Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.

“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.

“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.

You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.

Oh, how you loved him.

In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.

“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.

The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar imagine #azriel x reader fluff #az x reader #azriel acowar #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acomaf #azriel acofas #azriel spymaster #azriel acosf #azriel x fem reader #azriel x female!reader

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zepskies · 13 days

Text

A Crime of Passion

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!

Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.

Word Count: 550

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).

Catch up on the TMH-verse: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You just…you couldn’t stop laughing.

“All right, you done?” Beau asked.

You never thought you’d see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.

He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.

You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.

You just couldn’t believe it.

This man had really broken your bed.

In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)

There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.

“Again, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll pay for a new frame,” Beau said contritely.

The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.

Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.

“Baby, it’s okay. This thing was old. I’m surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,” you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.

“But how damn lucky am I,” you added, your lips curving. “My man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.”

And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard you’d come on his cock. (Twice.)

You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.

Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“You sure you’re okay then?” he asked.

“I’m more than okay,” you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. “Better the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.”

Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.

“Think of it this way,” you said. “Now we can go pick out a new bed together.”

Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.

“Now there’s an idea,” he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.

“Right?” you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. “We’ll just have to make sure the frame’s reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.”

Beau couldn’t help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didn’t bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.

One thing you knew for sure?

There was no way in hell you’d ever let him live this down.

And one thing he would never tell you…

Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.

AN: 😂 Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Take Me Home Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka

@branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu

@nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91

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@curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow

#A Crime of Passion #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen smut #Beau Arlen series #TMH-verse #Take Me Home #beau arlen fanfiction #beau arlen fanfic #big sky #jensen ackles #big sky season 3 #jensen ackles characters #A Good Man Is Hard to Find sequel #zepskies writes

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sidekick-hero · 10 days

Text

the unparalleled and precious @flowercrowngods tagged me to post some lines of an unpublished wip with no context

The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot is followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opens, revealing the lucky guy who will have him for the next two hours.

He’s pretty, is the first thing that comes to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, is his face. The pale skin a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that look at him like a deer in the headlights.

Then, the door closes with a bang.

“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembles slightly and Steve’s torn between worry and amusement.

Faintly he can hear the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorts, and Steve rolls his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thinks he's really funny.

Eddie seems to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"

This is one of those nights when Steve wishes he was smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.

"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupts, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."

Steve wonders if they know he can hear every word they say. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they're not exactly quiet. He just hopes nobody calls the cops.

"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"

Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opens the door and pulls Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They do, closing the door behind them, and then they all look at Steve, who is still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that led him here.

He gives a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."

Eddie blinks at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remains unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitates to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie is limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he feels an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge is unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hits him.

"This is Steve," Gareth introduces, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glances around, hoping for support from the others, but they remain silent. Steve rises from his spot on the bed and approaches Eddie.

As he stands before him, Steve is enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, hold a warm hue that is captivating. Steve flashes a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.

"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declares, though technically, twenty minutes have already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve is willing to make an exception.

tagging with no pressure, only appreciation: @starryeyedjanai, @thefreakandthehair, @hbyrde36, @runninriot, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @steddieas-shegoes

#steddie #steddie fanfic #sub eddie week #(at least I hope I get it done until the end of the week)#my writing #wip game

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hbyrde36 · 6 months

Text

STWG Daily Drabble 11/7/2023

Prompt: Unexpected conversation

Eddie didn’t know what to think when Max approached him out in the field just as everyone was wrapping up their preparations for going after Vecna. Dustin had just gone off to talk to Steve about something when the, frankly intimidating, redhead made a beeline for him.

“Hey Munson, we need to talk.” She said.

He was taken aback. Sure they were neighbor’s and all but they didn’t really know each other that well, and she was surrounded by friends here. He couldn’t imagine what she would need him for, but who was he to deny the girl who’d been cursed by Vecna himself.

“Sure, Red. What’s, uh... what’s up?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him an honest-to-god once over. Suddenly he felt like he was being picked apart by an adversary and being studied for weaknesses. Which was weird considering they were on the same side here. He was so confused.

She cleared her throat and held piercing eye contact as she hit him with her question. “What’s going on with you and Steve? I mean, what are your intentions?”

Eddie couldn’t help but burst out laughing. There was no way she could possibly know he was gay, and obviously Steve wasn’t. So it had to be some kind of joke.

Right?

One look at Max’s face silenced him abruptly.

For some reason, she looked pissed. “Well that’s about as clear an answer as I could have asked for. Is this a fucking joke to you?”

Eddie glanced around, hoping someone, anyone, would come and rescue him from the scary teenager, but everyone was busy with their own taks.

“Wait, what do you mean? Are you serious?” He said finally.

“As a heart attack, dickhead. I know I don't always show it, but Steve means a lot to me, okay? I don’t want to see him get hurt again.” She looked off briefly in the direction she’d come from. Where Nancy was still working on her sawed off shotgun and making sure she had enough ammunition.

“I don't understand.”

He really didn’t.

Eddie got the Nancy thing. He’d had a nearly front row seat to the show the night their relationship had imploded in the bathroom of Tina’s Halloween party. He'd been dealing just across the hall and couldn’t help but overhear, but he didn’t know what he had to do with any of that.

“The boys might all be blind but I'm not,” Max began. “I was watching you guys on the boat through the binoculars.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“Okay fine, I was watching Steve take his shirt off through the binoculars. Sue me, have you seen him? Whatever, I saw the way you were looking at him and-”

Eddie cut her off. “Max… that’s… you can’t just say that shit, alright?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to out you, Munson. Trust me, I don’t care if you’re gay. I’m not gonna, like, tell anybody.”

Good to know.

“Okay fine, good, I guess. Thanks. But, what’s all this shit about me and Steve?”

She furrowed her brows for a moment and then something seemed to click in her head. “Oh. So you are as stupid as you look.”

“Hey!”

“Just calling ‘em how I see ‘em.” She shrugged.

“Jesus christ, all you kids and you’re fucking tones I swear to god.” He muttered.

“Look, I'm just gonna say it. Usually I wouldn't get involved, but since no one can blame the dying girl for meddling, I- ”

Eddie softened. “Max...”

He knew she didn't like sympathy, she's made that abundantly clear, but he coudn't help it. She shut it down immedietely though.

“I’m fine, just listen. Steve clearly likes you.”

“I mean, we did have a little talk in the weird freaky woods, and we definitely don’t hate each other anymore, but I…”

Max snorted. “See? Stupid.”

Eddie gaped at her. “Dude, what did I ever do to you?”

She pointedly ignored his outburst.

“Like I said. I saw the way you looked at him on the boat and then I saw the way he looked at you when you got back. Then there was that whole thing in the RV." She shuddered. "I don’t know what happened in between, and I don't want to, I just want to make sure you know that if you hurt him we will all collectively kick your ass. You might be one of us now, but Steve's been there from the beginning. He’s saved all of our lives, more than once. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie took a deep breath. He could appreciate what she was saying, and yeah maybe he had started to develop a small crush on the guy. Anyone would after seeing him rip that demobat apart with his bare hands… and mouth.

Jesus Christ, Eddie stop thinking about his mouth!

“Listen, Red. I think it’s sweet, what you're trying to do here, but I cannot stress to you how unnecessary this is. Nothing is going on between Steve and I. Even if I wanted that– and I'm not saying I do!” He was quick to add. “He is literally the straightest guy I've ever seen.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“He didn't have to.”

“There you go again, putting people in boxes!” Max scrunched her nose in disgust. “Isn’t that against your whole thing?” She asked, gesturing at the general, everything, about him.

“Technically, yes. But…”

“But nothing! You shouldn’t assume things about people. You should talk to him.”

“There is no way in hell I'm asking Steve Harrington if he’s gay!”

“Not that dip shit. Just, i don't know, tell him you like him!”

“Why do I have to put myself out there?!” Eddie shouted, a touch too loud. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just denied it.

Max sighed deeply. “Because Steve won’t. He’s probably scared and he’ll just keep flirting with you until you get the hint and I gotta be honest, I don't have a lot of faith in you on that front after this conversation. So I'm gonna need you to bite the bullet on this one.”

Eddie chewed his lip. He couldn't believe this girl actually had him considering this.

Was it worth the risk if she was wrong?

Maybe.

What did he have to lose it anyway if it went badly?

“Okay. Fine. If we all survive this I promise I'll talk to him. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

And then Eddie wasn’t an idiot and he didn’t go after the demobats alone and he didn’t die. Steve however did wind up in the hopistal, because how could he fucking not have gotten an infection with that many open wounds running around in a fucking hell dimension. Eddie sat by his bedside and one night confessed his crush. And then they kissed and lived happily ever after. The end.

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie fanfic #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #fanfic #steve x eddie #steddie

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fairydvsts-blog · 8 months

Note

i loved “i could fuck you better” sm! 🥵 reading the part where she begs rafe to finish in her without protection made me wonder, could u maybe write something for ex!rafe getting reader pregnant? 🤫

𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞

Rafe Cameron x ex!fem!reader

obx masterlist

summary; your relationship with Rafe hangs by a thread, but a mistake will forever bind you together

warnings; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex, unexpected pregnancy, some angst but fluff in the end

a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find some mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Sorry for the delay, I'm a slow writer :(. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for your request!! ❤️

When Sarah had invited you to her birthday party, the last thing you expected was to end up in Rafe's bed... Once again.

You two had broken up a few weeks ago for the hundredth time, and you had been ignoring him since the break up because you knew it was likely you would get back with him if you didn't.

And he didn't deserve it after what he had done.

But that night he was acting very different from how he usually acted: kind, sweet, caring. You hadn't seen him snorting any coke and he had even apologised for being a jerk —which was almost unthinkable coming from him—, causing you to soften in no time.

Before you knew it, you were naked under his dreamy body.

He was pounding into you hard, your bodies were covered in sweat and you couldn't help but moan with every thrust, each one of them hitting your g-spot. His hands were everywhere, touching and caressing every part of your body almost like he was worshipping you.

"I've missed you so much, baby," he whispered while he grabbed your neck to bring your face closer so he could kiss you, taking your breath away.

His tongue slipped between your lips and you moaned, closing your eyes and pulling his hair so hard that he groaned in your mouth. You used your legs to push his hips rougher against yours and you swore you felt the tip of his dick rubbing your cervix.

"Have you missed me?" he asked when you didn't reply, desperate to hear an answer.

He grabbed your left thigh, hard enough to bruise, and he placed your leg over his shoulder, heightening your pleasure. You cried out and hold onto his biceps with so much force that your gel nails dug into his tanned skin. You tried to give him an answer, but that new position was clouding all your senses and you weren't capable of putting words together; you had lost count of how many times you had come thanks to his fingers and his dirty mouth, but you could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm again.

"Are you gonna answer or should I stop, baby?" he insisted, slowing down his movements.

"No, no, please, I'm so close, Rafe," you begged him as you ground your hips to try and get yourself off.

"Have you missed me or not?" He pushed your body against the mattress so you couldn't move and stopped thrusting.

"Rafe..." you stuttered, looking at him with pleading eyes, but he didn't budge.

"Yes or no? It's an easy question, baby." He placed his thumb right over your clit, rubbing it at a torturing but very pleasing pace.

"Yes, I've missed you so much," you finally recognised, whimpering and biting your lip because of his actions.

He smirked, clearly satisfied with your answer, before he started pounding into you again, faster this time. He kept touching your clit with his fingers, making your eyes roll back, and you tried to match his pace the best you could. Soon, you were standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to jump off it.

"I'm going to cum," you told him, grabbing his hand to encourage him to rub your clitoris faster, and he complied.

"Me too, baby." His breathing was heavy while he started letting out more and more moans as seconds passed.

You stroked his belly, feeling his abs contract under your fingertips, and his thrusts became sloppier. You knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but neither were you, so you tightened your muscles around his cock and he groaned aloud; his raspy voice caressing your ears. With one last touch on your clit you came hard, trembling under him and moaning so loud that you were sure people on the first floor could hear you.

"Oh, fuck yes."

Your climax triggered his; Rafe cried out a bunch of curses while he fucked you through your orgasm and his own. You were so lost in the moment that you didn't even realise he was not wearing a condom. Three weeks later, though, when your didn't get your period, you became aware of your enormous mistake.

You sat on your bed, shaking and holding the pregnancy test in one hand, your phone in the other. It was positive, you were pregnant, but you were so scared of Rafe's reaction to that information that you didn't dare to tell him. You started crying your eyes out, not knowing what to do.

Should you tell Rafe?

Should you tell your parents first?

Should you keep it a secret and have an abortion?

You were too damn young to be a mother and you weren't ready for a responsibility like that, but it didn't seem fair to Rafe that you made that decision without being honest with him about the situation first; he deserved to know, even if you weren't together anymore.

You hadn't talk with him since your last encounter at Sarah's party given that you went back to ignore him as soon as you had left the house the morning after. He, on the other hand, was being more persistent than ever, blowing your phone with calls and messages every day.

That time, it was you who called, and it took him less than thirty seconds to pick up his phone.

"Baby, I'm so glad that you called." He sounded relieved to hear form you.

"We have to talk, Rafe," you simply said, struggling to contain your emotions that were all over the place.

Now at least you knew the reason behind all of your recent mood swings.

"See you in five." He hung up the phone.

As he promised, he was ringing your bell five minutes later. You opened the door, your eyes clearly puffy due to all the crying, and he frowned when he noticed, hugging you almost immediately.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked, concerned.

He carried you inside, sitting on the couch and motioning you to sit on his lap. You did so, crying inconsolably on his shoulder as he whispered reassuring things to your ear throughout. He didn't pressure you to tell him what was going on; he just waited till you were ready to talk.

"We fucked up, Rafe," you said when you had calmed down, turning to look him in the eyes, "I'm pregnant."

His eyes widened when he heard you, his mouth dropping open because of the news, and it took him a few minutes to overcome the shock.

"Say something, please," you asked, feeling your eyes starting to water again.

Your heart was hammering in your chest; you were terrified. What were you supposed to do if he didn't support you in the most difficult moment of your life? For you, that would mean the end of your relationship forever.

Thankfully, that did not happen.

He just put his arms around you one more time and said, "Baby, whatever decision you make, I'm here for you, okay? I'll always be there for you when you need me, because I love you with all my heart."

For the first time since you had met him, you felt truly safe in his arms and you knew right away: he was the one, your one. It was pointless to try to stay away form him; you were his and he was yours and the universe would always conspire to bring you together, because you were meant to be.

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sebscore · 1 year

Note

hello! i’m the one who asked for fluff with rbr seb, i meant a one shot if that’s okay with you :)

i’m going to use 🌑

DRINK WATER, NOT ALCOHOL | SEB V.

pairing: rbr!sebastian vettel x fem!reader

warnings: drunk seb. swearing.

author's note: thank you so much for requesting something for our beautiful princess that was rbr seb! I had fun writing this one so I hope you like how it turned out!! don't be shy and let me know what you think of it! also, if you get the title reference- you’re a legend and you should be my friend! 💞

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Hey, what are you doing? Hey! Stop it!'' Sebastian drunkenly professed, pushing the unwanted arms away from his chest. ''I have a girlfriend, go away!''

''You're kidding, right?''

''It's not cool, just stop it!'' The Red Bull driver attempted to move away from the undesired touches. The person in front of him didn't seem to understand the man wanted to be left alone in his drunken state.

The countless refills of his beer must have done some serious damage to Sebastian's vision, because there was no reason for him to pry away from the person who found him almost sleeping on his friend's couch.

Sebastian hadn't been able to properly celebrate his second World Championship title with his friends from home. That's why one of his best mates had organized a party at his home to commemorate the driver's title defense.

Everyone was having a great time, especially the man of the hour. Y/N had seen her boyfriend drunk before, but this time it was quite a different sight. So when she saw him stumbling into one of the many rooms, she couldn't help but check up on him.

Upon walking into what seemed a ''man's cave'', she was met with a practically unconscious man, drool coming out the side of his mouth.

Y/N tried moving him into a more comfortable position as he almost fell on the cold floor. However, he protested and started pushing her away, claiming he had a girlfriend.

Sebastian didn't recognize her.

''You have a girlfriend, huh?''

He hummed at her words, a smile finding its way to his face. ''Yeah.''

''Tell me about her.'' Y/N smirked, sitting down on the ground next to him.

An unexpected snort left his mouth. ''Why do you want me to talk about her?'' But before Y/N could answer him, he proceeded. ''She's- she's so fucking hot.'' He grinned, his eyes still closed.

''She's just so- ugh, perfect. We first met when we were like 20 and it was before I was in F1 so she had no fucking idea who I was,'' he chuckled, ''but she smiled at me and I don't know what she thought of me, but I thought she was beautiful. I thought she looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.'' Sebastian smiled, almost in a dreaming state.

''I love her more than anything, I know I should tell her more- she's always there for me. That's why you can't kiss me, okay? It would hurt her and I don't want to do that. I would never want to do that, it would kill me.''

Y/N admiringly watched him, touched by the things he just told her. It was a given that Sebastian loved her, she would be an idiot not to see it. But when he said that it would kill him if he would hurt her, it hit different.

''Can you go find my girlfriend, please? I- I miss her.'' He stuttered out, making a lousy attempt to point at the door.

She tried greatly to not burst out in laughter, finding her boyfriend absolutely adorable. ''Yes, I'll go get her.'' Y/N got up from the floor, grinning to herself. She waited for a good ten seconds by the door before closing it with more force than usual.

The harsh sound made Sebastian flinch and he swiftly sat up, his hand on his chest as if he was clutching a necklace made out of pearls. ''Huh? Wha- what? Y/N? Oh, baby! I missed you so much!'' As soon as she saw him notice her, she quickly made her way over to him again. His arms found their way around her and he peppered kisses all over her face. ''You found me!''

''I did,'' she laughed, ''I'm gonna get you some water, alright? You've had enough drinks for a few weeks.''

Y/N made an advance to leave and get to the kitchen, but Sebastian firmly held her in his embrace. ''No~'' he whined, ''don't go! I don't want you to leave me!"

The woman got up despite his cute whining. ''I'll be back in a minute, loverboy. By the way, I won't give you a kiss until that alcohol-stinking mouth of yours has been washed.'' She ruffled his hair, dodging his last effort to get her to stay.

''Then get me some damn water!"

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #formula one fics #sebastian vettel x oc #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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christinebloodwrittings · 15 days

Text

To hunt or be hunted #7

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: A moment of weakness, or perhaps of caring? Warnings: SMUT kids scram!.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis

Sorry for the updating problems, now it's finished :3

"Then...make me your reason" your laughter was unexpected, but then again, he wasn’t expecting for you to say yes right away.

"Why? And don't sell me the cow that in less than three months you fell for me, 'cause it's not possible, besides you're married" the brightness that surrounded him, upset your stomach, it was a reminder.

Her. His story, the fall, his and her promises of never stopping loving each other. What could happen between them to break such a love story? What if she never came back?

Could you live long enough to make him happy? Will you suffice?

"Well, I grew fond of our talks, it will be really sad if I lost my cuddle buddy" He wasn't sure what he was saying, just the fact that not seeing you was not an option, "And, I've noticed you take good care of Charlie" it hurt him, a lot, but seeing his own daughter being taken care of in any way possible, but not by him, was like a direct stab to his heart.

Your weirded out face made him explain:

"You make sure she eats, in the mornings it's you who gives her vitamins, you remind her of her appointments, bandage her when she gets hurt, I've even heard her rant to you and take your advice at heart. You've taken care of my daughter as if she was yours" Lucifer’s heart ached with every word.

A lightning bolt hit your entire body, figuratively. Eight years of taking care of her, it was as natural as breathing. Did you perhaps reflect the stolen need for motherhood in her? If so, her real mother is going to annihilate you.

"What if that was your reason?" he had his hope on the line, "I'm not her mother, the real deal will kill me if she hears me, but though she's being unbelievably irresponsible, I cannot take this from her” you took notice on his hands again, he had them on each side of your head it was hard not to notice.

Subtle scratches, horizontal, messy and weirdly even, the depression medication. Oh you prayed she never get back, he would never forgive you if her head was on the other end of your axe, but you won’t have him getting hurt by her again, and if it could be at the expense of your life, even better.

"I think, deep down, she knows that. I'm not excluded in that" he lowered himself again, at least you wouldn’t look him in the eyes when you spoke, it hurt seeing his ‘at the verge of tears’ look.

"You know, I think if you tell your daughter of your depression, she will stop resenting your absence" he pulled himself up again, his red cheeks went so down you thought they would reach the underside of his chin "She does what?" anguish, pure at that.

"What did you think she rants about? Partially you, mainly why her hotel isn't working” he sighed, listening to you made him understand why Charlie stook around you, which was the other way around mostly, but still. He took your hand from his shoulder, kissed your knuckles with his eyes closed, then muttered a very heartfelt "Thank you for taking care of her” before leaning against your palm.

"With time it became my pleasure, at first I wanted to kill her" you chuckled, he came down on your neck, inhaling the remanent smell on his shampoo. What an intimate thing, Lilith wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some other thing than her rose smelling antique perfume and products.

“Good thing you didn't” he muttered, “And face you? I ain't stupid" you only realized what you said when he started laughing at you, a soundly one with one or two occasional snorts, "Shut up" you rolled on your side with him still on you, which was pretty easy.

"Make us your reason, stay" if you were sober you would’ve coward in your old morals for the intimate position, crotch to crotch, but it was so close and warm.

“I'm just leaving that option on the table, if you still want to die, we'll miss you dearly, heck, I think even that son of bitch of Alastor will” you shook your head softly, attempting not to laugh, the alcohol doing all the funny work in your brain.

“You enjoy being in between my tits, huh?” his snake smile was too much when you dropped that, “I've been here through all this conversation, didn't heard you complaining” his hand went up and down your back.

“You have her in your mind when we do this” your happiness went away, your limbs went limp, so did your mind for a moment.

“No, not so much” his smile dropped, gosh you wished you could sew it up, “I wasn't asking, I just want to know if you're aware of who I’m not”.

“I am” he assured.

“Do I disappoint you, when you open your eyes and realize she's still not here?” he was, his hesitation told you everything.

"Thing is, I can't make you or Charlie my reason, I will not be a replacement, I'm sure you understand"

"And what if Alastor asked you that? Will you?".

"No, he’s two different people, one with me and another in public, and he despises physical touch and PDA on a daily basis, and I need that" you saw his shadow slip from under the door, drawing a finger along his neck and an ok hand gesture.

“But he did me a solid tonight, a huge one, if he asked me for a kiss tomorrow I would give him some sugar” the shadow winked then slipped under again.

“And if I did? Would you?” you knew what he was asking, but instead you just played something random in your head in hopes for him to let you sleep a bit, “Give you a kiss? My, my, your majesty, how forward”.

“You're a prude” he moved away from your neck, “I'm simply old fashioned”.

His hand rested on your cheek, gently moving towards your neck, not squeezing or pressing, just holding it. Your tail wrapped around your leg, at the same time you closed your eyes as her face approached, slowly. A kiss, calm, soft, near the corner of your lips.

"Is that okay?" you weren’t listening, you wanted to relish on the loveliness of his gesture, it made you all bubbly and lovely. You hummed, there was nothing else you could utter, not when his breath went back to your neck.

A mental ‘fuck it’ later, had you yanking his head away from your neck and pressing your lips on his, "Remind me of this when I'm sober" as soon as you were done you pulled him back against you, "Will do" a loved sick king he was, reminded him when he just had met Lilith.

"And Y/n…if you gave me a chance and some time, you wouldn't be a replacement” after a second of thought and a heavy sigh, “Can I keep that option and sleep on it for a while?" he smiled then nuzzled into your warmth, as did you, "Sure thing, like I said, the option is there".

The way Lucifer saw it, an abstract void in which he was trapped, willingly so.

How can he put seven years of pain behind him? It is as if he is sitting in the dark, while the world moves around him, he doesn’t know if he falls or rises, he only feels the movement and how it leaves him behind in a certain way. He sees you, far away in the shadows, your body wrapped in them, covering everything except your face, to him it looks like you are drowning, in the center of your chest a white, empty hole.

Your tired eyes without more tears to shed, even without strength they managed to stay away from the shadows, how? He alone clinging to hope and denial kept the cold of loneliness and despair at bay.

Contrary from him, you maintained yourself above the darkness, standing, strong despite being tired out of your mind. He longed to know what drove you to keep walking despite everything. Reach you in some way, save you from the hands of pain that tried to drag you into oblivion.

What were you reaching for? Your arm was out stretched, towards the sky, was it heaven? Someone to help you? He wanted to, he wanted to move, why he couldn’t?

“Fuck, Y/n! Wait for me, please, I’ll find a way, I promise!” he yelled into the void, not getting your attention despite how many times he did, or how loud he was.

Specks of lights made you fade from view, “No, please, not you too, I can be better!” His knees shook, so he used his claws against the ground to try to move towards you, tearing the skin under his nails from the strength he put into it.

“Please, don’t leave!” he yelled one more time. And then, he felt how his agitated breathing dried his throat, the light from his room almost blinded his eyes when he opened them. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was a dream.

It was still pretty early, the sky was still dark, the only light that illuminated the room was the one from the bathroom.

You were kneeling near the toilet, head down, he guessed the alcohol caught up on you and moved away from him to vomit. Silently he picked up your hair from your face, gently holding all the soft strands in his hand, as the other caressed your back softly.

Still, not a single word being uttered, he materialized you a toothbrush, then he waited for you to come back to bed, his arms open. This time he positioned himself behind your back, one arm under your neck and the other across your waist, avoiding pressing too hard.

You wondered, what made him treat you so sweetly? You touched with your index softly along the scratches on his wrist, “How can someone ethereal like you, be troubled by things so earth bound?” you realized you said it out loud when the hand that was on your waist moved to intertwine it with yours.

“I’m far from ethereal” his hot breath was on your ear, the twitching made him smile. “You were an angel, how can someone like you feel so much pain?” It was difficult for him to analyze your question, were you perhaps questioning that angels did not feel emotions? “How? I feel, you like you” you shook your head, “That’s not what I mean” collecting your thoughts seemed impossible, it was a mental mess.

“You wonder why I feel pain?” you hummed in response, “I feel like at the beginning, helpless, useless, I took away her chance to go to heaven, believing I could make her happy, but it wasn’t enough” he then added “I wasn’t enough” hurt was an understatement, there was a whole set of words yo describe how his voice sounded, but his sadness overall brought a few tears to fall off your eyes.

“I may have felt the same way… still do” he hugged you even tighter, “We are two broken souls, a bunch of messy pieces” you leaned your face to the marks on his wrist, placing a subtle kiss as you joked “Scrap books”, making him smile and let out a small laugh, “You’re so cute”.

🍎📻

"Alastor, is me, open up" you leaned against the door frame, your headache killing your head and your stomach on the verge of jumping off your body. That and the tiredness for waking up in the middle of the night made your voice a bit raspy and slurred.

"Good morning mon chérie, how was your night?" either he was being a sunshine to piss you off, or he was in a sincere good mood…or both.

“I am never drinking again” he laughed a little, watching you push the silver ‘room service’ cart inside his room, setting it on a near corner.

“I assumed as much” he reached his bookshelf and pulled a couple pills out of a few boxes, “You're amazing” he got all kind of tingles when you took the pills off his hand, he relished on how unbelievably soft your skin was.

"I must say that about you, quite the entertainment your ex resulted to be" With his cup of tea he sat in a single red sofa chair, with his free hand he pat the black one on his side. You flopped on the seat with your cup of coffee.

“Is he dead?” he couldn’t tell by your already sour tone if you were being sarcastic or you really cared, "Barely alive, but healing, I will tore him apart again tonight" the little smile he got from you was delightful.

"Darling, I have some information for you" if the ass of your ex told him anything, you didn’t needed to know, curiosity burned your insides though. “What will it cost me?” he hummed pensative, “A kiss” that was odd coming from him, but then again you remembered telling him, or his shadow, that.

“The intel first, to see if it's worth it” you tried to laugh your urge to kill someone, “I know the name of the man your daughter got sold to, he's down here" he took a sip of his tea, "He's in the mafia district, I know where his base of operations is".

"I… want to see him first, hear from him what he did with my daughter, even if it hurts" he hummed in understanding, reaching your hand, giving you a reassurance squeeze.

"Again, thank you Alastor, you...have no idea how much I appreciate this" he smiled, the shadows that conformed the chair you sat on elevated you and with a swift movement you fell gently on Alastor’s lap. "Show me” ‘fucking narcissist’ you thought, bringing your hand to cup his cheek.

When your lips merged with his, time didn’t mattered, it in fact went a lot slower. He embraced your waist with one arm, bringing you closer if that was possible, his other one secured your back and neck in place, grasping a fistful of your hair once or twice.

He sensed his mental sanity left his body when he felt your hand on the back of his head, caressing ever so lightly, going down to the rim of his shirt, respecting the limit he wanted to eliminate.

He felt a little brave, comfortable with the interaction, the white shirt carefully tucked into your pants was lifted, allowing Alastor’s hand to roam around your back, feeling the corset laces, playing with them.

"Don't do that if you're not going to do something about it" you warned, your forehead in touch with his. Alastor’s smile softened, “I’m not partial to physical touch” he started, “You’ve made that clear” you giggled, pecking his cheek, earning a content sigh from him.

“Somehow you… how to put it? Make me desire it, to have you nearer than I accustom” you blinked a few times, your hand went back to his cheek, softly making your way to his hair, “I don’t understand why, nor this feeling, would you help me dearest?” He had closed his eyes when your hand touched him again, but at the end of his question he opened them.

Having known well the desire faces of countless men, you knew that what Alastor was begging for was not any sexual impulse, but closeness, warmth, softness. The pleasure that only a person who burns for another can deliver.

You weren't sure if you could provide him with such a feeling, however the guilt of having denied him your sympathy for fear of becoming too attached dissipated for a second.

His face got close once again, his eyes asking for permission, without wasting any more time you let him introduce his tongue into your mouth, a passion that ignited a flame of desire that ran through your entire body.

He pulled apart, “May I?” He referred to the bulletproof corset you were wearing. After nodding your head, he deftly undid the slats that held your torso together, as well as unbuttoned your shirt and removed the leather straps over your shoulders.

He seemed to pay no attention to the snake tattoo clutching your arm, making its way to in between your breast.

Exposed from the waist up, but that wasn't going to be uneven. You asked the same thing, your hands playing with the hem of his shirt, occasionally touching his Adam's apple to rile him up.

You knew he was unsure, but he nodded nonetheless. He kissed you again as he felt you letting his coat fall from his shoulders, as well as the leather cross that adorned his chest, and then one button at a time his shirt opened, until you had a clear view once again of the scars. under his fine fur, the already healed battle wound and his thin but strong torso.

His hands then touched a series of indentations on your skin, long and repetitive, almost all of the same length, spreading across your skin to a little below your shoulders. When he wanted to stop kissing you to take a look, you held his face against the back of the chair, "Don't make me feel like damaged goods, don't pay attention to what you're touching, okay?" You didn't want to see him feel sorry for you, for once you wanted to enjoy the attention without thinking about your past.

He obeyed your wishes. Standing up from the chair, with you up with him, in a flash of green, he laid you down on a dark red fabric, he had materialized a bed on his room.

His hands caressed from your shoulders to your breasts, perhaps admiring the shape or the softness, but more than anything, what made Alastor make sighs of pleasure was leaving small kisses and bites from your neck to the space between your breast.

The small electric sensations made you cling to his shoulders, fighting any urge to accidentally scratch him. Purposedly, returning to your face level, he pressed his groin against your core, a yelp escaped your throat, a sound that to his ears was heavenly.

“Take the cover off” He knew you used a dental cover over your fangs, mostly to avoid cutting your tongue or lips, “You want me to bite you?” he chuckled, his face adorned with a lustful glint, “I want you to devour me, chérie” with a snap of his fingers, he made it go away, leaving it on a tiny box on the shelf on top of the fireplace.

He left his collarbone exposed and free for you, raising his body a little higher, taking the opportunity to lick the sensitive edge of your ear. His breath caught as your teeth embedded in the curve where his shoulder and neck meet. When he was able to breathe again he exhaled shakily, causing your cervix to tingle.

Ecstasy, that was the word that came to Alastor's mind after trying to rationalize. His knees trembled, but he felt strong enough to lift your body and move you from the edge of the bed, towards the center, your head resting on one of the pillows.

Something that he could not do in life, but because it never occurred to him that he would need it, try the pleasures of skin. He moved down your body, hands on your belt, he again asked for your permission and with a smile you nodded. His constant questioning was refreshing, no one was interested in asking you if you wanted to be defiled, however, he was different.

Like the show man he is, he traveled down to your feet, pulling one up his shoulder, as he unzip your boots and felt all undergarments discarded on the edge of the bed. Never breaking eye contact as he did.

He also undid his pants, allowing you to see the red streak of hair that went down his bellybutton to the groomed part over his groin. He was big, the color of his skin matching the cream hue on his face, only lighter.

“I’ve never done this before” he confessed, ears to his sides, “You want me to take the lead?” you asked, not mocking but trying assure him it wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, “Tell me how can I pleasure you” your own ears went down embarrassed, “You don’t have to go down on me, but the path has to be opened, you can do it with your fingers”.

He hummed, burring his face in your neck as his hand went down your stomach, passing over your clit to go in between your folds, finding your wet entrance. You gasped, he rid of his claws as he introduced one finger.

Your hands flew to his back, alarming him a little, “It’s okay, it just…been a while, I kind of forgot the feeling” your face was flushed, too embarrassed to look at him in the eye. He continued a soft pumping motion, nipping on your neck as he did. Relishing on the gasps and moans that left your throat. He continued that way until he was able to add three fingers, and by the then your insides squeezed him tightly, then your back arched as you emitted a loud high gasp.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore, it felt so good, I’m sorry” he kissed your tears away, “I’m actually quite flattered I was able to pleasure you to the point of finishing just with my fingers” he made you laugh, “Al, please, I need you inside” your whole body was shaking as he touched you.

“With pleasure, ma belle vie” He positioned the tip on the edge, sending shivers up his spine. Little by little he pushed himself inside, all the way to the rim.

He waited for some kind of confirmation despite his urge to move, although he found your hips grinding on his was enough of a clue to continue.

His pace started off slow and gentle, when you pulled his face back for a kiss, something inside of him snaped. “Y/n” He brought your knees higher on his sides, making you press against his skin.

His eyes went black, his antlers and body increased in size, and so did his dick as he was still inside you. Not enough to rip you apart, but considerably bigger than at the beginning.

Alastor's mind suddenly switched off, wandering in darkness for a few seconds, “Alastor! Ah!” before your loud whine brought him to clarity again.

He looked down on you, "Are you alright?" On the inside he was worried out of his mind, but he tried to seem - in his own words- cool, as he asked.

Tears ran down your eyes, your skin was sweaty and flushed, you were panting and moaning as you tried to make up an answer. He felt your legs trembling against his skin. “Something like that” you said out of breath, a week smile on your face.

"Please don't stop now, I'm very close" he wanted to please you, but when he looked down at in between your legs, as he decreased in size, his dick was now soft and leaking.

"I think it won't be possible dearest" you shook your head with a soft smile, "Don't you worry, come here" he didn't noticed how much of his strength his orgasm took away, until he relaxed his body nuzzling into yours.

“Are you sure it’s enough?” since you had already came twice, you felt that you didn’t need to be greedy, after all, it was his first time. “I’m sure” to your eyes he truly seemed happy.

It warmed your heart when he hid his face on the crook of your neck, looping his arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours. "I suppose after this you won’t be allowing me to touch you for a week” he sighed, “Most likely” you felt comfortable, happy, his was another type of warmth, “Y/n” he spoke, kissing the red marks he left on your skin.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I really am” spotting his ear, you seized the opportunity to nip at it, gently but with a little force that caused him to dig his nails on your hips, and let out a whine.

“What was that for?” he pushed himself off to hover on top of you, not necessarily angry but bothered and hot, “To piss you off” he groaned at your amused expression, not having any fun with it despite his permanent smile, “You’re more than forgiven, will you accompany me to pay the mobster a visit?” he sighed, lowering himself to kiss your lips before whispering against them, “It will be my pleasure, darling”.

You two agreed to stay a little bit more time in bed before attempting to shower, despite his wish to take a bath with you, he felt too overstimulated to allow any more touch, which you respected.

Little did you know, that the king found himself making a mess inside his pants, as he had watched the whole thing from the rim of the door. With the aid of his wings he scurried back to his room, his hand going up and down his dick in an attempt to soothe the aching.

“Y/n” he repeated, panting. In his mind he saw himself taking hold of your hips, your hair, hands, breast. Holding your whole being against him. He thought he knew angelic chorus sounds, until your moans proved him wrong.

His breath hitched cumming a second time into his hand, “Fucking bell hop, fucking bastard” he hit the back of his head against the wall he was leaning in.

The painting of his wife on the wall made him feel guilty about what he had done. Masturbate thinking about someone else? he had never thought about it when she was away. He didn't even have the strength to do it anyway.

At the end of a mental torture, he concluded that the kiss you gave him last night was not enough, he was going to make sure he didn’t lost you to Alastor, he just had to figure how to convince you to want to live.

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Stay tuned ;3.

Part 8

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