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#not even Counting all the other times he's opened his trap and shoved his foot in there
ssaalexblake · 1 year
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and not to be all like ‘and Another thing’ but assuming this dw casting bullshit is the result of a clusterfuck of moronic behaviour without malice when the way it played out was; 
A) announce the casting of a black man playing the next doctor, get praise for diversity.
B) seven days later announce return of former doctor, white man. Refrain from explaining what the hell is going on for Months. Allow people to assume he is reprising his old role for the anniversary event. 
C) Months later having the previous doctor inexplicably regenerate into said previous white man, state in press afterwards that actually He’s the next canonical doctor. Not the guy we told you we hired and let you praise us for casting bc diversity. 
is generous as hell. 
This could very easily be read as them wanting clout for hiring Gatwa for the job but not actually wanting to go through with it, and only letting people know months after the fact so they don’t get slammed for it because it’s out of people’s minds now as it’s been so long. A bunch of people don’t even seem to be aware they announced somebody pre DT now? 
the assumption of benevolent incompetence at this situation is being very kind. They announce gatwa as the next doctor, 7 days later said ten/nant is back, proving this was all set in stone already, but Conveniently wait months to let us know he’s actually back as the Next doctor, not as ten, blatantly showing that they effectively lied? That sounds far more like a deliberate attempt to get clout for diversity without following through on it, but not wanting to get shit for it like how they would have if they just told the truth with that original announcement of his return that happened, again, a single week after the og announcement. 
I mean, do i believe they’re this incompetent and clueless to do this without Realising what they did? Yeah but... If they did that by accident it doesn’t bode well for what’s going to happen in the future both on screen and behind it. 
The fact that tennant and tate have gotten a ton of press and the new white blonde lady got a live stage companion introduction when the doctor she’s acting against got a footnote of an announcement, and then immediately overshadowed in 7 days, is also an omen i’ve personally decided to take notice of. I remember people commenting saying Whittaker’s intro was lacklustre because Capaldi got a whole ass live tv show and she just got a tiny pre-recorded video, and that it looked bad considering the circumstances. Turns out she was doing fine, actually! Could be worse!  
The bbc (and disney, i guess) have openly demonstrated their willingness to place the white cast members front and center, and how they will Casually shove everybody else in the background as a footnote like they barely exist (even if they’re legit playing the titular character) because apparently they don’t think they can sell the show enough. I even had some person on my post suggesting this was a good strategy to sell the show and effectively trick people to watch it before Gatwa, so it has Not passed people by that this is happening, and apparently they openly don’t care if it spikes viewing figures. 
All i’m saying is, i am Not taking it for granted that this was a big accident that makes them look bad. It could equally be read as deliberately malevolent. Both of these things are bad though. 
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cozage · 10 months
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Hello! I'm always tempted to go anon because for some reason, I expect judgment from people who are here for the same reason I am. It's very silly. But anyway. May I please have Law and Luffy in an Ace-Marineford situation (captured by the marines and set for public execution) with their s/o being the Luffy, head of the pack coming to save them. But like they survive! Maybe their s/o loses a limb or an eye or is badly hurt or something, but they survive and are together at the end. I'm here for angst, not more Marineford related trauma!
Thank you for your time.
A/N: Im so glad you don't turn anon! And I'm so glad you're here :) Ohhhkay! I imagine this takes place in Dressrosa. You get captured during the escape, and the Strawhats + Law rush to come to get you in Marineford. 
P.S. I realized you wanted Luffy and Law separately about 2/3rds through writing this story IM SO SORRY. 
Characters: gn reader x Strawhats & Law
Cw: reader peril, fighting, reader getting injured, Marineford spoilers
Total word count: 2k
How to Save a Life
Looking down at Marineford, Luffy found it all extremely foreign. He remembered the platform where you kneeled to the world. But everything else was unfamiliar. 
Of course, they had to rebuild a lot of it after Ace’s execution. Luffy remembered that much. The devastation that had been caused by both sides had been immense. But they had chosen to rebuild regardless. And now Luffy was back here again. For you. 
His entire command of 4,000 individuals had come along with him, as well as Law. But Luffy refused to allow the execution to drag on longer than it needed to. The world government knew how much of a threat he was now. And if he didn’t get to you quickly, they would kill you in a heartbeat. 
They had two Vice Admirals ready to perform the execution. Luffy’s conqueror haki wouldn’t impact them the way it had the last time. His best bet would be to get up close to you and get out. 
Everyone was frozen, waiting for the first person to make the move. 
“Please leave, Luffy!” you screamed, breaking the eerie silence that had begun the moment his ship rose from the sea. “It’s a tr-”
Akainu slammed his foot into your back, shoving you down into the ground to keep you quiet, and Luffy’s rage ignited. There was no way in hell that Luffy would allow Akainu to kill two people he loved. 
“Torao-”
As he spoke to get the other captain’s attention, a blue hue appeared around him. It didn’t encapsulate the entirety of Marineford, but it would get him closer to you. Close enough. 
“Ready!” Akainu commanded, and the two Vice Admirals raised their swords. 
Luffy gritted his teeth, praying he would get there in time. He felt his surroundings change, and suddenly he was in the middle of the air. His hand slung back and shot forward. But even if he could take out one of the executioners, there was still another sword that would end your life. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the end. All you could do now is hope that Luffy and the others would make it out alive. 
A fist met your face, and you could feel your entire body blow backwards from the impact of the punch. You could hear the sound of two swords smack against the wooden platform, and you cracked an eye open to see what was happening. 
Luffy was soaring through the air, diving headfirst to you. He had punched you out of the way of the execution. It was such an idiotic but obvious answer, and of course Luffy thought of it.
He screamed your name, reaching out towards you. You could see the Marines tense, looking to Akainu for direction, but you didn’t care. The only person you cared about now was Luffy. 
“Luffy, wait!” you screamed, desperate to get him to stop. You expected that Akainu anticipated some kind of complication. To him, you were just bait for a bigger fish. “It’s a trap!”
“I’m coming for you!” Luffy yelled back. “Don’t stop fighting!” 
You knew he wouldn’t stop. You knew he didn't care if it was a trap. He had a panicked look in his eyes, only focused on you. So you listened to your captain. 
As Akainu approached you, his hand began flowing with magma. He was expecting you to cower, to be frozen in fear as Luffy had been the last time he was here. And when Akainu went in for the kill, Luffy would sacrifice himself to save you, just as Ace had last time. 
But you refused to let that happen. Luffy wouldn’t be dying for you. He wouldn’t be dying anytime soon. Not before he became king of the pirates. 
You scrambled away from Akainu as best you could, giving Luffy as much time as possible to come up with some kind of plan. Your shackles didn’t give you much movement on the platform, but it was enough to keep yourself away from him. 
You saw the outline of one of Luffy’s Elephant Gun attacks, and you braced yourself for another punch. The wooden platform splintered under you, and you felt rubber arms wrap around you, pulling you to him. 
“Watch the sea prism!” you cried out, but suddenly Zoro was next to you. He looked startled, as if he wasn’t expecting to be there, but he quickly examined the situation and drew his blades. He sliced your shackles off and grabbed your arm, trying to stop his forward momentum. You all tumbled to the ground, Luffy turning into a balloon at the last second to cushion your fall. 
“Stupid cannons,” Zoro mumbled, holding his swords out while looking at the Vice Admirals. Luffy stood next to him, gearing himself up for battle. Zoro glanced over at you and gritted his teeth in irritation. “Get back to the ship!”
You looked at the two of them, protecting you. “Luffy-” 
“Just get inside Torao’s room,” Luffy reasoned. For once in his life, he actually made sense. “Then we’ll join you.”
You nodded and turned on your heels to run towards the blue hue in the distance. You didn’t want to leave them, but you were the Navy’s primary target, and you knew everyone would be coming to attack you. You had to remind yourself this was a rescue mission, and if you died, then everything they did would be for nothing. 
You ran, fighting off Marines as you ran past them. You picked up a sword from a fallen soldier as defense, thankful for all of the times Zoro made you train with him. Marines were surrounding you slowly though, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer like this. 
You had made a mistake. You knew that, and as much as you wanted to correct it, it was too late. Pain ripped through your abdomen, and you screamed out. A sword had found its way into your flesh, and you could see blood beginning to blossom from the wound area, spreading over your clothes. 
You wanted to collapse from the pain. To curl up and die, to give in to the will of the World Government. But you had to find a way to survive. You couldn’t die now, so close to freedom. Luffy would never forgive you. You couldn’t leave him alone. So you stabbed at the Marines, sweeping them to the side and continued on your journey. 
“Y/N!” Luffy’s voice came from behind you, screaming out in desperation. You were too tired to turn around and look at him, but you could hear the slap of his sandals as he approached you. It was all you could do to keep upright.
His arms wrapped around you, helping support you. The second you felt him, you leaned heavily into him, the adrenaline wearing off now that you knew you were safe. You still had at least 500 yards to go, but you knew Luffy wouldn’t let anything happen to you now. Your vision began to blur, and you suddenly felt very cold and very tired. 
“Don’t give up yet,” Luffy yelled, shaking you awake. “You have to keep moving.”
Luffy’s voice held a certain urgency that willed you back into the moment. You blinked away the sleep from your eyes and kept moving closer to the blue hue of safety. It was closing in fast, 400 yards, then 300, then 200. 
“Zoro?” You paused to look around for the mossy haired swordsman, but Luffy kept propelling you forward. 
“He’s holding off the admirals,” Luffy said, adjusting his grip around you. 
Luffy could feel you tense at that, but he kept moving. He was practically dragging you now from walking so fast. It was all your legs could do to not give out, but neither of you could worry about Zoro now. He was capable enough to hold his own against any enemies you faced, this was no different. 
You practically flung yourself into the blue sphere, and instantly felt weightless in the air, before dropping onto the deck of a ship. You groaned and rolled over, face to face with a green haired man that wasn’t Zoro. 
You yelped out in surprise, trying to scramble backwards away from the stranger. 
“Oh man, you look like you’re in rough shape!” the man said. “Nothing you haven’t been through before though, right?” 
You gave him a confused and irritated look, but he turned his attention from you and looked out. “A doctor! Y/N needs a doctor!”
“I’m a doctor, idiot!” You heard Law’s voice in the distance and felt calmer. At least you were amongst friends, even if you weren’t sure who they were.
“You can’t leave Mister Luffy and-” The green haired man spoke again.
“I’m not!” Law shot back. His voice was still strained, but it was softer when he addressed you. “Can you hold on a few minutes?”
You nodded, pressing your hand against your stomach wound. You needed to slow down the bleeding as much as possible. Your vision was hazy and you felt cold, but you forced your eyes to stay open. 
A few seconds later, Luffy and Zoro appeared next to you where some barrels were. Luffy ran to you, covering you in kisses. 
“Luffy,” you said, struggling to hang on to consciousness. “Tell Law I’m type F.”
“Type F?” he asked, looking at you with concern, but you had already given into the darkness. 
---
When your eyes fluttered open, you laid in a bed with bright lights above you. There was a mechanical whirring and steady beeps of machines, letting you know you were alive. 
“You were lucky,” Law said, looking down at you. “Incredibly lucky. If that blade had hit one more inch to the left and you wouldn’t be here now.”
You let out a shaky breath, scared of what could have been. “Thank you, Law,” you said.
He raised an eyebrow. “For what?” 
“Saving me?” you laughed, which in turn made you wince in pain.
“I didn’t save you,” Law said. “There wasn’t much I could do besides close up the wound.” His eyes darted to the bed next to you. “What you needed was a blood transfusion, which he helped with.”
You turned your head slightly to find Luffy sleeping in the bed next to you. He had a bandage wrapped around his arm, but other than that he looked relatively fine. 
“Luffy?” you asked, and Law nodded. 
At the mention of his name, Luffy stirred, mumbling a strew of syllables mixed between your name and different kinds of meat. After a moment, his eyes flicked wide open, and he bolted upright, looking around frantically. 
“Did we do it?” he asked, looking at Law. 
Law’s eyes darted over to you, and finally Luffy turned, his eyes meeting yours. A wide grin appeared across his face, and laughter bubbled up inside of him. 
“You’re okay!” he cried. Luffy jumped out of his bed and into yours, wrapping you tight in a hug.
You ignored the pain of your wound for the moment, thankful to be in his embrace again. 
“Get off!” Law scolded his fellow captain. “If that wound opens up again we’re all back where we started!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Luffy said, still giddy with the fact you were back in his arms. He loosened his grip, but didn’t let you go completely. 
You leaned in to him, trying your best not to cry. “Thank you, captain. Thank you for saving me. Twice.”
“I’ll always come back for you,” Luffy murmured in your ear, giving you a light squeeze. “No matter what. You’re stuck with me now, and I won’t let anything happen to you. That’s a promise.”
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uraharasandals · 3 months
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uhhh so I was giggling about aventurine with a friend and it kinda spiralled out of control so have this teehee
I tried to make them hate fuck the whole time but I got stuck so this ended up being slightly...healthy? (I know, shocking for me) But I'm excited for Ratio to drop and honestly Aventurine too
Main source of inspiration: Aventurine looks like a power bottom
pairing :: dr. ratio x aventurine word count :: 1.4k warnings :: r18/nsfw content (minors don't interact pls), hate-fucking, unprotected sex, mild ooc ratio, written before 1.6 update
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CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE? (NO, BUT YOU DID)
“Not so proud of ourselves now, are we?” There it is again, that absolute shit-eating grin that Ratio itches to slap off his face, that remains plastered all over his fine features despite being pinned down like a butterfly to a board, and dissected as much under his hands. And yet. “Come on, don't be shy, say something. Veritas.”
A delicious shiver runs down his spine as Aventurine speaks again, and Ratio swallows. It's the way his name rolls off the blonde's tongue, almost like honey - except it's dangerous, obviously a trap. Velvet-laced knives, mayhaps. 
Beauty with a jagged edge, like the stone he takes the name of for his pseudonym.
Ratio swallows again, then hisses as Aventurine tightens around his cock, shoved deep into him. “Don't do that.” He tries to sound authoritative, but it comes off weak, trembling. Aventurine takes it as a cue to clench again, making him let out a small gasp in spite of himself. 
“Do what?” The blonde tilts his head at him, almost innocently, as if he wasn't underneath him and flushed with arousal. “You need to be clear, Veritas.”
There it is. That wretched enunciation of his name, dragging through his lips. And was he hallucinating, or did that bastard moan it? 
Saliva runs dry in his mouth, leaving him nothing to swallow the third time.
Aventurine notices his silence, and chuckles. He slides his fingers into the dark purple locks curling against the base of his skull and pulls, slotting their mouths together. Ratio lets him have the kiss, their lips moulding together naturally and more like two men in love and less at each other’s throats (though one could argue that is attractive in its own right), and when Aventurine pulls away, there's almost a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, clarity in the hazy lavender. “I can ride you, if you’d like.” 
And there it is, his way of checking in – despite the nature of the offer, there was no saccharine seductiveness in the statement, only a matter-of-fact tone laying an invitation on the table. In a way, it’s strangely reassuring, how he doesn’t treat him as something fragile or like glass, how he maintains the snake-like hold on him even though they’re on bed, skin against skin, laid bare open. It makes the real Aventurine less attainable, which is good. That means he is still allowed the leisure of concealing his true emotions behind a mask, because despite the vulnerability, that is one thing he refuses to do, the one agreement he made to himself. 
It keeps things casual, distanced. With an air of fantasy surrounding it, almost as if he was playing make-believe. 
“Tempting.” Ratio regains his footing on the edge, smirking down at him. “But I think I’d like to try something else today.” He rolls his hips forwards experimentally, and relishes on the widening of Aventurine’s eyes as he gasps, a delicious shiver running through his entire body. “Especially since a certain someone decided to be so generous today.” 
Aventurine shrugs, nonchalance laced in the action, but his flushed features – likely from arousal – makes it hard to believe, especially with the sultry glance still evident behind the long golden lashes. “Suit yourself. Don’t cry about it afterwards, though.”
Ratio scoffs, hooking a hand around his pale thigh, before arranging his leg so it props on his shoulder, stretching him open further. “Don’t worry. The only person who’s going to cry tonight is you.”
“Oh, going to scold me like one of your students, are you, Doctor?”
Before Aventurine can get another word in, he responds by leaning in, pressing his lips against the other man’s mouth so he could shut up, for Aeon’s sake. The yapping coming out of him quickly turns into a series of delightful moans, the blonde gasping and whimpering as Veritas fucks him, slamming his hips against the other’s and hitting that spot inside of Aventurine that makes him make those pretty noises again, over and over until his cock leaks precum. He smirks in appreciation as the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room, more slick forming between them as his cock leaks more precum, almost as if he wants to fill Aventurine up.
“Why, does that turn you on?” He asks, almost in disbelief, as he continues to pound into Aventurine’s hole, but the other man was already gone in the throes of his own pleasure, and Ratio finds himself mesmerised by the display in front of him as he pants, blonde hair sprawled across the pillow like a halo. He looks like an angel this way – he thinks to himself – except that is true only in the literal sense of the word, but the deception is easier to fall for when he's like this, spread open on sheets and without his flamboyance, just himself. And right now, this view is only for Ratio's eyes, which only makes him more aroused. “Talk to me, Aventurine,” Ratio taunts, relishing in how easily the man underneath him is being taken apart. “Do you like this?” 
The blonde nods, gasping as he hits his prostate again. “Feels good…more, please. More, Veritas – “
“Well, since you’re asking so nicely – “ With a small grunt, he slams back in again, stretching his hole further. Aventurine turns his neck as he moans, trying to squirm away from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, but a firm grip on his wrist against the headboard stops him from escaping, and he whines. Ratio could feel his cock throbbing harder, and impulsively — against his own logical instincts, frankly – he surges forward, biting roughly on the pristinely pale expanse of skin on Aventurine’s neck. 
The blonde moans loudly again as his teeth grazes on the skin, catching and surely leaving marks. For a moment Ratio loses control of himself, overcome with the thought of making Aventurine his own, and nothing but his own, attacking his neck with renewed fervour. The blonde squeezes his eyes shut, and with a sense of satisfaction, Ratio notices moisture gathering on his eyelids, and he decides to lean up to kiss them away. Aventurine hisses at the contact, but does not push him away, merely guiding his hand to his own cock, and Ratio complies. He silently relishes in the pretty noises that Aventurine makes in response to the additional stimulation. “I - I’m close, Veritas, I’m close - ”
“Good.” Ratio gasps. “Cum for me.” He watches as the blonde shudders, mewling as he comes undone, white spurting all over his fingers as the scholar continues to stroke, his hole fluttering around his cock, milking him. A hoarse groan escapes his lips as Ratio’s hips stutter, fucking him through his orgasm. He is briefly aware of how slender and small Aventurine is underneath him, shaking from the aftershocks and whimpering from the overstimulation as he continues to thrust into the heat. “Hold on – ”
Ratio ignores the desperate sounds coming out of Aventurine as he chases his own high, slamming his cock into his hole again and again until he groans, the pleasure causing stars to dance in the back of his eyelids as he buries his face into Aventurine’s neck, moaning against the sweat-drenched skin. He’s briefly aware of his cum spilling out around his cock, soiling the sheets underneath, and the thought fuck, we have to change them dances across his mind before Aventurine’s scent demands his focus again, and then it’s Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine all over again.
For a moment, the room is silent as they slowly come down from their highs, though broken as Aventurine pulls him down for another kiss, this time sloppy and wet. Ratio returns it hungrily, letting the blonde nip and lick at his lips greedily, almost to devour him. “You taste good,” Aventurine manages to say, finally catching his breath.
Ratio scoffs, but it’s all in good nature. “First time?” 
Immediately, the blissed expression on the blonde’s face drops, and he almost laughs. Aventurine is like a cat at times, Ratio thinks to himself, the way he pulls away and gets affectionate completely at random intervals, and right now it’s one of those times as he bites on the inside of his wrist as some sort of comeback, successfully making him wince out of surprise. Aventurine grins, looking like a cat who just finished a bowlful of cream.
“Cat got your tongue?” Ratio prompts, enjoying teasing Aventurine when he’s fucked out like this, the only time his flowery language doesn’t make an appearance.
“No, but you did,” is the only warning as the blonde pulls him down for another kiss again, this time slightly more gentle as he grins against his lips.
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ironstrange1991 · 1 year
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Intoxicated part II
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Kinktober Day 20: Boundage, edging, orgasm denial with Supreme Strange
+18 Smut MDNI
Word Count: 1,7k
A/N: You can read the part one of this story here.
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If Stephen thought you'd let go of what he did to you by pinning you to the bed and denying you your pleasure, he was dead wrong. You had planned everything for that night and even convinced Mordo to leave the handcuffs with you for a few more days by lying that you thought it best to run some tests to which he agreed without question. You had told Stephen that you needed his help with an important business matter and convinced him to leave the Sanctum in Mordo's care to meet you at your apartment.
If there was one thing you were sure was that you were dramatic and vindictive as much as Stephen was arrogant and narcissistic, the combination of all these factors was at least interesting and in some cases destructive.
You made a point of preparing the environment for what you had planned, you lit some candles around the room, some of them scented, placed a chair strategically at the foot of the bed and then took a shower making sure to apply the body oil that Stephen loved and wore nothing but a long black sheer nightgown and tiny panties, your hair pulled back in a ponytail because you didn't want it getting in the way of your unholy activities.
Stephen arrived around 8pm and you heard the sounds of his boots walking down the hall before the incisor knocked on the door.
When you opened the door a smirk on his lips revealed that he understood everything the way you expected him to understand "You took your time"
He nodded. "If I had known that this was the issue you needed my help with I would have rushed."
You shook your head opening the door wider for him to enter. He took a good look around and then looked you up and down smiling "You look gorgeous"
You closed the door behind him, your heart racing in your chest, but you tried to keep up the appearances "You're not bad either" He walked slowly to the chair, you couldn't see his face but you knew there was a question mark in his expressions.
"I met your father downstairs in the lobby, as you can imagine he didn't look happy to see me"
You disguised it by opening the drawer and taking the handcuffs and hiding them behind your back. You walked up to him and wrapped an arm around his waist, reaching for his hand as you stood on tiptoe to kiss his shoulder. "I don't want to talk about my father tonight"
He hummed satisfied lacing his fingers through yours and letting you pull his hand back "And what exactly do you want to talk about tonight?" There was an excitement in his voice that was almost innocent. You acted faster than you thought you could. In a few seconds you managed to place the handcuff on his wrist and shoved him into the chair. Before he had time to react you closed the cuff on his other wrist leaving him strapped to the chair.
"Oh honey you know this won't work for me" He said sounding extremely arrogant, but the smirk on his lips soon dissolved into an annoyed frown when he realized you had used a specific handcuff.
You couldn’t contain a victorious smile.
"What do you think you're doing?" He snapped angrily fighting the handcuffs.
"How about we talk about how you treated me yesterday? You felt so good seeing me trapped like that didn't you? Making me beg for you? Is that what you like Stephen?" He sighed heavily "Honey, that was just a joke and in the end I gave you exactly what you wanted, didn't I?"
You had to stop yourself from slapping him, how could he be so arrogant even in that situation? "Well, you'll get what you want too Stephen, just not in the way you imagined."
He groaned annoyed "Let me go y/n, now"
You shook your head "Stephen you're not in a position to demand anything right now." You bent down to kiss his cheek "You had your fun yesterday, I just want mine"
You took your hand to his hip unbuckling his belt and holding his pants "Come on, help me take this off"
"You're going to regret this" He threatened you, but lifted his hips so you could take his pants and underwear off. You took off his shoes and finished undressing him from the waist down.
"I don't think so, Stephen" You replied with a mischievous smile staring at his cock which was half hard even though he was mad at you. You got down on your knees and kissed the base of his cock and then licked from the base to the the tip lightly sucking his frenulum. He hissed angrily, but his cock responded with a twitch.
"Look at that, you might be mad at me Stephen, but your cock is loving every second of it." You held him in your hand jerking him fast and hard making him extremely hard for you as he threw his head back grunting with pleasure and rage.
You got up and walked away to which he angrily replied "Where do you think you're going, come back here y/n, this is no fun" You went to the bedside table and opened one of the drawers taking the box you had placed there in the morning and then came back "I'm here honey, I'm not going anywhere until I get what I want."
His eyes widened as he saw you take a small black rubber circle out of the box. "Where do you think you're going to put this?" You bit your bottom lip "On you, silly, where else would it be?" You took his cock in your hand giving a couple of jerks and then placed the object on your lips while opening a bottle of lube pouring some of the liquid on his cock and spreading it with both hands at which he moaned, all kinds of profanity escaping through his lips.
"There you go, all nice and wet, now let's see if this fits" You did exactly as you saw in the instructional video you watched, believe it or not, you set yourself up for your revenge and you couldn't wait to taste it. When the balls and cock were tightly tied he looked extremely bigger, the veins sticking out from the constriction, the head a bright pink "You look so nice all tied up like that, Steph, look how hard you are desperately needing my touch. "
Stephen's blue eyes were dark with desire, but mostly with anger, for someone who never let go of control, finding himself in that position was a more than efficient punishment and you might as well ride him and get over with that, but you weren't feeling so merciful that day.
"Y/n, stop it, let me make love to you" You knew all that condescension wouldn't last and you weren't ready to give in. You held him in your hand stroking him fast as he moaned loudly "Fuck, this is so..."
You grinned "Even though I would love to make love to you Stephen, this isn't for me, it's for you. It's all about you today, honey. Isn't that how you like it?" You increased your pace, a loud and wet noise resounding in the silent room as your hand slid deftly down his length making him clench his thigh muscles and grit his teeth trying to suppress the moans "Let it go, honey, just surrender to the feeling. Do it for me, I know you can do it."
The loud groan escaped his lips "Fuck it feels so good honey, you're gonna make me cum" You could feel his cock pulsing in your hand, a couple of jerks more and he would come and you wanted just that, taking him to the verge of orgasm.
 "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck..." and then you stopped.
An irritated grunt escaped his lips "Why did you stop?"
"You're not going to come, Stephen, unless you apologize for what you did yesterday?"
He forced his hands against the handcuffs, moving angrily which caused the smile on your lips to widen and turn into a grin. "If that's what you want, I guarantee I won't give in"
You grabbed his cock jerking him hard and fast making him twitch, jaw tight and then stopped again.
"You fucking little bitch" He spat out the words which made you move on to the next step of his punishment. "You have such a beautiful mouth Stephen, I love it when you use it to suck my cunt but you also love to use it to make me sad" You lowered your panties taking them off slowly and then stuck them in his mouth, he gave you an intimidating look "Now we can pick up where we left off"
You grabbed him back stroking him slowly and then put him in your mouth sucking quickly as he groaned loudly against the gag, his cock pulsing in your mouth, you gave a few more jerks and then stopped watching his cock throbbing.
You continued with your ministrations, bringing him to the brink of orgasm only to deny it and then repeating it over and over until Stephen's eyes were red with tears he refused to shed.
He tried to say something and you gave in, freeing his mouth "Ok honey, what do you want to say?"
"I'm gonna fucking regret this…” He gave a dramatic sigh  “Honey I'm sorry, I know sometimes I can be...difficult..."
"Difficult?" You interrupted him raising an eyebrow.
"But I love you, you know that, I love you more than anything"
You sighed "You're only saying that because you want to cum"
He nervously chuckled "I do, for fuck's sake I need to, but that's not all honey, you know it very well"
You touched his face and then jerked him fast and hard without breaking eye contact. He groaned loudly when you stopped, but his cock twitched spurting his cum all over his abs. "There you go Stephen, I think you learned your lesson."
You untied him and took the handcuffs off. He kept sitting looking at you "You're going to be the death of me" He muttered.
You wrapped your legs around his thighs and sat on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck "I think we're even now"
He chuckled nervously touching your face "I should fucking kill you now"
You smirked "You cant live without me Stephen"
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lunarscaled · 6 months
Note
4. From Marko post a fight uwu
FUCKED UP KISSES
4. a  bloody  kiss.
-> A constant sign of all that they lack, they can't beat him in a fight even when they try, try, try again. What was it now---the sixth time? The ninth? How many times had they gone for his jugular and his hamstring and the backs of his calves and still come up short only for him to laugh it off and ridicule them? Their knuckles are split from hitting walls instead of bodies, gripping the hilt of the blade a little too tight when they pivot their foot to sink it into his ribs, only to find that his whole body splits open like a maw; their arm caught in the fly trap as he hisses some empty salacious comment again about being inside him---just something to rattle their head around more and no real interest behind it. They yank on the void and their arm comes loose at the cost of gashes where all his teeth had sunk in. They look like they stuck their hands in a paper shredder at this point with how red drooled from them, and their lungs burn on every inhale through their split mouth, their nose crunched a mottled purple as it bleeds over their lips in trails. He spits out their knife too far for them to pick up without making a dash for it, and the long tense seconds where he is loose limbed but ready as Lyric's fingers twitch to retrieve their weapon burn against their skin; they break for it, making as little lead with their body as they can to not give away the second they sprint, but he is a well-honed predator in his own right. They feel one foot nearly kicked out from under them with the force of his gangly shape slamming into their torso, shoving all of them back against a crumbling brick wall as their heels skid and skitter to keep their balance.
"Tsch--- ---!"
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-> He has a fist wound into the fabric of their sweatshirt as one of their hands claws at his wrist, the other coming up to seize his throat and squeeze. His smile is bordering on uncanny and smug as he fakes a wheezy breath under their grip, his own hands hauling them further up the wall until their toes are barely touching the ground, balancing precariously if they don't want to be at his whims. All they can smell ( and they can barely smell at this point, all the tender swelling of the broken cartilage setting in ) is blood around them; almost all theirs, they're sure. They remember him warning them how dangerous his blood can be, and while they thought they had been cautious to not touch any, they're not positive. And they aren't sure if it goes both ways---if him ingesting their blood counts. ( they put more pressure on his throat. he leans in closer, until his chest has about as much pressure on them as his grip does, and they wonder if he thinks it's fun to crowd their space. ) They peel their split lips back to growl at him, reddened teeth on display, and his eyes watch without a hint of fear. One hand moves to grip their jaw in a place it's become sore and it makes them hiss, relent like a scolded cat, and he coos something obnoxious when his thumb presses into a bitten corner. They're all tense even when he moves, no hiding how he leans down to press his grin to the tight seam of their mouth, nowhere to go but back further against the wall. The low growling in their chest can be felt as he puts pressure on their sore spots again, their breathing stifled with their nose broken in, and eventually they have to open their mouth enough to breathe, and that is his chance to slide his tongue over their bloodied teeth ( and they can't bite down because of the risk, have to stay careful and pliant even when everything tastes like iron and not enough air. )
-> There's no passion to it. No consuming want or goal like fumbling bodies in a club. It feels calculated, inquisitive, like a capricious cat testing the borders of your tolerance. He angles their head with his hand in a better position despite how blood smears on his mouth, and between their much-needed quick inhales and his aggressive mouth they feel dizzy, their chest bubbling with the need to cough or breathe harder, or something to get more air in them. They're still balancing on their tiptoes just to stay still, feet shifting by centimeters to keep them from dropping in his hand, and every moment they're holding still is a moment their adrenaline is dropping and they feel unstable and tired. The hand on their jaw shifts to hook his thumb into the soft of their cheek and over their molars, pushing down until they open up for him, deep breaths to regain their sanity and stop from feeling ditzy. He sees the bite marks on their own tongue from where their teeth snapped down on a hard punch and grotesquely smoothes his own over it ( the action makes them jerk a little in his grip, breathing faltering. heat is pink in their face even though they don't want it to be. fucking demon is messing with them. ) He pulls back while still holding their jaw open like that, and Lyric bares their back teeth down on the knuckle joint of his thumb, wet growling turned hiss by the intrusion.
"A'th'ole."
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Roy Chester
As requested by @thisbibliomaniac: to hear is to obey
Word count: 3219
Fandom: Roy Chester, Light’verse, original fiction
Chapter One: The Prison
In the shadows of the mountain squatted the brick and concrete governor’s prison with its barred windows and soot-covered doors. Despite its low stature, it felt as if it loomed over the buildings around it, a menacing reminder of what happens to those who dare to dissent. When the sun rose every morning, the blackened walls seemed to suck the light and darken the whole street that ran toward it. At night, when the moans of the unfortunates within it rose up, cityfolk whispered that the ghosts of prisoners long dead had returned to haunt it.
But it was evening now and the sun, hovering near the horizon, sent a warm, golden glow over the brick that made it almost glow. The whole street was brightened by the light reflecting off the puddles that gathered between the cobblestones from that afternoon’s rain. The lone guard who stood at the prison’s entrance relaxed from his ramrod-stiff posture and checked his watch, matching its time to the clanging bells that sounded from the nearby cathedral. Soon the night guard would come to relieve him and he would be free to return to his home for a hearty dinner and a welcome hug from his family. 
If he had chanced to glance up, he would have noticed the broad figure that slipped from one building’s shadow to the next, leaping puddles with a grace that belied a body weighing over fourteen stone, until it vanished soundlessly into the alley beside the prison.
The figure wore a hood, a long coat made of weathered leather, and a dark red scarf over its face. Once safe in the darkness of the alley, it pulled the mask down to reveal an angular face with high cheekbones and several days worth of scruff on his chin. His nose had been broken once or twice and now had a defined bump, and a scraggly scar traced its way from his right temple to the corner of his mouth.
He called himself Roy Chester. He didn’t know if it was his birth name, but it was the name he put on all of his papers (official or otherwise), and he answered to no other. He appeared to be mid-twenties, though he didn’t know his precise age, and he dealt in a very specific kind of business.
From one of the many inner pockets of his coat, he pulled out a lock-pickers kit and set to work on a side-door. He declined to wear gloves in order to allow him the precision necessary to handle the delicate tools, and in a moment the lock clicked open.
The door slid open on well-oiled hinges. Roy shoved his heavy booted foot through the crack first to test for any traps in the floor that might be triggered by his weight. When he found none, he pushed the door fully open and stepped inside. The door glided shut behind him, cutting off the light from the alley behind.
He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden dimness. The only light came from several small red sconces near the edge of the ceiling. He stood in a long corridor lined with doors that probably led to small offices and storerooms. Fifty yards in front of him was a guard station in the shape of a semicircle. There were no guards present.
Curious, he loped up to the guard station. It looked as if several people had been in the middle of filing that day’s paperwork and had left in a great hurry. Ink lay fresh on more than one document, and a cup of what he assumed to be coffee on the head guard’s desk was still warm.
He took a peek inside one of the storerooms and noted that several tin buckets had their lids flipped open. Curious, he stepped in and peered around in the halflight. His jacket caught the edge of a bucket and tipped it forward, sending a grainy powder cascading over the floor. He jumped back in case it turned out to be enchanted, but nothing happened. It annoyed him to leave a mess, but cleaning the jail was not his business, so he went back to the guard station. 
He knelt and brushed his fingertips over the floor around the chairs, searching for the thin edge that would indicate the trap door. Softly, gently, scraping his nails across the floor until—ah! He bumped a lever by accident and a portion of the wooden floor shifted up. It was an easy thing to heft it open one handed; he stared down a long, winding staircase that led into the cells below.
Dark and cold it looked. Very unwelcoming. He tested the first step just to make sure nothing would shoot out from the walls and grab his ankles, or fire darts thick enough to penetrate his coat, and then he descended.
The sound of his footsteps echoing off the stone was the only sound for a long time. The staircase wound around and around in dizzyingly tight circles, and it made the tiny red sconces blur in the corners of his eyes. He tripped on more than one step and almost sent himself hurtling toward the bottom at a speed that would have snapped a few ankles, if not broken his neck. Each time he caught himself with his hands braced on either side of the stairwell and took a moment to breathe. His hands were scraped raw by the time he came to the bottom, and he sucked a sore knuckle thoughtfully as he considered his next move.
The corridor stretched out on either side of him for what looked like miles. He dug into another inner pocket and produced a map. The darkness, broken only by pale red lights at regular intervals down the corridor, forced him to edge closer to the walls in order to see. He traced a grubby finger down the map, brow furrowed, and then looked to his left and took off at a fast trot, footsteps echoing dully in the damp air.
It curved unexpectedly in several places, doubtless designed with the intent to confuse escaping prisoners. He lost his way a few times and had to consult the map and backtrack. Every cell door he passed had a number engraved on it, and these he inspected with particular care, tracing his fingers around the metal grooves.
So intently did he focus on his task that he didn’t hear the footsteps sidling up behind him or the whistling of a net as it flew through the air. It hit him square in the back and he went down with a startled curse. The charms on the edges of the net activated as soon as they touched the floor, pinning him like a beetle to a card.
“Hey! Hello?” He shouted. “Get this off of me!”
“Hello yourself,” a voice replied. Several others snickered.
Roy craned his neck up as far as it could go and saw four shadows materialize out of the gloom. The fifth stepped up from behind him. All five wore long cloaks dyed a vibrant dark blue: the mark of a Ringleader’s personal guard.
His stomach sank. The Ringleaders and their respective Rings were involved in trafficking of various illegal items: drugs, animals, currency, occasionally people. Blue cloaks meant the Ringleader dealt in narcotics.
What the hell was a narcotics dealer doing down here?
“Is that… Roy Chester?” A sixth person stepped forward and Roy craned his neck around to see her.
She wore a tight-fitting gown that shimmered in the dim light and high-heeled boots that tapped impatiently on the stone floor. What little he could make out of her face was very pale and seemed to have been slashed sideways with some horrible scar. When she spoke again, he realized she had smothered her mouth in dark lipstick.
“Well well.” She stretched her lips into a hideous grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”
He grinned back at her as much as the crick in his neck allowed. “Should I know you?”
“You don’t?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m hurt. Surely you’ve heard of the Blue Ring’s Anastasia Shlako? After all—“ she knelt, pulled his hood off, and gripped his chin to tip it appraisingly from side to side, “—we deal in the same kind of merchandise.”
Roy grimaced. “I’m a smuggler, not a drug dealer. Also your hands are cold.”
The grin hardened. “You think you’re funny, don’t you.” Anastasia switched her grip to dig her fingers into his short hair and yanked.
Roy yelped. “I’m hilarious! And you’re hurting me! What’s your problem?”
“My problem is you. I’m here on official business and you’re blundering around triggering the wards on every single door you touch. What the hell are you doing down here?” Her grin was gone now; her teeth gleamed white against her black lips.
“I was—sent to find—something!” Roy attempted to tug himself free, but Anastasia dug her fingers in tighter. “Ow! Seriously?”
“Didn’t you notice all the lights upstairs had turned red?” At his blank stare, Anastasia groaned in despair. “Because we deactivated the wards after knocking out the guards. You should have smelled it.”
Roy gave a hapless shrug, which was exceedingly awkward due to his shoulders being pressed against the floor. Broken magic had an acrid, burnt scent to it, like charred meat or fried hair. But Roy could not smell it.
“This is a waste of time, “Anastasia decided. She released Roy’s hair and stood. “Let’s lock him in one of the cells and finish up before the auxiliary guards arrive.”
One of the others snapped their fingers and the net’s weight loosened around him. Roy struggled on to his hands and knees, but when he tried to stand, two sets of hands grabbed him on the shoulders of his coat and hauled him forward so quickly he couldn’t get his feet under him. He tried to lash out with his arms but couldn’t get the leverage to land any substantial hits. A door creaked open in front of them and his knees banged painfully against the threshold as they thrust him inside. The door slammed shut before he could turn to protest.
It was cold—he noticed that immediately: cold and far more damp than the rest of the prison. He realized after a moment of moving his hands over the floor that it was an isolation cell.
And it was occupied.
“Hello?” The voice that spoke was a young man’s voice, all of sixteen years old.
“Hi.” Roy moved toward it slowly, unable to see in the darkness. The room was cast in absolute blackness, but the clanking of chains indicated where he should go. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” The chains rattled. “What day is it?”
“Five days since you disappeared.” Cold metal brushed his fingertips and he followed the chain link up to the cuffs, then removed his lockpicking kit and set to work. His scraped fingers throbbed from the effort. “Your father sent me to get you, Casper.”
“Oh did he.”
“He wants his key back.”
“What a pity.” Casper’s tone was flat.
Roy grunted. “One second, I’ve almost got it—there!” The cuffs clicked open and fell to the floor with a thunk. “He’s very worried, by the way.”
“Ah. I expected as much.” Casper sounded bored rather than concerned. “I could have gotten out of here on my own eventually.”
“But what would be the fun in that?” Roy replied.
“You would think that. And the ones who tossed you in here? Who are they?”
“Blue Ring.”
Casper made a noise of disgust. “Seriously? What’s this city coming to that drug dealers feel safe enough to roam free in our streets?”
“Ask your father.” Roy finished with the ankle cuffs and stood up, wincing at the pain in his knees. “Isn’t he the governor?”
“Governor of idiots.” Casper snorted. “You should see those merchants on the council. Not a single brain cell between them.” He stamped his feet and swung his arms to get the feeling back into his limbs. “Let’s get out of here before the guards find us.”
The door proved difficult to open from the inside in the dark, but Roy managed it despite his raw fingertips. He poked his head into the corridor and looked up and down. The lights were still red, which meant the guards could arrive at any moment. His companion poked his head up underneath Roy’s arm and then shoved his way out.
“It’s clear. I know a way out the back.”
“I know it too,” Roy said, glancing over his shoulder before following. “The old sewer one, right?”
“Yes—wait!”
They both froze. Roy strained his ears, but all he could hear was the other’s searching breaths.
“Something’s wrong,” Casper declared. “Scent’s off, and it’s not the broken wards.”
Roy hummed an agreement. He could not smell it himself, but he trusted Casper’s instincts when it came to magic.
“I can’t—“ Casper paused, sniffing tentatively. “Can’t quite put my nose to it.” He stepped around in a circle, scenting the air from all directions. “Never mind; it’s too far away to affect us.”
“They broke a lot of wards upstairs,” Roy pointed out. “Maybe one of them was malfunctioning.”
“As if you would know,” Casper said brusquely.
Roy shrugged. He had been unable to smell things for years; the fact no longer bothered him. Other people, both regular civilians and those in his line of work, sometimes acted as if he were broken in some way, but Roy had figured that if he could survive this long without one of his senses, he was doing just fine.
Casper set off down the corridor with renewed vigor and Roy trotted after him. His knees still stung, but he could keep up without issue. Casper was a good head shorter than him and not given to great feats of athleticism in his spare time.
They came to the end of the corridor and found themselves at a low, narrow door that was rusted shut from the ever-present damp. Roy immediately bent down with a wince for his knees to work it open. He had to pry at it with tools ill-suited to the job, and eventually wrenched it open with brute force that made his fingers sing with distress. It sent a horrible grating sound echoing through down the hall, and Casper rocked from side to side in agitation.
"Can’t you move faster? They'll be here soon!"
Roy shot him a glare over his shoulder as he tossed the door aside but said nothing. Casper would not have any sympathy for the state of his knees.
They peered inside the dark, uninviting tunnel. It stood three feet high and reached just wide enough for Roy's shoulders, jacket and all, to fit in.
"That's gonna be tight," he said.
Casper snorted. "Don't tell me you're claustrophobic."
"Not yet," Roy returned cheerfully. "That might change about halfway through."
Casper went in first.
It was pitch black and disturbingly slimy. Roy tried not to think of what he was touching with his hands and knees as he scrambled after the sound of Casper's grunts and curses. He knew the tunnel would end after several hundred feet with a drop down into the sewer line that ran beneath the prison, and that it had once been used to dump the portable privies from the prisoners’ cells. Fortunately it had been years since the tunnel had been utilized for this purpose, though that didn’t ease his mind when it came out the slop sliding through his sore fingers and soaking into his pants. It was likely mildew, but it would be hard to wash out all the same.
“And I just got this jacket laundered, too,” he lamented aloud.
“Quit whining,” Casper’s voice hissed from in front. “I was locked in that cell for days by those incompetent idiots we call jailers. Did they even think to bring me something to eat that entire time? Hell no! I had to survive on that bag of nuts I had hidden in my shirt when they caught me!”
They reached the end of the tunnel. Casper swung himself down into the sewer line and onto the narrow, rail-less walkway that ran alongside the main stream. There was enough light down here for Roy to see the disgusted wrinkle in his forehead as he inhaled the stench.
“Lucky you,” Casper muttered through both hands as Roy, blissfully unaffected, swung down beside him.
“Sorry,” Roy replied. “I can’t help being perfect.”
“Shut up.”
They edged their way carefully down the catwalk. Roy was almost too big for it and nearly slipped into the stream once. He caught himself by bracing against the wall on the other side, momentarily suspending himself over the flow with his hands screaming in protest.
“I thought you said you were perfect,” Casper snapped.
“It’s hard being perfect when you’re built like a house,” Roy pointed out. He righted himself and they continued on to the end of the shaft.
They reached the drop off to the drainage trench and stopped to work another grate out. Roy shoved his way through first, banging his knees yet again on an unseen stoop in the dark, and Casper squeezed through after him. As he stood, a sharp crack echoed down the shaft behind them, and then a gently ominous boom.
“Did you feel that?” Casper asked.
“In my bones. You think—?”
A heavier, longer boom rumbled above them.
Casper swore. Roy braced himself against the stone wall.
“That felt like an explosion.”
“That was!” Casper scampered forward and Roy loped after him. “Those idiots must have lit up the powder store in the guard room!”
“Oh.” Roy paused mid-stride and tapped his forehead. “I think I spilled some of it earlier.”
“What? Why?”
He shrugged. “Accident. Didn’t realize what it was.”
“It smells like gunpowder!”
“I’m sorry?”
“Idiot!”
They stumbled out into open air and found themselves in a small field nestled in the shadow of the mountain that overlooked the prison. Casper whirled around to observe the city above them and whistled appreciatively. Clouds of smoke were writhing up and away, outlined against the orange-streaked sky. The blackened walls of the prison were broken and jagged due to the roof collapsing in. The shouts of firemen and policemen and the trampling of frantic feet drifted down from the hill toward them. Casper clapped his hands and cackled.
“I’ll admit it,” he said. “You are perfect.”
“Oh?” Roy waggled his eyebrows.
“Perfectly idiotic.” Casper whirled and slapped his pockets. “I have the key, by the way. The one for my father’s office.”
“Excellent.” Roy held out his hand, palm up. “I’ll take that off your hands.”
Casper plunked it down. Roy winced. “Now I’m headed for the inn. My father can pick me up there.” He snapped his fingers, the action of a man accustomed to being heeded. “And remember: this never happened. You have no idea where the key is.”
Roy crossed his heart. “Of course.”
Casper disappeared into the darkness of the mountain pass and Roy, patting his pocket to check that the key was secure, took off in the opposite direction toward the highway.
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angrythingstarlight · 3 years
Note
I'm not even remotely sorry for this 🤣. But this is how Bill greets you when you come home 😂😏
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Pairing: Bill (chris) x Reader
Warnings: All of them (mostly oral and that mustache touching your poor innocent cl*t) . Crack fic.
A/N: .....sings you broke me first @thedarkplume......@the-soot-sprite please ignore this. Please for me.
****
Turning the key in the front door, you push it open with your hip and shake your umbrella a few times before snapping it shut. Wiping the stray cold raindrops off your face, you prop the umbrella in the corner, water pooling under it as you close the door with your foot.
"Welcome home baby," Bill suavely greets, sweeping his index finger across his mustache. "We missed you."
Your skin prickles and a shudder rattles across your shoulders. Taking a calming deep breath, you shrug off your coat and place it on the hook beside his oversized brown tweed jacket.
Placing your forehead on the wall, you count to ten as you toe off your heels. You stare at the crack in the plaster recalling the happier times before it arrived in your life. He made that jagged crack when you both stumbled in one night after he got recruited, both drunk off cheap beers and each other, not able to make it to the stairs before he was inside you.
But now it was here and you haven't touched him because it won't let you.
"C'mon baby, say something."
You turn your head fighting the urge to grimace. Bill is on the stairs, blocking your path to the guest room. You try to focus on his blue eyes, still so vibrant and stunning but you see it in your peripheral vision. You drop your head with a pained cry.
Bill sighs, "you have to accept us."
"I can't, its so-" you choke out, shoving your fist over your mouth, bile burning the back of your throat.
"Don't talk about him like that," Bill warns, the dull thud of his footsteps making your stomach plummet. "He's part of me now and you've promised to love me no matter what."
"I said through sickness and health, the pastor didn't say anything about that monstrosity on your lip." You look around the small hallway, quickly realizing that he's getting closer. You'll never make it to the kitchen, he's already a few feet away. Think, think, don't panic, don't panic. He's getting close, oh god don't panic.
You can run back outside. Yes. Run. Run.
You turn on your heel, squealing when he grabs your arm and pushes you into the wall. His hands slamming beside your head. He leans down close enough that you can see the lint clinging to the corner of his mustache.
"Bill please back up," you say, closing your eyes, you push at his chest. "I can feel it touching me." Your skin crawls when he takes a step closer, his bulge pressing into your belly. You had nightmares about this, being trapped by his mustache this is worse than you could have imagined.
Bill runs his thumb over the mustache, dislodging the lint. He looks at it with a small humph and flicks it away. "Not yet but you will."
He drops to his knees with a dull thud, muttering ouch at the impact. Before you can hiss out a that's what you get dumbass, your skirt is being flipped up. Don't panic, don't panic.
You slap at his hands moving up your thighs. Bill cranes his head back, "I know you're horny baby. I hear you at night trying to get yourself off but you cant. You miss my cock."
Your hands fall to your sides, A thick heavy silence filling the hallway, the door rattling as the storm outside rages on. Fuck. You do, fuck it you do, why does he have to be such a good fuck.
Bill raises a brow, "and I know you miss this," he wiggles his pink, very wide tongue at you.
Why are you attracted to men? Why do this to yourself?
He flattens his tongue making it even bigger and your pussy pulsates. You do, damn it, you do, he can do this thing with the tip of his tongue that has made you almost pass out but that was before it arrived.
"You're going to touch it and soak it," he promises, ignoring your dry heaves as you try not wretch, he parts your thighs with his large hands. "And then you're going to stop spiking my shampoo with nair."
"It was one time," you protest, your stomach flexing in when he runs his tongue over his top lip, the hairs swaying. You whine in disgust.
Bill stares up at you with a pointed look. "And see what happened," he gestures to his head. The short buzzcut haunts your dreams. Yeah, that was on you, at least he could hide behind his long hair but you had been overzealous with the nair and ended up losing his beautiful locks in the process.
"Now you're going to be a good girl and take this free mustache ride."
Before the bile can rise back up, your panties are twisted to the side and his nose is sliding through your folds. "You're wet baby," he hums into your pussy, "knew you wanted us."
"Oh god the fuck I am," you deny, sobbing as you push at his head. You immediately pull your hand back when you feel the grease in his locks smear across your palm.
"Ew, oh-" you gag as he licks up your pussy and his mustache bristles across your skin.
He tilts his head back, shame pools in your belly and claws up your spine, tears form in your eyes. His musta-, you close your eyes, bringing your arm across your lids. It's wet. Because you're-a broken sob breaks through your chest-you're wet.
"That's alright baby," he grins as your mascara streaks down your cheeks. "I can already smell you on him, I'm not even going to wash him anymore, your pussy is my new conditioner."
A loud wail of pure despair echos through the house. Bill dives back in, eating you out as if you were his last meal. Short firm licks, followed by long deep sucks that have your traitorous pussy throbbing and dripping over his face.
Sensations, a mix of pleasure and disgust warring in your belly. Pressure building as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, you're forced to put your hands in his hair, more tears spilling down.
Damn him and his talented tongue because you're so close to cumming despite trying to hold it back. Your lips pressed together to stamp down the moans in your throat.
Then he does the unthinkable.
He brushes his mustache over your swollen clit. Your gag is twisted by the moan, a choking sound ringing in your ears as the pressure bursts, a dam of shame you'll never be able to take back flooding your body as the coil snaps.
Your body jerking as your orgasm slams into you, waves of pleasure rocking you with each bump of his mustache on your bundle of nerves.
Bill pulls away, letting you sink to the floor as you cover your poor mound with your greasy hand. "Told ya you would like him,"
You lift your glossy eyes to his pleased ones and make a vow to chop it off in his sleep.
Bill shrugs, the fire brimming in your gaze making him even harder. "Oh and baby, you do anything to him and I'll grow a mullet."
Your face crumbles and you weep. Bill moves his lips up until his mustache is pushing into his nose and he inhales, a deep groan slipping through his mouth. "That's the good stuff right there."
756 notes · View notes
bump1nthen1ght · 3 years
Text
Dangerous Liaisons (Reader x Tentacle Monster)
Pairing: Male!Kitsune!Reader/Tentacle Monster
Genre: FWB, Dark Fantasy, Sado-Masochism
Warnings: 18+ content up ahead! Description of blood and cuts, Mentions of past dub-con/rape (none depicted), Mentions of past murder, Just some bad people y’all
Word Count: 1695 words
Summary: After one of your neighbor’s kidnapping goes awry, you decide to make up for his lost prey.
Request: hi! i fell in love with your tentacle write, now my absolute favorite, so i’m here to request another one if you don’t mind. for this could it be a male tentacle monster x kitsune male reader? and instead of being traditionally good natured, reader’s of a more dark/evil-esk nature, as well as open minded to whatever kinks. esp anything rough, sadistic, & bloody. Tyvm!!
The cave floor is cold, icy compared to the humid air of the summer day. Sweat beads at your shoulders and your temple as you walk in, the shade a nice relief from the setting sun. You thread your tail in between your fingers, eyes drifting to the drying pool of blood near your foot.
“Another one bit the dust, huh?”
A deep gurgling sound crawls through the dark at the center of the cave. The looming stalactites and pitch-black emptiness might have scared away any nearby travelers or the mortals of the village, but you know what hides here; It’s not that scary.
To you, anyway.
“No….escaped.”
You roll your eyes, walking deeper inside until you see the familiar form of your pitiful neighbor.
He isn’t terribly damaged, only one long scratch running up one of his tentacles. It’s one of his larger ones, so the poor little morsel he had captured must have shocked him enough to run away and avoid any of the other tendrils.
“Tch, figures.” You chide, kicking a rock his way. “Seems you’ll have to move caves again. There will be adventurers here by tomorrow morning to kill you.” You brush off the dust from a nearby boulder, plopping your butt on it as he moans in pain. “This is what you get, Nio. You got too greedy, kidnapping mortals to partake in your ‘fun’”
A lone tentacle throws a pebble at you, but you dodge. A set of golden eyes peers out from the mass of limbs, furrowed in anxiety. You had only seen the form he used to lure his ‘playmates’ a couple of times; It resembled a handsome young man, only entirely purple, with shiny skin and placating smile. It was just tall enough to peek out from the cave and attract any wanderers, coming close enough to be snatched up by his tentacles, stolen away for his sick fantasies.
“Besides,” You click your teeth, “They break too easily. How many have you gone through now, six? Seven?”
“.....Nine.” Nio hisses, rubbing soothingly over his slowly-healing wound.
“See? Insatiable, you are. It’s not a very respectable look, you know.” You stand up from your seat, sauntering over to where Nio huddles in the corner. You rub your neck, feeling the sweat pooled at the base, and your robe falls down to reveal your shoulder. Nio’s eye’s flit from your exposed skin to your flicking tail. A lone tentacle, dripping with a viscous ooze, slowly wraps around your ankle. You chuckle, the damp air slowly reeking of Nio’s pheromones.
“But it’s your lucky day.” You undo the strap of your robe, letting it fall down your chest and exposing your form to Nio’s greedy eyes. “Because I’m a little insatiable too.”
Nio’s pupils blow out in excitement, his tentacles shifting as he slowly reveals his form. The tentacle around your ankle begins to travel up your calf, leaving a trail of slime behind it. But you yank away your foot and stomp on the tip, Nio squealing in pain and jolting backward. You smile, his yipes music to your ears.
“Just because I’m giving you my time doesn’t mean you're the one in control, idiot.” You throw your robe to the side, slicking your hair back between your ears, “Now you can touch me.”
Two more tentacles approach your legs, far more cautious than before. But when they reach your legs, you allow them to fondle your calves and your thighs, that thick ooze making your skin light and tingly. You let out a long sigh as you let the slow-burning lust of Nio’s aphrodisiac slime run through your body. You don’t need a lot, but it’s a definite plus of these rendezvous the two of you have.
You walk forward, Nio’s hungry tentacles easily latching on to your soft skin. They skirt around your erogenous zones, knowing what punishment awaits if they do anything without your direct permission. But one tentacle craves the pain, and tentatively fondles your balls.
Your deep groan descends into a snarky chuckle, letting the tentacle press against your perineum and even prod at your asshole. But with quick precision you grab Nio’s wounded tentacle and dig one of your claws into his wound.
All of the tentacles around you shudder and tighten as Nio shreaks, but none of them detach, even as blood drips down your fingers and onto your palms. You pull out your thumb from Nio’s flesh, the tiny wound reopened from your prodding, and take a long lick up your wrist. Crimson stains your jaw and lips, smearing as you lick your lips from the taste. It’s iron-like, but just a little bit sweeter than mortals. It’s another plus of sleeping with Nio.
You relish in the taste, putting on a show of rubbing your bloody palm up and down your chest. Nio’s eyes squint in frustration, but they dart up and down the red trails left on your skin.
“That hurt?” Nio nods and you lick your lips once more. “Good-”
You’re left wheezing as the offending tentacle shoves itself past your asshole with no warning. Another tentacle wraps itself around the base of your cock and squeezes hard. You keel over from the sharp tension and fire that is stoked in your belly. You look down at the offending  tentacles with a sneer, but you can’t help the small moans that escape you as you’re stretched open.
“Oh, we’re playing that game h-huh?” You mutter, thrusting your hips into the tight, hot grip of the tentacle around your cock. That tingly sensation now buzzes across your shaft, the tentacle alternating between playing with your tip and holding your balls in a vice grip. But the hand you use to yank back his bleeding tentacle is swift, controlled.
Blood falls down the appendage in small rivulets, the wound slowly rehealing before you lick the tip. You let your tongue roll out of your mouth, licking up the tentacle like a frozen treat, just avoiding the open wound. Nio’s groans rumble through the cave floor and up your body. You sink your lower half into his grip, more tentacles coming to support (and grope) your ass and thighs.
Your hand squeezes Nio’s trapped tentacles, claws retracted, and coerce it further down your throat. Saliva and blood drips past your lips as it  goes even deeper, thrusting against the back of your throat. Droplets fall onto your hard cock, now covered in a mixture of Nio’s ooze and your pre-cum.
The tentacle in your ass has become sloppy, it’s pace haggard and quickly losing focus on your prostate. To kick it back into gear, you nip the tentacle in your mouth with your teeth, pulling it out completely before giving it a kiss.
“You’re so greedy, Nio. Isn’t this supposed to be a partnership?”
Nio growls, but you can see the burning lust in his eyes as they take over your debauched mouth. Your lips are bruised from the blowjob, your skin sweaty from the myriad of sensations attacking your body all at once. You kiss the tip of the tentacle again and give him a wink.
The tentacle inside your ass picks up speed, going even deeper than before and paying extra attention to your pleasure spot. You smirk, slowly reinserting the tentacle back in your mouth.
“Good boy.” You sputter, Nio’s tentacle hungrily forcing itself down your throat once more. It presses hard against your gag reflex, ooze spattering over your cheeks as it plunges in and out of your mouth, soon matching the tempo of the one inside you. With each jolt of pleasure running up and down your abdomen is another shuddering thrust into your mouth.
You take deep breaths, compensating for the thickness currently blocking your airways. Despite his roughness, you do feel Nio slip a tentacle back to the base of your tail, petting your fur with light touches as another one punishes your asshole.
Aww, what a softie.
You can feel a tightness beginning to cinch in your stomach, your cock weeping globs of pre-cum, spurred on and on by Nio’s aphrodisiac. The tentacles coveting your body thrash with abandon, shuddering as their movements become messier and messier. A tentacle presses up against your insides, barely leaving your asshole before pushing it back in with an uneven pace.
You moan, heading rolling backwards as you feel your climax approaching and your  muscles preparing for a big finish.
But right before you can approach that peak, a large tentacle wraps itself around your neck, and squeezes.
You barely hear Nio’s raucous moans as your throat constricts around his tentacle, the rubber band finally snapping as you orgasm. Your hips jerk into  Nio’s grip as ropes of cum spray across Nio’s body and up your navel. He is quick to lap it up, the tendrils soaking in it as the pet your skin.
Nio let's put another booming growl as hot liquid shoots up your asshole and down your throat, viscous and sweet like nectar. The heat feels like heaven against your sore muscles, dripping out  of your holes and down your skin as Nio finally pulls himself all the way out of you.
You collapse your body against the cave wall, sweat and cum coating your skin as you  slide down to your bottom, cringing from your ass’ sensitivity.
The air is thick, reeking of bodily fluids and sex. The pool of blood has long dried, barely leaving a dent on the cacophony of scents in the air.
After catching a breath, you stretch your arms upwards, craning your back before pushing yourself back to standing. You bend your neck too and fro, your tail lazily swinging behind you.
You approach Nio, still quivering from his climax, and grab your robe. You sling it over your shoulder and brush your hair back.
“I’d suggest you get going soon. We don’t want any stupid knights to come and ruin our fun, right?”
Nio gurgles, eyes drooping as he sinks back into his mass of tentacles, exhausted. You lean down and pat one of them.
“That's what I thought.”
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gubler-me-up · 3 years
Text
Eye of the Beholder
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Request: So u and Spence work together and u haven’t gotten together before. One day, the weekend after a tough case, he comes over to hang out only to find you all puffy and a mess. (Like 3 day old unwashed hair). He realizes why, emotions are revealed, and boom! s m u t
A/N: Thanks for the request, @bi-sub-spence! Not going to lie, this took me a minute to write because I wanted to fit every component in that you requested but had to modify some things to make it flow (had to dim the smut down a bit sorry it’s still a smut tho!!) I hope you enjoy it!
Couple: Spencer Reid/Plus!size fem reader
Category: Smut 
Content warning: Self-degradation, mention of a fire, mention of death, fingering, clit stimulation
Word count: 3.7k
——————–
You packed up your things to get ready to leave the bureau for the weekend. You felt as if the week had been longer than a normal week. It felt as if you had just lived through three weeks back to back with no breaks. On top of the case you and the team wrapped up, it felt as if the whole world was out of your hands.
A lot had been going through your head the week before the case. Usual feelings of doubting your impact on the world. The doubt of having a purpose. The case solidified your doubts of even being on the team anymore.
“Y/N.”
You froze when you heard Spencer call you. You felt your throat go dry and your eyes widened as you got lost in your mind. Everything seemed to play out right in front of you again.
“Y/N,” Spencer yelled.
He grabbed your arm to yank you away from the flames coming from inside the house. You tried to yank your arm away from his hand but he wasn’t letting you go. You needed to go back in there to save him. It was your fault he ended up trapped in there in the first place. You should’ve been in there with him.
You tried to yank away from his grasp again but he didn’t give you another chance of trying to get away from him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back. You were pretty sure he could feel you shaking to your core as manic tears started running down your face and the sound of despair left your mouth.
“Y/N, stop. We can’t do anything,” he said.
“Y/N,” Spencer called again.
You broke out of your train of thought as you turned your head to look behind you. He stood a few inches away from you and the concern plastered on his face wasn’t hard to miss. It was hard to think he would look that concerned if he didn’t already know what you were in deep thought about.
You grabbed your bag and placed it over your shoulder. You flashed a quick smile to show him you were fine. You didn’t fool either of you. You could see in his eyes he had this unwavering sympathy that you wanted to run away from. You didn’t want any more sympathy. You wanted to lay in your bed and forget about your life.
“Are we still on for this weekend?” He asked.
You raised a questionable eyebrow. “On for?”
“Remember? I was going to go over to your place, so we could watch some movies and order pizza,” he said.
“Oh, yeah, about that. I think we should postpone until next weekend,” you said.
You could see the instant disappointment and further concern all mix on his face. He reached out his hand to grab onto your upper arm. He gently rubbed it to send some reassurance your way. On any other day, you would have been giddy if he even reached out in an attempt to touch you but his touch only reminded you of him holding you back from the fire.
“Y/N, we can talk about what happened. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said.
You flashed a smile. “Thanks but I just need some sleep. I’ll talk to you on Monday.”
Before he could get another word in, you yanked your arm away from his touch and walked past him. You rushed out of the bullpen before he could try to stop you because you knew he will. It’s not as if you blamed him for holding you back from saving a life. In fact, you blamed yourself a great deal for putting someone’s life in danger through your missteps. Going back in the fire was the least you could do to amend for what you did.
When you unlocked your apartment door, you didn’t feel your usual sense of relief of being home. After a long case away, you would have been giddy to be back in your bed. However, you still felt torn inside. You couldn’t get the fire away from your sight. The smell of smoke still filling your lungs. The last bit of chance saving Michael when you saw him close the door.
You walked in and closed the door behind you. You dropped your bag at the door as it was becoming too heavy. Not because it was packed heavily, you actually packed it quite light. You just couldn’t find the strength to hold anything anymore. You barely even had the strength to stand as you felt your knees shaking.
You could feel your whole body shake the more you walked towards your room. You wanted to crawl into your bed immediately and forget about your week. It would be even better if you could forget about your whole existence as well.
You opened your bedroom door to be greeted by the mess of your room. Clothes on the floor, cups half-filled covered your nightstand, your bed unmade. It would stay like that until you found the energy to sort it out. The way you felt like not moving for an eternity, you guessed it would have to wait that long to get done as well.
You passed by your huge standing mirror in your room. You stopped and looked at yourself. You scanned your body from head to toe and back up. You knew if you weren’t horridly overweight you could have ran faster to grab Michael in time.
You pinched the skin on your side. You kept pinching it harder and harder and harder until it became numb pain. You watched yourself in the mirror. You looked like an absolute wreck.
You stopped pinching your side and moved your hand’s attention to your face. You caressed over the scars of imperfections past covering your face. You tilted your face up to reveal even more of them covering your neck and chest.
You were disgusted by yourself. Of course Michael wouldn’t trust you. You looked like his enemy. You would run into a ticking time bomb as well.
You could hear your phone ringing from within your bag. You couldn’t find the strength to move away from the mirror to answer it. It felt as if your brain couldn’t think of anyone wanting to contact you after figuring out who you truly were: a monster. You let it ring.
And let it ring and ring again. You just let it ring as you stared at yourself until your eyes felt as if they were going black with only the imagery of flames being the constant flash of light in the darkness. You could feel the smoke in your lungs. You wanted to scream out for Michael but you couldn’t make a peep. You just stood there, useless.
Your phone was still ringing but there was a faint knocking coming from afar. You groaned as you opened your eyes. You didn’t even remember getting into bed but you were glad you were laying down. You couldn’t even fathom getting up. The noise around you, however, was making it difficult for you to fall back asleep.
You couldn’t think of what all the noise was for. You were starting to think it was all in your head. You couldn’t think of one person who would be calling you nonstop, let alone someone visiting you. You closed your eyes to try to shut out the noise and to go back to forgetting about your existence.
“Y/N.”
Your eyes shot open when you heard the faint sound of your voice being called. The voice sounded familiar but you decided to not decipher it. If you ignored them for long enough, they would probably go away. However, they kept calling and calling and calling your name. Your phone was also still ringing and if you could guess, whoever was calling your phone was also calling your name.
“Y/N.”
You slowly got up from your bed to go towards your front door. You had a feeling the voice behind the door was the only person you knew who would come to check on you.
You stood at your door and peeped through the peephole to see Spencer standing there, knocking and calling out your name. You couldn’t see his expression clearly but from the sound of his voice you could tell just how much concern he had for your wellbeing.
You would open the door to show him you were fine but he would see right through it. Your hair hadn’t been washed in a while, you were still in your work clothes and who knows what your face looked like with all the smudged makeup you had failed to take off. You would look like the monster you knew you were all along.
“Y/N, if you can hear me, can you please let me know you’re okay? I’ve tried to call you all weekend but you haven’t been answering. I just need to know you’re okay,” he said.
You sighed as you unlocked your front door but made sure the chain was still intact. You didn’t want him to see the whole of you. Just enough so he knew you were breathing.
As you opened the door, you saw his face immediately relax in relief as he saw half your face peeking at him. He looked at his phone and immediately hung up whoever he was calling. When he did, your phone stopped ringing as well, as you had expected.
“I’m okay,” you said.
“You haven’t responded to anyone’s calls or texts for almost three days. I-well, we were all worried,” he said.
“I’ve just been taking some time for myself. Nothing to worry about,” you said.
“If that’s the case, may I come in? I brought some movies and popcorn, so we can hang out and hopefully make you feel better about our last case,” he said.
As soon as he said that, you could feel your mouth go dry. The cloud of smoke came over your vision and the heaviness filled your lungs. It was almost too hard to stand. You could only shake your head as you tried to close the door. He stopped you by shoving his foot in-between the door, so you couldn’t lock him out.
You looked at his foot blocking your escape. You wanted to slam the door in his face and run back into your bed. You didn’t even know why you got out in the first place. Now he wasn’t going to let you go so easily.
“Y/N, can you please let me in?” He begged.
“Spence, I think it’s best I don’t,” you said.
“Why’s that?” He asked.
“Because…” you started as tears flowed down your face.
There was a moment of silence between you two as he waited for you to continue. You were having trouble piecing together why you didn’t want to let him in. You were a mess, you were worthless, you were hideous. You couldn’t let him come any closer to you.
Then you felt his hand cup your face as his thumb gently wiped away a tear. You didn’t want to look up at him to see any more of you. Not the tears, not the scars, not the smudged makeup. You didn’t want him to see you for who you really were.
“I’m not going to let someone I love suffer in silence like this,” he said.
You immediately looked up as soon as he said the word ‘love.’ You had to look at him to see if you had imagined those words leaving his mouth. As soon as your eyes met his, you knew he meant what he had said. His eyes were filled with concern and care you hadn’t seen anyone have for you in years.
You sighed as you unhooked the chain on your door to fully open it. He removed his hand from your face as he shuffled his way inside of your apartment. He didn’t take your eyes off of you the whole time as you closed the door. It made you self-conscious. He could see how awful you looked. The raw you. How you felt on the inside.
He looked at you with no distaste though. He gave you a gracious smile, almost sympathetic. You wanted to hide away from his gaze. Even though he was smiling at you, you felt as if he was judging every part of you.
He probably wondered why you were still in your work clothes from Friday or why your makeup was still on. Your hair was tangled and unwashed. You wondered if he could tell. You started to sweat from being nervous of him possibly thinking you smell since you hadn’t showered in almost three full days.
“It’s okay to ask for help sometimes,” he said as he dropped his bag.
“What?” You asked.
“Have you had a relaxing bath in a while? That's what I do when I’m feeling down,” he said.
“You said you couldn’t let someone you love suffer. I’m just happy you stopped by to say that. You don’t have to do anything else,” you insisted.
He shook his head. “I want to. I feel terrible for not going home with you on Friday to make sure you were okay. The look you had on Friday left me feeling…guilty.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Guilty?”
“I should have tried better to let you know that nothing was your fault about the case. I know how hard you take things and it hurts knowing you get down on yourself. I just want to hold you close to let you know everything’s okay,” he admitted.
You let out a long sigh after digesting everything he said. It  didn’t fully erase the pain or depression you were feeling towards yourself or the case but you loved the fact he was trying. You could hear how genuine he was about wanting to be there for you.
You formed a small smile. “This job is haunting. It doesn’t help that tough cases weigh heavy on me and I start questioning myself even more than I already do.”
“You shouldn’t do that. You’re a great profiler, a great person, and most importantly, you’re you. You should love everything about you as much as I do,” he said.
You paused before you said anything again. That was the second time he had said he loved you. At first you didn’t think much of it but now you were considering he was trying to tell you something. You stared at him intently to see if he looked as if he loved you. If you were as great of a profiler as he said, you could tell.
“How much do you love me?” You asked, softly.
“I love you enough to start a hot bath for you and we’ll go from there,” he suggested with a shrug.
“I’d like that a lot,” you sniffled.
Spencer had his back towards you as you took off your clothes to hop in the hot bubble bath he had prepared for you. Even having him so close to you made you nervous. What if he could somehow see your rolls or stretch marks on your thighs? Would he take back everything he said before if he saw how low your breasts sagged without a bra?
You could feel the cloud come back over you as you hopped into the tub. Even though his words made you feel alive inside, you couldn’t shake the awful thoughts about yourself fully. It was not knowing how he’d react to you once he saw your naked body. If he saw your naked body.
You looked at him to see his back still turned as he leaned against the doorframe. You splashed some water on your face to remove your makeup residue, so you were completely you. You could feel your hands shake.
“Are you in the tub?” He asked.
“Yup,” you said.
“Would you like anything? I can get you something to drink or even a snack,” he said.
“No thank you,” you said.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to relax. I’ll just be out in your living room,” he said.
“Wait,” you said.
You paused before you continued. You didn’t know if you wanted to say what you wanted to anymore. You sighed as you were about to tell him ‘nevermind.’
“Can you stay here with me? Like, sit next to me,” you asked.
He slowly turned around to look at you. Your heart stopped as he examined you with wide, curious eyes. He smiled as he walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet right next to the bathtub as you requested. He was blushing as he tried not to peek at the body parts not covered by the millions of bubbles.
You tried to cover yourself up with as many bubbles as possible. You couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking. He probably saw you for your real size and real scars and hated it. He was just too polite to say anything about it. You started to think it was a horrible idea inviting him to be with you while you bathed three days of filth away.
“You really love bubbles,” he commented.
“Yeah,” you whispered.
He looked at you concerned. “Is there something wrong? Is the water too hot? Do I make you uncomfortable? If I’m staring a lot, I don’t mean to it’s just that-”
“You think I’m hideous,” you said.
He violently shook his head as he looked repulsed by you even uttering those words. He gently grabbed your hand from the depths of the hot water to hold it in his. He squeezed it tight and held it close to him as he gave you that same genuine look from when you opened the door.
“Y/N, I know learning to love yourself takes time but I want you to know that I love everything about you. You’re the most gorgeous woman to me, inside and out. I’ll be here every step of the way to help you realize that,” he said.
You could feel the tears flow down his face as you listened to him. Some of the words he said were finally sticking to your brain as you started to accept his feelings. It meant the world to you he was there for you with such love and generosity in his heart.
“I love you, Spence,” you said.
He smiled. “I love you too. Is there anything else you need me to do for you?”
He used his free hand to wipe your tears as you thought about what you really wanted his hands to do. You wanted him to feel the real you. If he loved you for you, would he be willing to touch you in more ways than just your hands?
“It’s a weird request and don’t feel obligated to,” you said.
“I’d do anything for you. All you gotta do is ask,” he said.
“Can you make me feel…feel…” you said as you tried to put it into words.
He used his free hand to caress your neck up and down. You smiled at his gentle touch as he understood your drift without you needing to explain yourself further.
“Would you like me to go lower?” He asked.
You nodded. “Yes, please.”
He smiled as his face turned visibly red. He caressed his hand down your neck to your chest. You watched as his eyes focused on your breasts as he gently cupped one in your hand and gently massaged your nipple. You softly moaned.
“Am I doing good?” He asked.
“Very,” you moaned.
He smiled. “Would you like me to go lower?”
You nodded and he didn’t hesitate to obey. You watched as his hands caressed down your stomach. You held your breath as nerves took you over as he touched your stomach. You were sure he’d say something about your rolls but he seemed laser-focused on pleasuring you. Good thing his sleeves were already rolled up.
His hand reached your clit and you moaned as you felt him carefully rubbing it. You clenched your hand tighter in his as you tried to steady your breathing. You couldn’t imagine the last time you felt so excited inside. It was as if something inside of you was coming alive.
“Do you want me to go faster?” He asked.
“Yes,” you moaned.
He did just as you wanted. He circled your clit over and over again until you were practically moaning his name unprovoked. He yanked your hand towards him to move you closer to him. He embraced you in a kiss as soon as he snuck two fingers into you.
You aggressively moaned in his mouth as his fingers curled in you. He gently rubbed your g-spot as his thumb still worked vigorously on your clit. You could barely keep your composure as he made you feel things you couldn’t put into sensible words.
“Oh my God, Spence,” you moaned.
He kissed you again. “I just want you to feel good. Always.”
You grabbed onto his shirt to pull him close to you. He immediately went back to kissing you, not getting enough of you. He let go of your hand to grab the back of your neck to keep you in place. He engulfed every moan you let out as his fingers worked you.
They worked you so much, your legs were shaking in the water. You could make waves from how much they were trembling. This tingling came over your body and your breathing became unstable to the point you thought you weren’t even in the moment anymore. You were somewhere else completely experiencing heaven.
You broke away from his mouth as you let out a breathless moan. You felt the electrifying feeling of an orgasm go through your body. You hadn’t felt something so intense in years. Once it passed, you looked Spencer in his eyes. He stared at you with a joyous smile on his face as he pulled his fingers out of you.
“You look at peace,” he said.
“Because I kind of am. You’ve made me feel things I haven’t felt in awhile,” you said.
“I’m glad I could make you feel that way. I hope this is a start in making you feel happier and happier today,” he said.
“I think we’re off to a good start to making that happen. Maybe the next steps would be some needed help with cleaning my room," you said.
He smiled and nodded. “Anything for you.”
—–
MASTERLIST
Tagged: @shadyladyperfection @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @spencerreidsthings @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @slutforsr @bxtchboy69 @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @agentadhd @fanofalltheficsx @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @dinsprettygirl @multixfandomwriter @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @muffin-cup @jessalyn-jpeg @princesssmooshie @solitarypeachh @spensual​ @gubler-me-swallow-me @reidsbookclub @isabellasimps @doctorspenceryeet
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itsapeterthing · 3 years
Text
Empty Home || Bucky Barnes
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pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader
summary: after the loss of your husband, you come home for the first time since his death and memories flood back from your relationship. loosing yourself in your grief, you lose control.
a/n: based on that scene from wandavision- you’ll know the one. bucky and sam were never snapped. replies and reblogs are super appreciated!
word count: 3.7k
warnings: bucky died, difficulties dealing with loss, grief, just really sad, angst, mentions of blood, choking
masterlist || taglist
You felt numb as you twisted the brass knob on your front door. Although the door was no heavier than it had always been, it took every ounce of strength within you just to get it open and once you did, it took even more just to step inside.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky asked, grabbing your hand in his and pulling you back towards him.
You laughed as you collided with his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared up at his smiling face.
“Inside our house,” You said. “to take off these disgusting clothes and relax.”
“What’s disgusting about it?” He asked, resting his hands on your waist.
“I don’t know,” You said. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been wearing the same sweatpants for twenty-six hours?”
“Well,” He said, leaning down to press his lips against yours. “I think you look beautiful.”
“Hmmm,” You hummed brushing your lips against his once more. “I think that’s the jet lagging talking.”
“Let’s go to bed then.”
Before you even had a chance to turn around and head back through the door, you felt Bucky’s flesh hand run down your back and behind your knees while you felt the cool touch of vibranium brush against your back.
“What are you-” You began just as Bucky bent down and lifted you into his arms bridal-style- your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and holding onto him for dear life as he did. “Buck!”
“What?” He asked, pushing the door open with his foot. “This is our first time going home as a married couple, Y/n. I gotta carry you over the threshold.”
“That’s a stupid tradition.”
“Yeah?” He asked. “How about I just drop you then?”
Just as he said that, his hands let go of you for a moment before catching you once again.
“Buck!” You squealed, tightening your grip. “Fine! Fine! Carry me over the threshold or whatever.”
Smiling to himself at your concession, he lifted you once more, pulling you tighter towards him as he stepped one foot in through the front door of your home. You had to admit as you stared up at him while in his arms that you felt your cheeks grow warm, still shy in such a personal moment despite the fact that you two had been together for years and had just gotten married seven days ago. Not being able to help yourself from the smile on your face, you pressed a kiss against his scruff before nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.
“Not so bad, was it?” He asked once he stood in the foyer.
“I gotta admit, Buck.” You said stretching out your hand that held your wedding ring on your finger while still being carried in his arms. “I could get used to this.”
Stepping into the entryway, you felt a pang in your chest at how empty the house felt knowing that your husband would no longer be waiting behind any of those doors.
You felt like a stranger in your own home, studying it for the first time as your heels clacked against the hardwood floor, noticing Bucky’s old combat boots still sat by the doorway, waiting for their owner that would never come home.
You always nagged him about leaving his shoes in the middle of the hallway- how you would always trip over them when you weren’t watching where you were going.
Now you just wished you could call his name and hear his voice echo throughout house one more time.
“Buck!” You shouted. “Your shoes-”
“It’s fine, doll.” He said, making his way into the hallway. “I was just about to go out.”
You quirked your eyebrow and crossed your arms.
“Oh really?” You asked. “And where are you headed Mr. Barnes?”
Snatching the boots from your hands, he bent down and pecked your cheek.
“To get flowers Mrs. Barnes.” He said. “I’ll be right back.”
As you stared at the shoes now, you almost felt as if he was there with you. His shoes were no longer in the middle of the floor, but set by the door just like you had always asked him to do.
It was almost as if he knew he’d be leaving you with them one last time.
He never liked you tripping without him being there to catch you.
Stepping over the floorboard that always creaked, you made your way into the living room, the light that was pouring in almost taunting you, reminding you of the way you used to admire your husband’s sculpted features in its soft glow.
You brushed your fingertips against the record player near the doorway, recalling the look on Bucky’s face when he opened his Christmas gift to find the same record player his mother used to have eighty years before.
Bending down in front of the device, you sorted through the records on the shelf, thumbing through all of Bucky’s favorites to find the one you were looking for. Finally finding the fated record, the corners of its album ruined from the amount of times you and your husband had picked it out, you slid the record out of its case and into your hands, the album falling to the floor besides you.
Setting the record into the player, your lip began to tremble as the music softly carried into the air.
“No,” Bucky corrected you, glancing down at the both of your feet. “Like this, doll.”
You followed Bucky’s movements, one of your hands rested on his chest while the other was on his back. When he stepped back, you stepped forward, and as you finally stopped stepping on his toes, you glanced up at him hopefully.
“Like this?” You asked.
“Just like that, doll.” He said smiling. “You got it.”
Feeling proud of yourself for finally getting the dance movements your husband had taught you down, you laid your head against his chest as the two of you continued to slow dance in your living room. You closed your eyes as you allowed the music to flow through your ears and the warm glow of the holiday lights to embrace the two of you.
No matter how many holidays you went through, all of them were better by his side. Even as you spent Christmas Eve dancing by yourselves in your own quaint living room, you couldn’t think of any other place you would ever want to be besides in his arms.
“Merry Christmas, James.” You whispered, as he hummed along with the music.
Rubbing circles into the small of your back, Buck pressed a light kiss on the top of your head without missing a step.
“Merry Christmas, Y/n.”
Feeling your heart sink to the pit of your stomach, you let out a sob you didn’t even realize you were holding in. It quickly felt as if the walls began closing in on you and the music you had once shared with your beloved was taunting you on every note. You rushed out of the room, the music following you into the hallway as you began rushing up the stairs, gripping onto the handrail for dear life.
Your heart began racing as you reached the last step and shoved open the door of you and Bucky’s shared bedroom.
It was still torn apart from the last time you and Bucky had stayed there. Both of your clothes were strewn across the floor- your closet flung open and old suits of yours and his spilling out from its frame.
You felt yourself choke as you realized how much life was in this room- how everything in here was still exactly the way that he had touched it- the way he had left it.
You wanted to grab his shirt and hold it to your nose- pretending he was still there with you- but you feared that if you actually moved it even a centimeter he would really, truly be gone.
You started hyperventilating at the room surrounding you, the music from downstairs still drifting into your ears. Everywhere you looked reminded you of him- his touch, his smile, his presence- him. You couldn’t fathom that he was gone. That he was taken from you.
You would never hear his laugh again, never come home with him. You would never nag him about his shoes or slow dance with him on cold winter nights. You would never be able to hold him in your arms or tell him how much you loved him one last time.
You caught the glimmer of an object on top of the pile of scattered clothes and not being able to help yourself you slowly made your way over to the bed. With trembling hands you picked up Bucky’s watch from the bed, turning it over with your fingers.
“Till The End of Time.”
Whatever composure you had left crumbled along with you as you fell to your knees.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.
You and Bucky had given your lives to saving the world- to being its protectors. He had suffered more than many could even imagine. You had given and given and given and just when you finally got to receive, it was snatched from your hands too soon by an unforgiving force.
He didn’t deserve to die. You didn’t deserve to be forced to know a life without him.
You were tired. You were robbed. You were distraught.
You were empty.
You clutched the watch in your fist so tightly you were sure the glass would shatter against your skin but as you struggled for breath, choking on your own sobs as they caught in your throat you lost control.
The ground beneath you came apart, the clothes that had once been scattered across the room spinning around you as the house you were trapped in blew apart and came together like a beating a heart.
You arms were thrown in the air, using every bit of strength you had to take down the titan in front of you. It was difficult, but you grunted as you felt the pressure weighing down on you- trying your best to keep his force from tearing you down.
When you heard your husband’s voice scream at you from across the battlefield, though, you lost focus. 
You slipped.
When your head was turned for less than a second, your guard let down, the mad titan wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you up from the ground.
Your powers were useless against him as long as he had the stones, so all you could do was wrap your own hands around his wrists- trying to no avail to lose his grip and allow yourself to be set free.
Bucky watched in horror as you struggled in Thanos’ grasp, kicking your legs against the air.
He focused himself quickly, trying to find any way to successfully set you free- to save you.
That’s when his eyes landed on it.
The gauntlet on Thanos’ hand.
His eyes glanced from the taunting stones to your struggling form in the titan’s grasp.
Years ago it would’ve been easy to make a decision like this- it would’ve been easy for him to lay down his life for the greater good. He had lived long enough. He had seen enough. He was tired.
But then he met you and it was like he was finally living a life again.
He would easily lay down his life for you, but he wanted so desperately for there to be another way.
He wanted there to be some clue- some answer- that would keep him with you. That would let him live out the rest of his natural life with you because even if he lived until two-hundred it wouldn't be enough. No time spent with you would ever be enough.
But you living though? That would be enough.
Bucky threw the gun in his hand onto the ground and with a running start, leaped towards the titan, briefly grabbing his fist in his hand.
Thanos, so consumed in his own rage, only swat Bucky away without even realizing what he had done.
As the air began to leave your body, Bucky stared at the six stones in his hand. Even with the vibranium, he began to feel the energy being sucked out of his body from the stones and the weight they laid on his senseless palms.
He looked up and saw your eyes fluttering and knew he had to act quick.
How did he live until one hundred and six and still feel as though he hadn’t had enough time?
With his trembling flesh hand, Bucky shoved the stones onto the vibranium knuckles of his other hand, biting back a guttural shout as the power burnt his fingertips and the palm of his hands.
“Y/n!” He shouted, raising his vibranium hand.
Thanos loosened his grip just enough that you could finally gasp for breath but when you did, you saw the sight of your husband over Thano’s shoulders kneeling on the rubble, the stones on his vibranium hand with sparks of energy running up his arm.
You felt your heart stop in your chest in that moment, the world stopping around you as you locked eyes with Bucky.
Bruce’s words from earlier ran through your head-
“None of you could survive.”
You knew none of you could. You knew Bucky couldn't. You knew when he snapped his fingers it would be the end of the line for him.
You knew he lived such a long life, but how could you be asked to let him go? How could you let him sacrifice himself when he had finally found peace after so long?
In that moment you wished you had more energy- that Thanos hadn't nearly knocked the life out of you so you could utilize your powers. So you could kill Thanos yourself. So you could put a forcefield around the two of you and let the battle run its course. So you could- in the very least- use your telepathic abilities one last time to let your husband know you loved him- that you were proud of him. That even after years of fighting it- he was a hero.
Even without words, though, as your sights set on him through teary eyes, you understood everything that was going on inside his head. Love, you thought,  sometimes had the ability to be stronger than magic and you were grateful in that moment to have such a shared such a passionate life with the man in front of you.
As desperately as you tried to shake your head to deter to him, to stop him, to let you find any other way to save yourself, he only smiled and nodded.
“I love you!” He shouted as his fingers moved into position.
“Buck, no!”
But it was too late as you watched his fingers snap in front of your very eyes.
Thanos dropped you from his grasp immediately upon the colorful blast exploding around your husband. You scrambled to your feet as you ran over to him, dropping to your knees as soon as you saw his frail body lying amidst the rubble.
You had seen Bucky in pain more times than you could count, but you had never seen him so weak, so colorless, so... so lifeless.
You felt your lip tremble as you examined him.
The vibranium had burnt into the skin up his neck and across his chest, his pupils blown and blood dripping from his mouth. You rested your hands on his chest and ran them up his skin to cup his cheeks and when you did, you let out the sobs you hadn’t even realized you were holding in.
“Buck?” You called, as his eyes focused on you. “James. James, you can’t leave me okay? I- I can’t do this without you. I... I didn’t have enough time. I need you. I need you to stay with me.”
You knew it was impossible. You knew there was no way he would ever be able to come back from this, but your heart wouldn’t let him go. You couldn’t let him go.
As his eyes began fluttering shut, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into your embrace, your face falling into the crook of his neck.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that?” You sobbed. “I love you. I love you, okay? I’ll find you this time, James. I’ll find you. I love you.”
As Sam felt the ground rumble beneath his feet, he turned around, only to notice that the house behind him was surrounded in the familiar golden glow of your magic- the siding floating in the air as the house came apart in front of him- floating in the midst of your energy.
“Shit!” He cursed, rushing into what was left of left of your house. “Y/n!”
Running through your foyer, Sam watched as the staircase in front of him began falling apart in front of his very eyes. As the floorboards separated from one another, Sam swallowed and with a running start hopped onto the first step, and then another- nearly losing his footing before getting the hang of it and making it up the rest of the way.
“Y/n!” He shouted once more.
As the walls came apart briefly, he saw your sunken figure on the floor of yours and Bucky’s shared bedroom, the air spinning around you as objects were thrown across the room by an invisible force.
Watching his footing, Sam hopped from floorboard to floorboard before shoving open what was left of your bedroom door and rushing to your side, dodging your night stand along the way. 
When he fell to his knees behind you he was almost afraid to stop you, but watching his broken friend hunched over on the floor sobbing, he knew what needed to be done.
“Y/n?” Sam said, laying his hands on your shoulders. “Y/n, listen to me-”
“It can’t be over, Sam.” You said between sobs, gripping the watch tighter in your hands. “I wasn’t ready-”
“You’re never really ready, Y/n.” Sam said, shuffling around to kneel in front of you. “But you can’t bring him back-”
“But what if I can?”
Sam’s eyes widened in horror at your proposition as he adamantly shook his head and squeezed your shoulder.
“You can’t Y/n.” Sam said. “Even if you could bring... bring something back... that wouldn't be Buck. He wouldn’t want you to do that.”
Heeding Sam’s words you nodded and looked up to meet his eyes. Staring around you at the mess you’d caused, the world still spinning around you, you glanced down at the watch and back to Sam before another sob escaped your throat.
“It’s not fair.”
He had never seen you so completely and utterly shattered and it broke his heart just to look at you.
Nodding along with your words, Sam moved his hands from your shoulders to your back and pulled you into his embrace. As soon as he did, you quickly wrapped your arms around him, sobbing into his black suit jacket.
“I know,” He said running his hands up and down your back. “I know.”
As Sam opened his eyes from soothing you, he watched as the house slowly began to fall back into place as your breathing slowed. The floorboards began sliding in one next to the other, while the light that had been pouring in quickly dimmed as your walls built themselves up once again. Sam watched in awe as the clothes on your floor found themselves back on hangers in your closet and your sheets folded themselves neatly on your mattress.
When everything had settled in your once dilapidated house, only the music on the record player downstairs still floating throughout your home, Sam pulled away.
“I know it’s hard and none of us can ever replace him,” Sam said. “But you’re not alone, okay? We’re all here for you.”
Sniffling, you nodded your head.
“Alright?” He said shooting you a closed smile. “Let’s get out of here for a bit, okay? I always thought this place was a little stuffy anyway.”
Letting out the first hint of a smile in days at your friend’s poorly timed joke, you shook your head and wiped the tears from your cheeks.
As Sam pushed himself up and off the floor in front of you, he reached out his hand for you and pulled you up. When you stood up and adjusted your dress, you brushed by Sam to your dresser where your wedding ring sat, it’s pair now hanging on a necklace with your lost lover.
You had taken it off before meeting up with everyone to bring half of humanity back. You hadn't wanted to lose it, but now as you held it in your hands again, you felt as though a piece of your husband still lived on within you. You could almost find peace in it.
Slipping the ring back onto where it belonged, you followed Sam out of your bedroom and down the stairs, making your way to his truck that he had driven you home from your husband’s funeral service in.
Although you couldn’t explain it, each step you took felt as though another part of you had returned. Just as you were about to cross the threshold, playing with the band on your left finger, you almost felt as if you were whole again. As if Bucky hadn’t left you. As if there wasn’t a gaping hole in your chest from his loss that you could feel the emptiness of every time you tried to breathe.
Then, you stiffened as you heard a familiar voice speak over the sound of “It’s Been A Long, Long Time” that had been floating from the record player into the foyer.
Slowly turning around, your heart stopped.
“Doll?”
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kittiestkat · 3 years
Text
€ 5,00 !? for a coffee !!
scummy!dabi!hawks x fem!reader
dark content (dubcon/noncon)
this is from my old blog sorry :( have writers block rn !! (not proof read)
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it had been how many weeks now. two three? you had lost count. your mind was jumbled and your body still felt dirty. no matter how many times you scrubbed, the feeling remained. but no matter how many people you slept with to forget the accident, nothing satisfied you.
god, what were you? some common whore begging to me taken advantage of by two brutes again. it was laughable. embarrassing!
school was a distraction but also a reminder. you skipped lessons to avoid them. contemplated changing courses even. anything to forget.
-
you were listening to god knows what, studying still after several hours. your mind seriously couldn’t wrap around analysing any form of english.
you were aching to slip into bed, watch some tv and doze off. before you could form a coherent thought as to how to answer this question, a knock to your door jolts you out of your thoughts. that’ll be your roommate, drunk no doubt. fridays were always ‘party days’ in her eyes.
“coming!” you roll your eyes when the knocks grew louder, snickers coming from behind the thick wood.
“i told you, i can’t keep babying you when your drunk.” swinging the door open you weren’t met with the petit red head, but instead two pair of silted eyes staring at you.
you couldn’t close the door? well no, not when dabi’s foot was so rudely jamming it back open.
“well, well, well. what do we have here?”
“please, what do you want?”
“please what do you want.” the raven haired boy mocked you, eyes sparkling and teeth bared. you were stuck, a mouse in a trap.
you felt you heart swell, tears drop. “awe dabi, you’ve gone and made her cry,” the blonde said in faux empathy “it’s okay baby, ignore him.”
empty words, that’s all they were. empty words from people who could care less.
“please, just…” your words trailed off as the two large men barged past my door, bolting it shut.
“please what…? make you feel good? oh trust me baby, we will.”
the feeling of hawks slender fingers tugging curls behind your ear made you recoil. begin to scream, thrash, sob. the two looked at each other, eyebrows raised, faces amused, teeth bared.
-
whatever you did before was no good. actually it only spurred them on. “this little hole was just waiting for me, huh.” the blonde says, a statement more than a question.
his cock pistons in and out of you, thrashing you to reluctantly take dabi further down you throat, making him emit and gargled moan. “mm, you’re so fucking warm.” the raven hair said, hand stroking your back as the hawks lifted his leg, making your back arch and legs shake.
the assault carries on for what seemed ages. you were a mere spit roast. you could feel the humiliation wrap around you as your throat began to bruise and your insides started to quiver.
“keigo.” your voice seemed pathetic even to you, it was laced with pleasure, there was no denying it.
“you hear something dabi.” the blonde said, as if he wasn’t fucking into you at an ungodly pace.
“no? last time i checked onaholes didn’t speak.” the boys laughed as tears wet your cheeks.
“mm gonna’ cream in this tight pussy, huh.” you couldn’t reply to him, dabi had a death grip on your head as his thrusts grew sloppy.
“gonna take my cum, baby?” you could only whimper. you weren’t able to reply. they knew that. they liked that.
dabi was almost ripping out your hair as you gagged around him, waiting for him to still. after a few more languid thrusts in your abused throat, he stopped, spirts of white shooting down you, making you convulse as hawks does the same, cum beginning to drip out of your poor little cunny.
pants filled the room, matching your whimpers. of course you couldn’t cum, how stupid were you to think you could? so naïve and willing, huh. pulling out of you, hawks avian eyes grew wide as white leaked, seeping and bubbling.
dabi groaned as spit fell from his dick in ropes, matching the cum. he crouched to you, smile never leaving. taking his fingers he shoved the cum pack into your pussy, gathering it and stuffing you like a turkey. you cried at the sudden intrusion, only to find those fingers in your mouth.
“not a drop spilt, you hear me?” standing up he grimaced at the mess, insulting you as he got dressed.
the two boys began to turn, walking through your door, until dabi turned round, winking at you.
“oh,” he feigned innocence as he held up a discarded item “we’ll be taking these again.”
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keilemlucent · 3 years
Text
mother knows best
(r18+)
hawks | takami keigo x reader
ao3
word count: ~4.6k
keigo’s dick catches up with him in the form of a fat, red strap
warnings: daddy kink, subby hawks, mean reader, lingerie, pegging, dumbification (a wittle), dacryphilia, revenge sex, degradation, keigo’s a cock slut ❤️
...
oh wow so this is actually a wip from all the way back in august!! i got some good inspo, so enjoy some subby hawks goodness loveys <3
You wanted nothing more than fucking ruin Keigo.
He’d been a shit lately, more annoying than usual. Fuck, you’d even say that he had been a downright brat.
It was obviously somewhat endearing, getting bent over countertops, teased through your clothes and getting left wet and wanting as he would just so happily walk away, whistling triumphantly to himself. 
Or, maybe, it was how at the recent Hero’s Gala, Keigo had dragged you into one of the hotel’s lavish bathrooms, meters away from his colleagues and shoved you up against the large dressing mirror, his bulge shoved against your ass, whispering about how he was going to shred your dress from your frame. 
“You just look too good, babe,” Keigo’s hands raked up and down your chest, nearly pulling your breasts from the delicate fabric of your dress. 
You’d pleaded with him, “I get that you’re horny, but this really isn’t the place.”
You still let him fuck your mouth to orgasm.
Twice.
He’d been at least nice enough to help you wipe the smears of the professionally done makeup from your face.
“Sorry,” Keigo spoke with a smile, thumbing away a run of mascara from under your eyes as you sat on the edge of the sink. “You did great though. You were so beautiful for me, angel. So sexy. ”
You frowned, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from your face, meeting his eye with an uncomfortable amount of intensity. 
“Keigo.”
He blinked.
“Yeah?”
You felt his palms begin to sweat in your grip.
You smiled, something eerily dark.
“How do you feel you’ve been lately?”
You watched his throat bob, his keen mind going just where you wanted it to. As much as you loved indulging in Keigo’s insatiable, unstoppable, carnal need to bend your back until it broke, you were also very tired of the attitude he’d gotten from it lately. 
“I think...” Keigo wet his lips, pressing between your spread legs from your perch, “I think I’ve been good.”
“You do?!” You repeated, laughing a bit as you squeezed your thighs around Keigo’s trim waist. You grabbed his cheeks between your thumb and middle finger, forcing his gaze to be on your messy, smeared face. “I didn’t think my ‘good boy’ was such a fucking dumbass.”
A whimper dripped from the back of his throat as you frowned, knowing how quickly being taken down a peg got him hot and bothered.
“You’ve jumped my ass without any regard for circumstances how many times in the last week?” You sneered, digging your nails into baby fat above his jaw. “Did you think about the consequences of your actions, babe?”
Keigo let out a deep breath, “Angel, I—”
You fully grabbed his cheeks and jaw, squeezing his lips puckered, “What did you just call me?”
His eyes went wide, hands tensing on the tops of your thighs.
“If I let you speak, are you going to do so properly?” You relished the frantic nod he tried to give you.
You dropped your hand to the front of his dress shirt, hooking your fingers into the top of his tie, “Speak then.”
“I’m sorry, mommy,” Keigo’s eyes went big and doughy, refusing to look at you. 
“That’s better,” You hummed, playing with the silky fabric. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, okay, sweetheart?”
He forced his gaze up to yours.
“We’re gonna go back out there, smile for the cameras, and then head home and get some good sleep.”
“B-but aren’t you going to p-punish—” Keigo words were gluey and slow, giving you all the more reason to interrupt him, even going so far as to shift to tighten his tie around his neck, perhaps a bit too constricting.
“I will, when the time is right. You just try to be a good boy until then, see you actually can.”
A filthy, but very fun plan was brewing in your head. It just would take some time.
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The opportune time struck a few weeks later. Though Keigo had at first been on some better behavior, he reverted to his typical, bratty self a week after your threat was made.
You were just biding your time, besides, custom orders took some time.
It wasn’t hard to contact Keigo’s PA, requesting his measures for ‘unknown’ purposes. 
What was harder was wading through the hundreds of beautiful designs you could order for him. You spent a good few hours scrolling and fantasizing about what colors and patterns Keigo’s pretty, lithe body would look best in. After beating one out, you made your decision, entered his measurements, and sent the order off. It might’ve been the fervor of hot pleasure you had, but you threw in an extra item or two to your purchase. You were spoiling yourself, really. 
Three weeks later, it arrived, perfect in every way, along with the extra items.
Then, it was just about watching Keigo and waiting to strike.
...
He came in late one night, feathers all but bare, uniform muddled.
As Keigo fell on the bed following his shower, you took note of his downy stubs, bare of most of his usual feathers. You grinned something wicked. 
Tomorrow was the day.
Keigo crawled up to you, immediately pulling your back to his chest, peppering your shoulders with kisses before drifting off. You turned to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping he’d get enough rest to be ready for all you had planned.
...
The next morning, Keigo lumbered out of bed while you were finishing your coffee on the couch, already donned in your business casual attire (with some additions, but he couldn’t see those yet). 
“Hey, angel,” His voice was scratchy with sleep as he plopped down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How’d you sleep?”
“I slept super good,” You smiled, returning his sweet gesture. “How about you?”
“Good, very good. I’m just glad I have a day off.” Keigo relaxed into the cushions. He flexed the roughly two-foot-long stubs of crimson feathers, “Gotta grow these back out, and that means I’m relaxing all day.”
You grinned, the pieces of your plan having perfectly fallen into place.
“I’m very glad, sweetheart,” You gave him a fleeting kiss before standing up and heading back to the bedroom. 
Keigo called after you, “Where’re you off to, angel? I wanna give you some love before you gotta leave me.”
“One sec! I just gotta get my shit together for work,” You purred back knowingly. Your purse was already packed and ready. You had other traps to lay.
Flitting into the closet, you rummaged through a small set of drawers to retrieve one of the several packages you received. It was a clean, white box, about half the size of a pillow, wrapped in red ribbon. 
You laid it on the freshly made bed, adjusting some of the satins as you did. 
Keigo beamed at you as you exited to the living room, sauntering up and wrapping his hands around your waist to kiss your forehead. 
He stiffened when he felt the straps beneath your work blouse.
“Angel?” He squeezed your waist. 
You smirked, kissing the corner of his mouth before gently cupping his jaw, “Now, sweetheart, can you be a good boy for me today?”
Keigo, the sweet thing he was, turned to putty in your hands.
He nodded, his bottom lip poking out. 
“Good,” You tightened your grip on his jaw. “You have a lot to make up for, considering what a brat you’ve been lately.”
The way Keigo trembled in your hold, cheeks hot, made your head spin with your ideas for the evening. 
“You didn’t forget, did you?” You walked him back, only stopping when his ass hit the kitchen table. He jumped when he slid just the slightest bit back, forced to sit. 
“F-forget what?” Keigo genuinely couldn’t remember, based off the quirk in his brow.
You clicked your tongue, shifting a knee between his legs, “At the Gala. Use your brain, sweetheart.”
His expression fell with the revelation. 
Your punishments were never easy. Very fun, but god, they were excruciating. 
Watching the expression on Keigo’s face drift as he worked out the context of your actions made you shiver. You were sure he’d be a brat later, but catching him off guard always made him particularly weak to your touch.
“Now, baby, I was nice enough to leave a pretty present for you in our room.” You pinch his plump bottom lip between your fingers, “When I get home, I want you on the bed all dolled up for me, understand?”
He swallowed, nodding against your hold as enthusiastically as he could manage.
“Good.” You released him, kissing the indent that your nails left. “I’ve got to get going, but I love you lots, okay?”
Keigo was comically stunned with a very noticeable bulge in his boxers, “I l-love you too.”
You throw your purse over your shoulders, smug at your ability to turn Keigo into obedient mush. 
As you opened the door to leave, you were gracious enough to shout and remind him, “Oh, and sweetheart? Be a good boy and don’t you dare touch yourself today, or I’ll make tonight far worse for you. Have a good day off, love!”
...
The moment you left the apartment, Keigo let out a tight breath.
Holy fuck.
He really thought he’d get to spend the day relaxing and letting his wings regrow, but as it turned out, you had far better plans for the two of you and Keigo didn’t have the mind to fight it.
Not yet, anyway.
He’d give you shit later. It was fun to push you around, in any context.
When he was sure you were far out the door, he quickly padded to the bedroom, eyeing the box that lay on the duvet.
Slipping onto the sheets, he kneeled and pulled it closer. He rubbed at the ribbon, frowning. 
The two of you had used toys and...  devices plenty of times, tending to each other, just in different ways. But, when Keigo picked up the parcel, it seemed far too light to have any sort of toy in it.
Keigo frowned, slipping off the satin and pulling off the lid.
...
Oh fuck.
Inside, neatly packaged with crisp tissue paper, was a carefully folded set of clothes. Special clothes, notably.
This became abundantly clear as Keigo carefully pulled the mesh and lace out of the box, blood rushing to his half-hard cock. 
It was an incredibly pretty set. Stockings, garters, even a ribbed bodice with lacey cups, all pale pink with gold embroidery and accents. 
It was pretty, but not your size at all.
As he pulled out the last item, a pair of satin and lace panties with extra fabric at the front, he realized that these were undoubtedly for him.
A hot blush sped to his cheeks as he stared down at the pretty mess in front of him. 
Sure, he’d talked about this kink to you in passing, but you’d never mentioned it and he’d never asked you to indulge him in it. 
However, it was quite clear that that was indeed what you were doing, giving him such a beautiful set. 
There was even a small card.
“Keigo, 
Despite the fact that you’ve been nothing but an ungrateful brat lately, 
I’ve been gracious enough to give you a sweet gift.
You’ll have to earn it tonight. 
Be good.
(Y/N) <3”
 Keigo stared down at the garments and the note, already far too hard to be comfortable.
It was hardly going to be a leisurely day off.
...
 You took the opportunity to torture Keigo just a little.
Honestly, you deserved it. With the way he’d been randomly dragging you into bathrooms, alleyways, and dressing rooms to wreck you, it was truly only fair that you got to wreck him. 
So, you started early.
You sent picture after picture to him throughout the day, stepping from your office to tease at your own special garments that hid just under your modest clothing. Keigo probably wouldn’t touch himself, knowing what that would cost him. Fucking with him throughout the day would just make your revenge that much sweeter. 
He was easy to get riled up, it was one of his biggest weaknesses when this dynamic came up. Keigo might’ve had the stamina to go for hours, but he didn’t have the heart or mind not to beg for it.
And god, by the end of reaching your own workday, straps feeling almost too tight and pussy dripping, you were more than ready to fuck Keigo up beyond belief.
 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 “Kei’? I’m home!” You called as you came in the front door, slipping off your shoes and hanging your purse.
“I’m in here,” Keigo’s voice echoed from the bedroom.
Oh.
Perfect.
Your plan, long thought-out, had turned out perfectly. Now, you reaped the reward.
You were going to fucking ruin Keigo.
Destroy him.
If he wasn’t a shaking pile of cum and sweat when you were done with him, you’d just keep going. 
You strode to the bedroom, anticipating the sight before you with bated breath.
And god, did Keigo take yours away.
Like a ‘good boy’, he was just as you ordered him to be. 
He was kind enough to keep the lighting the room low, though he was more than visible and fucking gorgeous.
The lingerie set fit him beautifully, as you expected. The pink satin and lace stretched over his tanned skin so well, showing off the tone of his muscles and the swell of his light curves, as well as his already weeping bulge. 
He sat on his spread knees atop the bed, garters pulling tight over his upper thighs. The panties were maybe a bit small for Keigo’s fat cock, but seeing a bit of him peeking out was never a bad thing.
The bodice of the piece was truly beautiful. It was ribbed, a blushing pink and had small threads of golden stitching accenting the lace work. The cups of the piece were pressed to Keigo’s hardened, pierced nipples, the fabric undoubtedly teasing the skin raw (not that you didn’t plan on getting them such a way yourself.) 
“Oh, baby,” You sigh, a light, genuine smile coming to your face. “You look beautiful.”
Keigo must’ve already been pretty deep in it, ducking his head and biting his lip, “Thank you, mommy.”
You smiled at his usage of the proper title, though none of your irritation or anger faded. It was only a few drops of water on a much hotter burn. 
You walked up to the bed, leaning over the end of it to tilt up his face to yours, “Kei’, what’s your safeword?” 
“Quill,” He leaned into your touch, stubbly cheeks brushing against your palms. 
Nodding to yourself, you stepped back from him. Watching Keigo was like observing a moving piece of fine art, the shadows and highlights of his body crafted by some finer being than you. You were just there to tend to him, use him and bend him in the ways you knew he craved.
You fetched the last two parcels from the closet, setting them onto the nearby dresser. Close by and in-sight, teasing the two of you.
 You turned, directly regarding Keigo. He must have been watching you move about the room, eyes rounded and knees spread just right.
“So, tell me, Kei’,” You hummed approaching the bed while popping the buttons on your work blouse. “Have you been a good boy lately?”
His fingers stiffened over the lace of the stockings, stubs twitching behind him, “I... don’t think so.”
You hummed, fully peeling off your top, “Wow, so someone’s finally got some sense to himself now? Mommy’s proud, but it’s a little too late for that.”
Keigo audibly swallowed now that you were barer to him.
Your set was a leather of some sort, black straps adorning and squeezing your frame and flesh in the best ways, linked by o-rings and pretty buckles. If Keigo was in a different mood, he would have half a mind to tug you close by the ring dangling between the slope of your breasts. 
But he wasn’t, he was mommy’s good, sweet brat, and that meant sitting and shutting up unless he wanted this to be worse for himself.  
You tapped your hip, over the slim zipper to your skirt.
“Unzip.” 
Keigo nodded, too quick and too eager as his shaking hands slid the zipper over the curve of your hip.
You stepped back before Keigo could get too much satisfaction from the action, shimming the skirt down your legs—
And the set you had on top kept going.
Garters and black stockings settled over your thighs, perfectly fitted and perfect for you and your perfect body, Keigo just wanted a taste—
You slapped his hand down onto the bed, holding it there and leaning forward with a sickly syrupy smile, “I thought you said you knew you were being a brat, baby boy? Wouldn’t that mean you know not to push your fucking luck—?” 
You left his hand on the duvet with an order to not move it, to which he complied.
And you slipped back over to the dresser, unfurling your last parcels. 
Rope and a pretty new toy.
He didn’t deserve them, they were for you.
The new harness was perfect, custom made to your size, so it sat perfectly over the curves of your thighs and ass. It looked even better when you attached the curved, thick strap to it.
“Is that—”
“For you?” You finished Keigo’s sentence with a click of your tongue. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll just suck on that cute little cock of yours until you’re fucked dry. Maybe, I would let you near my dick. Or, you learn to be a good boy like you say you are—”
You grabbed his jaw in one hand and squeezed, “And you’ll get mommy’s pretty strap?”
...
To his merit, Keigo really, really was being good. 
Each expression of his was just so, so delicious, and that wasn’t even taking into account the beautiful ways his body arched and writhed below you. 
What would the public think if they knew ‘Hawks’ was fucking mama’s boy who craved nothing more than getting stuffed with thick cock and edged until he was crying sweet, sweet tears?
Who knows! You didn’t, and you didn’t fucking care. 
You’d stuffed Keigo with a cute plug as prep, one with a glittering, yellow gem that just looked so good between his pert little ass cheeks. The new rope was put to use as well. Though, the knots were kept mainly to his arms and wrists. The new lingerie was too pretty to hide. You had tied the intricate knots and binds torturously slowly, as you’d be so kind as to attach a small, vibrating egg to the tip of his dick. 
Though, the first thing you did was lock a cock ring at his base with the promise that he ‘wouldn’t be cumming until he was screaming’. 
You had him under you, tits squished to his ribs. Your thighs slotted on the sides of his braced and squeezing him just enough so he knew not to dare to try and move with your word. 
You smeared lube up and down his angrily red cock, thumbing the head. The slick and pre slipped down and stickied his balls and the roughed-up panties tucked beneath. 
Keigo was a fucking mess for it. Whining and gasping with each breath for little, reverent pleas— ‘more, more, more—’ 
His wrists were tied together, pale pink rope making flushed marks against his heat softened skin. They were secured high on the bed, pulling his body taut and flat against the sheets.
You nipped at one of his pierced nipples, tugging the tender bar with your teeth with little regard for how Keigo squealed again. 
Each sound had you dripping, just as needy and wanting as your sweet, sweet boy, but you’d be damned to let it be as apparent as his wanting.
Keigo was a goddamn sight. 
Blond waves stuck to his forehead and temples, cheeks red and lips bitten to cherry. His mouth hung open, drool spilling from the corner and soaking the pillow you graciously kept under his head. 
(Only because you’d ridden his face for a good while prior, and you were such a nice mommy, you gave him a nice cushion while you let him tongue fuck you to another orgasm.)
“M-mommy,” Keigo’s voice shook. “Please.”
You tsked. 
“Disappointing, sweet boy,” You chastised, lightly. Keigo had already wept hard enough, you didn’t need to push much more before he cracked just as you wanted. “You know to beg better.”
Keigo choked on a sob, something that made his bound, stubby wings shudder and writhe against the sheets.
“But, I-I already have,” Keigo sputtered, tugging on the bindings and breathing hard as you toyed with the ring at the base of his swollen cock. “Please.”
He deserved it, all the teasing and sweet torture, considering what a bastard he’d been in the past week. 
“Needy and you’re talking back?” You rolled your eyes. “So what, you want me to ride your cock? That’s too good for you.”
“‘T-too good for me,’” Keigo repeated, tearfully, stomach shaking with the way he was still trying to holding back.
He just needs to let go. Be the shameless cock slut he is. 
“Guess I’ll just fuck that cute little ass of yours until I’m satisfied.”
Keigo gulped as you helped him onto his tummy, bound hands freed from the headboard to brace below him. His back arched, a practice ‘c’ curve that you made dip deeper with a press to the small of back.
“Do better,” You reminded him, cruelly. He stifled another sob, nodding.
He shrieked as you eased the lubed plug from his ass. You poured a gracious amount over the red strap-on, admiring it. 
It was thick, it’d be a stretch and would press deep enough to knock Keigo out if you so chose.
Good.
As much as Keigo loved fucking you hard and fast, wherever and whenever he pleased, he needed this sometimes. A bit of handful (or so) of mean words, and a thick cock to fuck him full and dumb.
“Baby boy,” You cooed, tapping the toy over his blushing bottom. “You ready? Or should we wait—”
The impatient bastard. 
“No, no, no,” Keigo sputtered against the sheets. “I c-can’t mommy, I can’t—”
“Can’t what, baby?”
“I can’t wait!”
It was the concept of waiting any longer for your fat cock that sent him sobbing into the bedding, hiccuping and writhing. 
Keigo, the sweet thing he was, sagged and fell apart. Breaking good and proper, coherency gone. 
You guided him through it, good and proper. 
Truthfully, Keigo had been put through it. The sudden expectations, having him wait his entire day off, tempted by your skimpy little photos. And when you finally deemed him worthy of you, it was just to tease him and pretty cock for a few hours just to let off some of your own steam was cruel. 
But Keigo had been bad, and loved getting used when you both needed it.
His tears must’ve felt damn good, considering when you reached under his hips (while rubbing tender little circles over his spine) his cock was harder than ever, leaking and wet with need.
He seized beneath you, sputtering little ‘n-no’s and ‘p-please’s mixed with his weeping. He twitched in your hand as you ran the pad of your finger around the ring at its base.
“I could take this off,” You mused, pressing the tip of the strap against his hole. “Or—” 
With a slow grind of your hips, you stretched him wide and trembling. 
Keigo’s cries got louder, deeper and rougher as he clasped his hands in their binds. Bent over his body, you teased his cock with a light hand, humming as you nonchalantly fucked him to the hilt of the strap.
“Now, sweet boy,” You nudge your hips flush to his, just barely shifting “If I take this off, can you come for me? I need you to cum for me as much until you can’t anymore. Can you be a good boy?”
After a moment of sniffling, he nodded, “Yes, m-mommy.”
You flicked the clasp on the ring, discarding it and rolling your hips.
And Keigo instantly came. 
With all of that build-up, he shuddered, wings writhing as his back bent harder as he drenched the sheets beneath the two of you.
“My good boy,” You hummed, petting between his wings as he rode it out. “Keep it up.”
And without relenting, you grabbed his wings for leverage and fucked him.
Maybe, it was a little cruel. 
Your pace was set hard and fast, tugging the feathery stubs and enjoying the feel of his round, downy feathers where you held the base. Your grip was the only thing keeping Keigo as he resisted collapsing.
You were nice enough to occasionally reach down and give Keigo a few quick pumps, just enough so he’d crest again, sticking your hand so well and thick. The cum was smeared onto the fatty round of his ass with a slap or two. 
As much as it was a damn treat to see Keigo so fucked up and fucked, you let up when his orgasms were still hot and harsh, but his cock was nearly dry. It hardly sputtered anything, drained and sticky and overstimulated beyond belief.
“N-no more, no more!” Keigo sputtered as he trembled and convulsed with a dry, painful orgasm, your hand still fisting the sore flesh on his cock. 
You knew him well enough to stop then.
Your hips stilled, breath labored, though nothing like Keigo’s teary, nearly-dry sobs. He slowly fell into the sheets, aching body falling with nothing left to give. 
Everything was slow for a moment. 
You pulled out, graciously slow and tender, mindful of his raw state.
With a few skillful tugs, his wrists were free and unbound. Weak arms and shaking hands grabbed for you, needy as ever, but still, you could indulge him. 
‘Mommy, m-mommy, please,” Keigo tried to tug you down into the soaked sheets as you unbuckled the harness from around your hips. 
You raised an eyebrow, “Still needy?”
Keigo choked on something between a sob and scream, nodding and needing. 
(Completely wrecked, just as you craved and planned. He really was good.)
Your heart softened, the energy in the air diffusing as you freed his wings, coaxing them to stretch out and release any remaining bottled up tension.
And you fell into the bed with him, tugging your sweet boy to your chest and peppering kisses over his salt-slicked cheeks.
“You were wonderful dear, my good, sweet boy,” You layered on the praise, enjoying how his shudders came from your words as opposed to the discarded cock. 
Keigo opened his cracked lips but quickly closed them, settling before nuzzling under your chin and practically purring as he came down.
You always knew that you did your job well when Keigo was fucked silent. 
|||||||||||||||
thank you for reading 💞 
ko-fi
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Text
An Unfortunate Predicament
Warnings: tickling, fluff, maybe a little bit of reader crushing on a certain Asgardian
Word count: 2600
Honestly not sure where this came from, but I've dumped this silly idea out of my head and into this fic. Hopefully you find it amusing.
* * *
For the life of you, you don’t know how you ended up in this position.
Well, you do know how you got up here, at least. Tony had announced that he had a ropes course installed in the tower (for ‘additional training opportunities’ he insisted, although you all knew he just wanted an excuse to watch you all fall flat on your faces when you missed a step). Many of the Avengers were eager to try it out, especially Thor and Peter, who had giddily shoved their way to the front of the line to be the first to attempt the course.
You, on the other hand, had hung back from the group. You were afraid of heights, and while this ropes course wasn’t more than 6 or 7 feet off the ground, and there were soft rubbery mats underneath to break your fall should you slip, you couldn’t bring yourself to try it. Especially not in front of your teammates. No one knew about this little fear of yours, and you preferred to keep it that way to avoid being teased for being the only Avenger afraid of heights.
After a week or so, once the novelty had worn off for the rest of the team, you started to consider if maybe practicing on the course might help you to learn to get past this silly phobia. On a few occasions, you had casually made your way down to the gym where the ropes course was housed under the pretense of looking for someone, when really you were scoping it out to see if the room was unoccupied. Every time you tried, though, there was inevitably someone either practicing on the course or otherwise using some of the other gym equipment in the room. You much preferred that no one was there to witness you attempt it for the first time just in case you started to panic when you started to climb up that first rope ladder.
This morning, the other Avengers had disembarked on a mission before you had woken up for the day. This particular mission had no requirement for your talents, so you were able to stay behind and take a much-needed day to yourself. After lounging in bed for much of the morning, the notion crossed your mind that the gym would be completely and definitively empty for the afternoon.
And so, you made your way down to the gym and started slowly climbing up the ladder to the first platform. Once you reached the top and stood up, you looked down at the floor and felt your stomach drop just a bit. However, you steeled yourself and continued on across the swinging rope bridge in front of you. After a few obstacles, you had finally started to feel your fear start to ebb away as you became accustomed to the view. You started moving more quickly across the obstacles, now trying to see how fast you could get through the entire course.
Unfortunately, your rushing ended up being your downfall. You were crawling across a rope net to get to the next platform when suddenly you felt the net start to tip to the side. Normally, the purpose of the obstacle would have been to continue climbing upside down until you reached the other side. However, you had panicked at the sudden motion, stiffening as the net rolled over. Your leg slipped through one of the holes of the net, and somehow it twisted around your ankle enough to hold it in place while the rest of your body continued to flip over.
And now, here you were, hanging upside-down from this ropes course with your leg tangled in the net, blood rushing to your head as you tried to process what just happened. Your head was much closer to the ground now, at least, but it wasn’t quite close enough for you to reach the floor with your hands to try to gain leverage to untangle yourself. You tried to lift your upper body up in a sort of 180-degree sit-up to attempt to untangle your ankle from the net, but the rope was too taut for you to loosen it enough to pull your leg out. Frustrated, you relaxed your aching abdominal muscles and let yourself hang there, realizing with dread in the pit of your stomach that there was no one else in the compound to come help you escape.
Figuring you would have better luck getting yourself unhooked if you allowed yourself some time to rest, you let yourself just hang there and took a few deep breaths. Just as you were mustering up the strength to try again, a voice from the doorway caused you to jump in surprise.
“Well now. What an unfortunate predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”
No. Oh no. Literally anyone else could have walked in and you’d have felt some relief, that someone was going to help you get down from this trap. Why did it have to be Loki?
“Shut up,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest in an attempt to look annoyed despite your inverted position. “You could just help me down from here, you know.”
“I certainly could. But where would be the fun in that?” Loki strolled into the room, coming to a stop just a foot away from you. From this angle, you had to look down (or, rather, up) slightly to see his face, as your head hung at just about his shoulder level.
“What’s so fun about standing here and watching me hang upside-down?” you retorted. “Suppose I enjoy this?”
“If you did, you wouldn’t have just asked me to help you down, now would you?” Loki started to pace in a slow circle around you, forcing you to twist your neck and torso to be able to keep an eye on him. You knew better than to turn your back on the trickster by now. “Besides – if I recall, it was you who stole all of my books last week and hid them throughout the tower, hmm?”
You snickered at that. It was totally worth it to watch Loki storming around the tower, grumbling as he emptied drawers and crawled on the floor to look under furniture in hopes he would find his books. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t tried to prank you in return yet, but you had a feeling it was coming. Although, it seemed you had put yourself in just the position for him to exact his revenge without having to think of a prank.
“Oh yes, I’m sure you thought it was amusing then,” he growled, pacing back around in front of you and leaning down so his face was inches from yours as he glared at you. “You realize, I hope, that the others will not be back for at least another four hours?”
“What? I thought they were supposed to be home in an hour!” you exclaimed. Loki smirked.
“They are running a bit late. Ran into some minor complications during the mission. They should be leaving to head home in about an hour.”
You groaned at this revelation. You knew they were a three-hour plane ride away, and so if Loki was telling the truth, you would be dangling upside down for quite some time unless you convinced him to help you. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed your pride and started to plead.
“Loki… I’m sorry about your books, really. Please, could you help me get down?” you begged. His smirk only grew wider at this.
“You must be truly desperate, darling, to already be begging for me to help you,” he chuckled. You felt heat prickle in your cheeks, partially from embarrassment at having gotten yourself into this situation and partially from the unexpected thrill that rushed through your chest at the slow, smooth tone of his voice as he taunted you.
“If I admit it, will you finally help me get down?” you bartered, ready for this interaction to end so you could go hide in your room for the rest of the night in complete humiliation.
“Hmm. That certainly would help your case, but I’ll need a bit more than that,” he countered.
“Ugh, like what?” Loki thought for a moment, touching a finger to his chin.
“Admit that I am the superior prankster in the tower,” he demanded, “and that you never stood a chance against the all-mighty god of mischief. AND-“ he added, cutting you off as you opened your mouth to protest, “you have to say this to all of the Avengers when they return.”
“Ok, first of all, you know they’ll know you’re making me say it, so where’s the fun in it for you?” you quipped.
“I know. I also know how much embarrassment it will still cause you to have to say it out loud.” His smirk was practically wicked by this point.
“Alright, but suppose it does embarrass me that much - even if I agree to it, how do you know I won’t just go back on my word once you get me down?” you retorted.
“If you do, I will put you right back where I found you, and someone else will have to get you down,” he opposed. Your eyes widened, then narrowed indignantly.
“You wouldn’t.”
“We both know you know I would.”
“You are insufferable, you know that?” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Fine. I’ll do it. Just get me down.”
“A wise decision,” he declared. Loki stepped underneath the net and inspected the rope wrapped around your ankle. He reached up and tugged on it a bit to test how much give it would provide. “The rope is wound too tightly for me to unwind it,” he observed.
“Well, can’t you get me down some other way then?”
“I think if I lift you up enough that your weight isn’t holding the rope taut, you should be able to slip out of it,” he suggested. You nodded, willing to try anything at this point. He reached up and grabbed hold of your waist just above your hips, causing you to jerk involuntarily and let out a high-pitched squeak. You felt your stomach drop again, the same way it had when you’d first climbed up onto the ropes course, when you saw Loki’s expression morph from confusion to pure mischief.
“Wh-what are you giving me that look for?” you asked hesitantly, reaching up absentmindedly to pull your shirt down where a sliver of skin had been showing.
“Because I just learned something new about you, and I don’t think I’m quite ready to help you down just yet,” he explained, his tone ominous.
“Don’t… you… dare,” you growled.
“Darling, I don’t believe you’re in a position to be making threats,” he retorted, starting to pace around you again.
“Loki! Get back here where I can see yOU!” Your voice pitched up an octave as you felt him tweak your side. “I swear to god, Loki, I will hold you down and beat you senselehehehess!” You lost your composure as you felt ten slender fingers gently scratching at your sides just below your ribcage.
“You don’t sound very threatening, love,” Loki teased, working his torturous fingers up between your lower ribs. You couldn’t respond coherently anymore, batting at his hands and twisting around violently trying to escape his touch. “Maybe you should try again, but this time with a bit more malice in your tone.”
“I will kihihihill you!” you shrieked, uncontrollable giggles spilling from your mouth as his fingers traveled to your belly, his thumbs digging into your sides. Being upside-down, in addition to not being able to see his face with him standing behind you, made you feel incredibly exposed. You reached down and grasped both of his wrists, tugging as hard as you could to pull his hands away from your ticklish torso to no avail.
Loki thankfully paced back around in front of you, continuing to tickle you with one hand as he walked. You realized this was actually probably worse than when he was behind you because now you could see his amused expression, and you knew he could see the flustered flushing of your face. You tried your hardest to shoot him a menacing glare, which only succeeded in drawing a laugh from him as he latched both hands onto your upper ribs and continued to tickle you with renewed vigor.
“OK! OK! WAIHIHIT LOKI! I CAHAHAN’T!” you pleaded as he slipped his thumbs under your arms, his fingers wrapped around the back of your uppermost ribs and digging into your skin in the most agonizing way. You were thrashing violently now trying to evade his fingers, not noticing the rope looped around your ankle slipping.
The next thing you knew, your ankle slid out of the rope net above you, and you came crashing to the floor. Or, rather, you came crashing down onto Loki, who then crashed to the floor under the impact.
Relieved that at least he was no longer tickling you, you gasped for breath and pushed yourself up onto your hands. You heart skipped when you realized that your nose was practically touching his, but the shock caused your muscles to freeze. For a moment, Loki didn’t move either, looking straight into your eyes.
You finally regained your composure, deciding to play it off as if you’d found a way to beat him at his own game to hide the fact that your heart was pounding in your throat at the close contact. You grinned wickedly down at him.
“Looks like I got myself down, didn’t I?” you quipped. “Guess I don’t have to lie and say you’re the best prankster after all.”
Loki narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, which should have been your cue to get up, but before you realized it he had grabbed your arms and flipped you so he was now hovering over you. You looked up at him, bewildered, as he smirked evilly back at you.
“Oh darling, that was a mistake.” You jolted as his fingers once again made contact with your ribcage, unable to control the hysterical laughter bubbling from your chest as he dug his fingertips into every ticklish spot he could find. You kicked and scrambled to try to scoot away from him without success, his hands darting rapidly between your sides, belly, underarms, ribs, back to your belly…
“ALRIGHT! W-WAIT! S-STOP! I’LL SAY IT!” you begged, your muscles so weak from laughter now you could no longer fight back, lying there on the floor as he drove you into madness. At long last, he finally released you, moving away to kneel on the floor beside you. “Jeez, Loki… that was… that was evil,” you huffed, still breathless from his malicious attack.
“Maybe next time you’ll know not to mess with the god of mischief,” he warned, offering you a hand to help you sit up. “After all – now I know your weakness.” You blushed furiously, wrapping your arms subconsciously around your ribs as he deviously wiggled his fingers at you. Ready to finally go hide in your room, you picked yourself off the ground and started walking toward the door. “Don’t forget! I expect to see you in the common room when the others arrive home this evening!” he called after you. You turned and shot him one last glare before leaving the room.
You couldn’t make any promises that you’d actually show up. And if that meant he would come find you and torment you some more… well, you supposed you maybe wouldn’t mind.
Read part 2
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arlert-angel · 3 years
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love fast, die young ☪
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♡ jean x fem!reader
❥ you know that at any moment your life could be cut short as a scout, and the last thing you want is to die a virgin, so why not ask your best friend that you’re in love with for some help?
❥ wc: 5.8k
❥ cw: near death experience (reader), virgin!reader and virigin!jean, cannonverse but no plot, loss of virginity, slight size kink, cream pie, aftercare, fluff
❥ note: i was invested in the story of this one lol, it's a lot more romantic than i initially intended. they’re aged up, but the cannonverse details don’t make sense for the plot, so let’s pretend it does yay.
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Arriving back from expeditions was always an exhausting feat within itself, sometimes more so than the actual expedition. 
Commanding officers had to count their losses, healers had to tend to the wounded, and everyone who was good enough to stand had to report their kills and assists. Of course that was the immediate tasks that needed to take place, but then came the grief. Friends looked for one another, many people cried, and names could be heard shouted all around as everyone arrived at headquarters. 
You weren't that different, but you were silent as you scanned the crowd looking for your tall best friend. You knew he was with the best of the best in Levi's squad, so you weren't too worried. However, you also knew the previous best had been wiped out before the new group came. 
Anything could happen which made you all the more anxious. 
You and Jean were not on the same squad. You first were offered a position on the Levi squad with the rest of your friends, but then Hange handed picked you to help them with their experiments, claiming they needed your mind to work with them. Hange is very likeable and now one of your closest friends, and at the time it seemed impossible to say no to them.
Hange's and Levi's squad tended to work together a lot and definitely trained together, so you didn't miss your friends too much. It was only when expeditions approached and new formations were made, when you had to be separated from the rest of your 104th pals. 
You never complained about the separation. It wouldn't last forever, maybe a couple days at most, and then you return to laughing and working with the rest of your friends. You had no complaints until this particular expedition.
You had a close call.
In fact, so close, you might as well have kissed Death on the lips while you were so close to the afterlife. 
The mission was going according to plan. It was a simple scouting mission in the mountains that were, for the most part, titan free. Your squad was on the left flank of the formation, near the edge of the mountains. The cliff sides surrounding you guys held a beautiful, yet slightly scary view. The drop had to be at least 300 feet.
You should've known something bad was going to happen as soon as Hange called out, "Hey, Y/N, check it out!" But you weren't thinking that hard, for the day had been so peaceful. 
The path you all had taken was so close to the cliffs that the squad was riding single file for safety. There was enough room to pass one another, but you had to do so very carefully. 
You rode ahead, passing Moblit. You sent him a questioning look as went by, but he only shrugged, not knowing what Hange was raving over. When you slid off your horse and next to Hange you saw what they did.
A very large cave.
"Should we go inside?" Hange looked at you, clearly excited, but it was an awful idea.
"No!" You tried to sound stern, knowing how they needed a firm rejection or they'd always get what they wanted, "Do you see the size of the thing? This looks like a comfy home for a 10 meter titan, maybe even 15 meter class if they hunched over."
"Do you think they'd crawl around in there?!" Their eyes widened and the familiar look that you've seen so many times on their face appeared. It was their usual expression they had when you conducted experiments with them. You swore to yourself how you fed their curiosity on accident.
"What's going on?" Moblit now arrived, wondering what the hold up was about.
"They want to go inside that death trap," You pointed at the ominous cavern in front of you all. 
"You cannot be serious!" Moblit exclaimed in surprise, the volume echoing down the stone and dirt walls. Moblit continued his rant, stating the obvious, but you tuned their debate out. You just stared into what looked like an abyss. 
There was no movement, no noise, not even the breeze seemed to reach here.
But for some reason you had a gut feeling. A gut feeling that saved all of your lives.
"Move!" You shoved Hange into Moblit which effectively knocked them both to the side of the cave and used your ODM gear to swing yourself to the opposite side. 
The large hand reached out as you tried to get out of the way, but because you helped the others you weren't quick enough.
Luckily, the titan's grasp only managed to get tangled in your ODM wire and couldn’t quite reach your actual body. 
Unluckily, the titan was managing to drag you like a ragdoll and if you didn't do anything quickly you would be engulfed in the darkness where it was hidden, and then probably engulfed in it’s stomach. 
You had to think quick on your feet and so you drew your blades and slashed the wire on your gear all together. You could've attempted to slash at it's hands, but that was no guarantee. The wire was sliced with a clean snip.
Now you were free, you stumbled back at the loss of momentum. You took one two many steps back, and that last step didn't hit the gravely earth that the others had. 
Your foot didn't hit anything at all. 
You were about to fall off a cliff. 
Ironic to escape death one way only to quite literally fall into its clutches another way. 
But, you didn't fall. 
Your eyes were squeezed shut in absolute terror, and when you opened them at the lack of free fall, you saw Hange.
They had managed to save you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back on solid ground. Moblit had been keeping the titan at bay, and continued to do so as you and everyone else turned their horses carefully around. 
Thanks were shared by yourself, Hange, and Moblit at the different lucky saves. They praised your quick thinking and response. None of you actually saw the titan coming. You just knew. You seemed to recognize the familiar feeling of dread from the presence of a titan that wanted to eat you. Even if you couldn’t see it. 
Hange continuously apologized on the way back, but it wasn’t really their fault. It’s not like you actually entered the cave like they wanted. And it was probably a good thing you guys stopped when you did. If the group rode past the cave something worse might have happened.  
After that close call you wanted nothing more to find your best friend and have his familiar comfort.
"Y/N? Whatcha still doing out here?" You spun around quickly and saw Connie. 
“Oh, hey! I’m just looking for Jean, have you seen him?” You didn’t want to panic, but it was weird to see Connie without Jean. 
“Yeah! Mikasa killed this titan that had snuck up right above us and it’s blood got all over Jean it was so funny he screamed like a girl. But yeah, he went to the showers immediately,” Connie explained laughing at the memory. You laughed along and wished you could see it yourself.
“That’s funny, I should probably shower too, this mission felt particularly long,” You grumbled more to yourself than Connie, but he picked up on your off tone.
“Did something happen?” He asked genuinely concerned. You might’ve been closest to Jean, but Connie and Sasha were also very close to you. The four you always had the most fun together, and got in the most trouble. 
“Kind of, a titan snuck up on us too, but we were near the cliffs so there wasn’t all lot of room to work with. I almost fell, but on the bright side I overcame my fear of heights,” You laughed, but it was more anxious than joyful.
“Oh shit, that’s awful!” Connie’s eyes widened in horror, “I'll tell Jean to come find you when I see him.”
“What why?”
“You were looking for him right? He’d definitely want to know that you’re okay after that. He worries a lot, you know? It’s always: I hope Y/N okay, where’s Hange’s squad again, I wish Y/N was here, Y/N would love this view. Someone has to tell him to shut up at least once every expedition.” Connie actually did an okay Jean impression as he ranted to you, but you didn’t comment on it. 
You were too surprised. You didn’t know Jean worried about you. He never once came to you with any fears about expeditions. He always asked you what happened, but that’s just a normal conversation. It wasn’t too strange for someone’s best friend to think about them when apart. What was strange was the happy feeling you got knowing that Jean couldn’t shut up about you. A weird fluttery feeling danced in your stomach and you felt almost giddy.  
Connie noticed your lack of response and noticeably paled. 
“Fuck, wait, I didn’t tell you that! Jean’s gonna kill me, Y/N please don’t tell him I told you!” He grabbed onto you, begging. He shook you enough that it got you out of your confusing thoughts.
“Um, okay? I don't see what the big deal is. I think about Jean on expeditions too, that’s not weird right?” You smiled reassuringly and Connie’s whole body sagged in relief.
“Not at all! Have a nice shower!” Connie ran away, actually ran, trying to separate himself from that conversation. He thanked the Walls that you couldn’t read between the lines. 
After that odd conversation you got a change of clothes and towel, and then headed towards the showers. You passed Sasha and Mikasa on the way in and they both gave you pleasant greetings, all parties glad to see each other alive and well.
You tried not to overthink, but the hot shower gave you all the time to do so.
Your thoughts jumped from almost dying, to Jean, to these overwhelming feelings you seemed to harbor.
You knew you loved Jean. You both even told each other sometimes. Your mind never wandered further than viewing Jean as your best friend only because you didn’t think that’s what he’d want. 
When you first met Jean you had a small crush on him, admiring him from afar until Marco introduced the two of you. Once you grew closer and noticed his infatuation with Mikasa your feelings sizzled out in a bitter simmer. Your bitterness didn’t last long though, you were happy you had someone to rely on no matter what. After Marco passed, Jean was your crutch and vise versa. Romance would only make things confusing and besides you didn’t have any experience in the matter. 
But now as you think more and more about him you wondered if those feelings ever went away. You thought about his laugh and stupid tone he gets when he tries to act cocky. You thought about his eyes and how pretty they look in the sunlight. You thought about his ability to read your mind without you having to tell him something’s wrong. He was your person. 
You came to the conclusion that there definitely was something more than platonic there, but there was no certainty he felt the same. He would’ve said something by now. When he liked Mikasa he was so obvious, openly talking about her to everyone. You would’ve known something by now if it were the case, right? You knew he didn’t like Mikasa now, he told you explicitly for some reason, stating you needed to know. He also didn’t talk about liking anybody new. 
Sighing in frustration, you turned off the shower, now squeaky clean. What was supposed to be a relaxing shower just stressed you out because of your stupid brain’s overthinking. 
And it didn’t stop. As you dropped your messy uniform in the laundry, it reminded you of the day.   
Today proved that any moment could be your last. Being in the scouts has always been dangerous, and you knew you were a disposable soldier. You didn’t mind it much, but now you realized how little you had experienced. You had never been drunk, your only kiss was with Marco in a game of truth or dare, and you were a virgin. 
You didn’t want to die a virgin.
You thought of Jean. You wanted to be with him at least once before you died. You didn’t want to die without knowing how it felt to have everything with Jean. Your love for him definitely wasn’t platonic. You didn’t want to die without him knowing.
Your mind made up, you walked the halls with a little more determination than usual. You wandered around for only a couple minutes before running into Eren.
“Horseface is looking for you,” He pointed around the corner. You gave a quick thanks before quickly going in that direction only to collide with the person you were searching for.
“Y/N!” Jean surprised you by pulling you in a tight hug. As he pulled away he took note of the blush that was now on your cheeks, but didn’t comment. He also didn’t let you go completely, leaving his hands on your shoulders. Unable to help himself.
“Hey, I was looking for you,” You smiled genuinely, only slightly nervous now. Even with the giddiness he gave you, he still managed to calm you down.
“Me too, Connie said something happened with your squad, so I asked Hange about it and they told me everything,” His eyebrows were pulled into a worried furrow, “I wish you were in our squad.”
“Me too, but I like being with Hange too,” You stated honestly, “But it’s alright, everything worked out in the end.” 
“Yeah, but you almost fell off a cliff! Y/N if I lost you I’d…” He cleared his throat before shaking himself out of his thoughts, “I’m just glad you’re okay. You said you were looking for me, what for?”
“Oh! Um…” You looked around and saw Eren eavesdropping blatantly with a knowing look, causing you to quickly turn back around, “Can I talk to you in my room about something?” You shift your weight from side to side, visibly jittery. 
“Sure?” Jean was confused and noted you looked more flustered than before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong like he usually could. 
You walked side by side, passing Eren along the way who gave you both a smug wave. When Jean wasn’t looking you turned around and gave him the finger. The walk was silent and your hands brushed each other softly.
Once you were behind closed doors you felt yourself relax a little more. It was just Jean, you hyped yourself up. Even if he did reject you the worst thing that could happen is him make a stupid joke out of everything, but you doubt he would. You knew he at least respected you.
“So, what’s so serious that you needed to be away from nosy Yeager?” So he did see that ass listening, you thought. 
“Well… You know about my close call today… It got me thinking,” You started safely.
“You can think? Like, there’s a brain in there?” Jean acted surprised and grabbed your head teasingly.
“Shut up,” You laughed and slapped his hands away before adding, “It’s serious.”
“Okay,” He took a seat on your bed comfortably, an action that was not unusual, you hung out in each other’s room all the time. He gave you his full attention, no longer joking around.
“I thought about how at any moment we can die, that sounds morbid, but it’s true. And then I thought about all the stuff I haven’t done and all the things I haven’t said,” You explained further, still not getting to the point. 
“So, you want to make a bucket list?” Jean tilted his head, trying to follow, “That’d be fun.”
“No,” You rolled your eyes lovingly, “I, more specifically, thought about all the stuff we haven’t done together.” 
“Oh, you want to make a bucket list together!” Jean perked up.
“Jean stop trying to guess and let me explain,” You laughed and he complied, pretending to zip his lips shut.
“Jean,” You approached the man, invading his personal space, “I don’t want to die a virgin, do you?”
“No…” Jean blushed at the sudden topic change, wondering why on earth you were bringing that up right now.
“And…  I love you, and I know you'd treat me right,” You cupped his cheeks in your hands. You were standing in between his legs now, him leaning back on his hands looking up at you. He was tall, so he didn’t have to tilt his neck that much. 
“I love you too, what are you going on about?” His face was drawn in clear confusion, a cute expression, if he wasn’t being so frustrating. 
“No, Jean,” You leaned impossibly close, your face right in front of his, “I’m in love with you.” 
Then you boldly straddled him before you planted your lips on him.
You were shy, unsure if he would reciprocate the kiss, and it seemed like he wasn’t.  You panicked instantly. Your heart was pounding and you pulled away. You were terrified you screwed everything up. You looked at him and he seemed to be frozen.
“Jean?” You worriedly looked at your catatonic friend whose eyes were wide in shock, “I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry! Please don’t hate me!” You began to try to climb off him, but his hands shot to your hips, holding you in place.
“Y/N, you’re in love with me?” He still seemed to be stunned, or maybe he didn’t believe you, but he held your gaze with serious eyes. 
“Yes,” You made sure to keep eye contact despite the heat that rose to your cheeks, to make sure he knew you were dead serious. 
“Good,” One of his hands left your hips to your cheek. He guided your mouth back to his.
He was kissing you. He was actually kissing you. It was slow and sweet at first. He stroked your cheek lovingly and your lips slowly moved in sync. It was when you repositioned yourself on his lap, accidently grinding into him, when the kisses started to become more feverish. He groaned into your mouth and the hand left your face and found it’s new home on your ass. He squeezed it harshly, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours. He surprised you when he sucked on your tongue, making a small whimper escape you. 
Jean pulled away, taking in your flustered state with blown pupils of his own. Both of your lips were swollen and you both needed to catch your breath. 
“I love you too, you know?” Jean pushed some of your hair out of your face with a soft smile, “I figured you didn’t feel the same and wanted to just be friends, so I didn’t say anything.”
“I thought the same, or that you might still like Mikasa,” You admitted shyly, looking down where your bodies met.
“Hey,” He tilted your chin so you held eye contact again, “That was a stupid crush when I was kid, and I told you that ended a long time ago, didn't I? I’m in love with you.”
“We were so stupid keeping it to ourselves,” You laughed and Jean openly admired you in what looked like awe. His gaze made you feel bashful, almost wanting to hide your face with your hands.
“We were, I could have been kissing you so much sooner,” Jean mumbled, already leaning back to you. This time when your lips met your tongues danced together immediately. You knew Jean also didn't have much experience, but with the way he kissed it seemed like he did. 
"Did you mean what you said?" Jean pulled away only for a moment to ask before returning right back to your lips. 
You pulled away, trying to decipher what he was referring to. "Wha–" Your breath hitched when you felt Jean kiss your pulse on your neck. He began sucking on a particular spot that made you moan, surprising both of you. 
"You're so beautiful," He commented then explained, "Did you mean what you said about that virgin stuff?" He seemed shy all of sudden, his hands were sliding from your hips to your thighs, almost like he was trying to soothe himself.
"I meant every word," You said honestly, "I want to experience all of you."
"God," Jean seemed to like that statement, "I don't know what I'm doing, so just know I'm learning as I go. Just tell me what you like and don't like."
"Of course," You gave him a reassuring smile, "I'm not worried, I trust you."
"Good," He said again before spinning you around and lightly throwing you on your bed. He hovered over you, not putting much, if any weight on you. He resumed the make out session, but this time letting his hands wander.
He first tugged at your shirt, which you helped him quickly pull over your head. You hadn't worn a bra, assuming your plans for this evening were eating then just passing out. 
Jean seemed to drink your body in, just staring in lust and awe. 
"You can touch me," You tried to sound reassuring, but it sounded more like a beg. 
Jean took your breasts in his large hands and just felt you. You almost laughed at how mesmerized he looked, but that was when he latched his mouth on your nipple. That action seemed to send a current of electricity straight to the heat in between your legs. You arched your back and let out a surprised moan which made Jean quickly pull away. 
"Did I hurt you?" He looked scared.
"No, it feels good," You murmured as you unconsciously rolled your hips wanting friction.
"Oh, that's good," He shot you a grin before throwing his own shirt to the side. He went back to kissing your chest, this time his hand tweaked the nipple he wasn't sucking on, causing even more pleasure. You bit your lip only letting out whimpers, a little embarrassed of moaning so loudly again. 
"J-Jean," You stuttered out, gripping his broad shoulders.
"Hmm?" He hummed, he had been having fun leaving purple marks across your tits.
"I-I need…" You didn't finish.
"What do you need, princess?" He asked genuinely, but his deep tone sent shivers down your spine.
"More, I don't know," You admitted.
"Okay, don't worry," He gave you a peck, "I'll take care of you."
He began taking off your pants, helping you get them off your ankles. He stood to take off his own pants as you admired him. His body was so toned from the life of being a soldier. As you took him all in your eyes landed on the bulge that was very prominent in his briefs and for the first time you felt nerves about having sex with him. 
"Jean, how the hell is that supposed to fit in me?" You didn't even see it out of it's cage, you couldn't imagine that monster in action. 
"It has to fit right? People have sex all the time," Jean looked down at his own dick before looking at your panties with a frown, "I'll make sure to stretch you out with my fingers to help."
"What do you mean?" You blushed as Jean returned his body on top of you, giving you warmth again. This time putting a little more weight than last time. You could feel his restrained cock against you this time. 
"You know, fingering, you've done it to yourself before right?" Jean asked curiously. 
"I've tried, but I couldn't reach any particular spots that made me feel good, so I mostly just got off with my clit," You explained, a little embarrassed. 
"Well, I have long fingers," Jean began to slip off your last item of clothing. You gulped nervously, you now were exposed completely to him.
"So pretty, and you're wet," He groaned and looked back up to you, "Open your mouth."
You almost asked why, but you didn't want to kill the mood, so you complied. Jean slid two fingers into your mouth and you got the message. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks, sucking on them. 
"Fuck," He sighed out and you felt him twitch against you. 
He pulled his fingers out and moved them back between your legs. He first slowly thrusted one finger inside you, to get you used to the unfamiliar feeling. The stretch wasn't too painful, and he was definitely right. His fingers were longer. 
He moved the one finger in and out of you slowly at first, picking up the pace as he continued. When he felt you relax completely he added a second finger. This time the stretch was a little more, making you tense.
"You're so tight," Jean was watching your pussy in wonder and slid his body down, so his face was near it. 
"What are you– Oh my God," Jean's lips sucked on your clit softly, then continuously kitten licked it, all while maintaining his finger thrusts.
"You taste good," Jean said it so casually, you'd think he was talking about the weather. He removed his fingers for a moment to get a better taste. He kissed you directly on your cunt before penetrating you with his tongue. He moaned against you, sending vibrations into you. You tried to unconsciously escape the pleasure, your thighs attempting to close, but Jean's large hands held you down. 
He returned his fingers inside you and this time adding a third. It stung more than before, but Jean's mouth on your clit made you forget all about the uncomfortableness. He began curling his fingers inside you reaching a spot that instantly had a knot forming in your stomach. Your hands shot around you, one gripping the sheets and the other in Jean's hair. 
He latched onto clit again and you gave up on trying to quiet your moans, embarrassment be damned, it felt too good.
"Jean," You moaned his name, which only made him moan back in return, "I-I'm going to…" You whined a little, not quite there yet, but right on the edge.
"You're going to cum?" Jean asked, not even completely pulled away from your clit to do so, "Go ahead and cum on my fingers, baby." He quickened his strokes and returned to your clit. It was just enough to send you over.
You grinded into his hand and cried out. Jean moaned too as if he was being pleasured just at the sight of you or maybe it was because of the sensation of your tight pussy clamping around his fingers. He couldn't help himself and licked up some of your release, making you jump. 
He moved back up to you with a content smile, "Did that feel good?" 
"Yeah," You smiled back through half lidded eyes, still buzzing from the pleasure.
He gave you a deep kiss and you could taste yourself on him. Tasting your own saccharine flavor was strangely erotic. 
Jean pulled away, "Is it alright if I take my cock out?" He asked beforehand just in case you changed your mind. 
"Yeah, of course, I want to see the monster that's going to destroy me," You joked and earned yourself a cocky smirk.
Jean took off the only clothing that was separating the two of you. You glanced down and saw his size more visibly now. You were right to be intimidated before, he was huge. Jean seemed to take note of your apprehensive expression so he returned to giving you some kisses in order to soothe you. 
“We’ll take it slow and if it’s too much just tell me,” Jean assured you which helped calm you down. 
“Okay, I’m ready,” Your eyes met as he began to rub the head up and down between your folds, collecting its wetness. He rubbed it over your clit and back down, making you feel particularly tingly. When he started pushing the head inside you had to remind yourself to not tense up, but it was hard. He was stretching a lot more than his fingers did. His cock added an unfamiliar pressure inside you that his fingers didn’t.
“God, that’s just the head and you're already squeezing me,” Jean threw his head back trying to regain composure. It was also his first time and he did not want to embarrass himself by finishing quickly. Also the gentlemen inside him wanted to feel you cum around him first.
He slowly continued to push further in as you grabbed his arms to brace yourself. When he finally bottomed out you swore you could see the bulge on your tummy. He kept still and waited for you to give him the go ahead even though he had the incredible urge to just thrust forward.
“You alright?” Jean's voice was more strained than usual.
“Yeah, why the fuck you gotta be so big, Jean,” Which only made Jean smile and give an apology kiss. You took a few more moments getting used to the stretch when the pleasure overtook the pain. You felt the veins on his cock inside you. You felt so full, but so good. You grinded into him trying to feel more and Jean noticed.
“I’m going to start moving now,” Jean warned and began pulling back before snapping his hips forward. You both cried out how he filled you up, your walls fluttering around him.
The pace was unrushed and steady to begin with. He withdrew his cock only to plunge it back into you, hitting you deep, in a repetitive matter. You felt the pleasure everywhere, all the way in your toes. 
You started meeting his thrusts, moving your hips in order to do so. Jean hitched your leg higher which only made you feel him deeper, hitting a sweet spot that caused you to gasp.
“You can go faster,” You said breathlessly, “Please, Jean, it feels so good.”
“Fuck,” Jean moaned back, his slow deep thrusts turned into a quick pounding. He continuously hit that new spot every time. Your whimpers turned into uncontrollable moans. Not wanting to make too much noise you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, sucking and biting his skin. 
You briefly looked down where your bodies met and saw him pumping out of you, your slick covering his cock and your thighs. The sight made your eyes roll back into your head.
“Please,” You moaned into Jean who brought his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Please, what? What do you want, princess?” He grunted a bit after, not once did he lose his pace.
“I want… Ah… Please, I don’t know,” You felt like you could cry, you were right on the edge. You didn’t know what you needed, but you felt too good to try to figure it out. You figured he was close too by the way he was twitching inside your pussy and his thrusts became a little more desperate. 
“Open,” Jean brought his fingers back to your mouth, groaning at the sensation. He kept them there for a few more moments than necessary, just enjoying the way you looked with your pretty lips wrapped around him. 
Then he brought them between your legs and began rubbing your clit at the same pace he was thrusting into you.
“J-Jean, I’m gonna cum,” You grabbed his wrist, almost overwhelmed by the feeling. 
You cried out his name as your pussy milked him, triggering his own release. He groaned your name as he came. You felt the warmth of him spill deep inside you and it made your pussy tremble all the more. He gave a few final thrusts before slumping on top of you.
“Look at me while you cum, princess, come on, cum on my cock,” He encouraged you. You held eye contact for as long as you could, but when that coil in your tummy snapped you had to squeeze your eyes shut in absolute bliss.
“We definitely should’ve done that sooner,” He mumbled into your hair, making you giggle.
“Definitely,” You echoed back.
He slid out of you after that, making both of your bodies shudder at the loss of connection. You pussy still trying to pulse around something.
“I just showered,” You commented with a frown, looking at the mess between your legs. 
“I’ll go get a towel?” Jean offered, and you gave him a nod. He redressed quickly, kissed you deeply, then stated he would be back soon.
You threw your shirt back on while you waited. You felt so sleepy after that. Even though you wanted to feel clean, you wished you cuddled with Jean some more, already missing him.
After a couple more minutes the silence was broken.
 “I knew it!” You heard Eren’s familiar voice shout from outside your door and you sat up confused.
“Shut the fuck up before I hit you!” You heard Jean’s voice shout back and then a few more quieter exchanges that you couldn’t make out from the two men. Then your door opened fast, Jean slipping quickly inside, locking it behind him. In one hand he had a warm towel and in the other he had a new set of sheets. 
“What happened?” You pointed at the door and Jean scowled.
“Apparently those assholes bet on when we’d finally hook up,” Jean explained before cleaning you up. You blushed as he took care of you. Despite what just took place you still felt embarrassed. Jean noticed and just pecked your cheeks.
“That’s kind of funny, we should’ve placed our own bets,” You hummed and stood shakily, grabbing a new pair of underwear as Jean changed your sheets for you. 
“I can’t believe Eren won,” Jean frowned, but when your arms wrapped around him from behind he couldn’t help but smile.
“Will you stay with me? I kind of want to nap,” You mumbled into his back.
“Of course,” You both returned to your bed this time with more innocent intentions.
Jean laid on his back and you threw your arm around his chest and your leg over his, snuggling up into his side.
“I don’t want to die,” You murmured sleepily.
“You won’t,” Jean stated firmly.
“How do you know?” You looked up at him.
“Because we both have something to live for,” He met your gaze softly, before kissing your head again.
You told each other you loved another once again before you both fell asleep. It was a sleep where neither of you had the common nightmare about your untimely deaths. 
Instead it was a sleep where you both dreamt of the future you now could have with one another.
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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years
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make me be true, make me be blue // Anthony Bridgerton
A/N: As much as I love Benedict, I also love Anthony. The last part of this is extremely inspired by a scene from The Crown - let’s see if you can guess which one! Title: Harry Connick jr - It Had To Be You
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: arguing, an argument, lots of love and fluff, caring, established relationship, married couple, suggestiveness, female pronouns, use of word ‘wife’. 
Word count: 2.8k
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As the season in London drew to a close, it could be seen on every face that they were tired of the dancing and the music and the lukewarm lemonade. It was never a comment on the talent of the musicians unless, perhaps, it was a Smythe-Smith musical. Their seasonal musical was never welcomed with much excitement, but very few could say no to the quartet of young women.
Nevertheless, whomever the artist may be, many were glad for the season to draw to a close. Sighing tiredly, you bid your goodbyes to the latest lady to draw you into conversation. Your lavender skirts swish gently under foot as you wander around the lavishly decorated ballroom, in search for your dear husband.
You spy his hair first; the dark brown hair standing a head taller than the rest of the men he currently spoke with. Repressing another tired sigh, you note that the elderly white-haired men Anthony was standing with were of large importance in society.
“The Revolution was over two decades ago, and it seems France traded in one monarch for another,” is what you hear as you sidle up to Anthony. He smiles down at you, hooking his arm through yours, before turning his attention back to the conversation.
Anthony nods along; his interest piqued but not to the point where he would happily contribute to the debate. Instead, he simply offers, “True, a king for an emperor.”
“Surely Napoleon is still in exile,” You comment lightly, eyebrows furrowing at the topic of conversation between the men. They would never see a day of war between them; having enough money between them meaning they would not have dress in a uniform. As such, there was no need for the conversation.
“Dear girl, Napoleon left Elba and landed back in Paris last week. Do you read the papers?” Lord Hugo states, a dismissive look on his face as if questioning your very presence in the conversation. He frowns at your comfortable stance next to your husband, wondering why you aren’t socialising with the other wives.
A flush heats your body; rising anger. Turning to Anthony, you squeeze the hand that rests on his forearm, a silent plea for help but your husband remains silent.
Ducking your head, you state through clenched teeth, “Pardon me, Lord Hugo. I must be making a round of the room; I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was neglecting my womanly duties.”
“As you should,” The Lord replies as you turn your back to him. You bristle from the comment, back straightening despite the corset designed to do such an action. It wouldn’t be long now until Anthony wrapped up the conversation; seeking you out through the crowd. For you however, the ball was over – nothing left to be said.
------------
Stalking through the large house, you ignore the increasing calls of your husband. Having left the carriage in a hurry of skirts, silks and ribbons, Anthony had begun immediately calling your name – wanting you to stop and wait, to stop and listen.
Even the Butler remains silent as he catches a glimpse of your face and the thunderous expression it currently holds. Silently, the Butler offers a prayer for the wellbeing of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.
“You’re really going to remain silent?” Anthony calls from the bottom of the staircase, one foot poised on the bottom step, ready to launch himself upstairs at a moment’s call.
Pausing in your retreat, you throw a glare at your husband. A look that definitely shows you were not up for talking on the stairs.
Anthony nods, seemingly understanding this. “So it’s the silent treatment until we’re in our room,” He pauses, beginning the ascent to the bedroom he has shared with you since the first night of your marriage, “Understandable.”
You roll your eyes, walking away from the man that had managed to vex you so thoroughly.
Shoving open the door to your shared bedroom does little to siphon off some of the anger you feel. In fact, it only increases when you try to work the laces of your dress free by yourself, frustrated tears brewing in the corner of your eyes as you manoeuvre yourself into every position possible to try and free yourself.
Slumping at your dressing table, you come to realise that it was more humiliation that you felt.
Your husband was a marvellous man; intelligent, funny, respectful and incredibly handsome. Yet, he had moments where he could so fantastically obtuse.
The moment played in your mind on a constant loop; the words of disdain from the Lord, Anthony’s silence. A constant loop in your mind; it would be a while before your mind rested enough to let you have some peace.
Brushing your hands through your hair, you loosen the pins that keep in place, beginning the painstaking process of removing them. All the while thinking that if the night had gone better, Anthony would be the one removing them, offering you a kiss for each pin removed.
--------
Anthony had taken his time walking to the bedroom, running through the events of the evening, thinking where he might have gone wrong – said the wrong thing, done the wrong thing. He found the moment; realised what he had said or rather, what he hadn’t said, and how it had come across. Lord Hugo was an incredibly influential man, and whilst Anthony outranked him in his peerage, his youth made him all but an inexperienced whelp in Hugo’s eyes.
Hindsight was truly an excellent gift to possess. He should have said something; Hugo’s influence be damned. He should have spoken up; should have defended you.
Gently, he rests his forehead against the closed door of the bedroom. He takes a deep breath and places a hand on the wooden panel; desperate to reach through to you, but he knows that there is far more on your mind than comfort at this point.
Anthony enters the bedroom slowly, closing the door softly behind him. “Are you ready to talk me now, darling?” Anthony asks, voice soft but tone wary as he takes in your defeated state.
“You humiliated me in front of that odious man by staying silent.”
His eyes widen; truly unaware of such a misdeed taking place. “I didn’t know, truly.”
“That’s what hurts most, Anthony. This is not a marriage of equals, darling. I know you love me as much as I love you, but I have brought nothing to this marriage. I did not get the pleasure to go to university despite doing so well in my studies. I cannot travel freely, and I cannot speak my mind whenever I damn well please. There are going to be some topics that I am not going to be an expert on, but you can try your best not to defend me when I get things wrong.”
“Darling, I didn’t mean any harm.”
You sniffle, wiping away the few tears that have dared to fall. “I know you didn’t, yet it still happened.”
Anthony opens and closes his mouth, searching for something – anything – to say that could make this better, but nothing comes to mind, so nothing leaves his mouth.
A pained noise leaves your lips as you turn away from your husband, reaching for your face cream, your hairbrush – anything to keep your hands busy and the tears at bay.
Finally, a sigh is all you hear, and you figure that the conversation is done for the evening. A lingering kiss is placed to the top of your head before Anthony leaves the bedroom, presumably retiring to his study.
Once free of the confines your dress, you dress for bed, crawling under the covers. Running a hand down your face, you couldn’t help but hope Anthony would join you soon. Despite the anger you felt at the man, you couldn’t fall asleep without him next to you.
---------
You wake alone. Anthony’s side of the bed is ruffled; he had joined you an hour after you had slide under the covers. He hadn’t said anything; he had simply gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly, pressing apologetic kiss after apologetic kiss to whatever piece of bare skin he could reach.
Stretching a hand to his side of the bed, the sheets are cold. Reaching for his pillow, you hold it to your face, inhaling the spiciness of whatever cologne he used last night. Keeping the pillow close, you turn onto your back, thinking over the events of last night.
You had every right to be annoyed; you had every right to feel the way you did. If this was a different society, you would not rely on Anthony to defend you – you would have spoken your mind to Lord Hugo. But this was not a different society, and its trappings were stifling. For the hope of future generations, you couldn’t help but pray things would soon change.
------------
The day moves slowly. Tea with Anthony’s mother and sisters followed by a visit to the modiste. No sign of Anthony with every visit home and your mood drops with every shake of the Butler’s head.
Eventually, you find refuge in the library, searching through the books and the papers there. It had been so long since you had read something that was not a romance. Pride and Prejudice had been published just two years ago and you had read it countless times; enjoying the author’s way with words and her creation of Mr. Darcy. However, instead of picking up the latest romance, you chose to return to the books you had so adored in your education – historical accounts of past monarchs and their reigns, accounts of wars.
It was not for the sake of Lord Hugo who sneered at you with such derision; it was for your benefit. Knowledge was free and you owned the library through marriage, why shouldn’t you take a look?
-----------
The Butler clearing his throat is what brings your attention back to the present. Having lost yourself so freely in an account of the witch hunts that had plagued the north of England; the book had caught your eye, tucked away and gathering dust. The subject had immediately caught your interest, and you soon found yourself searching for all the books you could on the subject.
Smiling sheepishly at the Butler, you ask, “Have some guests arrived? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
He shakes his head, smiling fondly at you, “I thought you would like to know that the Viscount has returned home. He is currently in his study.”
Standing from your chair, you deposit your book on a table before thanking the Butler and rushing up the stairs to Anthony’s study. You pause just outside the door, gathering yourself, tidying your appearance and slowing your breathing to an acceptable rate.
Knocking on the door, your heart begins to pound in your chest as you hear his warm voice giving you permission to enter.
Anthony freezes in his chair when he sees you enter his study. Your eyes are bright and there’s a faint flush to your skin that has Anthony’s eyes raking over your body, curious to know what’s caused such a reaction in you.
“Darling,” He greets, voice kind and warm.
“Darling,” You reply, watching the smile grow across his face when he hears the fondness in your voice.
“How has your day been?” Anthony asks, drawing out the inevitable conversation.
You smile widely, “I spent most of it in the library, reading.”
“A new romance novel?”
You shake your head, smoothing down the skirts of your sage green dress, “The trials of the Berwick and Pendle witches.”
Anthony’s eyes widen almost comically. “I didn’t even know we had books on the topic.”
“Neither did I, but I’ve been reading through the accounts all day. It truly is fascinating. Did you know History was my strongest subject when I was in education?”
Again, Anthony shakes his head. He didn’t know; he hadn’t asked. You shrug, “Arithmetic, Geography, Latin… They never grasped me as much as History did. I would read for hours about whatever I could find: the Tudors, the Saxons, military strategy…” At the further widening of Anthony’s eyes, you continue, “I suppose as I grew older and I was then out as a debutante, I lost the habit.”
“Perhaps,” Anthony murmurs before saying, “You can always find the habit again.”
You smile widely; the grin brightening your face as it stretches to your eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that darling,” You begin, “I want to be more involved, Anthony. I don’t want to be a silent partner; I want to be there; I want to comment. I want to know what is happening with foreign affairs whether it is Napoleon or the price of tea. I want to know because I want to be on a more equal footing with you. I refuse to be humiliated that way again; it was awful, to be dismissed in that manner by that loathsome man.”
You stand before your husband, chest heaving in your restrictive dress. The words lay loud in the room; your plea for Anthony to speak up for you, your demand for further equality in your marriage.
“I called on Lord Hugo this afternoon,” Anthony states rather plainly after you fall silent, as if the meeting had been in his date book for months.
“You did?” You frown at him; wondering whether he had heard a single word that you had flung into the great expanse.
He nods. “He was rather surprised to see me. I’ll admit I didn’t plan on calling on him, but I kept thinking of last night and how destroyed you looked. I don’t ever want to see that look on your face again for as long as I shall live. So,” He shrugs, “I paid the Lord a visit.”
“How did it go?”
Anthony holds his right up and it is then that you see the dark purple now beginning to bruise his knuckles. “I may have lost my temper when I remembered how he spoke to you and how you felt afterwards,” Anthony pauses and then laughs loudly, “And I may have punched him in the face.”
“Anthony!” You berate, repressing the urge to roll your eyes at your ever vexing husband. “Is anything broken?”
He shakes his head, smiling widely, “Only Hugo’s nose.”
“My hero,” You drawl, heart racing as you take in the man that you married. The smart, brilliant and hot-headed man that you promised your forever to who had defended your honour against the man who had rudely spoken to you last night. He grins cheekily at your words, wiggling his fingers to show you that there was nothing broken – he was fine.
“You can read whatever you’d like,” He states firmly, “You can study whatever you like. Humiliate the man if there’s a next time.”
“Thank you,” You reply, holding your head high as you smile gratefully at the love of your life.
Anthony stands from his chair, having now recovered from the shock of your speech and the ease of which he can accept your demands. He had never been the easiest man to get along with; stubborn and set in his ways long before he ought to have been, but you had taken him in your stride, loving him just as fiercely as he loved you.
He rounds the desk. All the while his gaze does not leave yours. A sensual smile spreads across his face as he watches you wring your hands together – a nervous tic if there ever was any.
Leaning against the desk, Anthony crosses his ankles, resting hands upon the lip of his desk. He remains happy in the knowledge that even after the honeymoon period of your marriage was over, you would still track his every move. Your eyes dancing over his figure as he rests his weight upon the desk.
“There’s something different about you,” He finally says, breaking the silence of the room.
“Oh?” You whisper, your shoulders rolling back as you try to think about what could have changed – a new dress? A new attitude?
“You’re surer of yourself. It makes you look taller.”
“I don’t particularly think I’ve gained any height.”
“Perhaps not,” Anthony allows; a seductive smile on his face as he tilts his head to one side, regarding you. “But it presents me with two options.”
“And they are?”
“Well,” He begins, running a hand through his thick hair, “I could go and find a ladder to reach the new height of my tall wife or…”
Anthony trails off, leaving you in suspense as you find yourself taking those first few steps closer to him. Desperate to be in his arms, to be touched by the man you love - body and soul.
“Or…” You breathe; voice raspy with growing need.
“Or” Anthony beams, “She can get on her knees.”
***********
Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​
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lacroixqueen · 2 years
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arcane academia (chapter 2/?) cait x vi college AU, 18+
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Summary: vi and ekko go to jayce's frat house party lmao. vi bumps into her newfound crush, drama and chaos ensue yada yada yada
Word Count: 2176
Pairing: caitlyn x vi, vi & ekko (platonic)
Ao3 Link
Tags: college AU, university AU, house party, useless lesbians, wlw, fluff, slow burn, love at first sight
Warnings: brief mentions of dubious/noncon!
Author's Note: this chapter took me FOREVER to write and im so so sorry. i've just been having major writer's block again. med school has been insane, just exam after exam after exam and i cant catch a break. also im going to like 3 concerts this week so i probs wont have that much time to write. but anyways, pls enjoy this update.
Vi shuffled begrudgingly after Ekko as he led her down the brickstone path to what he claimed to be was “the biggest party of the year”. Vi was never a big partier, even back in Zaun. Now, don’t get her wrong, she was an alcoholic to be sure, and would have been more than content hitting up a bar or a club and drinking the night away.
But some schmoozy house party sounded like, and in her words, a “lame rich kids thing”. To which Ekko responded that she should loosen up and be a bit more open-minded.
Vi shoved her hands into her red jacket’s pockets. Shit. Why was it so goddamn chilly tonight? Out of all the days of the week to throw a party, it had to be the coldest night ever. The only reason she agreed to come to begin with was the free booze.
Ekko eventually approached a sizable frat house that looked like it was about to combust with all of the epilepsy-inducing strobe lights and obnoxiously loud trap music it emitted. He strode up onto the porch and knocked the door with a feigned air of confidence.
Some beefy, clearly irritated fraternity brother answered the door. He had neat, slicked back dark hair and some stubble. And probably the grumpiest expression Vi has seen since she stepped foot onto PiltU.
“Jayce! My brother!” Ekko gave him a warm, half-hug to which the other man barely reciprocated.
“Do I uh, know you?” he asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He appeared to be slightly inebriated, which was understandable given the circumstances.
“Aw, come on dude!” Ekko was trying really hard to play the buddy-buddy thing. “We sit next to each other, remember? In Engineering 301. We also did a group project together last semester.”
Meanwhile, Vi was absolutely freezing. She rubbed her hands over her arms, looking up expectantly at the conversation, praying for this buffoon to just let them inside.
“I mean…” Jayce took a swig from the beer he had in his hand. “I guess?”
“You are the best, my dude!” Ekko gave him an enthusiastic fist-bump, grabbing Vi by the hand and leading her inside. “I owe you one, man!”
Jayce nodded slightly, lifting up his beer to give him a lukewarm cheer. The pair eventually found themselves loitering awkwardly around the jungle juice table.
“Ekko, don’t leave me by myself,” Vi hissed through gritted teeth, visibly annoyed as Ekko winked over at a group of cheerleaders who just walked past them. “I literally don’t know anyone here.”
“Violet, my girl!” Ekko gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “You need to relax. Take a shot. Hell, take three shots. We are here to mix and mingle. Besides, I can’t have you attached to my hip this entire time.”
“Ekko, I swear to God. Don’t ever call me that again,” Vi rolled her eyes as she poured herself a shot of tequila, sending it down the hatch without a second thought.
“There we go, see? Now you’re getting the hang of it!” her roommate encouraged. “And hey, if it makes you feel any better, no one here is paying attention to you. Everyone is drunk out of their damn minds. They will forget you even existed the next morning.”
Ekko fixed himself a mixed drink before patting Vi on the shoulder. “Good luck out there, soldier. Report back to me in the dorm at 5 AM sharp. That’s your curfew.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Vi groaned, pushing him away. “Just get outta here, I don’t even wanna look at you.”
“I’m telling you Vi,” Ekko laughed while shaking his head. “Just be yourself! Meet someone new! You’ll be fine.”
“Don’t count on it,” she called back over her shoulder as she walked deeper into the party, making sure to grab a beer off a nearby table.
Shit. Now she really was left to her own devices. Not that Ekko could give a fuck. He was here to, in his words, “talk up some hot babes and maybe go home with someone, who knows”. So, there you have it.
The back den looked like the main area where people were chatting and drinking. The music still blared painfully loudly through the speakers. Vi looked around the crowded room, with low but still existent expectants that she would spot a familiar face. But to no avail.
Until she felt a tiny jab poke the back of her shoulder. She whirled around, and to her surprise, it was that girl she met at the gym the other day.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Caitlyn greeted, a small smile wrinkling the corners of her eyes.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. She looked kind of good. Really good, actually. The student council president donned a purple strappy dress and matching heels. And a silk black choker tied around her neck. Vi tried to avoid running her eyes up and down those perfect legs and sultry hips. She took a moment to look the other direction and clear her throat, taking a sip from her beer to collect herself.
“Since when did little miss goody two shoes party?” Vi said with a goofy smirk on her face.
“Since whenever the hell I wanted,” Cait shot back confidently, grabbing the beer from her hand and taking a sip. “Why, what did you think I did on the weekends?”
Holy shit. Either it was the alcohol talking or this girl was really willing to test Vi’s limits.
“I don’t know? Read books? Take notes on the gymnasium rental guidelines?”
“Hilarious,” Caitlyn nudged her shoulder playfully, and handed back her beer.
“I’m just playing around,” Vi replied. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all.”
“Well, this won’t be the first, then,” Cait countered. “Cheers, by the way.” She raised a cocktail glass she had in the other hand.
“To?” Vi raised an eyebrow out of curiosity.
“To… you transferring here to PiltU. And to two girls who just so happen to be at the same party in the same frat house on this random weekday night.”
“Cheers,” Vi said, clinking her beer against Cait’s drink, and taking another generous swig. Her head started to feel slightly hazy from all the alcohol, but she quickly shook it off. “I’m.. sorry by the way. I was kind of a dick to you the first day we met.”
“Oh, that?” Cait chuckled. “Don’t even worry about it. I figured you were probably just stressed out or something.”
“Okay, thanks,” Vi smiled to herself. Huh. So she had a heart after all. “So what the hell are you doing in this shithole anyway?”
Cait nodded her head over to a group of girls who Vi remembered being part of her dance team fooling around in the center of the room. “I’m sort of on babysitting duty tonight.”
“Sounds like such a fun time,” Vi teased sarcastically. “They make you do this?”
“Oh, no no..” Cait denied quickly. “I sort of.. make myself do this, I guess.”
There was a slight pause. The boxer didn’t really know what to say. Shit. The tone took a bit of a sour turn all of a sudden and she wasn’t really sure how to come back from it.
“You don’t have to.. you know that right?” Vi suddenly interjected into the deafening silence.
“Yeah..” she replied wanly.
Vi cleared her throat, feeling the awkwardness beginning to swell and leak over the sides of her beer bottle.
“I should uh, go find my friend,” she said quickly. “He’s probably fooling around somewhere and I don’t want him to get in trouble.”
“Yeah, you should go do that,” Caitlyn nodded. “You know where to find me.”
Vi gave her another halfhearted smile, before disappearing back into the milieu of the party.
Damnit. Why did it have to get so weird at the end? She was doing so well too at the beginning, carrying the conversation, making her flirtatious nature known and then bam it all went to shit the moment she tried to push a little deeper. Oh well. It’s not like she expected anything different. Now where the hell is Ekko?
She eventually found him fooling around with some girl on the cheer squad in the back of a broom closet somewhere.
“Ugh, really dude?” she said after slamming the door back closed.
“Vi!” Ekko called after his roommate while pushing the other girl off. “Wait up!”
He eventually caught up with her as she leafed through the crowd.
“Hey! Is everything alright? I’m sorry I ditched you back there, I just needed to uh, get something done..” Ekko blurted out quickly, trying to keep up with her pace.
“It’s fine, I’m fine..” Vi sighed, finally stopping and leaning up against a wall. “I just… finished talking with Caitlyn that’s all.”
“Oh yeah?” Ekko’s tone immediately took a teasing turn. “How did it go?”
“It was good, and then it turned out not so good,” Vi said, pinching the bridge of her nose while shaking her head in disappointment. “I don’t really wanna talk about it. Whatever, I wasn’t expecting anything anyways.”
“Do you wanna go home, Vi?” her roommate took her by the hand and gestured toward the door. “We can totally leave. I really don’t care that much.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” she replied. “You are having fun, and I don’t want to ruin this for you. Besides, I-”
Their conversation was quickly cut short by some rowdy commotion coming from the living room.
The pair hurried into the main area to assess the situation.
“Jayce, get off of me!” Cait cried, trying to peel away from the clearly very inebriated and handsy jock. He was clutching her a bit too close against his body for comfort.
“Come on Cait..” he slurred in a drunken stupor. “You know I’ve been wanting to do this since the tailgate.. Just make this easy for me now, why don’t you?”
Some sort of unspecified rage completely took over Vi’s body the moment she saw Jayce’s beginning to reach between her legs to feel under her dress. Before she even realized what she was doing, she found herself sucker punching Jayce square in the jaw. It was like a force took control over her and she didn’t have any say in what her fists were doing.
“Vi, no!” She could hear Ekko’s voice ringing out in the background, but somehow, she didn’t listen. Punch after punch was thrown against Jayce’s face until he started bleeding profusely from his nose.
“What the fuck?” he cried, immediately letting go of Caitlyn to wipe his bloodied face. His eyes shifted over to Vi. “Who the hell are you?”
“Vi, come on,” Ekko hissed, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her towards the hallway. “Just leave it, it’s not worth it.”
She ignored him, of course, and proceeded to take Cait by the hand and lead her out of the party.
“I’m Vi, by the way,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m from the undercity.”
Cait followed her out the entrance without another word, allowing the door to slam behind them. They walked down the path back towards the dorms without speaking for a few minutes. Vi decided to break the silence midway through.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly, still holding onto her hand.
Cait still wasn’t saying anything, so Vi leaned over and carefully brushed her hair out of her face. Her face was glistening under the moonlight, and it was clear she had been crying.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
The dancer nodded, a small teardrop streaming down her cheek. She folded her arms across her chest to keep warm. Shit. It was a pretty damn cold night. Vi shrugged off her bomber jacket and draped it gently over Cait’s shoulders.
“Here, take this,” she said.
“Thanks, Vi,” Caitlyn smiled, wrapping the jacket over herself. Her blue eyes were still sparkling beneath the dim glow of the streetlight.
The two didn’t exchange many words on the walk home. Vi could tell she wasn’t really in the talking mood, and given the circumstances, forcing small talk would have been unwise.
“Um.. this is me,” Cait finally said as the pair approached an ivy-covered, brickstone building.
“Oh, uh, okay,” Vi replied, quickly shoving her hands into her jean pockets to warm up.
“Thanks, by the way..” the dancer whispered. “I have no idea what I would have done if you weren’t there..”
“Don’t mention it,” Vi said, trying her hardest to avoid eye contact. God, why was she being so weird. “It was nothing, really.”
“Okay,” Cait tried to hide her smile as she handed back her jacket. Without warning, she gave her a quick peck on the cheek before running back to her dorm. “I’ll.. see you around school I guess?”
“S-see ya,” Vi stuttered, blushing furiously as she stuck up her hand to give an awkward little wave.
Cait waved back before gently closing her door behind her.
Goddamnit. What the hell was that?
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