#But not anymore. Now they want your personal information OR ELSE
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𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
Part 1
wc: 1833
365 Days After That Night
Jason Todd was the Red Hood. Jason Todd was a criminal. Most of all, Jason Todd was a murderer, for he murdered the only remnant of love I had left in my soul. He was my breaking point.
It’s been a year since the night he left and though I tried my hardest to bury his memory in my mind, his recent headlines made for incessantly annoying reminders. Though the ghost of Jason’s lacking presence haunted me every day, I was able to suppress those thoughts. Luckily, my job at the Gotham Gazette came with a considerably generous salary, often encouraging me to forget all the undesirable aspects of the job, including him.
Tonight, I was staying late at the police station, waiting for my interviewee, Dick Grayson, to arrive from Bludhaven. He had been working a case on a notorious serial killer who had recently broadened his horizons and began to kill in Gotham. He was the only one overseeing it, thus, taking note of his busy schedule, I had set up an appointment weeks prior. Though he was already an hour late, I decided to wait, for an opportunity like this may not come as easily again.
I sat at his desk, resting my head in the palm of my hand and darting my eyes across the room to cure myself of my boredom. One particular photo caught my eye as my gaze trailed to the framed pictures on the desk. Dick was with a younger, lively boy, posing for their photo in front of Wayne Manor. Curious, I inspected the photo closer to notice that the other boy had azure eyes and curly black hair, just like–
“–Ah, I see you’ve taken an interest in my brother, eh? It’s my favorite photo from when I was still living in Gotham.” Dick had finally made his entrance.
“Detective Grayson,” I said, surprised by his voice.
Sitting down he asked, “You must be y/n? I’m sorry for arriving so late, the route from Bludhaven to Gotham is always littered with traffic.”
“Yes, I’ve heard.” With that, I began my questioning. It eased into a conversation the deeper we dove into the topic until eventually a few hours had passed and Dick had to head off to another crime scene.
“Before you leave, may I ask…which of your brothers is that? I’ve only heard of two others and they seem to be too young to have been in that photo when it was taken.”
“Jason Todd. He kinda of fell off the face of the Earth on his enlightening retreat, so almost everyone forgot about him. Now that he’s back, he's done well to stay out of the spotlight.”
To ask more questions would be to intrude on his personal life, and so, tempering my desires, I quickly left.
Jason Todd was Red Hood, a criminal, a murderer. And a liar.
4 Days Later
Days passed, giving me barely enough time to digest the information that Dick had given me. After some of my own research, I found that Jason was alive and well. The night he left me was the night he reunited with his family. The very family he claimed to hate…he left me for them.
Now sitting in my cubicle at the Gazette, my thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, for my feelings for Jason had begun to resurface. I longed to see him, to hear him to be with him. But I couldn’t blame him anymore, for my fantasies led me to break my own heart. I wanted something that was never there, and I had to accept that. I shook my stupid ideas away as I looked at the whiteboard across the room to see my next assignment. My stoic expression turned into one of horror as I read: “Y/n → Wayne Gala”.
I rushed to the chief editor’s office and begged to be reassigned, but all my pleas were in vain because no one else was available to cover for me. Begrudgingly, I went back to my desk and looked down at the invitation that was put on it. The bold letters embedded at the top of the card were as searing as a blade, for they sliced my heart into a million pieces. I went home immediately, for I had very little time and a lot to do to prepare.
Jason would be there as well and I wanted to catch his eye to make him feel jealous and regretful for leaving me, but for that, I needed a statement dress. Thus, I decided to head to a nearby shopping plaza, to spend as much money as I could on a dress that I would never wear again, all for a man that may not even remember me.
After a successful trip, I roamed around the plaza in search of a light snack before getting ready for the night's festivities. Wandering my eyes, I caught sight of a familiar man on the other side of the nearly empty area. Walking closer to clear my suspicions, I recognized him to be the one and only Jason Todd.
He was with another woman who seemed to be a thousand times prettier than her. Her gorgeous red hair was tied in a high ponytail and fell down to her hips, her lean figure resembled that of a model, and her face seemed too proportional to be true. She was perfect. And she was kissing him on the cheek. The sight made me want to cry out right then and there. He had moved on.
Later that Day, in the Evening
As I made my way through the entrance doors entranced by the beauty of the domain, I was welcomed by a breathtaking display of opulence and extravagance, transforming the Manor into a realm of sheer elegance. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the high ceilings, casting a cascade of shimmering light across the grand ballroom. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries depicting scenes of Gotham's history, each thread telling a story of wealth and power. Exquisite floral arrangements of velvety red roses and ivory lilies graced every corner, their intoxicating fragrance mingling with the soft strains of a string quartet that filled the air.
Guests, dressed in their finest attire, moved gracefully through the lavishly decorated rooms, their laughter and whispered conversations creating an enchanting symphony that resonated through the space. A grand staircase, adorned with a crimson carpet, beckoned guests to ascend toward the upper levels, adding an air of regal grandeur to the soirée.
In the heart of the ballroom, stood Jason Todd. He was a magnetic presence, a striking figure that effortlessly drew the eye. Dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuated his lean and muscular frame, he appeared both rugged and refined. The dimmed lighting highlighted the chiseled lines of his jaw, the shadow of stubble giving him an air of mysterious allure. His dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding to his rugged charm. His piercing blue eyes were like sapphires in the night. He moved with a confident grace, his every step commanding attention and admiration from those around him.
He was so captivating that I continued to stare until his gaze locked onto mine. For an instant, the world around us seemed to fade into obscurity. It was as if time itself had stopped. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, a hint of regret, and a trace of something deeper, something that mirrored the tumultuous history we shared. It was a gaze that carried the weight of our past, and in that moment, I knew that the night held more secrets and emotions than I had ever imagined.
Stop. I’m imagining things.
I focused my mind on the task at hand, to distract myself from him. My every move was meticulous, like a well-rehearsed dance. My professional demeanor was unwavering as I discreetly took notes on the evening's proceedings, capturing every detail and nuance of the event. I engaged in discussions about Gotham's elite, current events, and the philanthropic endeavors the gala aimed to support. All the while, my smile remained fixed and my words carefully chosen, masking the emotional turmoil that raged beneath the surface.
Suddenly, in the midst of conversation, Jason's warm and inviting hand gently wrapped around my wrist, guiding me away from the bustling gala and into a secluded garden nestled within the sprawling grounds of Wayne Manor.
The garden seemed to come alive under the moon's tender caress. The moon was like a radiant pearl in the inky sky, spilling its ethereal light through the dense canopy of trees, creating an enchanting interplay of shadows and soft, silvery beams. As we stood, the night's gentle breeze carried the fragrance of blooming flowers, adding a layer of sensuousness to the charged atmosphere.
Before Jason could utter a single word, my pent-up emotions, like a dam bursting, spilled forth with a hiss of anger and hurt. “What the hell? Who the hell do you think you are?” The words tumbled from my lips, carrying the weight of a year's worth of unanswered questions and unresolved feelings.
Jason stood before me, his expression a complex interplay of emotions. His eyes, once piercing and intense, now held a hint of regret and remorse. In the stillness of that moonlit garden, the unspoken words hung heavy in the air, waiting for the right moment to find their voice and bridge the chasm that had grown between us.
“It’s Jason…remember.”
“No.” All I do is remember.
“You’re my best friend.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ve got the wrong girl. I don’t know anyone named Jason.”
“What the hell is going on with you? Why can’t you remember me?”
“You’re the one that needs to remember.”
“What?”
“Remember that night? It’s been a year and you’ve clearly moved on. I’m glad you got your happy ending with a girl even prettier than me. That begs the question…why even talk to me with the intention of leaving again?”
“Y/n, I–”
“–Save it. I can’t do this anymore.”
My rapid footsteps echoed on the cobblestone path, and the sound of my heels clicking with every step rang in my ears. I paid no heed to the gasps and whispers that trailed behind me like a ghostly chorus of judgment.
In my haste, I collided with a solid figure, and the impact sent a shiver through my frame. I looked up, and it was none other than Dick Grayson, his eyes a curious blend of mockery and amusement. In my agitated state, I only heard his attempt at humor as a blade deepening the wound that had been freshly reopened.
This gala was a set-up, a trap and I fell face-first into it. But, it did allow me to realize something.
Jason Todd was Red Hood, a criminal, a murderer, a liar. And a fool for thinking that I may ever love him again.
#batfam#dc comics#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd#dick grayson#angst#song fic
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Man, I miss the internet when you could just freely browse all sorts of niche blogs and fan sites without having to have an account anywhere... There was so much to explore! Now you need to have an account with Instagram and Tiktok before they'll let you see anything, or it's locked behind a paywall on someone's Patreon.
We used to "browse," like we were wandering free in a big pasture, and now it's a "feed," where someone keeps shoveling stuff into a trough in front of your face and you have to keep choking it down.
I miss "Free Range" internet is what I'm saying, I guess. Not this Content Factory Farming crap.
#Way too many livestock metaphors haha#I just...#Do you know how many costuming blogs there used to be?#You used to be able to see what people made and it was great#And now almost everybody's on Instagram.#And I'm not because I know it would drive me insane#But you used to be able to browse Insta without having an account too even!#But not anymore. Now they want your personal information OR ELSE#they probably say it's for 'the privacy of our users' or some such but... I don't really think they care about that#Everything's a subscription or membership now and I HATE IT!
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tbh when mitski said “you’re my best friend/now i’ve no one to tell/how i lost my best friend”
#my freshman year of college my best friend and I were both a wreck#and on opposite sides of the country#during winter break I made the decision to share certain information with their parents bc I was actively concerned for their safety#they were deeply upset about me betraying their trust like that and asked for a break in our friendship#(a few months later (which happened to be early March 2020. lol) they did shrooms and realized they wanted to talk to me again lmao)#(so we talked and cried and now we’re still best friends almost 4 years later)#and my birthday is in january so it fell right in the middle of the period we weren’t talking#and my friends at school actually put together a really lovely party and it remains to this day the best bday party ive had#(most of my bdays have been sad and shitty lol)#but i just remember being drunk in my friends dorm room with my friends all around me#it was the end of the night people were just kinda chatting in little groups or whatever#and i was lying on my friends bed just miserable bc all I could think about was how my best friend was supposed to be there too#bc my parents were going to fly them out for the weekend as a present#and obviously that just got dropped#and id been talking to my friends about it kind of but all I wanted was my actual best friend#I left them a very embarrassing drunk voicemail that THANK GOD they deleted without listening to#but it’s just. the quiet agony of being angry and sad and hurt because your person doesn’t want to be ur person anymore#and still wanting to talk to them about it. still needing them to comfort you and give you their advice and insights#i don’t want to talk to anyone else about it. they’re not you.#sigh. anyway. ive actually lost several close friends for various reasons ranging from reasonable to bullshit#and it always blindsides me how much I want to talk to THEM about it#so thanks mitski for expressing that so artfully#op
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#im not gonna be posting about roe v wade anymore#i have a few reasons but 1: go read the fucking news if you need info why are you relying on your tumblr dash to give relevant information#2: not wanting to add more doomscroll content to my blog isnt a moral failing its a survival tactic see point 1 go read the fucking news#3: I really really do hope that my blog can be a place of respite right now#like that sounds lofty and pretentious and ig it kinda is but idk theres no place you can turn right now that isnt talking about this#thats not bad. in fact its good that people are angry. I'm angry. I'm angry and im scared for the rights of every marginalized person#in the us right now. But goddamn just reading about how much everything sucks and how terrible everything is really isnt doing anything#. being informed is good but i dont think there is a single concievable way right now that you CANT be informed. if youre not aware of whats#going on in the supreme court at the moment I applaud you because jesus christ youre living off the grid#I don't know what to do about this. I am a single human being and the problem is hundreds of years of systemic oppression#the political inertia of whats happening alone is incomprehensibly large#and i dont know how to stop that. especially not from my fucking tumblr blog with like... 100 followers#if yall need to talk im here. I want my blog to be someplace safe rn#so yeah keep reading and keep being angry. I know im going to be#but im not gonna reblog anything else
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#i deserved it then and i’d deserve it now#feeling good still. i’m just being introspective#i deserved worse actually. a punishment for not knowing what i was getting myself into. and not saying anything to stop it. whatever#the age i was seems more and more shockingly and appallingly young every time i think about it. i didn’t know. but i should’ve#‘appallingly young’ that’s so dramatic. i was just young#and things had happened long before that. i just never had a name for a face#it’s not….. it’s something that happened but they didn’t make it happen. i don’t know. lines……#i wish i could stop thinking about it. i don’t want to work out what it was any more.#i’m tired. it didn’t matter anyway#it’s been years. i was just young that’s all. and your first experience informs so much#if it hadn’t been the first i’d have fixed it in my mind by now. i made it all up inside my head anyhow. even i don’t believe it anymore#and i think that’s part of why i’m so obsessed with being private. i always have been but— they were the last person i told something#[—] related. and then they gave me the real deal. i’m being facetious. but….. it’s funny. because i’d have to tell someone else the [—] that#happened with them. and i saw what happened last time. so it’s best never to tell anyone anything ever again#we were kids. it wasn’t anybody’s fault. it’s on me for getting in such a fuss about nothing. so you didn’t say stop so what#‘you’ being me. i didn’t say anything. still like a dead bird. dead faun. very silly#perhaps it’s best if i take it to the grave with everything else. if you tell someone else they can forge a weapon from it and get you where#you’re vulnerable. hare-cunning#i deserved it. essentially. and sometimes i think my ‘no’ should be confiscated because i didn’t use it when it counted#and i don’t know. maybe that’s what it’s supposed to be like
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 1 - The Introduction
Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.
MASTERLIST | Next ->
“I don’t like this.”
“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”
He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”
“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.
He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.
He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.
“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.
As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.
He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.
His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.
Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.
He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.
Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.
You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.
You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.
“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”
“Classified?” You finish for her.
Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”
The less there is to make you a target.
You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.
What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”
You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.
That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.
That, and the excuse for violence.
Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.
In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.
“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.
“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.
“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”
You look nervous.
He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.
This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.
His omega.
As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.
“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.
He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.
He doesn’t even want to think about that.
Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.
“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.
You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.
“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”
You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.
He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.
“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say.
Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.
Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.
“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”
Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”
Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.
“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”
“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.
“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”
Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.
Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”
“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.
“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”
“That could be dangerous.” Price says.
“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”
Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.
“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”
He hasn’t failed her yet.
Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.
The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.
You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.
Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.
You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.
You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.
One more to go.
You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.
This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.
He’s going to be a problem.
You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.
Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.
“Coming, Si?”
Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.
You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.
Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.
You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?
“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.
Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.
Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.
You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.
“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”
It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.
Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”
Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”
Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.
You can hold power over them.
The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.
You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.
Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.
Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.
You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.
“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.
All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.
Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”
Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.
“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”
You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”
“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.
You nod. “Yes, sir.”
“You lived on base?” He asks.
You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”
“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.
It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.
The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.
“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”
“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.
You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”
“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.
You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”
“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”
“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.
Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.
“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.
“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”
You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”
Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.
Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.
He’s going to be a problem.
“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”
You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.
“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”
You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.
“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.
His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?
What if they don’t like the way you smell?
“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.
You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.
“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”
All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.
“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.
Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.
He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.
You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.
“Ready?”
You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.
He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.
His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.
“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.
You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.
He’s testing you.
You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.
He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.
Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.
You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.
“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”
You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.
“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”
His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.
You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.
“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.
“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.
“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”
He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.
You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.
You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.
“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.
You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.
You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.
They could if they wanted to.
It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.
“You hungry, pup?”
Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.
Pup. Price called you Pup.
You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.
The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.
“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.
You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”
“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”
You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.
“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.
His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.
Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.
The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.
He’s proving his ability as a provider.
In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.
You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.
He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.
A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.
Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.
I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#141 x reader#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#a/b/o
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jealousy looks good on you
summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.
warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. I love morons in love,,
You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.
You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.
You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.
But now here you were, not watching him, but her.
Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.
You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.
She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.
You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—
Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?
You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.
You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.
A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-
The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.
You should trust him, you think.
He's had more experience in this than anyone else.
You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.
“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”
He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.
“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”
Somehow, your face gets hotter.
Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.
“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”
Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”
“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”
“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”
“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”
“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.
Dusting her off.
And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”
He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”
“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”
“Charming.”
You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”
“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”
“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”
“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”
“Why? This feels horrible.”
“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”
You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”
“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”
Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.
The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”
“Silly darling.”
You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.
#astarion ancunin#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#bg3 astarion#baldurs gate tav#bg3 x reader#bg3 x tav#fluff#jealousy#astarion
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A night full of surprises
Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Word count: 7.5k
Summary: This is a request I got and started to write on the 6th of June 2023 (yes, I know, this took me a while). I can't even find it in my asks anymore, but I have the author's decription copied, and it should be enough, so here it is:
"I'm thinking manipulative wanda being overly obsessed with reader to the point where she always calls you earlier than she has to leave for work so she can spend more time with you. She'll run her hands on your arms and sometimes rest her palm on your thigh while asking you difficult questions just to see you squirm beneath her presence. R on the other hand will feel very shy and intimidated by her. But there's also this attraction she kept pushing down because she has to be professional and is extremely scared that wanda will know about it and stop letting R babysit anymore, which also leads to her not seeing the middle aged woman again. But of course, being wanda, she knows exactly what R was feeling. By the way R squeezes her thighs, blush, and stutter, it doesn't have to take a mind reader to know. But one thing R didn't know about wanda is she can be impatient. She's wanted you for a long time, watched the way you'd wet yourself in front of her. Time will come where she would want a taste, where she'd take whatever is hers. After all, she's earned it for making R feel that way, right? So take she does and claim she will. And what a sweet, sweet R as reward could be..."
Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, fingering, finger sucking, strap-on sex, R has a bit of an oral fixation, tribbing, overstimulation, Wanda being pervy, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader
Masterlist with all my works.
Wanda loved watching you through your windows. She did it more often than she should, more often than it was appropriate for a woman like her, but she didn’t care. She hardly cared if neighbours saw her sneaking glances, or peaked through the windows whenever you were visible. As long as you didn’t know of her secret activities, everything else was inconsequential.
She adored to see you read your books, looking effortlessly beautiful on your recliner, waves of your hair falling around your face. She loved to see you retrieving your mail, or do some small things around the yard, dressed casually. She never missed the days when you went out, loving to see you all dolled up. On those occasions she liked to watch you and imagine that you did it all for her. That you’d put on your outfit to impress her, the make-up flawless, because you wanted to look nice for her. Not that she ever thought you needed all that. You were already perfect. But it made pride bloom in her chest to imagine, even for a bit, that you made the effort just for her.
Those were, of course, perfectly normal occasions, when she could see you. Then again, Wanda could never be satisfied with just that. She needed all of you, she craved you, she fantasized about you… She was obsessed. She felt a hunger so profound that she had to resort to more devious ways of seeing you.
Of course, inserting herself into your life wasn’t hard. She found a casual moment to meet you, introducing herself with a charming smile, then she invited you over to her house, just for coffee, finding ways to bond through mutual interests, she made sure to introduce you to her kids, her eyes sparkling at how quickly they grew to like you… It was easy, honestly. Before you knew it, she’d asked you for a favour, watching the boys for a couple of hours. A favour that grew into more of a non-committed babysitting arrangement.
That’s how Wanda learned about your schedule, about your job, how she soon got invited to your house. The two of you acted more like friends, than anything else and Wanda couldn’t be happier about it. Especially because, now that you had your guard down, she could easily get access to more personal information.
She’d ask you to join her at her house earlier than your scheduled babysitting appointment and she’d sit across from you, listening to you talk about your day. It almost became the norm. She’d sometimes ask you personal questions, but friends did that. So you had no problem to share that you’re single, that you liked women, a confession that brought a blush to your cheeks, feeling uncertain to mention something like that to the older woman, but she took it with a smile, which calmed your nerves.
In truth, Wanda almost jumped out of her skin with joy, knowing that little piece of information. That night, when she settled next to her window, eyes fixated on your bedroom, she watched with even more interest than before, since now she could picture what you fantasized about, while you lay in bed, touching yourself.
Yes, this was, perhaps, Wanda’s favorite part of her daily routine. She’d watch you from the shadows as you undressed, your curtains naively left open. Wanda couldn’t fathom, at first, why you left them so, considering anyone could spy on you, but she wasn’t going to complain, when she was the one hungrily watching.
You had such a beautiful body. She had admired that from day one. And when she found out how you liked to take care of yourself, she was hooked. She saw you splayed out on your bed, legs spread open, while your fingers moved inside you. You were such a pretty sight. Your back arched, your hair scattered across the pillow, your free hand teasing your nipples… How was she supposed to resist all that?
No, there was no way she could resist you, so she did what she had to, to make sure she could keep you close. And she quickly moved on from casual meetings and friendly outings to inviting you over for a day around the pool, sneaking countless pictures of you, while you were sunbathing, her fingers twitching every time she lathered sunscreen on you. She invited you for dinners, she left little treats for you, whenever you babysat for her, just so she could show you she cared. She gave you little back massages on the days you felt exhausted, she checked in on you, to make sure you’re ok. All that, and you still had no clue she wanted you!
Not to mention how often she tried to flirt, sitting next to you while you had coffee together, her thigh touching yours, while she talked, or her hands running over your arms, while she complimented you, her soft words of praise… God, she tried so hard, but you were so shy! She could see the blush on your cheeks, when she was close, she could tell she affected you, but not once did you respond. A fact, she found extremely frustrating. It made her resort to not only having to watch you through your windows, but also taking care of the burning need between her legs all by herself.
Now that just wouldn’t do. It was clear to Wanda that you were meant to be hers and after another night of hiding while she watched you touch yourself, her own hand mirroring your movements, she’d had enough. She wanted to know what you felt like, wanted to taste your lips, your skin, she wanted to breathe you in, wanted to have you under her fingertips, writhing. She wanted everything. And perhaps through some kind of miracle, fate seemed to smile upon her just a few days later.
She was asked to attend a conference out of town, and of course, she couldn’t think of a better person to entrust her children to, but you. She made sure that you’ll have everything you need, inviting you into her home with a wide smile and she gave you a copy of her schedule in case you needed anything, before she left, climbing into her car and waving at the three of you as she drove away.
She couldn’t help but smile at the notion, of all three of you, huddled together to see her off. It was the perfect picture of the family she hoped to one day have and she knew that she wouldn’t have it with anyone but you. You were perfect, smiling softly, as your eyes followed her movements, your arms wrapped around her boys. You looked so pretty and domestic, so delicate… God, how she longed this would be her reality.
Wanda couldn’t stop thinking of it all the way to her conference, the long hours of driving passing with her mind picturing countless scenarios, countless precious moments that you could share. It was so hard to shake off the thought that this wasn’t in fact real and that, despite her longing, you weren’t actually hers, that she had to sit in her car for a few minutes, grounding herself in the present, before she could join her colleagues.
The hours moved slowly, fraying her nerves, making her check her watch desperately the later it got. She could see the light of the day fading, fluorescent lights flickering to life in the building, as her colleagues droned on and on. It was getting clear that she wouldn’t be home on time and she used a quick break to give you a call.
“Hi, Wanda.” You greeted with a smile. “How’s the conference going?” You asked.
“Hi, darling.” She replied on instinct, the sound of your voice bringing a smile to her lips, despite her exhaustion, before she paused, having to remind herself that you’re not hers. “The conference is taking a little longer.” Wanda cleared her throat. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” She confessed. “Would you mind staying a bit longer?” She asked, her voice apologetic.
“Of course, I’ll stay.” You replied with a smile. “We’ll order pizza for dinner, we’ll play some games, maybe watch a movie. You don’t have to worry about us.” You said in a calming tone, bringing instant relief to Wanda’s overworked mind.
“Thank you, Y/N! You’re a life-saver.” Wanda said with a sigh. “If it gets too late, just settle in my bedroom.” She continued. “Just make yourself at home. I’ll do my best to be back as soon as I can.” She assured you, fingers picking at her phone’s case nervously.
“Don’t worry about us, Wanda.” She heard you say on the other end, calming, soft, almost making Wanda forget her reality again. “And drive safely. We’ll be just fine here.” You reassured her again, making the older woman sigh, as if a weight was just lifted.
Despite the shortness of the conversation, it was enough for her to feel more at ease. Enough to get her through the conference and as soon as she was able, she was back in her car and on her way to the three of you.
It was late, the roads dark and abandoned. She had to stop at a gas station to buy herself a cup of coffee, just so she could keep herself alert, her hope of making it home on time completely forgotten. She knew it would be way past the boys’ bedtime, but she hoped to at least see you.
When she reached her house, it was a little after midnight and the darkened rooms told her that all three of you were asleep, making her walk silently through the rooms, to make sure she wouldn’t wake you.
She checked on the boys first, cracking open their door, to see their sweet faces buried in their pillows, blissfully sleeping in their beds, each one tucked in with his favorite toy, making her heart swell with love. She was tempted to go in and kiss their little foreheads, but she didn’t want to disturb them, so she closed the door instead, walking further down the hall to her own bedroom.
She opened the door softly, peering in to find you tucked in. You had pulled down one of her pillows, cuddling it close to your chest, a leg swung over it. She knew it’s how you usually slept, she’d seen it enough times through her windows, yet emotions started to swirl within her at the sight. She wanted to replace the damned thing with her own body, to feel you against her, to be surrounded by your warmth, she wanted to feel your soft breaths as you slept, wanted to run her hands over your body. She thought of how much of your scent will be on her pillow tomorrow, thought about burying her face in it, while she touched herself, so she could imagine that she’s with you. Just the thought had her hands twitching.
Wanda hadn’t realized how dangerous it was, having you here, in her house, in her bed, vulnerable and asleep. Not really. Not until you were here and her imagination had started to run wild. Would you feel her if she climbed in with you? Would she be able to stop herself, if she allows herself this one small indulgence? Would you stir, if she wrapped her arms around you? Would you know, if she buried her face in your neck, while she ground herself against the swell of your ass?
Before she could take her fantasies any further, she saw you stir, her eyes widening in shock, as if caught doing something wrong, before she reminded herself that you couldn’t possibly know what she had just fantasized about.
“Go back to sleep, sweet girl.” Wanda whispered softly, clearing her throat when her voice came out raspy. “I’ll just grab some sheets for the couch.” She explained, as if she needed to give you a reason for being so close to your sleeping form. As if she got caught doing something terribly inappropriate.
It took you a moment to process her words, your mind hazy and tired, your voice rough, when you finally spoke.
“You can stay here.” You said, pulling away the covers. You wanted to say that she shouldn’t be forced to sleep on the couch, in her own house, but your mind couldn’t quite formulate the right words, so this sentence just had to do.
Wanda knew she shouldn’t. Knew it was a dangerous thing, letting someone like her be so close to you. She knew the temptation would be too great, that she wouldn’t be able to resist her urges, yet she couldn’t force herself to say no. She wanted this. No, she needed this. She wanted to spend tonight, pretending that you’re hers.
What Wanda didn’t know was that, despite your obliviousness to her secret activities, you were putting on your nightly shows just for her. Or, with her on your mind. Wanda was just so beautiful, so kind, so caring and sweet, that she had you from the very first day you met her. And the way she treated you certainly didn’t help. Her hands always found ways to touch you, compliments and praises spilling from her lips, as her eyes glided over your body. It was driving you crazy. She always left you little treats, wrote sweet notes for you to find, gave the best hugs. Not to mention you’d left her house with soaked panties so often, it was a miracle you hadn’t stained her couch yet. But you never dared tell her such a thing. You never wanted to fall from her good graces and lose her friendship, too scared that should you admit how desperately in love you’d fallen, you’d never see her, or the boys again. Yet tonight, fate her tested both of you and you were both too weak to resist.
Without much protest, Wanda pulled out a tank top and a fresh pair of panties from her drawers and she took the fastest shower of her life, before she changed quickly, so she could settle into bed next to you. You’d given up your cuddly pillow and it seemed you were once again sleeping peacefully and Wanda had to bite back a smirk, when you backed into her, your ass pressing into her.
It was almost too easy, Wanda thought to herself, as she put her arm around you. You were so warm, so soft, so exposed… She could feel that you had nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of panties on. This was the only barrier that stood between her and what she wanted. Some measly scraps of clothes. But Wanda took it slow, she nuzzled her face in your neck, breathing you in. She wasn’t sure if she was secretly taking her time, so you’d be properly asleep, so there’d be no witnesses to her depravity, so you’d never know how deep her perversions went, or how terribly she craved you. Another part of her wanted you wide awake, so tomorrow you wouldn’t be able to deny how good she made you feel. She wanted you to remember all the things she’d do to you.
In the end it was you, who made the first move. Your body betraying you, while you slept. Little moans and whimpers escaping your lips. At first she thought you might be having a bad dream, a nightmare, but soon she heard a word. Her ears strained to make it out, her arm tightening around you protectively, as if it would do any good, until she finally understood. It wasn’t a word. It was a name. Wanda. You were mewling her name like a little kitten, thighs squeezing together, trying to rut against nothing, seeking friction.
It was the last straw, really. The last bit of restraint she had, simply snapped like a twig and Wanda’s arm tightened even more, her hold so firm, you could hardly move, as she started to leave little kisses on your neck, whispering out your name, so she could bring you out of your dream and into reality.
She felt you wake up slowly, almost heard the gears in your head spin as you realized where you are and remembered Wanda coming home, remembered inviting her into your bed… Well… Her bed, really. Then you remembered what you’d just dreamt about, now more of an idea, an echo, of something distant, yet so powerful it made your cheeks heat up.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” You said, voice rough, body rigid, as if afraid that if you move, Wanda would be able to see every dirty fantasy that you’d just dreamt up.
“You don’t need to apologize.” Wanda said. Her voice was like liquid gold, smooth and seductive. “I can take care of you.” She continued, longing filling up her words. “Would you let me do that, sweet girl?” She asked, still holding you, still firmly pressed into you. “Would you let me help you feel good?”
“Wanda...” You gasped, utterly stunned. It was too much to process, and your mind was so hazy. Were you dreaming this up too? Would you wake up tomorrow, alone in Wanda’s bed and curse yourself for believing, or even hoping she would want you the same way you wanted her?
“Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.” The older woman reassured you. “You were dreaming.” She explains, patient. “You were having quite the dream about me.” She continues, speaking as if she’d seen right into your head and knew exactly what you’d dreamt about. “I must have been very good, if I made you chant my name.” She says bluntly, smirking at the way your heart quickened at her words. “Can I confess something, Y/N?” She suddenly ask, making you wait for her next words with bated breath. “Even though you were dreaming of me, even when you were saying my name, I still couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Some imaginary Wanda was having something I want all to myself.” She told you, words whispered into the night air like a secret. “I want you all to myself.”
For a second there, you thought your heart had stopped beating. You could hardly believe it. But Wanda’s grip loosened a bit, allowing you to turn on your back, your eyes meeting, and you knew that this wasn’t another one of your dreams. This was real.
“Would you let me help you feel good, darling?” Wanda asked again, hips straddling your waist. She looked so beautiful, her blonde hair falling around her face, her green eyes, now darkened pools that never looked away, her lips parted, as if waiting to devour you. “Would you let me make you mine?”
“Please.” You almost whined. You were desperate, hands reaching up, caressing her cheek for a moment, before you were pulling her down.
Wanda’s response was instantaneous. As soon as she had your consent, she leaned down, those same, soft, pink lips you had just stared at, now claiming yours in a kiss.
She kissed you over and over again, hungry, like a barely-contained animal that was fighting to break free. She had her hands all over your body, desperate to feel as much of you as she could, caressing and stroking, eager to feel your naked skin, instead of the t-shirt you were wearing.
She broke the kiss just long enough to take the offensive item off, discarding it on the floor, without paying it much thought, before she was kissing you again, tongue invading your mouth and exploring eagerly.
Wanda was practically salivating. It wasn’t just the fact that all her fantasies were coming true. It was also how adorably submissive you were being, how eager you were for everything she gave you… It was that spark in your eyes. You weren’t putting on a show for her. You genuinely wanted her. Craved her. You were just as in love with her as she was with you. She just knew it.
Not wanting to lose anymore time, she sneaked a hand between your bodies, fingers caressing your pussy over the damp material of your panties. She was instantly rewarded with a moan, your hips canting up to meet her, desperate to feel more of the pleasure she was promising.
“Be a good girl and stay still, darling.” Wanda whispered against your lips, voice starting to vibrate with all the emotions that swirled inside her. “Unless you want me to stop?” She suggested, raising a single eyebrow at you.
“No, please don’t stop.” You mewled, shaking your head, hands clinging to her shoulders.
“Legs open.” Wanda commanded, pulling your thighs apart. She didn’t want you squeezing your legs and getting any pleasure that didn’t come from her. She’d seen you do that enough times and now that she was finally taking you for herself, she never wanted to see it again.
She took her time kissing you, fingers drawing patterns against your things for a bit, testing your will to follow her instructions, and when she saw that you’d behaved yourself, she started again. Stroking your clit through your panties, drawing slow, teasing circles over it. It was driving you crazy and you needed so much more, so it wasn’t a surprise when you finally broke down and begged.
“Wanda, please. Please, touch me.” You asked, your big eyes looking up at her pleadingly, your legs spreading even wider in a silent invitation.
“That’s my good girl.” Wanda praised, kissing you deeply, while she pulled your panties to the side. “That’s what I want you to do from now. Every time you want to feel good, I want you to come to me. I’ll take such good care of you.” She promised, voice seductive and low.
You nodded, swallowing thickly at the intensity in her eyes. You could tell she meant every word. But you weren’t given much time to think of what that could mean, her fingers gliding over your entrance, gathering the wetness accumulated there and dragging it up to your clit. She circled it gently, careful not to overwhelm you, building you up steadily.
Unable to resist much longer, her head lowered, taking a nipple into her mouth and circling it with her tongue while she stimulated you, feeling you squirm under her, your back arching into her touch and demanding more. You were a greedy little thing. Wanda liked that.
Between the way she sucked on your nipples and rubbed your clit, it didn’t take you long, before you felt yourself reaching the edge. You’d dreamt of being with her for so long, you’d pictured what it would be like so many times, you’d touched yourself to such thoughts more than you’d like to admit and now that it was finally a reality, you could hardly contain yourself. You held on to Wanda’s shoulders and hair, pulling her closer and moaning out her name, just as you had in the dream, desperate for a release.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Wanda detached herself from your perfect breasts just long enough to ask.
“Yes, I’m so close!” You gasped, wishing she would move her fingers just a bit faster. “Please!” You murmured on an exhale.
Wanda smirked then, starting a quick descent down your body, her slick fingers pushing inside you and filling you up perfectly. God, she loved the feeling of your walls squeezing her, fluttering around her frantically, like the wings of a butterfly.
“You feel so good.” Wanda almost growled, her fingers moving in and out of you suddenly. She couldn’t contain her excitement and quite frankly, she didn’t want to, either. “This is my pussy now.” She said with determination, refusing to give up this feeling. “No one else is allowed to touch you, you hear me?” She demanded, fingers speeding up, becoming almost rough. “Say it, baby. Say you’re mine and I’ll make you come so hard.” Wanda coaxed, her smile growing wider the more you fisted at the sheets and moaned for her.
“I’m yours, Wanda! Please, please, make me come.” You pleaded softly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she hit a particularly good spot.
Wanda’s body moved even lower, her head between your legs. She breathed in your scent shamelessly, making you try to hide your face from her in embracement, but she was intoxicated. You smelled so damn good. She could see her fingers disappear inside you, your wetness coating them, making her feel proud that she could turn you into such a mess.
“Don’t hide from me, baby.” She reprimanded, when she saw the way you covered your face. “Watch me.” She whispered, as if it was an invitation.
When you finally looked down, meeting her gaze, she lowered her head, tongue sticking out so she could taste you. Her lips wrapped around your clit, her soft, wet mouth enveloping you and making you almost scream at how good it felt. You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You were on the edge and with a few delicious strokes, Wanda pushed you over it.
A tidal wave of pleasure washed over you, and you bit your lip in an attempt not to scream. It felt so good being full of her, being stroked by her tongue. It was better than what your fingers could offer, better than any other lover you’d had. And she kept moving in that same rhythm, milking every last bit of pleasure you could offer, until you were spent.
Wanda could tell you were done, but she wasn’t even close to being done with you. She had barely gotten a taste of you and her tongue continued to lap at your clit in eager strokes.
“Shhh, it’s ok, sweetheart, you’re ok. Let me clean you up.” She spoke softly, soothing you and quieting down your whines of protest.
She removed her fingers, but soon enough her tongue replaced them at your opening. She lapped at you gently, doing everything in her power to contain her hunger for you, but her hands held you down firmly, ready to stop any attempt for you to get away. She would bruise you if she held on any harder than that, you both knew it, but neither of you cared. You would wear her marks proudly. Just as you would take the overstimulation, if it meant she would keep touching you.
“You taste so good.” Wanda groaned, detaching herself just long enough to speak the words, before returning with renewed hunger.
You moaned when her tongue returned back to your clit and you had to force yourself to stay still, to take everything she wanted to give you. That’s what good girls do. Good girls take what’s given to them. And it wasn’t hard. The craving within you returned, growing harder to ignore with each stroke of her tongue. God, she was so damn good with her mouth.
“So good.” You sighed, when she lapped over a particularly good spot.
You could feel her smile as she looked up at you, repeating the motion over and over again, feeling your body relax under her fingers, now eager for her ministrations.
“Such a good girl.” Wanda praised, instantly spotting the way the blood rose up to your cheeks. She had a feeling you’d like it.
Her mouth returned back to your clit, feeling it twitch under her tongue in desperation. She wondered if you were always like this. Always so wet and needy. If you had been this way while she flirted with you, while she talked to you and complimented you, when her hands lingered… She wondered how you held out so long, without begging her to fuck you. But it didn’t matter. She had you now. And she could tell you were getting close again, your fingers had found their way in her hair and you were greedily pulling her closer, back arching with pleasure, your moans growing louder.
“As much as I love to hear you, darling, you have to be quieter. We wouldn’t want you to wake the boys.” Wanda reminded.
Her words made you bite your lower lip, trying to stay quiet while the pressure inside you kept building. Her tongue made circles and figure-eight’s, swirling perfectly and sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Every part of you she touched instantly responded, sending you in a spiral of neediness.
Your hands pulled her impossibly closer, feeling yourself reach the edge. Your back arched and a few strangled pleas’ fell from your lips, before you finally came, your mouth hanging open in a scream that never left your throat.
Wanda helped you ride it out, her tongue never stopping, until the hands that used to pull her closer, started to try and push her away. She did so with a smirk, crawling over your body so she could plant a few soft kisses on your face. She was tempted to keep going, just so she could show you that she decides when you’ve had enough, not you, but knowing what she had in mind for you next, she decided to take pity on you.
She moved off the bed after a minute, instantly seeing the concern in your eyes, when she left you and she smiled gently, before speaking.
“You just lie down and rest, dear. I’ll be right back.” She reassured you, discarding her top and panties and moving quickly and efficiently through the room, opening her special drawer with toys, so she could pull out a harness and her favorite dildo.
She made a show of putting it on in front of you, pulling out a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer and coating the toy with it. Not that you needed it, but she liked to be safe. When she was ready, she stood beside the bed, tall and proud and ready to pounce on you.
“Legs open, darling. Show me that pretty pussy.” Wanda demanded as she stroked her strap suggestively.
You did as you were told, spreading your legs wider than they already were, so you could give her a good view, but it didn’t seem to satisfy her.
“I said, show me your pussy.” She repeated, voice growing stern.
Timidly, a little unsure, you reached down, fingers parting your pussy lips, until you were all on display for her. It felt a little obscene, a little embarrassing too, showing yourself to Wanda in such an intimate way, but she seemed to like it, a pleased smile appearing on her face.
She crawled over the bed, her eyes following the length of your legs, then your thighs, zeroing in on your pussy in a manner that could only be described as predatory. But instead of tearing you apart, she was going to fuck you, until you couldn’t cum anymore.
“Such a pretty thing.” Wanda admired you, her hand reaching out. She dragged a single finger through your wetness, her eyes fixated on yours. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” She suddenly asked. “How many nights I watched you touch yourself and dreamt it could be me. How hard I made myself cum, while you had your legs spread wide, just like this.” She emphasized, by spreading your legs even wider, watching the muscles strain. “But you’re not going to do such things anymore, are you?” She asked, as she started to drag the tip of her fake cock over your slick folds, getting it wet with your juices. ”Once I’m done with you…” She started off, leaning over you, so she could whisper the last of her words directly in your ear. “Nothing will ever be as good.” She promised, guiding the tip of her cock to your opening and pushing inside.
Your hands flew to her back instantly, your big, doe eyes looking up at her, while you nodded your agreement. You could hardly speak, the feeling of your walls parting for her, accepting her eagerly and squeezing around her was so overwhelmingly good, you could hardly even think, let alone process the fact that apparently, she’s been watching your nightly activities. All you wanted was this. For her steady thrusts to never stop, for her lips to keep exploring up and down your neck, planting kisses on every spot they could reach. You could tell she was leaving marks too, hickeys that marked you as hers. It was heavenly. And as her thrusts grew harder, your moans grew louder, your restraint entirely forgotten as you gave yourself completely to the moment.
“You need to be quiet, honey.” Wanda reminded again. “If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll have to gag you.” She warned. It sounded like a threat, but her eyes sparkling with excitement told you otherwise. You could tell she would love to do that and a part of you wanted to know what that would feel like. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you.” She noticed right away, an eyebrow arching up at the idea. “Stick your tongue out.” She demanded, one of her palms reaching up to hold your jaw, while you complied. “That’s right.” She nodded, her thumb running across your lower lip before it disappeared in your mouth. “Suck, baby.” She gasped, already feeling your eager tongue swirl over her digit, your lips closing around it hungrily.
You looked so beautiful like that, so content, so blissfully lost in pleasure. You were sucking on her thumb happily, your hands starting to claw at her back as she kept on thrusting inside you. Your legs had found their way around her too, your whole body pulling her in.
“Such a talented little mouth.” She mused, not missing the small blush that started to form on your cheeks. “I wonder what else you would like to have in there.” She pretended to think. “My nipples, maybe? They’re so sensitive, you know? I bet they’d feel amazing with your lips around them. Or maybe my pussy?” She suggested, feeling you hum happily in agreement. “I bet you love eating pussy.” She said with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll even get you to clean off my strap, when I’m done with you.” Wanda said with a spark in her eye. “Wouldn’t you like that? To suck me off. I’ll even get one of those squirting straps for you next time, so I can give you a treat after.” She thought out loud. “I bet you’d like that very much.”
All you could do was nod, eager to agree. You would love to get to taste her pussy, you would happily suck her off too. Not to mention sucking on her gorgeous nipples… The thought had you reeling. You wondered if perhaps she’d ever let you fall asleep while you sucked on them, all tucked in, with her warm blankets around you and her hot body pressed against you. That would be simply heavenly. But you didn’t dare say a word, too scared that she’ll take her thumb from your mouth and leave it empty, something you didn’t want happening at all. Especially when you felt so full right now. Both your mouth and your pussy were getting filled up by Wanda and each second was getting you closer to yet another climax.
Wanda could feel you get close and the pressure of the harness against her clit was driving her wild with desire, her pussy dripping with arousal. She wanted to come while she fucked you, picturing that she could cum inside you and fill you up. She pictured her fingers playing with the mess she left behind, pushing it all back inside, when it eventually leaks out, overstimulating your pussy. But that didn’t matter. She would make it all better… She just really wanted to be able to get off, while she fucked you, but the pressure of the base of the dildo against clit just wasn’t enough.
As another orgasm crashed through you, you were thankful for the fingers still in your mouth, otherwise you would have screamed, wave after wave of pleasure overwhelming your senses. Nothing had ever felt as good as Wanda’s touch and you were quickly getting addicted to the way she so easily managed to coax you into cumming, no matter how much you had already taken for her.
When you were done, she pulled out, carefully detaching herself from you and tossing the harness on the floor. When she climbed back over you, you thought she’d like to cuddle, or that perhaps she’ll straddle your face, a prospect that had you licking your lips in anticipation, but she straddled you instead, manoeuvring your body until, she could position her pussy on yours.
When her wet pussy first made contact with yours, you squirmed, feeling overstimulated, but Wanda only straddled you more securely, pinning you under her and using her hands to restrain you.
“Oh, don’t try to run from me now…” She said with a smirk, her pussy making contact with yours again. “I made you cum so many times tonight. Are you going to deny me, hm? Are you going to be ungrateful, sweetheart?” She asked, her words condescending and sweet.
You only shook your head, your fingers intertwining with hers in a silent agreement.
“Wouldn’t you like me to eat you instead?” You offered weakly, still hoping to spare yourself.
“No, darling, I want to feel you. I want to come just like this. I’m already close, baby.” She reassured you, even though she didn’t much care if that brought you any solace. “You can take it for me.”
“I can take it.” You nodded, voice strained and so small. She loved it. Loved the prospect of having you utterly spent and exhausted, so she could take care of you.
“That’s right. You just lay there and let me use you. I know you can take it for me.” Wanda confirmed proudly. “You’re such a good girl.” She praised, one of her hands stroking your hair lovingly. “Such a good, sweet girl, taking everything I give you. I’m so proud of you honey.” She murmured sweetly, lulling your brain into a submissive haze.
You hung on to every word she uttered, getting off on the praise and the warmth of her approval, your clit responding with a throb, when she started to rub hers over it. You loved it. The way she looked at you, the way she held you, the way she caressed you, her ministrations purposefully gentle and slow.
You could do nothing but surrender, happy to be used in this way, to see her close her eyes in pleasure as she continued to grind against you. Her breasts hung above you, full and gorgeous and begging for your attention and you lifted your head up, capturing a nipple between your lips and letting your tongue swirl over it.
Wanda’s response was a surprised gasp that quickly turned into a moan, one of her hands cradling your head as she continued to grind her pussy on yours.
“There you go.” She sighed happily. “Keep sucking, baby. You make me feel so good.”
She let you suck and lick over her nipples, loving the content expression she could see on your face as you did it. You looked so blissed out and she knew she could finally focus on getting an orgasm for herself, her hips picking up speed and grinding more firmly against you.
“You feel divine, darling.” She said, as she held you. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard.” She announced. “Don’t stop sucking.” She encouraged, pulling you even closer to herself, her fingers in your hair.
She moaned softly, excitement shooting through her at the thought of just how dirty this was. She had you all pinned underneath her, using your pussy to get off, her juices mixing with your own, while she had you sucking on her nipples.
“Fuck, I’m close.” Wanda gasped, her movements getting more frantic as she chased her high. “Are you going to come with me, baby? I want you to come with me.” She said with a note of urgency.
You tried to say something, your words muffled, as your face was being shoved into Wanda’s perfect tits. A part of you really wanted to come with her, feeling safe and protected in your current position. You felt enveloped by Wanda, by her taste, her scent, her voice, the heat of her body on top of yours. It was perfect really. Then there was the other part of you, that felt utterly fucked out already and entirely unable to take another orgasm. But as soon as you felt her body go rigid, her stuttering thrusts getting erratic and then almost stopping as she came, your body decided for you. You let go, your orgasm crashing over you and making you moan.
Wanda had to fight back a scream as she finally came, her clit twitching and throbbing as it was being rubbed over your own. She couldn’t picture a better way for herself, loving how close you were, how intimate it felt to get off like this. She loved it even more that you came with her.
Your orgasm was much shorter than hers, your whole body utterly spent already, but you held on, taking the overstimulation that sent almost painful jolts through you, and waiting for her to finish, wanting her to enjoy herself as much as she liked.
When she was done, Wanda was kind enough to pull away from your pussy, finally having mercy on you, after she saw the exhausted look on your face.
She stood up briefly, getting you a glass of water and she watched you drink it, before she returned to bed, trying to snuggle you and finally let you rest, but feeling you resist her.
“I didn’t even get to taste you.” You murmured gently, the cutest pout she’d ever seen appearing on your face and making her let out a laugh.
“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get to taste my pussy too, baby.” Wanda reassured you. “You’ll get a chance to show me how good you are with your tongue. Now, rest. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.” She whispered in your ear, the arm around you pulling you closer to her.
She watched you fall asleep, eyes sparkling and full of adoration, fingers playing with your hair calmingly, until you fully relaxed in her hold, breathing evening out.
“You’re just perfect, aren’t you.” She spoke softly, memorizing each detail of your face. “All mine now.”
#writing#lesbian#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff smut#bottom!reader#top!wanda#scarlet witch
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Terms and Conditions
Levi arrived at the train station late at night. Nobody else was on the train on his way home let alone on the platform when he got off. Levi took his ear phones out of his pocket ready for for his walk home but to his disappointment realised they were dead. He sighed folding up his earphone case shoving it back in his pocket preparing for the quite walk home in the dark. As Levi approached the station exit he heard what sounded like arcade music and saw flashing lights out of the corner of his eye. Tucked away in a small room was a table set up, arcade music was playing in the room as cheap disco lasers spun around. On either side of the table were posters of chiselled abs with the words "FREE TRANSFORMATION BECOME THE ULTIMATE MAN" written over the top in what looked to be a rushed photoshop job. Levi had been thinking about getting a personal trainer for a few weeks now and he didn't want to pass up on the chance for a free session or two, even if the trainer was this bad at advertising. He looked around for any information but all he could see was a QR code taped down to the middle of the table. Levi scanned it and it took him to a website just as corny and asked him to upload his 'before' photo. Shrugging it off he scrolled through his photos and selected one he had taken on a night out a few weeks earlier.
Once uploaded the website brought up a page 'TERMS AND CONDITIONS'. Levi began reading but after the first sentence assumed it was the basic bullshit all websites have, he tried to skim read it but after realising that the terms and conditions document was over 400 pages long he just speedily scrolled his way to the bottom ignoring all of it until a large blue button labelled 'ACCEPT' showed up. Levi pressed the button and his phones web browser instantly closed. Levi tried to do the whole process all over again but the browser couldn't even open the website anymore. Rolling his eyes in disappointment it became clear whoever was running this program was struggling to get their career off the ground because they were so bad at marketing or even basic tech. He put his phone in his pocket and left the station to head home and go to bed.
The next morning Levi woke up and felt groggy, his body was sore all over like he had just done a week long boot camp and he felt slightly heavier. He stretched and felt like his shoulds and quads were much tighter than usual. He put one hand on his shoulder to try and help stretch it but it felt larger, bulkier...
Looking down he saw that his shorts had split open in the middle of the night and out of the shredded fabric poked strong thicc smooth muscles. his abs were more defined and and his arms were pumped up with definition. He had always been fit but somehow over night had transformed into a complete jock. He covered himself up and took a picture, surely this was all just a dream.
Whilst trying to find his gallery he came across a new app on his phone labelled 'Ultimate Man' when he opened it he was saw just a page that looked like it was written in the notes app with a few sentences on it.
"congratulations on embracing masculinity, through your free transformation we are going to turn you into the ultimate man! get ready to embrace manhood big guy"
Levi cringed at the terribly written message but whoever was behind it clearly was doing something right, even if they came off like an idiot.
Suddenly Levi began to feel warm and could feel his heart pumping. But it didn't feel like exercise or even anything strenuous it just felt like he could really notice all of the blood in his body moving around. Levi felt himself get hard and he looked down under the covers. Even his dick looked bigger. He opened up his browser app and went to his favourite website to look at videos and images of hot guys. On the home page happened to be an image of a buff Olympic swimmer climbing out of the pool, instantly Levi moaned as he came without even touching himself. He looked down at his twitching manhood, it continued to drool over his bare abs. He cleaned himself up and put a pair of shorts on and tried to make his way to the kitchen. It didn't even take two steps before Levi moaned loudly again and his knees locked together causing him to fall to the floor. He felt his underwear fill with warms and he felt his dick pulse and twitch, he took a breath thinking it was over before it fired off again.
Levi squirmed on the ground moaning unable to stop as his body forcefully went through cycles of pleasure. He didn't even have the strength to sit up. His shorts had become drenched and were stuck to him but it didn't stop. Levi tried to take them off but his hands never even made it to the waist band he simply stopped and massaged his throbbing pelvis as waves of pleasure were sent up to the rest of his body. He didn't know what was happening and couldn't even think he just laid on his bedroom floor squirming in pleasure as he was forced to come over and over again.
After a few hours it finally stopped. Levi was stuck on the ground panting like a dog in summer but after a few minutes he was able to pick himself up. He pulled off his shorts now 3 shades darker and coated in a layer of sticky gloss. He went to put them in the wash basket but ended up just dropping them on the ground next to his bed and by the time the loud wet *shlop* of his shorts finished echoing around the room he had already forgotten about wanting to wash them.
Levi put on a basic black shirt and another pair of shorts, both felt so tight it was almost like a second skin. He passed the mirror in his hallway once again he looked bigger, more defined and the imprint of his dick stood out like a sore thumb. He was still hard and his sorts were so tight every second step made him wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as he had become so sensitive down below.
Levi went to make breakfast and realised it was almost lunch
"fuck I really need to get to the gym"
he thought to himself, forgetting that he didn't even have a gym membership. Mindlessly Levi started to make his way to his car and drove to the closest gym. He was panting like a dog the entire way as the vibrations from the car gently stimulated his manhood but to him it felt like the best pleasure his dick had ever received. He felt his shirt and shorts become tighter, a few tears began to form around his thighs and the shirt started to ride up revealing his abs, it was almost like his clothes were shrinking. His toes curled as his shoes felt tighter. Finally he arrived at the gym.
Levi needed to take a moment after parking his car, he was still panting and he couldn't help but rub his groin which alone was enough to make him feel like he was edging. After almost half an hour of sitting in his car trying to collect himself he finally got out and made his way to the gym entrance. His car somehow looked smaller to him, and all his clothes felt like one wrong move and they'd all rip off. He tried his best to pull his shirt down to his waist but there was still a few inches of skin that could be seen. His shorts where the worst, he could see in the reflection of the gym windows how they hugged his thighs forming a nice V shape and he could feel how they rode up his ass, like he'd put on a pair 6 sizes too small.
Levi opened the door and went to the reception desk as his body began to feel warm again. He rapidly dinged the bell on the desk a few times before hearing a slight click noise, looking down he noticed the top of the bell had caved in and he gritted his teeth with a slight look of embarrassment on his face. A receptionist walked over from the other side of the desk and took one look at Levi, without even thinking he said,
"forgot you member ship again big guy?"
the trainer sighed and buzzed the small plastic gates open, Levi was confused but didn't question it, he quickly walked through the gates feeling desperate to work out. As he walked he felt his thighs now rubbing against each other, he felts he biceps and pushing past his pecs as his arms swung, and he felt the monster python in his pants creep slightly further to the elastic in his underwear.
Levi set up the cable machine almost by instinct. He began pulling the weight and didn't even realise he had it set to the most weight possible, and it didn't even feel like anything.
His shirt felt tighter and tighter as the sleeves pulled up above his biceps and the waist pulled up almost to his pecs, by now it looks like he was wearing a crop top. Levi struggled to pull his shirt off and was stunned by the amount of mass on his body. He could barely pull his eyes away from the mirror as he watched himself workout, he was hypnotised by the way his biceps moved and the way his pecs bounced with each movement.
Levi felt himself get heavier and heavier to the point simply moving between machines now had him out of breath, his shorts were now so tight and pulled up they practically looked like a thong. Finally Levi stopped working out feeling the enormous weight of his size falling on his. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and stared at the freakishly massive man in the mirror.
He took a step back whilst flexing and felt something bump up against his ass. He turned around expecting it to be a bench but it was one of the gym staff.
"hey man, watch where you step hahah" the staff member laughed
It took Levi a minute to get the joke, he thought the staff member was sitting at first, but his eyes widened as he realised he was in fact standing. Levi scratched his head trying to work out if this guy just happened to be short but it was hard to work out when half his view was blocked by a massive shelf of his muscles that were his pecs. It was him finally realising he was half barefoot that finally made it click in his head. He looked in the mirror at the remains of his size 12 shoes torn to pieces and bits of fabric and rubber barely around his enormous feet.
He walked through the gym to the changing rooms trying to gauge how large he had become when he saw the weight station people used to track their stats. As he got closer to the station he watched the plank of wood used to measure height get smaller and smaller until he found himself in front, looking down at the number 8FT that was barely up to the bottom of his pecs. Levi stepped on the scales and watched the digital numbers rapidly shoot up until it began to slow around 700lsb. Levi took a deep breath as he moved his mass off the scale back down to the ground, even the 3 inch drop was enough to make small things on shelves near him rattle and shake.
Levi caught himself moving towards the changing room in the mirror, he thought he was walking normal but in reality he had a ridiculous wide waddle that took up the entire walk way. As he walked through the doors to the changing rooms a large thud caused everyone in the gym to turn their heads. Levi, not used to his new size had smashed his head into the door frame but it felt like someone had flicked him rather than walking face first into metal, as he took a second to recover he saw that the door frame had actually bent slightly from the impact.
The massive giant sat on the wooden bench alone in the changing room, it comedically bent in towards the centre, his massive weight almost causing it to bend to the ground. Levi scrolled his phone to find the app hoping there was a way to size down. He opened the app he saw a few notifications but clicked the latest one.
"Congratulations, you are almost the perfect man, one final step and you will be the optimal man! FINAL STEPS: Intellect deletion protocol and Personality Rewrite"
Immediately after reading those words Levi's head felt funny, felt almost blurry, all the embarrassment about turning into a literal giant went away, all the worries about clothes fitting him were gone and new feelings started to come in. Levi looked up into the changing room mirror and smiled.
He flexed his massive bicep
"OOOOOOH YEEAAH THATS NICE"
he rose his second arm to flex his other
"FUCK IM SO BIG, BEING THIS HUGE IS AMAZING"
He stood up once again feeling his insane weight
"Oh fuck, im so heavy, but damn, so big" He said as he struggled to reach across his own body to reach his bicep
His phone pinged loudly and Levi opened it to the app, but it looked like gibberish, he couldn't make out a single word, he scratched his head with confusion, Suddenly an audio file played
"Congratulations on becoming the Ultimate Man, we are currently offering a one time special offer for only the manliest of men, increase size by an additional 2 feet and 130 pounds, to claim say "I'm a manly man"
Levi's eyes lit up with glee, he didn't understand a single thing it said other than the words 'increase size' without missing a moment he yelled at his phone
"FUCK YEAH, IM A MANLY MAN"
He watched as his hands became thicker, watched as his dick print started to look like it was gonna rip through what was left of his clothes, his head turned to the mirror and he flexed his hulked out frame with all his might watching as it started to expand even bigger.
"FUUUUUUCCCKKK YEEEEAAHHH MAN" He screamed panting, completely out of breath as the giant before him got bigger and bigger and it was almost too much for him to even move......
#male transformation#muscle#muscle transformation#male tf#tf story#transformation#gay transformation#reality change
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Can I ask angst when they break up with reader to try date other person just to notice they still in love with reader, but now reader is with someone else (i hope is not confuse) with Jade, Floyd, Vil, and Leona?
A/N: normally, I'm not a huge fan of writing angst...but I had way too much fun with this 😁
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"I've got everything I can from you. So it's time for me to let you go. Good luck to you."
Jade said it with a cruel smile on his face, a smile you had grown quite familiar with the six months you'd been dating. In pure confusion, you'dasked him to clarify what the fuck he just told you. He bowed politely, and gave an "of course" before saying it in an even colder way.
He had used all your connections. He had gotten all the information he could with your relationship. So it was over.
Naturally, this was a shock, and absolutely devastating. But he didn't care about your dropped jaw, or the tears slowly starting to pick up in speed as they trickled down your face. You left the room, and that was that.
He returned to his room to call his next target, a first year student who was a prince of a small nation. As he sent a quick message, Floyd stopped tossing the basketball he was playing with, and asked, "If you're finally done with Y/N, can I have them now?"
Floyd had been in love with you months before Jade was even interested in you as a target, but had held back upon both Jade and Azul's insistence. While his brother was one of them, he had nothing but innocent puppy love for you. A part of Jade figured you'd say no to him, considering they shared a face. So he gave his consent, not even thinking twice.
Three months later, he watched you drop Floyd at the lounge, and press a kiss to his cheek, before slowly pulling away and leaving him to his work. His date, the Prince, asked him if everything was alright, and it was only then he realized how stiff he was. He smiled and gave some excuse that he bought with zero effort.
And while his date continued to prattle on and on about things he should never share with someone he's only been dating for three months, Jade found himself unable to do his job for the first time.
Floyd was happier than he'd been in years, and consistently able to do his job, on the promise of you giving him goodbye kisses. You were happier than Jade had ever seen you. The love in your eyes was something deeper, something stronger, than anything he'd ever seen when you looked at him. And something in him broke when he realized that.
You never looked at him that way. Was it because a part of you always knew he was using you? Was it because you sensed he didn't feel that way about you? Or was it something worse?
Was he never as good as Floyd?
"I'm bored," He groaned, standing up from the place he was resting his head on your lap.
"Okay, what do you want to do then?" You asked him.
"Nah. I'm bored of this," he gestured between the two of you.
A part of you had known this was coming. Not because you'd wanted to know, but because your friends had warned you. Especially Riddle, who had evidently been through his own relationship of sorts with Floyd. But you were hoping they were wrong. Your Floyd would never hurt you like that.
Still, even you couldn't ignore the way he watched the exchange student from Noble Bell. The way he was handsier with them than he'd ever been with you. The way he whispered in their ear when he thought you weren't looking. The way he'd nearly kissed him, but stopped at the last second when he realized you were there.
Instead of letting him repeat it, you stood up, and left your own living room, hellbent on reaching Heartslaybul, where you were in for an "I told you so" speech, but if you sat through that you'd get pity cuddles. You heard him call after you, angry that he wasn't getting the last word, but you couldn't stay there anymore.
Riddle knew when he saw the tears on your cheeks. He sighed, and instead of a lecture, he opened his arms to you, letting you sob in his shoulder, as he gently rubbed your back.
A day later Floyd was dating the exchange student, and all your Heartslaybul friends were helping you avoid the two of them. You'd lost a boyfriend, but had been made aware of the best support system in any world.
Months had passed, and you could almost forget how Floyd had seemingly used you for a fun time. Especially when the resident Queen's arms were always open to you, and his eyes always had hearts in them when they looked at you. A man who would give you the larger half of the strawberry tart, despite you knowing full well how much things like that meant to him.
Floyd, meanwhile, was bored again. He had thought he was bored of you. But after the months of not even seeing a glimpse of you, and doing everything he could to get any emotional stimulation from the exchange student who hadn't realized what he was getting into when the hot second year had slid into his life, he was realizing his blunder. There was just nothing but physical attraction, and even that was fading quickly for Floyd.
But you'd always given him the stimulation he needed. You were always fun. You were always adorable. So squeezable. But now goldfishie was the one squeezing you. He wanted to squeeze goldfishie until he popped. You were his to squeeze!
But when he saw you resting on Riddle's shoulder, his chest ached as he realized he didn't deserve to.
You and Rook had always joked that he'd steal your boyfriend one day. Vil always rolled his eyes when the two of you would snicker about it, and give you a soft kiss on the cheek, while smacking the back of Rook's head.
So when the two of them had stood nervously before you, tightly gripping each other's hands, you were devastated, but not surprised.
You didn't want to hear their explanations or excuses. Sevens, they tried, but you knew it would be better not to hear it. You could feel vindicated, not giving them a chance to apologize for hurting you, and it would also spare you the painful details that would only break your heart further.
So after shutting the door in their faces, you'd called a certain someone for a sugar pick me up. Trey arrived with a three tiered cake, and held you gently as you cried and told.him your woes. It wasn't until you started dropping self deprecating comments about how you'd never been worthy of Vil, how you'd always known he would leave you one day, that he shuts you up with a kiss. His jaw drops and he apologizes immediately, telling you he knew it was way too soon to be making any move, he just couldn't stand you talking about yourself that way. It wasn't fair to you.
When he leaves, he apologizes again, and tells you not to worry about him. If you don't see him that way, he'll be fine. If you do….take your time. He's willing to wait for you to be okay again.
And he really is willing to wait. And when you tell him you're willing to give the two of you a shot, a month later, he smiles softly and offers to start with a simple cooking date….literally right then because he has an unbirthday party he has to prepare for, but he also wants to be around you.
While you are slowly slipping into a life of domestic bliss, the cracks are beginning to show with Rook. Anytime Vil isn't perfect, he hears about it, and now….well, Vil isn't stupid enough to miss the way Rook's eye has been wandering over to Neige.
He didn't have to be perfect with you. As he eats the flavorless salad Rook made for him, he watches Trey feed you a chocolate covered strawberry, and playfully kiss away the chocolate that stains the corner of your mouth. Rook says something bitter when he notices, and he always notices, indicating his hypocritical jealousy.
It's amusing, in a painful way, how Rook pretends he wants what you and Vil used to have. But what he really wants is to keep his pretty doll on its shelf, and all to himself.
When he'd first expressed interest in you, you had asked him. "Will I be pushed to the side in favor of an arranged marriage, or even just someone with more power?"
And he'd laughed. Nah. No one wanted to be trapped in a marriage with him (his parents had tried), and he didn't want more power. He wanted you.
But his pride was something even he couldn't get past. And when a fae duchess with similar image issues in her own nation had come to him, proposing a marriage of convenience, he had agreed without a thought.
"You're overreacting. We can still be together.' "I don't want- no, I can't be your side piece." "For sevens sake, she has a whole harem at her disposal. It's a marriage in title only." "I don't want that. What happened to what we had being enough?" "You're being selfish, and childish." "I'm being selfish? We could settle down in luxury with what you have!" "If you can't see fit to share me, only nominally, mind you, then go." "I will!"
He was furious. You knew his life. You knew a marriage like this could change life for the both of you. What the fuck were you on about?
Over the next few months he'd begun the courtship process with the duchess, going to boring political events to cement his position within that fae court. He kept expecting you to come crawling back. He'd sneer at you and make you prove you deserved him. At least, that's what he thought at first. But the more time passed, the more he just wanted you back in his arms where you belonged. He even has arranged for his room in the fae kingdom to have an extra large bed, so that you would always be comfortable.
One morning, he heard murmurs throughout Savannahclaw. He saw the side glances, and the hasty hushes as he passed. And he knew.
He stormed over to Diasomnia. Surely you were trying to make him hurt. And the best way to do that was for you to start seeing Draconia.
But when he started yelling at the lizard, he had nothing but confusion on his face. Yes, he found you very attractive, but no, he wasn't courting you. Leona was about to yell at him, tell him he couldn't lie to him, when you entered the room…on Vanrouge's arm.
Your eyes widened, and flickered between him and the lizard, before you groaned and rolled your eyes. You whispered something to Lilia, and the two of you were about to leave when he got the urge to yell at you.
"That scrawny twerp will never be able to love you like I can!"
You slowly turned to look at him, and sneered, before saying, "Thank God for that."
#3k followers#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#jade leech x reader#jade leech#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech#vil schoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar
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Hiii! Im not sure how requests are doing, but I wanted to add one in if that’s okay? Based off the I’m So Sorry story, what if reader went missing for months. None of the toys know what happened, because the company was like “You know what? Nah we can’t risk it”. And then the day right before the Hour of Joy a new toy is revealed in Play Care (or wherever else), a mermaid/merman 👀 And then that just further fuels the toys want to cause the Hour of Joy once they find out
Harmful Revelations
Note || for those confused, here’s the link to the post. BUT— THE ANGST?? HELLO?
Note V2 || sorry this took so long, it’s mayhaps short and stout. Headcanons like before, but this will work okay?
Sypnosis || How would one think this is a dream come true? Well you’re wrong. So out for long and long time had you been found missing, how wonderful to know your importance in their eyes.
Something felt off, strange. You were gone for so long, quite a long time now. It was appearing to be strange to both CatNap and DogDay alike, all the other Smiling Critters had shared the same sentiments. Why did you disappear so suddenly? Nothing could be known about you, you simply just went off the grid.
DogDay had tried asking around, any employees in sight that he could find. Even trying to take it up with any superior, alas he was left without a plausible answer. Always faced with, “Sorry, but your angel has been terminated.” or, “Oh, em? I’m pretty sure [First Name] quit as far as I know.”
Many, and by many toys, were visibly concerned about your lack of appearance. Huggy and even Mommy asked about You, to which DogDay had apologized – he was in the dark as they were. Pug-a-Pillar felt sad, he couldn’t do anything to help, or even find out anything plausible. Mommy reassured the fluffy pillar, saying how many toys felt sad about you not showing up to the building anymore.
Oh hell.
Soon enough, their anger was rightfully provoked. A new toy had been introduced to Game station, retaining an appearance that was very reminiscent of your physical and mental quailites. Mommy found it odd and disturbing even for someone like him, why did this half-human, half-fish person look so closely like you?
The insomniac cat was the first to notice this alongside Mommy as she had talked about her concerns with CatNap, spreading this information quickly among the Smiling Critters. Soon so many more had found out about this, knowing about the toy that looked so much like you. Huggy Wuggy was one of the few that had a gall to strike a conversation with the toy, nobody (or no toy) had expected the hugger to come back with a very strikingly angry look about his wits.
Oh they were all very angry as soon as Huggy began spreading this information around once again, revealing the fact it was indeed you. Completely transformed, your consciousness being molded into the body you were in now. You were experimented on as they were, the few of them were extremely set off.
Might one even dare say that they were unnerved to the point to finally set off the Hour Of Joy.
Let’s say nobody came out alive to tell the tale for a reason.
#poppy playtime#poppy playtime x reader#poppy playtime chapter 3#poppy playtime angst?#poppy playtime huggy#mommy long legs#huggy wuggy#ppt2#ppt 3#dogday poppy playtime#so many tags ahhh
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Hi!!! Would it be okay if I requested a worried head cannon for Astarion(Or Wyll or Halsin, I’m fine with any of them) where they lost track of Tav while on a scouting/stealth mission or on the battlefield? Thank you!
A/N: I went with losing track of their Tav on a stealth mission because that seemed the most anxiety-inducing… lol. Poor boys. Sorry, it’s not my best, I was rushing :(
✧ Losing Track of Their Tav on A Stealth Mission ✧
Astarion:
The most likely to panic, even though he swears he’d be the last to do so.
He’s running all the worst-case scenarios through his head: you’ve been killed, you’ve been captured, you’re being enslaved just like he is…
Immediately jumps to the worry that Cazador or someone working for him has realized the two of you are together and plans to get to him through you.
He considers getting one of his companion’s attention but ultimately decides to continue sneaking in alone. He’s pretty good at sneaking, and the others could screw it up. He can’t leave your fate in the hands of someone klutzy like Gale accidentally casting fireball and alerting everyone to their presence.
If he wasn’t intent on killing anyone in his way, he is now. They mean nothing to him. You mean everything to him. Do the math. You > Them.
Definitely ends up compromising the mission, by either getting seen and alerting everyone or by causing enough chaos and death that people begin to notice. But none of that matters anymore to Astarion, whose only goal is finding you. Of course, if anyone else was to make that mistake, he’d chew them out for it. But he can’t see how hypocritical he’s being: all he can think about is your safety.
When he finds you, he masks his fear with anger. He calls you an idiot, a fool- every name in the book. He doesn’t intend to hurt your feelings, he just doesn’t like how his affection for you puts him in a vulnerable place. He was terrified of losing you. The fear of that greatly outweighs the fear of the tadpole.
He’ll get you away from there, away from everyone else. He can’t trust the strangers of Baldur’s Gate, and he doesn’t want his companions to see him this emotional.
After the two of you are back to safety, and after he finishes berating you, he yanks you into a tight hug, refusing to let go.
You tell him you’re sorry, and that it’s over now and you inform him it’s okay to let it out. Be prepared for the shoulder of your top to become soaked in tears. He’ll cry into you, telling you in between sobs how you were the first person in forever to see him as an equal. He needs you. You are the only one who sees him. He can’t lose you.
After he’s calmed down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke. Something about also being afraid to lose his very own privately stocked food source. Of course, you see right through the facade. You let him feed after that comment anyway, softly petting his hair as he does so.
And even though normally while feeding, he’d be comforting you, telling you it’s alright, that it’s almost over- you end up comforting him, shushing him, and telling him the two of you will be okay- you’re not going anywhere.
Wyll:
Probably the most level-headed in his reaction, even if his thoughts are racing like mad. As the Blade of Frontiers, he’s learned how to think strategically in most situations. Of course, that’s easier said than done when someone you know and love is personally on the line.
He’s figuring out all the possibilities, working out how likely each one is, in order to figure out which avenues to first explore.
He continues on his own before remembering he’s not acting solo anymore. He’ll round back to where the others are stationed, and give them the news. He tells them the mission’s priorities have changed, and the goal for now is to find you.
He doesn’t plan on completely abandoning the original job of course. He intends to get right back to business. He can keep both ideas in his head
Tries his best not to blow the original mission while looking for you. Of course, when push comes to shove, he’s going to choose you. The mission can be tried again at a later time: he can’t lose you. He’s lost too much in this life to accept having to part with another.
If he has no leads and it's been a while, and he’s growing increasingly nervous, he might consider calling Mizora and asking for her help, even though he knows it’s going to cost him more years of servitude. Having to work for a devil is much more bearable when there’s someone you love. He’d make a thousand deals if it meant you’d stay safe.
Once he finds you, he’ll quickly ask if you’re alright, before ushering everyone out. He wants nothing more than to speak to you freely, but he knows right then isn't the time to do it.
After you are safely far enough away, either back at camp, or somewhere secluded, he’ll firmly but kindly demand to know what the hell you were thinking, sneaking off like that?! He wants you to know he was worried, dammit! He loves you! Can’t you see how much losing you would hurt him?
He’ll take you into his arms and place a soft kiss on your forehead. You are so precious to him. Please, please, he asks, be more careful.
He vows to be at your side for any future stealth missions. He loves how brave you are, and how much you want to protect him. Just let him protect you in return.
Halsin:
Halsin probably reacts the least because he has the most faith that you’ll be okay. He sees you as his savior- a savior of his people, of the grove, of the tieflings- you are the most incredible person to him.
That being said, he’s not going to simply do nothing if he thinks you’ve run into trouble. You mean so much to him, of course he’s going to change courses and instead go search for you!
He’s also going to rope the others into helping him. I mean, he’s not forcing them or anything, but he does regroup and tell the others of his concerns. He’s very calm and level-headed, but also quite determined, so the others have few qualms about switching gears and following him.
He’s also the most adept at staying hidden while looking for you, being able to wild shape into an inconspicuous animal like a cat or a rat or a bird. He uses his druid abilities to his advantage, steering clear of confrontation as he makes a beeline to where your scent takes him.
Once he finds you, if you yourself haven't been discovered and taken, he’ll stay in animal form, and carefully guide you to a reliable exit. However, if you’ve already been caught, be prepared for things to get hairy. (Get it? Hairy?)
He will not hesitate to shift into a big-ass bear and rip people’s throats out as he carries you on his back to safety. Even though this makes him a much more large and obvious target, he’ll do it, if it means keeping you protected. Any hits or damage he can take, he can heal from, all the less pain you have to endure.
He absolutely brings you somewhere outside of the city. He feels safest in nature, and in order to calm down, he needs free-flowing nature, which is hard to come by in Baldur’s Gate.
He’s going to squish you- even if you’re bigger than him. He’ll lay you down gently, before resting on top of you, keeping balanced so that you don’t have to support all of his weight. He needs to be close to you, preferably with skin-to-skin contact. He needs your warmth, your smell, the softness of your skin… It centers him and brings him back down to earth.
He’ll voice his worries while simultaneously complimenting your skill. He doesn't want you to feel incapable, but he must let you know how he felt in that moment when he feared you were hurt or worse.
You are his light, you brought him out of the shadows. And he can’t bear to lose you. Please, don’t fade away. Don’t leave him in darkness once more.
...
Please Like & Reblog!!!
#astarion imagine#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#wyll imagine#halsin x reader#halsin imagine#bg3 x tav#bg3 x reader#bg3#hc#hcs
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I have a lot of thoughts about Steve who craves physical affection, who thinks of his worth in terms of what he can do for other people, and who got very drunk at high school parties. This is one of them
CW for heavily implied past dubcon (not between Eddie and Steve). Please take care
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Eddie has never seen Steve drunk.
At least – not up close. There had been a few high school parties back in the day where Eddie had passed by the “Keg Stand King,” but since he’s come to know Steve personally (intimately), Steve has barely touched alcohol.
He’s told Eddie the story of being drugged against his will and how he doesn’t want to repeat the feeling of losing control, and how he doesn’t like not being able to drive if he needs to, and how the hangover would probably just trigger a migraine anyway – and, really, he just doesn’t drink much anymore.
Yet tonight had been a special occasion: Robin’s birthday. She herself isn’t much for alcohol (for at least some reasons that match up with Steve’s), but drinking, she said, feels like a part of the birthday experience. She’d somehow gotten Steve to match her beer for beer, for “emotional support,” and it hadn’t taken long for the both of them to become entirely inebriated.
Time has apparently greatly eroded Steve’s tolerance.
Eddie had distantly expected him to be kind of a bitchy drunk—and he had become a bit cattier, for sure—but mostly he’d just become affectionate. There had been hugs for nearly everyone, and he’d spent the latter half of the party slowly migrating into Eddie’s lap, plying him with constant kisses on the cheek and giggling ridiculously at nearly everything Eddie had said.
It had been sort of adorable (not that Eddie will tell him that; no, he’s going to sit on that information until it benefits him).
It’s a little less fun now that he’s trying to cart Steve up to his room and into bed. Steve is a bit wobbly, and a lot heavy, and is much more interested in trying to cling to Eddie like a koala and bury his face in Eddie’s neck than he is in actually walking anywhere.
“Y’know, we could cuddle to your heart’s content if you’d just let me get you to bed,” Eddie points out when he and Steve have stalled out partway down the hall, leaning against the closed door to the bathroom.
Steve hums vaguely, tightening the grip he has on Eddie’s t-shirt. “But you’re out here,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of Eddie’s neck.
A shiver travels down Eddie’s spine at the feeling of Steve’s warm breath ghosting across his throat, but it doesn’t go much further than a gentle, dying flutter in his gut. As affectionate as Steve has been, as hungry for contact as he’s acted all night, there’s been nothing sexual about it. It’s been all hugs and sweet kisses, not heated embraces and sloppy make outs.
Besides– Steve’s drunk. Eddie’s not going to take advantage.
He wedges a hand between himself and Steve and gently pushes Steve back.
“I’m coming to bed with you, you colossal dork,” Eddie says.
Steve blinks at Eddie, slightly unfocused. “Oh.” He finally heaves up and away from the wall, grabbing Eddie’s hand to tug him along as he weaves unsteadily down the hall. “Well why didn’t you say so?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, all affection. “Where else would I be going?”
Steve stops when they get to his room, apparently pondering the answer.
“Away?” he finally volunteers, half-questioning, as if he’s hoping he’s wrong.
“No, baby,” Eddie assures him immediately, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “I’m staying. Gotta make sure you don’t choke on your tongue after you pass out, anyway.”
“’m not that drunk,” Steve says; he rolls his eyes and then immediately seems to regret it, reaching out for Eddie’s shoulder to steady himself.
“Uh huh,” Eddie drawls. “Okay, time for bed, big boy.”
Grumbling, Steve releases Eddie to shuffle over to the bed, where he flops down on his back with a sigh, jeans and all.
“Alright, not exactly what I meant, but I can work with this,” Eddie says, kneeling on the bed by Steve’s hip.
They’d managed to ditch their shoes in the entryway, but they’re otherwise fully dressed, and Steve is going to be uncomfortable if he tries to spend the whole night in his belt and jeans.
Steve squirms a bit when Eddie reaches for his belt buckle, as if he’s not quite sure whether to move away or not.
“Eddie…” he groans – an exasperated sort of groan, rather than the usual way he groans Eddie’s name when he’s squirming on the bed.
“Just hold still,” Eddie shushes him with a quick pat to the hip.
He gets as far as pulling the tongue of the belt through the buckle before Steve’s hands shoot out and grab Eddie by the wrists. His grip is surprisingly strong, considering how uncoordinated he’d been tonight, and Eddie stills immediately.
“Steve?” Eddie looks up to see Steve staring down at him, wide-eyed and apprehensive; hell, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he might say Steve looks… sort of frightened.
“Not– not tonight,” Steve says, enunciating carefully, and Eddie’s confusion only increases.
He doesn’t want his belt off tonight? Is that what he’s worked up about?
In the wake of Eddie’s baffled lack of response, Steve only grows more insistent, tugging Eddie’s hands away from his waist.
“Not while I’m–” Steve breaks off, licking his lips nervously. He shakes his head and adds quietly, “Please.”
Brows furrowed, Eddie stares at Steve a second longer. “Not while you’re…?” Then the penny drops, and Eddie jerks away from Steve so quickly that Steve barely has time to let go. “Oh shit, no. That’s not– no, I’m not– Steve, fuck, no, that’s not what I’m doing.”
Steve stares up at Eddie, the anxiety he’s a little too drunk to mask still lingering in his eyes.
“I promise, I was only trying to get your belt and pants off so you’d be more comfortable. For sleeping!” Eddie says quickly. “But you can keep them on if you want. Hell, put on more layers. Do you want a jacket?”
Distantly, Eddie realizes he’s rambling and tries to stop; it doesn’t seem to be helping.
“I– I know I was kissing you,” Steve says, then glances away with a grimace, seeming a bit more sober now. “Practically throwing myself at you. ’m sorry, I just–”
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be,” Eddie says firmly. “Even if you were throwing yourself at me—even though you weren’t; like, I can tell the difference between cuddly you and horny you, okay?—but even if you had been, you can still say no. You can always say no. But I swear, Steve, I was only trying to get you comfy, that’s all.”
For a moment, Steve just breathes, processing Eddie’s words as carefully as his sloshed brain will allow.
“Are you still going to stay?” he finally asks. “Even though I don’t want to have sex?”
“Of course,” Eddie blurts, some dizzying combination of baffled, anxious, and incensed. “I’m only gonna leave if you tell me to.”
And even then, he’d only go as far as the couch downstairs (just in case).
Slowly, Steve nods, then reaches for his belt to pull it off in a series of determined, clumsy movements. He drops it on the floor when he’s done but makes no move to remove his jeans.
Eddie, following suit, resigns himself to an uncomfortable night. He strips off his jewelry and his own belt but leaves his pants on.
All the lights go out, save for a small, dim lamp on Steve’s desk, and then Eddie crawls on top of the covers with Steve, pulling the blanket from the end of the bed—a gift from Claudia—up over both of them.
A little of the churning, anxious mess in Eddie’s chest eases when Steve immediately plasters himself to his side, resting his head on Eddie’s chest (and Eddie just knows there’s going to be drool there come morning, but he can’t bear to move him). All the same, even as he hears Steve’s breathing even out into sleep, Eddie can’t get his mind to rest.
What has he done to give Steve the impression that he’d try to fuck him when he’s too drunk to really say yes? What has he done to make him think he’d leave if Steve doesn’t put out?
Nothing.
Genuinely and truly, Eddie can’t think of anything. There have been plenty of times they’ve hung out, even shared a bed, and they haven’t had sex. Sure, they’re active, but they do actually do other things together.
There have been other nights where sex has seemed like a sure thing, only to be halted by an apologetic look from Steve and the start of a migraine. There have been times Eddie’s called it off because his anxiety has reared up and bit him in the ass. There’s never been anger over it.
That leaves two options: it’s either an imagined scenario stirred up by anxiety and insecurity and alcohol, or… it’s based on a different experience, in a different time and place.
All things considered, Eddie has a terrible, sinking feeling that he knows which one it is.
#is Eddie's attitude a little more socially aware than is warranted by the time period? maybe 🤷#sometimes it's just like that#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#cw past dubcon#cw past noncon#let me know if there are other/better tags to add!
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how to become your dream girl before the year is out
it is never too late to start, you have been putting it off for a long time, you have a lot of information but you don't know how to apply it to your life.
ask yourself
how would the best version of yourself act?
what would the best version of yourself look like?
what are the habits that your best version would have?
what are the goals of your best version?
what would you like to change to get closer to your best version?
2. take action
after knowing what you can do to improve, put it into practice now. some ideas.
start with new habits
be more organized and disciplined
be aware of your value
have a more positive mindset open to change
change your perspective on things
let go of what doesn't serve or benefit you
more self-love
surround yourself only with things that are good for you (also people)
change your internal dialogue to a more positive one.
start acting the way you would like to be, without fear.
3. feel, act and live like your best self
changing old patterns is not easy, but start doing it by replacing those old habits with ones that add to your life.don't live in the past anymore, start living your present, start acting and being the person you have always dreamed of being that doesn't mean you have to completely change your personality, it means you are improving your lifestyle and the way you perceive yourself and the world, you are changing your perspective to a much more positive one, you don't deserve to keep on living feeling bad about yourself and wishing you were someone else. you have the power to change.
4. create your personal signature
reconnect with the things that you love, inspire and make you feel you.
create your personal signature, with your favorite scent (perfume and cream), makeup, clothing and accessories, likes and hobbies, your favorite places, everything that inspires you to be your best version.
but in the end, the first step begins when you start to become aware of your value and that you deserve everything you want.
#that girl#dream girl#clean girl#clean girl aesthetic#pink pilates princess#green juice girl#red smoothie girl#that girl 2022#it girl#girl blogger#dream life#dream body#lifestyle blog#healthy lifestyle#lifestyle#leveling up#levelup#level up journey#self development#self worth#self improvement#self love#self concept affirmations#divine femenine#feminine energy#divine feminine#dark feminine energy#high value mindset#high value woman#high maintenance
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'Ex' husband Gojo - You and I
Part 1
Tags- Gojo x fem reader, angst, self depreciation/suicidal stuff, miscarriage centered chapter
Synopsis- a look at both of their POVs, the aftermath a month later.
Satoru is devastated but so are you but worse...
22nd October, 2016...
22nd October of 2016 was when it happened. The Legal Separation between you and Satoru Gojo.
Fortunately or not but the whole fiasco never went outside the borders of The Gojo Estate, despite it involving a few 'third parties'.
Luckily, the servants of the house were on a week off or else by now you and Satoru would have become the new gossip of the town no doubt.
Mr Ijichi, an assistant director at the Jujutsu High and a very close and trusted accomplice of your husband... or ex husband, you can't decide.
He is probably the only person who knows about it, not in detail of course since Satoru is very specific on who he wants to be close with but yes, you suspect Mr Ijichi is a bit aware of what went down because he was the one driving the car on that day.
You also suspected at first that maybe Ms Shoko is also in light of the events because she is definitely someone who gets her information one way or the other and the fact Satoru might have... no! He has infact told Shoko about all of it.
When Satoru introduced you to the World of Jujutsu Society, Ms Shoko was the first he got you to meet with and since you have had good relationship with her.
Since your legal separation happened, Shoko and Ijichi have been a mediator, set up by Gojo, for communication since, you know it and so does everybody who knows Gojo Satoru, he's too prideful to go back wagging his tail where he's not needed. Or so he thinks.
Satoru thinks because of his work schedules, he is not able to spend time with you as your husband and not able give you the life you hoped for which definitely affected your mental health (as predicted by his six eyes) and thus you decided for a divorce.
But the new information that he got on that day from you made him realize maybe he was indeed wrong thinking that you are perhaps different from other women who only fell for the looks but mostly for the money and the status of the Gojo family in general.
He never had plans to marry in the Jujutsu Society or The human World (haha as if!) be it arranged or love. He did not care. He had plans to become the wise Sage or a Monk of wisdom, a teacher/mentor like in video games. But all of it changed when he met you, a simple average human.
You were the one who taught Satoru so much. You were the one made him realize that even the strongest sorcerer has a soft heart that has the capability of falling in love.
But what made him solidify his love, making him realize that yes he has fallen in love and he is glad it is you was when you (unknowing about his past with the incident with Riko and Toji) made him realize the fact that all humans are not same.
This was the last and final straw that made the fall for you really bad and sick. He wanted to marry you. But he never said it out loud because of the repercussions you would have to go through and that is why he protested as well when you brought up the topic of marriage.
But none of it matters
None of it
Not anymore
He is done
All humans are the same.
Greed
Lust
Money
Fame
Power
All humans are indeed the same...
Satoru has no interest in any sort of relationships anymore. Everything feels sour and bitter. All he knows now is his role. His role as the strongest sorcerer, a responsible mentor, as the Head of his Clan, Face of the Jujutsu Society altogether. These are his priorities.
Gojo would very much prefer a permanent sort of freedom from you now knowing your true face.
'Ugh awful, so disgusting. A whore? Really? Is that all you thought of yourself y/n when you voluntarily got physical with me before marriage?', he said to himself in his head.
The only reason Gojo sent Separation papers instead of divorce was because it would startle both of yours and his families. The society isn't kind to divorced women and that too the ex wife of the six eyes sorcerer. Oh what a wonderful way to make him vulnerable for the curses and curse users!
He can say whatever he want against you but somewhere, inside that beautiful big and kind heart of his, he wants to talk to you, talk things out, talk about your feelings and wants to listen. But his mind refuses to let down his walls, ever gain!
Days following the 22nd October, you mostly stayed locked up in your room while Mr Ijichi packed all of your husband's clothing and accessories.
Mr Ijichi isn't stupid, he knew it must be really hard for you that is why he tried his best to enter, collect the things and exit as quietly as he could.
'A whore? Why did you even say that you bitch. You really don't deserve ANYTHING in this world!', your days began with endless self loathing.
5th December, 2016
A lot happened in the month following the incident.
Most of your days were spent in self loathing because after your miscarriage at just 3 months, the doctor had declared that you're (uterus) not strong enough to carry a child.
These words are something a woman is most scared to ever hear in her life. And you were one of the unfortunates.
You had stopped taking your post miscarriage medications. You're mental health got worse as well due to continuous thoughts on how you acted up on impulses and ruined the only good thing you had. Days followed you couldn't even get the strength to get up from the bed every morning. Fading appetite lead to refusing food which further resulted to visible sunken cheeks.
The house staff didn't knew anything that took place during their week off and they had noticed changes around the household. From your behavior to the absence of the Head of the house. They were also worried for your health and didn't knew what to do.
The head of staff, Mr Kawaguchi, decided to make a call to the Master of the house since it is normal for him to be absent from the house due to his work.
Kawaguchi- Good morning Satoru sama. This is Kawaguchi from the house.
Gojo (a little annoyed)- I'm busy, call me later.
Kawaguchi- Sir actually there's a grave problem at the house.
Gojo (mockingly)- what? Did someone die or something? This better be important-
Kawaguchi- sir its Y/n sama. Y/n sama is not in good health.
Gojo (worried)- w- what?! What're you stupids doing? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? What did the doctors say?
Kawaguchi- uh about that sir... y/n sama didn't let us into her room and actually we had to... (nervously looks back at the the other staff, everyone nods)
Gojo- huh?
Kawaguchi- sir, we had to break into y/n sama's room. We have called the doctors and they'll-
Gojo- break into the room!? What is hap- Nevermind, I'm sending someone. You lot stay there and look after y/n till the docs arrive!
Kawaguchi- y- yes sir!
Gojo was now left worried at what the hell did he just hear on the call. 'What are you upto now y/n'. Is this some trick to bring him back out of pity and pretend nothing happened? That you, a month ago, didn't just randomly demand for a Divorce.
He was really annoyed and even if he wanted to go to the house he couldn't due to being out abroad for missions. He has been busy with overseas missions mostly after the separation.
He decided to send Shoko for a look and to inform him 'EVERY SINGLE DETAIL', verbatim.
Shoko was sitting at the morgue, smoking, when she received a call from Gojo.
'Ha? Gojo? At this hour?', she wondered.
"Yea?", Shoko said with her usual nonchalant voice.
"I need a favor"
Gojo explained her the situation to which she agreed without hesitant, knowing what has been going on between you two and now this.
When she arrived at the Gojo Estate, she was welcomed by the worried faces of the staff that guided her to your room.
She started observing every detail. She saw the entrance door, broken. The inside of the master bedroom, dim, even with long sliding doors facing the beautiful and bright gardens. There were half eaten bowls of food. A trolley with clothes overflowing.
Shoko turned to looked at you and felt her heart wrench a little at the sight of you. She was horrified and worried. She is usually a very calm and relaxed person but you, you really made her loose her calm.
She knows you and has seen you in your good days. In light yellow summer dress beside Gojo, all smiles to now? Like this. Dark circles umder eyes and slight sunken cheeks, chipped lips and several medications.... wait what medications?
There were already a doctor present in the room who declared that its just dehydration and that it'll be okay with a few medicines.
The servants thanked the doctor and ordered the medicines.
Meanwhile, Shoko was already in a shock. The medicines piled up beside you on the bed and the bedside table were... post miscarriage pills. She enquired the whole situation from the staff.
All while, the two women staff got you up in the bed and gave you water.
Eyes half open, you recognised what was happening. You passed out of dehydration and couldn't hear the knocks of the servants outside for breakfast. They were worried and tried the other doors, through the garden, but they were locked. So they broke the entrance and found still in the bed with pills surrounding you. They all got worried and one called the doctor and the head called Gojo.
Shoko noticed you were up and ordered the ladies to open the curtains and windows and leave her for a while. Afterall she's got some questioning to do in Gojo's behalf.
She extended her hand to hold your left hand. It seemed cold to touch. "Hello y/n. Remember me?"
You struggled to open your eyes and look.
"Don't worry i won't ask you how you're doing", she joked.
"But i will ask about the medications y/n. Do not lie. I'm a doctor too", Shoko knew now is not the time but she also knew that if you were pregnant then why didn't you tell Gojo because he obviously didn't know.
Your ears started ringing. And eyes welled up. You were reminded of it again. You wanted to just lay back down and bury yourself in the warmth of the blankets.
But the cat was out of the bag. Shoko is a doctor. She knows medicines. You cannot lie. You cannot hide. You have to be strong, you have to show her that everything is okay and Satoru needn't be worried, not like as if he is anyway.
"Please.", you mumbled, she had leaned in and caressed your knuckles. "Shoko, do not let anyone know of this, i beg of you."
"Shhh", she shushed you, "Don't say that. I won't. I promise"
She continued, "... but what about Satoru? You can't hide it from him. The child was his as much as it was yours-"
You cut her in, "Shoko i wanted to tell him! I wanted him and only HIM to be the first to get the news of the...", you struggled but continued, "...of the pregnancy. I got to know myself in the 2nd month and he was coming back home just next month, it was all perfectly going... until it wasn't".
Shoko was visibly upset. She didn't knew what to say. All she was aware of was the things Gojo told her...
He went home with gifts and souvenirs for you, you gave him divorce papers, he tried convince you not to, you weren't ready to listen, you said some hurtful things, he realised his place and agreed for separation over divorce.
Looking at you she can tell you would breakdown any moment.
And she was right.
You did.
You broke down in tears.
Hyperventilating you mumbled, "Shoko they said i can't have children! Can you believe that! I can't have kids! And I'm so stupid i brought out a f-fucking Divorce paper when Satoru came home."
"He was so angry with me i could feel it even if he wasn't! I'm stuck Shoko! I-i just - just want to go hide under a rock or maybe i should just kill mys-"
Shoko pulled you in for a hug. "Ah! Thats enough. That's enough. Shush now. Its okay."
"I won't tell Satoru, don't worry"
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#gojo satoru#jjk#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo x reader fluff#jjk x reader fluff#gojou fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x reader smut#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru angst#gojo x reader angst#jjk angst#jjk x reader angst#gojou angst#satoru gojo angst#gojo angst#gojou x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojou#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader fluff#gojou x reader smut#gojo headcanons
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MY SHY NEIGHBOR ( chapter 3. )
— CHAPTER THREE: lovestreams …
— 𖦹 warnings? 18+, cursing, masturbation, jeongin is down bad ( this is told in jeongins pov )
previous chapter - next chapter - my shy neighbor masterlist
jeongin genuinely was gonna go to sleep, but han jisung put the thought into his head. “fuck it.” he got up — sitting at his desk, opening his laptop. “oh that’s right.” he grabbed his headphones, sitting back down.
after plugging his headphones in, he typed in his favorite sight, scrolling through the main feed, searching for his favorite cam girl. “shit.” he cursed realizing she wasn’t streaming that night. should he just go to bed then? but he was already hard.
he was about to head to twitter, when he got a popup ad. “hm?” he read the words on the screen. “love streams?” he never heard of it, he shrugged, clicking the ad — what’s the worst that could happen.
he rid himself of his jeans while waiting for the page to load. his eyes widened at the new selection of girls, this sight was much bigger than the previous one, his cock twitched at the all the content.
he scrolled down, palming himself until he came across the top streamers selections. he scrolled over searching for the best one until he stopped at one. “lovergirl?” he clicked the screen, your body coming into frame, the camera off your face — you must want to keep your identity hidden.
“hi everyone!” your voice low and seductive, but also had a sweetness to it — that was what he liked the best.
“did you guys miss me?” you asked, your white robe hanging off your shoulders along with your bra strap. “yes? good i missed you guys to.” you chuckled, his cock was begging to be freed. “oh you want me to take it off?” you pulled at the robe, he nodded his head, like you could see him.
“if i do something nice for you, doesn’t that mean you have to do something nice for me?” he knew what that meant, so did the other viewers, because soon your tip jar was filling up. he reached for his card, typing in his credit card information.
he typed in $50 without flinching, you smiled at all the donations. “you guys are too kind.” you said, coming closer to the camera, he could now see your plump lips, your boobs about to spill from your bra, he bit his lip. “i guess i owe you guys something.”
you slowly undid your robe, letting it fall, your bra was next, you slowly pulled down the straps, undoing the latches, watch the bra fall into your lap, your boobs bouncing from being freed, he could hold it anymore, he stood up, pulling his underwear down, he cock sprung from his boxers, hitting his abdomen. “shit, he hissed.”
“is this what you guys wanted?” you chuckled , squeezing your boobs together, they looked so soft, he could only imagine what they felt like. “fuck.” he squeezed the base of his cock, teasing himself.
“no? this isn’t what you want?” your lips formed a pout, he thought about what they would look like covered in his cum. “well what is it you want?”
he quickly typed into the chat box. ‘your pants, take your pants off.’
“my shorts?” his heart fluttered, he knew there was thousands of comments saying the same thing, but it felt like you were personally answering him. “don’t you like them?” you teased, pulling at your waistband, a whimper emitting from your lips as you let it go, the elastic snapping against your waist.
“i wore them especially for you.” for him? that made him squeeze his cock, he for sure found his new favorite streamer.
“i guess you have to do something else for me.” he quickly typed in $100 dollars, he knew he shouldn’t have spend that much, but he was desperate — clicking the send button. “oh? 100 dollars, you must be really eager.” he froze, you were talking about him.
“what’s your name?” you said. “thank you FOX.YJN, everyone say thank you to FOX.YJN.” he smiled, the way you said his name, fuck he was gonna cum, he had to stop himself, you hadn’t even done anything, yet you had this hold on him.
you sat back, your legs fully on display, as you took off your shorts, revealing your white matching lace underwear, a wet patch in the middle. “shit.” he whispered, as you rubbed yourself through your underwear. “fuck.” you whimpered.
he seen the tips go up, and the comments telling you to remove your underwear, he didn’t hesitate to type in another $150, hitting send. “o-oh, YJN seems to want it more than any of you tonight.”
you slid your panties down your leg, spreading your legs, your wet cunt on display. “i’m so wet right now.” you moaned, rubbing your folds slowly. “f-feels so good.”
jeongin began to move his hand up and down his cock, moving slowly with you. “fu-fuck please speed up.” he groaned to himself, but it seemed like you answered his prayers, your fingers slowly entering your cunt, you moaned.
the noises from your pussy filling up his earbuds, as you sped up. “fu-fuck my fingers aren’t enough.” you moaned. “i wish it was yours.” he moaned, probably louder than he should’ve, but hearing you say that, in that whiny tone drove him crazy.
“fuck i’m gonna cum.” you whimpered. “m-me too.” he sighed, squeezing his tip. “fuck, please cum with me, cum with me please.” your begging really pushed him over the edge.
“fuck, i’m cumming!” you screamed, cumming all over your fingers. “shit.” he came right after, cum spurting from his tip, covering his hand and shirt. “oh fuck.”
you were talking to the camera as he came down from your high. “wow you guys tipped a lot tonight.” you giggled, your lips swollen from biting them.
“i should show my face next time?” you read the comments. “i told you guys already, maybe one day, but not right now.”
you interacted with a few more comments before, you slid your robe back on, covering your body. “i have to go now guys.” you pouted. “i know, i wish i could stay with you guys longer, maybe next time.”
you blew a kiss to the camera, before the stream cut off — leaving jeongin to sit with his thoughts, fuck it was his first time watching you, yet you left this impact on him, he had to see more of you.
he closed his laptop, grimacing at the sticky mess he created. “i guess i should get cleaned up.” he got up from his chair.
it hadn’t even hit him that he spent 300 dollars.
— ( taglist. OPEN ) @soulsbbg @k-poplv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @bbokarimenu @enczen @queen-in-the-shadows @thesweetesttattoo @ririlinoriri @aloverga @ashiitex @ddazed-lhs @heartsforhyunjin @chlodavids @simp4myself @surefornext @lostwonderwall @xxr-s4sha @charmer-c @vixensss @frobin4ever @bmnyy @semi-semiisbae @m111nho @i2innie
©LUVYENI
#kpop x reader#skz fic#skz texts#skz x reader#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz x female reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids fic#stray kids texts#yang jeongin fanfic#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin fic#jeongin x reader#jeongin imagines#yang jeongin smau#skz smau#stray kids smau
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