#WHO FUCKING KNOWS I NEVER GAVE HER A ROLE IN THE END BUT I WILL MAKE HER KNOWN
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Progress on Mentor Sissel AU
CHAPTER ONE IS IN THE WORKS! I just need to write five whole paragraphs ya know? describing ghost tricks is hard. But it will be out by this weekend! Stay tuned to an upload of the first chapter on ao3!
#ghost trick#ghost trick phantom detective#ghost trick sissel#ghost trick yomiel#Ooo man the irony I'm packing in this is funny#Trent and lazzie#mentor sissel au#Will the pigeon man appear? WHO KNOWS#WILL FIANCEE SISSEL?#WHO FUCKING KNOWS I NEVER GAVE HER A ROLE IN THE END BUT I WILL MAKE HER KNOWN#also there's this other oc that's based on fransizka von karma from ace attorney#she's fun#Trent questions how he wasn't dead until that night#the 8ball exists and oooo boy does he have a role#.....lynne will definitely die once again. at least twice in this fic because of fucking course she would#inspector cabanela#he's here for good vibes and fun times#...those barely happen#i mainly write angst so be prepared motherfuckers
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END GAME
PART ONE
pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
warnings: no warnings yet.
notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)
additional notes: this is a long one.
Part two |
[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.
She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”
“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.
Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.
She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.
Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.
Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?
He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.
He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).
His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.
“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.
He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.
Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.
Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”
#Spotify#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer magne#lucifer#PLEASEE THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A SMUT BUT I DECIDED TO DO A BACKGROUND WRITING ON THEM FIRST FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO BLOOM#“END GAME” — LUCIFER X READER
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hiiii i recently watched kanthony (the so called bridgerton show or whatever) and was wondering if u have any fic recs... 👉👈🤭
okay i litchrally have never compiled a list even tho ive been asked before bc i have read too many to keep them organized. but ill do it. Finally. for YOU.
first. my fav period setting fics <33:
tete a tete by caciopepebowl (14k~) this is REQUIRED reading to ME. its a quick read that explores kate and anthonys roles in their family. with an emphasis on KATE specifically bc of the additional hurdles of being a woman with limited funds. and anthony losing his mind on her behalf while shes breaking his heart by being like "the way i was treated was normal?? you dont know anything" and hes like "what? kate you deserved everything. you deserve ALL the love in the world!!" and shes all ">:( well if i do. you do too." . and hes like "oh. well...no. you see.. bc i suck" and shes like -_-. its really sweeeeeet and lovely <3) and really finally gave me the exploring of kates family issues that THE SHOW DID NOT!!!
the longest betrothal by caciopepebowl. (90k~) my FAVVVVV regency setting fic. its sooo good. its basically a continuation that fills in the gap AFTER they get engaged but BEFORE theyre married. and them trying SO hard to be normal about how in love they are lol. SO funny and sweet. and with IMMACULATE characterization
in vino veritas by wagamiller. (~10k) a one shot about kate going to a ladies society event and coming home drunk to anthony and him being soooo smitten with her. sauuuur cute. ive read this like 4 times <3
for reasons wretched and divine by penny_loaf. (~18k. locked fic. need an account.) basically kate and anthony get stuck in a time loop on that first day edwina is receiving suiters. they both think theyre alone in the loop and its depressing until they realize the other is stuck with them too. they try to break the loop and fail repeatedly. after a while they just give up and start fucking bc theres no consequences so who cares LOL. surprisingly tender and sweet
the harsh light of day by burnerraccount. (~22k. locked) explicit one shot. kate has the idea that they should fuck before they get married so theres less pressure on the wedding night. she decides all this without mentioning it to anthony (LOL). so she shows up at his house the night before their wedding. and his footman is like "theres a woman outside to see you" and he in all his goofy almost-married bliss is like "i dont want to see Any woman but my gorgeous, beautiful, amazing WIFE" and his footman is like "well. you see.. it is your wife. uh fiance" and anthonys like "[voice crack] huh ?". very FUNNY
green in its many hues by burnerraccount. kate and anthony decide they are going to be chaste and proper leading up to their wedding. they suck at it SO bad lol
next. modern AUS my best friends <33:
la semi dolce vita by caciopepebowl (~170k) my FAVVVV modern au of ALL time. kate is a private chef. anthonys family hires her when they go on vacation. hes being so normal about it. i promise. this is one of the best characterizations of kate AND anthony in a modern setting. with an extra emphasis on focusing on kate issues. and not JUST anthonys. which is what makes the dynamic sooo good. 10/10. hot. and i love LOVE <3
close encounters of the acutest kind by caciopepebowl (WIP ~74k. only incomplete fic ill put on this list i PROMMY. bc its by the prev author. and i Looove their writing and its sooo good so far <3) kate and anthony meet for the first time the DAY her dad died which is also the SAME DAY hyacinth is born. theyre both having a panic attack and end up running into the same empty hospital room to have it. are then intrinsically linked forever. as one is. run into each other multiple times over the years. with different feelings each time. and they are so normal (lying) <3. i love them
chosen & cherished by trash4ficsaboutlurv. (~42k) this is so underrated. kate runs a charity organization. anthony is CEO of whatever the fuck. she goes to his company when theyre holding some audition for what charity theyre going to invest in and kate is the last speaker and when its finally her turn he doesnt even pay attention. and shes exhausted and overworked and just oveeeer it All. so she just ends the meeting and tells him to go fuck himself. LOL. genuinely really good. and hot <3
sidelines by ramarro. (~60k) this was THE quintessential kanthony modern AU in 2022. took a far fetched premise and somehow made it soooo good. and hot. and cute. kates an artist who sees a picture of anthony on tinder and thinks he looks obnoxious (lol) but screenshots the photo so she can use it for sketching practice. and then she see him and his grown ass on a date with her BABY sister. and shes like well i was right about him. and lets him know to his face how she feels (LOL). its wild. it slays. read it. theres an explicit follow up to it which also slays
three cities and we never lived here by ramarro. (~25k, ~40k) very different modern au where kate and anthony meet on vacation and are very casual with them both not looking for anything (genuinely for once lol) and then seeing each other multiple times over 2-3 years in different cities and still keeping it casual. but slowly slowly slowlyyyy it doesnt feel as casual as it used to. theres 2 fics in this. the first is kates pov. the second is anthony. both very good.
just go with it by suitsusboth. (~18k) kate when booking a flight sees the potential titles like ms, mrs, dr, and "viscountess" listed as a legit option and has a laugh like whos picking this goofy shit and accidentally clicks it. and then on her flight gets upgraded to first class next to anthony bc they assumed she was his wife. and he tries to be mad about it. but well. hes stupid for her in every universe so lol. funny and sweet
the air i breathe and the bane of my existance by the_loosest_moose. (image fic) these are textfics told through instagram, twitter, article and text message screenshots. with some regular text. would just check them out to gauge how you feel about the storytelling method. very fun reads once you get the hang of it
heirlooms by waterlilyrose. (~12k) modern au where kate gets anthonys ring stuck on her finger for days and has to wait to get it off. he is of course very normal about it
a devils love by irony_rocks. (~57k) this may not be for everyone but kanthony season came out around the same time as the batman (2022) and as someone who was crazy insane about both. this was the MOMENT for me in spring 2022. its a crime mafia type au where kates character is inspired by selina kyle and the pebble lounge where she worked in the batman movie. and well. if youre about that specific combo check it out. if you arent i wouldnt recommend this lmao. its not a batman au
break point (series) by penny_loaf. (multiple. ~25k) like prev this entire series gets kind of dark bc it really delves into the pressure of the world its set in. on TOP of the issues kate and anthony already have. i LOVED it. BUT also i am an ANGST and crazy, complicated characters STAN. which may not be the case for everyone.. but again very GORGEOUS to ME <3 and hot. LOL
take me home by kendal_lynne. (~12k) romcom type explicit one shot where kate makes the mistake of telling anthony her ex couldnt make her come. and hes all like i volunteer as tribute PLEASE PKLEASE PLEASE PICK ME CHOOSE ME PLWASEE etc
we never made a sound by writergirl8. (~4k) spy au that was soooooo good and sexy. i wish it was longer
with elaichi by serendipityinwords (~6k) the two biggest bitches at a dinner party find out they're soulmates. LOL. hilarious dialogue
theres probably more i loved that im not remembering rn and maybe ill update this but for now have fun! yippee <3
#to everyone who doesnt gaf sorry for this long ass post#to everyone who does care this took 3 HOURS dont ever say i never did anything for youuuyuyu!!!#bridgerton#kanthony fic#kanthony fanfiction#kanthony#LONG POST#bridgerton*
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Weekend came early: Jason Todd x reader
WARNING: SMUT MDNI!
A/N: I wish you all happy, evenful weekend ;)
***
It was just teasing. Nothing more. She really didn’t plan for it to end up like this.
Or—
Given how good she knew Jason’s tendency to get jealous easily--
Maybe she actually did?
***
It was Friday evening, the best day of the week, since there was two free out-of-work days on the horizon. Days Jason and Y/N were supposed to spend together for the first time in forever. He promised her that – no fighting, no blood, no patching up injuries and no vigilante bullshit.
But.
His promise only encompassed Saturday and Sunday, never including Friday.
Friday was the day when – as usual he was going to go on patrol and beat the shit out of some thugs, while playing the anti-hero.
And that left Y/N forced to tend to herself. To take care of herself in every possible meaning of the word.
“What are you up to?” he peeked into the bedroom, observing his girlfriend, who was currently sitting in front of the mirror putting on her makeup and doing her hair, which was surprising to say the least. Ever since they met each other, years ago, dolling up and Y/N were two words that had rarely fitted in one sentence. Of course, since she was a woman, mascara, eyeshadows, lipstick and all other make-up stuff Jason didn’t know the name of, was coming in handy sometimes, but--!. What the hell was she doing dressing up while he was about to go out?! Why was her hair shiny and flowing down her shoulders and back like a waterfall giving away the most intoxicating smell of her shampoo? Why were her lips red and her eyes so fucking seductive, highlighted by the distinct make up he never saw her wearing before!? And that look she gave him upon hearing his words? That teasing smile that adorned her face?!
WHO THE FUCK WAS SHE DOLLING UP FOR?!
What?” she teased turning towards him with a glint in the eyes. “Can’t a girl look good for herself? Am I supposed to wear sweatpants and have tear stains on my face just because you are out red hooding?”
“YES!” he had to put a hell lot of effort to prevent himself from bursting out with all the rage boiling inside him. Instead he settled on clenching his fist as a substitute for punching the wall. “Yes, you’re supposed to be pretty only for me!” Jason couldn’t care less that he was sounding like a male chauvinist.
“Now that’s a little mean, don’t you think?” she grinned innocently, batting her eyelashes freshly mascara-painted “I thought I was pretty all the time, not only when—“
“DO NOT FUCKING PLAY WITH ME Y/N!” it was so hard to hold back all that rage, jealousy, fear and the sudden feeling of betrayal. Almost as if the upcoming taking on the role of the Red Hood was influencing his behaviour as Jason Todd, the boyfriend¸ who was always caring and gentle and loving.
Huh, apparently not anymore…..
Y/N only rolled her eyes in response, absolutely unfazed by the sudden change of tone, quickly putting finishing touches and getting up from behind the dressing table. Allowing Jason to see her fucking dress for the first time.
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING IN THIS!?”
That piece of material was barely covering her, but perfectly accentuated her body, all those ideally shaped curves in all the right places.
His curves.
Fuck, he could already feel himself growing, the tactical pants becoming tight in the places they were not supposed to at the moment. She was doing it on purpose cause it was impossible that after all those years together she was oblivious and this stupid.
“Something wrong, baby?” her hips swayed when she took a few steps forward and put her hand on his bare shoulder. Right, cause he was only wearing his pants and no chest armour and jacket when her unusual preparations caught his attention, causing him to emerge from the bathroom.
“Where the hell are you going?!” he hissed moving away from her touch despite all the instincts telling him otherwise.
“Oh, you know it’s nothing, just—“
“I told you to not play with me.”
“And I told you repeatedly that I am not intimidated by –“
‘Well maybe you should be.” Just one move of his almost got her cornered. Almost, being the key word here, since the girl saw right through him, capably sneaking away.
“Don’t act crazy Jason. I’m just going out to have some fun.”
“FUN?!”
“Yeah.” she said in a completely innocent tone reaching for her coat “with my other boyfriend”
Jason froze.
Only for a second though.
And then his blood boiled.
She said other boyfriend.
“What did you just say?” the atmosphere in the apartment turned from playful and teasing into serious and heavy in a blink of an eye. “How many other boys do you have?!”
“Three, currently. “
“THREE?!”
“Had more, but cut down when we started dating. Besides you’re still my favourite so I don’t understand why you’re so angry about it. You’re the best in bed and -“
“WHAT?!!” Was she even serious! If Jason was the best that meant she had something to compare. Which could have only indicated that Y/N-. “You slept with someone else other than me!?”
Just the thought of other man kissing her in a way only he was allowed to, was too much. And there was a clear indication that there was more than just kissing. Other man- men- touched her. Traced her body, felt her moving underneath him, heard her calling- moaning- his name, had her hands all over him. Tasted her in a way that was reserved only for him. For Jason Peter Todd. Her fucking boyfriend.
“No.” he hissed grabbing her wrist and spinning her to him before she reached the door. “No.” Y/N met with eyes filled with lust and rage.
“What are you--?” she stuttered feeling him press her into the wall, not doing anything explicit, yet, but observing her like a prey, leaving minimum space between their bodies, once again trying to intimidate her and making it work this time.
“You won’t allow anyone to do what I do to you.” He leaned to whisper in her ear, hot breath laced with possessiveness hit her face “You understand me princess?” the unexpected grip and caress on her hips caused a little shiver to run through her body. “You’re mine. M-I-N-E, baby…”
“You’re—You’re not the boss of me—“ she whimpered making it a little less firm than intended.
“Oh, I am not the boss?” he smirked tightening the grip on her, running fingers over her side, hooking over the hem of her short dress, tracing over her smooth thigh. “Maybe I should show you otherwise then?”
“I’m going—“ Y/N squirmed reaching for the doorknob
“Oh baby, I’m not really letting you.” Her wrist was gripped and pinned back to the wall next to her side stopping her from any movement.
“Good luck stopping me-“
There was really no space for her to fight him anymore, with those vigilante eyes tuned in on the slightest change in her expression, but she was trying nonetheless.
“You really want me to let you go, baby?” his lips brushed her cheek, his body pressing more into her. “Let another man touch you? Kiss you? See what belongs to me?” Jason’s thigh pressed between her legs causing her instinctive reaction in the form of grinding on it. “are you going to sleep with him?” he lifted the hem of her dress, reaching fingers to the inside of her thigh getting the exact shiver he craved.
“Yes!” she squealed even though her behaviour didn’t match the words at all.
“No, baby.” He smiled softly, but his eyes were brutal and it wasn’t hard to guess what was coming for her if she kept on pushing and defying any longer.
“Ye-“
She never finished that sentence, getting pressed into the wall as Jason’s strong body claimed hers. He was done being gentle, biting her bottom lip, lifting her dress all the way up, instantly tearing off her little fancy panties, grabbing the back of her thighs wrapping her legs around him.
Grinding into her heat with the urgency and power of a predator brought to extreme.
The kiss was brutal to say the least. Almost violent. Boosted by the thought of her in the arms of another man. He won’t ever let it happen. She was his.
His, his, his. Only his.
And he was not going to share.
“Jason—“ she whimpered, but he didn’t listen. He was already ripping the upper part of her dress of, biting her neck, moving lips over her collarbone, kissing the part of her breast that weren’t covered by the bra. Marking the soft skin, making sure to leave a reminder who she belonged to. In case she forgot.
“Shit…” she moaned pulling at his hair, tightening her legs on him, leaving a wet trail on the pants he still had on.
Those actions only spurred him on, pushing him to rip off her bra, not caring whether it might have been expensive or her favourite, it had to go. Her breasts and those already stiff, pebbled nipples being the main object of his interest at the moment.
“Mine.” He hissed with voice hoarse, deep, full of uncontrollable lust for her body, grabbing onto the soft bosom, palming it and squeezing mercilessly in primal need to see the hand-shaped bruises all over it. “mine”. The other breast was devoured with his lips and tongue that was capably tasting her nipple, flicking and licking in that perfect way that never failed to make her melt into him. He knew exactly where and how to touch to elicit the perfect sounds and turn them both on to the extreme. For example, he was fully aware that tracing one finger at her sensitive spot, just at the swell of her chest, close to the side would make her cry out in pleasure and get even more wet. Making it so much easier to slid inside later.
“Jason!!” she grinded on him, raking nails down his back, scratching and leaving red marks in their wakes. Her back arched to him, wanting rather to feel his warm, broad bare chest rather than cold hard wall he was relentlessly pressing her into, getting possessive, dominant in the need to trap her.
His mind was screaming with simple thoughts: Possess her. Own her. Devour her. Fuck her brains out.
They were already high, not even getting to the best part yet. And damn, she was dripping from the need of him.
“Jason—“
“Yeah?” he gasped pulling back only to resume his touches, tracing over her thigh getting another string of desperate mewls, smirking in complacency. “what did you want to say princess….?”
“I—“
“I’m listening….” His lips moved higher, brushing over her breast, neck, jaw, moving towards her earlobe, which he bit lightly. “You have my whole attention…”
“Mhm…” she tried to reach to his zipper, but Jason couldn’t let her have what she wanted just yet. She need to be taught what exclusivity meant. “Need you—“
“I know baby…” he smirked again, grinding his hardness more into her. Her sobbing and pleading didn’t do much to change his mind
“Please!” she sobbed, trying once more to free him, but ending up with hands pinned above her head completely helpless and at his mercy. She awoken the animal.
“Say my name princess.”
“Jason!”
“who do you belong to!?”
“You!” she moaned through the tears of need, burning from the desire to feel him, touch him, aching for the sensation only he could bring her.
“That’s fucking right. ME.”
One movement and one scream later she finally got what she wanted. It was just so easy for him to claim her given the fact she was already dripping with arousal.
At this point control was out the window.
Pushing, pulling, moving.
Lips clashing, teeth biting, hands exploring each other's bodies like they were meeting the soft skin and defined muscles all over again. Building the intensity and pleasure as never before.
Pain and pleasure.
Possessiveness and softness.
Her.
His.
Yes.
Almost there!
She was so soft, so warm, so fucking delicious and wet.
He was covered with sweat unable to hold back grunts and squeezing her body, hurting her and adoring all at once.
So close...
Yes....
Yes, yes, yes!
When she screamed his name one more time, digging nails into his back with the force she didn’t know she had, he had no choice but to follow right after.
Never ever before falling into the bottomless pit were so good.
Becoming one.
***
“Was I too rough?”
They vaguely remembered the moment when Jason, with the last of his strength, filled with care and bliss, cradled her in his arms carrying to the bed.
Silkiness of the sheets, gentle kisses and caresses, devoid of rush and voracity were the most stark and the most welcomed contrast to what they did against the wall some time earlier.
“No.” she smiled at him, their blissful eyes meeting. ‘I mean, maybe a little, but no.”
“Well in my defence—“ he started, the guilt upon seeing all her bruises and bite marks taking hold on him.
“There’s no one else but you.” Her soft voice and subtle touch on his cheek cut him off.
“But-“
“I lied.” She sighed, not apologising about it.
“What? Why?”
“I don’t even know now.” Y/N rolled on her back, stretching herself without covering her body testing Jason’s self-control once more.
“Is there a possibility you missed me that much it forced you to push me past my limits?” he smirked, tracing one finger over her exposed belly in a very suggestive manner.
“You’re such a prick Jason Todd. I’m not adding to your blown up ego…”
“Maybe not with words—“ he laughed not stopping his actions, enjoying the Goosebumps that covered her body. “Admit it. You did miss me.”
“Mh. It’s impossible to wait till Saturday and Sunday to have you all to myself” She muttered
“Well I suppose the weekend came early for you baby.” He rolled on top of her starting another round.
Red hood, duties and that little dent in the wall that would cause them to say goodbye to the deposit money, has just became meaningless for the upcoming two and a half days.
#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd x y/n#red hood x y/n#jason todd smut#red hood smut#jason todd fanfiction#red hood fanfiction
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sadbucksblog asked: Ok here’s a thought that’s been running through my head. 1940s steve forcing himself on shy!innocent!reader and forcing her to marry him. Later when reader found out that he ‘died’ (during the plane crash), she was secretly glad. But surprise surprise Endgame steve came back to return the infinity stones n decides to stay with his widow for good.In my head, endgame steve is meaner & more jaded 😈
Oh, definitely!! Endgame Steve gives the most dom vibes out of all his previous versions. If reader thought Steve was bad in the 1940s, she has another thing coming when he returns. His stay in the modern age has corrupted him more and made him kinkier. Like imagine the things he would do against 40s reader now that he knows how to pleasure a woman, because I know for sure they didn’t care about that stuff in the 40s.
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
WARNING - Following contains: non-con, explicit smut, forced marriage, misogyny, 40s gender roles, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Steve, unbalanced power dynamic, mentions of somnophilia, slight bondage, dumbification, loss of virginity.
Title: His return
I imagine with this scenario, Steve liked Y/N a lot before he received the serum. You were so sweet and actually nice to him unlike the rest of the girls, but whenever he asked you on a date, you would reject him, saying you only saw him as a good friend.
And so after he got his super soldier strength, he expected you to like him back, because all women love strong and masculine men who can protect and provide for them (at least that’s how the gender norms were back in the 1940s). So imagine to his surprise when you kindly reject him even then after he has become a living female fantasy.
He literally cannot contain his fury and forces himself on you the same day, ignoring your pleas when you beg him to stop because you wanted to save yourself for marriage and give your virginity to someone you love.
“Don’t worry, my love. It’s not a sin if we end up getting married. You will take me as your husband or I’m going to tell everyone how much of a whore you are for spreading your legs so easily for me.” Steve threatened.
You were so scared, and knowing you had little authority in this situation, you did as he said. You knew no one would side with you if you were to protest against the new hero of the country; Captain America.
A month later, the two of you married and became husband and wife. Steve made you into his little house wife, and for each mission he came home from, he would fuck you for hours until you passed out. You were so clueless of the things Steve did to you sometimes, like whenever he would thrust inside of you in a specific angle causing you to feel an arising sensation from your abdomen. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt good no matter how shameful you were of it.
Whenever you accidentally dropped something, like a plate of food or when you burned dinner in the oven because you forgot the time, Steve would punish you by harsh spanking, telling you how bad of a wife you are for messing up your husband’s food. You would cry and apologize profusely until he stopped and left you with a sore butt.
He would also take you when you were fast asleep. You were a light sleeper, and only would you wake up when he jackhammered into you, causing a burning feeling around your sore pussy. Steve was huge due to his bodily enhancement, and it took a while for you to get used to his size. He would hardly talk when he fucked you as his only mission was to cum for relief. Steve was a busy man after all, with the war still ongoing. The weeks he was gone were the most peaceful times of your life ever since Steve took claim of you.
One fateful day, a military personnel visited you at your house and gave you the unfortunate news of the Captain’s loss. You shedded tears, but not because of Steve’s death. It was rather because the nightmare of a life was finally over. You felt relieved knowing Steve could never put his hands on you ever again.
2 years pass by, and you have all forgotten about Steve Rogers. You would occasionally see his face on posters and articles, and while it brought back some of the trauma, you always reminded yourself that he was gone for good.
At least, you thought he was.
It was a day like any other in your small little suburban house that you moved to after selling Steve’s house, and you suddenly heard the doorbell ring to your front door. You shouted ‘coming!’ to whoever was waiting outside, and turned off the temperature of your oven where there were freshly baked cinnamon rolls waiting for you later.
You open the door, and it’s like your whole world shatters before your eyes. There he was, your unmistakably still alive husband standing there. He looked more older, and it was only 2 years ago he was announced dead.
“Hello, my love. Have you missed me?” He asked darkly. You shrieked and tried to escape through the back door, but it was too late. Steve ran after you and grabbed you around your waist and held you down on the floor, preventing you from struggling away.
“That is no way to greet your husband after thinking he was dead for such a long time. I expected better from you, my wife. Maybe you have forgotten who you belong to and I need to give your dumb little brain a reminder.” He said, and carried you upstairs to your bedroom.
He threw you onto the bed like a rag doll and started to tie your wrists with velvet ropes he had brought with him to the headboard. This was new to you from all your previous experiences of having sex with Steve, and it scared you. “S-Steve, what is this?..what are you-!”
“I’m going to fuck you so hard and make you wish you never pulled that little escape stunt earlier. Silly woman, thinking you stand a chance against me. You’re mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your dumb head understands that.”
He ripped your clothes off harshly, and he unbuttoned his trousers to free his cock from the restraints. You expected him to penetrate you like he always did before. That was the only type of sex you two were familiar with. But this ‘new’ version of Steve had different plans.
Your eyes widened when his face lowered at your pussy, causing you to feel distressed. “W-Wait, don’t do that!…I-It probably smells, I don’t want you to get too close to it!”
“Oh, Y/N, my sweet wife. You’re so clueless. What I did and did not do before I disappeared was when I was a boy. But I’m a man now, and I’m going to teach you so many things of how we can pleasure each other.”
His tongue stuck out of his mouth and he licked a stripe of your cunt, causing you to cry out a moan. You have never felt anything like this before. It almost felt unreal. It only got worse when his tongue glided between your pussy lips, gathering all your juices for him to savour.
“You taste delicious, my love. There isn’t a thing that’s more tastier than your sweet pussy…” he mumbled into your sensitive skin.
Steve never talked like this during sex, and somehow you preferred him not to talk because it made it easier to not enjoy it. This Steve however was making it harder to hate it with each new thing he did, and it made you feel horrible about yourself.
Suddenly, Steve used what felt like his thumb to rub at a particular spot. It caused your whole body to jolt at once like you were electrocuted, and you felt an overwhelming heat spread across your whole body.
“Do you know what this little pearl is, doll? It’s called a clitoris. It’s your most sensitive part of your pussy, and it will only be recognized as what engorges your wetness and surrounds your vagina in 2009 - about 70 years from now on. It also has about 8,000 nerve endings, which is why you become so sensitive when I touch it. Isn’t that fascinating, my love?”
You didn’t pick up a word of what he was rambling about because you were too out of it from his circling motion of rubbing your pearly nub. You couldn’t stop moaning and panting. Again came that familiar feeling of a rising high. Before you knew it, the feeling hit you like a wave and you felt your hole quivering.
“Aaaww, you just came. How cute….” He cooed, with a victorious grin. “Now, let’s get to the main course of this session. Haven’t been in this pussy for a loooong time. And I’m sure you’ve been a good girl not having anyone else inside you, right?”
You didn’t respond to that question, still pretty out of what had taken place moments earlier.
He slapped your cheek lightly but harsh enough to take you out from your daze. “Answer me, whore.”
“N-No! I haven’t, Steve! No one has been inside of me since you disappeared! I promise!” You answered with frantic.
He smiled again. “Good.”
He aimed his cock at your hole and shoved himself in with little care. He groaned loudly, sounding so content with the current feeling. “Oh, I’ve missed her…missed your pussy so much…I’ve missed you..” he said followed with a grunt. “I’m so glad I’m back. Back together with you.”
For the rest of the evening, he would torture you with new tricks of his that opened a new world of sex for you. By the end of the night, Steve had you wrapped in his strong arms, whispering the most obscene things and promises in your ear. Most of them were connected to one promise that made you dread for the future.
A promise of never leaving you ever again.
Note from author: this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned but I really enjoyed the concept and couldn’t help myself. I’m a hoe for endgame AND 40s Steve.🧍Anyways, thank you @sadbucksblog for sharing your idea! <3 Hope you enjoy it!
(This has been reposted here as I have deleted my old account!)
Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3
#dark steve rogers x reader#40s steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers#steve rogers x female reader#drabble#chris evans fanfiction
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Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights
Art Cred: Kimmy_art0912 on Insta!
Description: Among pulsating music, colorful lights, and a few girls who can't keep their eyes to themselves tensions rise, and your patience has finally run out.
Happy Valentine's Day my loves!
The music is loud, blaring through the speakers, vibrating through the floor, multicolored lights spin, casting circles of neon colors across the walls of the bar. The smell of spilled drinks and perfume fills the air as you enter, your hand gripping Miguel’s bicep as you scan the room for Janey.
It’s been…a bit weird since your encounter in Miguel’s room a few weeks ago. At first, you were afraid you’d fucked up, that you had overstepped and ruined your friendship, but then it all kinda went back to normal. As normal as the tentative relationship between two people who almost kissed could be.
When you invited him to be your date for your sorority’s semiformal, on Valentine’s Day no less, you were so very afraid. What if he said no, what if everything you thought you saw, that you felt back in his room was all in your head? Which is why you said as friends right as he said yes. No going back then, so you—like a coward—played up the platonicness of it all, and tried to pretend like you weren’t avoiding eye contact.
Then everything got even weirder with the whole Ava thing. You swore up and down to everyone—except Mina—that you and Miguel are purely platonic, even when you gave him the cold shoulder and cried over him talking with his ex. Super embarrassing, no one but Miguel potentially believed you, and now you’re in a prison of your own making. You should’ve just grabbed him when he came to your door to apologize, should’ve kissed him when he stood in your room admiring his costume. Why didn’t you?
One of your sisters drifts by, bumping into Miguel, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she apologizes.
Right, that’s why, because you’re jealous and insecure and can’t stand to see other people flirt with him. So it’s better to just keep your distance so you don’t end up crying again.
Miguel’s bicep is solid under your grasp, so large your hand can’t even grip all of it.
The theme of the night was Great Lovers of History, which was a fancy way of saying dress like your favorite couple. It wasn’t hard to pick a costume, you, and Miguel both love the novel Dracula, even if it wasn’t as popular as the movie was. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making some undignified noise when you saw how good Miguel looked. Those stupid huge muscles bulging, his broad chest, his toned back, he somehow made the ridiculous costume look impressive, and he even wore red contacts to get that perfect vampiric look.
You of course looked hot as hell, dressed in a flowy, but scandalously low cut white dress, hair curled and bouncy. Bram Stoker had never named Dracula’s Brides, but there was one, seemingly the eldest, that he favored over the other, so you decided to claim her role for the night.
“I don’t see Janey yet, she said she was already here.” You yell over the music, throwing a smile to one of your sisters as she passes by with her date. They’re dressed like Jim and Pam from The Office, it’s cute, a bit basic, but cute.
“Maybe she’s at the bar?” Miguel suggests leaning down to hear you better as he guides you through the crowd.
You can see people’s eyes on him, drinking him in, and feel another stab of jealousy. You know he looks hot, but he’s your date, not theirs. They can keep their eyes to themselves.
Janey and her date Eddie are dressed like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcey. You spot them immediately, right at the bar where Miguel suggested they might be.
You gush over Janey’s outfit, and she gushes over yours, and for a while that’s it. It’s a nice night, you drink, have fun with your friends, dance with Miguel, try not to feel insane over the number of times you have to remind someone that Miguel is here with you, and generally have a good time.
Then someone starts crying. It’s a new member, one whose Big is currently more interested in making out with her boyfriend in one of the bar’s booths than paying attention to her Little.
The new member, Addy, has tears in her eyes and mascara running down her cheeks as you usher her towards the bathroom, promising Miguel you’ll be back as soon as someone is able to break Danika away from her boyfriend.
You dry Addy’s tears while she tells you that she’s just so overwhelmed. That she brought the guy she has a crush on with her, but he seems more interested in one of the other girls in her new member class than her.
“And then Kaley said, ‘oh we have a class together, I was just saying hi,’ but like why don’t you just say hi then leave, why is she trying to dance with him?” Addy sobs, taking the paper towels from your hands and burying her face in them.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice and that’s why he���s dancing with her.” You coo, smoothing down her hair.
“And her boobs look so much better than mine.” Addy continues, flinging herself into your arms, and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.
“What? No, no way, you look amazing! And hey, if that’s why he’s dancing with her than he’s an ass, and you deserve better.”
“She literally brought her own date, and she’s been ignoring him! Spencer is a nice guy, we had Intro to Philosophy together last semester, and he took really good notes, so he would let me borrow them when I missed something or got sick. And, and he’s like super cute, I don’t know why she wouldn’t just stay with him.”
You bite your tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you should go talk with Spencer then, if your date is going to be an asshole, then there’s nothing wrong with talking to someone who isn’t. You don’t even have to dance with him, just go say hi. I bet he’s feeling the same way you are.”
Addy sniffles and nods, wiping away the last of her tears. “Yeah, Spencer has a really big heart, I’m sure he’s upset.”
You give her an encouraging smile and keep your hand on her upper back, supporting her as she walks past her date, who is very clearly staring at Kaley’s boobs.
Spencer pops his head up when he sees Addy, a smile spreading across his lips. “Hey Addy, you doing okay? I um…I saw you crying, I wanted to go over, but…”
“I’m okay, how about you? We’re kinda in the same boat, aren’t we?” She says, taking the seat next to him.
He scoots over so she has more room, his head dipping down to hear her better, his body language screaming I like you; I feel safe with you. It’s adorable, you feel like Cupid, as you watch the two immediately fall into a deep discussion about emotions and the philosophy behind them.
Now that Addy was taken care of, you roll your shoulders out and stop at the bar before heading back towards the dance floor. You don’t really know how it happened but two shots later and everything you’ve been drinking the whole night is finally catching up with you.
The only thing on your mind is Miguel, how much you adore him, how handsome he looks, how every fake bitch in this room has been eyeing him like a hyena eyes a wounded gazelle. You have to find him; you can’t leave your wounded gazelle all alone in this pack of jackals.
You find him, but he’s not alone. Your sister, though not one you particularly care for, is talking to him, well, trying to at least.
Dana is dressed pretty basic, red dress, and heels. You’re not sure who she’s supposed to be, and she doesn’t look bad, but the dress is too small, it doesn’t fit her right, and the color makes her skin look washed out.
“So, who are you with?” Dana shouts over the music, clearly unable to see you as you approach from the side, basically hidden by the other dancers.
“Y/N.” Miguel answers, eyes darting back to the bathroom entrance, your drink still in his hand, his discarded somewhere.
Poor thing, he didn’t see you leave.
“She left you all alone? That’s so mean.” Dana says, giving him an overexaggerated pout.
“She went to take care of a new member.” He says, always so quick to defend you.
She trails a finger down his chest, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Still, she shouldn’t leave a handsome thing like you alone.”
Miguel goes red, taking a step back, sputtering. “I—um, thank you, but I’m here with y/n, and—”
“Yeah, but y/n’s not here now, come on, live a little.” She takes your drink from Miguel’s hand. “This yours?”
Before he can say anything, she drains it, and smiles at him.
“That uh…that wasn’t mine.” Miguel says, taking another step back as she loops her arms around his neck and tries to pull him down to her level.
“Oh, too bad, and it looks like y/n still isn’t back, obviously you’re not that important to her, so why don’t you follow me upstairs?”
“Upstairs is blocked off.” Miguel says, so sweet, so oblivious. “And I’m waiting for y/n.”
He tries to gently push Dana away, but she hangs on. “Ugh, come on, y/n is so lame, don’t you want to have fun? You can have fun with me.”
You’ve had enough, blood boiling, you tap her on the shoulder, making both her and Miguel jump.
“Dana, your date is looking for you.” You say, saccharine sweet smile on your lips, your voice dripping with honey coated venom.
She untangles herself from Miguel, who looks like you caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ugh, he’s so needy. Anyways, come find me if you need me, Miguel.”
The moment she leaves, Miguel turns to you, apologies spilling from his lips like water. “Y/N, I swear nothing happened, she just came up to me, and I told her I was here with you, but she kept going, and then she wanted me to go upstairs with her, and I told her upstairs is closed, and I was waiting for you and—”
You grab him by the neck of his costume and drag him off the dance floor, past the pitiful sign that asks people to stay away from the second floor, and up the stairs. Usually, the upper floor is open to the public. It’s a more secluded seating area with its own smaller bar and thick glass walls that block out some of the sound from below, bisected by cement pillars offering a modicum of privacy.
You’re tired of this, of watching everyone else get to grab him, touch him, flirt with him, he’s yours.
It’s darker on the second level, only a few safety lights, and the multicolored strobe lights flashing up from the first floor. It’s quieter as well, you can finally hear yourself think.
You keep walking until you find the corner booth and shove Miguel into it. Not for the first time you’re glad these damn booths are so big, Miguel can sit properly, facing you, without having to scrunch up. The alcohol in your system is making you brave, and a little horny, but mostly brave. You can see its effects on Miguel as well, the flush of his cheeks, the slight glaze in his eyes.
“Dulzura, please, don’t be upset, I promise, nothing happened, I wouldn’t—I’m here with you, and I know that we’re here as—as friends, but still, I wouldn’t…I didn’t—still don’t want to dance or spend time with anyone else.”
He looks so pretty, stumbling over his words, his hair all ruffled, his tone so sweet and pleading. You want him, bad. You know you shouldn’t. You were the one who said it was platonic, just friends, but when he’s here, looking the way he does, and everyone is circling around him like vultures, you just…
Fuck it.
You straddle him, grab his face, and kiss him.
Miguel short circuits, hands frozen in midair, body tense, and then it’s like a dam opens. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer, his lips moving in synchronicity with yours, warm, plush, the taste of tequila on his tongue, or maybe it’s yours, you can’t tell anymore. You’re practically devouring him with how desperate you are to finally, finally kiss him.
“Fuck, Miguel, I—I can’t be just friends with you, I can’t do it anymore.” You admit, breath catching in your throat when Miguel grabs your ass, his big warm hands hauling you even closer. “I need more, we have to be more.”
“We can be anything, anything you want.” Miguel says breathlessly, his glasses fogging up from the heat between you.
You tug his head back by his hair and attach your lips to his neck, biting down hard, intent on leaving your mark. “Don’t want other girls thinking you’re up for grabs, you’re mine, been mine since the first day of class.”
“Yes, yes, I’m yours y/n.” He whimpers, his hands caressing your body nonsensically, as if he can’t decide where to put them.
“Such a good boy for me, Miguel, looking so handsome, always so sweet, always saying just the right thing.” You continue your onslaught until his neck looks like a crime scene.
“Kiss me, please y/n, I need—please, please, I’ve wanted this for so long, please kiss me again.” Miguel begs breathlessly, looking absolutely wrecked.
So, you do, gladly, over, and over, and over again, until he builds the courage to tangle his hands in your hair, to venture under your skirt and grip your bare thighs, as he moans and squirms beneath you.
You can’t fuck him here, it’s too public, too rushed, especially knowing what you know, there’s no way in hell you’ll let Miguel’s first time be a drunken quickie at a bar. So, you pull back, cupping his cheeks, smiling softly when he whines and tries to chase after your lips.
You press your thumb to his lips, shaking your head. “We can’t, not here.”
“Why not?” He whines, pupils blown wide with lust, chest rising and falling rapidly, his grip brushing on your thigh and hip.
“Because I like you, and I respect you, so I won’t fuck you in a bar.” You tell him, pressing a chaste kiss to his kiss swollen lips before sliding from his lap.
Miguel pouts, actually pouts at you, and you nearly give in, but you steel yourself.
“Come on sweet boy, let’s go back to the party.”
He blinks at you as if he’s coming up from underwater, slow, liquid, then he bites his lip. “I um…I’m going to need a minute.”
You glance down and heat rushes to your face.
He’s hard, and huge, like massive, and your resolve starts to waver.
“What if I just?” You sit astride his lap and ghost your fingers over his covered cock. “Give you a hand?”
Nerd!Miguel Masterlist and the "part two" here
TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425
#meg's writing#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#nerd miguel#nerd!miguel#nerd!miguel o'hara#college!miguel#college!reader#college au#that picture is so slutty and I want to just NMFGNVNSABVL
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Ahhhhh omg ty for writing my request of Pornstar!Miguel x Pornstar!Reader it was so cute and sooooo great <33 I loved it very much !!
IDK if you wanted to write a part 2 for it, but since you ended it off like you did, I was wondering what would happen when they meet outside. I kind of want to see a Jealous!Reader who gets jealous seeing Miguel work with someone else for a shoot cuz it looks like he’s having a great time with his co-star. But Reader takes him back to her place and gives him the night of his life? I appreciate a Dom!Miguel, but I was wondering if the roles can be reversed this time with a Dom!Reader? Not necessarily a Sub!Miguel but like more body worship and Reader trying to prove that she’s the only one for him. Get him pussy drunk >< Thank you again, and I hope the holidays don’t get too hectic for you ;-;
Ty & you're welcome!! I'm glad you liked the first request!!! I hope you enjoy this one too!
PT 1
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, riding, overstimulation, creampie
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a few weeks since you and Miguel started working together. The chemistry the two of you shared was nothing you ever felt before. Honestly, you might even call this love. You weren't quite sure, especially since the type of work you did made you question the concept.
But sure enough, Miguel gave you reason to believe. Every time the two of you shared a screen, you had to compose yourself and remember that everyone thought you were acting. Hell, they were fully convinced that you were a star.
You were good, that much was true. The only time you could let yourself go and be free was when you and Miguel met at either his place or yours. Miguel was absolutely destroy you, making you question if sex work was the kind of job you were good at.
Sex was different with him. Everything was different with him. Part of you wanted to tell Miguel that you wanted to quit working as a Pornstar and just be a normal couple with him, but you were scared. Part of you wondered if Miguel even liked you back. If he even shared the same feelings that you did.
"(Y/N)!" Miguel called out, waving towards you. You hurried to his side, nuzzling your head into his chest to hide from the cold,
"Gosh! I didn't expect it to be this windy today."
"Yep," Miguel wrapped his arm around you, keeping you sheltered from the wind, "Before we get to our movie, I want to tell you something. I got a gig with another person. My manager told me to take it, b-"
"I understand, it's the job." You forced a smile, resting your head against him, "As long as we still have these moments to ourselves, I don't...mind"
---------
Oh you gave so much shits.
Literally the next day, you went to work and couldn't help but poke your head into Miguel's studio. There were butterflies in your stomach. This was a bad idea, but you were curious. You wanted to know who dared tried to steal your man er, partner, no, coworker. Yes, coworker!
You felt your heart sink as you watched Miguel smile towards your competition. Of course, it had to be your rival. The two started to shoot and it just kept getting worse for you. Miguel looked like he was enjoying himself with her.
Unable to watch as your rival started her horrible moans, you hurried home. You claimed that you were sick.
---------
Miguel stepped out of the shower after his shoot, sighing softly. He glanced at his phone, seeing a message from your manager. Miguel furrowed his brows as he read that you went home. Sick? You always gloated that you never got sick.
"Wow, Miguel, that was amazing. You know, I think we make a pretty good team. Why don't we-"
"No," Miguel said as he quickly finished to get dressed,
"Awe, don't be so mean~ How about I take you out on a date?"
"No. Got me a girlfriend," Miguel said firmly, packing his bag. Your rival just huffed,
"And she's okay with your job? She's okay with you fucking another beautiful woman?"
That was it. Miguel felt a light bulb appear above his head as he hurried out of the shower room. Leaving for the day, Miguel stepped out of the building and saw you in your car. He approached, wondering what you were doing.
"Get in," You huffed, rolling down the window.
"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked, sitting down. You started to drive to your place,
"Yes." You lied.
Miguel smiled softly towards you, enjoying your cute jealously. He went to reach for your hair, playing with it as you drove.
--------
You were mad. Once you entered your apartment, you pushed Miguel onto the wall and started kissing him. You didn't want Miguel to enjoy working with other women. You want him to want you only. Who cares about what your managers wanted!
Pushing Miguel onto your couch, you sat on his lap and started to furiously grind against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss. Miguel just held your waist, moving his hips along yours.
Gosh, if you weren't taking charge of this, you'd let him fuck you dumb right now. Feeling the friction starting to hurt, you quickly took off your skirt and panties. Miguel helped with your shirt, before you returned to his throbbing dick.
Taking off his pants and boxers, you grabbed his dick and started to stroke it. You were going to have Miguel burn this night into his memory. Have him remember that you are the only one for him. Hopefully he thought that.
Sucking against his tip, you moaned lowly as you played with yourself. Miguel's dick was far too big for you to take in your mouth. You tried several times. You whimpered, trying to take more of him in as you stroked his dick faster.
"(Y/N), don't....force yourself," Miguel groaned lowly, gripping onto your hair.
You muffled in protest, causing Miguel to moan. With one more lick, you watched Miguel twitch, ready to burst. Precum already dripping from his dick. You resisted a chuckle, unable to hold out much longer either.
It was funny how good the two of you were when working, but when it came to being at home? Oh, you both let yourselves loose and gave into the lust.
"I hope you're ready for a long night," You told him.
You whimpered, moaning lowly as you slowly sat on his cock. No matter how many times you fucked, his dick would always stretch you out and fill you. You almost cam on the spot. Resisting a moan, you started to bounce against his dick.
The sheer size of him was going to make you tap out for the night. Your pussy kept sucking him in while his dick twitched inside of you. The sounds of his moans were turning you on more. Resting your head against his shoulder, you whimpered a moan as you cam hard.
Miguel was not long to follow. His tight grip against your waist made you weak in the knees. You kept bouncing on his dick, becoming a slightly moaning mess as he filled you. This wasn't enough. You weren't going to let him go so easily.
"Let me take over, (Y/n)." Miguel whispered, kissing your neck. You gently pushed him back onto the couch,
"N-No! I'm taking control tonight and...I'm not going to let you rest until you learn your lesson." You huffed. Miguel just chuckled, cupping you breasts,
"Very well. I'll just ruin your pussy by sitting still."
You moaned lowly as you began to shake. Your vision was blurring as you felt your burning knot about to burst again. Your gummy walls squeezing the life out of his dick, making your mind hazy. With another bounce, you cried out as his dick rubbed against you g-spot, causing you to orgasm.
"Such a beautiful sight," Miguel hummed. You were breathing heavily, unsure how much longer you could keep going,
"Not...yet."
Eventually, you gave Miguel permission to move you to the bed. He laid down, moaning and groaning to your uncontrollable lust. You were milking him dry. Bouncing against his dick as if him cumming inside you four times wasn't enough.
Miguel was breathing heavily now as he watched you cry out from overstimulation. You were struggling to fuck him, probably because your legs gave out. Sitting up, Miguel swapped positions, pressing you against the bed,
"(Y/N), you're so fucking beautiful. Of course I know that his pussy is mine and mine alone. Think I don't get jealous thinking about all the men who had a taste of you?" Miguel groaned into your ear, snapping his hips into yours.
"A-Ah~ M-Miggy~" You whined, feeling weak. Miguel grunted and moaned as he fucked you roughly,
"You're mine. Only I get to enjoy this pussy like this. Only I can have you like this."
"I...I'm going to quit..." You admitted, squirming as you felt another orgasm coming, "I-I only want you!"
"Then I suppose I'll have to quit too,"
Miguel pulled you into a kiss, shaking as the two of you cummed together. Miguel groaned as he pulled out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. He pulled you beside him, nuzzling his head into your neck,
"You did well...I'm exhausted." He muttered. You rolled on top of him, smirking as you slid his dick into you again,
"I said I...was t-taking over for the night. I'm n-not stopping until you get drunk off me."
Miguel just chuckled weakly in response, already pussy drunk. He held your hips, watching you cry out in pleasure. Perhaps you were just trying to get pregnant, but whatever the reason, Miguel gave you want you wanted.
-------
You both had a goddamn good reason to call out the next day.
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Hope you enjoyed~
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#miguel ohara smut
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Baby Blue
Leon Kennedy x reader
Summary: Leon comes home to his princess, but she needs to be punished. Good princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, so daddy must fuck her ass instead.
Tags: DDLG, smut, daddy kink, breeding kink, reader is a little, funishment not punishment, anal, squirting, pussy neglect, true princesses name their plushies, I’m sorry this is feral
Word Count: 2.6k
Ao3 cross post
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Leon’s drive home was filled with overwhelming thoughts of you. He was able to get out of the office early, and all he could think about was rushing home to you. To his princess. He found a sense of stability in being your daddy and being able to protect you. When he couldn’t manage to protect everyone, he knew he would always protect you. It helped ground him and give him a very controlled responsibility, and you loved it just the same. You loved letting yourself be nurtured. With such glossy, round eyes as yours he really couldn’t let anybody else have you. You were gorgeous and you could only be his.
When he got home, Leon found you in the living room curled on the couch. He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him when you rushed forward to meet him. Leon could feel the swell of your breasts and your hands squished against his chest as he looked down at you. There were your big round puppy eyes again, looking up at him, begging. Begging for what? Noticing the gentle way you squished your thighs together gave him a pretty good answer as to what you were begging so quietly for.
“I’m home princess,” Leon pressed several kisses all over your face, stopping at your forehead. “Is there something my princess needs?”
“Daddy’s attention! I missed you!”
You were a needy girl, needless to say. You tried to feign innocence when you clearly knew how to push Leon. Pressing your tits against him when you grabbed his arm, or “readjusting” constantly when sitting on his lap. From choosing a revealing top or a fitted dress, the constant teasing never ended. Even through the frills and bows adorning you, you always looked at him the exact same way. With round puppy eyes begging to be taken. It’s the part you enjoyed the most, honestly. Feigning innocence just for Leon to corrupt you bit by bit. To take his princess and watch her tear-covered cheeks as she takes his cock into her throat. To teach her what it means to be pleasured. It’s not like you didn’t know, but you loved to play the part. It was natural. To be his little princess who couldn’t possibly be dirty enough to think about wanting sex.
Leon kissed your forehead again. “What did you do today, princess?”
You bit your lip, tasting the strawberry gloss you had applied earlier. “Mm, I got home from work and, and I took a nap with Capt’n.” Captain was the shark plushie that you adored. Captain could always protect you while Leon was gone. “I also colored for daddy.”
“Good girl, show me what you colored for daddy.” Leon watched as you grabbed the coloring pages you had left on the living room table. They were pages of Sanrio characters, specifically Cinnamoroll.
“Remember Cinnamoroll, daddy?” You began to chat away, talking about all sorts of fun facts of the dog.
“Yeah, princess?” Leon listened and refilled your sippy cup with apple juice.
The ddlg lifestyle was quickly adopted once the both of you had opened up about it. It was a bit obvious in hindsight through the nurturing role Leon chose to take, and how little you were sometimes. Frills and bows seemed to follow you everywhere, glitter pens were always around, and baby blue was your signature color. The lifestyle also caught up in small actions. Not only did Leon open the car door for you, but he also took the time to buckle you in. Feeling his large presence reach around you to buckle you in made your feel all sorts of safe. Kisses on the forehead were endless, tying your shoes was a given, and nicknames too. Pacifiers became the norm, and you used sippy cups instead of “grown” cups. The plushie population was duplicating in size and needed a net to be kept in the top corner of the room. Smaller snacks like animal crackers, cookies, or gummies were carried with you everywhere, and Leon loved to steal them from you too. You let yourself indulge in cute accessories day to day. Keychains, stickers, glitter pens, cute notebooks, hair bows, the list continued. But your favorite part of it all were Daddy’s rules. In a sheet on the fridge you had written them out with numerous glitter pens and highlighter colors.
୨୧ Bedtime of 11pm.
୨୧ No swearing as a little.
୨୧ Always obey daddy.
୨୧ Use your manners.
୨୧ Compliment yourself every morning.
“Princess it’s getting late, we’ve got to get you to bed,” Leon reminded you, handing you your apple juice. “We need to clean up your mess,” he gestured at the crayons and snacks around your coloring book on the table.
You pouted, grabbing the sippy cup Leon was handing to you. “Can’t we leave it to tomorrow, daddy?”
“No buts, princess. We can’t leave a mess,” Leon kissed your forehead again, patiently waiting to help you pick up your coloring materials.
You looked him in the eye, “No.”
“What was that?” Leon grabbed your chin. He didn’t like when his princess disobeyed, but he smiled knowing you would have to be punished.
“I said no.”
“My my, such big words for my little girl. That just won’t do. Disobeying daddy means punishment, princess. Pick up your mess. Now.” Leon said firmly.
Your plan failed. He didn’t bite the bait. Or so you thought. Leon was considering all the “punishments” he could do to you as he watched you from the doorway. This was a major offense; disobeying daddy without a good reason. It was a critical rule. He watched as you groaned and put your crayons and coloring book away into their designated spot. You grabbed Captain off of the couch and trailed behind Leon into the bedroom. He kept his hand on the small of your back as the both of you stepped in, the covers a little out of place from the nap you had taken earlier.
You chatted away as Leon chose the pajamas you would wear to bed, and helped take your makeup off.
“Your eyeliner is really good today, princess,” Leon noticed as he gently wiped it away.
You beamed under him, allowing him to wipe your face clean. He kept noticing the way you squirmed and squeezed your thighs together. You were more restless than normal.
“What do you need, princess?”
You stopped squirming and looked up at Leon. To be honest, you wanted to be fucked. But you didn’t want to be so blunt. You tried to give all the signals, truly! But he wasn’t getting it.
“You.” You looked at him with your doe eyes again. Can’t he take the hint?
“Princesses don’t get rewards for disobeying,” Leon chided, but his own body was fighting against him. The bulge in his pants was getting harder to hide, but he wasn’t to blame. You really were so soft under him, your body pliant to his tight grip. He wanted to kiss you and eat you whole, glitter and all. His hands trailed down to your ass and squeezed, but he noticed a certain bump. You had a butt plug in. My my, does this change plans.
“Bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked.” Leon continued, squeezing your ass again. You moaned quietly, clinging onto Leon’s chest as he played with you. The disappointment finally settled in. No matter how much you teased, he really wouldn’t fuck you tonight for disobeying.
“Since bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, I guess I’ll just have to fuck your ass.” Leon said before he pulled your shorts down to squeeze your ass again, his hands trailing to the butt plug you had in.
You gasped at the sudden motion, but smiled so big at him, “Really daddy?”
He kissed you softly as he played with your butt plug. Thrusting it in and out slowly, working you open with the lube you had previously. Your knees were going weak at the pleasure and you threw your hands around Leon’s neck to stay upright.
“I’ve got you princess,” Leon cooed as he felt your hole relax around the plug. He continued to work your open, feeling you thrust back onto the plug. You let your head fell into Leon’s shoulder, feeling him pepper kisses on your head as he stared at your round ass below.
“Such a pretty princess,” Leon cooed again. The strain of his bulge against his pants reminded him of his own need, but he had to make sure you were well prepared first.
A few kisses later and you were on the bed, pajamas thrown to the side. Leon’s body loomed over you, hand on your hip and the other supporting him on the bed. It didn’t take long for your kisses to turn more desperate and heated, your own teeth nibbling against Leon’s bottom lip.
“Daddy,” you whined, throwing your arms around his neck again.
Leon shushed you with more kisses and gently pushed your back onto the bed. Once he pulled away, he took the time to really take you in. Staring up at him with doe eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. You were the finest painting he has ever seen. Your hair was splayed out like a halo onto the bed, and he decided he needed to have you at that moment. He reached forward and flipped you over onto your stomach in one swift move. He made sure to grab Captain and gave him to you so you had something to hug while he fucked you.
Gentle fingers trailed down your spine, slowly taking in the curve of your ass. He spread your cheeks to see your little pink hole, stuffed with the plug and leaking with lube. He slowly pulled it out not without noticing the way your hole twitched at its absence. You turned your head to look back at him, his gaze fixed on your body. Leon’s hair covered half of his face, but the deep groan he let out was a clear sign on how he was feeling. He needed to stuff you. Needed to feel you take him whole and cry out for him. Daddy needed to take care of his princess.
“Are you ready for your punishment, princess?” Leon kneaded your ass all while his gaze remained transfixed on your hole. The urge was clawing him from the inside out. He was going to stuff you.
His briskly took his clothes off to finally have his leaking tip pushing at the tight bundle of nerves. You waited with baited breath as he slid his cock between your cheeks, teasing you.
“I want you inside, daddy,” you whispered, staring at him with your begging puppy eyes again. Fuck. You were going to be the death of him.
He finally pushed his cock inside, taking in the sensation as he filled you to the brim. Your breath quickened and you let out a deep moan at being stretched and full. You felt whole. Leon watched you stuff your face into Captain, watched the rise and fall of your back, as he stayed still inside. Rubbing small circles onto your back to help you relax. The urge to fuck into you like an animal was bubbling just under the surface, but he withheld. He had to take care of his princess. He needed you to feel comforted, safe, and pleased.
It didn’t take long before he finally felt your body relax around him and he began to slowly thrust. His pace was so slow, but it was so overwhelming you wanted to cry. You loved the way Daddy stretched you so full it was tipping on the edge of pain, and you wanted more. Leon moved so slowly and gently, working you open with his cock. He watched the way your body trembled under his touch, giving into his ministrations. You molded around his cock perfectly as if you were made for him. Made to be stuffed by daddy’s cock.
“Daddy,” you whined into Captain.
Fuck. Calling him daddy like that did something to him.
“I know baby, I know. Let daddy take care of you.” Leon continued his slow pace. Your mind went blank at the sensation, squeezing your eyes shut from the pleasure. It was too much. If he fucked into you any faster you were sure you would break. But he didn’t, he held himself back knowing you were struggling to take him. So he was slow, grinding into your heat, feeling the lube leak onto your thighs.
A few thrusts later and the begging began. You wanted more —no, needed more. And Leon was right behind you. Baby. His baby. Stuff his little girl until she was full. He couldn’t stop looking at how your small hole took him so nicely, seeing you take the sheer size of him. He pressed his body lower and kissed the junction of your shoulder before he finally quickened his pace.
You cried from pleasure, clinging onto Captain as you felt Leon’s balls slap against your weeping cunt’s entrance. It felt neglected while your ass was being fucked into instead. It was so lewd listening to the wetness of your asshole being fucked, squelching around Leon’s cock.
You were doing such a good job, squeezing around Leon relentlessly and taking him whole. He groaned at the sensation, his orgasm creeping up behind him so soon. It was like his body was moving on its own by caving into the need of fucking into you; feeling your hot walls squeeze around him. It felt so good you couldn’t imagine stopping. His cock working you open, only for him to pull out and watch you gape around his absence.
“What a filthy little princess. Needing her ass fucked for being a bad, bad girl.” Leon watched with bated breath as your asshole twitched around nothing, his cock aching to stuff you again.
“Daddy,” you cried, aching to be filled again. You shook your ass, trying to get him to fuck into you again. “Please fuck me!”
You cried as he finally pushed his fat tip past the tight bundle of nerves, groaning as he bottomed out inside of you. He really was going to rearrange your guts.
It felt so shameful to like having your asshole fucked instead of your cunt. It was dripping wet, begging to be fucked into instead of your ass, but this was your punishment. Only good girls deserve to have their cunt used, and tonight he was going to breed your ass and watch the cum drip down onto your cunt instead.
So he continued to fuck into you, your cries only pushing him to fuck into you longer.
“Poor baby, you want your cunt fucked into don’t you?”
You cried into Captain, the pleasure overwhelming. Your body started to twitch and you felt the sudden wetness gush between your thighs. Leon held onto you as your squirt continued to gush with every thrust. Too much. Too much, you can’t. You lay beneath him, trembling and crying. Babbling about how you couldn’t stop, can’t imagine stopping, you needed more. Leon listened, feeling you squeeze around him was finally pushing him over the edge.
“I’m gonna stuff you so full baby, can you take it? Take daddy’s cock? Yeah?” Leon groaned as he gripped your hips, snapping his own flush against yours. Yeah, he was going to stuff you.
His own orgasm chased after yours, finally filling you. You trembled at the sensation of Leon finally pulling away only to watch his cum dribble down onto your weeping cunt. It didn’t take him long to notice the puddle of squirt you had made on the bed too. What a sight, his princess had taken him so well.
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I think a prerequisite to understanding Durge and Gortash is understanding the movie Midsommar and its ending. Or rather, how people get lured into cults. It's probably weird to some, but people do incredibly fucked up shit as long as they're lonely enough. As long as they are starved of enough affection.
These guys were completely isolated. One murdered everyone they ever knew without meaning to, only to be snatched up by the person that would manipulate them, and the other one was rejected and discarded by everyone they loved before his brain could even develop properly. They were alone. The entire fucking world rejected them. Nobody batted an eye when they were suffering far beyond what anyone should have to go through. Everyone that mattered to them disappeared in the blink of an eye. At least Gortash certainly spent years like that, for Durge it's implied but tbf the initial event alone would've been traumatic enough.
And then, eventually, when they were at complete rock bottom, after suffering so much, so long, someone came along and offered them acceptance. Offered them affection, offered them the chance to belong somewhere. To have a place to be, a role to play. To be someone. To find people with the same mindset. To find people to admire and to be admired by. They were offered an escape from the overwhelming loneliness and grief. They were offered to be accepted for once.
People will ruin themselves to fit in or to gain the love of another. And they did just that. They blindly ran into the knife because they were promised to belong for once. Because of the simple promise they wouldn't be rejected.
It doesn't rectify what they did, but gods is it understandable that they did what they did. People have done worse for less. They are vile. They're monsters. They're horrible beings. But they were conditioned into it. They were manipulated to such a frightening degree that they willingly chose to follow masters who would torment them even after death, knowing what they were getting into, but still choosing it just to escape the fucking loneliness. They gave themselves up just to belong. They certainly are to blame, but so are the people who's sins they've inherited.
And just to be clear, that's also the major difference between Karlach and Gortash. Karlach initially grew up being somewhere, being accepted, being loved. Yes, she, too, was betrayed and sold, but she was an adult when it happened. She knew love. She knew what it was like. She could rely on that glimmer of a hope that the world didn't outright despise her. Gortash didn't. He was sold as a fucking child. He never knew. He didn't have the resources. He was just fucking desperate and already broken and crushed in ways you could never break Karlach. She had loving parents. Gortash's mother wished she would've killed him before he was even born. Karlach was loved once, Gortash has ever since been told the world would've been a better place if he simply didn't exist.
Also, congratulations, this makes durgetash so much more painful to think about. Cuz they were willing to reject whatever helped them survive for the affection of one another.
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter ten of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 6K
Warnings: References to sex, Kind of depressing, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, this one is really sad y'all, like REALLY sad, I'm serious this one is really sad.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
**********************************************
1980
“Ben, stop.” You shout.
“Move damn it!” Ben’s eyes blaze a dark green sending a tremor down your spine, but you don’t budge.
“No.”
“Get the fuck out of my way.” He snarls louder.
You stand defiantly in front of him, where he towers over you, eyes narrowed, and shoulders tensed. His broad shoulders block the fluorescent lights that hang overhead and illuminate the gym, dramatizing his imposing figure.
“I’m not going to. So you’re either going to have to move me yourself or you can go cool off.” Your retort your voice icy.
The heat from Ben’s anger vibrated through the air between you, but you weren’t going to move. Not when he was being ridiculous.
Noir was angry, angry that Ben took a movie role that he wanted. In hindsight you also thought it was ridiculous that Ben needed to star in all the movies. He was already America’s First Superhero and the Golden Boy and America’s Sweetheart, but it wasn't enough for him for some reason. You often thought his obsession with fame had something to do with his dad. Ben had a lot of problems when it came to his father, all of which made Ben compensate other ways, such as, feeling the need to be in charge, feeling the need to be loved and accepted by others he didn’t know, being unable to express his emotions, and the current problem which was feeling the need to claim the dominant role as most popular superhero.
Aka when he turned into Captain Toxic Masculinity.
Honestly, you were exhausted. All of this was exhausting. Ben was exhausting. As someone who’d loved him this long you couldn’t help but see the shift from the boy you used to know into something unrecognizable. Occasionally you could see Ben, the old Ben, your Ben, who laughed with you, but those moments were few and certainly didn’t happen in public.
You shoulders tense with the force of your own anger and frustration, standing tall between Ben and Noir who lays on the ground behind you. Noir hadn't made an effort to get up, still stunned from the blows he took from Ben. The first few punches you hadn’t stopped, but it was when Ben felt the need to continue despite Noir’s pleas to stop that you had to step in.
You didn’t know where that came from, Ben’s need to beat people who were conceding. When he was younger you'd seen Ben get in a fight before, but those few times he hadn't continued to beat the other person when they gave up. The smell of whiskey and reefer floats off his clothes and you wonder how much he’s had to drink. Ben had two moods when he was drunk angry or clingy, and right now the anger was winning. You could hear the mad pump of his blood through his body and you wonder what else he might have taken today.
Because whiskey and reefer isn't enough? If he wasn't so damn indestructible he'd probably be dead from overdose.
Ben’s lip is curled back in a sneer, eyes flashing from where Noir lays on the ground then back to you. You know that he's ten seconds away from ripping Noir in half, and that's why you don't move. Noir didn't deserve that.
The way Ben's eyes burn through the space between you is hauntingly familiar as the memory of the night you hid Ben from his father settled over your mind. You fight the shudder at the comparison.
Ben wasn’t anything like his father. The thought is immediate, but then the memory of the past forty years begins to settle over your mind. Or maybe he was.
“Fucking pussy. Having a woman stand up for you.” Ben snaps at Noir.
Ben leans around you to spit at him, then raises his gaze back to you one more time before he stomps off, slamming the door of the gym so hard that it breaks the glass.
You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Everyone on Payback was watching you like you were crazy and you partly were. Getting in between Ben and someone else was beyond stupid. It wasn’t the first time, but you knew that you were the only person that could do it. If Countess or Gunpowder had stepped in Ben would not have relented. It had to be you. It always had to be you.
And you hated the weight of that burden on your shoulders.
You turn towards Noir, holding out a hand to help him up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He sighs taking it . “You didn’t have to do that.”
“He’s just being… well. Him.” You mutter.
You hated that this was the new harsh reality, the new Ben that was born when he took the serum and became America’s First Superhero.
“It was incredibly stupid.” Countess sniffs from where she stands with the TNT Twins. Gunpowder is leaning back against the outer ring with Mindstorm who stares unblinkingly at you.
“Well, guess I took a page out of your book then.” You say, narrowing your eyes at her.
You couldn’t stand her. Ever since she joined Payback all she’d done was try to catch Ben’s eye and get between the two of you, but he never gave her the time of day. She had quickly won the favor of everyone else on Payback, which only made you even more angry because it always seemed like you were the odd one out wherever you went.
Countess only sneers back in response, flipping her red hair over her shoulders. Despite Ben's exit the tension in the room is almost choking. Your so-called team was watching you with unreadable expressions and you suddenly got the impression that you were trespassing or interrupting. It had happened before, when you came to a training session early and you walked in on the rest of the team, sans Ben, talking in hushed tones and they immediately broke apart when you appeared.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the fact you stood between Ben and Noir, the rest of the team still didn’t like having you there. Probably because they associated you with Ben. It made you uneasy.
Because despite Stan’s efforts to keep you all together Ben's continuous outbursts drove you all further and further apart. And you worried what would happen the day when the shoe finally dropped.
*************************************
One look at the clock on your wall showed that it was almost one in the morning, but you weren't tired. All you could think about is what almost happened to Noir. It wasn't that you particularly liked anyone on Payback other than Ben, honestly the whole superhero thing was getting tedious and you had considered more than once getting out.
But you couldn't. Sometimes you felt responsible for Ben, like you were the only thing keeping him on the straight and narrow. Of course every single damn day that road was getting narrower and narrower and now it was more like a balance beam than a two way street.
Ben's new outlook on life that revolved around drugs, women, more drugs, and more women didn't make it easier.
You frown at your sketchpad remembering when Ben founded Herogasm. You'd gone the first time, regretted walking through the door, stayed ten minutes, and then left.
Sex without feelings never appealed to you, but that wasn't why you left, it was watching Ben with other women that hurt you. You could barely get through it when he mentioned something in passing, but watching him there with them made you uncontrollably angry and not to mention frustrated. You didn't understand him, couldn't understand why Ben was different around you. Didn't know why whenever you were alone he would give you hope, just to take it all away again.
How could so much change? How could everything go to shit so quickly?
You think of all the years that followed the night that Ben asked you to come with him, how you thought that Ben was telling you that he loved you in his own way. But he didn’t. You were realizing that now, as painful as it was to admit to yourself, Ben only saw you as a friend, would only ever see you as a friend.
When you decided to come with him you thought that the change would be your friendship into something else, but it never came, the only thing that changed was Ben.
A loud banging at your door makes your entire apartment shudder and pulls you out of your memories of the past.
There's only one person who can do that.
Your home was a small two-bedroom apartment in New York City, but you loved it. It was quaint and comfortable and each time you came home you felt relaxed because you were able to shut out the life you lived everyday. The small kitchen was barely big enough for two people to stand in, but it made it more intimate and cozy. The living room had a soft leather couch, but no tv despite Ben’s complaints that you should get one. He hated that you couldn’t watch his films when he came over. You liked listening to music more anyway. Your collection of vinyl lined the living room wall in clean bookcases next to a small record player. The spare bedroom served as your studio, not that you were trying to sell your art, but because you needed a place to exist where you weren't a supe and where you weren't in love with Ben. There were stacks of sketchbooks in the studio closet from when you were a child, but you couldn't bear to get rid of them. Sometimes you imagined living here with Ben, cooking in the small kitchen while he read the newspaper, lounging on the couch and listening to music together, and falling asleep on his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you.
You sigh, pushing away the warmth of the thought, and wave your hand to telekinetically unlock the front door behind you. The familiar purple glow from your abilities fills the apartment. Ben had a key, but you figured he just wanted to make an entrance.
Always the drama queen.
“Got anything to drink?” He asks as he enters the living room.
You glance over the back of the couch to look at him. He's more casually dressed now, wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt the same color of his suit.
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d stop by, see if you’re still pissed.”
“As I recall it was you that was pissed.” You roll your eyes at him.
“Only because you were getting in my way Sweetheart” The way he says your nickname is harsh and mocking, so different than the way the old Ben used to say it. When it sounded genuine, caring, almost special.
“Because you were about to rip Noir apart!” You gesture with the pencil in your hand, snapping your sketchpad shut.
“That pussy deserved it. Thinking he was better than me. I’m fucking Soldier Boy and he’s nothing more than a-“ Ben scoffs rolling his eyes.
“Ben I can’t do this if you’re gonna be like this right now.” You interrupt pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingertips, still annoyed from earlier. You hated that he did that, when he made you feel like his babysitter, when he made you feel like you had to make apologies for him.
“Like what?”
“High, drunk, acting crazy-“
“I’m not acting fucking crazy!” He snaps.
“Ben-“ You begin with a sigh.
“Fine.” He spits. “We don’t have to fucking talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“Thank you.” You wave a hand haphazardly towards the kitchen. “There should be some whiskey in there somewhere. Though I don’t think you need anything else to drink.” Your nose wrinkles as you inhale, the smell of stale alcohol wafting back, followed by the unmistakable scent of perfume and sweat.
The super senses really sucked sometimes. Smelling the women that Ben had sex with was an unfortunate skill you had acquired.
“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes, but waits for a minute eyeing you. “You’re not going to get it for me?”
You ignore his sharp tone and turn back to your sketchpad. “Nope. I don’t want to enable you.”
Ben stomps into your kitchen. It's immediately followed by the loud banging of him searching the cabinets for booze.
He should know where it is, spends enough time here.
“If you break anything, you’re going to fix it.” You shout opening your sketchbook back to the page you were on. You were drawing the Philadelphia of your youth, the familiar streets, the cars, and the women dressed in beautiful outfits.
“My hands are better suited for other things Sweetheart.” You hear him mutter under his breath and you try not to snap your pencil in half. His taunt made you think about Herogasm and the scent of perfume on his skin, and that was the last thing you wanted to think about.
Ben comes back and slumps onto the couch beside you, a large whiskey gripped in his hand. He sighs loudly to get your attention when you don't look up from your drawing.
"Alright, what is it?” You ask continuing to draw.
"Nothing.” He grumbles drinking from his glass.
“Ben, I’ve known you for over fifty years I can tell when you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Well I doubt it’s over what you said or did to Noir today. So what is it? What are you not upset about?”
"I just thought it would be different." Ben swirls the glass in his hands.
"What?"
"Being on Payback."
"What do you mean?" You continue to sketch the shape of a woman walking down the streets.
"When I first started doing all this fucking superhero shit it was different. Felt like I was promoting something, now it kinda feels like I’m just here. And no one respects me.”
“They’re not going to respect you if you keep threatening them and beating up whoever pisses you off.” You mutter.
“They might.” He snaps.
They won't.
"Well the way things are going with Russia I’m sure there will be another war." You sigh, thinking about the recent newspaper headlines. Everything was devoted to the Cold War, everyone was afraid of what Russia was doing or what they were planning. Stan Edgar and Legend were talking about some Anti-Communist campaign videos and posters that they wanted you to pose for, but you weren't sure you wanted to.
"You think so?" He sounds optimistic.
"I’m not gonna hope for one, but probably. I get it though. You’re doing all those movies and premieres and photo shoots, it doesn't feel real."
It was exactly how you felt. You felt that all this supe shit was coming to a head and what did you have to show for it? A few pictures of you holding up a car or a painted caricature of you on the side of a jet or a short film with stupid prerecorded lines that made no sense and even more ridiculous outfits that Legend tried to get you to wear. When you got the serum with Ben you thought you’d be contributing something to society, but no. It was just like when you were a child, dressed up like a China doll, made to be looked at but never used.
"I like those movies."
"I’ve noticed." You breathe remembering earlier when Ben almost killed Noir over the movie role.
Noir technically started that, but Ben just took it way too far.
"What about you?"
The question catches you off guard. “What about me?”
"You haven’t done any movies lately. Legend said that you turned down a few films." Ben takes a swig from the glass in his hand.
"Aren’t you afraid that I’ll steal some of your thunder Soldier Boy?” Your taunt. “Because I already saw what you tried to do to Noir today. And I’d rather you not beat me to a pulp-“
“You’re not like Noir. You’re different.”
“Mhmm. Sure.” You sigh rolling your eyes at him.
Ben sits there for a minute. You can feel his gaze on you. “I’d never hurt you y/n.”
The softer cadence of his voice makes you pause your pencil against the page. You knew it was true. Even when Ben was pissed off it was the line he never crossed. Ben never touched you when he was angry, but it never made it any easier to deal with him.
“Hey.” Ben whispers to get your attention, but you continue to look down at your paper. “Look at me.” His thumb comes under you chin to lift your eyes to his.
“You know that right?” Ben’s gaze is soft, you hadn’t expected it to be given the way he entered you apartment and his sullen mood. “You know that I’d never hurt you?”
The look in his eyes makes your throat tight, makes you see the Ben you used to know, who promised to look out for you and who promised to be strong for the both of you. And it hurts more than you thought it would, because you weren't sure that boy was still there.
“Yeah. I know.” You nod, but you don’t smile. You knew it was what he wanted to hear. “You’ve been talking to Legend about me?” You say to make the warm feeling of his touch fade.
He shrugs satisfied with your response, the softness fading from his eyes as he drops his hand. “I was worried.”
You fold your legs up under you. “I don’t know, I didn't love any of the scripts. And I’ve been thinking about getting out. I’ve been doing this so long-"
It was the first time you'd said it aloud to Ben. You'd mentioned it once to Legend and then made sure he never said anything about it. You weren't sure how Ben would react to you leaving.
"What?" Ben's eyes widen in surprise.
"Come on Ben, you’re telling me that you don’t want to have a normal life? Meet someone, have some kids, settle down? We’ve been doing this shit for years. Doesn’t get any easier."
"Sometimes.” He smirks at you. “So who’s the guy?”
“What?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion.
“The guy you’re going to settle down with.”
“What makes you assume that I’ve met him?”
“I mean, I’ve never seen you with anyone. And I’ve never walked in on you fucking anyone. Plus, you never come to Herogasm-“ Ben pauses. “It’s not Noir is it? Is that why you were protecting him today?”
“No.” You scoff, shading the side of a building to avoid his gaze, because how do you tell him that you met the only person you’d ever wanted when you were 8 years old?
“Good.” Ben drinks from his glass. “I do think about it sometimes.” He says it quietly.
“Huh?”
“The house, having a few rugrats.” He shrugs. “Might be nice.”
“Yeah.” Your throat is tight imagining Ben with someone else like Countess, sitting at his wedding, watching him say those vows to someone else. You didn't think you'd be able to just sit there if it came to that.
“How about you and I get married?” He says it nonchalantly.
You roll your eyes. You knew he didn’t mean it. He was just saying it to joke with you like always. Ben never saw you that way, you were realizing that more and more each day, even though it hurt to think it.
“We’d kill each other before we say I do.” You quip staring down at the page.
“Maybe. But really, we’ve known each other long enough-“
“That’s not a reason to get married. Plus, we both know that you’re not a one woman kind of guy and if you're actually being serious about this it would mean that you would have to change-“
You think about it. If Ben actually did want to commit, could he do it? His wandering eyes and hands would drive you crazy if he finally did want to start a relationship. You definitely did not want an open relationship. You wanted Ben to be wholly yours as much as you would be his, because you knew that if you devoted yourself to Ben, he would probably cheat, but then be furious if you spent any amount of time with someone else. You remembered all the ways he acted around Howard. Ben was crazy around him, and you and Ben hadn’t been together.
Imagine what he would do to someone else if we were.
“I can be a one woman kind of guy-“ Ben scoffs. “I can do anything.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” You mutter, but you know he can hear you.
Ben puts down his glass on your coffee table before his hand lays on top of yours against the sketchpad in you lap.
“Y/n.” He whispers. You can smell the whiskey on his breath, but you don’t look up at him, you can’t. Because you know as soon as you look into his eyes you’ll do whatever he wants.
But you didn’t want to be his consolation prize. You didn’t want Ben to marry you because he was bored, drunk, and he thought he might as well marry you. You wanted Ben to marry you because he was 100% head over heels for you as much as you were for him.
He tilts your chin upwards to look at him. Electricity thrums in your veins when you lock eyes, the look in his gaze is open, gentle, almost tender.
It reminds you of the boy you used to know. Lately you hadn’t seen him. If you were being honest, you hadn’t seen him much since the night he came to ask you to come with him, before the serum, when you thought he finally realized that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.
The only time you’d see the real Ben was when it was just the two of you, not the angry, macho, vengeful fighter for justice that he put on whenever he was in front of the team or in front of the cameras. You didn’t understand that. He said that showing emotions made him less of a man, but he never seemed to have a problem being different when it was just the two of you.
You hated that. In those quiet moments you felt your heart clench tight in your chest because each time you thought that he would finally admit that he loved you, that after all these years you were the one.
But he never did.
“I could change.” Ben whispers. “I could be with one woman.”
“Ben.” You take in a deep breath to clear your head, fighting the ball of emotion that has begun to burn at the back of your throat. “You’re drunk.” You breathe.
He blinks a few times as if he can’t comprehend what you're saying.
“You always get like this when you’re drunk. You know?” You pull back from where his hand rests on your chin. “But you can stay if you want. There’s some pizza in the fridge and I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed.” You stand and step around him, the urge to cry building in your chest.
“Okay.” Ben whispers to the air, because you're already gone, fleeing down the hallway before he can see you cry.
When you step into the shower you allow yourself to break. The soft sobs drowned out by the sound of running water. You wished you could move past this, all of this and more importantly you wished that you hadn’t fallen in love with him.
Memories of the past lodge themselves in the back of your throat. You remember the day he begged you to come with him to get the Compound V injection, when you left your life behind and chose him. You thought that was his way of saying he loved you, that he couldn’t live without you. You were wrong. It hurt to admit that, but you were wrong. Ben didn’t try to build on the relationship you had, he kept it the same, the friendly banter, the hugs, hanging around with you whenever he couldn’t stand to be alone. He still slept over, but that’s all that happened. You thought that day meant something, that it was the beginning of something, some wonderful romanticized future filled with warmth and love.
You never thought it would be like this.
You didn’t regret going with him often, but on nights like this when it was late and Ben was drunk and he acted differently you did. Because it made you think that there was a chance of a future with him, but then when he woke up the next day sober, it started all over again with him being short tempered and a dick to everyone who was around him.
It was exhausting. And you didn’t know how much more of it you could take.
The only thing you regretted about the serum was that it made you immortal, invulnerable, and that meant whoever you decided to make a life with would die. There was only a handful of others like you and you hadn’t liked any of them except Ben. You wondered if this was your penance for saying no to Howard, your mother's last laugh when she said that Ben would never choose you and now you had to go on like this forever.
You remember the fear that you would be trapped in a marriage with Howard, you never thought that you'd feel trapped with Ben.
But now…
When you walk back into your bedroom, Ben’s already in your bed, laying on his back, smoking a blunt and looking at the ceiling. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants, that you bought him forever ago so he didn't have to sleep in his jeans, and the same t-shirt as before.
“What did I say about smoking those in here?” You sigh, getting into bed beside him, but being careful as to not touch even though it’s all you want.
“It’s a free country doll.” Ben mutters, but he puts it out in the ashtray that you left for him on the bedside table. Because you knew that he would continue to do it even when you told him not to.
The amount of times he ended up here at night always surprised you. Ben might have been bed hopping, snorting, and drinking himself into a stupor but the amount of times you woke up with him in bed next to you was astounding. He’d let himself in with the key you made him for emergencies while you were asleep. It was almost like he didn’t sleep in his apartment anymore and you hated how much you depended on him being there in the morning when you woke up. But the truth was, Ben was all you had, and the thought of losing him scared you. Which meant you continued to put up with the man he became, trying to hold tight to the image of the boy he used to be.
You lay on your back beside him, looking up at the ceiling. The inch of space between your bodies is almost too obvious. “I’m going to go to Philadelphia for a few days.” You breathe.
“Why?”
“My brother isn’t doing too well. His son called.” You say, your throat thick. “He said he thinks that it’s time.”
Your parents had passed a few years ago and Ben had gone to the funerals with you. When Ben’s father had passed, he hadn’t gone to the funeral, he’d drowned himself in the 21st annual Herogasm. And after he showed up on your doorstep smelling like sweat, drugs, booze, and cheap perfume. You’d made him take a shower before getting into bed. The next morning you had woken up in his arms, but more surprising was the fact that he had woken up before you and hadn't pushed you away, in fact he had held you closer to him. You figured that he needed someone there with him. His father had done and said horrible things to Ben, and you kept him company if that’s what he wanted, but couldn’t admit it.
“I’m sorry.” His hand finds yours on the bed. The gesture surprises you.
“Yeah. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.” You whisper, squeezing it.
“What do you mean?”
“We don’t age. Everyone else does. Means that we’ll always just see everyone else go.”
“But not us.” Ben says it like he’s trying to cheer you up.
“Yeah.” You sigh.
Does that mean it’s always going to be like this? Me waiting for him to come here after a 24 hour non stop orgy or after he’s had one two many? Just because he can’t stand the thought of being alone?
You didn’t want that future. You knew that he wanted to be there with you, but it wasn’t enough and it wasn’t the same thing you wanted.
Maybe getting out of this would be good. Put some distance between me and him, let me try to find me again.
Ben is quiet for a minute, the only sound you hear is the thrum of the blood in his veins and his heart steadily pumping it.
“Do you want me to come?” He says it slowly, his thumb rubs against the back of your hand in a soothing motion.
The question breaks something inside of you, because you wanted nothing more than to have him there with you, but you didn’t want the version of Ben who was Soldier Boy, the loud, angry, short tempered version who was always high or drunk. The one that you felt that you needed to apologize for.
“Nah. It’ll be okay. I’ll get to see my great nephew. He’s supposed to be walking now.” You try to force cheeriness into your tone, but it doesn’t stick.
“Okay.”
You can’t help but wonder if Ben is hurt by your rejection. You did not often say no to him.
He doesn’t let go of your hand though, in fact he brings it up against his chest while he looks at the ceiling.
"Do you regret it?” Ben says in almost a whisper
"Hmm?”
“Coming with me.”
You pause for a second and think about lying, but finally settle on the truth. “Sometimes."
"Why?” Ben's voice rumbles against where your hand lays against his chest, and for a second you think he sounds almost pained.
"We’ve changed so much than who we were back then. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.”
You didn’t want to say that it was him you didn’t recognize. Or that it always felt that you were running after the boy he used to be. The one that made you feel safe, comforted, made it feel like home.
"I don’t think change is a bad thing."
Of course you don't.
"It is if it’s in the wrong direction.” You whisper, but know he can hear you.
“So that’s why you want out? Because you don’t recognize yourself? Seems like a shitty reason."
“I just think it might be nice to try something new. I’ve been doing this for such a long time-“
“That’s why the films would be a good idea. If you want I can talk to the director about you being a co-star in the one we start filming next week. He won't say no to me-“ It was the closest you’d ever heard him come to pleading, besides the night he asked you to come with him to get the serum.
But why? Was it his way of keeping me with him? Was it because he didn’t want me to leave because he wanted me here? Or was it because he just wanted someone there to sit with when the silence was too much? The silence that seems to follow when he's not with me.
“Ben I’m okay. It’s okay I just want something different.”
“Like what?” You hand is still clutched in his where it rests over his chest and you can't help but wonder why. It was surprising. Sure Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but holding your hand for this long was unusual. You attributed it to the booze. When Ben got drunk he tended to be more clingy, he never admitted that, but you saw it.
“I don’t know. I just want a family again-“
“You have a family. You said you’re going to see your great nephew-" Ben says it like he doesn't want you to leave and it breaks something inside you.
How can he not admit that he cares about me? That he loves me? He has to after all these years doesn't he?
“I know. I mean I want a family. Someone to come home to every night, someone I love, someone who loves me-“ You fight to keep the frustrated tears from falling. The dream of him and you inhabiting your apartment together washes back over your mind in shades of gray. You wanted that so badly.
“Oh.”
“You don’t want that?” It’s taking everything for you not to tell Ben that you want it to be him, that you always wanted it to be him.
“Maybe.”
The silence grows between the two of you as you lay there and Ben still hasn't let go of your hand.
“Did you want to marry him?” He says after a few minutes.
“What?” You look at him confused. Ben isn't looking at the ceiling like you thought, he's looking at you. He almost looks, sorry. And you wonder again how much he's had to drink.
“That asshole." He clarifies.
"Howard?"
"Yeah."
“It’s been 40 years-“ You sigh as if it doesn’t matter. But it does. You chose Ben that night and you thought that him asking you to come with him meant that he was choosing you as well.
“Come on.” Ben squeezes the hand that rests against his chest.
“Why does it matter?"
“Because you’re saying you wanted a family. Someone to come home to and that pussy would have given it to you.”
You pause for a second trying to read his expression. “I like the idea of marriage. Of saying those vows to someone else.” You say slowly. “But I didn’t want to say them to Howard.” You don’t say that you wanted to say them to Ben, don’t say that the night he told you not to marry Howard you thought he was trying to tell you that he wanted to marry you instead.
“So you want to say them to someone?”
“Yeah. One day.” You frown, turning back to look at the ceiling. “You never want to say them to someone?”
Ben doesn’t answer immediately. “Maybe.”
Probably Liberty.
You sigh to yourself thinking about one of your least favorite supes that you’d come across. She wasn’t terrible, just pushy and into supes being united together. You also didn’t like that she felt that supes deserved to be worshiped, that supes were gods, but you knew you weren't. The powers were not random, the gifts were not given by God, they were given by the devil and all those deals came with a price. Even if you tired to walk away, you wondered if Vought would let you go. You also hated how much time Ben spent with her.
The thought of her leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and despite how good it feels, you pull your hand free from Ben's grasp and turn your back to him, cuddling into your pillow. Your grip is so tight on fluffy material you wonder how it hasn't ripped, but you need to stop talking to him. Talking to him when he was like this made it harder and right now it was taking everything not to cry again.
And you were just so tired of everything. You wondered if one day it would be different.
“Goodnight Ben.” You whisper.
“Goodnight.”
And just as you drift into a dreamless sleep, you think you feel him put his arm around your waist and pull your back into his chest, but when you wake up the next day you forget and Ben is gone.
*************************************************
n/a: Yeah, this chapter is really sad. And I wish that I could say it gets better, but honestly, it's gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. 😭😭😭
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444
#soldier boy x you#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy/ben#the boys amazon#the boys fanfic#jensen ackles#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x y/n#the boys#the boys series#the boys tv#soldier boy fic#jackles#the boys season 3#the boys s3
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Dude, I don't know why I am asking this. But do you think poly moonwater will choose to be child free? I do think so. I mean, regulus past story and remus fury problem, I don't think they'll want kids at all
But if reader accidentally gets pregnant. Do you think they gonna keep their distance an arm lenght? I mean, I remember in the book remus trying to leave nymphadora who's pregnant at that moment (or is it after she gave birth? Can't really remember) by trying to help Harry looking for the idk the name of it, voldemort collections?
oooouuuu this is a fun question! thanks for asking; and I think that happened before teddy lupin was born and they were searching for Voldemort's horcruxes! - also, in regards to canon, I think the reason remus felt willing to take off was because he truly was sort of all alone: no parents, no siblings, no family, no friends. Plus society constantly shitting on him, plus there being a war etc etc, he felt very desperate and didn't feel like he could handle being responsible for nymphadora and a child
But of course since WE DON'T LIVE IN A WOLD WITH VOLDEMORT OVER HERE 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I think this is a valid question
(my answer is going to be SFW until the page break below - I will put warnings ahead of time for minors)
My answer would be yes, I agree that Regulus and Remus would perhaps wish to be childfree. Like you said, Remus feels like society views him as a stain and he wouldn't want to pass that legacy onto a child (biologically his or not), and he also wouldn't want to put a child through the pain of seeing their father suffer through every lunar cycle. Regulus had a horrific childhood and would be very scared to be anything like his mother or father, and I kind of see him as this guy who really doesn't know what to do with kids...he never had a childhood really, and never was around other kids until he was at Hogwarts, and by then he was right traumatized soooo yes I agree, he would be worried about having children.
As for our darling reader finding out she was pregnant? I have some thoughts on that.
I think Regulus has a deep rooted sense of duty and loyalty to his people, and ultimately, Remus and reader would be his people. Even if he hated the idea of reader being pregnant/having his child, I think he would shove that down so deep and just completely take on this role he never really wanted but hey, he's here now and he's going to do what he has to do. It was why he ended up in Slytherin (duty/loyalty to his family), and it was why he took the dark mark (duty/loyalty to his family). He took the mark because he believed that to be his role, his job in life - and if reader ended up pregnant, well, that was his duty then.
I think Remus would be a wild card. Remus never had a proper childhood either; he had to grow up really fast as he was bitten at only 4 years old. This means for as long as he can remember, he's been a werewolf. He didn't get to attend school (due to injuries/pains, scars, unexplained absences etc), he never had siblings, and he couldn't play with the village kids. So not only does he not necessarily know what to do with kids, I think he'd still have some of those "the kid would be better off without me, I can't curse another life to me and my lycanthropy) BUT I think he'd have been around Harry and loved that kid so damn much, and he'd have his friends and loved ones to help him come to terms with it.
This could be a cute fic request.
now.....as for the NSFW stuff (18+, minors don't look down here)
I have this headcanon that pureblood's have a breeding kink....they were literally bred, born, and raised to carry on the bloodline and produce heirs - so I don't think Regulus was fucking innocent in that conception LOL he would have been very excited thinking about spilling inside of reader and getting her knocked up.
in a similar vein, I also believe that there is a primal side of Remus with his lycanthropy which would ALSO support a breeding kink - truly fucks like an animal tbh and gets so turned on at the thought of filling reader up
okay sorry for being a dirty horn dog thanks byeeeee
#ask elle#marauders headcanon#regulus black#remus lupin#moonwater#moonseeker#poly!moonseeker#poly!moonwater#ellecdc fics
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IF YOU WANT .
cowgirl!abby x reader
summary ; after having seemingly nothing ahead of you for what felt like years but was really just months, your mother finds a new opportunity for you, a new purpose to linger in your life, but is it made for you?
cw ; switch!abby, switch!reader, slow burn, southern au, eventual smut, abby denying her feelings for the longest time ever, hair braiding!! , catching butterflies, will-they-won't-they, arguments but coming from a nice place , closeted/unsure!abby, sharing a bed, slight homophobia, teaching abby how to play a piano, cuddling on accident and on purpose, slight praise kink from both sides, abby teaches you how to ride a horse , dancing!!, baking, injury , reader is scared of dogs ok , NO use of y/n , rrrrrr idk this will probs be added to
a/n ; is it ok that i added stuff to the content warning that'll be in future chapters just not this one and isn't all smutty stuff or is that not ok????? also sorry the caps are ugly i feel improper without them.
A slick heat beat down on your hair, snuffing any previously made attempts at improving it's state, and the journey you had just taken had worn you of any care for it by this point. Growing up in England only made matters worse, severely unpreparing you for this sort of weather, and you dreaded the fact that this was all you'd be feeling for who knows how long. Suitcases were hauled from your mother's car , safely situated at your side before she brought you into a crushing hug, one that had you groaning at the pressure.
"Make sure you write, you know how worried me and your father'll be." She said sternly, hands holding your shoulders.
"Yeah, I know. I will." You replied just as adamantly.
"Okay, good. You make sure you have fun now, okay? Oh , and remember-" your mother rambled on , which you were sure was just her way of keeping you back longer.
"Remember my manners, yeah, I got it." You interrupted. You truly were going to miss her and your father, but you were sure if she was here any longer she might just cave and stay eith you, which you did not want. A warm smile curled against her lips, crows feet appearing at the corners of her eyes.
"Look at you, my sweet girl, all grown up." She sighed dreamily and you couldn't help but grin, eyes rolling lightheartedly.
"Yeah, yeah." You dismissed, bringing her into one last crushing hug before exchanging small 'goodbyes' and 'i love you's' before she reluctantly got back into her car and headed off, leaving you to sit on a bench, awaiting your ride.
Your mother had been friends with a man called Jerry Anderson for longer than you could recall, and after one of their most recent catchups, the topic of you had eventually been picked up. You had always been a good student, exceptional grades whilst maintaining a stable social life and everyone had always expected big things from you, only once you had graduated university, your whole life had come to a standstill and it was starting to look like you'd be living at home forever. That was until Jerry brought up the fact his daughter, Abby, could use some tutoring, and it was settled before you'd even known ; you were going to tutor his daughter.
You didn't know why, nor did you even care really. As long as it gave you something to do with your life , you would do it. Being a picture perfect role model and ending up this way was no short of humiliating , and no amount of concealing it from everyone else could hide the truth from yourself.
"Tsch, what the fuck is this signal?" You groan quietly as you attempt to do anything with your phone to distract you from the boredom looming over your body and the nervousness pooling in your stomach, filling the gaps between you organs in a sickly warm way. Thankfully for you, a truck pulls up , usefully arriving at the exact time discussed. This never would've happened back home. You hate the fact you feel homesick already.
A door opens and you stand up, shaking the hand of the man in front of you. He's taller by a few inches, maybe 3 or 4, hair which is seemingly quite long done up in a neat ponytail and you're almost jealous of the way it sticks better than your hair, messily braided by yourself, a skill you've never mastered. You're sure you could, but between studies and friends and family, you'd never had the time.
"So you're the one who's gonna be putting up with Abs, huh?" He teases playfully with an accent you weren't expecting, sounding far more Spanish than Southern, pulling his hand away to grab your suitcases, an act of chivalry you're not too acquainted with.
"Abs?" You questioned.
"Oh, Abby." He corrected. You nodded in recognition, slightly humiliated you didn't link the two.
"Yeah, I guess." You say, climbing into the passenger seat of his burgundy truck. The seats are slightly worn, objects strewn across here and there, but nothing grotesque. He gets in and starts the engine up before beginning to drive. A heavy silence hangs in the air, once he seems to be a lot more comfortable with in comparison to your agitated state.
"So...what's she like?" You ask reluctantly, unsure on whether making conversation is a food idea. You don't even know him, and you're not sure he's worth getting to know.
"Abby? She's smart, really, just not got the right knowledge to get outta this place. Listens real well too, always got an eye for seeing things about people. She's nice to be around, awkward if you don't know her though. Real funny too, but don't tell her I said that." He explains. His carefree attitude irritates you slightly. This is all business to you.
"Why's she want to leave?" You ask, testing the waters, unsure od where the boundaries lie. Manny shrugs his shoulders.
"I never really asked. Why'd you leave?" He counters, confusing you.
"Huh?"
"I mean, you had this whole life n now you're here, what's up with that?" He explains himself, eyes flicking to you slightly before returning to the road.
You shrug slowly, staring down at the objects you can see here and there.
"Dunno. Just...not much left for me back there, or something." You say vaguely. He doesn't pry, which you like.
"So, what's England like?" He asks.
You find yourself settling into a comfortable conversation with him, the soft sound of music playing on the radio as a mere background noise. You find you don't dislike him as much anymore.
The town is small, definitely smaller than anything you've ever seen, and it's equally shocking how friendly everybody is. Every person you pass says hey or at least waves. It should decrease your nerves and allow you to relax a little, but it has you even more jittery. You're noticing how much you stand out even more as things go on. Most people are dressed in shorts , dresses, tank tops, skirts, anything that let's what little cool breeze circulate their body and suddenly you wish you'd acquired more taste in clothes that go beyond your usual jeans , long or occasionally short sleeved shirt and converse combo. You make sure to make a mental note to go shopping as Manny continues to drive.
A wooden, clearly old house (though better described as a cottage) slowly emerged into view. The paint was cracked in some areas, however other parts looked freshly applied, so, putting two and two together, you assumed there was renovations being done.
"So...how many people, y'know...fit in that?" You asked Manny, unsure there was going to be enough space for everything.
"Oh well, Abby has her own place not too far from here so it's actually just been her dad." He explained as they pulled up into the dirt driveway before getting out. You went for your suitcases, slightly protective over them in such a unfamiliar setting, but Manny was quick to wave you off, getting them out himself. You followed awkwardly behind, unsure of yourself ; wondered if it was too late to turn back now.
"Manny, hey!" Jerry called out, leaving his position on the couch to wrap Manny up in a hug before holding his hand out to you.
"Hey, it's so good to see you." Jerry greeted politely. You have a slight smille, your mother's words lingering in the back of your mind.
"You too."
"I'll go check on your room. D'you want a drink or anything?" He asked to which you shook your head.
"No thank you."
"Alright." He said before heading upstairs, leaving your eyes to scan the house. The place was well painted, a stark contrast to the outside of the house. Lace curtains adorned almost every window, walls covered in random paintings, some hand drawn personally, some purchased from nearby stores. A few coffee mugs lay out, a couple records here and there. It was warm, obviously lived in and taken care of. The wooden floorboards creaked slightly as you slowly moved along, trying to remain inconspicuous and subtle in your curiousness which felt lot like snooping to you. Your fingers reached out to run along the record player held on a tidy shelf, only filled otherwise with a plant and some cds for the car before you heard scrambling paws on wood and, before you could even move, a dog jumping up at you.
Your first instinct was to instantly recoil, retracting your hand back as you stepped back unsteadily. You did not like dogs. Small ones were tolerable at the most, but big ones were crossing the line by a mile, and this was a big dog. In all reality it just wanted to play and was excited by the presence of somebody new, but you couldn't consider that right now.
"Hey, Alice, c'mon, get down." A soft , almost silky smooth voice laughed awkwardly, a voice you were not yet familiar with. The dog - Alice - retreated, allowing you to look up qt the woman who had just entered. Dirty blonde hair, probably considerably long however the proper length went undetermined due to it being tied up in a tight braid. She was a little like an ox ; viisibly muscular, slightly taller by 3 inches , yet her demeanour was anything but. Her hand reached out to yours. You stared at it, unmoving.
"Hey, s' good to see you. I'm Abby." She greeted as warmly as she could. Abby. The girl you were tutoring. Your lack of movement and response caused her to pull her hand back awkwardly.
"Not much of a hand shaker?" She asked, clearly desperate to fill the silence hanging in the air like thick fog, threatening to suffocate the two of you.
"Not really." You lied, knowing full well you could still feel the texture of everyone's hands you had shaken on your skin (yes, everyone was two people). Today seemed to be going your way for a split second as Jerry came in, however all hope was quickly disintegrated.
"So uh, bad news. There's been a leakage in one of the pipes , the one right above your room and I wouldn't wanna make you stay in that." He explains, features and tone nothing but apologetic.
"Oh." You say. If a long journey with an over-emotional mother and heat that had your clothes sticking to you in the mosf uncomfortable ways humanely possible wasn't bad enough, this was the final tipping point.
"We can pay for you to stay at a motel for you for now but-"
"She can stay with me?" Abby interrupts, quick to add onto her words for a reason you can't quite place your finger on.
"Cause, y'know, she's my tutor and all so it's just easier than going back and forth to different houses and I can take the couch." She explains, rambling on and on incessantly, hands moving and curving. It'd be annoying if you weren't so exhausted.
"Okay yeah, if that's okay with you?" Jerry asked you to which you shrugged absentmindedly.
"Sure." You agreed.
If you thought the silence in the house around two other people was bad, you were infinitely wrong. Being sat next to someone you barely know in dead silence, only provided the whirring of the car to fuel your thoughts, was a nightmare. You could briefly notice her opening her mouth every so often , and you assumed that she was going to ask why you were here and for some reason couldn't. Her eyes constantly flicked to you, desperate you would say something first to do you both a favour. You didn't.
"So uh, why'd you-" she began.
"Hey, Abby? I really don't want to be rude but, I'm exhausted." You interrupted, pleading with everything in you that she would take the hint and be quiet, which thankfully, she did. You almost felt bad. Almost.
The rest of the car journey was done in silence, and you didn't even bother looking at her house nor examining the contents of it as though you were doing a quick in-and-out shopping trip, walking in and being lead up to her room , suitcases placed down before she rambled on about something you couldn't even grasp the concept of the second she opened her lips to speak.
"Um, anyways, g'night." She murmured, awkwardly going to leave the room. Watching her walk out of the door like a dog with it's tail between it's legs was enough for you to give in and soothe her nerves slightly with an exaggerated sigh.
"Hey Abby?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
It was the first time you'd seen her smile or look even slightly relaxed all day.
#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby x fem!reader#the last of us#fluff#eventual smut#little angst#abby fluff#abby smut#abby angst#wlw#sapphic#minors dni#awkward#idk how to tag this#tlou au#tlou2#praise k!nk#soft sex#soft love#cuties#horse#how do i even tag this
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Chapter 1: A New Prophet
AO3 Link
Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader
Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.
Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas
Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into much more. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible. I split this part into two chapters because it’s so long.
This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!
Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.
Hope you enjoy! :)
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April 2038
Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.
She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.
She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.
She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.
She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.
And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.
It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:
“The Prophet is on the move.”
He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.
She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.
One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.
“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.
“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”
“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.
“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”
Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.
Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”
Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”
Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”
“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”
“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”
“Then wha—”
He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”
Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”
“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”
“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.
“One battle at a time, Abby.”
“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”
“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”
At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.
“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”
She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”
“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.
When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.
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March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)
The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.
Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.
She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.
You were to be brave. And strong.
The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.
No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.
You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.
While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.
This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?
You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.
But there would be no crying today.
Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.
Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.
You were not supposed to be vain.
Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.
“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”
She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”
She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”
You nodded quickly. Obediently.
She seemed pleased as she left the room.
You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.
The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.
On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.
Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.
“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.
You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.
Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.
“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.
“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”
You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.
“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”
You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.
But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.
Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.
“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.
Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.
You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.
For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…
The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.
You took a deep breath and started walking.
Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)
Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.
You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.
The process was always the same.
Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.
It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.
You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.
The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.
As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.
You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.
Why were there so many people here?
Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.
The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.
Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?
You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.
When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.
You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.
“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”
You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.
But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.
So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.
Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.
“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.
“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”
“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”
“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”
Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.
“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”
The crowd erupted in celebration.
You went completely numb and tuned them all out.
The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.
A new Prophet?
There can’t be a new Prophet.
What does that even mean?
There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.
And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?
Why you?
Why you?
Why you?
It can’t be you.
If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.
Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.
“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.
The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.
Your legs suddenly felt very weak.
Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.
This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”
You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.
The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:
“You will lead us through the storm
May the current be calm
May You guide us home.”
Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.
Almost like they were praying to you…
Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.
You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.
This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.
But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.
You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.
You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.
You wanted to go home.
“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”
When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”
“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.
You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.
Finally, you found your mother among them.
And she was crying.
“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”
The cheers were deafening.
As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.
You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.
At least someone was as skeptical as you were.
You wondered if you would get to go home now.
But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.
There, servants’ gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.
You would never live in your mother’s house again.
And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.
#the wolf and the prophet#my writing#abby anderson#abby anderson x fem!reader#abby anderson x reader#abby x fem!reader#abby x reader#abby tlou#tlou2#abby anderson fanfic#abby anderson fic
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America² part two
It's been a long time coming and I'm so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long , the fanfic writer curse of having the worst luck caught up to me recently. This got wrote in shifts so might not be the same quality throughout. Not edited or proofread. Written whilst I was half asleep most of the time
Word count: 5.5k words
Warnings: smut , unprotected sex (don't do this irl) , face slapping, curse words , use of cock dick pussy etc ,I think that's it
I am so glad this season is over" Oscar said as he had his last bite of food
"Can't wait to just dissappear for winter break" Y/n agreed as logan hummed in agreement
"Are you going back to florida or are you going to do some traveling?" Oscar asked logan
"Yeah are you going to have a fuckboy Winter break like you usually do or did everyone finally realise how awful you are?" Y/n teased
"Haha , I never had any fuckboy winterbreaks but I've heard about how you've been slutted about in past season breaks" logan said only realising after how mean it was and how he shouldn't have said it in such a public setting
"Slutted out? Jesus Sargeant, you almost sound jealous " she laughed knowing she'll definitely get some new dirt on him, already knowing some humiliating kinks he has,when he inevitably either Jack's off on the other side of the hotel wall with his porn way too loudly or when he brings some girl back to the hotel to celebrate the last race of the season
"You wish" he scoffed and rolled his eyes
"Now now children" Oscar said leaning into his role of their mother whenever they insulted each other
"So what are you and lily doing for winter break? Going anywhere nice?"
Y/n asked cutting logan off from his snarky remark
"Hopefully somewhere hot and far away from you two" the Aussie replied getting an "oi" in reply from both of them
"Rude, you love us really" Y/n scoffed
"What like you and logan love each other"
"Yeah! ... wait no " logan said realising Oscar wasn't being nice
"How do they let you drive an f1 car man , they should give you a 5 lap headstart cause is there even a brain up there" she joked knocking on his head and saying "nope hollow" after to which he winced and rubbed his head
"Are you guys coming to the after party?" Oscar asked wanting to party with his friends
"Depends if logan is going" Y/n said
"And how big the place is" logan added
"It's got to fit everyone we work with in so I'd say pretty big, plenty of space to hide from each other or sneak off in a dark corner and do god knows what" he added laughing when their faces contoured in disgust
"Let it go Oscar, we're not gonna fuck before the end of the season, but I will be attending the after party" Y/n said getting her coat and leaving
"God what is her problem?" Logan said watching her walk away ,his eyes definitely didn't graze down to her ass as she angrily stomped away or anything why would you think that .
"Sexual frustration I think" Oscar joked which earned him a punch to the shoulder from the male American who walked off aswell not before calling Oscar a perv
At the hotel they all relaxed for a bit and then started to get slowly ready for the after party. Y/n deciding to blast some fun music not caring about the guy she shared a thin wall with . Obviously a mistake as he came stomping from his room to hers with a scowl on his face as he angrily knocked on her door . Expecting one of her friends she was going to the party with she opened the door in the sports bra and pyjama shorts she put on after her shower discarding her shirt when she heard the knocks
Swinging it open and revealing the last person she ever expected left her with a Shocked expression on her face and an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach about what she was wearing , crossing her arms over her chest to cover the skin there , but that only gave the effect of a push up bra which didn't really help logan trying desperately not to look down there while she complains that he's at her door for literally no reason
"Did you hear me ? I said why are you standing at my door?" She asked snapping her fingers infront of his face
"Oh right, can you turn the music down I can't hear myself think in my room" he said trying to shake the inappropriate thoughts he was having
"Well I cranked the volume up cause you usually jerk it or bring some girl back at this time and I didn't want to hear it, so you're welcome"
"I didn't thank you , and why would I . For creepily knowing when I jerk off ? You probably do it the other side of the wall to me" he accused
"Don't act like oscar didn't tell me about the time you called someone else my name when you came" Y/n said with a smug look
"In my defence i thought you two had the same name"
"I heard her say she her name was valentine, incase you haven't noticed thats nothing like Y/n. Just admit you want us to hate fuck just as much as oscar does"
"Fuck off , just turn the music down" he said walking back to his room *and definitely not thinking of how his hands or dick would feel in between her boobs* god what is with his mind today
It took him longer to get ready than usual thanks to the thoughts he was having , and the bulge in his trousers that wouldn't go down no matter what innocent thought he tried to imagine
He was half dressed in a nice shirt and was trying to put his jeans up his legs before quickly realising the bulge in his boxers was not going to go down and he would have to do something about it
Putting some music on to get him in the mood and so the girl on the other side of the wall that he may or may not be imagining stroking him right now instead of his own hand won't hear his desperate whines
Trying to get this over with so he can go party with his friends , he quickens his pace and starts to slightly flick his wrist in a way that has his head lolling back and leaving him breathless
"Fuck-" he moaned out hoping the music masked it and she wouldn't be able to hear it or the skin against skin
He was delving into his deepest dirtiest fantasies to try for once to bust in under 5 minutes
She was in her room on the other side of the wall being bombarded with questions from Oscar about where logan was, whether he was ready to go or not etc as if she was his babysitter . She tried knocking on his door but got no answer, she knocked on the door that connected the two rooms and again no answer but she could hear music playing so assumed he just couldn't hear her so she opened the door just enough so she could get a peek to make sure he was decent and then was going to knock on the wood
But when she saw him doing the last thing she thought he'd be doing right now , her hand didn't come up to knock on the door as fast as it probably should have, but seeing him head pressed into the pillow eyes closed as his chest heaved with every whine or strangled moan that escaped his mouth the waistband of his boxers down enough to let his cock escape but still keep him covered , his glorious slightly sweaty veiny arms working hard to keep up with the fast pace he had set for himself
Y/n found herself mouth agape stood in his doorway wondering why him moaning was so incredibly hot to her and why her feet were walking closer to the bed
"Y/n" he moaned stopping her in her tracks , especially since his eyes were closed and he definitely wouldn't have heard her walk in due to the music blasting . She wouldn't admit it , but it did make her heart beat a little quicker
She put her palm over her eyes as she turned to music off to make it look like she hadn't been staring , this caused him to sit up quicker than anyone ever has and cover himself with a pillow that was beside him
"Y/n!! What are you doing here?" He asked feeling rather exposed
"Oscar kept asking me about whether you were ready or not and you're door was locked and you didn't hear me knock" she explained palm still firmly over her eyes
"You can take your hand away I'm not doing anything" he said trying to make this less uncomfortable
"Are you sure this isn't a plan to get me to see your dick?" She said trying to fall back into her hating him persona
"Don't act like I didn't feel you staring as you walked in"
"You didn't even know I walked in!" She accused
They hadn't realised Oscar had walked in through the open door until he spoke up
"Nice to see you're ready like I said to be logan" he said scaring both of them
"I'm half way done okay , just let me get my pants on and we can leave"
"Okay do we need to turn around while you put your cock away or what?" Y/n joked half hoping he'd say no
"Woah woah wait , what were you two doing before I walked in ? You were watching him wank weren't you?" Oscar accused the pair infront of him
" Can't believe you'd think so lowly of me , you couldn't pay me to watch that"she said
"Yeah cause you can watch it for free through a crack in my door like the creep you are" logan bit back
"Oh I'm the creep? Who moaned who's name whilst getting off tonight me or you?"
"I mean I didn't hear you getting off but I'd take a chance and say you" he smugly laughed
"There is way too much sexual tension right now and it smells like dick and balls so we'll leave you to get ready and meet us in the hallway" Oscar said before his friends had the chance to fuck infront of him
After they got back to Y/n's room Oscar was bombarding her with questions about logan moaning her name since this wasn't the first time logan had said her name whilst aroused
It was no longer than 10 minutes later when logan met them in the hallway and they were getting in the taxi to go the party
When they got there everyone went their separate ways and found their friends who they would spend most of the night with
Oscar and logan did meet up throughout the night , mostly so Oscar could try and get a confession out of logan not that he ever did , much to Oscar's disappointment . He also spoke to Y/n to see if she would give him any indication that she liked logan romantically but she was nowhere near drunk enough
The party was more boring than they thought it was going to be partly because toto didn't crowd surf that year and partly because neither Y/n nor Logan could stop thinking about what would've happened if Oscar hadn't have walked in . Would she have given him a helping hand , or mouth , would he let her stand and watch him get off to the thought of her , would they do the things he was imagining ? The world may never know what would've happened because of the Australian that bounced in the room
Thanks to the free bar and friends shoving drinks into the sexually frustrated and confused pairs hands the thoughts about each other were kept on the back-burner well atleast until they were both in their hotel rooms one last time before winter break where they could do whatever they wanted while thinking about whoever they wanted
Unfortunately, nothing happened in the club as they couldn't find each other and they had some self respect as to not fuck in the disgusting club bathroom
They thought they were in the clear of not seeing each other until the next season started in three months which meant they could spend that time pretending like they weren't developing feeling for each other , but post season testing slipped both of their minds and they would have to see each other on track one last time that year
They had two days to try and act like they still hated each other , but that was proving difficult as everytime one of them closed their eyes they would relive the scene that happened in his hotel room days before
In post season testing , they let reserve drivers or f2 drivers have the chance to drive an f1 car so logan and Y/n weren't needed until the second half of the day so we're free to watch or just entertain themselves until it was their turn
They mostly stood around in their respective garages going over data or scrolling their phones in their driver rooms
Logan was being hard on himself based on the data from the season and how bad he felt he did , which was a sad sight to see. Y/n was in a similar position as annoyingly enough the Americans finished one after the other in the standings which just gave every reporter and journalist another way to compare the two
Her and oscar did visit the Williams garage so Oscar could try and cheer him up Y/n was only there as she was talking to Oscar as he walked towards the garage , but it was clear he was ticked off and needed to blow off some steam. While Oscar was thinking of how to take his mind off of the had results Y/n was stood daydreaming which didn't really help logan as the last thing he needed was to have her stood infront of her race suit tied around her waist showing her tight fireproofs as she stood there looking pretty . She had to be doing it on purpose he thought
They were meant to be setting up to get logan on track , but George had just crashed his Mercedes and red flagged the session which meant more waiting in the Abu Dhabi sun and the inappropriate thoughts he couldn't get out of his head weren't helping with the heat
What also didn't help was when he saw her get out of her car , ass pushing the limits of her race suit as she gripped the halo , oh how logan wished her fingers were wrapped around something else
When she came and knocked on his driver room door to see if he wanted to go find somewhere to eat while they get the race going again , he thought his head was going to explode from the thoughts he definitely shouldn't be having as he saw her leaning against his door frame asking a polite question that Oscar definitely made her ask . It was the straw that broke the camels back when someone dropped what he assumed was a piece of equipment in the garage making her boobs jiggle as she jumped
He strode over to her as she just looked back confused because he hadn't answered her question but instead pressed a firm kiss to her lips . When he pulled back there was obviously a bewildered look on her face because to kiss her out of the blue is crazy enough but to do it infront of whoever could see them was another level
She pushed him into the room before returning the kiss as his hands slipped to her waist
"What was that for?" She asked not actually caring she thought she'd ask for when Oscar asked her after she told him
"Oscar said I need to let off some steam and I think I've found a perfect way" he laughed as his fingers traced the sliver of skin where her fireproofs separated
"You're so annoying" she whined as he made no move to take any clothing off of her
"Shut it ,we don't have time for foreplay, but you're probably wet enough for me to take you right now" he teased as his fingers trailed down her body and inside the bottom half of what she was wearing as she pulled his clothes over his head and kissed him again tongues fighting
As they made out and stripped , he walked them both to the little sofa in the corner of the room and sat down . As their lips separated she was going ask what position he wanted to do ,but he patted his lap before she could
"Protection?" She asked not fancying getting an sti from the fuckboy of miami
"In my bag , side pocket" he lazily pointed not bothering to get up and get it
As he stroked himself while she went up and got the condom he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't having another dream
When she rolled the condom on and sunk down on him he realised this was better than any dream he'd had because it was actually real
"Fuck" he moaned as he leaned his head back on his hands and watched her ride him hissing as he was almost too big on the way down
"Am I going to do all the work or are you going to help?" She asked trying to catch her breath not bothering to stop moving her hips
He didn't answer and instead just grabbed her hips and gave some rough thrusts before rubbing her clit furiously as she whined in his ear and bit his shoulder to stay quiet as she came on his cock
"Clean yourself up and then you can suck me off before we have to go back to racing" he said knowing there was nothing in his room she could use to clean herself but couldn't bring himself to car
"How charming sargeant" Y/n said in a monotone voice as she pulled her underwear up her legs and just deciding to make a run to the toilet before she gets in the car
"I let you come first , what's more charming than that?" He asked
"Maybe not a half assed fuck before a race" she said getting on her knees infront of the sofa as she took the condom he was wearing off
"Just suck my dick so you can go back to your own drivers room" he said pulling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and dragging her face closer to his cock
She had barely gotten past the head before she could feel her lips stinging from being stretched so wide
"You should see how much of a slut you look like right now" he said forcing her to take more than she ever had before and choked back a gag
When she hollowed her cheeks and took him to the base he swear he was seeing stars , but when she came up for air he wasn't impressed "shit do that again" he said as he slapped her cheek as she looked up at him with those teary eyes that almost made him bust a nut
When she didn't do as he said he slapped her again and again until she obeyed and called her some other derogatory name
"You're drooling all over my fucking lap , you better clean it up after" he said as she let him fuck her mouth as she brought her hand up from its resting place on his thigh to play with his balls
"Not my fault there's no space left in my fucking mouth"
When she moaned around his cock and sent vibrations and tingles up his spine he swore he had never cum so hard or so much but she swallowed every drop
Not much was said between them whilst getting re dressed and trying to make it look like they weren't just fucking . Thankfully the engineers had very loud tools and music playing in the garage
Post season testing went better than expected as both Americans made their way into the top 10 . When Oscar congfatulated both of them they were standing further apart than they usually were and weren't making eye contact , but he assumed they just had another pointless argument
Logan and Y/n spent alot of that night trying to decide whether that was a mistake or whether they wanted to do it again . Y/n made it clear that she wouldn't be just another one of his girls and that he would have to commit to her even if they were just friends with benefits
Logan had been invited on a lads holiday with a few of his friends from back home and oscar , which took up alot of the winter break and meant he had alot of time to think about Y/n and how he wanted their relationship to pan out. He saw alot of couples on this trip and his feeling for her were definitely growing . He liked all the sex they had but also loved the domestic stuff like hearing her talk about her day over the phone or her asking his opinion on what outfit she should wear
Over a very horny facetime call Y/n had mentioned the idea of flying to wherever he was and just fuck until they had made up for all of the lost time
It was a good idea in theory , but trying to book a flight close to Christmas was just as hard as you'd imagine , but that gave logan time to plan how he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend
They had video called every night for the next few weeks until she was flying to wherever he was in the world and they couldn't wait. He was going to just ask her when he met her at the airport as he knew she didn't like big gestures. He just hoped she felt the same
"Logie" she exclaimed as she practically ran towards him hugging him when she met his eyes in the crowd of people
"Don't tell Oscar I borrowed the rental car for this" he laughed as he kissed her temple because her face was hidden in his chest as they continued hugging
"I wouldn't get my boyfriend in trouble on his lads holiday now would I? I'd be a terrible girlfriend if I did" she laughed as he looked at her mouth agape
"You talk in you're sleep , i think it's cute how much detail you put into this" she said as they walked out of the very small airport which she was thankful for as they weren't being mobbed by fans for once
When they got to the hotel the sweet cute couple effect had worn off and they just wanted to well and truly fuck . Logans friends had unfortunately booked an activity for them that he had no idea about so had to leave her all alone is his hotel room no matter how dirty the things she would whisper in his ear in hopes he would stay were
He did manage to leave early as he faked some illness
"Logan?" Y/n questioned as his door unlocked
"Y/n" he said eyes softening as he looked at her laying all comfy on the sofa wearing his clothes
"You took sooo and I couldn't find any WiFi password or the TV remote so I couldn't even watch any porn while you were gone" she said sadly as he sat next to her
"I got back as soon as I could , none of them wanted to let me come back here" he said leaning in and kissing her with such passion
"Don't try and butter me up sargeant , I've been horny for hours thanks to you" she said putting her hands on his shoulders and making sure he knew he was to blame
"If you want some angry sex all you had to do was ask baby" he said leading her to the bedroom
"Fuck me like you're mad at me then " she laughed as she almost tripped over both of their feet
"I saw your burner account comment that on my Instagram by the way" he called her out as he fell back on to the bed and she made her way onto his lap
"Theres no proof that it's me" she said laughing as she ground on his lap
"I just have a feeling" he said his hands coming up to hold her hips
"I just love how riled up you get, you really give it to me"
"So are you going to suck my dick like you're mad at it or are we skipping foreplay" he asked not knowing how much more friction and pressure he could take as she moaned almost angelically in his ear
"Surely you'd be compensating me for making me wait?" She said giving him the eyes
He didn't need to be told twice, laying her down on the bed as he kissed his way down her body as she tried to rid them both of atleast their shirts so she could feel some skin against skin
After he had pulled her sweatpants down her ankles too impatient to take them all the way off and let her kick them off while he rubbed her slit and clit through her underwear enough to make her gasp and her him to just take them off , he pushed them to the side while gathering some slick so he could easily push 2 fingers in just to make her moan at the unexpectedness of two at once and cause he still wanted to tease her with no preparation but going from how wet she was she had definitely either been thinking inappropriately the entire time she was waiting or got off atleast once already
"This all for me?" He asked knowing it was but loved to see her get embarrassed at how wet the thought of him got her
"Shut up" she said very lightly pushing his head as she couldn't reach his shoulder in retaliation before hiding her face in her hands
"Don't worry I think it's hot how much you love the thought of me" he said pinching her clit before replacing his fingers with his tongue while his hand went up to cup her breast over her bra
"If you don't hurry up and make me cum I'm going to knock on someone else's hotel door and see if they'll be able to" she said trying not to break character which is easier said than done when logan sargeant is eating you out as an apology
"Oh fuck don't stop" she threw her head back and kept his hand in place that had made its way into the cup of her bra and was toying with her nipple
"You're all mouth Y/l/n" he laughed as he came up for air face glistening in the lamp light
It only took logan no more than 4 more minutes of the combination of rolling her clit in one of his hands while the other toyed with her nipple and his tongue rapidly ate her out not caring about how much noise the pair were making
"Am I forgiven?" He laughed not bothering to wipe the evidence off of his mouth
"Only if you dick me down in the next 30 seconds" she breathlessly laughed as she pulled him into a sloppy kiss full of teeth and gums not caring about the taste of herself on his tongue or lips
She held his face in her hands as they continued to make out while he made quick of getting his trousers and boxers down his legs and stroking himself quickly before asking if they needed to use any protection as he couldn't remember if he had any left
"Just pull out or pay for a plan b tomorrow" she said putting her faith in his reaction speed
"So all I had to was ask you to be my girlfriend and I'm allowed to hit it raw?" Logan said eyes wide imagining all the times he wished he could go raw
He lined himself up and pushed in slowly while he watched her arms sling around his shoulders as her head lolled back and her back arched as she moaned
When he bottomed out and thought how he'd never get used to how snug her walls were around him his mouth agape as he realised how hard it would be and how much mental strength it would take him to not cum inside her . Especially when she raised her head to look at him and she looked in such a state of bliss as she bit her bottom lip as to not let a moan out from him just being inside her
"God please move" she begged as she tried to get closer to him by putting her legs over his shoulders to gain any friction or just anything but was met with no avail
And who was he to deny her that pleasure , his hips snapping into hers with such force he thanked God that he headboard wasn't near a wall because it would be making a rukus for the person on the other side
He let her lay there eyes closed and head back for a solid three minutes before he stopped thrusting in and had only the tip in which made her look up to figure out why he stopped, not before he cupped the back of her head and forced it to look down to where their bodies met
"You wanted me to fuck you so badly that you flew all the way here and yet you don't have the decency to watch what you begged me for" he scoffed as he resumed thrusting his grip not faltering on her head to make sure she was watching what he was doing
Oh how they hoped no one was around to hear any of this
For the remaining days that they were both staying at the same resort they fucked like rabbits and on evert surface you could imagine , having to have condoms delivered to their hotel rooms as they couldn't stay away from each other for long enough to go buy some
Unfortunately for them , there had been a room switch as two of the boys they were there with had gotten in an argument and didn't want to share a room anymore so polite Oscar swapped and had a room the other side of logans wall , where he heard alot of the facetime calls he had late at night to god knows who and when he was fucking who he thought was some random girl he picked up from the island they were on . He chose not to say anything until he heard room service deliver something to Logans room next door and heard Y/ns voice answer the door and thank the person giving them the food which made him swing the door open and knock on the door ready to demand answers
"Where is she?" Oscar asked
"Who?" Logan replied
"The girl who answered the door two seconds ago"
"Why"
"Because she sounded exactly like Y/n who I told you countless time you'd hate fuck , so where is she?" He said not bothering to beat around the Bush
He had no excuse to get himself out of this one so just pointed in the direction of the bathroom" Don't tell her you heard us she'd be so embarrassed"
Oscar strode over to the bathroom and knocked . No longer than a second later Y/n opened the door sheepishly knowing she'd been caught
"How long have you guys been hiding this from me?"
"Not long , we only became official today,but-"
"How long have you been fucking" he asked not sure if it was an appropriate topic
Y/n looked to logan to see if she could actually tell him how long it'd been . With the nod of his head she mentally tried to remember the first time " post season testing" she said
"Wait, is that why they couldn't find you guys that day?"
"Didn't know they were looking , but yeah I guess"
" I have alot of people to collect bet money from , have you announced anything yet or are you keeping it a secret?" He asked wanting to know when he would get his cash flow
"Were not sure yet , probably going to give it a few months before telling people"
"Thats fair , how long is Y/n staying with you then?"
"I've got like 3 days left before I go back to America and hopefully catch up on a year's worth of sleep" she laughed
"Based from what I've heard from the other side of that wall , you definitely aren't getting any sleep here" he laughed
"Oscar!" She said slapping his chest in embarrassment
#formula 1#f1#formula one#logan sargeant#formula 1 x reader#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant smut
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The Root Of The Apple
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Why is Megumi at your parents house warming party? And why is he such a psycho? Daddy issues, of course!
boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro
WARNINGS : 18+, panic attack, mental health issues, alcohol consumption, drug taking, bullying, drugging mention, bladder failure mention, marking mention, family drama.
WORDS : 5.8k
notes : two years years with hindsight i should not have added toji bc i want to fuck him so desperately 😭
LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER
Unlike your hellish few days, Megumi’s were uneventful. After he choked you in the club, he took a cab home. His sister Tsumiki was fussing over him, much to his chagrin. She asked how his night went, if he had a good time, if he kissed any girls. She thought she was hilarious, but Megumi found her to be nothing but a nuisance.
He hates that he was trapped with her until he finishes university, being unable to move out from under her over protective thumb is painful for him. Tsumiki is invasive, irritating, and too God damn happy. And what’s worse, she’s not his real sister. He’ll never think of her as such, to him, Tsumiki is a means to an end.
He hates her. He hates his whole God damn family. But right now, right in this exact moment…
There’s nobody he hates more than you.
While you were still in a drug infused sleep, Megumi’s Wednesday was different. He went on as if everything was normal, he got a ride to university from Tsumiki. It’s rare she has the time to take him since she is usually at work.
He found the entire day dull. It pained him to admit it to himself, but he supposes part of him missed you. He was blissfully unaware of your coma-like state, he smiled into the pencil he was chewing in his mouth as he imagined that you’re terrified to come back to school for fear of seeing him. It gave him a sick sort of power trip, knowing what he’d done to you, what he’s doing to you.
He’s sick.
But it’s okay that he’s sick, because he knows.
He knows he’s fucked up, and everything he’s doing to you is fucked up.
But Christ it’s fun.
Thursday is the same, although he’s grateful he gets to finish the school day earlier. But as he walks through the parking lot, he pauses when he doesn’t see Yuuji’s car in its usual spot. He didn’t think twice about it yesterday.
Of course perfect Yuuji would want to stay home and play the role of the doting boyfriend, protecting you from the big bad bully, wrapping you in cotton wool and shielding you from the world. But today is the second day Yuuji hasn’t been to school.
Megumi would never admit it out loud, but his blood ran cold at the thought that something terrible had happened.
He arrives home, his sister nowhere in sight. Megumi dumped his backpack and sprawled out on the couch. And against every voice in his head telling him not to, his resolve crumbles, and his thumbs involuntarily types your name into Facebook.
He couldn’t see much since you weren’t friends, but he thought he might be able to see if anyone had said something about what happened.
Alas, there was nothing.
He decides to try and put it to the back of his mind.
Within the hour, Tsumiki is home. She begins preparing dinner for the two of them. She waffles on about her boring, mundane workday. She hasn’t even realised that Megumi has his headphones on and is completely tuning her out. An eyebrow quirked on his face when a text came through to his phone.
Nina: Megumi omg baby we are in soooooo much trouble! 😳😟💘xxx
Megumi’s thumbs hover above the keyboard momentarily as he contemplates how he should reply. One thought ran through his mind.
Who the fuck is Nina?
It had to be one of those annoying sluts from his class. But was it the blonde or the redhead? They’re both practically the same save for the hair colour.
He can barely remember which one he fingered; he thinks it’s the blonde.
It had to be her, surely the other one wouldn’t be so bold as to call him baby. He shudders and gags as he thinks of the pet name. The more he debates formulating a reply, he opts to not bother.
Megumi technically didn’t do anything wrong.
Hours pass, it's close to 1am. Tsumiki never normally stays up this late, but she has the day off tomorrow and was enjoying watching movies with Megumi.
Well, she thought they were watching together.
Megumi is just in the room playing on his phone, pretending she didn’t exist, as usual. Just as he was about to go upstairs, the siblings both startle at the sound of an ominously loud knock. Tsumiki looks at him, as if to ask if he was expecting anyone. He shakes his head in response, so she gets up and looks through the peep hole.
She gasps, and opens the door quickly after she’d spotted who was outside.
Megumi isn’t ashamed to admit that his stomach drops when he realises the police are at his door. And the disappointed look in Tsumiki’s eyes as she hears them ask if Megumi Fushiguro is home make his insides churn. She welcomes them in, clearing space for them to sit on the sofa.
Megumi sits down next to her, she wraps an unwelcome arm around him, a sign of solidarity.
“There’s been a serious allegation made against you Megumi.” one of the officers speaks. Megumi hears his sister’s breath hitch, but he clears his throat and tries to remain calm.
“In regard to what? I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” he answers simply. The officers look at each other quickly before giving him their attention once again, as if they’ve already decided he's guilty.
“A classmate of yours has accused you and two others of drugging her in the early hours of Wednesday morning. Do you know anything about that?” the policeman asks. Megumi does his best to stay composed, shaking his head in response.
“Megumi would never—”
“Please don’t interrupted miss.” the other policeman speaks. Tsumiki bites her tongue as she sinks back in her seat. His attention focuses back on Megumi before he starts flipping through a notebook. “This young woman was in a terrible state. I won’t go into too many details, but she was publicly humiliated and has been unconscious for the last two days.” he explains. Megumi’s jaw bubbles as he tried to supress his emotions, Tsumiki’s hands cover her mouth in horror as her ears digest the information. She leans forwards timidly, as if to ask permission to speak.
“I- sorry, what do you mean by publicly humiliated?” she wonders.
The officer clears his throat, unsure whether he should say. The other nods, wanting to fill them in. Megumi knew their little game. They think if they tug at his heartstrings and make him feel guilty, his emotions will give him away. He didn’t know what happened after he left; he told the girls that the drug will be enough to make her embarrass herself.
“When she was discovered on the bathroom floor in the club, we were informed that she had urinated and vomited on herself on account of the drugging.” they explain.
Megumi has to do everything in his power to supress his laughter.
He knew you’d find a way to make a fool of yourself when it was in your system, but that really cut the cake.
“That’s awful.” Tsumiki says softly.
“As well as that,” the officer speaks again, commanding the sibling’s attention, “the t-shirt she’d worn that night appeared to be cut open with a pair of scissors. We could tell from the CCTV from the night of the incident that someone had written the word 'bitch' across her body. According to the woman’s partner it was written in lipstick.” he tells them.
Megumi managed to keep composed, although he was seething. Those idiot incompetent girls could be the undoing of him. He specifically told them that they had nothing else to do other than slip the pill in your drink. Their petty jealousy had clearly gotten the better of them, and it could fuck them all up well and truly.
Tsumiki gasps when she hears the final sentence from the officer. She assures them that Megumi could never do anything so horrible. They look at him, and he knew he had to speak.
“I don’t know anything about that. I left earlier than most, I got a cab. My sister was awake when I got back, and I’m sure the CCTV can prove that I wasn’t there.” he tells them calmly.
“How do you know you were gone before it happened?” the officer asks, feeling clever, feeling like he trapped Megumi in a lie.
“Because you said it was the early hours of Wednesday morning. I had left the club by 11:30pm, like I said, the CCTV will be able to prove I left early. This incident has nothing to do with me,” Megumi stands to his feet, knowing he’s won and has no interest in carrying on the discussion anymore. The policemen knew as well as he did that it was your word against his, he feels untouchable. “Whoever she is, I hope you can get some justice for her.” he tells them, smugly. His sister beams up at him with so much pride. Her little brother is so good, so respectable, he’s perfect in her eyes.
If only she knew.
She shows the men out of their home, requesting he get in touch if he remembers anything that might help their case. Megumi finally retreats to the safety of his bedroom, feeling cocky and proud of himself for slithering his way through your feeble attempt to get him arrested. He feels like a god. He feels invincible. An electric excitement jolts through him as he wonders when he might see you next.
What he can do to you next.
Friday brings another uneventful day, he really fucking misses you.
It sounds more romantic than it is.
Maybe it is, in some twisted way, treat them mean to keep them keen.
And he is downright vile to you. He doesn’t feel anything but pure unadulterated hatred for you. You’re too fucking nice, like his sister. No one is that nice. The way you felt compelled to compliment his art whenever you had the audacity to lean over and observe his sketchbook. And every time you did it, it was pictures of him. He thinks he hates you the most. And then when he remembers that man, that scumbag, he takes first place. If you could have just shut your fucking mouth, if you didn’t feel so compelled to start talking about those pictures of him, maybe you wouldn’t be paying the price now.
Megumi arrives home from his boring school day and kicks the door shut behind him with his foot. He's furious. The combination of his hatred for you and his father is too much. All he wants to do is go to his room, get changed and head outside for a few hours to clear his head. But when Tsumiki stops him from going to his room, he just about bites her head off.
“What?!” he barks. The volume makes her jump, but she simply smiles as she prepares to speak.
“Dad called.” she told him.
“My dad. Don’t say dad as if he’s your dad too. What did he want?” he moans at her. Her smile pulls downwards into a frown at his rude and hurtful words. She was about to answer him again, but before she can she's interrupted by the creaking of stairs. The siblings look to the source, and Megumi’s blood boils at the sight.
“That’s no way to talk to your sister.” Toji speaks. He’s just showered. He's wearing some grey joggers and his chest is bare, he's in the middle of the process of pulling a shirt over his head. His shirt clung to his water-soaked body in all of the right places, it's almost a little pornographic considering how innocent of an act it was.
His children almost didn’t want to look at him because it's so unintentionally erotic. Although Megumi doesn’t like to look at him anyway. “It’s been a while son. You don’t mind if I take him for a drive do you Tsumiki? Got some things I wanna talk to ‘im about.” Toji smiles at the young woman who nods enthusiastically.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Megumi spits.
“I wasn’t fuckin’ askin’ so get your scrawny ass in the car and stop bitchin’ at me.” Toji commands, walking ahead and leaving through the front door.
What Megumi hates most about Toji is no matter how much he hates him, how much he knows he’ll never change, he still – for some unknown reason – craves his approval. He knew his son would follow him through the door, that’s why he didn’t wait for him to start moving his feet. Because within seconds, Megumi is following him through that very same front door.
The silence in the car is deafening.
Toji is feeling the need to drag out whatever it is he wants to discuss, and Megumi has absolutely no desire to make idle chit-chat with his piece of shit father. The new car doesn’t go unnoticed. Megumi can feel his blood bubbling with rage through his veins.
When Megumi’s mother died, Toji went off the rails and he brought Megumi right along with him.
He was a downright mess. He drank, he did drugs, anything to forget. And Megumi didn’t understand. All he knew was that he lost his mother, and his daddy wasn’t his daddy anymore.
Toji could barely stomach looking at him, he reminded him too much of his dead wife. Although he found a new wife to go off the rails with, and that’s how Tsumiki entered the fray.
They were both terrible for each other and they fed off each other’s toxicity. Megumi couldn’t bear to look at his father without reliving his trauma, his unresolved resentment coursing through his fragile skin.
He understood that his father was hurting, but he was too. He lost his mother. And instead of taking care of his son, being there for him, helping him heal. He found a new wife, narcotics, and shady ways of making money. That was more important than being a dad, apparently, and this new car, his new set of wheels that reeked of money and sin, makes his body fail him.
Megumi isn’t sad. He's never sad. What he's feeling right now, some may call a broken heart. But not him. To Megumi, the way his heart feels being in such close proximity to his father is different.
It didn’t feel broken. It feels shredded.
It feels like it has been wrapped in barbed wire, and when he was near this pathetic excuse of a human being it did all it could to bulge out of its piercing prison. Chunks escaped, sure, but they were destroyed. The rest of his heart is stained, bruised and pouring blood. He couldn’t bear it.
Megumi couldn’t bear it.
“Let me out,” Megumi speaks, his breathing intensifying. His chest rising and falling rapidly.
“What? Kid, stop bein’ a bra—”
“Dad! Stop the car!” he screams. He stares at his father, begging him to listen to him.
When Toji looks over to where his son is seated, he doesn’t recognise who he's looking at. Snot and tears dribble down his face. His eyes are puffy and red, totally bloodshot. His white irises cracked with red uncomfortable veins that made Toji’s heart stop for a brief second.
This isn’t Megumi. Megumi doesn’t get like this, he’s never seen him like this. But what has Toji seen him like? He’s seen gloomy, stoic Megumi.
That’s all he sees on his fleeting visits.
Toji pulls the car over and Megumi scarpers out as quickly as he can. Toji takes his time turning off the car, finding a pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment before stepping out to tend to his child. He approaches him slowly. Wallet, phone and keys all rested skilfully in one hand.
Megumi doubles over, clear vomit evading the pit of his stomach. Toji grimaces at the sight, what the hell was wrong with him? His son is trembling, still. When he isn’t vomiting he's taking in sharp, heavy breaths, he almost sounds like he's screaming.
The desperation in his inhales are so eerie, like someone dragging a sharp knife down a windowpane.
Megumi is disgusted with himself.
It's all too much for him, reminiscing on his childhood and the closure he’d never get. The fact that his father thinks he’s allowed to pop into his life if and when he chooses.
He expects Megumi to drop everything and anything he’s doing to spend time with him and do as he’s told.
And the worst part? He does it.
He fights him every step of the way, but still, he does it.
Why does he do it? He hates him. Toji knows he hates him, too. Every conversation they have is surface level toleration or a heated argument. But Toji knows, no matter what, Megumi wants to please his father. Because he left him to fend for himself, he left him without a friend in the world. So, whenever Megumi gets the chance, he wants to prove himself to his father.
That’s why.
Megumi needs his father’s approval.
“The fuck’s wrong with you kid? Panic attack?” Toji questions as he towers above his son.
Megumi collapses onto his backside, mouth agape as he manages to calm himself down. He wants to rip his dad’s throat out for talking to him like that. But he doesn’t have the energy. He just can’t.
“Shut up, Toji.” he commands, making his father roll his eyes. An act of petty defiance, to call him by his name instead of dad. It doesn’t bother Toji, he couldn’t care less. He knows he’s a shit dad, he didn’t sign up for it anyway. He doesn’t care, he probably never will.
“Get up, there’s a coffee shop over there I’ll get you some water.” he tells him, hoping the offer will be enough to entice him off the ground.
Megumi blanks him though, still focusing on his breathing and trying to coax himself into feeling better so he can go home. Toji isn’t a man who likes to be ignored, Megumi is lucky he’s his kid right now. Anyone else would be in for a world of hurt.
But instead, Toji slowly raises his foot off the ground. He inches his dirty dust clad shoe closer to his boy’s face. Megumi side eyes the muddy soled loafer, piercing green eyes threatening him to back off.
However, Megumi forgets who he inherited those intimidating emerald orbs from.
Toji doesn’t take lightly to threats, and he hasn’t gotten where he is by being frightened by a simple look. His filthy shoe is millimetres from Megumi’s face, “I said get up kid.” and with Megumi ignoring him yet again, Toji has to make good on his threat. He gently kicks the bottom of his foot into his son’s face. Megumi grabs his ankle and pushes him away, springing to his feet soon after to ball his fists in his dad’s shirt.
“Why the fuck are you here now? What do you want? You only come when you want something so out with it.” Megumi hisses, his face mere inches from his dad’s. Toji raises his hand in surrender with that signature shit-eating grin on his face. But Megumi’s fists grasp harder, for the first time in his life he feels strong. Stronger than him. He shoves him backwards and pins him against the car. “What do you want Toji?!”
Toji, however, is over this little game. Megumi never has been, and never will be, stronger than him. He’d never hurt his son. He does love him, in his own fucked up way. He’s his after all. But he doesn’t love him enough to let him disrespect him in his quest for validation and superiority. He grabs his junior by the base of the neck, removing his sunglasses and peering intensely into his child’s eyes. Fear shudders through Megumi, and he lets go. But Toji doesn’t.
“Get in the fuckin’ car. Dumbass. I’ll go get you a drink,” and with that he releases Megumi from his grip, crossing the road seamlessly. Commanding the traffic around him to stop as he approaches the coffee shop.
Megumi gets into the car. It’s hot. Fuck, it’s hot. His breathing is intensifying again. He hastily removes his jacket with shaky hands.
His father has only been gone for a few minutes, but his gaze is flitting between the windscreen window and the coffee shop. He balls his jacket up and shoves his face into it, screaming all of the air in his lungs out into the material. He just screams. It feels like he can’t stop, the oxygen will never be out of him.
He needs it out, he needs to breathe out this day, this experience.
But he can’t.
It’s lingering in his lungs, itching away at him. Little spindly legs crawling around inside of him like spiders, biting and tapping inside of him searching for a way out.
There’s no way out. He can’t breathe. He wants to rip his fucking heart out and let his dad drive and reverse over it until it’s unrecognisable.
His head drops between his knees, his hands interlocking behind his head trapping tufts of his unruly onyx locks.
He startles a little when his father opens the car door and sits behind the wheel. Toji could swear he saw him jump a little again when he slams the door shut behind him.
“Here,” his dad speaks, holding two bottles out to him. Megumi peers up to see them. One is water, and the other is a chilled glass bottle of beer. Why did he get him this? “Might steady yer fuckin’ nerves. What happened to you? Never seen y’like this before,” Toji states, not expecting a direct answer from Megumi, but daring to ask anyway.
Megumi twists the plastic cap off his water bottle. He doesn’t sip, he gulps. And he gulped, and gulped, and gulped, until the plastic bottle was contorting and creasing as he sucked the air out and his heavy fist gripped tighter around the soft material. Toji offers a teasing ‘think ya got it’ hoping it would make Megumi give up trying to get the last lingering droplets out of the plastic container.
He was right, he did get it.
It just isn’t enough. It does nothing to drown that unbearable itch inside of him. So, he slouched back in his seat, at least a little calmer for having something else to focus on.
“I’m fucked up.”
And he laughs.
It's manic. If you could see him now, God if you could see what a pathetic miserable shell he is right now.
It’s symbolic really, how insanely he’s laughing. You’d actually see a similarity between the two of you. He was almost laughing as insanely as you had been as you destroyed his artwork, probably more so.
He's unhinged. And for the first time in his life, he thinks Toji is scared. His face hurts from the way his cheeks are pulling as he laughs. If he was normal, his stomach would be aching. Because that’s what is meant to happen when people laugh. Right? When people truly laugh at something, you feel it in your belly. But fuck, Megumi isn’t normal.
He’s breaking apart.
Toji grabs his shoulder, and in an instant the laughter stops. Megumi’s face turns, his eyes snap to find his father’s matching ones. His smile is gone, but his eyebrow quivers as he studies his father’s features.
“Oh, fuck, scared you huh?” Megumi asks. Toji scoffs and lets go of him, starting the car up to drive away instead. But before he does, he takes his sons beer bottle between his teeth and bites the lid off. He spits it down on the floor of his car beneath him and gives it to Megumi. And Megumi drinks it, seeming to enjoy the taste.
That’s doing it.
That’s drowning his demons.
His attention is back on Toji as he’s driving.
And looking at him now, that is the father he knows.
He’s just driving as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like his son hasn’t just totally snapped before his very eyes. He’s snapped already, so why not push him a little more. Megumi punches his arm, causing Toji’s steering to waver.
“Stupid little idiot, fucks wrong with you? Don’t fuckin’ touch me while I’m drivin’.” he barks at his son. But he doesn’t stop. He punches him again, again and again. He slams harshly on the breaks, engulfing his sons whole face in one fist. He smothers his face and forcefully pushes him back into the passenger side door. “Hey! Did I fuckin’ stutter?”
“Did I fuckin’ scare you dad? You looked a little concerned you piece of shit! Ya fuckin’ deadbeat…” Megumi yells, fighting back the tears that were building, slithering behind his eyes threatening to spill at any moment.
“Pfft. Grow up Megumi. You’re not fifteen anymore,”
“Yeah, I was fucked up then never mind now.” Megumi spits at him.
“God, shut up.” Toji seethes as he softly slaps Megumi on the side of his face, pointing to the tip of his nose, demanding his attention. “You’re not fucked up. You’re fine. Y’think everyone doesn’t get like this? Y’think I never get like this? I wanna rip my fuckin’ skin off when I think about how fucked everything is for too long.” he tells his son sternly, trying to be calm but firm with him.
“You—” Megumi manages to croak out before Toji interrupts.
“Yeah, me. I fuckin’ left you. Never said sorry did I? Would you believe me if I said I was sorry? I don’t know if I am kid, that’s the problem. Had to fuckin’ split, couldn’t handle it. But if it helps, sure. I’m sorry. It was fucked.” Toji tells him.
Megumi is in awe.
This is the most they’d ever talked in their lives. Everything they discuss is surface level pleasantries that are meaningless. And he apologised. He can’t apologise. He’s said the word sorry but the itch is still there. He doesn’t mean it, he said himself he doesn’t mean it. This can’t be it, this can’t be everything Megumi has been waiting to hear to fix him. Anger and resentment he’s clung onto for so long, dying as he awaited the moment he’d finally get an apology or an explanation.
And this was it.
This was all he’d waited for, and it wasn’t good enough. It’ll never be good enough. He’s going to be stuck with this itch for the rest of his life.
“Are you kidding me? You think that’s good enough?” Megumi questions, fists balled as he argues with himself whether to punch Toji again. “I’m sorry, but I’m not really sorry because I had too. Huh, asshole? You really think that’s good enough?!” Megumi bellows, lip quivering as he clenches his teeth together.
“Don’tcha get it? Idiot. Nothing I say’ll ever be good enough. I fuckin’ left you alone after your mother died. Whether I mean it or not, it won’t stop fuckin’ hurtin’ kid. You got more than I ever did. The Zen’in used to lock me up and beat the shit out of me.” he angles the right side of his face and points to the scar on his lip, “they gave me this for the pleasure, think I ever got a fuckin’ sorry? No. Fake or sincere, nothin’. Think holdin’ a grudge is gonna fix anything?”
Megumi has been vibrating with anger the entire conversation.
All he wants to do was smash the glass of beer he has and stab the jagged shards into Toji’s neck. He's furious.
There is some truth to his words, sure, but he's so fucking casual. Like Megumi is meant to take everything he's saying as gospel, accepting it as absolute truth and living his life by them from now on.
He’s been vibrating with anger through the entire conversation, until he thought of you. He can’t smile; but his clenching jaw relaxes when visions of you enter his mind.
It's just as well, Toji thinks if he clenched any harder his son’s teeth would smash to pieces. It was something Toji said that made him think of you.
Think holdin’ a grudge is gonna fix anything?
No. But it helps. He’s sure you’d have the same thought process as Toji, you’d be desperate to end the vendetta Megumi has against you. But if he didn’t hate his father, if he didn’t hate you, how else would he cope?
How else would he control the itch?
Megumi allows his body to go limp, looking over to Toji with a side-eye glance. He huffs, allowing his chest to rise and fall in one heavy dramatic breath.
“What do you want, dad?”
Toji kisses his teeth, contemplating how to speak. How to ask. But Megumi has honestly had enough of fucking around today, dancing around subjects and rowing with each other. He just wants to know, and that is something Toji could plainly see in his son’s defeated body. So, he comes right out and says it, not wanting to beat around the bush.
“Tomorrow,” he begins, looking around at everything in the car other than his son. But his gaze settles, their emerald eyes meeting once again. “There’s a big shindig, all of the Zen’in are goin’. You need to be there.”
And that’s how Megumi found himself in a town car on his way to your parent’s new manor home.
Toji didn’t offer him a ride, of course.
Megumi suspects his father will be feeling uncomfortable after their argument yesterday, but in reality Toji is having a good parenting moment. He felt it necessary to give his son some space to cool down after their heated conversation.
The closer the car got to the ridiculously enormous manor; butterflies joined the itching in the pit of Megumi’s stomach. He tries to clear his throat and take deep breaths, but it wasn’t helping.
He fishes around in his inside jacket pockets. He pulls out a mirror from the right pocket and a baggie of cocaine and a razor from the other.
The car slows as it pulls into the gates, manoeuvring around the intricate landscaping. He takes the opportunity to make a white powdery line atop the mirror resting on his lap. He doesn’t care what the driver thinks of him, he’s sure Toji does the same if not worse whenever he's in here.
He snorts it, slowly. It’s been a while since he’s let this be a vice of his.
Megumi isn’t stupid, no, he’s careful. He will be careful with his vices. But when the car stops below the staircase that lead to the daunting double doors, he sags back into the plush leather seats of the car.
“D’ya mind if I just wait here for a minute?” Megumi asks, the man shakes his head, much to Megumi’s delight.
It’s been a while since he’s been to a Zen’in get together. When he and Tsumiki moved away, he managed to avoid them and Toji like the plague.
It's harrowing, really, that he had to walk into a strangers home, alone. To see a family who did nothing but chastise and disapprove. A family he barely knew but still felt it necessary to try and control aspects of his life and look down on each and every little thing he did.
But he relaxes. He wipes his nose of the white dust and takes a deep breath. He gets out of the car, slamming it aggressively behind him. He ascended the stairs. Breathing shallow breaths as he prepares himself for the hell he's about to endure.
He rests his finger on the doorbell, he can’t seem to take his finger off it. Air is knocked from his lungs when the door opens, almost being ripped from its hinges.
What the fuck are you two doing here?
He can’t help but stare, completely in awe at the sight. You’re looking at him differently, like you know him. Like you’ve had a look into the window of his damaged soul.
What the fuck are you staring at?
Megumi clears his throat, and you're staring soon turns to dismay, irritation. Megumi thinks you’re just processing what is happening, the unlikely coincidence of it all.
Are you still scared of him?
Terrified of what he’ll do to you?
Or are you safe now, because dear old Yuji is here?
Megumi takes in the sight of both of you, but drinks up the vision of you. He can’t believe it. You’re really here. He opens his mouth, smiling sadistically, knowing whatever he does will get a reaction out of you.
“Well well, what do we have here?” Megumi questions, crossing his arms across his chest as he waits for a response.
Yuuji looks feral, like he wants to skin him alive. It’s sad, really, that his best friend has let a useless cunt come between them. Megumi won’t disown him, but he knows Yuuji won’t claim him as his friend anymore. He’ll always be Megumi’s. Yuuji pulls your hand to bring you closer to his body. He’s sure Yuuji can feel you shaking like a frightened lamb against him, because even from this distance, Megumi can see it.
“Get out of the way Fushiguro,” Yuuji demands, holding your body as tightly as he can to give you the feeling of safety you’re so desperate for.
But of course, Megumi doesn’t move.
He doesn’t sidestep to allow you past.
He just stares. And Yuuji’s temper flares when he stops staring at you both, but through you. Because a dastardly grin stretches across Megumi’s pretty face.
While Yuuji is staring, shaking and furious, while you’re trembling, terrified and on the brink of tears, he sees who he can only assume are the owners of the house, who he can only assume are your parents, are walking through the foyer and approaching you. It’s like he’s watching a movie in slow motion. And it just gets better when his own dad lollygags behind them, leaning on a doorframe further down the hall as he watches your mother and father chase after you.
Megumi knows you’re not going anywhere.
Megumi knows your parents will beg, plead for you to stay. What will people say if you leave the party earlier? They’ll be the talk of high society. A simple, elegant party couldn’t go off without a hitch because their selfish daughter ruined it all.
No.
That’s not you.
The few brief days he’s known you, something he can see about you is clear. You, perfect, sweet girl, are a people pleaser.
Megumi’s smiling. And he’s smiling hard.
Because you aren’t going anywhere.
© 2021 fuwushiguro | © 2023 fuwushiguro
#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#megumi angst#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#fushiguro megumi angst#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#yuji itadori#yuuji itadori#itadori yuuji#itadori yuji#yuuji smut#yuuji itadori smut#yuuji x reader#yuuji x you#yuuji x y/n#itadori yuuji smut#yuuji itadori x reader#yuuji itadori x you#tw bullying#bully megumi#tw panic attack#tw drug use
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9.2 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of past cheating.
Word Count: 2.3k
Previously On...: Bucky and Lily had a conversation. Now Lily knows you and Bucky are dating.
A/N: Sorry this is late; I had to clean out my office after hours today. It was... an experience, to say the least :/
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
“I think you’re a fucking idiot,” your best friend, Hannah Santiago, said to you as you sat in the coffee shop across the street from The WarZone. She had been furious with you when you hadn’t answered her texts all weekend, so you promised her a lunch date to catch her up on your last few days in the company of one Bucky Barnes.
She did not appear to be taking it very well.
“Why?” you asked, mildly insulted. “He’s amazing, Han. I think you’ll really like him when you get to know him.”
Hannah rolled her eyes at you. “Oh, I’m sure he’s a peach,” she agreed with just a hint of sarcasm. “Though I’d probably feel better about it if you got to know him, too, before shacking up with him for days on end!”
“It’s NRE,” you told her, as if that perfectly explained the intense connection you felt you shared with Bucky. “That New Relationship Energy.”
“Oh my god,” Hannah groaned. “Get off of TikTok. You’re too fucking old for that shit.” A mother at the next table over with an infant in a stroller gave her a disapproving look and audibly tsked at her, but Hannah just responded with a glare.
“It’s great for marketing,” you grumbled.
“Look,” Hannah conceded with a sigh, “I’m sure this guy is wonderful, really. But (Y/N), sweetie, you haven’t had a serious relationship since you and Connor split.” You opened your mouth to protest, despite knowing she was right, but Hannah silenced you with a look. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to get back out there; lord knows it's past time– I just want you to be smart about it and not rush into anything headfirst with someone you barely know.”
Logically, of course, you knew Hannah was right. “He suggested we should put a pause on having sex so we can focus on getting to know each other better,” you offered.
Hannah raised a well-manicured eyebrow. “Okay, that’s interesting,” she said. “Especially if it was as good as you said it was.”
You dropped your chin into your hand as you rested your elbow against the table and sighed dreamily. “Hannah, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I swear, I don’t even know if I can call anything Connor ever gave me an actual orgasm after then things Bucky’s done to my body.”
The mother at the next table muttered something about “inappropriate talk” under her breath, but loud enough that you both could hear her.
“Last time I checked,” Hannah said pointedly at you, though projecting her voice so that you knew it was actually for the other woman’s benefit, “‘inappropriate’ speech is still free speech. So sue me, please.”
You rolled your eyes good naturedly. As a First Amendment litigator, Hannah took Freedom of Speech extremely seriously. “Han,” you warned. “Let it go. This isn’t a courtroom.”
“Fine,” your friend said, ignoring the mother as she stood up and walked away with her stroller. “I’m just worried about you,” she said. “The last time you jumped headfirst into a relationship without really knowing the guy, you ended up married for nine years.”
You hated that she was right– you did have a track record of impulsive relationship decisions. “I appreciate you looking out for me,” you offered, reaching out to squeeze Hannah’s hand across the table.
“So, do you really see this turning into a long term thing?” Hannah asked, genuinely curious. “Because I’ll support you if you do; I’ll just tell you I told you so if it all falls apart at your feet.”
“I think I do,” you told her, choosing to ignore her jab about rubbing failure in your face. “I know it’s early, but… I’m happy when I’m with him. There’s just the one issue with his–” You paused, not quite sure you wanted to divulge the Lily-sized elephant in your relationship with Bucky just yet.
“One issue with what?” Hannah asked. “And you better not say ‘nothing,’ otherwise I will use my cross examination skills against you,” she threatened.
Having no desire to subject yourself to that, you relented. “It’s just… he’s got this female best friend–”
“Oh, hell no!” Hannah said, loudly enough to attract the attention of most of the other coffee shop patrons. “Nope, we are not doing this, (Y/N). I will not stand by and watch you go through that all over again.”
Truthfully, this was the reaction you had been expecting. “I’m not the same person I was back then, Han,” you protested. “Bucky’s not Connor, and Lily’s not Danielle.”
You understood your friend’s anger on your behalf. When Connor had promised you there was nothing between him and his childhood best friend, Danielle, you’d naively believed him, despite the gnawing sensation in your gut that told you something wasn’t right with their relationship. It was years before the instinct grew enough to convince you to look at his phone and you had found thousands of text messages between the two of them. You’d promptly thrown up.
His reaction had been textbook. At first, he tried to gaslight you– you didn’t see what you thought you saw; you were taking innocent conversations out of context (though, you weren’t sure how much context the exchanging of nudes really needed). Then, he tried to shift the blame on you– you were never around, always away on deployment or assignments. You emasculated him by getting promoted again and again, until you outranked him, and how was he supposed to live with that? Finally, he love bombed you, showering you with compliments and praise, begging you to forgive him, making promises you knew he would never keep, telling you he’d do anything to get you to stay.
Except for cutting off all contact with Danielle, apparently. He was willing to do anything, anything at all to regain your trust… just not the one thing you’d actually asked of him.
In the end, the divorce had been relatively straight forward. You weren’t stupid. You’d made sure to take screenshots of all of the text conversations between him and his mistress in case he deleted them. You’d even recorded the conversation you had with him when you confronted him, and he’d actually admitted to it.
There were a lot of things you had disliked about the United States Army, but their stance on cheating hadn’t been one of them. Connor had ended up demoted, and you were able to maintain all of your financial assets without having to shell out anything for spousal support, despite the fact that you had out-earned him by more than double.
As for Danielle? Well, you became an expert at giving her the cold shoulder and pretending like she didn’t exist.
“You never thought Connor would end up like Connor, either,” Hannah told you pointedly. “And yet.”
You sighed. Your friend had a point, you knew she did, but you just couldn’t imagine Bucky doing that to you.
“Look, I’m not trying to shit in your cornflakes,” Hannah said. “I love you and I’m worried about you. I don’t want to see you rush into something and make the same mistakes again. That’s all.”
“I know, I know,” you agreed. And you really did. Hannah had been your biggest source of support when your marriage had gone to hell. She’d set you up with your attorney, let you stay with her while your housing situation got sorted, and had been your shoulder to cry on all the nights you had too much to drink and swore you were going to die alone.
“Look, I promise to not jump into anything crazy,” you assured her. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
*
After saying your goodbyes to Hannah so she could return to her firm, you headed back over to The WarZone, hoping to get yourself absorbed in some work so you could get your mind off of Hannah’s worries before they became your worries, too. Natasha should be arriving shortly for her standing Tuesday appointment, and you were hoping to chat with her for a few minutes once she was done.
The bell above the entry door rang cheerfully as you pushed your way inside, but the atmosphere in the lobby felt unnaturally heavy. You looked up from your phone to see Rand leaning against the reception desk with his arms crossed, glaring at someone across the room, and Zadie trying to pretend to look busy at her computer.
You followed Rand’s gaze and locked eyes with Bucky. His giant frame was spread out across one of the lounge chairs, and he seemed to have been watching Rand with a puzzled sort of wariness. When he turned to look at you, though, a blinding smile broke across his face that made your knees feel weak.
“Hey, sugar,” he greeted, standing up and making his way toward you.
You moved to meet him halfway. “Hiya, Sarge,” you said, putting your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him hello. “I missed you.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye as his hands settled on your hips. “I just saw you yesterday.”
“Lotta lonely hours between then and now, Bucky,” you told him evocatively, toying your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.
The loud sound of a clearing throat brought your attention back to Rand, who was looking at you in disbelief. “Really?” he asked.
“Oh, sorry–” you said, purposefully ignoring Rand’s meaning. “Where are my manners? Bucky, this is my office assistant, Zadie–” Zadie waved enthusiastically from her perch behind the reception desk, “-- and my Midtown location manager, Rand. Guys,” you said, taking an excited breath, “this is Bucky.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Bucky,” Zadie said enthusiastically, and you knew the orchid and note he had sent you on Saturday had definitely won her over to his side. “Major’s told us so much about you.”
“Yeah,” added Rand through gritted teeth, “we’ve heard an awful lot about you, Mr. Barnes.” You shot him a look, silently pleading for him to be nice, or at least remove himself before he said something offensive.
“It’s nice to meet you both, as well,” Bucky said, ever the gentleman. He made to move, and you highly suspected he was going to try to shake hands with them. While you had no doubt Zadie would be friendly, you wouldn’t put it past Rand to just be a dick for the hell of it, so you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s midsection and drew yourself toward him, keeping him in place.
“So,” you began, hoping to distract him from your manager’s open hostility, “to what do I owe the pleasure? Because it is a pleasure to see you, especially when unexpected.”
Bucky smiled and moved a hand to brush a lock of hair away from your face. “Nat mentioned she was coming down for her weekly visit,” he said. “She invited me to come join her; thought I’d like to check out the place for myself.” He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially: “And if I just so happened to run into this pretty girl I’ve had my eye on, well, that would be a bonus.”
His words made your insides dance, leaving you feeling like a giddy teenager. “You’ll have to let me know if she shows up, Sarge,” you teased. “I’ll try to put a good word in for you.”
“You’d do that for me? Thanks, doll,” he grinned.
“Of course, handsome. Where is Nat, anyway?” you asked. The redhead hadn’t been in the lobby when you came in.
“She had to take a phone call. Avengers stuff,” Bucky offered with a shrug. “She shouldn’t be too long.”
As if on cue, the main door opened and Natasha breezed into the lobby. She caught sight of you and Bucky with your arms around one another immediately and threw a knowing smirk your way. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she said. She turned to Bucky and rolled her eyes. “Fury had some questions about the last mission that apparently couldn’t be saved for an email.”
“Fucking bureaucracy,” he muttered.
“Tell me about it.” Nat’s frown quickly transformed into delighted glee as she rubbed her hands together. “Alright, Barnes. You ready to fuck some shit up?”
“Oh,” chirped Zadie. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff; we didn’t have you down for a doubles’ room. Just your usual single.”
“Zadie, just move them to a VIP room,” you told your office assistant. You turned to Nat. “That should be more than big enough for the both of you.”
“They’re also significantly extra in price,” Rand interjected.
“Waive the fee,” you said.
“Sugar,” Bucky said, looking down at you, “that’s not necessary; we can pay the difference.”
“I’m not going to make my boy– er, um… my friends pay for an upgrade I offered them that they didn’t ask for. For fucks’ sake, Rand.” You hoped no one noticed your slipup, but the way Bucky was grinning down at you and squeezing your hip let you know it hadn’t gotten past him at all.
“No problem, Major,” Zadie said. “Room 5c is available and all ready to go.”
“I’m sure you’re busy being the big boss, doll,” Bucky said as you moved to escort him and Nat to the elevators. You’d be having a chat with Rand later. “But any chance you could join us? I’d really like my first time to be with you.”
“Oh my god,” gagged Natasha. “You’re pathetic, Barnes. Seriously. That was bad.”
“So bad,” you agreed with a laugh, “but it worked.” You grinned at the both of them. “Yeah, of course I’ll help you pop your rage room cherry.”
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