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assassinsblade · 2 days

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Lonesome

When you can't seem to find a place to belong, a tense exchange with Azriel has you shutting down.

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: Death (side character), grief, loneliness, angst

a/n: If you would like notifications for my writing, you can turn on notifications for the blog @assassinslibrary where I reblog all my fics!

The night had gone . . . okay.

A night with the inner circle. A night with games, drinks, friends, and fun.

Except you didn't have fun exactly. You weren't miserable, but you also hadn't enjoyed yourself. You were just there. In the background, observing and chuckling at the merriment around you.

While you had attempted to chime in every once in awhile, it seemed as though this family wasn't used to hearing you. Or maybe they were just preoccupied. Whatever reason, you kept to the shadows most of the night.

Unfortunately, the shadows were not where the shadowsinger had occupied.

Instead, he had found himself sat next to the middle Archeron sister, grinning at whatever she was quietly describing to him. You watched as his lips quirked, his dark eyelashes fanning over his sharp cheekbones. The spark in his eye as he watched her, the blush on her cheeks.

They had been flirting. All night.

Normally, this wouldn't have bothered you so much. It would have bothered you some, sure, seeing that you had been in love with Azriel for months now. But on a night like tonight, when you needed company and no one was paying attention to you, it hurt just a little bit more.

You had a patient pass earlier in the day--one you were close with, who you had been working on for months. She was young, close to your own age, and it twisted something inside of your soul losing her. It made you feel like a failure, like you had let her down, like you were at fault.

There was a hope inside of your chest when you had opened your bedroom door earlier to make your way to the living area. You had hoped that your friends could help wash away the guilt, self-hatred, and grief. Instead, you sat by yourself, watching as everyone else basked in their own happiness and relationships.

Except they weren't all those kind of relationships. Yet, at least. Nesta did have Cassian, and Feyre did have Rhysand, but Elain and Azriel weren't together currently. She was mated to Lucien despite her protests of the fact. You had tried to keep that in mind as you watched Azriel brush a piece of hair behind Elain's ear.

You, however, never had anyone really. You had grown up in an orphanage in Velaris with no siblings. It had always been difficult for you to make friends, and you thought you had made a friend of this boy named Mika, but he had ended up being controlling and aggressive. After being hurt one too many times, both physically and emotionally, you had tried to just keep to yourself to limit the damage.

And due to the physical damage you had taken in that relationship, you had found an interest in the medical field.

That was how Rhysand found you after you had opened a medical office in the center of Velaris for underprivileged citizens.

That had been a year ago and you still found yourself on the outside of everything. You had watched Azriel over those twelve months, observed the way he kept his family safe, the way he moved softly, rarely raised his voice, and always kept his touch gentle and smooth.

It seemed he never noticed anything about you, though, despite observation being the very thing that made him a shadowsinger.

Maybe it was something about yourself that made you nearly invisible. Invisible or unlikeable.

These thoughts continued to run through your mind as you sipped on your tea, knees curled into your chest on the couch. Everyone else had left about an hour ago, but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep with everything that had happened today.

You could still see the moment her eyes went blank, the last breath leaving her lungs. It had scarred something deep within you, from both losing a friend due to your own incompetence and from the reminder that you would die alone one day.

A shuffle from the opening of the room broke you from your thoughts. You slowly moved the teacup away from your lips, watching hesitantly as the male crossing your mind walked past the threshold.

He spotted you sitting there and gave you a polite smile before continuing on his way, feet moving swiftly toward the balcony.

You debated whether or not to let him go or if you could try to get him to keep you company. After all, you really needed someone right now. And his calm demeanor and reassuring presence was just what you were looking for.

Azriel had just been about to take off when you stepped out onto the balcony.

"Hey, Azriel."

The male turned at the sound of his voice, eyebrows raised in slight surprise. The action made you second guess yourself. Shouldn't he have heard you coming? Wouldn't his shadows have told him?

"Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, I-uh, was just wondering if you wanted to talk some. I have some more tea brewing. We haven't been able to get to know each other much yet, so--"

"Sorry, I'm meeting Elain. She wanted to go flying tonight."

Right. Of course.

You nodded. "Sure. Yeah, that makes sense, I guess."

He went to take a step toward the ledge again when you spoke up again. You didn't know what led you to saying these exact words; maybe it was the rough day, the heavy emotions in your chest, or your anger at everyone's disregard for you. But before you could stop it, you were taking a step forward in haste and the words were out of your mouth.

"Actually, do you really think that's a good idea?"

Azriel tensed, head turning slightly to look over his shoulder at you. "I'm sorry?"

You swallowed. He had stopped. That's what you wanted. "She's mated, isn't she? I saw you two tonight, and I don't think--"

"You don't think," Azriel laughed humorlessly. The sound was so odd coming from such a quiet and gentle male, it nearly made you flinch. But you stood strong. Clenching your fists at your sides and taking a deep breath, you spoke what you truly believed.

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt. Lucien is a good male."

"I think we're old enough to make decisions for ourselves." His voice was taking on a cold edge, like a blade smooth enough to cut with little noise but heavy damage. Like the famous dagger sheathed at his side.

"Those decisions could start a war, Azriel."

Despite your voice being soft and patient, he titled his head back with a sigh and a muttered curse, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Listen. I don't need to defend myself to anyone, let alone you."

Let alone you. You ignored the sting in your chest at the words. Shaking off how small and invaluable they made you feel.

"That's not what I'm saying Azriel. I just think you should take a step back--"

"Just because you're alone doesn't mean I have to be too."

The words hit you like a blow to the chest, the air leaving your lungs in a whoosh of emotion.

Alone. Lonely.

Unwanted.

You were alone. He could see it. He knew it. And he had done nothing about it.

He didn't care.

You must have been staring at him like a fool. A pathetic girl unable to stand up for herself, unable to move away from the male in front of her, because then she would truly be what he said she was: alone.

You swallowed harshly, trying to push the lump in your throat back down along with the tears that threatened to collect in your eyes. But it was difficult with your chest throbbing in pain, your stomach twisting and bottoming out with embarrassment and shame.

Azriel must have noticed your lack of composure, your hurt. Because suddenly he was sighing, a hand coming up to run through his wavy black hair.

"I didn't mean that."

His low voice cut through the silent night like a knife. You still couldn't meet his eyes.

Hiding your shaking fingers in two fists at your sides, you nodded, taking a step back toward the door of the House of Wind. If you were nodding as a show of forgiveness or in agreement with his words, you didn't know. You could feel his eyes following you. But you didn't want them on you anymore. For once, you didn't want him near you.

"I'm sorry."

You nodded again, moving to wrap your arms around yourself. The motion in itself made you even more embarrassed. The lonely girl with no one to comfort her but herself.

That dreadful feeling in your chest burned.

You didn't wait for him to speak another word before turning on your heel and walking back into the House of Wind.

Feeling his eyes on you, you didn't linger in the main room, instead turning the corner and concealing yourself in the hallway as you made your way to your room.

Azriel had never been so harsh with you, had never spoken to you in that tone or said something so humiliating and cruel. Although he had never spoken to you much at all.

Alone. Lonely. You, and no one else.

You should have never said anything. Should have let Azriel pursue Elain, minded your own business, loved everyone from afar. Instead, you had made yourself visible, opened your mouth, demanded to be seen and heard. All it had resulted in was a reminder that you didn't belong out in the open. You would always be shoved back into your solitude.

Maybe you could learn to like being alone. You wouldn't have to face the rejection of others, the forgetfulness, the feeling of unimportance.

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed your room. The space was equally as cold as the rest of the House. There was no comfort in the room, nothing that meant a lot to you. No presents, no memories, nothing you. Only furniture, blankets, and clothing. Generic paintings that were in here before you had even moved in.

Then you remembered when Elain and Nesta had arrived. The presents they had been given. The daggers, gloves, trinkets . . .

The things you had given others: jewelry, weapons, books, artwork, and yet your room was empty. You were empty. You had been giving and giving and watching everyone else receive.

You thought back to that moment during the war, the feeling you had felt when you had looked up after victory was declared. Cassian and Azriel had embraced before the two Archeron sisters met at their sides. Feyre and Rhysand were inseparable, and Mor was making sure Amren was okay. No one had even glanced at you.

And what Azriel had said . . .

You weren't meaning to drag him down with you, to demand his attention when they all had what they needed without you. You were trying to help. And you wanted him to see you.

But you didn't even see yourself. Not in this room, and not among the others.

So maybe it was pointless--trying so hard to get others to like you. Maybe being quiet and a wallflower, keeping the peace and admiring from afar only resulted in wasted energy.

Since nothing seemed to get others to like you or want to talk to you, maybe you shouldn't try anymore.

After all, Azriel already didn't seem to like you.

And your one friend who did had died today. In your arms. Because of you.

Just the thought of not caring lifted an invisible weight off your shoulders. You shook off the pain of Azriel's words, the weight of your feelings, and the burden of loneliness. And then you felt nothing.

No crush. No embarrassment. No hurt. No grief.

Just a numbness building in your bones.

And it was glorious.

#azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar x reader #azriel fluff #azriel x y/n #acotar x y/n

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tacticalprincess · 3 days

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What if. What if, tired könig just got yelled at by his superior bcs he messed something up then he sees you bent over looking for something under the couch (most probably the remote) and can't control himself? What was the lil guy supposed to do? :(( he was stressed and his stress reliever toy is right there

- 🐇

you couldn’t have presented yourself to him like this at a better time. he’s angry at himself for making such a careless mistake, days of exhaustion leading him to slack off in the paperwork aspect of his job, which ultimately rendered his last mission pointless. the only thing keeping him from snapping was the thought of coming home and fucking his frustrations into your tight, warm pussy. the easy access you’re granting him only makes it better, his already hard cock jumping at the sight of you in such a vulnerable position, flimsy pajamas barely concealing your ass.

he drops to his knees, wordlessly pushing you down farther by your lower back when you attempt to turn towards him, his other hand already undoing his belt. he shushes your concerns with what he’s doing and pulls your panties to the side, satisfied to see how quickly you’re getting wet for him, cute pussy getting glossy with slick. the first press of his thick tip into your hole is brain-numbing, punching a long, satisfied grunt out of him, eyes squeezing shut to bask in the feeling. his large hands dip into the crevices where your hip and soft thighs connect, meaty dick humping into your gummy walls at a rapid pace that leaves you breathless and dizzy. his brutal strokes push your body into the couch repeatedly, your knees beginning to ache from the burn of the carpet.

it’s not long before you’re being lifted off the floor from his strong grip on your hips, being bounced on his cock over and over again as his dick bullies your spongy cervix, rendering you helpless. your whines and mewls are barely heard over the sound of könig’s blood pumping in his ears, so close to filling your tiny hole with his hot seed for the first of many times that day.

“i’m sorry, häschen. just take it for me, ja?” he grunts out. “i need this.”

you want to take care of your man, don’t you?

#bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#🐇 anon #könig cod #könig smut #könig x reader #konig smut #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig x y/n #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig x you

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itgetzweird08 · 2 days

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“You shouldn’t be up this late”

Bakugo’s voice whispered, filling the silence in the dorm kitchen. He was right, and usually you weren’t. You valued your sleep, often being one of the first in the class to call it a night. But tonight was different. Your thoughts, your heart, was restless. Despite following your nighttime routine, which was curated specifically to help you wind down and rest, you still found yourself tossing and turning. Not even your ocean sounds could help you drift to sleep. Thats why when Bakugo spoke, you sighed heavily and let your shoulders droop.

“Yeah. I know.”

He took a few steps toward you, leaning against the countertop. “So what’s got you awake?” You shrugged at him, watching the water in the electric kettle begin to form small bubbles. “Dunno…just can’t sleep I guess.” You looked over to him, taking soft note of his tired eyes and disheveled hair. “And you? You aren’t usually awake at this time either.” He shrugged right back at you. “Dunno…can’t sleep I guess” he echoed your words, and it made you smile just a bit.

You both knew why the other was awake, or at least you both had some inkling. Between how the ambush attack played out and Midoriya running away, neither of you have had time to really process all of what has gone on. You haven’t had time to think about how your lives had been flipped one eighty. But since Midoriya was back safe and sound, and there was no real information on the League or their next move, everything was at a standstill. That meant your brain was finally coming up to speed on what had gone on recently…and it was overwhelming. It felt like your mind was in over drive, thinking so many thoughts at once that it was causing you to lose sleep.

“…There’s a lot of water in this kettle. Would you like some tea?” Bakugo didn’t answer, just walked over to the mug cabinet and grabbed both of your designated mugs. Yours had your hero insignia, and he had his. It was Nezu’s Christmas gift for all of the hero course students. Bakugo opened the tea drawer, grabbing you each a packet of sleepytime zen tea before walking back over to you. You worked in silence then, enjoying each other’s company as you made your own cups.

Your relationship with Bakugo was unique. You admired him, even when he was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the school year. You’ve enjoyed watching him grow and working beside him as a teammate. You were inspired by his tenacity and drive. You liked how smart and witty he was, and how he could be funny even when he didn’t realize it. It also didn’t hurt that he was actually pretty cute. And all of the same things went for you in his eyes. He admired your kindness and your courage. He was inspired by the way you had such a big heart but you were no push over, standing up to him when he got too rough with his words or during training. In his eyes, it was like you were one of the only people to give him a chance, getting to know him past his rough exterior. You two had gotten closer during the year, training and studying together sometimes. You began to sit next to him for lunch, stealing small pieces of chicken from his plate while he stole beef from yours. You were the only one with that privilege. Eventually, you became this unlabeled, unspoken thing. You didn’t have to confess your feelings because he knew, and you knew how he felt about you even if he’s never admitted it.

You softly sipped your tea, allowing the warm liquid to run down your throat and causing you to sigh. He stirred his own cup, watching the spoon go around and around. Technically, there was nothing else for you two to do in the kitchen. Technically, you could’ve parted ways right here and drank your own cups in your rooms. But you couldn’t bear to leave him. Deep down, you both didn’t want to be alone tonight.

“Bakugo?” He looked up as you said his name. “Could I sleep over in your room tonight? I don’t think I want to be alone”

All he did was scoff, pick up his mug and began walking towards the staircase. When he realized you weren’t following, he scowled and turned to look at you.

“Let’s go brat. I’m missing out on my beauty sleep”

—————

Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

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mahmoud0qassas · 15 hours

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Allah is the Provider and He is the one who blesses the provision, and Allah is more generous than all

And you are absolutely certain that what you give to God, He will multiply it for you many times over, so do not despair, for you are working and donating for yourself and the hereafter.

Yes, we need you because we are a large family. Yes, the amount is large, but it did not arouse your feelings, and my daughter is asking for your help

Don't raise your feelings while my family lives with humiliation

It did not arouse your feelings, and my friend asks you to help us in order for us to travel as soon as possible to treat my brother in a clean hospital

My brothers and sisters in Islam

Every day I beg you to stand with us, and the abundance of hope made me ashamed of myself, and this particular displacement, in which we moved from Rafah to the city of Zawaida. We faced the cruelty of humiliation and humiliation from the camps, and they allowed my family of 42 individuals to set up only two tents out of four.

This is a final appeal to you.. My family needs you.. My disabled brother needs you.. And my daughter dreams of living in safety.. Do not break our thoughts.. And the size of your donation will determine our path.. And the greater your donation, Allah will honor you in this world and the afterlife, for Allah is more generous than all.

If you want to enter Paradise, look at our condition, and be sure that Allah will admit you to His Paradise, and whenever you are good, Allah will give you according to your goodness.

#gaza strip #free palestine #free gaza #gaza #gaza genocide #gazaunderattack #gaza under attack #gaza under siege #i stand with palestine #palestine genocide

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witchywithwhiskey · 3 days

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bucky + “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”

getting what you want on a rainy spring afternoon

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping/dry sex, fingering (f receiving), consent issues (but not really? idk), dirty talk, light degradation, kissing, teasing, banter, friends to lovers

word count: 2,500ish

a/n: thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! i had far too much fun writing these two, which is why it ended up being so long 😅 (compared to my other springtime fun ficlets anyway)!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

“Stop it.” The words were barely discernible with the way they were growled, the annoyed rumbling coming from your best friend, Bucky Barnes. Your best friend who had come over on that rainy spring afternoon to hang out and had promptly fallen asleep instead.

Though you would’ve expected yourself to be a little sleepy, given the long week you’d had, you found yourself feeling more restless than anything else. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to settle down and cuddle up against Bucky’s arm like you’d done so many times before.

So you were left to your own devices with your best friend, who’d fallen asleep sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back against your couch. He looked completely at ease on your couch while you were bored. You wanted Bucky’s attention and, for some reason you couldn’t fathom, you’d decided the best way to get it was to annoy him until he woke up.

You’d been trailing your fingers over his bare arms and face, tickling him until his expression twisted and he grumbled in his sleep. It was immature, but you were having too much fun to stop, suppressing your giggles every time he made an unhappy sound.

Finally, you got some actual words out of him and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter. Bucky sounded so cute when he was tired and grumpy. Maybe it should’ve made you stop, but instead you waited for him to fall back asleep, his soft snores joining the gentle rhythm of the rain and the hum of the movie still playing on your TV.

Reaching up, you trailed your fingertips ever so lightly down the bridge of Bucky’s nose, skipping them off the edge before they fell to his mouth. You were surprised by how soft Bucky’s lips felt beneath your fingers, so different to the scruffy roughness of his cheeks and jaw, which seemed to be permanently covered in stubble.

Bucky’s lips parted as you were tracing them, and you yanked your hand away, turning to face the TV so you could pretend you’d only been watching the movie if he woke up. But you watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye, and he seemed to be sleeping still. Then his tongue darted out to wet his lips and your face heated inexplicably.

Suddenly, your thoughts were filled with ideas about what it would feel like to have Bucky’s mouth pressed to yours, his stubble dragging against your skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing your best friend kissing along your jaw and down your neck—his lips exploring even more intimate parts of your body…

Squirming in your seat and trying to ignore the heat curling through your belly, you turned fully to Bucky, watching him closely to make sure he was asleep. When you were certain hew as, you reached out, tracing his lips again with your fingertips, feeling their softness and the dampness left behind by his tongue.

Your body warmed, and you pressed your thighs together against a pulsing ache building in your core. You didn’t want to think about your body’s reaction to touching your best friend, but you also didn’t want to stop or pull your hand away. You wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible.

So enraptured by the sight of Bucky’s mouth, you didn’t notice when his lips parted further, his raspy grumble surprising you so much you had to bite back a gasp.

“Cut it out.”

“What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.” Your reply was quick, as you pulled your hand away and leaned against his side like you were simply cuddling into him. It was normal for you to cuddle with your best friend, though you weren’t normally thinking about kissing him, or about doing other things with him, when you did.

Unfortunately—or fortunately—your new position of leaning against his arm put your face close to Bucky’s. His mouth was right there, looking oh so enticing, and an impulsive thought popped into your mind. What if you just…brushed your lips against his? Not even fully against his mouth, just the edge of it. Could it really count as a kiss if you just brushed your lips to the corner of his mouth?

You decided it didn’t.

Leaning forward, your eyes fluttered closed as your lips ghosted over the stubble next to Bucky’s mouth, then connected with the softness of his lips. Your breath caught in your throat. It felt so good—his warm breath caressing your cheek and his velvety lips against the edge of yours. You could even taste the coffee he had that morning, the flavor rich and mixing with something that was entirely Bucky.

It occurred to you far too late that you were dangerously close to kissing your best friend, and you shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—especially while he was sleeping on your couch. You knew you should pull away and go back to watching the movie, pretend nothing ever happened. But what you really wanted was to press closer, to sink into Bucky’s chest and slip your tongue past his lips.

Instead, you just hung suspended in the moment, too wrapped up in your thoughts about kissing your best friend to notice the way his breathing shifted, his body tensing like a predator’s would right before it pounced.

Then, all at once, Bucky moved, flipping you down onto your back on the soft couch cushions and covered your body with his own, his narrow waist fitting perfectly between your thighs. His hard bulge pressed to your core, making you gasp as pleasure surged through your body, your legs wrapping around him instinctively to keep him close.

“Not doing anything, huh, doll?” Bucky rasped in a teasing voice, a wide grin on his face. “Certainly not kissing your best friend while he’s asleep, right?” Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim daylight of your living room. You squirmed guiltily beneath him, but that only succeeded in grinding your heated core against his dick, making it twitch in his sweatpants.

“Bucky,” you whined, gripping his t-shirt in your fists and shaking them, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Now that he was awake, you were painfully aware that your friendship was hanging by a precarious thread, but the heat flooding your body urged you to throw all caution to the wind. Still, you knew you needed to apologize for what you’d done, and you whispered, “I’m sorry,” in a small, pitiful voice.

But Bucky only grinned, ducking down and pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Don’t apologize, doll,” he said in a warm, happy tone. “I’ve been awake since you started touching my face,” he pressed a kiss to your other cheek, trailing his lips down and blowing a raspberry against your jaw, which made you shriek with laughter.

You tried to squirm away from his teasing mouth, but Bucky grabbed your hands, pulling them from his shirt and pinning them above your head. His face hovered above yours, his eyes taking you in like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I was wondering how far you’d go,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. Then, a sly smirk curved his lips and his eyes darkened, your body lighting up at the expression. “Didn’t think you’d kiss me though.” His eyes dropped to your mouth and his voice went a little distant as he murmured, “Didn’t think our first kiss would be when you thought I was asleep.”

Your lips parted and it was on the tip of your tongue to apologize when his words sank in. Had Bucky just implied that he’d thought your first kiss together was inevitable? And did his words mean he’d thought about kissing you before? How long had he been thinking about kissing you?

You didn’t have time to fully form a question in response to Bucky’s words because your best friend slanted his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss. Immediately, the entire world fell away and your mind went blissfully blank—your guilt and trepidation melting into simple pleasure as you reveled in your first proper kiss with Bucky.

Kissing your best friend felt like coming home and sinking into the safety and comfort and bliss of knowing where you belonged. The way your lips slid against Bucky’s, you knew you belonged with him—in his arms—always. It was overwhelming and delicious at the same time, and you never wanted to stop.

“Taste so good, doll,” he rumbled, pulling away for only a second before he was diving back into your mouth, his tongue slipping between your lips and twining with yours.

You moaned into him, your hips working against the bulge in his sweatpants as you writhed beneath him. Bucky groaned, trailing his hands down your arms to your sides, freeing your hands to dive into his soft brown hair. You yanked on it lightly while his hands groped your breasts in your shirt, then smoothed down your waist to grip your hips and grind himself into you.

“Bucky!” you cried, wrenching your lips from his as you clung to your best friend and writhed with him. You could feel his hard cock perfectly through the soft cotton of his sweatpants and the thin fabric of your lounge shorts. He was grinding against your clit, his lips kissing and sucking on your neck and all you felt was bliss. “Don’t stop, Bucky, please don’t stop,” you begged in a breathy voice.

Bucky chuckled into the crook of your neck, suckling on your pulse point and groaning when you humped harder against him. “As if I could ever deprive you, doll,” he murmured, his voice warm and sweet and filling your mind with all the dirty things you could beg Bucky to do to you.

Dragging his face back to yours, you made out with Bucky, your kisses turning messy as you both got closer to the edge of your releases. Your bodies writhed together on your couch, your legs hitching around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to keep your clothed core grinding against his thick bulge.

“Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna—” Your words cut off on a sharp cry as Bucky rolled his hips, fucking you into couch like he was pounding into your cunt. The friction against your needy clit was perfect, and you felt the pleasure in your body surge, coiling tighter and tighter.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky growled, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Come all over your best friend’s bulge like the needy little thing you are.” He rocked his hips into yours, grinding his cock against your clit through your clothes, hitting the aching nub in just the way you needed.

The pleasure in your core snapped suddenly, and you let out a shrill cry as you came, your body going tight and taut as you clung to your best friend. Your legs held him close, your hands fisted in his hair while you moaned in his ear, your body shuddering beneath his bigger form while you rode out your release by grinding languorously against his bulge.

Then you heard Bucky groan into your neck, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as he kept humping against you. You felt a warmth between your thighs and shivered, knowing what it was and it only turning you on more that you’d made Bucky come without either of you taking off your clothes.

A smile curled your mouth as you humped against your best friend’s twitching cock while as he came in his pants. He was groaning into your neck and you were clinging to him, feeling every trembling shudder that wracked his broad body.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, riding out his pleasure by rubbing against your soaked core and milking every drop of come from his cock. “Fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the word and finally settling to lay on top of you as he collapsed. You lay entwined together for a long moment, simply enjoying each other.

Then, Bucky pushed up on his hands and glanced down your bodies, where he’d made a mess of both his sweatpants and your shorts.

You couldn’t help but giggle, only laughing harder when Bucky shot you an accusatory look. “This is entirely your fault, y’know?” he grumbled, beginning to move off you carefully so he didn’t make an even bigger mess. “If you hadn’t felt so good coming under me…”

You’d been about to make some flippant comment about how it’d feel much better if was inside you, but then Bucky shoved his sweatpants down and stepped out of them, walking bare-assed over to the laundry in the hallway. He turned to you expectantly, but your eyes were too busy taking in the sight of your best friend’s cock, still half-hard and swinging between his thick thighs.

“Are you going to help me clean up, or are you gonna make me strip you out of those filthy clothes?” Bucky asked gruffly, playfulness in his tone.

That snapped you out of your thoughts and you pushed yourself up off the couch, sauntering over to Bucky, enjoying the way his eyes drifted down to watch the sway of your hips. Once you were standing right in front of him, you tugged your shirt off over your head and pulled your shorts off, leaving you naked in front of your best friend.

Bucky’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening as they took you in. “Christ, doll,” he muttered distractedly, his gaze taking in every inch of your bare skin with a greedy glint in his eyes. “You’re constantly surprising me.”

“Well someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” you teased, pushing up onto your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips before you darted around him and ran into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and turned on the hot water, intent on taking a shower to clean up.

Before you could step beneath the warming spray, Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist and he hauled you against his body. His thickening cock wedged between your ass cheeks and his breath ghosting over your cheek as he murmured into your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Bucky rumbled, his hand slipping between your thighs, two fingers dipping into your soaking wet slit. “You’re mine now—and I’m going to have so much fun making my girlfriend come all over my cock.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thrusting his fingers into your needy cunt, making your knees shake as you struggled to stay upright.

All you could do was whimper and moan, clinging to Bucky’s arms and melting back against his chest. A smile played on your lips, though, as you realized you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—your best friend’s attention. And you knew you were going to enjoy every minute of that rainy spring afternoon with your boyfriend because Bucky, and his attention, was finally all yours.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #thyme-in-a-bubble #friends to lovers

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regressionschool · 3 days

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Maybe I do like it

So many times I've said it: "I don't want to wear diapers." "I want to use the potty." "I'm a big girl." I've screamed it until my throat was raw, until my voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. I've cried it all, every tear a testament to my defiance.

But no matter how loud I screamed, no matter how hard I fought, it didn't change anything. They still took away my big girl panties, replacing them with diapers. They still made me fill every diaper they strapped onto me to the brim, ignoring my protests and pleas.

I screamed at them, at my captors, the ones who held me prisoner in this childish state. But my screams fell on deaf ears, drowned out by their laughter and mocking whispers. In their eyes, I was nothing but a helpless little.

But as time passes and I obediently fill diaper after diaper, I find myself facing a troubling realization: maybe I like it. Maybe I like the way my diaper feels all warm and snug when I pee myself, the comforting embrace of its soft padding. Maybe I like the convenience of never having to search for a bathroom again, of being free to go whenever and wherever I please.

And as I squat down to mess my diaper, hours away from the next change, I can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, I do like being a poopy pampers princess. The thought sends a shiver of guilt and excitement down my spine.

Picture property of: @theabdaycare

Twitter.com/theabdaycare1

Justfor.fans/theabdaycare1

#ab/dl diaper #diaper captions #diaper stories #ab/dl stories #ab/dl caption #regression school #ab/dl girl #wetting diaper #diaper bulge

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skalfy · 2 days

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Misunderstandings

alexia putellas x reader, ~4.1k words, part 1/probably 2

angst in this part, but planning for a happy ending.

Hi! for people waiting for part 3 of the Misa story I promise I am working on it, just been busy and got caught with some other ideas, including this one. Hope y'all enjoy this in the meantime!

Also please feel free to send me requests, I am not very quick, but would love to take on some ideas. I don't really have a complete list of players I will/won't write for, but if you send me one for someone I won't, I'll reply and let you know so you can send it elsewhere :)

You had no idea how you had gotten off on the complete wrong foot with Alexia Putellas.

It had only been a month since you joined Barcelona on a three year deal, fulfilling a lifelong dream while launching you far out of your comfort zone. You were shy, and coming from Tigres, and before that, college football in America, you hardly even had a former opponent to befriend. All of your new teammates were strangers, and in some cases, even strangers you’d looked up to for years. All of your teammates except one, that was.

In a strange twist of fate, you had met Ingrid Engen almost a decade prior, when the two of you were both 17. You had an aunt--not a real one, but one of your father’s old friends from college-- who had moved to Norway a few years before you were born. Your family had gone to visit Aunt Anna every couple summers, spending a week or two seeing the fjords and the beautiful traveling the countryside. The summer you were 17, Aunt Anna had invited you to stay for a whole month. It was meant to be a sort of final hurrah before you started college in the fall, and your parents agreed without much debate.

Your second night at Aunt Anna’s house in Melhus, you had headed to the football pitch down the street with the intent to complete your assigned summer workout, and instead you had met Ingrid. That evening on the pitch was the start of a whirlwind month-long friendship as the two of you bonded over your love of the sport, then grew to find you had much more in common beyond that. One night as you sat on your bed in Anna’s house, Ingrid had told you that she was gay, opening up about the feelings she had for one of her U-19 national teammates. She held you in a tight hug as, for the first time, you said out loud that you thought you might be gay too.

You had said a tearful goodbye at the end of the month, but stayed in touch with Ingrid somewhat throughout the years, exchanging infrequent texts congratulating each other on football achievements or to check in on life. You had been pleased to hear that things worked out with her national team crush, Marie, though sorry to hear it ended a few years later. She had cheered you on in turn when you had your first serious relationship with a girl at college. When you first arrived at Barça, the two of you hadn’t seen each other since that month in Melhus, even with your respective places on your senior national teams, but you still considered her a trusted friend.

During the your first month with the Blaugrana, you had gravitated immediately toward Ingrid. You were delighted to fall back into the easy friendship you had shared so many years ago, and it helped that you were nervous to attempt to befriend your other teammates. You worried that you were monopolizing Ingrid’s time, but she easily assuaged your concerns, telling you that she was happy to spend the time together and that she would be there to support you as you took opening up to the team at your own pace. She offered you an open invite to have dinner with her and Mapi whenever you were ready to branch out.

Though you mostly kept to yourself and Ingrid, the rest of the team seemed friendly and open for the most part. Pina and Patri didn’t seem to mind your shyness and often chattered happily to you, managing to include you as a third member of their two person conversations in the changing room. Your spanish wasn’t perfect, but three years playing in Mexico had brought you up to a passable level.

Keira and Lucy, often accompanied by Ona, would also frequently bring you into conversations. You got the sense that it was as much for Keira’s sake as yours, she seemed more than pleased to have another native english speaker to chat to. You appreciated their dynamics, full of biting wit and teasing that reminded you of time with your national teammates.

The one person who seemed to hold nothing but animosity towards you was the one who you had been most excited to play with. You racked your brain, but couldn’t place any reason why you so often seemed to be at the receiving end of Alexia’s ire, but it was unmistakeable. At best, she ignored you-- the few mornings you had arrived early enough for the two of you to be the only ones in the changing room, she remained stubbornly silent, hardly acknowledging you at all besides a flat look as you entered. At worst, she singled you out in training, barking critique after critique. You had a relatively thick skin, but the captain’s intense disapproval wore on you as it never seemed to relent.

The obvious explanations that you could think of for her behavior were out. You were a forward, used to playing out and out striker or tucked under as a false 9, but you hadn’t played midfield since a few times in a pinch in college, so even setting aside her unmatched abilities, she couldn’t possibly think you were threatening her place. You had hardly ever played against her, coming off the bench late in a game once against Spain, and playing most of a friendly with Tigres. You had certainly never put in a risky tackle against her, you didn’t think you had even made any impact on her. Certainly nothing she might hold a grudge for-- you hadn’t, say, nabbed a winning goal.

As far as you could tell, it seemed like it was something you had done since joining Barça, because she hadn’t seemed so frosty on your first meeting. The captain had been quiet but polite as she welcomed you to the team, even returning the shy smile you had given her when you were introduced, but by the end of the first week it became clear that you had drawn her ire.

You had asked Ingrid for her opinion, and, while she agreed that Alexia did seem to be especially critical of you, she couldn’t come up with an explanation. After thinking through it, she optimistically suggested that it could be a misguided attempt to help you adjust to the Barcelona playstyle. At the skeptical wince you gave her in response, she offered to ask Mapi to weigh in. You thanked her, but declined. Alexia’s best friend’s opinion would likely be your best chance to understand, but you were wary of putting either Ingrid or her girlfriend in an awkward position.

A few days after that conversation with Ingrid, a particularly bad day of practice with Alexia all over your every move had you feeling desperate. You had stuck it out to the end of the session, but raced away as soon as you could, eyes hot with unshed tears and face red with embarrassment and exertion. You passed through the changing room only long enough to kick off your boots and grab your keys and phone. Jana was inside and changed already, on a slightly shortened training plan as she returned from injury, and she called out in concern as she saw you dart for the exit.

“¿Estás bien, Y/N? ¿Qué pasó?” You shook your head as the younger player stepped toward you, not sure whether you were answering no to the first question or trying to deny anything was wrong. Either way, Jana took matters into her own hands, grabbing you gently by the elbow and guiding you to face her. “Let me drive you home, vale?” you choked back a sob and let the defender walk you towards her car.

You told Jana which apartment building you were in and she didn’t bother to plug it into the GPS, navigating the short drive easily. She had turned on some music and you were grateful that she let it play quietly without asking you any more questions. When you reached your building, she turned the car off and climbed out, circling around to meet you at the passenger side door, clearly intent on seeing you all the way in. You let her walk you through your apartment door, sinking onto one of your kitchen chairs once you were in. The defender stood at the edge of the kitchen, looking a little uncertain.

“¿Quieres que llame a alguien? Call someone?” she asked.

“Voy a llamar a Jenni. Gracias por todo. Puedes quedarte si quieres.” you replied, managing a genuine smile at the young defender. She smiled back, pulling out the chair nearest you to sit.

Jenni had been one of your closest friends at Tigres, and she was eagerly checking in on your move to Barcelona every day, but you had held back about the challenges you were having with Alexia. You were afraid to gossip about the captain, especially with Jenni, and you weren’t entirely sure what kind of reaction to expect. But after the day you had, you craved Jenni’s support and guidance too much to keep holding back.

The phone only rang twice before Jenni picked up, greeting you with a cheery “¡hola, cariño!” you tried to answer her in return, but you were caught off guard by the wave of tears that surged back at the sound of her voice. All you managed was an urgent sniffle as you fought to hold the tears at bay.

“¿Cari? ¿Qué pasa?” Jenni’s voice, now concerned, crackled through your phone’s speakers again. After a moment, you felt Jana’s hand slide onto your knee comfortingly. You turned to her and saw that she had reached her other hand out, palm up. You handed the phone to her and watched as she immediately brought it to her ear.

“Hola, Jenni. Es Jana.” she greeted her former teammate before launching into a stream of spanish too quick for you to try to follow. You zoned out to the sound of Jana’s voice, focusing on deep breaths to unclench the tight knot of tears high in your throat.

You had managed to relax yourself considerably by the time Jana brought your attention back with a light squeeze to your knee where her hand still rested. You looked up to see her holding the phone between the two of you, an expectant look on her face.

“Jenni asked if you are ready to tell what’s wrong.” You nodded and took a deep breath.

“Alexia hates me. I don’t know what I did, but she hates me and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“How do you know, what is she doing? Cari, Alexia is shy and competetivo. Maybe she doesn’t know she is hurting you.”

“No, Jen.” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. “She knows. If it’s just the two us she will ignore me, she can’t even look at me. When we are with the team she tells me everything I do is wrong, my touch, my passes, my shots. I know I am not as good as everyone else here, but I’m trying and none of it is enough for her. I can see how she is patient and kind with the young ones, so I know it is about me.”

“Es verdad, I haven’t been in the practices, but the others have been worried about it. I didn’t know it was so bad, but Ale has been muy dura.” Jana chimed in, and you were a little surprised to hear her mention the team was concerned.

“I thought I wanted to play here, but I can’t do this for three years. I just want to be back at Tigres.” you admitted.

“Lo siento, Y/n. Lo siento mucho. I wish I was there to hug you.” you could tell she meant it by the waver in her voice, and it made you miss her even more fiercely.

You talked through everything you could think of, all your interactions with Alexia, every idea you had eliminated for what went wrong. Jenni and Jana alternated between outrage and murmured words of comfort, but mostly just listened as you vented everything you had been holding in for weeks. By the end, you actually felt better. Whether it was the release of finally letting everything go, or the relief of hearing two people who knew Alexia agree that something wasn’t right, a weight was definitely lifted from your chest.

“So what should I do?” You finally asked Jenni. “How can I fix whatever this is?”

“Oh, nena, you shouldn’t fix this, it’s Alexia who needs to. Quandó ella escuche lo que tengo--”

“Jenni, no porfa! You can’t talk to her about this.” You loved Jenni, hot head and all, but you couldn’t let her go off on Alexia about this. “Thank you, I know you would do that for me, but I need to do this. I don’t want her to think-- I can’t ruin—”

“Vale, I understand, cari. I won’t say anything, prometo.” Jenni saved you from struggling to explain further. In the pause that followed, Jana spoke suddenly from next to you.

“I think you need to talk to Ale. O sea, if you want to understand what is in her head. Maybe Mapi knows, but,” she stopped with a shrug, and Jenni finished for her,

“Only Ale knows what Ale is thinking. Jana is right.” You nodded, even though Jenni couldn’t see you. She sighed over the phone, then continued. “It might be easier if you are gentle. Even if she doesn’t deserve it.”

“Gracias, Jenni.” You were suddenly very tired. “Te amo mucho. I wish I was back with you.”

“Yo también, nena. Te amo mucho. I am here if you need me.”

“I know. Good night.”

“Good night.” You hung up the phone and placed it on the table.

Jana stood from the chair next to you and held a hand out to you. When you took it, she pulled you gently to your feet, then wrapped you in a hug. You immediately softened into the embrace, grateful for the comfort. She held you close for a long moment, then released you into a light hold.

“I know you have Ingrid, but I’m here for you too, Y/n. We haven’t had much time to get to know each other, but I’m glad you are at Barça and I want to be your friend.” The earnest look in her eyes as she spoke nearly had your own tearing up again. You tugged her back into a hug, squeezing her fiercely before you let go.

“Gracias, Jana. I want to be your friend too. Thank you.” You could feel a smile break across your face, and she grinned in return. “I should let you go home before it is too late. Are you okay to drive?”

“Yes, gracias. It is a short drive, we are almost neighbors. You can visit me soon and I will show you!”

You walked Jana back down to her car, exchanging numbers before you said your goodbyes. Despite everything, you felt a glow of hope for your future at Barcelona. At least you had a new friend and some kind of plan.

You were halfway through your pre-practice routine the following morning when your phone chimed with a message. It was Jana.

Jana: ¡Hola! Do you need a ride this morning?

Jana: Because I made you leave your car

Jana: Not sorry for that 😋🚙

You had completely forgotten about your car, so you were grateful for both the reminder and the offer.

You: Yes, thank you! I can walk to you if that is easier.

Jana: Do not worry, I will pick you up. 20 minutes?

You: Perfect

True to her word, Jana picked you up outside 20 minutes later. The drive was much more lighthearted than the previous night. You asked about Jana’s english, curious about why it was so good when she had spent her whole career in Spain. She started to explain that it was part of the curriculum at La Masia, but then cracked a smile and confessed that it was mostly because she was dating Jill and it was much easier than learning Dutch.

You had been curious about the rumors around the two, and seeing the way Jana lit up made you glad to hear they were true. You said as much to the defender, which led to her telling the story of how they met during the rest of the drive. The sweet story left you both in a good mood as you pulled up to the training center.

You climbed out of the car and grabbed your bag, laughing with Jana as she came up next to you and bumped into your shoulder as you started to walk together. For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel dread at the thought of walking into training, and you weren’t desperately searching for any sight of Ingrid. Jana seemed to be noticing the same thing.

“You will have to let me take you home more often if it puts you in this good of a mood!” She said, wrapping one arm around your shoulders.

You were about to respond when another voice beat you to it.

“Jana. Y/N.”

You froze, looking up to see Alexia approaching. Jana squeezed your shoulder where her hand rested. The captain had an unreadable expression on her face, eyes darting from you to Jana, then back to you.

“Hola, Capitana.” You said, lowering your gaze as her eyes met yours.

“Can I talk to you?” It was clear that the question was directed at you. When you didn’t immediately respond, she spoke again, voice softening almost imperceptibly. “Jana, vé sin nosotros. Iremos pronto.”

Jana caught your eye and you nodded slightly. You appreciated her willingness to look out for you, but you didn’t want to get her in trouble, not to mention you wanted to speak to Alexia anyway. The defender gave you a final squeeze to your arm before walking past Alexia toward the training center.

The two of you stood in silence. For a moment, your mind raced to guess what she had stopped you to say, but you pushed the worry down. With the way your relationship was going, it hardly seemed worth predicting what her latest criticism would be. You stared over Alexia’s shoulder, waiting.

“Jana has a girlfriend.” It was maybe the last thing you expected the midfielder to say, and you were caught completely off guard.

“What? I—I know.” You sputtered out. Jana’s last comment jumped into your mind, and when Alexia didn’t say anything else, you felt the need to continue and clarify. “What Jana said… She didn’t mean what it sounded like. She gave me a ride home last night and then this morning.”

“Bueno.” Alexia finally said, quieter than before.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” You asked, voice flat.

“Ah...” she hesitated. “No.”

The blonde turned and walked away as you watched. The good mood you had only a few minutes earlier was gone, leaving behind a sort of hollow feeling. Jana had been the one to drive you, the one with her arm around your shoulders, and the one to make a silly joke about taking you home, but still, Alexia assumed the worst of you and you only. Suddenly, you felt like an idiot for thinking you could talk anything out with the captain. A surge of hopelessness washed over you as you imagined her scrutinizing every interaction you had with your teammates in addition to your skills on the pitch, and you felt sick. You walked to where you left your car last night, pulling out your phone to text Jonatan.

You: Lo siento, estoy enferma y no puedo ir a practicar.

Once at home, you buried yourself under the covers on your bed. You still felt awful from the interaction with Alexia, but you were overwhelmed by a wave of other emotions-- guilt for missing practice, anger at yourself for letting a personal issue get in the way of your career, and a deep fear that things were not going to get better.

Your phone was vibrating in the other room, but you ignored it, certain it wasn’t anyone you wanted to talk to right now. Ingrid was at the practice you just left, and it was far too early for Jenni or your family to be awake in their timezones.

As you lay bundled in your bed, the adrenaline from your high emotions faded, and you found yourself suddenly fighting heavy eyelids. Slowly, you faded into sleep.

You awoke to a loud pounding on your apartment door. Disoriented, you dragged yourself out of bed, padding out into the living room as the noise continued. You flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door open, coming suddenly face to face with your insistent visitor.

“Alexia?”

The blonde shouldered her way past you without a word, marching into your living room and looking wildly around. You closed the door and locked it before turning back to see Alexia peering into your bedroom. You snapped.

“Alexia! What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking for Ingrid!” She turned to snarl at you, eyes cold.

“What? Ingrid’s not here, what are you talking about?” You were genuinely confused, and Alexia barreling her way through your apartment wasn’t helping. You reached out and caught her by the elbow as she made to walk into your bedroom. “Stop, please! Can you just explain what’s going on?”

Alexia shook your hand off her arm, but stayed put.

“I’m not stupid. You show up here while Mapi is injured and try to steal her girlfriend. I see you every day at practice all over Ingrid. You don’t talk to anyone except her, you follow her around, you take her out for coffee, all while my best friend isn’t there to see. At first I thought you were just friendly, but it’s only with her.” Her chest heaved as she paused to take a breath. “Then I realized today you skipped practice and convinced Ingrid to join you and I knew.”

Your head was spinning and you were certain your jaw was nearly on the floor. You understood Alexia’s words, but struggled to comprehend what she was saying. As it finally clicked, a burst of laughter rose up in your chest. Alexia looked on, eyes narrowed, as you found yourself almost giggling.

“I’m, I’m sorry. It’s not funny!” You managed, pulling yourself together with a deep breath. “It’s just… you’ve been making me feel awful for weeks now because you think I’m trying to steal Ingrid from your friend? Did you even think to bring it up to Mapi herself?”

The blonde made no move to respond.

“I’ve been friends with Ingrid since we were 17. Mapi knows that. If we had any interest in each other we would have sorted it out long before now. You’re completely right that I’ve been following her around and sticking by her side, but you’re completely wrong about why. God, Alexia, I just came from halfway across the world to play for a team full of people I’ve looked up to for years. I miss my family and Jenni and the rest of my old teammates. A month ago, Ingrid was the only person I knew in this entire stupid country!”

You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying to calm your racing heart. Your body felt like you had just played 90 minutes of a championship final. When you eventually opened your eyes again, it was to the sight of Alexia still rooted to the same spot. She had hardly moved a muscle other than to drop her gaze to the floor, back and shoulders. rigid with tension. You left her in the bedroom doorway and walked over to sink into the same kitchen chair Jana had occupied last night.

“Y/n, I—” she started, but paused at the sound of the lock, then the knob turning on the door. It swung open.

“Y/n! Sorry to use your spare key, but you weren’t answering my texts! I would have come sooner, but I had a dentist’s appointment I had to leave practice for. Are you okay? Are you sick? Jana said you seemed fine until you talked to Alexia this morning, did she say something?”

“I’m okay.” Ingrid’s gaze caught you when you spoke, then rose to look past you as she responded.

“Good, I-- Alexia?”

“Alexia was just leaving.” You spoke before the blonde could. “Are you okay to drive home, Capitana?”

“Sí. Yes.” She answered quietly, finally moving away from your bedroom and towards the door to leave. Before she stepped out, she paused to turn your way. “Lo siento, Y/n. I will fix this.”

When the door shut behind her, you dropped your head into your arms on the table.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas

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morallyinept · 2 days

Text

Home - A Joel Miller One Shot

Summary: Joel returns home to you.

Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader, except that reader has hair and is prone to freckling in the sun. These are very small details briefly mentioned.)

Word Count: 1.6k

Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's fluff. You're safe.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Nothing too heavy. Some angst and longing.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: I've had some terrible writer's block recently and the new season 2 Joel reveal has inspired me this evening. Thanks, Joel! 🥰

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The swing hangs at one end of the rickety porch, a timeless piece that has seen many seasons and heard many secrets in your time here in the Jackson commune.

Crafted from sturdy oak, it’s varnished and smooth in places when you run your fingers over the armrests that curve gracefully at each end.

You remember his own fingers gliding over the wood as he sanded it, splintered and calloused, and yet strangely soft in the middle of his large palms when you’d rubbed cooling aloe salve into them after, whilst he'd planted a line of tantalising kisses on your shoulder and remarked on how freckled you’d gotten in the sun that afternoon.

You don't remember much else after that as his kisses had engulfed you wholly.

The thoughts cause splinters in your stomach lining and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing them not to creep into the jagged fissures of your hollowed bones. But it’s futile. The memories of him are everywhere you look.

Your gaze drifts to the haphazard wooden flower boxes, overflowing with vibrant blooms and herbs.

It was Joel who had planted them, his hands deftly tending to each delicate stem, leaf and petal as if they were his own children.

You can picture him kneeling beside the boxes, soil dusted over his denim clad thighs, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully watered each plant.

You think about the bed you climb into each night, noting the void in the space beside you where Joel's warmth and his presence once lingered. You can almost see the imprint of his broad body on the mattress, the indentation where he'd slept night after night with you curled into his body, leg resting over his hip.

You can still feel the heat from him as you'd wake in the night to find him practically draped over you.

The seat on the swing is wide and deep, designed for comfort and for sharing, for cuddling together on warm, balmy nights under the fraying, knitted blanket with wonky stitch lines.

You still hold it up to your nose, inhaling the last ebbs of his scent that haven’t been blown out the fibres fully by the breeze. But it’s fading fast and you’re worried that one day it’ll be gone forever, just like he is.

Strung along the railing and woven through the latticework, tiny lights glimmer around you like a thousand stars brought down to earth on glittery strings. Each delicate bulb emits a soft, warm glow, creating a cascade of golden light that flickers gently with the whispers of the night.

The cushions you’re sitting against, plump and inviting, have seen their share of tears. You’ve clung to them during sleepless nights, seeking the comfort they no longer fully provide. The smaller pillows, in warm tones of orange and gold, have been hugged so close to your chest as if they can somehow bridge the chasm of his absence.

The muted hues on the porch that echo the colours of the forest surrounding your home beyond the fences, mirror your fading hope, each day a little dimmer than the last.

You tell yourself that perhaps tonight will be the night, that he’ll emerge from the shadows like an ethereal spectre back to you, but you know, somewhere in your heart that’s been broken beyond full repair, that it’s wishful thinking. A dream with its shiny ribboned tether drifting so close, yet so far out of your reach.

You’ve often found yourself on the empty porch, night upon night, your heart heavy with the belief that he’ll return. Waiting... always waiting.

They've stopped coming now, stopped checking in on you. Stopped bringing baked goods, like they do when someone passes away. Leaving you to wilt and exist in your own bubble of enduring sadness and melancholy.

They said you should move on, like it's an easy thing to do. And a small part of you thinks that perhaps you should at least try. It's been too long.

You’d heard the rumours, whispers in the commune, of the men and women who never make it back, of the dangers that swallow them whole out there - even the strongest aren’t immune.

Joel, like many in the commune, had volunteered for supply runs, journeys that had become increasingly dangerous. The surrounding areas fraught with peril - raiders, infected, treacherous terrain, and unpredictable weather. Every time someone leaves for a run, there’s no guarantee they'll return.

You knew this. You knew the risk. So did Joel. The supply runs are a lifeline for the community, but they come with a heavy cost. Each departure is shadowed by uncertainty, each return a fleeting relief.

When Joel didn’t come back from his last run, the fear that had always lingered at the edge of your mind about him embarking on them, consumed you whole.

You knew the risks he faced, had heard the stories of those who never made it back from his own weary lips of close calls, and had seen the grief in the eyes of others in the commune who had lost their loved ones.

You were one of them now.

The days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the silence grew louder. Every creak of the porch, every rustle of leaves heightened your anxiety, making your heart race with the hope that it might be him, only to be crushed by the realisation that it wasn’t.

It never was.

Your nights were spent waiting on the porch swing that Joel built for you both to spend balmy nights in the summer drinking tangy lemonade and being cuddled up in his strong arms.

And he isn’t here doing that with you anymore and you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to move on, or accept it.

You try to hold onto the minute flicker of hope that remains, but it’s fading fast, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of loss and the fear of what the future might hold without him.

Each day without word, each night without his voice, has chipped away at your hope leaving you empty and lost.

Tonight is no different; and when you find yourself dozing into the late night on the swing in a routine you can't seem to break, the cool breeze stirring you awake, you resolve to go to bed and spend another night alone reaching out longingly to his side of the mattress, wondering where he is.

You stand to go inside, shaking off the blanket, and a flicker of movement catches your eye through the shadows and startles you.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat when you hear your name called softly.

You visibly pinch yourself, the sharp pain registering that you’re not dreaming.

There he is, standing where he used to stand, the same but different. His silhouette is a familiar yet foreign sight, the longer hair and the weary lines on his face telling stories of the time and trials he’s endured out there.

Your heart pounds as a flood of emotions surge through you - disbelief, hope, anger, relief.

Your hands are trembling. Your heart is hammering so loudly now that you can't hear yourself think or even call out his name on a broken chord. Your legs barely support your weight, and for a moment you feel time stop completely, it's drag heavy agaisnt your skin.

Joel stands at the edge of the porch, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle light on his familiar face. His hair, longer and wilder than when he left, brushes against the top of his shoulders in swept back curls, seeming more grey and dishevelled.

The breeze seems to whisper through it as if sharing foreboding secrets from his time away. He looks different, weathered and sunken in his stature. And you're harshly reminded that it’s been over a year since he’d walked away from this home, from you.

"You're back," you whisper, your voice breaking as tears stream down your cheeks.

He steps tentatively up on the porch, a low groaning creak rumbles out from under his boot.

You resolve crumbles, and you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

He holds you tightly, his own tears mingling with yours.

The pain of the past year, the nights you cried yourself to sleep, the days filled with endless worry, all dissolve in the warmth of his tight embrace, and your heartbeats meld together as one under the gloaming lights around you.

Your fingers grip into the rough material of his jacket, and you inhale deep. He smells earthy, like the fragrance of fresh rain on dry earth. It carries with it the essence of the forest, of pine needles and damp soil, mingling with the crispness of skeletal autumn leaves.

"I thought you were dead," you sob into his shoulder, the words releasing a year's worth of grief and longing.

"I know," he murmurs, his voice choked with guilt. "I never stopped tryin’ to get back to ya."

His words carry the warmth of the Southern sun, the gentle drawl of his accent wrapping around the ruggedness of his tincture giving it a raw, unfiltered quality. It’s a voice that speaks of home and belonging, of wide-open spaces and endless horizons. Of survival and repentance.

It’s a reminder that he’s real, that he’s here, standing before you, alive and well. And yet strangely frail; wounded deeply by the experience of the outside world.

And as you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his roughened cheek peppered with his greying beard, you know in that moment that Joel is truly home.

“What happened to you, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened out there?” You fire off clumsily, your voice shaky and breathless until Joel simply looks at you with those molten, sad brown eyes and you finally breathe.

"I'm okay, I ain’t hurt," he replies softly, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes never leave yours.

“I thought I'd lost you,” your voice is nothing more than a croaked whimper. “You’re really here?” You question dreamily, sinking back into his arms.

"M'here."

As you stand together on the porch, bathed in the gentle glow of the fairy lights, you finally feel a sense of peace wash over you.

And almost as if he can sense your bewilderment, your fear and frustration - your relief - Joel runs his hand through your hair, caressing your skull and cradles you closer into his chest. Alleviating your fears and confirming the unwavering truth presented to you, that he is in fact here. He’s home.

"M’home, darlin’."

Joel Miller has come back home to you.

Thank so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little story. If you did, I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy it too. Thankies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #jett's writing

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twstowo · 3 days

Text

Kissing Their Foreheads [One Final Forehead Kiss]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.

♡︎ Includes: Third Years

[First Years]☆[Second years]☆[Third Years]☆[Here]

After your long journey of kissing each of your friends, you find yourself in the same spot where you had found Ace at the beginning of the day. The spot is empty now, Ace long gone after his pitiful display. You only wanted to give him a sweet forehead kiss! Why did he even have to behave the way he did? Couldn’t he just have accepted your affection?

You sit down on the bench, the soft evening winds caressing your skin. The moment feels peaceful as you finally stand alone at the end of such a busy day.

You are aware that Ace knows about your little adventure; not long ago, you sent him a message, and no one is surprised he ghosted you! You were inches away from blocking him! No! Maybe you should tell Riddle about the rule Ace broke last week! So many good ideas, but you simply roll your eyes at his behavior. It’s almost the end of the day; you shouldn’t be getting worked up after him.

“Henchman! I have been looking for you the whole day!” You hear Grim as he jumps on the bench. You watch him as he complains about the lack of cans of tuna, and then you remember the most important thing. Something you should have thought about long before.

Grim, he hadn’t received a forehead kiss yet! How could you have been so blind?

“WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU-” As you take hold of his face, you give him a forehead kiss, a well-deserved one.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

“For how long are you going to stare at your phone?” Deuce’s voice comes from behind Ace. In fact, he had been staring at your message for the longest time ever with an annoyed expression. He knows that at this point it just looked like he had ghosted you, but he simply didn’t know what to answer. “Just tell them that you liked their forehead kiss!”

For more than Ace wants to snap at Deuce and tell him to shut up, he knows that he is right. At this point, he is the one acting like an idiot. He sighs as he slowly starts typing, but everything he writes sounds way too sappy for him. There is no way he can send any of those messages.

Ding!

He hears the message sound as an image pops up in front of him. It’s you hugging Grim and below the message reads: ‘My favorite forehead kiss!’

As slowly as possible, he closes his phone and lowers it down. “That damned cat…”

“You lost to a cat??”

“SHUT UP, DEUCE!!”

@hotaru57 @takimarasukido

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #twst x reader #x reader #ace trappola x reader #twst ace #ace trappola #twst deuce #deuce spade #twst grim

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youraverageaemondsimp · 21 hours

Text

“Thou Shalt Not Covet.” // Angel!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: An angel's duty is to protect and guide humans; never to desire them, for it is a sin. Yet Aemond, the most trusted angel of God, finds himself yearning and desiring for you, a human.

WARNINGS: nsfw, mdni, smut, dubious consent(?), afab! human!fem!reader x angel!aemond, masturbation (m.) unprotected p in v sex, tiddy sucking, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f. receiving), forbidden relationship, body worship, blasphemy(?), creampie, cumming inside breeding kink, slightly disturbing content at the end, religious themes. + NOT PROOFREAD

WC: 4.5k

A/N: so I'm officially breaking my hiatus with this piece, I know I haven't posted for over two months and I apologize for that! Exams and everything practically ate my life away! // divider creds to @cafekitsune

God's most trusted angel, Aemond Targaryen, was no ordinary angel. He was sincere, always performing his duties without fail. He was respected amongst his peers, the most obedient angel of god.

Lately there have been rumours about the curse of being God's favourite, whispers about the old tale that all knew very well started resurfacing, the tale of the fallen angel. An incident that is now used as a way to warn angels from disobeying God and trudging the path of temptation.

Must all angels that were favoured by God fall into the way of sin? It has happened before, it might happen again.

Aemond decided that he would never be like that, he wants to prove that he is nothing like the fallen angel and how being God's favourite angel is not a curse, but rather a blessing.

And he did just that. Until a day arrived when he was sent to the land below on an urgent mission.

Aemond was reluctant to descend down to the land of people but he had to on the order of God, his mission was simple, to guide humanity through the famine that was occurring along with the drought that was caused by the devil to wreak havoc amongst the villagers. Messing with God's treasured creations has always been the devil's hobby after all.

And so he disguised himself as a human, helping men, women, children alike to recover, he blessed the land with fertility so that the land could produce crops once again. It was not an easy task, he had spent many weeks on the land, learning how humans function and go about their life which was quite a contrast to angels.

He also learnt how frail the human body is, how much energy is required to perform tasks and an unfamiliar feeling of hunger which he never felt when he was an angel. Every sensation was new to him but he overcame all the difficulties in order to finish his duty.

At least, that is what he had thought…

“Ser?! Are you okay?!” A voice shrieked in shock as he blinked his eye open to see an unfamiliar face with the look of concern staring down at him. You noticed how pale his face was and how dull his features looked, his lips were dry and chapped.

You were just taking a walk through the forest in search of medicinal herbs when you encountered this man lying unconscious in the middle of the path which made you panic thinking he was dead. You sighed in relief when he opened his eye.

“What happened to me?” He asks confused and you furrow your brows, “You fainted.” You tell him and he sighs “Why? I have been eating well though.” He mutters to himself and you clear your throat, you noticed how his face showed signs of dehydration earlier so you end up asking him a question “Did you drink water?” to which he replies with a “No, why?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in disbelief, “Water is an essential thing to survive, you fainted because of dehydration.” You explain his situation to him and he lets out an annoyed sigh, “Ugh, why are human bodies so frail and require so much material to sustain oneself?” He grumbles and you stare at him confused.

“Whatever, drink this.” You give your pouch of water and he drinks it greedily unknowingly, emptying the entire sac, he hands it back to you. Aemond tries standing up but immediately stumbles, however you catch him just in time so he doesn't fall. “It seems the dehydration was worse than we thought, my house is nearby, let me take care of you.” You offer him help and he just simply nods, “Lean onto me okay?” You instruct him and he does as you say. You lead him to your house.

It was a small house amidst the woods but not further inside, you opened the wooden door with one hand and pushed it with your foot and led both you and the man inside. You opened the door to your small bedroom and took him inside, helping him lay on the bed.

“Please rest comfortably.” You smile at him and he nods, “I will go and prepare medicinal tea so you can recover.” You inform him before getting up and reaching the exit.

“Wait!” He calls out and you turn around with a questioning look, “May I get your name?” he asks politely and you give him a small smile, “It's Y/N” You tell him and he smiles back at you, “ ‘Y/N’ such a pretty name.” He mutters to himself before looking at you, “Thank you Y/N.” He appreciates you genuinely which makes your heart flutter and you give him a nod. “What is your name?” You ask out of courtesy “Aemond.” He replies with a slight smile and your eyes widen, “Oh like the angel!” You affirm and he nods, “Like the angel, yes.”

“You have such an amazing name, that too it being after God's favourite angel.” You compliment him genuinely and he nods shyly. You take that as a cue to leave the room and prepare the tea for him.

Tying your beige apron; you quickly pull out the jar of dried hibiscus petals from the wooden shelf before taking a few of the petals and grinding them slightly, you added those grinded petals into the bot of boiling water and let it simmer for a minute before blowing off the fire and straining the liquid into a wooden cup.

You carry the hot beverage into the room only to find Aemond asleep, ‘his body must've been overly worked without any water’ you smile to yourself before placing the cup down onto the table, the slight noise startling and waking Aemond up from his slumber.

“Oh I apologise, I did not know that the noise would startle you.” You say in a slightly amused voice and he shakes his head, “It's alright.” he replies. “I bought the tea, you can drink it when it cools down.” You point at the cup on the table next to the bed and he nods, “Thank you.” He appreciates your hospitality.

You give him a small smile and he returns it, and then the room falls silent, awkward tension filling the air. You clear your throat in an attempt to break the tension before speaking up “So… I've never seen you around this area before or in the town, are you new here?” You question him.

“Mhm, I just recently got into this town after hearing the news of famine spreading here.” He answers truthfully, he had been going around the area into multiple villages and towns, solving the famine.

“Ah yes, there has been a shortage of food supplies since our land did not produce any crop this year.” You say sadly, thinking about how all the once healthy people in the town now look starved and unhealthy because of the shortage of food.

Aemond notices your sadness immediately and he grabs your hand, wanting to reassure you but the moment his skin comes in contact with yours, he feels electricity shoot up his spine that makes him retreat his hand immediately.

“Are you okay?” You ask concerned, reaching out for his hand. His breath hitches when you touch him, you examine his hand thinking something happened to it, all the while he's trying to control his breathing.

Why does his body feel hot when you touch him?

He gives you a quick nod and pulls his hand away from your grip and grabs the drink in order for the gesture to not seem rude, but luckily for him you don't dwell on it too much.

“Famines and Drought occur when the devil wants to mess with God, something he does for attention while thousands of people are affected.” Aemond grits his teeth, thinking about the reason why many humans are dying and you look at him confused, “And in these times of difficulty, many forget to pray, because all of their time is spent surviving, which further weakens the protection of the land.” He continues.

“So what do we do?” You ask confused.

“Pray, I was going to go to the centre of the village and start praying so that the rain falls tomorrow, but… I ended up like this.” He says embarrassed.

“Do you think God will really help us?” You question and he's shocked and offended by that question but he holds his composure, “He will. Have faith in him.” He tells you and you nod.

“Since you said you were new, you are free to stay in this house, besides you need to recover as well.” You offer him and his eye widens, “I can't, you've already done too much for me.” He refuses but you shake your head, “It's alright aemond, I was starting to stray from the path of God due to the recent problems, but after meeting you, I'm somehow comforted that everything will be alright, a feeling which I haven't felt since the start of the drought.” You admit honestly and he stares at you in awe.

And so you let him stay in your house.

You and Aemond have gotten undoubtedly closer, realising how you both held the same values and opinions, you helped Aemond spread the word of God and soon just like he said, the rain fell and the land began to recover.

You both were currently looking outside the window as the gentle drizzle of rain fell elegantly outside, making the lush greenery of the trees stand out and the smell of wet mud provided a deep comfort to your soul.

“You were right, Aemond.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, using his angelic powers in his human body exhausts him out, especially since the body of the human is so frail and weak, so he often has to recover in your house, but you just thought that it was because of dehydration like the first time.

You looked outside in awe, meanwhile Aemond stared at you instead, your face extremely beautiful as if you had been specially crafted by God himself, your eyes shone as brightly as the stars in the night sky and your hair that cascaded down your back like a waterfall. He couldn't stop admiring you.

He watched as your lips parted when you let out a satisfied sigh, wondering how they'd taste, would they be sweet as they look? He wanted to taste you.

His eye widened in realisation at his own behaviour and thoughts, mind spiralling down a hole knowing that he shouldn't be thinking this way, his closed his eye and took a deep breath, trying to push off all the feelings away but when he opened his eye back again, he was faced with you who looked at him ever so concerningly.

The warm feeling in his heart only growing stronger each and every moment. “Aemond? Is everything alright?” You ask and he nods, “Yeah everything is fine, it's just..” ‘I wanna kiss you.’ He wants to say it so badly, “I just feel under the weather.” He lies.

He lied.

Aemond never lied.

You find it odd but brush it off and leave the matter at that, focusing on the rain outside once again watching as the droplets trailed down the window.

Aemond feels hot on the inside, a burning sensation of itchiness that urges to be scratched, he excuses himself and goes into the bedroom, saying he needs rest, once again, a lie, he shuts the door to the room and you're left alone in the living space.

Deciding not to think much, you began cooking lunch, making soup for the hundredth time.

Aemond leans against the door, breathing heavily as his body grows hotter and hotter every moment, there's a weird sensation between his legs that makes it hard for him to focus on anything else, he looks at the bulge in his pants and touches it, wincing at the electricity that shoots through him.

It's painful.

He knows that whatever he's feeling is wrong.

But it's too painful to bear.

He closes his eyes trying to collect himself but he cannot contain himself, and so he slowly grabs the bulge giving it slight squeezes for it to stop the feeling but not enough to make it go away.

Why is the human body like this?

Why couldn't he control his desires like he did when he was in his angel form?

He slowly pushed his hand down the material of the breeches and held his cock, he grips it which makes him choke out a moan at the sensation.

It felt good.

And so he slowly starts stroking it up and down, curiously experimenting by brushing his thumb against the tip which causes him to whimper, he clasps his own mouth shut at the noise he made but doesn't stop stroking himself.

Muffled noises of soft moans fill the room as he touches himself wondering why the feeling isn't going away, he strokes himself faster which causes him to throw his head back against the door with a loud thud.

“... Aemond?” Your voice makes him stop all of his movements, “Y-yeah?” He replies, trying to sound normal, “I'm making soup, is that okay?” You inquired for his opinion and he replied a choked “Yes.”

He hears your footsteps walk away from the door and he continues to stroke himself, the memory of you calling out his name doing wonders to his imagination as he pictures you moaning his name beneath him, he rubs himself faster, grip tightening on his cock envisioning that he's fucking into your cunt instead of his own hand.

And before he can comprehend the imagery; he feels an immense amount of pleasure shoot through his entire body, making him see white and let out a loud muffled moan of your name o as he feels the wet liquid spurt out of his cock and onto his hand.

He's trembling by the time he's done, looking down at his now unclean hand, white liquid dripping down his palm, the situation of what he had done weighing heavily upon him, the feeling of dread seeping into his body- and so he lets out a soft sigh.

What has he done?

He quickly finds a cloth to wipe himself off and uses the water in the bowl beside the table to wash his hands, he sees his own reflection in the water, feeling disgusted at what he had done.

But it felt so good.

He quickly leaves the room to find you crouching down, tending to the fire as you prepare the soup on top of the heated slab. “Need help?” He asks and you flinch, looking at him with a flushed face, “Hm? O-Oh no need.” You look away quickly. He frowns wondering what happened, you stand up and reassure him that nothing has happened and push him towards the table to sit down. You slightly rub your thighs to ease the tension between them.

You couldn't focus; After all- you just overheard what he did inside the room, the muffled moans, the strokes, and when he called out your name. You heard it all.

The wooden doors aren't really good at covering noises.

A few days passed by quickly after that, the town began to see changes as the crops began sprouting quickly, and soon Aemond's mission was finally completed. Which meant he had to return to the heavens.

But he did not want to.

He actually feels guilty returning to heaven after what he did with his human body.

He was slowly putting his clothes away, ‘packing’ to leave when the door opens which reveals you. Your eyes glance over to the sack of clothes and you quickly realise what's happening.

“You're leaving.” It wasn't a question, but rather a statement which leaves your lips weighed heavily with sadness. Aemond felt something inside him crack as he looked at your solemn expression.

“I have something I want to confess before I leave.” He speaks up and your eyes glint with hope, wondering if he'll confess his feelings to you finally- “I'm an angel.”

…

“Aemond, now isn't the time to be joking.” You furrow your brows but he shakes his head, coming closer to you and holding your hand, “I am not, I came here on a mission to solve humanity's problems and now I have to return to the heavens.” He can't stop speaking, no matter how much the voice inside him tells him that he shouldn't be revealing his true identity to humans. “Aemond, this is not funny-”

“I'm not trying to be funny, I am not lying, here I'll prove it to you.” He lets go of your hand, and moves to the window, and your eyes widen as the sudden sunny weather darkens and rain begins to fall.

You shall not reveal your identity.

You shall not flaunt your powers.

“Is that enough for you to believe me?” He asks and you're shocked, “Are you really..?” You question and he nods. The air shifts and you realise that you're in a heavenly presence which makes you scared- “Be not afraid.” He tells you and your breath hitches in your throat.

He moves closer to you again, caressing your cheek, “I'm telling you all this because- I don't know, I don't want to leave you behind.” He admits truthfully. “But if you're an angel, then we can’t-” You try to speak, but he cuts you off, “I know.”

“Truth be told, I have no idea what it is about you that made me hold such feelings towards you, but all I know is that I want you, I desire you, I need you.” He grips your shoulders, hands digging into your flesh.

You must not seek out a human.

You must not engage in worldly pleasures.

The atmosphere is filled with silence and tension as you look down, unable to form a sentence as your thoughts feel too complicated to process and Aemond just stares at you.

‘Do it.’ he hears a voice at the back of his head.

‘You want her, so do it.’ It encourages him.

‘If you want her, you must claim her.’ It's evil.

‘But I have to return to the heavens.’

‘Will you truly be happy in heaven?’

‘I'm not sure.’

‘Without her? Will you be able to continue to live without her?’

‘I do not know..’

‘If you do not claim her, she will fall in love with another mortal man, will you be able to stand it? Watch down from the heavens with the realisation that she was never yours?’

‘But I must not, I will soil myself, I do not want to give into the worldly pleasures.’

‘Hah, you're a fool, do as you wish, just remember that once you leave, she will never be yours, she will belong to another man.’

‘Stop.’

‘-She will be touched by another man, kissed, caressed, hugged, all the things you want to do to her'

‘Stop.’ Aemond tries resisting the anger that fills him when he imagines another man touching you.

‘She will get fucked by another man, and you'll watch it happen.’

“That's enough!” Aemond screams which startles you, “Aemond?” He looks at you, and your eyes widen when you realise something in his eye has changed, his pupil resembles that of a reptile. “What's wrong—” You're cut off from your words as he presses his lips against you, electricity courses through your body when you feel his soft lips against yours.

His lips move messily against yours, and he tastes just like honey, you try to resist wanting to tell him that this is wrong, and rationalise that he'll be cast out from heaven if he engages in intimacy with you but you aren't able to form coherent words because of the way he's constantly cutting you off with messy kisses.

“I want you, I need you, I can't let you be with any other man other than me.”

You're conflicted on whether you should encourage this but you remain silent, and aemond takes your silence as an agreement, he slowly slides off his robes and fully shows himself naked in front of you.

He's working on your clothes next, pulling them off you in swift motions before you're left standing bare just like him, he cups your cheek and tilts your face towards him, “Aemond… you'll be punished.” Your voice is laced with concern. “Look at you.. Always concerned for me, it doesn't matter anymore, I've made up my mind.” He pushes you towards the bed and onto it before climbing on top of you.

He places the soft pillow below your head for comfort before he trails soft kisses on your face, down to your neck, breasts and stomach.

“Beautiful, my beautiful lady.” He mutters against your skin, pecking and pulling it between his teeth. “Your body is so beautiful, your frame, everything about it is so beautiful.” He praises peppering kisses being placed on your breasts. He watches in awe as your nipples harden and poke up, and so he wets his lips before opening them and taking your nipple into his mouth, sighing softly in satisfaction.

His tongue swirls around your nipple, playing with the bud and flicking it up and down, the suckling noises that leave his mouth are sinful that makes you wet down there, you grind up against him to feel at ease.

The room begins to get hot and your small gasps and whines fill the air, accompanied by his grunts of satisfaction, that he finally got to touch you like this. He leaves your breast with a pop before focusing his attention onto the other one. “Aemond…” You wail and he looks at you, “... need you down here.” Those words leave your mouth unexpectedly as you rub your clit and he immediately listens to you letting go of your breast.

He travels down until he's directly faced with your cunt, he watches in amusement as your essence drips out of your hold which he licks up and brings up to your clit and suckles on it. “Hggnh!” You arch your back in pleasure as you feel tingles all over your body, your cunt pulsing around nothing when you feel his tongue play with your clit.

He nibbles on your clit, his teeth slightly poking it which makes slight pain shoot up your body. His tongue moves up and down, from your hole to your clit, he sucks on the flaps of your cunt harshly that causes you to whimper.

You feel his finger prodding at your opening before he slowly pushed it inside, “Fuck Aemond!” You let out a whine when you felt how his finger was stretching you out whilst his tongue worked magic on your clit.

He slowly pumped his finger in and out, letting you adjust to it before pushing another one inside which made you shriek but he hushed you with a kiss to your clit, and soon enough- the slow licking of your bud and the pumping of his fingers made you reach your peak. You clenched your eyes shut at the impact of your orgasm; feeling as if your whole body was set on fire, you saw plain white as your whole body quivered because of him.

He pulls his face away and draws back his finger only for him to put his fingers in his mouth, loving the way you tasted. He climbed upward until he was face to face with you and kissed you, making you taste your essence.

“So beautiful.” He says softly as he sees your dazed expression and messy hair, the way your lips are parted slightly as you take deep breaths.

He couldn't contain himself anymore.

He wasted no time in lining himself against your entrance and slowly pushing inside, you gasped when you felt how big he was, but you didn't stop him but instead held onto his shoulder as he pushed it inside inch by inch.

His hair cascaded around his face, making him look angelic, he closed his eye; gasping for air when he felt you clench around him. The way your walls were wrapped around him drove him insane; he couldn't hold back any longer as something in him cracked, his pace was messy and fast, almost desperate as if he was waiting his entire lifetime for this.

The sound of thrusts echo in the room as he speeds up, your back arches in pleasure when you feel him hit a certain spot inside you, his hands grip your waist as a leverage as he constantly thrusts deep and deeper inside you.

He feels like he is in heaven again, the feeling of you finally being his and how you're squirming underneath him, moaning his name, not anyone else's.

“You feel so good.” He grunts, “so fucking good— my love.” he places a kiss on your breast, before looking at you once again, your eyes staring directly at him. The sight of you beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist as you try to grind into him, indicating that you want him too makes him go feral.

His thrusts soon become sloppy, he knows he's gonna finish in mere moments, so he angles his thrusts upwards— hitting your sweet spot multiple times— making you see stars when you peak.

He's almost blinded when he feels his orgasm hit him, the intensity of the sensation being way too much to handle, he lets out a loud moan as he slowly rides out his orgasm all the while pumping you full of his seed.

He pulls out moments later and lays down beside you, trying to catch his breath, and you pull him closer for a hug.

Everything goes quiet for a few moments as you both try to recover.

Only for the silence to be broken by Aemond agonising screams.

“Aemond?” You panic not knowing what's happening.

Aemond feels as though his entire body was on fire, and then the flesh on his back distorts as his white angel wings spring out of it, you stand there in awe when you look at them, they're white feathers, but soon that emotion of amusement is replaced by pure horror when you see it be forcefully get ripped apart from his back by an invisible force of nature.

You scream in terror, while Aemond tries to bear the pain, he knew this would happen sooner or later, but he couldn't help but scream as the pain of having his wings ripped apart and pulled from his back is agonising.

Maybe the curse of being God's favourite was real.

And what Aemond is facing right now is God's punishment for trudging the path of temptation.

“Please- it hurts.” Aemond croaks in agony.

You feel helpless, not being able to do anything except watch, you just cradle his face, his hand grips onto yours tightly.

And soon it's done.

You could only watch as tears dripped down from his eye.

His once beautiful angel wings were ripped apart, the feathers all over the room and the only thing that remained of it were the scars of the wound on his back.

The scar that indicates the two wings were pulled out.

An angel without wings.

A fallen angel.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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acres-of-fuzzy-tomatoes · 2 days

Text

Party Pooper || Misa Rodríguez x Reader

Summary: Misa gets jealous when you test her patience during a night out with your teammates.

Warnings: This fic contains smut (minors do not interact), anal fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of double penetration, praise, degradation, light bondage, consensual non-consensual sex (if you squint at the very last line in the fic), fuck buddies with not-angsty feelings, mentions of strap-on use

Word Count -- 6.6k words

The room around you was filled with boisterous laughter, loud Spanish music, and the sound of some dish shattering in the distance. Bodies milled about the room that your team had seemingly taken over, some of which you recognized and others that you didn’t.

Some people were dancing to whatever strong, musical beat was blasting through the club, grinding and slipping against both friends and strangers. Others, however, were sitting on benches or stools, talking and drinking. While there were many strangers in the building, you were also surrounded by your friends and football teammates from Real Madrid, celebrating a win in Liga A.

You were exhausted after playing a full ninety minutes of football– your legs ached, as did your stomach and arms. Each part of your body, honestly. Still, the smile etched on your face stayed consistent, even as the rest of your body shook and threatened to give out.

For fucks’ sake you really wanted a nap.

The longer that you sat down, the more your body refused to move, essentially aching out in protest each time you shifted your weight or stood up. However, you were determined to not be the first to leave what you now realized was a party, not a “little team movie night” as one of your teammates had said when trying to urge you to join them.

You had been dubbed one of the “lamest people on the team”, known for the way in which you silently, and quickly, left the scene whenever your social battery ran out. It was a joke for your teammates, and you, especially because you knew the reason for why you seemed to leave so early.

The reason herself was currently sitting across from you at the round table, her arms crossed behind her head. Given her position, it was easy for her to give you glances or smiles without making your teammates suspicious of the number of times you were looking at each other (which was a lot).

The more alcohol you consumed, the more you really wanted to perform your aforementioned disappearing act and steal Misa away from the party.

The top that Misa had chosen allowed for a bit of her tanned, toned abdomen to show as she leaned back against her seat. Her lids were hooded, and her eyes were dark, and the smirk which was present on her face simply made you want to pull her in and kiss her until all she could do was kiss back and keep up.

An elbow to your side had your head jerking slightly, completely disrupted from your thoughts. Raso sat next to you, her eyes narrowed at you as her smile widened a little bit. She looked from you to Misa, and you were quick to take her attention away from whatever she was trying to figure out.

“Wah-?” You asked, the singular word only a little slow to exit your mouth. You realized then that you should probably stop drinking if you wanted to have your way with Misa that night. You weren’t in a relationship, but your long history of being fuck buddies with the Spanish goalkeeper meant that you knew that she refused to have sex when she, or her partner, was inebriated beyond the point of giving conscious consent.

“We are playing ‘never have I ever’, will you pay attention?” This voice came from your other side, where Linda Caicedo sat. The Colombian international had had a little too much to drink, and her usual chill demeanor was breaking away to one which was a lot more giggly and sarcastic. You playfully rolled your eyes at the girl, nudging her back with your elbow before leaning forward so that you could hear whatever question was being asked.

Give it to your teammates to play something as childish as “never have I ever”. The girls had been trying to get any semblance of gossip out of you since you’d joined. You were, as they had oh-so-kindly put it, rather boring, much to everyone’s disappointment. However, while you were supposedly short on any type of drama, you knew that many of your other teammates were full to the brim with secrets and mysteries. What your teammates didn’t know, of course, was that the very bit of drama they were looking for was sitting across from each other at that very table, making awkward eye contact as more and more questions were asked.

The questions started out relatively simple– never have I ever gotten lost on the way to a match, never have I ever eaten calamari, never have I ever climbed a mountain. Then, the questions began to grow more targeted and, with that, more “juicy”. As always, you felt yourself being sucked into the anticipatory atmosphere of the rather childish game, just as you had when you’d been in middle school, and high school.

Never have I ever scored an own goal– this one got quite a few people on the team, many of whom were not happy to be reminded of those particular moments in their careers.

Never have I ever scored a hat-trick– this one was meant to target the defenders and the goalkeepers whom were around the table. Now, you could see the competitive fire start in your teammates eyes as they had to put a finger down.

Never have I ever slept with a teammate. ‘

The question came from your side, from the very Australian who had been surveying the tension between you and Misa all those minutes ago. You felt yourself freeze, your eyes involuntarily rising to look at Misa, before you quickly forced yourself to lean back and act nonchalant about the question.

However, you felt your abdominal muscles tense as you did so. Unfortunately, in your panic, you’d forgotten that your seat did not have anything at your back. The only thing which prevented you from taking an unfortunate fall to the ground was Linda’s arm going around your back and your own arms grasping onto the table, whose surface had become sticky from alcohol.

A few people laughed at your expense, and you saw Misa laugh as well, which sent what could only be described as liquid fire through your stomach. It was a feeling akin to one you’d felt during training, when someone made a tackle on you just before you were sure to score. As always, you rose to the challenge, to the feeling which you felt so strongly in your core– or, perhaps that was arousal. Both, it was probably both.

“Sorry– what was the question?” You asked, trying to distract the rest of the table from your near-tumble. As you sat back up, Linda’s arm remained around your back. You weren’t blind to the way that Misa’s eyes remained caught on contact between you and one of your best friends. In fact, her gaze was burning in its intensity– so much so that if looks could kill, Linda would have been 7 feet under (and counting). You tried hard to hide your smirk, thoroughly entertained by the entire ordeal.

Something which you had learned from sleeping with Misa was that she was jealous– some would even go so far as to call her possessive. You weren’t dating, but she would leave small bruises, hickies, and scratches on you which claimed you as hers. You weren’t dating, but she would become cranky when you flirted with other girls in front of her. The two of you weren’t dating, but when you’d mentioned that you’d once slept with Linda, just before the World Cup and just after she’d scored her first goal for Real Madrid, the girl had become insanely jealous. In fact, the night after you had informed Misa of your one night stand with your best friend, the girl had drawn such whimpers from you

You, on the other hand, weren’t nearly as jealous as the goalkeeper. The girl could flirt with anybody that she wanted, but you knew that it would be your name she would moan just a few hours later, not theirs. You were well aware that she was thinking of you when she was flirting, and how she was only doing it to get you jealous, and that fact alone entertained you more than anything else.

The girl had discovered certain weaknesses of yours, however. She was aware that a fleeting touch from her hand against your arm, or the feeling of her outer thigh pressed against your own could send your mind jetpacking straight into the clouds.

You found it hard to focus when she was touching you, especially when she knew what she was doing to you. Misa enjoyed turning your mind to mush with simple touches and words, loved to watch how you tried to focus on whatever was going on around you and how you miserably failed.

You did, however, relish in the consequences of riling up Misa. You adored the way that Misa was tender with you, the way that she would kiss you like you were her world, her touches gentle and meaningful. You loved the way that Misa could be passionate with you, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you as she yearned to hear each and every moan which tumbled from your mouth, wanted to see the way that your head fell back and your breaths grew whiny as you came.

You hadn’t riled up Misa in a while, and a part of you was yearning that from her tonight– the marks, the possessiveness which the goalkeeper was known for, the passion. You wanted it all, and Misa’s smirk had become the straw which broke the camel’s back.

“I said…” Hayley began, eyes crinkling at the corners as she seemed to catch on that something was certainly going on between you and the Spanish goalkeeper. At that moment, however, you couldn’t find it in you to care, hanging on to her every word as she repeated the question. “Never have I ever slept with a teammate.”

You allowed a blush to coat your cheeks, eyelashes fluttering as you bit at your lip. Slowly, and almost theatrically, you put your finger down. You didn’t need to look to know that Linda had also put her finger down, along with a few other people around the table. The focus, however, was on you.

“Has tenido- You have slept with a team member? De este equipo? No wayyyy- Linda y tu? Loca. Todo. So crazy, you are crazy.” Before you could stop it, your teammates began to make assumptions, their voices heavy with interest.

Given that Linda had yet to drop her hand from around you and the way which you were both blushing, the easiest assumptions to be drawn were between the two of you. Of course, they weren’t wrong– you had slept with Linda, albeit more than a year ago.

However, your current… friend with benefits was across from you, the finger which she had put down going unnoticed by your teammates as they sought to figure out just what had gone on with you and Caicedo.

Misa was absolutely stewing in her seat, her eyes narrowed and so dark that you nearly couldn’t see the whites of her pretty eyes. Gone was the easy-going persona which had been leaning back in her seat. Now, the girl was leaning forward, the hand which had already been freed as she’d put down fingers was now clenched tightly, so much so that you worried she may cut herself with her nails. Her jaw was set, and it was obvious that the girl was gritting her teeth. Despite how obviously upset the girl was, your insides fluttered in anticipation, and you simply smiled at Misa, as though you’d done nothing wrong.

Misa was fucking livid.

Even as your teammates began to move on, given that neither you nor Linda was saying much about the one time that you had slept together. The damage was done, and you could see it in the way that Misa was looking at you– her livid gaze had you dripping, if you were going to be completely honest. Who could blame you? She looked sexy when she was pissed off.

A few more questions were prompted, but you were hardly paying attention to them. Your gaze was locked on Misa’s hardened one, and while Misa was figuring out how she was going to punish you for your earlier stunts, you were thinking about how nice Misa’s nipple would feel in your mouth-

Misa got up, barging her way past the teammates who sat to her left as she circled around the table. You felt her before you heard her, in the way that her palm met the skin of your neck as she rested her hand on your shoulder. She leaned in, so much so that you could smell mint and the barest hints of alcohol on the goalkeepers’ breath.

You were so distracted by those two sensations alone that you nearly missed the words coming out of Misa’s (really pretty) mouth.

“Nos vamos a ir porque te sientes cansado.” You understood every word, having played in Spain for long enough to understand more than enough Spanish to get by. Despite this, you needed a moment to process what Misa was saying. The sheer dominance in her tone and mannerisms had you clenching your thighs beneath the table and nibbling absentmindedly on your bottom lip. You were lucky that the vast majority of the table was beyond distracted with the current conversation– some dramatic reality television show which the girls were watching together.

Misa wanted to leave and, of course, she would make you take the blame for it. Only a moment after you processed what the goalkeeper had whispered into the shell of your ear, the girl was standing up to announce it to the rest of your teammates.

“La chica está cansada, I will take her home.” Misa’s voice still dripped with possessiveness and self-assuredness. Usually, it was the kind of tone which would have you drawing away from the other person, annoyed.

It had the opposite effect, and you allowed Misa to help you out of the stool under the pretense that you were a bit too drunk to stand on your own. Misa’s hand went around your middle, almost the exact same way that Linda had earlier. You two took a moment to say your goodbyes, and Misa’s arm stayed around you the entire time.

Just before you’d turned around, you caught Raso sending you a wink.

Misa’s hand splayed out over your side, her fingers stroking over the fabric of your top. As she guided you away from your teammates, goosebumps erupted over your skin. You were sensitive to the other girls’ touch, the bit of alcohol which remained in your system only heightening the feeling.

The trip to Misa’s car was short, but it seemed like an eternity with the way that Misa was teasing you. Her fingers had begun to wander, going upward to poke at your ribs, before running up and down your side. She was silent as she did so, allowing the hitch in your breath to be heard as her hand left your side to lower itself, sharply squeezing your bum.

“Misa-” You gasped, and you heard the girl scoff.

“Aha, now you want to be saying my name. Earlier, it was about Caicedo, but now that she is gone and you have me, it is all about me.” Misa said, voice thickly accented, as it always became when her feelings were heightened.

“Misa- It’s you, it’s always been you. Please.” You gasped, as Misa squeezed you again. You were putty in her hands. If Misa had asked you to kneel right then and there, you would have– without question.

Instead, she drew you over to her car. Despite her obvious annoyance, she opened your car door and helped you inside. Just before she closed it, she planted a soft kiss against your cheek, her hand gently running along your jawline.

“Eres la mujer más bella del mundo.” You swore that you were so close that you were breathing the same air. You were utterly intoxicated, but not by the alcohol that you’d consumed– by Misa’s touch, her eyes, her voice. You swore you were floating as you gently grabbed her sides, tugging her in for another kiss before you allowed her to part from you. She shut the door, and you watched as she rounded the vehicle to go to the driver's seat.

Only once you’d had space from the Spanish girl were you able to decipher what she’d said to you.

You are the most beautiful woman in the world.

You thought about her words as she climbed into the car, as she shut the door and started the vehicle. You thought about them when she placed her hand on your thigh, as she hummed some Spanish tune which lilted over the radio.

You are the most beautiful woman in the world– words that you’d never before applied to yourself. You’d never believe yourself to be especially beautiful. Growing up, you’d thought yourself to be nothing more than average. However, when Misa said that you were gorgeous, looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky, you believed them.

You felt emotions, then, that you’d never felt before. Perhaps it was love, but you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you were ravenous, thirsty for the way which Misa grabbed possessively at your inner thigh. You squeezed your legs together, only for Misa to pull them back apart.

“No, no. You were not shy in the club, do not be shy now.” Misa chastised you, and you now had to keep yourself from letting your head fall back into the headrest. Instead, a groan broke free of your lips, your hand planting itself on top of Misa’s.

“Misa, por favor. No puedo. I can’t.” “Already begging, amor? I have not touched you. Are you needy already, is this all for Caicedo?” Misa inquired, voice a little bit edged and jagged as she prompted you– not dissimilar to a serrated knife, if you truly thought about it.

You were tense, trapped within the confines of Misa’s question. If you said yes, she would probably lose her fucking mind and punish you– even more so than she was already planning. If you said no, then you would be giving in, and also revealing that you’d been getting off on the fact that you were making Misa jealous. As much as you relished your pride, you weren’t keen on being edged for a week as you had been in the past by the goalkeeper.

“No, Misa. For fuck’s sake, it’s all for you.” You groaned, giving in. You were absolutely aching, skin almost tingling beneath Misa’s touch. You couldn’t remember ever being so needy, especially in recent months, but here you were, desperate and nearly whiny from just a bit of teasing and “innocent” touching.

You were so, so thankful when Misa finally pulled into the car park in front of her apartment.

Given that your relationship was, technically, a secret, you and Misa tried not to touch each other as you made your way towards her front door. Her neighbors should have been asleep, but you could never be too careful. Despite this, every part of you ached to touch the other girl, especially as you felt how shaky you’d become from your time in the car. Your legs felt like lead, threatening to collapse beneath you, and your hands jittered as though you were competing in a Champions League final instead of simply walking into your frequent fuck buddy’s home.

Misa was on you the second that the door was shut and locked behind her, pressing you back into the wall behind yourself. You hardly heard the soft thump of your back hitting the wood due to the moan you let out as Misa set to kissing at your neck. Her lips nipped and sucked, trailing along your neck in the way she knew would have you melting beneath her touch.

You’d been together so many times, and each time Misa discovered a new part of you. In a way, Misa had mapped your body out in her mind, traveling paths new and old as she found new ways to have you writhing and moaning her name.

Your hands met Misa’s hips, pulling her ever closer to you as her own hands ventured beneath your top. Her palms ran along your stomach, up to your ribs, before palming at your breasts over the bra that you’d worn.

You’d already been wet before Misa had even really touched you, and by now you were sure that you’d soaked through your underwear. Your brain could hardly form a cognitive thought, save for how badly you wanted to-

Misa’s lips were on yours as she pressed against you, her hands having left your shirt. Your breasts felt colder, somehow, without the heat of her hands pressed against them. Her lips were soft against yours, but demanding in the pace at which she kissed you.

You had no choice but to try to keep up as she sucked your lower lip in between her own, brushing her top teeth against the skin there in a way which had you arching your back, pressing yourself impossibly closer to the goalkeeper.

All the while, Misa had slipped one muscled thigh between your own. She flexed the muscle, making it firmer as she pressed it into you. Almost reflexively, you ground down against it, nearly collapsing inward at the brief bit of friction you were allowed against your aching core.

Mira’s tongue grazed your lip next, almost working to soothe the spot that had previously been irritated by her teeth. Then, she slipped her tongue into your mouth, exploring and nudging it against your tongue. As she completely took over the kiss, her hand moved to cup your jaw, furthering to deepen the kiss as she tilted your head to the side.

Your next moan was swallowed by Misa’s mouth as you rolled your hips, grinding down against her leg. Your movements were rapid as you tried to gain relief, and Misa was quick to let go of your jaw. Your head fell backward, against the wall, and you swore you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your mouth opened, and a high-pitched whine tumbled out. So consumed in everything that was Misa, you didn’t even have the time to feel embarrassed over the sheer neediness of the noise.

“F-Fuck, Misa,” You panted, followed by a drawn-out groan of disappointment as Misa grabbed your hips and stilled them, pinning you against the wall. “No-”

“Sí, you have not earned the right to come. Where has my good girl gone, the one who listens to me? The one who behaves?” Misa whispered, leaning in so that she could speak into your ear. Your body yearned to continue rutting against Misa’s thigh, but you resisted the urge to do so out of fear of what Misa would do.

A pinch at the skin just above your hip had you realizing that Misa wanted you to answer her.

“Here. Estoy aquí, contigo.” If you’d thought speaking in Misa’s native language would have earned you any favors, you were sorely mistaken. The girl made no move to allow you to continue grinding against her thigh, and you whined again. It was pathetic, really, how easily Misa could wind you up and put you back in your place, and damn if it didn’t have your mind reeling for her evermore, “Misa. Please, por favor. I will do anything that you want and more, please just… let me come.”

Misa chucked at that, then. She was so close to you that her breaths brushed against your cheek, and a small part of the side of your neck, tickling the bottom of your ear. Each sensation was beginning to feel nearly overwhelming– between the throbbing between your legs, the hunger in your body for more of whatever the fuck Misa was doing to you, the beatiful pressure of Misa’s body against yours… it was all nearly too much for you.

“I have barely begun, and you are already begging? Zorrita, such a little slut, hm? Who do you belong to? Remind me, por favor.” Misa’s accent was somehow thicker than ever before, harsh and degrading in ways that had your mind spinning. Despite her words, her fingers had stopped digging into your skin, instead gently rubbing at your sides, helping to ground you and slow your thoughts. She’d also stopped pushing you so harshly into the wall, allowing you to relax into her just the slightest bit more.

You hardly noticed them, but you were thankful all the same. You felt a little bit less floaty, and the contrast between her fingers on your waist and her voice in your ear served to turn you on even more, which you’d thought was impossible.

The way at which Misa could be so attentive and gentle, whilst also serving to be so dominating and chastising was something which you would only have time to marvel at later.

“You- you, only you. Please, I didn’t mean it.” Your voice is high-pitched, higher than you think you had ever gone. It’s a plea that falls on deaf ears, though, as you hear Misa scoff. She’s grabbing your thighs, tapping them as she pulls you away from the wall.

As you jump up, the girl pulls you into her, and you naturally wrap your arms around her shoulders. The contact between the two of you is what you’d been craving, another semblance of comfort which further grounded you.

“You are okay?” Misa asked, kissing your cheek gently as you lay your head against her shoulder.

“I am okay.” You confirm, twisting your head and kissing Misa’s neck.

The girl nods, although you feel it more than see it as she begins to carry you. It is a path that you know well, and one that the two of you had traveled many, many times before.

Misa kicked her door closed behind you with your foot, carrying you towards the foot of her bed before dropping you down. Your body bounced against the mattress, and your body relaxed into the sheets as Misa’s familiar scent enveloped your being.

“You know your safe word, yes?” Misa confirmed, tapping your bare thigh once to make sure that you were paying attention.

“Yes.” You confirmed, and Misa tapped your thigh again.

“Words, mi amor. What is your safe word?” Misa prompted, still standing an appropriate distance away from you. She did this each time you slept together, always making sure that you had established your boundaries before continuing with anything that was going on. It was something that you appreciated, and it was communication which was needed.

“My safe word is apple,” You began, and resisted the urge to roll your eyes as Misa smirked. You were allergic to apples, something which Misa had only learned after she’d tried making a dish which had apples in it. You had gone into shock, and had had to be brought to the hospital. You’d been given an epipen, but had used the word as your safe word ever since, given that all you’d been able to gasp throughout the experience was the word “apple”.

“If, for whatever reason, I am unable to speak, I tap your outer thigh three times,” You continued, voice unwavering. The words were well rehearsed, but it never hurt to go through your ground rules once more. “And you?”

“Banana,” Misa said, having chosen a fruit as well, since she felt like she had to stay on theme. After all, you were having… very “fruity” sex. The humor of your choice of words had never been lost on you, and had become somewhat of an inside joke between the two of you. “If I can not speak, I will tap your outer thigh three times.”

Without further ado, Misa’s hands were on your ankles. She gave you a sharp tug, pulling your entire body across the expanse of her bed, towards her. You let out an unceremonious squeal of surprise, cheeks blushing red at the suddenness of the action as Misa allowed your legs to drop off the edge of the bed.

The girl moved between your legs, running her hands up your sides before climbing up on top of you. She kissed you, harshly, moving one hand to your jaw to control the kiss once more. She licked into your mouth, exploring and dominating the kiss before separating from you.

Her hands left your body as she sat up, grabbing the bottom of her shirt and tugging it up and over the expanse of her fit torso. Finally, your eyes had the chance to take in Misa’s abdomen in its entirety, which really should have been included in the Wonders of the World. You’d only been graced with flashes of abdomen and muscle throughout the night, and your hands were quick to settle themselves on Misa’s lower stomach as the girl lowered herself back down on top of you.

“You are so pretty, the prettiest.” Misa praised you, her hands now going to the bottom of your shirt. She tapped your sides, signaling for you to sit up, and you did. The girl tugged your shirt off as well, running her hands up and down your stomach appreciatively as she did so. Her dark eyes took you in, drinking in each piece of exposed skin as though she was never going to see it again.

She surprised you, then, by moving back and settling herself over your thighs, bending down at the waist. You felt something wet slide against your abdomen, surprising you. Your entire body bolted at the sensation of Misa’s wet tongue licking at your stomach, and couldn’t help the moan which released itself from your lips. Misa took several moments to herself, kissing and licking and sucking at the soft skin of your stomach, cherishing it as she did so.

She began to move up, kissing over your ribs and slowly pushing your bra over your breasts. She kissed at your left breast first, before taking the nipple in her mouth and swirling her tongue around the sensitive bud. Your back arched beneath her ministrations, a low groan leaking out of your mouth as one of her steady hands squeezed at your other breast.

“Misa- Misa, fuck.” You whispered, and just as suddenly, Misa was tilting her head up. You looked down, and her intense gaze had you trying to clench your thighs together. The girl felt it, though, given that she was between those very thighs, and smirked.

“Que? Repite, say that again.” Misa said, voice low.

“What…?” You asked, almost wondrously. Even to your own ears, you sounded dazed.

“Say that again. Who is making you feel like this? Who is making you feel so good, hm?” As Misa speaks, the hand which isn’t still squeezing at your breast is trailing absentmindedly down your abdomen. The touch is distracting, and your body aches to follow it, to arch up into the touch. However, Misa’s body weight on your own prevents you from doing what you wanted to do.

Her hand toys at your waistline, only for a moment, before dipping below the cloth. Her hand is warm, and you think that she’s just teasing you, as Misa is prone to do. However, you were sorely mistaken as the girls’ finger dipped between your folds. A whimper fell from your lips, absolutely desperate and whiny as it was heard by both of you. Misa swiped a finger through your folds, swirling it around your clit– almost playfully, in fact, but stopped, her eyes still on your own.

You whined again, trying to lift your hips to encourage the girl to touch you more.

“No. Dime quién, who is it? Is it Linda, mm? I do not think so. It is me, say it.” Misa’s accent is thick, littered with Spanish words which you cannot even begin to try to translate. Her words drip with dominance, with possession, and you swore you would do everything and anything in the world for her to continue what she had been doing. At that moment, you were all Misa’s, willing to bend to her every wish and will to get what you wanted.

Nobody had ever drawn these exact sensations and feelings from you, and there was a certain intimacy in the knowledge that only Misa had ever done these things to you.

Oh.

Fuck.

“No, no it’s not Lind-ahhh,” your breath hitched, as Misa slipped a singular digit into you. Despite how wet you were, it was still a stretch, and her thumb worked at your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body which had you squirming beneath the goalkeeper. “Fuck- fuck,”

“Who? Who makes you feel this good?” Misa’s voice absolutely oozed with self-assuredness, almost teasing in the way she curled her finger inside of you. She knew the movement was an incredibly pleasurable one for you, drawing yet another broken whine from you.

“You, fuck Misa, jesus christ. You, only you– fuck.”

“Good girl, so good for me, yes? Only for me. You were made for me, a hole to fuck for my fingers, my tongue, my strap.” You whimpered again, unable to even conjure up a verbal response for the goalkeeper. She curled the finger inside of you again before slipping out of you completely.

The absence had you whining, but as Misa rolled off of you, she gently placed a kiss on your lips to silence you.

“Sh, you’ve been so good for me. We would not want to ruin that now, hm?”

You watched as the girl went to her knees in front of the bed, hands finding your thighs before beginning to tug down the piece of clothing which you still had on. Before she’d really begun pulling the piece off of your legs, however, the girl looked at you.

“Can I take this off?” Misa asked you, gently tugging the elastic of your underwear back before letting it snap against your skin. You squealed, and Misa chastised you a little bit, eyes glimmering with an emotion which you were unable to place. “Words, bella, or I stop.”

“Yes, yes. Fuck, take them off!” You were quick to urge the goalkeeper, truly not wanting the night to be over.

Then, Misa did as she’d already begun to do, pulling your pants and underwear off in one swift motion. You were left bare before her, and tried your hardest to resist covering yourself. For just a moment, Misa sat there and watched you, observant as ever. Her eyes caught on your breasts, and your hardened nipples, on the way that your chest moved up and down with each breath you took. Then, her eyes moved to take in your face, and a smile moved onto her face.

“What?” You asked, a little bit nervous that she was making fun of you when you were most bare and vulnerable. She never had before, always making sure to cherish each part of you, but that didn’t make you any less on edge, especially in this moment.

“I can’t believe that I get to fuck the most beautiful girl in the world.” Misa said. There it was again, the words which had made you swoon before.

“Oh, stop!” You said, scoffing.

“Es verdad. It is true. You are gorgeous, I think it every day.” Before you’d ever slept with Misa, you’d never believed her to be such a charmer. You’d been incredibly wrong, as the girl took each small moment to make sure you knew that you were special, loved, and beautiful in every single way.

Your bra was still on, and so you sat up to take it off. After you did so, you leaned forward to curve your fingers along Misa’s jaw, tugging her head towards you. She met you in the middle, kissing you firmly. Then, her hands pushed your shoulders back so that you were flopping back down onto the mattress.

Without further ado, the girls’ face was between your legs. She gave you a few tentative licks, to get used to the sensation, before diving in.

Your hands clenched into the sheets below your body, a wild moan breaking free from your mouth as your back arched upward. Your eyes closed as you pushed your head back into the bed, baring yourself even further as pleasure overcame you.

The other girl sucked your clit into her mouth before she used her hand to slip a finger into you. She curled it as she continued to eat you out, licking at your clit at a steady, vigorous pace which had you seeing stars as she matched it with the finger inside of you.

Then, she was slipping another finger into you. She gave you a moment to get used to the delicious stretch before continuing, curling the fingers deep inside of you in a way that had you swearing. Your mind was far gone, in the clouds as Misa lapped at you.

Suddenly, Misa was changing the pace. She grabbed your ankles and threw them over her shoulders before continuing to lick at you. The new angle gave her more to work with, allowing her to lick into you deeper, and you swore again.

Your knuckles were white from how tightly they were balled into the sheets, and then you felt it. Something was probing at your other hole, and you whimpered. You and Misa had experimented with anal before, and you knew from experience how intensely pleasurable it felt to have a plug in one hole and Misa pumping into you with a strap in the other.

You could remember a time when she’d been doing that, fucking into you harshly while you had a butt plug up your ass. The sensations you’d felt had had you whimpering, despite the fact that you’d been supposed to be silent– it had been a punishment for running your mouth. Without thinking much of it, Misa had shoved two of her fingers into your mouth, slipping them in so deeply that you’d gagged around the digits.

You could still remember the words that she’d said to you like it was yesterday, “That is it, taking it like a good girl. Just so greedy, wanting me in every single one of your holes like a cockdrunk whore.”

The memory of that night was almost similar to this one, as Misa gently worked a finger into your asshole. You whimpered at the burning feeling there, but Misa’s tongue at your clit overcame any semblance of pain which you felt.

Your moans reached a peak, then, as your thighs trembled helplessly. You’d lost your ability to form words, and you swore you saw white spots crossing your vision as the pressure in your stomach snapped, similar to a coil.

Pleasure jolted throughout your body, up and down your legs, in your belly, pulsating and causing you to buck your hips uncontrollably against Misa’s face, chasing your high. As you came down, however, you couldn’t help but try to wiggle away from where Misa was still licking at you.

The girl allowed you to wiggle, just for a moment, and took your legs from where they had been locked over her shoulders. However, just as she withdrew her finger from your ass, she slipped another finger into your pussy. You moaned, jolting away from the overwhelming sensation, but Misa was quick to pull you back towards her again.

“No, no. You were so eager to be naughty earlier, and now you will pay. You have one more in you, I know that you do.”

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