#took a while to find the perfect face claim but i'm pretty satisfied :)) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

allysunny · 6 months

Note

yay, so happy to hear that you have your requests open now!

may i please request a miguel x f!reader fic in which the reader is a queen and miguel is her personal knight. they’re madly in love but must keep their forbidden relationship under wraps because of obvious class differences and reader’s marriage to the king. to make matters worse, reader finds out that she’s carrying miguel’s child 🫣

Royal Secret | Knight Miguel O'Hara x Queen Fem!Reader

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: Infidelity (reader is having an affair), unexpected pregnancy, misogynistic husband and remarks, some angst, some feels, Miguel is absolutely whipped for you. Do tell if I forgot anything!

A/N: Hello!!! Gosh, it's been a while since I've written anything! I've missed this so much :) So, I was really excited when I got this request, because I myself am a huge fan of Royal AUs, especially those with knights, hehehe. It also felt like a huge responsibility because omg a request like this is a serious thing.

I'm not sure I like how it turned out - I've been writing a lot for uni, and it took me a while to get into the writing mindset, but once I got it, I just kept going. I'm not entirely sure I'm satisfied with it - I kept worrying and worrying that it wasn't good enough. But I hope that you will like it and that it will live up to your expectations! :)

Council meetings were boring. This you knew and stressed to mainly anyone in your inner circle.

Mostly because your husband the King would not allow a single peep from you. In his eyes, your opinion was as worthless as a commoner’s.

No, even worse. A commoner, should he be a man, would probably be allowed more insight on any royal matters than you. All your husband wanted from you during these council meetings was your silent presence. For him, having you sit pretty and quiet by his side was a sign of strength. A sign that your marriage was successful, that you were a Queen loyal to her King, that you’d be always beside him.

For you, it meant you’d lose an entire morning (and sometimes half of an afternoon) listening to your husband as he blabbed away on topics such as economics and politics.

You scoffed whenever one of his suggestions were met with the approving nods and cheers of other noblemen and councillors. What they did not know, was that every day before retiring to your chambers, you would discuss with him the topics mentioned during these meetings and give him your own two cents on the matter, away from prying eyes. He’d laugh at you and claim you too pretty to form a coherent thought (although to him, it was always amusing to see you try), telling you to leave the important conversations for the big, strong men.

In his council chambers, he would steal your input, and gain the admiration of everyone around him. It wasn’t exactly rewarding, but at least you were helping your kingdom, even if indirectly. Even if you did not get any recognition from it. Even if your husband’s councillors thought of you only as a pretty face and nothing else.

It was all for the good of the kingdom.

The good of the kingdom was your priority, now and always.

“I thank you, gentlemen, for your presence today.” Your husband’s voice boomed through the room, and he stood up, the rest of the council following right after. You could count those who truly cared about the wellbeing and prosperity of Arakhneva with your fingers. Most of them were here solely for the status or perks of being close to the King. Never mind them – no matter how much you advised your husband to keep those conniving opportunists away, but as always, he refused to listen.

“This meeting is over. You are dismissed.” Having said this, the men curtsied at him, acknowledged you with a solemn nod, and made their way towards the exit. Once they were all gone, you stood up, doing the best you could to hide the way you were stretching. Those four hours spent sitting alongside him left your body sore. Unable to slouch, doze off, or look anything short of perfect.

“The meeting seems to have gone according to plan.” Your husband said, not sparing you a single look.

“Indeed, it has.” You didn’t particularly look forward to small talk with this man. Although you two shared the same name and similar titles, you had no affection for him whatsoever. In fact, as often as you could, you made up excuses not to share a bed with him. Sometimes you were sick. For more than half of the month, you had “lady troubles” (it’s not like your doctors know any better. And it’s not like you ever allowed them to look at you. They had only your word to act upon). Sometimes you were lucky and managed to tire him out before it was nighttime, and he felt too exhausted to even propose such a thing. But to everyone else, you were avidly trying to conceive an heir for the kingdom. Avidly.

“I am to go hunting this afternoon with the Royal Council. It is stag season, and William believes we can intercept a particularly big herd if we leave in just about two hours.” Of course. Lord William, your husband’s closest advisor and confidante, would be a part of this. Not that you minded. Thanks to William and all he did to keep your husband occupied; you had more time for yourself than you could possibly want.

“Last time you promised you would not kill the young ones,” you told him, smoothing your dress. Lilac lace and white tule, it was one of the pieces you were most fond of. You thought perhaps wearing it would make you feel better, but so far, you had no such luck. You still felt miserable.

“Did I?” He asked, checking his appearance in the mirror. Of course, your husband, ever the vain man. He was good-looking, that’s for sure. Tall, with a piercing gaze, always dressed in the finest of cloths, walking with the confidence of one hundred kings. But it didn’t do any good if he was a despicable human being.

“You did.” You walked towards him, holding your hands tightly. “Please, don’t do it. Let them live – it’s not like they can feed you, they’re just babies.”

“Your emotions will be your downfall, woman.” He said, not once taking his eyes off his reflection. “Do not expect me to dine with you – we are to return late.”

Having said this, he left the room.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. The golden jewelled crown was heavy on your head, and you felt tired. You loved your kingdom, you truly did. But sacrificing your life to marry a man you have no affection for was taking a toll on you.

Sighing, you walked through the walls of the Arakhnevian castle. A beautiful construction, really, with tall towers and plenty of windows that allowed for the most beautiful view in the country. The inside of the castle was just as beautiful. Your husband demanded only the best, so it was covered in expensive carpets and gleaming chandeliers, filled with only the best furniture and adornments. And while it was stunning and filled to the brim with every kind of things, it still felt empty.

You opened the door to your chambers and quickly asked your maids for some space. You wanted some peace and quiet, not to deal with anyone, not to be Queen of Arakhneva, to simply be you, with no responsibilities.

After a few moments of resting by your divan, you heard a knock on the door.

“I wish to be alone.” You said it loud enough for the other person to hear, but that didn’t stop them from opening it just a tiny bit and replying.

“Is everything alright, Your Majesty?”

Oh.

You smiled instantly upon hearing that voice – his voice.

The voice of the man that held your heart in his hands, the voice of the only man you truly loved, the one who made you smile and made you feel loved and cherished and adored, the one who treated you like you truly mattered.

Sir Miguel O’Hara.

He’d been assigned as your knight when you married your husband, many days ago.

His job was to protect you, make sure you were safe and sound. And while being a Queen was a hard job, being a lonely Queen was even worse. You had ladies in waiting as would be expected – but they all seemed rather fake. Just like your husband’s advisors, these women were merely here for the power and the status. None of them cared about you or your life. Nevertheless, they praised you. Your wardrobe. Your gardens. Your decorating skills. All you did was marvellous to them. This is, of course, if they got anything in return from it.

The only true friendships you’d ever found in the castle was Lady Gwen, a rather young but extremely intelligent and mature lady who’d warmed up to you and proven to be the greatest companion you could ever ask for. She was the only one who knew about your secret affair and kept that secret with her life.

Yes, she was quite younger than you. Some at court would dare to call her a child whenever you were absent. More than once had you needed to berate all of them for trying to put her down. Your castle was no place for petty gossip, especially when the focus of it was a hardworking girl who’d never done anything wrong.

Her father was a wealthy Duke, and he’d sent his only daughter into the Royal Castle, in hopes of making a noble, marriageable lady out of her. You’d hijacked his plans and were making sure young Lady Gwen was simply enjoying her life as a carefree royal. Heavens knew she’d need to.

The creaking of your voice brought you back from your thoughts.

“Your Majesty?” Sir Miguel asked, voice low. Ever the gentleman, he did not dare peek inside, in fear of trespassing your boundaries and privacy. He needn’t be afraid – he’d stolen your heart long ago. There was no such thing as privacy; at least not when it came to him.

You looked in the direction of the door, breath quickening. It had been a few days since you’d last seen Miguel. He’d been too busy. Being the kingdom’s most prestigious knight had both its perks and downsides. Being dragged away on missions was one of them.

Many often wondered why Sir Miguel was your personal knight. He was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and an even broader back, with eyes so deep you found it hard not to get lost in them, with courage and nerves of steel. Why would such a man be kept in the castle, when he could be out there protecting his kingdom?

In truth, he was.

Your life used to be very different. Your husband used to love you. Used to. Shortly after your wedding, he assigned the kingdom’s best knight to guard you. In his opinion, no expense was too big to keep you safe. So, Sir Miguel was taken out of the battlefield, and placed by your bed chamber’s door.

(Later you found out your husband’s kindness was an elaborate ruse to wed you. You were heartbroken, having fallen for a man that held no respect or desire for you.)

It was awkward at first. You did not know Miguel, and yet he was tasked with taking you everywhere, ensuring that you were alright, standing by your side 24/7. But soon you found him to be an amazing companion and your biggest confidante. You’d tell him about everything. Your childhood, your life in court, your marriage. As soon as the first signs of indifference from your husband started to show, you were next to Miguel, asking him for help and advice.

You’d cry in his arms, telling him how your husband ignored you, choosing to tend to administrational matters instead of you, and how lonely you felt.

To say Miguel was pissed was an understatement.

In his eyes, you were the most gracious woman that had ever walked the planet, the closest thing there had ever been to an angel. Your husband was a foolish man if he couldn’t realise the treasure he held.

So, he made sure to prove to you just how precious you were.

It started out with simple gestures.

One time, during a stroll in the gardens, you tripped on a loose rock. For the rest of the day, Miguel asked you to hold on to his arm, and you did so, happy to be close to him.

When you were sick, Miguel would rush to you, spending the day by your bedside, feeding you spoonful after spoonful of soup, and aiding you while you drank warm tea. He’d read to you until you were sound asleep and placed a soft palm on your forehead to check your temperature.

Soon, you found yourself drawn to him more and more.

The attraction wasn’t merely physical – he was a handsome man, yes, and plenty of Lords and Dukes had tried to pair him off with their daughters – but emotional. Miguel understood you, as you understood him. You were the only person he’d ever talked to about his childhood and life. You were the only one who knew his deepest, darkest secrets.

So, it wasn’t a surprise that one cold December right, right after your husband had abandoned you for a special Christmas hunt, you found yourself in Miguel’s arms, kissing him senseless. The fact that your husband had chosen something else over you on a very special night just reassured you of your choice. Your husband did not love you. Sir Miguel, on the other hand, did. Very much.

He touched you as if you were made of glass, pressing feather-like kisses on your cheeks and the column of your neck, whispering gentle promises of everlasting love and affection. He held you close when it snowed, pressing your warm body against his, as he ran his fingers up and down your back, marvelling at the softness of your skin. When you turned to ask him what was on his mind, his breath was stolen.

Curious moonlight was bathing you in a soft glow, making you appear even more ethereal.

Miguel hugged you tight and promised to love you forever. You returned his promise.

It was hard keeping your affair a secret. You loved him deeply and always wanted him by your side. But you’d made a promise before God, to love and cherish your husband. Many times you prayed for forgiveness, as the man that appeared in your dreams and rested in between your sheets was not your King. You had to keep everything under wraps. Miguel was a knight and stood much lower than you in the social hierarchy – a hierarchy you hated. To you, he stood at the very top, as the holder of your heart and love.

“Did anyone see you come in?” You asked in a low voice, looking behind your lover.

He shook his head but decided to check once more. One could not be too careful, and he’d rather face the wraths of hell than to have you be the centre of a scandal. Miguel loved you far too much for that. Sure, he adored you and worshipped you more than anything. All he wanted was to sing ballads in your honour, scream from the top of the highest mountains that he was yours, let everyone know his heart belonged to you. But if he had to love you in secret, so be it.

“May I?” He asked, walking in, and closing the door behind him after you gave him permission. As soon as the door was closed, he rushed to your side, wrapping you in a tight embrace. “My Queen…” He whispered against your hair, hands caressing the small of your back to comfort you.

You said nothing, preferring to simply remain in his arms. No one knew this, but that’s where you felt safer, more at ease. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent. Miguel smelled of forest and firewood, and nothing felt more at home than his embrace.

He understood of course and did not say anything. He tightened his hold around you, swiftly picking you up in his arms and making his way towards your divan. He sat down and adjusted so you could rest comfortably against his chest. He wouldn’t pressure you nor push you. You’d talk whenever you wanted to.

After a few moments of listening to his heartbeat, you looked up, tracing the lines of his face, his strong jawline and chin, and the soft plushiness of his lips.

“I missed you.” You said, craning your head up to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “The meeting today was dreadful. I hate it whenever he drags me along. I’m just an accessory to him. Nothing more.”

Miguel’s gaze darkened. He hated your husband. The way he treated you was unspeakable – if you were his wife, Miguel would cherish you more than anything. He already did, although with no such title. But you knew it. You knew how he felt for you, and that was enough.

“He’s blind. You know it.” Miguel replied, tracing gentle patterns on your back. “He is blind and a fool. If he were anything but, he wouldn’t treat you like a decoration. He doesn’t deserve you. Cielos, my love, if I could, I’d – “

“You’d nothing.” You silenced him with a kiss. “There is nothing you can do. He is my husband. And he is the King. I may not care for him, but he still holds our lives in the palm of his hand. One wrong move and something could happen to you. I will not have that.”

He furrowed his brow. By God, he looked so attractive. Especially like this, all confused. You liked to see him like this. Your Miguel looked far too sure and confident all the time. It was nice to have the upper hand occasionally.

“But you are miserable. How can I live with the knowledge that my beloved is miserable?” He brushed his lips across your forehead.

“I could never be miserable with you by my side. It is you that makes me happy. It is you I love. As long as I have you, I need nothing else.”

Miguel smiled and leaned towards you, dark locks of hair falling on his forehead. He kissed you softly and his hands slowly shifted to your hips. A silent request.

“He won’t be here until late. The council is going on a hunt. He told me so.” You said breathlessly, looking up into that fiery gaze of his. You dropped your hands into his chest and felt your cheeks getting warmer as his hands slowly travelled down your back and into your hips.

“Is that so?” He toyed with the ribbons in your dress, smiling when they came undone. “You look breathtaking. You know I love this dress, don’t you?” You nodded, too entranced by him to form a coherent sentence, “Lilacs would cry in shame of being compared to you, the prettiest flower of them all.”

“Well, since that fool of a man won’t be here for a while…” Miguel got up, holding you tightly against his chest. His chestplate was cold, but you knew his body to be scalding hot once it pressed against yours. He carefully placed you down on your bed, stepping backwards so he could remove his armour and place his sword on the divan. “How about we make the most of that time? I’d like to show you just how much I love and cherish you.”

You smiled and nodded.

“I’d like that very much.”

Once his armour was on the ground, he made his way next to you, bringing your lips together in a dizzying kiss. You smiled against his lips and ran a hand through his hair. No matter what, your knight in shining armour would always make you feel better.

Describing this last couple of weeks as you being “sick” hardly does it any justice.

In fact, you’d been through hell lately.

You would feel sick at the most abnormal of times. More than once did you have to excuse yourself from those dreadful meetings to rush to the nearest chamber pot to empty the contents of your stomach. Most of the food that was served to you in the morning and at night had you covering your nose and begging for some fresh air.

Just the mere action of strolling along the gardens had you exhausted, and you had to sit down often, fanning yourself. Your ladies in waiting were worried (or at least did a very good job of pretending so), asking you every five seconds if you were alright, and keeping you hydrated with refreshments such as fresh lemonade or warm tea.

Never in a million years would you suspect what was happening.

In your head, it wouldn’t be possible to get pregnant. You’d laid with your husband perhaps a dozen times when your marriage begun – you were in love and committed, and it felt natural. The kingdom needed an heir. But as time went on and he started neglecting you, you neglected your heir-bearing duties.

That’s why such an idea was so farfetched.

“Pregnancy” connoted the emergence of an heir, and expectation that bore no relevance to your present circumstances.

(That’s not to say you did not know how a pregnancy worked. You did. It was just that, in the labyrinth of royal protocol and expectations, such a turn had long been entwined with the prospect of securing an heir. It completely slipped your mind that the handsome knight who woke up next to you most mornings could be the cause of such a thing.)

Your husband had noticed it too. But he was far too detached to investigate it, and simply avoided you once you turned green with the smell of lunch.

“Make sure not to get any of the carpets dirty. They were awfully expensive.” He’d speak. Yes, you knew. You acquired them.

For a while, you decided to ignore it. You went about your normal day, completing each of your tasks – no matter how unimportant they seemed. Overseeing the gardens, checking in with the castle’s staff and assuring all was in order, organising and overviewing supplies and food for the next few months. You sat in the library and busied yourself with some books, and visited the kitchens in order to supervise the lunch that was being served to every servant and knight.

Miguel had abandoned you for the day – he was supervising the training of the younger knights, teaching them the way of the profession. You didn’t want him to be inside of the castle all the time, it would do him good to go outside and train the younger squires.

When you made your way towards the training grounds to ensure all was well with the trainees, you were rewarded with the glorious sight of your beloved, standing in the middle of a makeshift arena, sword in hand. He’d foregone a shirt, and your heart leaped at the way he fought knight after knight, proving once more to be the most talented of them all.

When the rest of the knights spotted their Queen, they stood straighter, taller, and bowed before you. Miguel looked at you and a smile graced his lips. His beautiful Queen had come to see him.

Although you’d tried not to make a scene or draw any suspicion towards you, you couldn’t help but walk down the stairs and approach the training men.

“Your Majesty.” They curtsied once more before you, placing a hand on top of their hearts.

“To what do we owe such honour?” Miguel asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

He looked so handsome, droplets of water clinging to his hair, beads of sweat falling down his tan skin, the soft rise and fall of his chest, signalling he was out of breath.

“Sir O’Hara, may I have a word with you? The king has sent a message to you.”

It was a lousy lie, but you needed to get your hands on him.

He signalled to someone to keep the training going, grabbed a nearby rag (possibly a makeshift towel), and gestured towards the path ahead.

“After you, Your Majesty.”

You smiled and led him to a secluded area of the training grounds, a small backroom, really, where the two of you could be alone. You looked around once, twice, and a third time before reassuring yourself that you two were alone, and then turned to kiss him.

Miguel understood immediately. He held you softly as not to crumple your dress and get you all sweaty – you had a secret to keep – but kissed you with the desperation of a man who hadn’t seen his beloved in a whole eternity.

His lips moved along yours tenderly, sending shivers down your spine, and his hand was quick to cup your cheek. He tried pushing away for some air, but you followed him and placed one last kiss on his lips.

“Is everything alright?” He asked you, thumb caressing your cheek.

“Not really. Today’s been terribly boring, and I think I must be coming down with something.” You confessed with a sigh. Miguel placed his lips to your forehead and hummed.

“You don’t seem to have a fever. But if you’re ill, perhaps you shouldn’t be here. It’s rather chilly outside, and you brought no shawl to protect you from the cold.” His tone was firm but caring – truthfully, all he wanted, was to keep you safe. “You should go back inside.”

“Do you wish to see mee off that quickly, Sir O’Hara?” You teased, putting on a faux betrayed look on your face. “I thought I was the woman of your heart.”

“And you are,” he punctuated his statement with a kiss to your lips, tongue pushing past yours to explore your mouth, the way he knew made your breath quicken and cheeks warm. “But I would hate for my beloved to get ill. Especially when I could’ve avoided it. Besides, I’m sure he wouldn’t like it if you were sick. He’d find a way to blame it all on you and accuse you of not being a worthy wife.” These last words were spit with a venom solely reserved for your husband.

But you knew he was right. It would do you no good to get sick.

You nodded and kissed his jaw tenderly.

“You should get back to your training.”

Like he always did, Miguel dropped down on one knee, bringing your hands to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly, looking up at you with a look of pure adoration.

“My Queen,” he mumbled, before walking away.

You had to remain hidden for a few moments, so you could catch your breath and steady your heart before turning around and returning to the castle.

You were making your third round around the castle, trying to abstain from the terrible fatigue and mood swings that had haunted you throughout the day, when a shy maid approached you in the hall, curtsying before you.

“Your Majesty,” she said, her eyes fixated on her feet, “His Majesty the King has asked to see you… He is in the council room and says it is important.”

It had to be. Rarely did your husband talk to the servants. He usually asked his council to carry on his tasks for him, arguing that speaking to a servant would lower his status as a man. What a foolish thing to think, especially when his workers nearly broke their backs to keep him happy and satisfied, cooking his meals, keeping him warm and safe.

What an ungrateful man.

You thanked the maid and walked towards the council room, where your husband was sitting at the head of a table, studying maps of his lands.

“Good, you were quick.” He said, not even daring to look up from the pieces of paper.

“You called for me.”

“Yes, I did.” Your husband finally spared you a glance. He looked at your figure, his eyes trailing the top of your head and observing your whole body. You could not make out what he was thinking, and to be frank, you didn’t want to. So, you stood there, awaiting further instructions. “I have just been informed the Thidorian King will be travelling to Arakhneva late this month. He will be bringing his wife and staying for a couple of weeks. This could be the chance to form a powerful alliance with a strong kingdom.”

You nodded as you took his information in. The Thidorian king was strong and prosperous, and while it wasn’t as prestigious nor as rich as Arakhneva, it was still noble. Forming an alliance with them was sure to be advantageous for both kingdoms.

“I am entrusting you with all preparations for their arrival. You must see that they are comfortable at all times. A feast shall be organized in their honour – I want no expense spared. Do you understand me, woman?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, my king. I shall see that all goes smoothly. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” You asked, eager to get away from that abominable room.

Your husband remained silent for a few seconds. Then, he placed both of his hands on top of the table and looked at you with a different kind of look. An earnest look, one you hadn’t seen in him in a long, long time.

“The Thidorian Queen is expecting a child.” His voice was almost emotionless, but you could make out the single hint of vulnerability in it. He was your husband, after all. You knew him. “It would be a shame if a smaller kingdom produced an heir to the throne first. It is your duty to bear an heir to Arakhneva, do not forget. I will visit you tonight. That is all.”

He dismissed you with a wave of a hand, and you all but fled the room.

The hearty lunch you’d eaten earlier threatened to come out – you almost ran to your chambers, locking yourself inside.

Once you were sure you were alone, you puked inside a chamber pot, tears spilling from your eyes.

It was bad enough to be married to a man that felt nothing for you, but having to actually lay with him and betray the love of your life… You emptied your stomach once again, and sat on the floor, layers of silk spreading on the floor as you sat down and hugged your knees close to your chest.

There was no way you could refuse him.

Your husband was prideful – a smaller kingdom having an heir before him would destroy his ego. That night when he came to your room, you would have to lay bare before him, and let him touch you.

Despicable.

You sighed.

How would you tell Miguel? He knew you had to keep your marriage up, for appearances, for politics, for, well, everything. He knew you did not love your husband. But he hated it whenever he came to you at night. No one hated it more than you did, but Miguel was a close second.

You closed your eyes and tried to get a few moments of rest.

What a tiresome day it’d been.

How exhausted you’d been lately. It’s not like you did much. Sure, you had a horse and went out frequently into the woods to get some fresh air. You enjoyed gardening, and more than once had tried to learn how to fight with a sword (an activity that ended up with you and Miguel with your limbs entwined, in the horse stable.)

Shaking your head, you got up. You called for a maid and asked her to prepare a bath, since you wanted to change into some cleaner clothes. Perhaps it would help you relax.

Within a few minutes, a tub filled with lukewarm water was placed in your chambers, and you ordered everyone to leave. You needed some time to think.

It was interesting to think how your life had turned out.

As a child, you often dreamed of true love.

Now, you had that same true love you’d always desired, but not for the one you exchanged vows with. In fact, you loathed that same man, repulsed his words, and despised his touch. Being his Queen was a sacrifice you did solely for your kingdom. And what a big sacrifice it was.

You had to talk to Miguel before dinnertime. You needed to explain to him what was to happen and hear from his lips that he loved you and all would be well.

But once you leaned over to fetch your towel, a strange realisation hit you.

Your water was crystal clear.

The water you’d used to clean yourself was crystal clear.

What day was it?

You pressed your towel against your legs, furrowing your eyebrows.

You were supposed to bleed. Why weren’t you bleeding?

In fact, you were supposed to have bled a while ago.

How long had it been since your last monthly course?

You started to panic.

It could be some sort of mistake. You’d heard from other women that issues such as stress or even diet could affect a woman’s courses.

You quickly got out of the tub, wrapping yourself in your towel, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

You hadn’t bled.

In your head, you ran every possible option.

It surely wasn’t normal; you were taught a woman should bleed once a month once she became a lady.

The only reason it didn’t happen was…

Oh.

The whole world seemed to be spinning.

How?

But you hadn’t laid with your husband. It was impossible, there was no way.

Miguel.

You puked whatever was rest of your lunch and breathing became hard.

You did the math in your head, recalling all the times you’d been with Miguel.

And no matter how much you did not want to believe it, it made sense.

All of it made sense. The odd mood swings, the fatigue, the nausea; you’d looked in the mirror and noticed your breasts had gotten more tender. It all added up.

And you had no idea how to deal with it.

You got dressed haphazardly, foregoing a corset and half of the layers necessary to look presentable, and called for one of your ladies – but not any lady.

“You asked to see me, Your Majesty?” Lady Gwen asked, opening your door ever so slightly. Once she took you in, her expression changed to one of confusion. “My Queen – is everything alright?” She asked.

“Gwendolyn, I need you to get Sir O’Hara. Right now.” Your tone was urgent, and she was quick to understand. She curtsied and left the room while you paced around, heart beating loudly in your chest.

What were you to do?

What would Miguel think?

What were you to do? You hadn’t shared a bed with your husband in a very long time. It would be impossible to convince him the… to convince him it was his.

Unless…

It felt like you had been waiting for an eternity. You heard the familiar knock that was characteristic of Miguel, and turned your back on him, too afraid to face him yet.

He locked the door behind him and approached you carefully.

“My love,” he started, shaking his head. To have a Lady in waiting (a young one, at that) pulling him from training was odd enough as it was, and so he couldn’t help but think something was amiss when you turned away from him. “Is everything alright?”

You tried to steady your breath. How were you going to say this out loud? What if Miguel got angry? What would you do about it? How were you going to fix this?

“Miguel, I…” Your attempt at steadying your breath failed, and instead you started to hyperventilate, tears falling down your face. The frightened expression on your face worried Miguel, and all it took was two strides across your room for him to pull you to his chest.

“It’s alright, mi amor. Shhh. Breathe with me. Here,” he took your hand in his and placed it on top of his heart. The steadiness of his heartbeat relaxed you, and you found yourself breathing slower as he coaxed you. “In… And out… There… You’re doing wonderfully… That’s right, just breathe…”

You breathed in and out for a few more seconds before Miguel asked if you were better. You nodded and looked up at him, trying to gather some courage for what you were about to say.

“Miguel…” You felt the tears prickle the corner of your eyes again but fought against them. You had to be strong. “Miguel…”

He listened attentively, trying not to show how worried he was. What could possibly be so wrong that you’d look so shaken up?

“Miguel, I… I haven’t bled this month…”

He looked confused. How could that be a problem? Did it mean you were ill? Is that why you were so tired earlier? Did it affect you like that?

Seeing the confusion written across his face, you chuckled nervously.

“Miguel, it means… I haven’t bled – and I’ve been so tired and moody, and God, I cannot stand the smell of anything that I’m supposed to eat… I might…” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, far too scared to say it out loud. If you said it, it’d become real.

That’s when it hit him.

Hard.

He froze, staring at you with raised eyebrows. He took you all in, as if it was a foreign thing, if you’d suddenly grown an extra limb.

“Miguel? Please say something?” You said, your voice breaking mid-sentence. “I need you by my side…”

Miguel shook his head slightly, and you could see his eyes had turned teary.

Slowly, he regained his speech.

“You… You’re with child?”

There. He said it. Child.

You were with child.

You were expecting his child.

You nodded, worried about his reaction. What did that mean? Was he happy? Was he worried? Was he angry with you?

“My love, that’s…” Miguel chuckled – a hearty and true chuckled that reverberated across the room. He caught you in his arms and spun you around, placing kisses all over your face. “I love you. I adore you. I worship you, my Queen, my love. The love of my life. You’re giving me a child. You’re bearing my child.” He rambled on like a maniac, holding your hands tightly and kissing them repeatedly.

For a while, you forgot about your predicament.

You saw yourself cradling a small baby in your arms, Miguel wrapping his arms around the both of you. You watched as he took your child to the gardens, watching as he chased butterflies. You saw Miguel sing your child to sleep and kiss your forehead while you nursed him. Or her. You saw yourselves as a happy family, far from the responsibilities of a royal life.

It all seemed so close. So real.

Your illusion was shattered once Miguel let go of your hands.

“You’re carrying my child.” His voice was sombre, dark. It carried none of the happiness of just a few moments ago. “Mierda.” He ran his hands through his fingers, eyes widening in realisation.

Miguel let go of you and paced around the room, trying to calm himself down. He did a much better job than you, taking in deep breaths and walking in circles. He looked at you, took you in once again. That’s right. You said you’d been feeling sick. And tired. It all made perfect sense. You were pregnant with his child – you were pregnant with a child from a man who was not your husband.

“Mi reina, I… I’m so sorry.” He said, walking towards you.

You lifted your hand, stopping him.

“You are not going to apologize.”

“But I – “

“I love you, Miguel.” You said, taking his hand in yours again. “I love you.”

Miguel nodded and hugged you once again, kissing the top of your head slightly.

“What are we going to do?” He asked, rubbing your back comfortingly. “Does anyone know?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No one. I… I figured out today. I have been getting ready in the morning by myself. I wish to be alone, so I do not ask the ladies for help. No one knows.”

He nodded once again and pulled away from him, rubbing his jaw in thought. You decided to break the news now; it was as good a time as any.

“He wants to come to me tonight.” You said, sounding stronger than you felt.

Miguel looked at you, a mix of anger and surprise in his face.

“What!?”

“He told me the Thidorian throne is expecting an heir. Of course, his pride is stronger, and God forbid he is falling behind. He told me he’s coming to my chambers tonight.”

You saw Miguel tense at your words, his jaw ticking. You knew he disliked your husband. So did you. But you also saw the glimmer in his eyes – just like you, Miguel was very intelligent. His mind was running the same possibility yours was.

You saw him nodding emphatically, staring at the floor.

“He will come to you.” He repeated and kept nodding. “Yes. He will come to you. It can work… But…” Miguel turned to you, frowning. “You… You will have to share a bed with him.”

This was your biggest worry. What if Miguel was just like your husband, too prideful to give up what was his?

“It’s the only way, Miguel.” You hugged your torso and tried to carry on speaking without wavering. “I… I must engage in… marital relations.” You nearly puked at the words. “It’s the only way. I will lie with him. I must.”

“You must hide the pregnancy.” Miguel continued, looking at you. He appeared to be focused, deep in thought. “Dismiss your maids for as long as you can and call the physician in a few weeks. Are you feeling too ill? Can you pretend for a few more weeks?” This line was spoken differently. Of course, he would always sound sweet and attentive when it came to you and your well-being. That’s just who Miguel was.

“I think so. There was a chill outside today, perhaps I can pretend to have caught a common cold. It would allow me a few days of bed rest.”

Miguel sighed.

“Do you think… Do you think he will believe it?”

You scoffed.

“The King is far too prideful not to. Once he finds out, he will be too happy to even think about anything else. His priorities will lie with bragging about his heir to every kingdom. He thinks too highly of himself to consider me sharing the bed with someone else.”

“Only the bed?” Miguel quirked an eyebrow, finding it in himself to tease you slightly.

“And my heart.” You ran a hand through his jaw, committing it to memory. “I am sorry.”

He frowned.

“Why?”

“Your child…” You dropped your hand, but he was quick to catch it in between his. You’d said it. You’d said the word – child. “He’ll think it’s his… Your own child…” The tears that threatened to spill did so, and he wiped them away one by one as your words sunk in.

“He will know. We well let him know.” He murmured, kissing your cheeks delicately. “Or she. Nothing will ever take our family away from us. Even if we have to hide it for a while.”

You sniffled, covering his hands with yours.

“And when he’s born? What if he bears no resemblance to him?”

Miguel chewed the inside of his cheek. That’d be a problem. Miguel looked nothing like the King. His hair was far too curly, his skin tanner, his gaze harder, his shoulders broader and his figure bigger. It would be a hard thing to convince the King the child was his. It would be even harder to convince him of the same thing regarding a teenager or a young adult.

He shook his head, undeterred.

“We’ll just have to pray it looks like you then,” he caressed your face, “And we will look in the portrait room. Perhaps we can assume his resemblance comes from his grandfather, or great-grandfather. It would put his mind at rest, to know his family tree is strong. I will think of something. I promise. Alright?”

You mumbled a soft “yes” and sought out his lips with your own. Right now, you just wanted to hold him close. You were frightened and nervous, and it seemed as if the world was spinning. You needed your rock, the love of your life, by your side.

“Mi amor, this is my promise to you. I will always take care of you. Always.” His hand dropped to your stomach, to where your child probably lay. “I’ll always take care of our family.”

In that little moment, nothing else mattered.

The fact your whole marriage could crumble this night meant nothing to you.

You were certain you could do this.

You would share a bed with your husband and make him believe the child was his. You would give him the heir he so desperately wanted.

But your heart would always belong to Miguel. With him, you could love without fears or barriers. He would be always present in his child’s life. You knew that, even having to hide his identity, Miguel would be the greatest father the world had ever seen. He was already doing such a wonderful job.

You looked up and kissed the love of your life, attempting to pour all your heart and emotions into a simple kiss.

“I love you,” you said.

Miguel smiled against your lips.

“I love you too, my Queen.”

You could do this.

As long as you had your knight in shining armour, you could get through anything in the world.

A/N: That's it! I really hope you guys liked it! I missed writing so much, and this was such a fun request! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go study for a test I have no information about, hahaha!

Have a great day everyone!!! <3

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara #atsv x reader #atsv x you #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel astv

348 notes · View notes

devildomimagines · 3 years

Note

Could u do another "I'm not (blank) enough" requests but instead of MC saying something negative it'd be the brothers saying they aren't enough at something?

This was an interesting request, thanks Anon! I'm sorry it took me a while to get through it but I really had to dig deep to figure out what these arrogant, all powerful demons could feel insecure about.

Here is my other piece Anon is referencing: "I'm Not _______ Enough."

I changed it up a bit from the original but I hope you like it! Also I got carried away and this got pretty long so the other brothers are under the cut lol.

"Am I _______ Enough?"

Belphegor

“Am I reliable enough?”

You had woken up from your nap to his words, and asked “What?” While wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Can you depend on me?” He reworded the question but didn’t make eye contact.

“Belphie?” You guided his face to look at yours.

“Actually never mind,” he backed out of the conversation and the bed.

“Wait,” You sat up and pushed out of the bed too, already missing the warmth.

Once in front of him, you stated, “You’re reliable!”

His blush was slight but you caught it before he amended, “I know that I’m not always hanging off you like Mammon or Asmo-“

“That’s ok!” You interrupted, “Sorry,” you quickly apologized when he gave you a look.

“But I know that with your sin, it gets physically uncomfortable to be awake for long periods like how Beel gets after not getting enough food. I know if I ever needed you,” you took his hand, “you’d be there.”

He took a moment to let the scene sink in before squeezing your hand, giggling, and roughing up your hair, “That’s right, bed head,” He teased.

“Yours isn’t any better!” You moved to do the same to him but he dodged.

The two of you continued to play fight but didn’t let go of the other's hand. Belphie seemed lightened by your confirmation and you enjoyed the rare bout of playful activity with the youngest.

Beelzebub

“Am I warm enough?”

“Heck yeah! You’re like a space heater!”

He laughed, “Thanks, MC.” But his smile faded too quickly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I misunderstand?” You went from sitting across from him to sitting next to him at the table, “Do you not want to be a space heater?”

That got him smiling again, “No, that’s not it, I guess I meant warm like friendly?”

“Well then it’s a resounding yes, you’re super friendly Beel!” You gave his back a rub and a pat for punctuation.

“Oh… ok,” he went back to his snack which you assumed he would but his response wasn’t sitting right with you.

“Do you not believe me?” You looked up at him with your best puppy dog pout.

Congrats, your cuteness made the Avatar of Gluttony choke! He coughed and pounded on his chest with a closed fist.

You offered your apology and he waved it off as he took some gulps of his drink.

“No I do believe you MC.” He started covering your hand on the table with his and before your hand was completely enveloped he stopped.

“What is it then?” You prodded.

“Just a teammate commented on how I made chills run down his spine with just my stare.”

“Ah, I think Asmo would know that as a resting b*tch face,” you scratched your chin sagely

He frowned, “I can’t do anything about that, that's just how my face is.”

“Exactly! So don’t stress it, he’s still your teammate and friend, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Beel mulled it over and you could practically see the weight of it rise off his shoulders as he sat up straighter and accepted it.

“There he is,” you thought as he exuded an easy confidence but your thoughts were disrupted when he pulled you into an embrace. He whispered near your ear, “Thanks.”

“Who could think this wasn’t warm?” You thought as you snuggled into his hold.

Asmodeus

“Am I attentive enough?”

“What brought that up?” You questioned looking up from your spot on his bed. It wasn’t like Asmo to show his insecurities.

“Just some gossip going around,” He tried to minimize the claims and continued fussing with his hair.

“Oh, well, you know how gossip gets, you just have to ignore it and it’ll go away,” you repeated the same advice he had given you when you first arrived in the Devildom and there were vicious rumors and tabloid articles written about the exchange program participants.

“But am I?!”

The hurt look on his face paired with the desperation in his question made it plainly obvious this meant more to him than he wanted to let on.

“Of course-”

Asmo cut you off, “MC, you have to be deadly honest right now.”

“You’re attentive Asmo,” You confirmed without a shadow of a doubt.

He chewed his lip and cheek debating the statement.

You got up from the bed and came to stand in front of Asmo. You cupped the cheek he was chewing on and he stopped.

With a small nudge you made him swivel to look back in the mirror, “What were the rumors saying?” Your own curiosity running wild, what could bring Asmo to this?

Surprisingly Asmo looked away from the reflection of you two to answer in a small voice, “That if I didn’t pay attention to you, they’d sweep in and take you for themselves.”

That stunned you for a second, you didn’t think it would involve you. “Well first of all, I don’t even know them, how are they going to even get close to me at this point?”

Asmo considered this, you were always with him or one of his brothers.

“Second, you’re always paying attention to me, you probably know my facial expressions better than I do,” you laughed and he couldn’t help a small snort of his own.

“Third, even on days when you’re stressed, or excited about a new make-up launch and your energy is elsewhere, you always,” you squeezed his arm for emphasis, “ALWAYS check in on me.”

Asmo bit his lip once more but this time holding back a smile. He clearly couldn’t hold it back when he locked you in a hug and squealed your name.

Satan

“Am I patient enough?”

You knew this was something that he consciously worked on so you quickly confirmed, “Yes,” then turned the page of your book.

He was a little shocked at your quick resolution and not totally satisfied. He closed his book and asked, “There was never a time when you think I couldn’t have been more patient?”

“Well sure, but I think that about myself too.”

That was also surprising to Satan, “How? You’re even more patient than me.”

“I’m only human,” You shrugged, as you closed your own book, recognizing this was going to be more of a discussion.

“And I’m only demon?” Satan returned sarcastically. He did not appreciate the turn of phrase.

“Sorry, I meant, I’m not perfect, no one is. You can’t hold yourself to an impossible standard because you’ll only be destined to be disappointed when you don’t live up to it.” You paused for the idea to settle with him.

He contemplated the sentiment.

“The way I see it,” you continued, “As long as you’re trying to do better then that’s what matters.”

Satan weighed that thought as well.

“And there is an even bigger secret with patience that not a lot of people know,” you baited.

Satan asked “And what’s that?” Hook, line, and sinker.

“I don’t know if you’re ready,” you taunted and reopened your book. If there was one thing you knew you could entice Satan with, it was some kind of hidden knowledge.

He moved across the room and closed your book in your hand for you.

You looked up at him looming over you with a sweet smile.

He smiled back at you, knowing you were playing with him. “And what’s that?” He repeated but you knew it was more of a command this time.

“Fine, I’ll share the secret with you so listen well.”

He started to nod before you caught his face in your hands. His eyebrows shot up to wordlessly question your action but didn’t break the silence, his proof he was listening.

“People don’t always realize that the most important part of patience is…” you paused and savored the interest in Satan’s eyes, “that you have to afford yourself the same patience you give to others.”

His brows furrowed trying to unravel the words in his mind.

While he did so, you pulled his head down slightly so you could give him a quick kiss on the forehead. Then pat his cheek and released him.

He took a step back, almost in a daze, you certainly gave him something to think about.

Leviathan

“Am I supportive enough?”

You looked up from the manga you were reading and Levi was staring down at the manga in his hand. His hands were holding the sides tightly as he waited for your response.

“How so?” You prompted.

“L-like this,” Levi pushed the manga towards you. You scanned the panels, the scene being depicted looked like it was one where the love interest was cheering on the main character while they were participating in a sports festival.

“Well you’re not like this,” you had to be honest and you could see he was already starting to sulk, “but you’re supportive in your own way.”

He tsked and took the manga back.

“Levi, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” you apologized.

“It’s fine,” Levi turned the page, “I know I’m a gross otaku shut in.”

“No, stop.” You closed the manga, you dug this hole so it was time to climb out.

He listened and looked over at you, annoyed.

“You’re supportive Levi. There are different ways to be supportive!”

He rolled his eyes, not believing you.

Alright this guy wants to play hardball, you could play with the best of them. “You always make sure that I’ve eaten and slept, even if you haven’t. For as long as we’ve had a pact, you’ve always come to my defense even though I know you hate confrontation. When I find a new show, game or book that I’m interested in, you always take the time to learn about it yourself so I can talk to someone about it.”

By the end, Levi’s face was red, his ears were red, you could swear his hands were even shaking a little bit.

“So sure, you’re not yelling your support from the roof of the House of Lamentation like that character,” you took one of his hands and his eyes darted between your face and your interlaced hands, “but I appreciate your quiet kind of support.”

Leviathan.exe has stopped working. It took a solid 5 minutes to regain his voice.

“M-M-MC!” he whined, “That’s so embarrassing!” He slumped down to hide his face but didn’t dare remove his hand from yours.

“Was it super effective?” You laughed at your joke.

He groaned from his drooped state but he squeezed your hand and you knew that it was.

Mammon

“Am I humble enough?”

At first, you have to bite your tongue to keep from outright laughing.

Surely the demon who regards himself as “The Great Mammon” would see the irony in asking this.

But he was quiet and reflective, a stark contrast to his usual self.

You sat down next to him on the sofa in the living room, with a pat on his back you opted to offer what you thought he wanted to hear, “Sure you are buddy.”

“Are ya messing with me?” of all times for Mammon to be observant.

You were as bad a liar as he was so when you looked away and scratched your cheek instead of answering Mammon knew you were lying.

He sighed and his shoulders dropped as he caught his head in his hands.

“Well you don’t have to be humble!” You defended, feeling bad for your white lie earlier.

He peeked up at you and you took the opportunity to stand up in front of him, “You’re like the third strongest demon in all of Devildom! You should be proud of that!”

He rolled his eyes but you could see a shadow of a smile play on his lips.

“Not only are you strong but you’re very caring, not only to your brothers but to me too,” you suggested and on queue Mammon flushed.

“I’m not,” he tried to deny.

“Oh that’s not true. Remember when Belphie ruined that painting and you took the fall for it?”

His eyes opened wide in shock, “How did you-”

“Or that time when I was sick and you took such good care of me?” You added in a sing-song tone.

“Shuddup!” Mammon was now standing and placed a hand over your mouth as he looked around for his brothers. He looked back at you, “I got a reputation to uphold, y’know.”

After a muffled laugh, you pulled his hand away, “What I’m saying is you don’t have to be modest.”

“Yeah I guess when you put it that way,” He rubbed the back of his head considering.

“So what’s on the agenda for the day for The Great Mammon?”

He squinted his eyes at your teasing tone but smirked and grabbed your hand to drag you along. You went willingly with a snicker.

Lucifer

“Am I compassionate enough?”

He didn’t look up from the paperwork he was reviewing when he posed the question to you.

At first you tilted your head and wondered if he was even addressing you.

When he did finally look up, you knew he was waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, I think so?” You didn’t mean to phrase it as a question but were more concerned with how this even came up.

“You think so?” Lucifer repeated incredulously.

“Yes,” you reinforced, “where’s this coming from?” You were taking a risk in questioning Lucifer, there was probably a 50/50 chance he would actually answer.

It was rare that he would even voice a question about his character.

He frowned and went back to his paperwork. You figured that was the end of the conversation, this being the 50% of the time that he would not answer. You went back to perusing his record collection to find something to play.

“Simeon mentioned how ruthless I’ve become.”

You looked back over at Lucifer. He looked more tired than he did just a moment ago. Simeon’s comment must have been wearing on him.

You picked a record you knew he liked and put it on before walking over to his desk.

He sighed, put down his pen and rubbed his eyes.

You leaned against the desk with your arms crossed and he faced you, the weariness even more apparent up close.

“Can I be honest with you?” you asked.

He grimaced, already thinking the worst but nodded.

“I think your ruthlessness comes from a compassionate place.”

From his one raised eyebrow, you could tell that wasn’t what he was expecting and he was waiting for your explanation.

“For example,” you began, “you care about your brothers, so when you punish them, it’s for their own good or to save them from a worse fate. You might not admit this one, but you’ve become sympathetic to Diavolo’s moods and disposition and so acting in accordance with how it will reflect on him and enforcing those standards has become second nature, hasn’t it?” He looked away.

You knew he wouldn’t answer that so you looked away yourself and continued, “You may have at first picked me as a candidate for the exchange program because of my connection to Lilith and housed me at the request of Diavolo,” you laughed at what you were about to say for the first time out loud, “but since getting to know me, I like to think that you’ve had a change of heart and genuinely care about my well-being despite those factors.”

There was a moment of silence and you felt your face heat up, nervous that maybe you overestimated your importance.

Before you could look back at him, he had stood up and enclosed you in a hug. You smiled, uncrossed your arms and hugged him back.

He was humming along with the song so you made one more bold choice and started swaying in time with the rhythm. He chuckled, shifted to hold one of your hands, and properly led you in a dance around the room.

You hoped his light footsteps were a reflection of how light his heart was feeling.

All signs of the weariness from moments ago were completely gone.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my writing #anon squad

426 notes · View notes

alvhiedeir · 3 years

Text

Title: Is that all you got?

Pairing: Indra x gn!reader

Tw: drinking, mention of sex within influence (both of them are so nonconsensual?), Language, nsfw-ish

Note: I literally typed this without drafts before sleeping so not proofread

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

When did things go wrong? There where many, many bad choices made last night. Which exactly, was the question.

Maybe when you agreed to go drinking with the other gods, something that you rarely do? But it has been a stressful few many days for you and drinking one or two might help with it.

Or maybe that's when things went downhill. Rather than one or two, you drunk maybe half the club's worth of alcohol. That sounded exaggerated but that's what the hungover felt like. After your first one, your friends' encouragement and teasing lead you to down one more.

And another.

'Till you can't tell what's louder, the roar of the crowd egging you on or your own laughter echoing around as you danced a little to provocatively.

Maybe that's what lead a certain Indian god to approach your drunken self.

Eyes droopy but mischievous, lips tugging into a smirk as you pulled him close to your body. Hips swaying just the right way to get him intoxicated but pulling away just as fast with a cheeky laugh.

And he doesn't seemed to mind your little game.

Oh no.

He loved it.

The ever so diligent and modest you, playfully messing with him. With lips painted with red and seduction, who in their right mind won't take the bait.

And so he played with you.

Hands on your hips and back, calloused hands tracing the skin revealed by your clothes. Just imaging how pretty it would look all bruised and covered by his marks. When you pull away laughing, he would follow, his own chuckles leaving his lips in a low tone.

Maybe this wasn't the sole reason for your predicament. But you're sure as hell this was a vital point.

Especially after your little game, you found yourself pressed against an empty hallway. The sound of the party nothing but a gentle him in the background as he stared at you, eyes ever so impatient.

He pressed his head closer to your, breath smelling thick of alcohol and cigarettes. His tongue darts out to lick his drying lips, all the while his eyes stared at yours.

Then he closed the gap.

Ah, maybe this was your worst decision of the night.

You were drunk. He was drunk. But rather than doing what any rational person - god if you will - would do, you didn't push him away and said this wasn't right. That you shouldn't.

Oh no.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper as it already is. Tongue seeking out his own to dance with. Greedy and hungry, you kissed back with such vigor as he did.

He held your head with one hand and the other claimed a spot on your back, pulling your body closer. Molding your body to fit his, wanting to feel every inch that you had to offer.

And you just laid yourself on a silver platter.

With a tug of his hair, you pulled back from the kiss. Your eyes took focus on his face, and shit. Was it just the lighting or he always this pretty?

His hair was a mess as per usual but both his eyes were clear for you to admire. It held a perfect amount of hunger, lust and admiration just enough to make your excitement to grow. But what got your legs shaking was his lips. Bruised and swollen from your bitting and beautifully decorated by your red lipstick. With each gasping breath he took, you can't help but to think how nice of a color it is to him.

And how he would look covered in it.

You made many bad turns this evening but this was the icing on the cake.

Swipping your tongue across your lips, you leaned forward to his ear. Teasingly taking the lobe between your teeth before whispering lowly,

"Is that all you got, Indra?"

And believe me, you have no idea what he can do.

So as you try to scurry to find you clothes scattered across the room (whose room you did not bother asking nor thinking as it will just intensify your own embarrassment), you can't help but curse at yourself.

"Fuck where are my underwear?!"

The ruffling of the bed sheets made you freeze on the spot. Head turning ever so slowly towards the sleeping figure on the bed, you almost let out a sigh of relief as he settled back into sleep after turning.

"Damn, looks like I'm going commando today."

You tried to look as presentable as possible before turning to leave but the memories of last night made you stop.

Was it just because of the lighting?

Curiosity will truly kill the cat.

As silent as your panicked self can be, you tiptoed to the bed and and looked at the god laying on his back, one arm on his head the other hidden under the blanket.

With all the courage that you (shouldn't) have, you peeled the cover away just above his waist and you had to say. Being drunk didn't deter your idea a pretty.

He did look pretty with those red marks.

With your curiosity satisfied, with a pounding heart you did your walk of shame with the only difference is that you're running.

And you thought that was the end?

Karma's a bitch and life loves drama.

And it's just so happen that you're their new favorite show.

A week passed after your little escapade, and let's us say you had to walk the long way over just to avoid a certain somebody. Even going as far as hiding in a closet for a solid 10 minutes.

And the one moment you had your guard down, he just happen to be there.

Against you.

Pinning you once again.

In broad daylight.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck"

"Look who it is."

His voice was both amused and taunting. His larger frame towering over you as he lean closer, the memories of that night resurfacing, along with the red ess of your cheeks.

He laughs when he notices the color on your face. His one visible eye filled with humour as he watch you try to push yourself deeper against the wall, as if it can swallow you.

"Why are you embarrassed now when you said and did a lot more than-"

"Indra!"

He barked put a laugh at your loud response, your cheeks tainting into am even darker shade at your own volume.

"I'm just here to ask two things, don't worry." Your eyes were weary but none the less nodded for him to continue.

And you probably shouldn't of didn't want to turn into a tomato.

"Is this your's?"

In his hands, he held up a black underwear, the one you left in a hurry to leave, unceremoniously twirling it in his finger that anyone walking by can see.

Your hands shoot out to grab the offending garment in his hands but he held it further from your reach. He smirked as you ended up leaning against his chest, face once again a few centimeters away from his own. And when you tried to pulled back he already had an arm wrapped around your waist, effectively cutting away your chance of escaping.

Sly bastard.

"Damnit Indra! Give that back!"

He smirked, a low laugh escaping his lips.

Sly, sexy bastard.

"I'll give it back, I just have another question."

You tried to reach for your garments once again but he led it higher and started twirling it again. One wrong move and it can fly away into the floor and someone might just-

"Fine! Fine! Ask your stupid question!"

You can hear your own pride shattering in the background but you swallowed to shards and stared at him.

He laughed again, and you swore if he laughed one more time you're going to throw hands.

"Calling it stupid is kind of mean."

"Just say it."

He smirked at your snarky reply, eyes starring at you so intently that your wounded pride almost let you whine.

He lead down his head, pushing you, once again on the wall. One arm on you waist, the other - still holding the blasted underwear - burried in your hair, holding it so that it stayed looking at him.

The same position the two of you were in before.

He swiped his tongue out licking his lips, all the while staring into you with those eyes. And for a moment it seemed like you two were back in that club. He slowly pressed his face besides your's, taking your earlobe between his teeth. His gentle nibbling making it harder to suppress the shaking of your body.

After a while, he released your ear, only to whisper lowly. Hot breath blowing against it.

"Is that all you got?"

This is a bad, bad idea.

But without the alcohol this time you had nothing to blame but yourself as you pulled him closer, eager to get another taste.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #Indra #SnV Indra #RoR Indra #gn reader #x reader #oneshots #fanfiction #Nsfw-ish #Indra probably wheezes during sex #I said it #sue me

80 notes · View notes

hoodieofholland · 3 years

Text

Handsome Man // Professor!Tom

Summary: you think your professor is a really good-looking man and let it slip out of your mouth.

Word count: ~2.9k

Warnings: none, except for some swearing.

A/n: I really liked writing the prof!tom universe and made it longer now (thanks anon that motivated me to write more about it). taking a moment to add that i always get this feeling that first encounter between reader and professor tom would be like fluffy as hell, he'd be so polite and that fucking accent of him ugghhh. Perfect. Anyways, enjoy!

Masterlist

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Good morning, everyone!"

You raise your head abruptly, snapped out of your thoughts. Which, by the way, were all directed to the man who was walking down to his desk with a sweet yet confident smile on his face.

"You all are looking so excited with Monday" he says playfully and the class laughs. "Hope I'm worth your tired time here this morning".

You straighten your back, picking pen and book from your backpack as Professor Holland organizes his materials on the wood desk.

You weren't a square at classes or anything like that. But surely you were never late for English classes, neither badly dressed up. You always made sure to pick your best outfit, not leaving out the professional look, all to impress your favorite professor.

Not that you were silly enough to believe something would come out from that strictly professional relationship, but it was inevitable for you wanting to feel pretty around him, as your imagination flew wild whenever he stepped in the classroom.

Professor Holland was really something else. He wasn't only a handsome man, with a noticeable muscular body hidden behind the much formal clothes he wore. He wasn't only the youngest professor in that department. He was intelligent, had a good sense of humor and was incredibly polite.

You could tell by the way girls always seemed to be extra interested on this class that you weren't the only one in the room to feel attracted to your professor.

You always made sure to ne early so you could take a seat in the front row, not to claim for his attention, but to be able to pain attention to the lecture and also get the opportunity to have a good look at him once in a while, mostly when he was distracted, sitting at his desk and taking notes on the classes' essays.

By the end of the lesson, he dismissed the students and you started to pack your things, barely motivated to your next classes. Now that you wouldn't have your professor's look to distract you a bit, it really felt like fucking Monday.

There were only around four students left in the room, and you, who was caring your notebook and pencil on your hands, walking directly to Professor Holland's desk clarify his small notes he took on your essay from last week.

Three girls were standing around his desk, smiling widely as he explained something that were on the board.

"But, Professor Holland..." one of the girls asked the same stupid question again, letting his name roll along her tongue, as she was savoring it. You roll your eyes, flicking your feet as you waited impatiently for your chance to have a time with him.

Professor Holland sighed and gently tried to reassure the group of girls that they could have the assistant to solve their other questions, as he was running out of time and there was another person he had to assist.

Finally, the girls gave in and passed through you, taking the time to send you a look. You just shrugged it off and walked to the Professor's desk.

"Miss. Y/l/n" he greets your, a small smile forming of his lips. Your stomach felt like flipping inside of you and you tried to keep your composure as you reached his desk. "Any questions left?"

"Actually, Professor..." you handed him the paper, a bit ashamed of he remembering it was yours and connecting the words you wrote down with your face. It was so much easier when you didn't see your professor reading your text. "I marked some of the notes you wrote and didn't understand, if you could help me".

He looked over the text, a wrinkle of concentration between his brows, and just when he lifted his gaze back to you, you felt your heart fastening.

"Of course", he gives you a tightlipped smile, grabbing a pen to point some of the corrections to you. "See, there weren't any big mistake on this, you could say I'm just a perfectionist. Actually, this was one of the best essays from the class".

Your eyes light up immediately, feeling too enthusiastic for the compliment. "Thank you, Sir. It means a lot".

Professor Holland nodded once, averting his eyes from you for a moment, his face taking on a more stern look. Then he started to explain his notes and you felt more relaxed as you notice it wasn't really that big of mistakes. You listened with full attention and commented on what you felt like could improve on your writing.

"I feel like if you take your time to rewrite it and survey some of your constructions, this text will be more than excellent" he pointed, handing you the paper again, a proud smile on his lips. Then, he chuckled a bit, playfully, "Obviously, the first score is the one that will be considered for your grade, so it's up to you. But I think it'll be a great work".

You smile happily. "Sure, I'll do it", you take the paper back again and put it inside your folder. Looking at the wall clock, you just notice it's too long past the break between classes. "Shit, I didn't realize it was past your lessons' time already. I'm sorry, I should be going-"

"It's alright, Miss. Y/l/n". He sends you a reassurance smile, putting a hand over yours for a brief moment, but that didn't make it go under your notice. "I'm always satisfied to waste a little more time on my most dedicated students, and even more glad that your questions wasn't about lessons itself", he grimaces and you could tell what he was referring too. "Not in my best behavior saying it out loud, but I was starting to think I wasn't doing a great explanation".

You laugh a bit and shake your head. "Oh, you shouldn't worry about it. I'm pretty sure you're the best professor from this department. Plus, those girls weren't seriously having a problem with the subject" you roll your eyes softly, still smiling, but not quite realising what you had just said.

Professor Holland scowls, face confused as he catches your last sentence. "What do you mean?"

You froze, eyes widening as you gulp. "I-I mean- like, you were explaining it for the fourth time already... it wasn't possible that they didn't get it. I think they were more interested on... you know?".

He narrow his eyes, quirked his brow questioning, expecting you to explain yourself. A shiver pass through your body, embarrassment running right to your blushing cheeks as you struggle to find a proper answer.

"I mean, I think they were interested on... you". You almost cough, looking for somewhere else to stare in the room, avoiding your Professor's concentrated eyes. But as silent is completely made, you have to make sure he isn't mad at your stupid comment. Averting your eyes back at him, you are surprised to be met with his brown ones filled with what seemed amusement.

He was supporting his chin on his fist, a curious look covering his soft feature, hiding a smile behind the thumb pressed against his lips.

"Why would you think that?" He asked in the same amused tone and you never felt more stupid.

You wanted to slap your forehead and hide your entire self on the closest bathroom, but Professor Holland had those glistening brown soft eyes on you, nothing but a relaxed face put in your display, his sultry voice - which you were pretty sure wouldn't sound like this on purpose - incentivanting you to continue.

You cleared your throat and collected your devilish thoughts to think straight.

"I guess most of the girls here think you're, y'know, a handsome man" you shrugged, wanting so much sound casual, as that wasn't your personal opinion.

Mr. Holland raised his eyebrows, you couldn't tell if it was surprise for your answer or for your courage on saying that out loud. Maybe both.

"Did you hear that?", he questioned, tilting his head a little to the side. "From those girls?"

He got you. You knew that. He knew you were just making assumptions, which meant that could only be your own opinion expressed on the vision you had over other students.

"No", you answered under your breath, gulping. "It's just a guess".

Silent was made and you felt terrified. You truly started to think that Mr. Holland was planning the most tough comments on your behavior, that he would try to show you how unprofessional and not ethic at all was your opinion about him, that he was your professor and you were his student, nothing beyond that. But then he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair as his eyes concentrated on you.

He looked like someone who was pondering something, but your nervousness calmed down a little bit at the way he had his gaze over you. Though his eyes were dark, that couldn't be so bad, if he didn't have a mad expression on.

"Is it what you think?" He tried again, the corner of his mouth threatening to quirk. "Do you think I'm a handsome man?"

You close your eyes briefly, feeling past ashamed of it. "I'm sorry, it's pathetic, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Miss. Y/l/n" he chuckles softly. "Don't make a big deal out of it. After all, I'm not much older than you, am I? Shouldn't be so wrong to have an opinion about my looking".

He was taking it so calmly that you couldn't believe. Maybe he was right, maybe it wasn't a big deal. Or maybe he was so used to having girls head over heels for him that it didn't get on his nerves anymore.

You sigh and decide to agree better than discuss anything and make more shame on yourself. "Anyways, I just wanted you to know that-"

"Mr. Holland?"

A voice interrupt him, and you turn your head abruptly to see another professor standing in the door frame, a case on his hand, eyes going between both of you. "Sorry for interrupting, but I'm giving my next lesson here. Is it taking too long, or...?"

"Oh, no", Mr. Holland smiled fondly and stood up, gathering his things from the desk. "Pardon me, didn't realize it was so late. Miss y/l/n, do you have any more questions left?"

You narrow your eyes at him, a bit taken aback as you knew you weren't making any questions seconds prior. He was lying, lying about the reason why the two of you were stuck in his classroom for so long. So you just nodded back and corrected your face.

"No, I'm fine, Sir. Thanks for your time" you smiled a little before turning in your heels.

The other man entered the class and started to put his things above the table, with Mr. Holland beside him. You were about to step out of the room when you hear your professor talking to you.

"Oh, and Miss. Y/l/n?" You turned your head to look at him again. He smiled. "It'd be lovely if you rewrite that essay. You can pass by my office later to show me your corrections, if you want to".

You blink, too surprised to answer right away. With a pounding heart on your chest, you nod, wishing nothing but to work on that useless essay as soon as possible.

____________

The day passes quickly, your mind too occupied with your essay. Missing some of your later classes, you saved time to stay until 6pm in the library, trying to come out with the of your writing whilst correcting the mistakes Mr. Holland pointed for you.

Certainly, that was the most dedicated you've ever been for a work.

But you couldn't resist the anxiety running through your body as you thought about walking down that aisle in the Professor Holland's office direction.

Again, you weren't expecting anything beyond him reading your text again, but the thought of seeing him alone one time was exciting itself.

You finish your work and put the paper inside a case, gathering everything together and walking straight to the aisle of English department.

It was empty and quiet, not a sight of any students neither professors around, as it was past the last lectures for the day.

Taking a few good breathes, you smooth your hand down your skirt before knocking softly on Professor Holland office's door.

"Come in!"

You turn the handle and open the door, closing it behind you. Mr. Holland looked tired, eyes heavy under his glasses. He also seemed busy, reading a book and taking his notes.

"Oh, Miss Y/l/n", he smiles warmly when his eyes lift to your face, waving a hand for you to take a seat in front of his desk. "Glad to see you. I suppose you made the corrections on your essay?"

You smile and nod, sitting down before reaching your paper in your backpack. "I added some other points I thought about when reading again", you hand him your essay and he takes it, fingers touching yours briefly, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Great" he looked over the paper, reading more cautiously at some point in the middle, where the biggest changes were made. He seemed impressed with your work and you couldn't help but feel the euphoria by each time the curve of his lips seemed to form a smile.

You looked over his office. It was small, but enough for one person only. There was a shelf full of books and a pretty tiny table across the room, cups, water and what you assumed to be tea inside a bottle on top of that.

"It's really cozy here" you speak out loud, more to yourself, wandering and picturing Mr. Holland sitting beside his little table and taking his tea while reading one of the shelf's book.

He smiles, lifting his glance from the paper to your face, which was still looking around. "You like it?"

You blink a few times before answering, a bit embarrassed that he caught your vague comment. "Yeah". His face held nothing but a contemplating look. "It must feel really good to have an office all to yourself".

Mr. Holland laughs quietly. "I don't spend too much time here to appreciate that much, actually", he admits. "Most of my time in the building is spent in classrooms and I pretty much like taking my work home, so... But, yes, it's good".

"I'd like it. Y'know, having somewhere you can take a time off and even have lunch when everywhere else is so full of people". You make your point, shrugging.

Something crosses Mr. Holland's face, but he quickly make it disappear.

"Well", he says, looking at your essay again after clearing his throat. "I like it very much. Not a single mistake this time. I can say properly now that this is the best essay I received for last week's work".

You smile widely. "Thank you, Mr. Holland".

He look up at your again, a small and hesitating smile on his lips. "You can call me Tom", when you open your mouth and say anything, he continues, "If you want. Mr. Holland just makes me feel so old".

You laugh at his grimace. "Oh, you're nothing near old, no worry on that".

Tom smiles more freely, if not smugly, and you feel your cheeks darkening in pink.

"Yeah, you think I'm... a handsome man, right?" He teases you and for a moment, it's not like your formal and professional professor is the one in the room anymore. You smiles sheepishly, bitting your lips to try to contain it.

"I'm sorry for that again", you shake your head, but Tom whines.

"If you don't stop with your apologies, I'm going to give you another essay to write". He says playfully. "I'm just joking, y/n".

Hearing your first name coming out of his mouth warms your heart and you feel like exploding in excitement.

"Wouldn't be such a punishment, I think" you admit, looking to your hands.

Tom narrows his eyes, corner of his mouth raising in a smile again. "And why is that?"

You bite your lower lips, pressing your fingers in the palm of your hand nervously as you think about what you're saying next, "Well, if it meant I'd have to come here to show you, I'd gladly write one".

Tom takes your answer slowly, smile growing on his face and he chuckles softly. "Really?"

"Yeah", you nod.

Tom stares at you for the following seconds and it's just as when you glance at the clock in his desk that yiu realize you've spent too much time inside his office.

"I think I gotta go now", you say, standing up and picking your backpack and essay. It wouldn't look good a student getting out of a professor's office so late in the night.

Tom smiled sadly and got up too, watching as you made your way to the door. But before you could open it, you remembered you last talk in the classroom.

"Tom?" You tested the name on your lips, savoring the liberty he had just given to you. He looked at you, waiting. "What was it you were going to say before that professor entered the classroom?"

He took a few seconds thinking and then a trace of a small smile came to his features.

"I was just going to say that I appreciate your compliment" he licks his lips and you smile. "Also, that you should know I think you're pretty gorgeous too".

#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #professor!tom #prof!tom #professor!tom x reader #tom x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagines

259 notes · View notes

thefallenbibliophilequote · 3 years

Text

I Know Places

Loki x Reader

1989, chapter 12

"And everyone was watching"

Summary: It's hard to find the one, but even if you do find him it's always going to be a daily struggle to make it work. Can you even make it work after he broke your heart? The answer to that is complicated, but it all started when you found each other again in the stark tower- and that's where our story begins.

Word count: 5,106

Warnings: an intense game of Uno, angst, fluff, Odin, and one perfect punch. Not in that order.

A/N: we are so close to the end! Thank you @chrissquares for the beautiful dividers! And thank you so much for @nacho-bucky for beta reading this for me!

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Series masterlist

Song on Spotify and YouTube

His hands were on your waistline yet again when you woke up. It has been this way ever since Bruce cleared you from the med bay. Loki refused to leave your side. Every time as you fell asleep you felt the tingles of Loki's magic, helping you calm your mind and dream peacefully. Loki had told you all about what happened, so once he managed to get through your powers he took it upon himself to make sure you sleep safe and sound. You didn't remember your dreams, yet whenever you woke up you could not feel more at peace. It had been far too long without Loki for you- it always was.

You slowly cracked your eyes open through the daylight, coming face to face with the trickster god sound asleep. You couldn't help the smile that took over you- he looked so young, so innocent, here sleeping next to you with a soft light casting shadows on his long lashes. You brushed a strand of hair from his face and when he stirred you turned around and backed into his embrace.

"Good morning, darling."

"Good morning, Loki." You hid your head into the soft pillow loving how it now smelt of him, taking his hand that was draped over you and lacing your fingers with his, tightening his hold on you.

Opening your eyes you looked at the small blaze that stayed seated on your bedside drawer.

"Oh shoot, we forgot to put the candles out last night." You looked around the room where candles were still lit up, giving the room a warm light besides the illumination from outside.

"Leave it, darling. Let's go back to sleep." He kissed the side of your neck, grunting when you got out of the bed, leaving him in the warm sheets. "You don't need to put them out."

"It's dangerous, Loki, it'll take just a moment."

You went around the room and put out the small fires along the way, one by one. You got to your dresser and blew on the candle softly before stepping away, and then you noticed it didn't die out. You blew on it again and yet it only swayed.

"I can't put this one out." You tried again.

"Maybe it doesn't want to, just leave it be." Loki groaned as he stretched in bed. "Leave it lit."

You huffed and blew on it again with more force, and the fragile little flame burnt out, leaving the room lit only by the outside rising sun.

Satisfied with yourself, you went back to the bed, and fell on top of Loki with a giggle.

"Okay, now we can rest."

•

The walls were filled with hushed chatter as Thor passed the gold filled halls. He went through the familiar corridors with his head held up high until the guards pushed open the door for him and he entered the throne room.

"My son, what have you come here to inform me?" Odin looked down upon the golden haired prince as he walked towards the stairs of the Allfather.

"Well Father, I'm sure you will be glad to hear that we managed to find Y/N and she is all better now." Thor smiled at his father before continuing, "We also found the missing weapons, but I'm afraid there are some bad news as well…"

"Well, get on with it."

"We figured out who was responsible for the missing weapons- apparently it was Lady Iyllir, Father."

"What? How preposterous. You can't expect me to believe that! The lady and her family are very well respected, and the young lady is to marry your brother soon!"

"During the battle we saw her there- she was threatening Y/N and others. Loki had to take her down." Thor tried explaining to his father, but it was of no use. "I saw it."

"You saw it? Are you certain Loki didn't just act without thinking?" Odin questioned his son, Thor just nodded, remembering how Loki had looked at you when you laid motionless as they took you back from the warehouse.

"I have no doubt that he thought it though, what was done was necessary and just."

Odin only hummed, considering his son's claims.

"It ended as it should have, and besides- we got everything back!" Thor laughed lightly, smiling at his father but it didn't last long.

"Not everything."

•

"As much as I love having you back, kid, I will have Steve ground you to your room if you do what you're about to do!" Tony threatened you and you bit your lip to hide your smile. You looked to Natasha in front of you, and to Loki next to you, before laying the card on the center of the table.

"Take four, Uno." You let the smirk take over your face.

"Gosh-darn it- fucking hell-" Tony grumbled as he took cards from the pile.

"Come on Tony leave her alone, her cards were just better than yours." Steve chuckled and looked over at you.

"Yeah Tony, I won fair and square." Loki smirked besides you and put a hand around your waist.

"No, I don't trust it." Tony pointed at Loki and then at you. "You helped her cheat, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you mean, Stark." Loki tilted his head a bit in a show of innocence, but Tony didn't have any of it. "Why would I interfere in the game?"

"You kids are in love, that gives you motive!"

"Perhaps, but alas you have no proof." You could feel him relax next to you as others laughed and some even threw cards around until you couldn't continue playing the game and instead you just talked about nothing in particular and ate snacks.

You looked around at all your friends with a small smile on your lips. It felt all too familiar and yet so foreign to you. You never thought you would have this, a family doesn't end in blood but it doesn't have to start there either. There, through the spies and geniuses, you found a place where you felt protected and happy- a safe haven. Maybe every bait and switch in the tapestry of your life was a work of art that was meant to bring you all the way here. It was almost perfect, you almost had everything you could wish for but you decided not to dwell on that now while Loki was smiling so openly and Steve was laughing alongside the group that gathered around you- surrounding you with warmth even December storms couldn't penetrate.

"Love," Loki called you in a quiet voice. You looked up at him. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You almost winced at that, but you only shook your head.

"I'm just-" for luck of a better word, "home."

You stayed in the compound with the team for the weekend, the quiet outside and the trees helped all of you get some normalcy after everything that happened. You missed that.

It seemed like Loki understood you, he always did, as he kissed your forehead and brought you back to the conversation. It was almost weird seeing him exchanging non harmful snarky comments with Bucky, and somehow getting along with your newfound family, but you only took it with a smile, basking in the warm feeling as you caught Steve's eye and offered him a smile which he returned. You couldn't wish for anything better than this.

•

Loki has been called by Odin to a meeting, and so he reluctantly got out of your bed as daylight reached your window and was now walking into the palace. He was stopped in his tracks, however, by a shriek.

"You!" he turned to see Iyllir's mother pacing fast towards him with her husband trailing behind her. "You are a murderer, you killed our daughter and you dare walk here with pride? You are a disgusting vile frost giant-"

"If I were you, I would be careful with how you talk to your prince." He sharply replied. Loki didn't spare a thought about Iyllir's parents- or her demise at all, so it didn't occur to him that her parents would still be at the palace. "I understand your grief, I sincerely apologize for it, but your daughter was a traitor of Asgard and forced my hand. The deed was justified."

"You can say whatever you want, prince," Iyllir's father spat the word at him and he clenched his jaw, trying to keep his composure. "Our daughter only did it because of you! I heard the rumors, everyone knows about the Midgardian girl you chose over Iyllir! She was simply doing what had to be done to make you choose correctly!"

The yells started to draw the attention of the workers who were around the palace entrance, he could hear them whisper as they passed by. It's a scene that he is out here in clear sight with the mother and father of the girl he had killed.

"You are nothing but a cunning little fox, a pretend prince, thinking that a mortal could be with such a monster. Don't you know that their petty little lives are but a fraction of ours? Nothing can come out of it but you suffering- and I hope that you will suffer immensely." The once graceful lady was gritting her teeth now. "And as from what I know from Midgard, you can run but the hunters are always hunting for foxes like you."

Loki had had enough of it.

"If that is supposed to be a threat then it is a poor one," his voice was low now and he was satisfied with the way their eyes went wide and they took a step back when he took a step forward. "I suggest you leave Asgard, for good, before I show you what it is like to be hunted. You won't last long, I assure you of that, I will make sure you feel how insignificant you are that you think you can talk to me in such a way. Your daughter hurt the woman I love, and her death was quick but I promise it will not be the case with you if you even dare talk about my love in such a way."

He took pride at the fright in their eyes, the way they scrambled away into the nearest carriage.

Straightening his collar, his sharp glare silenced every whisper in the hallway as he made his way to Odin.

•

You stood in the kitchen, making a batch of pancakes when you saw Loki enter the kitchen. You walked to him with a smile.

"Loki! You're finally back, would you like some pancakes?" You leaned up to kiss him but you barely felt him return it. He seemed to be considering your offer for a bit too long, before he nodded.

"Of course, my love, I would love it." He smiled at you and it made you forget everything else, as well as the batch you had on the pan that was getting burned by the second. Loki scrunched his nose, "Why do I smell smoke?"

You spent the day with Loki, a lazy Saturday afternoon with your lover, a perfect day.

Loki didn't seem to talk much, he didn't have that usual spark in his eye that you always saw. But that was okay, you managed to bring it out of him, you always did.

Your lazy day got ruined when Natasha and Sam showed up at the entrance of the common room with a bucket full of filled out water balloons and a hefty amount of water guns.

"Grab your weapon of choice, Bucky started this so we are going hunting- and you are on our team."

You turned to Loki with a smile; maybe this will cheer him up.

"What do you say, trickster? Do you want to go hunting?" with a smirk Natasha threw a gun your way and Sam threw one towards Loki, as you got up you missed the ghostly look that crossed Loki's face.

Now, you were sure that Bucky and Steve started this as a friendly fight. But the two punks were now running away as the fight turned into a war.

"Come on now Y/N, won't you spare me?" Steve had a mischievous glint in his eyes that betrayed his words. You had him cornered as he had his hands held up at the loaded gun you were pointing at him. You disarmed him from his own water balloons.

"I'm sorry Cap, you started it." As you started spraying him with water he ducked to the side and grabbed water balloons.

"Run."

And run you did, you saw as others fought beside you, when you spotted Loki you grabbed his hand and took him with you. You sprayed water behind you when you tried to lose the ones who chased.

"Where are we running?"

"Come on, I know a place we won't be found!" you giggled when a balloon hit Loki and he glared at Steve who was right on your tail, grabbing your gun and aiming right at his face. At the shriek you heard you knew Loki hit his target.

You ran for the fences up ahead, yelling at Loki to jump right when you did.

"Love," he tried to keep up with you as you pulled him with you. "You have failed to tell me where we are going."

"You'll see! They can't track us here." you took a sharp turn when you reached the woods until you stopped in front of a big tree. You started climbing it and Loki followed until you got high enough that you saw above the other trees. There you decided to lean on the tree while sitting on a wide tree branch with Loki by your side.

Loki kissed the palm of your hand and no words were exchanged when you played with his hair and you watched the skies as they turned into a canvas of warmer shades of colours.

•

Days have passed as you went back to the tower and you found yourself waking up to a cold bed, and if Loki was there with you then he disappeared during the day with the same explanation, "I have a meeting in Asgard."

At what point does an explanation become an excuse?

One day you decided to distract yourself with cleaning your room, so you started with your dresser. Pulling out boxes of jewelry you went to open them and start sorting when you caught side of a green glimmer in the dead of the night just outside of your door and with sudden annoyance you threw the box you held back into the drawer then you closed it and got up from the floor.

"Hi love-" Loki started, smiling when he saw you again.

"Loki, tell me what's going on, you are gone so much lately!" He gave you a smile that you knew all too well.

"I told you-"

"No excuses! What's wrong up there in Asgard?" You sat on your bed and Loki stood in front of you, you tried to pull him to sit beside you but he didn't budge. You saw the resolve fall from his face and his sharp cheekbones only enhanced the somber look he had now.

"It seems that my brother has loose lips whenever he talks to my father, and some talks have spread."

"And what about it?" you tilted your head to the side and watched him as he tried to keep his composure; you saw the anger flash in his eyes but it wasn't directed at you.

"Well, it seems that my father is not pleased about everything that occurred."

"Of course he isn't, but I'm sure Thor made it better if anything!" you drew circles on his palms with your thumbs.

"No, he isn't pleased with what was taken from Asgard- he isn't pleased that a mortal has Asgardian powers," he clutched your hands in his when you started to let go. "He isn't pleased with you."

Now you were the crestfallen one. You tried not to get lost in your head.

"What does he want?" Loki knew you were trying to hide the fear that was sinking deep within you.

You adjusted the skirt of your dress, standing nervously in the middle of the room. You weren't really sure why you were feeling this anxious when you've seen Loki hundreds of times before, but now you knew why as you were straightening your dress you remembered that you bought it because of him- for him. The green of it reminded you of the shirt he often wears; when you complimented him he admitted to it being his favourite colour.

You hoped he would like it.

So yeah it was just another movie night with Loki, but it was the first one after you realized you were in love with him, after you actually let your feelings get inside your head and take over your actions.

The familiar gentle knock on the door startled you from the daze and you went to open the door to Loki.

There he stood in front of you in his green dress shirt- he always dressed like he was a royal going to a gala of some sort. And you loved it.

"Hi darling," Loki took a minute to look you over at the dress you wore. He had to tear his eyes away from your body to look into your eyes. "What are we watching this time?"

He smiled at you as he walked in and you willed yourself to act naturally- he was your best friend, nothing changed.

"I like the dress, you look marvelous in it." You decided to go to the kitchen to get some much needed water and snacks for the movie.

"Yes, thank you." You took pride at the steady voice you managed to voice out.

Loki stood there in the middle of the living room and admired the way your body looked as you wore his colours. He put his hand over the pocket of his pants, feeling the golden necklace he got you. In Asgard it would seem like courting- giving a lady a necklace such as this, but he hoped in Midgard it is regarded as something more casual. He wouldn't want to give away his own feelings that seemed to burst through. Loki knows he can be comfortable around you- you made him feel welcomed and loved. But this feeling is new to him, this feeling towards you was new as well.

He didn't know he was smiling until you walked up to him with a smile and his favourite snacks.

"Let's start!"

As the movie went on you felt more like yourself with him, the chemistry was still there just like he was still your best friend- your newfound feelings didn't change it and you were grateful for that.

"I could never be that," you said suddenly during the movie.

"What do you mean?" You had your legs curled under you as you sat on the couch next to Loki. You turned to him, setting your drink down.

"A hero." When he gave you a strange look you continued. "I know that magic doesn't exist, but everyone dream for it. And I know that everyone, me included, would want to enter that magical universe and get out of this mundane world- but in reality it is never what it seems like."

"But wouldn't you like magic?" Loki felt his heart drop at your words. "You love all of these movies and all of them have magic in them."

"I would love it! But think about it Loki, in reality it would be such a difficult life, even the characters there know it and we see it. So yeah I would love it, but I think it could never be peaceful and it would only end up hurting. So I can long for it, but I don't think I would like to have it," you explained and bit your lip before looking at him. "I'm happy right now."

You smiled at him and continued watching the movie. He decided it is probably better if he didn't give you the necklace tonight.

•

Whatever you imagined Asgard would be like after the countless stories Loki had told you- nothing could have prepared you for the extravagant sights of it. Golden arches and flush greenery everywhere you went. You knew Asgard was a place for the gods, it was a dreamland and yet still this was far from the capabilities of your mind.

The sights of it drew your attention from the reason you were coming here in the first place. That was until you felt Loki's hand squeeze your own, and you started to really notice your surroundings.

You heard the whispers of the Asgardian people as you passed by, standing between Thor and Loki. You saw the judgmental looks people sent your way when they saw Loki's hand was entwined with yours.

Then you saw the palace. If it were any other day, you could've pretended that you were there with Loki for a ball like the one you imagined so many times so long ago. But now you were filled with dread that you were certain you were going to throw up, and it wasn't because of the travel.

The travel was nice comparing to what you expected, a man named Heimdall greeted you and when you looked into his eyes you felt as if he could see through you, as if he knew everything about you. He was still nice to you, wishing you luck as you walked on the bridge towards the palace. You didn't know how he knew but you accepted the welcomed wish.

Loki and Thor were both quiet as you stepped through the guards and when you passed the gate chills went down your spine. You felt as if you were trapped in a box when they closed it behind you, like you just walked into a gilded cage.

You understood what Loki was always ranting to you about- it was stifling in here.

Loki guided you until the three of you reached dark yet golden doors that behind them you knew the Allfather sat. right before the doors opened you looked over at Loki and at the sight of his tense face and hollowed eyes you remembered it all: all the countless times Loki came home to you in distress and on the brink of crying, all those times you had to hold him until his mind finally let him sleep, all those times were you had to force Loki out of all the toxic self destructive thoughts that were planted in his head by his father.

You weren't as scared anymore when the doors opened and you walked forward, holding Loki's hand tightly.

You hated him from the minute you saw him. A king sat there on a throne, you didn't expect anything else but what caught your eye and fuelled your already blazing hatred were the stairs. The throne he was sitting on was placed on the top of a line of stairs that led up to him, letting him look down at anyone who entered the place. It disgusted you, but you had to keep your cool for now, for Loki.

You remembered everything that Loki and the team explained to you about what happened during all this time that the two of you were apart. And most of all you remembered your promise.

"Ah my children, you finally arrived." Odin said before looking at you. You refused to let him see your fear, so you straightened your back but still kept holding Loki's hand. "And are you the midgardian girl I have heard so much about, Y/N?"

You looked at Loki who squeezed your hand and gave you a small nod with a little smile.

"Yes, I am." You tucked your hair behind your ears before getting to what you really were here for. "I heard that you wanted to talk about my powers."

"Yes, my child. Come forward." He told you and you reluctantly let go of Loki's hand. Loki looked at his brother who seemed just as agitated as he was and that was already not a good sign. "I'm assuming you have been told already that by Loki's mistake you have received Asgardian powers. The kind of powers you have are of the ancient arts of Asgard."

"Okay, what about it? Loki protected me and I ended up getting these powers that I have learned to control over the years." you furrowed your brows at the information and tried to smile at your own claims, it had been difficult to process but you understood your powers better now.

"That is well, my child." Odin rested his hand on the armchair and leaned back with his staff. "But since these powers are Asgardian, a mortal should not have them. They shall be taken away from you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"What the fuck?" you and Loki spoke at the same time.

"Father, you cannot do this, she is more than worthy to carry these powers." Loki came forward to stand in front of you now, protective.

"I agree, Father the powers have chosen her. These types of ancient powers were supposed to kill a mere mortal but they didn't, that surely means something about her capabilities." Thor added and stepped forward too, putting a hand on your shoulder. You looked down as you got lost in thought before speaking up.

"How can you do it? Take my powers away, I mean." Loki turned to you but you kept your gaze on the floor.

"Well dear, I am the Allfather, ruler of Asgard and the 9 realms. I am capable of doing things you- a mere mortal, cannot comprehend. And about how I would go about it-"

"May I approach you, before you continue?" you then asked, and it took him a second to consider it before he nodded. What is the harm in a midgardian girl being by him? You shrugged Loki's hand off when he went to take your arm. He was downright scared by the look in your eyes.

You went up the stairs towards the almighty Allfather and when you were on his level, he leaned forward in the chair awaiting what you had to say to him.

"While you are all that, I am Y/N, a human girl from earth and-" you smiled at him before taking your fist and colliding it with his cheek, making him throw his head back in the process. The look of fury didn't startle you when you met his gaze. "I'm sorry, but I made a promise a long time ago, Your Highness." You bowed your head and walked back down the stairs to Loki, who seemed to be at war between a prideful smile and fear for your safety.

"How dare you, you cannot do such a thing-" Odin stood up with his staff ready.

"Can't I?" you tilted your head at him as you stood next to Loki. "I didn't use my powers like I so easily could, because I didn't want to. So do continue what you said."

"Are you mad?" Loki whisper yelled in your ear.

"Quite possibly." You turned to kiss his cheek and found that hidden mischief in his eyes that you loved so.

"Father, please forgive her, I am certain the lady was just upset about the new information."

"Oh no I wholeheartedly meant that." Thor gave you an exasperated look before Odin dismissed him.

"Well as a matter of fact, extracting the powers away from you will involve a very deep process since the powers are so attached to you and your mind. Extracting those means also extracting all the memories of everything your powers have touched or affected- as well as their source."

You did not appreciate the satisfied look he had on when your own face fell as you took in his words. You couldn't be comforted by Loki who you knew would have detected a lie if Odin had uttered it as a form of revenge and pettiness.

You knew that there was no choice as far as Odin was concerned, but you knew Loki and you could feel his brilliant mind spinning around seeking a way out for you, he may have let Odin hurt him but hurting you is crossing a line no one will come back alive from.

So you did have a choice in fact, but given the opportunity you never thought you'd have, the answer wasn't hard to pick.

"Okay." You heard your own voice pick the path you will walk on, your voice was quiet but you knew they all heard you clearly.

"Y/N!" Loki turned to you and you did too. "You don't have to do this, don't think that because he says so I will let it happen when you don't want it!"

"I want it, Loki."

"You what?" he was taken aback- his eyes were studying you now, calculating an explanation.

"These powers Loki, they are not good."

"No, don't say that, don't let him convince you that something about yourself is bad- Norns, darling nothing about you in bad."

He cupped your cheek, trying to get you to understand. But he didn't understand what you were saying. Your eyes turned glossy with unshed tears.

"It's horrible, these powers are evil- I don't want them anymore." You searched his blue eyes but all you got was resistance."I felt them Loki, I felt them and they hurt. I want them gone, and now I have a way to do it."

"No, love can't you see? I've been trying to tell you this from the beginning- Your powers don't only cause harm. They can also heal and calm people down, they can do good- you are good."

"I've been there Loki- inside my mind, and all these powers are just dark. They hurt me, I don't want them anymore. I don't want it, they are staining me like blood on my hands- I don't want to carry this around anymore." You put your head in the crook of his neck, seeking comfort in his touch.

Loki froze in place at your words, they broke his heart because of the way you felt, but you also broke his heart because if you choose to lose your powers then…

Next thing you knew Loki moved away from you and walked out of the door before you could chase after him.

"Loki!"

•

Tags: @ayybtch @buckys-other-punk @chaoticpete @madcrazy50 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @the-departed-potato @rogerrhqpsody @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @percabethismyotp14

72 notes · View notes

sammysmaddy · 3 years

Text

You (Sam x Reader)*

Summary: Sam has been watching you for quite some time now and one night he gets his opportunity to have you.

Characters: Stalker!Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader (AU, Sam and Dean don't know each other)

Rating: 18+

Chapter Warnings: Angst, stalking, dub con at the very least, non con beginning, p in v, protected sex (kind of) :), crying, oral (fem. receiving), talk of rape, implied attempted date rape (not from Sam), hand job ish, blowjob ish, rough sex, breeding kink ish, hair pulling. I think that's it.

W/C: Well over 10,000 :) I got carried away in the story lol.

A/N: Inspired by 'You' because I love crazy psycho people and it makes me more than happy to pretend that Sam could be like that too. Let me know if you want this to be a series ;)

Masterlist

Sam's POV

You looked so pretty on your date tonight. Your date is an arrogant, cocky son of a bitch, and I know you see it. I don't know what you find attractive about him, he doesn't care about you or how you're feeling- he only cares what you look like. You're just arm candy for his selfish need to be seen by everyone and you seem to be paying no attention to that fact. He ignores you when you talk, he looks down your shirt at your cleavage every time you turn your head, and he only talks about himself. Yet, most likely knowing all of this, you find him fascinating. You stay quiet when he speaks, you laugh at his half-assed jokes, you let him talk about you like you're not even there. When his friend came to talk from a few tables over, you let him degrade you. You let him talk about how perfect your body is, how compliant you are, and you smiled as he did so. But, you still didn't seem to mind. You blushed and took his disgusting words as a compliment. Maybe you're hoping that he'll be able to satisfy you at the end of the night or maybe the only thing that's keeping you sane are his green eyes. He doesn't even truly recognize how beautiful you are.

But I do. You, Y/N, I knew it was you ever since the first time we met. It was that small coffee shop in the middle of the city, so far from your house that I had a hard time tracking you down. After watching you, I realized that you don't even like coffee. You only like it when it's pumped full of sugar and completely diluted into almost zero caffeine. I purposefully bumped into you to get your attention and you apologized to me. Too bad you were in a hurry that day, I would have loved to get to know you right off the bat. I could have drank my coffee and you could have drank your sugar concoction and we could have talked until the store closed. I would have found out what interests you, what your hobbies were, what your family was like, and maybe in a few months, you would have invited me to meet them.

You weren't like all of the other girls. You're shy and you're sweet and you're too scared to tell the waiter when your order comes out wrong, you are the definition of perfect. You don't like overstepping boundaries or oversharing details about yourself because you're too scared that people might find you annoying, but you are just the opposite. You're everything I've ever wanted. Your head holds beautiful locks of hair, your nose crinkles when you smile, your eyes shut when you laugh too hard, and the best part is that you don't even have to try. Even when you don't wear makeup or focus on your appearance, you are just as breathtaking. You are intoxicating, you are the essence of beauty, you are meant for me- and for the fucked up fact of the day, you don't even know who I am.

You don't even know that I've been protecting you for the past six months, watching over you at home to make sure you don't choke on your food or accidentally hurt yourself. You don't know that I follow you to the store and through the parking lot to make sure nobody takes advantage of you. You don't know that I watch you every time you choose a random douchebag from the bar to take home or how I see that you can make any man come undone in less than three minutes. You don't know how much I envy them or how much I wished that you made those faces for me.

But they always let you down, don't they? It's like you don't love yourself, it's like you want to be used by all of those men. You never choose the right one and every time you're close to release, they beat you to the punch. I know the face you make when you come undone around your fingers and they rarely ever get the pleasure of seeing it for themselves. Then they leave you a mess that you have to sort out for yourself. I would never do that to you, Y/N. I would never leave you unsatisfied, I would leave you begging for more- I know it. I would be as gentle or as rough as you'd like, I'd find every sweet spot that made your back arch, taste how sweet you are, I'd know just how long to fuck you before you wanted to stop, I would make sure that you came before I did, I'd fill you perfectly. But maybe you wouldn't want that. Maybe, you'd want to use me- and I'd let you. I'd let you use me however your big heart desired, I'd let you ride me until the sun came up, I'd let you leave marks all over my body and claim me to let everyone know that I'm yours, I would embrace whatever kinks or fantasies you'd be too scared to share with anybody else, Hell- I'd let you tie me up and blindfold me if it meant I could feel you cum around my cock.

And maybe it's not even the sex that would make you satisfied. Maybe it would be the way I treated you. I would value you more than anything, I already do, I would make sure you fed yourself properly, I would kiss you goodnight and make sure the thermostat was on the perfect temperature. I would go with you to the stores, help you cook dinner, schedule your doctor's appointments for you. I'd make sure your coffee had the perfect amount of sugar in it, I'd always let you choose where we ate if we chose to go out, I'd let you show me off to all of your friends- treat me how all of those other men treat you. When it comes to you, Y/N, it doesn't matter what I want. It's all about you. It's been all about you since the first time I saw you.

The only flaw I can seem to find is the men you choose, but you're too sweet to turn them down- maybe, it isn't your fault. Maybe you don't actually like them. Maybe you see one good quality in them and try your best to focus on it, maybe you hope that they can bend and shape into what you want them to be. If only you knew how willing I would be to change for you. And don't get me wrong, I have problems too, Y/N. I can't seem to talk to you. I can't even get you to notice me. At first, I tried almost every day. I'd get to your doorstep and my hand would raise itself to knock, but then I would get scared. I didn't think it through properly and even when I did- I still couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't just show up at your door like that, I had to make sure when we met again that it would be perfect. But the time never came and it never felt right. That and, the more time went on the more my anxieties rose, and that caused problems within itself. What if I wasn't your type? What if you didn't like my jokes or the way I laughed? What if you thought I was too tall or I didn't have enough muscles? But the truth is if I didn't get the courage to actually talk to you- I wouldn't ever get the answers to those questions.

So I watched. Waited for the perfect time that never seem to come. You were laughing at that asshole's jokes like he was some sort of comedian. He wasn't. He was just some low life from Lawrence, Kansas, he wasn't good enough for you. Dean Winchester, he happened to be the most mysterious one yet. It was hard for me to find information about him, but not impossible. His father was a drunk, meaning he still had some emotional trauma- he could easily hurt you. He drove a beat-up Chevrolet Impala that screamed I'm a dick, but you found it fascinating. You don't even know anything about cars, why did you lie to him? He's been on national headlines more than once, sometimes even for murder, but those cases mysteriously went away. You wouldn't know any of this. You don't do your research. You should know who you're really with. But, luckily, you have me. I'll do all the nitty-gritty dirty work just for you. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you, I'll make sure you're safe.

The end of the night was imminent as you stood up from your table. Dean stood up with you, leaving his chair untucked while you tucked yours under the table. Classic dick move. He gave you a cocky smirk, placing his hand out for you to take- and you did. You followed him into the parking lot and got in his car. I love you, but sometimes I wish you knew better. I started my own car's engine, opting to leave the lights off, as I trailed a few cars behind you. He was a reckless driver, swerving like a drunk and causing chaos, but I bet you found it funny. I bet you found him wild and daring, maybe that's your type. I could easily be that.

I was beginning to lose you, I didn't want to get a ticket for speeding and having my headlights off, but the streets looked more and more familiar. He was taking you to your house. It hurt my heart how sporadically you allowed random men into your house, but I got my kicks with everlasting memories from those nights- the thought was almost enough to give me an erection. He didn't know the backroads to your house, but I did. I beat you, parking across the street and turning my car off- hopefully, you thought I lived there by now. Then I heard the low rumble of his shitty car pulling up to your house and then you kissed him in the front seat. Were you really going to take him right there? Nope. He opened his door, awkwardly shuffling to reach yours before you could do it yourself, and then he opened your car door- the only gentlemanly thing he's done all night. You thanked him, patting down your jeans as if they were dirty. You shyly swiped your hair behind your ear, you were nervous. Why were you nervous? This was a weekly thing for you. Did you realize how bad of a guy he was?

I quickly put my beanie on, hoping that I would be less noticeable- but I'm a giant, hopefully, you're too tipsy to notice me. I had to be on my guard if you were nervous, so I stepped out of my car. I walked around the back, making sure I had my knife in my pocket and tried to watch you as inconspicuously as possible. You led him up the front porch, turning around before you reached the door. You gave him a warm smile and he placed a hand on the wood just above your head. His head lowered, placing a kiss on your lips so harshly that you fell back into the door. I got worried about him hurting you, but then you placed a hand on his chest. You pushed against him, lightly, knowing you- you probably didn't want to let him down. You shook your head and his head lowered again, forcing himself onto you as you squirmed underneath him.

This is why I'm here for you. This is why I'll always protect you, even if you don't know I'm doing it. My fight or flight mode activated and I pretended to walk down the street. I tried my best not to look as he shook the locked doorknob with his hand, trying to force himself in. I knew he wasn't good for you, Y/N. You're lucky that I'm here to save you. I reached the bottom of your steps, still on the public sidewalk, and pretended to notice what was happening. I could hear you whimpering, suffocated by his kiss. He was disgusting.

"Hey, man. I think she said stop," I yelled at him, but he didn't stop. I frowned, looking at how he was attacking you with his mouth. Cautiously, I took three steps up- so close to you and him. "Back off," I said, reaching the top step and yanked his shoulder.

He turned around, chest puffed but he was small compared to me. Your eyes widened, your lips a beautiful color of rose, and I barely heard him talking to me as I looked at you. So close I could almost taste you. "Mind your fucking business," He said, pushing at my shoulders and snapping me out of my trance- God, you are so powerful.

"Are you okay?" I asked you, ignoring his small hands that were just pushing against my frame. Your eyes stayed widened as you nodded your head up and down, but I knew better. He was going to hurt you, you were not okay.

"She's fucking fine, man. Get the fuck out of here," He grit through white teeth- almost as white as mine.

I tilted my head towards him and he raised his eyebrows at me, then the anger took over. I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to- and I didn't. My hand came up from lying lazily by my side and my fist collided with his cheek. I heard you gasp at the same time as the collision, it felt so good to hear you after all this time. He stumbled back, ready to full-on fight me, but you stepped in between us. You are so strong. He almost hit you, but he stopped himself just in time. He's lucky, if he would have laid his hands on you like that- he was going to be a dead man. Your hands smoothed down his chest, trying to calm him down. Why were you helping him? Your heart is just too big. Then, you turned around and faced me. You were breathtaking, even more so this close. I hadn't been this close to you since the coffee shop way back when. Your lips were perfectly plump and your eyes twinkled in the dim porch lighting. You were made for me.

"What's your name?" You asked me, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. Your eyes stayed wide and I fell in love with them on the spot.

"I- I'm Sam," I told you, stuttering just like I thought I would when I finally introduced myself to you, and you nodded your head cautiously.

"Well, Sam," You said and it was hard to pay attention to the rest of your sentence. My name sounded heavenly rolling off your tongue. "We are just, um, we're role-playing." You told me with question in your voice. I watched your throat as you swallowed anxiously. Huh, should have known you had those kinds of fantasies. "Right, Dean?" You asked, turning towards him and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" He asked in return, rubbing at the fresh fist mark on his face. "You know what? I've had a lovely night. Thank you, sweetheart, but I ought to get going." He gave you a fake smile, patting your shoulder in a friendly way, and shoving his way past me down the steps. I watched him as he got in his car and quickly drove away, then I turned to look at you. You were still nervous. He was gone, hopefully, you'd feel safe now.

"Thank you," You muttered quietly, giving me a soft smile. Your cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of crimson and I smiled back at you.

"I can stay around. You know, make sure he's gone for sure," I told you and you immediately shook your head 'no'. Oh, Y/N, I'm not the bad guy. Stop looking at me like you're so scared.

"I'm okay. Thank you anyways," You told me, reaching into your pocket and digging out your house key. Your eyes strayed away from mine, even before you turned around to unlock the front door.

"I, uh, I really don't mind. I just want to make sure you're safe," I pressed on as you unlocked the door. You didn't open it though, you turned around to look at me.

"Sam, really. I'm okay. You can go home now." You said with haste in your tone. I tilted my head and furrowed my eyebrows, what was so important that you couldn't talk to me for a few minutes? You turned around, opening your front door, and let yourself inside. You were getting away.

"Y/N, really, I can make sure he doesn't come back," I said, now haste was in my tone, as I stopped you from closing the door on me.

You pushed against my hand before you stopped, realizing that I was much stronger than you. It wasn't meant to scare you, but you looked like you had just seen a ghost. Your face grew pale as you looked at me, tears welling in your eyes as they stared into mine. Why were you so upset? Maybe you didn't find me attractive- I really hope that wasn't the case. I pushed the door open lightly and you stood there in all your glory, but you fiddled with your fingers nervously. I watched as the tears ran down your cheeks, wondering what the hell happened to you that made you so upset. But I was here to help. Like I said earlier, I'm always going to be here to help you. I slowly stepped into your house to show you that I'm not a threat and wrapped my arms around you. I felt you tremble in my grip and you didn't hug me back. Was I making you upset? I hadn't done anything to you, maybe it was Dean. Maybe you lied to me so that I didn't know what he was about to do to you. You can trust me, I hope you know that.

"Please, stop," You whimpered in a small voice and I pulled back immediately, your wish is my command Y/N. My hands smoothed down your arms, holding your hands as I looked down at you to see what was wrong. You jerked your hands out of mine and took a step back. I took a step forward. I had to make sure you were okay. "I need you to leave, please." You told me, sniffling your way through the sentence. I don't understand. I just saved you and you want me to leave? You took another step back and I took another one forward. "Please, Sam. You're scaring me." You told me, so vulnerable and honest, but you still used the word please.

"I'm sorry. I just- I needed to know you were going to be okay," I admitted to you, hoping that you would calm down- but you didn't. You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, almost hard enough to draw blood. Did I do something wrong? Why were you being like this? "Why are you still scared?" I asked you, brushing the hair out of your face and you winced.

"I- I don't know," You told me, grabbing my hand lightly and pushing it down my side. You were so warm, I can't want to feel you everywhere. But I couldn't get past your last comment. You were lying. Why would you lie to me?

"Why are you lying?" I asked you and you shook your head in defiance.

"I- I'm not. I promise," You replied, your shaking breath told me otherwise.

"Y/N, you don't have to be scared of me," I said, realizing exactly where I fucked up. Your name. You never told me it and here I was acting like I knew you, I was getting ahead of myself. "I, uh, you're my neighbor. That's how I know your name." I tried to cover myself, chuckling nervously, but you shook your head again. Shit, I really fucked up.

"No, you're not," You told me, your voice almost cracking as fresh tears continued to spill down your face.

"Okay, but my grandparents-" I began to reexplain myself.

"No, they don't," You cut me off and I tilted my head at you, how would you know? "I- I know you've been following me." You bit your lip and my heart dropped into my stomach. Fuck, maybe you do pay attention to your surroundings.

"I can explain-" I told you, but you made a run for it. Your feet took you surprisingly fast up the stairs and I felt my heart beat out of my chest. I didn't know what else to do, you were going to call the cops on me- get me arrested, I couldn't let that happen. I ran after you, but you reached your bedroom door and slammed it in my face. I shook the door handle, knowing it was most likely already locked, and began to curse at myself. "Please, Y/N! Just let me in, I promise I can explain everything to you!" I yelled, desperately shaking the door as I heard you sobbing on the other side.

"Sam, just go. I- I won't call the cops if you leave. I promise, Sam. I promise." You told me in between choked sobs and my heart broke for you.

This was not how I imagined meeting you again would go. As much as you sounded like you believed the words coming out of your mouth, I couldn't take that chance. I didn't have any other plan but to speak to you and I was not going to go to jail for wanting to have a conversation. I dug in my pocket for my lock-pick, which I always kept in case someone was hurting you or you were in trouble. Little did I know I would be using it to let myself in your room. I wasn't really sure how to use it, so I fiddled it around a bit- knowing you could hear my desperation. Then the lock clicked and I silently applauded myself, opening the door to see you sitting on your window ledge. You looked back at me as I ran towards you and you jumped. You're lucky my long legs reached you before you fell and hurt yourself. I pulled you up, collapsing backward as I held you in my arms. You were silently crying, not bothering to break away from my grip and it felt good to feel your heart beating against my chest. It wasn't exactly ideal, but it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. You were perfect no matter how much you feared me.

"It's okay, Y/N. I just want to talk," I said in a quiet voice, stroking your wet hair strands out of your face. You shivered in my grip, turning your head away from my hand and I frowned. Why are you so difficult? Why can't you just let me love you?

"Are you going to hurt me?" You asked in a soft tone, still looking forward like you didn't want to look at me.

"No, of course not. Why would I hurt you?" I asked in return and you didn't reply for a good ten seconds.

"I'm sorry," You told me and I almost let myself fall for it. You attacked too quickly, shoving your elbow into my ribs as you scrambled to get up. You began to run towards the door, but I grabbed your ankle and you fell on the floor. It didn't have to be this way, Y/N, you just had to make it painful. "Please, Sam," You choked out as I sat on my knees, pulling you closer to me by your ankle. You turned yourself around, propping yourself on your elbows, and looked at me with glossy eyes. I used your thighs to pull you closer to my lap, letting them linger there when I got you where I wanted you. "Sam, let's just- let's talk, okay?" You asked me frantically and I didn't understand why your tone changed so drastically until I looked down.

"Oh, sorry," I told you as I realized how uncomfortable it might be for you to be so intimately close with me. You pulled your thighs off of mine and sat across from me, holding onto your knees for dear life. "Just promise you won't run from me, okay?" I asked you and you nodded your head slowly. Finally, now we can actually talk. "I- I have had a, um, a liking for you for-"

"Six months," You muttered, burying your head in your knees. Were you really that smart or was I really that dumb? Why didn't you do anything?

"You knew?" I asked in confusion and you nodded your head. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did. They didn't believe me," You sniffled and I frowned. It made me upset that you went to the police before you decided to have a conversation with me. I hadn't even done anything to you and you tried to get me put in jail?

"You what?" I seethed through my teeth, feeling my blood boil. I didn't mean to get angry with you, but everything was falling apart too quick and it was the only way I could tell you I was upset. Your body shivered with my sharp words, but you didn't say anything. "Y/N, tell me exactly what you told the police," I told you, starting to panic. What if you told Dean and Dean was on his way to the station now? I needed to know. I reached across, meaning to be light-handed but it didn't exactly work out that way as I shook your arms so that you would look at me. "Tell me."

"I just- I was scared," You told me, finally looking up and showing me the fear I unintentionally instilled in you. "I didn't tell them anything, I just told them I was scared." You trembled, sounding like you were telling the truth for a change. Maybe you were just saying that so I would leave you alone. Not going to happen. You betrayed me. But still, I never meant to hurt you, that was my fault. We all have our faults, Y/N, and mine is growing in my boxers because of how close we are. You drive me crazy.

"It's okay, Y/N. It's going to be okay," I told you, pushing your hair behind your back and you stayed still. My thumbs wiped the tears off of your cheeks, only for your eyes to produce more. You're so sad, but you're still just as beautiful as ever. I couldn't help myself, holding your face in my hands brought an excitement in me that I couldn't contain as I smashed my lips onto yours. To my surprise, you didn't move. You didn't pull back or fight me, you just sat there and let me kiss you. Your lips were so soft, I just wished they kissed me back. "Just let me make you feel better."

"Please, Sam I-" You began to say, but I put my index finger over your lips. You were going to say everything I didn't hear and I want for the both of us to enjoy this as much as possible.

"It's okay, Y/N. You don't have to do anything, just let me love you." I told you, not waiting for your reply as I pressed my lips onto yours. Your mouth parted slowly, I suspect to protest, but it gave me the perfect access to shove my tongue inside of you. You tasted like sweet wine and chapstick as I explored every inch of your mouth, you were so much warmer than I expected. You didn't move your lips but that's okay, I'll do all the work for you. My hands travel from your cheeks and down to your neck, pulling you in closer to me. You were already close, but I couldn't help but feel like I needed you closer.

You whimpered into my mouth but I pretended that it was a moan as I trailed my lips down your cheek. They reached your neck, sucking in hard enough to leave a mark but not hard enough to hurt you, and I couldn't help but imagine- if your neck tasted this good, then how would your pussy taste? My erection was growing stronger, itching to get out of its confines as I continued to kiss your neck. I heard you choke yet again another sob, but I knew you wanted me- or else you wouldn't let me do this to you. You let me pull you closer, straddling your hips around my waist as I became drunk on the kisses that I was giving you. Your legs tightened around my waist and your arms lazily landed around my shoulders- surely you wouldn't do that if you didn't want me.

It gave me even more confidence, my hands reached up to cup your perfect breasts through your simple blue shirt. You always looked good in blue. Your breasts were the perfect handful for me, soft and warm skin that I couldn't wait to suck on. I couldn't help but groan into your neck as I imagined all of the things that I wanted to do to you. But, as I was kissing you, you pushed on my chest. You were light-handed, almost like you didn't want to hurt me, and you looked into my eyes.

"I thought you just wanted to talk," You said, lowering your head to look down at the predicament you got yourself in. My hands supported your lower back, making sure that you didn't fall backward and hurt yourself. It felt so good to have you this close to me, and maybe you knew I had been watching you, but you probably didn't know how much I dreamt this day would come. "Sam, are you listening?" You asked me and I realized that I wasn't. I was too busy looking at your body on top of mine, relishing the weight I felt as you sat on top of me, but maybe you know just what I like. Maybe you know I love it when you say my name, you seem to say it a lot.

"What's wrong?" I asked you as I continued to watch the tears stream down your face, but you shook your head as if nothing was wrong.

"I'm not sober. Don't you want me when I'm sober?" You asked me and I almost took a few seconds to think about it- but then I realized that you just didn't want to be with me. I worked too damn hard for too damn long for you to slip away from me, we're so close, you should just enjoy the time we have together.

"You only had two glasses of wine, Y/N," I told you, and you bit your bottom lip, knowing that I was right- you were definitely sober. I almost got angry again, it upsets me deeply when you lie to me, but then I looked at your lip. I always loved it when you would bite your lip, you're lucky you're so beautiful, or else I would be very unhappy that you weren't telling the truth. "What's wrong?" I asked again, why was I not good enough for you?

"Sam, I'm sure you're a great guy..." Here comes the 'but', "...but maybe I'm not the right girl for you. You deserve someone who loves you just the same, and I'm sorry, I just don't." You told me, trying your best to let me down easy. I'll admit, it hurt to hear those words come out of your mouth, it hurt to hear things that I didn't want to hear. Here comes my 'but'... but I still love you no matter what. I just wish I never gave you the opportunity to speak up in the first place. I won't make that mistake again.

"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N, but you know I can't just leave. You know how long I've been waiting to have you all to myself," I told you honestly, hoping that you would understand where I was coming from. You nodded your head, fresh tears spilling down your rosy cheeks, and I gave you a soft smile. I knew you didn't want this, Hell, I didn't want this- I never wanted it to be so one-sided, but I tried my best to get past that. You being so compliant just shows me how much you were made for me. You couldn't even let me down even after knowing that I've been watching you for quite some time. You're so sweet that it makes the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. "I want you to enjoy this too." I told you and you stayed silent, which is fine- I am going to lose it if you tell me that you don't want me again. "Can you walk over to your bed with me?" I asked and it took you a few seconds before you nodded your head.

I helped you stand up, holding tightly onto your hand to make sure you didn't escape- but not tight enough to the point where you might think it was to hurt you. You faced me at the edge of your beautifully made bed, another thing I loved about you was how nice you kept your room, and you looked up to me for instruction. Your eyes are wide and glossy, but they're not spilling tears anymore. I hope it's because you want this and not because your tear well is empty, but it doesn't really matter to me anymore because I am finally going to have you. I dipped down to kiss your cheek and you didn't even flinch, maybe I'm growing on you. My hands landed tightly on your waist, picking you up and setting you on the bed. Now you're eye level with me and I take this perfect opportunity to kiss you again. My fingers travel up your body and lock themselves into your hair, pulling your face closer to mine and I wrap my lips onto yours. Just as soft, a little less salty as earlier, and becoming plumper as I suck on them.

You surprise me when your hands land on my waist and it sends a jolt of electricity through my body before I realize you're trying to push me away. It's okay, Y/N, I'll push through to you. I grab your wrists, I'll admit a little too harshly for my liking, and push them to your sides while I continue to devour your lips. I push my hips closer to yours, pressing against your clothed core, and you whimper into my mouth. You sound just as divine as I thought you would. I pull at the bottom of your shirt and naturally you fight me, but sooner or later you will realize that I will get what I want. Lifting your shirt above your head, I try my best not to look up at your face because I don't want to see the hurt in your eyes. I'm not hurting you. I'm making you feel better. I am making up for all of those shitty guys who could never satisfy you the way that you deserve to be satisfied.

Your shirt hits the floor and my mouth waters at the sight of your slightly clothed chest. I reach around your back to unclasp the simple black bra that you always wear on the nights that you take men home, I wonder why you fought Dean tonight- but I push that to the back of my mind as the fabric falls down your arms and reveals your perfect breasts. You're sobbing again, I can hear it, but all my mind can focus on is the fact that- right here, right now, you are all mine and nobody can take that away from me, not even you. I tried to be nice, I tried the talking thing, you cried and cried, but then I realized that you'd never give yourself to me like that. I'm not your usual guy, I don't go to bars or try to charm you by getting you drunk, I don't try to charm you by talking about myself- I've barely even talked to you at all, maybe I'm not your type. That's okay, it's just one night, Y/N. You owe me that much.

My hands find your breasts, cupping them until I feel your nipples harden against my palms. They're almost rock solid when I go to pinch them and the surrounding skin is prickled with goosebumps, I can feel myself growing harder in my jeans.

"Wait, Sam," You told me just before I lowered my face into your chest. I pulled back to look at you and you bit your lip again- it's like you know exactly how to get me going. "You've been watching me for a long time now, right?" You asked me, nervousness in your shaking breath. I nodded my head, hoping that you were becoming more willing to share yourself with me- it is definitely the best way to have you, but not my only choice if I had to. "So, you know I use condoms, then. I, uh, I don't like birth control because it-"

"Because it makes you cry too much," I cut you off before you can fully explain it. You frown at me and I tilt my head in return, I was just saving you time because I knew it would have taken you a while to explain.

"Sam, you're a freak, I hope you know that," You mutter under your breath and it's almost enough to make me knock you out, but I'll give you another try. I'm not a freak... I just love you a little more than I should. "Condoms are in-"

"Bottom drawer, left side," I finish your sentence, see how well I know you? Don't you see how much I care for you? You nod your head and you get goosebumps all over your body again, your nipples like delicate flowers blooming in the springtime.

All right, we're definitely getting somewhere. By you telling me this- caring about how I take you, shows me that maybe just maybe you want me too. I leave you there, trusting you not to run anymore, and I make my way to your nightstand. The bottom drawer encases well over a hundred rubbers, all different sizes, even different flavors which is interesting because you don't let them in your mouth. I pick a random one up, hoping that maybe it will fit, but then again I don't really care. You're lying back on the bed, arms covering your chest, and looking back at me. You are so effortlessly beautiful, so pretty when you're not trying to fight me off. I walk back to the edge of the bed and you don't pick your head up to look at me, but it's okay. I'll take what I can get- at least you're not crying anymore.

I climb on, the weight of my body into the soft mattress making you fall a little bit closer to me. It's like you knew I was going to move your arms as you lay them at your side, fully exposing your bare chest to me. I give you a small smile and you roll your eyes at me in return, you're lucky I find it cute when you do that. As much as I want to stare at you like this for eternity, the twitching member in my pants tells me that I should get you even more undressed. You lay there, almost lifeless, as I thumb your jeans open. I undo the zipper, taking my time with it as I hook my fingers into the waistband. You don't help me or lift your hips when I start to pull down, which is fine, you're perfect just the way you are. Then, your jeans hit the floor and your panties are the only thing in the way from me seeing all of you. You look beautiful like this and I waste no time taking my own shirt off.

When I turn around to throw my shirt on the ground I feel your hands on my stomach. They're small and warm as they smooth along the dips of my muscles and I turn back to look at you. My eyebrows furrow in confusion and when you smile at me all of my concerns melt away. You move around, which makes my heart beat out of my chest, and you end up on your knees in front of me. For a change of pace, I don't know what to do when your hands pull my head closer to you and you place your lips on mine. When I kiss you back and rest my hands on the sides of your neck, your fingers leave my hair and land comfortably on my sides. It feels so good to have you kiss me back, you're nipping at my bottom lip with your teeth and swirling your tongue inside of me. Months I waited for this to happen and it's even more surreal than I thought it would be. You know what you're doing and it's evident by the way you lead my lips back and forth with your own. I knew you were perfect when I chose you. Then you pull back and my lips chase yours.

"Am I the freak now?" You ask me, your eyes soft. I shake my head 'no' and I feel your delicate fingers trail down my v-line to the top of my jeans. I look down as they unsecured the button, blinking a few times to make sure I wasn't having a hallucination, and I hear you giggle softly. "Why didn't you just ask for my number, Sam? I mean, I'm flattered, really- I just wish it didn't happen like this." You told me and I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out, and you continued to talk for me. "You're handsome, you're tall, you seem like you have a lot of problems. If you really knew me then you would realize that you're my exact type. Why didn't you just talk to me?" You asked, looking into my eyes as you roughly pushed my jeans down. I was stunned, was this real life? You were just crying, refusing to kiss me back, and now you're trying to tell me that I should have asked for your number? "I'm assuming you're the reason that the creepy cashier ended up on the five o'clock news? He was beaten up pretty badly, Sam. You didn't have to do that for me." You told me and I still couldn't find the right words, that was months ago. He was going to hurt you, I heard him talk about it with his friends, I saved you. But you knew it was me? I should be the one asking why you didn't come up to me when you figured that one out, why you didn't thank me as soon as it happened. "Would that have happened to me too?"

"No, of course not. I'd never hurt you, Y/N," I told you, cupping your cheek and you rolled your eyes again, swatting my hand away.

"You didn't think that raping me would be painful? Or leave me scarred for life?" You scoffed and I shook my head in protest.

"No, I didn't want to hurt you like that, but you kept fighting, and- No, I'm not like that," I sighed, trying my best to come up with a reasonable explanation for you.

"But, you are like that, Sam," You counteracted me and I frowned. I was hoping you'd never see me that way, all I wanted was to show you how much I loved you.

"But, I didn't have to be that way. I mean, look at where we are-" I began to reexplain myself again, but you shook your head immediately.

"Don't you dare act like I asked for this. Don't do it. I'm making this better for me, not for you." You cut me off and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. Is that really the way you see me? Is that the only reason you kissed me back and pushed my jeans down my thighs? "Don't look so sad. Take what you want and go." You told me, bitterness in your voice as you shoved your hand in my boxers. I couldn't help but let out a throaty groan when your soft hand wrapped around me, pumping me even though I was already fully hard for you. You never did this with anyone else, though. You always let them prepare themselves, I couldn't help but feel like I was special. I kissed you hard as you continued to twist me in all directions, masking my moans in your mouth as I could already feel myself getting close- but I wasn't going to cum, not yet. This was all about you.

I pushed you back lightly, following you with my mouth as your back hit the soft mattress. Your hand worked wonders as my lips trailed down your neck, sucking in your wonderful scent and even tasting the bitterness of your perfume. My hand reached your wrist, pulling you out of my boxers, and I rested it by your side. I kicked my jeans down my legs and onto the floor as I climbed off the bed. Pulling you by your thighs, I heard you gasp as I dragged you down to the edge of the bed. My hands worked hastily, guiding your black panties down your legs in one swift move and purposefully throwing them on top of my jeans- so I could keep them for memory's sake.

Then I looked back down at your naked body, your slick glistening in the dim lighting as I licked my lips. You were perfectly wet for me and I couldn't wait any longer to dive into your heat. My knees hit the carpet as I wrapped my hands around your thighs, holding you down and placing my tongue on you. Your back arched, your hands found their place in my hair, and small moans left your mouth as I drank all of the sweetness from your body. You tasted so much better than I could ever have imagined and your whimpers sounded heavenly, especially after knowing that I was causing them. Your clit was easy to find and I wrapped my lips around it, causing you to lift your thighs but I held them down for easier access. The sounds coming from your mouth combined with the noises coming from latching onto you was a deadly combination and motivated me even further to continue to try and burst the coil that I knew was growing in your stomach.

In all of my time watching those men take you, very few had the pleasure of tasting you- and when they did, they would go on for a minute or so before becoming selfish and getting ahead of themselves. Sex isn't a one-sided thing and I understand that, I want you to feel just as good as I will later on. I won't leave until I rip an orgasm from your body and I know you're getting close. I'm alternating from sucking and kitten licks on your sensitive sweet spot and you have yet to cease from moaning underneath me. Your moans are almost enough to make me come undone inside of my boxers, you sound so perfect. But maybe they just aren't as good as I am. Maybe I only need a minute to have you cumming in my mouth because your hands in my hair are gripping tighter, your thighs are getting harder to hold down, and you're screaming yes. You taste sweeter and more natural than honey and my mouth is making obscene noises as I try my best to coerce your first orgasm. I let go of your thighs, opting to hold onto your hips, and they wrap around my head. Your legs push me deeper into your core and it's getting harder to breathe but I don't care. My nose is just above your heat, my chin is deliciously soaked in you, and your legs are starting to shake against my ears.

Soon enough, you're screaming profanities and coming undone under my influence, but I won't stop until I work you through it. Your breathing is unsteady as you spill fresh juices onto my tongue and your hands attempt to push me away. Lapping up all of your climax and letting my taste buds soak in how good you taste, you begin to whine uncomfortably. I figure it's time to stop, so I flatten my tongue and start at your core- leading up until I feel you shudder underneath me when I hit your bundle of nerves. Your legs relax as I pull my face up, wiping my chin off on my forearm, and I smile- knowing that I'm going to smell like you by the time I leave.

"See, this isn't all about me, Y/N," I smirk, a little cockier than usual, and you give me a small and out-of-breath smile. "When was the last time you came because of a guy?" I asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

"I- um, maybe a few months ago," You said breathlessly, your smile never fading from your lips.

"Four months ago. An asshole named Rich, but it was only because you were watching a sex scene on your TV, wasn't it?" I asked you, hovering over you and placing a kiss on your lips. You didn't care that you had just came in my mouth nor that I answered your question better than you did, you kissed me back hungrily and wrapped your hands around my neck. You even trailed my lips as I lifted up, whining when they disconnected, and I knew there was no way you didn't want me. You could put on a front and say that you didn't ask for it, and I might have believed you, but, ultimately, I would have known you were lying.

Your hands pushed against my chest and I stumbled a few feet back. I looked at you in confusion and you gave me an innocent smile as you climbed off of the bed. "You know I don't do this, right?" You asked, lowering onto your knees at my feet. I couldn't help but feel nervous when your hand wrapped around me, I've never seen you do this with anyone before. "Hm?" You asked again and I felt my breath hitch in my throat as you stroked my cock in your hands.

"I- I know," I told you, gulping eagerly, and watching as you wrapped your lips around me. A guttural moan escaped my throat at the sensation of your warm tongue circling around my tip, sucking lightly, and collecting all of the precum I produced just for you. I don't know what changed or made you decide to do this, but I didn't mind. I didn't even think about the possibility of feeling your lips wrapped around me- I never saw you do it with anyone else and I didn't get my hopes up. So, now, I'm here and you're sucking me down and I feel completely ill-prepared. It almost made me feel pathetic when I felt my climax bubbling too quickly and you had only been working me for thirty seconds, but with another fifteen I would be spilling into your mouth- I couldn't let that happen.

My hands entangled in your hair and pulled you off, your lips making a loud pop as they disconnect from my length. You gave me a shit-eating grin when I helped you stand up, knowing exactly how good you were. Maybe you never sucked their dicks because you didn't want them to cum before they got the chance to please you.

"You know what you didn't learn about me, Sammy?" You asked in a tone so close to a whisper as you grabbed me in your hand again. You gave me a nickname, don't think I take that lightly. My eyes looked down and back up into yours- which seemed so innocent and young it was hard to believe that your body count was so high. "I don't cum because they're not rough enough." You told me, hinting at your devious fantasies, making my urge to fuck your brains out ten times stronger. "Are you going to be able to help me with that or are you too eager already?" You asked with a cocky smirk, twisting your hand around me faster. The best part was knowing that you were taunting me on purpose- you wanted all of the power, you didn't want me to get the chance because you know the effects that you have on me. You wanted for me to cum in your hand, show you that I'm just like the rest of them. I know you, Y/N, and I'm not going to let you down no matter how low you think of me.

My head dipped down, ghosting your lips and taunting you like you were taunting me before I grabbed your arms and spun you around. You squealed when I pressed a firm hand on your back, keeping you down as I got prepared to make you wish you didn't ask for it rough. Then, I gave you no warning as I guided myself to your entrance, slamming myself fully into you.

"You forgot the condom," You whined as my legs hit the back of your thighs. If I ever wanted a chance to do this again, I knew I had to listen to you, so I pulled out. Reaching over you, I grabbed the foil on your bed and quickly ripped into the package. My big ass fingers had a hard time unrolling the lubricated rubber and putting it around my painfully hard cock. Just before I put it all the way on, I made sure to clip the end with my fingernails- leaving a small hole that you wouldn't be able to see me make anyways. "Thank you." You told me and I smiled, knowing you wouldn't be able to tell a difference anyway. If this one time happened to get you pregnant, it would be a blessing- there'd be no way for you to escape me.

Then, I decided to try again. I held myself in my hand, not particularly fond of the residue the condom left and nudged the tip of my cock at your entrance. I grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back on to me, only to slam into you which pushed you forward. You were so much tighter than I expected, so much warmer around me, and you sounded so good when you gasped. I took no time waiting to pull out and slam back into you again, the noise of the bed creaking mixing perfectly with your loud whimpers. Your cunt squeezed around my cock as I quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you at. I would be fully inside of you for less than a second before I would pull out and do it all again. One hand stayed on your hip while the other grabbed the back of your head, pulling your chest off of the bed and making your back arch. This position felt so much better and I knew that the new angle was sure to make the tip of my cock hit your g-spot with every thrust by the way you were moaning. You were whispering fuck under your breath every time my hips hit your ass, gripping the soft comforter under you for support.

I fucked into you fast and hard, just like you said you liked, and I silently thanked myself for jogging every day. My stamina was unmatched and I was able to keep the pace that had you screaming for more. I was surprised with myself for not cumming the second I entered you, but I needed for you to cum again before I did. The hand that rested on your hip moved to your clit, making your legs shake underneath me. You were close, you were screaming that you were close, and it all sounded like music to my ears. Your cunt dangerously clenched around me every time I pulled out like you were trying to milk me, but I knew it wasn't on purpose. I knew you were clenching around me because your climax was coming much faster than you could have imagined, it was just your body naturally responding to mine and I knew, now more than ever, that God made you for me.

Your palms grasped onto the blanket, making your knuckles turn white, as your body jolted forward with every thrust. "Fuck, Sam!" You screamed and I bent over to kiss at your neck, humming into you as I tried not to cum at the sound of my name leaving your lips. Your hand came down, pushing my fingers harder onto your clit and you moaned loudly as you came undone for the second time. Your legs were shaking erratically as you pulled my hand away from your core, squeezing my fingers tightly as you practically cried around me. You were holding my hand and it was sweaty, but it felt so good to hold you like this. I kept the pace up, fucking you hard throughout the entirety of your orgasm, using your sweet cries as inspiration for my own that was coming sooner than later. Pulling my lips away from your neck, I let go of your hair and grasped onto your hips again. I was grunting, moaning, and groaning as I fucked you faster than before. It wasn't hard to chase my release as your body collapsed onto the bed and I stilled in your cunt, fully inside of you as I felt my climax leave my body. Panting for breath, I stayed inside of you until my orgasm washed over me and I could barely see straight or hear your whimpers.

When I pulled out, I quickly took the condom off and got rid of the evidence, hoping to god that you wouldn't notice that my cum was slowly leaking out of your cunt- hopefully, you'd think it was your own. You rolled onto your back, panting, giving me a tired smile, and cupped your breasts because I assumed it was just comfortable. I hovered over you, placing one last kiss on your lips before I turned around and began to dress myself. Pulling my boxers up, I watched as you propped yourself on your elbows and you frowned at me.

"You're leaving?" You asked me and it made me stop in my tracks, isn't that what you wanted? You never let anyone else stay, even the guy that ended up making you cum, so why were you asking? "You decided you're going to stalk me for six months, give me the best sex of my life, and then leave?" You asked again, light laughter leaving your lips.

"You- you want me to stay?" I asked, uneasiness in my voice, as I prayed that you would say yes.

"If you promise not to murder me in my sleep, I'll even cook you breakfast," You said with a small smile plastered on your face.

#sam winchester #supernatural #fanfic #oneshot #jared padalecki

103 notes · View notes

poptod · 3 years

Note

Hi I hope ur having a great day! I love ur writing so freaking much! This request is a little different than what I’m sure ur used to but hopefully ur comfortable enough with writing it. Could u write a one shot (or headcanons if it’s easier) where Snafu from the Pacific is crushing big time on the reader (like almost in love) and he’s always hitting on her but she never shown any interest toward him. Then a few days in when the nurses come Snafu walks in on the reader making out with one of the nurses. They see each other and he walks out all like CONFUSED and shook and the reader runs after him to swear him to secrecy. He’s still shook and admits his feelings and she comes out as a lesbian to him. He’s even more SHOOK but he’s rly understanding and accepting even tho he’s incredibly heartbroken. Sorry if it’s not what u usually write, as a bi I’m just always a sucker for “I’m dumb she’s a lesbian”

notes: anon i love you you're literally perfect WC: 1.9k

He was used to this sort of behavior when he first met girls – curt and rude, meant to pry his eyes off their figure. Eventually though, after time, he would win their affection through his shining personality (or, at least, that's what he thought happened). Usually it only took about a week or less; he was good at what he did. This was ridiculous, though – he was ranging on the sixth week of knowing you. That's one and a half months, far above his usual score.

But you're beautiful. Even if you won't share a genuine conversation with him, you 'let' him watch you, allowing yourself to become his only source of entertainment on the island. The shine in your hair – always neatly pulled back – is a fantastic distraction from the blisters on his palms and the heat of his sunburnt skin.

You're the last piece of humanity here. It makes sense he would never be able to win you.

Today you're tending to his wounds, an activity he thought he would never love as much as he does. Your fingers are still soft somehow, brushing against the exposed skin of his arms, sliding over the bandages to ensure they won't slip. The concentration evident in your sharp eyes is revealed in the way you bite your lip, gaze never leaving the bloody blisters on his hands.

"Not for nothin' babe, but," he began to speak, voice raspy and dry, "last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid."

You very slowly raise your head, reluctantly meeting his eye with a dead stare.

"Not today, Snafu," you say.

"Tomorrow then?"

You scoff, shake your head, almost laugh, but in the end you say nothing. Instead you return to your work, diligently cleaning the scabs and covering them up. He can't say he minds––whether or not you truly engaged with him, he heard your voice, and felt your touch. That would be enough. For now.

Surprisingly enough, they still get to have movie night sometimes. That doesn't mean the movies are good, but they're generally more entertaining than watching the shore birds. Every now and then, Snafu will even go and join his tent mates, ogling more at the nurses than paying attention to the actual movie. Those are always good nights, and the forest is close enough that it's not a problem if he gets too excited.

Tonight's movie is titled 'Godzilla Goes to College,' and upon hearing the name Snafu knew he would not be able to attend a full hour of it. Instead he wanders around the encampment, watching shadow silhouettes and the movement of the breeze on tent flaps. The sound of shuffling catches his ear, and when he turns, he's pleasantly surprised to find you beside him, drowning in an oversized jacket. He laughs, loud and probably impolite, but the juxtaposition of him being shirtless beside you truly tickles him.

"Evenin', doll," he says through his laughter, stopping you in the middle of the pathway. A soft groan leaves you as you turn to face him.

"And good night," you say in a too-cheery tone, your saccharine smile instantly falling into a dead stare as you go back to walking, a renewed vigor in your step.

"Hey, where y' goin' in such a hurry?" He asks, and begins to trail slowly after you. He allows a decent amount of space to grow between you before he continues with, "stay n' chat a minute, cher!"

You don't even bother to respond once you turn the corner, where Snafu loses his trail on you. He curses to himself, turns back around, and finds several of his mates coming back from the movie rather tipsy. How long have they been there?

"Reeaaaall lucky with the girls, aren't'ya, Snaf?" Burgie asks, and the four of them fall into teasing laughter.

"I'll get her, you'll see," he promises, turning back to see if he can glimpse you between all the tents. "One a' these days, she's mine."

Later that evening he sees you again, through the sheer fabric of your tent, where you've been burning a candle. It casts your shadow clearly against the wall, allowing him to see you perfectly.

Snafu likes to claim he isn't a pervert, but most who know him in any way know that's not really true. Sure, he can be a gentleman, but if no one's looking he doesn't especially care. No one but him will know, not even you. Even if he wasn't a pervert, he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away––you're undressing, peeling the clothes off your skin and he can see the whole of your body. In outline, of course, but there nonetheless.

Fucking creep, he tells himself, calls himself, but he doesn't cease his staring till you've put out your candle. At that point he can no longer see you, and he returns to his own tent with fantasies circling his head like vultures.

It's not that you're particularly rude to him. You just don't engage or indulge any of his bullshit, which is fair enough he thinks. He has a lot of bullshit coming out of his mouth 24/7. Everyone knows that. There's a theory he has, though––a theory he came up with just a little while ago, that you would treat him perfectly normal as long as he didn't come on to you in conversation. If he treated you just like he treated most others, then you might actually be nice to him. You're a good person. You're not going to be needlessly mean.

"Afternoon," he says to you, and he has to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from calling you cher. You quirk one of your brows.

"Afternoon," you repeat back. "Something ailing you?"

"Why'd ya think that?" He asks, slinking into one of the chairs in the aid tent.

"This is a medical tent," you say, and he wants to facepalm himself.

I'm just achin' with love for you, boo, he wants to say, and again, he has to bite his tongue to stop it from coming out. Damn it, he thinks, that's actually a good line.

"So why are you here then?" You ask.

"Better than tryin' ta find somethin' edible in my lunch," he grumbles out, leaning back against the chair and closing his eyes. He lets out a satisfied sigh.

You giggle, you actually laugh from something he did, and say, "understandable. You should still eat, though. Here."

You move from your spot at a nearly-fully stocked tray, instead digging through one of the numerous unlabelled boxes piled like towers in the aid tent. From there you pull out a granola bar, brand name, and throw it at Snafu's face. He nearly falls off balance, but catches it before he loses his cool.

"Thank ya kindly, ma'am," he says with a grin, tipping an imaginary hat your direction. Again you smile; there is nothing better than this, sitting across from you, and being the reason for your happiness.

Eventually he has to leave in order to make room for those who actually do require medical aid, but he leaves singing on a high note. You say good-bye to him this time, for the first time, and a smile tugs at his lips all day. Therein lies the secret to your affection––a blazingly obvious secret that all men should know––that he must treat you as an equal, not size you up to something he can win over, something he can buy with cheap words and undressing eyes.

He thinks it over all day, lets it mull over in his head how he should next approach you. Things get twisted in his mind if he doesn't speak them out loud, and by eveningtime he's convinced that he should meet you tonight, even if it's just him barging into your tent. Politely, of course. A polite barging in.

For a moment he stops, his hand poised above the handle of your tent flap. You're definitely in there––or someone is––as there's shuffling behind the material, a sound he can barely process over the rushing of his heart.

Fuck it, he finally says, and without giving himself a chance to doubt, he pulls open the flap.

You don't even notice him. To be fair, your eyes are closed. And you're a bit preoccupied. Your tongue is pretty far down that nurse's throat.

His mouth falls open as every muscle in his body freezes. It's the other nurse that actually sees him, and she taps you harshly with her wide eyes set on Snafu. You tear yourself away from her touch, turn to the marine, and all the air in the tent goes stagnant.

He leaves. Throws the flap back into place and all but sprints away, wide eyes burning in the cool night air. It's only a second or two of running before he hears the flap open and close again, followed by you yelling something, and ultimately your chasing footsteps.

You end up being surprisingly fast, and you easily catch up to him. Once you do you grab his wrist, tugging him back, and forcing him to face you. Both of your hearts are racing a hundred miles a minute, both of your eyes wide with shock.

"Merriel I am begging you, you cannot tell anyone about this, please, please, you can't, I’ll do anything," you beg him, and it's then he notices there's tears on the edge of your eyes. "Please do this for me, you can't tell anyone. Don't even think about it––just, pretend it never happened?"

He's panting, unable to formulate any response, only able to stare into your panic and sink in the fear pouring out of your desperate eyes.

"(Y/N), I'm––no, I won't," he says at last, and you practically collapse with relief, falling into him with your forehead on his shoulder. He continues in a murmur, awkwardly holding you, "I just... I'm.. I'm in love with you. I––I couldn't do that to you."

"Fuck, I know," you say in a breath, removing yourself to look him in the eye. "But I can't be with you."

You pause, and he waits a moment for you to continue, his brow quirked in curiosity.

"I'm a lesbian, Snafu."

"Oh," he says, but it doesn't process. Not for a minute, anyway. "Oh. Ohh. OHHHH."

"Yeah," you say with a vigorous nod.

"Okay, I thought – I thought I jus’ lost my touch, you're just.. a lesbian, okay," he says, sparking a laugh from you.

"You're not angry?"

"Shit cher, you can't control who you wanna get freaky with jus' as much as I can't," he says, smiling, and the tears in your eyes finally fall. They aren't sad, though––birthed from fear, yes, but falling from happiness.

"You're a lifesaver, Snaf."

As heartbroken as he truly is, none of it really shows in his face. At least now he knows it wasn't really his fault that you didn't show interest in him. Still, disappointment fills up his chest, until you tell him that he makes a good friend. It's then he realizes he can still keep you in his life, a version of modesty and stature and innocence that he can't achieve alone.

He won't ever be able to kiss you, which he does mourn––your lips are painfully soft, and every time he catches sight of them he yearns to press his own against them. Your statement on him works in reverse, though; you're a good friend, and that would be enough for Snafu. But Merriel hides within the bravado, within the suaveness of his voice and actions, and Merriel weeps childish tears that Snafu doesn't know how to wipe away and comfort. Snafu understands the reality of the world, but Merriel will always lament the unfairness of life.

You're the last piece of humanity here. It makes sense Merriel would never be able to win you.

#merriel snafu shelton #snafu x reader #rami malek #the pacific hbo

32 notes · View notes

letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 4 years

Note

hi! I'm loving all of your 911 fanfics. they're the perfect amount of smut lol! I was wondering if you wanted to write a first time bottom!eddie fic??

I don’t think this is going how you think it’s gonna go, nonny, but I hope you like it anyway. XD

There were few things Eddie liked better than pressing his boyfriend against a wall and making out with him.

It was something he couldn’t do too often, seeing as Buck was loud and Christopher was a kid who didn’t know about sex yet but sure as hell wasn’t deaf. Right now, though, Christopher was still at school, they didn’t have to pick him up for an hour, and for once they had a goddamn day off.

“Jesus,” Buck mumbled, biting at Eddie’s lip like it had personally offended him (it probably had at some point, being attached to Eddie’s mouth and all). “Want you to fuck me.”

Eddie worked his hands up underneath Buck’s shirt, scratching lightly and delighting in the full-body shiver that Buck gave in response. They were grinding pretty damn heavily right now, Buck’s legs spread and Eddie more than happily settled between them, and he was tempted to just keep at it right here, kissing Buck, feeling the broad muscle of him, rutting against each other like teenagers until they came.

On the other hand... he did have something he’d been wanting to try. And the up-against-the-wall thing was for when they were trying to be quick and quiet, not for when they actually had time and privacy on their hands.

“Mmm, actually...” Eddie nipped at Buck’s jaw. “Other way around.”

“What?” Buck sounded breathless and Eddie could practically feel the wheels turning in Buck’s head.

“I...” Eddie kissed just under Buck’s jaw. “Want you...” He kissed Buck’s neck. “To...” Buck’s throat. “Fuck me.” Buck’s collarbone.

Buck was panting, straining against his jeans, his hands flexing helplessly around Eddie’s biceps. “Are - fuck are you sure?”

Eddie licked at Buck’s pulse point. “Pretty damn sure. Let’s get you on the bed.”

Buck was like a goddamn puppy tripping over his damn feet hurrying to obey. Eddie rolled his eyes fondly as he followed, undoing his pants and pulling his shirt up over his head as he did so. No matter how many times they did this, he never failed to get a little jolt in his chest at seeing how eager Buck was, how enthusiastic and into this he was - and with Eddie? When Buck could have any damn person he wanted with his giving heart and easy smile?

It didn’t make a lick of sense but Eddie was done looking gift horses in the mouth.

He crawled over Buck, kissing him, and reached around for the lube and condoms. “But - are you sure?” Buck repeated. He was lazily stroking his cock, and he looked so fucking pretty, all flushed and biting his lip like that, and Eddie was really fucking tempted to slide inside him...

But no. Nope, he wanted to try being on the bottom, dammit, and he was determined.

He slung a leg over, straddling Buck, who took the lube from him nervously. “What if I...”

“Oh my God.” The effort it took not to roll his eyes was fucking insane. “Buck. You’re going to be fine. C’mere.”

Buck relaxed the second that Eddie started kissing him. “Unless you want me to do it myself and you can watch...”

Buck groaned, his hand sliding down Eddie’s back, grabbing his ass as if out of instinct. Eddie laughed into the kiss, flicking his tongue over Buck’s lower lip, teasing him. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed, and Eddie spread his legs, taking Buck’s wrist in his hand.

“Start slow.”

“I did sleep with a lot of women before you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Eddie pulled Buck’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on it. “Mmm. But you like being a good boy for me, and I want to take my time.”

Buck made one of those surprised little noises that sounded punched out of him, and Eddie grinned savagely, forcing himself to exhale and relax as he felt Buck’s slicked-up finger sliding inside.

“Good,” Eddie murmured, right up against Buck’s mouth. Buck’s eyes searched his face with this look of awe that Eddie knew for a fact he didn’t deserve, but craved anyway. Sometimes, in his darker moments, he worried it was selfish of him to keep Buck, to keep this man who gave and wanted affection so much and so easily.

Then he saw Buck looking at him like this, kissing him with reverence, following Eddie’s every order, and he knew - whether he deserved Buck or not, Buck wanted him, and that was all that mattered.

Buck curled his finger inside of him and Eddie tightened instinctively, forcing himself to relax a second later. It felt... weird, odd, to have something inside of him there, but it was starting to feel better, starting to feel good.

“I don’t know how you let me do this to you,” Buck murmured. “Fuck, Eddie, you’re - you’re so - fuck.”

He slid his hand around the back of Buck’s head, guiding him, licking into his mouth. “Because you’re good to me. That’s how.” So good. Sometimes, Eddie worried, too good.

Buck groaned and twisted his finger in and out, his hips twitching up even though the only had empty air to find. “Christ. Can I...”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Just the one finger wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted more, wanted a bit of a stretch, wanted to feel satisfied.

Buck slid a second finger in, scissoring them, trying to be fucking courteous and get Eddie prepped, like the sweet stupidly thoughtful person he always claimed he wasn’t.

“I’m not gonna break, Buck.” Eddie tugged at Buck’s lip and shoved back against his fingers. “C’mon. I want to actually feel it tomorrow.”

“Motherfucker.” Buck thrust his fingers in with a little harder, twisting them just so, and Eddie’s body lit up like fuckin’ Christmas.

“Shit.” He ground down on Buck’s fingers. “Again, fuck, do that again.”

Buck grinned, doing exactly as he was told, his gaze darting all over Eddie’s face. Fuck. It felt - yeah, that was why Buck squirmed and whimpered all the time when Eddie was fucking him. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew what the prostate was, but knowing about it (and knowing how to use it to turn Buck into a begging wreck) was different from feeling it. His body felt like it was sparking with electricity.

Buck looked like he was seeing a fucking revelation as he fucked Eddie on his fingers, his mouth open in a half-smile, his face flushed like he was the one getting fucked.

“Add a third,” Eddie ordered. Buck was impatient and so sometimes Eddie only prepped him on two, but Buck was also fucking used to this by now and Buck’s cock was... proportionate to the rest of him. Eddie was not going to end up as one of those embarrassing 9-1-1 calls he’d had to go on in his time just because he was a little too eager.

Buck groaned and kissed him frantically, his free hand gripping Eddie’s hip tight enough to bruise. Eddie kept his hand in Buck’s hair, guiding Buck down to his neck, arching up as Buck sucked what was sure to be a viciously large hickey. Fuck, yes. He rolled his hips, his spine feeling like it was melting, hot and warm and nothing but pleasure.

“You’re doing so well,” he growled, tugging lightly on Buck’s hair. “So good for me, so good.”

Buck whined, high in the back of his throat, and Eddie could feel Buck’s cock jerking against his thigh, Buck’s chest heaving against his. Eddie grinned breathlessly. Didn’t matter what position they were in, Buck was a sucker for praise.

“Can I?” Buck asked, his voice raw and rough. “Please, can I - is it okay, are you - can I--”

“Yeah, yeah you can, you did so well for me.” He pushed Buck back onto the bed and braced himself as Buck rolled the condom on. Hmm.

Eddie batted Buck’s hand away, squeezing the base of his cock, and Buck’s entire body jerked. “Fuck.”

“Can’t have you coming too soon.”

“You’re an asshole, did you know that? You’re a complete--ohJesusmotherfucking--” Buck’s sentence changed course as Eddie sank down onto him.

Fuck, okay, that was a stretch. He could see why Buck liked it, though. That feeling of being filled, stretched, felt good. He didn’t understand why someone would want a cock in them for the entirety of an hour-long nap (and that had been a fun adventure, if you replaced ‘fun’ with ‘heart stopping’ and ‘adventure’ with ‘terror’ because Christopher had come home early while they were still napping in bed) the way certain people, namely the guy currently under him, did, but yeah, it felt pretty fucking good.

Eddie focused on breathing, his gaze going unfocused and then snapping back into focus again as he adjusted and relaxed into it. Buck had done a good job - he didn’t feel worried about it being too much or hurting him - but it was still new, still a bit weird around the edges, and he wasn’t going to risk it.

Buck was practically vibrating beneath him by the time Eddie planted his hands on Buck’s chest and pushed himself up, then slowly lowered himself back down. “Stay,” he ordered, and Buck nodded, even as his gaze zeroed in on the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Eddie’s body.

Shit, yeah, that was really good. Eddie forced himself to keep it slow and not to push himself too far, too fast. Buck whimpered.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Eddie’s face. “Yeah, knew you’d like that.” He pushed himself up until only the head of Buck’s cock was in him, then pushed himself back down.

Buck’s moan bounced off the bedroom walls. His nails dug into Eddie’s thighs, his flush reaching all the way down to his chest. “I wanna... please, Eddie, I want...”

“I know what you want.” Eddie pushed himself up and then lowered himself back down, a little faster this time. Mmm, yeah, the burn was blurring away and it was all turning into one slick glide. “And you’ll get it, but not yet.”

Buck’s head fell back against the pillow and he pouted shamelessly. “Eddie...”

“If you complain, I’ll stay just like this.” He sank all the way down and then stayed there, his thighs burning, and stroked his cock. “Use you just like this, get myself off. And you won’t get to come at all.”

Buck visibly choked. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Buck swallowed. “I’ll be good.”

Eddie pecked him on the lips. “That’s what I thought. You get to fuck me when I’m good and ready for you to.”

Buck’s fingers flexed around his thighs, but he stayed good and still as Eddie used him, tested out slightly different angles, different speeds, pushing himself until his body was buzzing and his head felt like it was floating slightly outside of him somewhere. God, it felt good, felt powerful, being in control like this, deciding on the pace, using Buck for his pleasure.

He could see Buck biting down on his lip, struggling to keep from begging. God, he really was so good for him.

Eddie dragged his nails down Buck’s chest and Buck arched up, gasping, eyes dark and wide. Hottest fuckin’ man in the world. And he was Eddie’s. “Go on then.” He reached up, cupping Buck’s cheek, dragging his thumb across Buck’s plush mouth. “You’ve been good for me, go ahead, fuck me.”

Buck didn’t have to be told twice. He rolled them over, his hands landing with a soft thump on either side of Eddie’s head, and he practically dove into Eddie, his face tucked into the curve of Eddie’s neck, his hips working frantically.

Oh, fuck, yes, fuck, this - this was fucking good, this was - holy fucking shit. Buck had clearly been paying attention to which angles had made Eddie’s body seize up with pleasure and he was replicating those angles now even as he moaned against Eddie’s hot, sweat-slick skin.

Eddie wrapped his arms around him, dragged his palms up and down Buck’s back, soothing him as much as he was holding on. He loved when Buck got like this, desperate and strung-out, chasing his high and all because of Eddie. He only let Eddie bring him to this point, to this brink, and only with Eddie did he let go. It was a rush like none other.

And this angle was fucking perfect, Jesus Christ. Buck couldn’t come just from his prostate, he needed his cock stroked (and oh, what fun Eddie’d had with that knowledge), but Eddie was starting to suspect - holy fuck, yeah he was - fuck, fuck, fuck--

He seized up a final time as his circuits fried, his nails digging into Buck’s skin, his legs jerking like he’d been hit with a live wire.

Okay, yup, definitely able to come untouched, that was a fun new tidbit.

Buck made a noise like he’d been wounded, shaking hard all over, his thrusts turning erratic. Eddie realized he’d clenched around Buck’s cock as he’d come and he did it again. Buck bit down hard on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Eddie started up a rhythm, even as the feeling of Buck inside him started to feel like too much, like overstimulation. “C’mon, come for me, take what you need. Fuckin’ love you like this, come on, show me how much you like it.”

Buck gave a whimper that turned into a long moan, his hips slapping hard against Eddie as his body went stiff and he came.

“Good,” Eddie praised, petting him. “Good, good boy. You did so well.”

Buck managed to roll to the side a little, nuzzling Eddie like an oversized cat. “You feel so good.”

“Glad to hear it. From all that begging I thought you absolutely hated it.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Buck tied off the condom and threw it in the trash, curling right back up against Eddie again. “How much time we got?”

Eddie glanced at the bedside clock. “Another half an hour.”

“Mmm. Nap...” Buck was already half-asleep.

Eddie stroked his fingertips over the curve of Buck’s shoulder. God, Buck was so good, no matter what Eddie wanted or asked of him.

He only hoped he was just as good in return.

#mads answers things #mads writes stuff #buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fox #911 fanfic #I don't know how these feelings snuck in here #but here we are #blame Eddie's low self-esteem

105 notes · View notes