#1 is from Part 1 and the others Part 2. I like the heel click in Part 1 better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grandprixwinnerlandonorris · 6 months

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Friends Don't | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: you go out to celebrate George's home race win, not even imagining what the night will bring

Warnings: smut, drunk driving, unprotected sex

A/N: you will maybe have to necessarily read part 1 and part 2 hehe. For the sake of the plot, we'll pretend some things already happened. I've spent the whole week writing this and only got it to all click together from the third attempt. Third time's a charm, right? But at least had a blast while editing, which is a rarity. I actually enjoy writing these 'chapters' and building this world sm <3

Sundays were a day for rest and relaxation. A day for sitting down with a good book and a cup of coffee. A day for cuddling up with a loved one and watching a movie. A day for taking some time for yourself; a day to reflect and recharge.

That was, of course, unless your best friend was George Russell. And that your Sundays didn't consist of spending most weekends a year at different race tracks around the world. Not all of them, but you tried to be there for him at least once or twice a month, as much as the opportunity allowed.

That afternoon, George took the checkered flag in Silverstone in P1 and now you were in your room, preparing for tonight's celebration. The victory party was going to be wild, and you knew it. You had seen how George celebrated previous wins, and tonight was going to be no different. Especially because it was his home race.

You took a deep breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. You had dressed to impress, wearing a sparkly blue dress that fit you perfectly. Finishing your look with a pair of strappy heels and a silver necklace, you couldn't help but think about how previous events with George brought you even closer together.

Your friendship kind of became more... intimate. No pun intended. Guess you were both afraid not to lose each other over the past experiences, and that deepened your bond whether either of you wanted to admit or not. Now your only fear was that your closeness wouldn't tear you apart.

A soft knock pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to see George standing at the door with a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair tousled in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice low and husky. "Ready to party?"

Never before have you paid any mind to the nicknames he called you, but now a thrill ran down your spine. The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world.

"I am," you said, smiling at him.

As you stepped out of the door, George took your hand in his and led you to the car waiting outside. The drive to the club was short, but the anticipation was high. The party was in full swing when you arrived; loud music, flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol filled the air.

George led you to the VIP section where his friends and family were already celebrating. You saw his siblings and a few of his close racing buddies. You could hear their loud cheering as they saw George walk in with you and feel the envious glares of the other women in the room.

George handed you a glass of champagne and raised his own in a toast. "To the best damn team in the world," he said, looking at you and his friends.

Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, feeling it go down smoothly. The night was young, and the energy in the room was electric.

The party kept going on as the night deepened, and the noise of the songs blasted through the room. Glasses were filled up with drinks constantly, making it more of an effort to ignore the effects of the booze. You found yourself on the dance floor, surrounded by George and his friends. The bass of the music throbbed in your chest, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm.

Throughout the night, each person had a chance to take their turn with you on the dance floor, and eventually you were spinning around in George's arms. The heat of the club mixed with the buzz of the alcohol made your skin flush against his. You could feel his muscles flexing as he twirled you around, his hand firmly holding onto yours. The closer you danced, the more the tension between you grew.

For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was watching. You moved on him like it was just the two of you in the world, your hands moving over his body like never before, and hips swaying in perfect synchronicity. You were so close to him that you could feel his breath on your neck, and the scent of his cologne filled your senses. You felt yourself getting lost in him, and something stirred inside you.

And it seemed like George caught up on your odd behavior as the song faded away. He grabbed your arm and started leading you away from the dance floor until you reached a quiet corner. But your drunken mind wasn't understanding his intentions.

You threw yourself onto him and he had to secure your hips with his hands to stop you from slipping. You let out a hazy chuckle as you started grinding against him once more before he pushed you back against the wall.

"Stop it, that's not why I brought you here."

But you didn't listen. You pulled yourself even closer, letting your lips brush against his neck. "Then why did you bring me here?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, your breath tickling his skin. "The drinks have gone to your head. I brought you here to take a break and cool off a little." he avoided telling you that you were drunk and not acting like yourself, afraid to provoke any unnecessary argument between you two.

Still, you weren't paying any attention. You were too inebriated to realize that your behavior was a little out of character, and you certainly weren't considering the consequences of your actions. You clasped your hands around his shoulders and pressed yourself against him again.

George tried to keep a respectable distance between you, pushing his hip backwards as you pushed yours forward, fighting the urge to get too close. That got you into an interesting position; you were leaning against the wall in between his arms with your shoulders as he leaned into you with his upper body. Your hand naughtily ran down his side, poking him. You knew you probably shouldn't touch him, but you couldn't stop yourself. His muscles strained as he let out a shaky breath.

"You're getting awfully close to me," he murmured, unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. His fingers slowly slid from their grip on the wall.

"Then don't push me away," you said back.

His face was just inches away now, and your lips unconsciously moved closer. The atmosphere between you two was thick with anticipation, a feeling that you currently relished in. Your lips were only a breath away from his when he spoke.

"We can't." his eyes locked with yours.

"Why?" you asked breathily.

"Because we're best friends." his voice was barely a whisper.

He hoped the reason he gave you would remind you of everything you asked from him that first time. But he didn't tell you that he feared you'd regret it when you sobered up, and that it would be his fault for not stopping it.

"And?" in the state that you were, did he really think that would stop you? He couldn't have been more wrong. You wanted to push him to feel something. Anything. "Best friends can do a lot of things." you smirked.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes still on yours. "No, they can't." he gritted, shaking his head.

"You're right." you said, the alcohol clouding your judgment. "They can't do this." and your hips finally met his.

He swallowed hard, trying to stay level headed. "What am I going to do with you?" he said in desperation, his hands pressed flat on the wall behind you, trying their best not to touch you as they dangerously started slipping down.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering under your palms as you glided them down his torso. "Remember how you said you can read my body language?"

"Yeah," he breathed, nodding his head.

"What is it telling you now?" you whispered against his lips.

"It's telling me we're going to be in big trouble if you don't stop this," he replied. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

"Then don't fight it. Show me." you murmured.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours. Your arms snaked around his neck and fingers twined through the hair at its nape, pulling him closer. You couldn't believe that you had done all those other things, but never kissed. And when ultimately his mouth closed on yours, it was like finally locating the elusive jigsaw piece on a seemingly ordinary Tuesday while tidying up your home that you thought had been lost forever. It made you almost not want to kiss anyone else ever again — almost, because deep down you knew you shouldn't have been doing this in the first place.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his head tilted to get a better angle. The kiss was soft, tentative, like both of you were very aware of what might happen. You pressed your mouth against his more firmly, tasting him. Parting your lips slightly, you felt the silky wetness of his tongue on yours. You bit his lower lip, letting out a deep moan when he groaned in response, hands that were in his hair tugging on the strands slightly. He groaned into your mouth again, pulling you even closer against him. You had no idea how long you were kissing, but it was definitely not enough.

The kiss broke, and you leaned your face against his neck, panting heavily. He glanced down at you, his lips so close to yours that if you had merely lifted your head, they'd be touching again. The warmth emanating from your body made him want to do things he knew he shouldn’t. He placed his forehead against yours, trying desperately to get control of himself.

"We should get back." he said between breaths. Your head was spinning from the alcohol and his scent and the magical kiss, it took you a moment to realize you were no longer kissing him. You opened your eyes and met with him.

"We should, before they realize we're missing." you nodded. He frowned, but his eyes were smiling. He was relieved, but he was also worried for you and what tomorrow might bring when you sobered up.

"Lets go," he said, turning around, but kept an arm around your waist so as to not let you get lost. You looped one arm around his neck, holding onto his shoulder, and gently hit his other shoulder with your head.

The night was still young and the party was still going. Music was playing, people were dancing, and laughter filled the room. Your friends cheered when they saw you two come in together, but neither of you paid any attention to them; all that mattered was that you were here, with him. Guys grabbed drinks for the both of you from different parts of the room and put it in your hands.

You found a spot on the couch and George sat next to you, his arm around your waist protectively. The conversations flowed easily between you two, and soon enough you both forgot what had happened earlier as you joined the rest of the group in drinking, singing along with music and laughing.

He later found you on the dance floor swaying around completely out of rhythm with a drink in your hand. Your face lit up when you saw him.

"There you are, my champion." you leaned into him, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

"I won the race, not the championship.” he chuckled.

“Mm, don’t care. To me you are the champion.” you slurred, pouting.

“Hey, is everything alright?" he asked, supporting you.

"Mmhmm." you mumbled. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." you could hear the frown on his face. "You're drunk." he spat as he attempted to take away the half empty glass from your grasp.

"I'm not." you said, feeling yourself lose your balance a little as you swayed back and forth. He put his arm around you to help you balance.

"Yes, you are. I should've taken you home the first time around." he sighed, somehow not surprised you managed to get even drunker. You were both intoxicated for that matter, it's just that George knew how to hold his liquor. And he looked to never go over his limit in case something like this happened.

"No." you tried to pull away from him.

"I'm taking you home." he tightened his grip around you, leading you out of the party. You mumbled something in response, not quite sure what you were saying.

He helped you into his car and buckled your seat belt for you, before getting in himself. He drove slowly, carefully navigating the roads while you were almost passed out in his passenger seat. Every now and then he'd take a hand off the wheel to reach over and brush your hair away from your face or wipe away a stray tear from your cheek if one escaped your eye. As he turned into your street and parked the car, your eyes fluttered open.

"Um, could you walk me to the door?" you asked.

"I was planning on it," he said, unbuckling his seat belt.

Both of your arms wrapped around his left one, holding on for support, as he walked you to your apartment. Your little nap helped clear the haze from your head, but you were still tipsy. When you reached the entrance of your flat, you propped yourself against the door and blinked up at him.

"Do you want to come inside?" inviting your best friend into your home have never before seemed more dangerous and George should've known better than to say yes.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you asked to break an awkward silence that fell among you the moment he shut the door.

Before even waiting for his answer, you made your way towards the kitchen, but he extended his arm and grabbed your waist, preventing you from moving further.

"I think we both had enough to drink tonight," he said.

"Then what do you want to do?" you whispered.

"I want to claim my prize." he must have had a few more drinks than usual at the club to summon up the courage for that sentiment.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest, the alcohol still fogging your mind but not enough to miss the implication of his words. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. His hand still rested on your waist, his fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your dress.

"Is that what I am, a prize?"

"No, no." he said quickly, his eyes softening. "You're so much more than that, you know that." his hand cupped the side of your face. "When I saw you looking up at me on the podium today, I realized I couldn't have done it without you. You were the one who had been cheering me on from the sidelines all this time. You've been there for me when no one else was." he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You've been my lucky charm all these years and I want to show you how much you mean to me."

The way he was looking at you made your chest heave with a mixture of emotions. You were both under the influence, and you knew this was not the best time to make decisions, but you couldn't resist him. You leaned in and attached your lips together again, only this time with more passion, more desire. You could feel his hands running through your hair as he kissed you back, his tongue playing with yours, his body pressing against yours.

He pulled away, looking at you with a hunger you had never seen before. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to say anything. His lips crashed onto yours, hungrily claiming your mouth as his own. Your body responded to his touch, your hands roaming over his chest and tangling in his hair. He lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours. Climbing on top of you, his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. You moaned softly, your hands gripping tightly onto his muscular back. He pulled his lips away from you, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

You nodded, reaching up and pulling him back down. He gently kissed you again and you responded in kind, but he pulled away again.

"I'll stop if you tell me to." he whispered. "I don't want to do this unless you want to."

"I want to." you murmured. The alcohol may have distorted your judgment, but it surely helped your courage.

"Are you sure?" he asked a third time. You laughed softly, trying to push him off. He had you pinned to the mattress, still pressing you down.

"Yes, I'm sure." you said, no longer laughing.

That was all he needed to hear. He kissed you hard, his fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of your dress. He ran his hands underneath, gently resting them on your ribs, and pulled your dress upwards. You lifted your hands above your head, freeing him of the task of removing your dress as you squiggled out of it and freed yourself from the restriction that was your dress.

He kissed you again, letting his hands run over your bare skin. His lips kissed down your throat and chest, his hands undoing your bra. He pulled it away and tossed it aside, taking in the sight of you.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. You blushed, and he smiled. His lips traveled down your leg, gently caressing the outside of your thigh. "But I'm a little jealous, you know?" his lips traveled back up, his tongue tracing over the slope of your breast and hands kneading them softly. "You got to taste me, and I..."

He kissed his way down your body, his hands going over every inch of exposed skin, reminding you how skillfully he handled you that very first time. He reached your inner thigh and slid his hand underneath your underwear. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his fingers brush against you before a long finger slid inside you. You moaned loudly, spreading your legs apart for him. He smiled against your neck, his teeth taking in your skin, his tongue leaving a trail of fire behind.

His finger slowly moved inside you, circling you before sliding in and out. His hand pulled your underwear down, you kicking them off to the side. His mouth moved down your figure, hovering over your breasts. He teased you for a moment, blowing against your nipples before drawing the tip of his tongue over one. He did the same with the other, his fingers never ceasing to move. His kisses continued further down, over your stomach until they reached your mound.

"Can I?" he asked, peeking at you.

"Please..." you tried to hide the shake in your voice.

His tongue slid between your lips, gently licking you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy against your sensitive skin. He teased you, his tongue circling your clit before sliding inside you. His tongue flicked over your clit, his hands holding your thighs apart. You spread your legs even wider, your body arching up to him. He leaned in, gently sucking on your clit and you moaned loudly, his tongue moving faster. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against his face.

You were nearing your end, your moans growing louder with every movement of his tongue. You could feel his lips smile against your skin, enjoying the sounds you were making. You cried out, your body tensing as you came, shaking against him. He pulled away, slowly kissing his way up to the top again. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, not hurrying you up as you sucked in his bottom lip, squeezing out your own juices.

"Taking that trophy is the second best thing that has ever happened to me." he whispered. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, your hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "The first, of course, being you. You're my greatest reward." he continued as you trailed kisses down his neck, removing the shirt off his shoulders.

"Stop talking, George."

"Sorry," he whispered as he closed his eyes, surrendering above you.

You kissed his chest, your nails raking up and down his sides, feeling his muscles tense. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and could sense the urgency in his touch. His hardness pressed against you, begging to be liberated. You pulled away from him, reaching for his belt buckle and his eyes shot open, hands reaching for yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. He knew if you go any further there would be no going back and some irreversible things would be done.

"Are you sure?" you asked back, smiling mischievously. "I thought this is what you wanted." your nail dangerously circled around his lower abdomen, causing his breath to hitch with every word he spoke.

"I-I do. I'm just making sure you're not doing it just because I want it." you could tell he was really struggling to hold himself back.

"I think we've already established that..." you whispered against his lips and prompted your body more to his.

"Okay," his hand moved away from yours, and you undid his belt.

His pants fell around his feet and he kicked them off. His boxers were the last thing left, and you reached for them, slowly pulling them down. His hand held the back of your head as he kissed you, his tongue twirling around yours. You moved to pull away but he held on tighter.

His boxers hit the floor and you looked up at him, his hands resting on your frame. Gently taking your hand, he placed it on his dick. You gasped, feeling it grow even more underneath your touch. He pulled away, his lips planting kisses down your neck as his hand guided yours up and down his length. You felt him shiver as you grazed the tip with your nails, his breath hitching. He removed his hand, and your eyes shot open when you felt his tip brush against your entrance.

He teased you, running it up and down your slit. You threw your head back in pleasure, your back arching against him. The more he prolonged what you needed the most, the more your neediness grew. You tried to guide him inside you but he resisted, placing a finger on your lips instead. He dragged it over them before he made you suck on it, his eyes never leaving your face as he blew a stream of air out. Your eyes widened when you felt his head brush against you again, making you gasp audibly, his name falling from your lips.

"Please," you remembered what he told you the first time he had you in his arms like this. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please..." you chanted over and over again.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath. Hearing you beg for him made his head spin again. It was like you'd put him under a spell every time you'd utter that word and he'd not be able to deny you anything. Not that he ever wanted.

He slowly pushed inside of you, stopping at every inch to wait for you to adjust. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he began to move again. He kissed you, your nails digging into his back as he stretched you more. He was so gentle, it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. This was not the normal rough, lustful sex. This was the man who loved the sight of you, the sounds of your pleasure. This was the man who wanted to make love to you, to show you what true pleasure was.

Your fingers sank into his back again, and he responded by thrusting into you harder, your moans getting louder. His lips traveled down your chest, his tongue flicking a nipple as he pushed into you again.

"Oh, god." you moaned, George's name falling from your mouth repeatedly. Your hands dug into the sheets as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.

"You feel so good... so damn good," he kissed your skin. "Making me feel like I don't ever want to take anybody else again."

"Don't stop, please, whatever it is that you're doing, please, just don't stop." you cried, twining your legs around him to press him deeper.

He moaned in pleasure when you did, his hands tightening their grip around you. His breathing grew heavier and faster, your bodies reacting to each other. He was so close, and he could feel you held right on the edge.

You cried out his name, your form shuddering under him. He had no intention of stopping, and he continued his movements as you kept shaking, your voice loud enough to wake up the whole apartment complex.

"You, George, only you…" you whispered into his ear as you were coming down.

You felt his whole build shake, his cock pulsing inside of you, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to hear him as he climaxed. You wanted to hear the sounds he made, the sweetest song in the world.

"George… George…" you panted, your breathing coming out in jagged breaths.

He cursed, as his body trembled with pleasure. His hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he came. You buried your face in his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. He kissed you, holding you close to him. He wanted to stay inside you forever, to feel the sight of your face as he pleased you. You did that to him. You were the one making him see another reality where only he and you existed.

But he pulled away, your eyes searching for his as you slowly came back to reality. He kissed you again, his lips landing on yours.

"That was amazing… you were amazing…" he whispered, stroking your face gently.

"So were you." you said back, playing with the bangs that fell over his forehead.

He rested his head on your chest, finding a comfortable spot, your hands moving into his hair.

"Are you going to stay?" you whispered, uncertain.

"Only if you want me to."

"Always."

He hugged you tightly and rolled over so that you were now on top of him. His fingers softly ran along your back as your body let go and fully relaxed. The peaceful sound of your heartbeats and his breath seemed to take over the room. You drew near to him, feeling the up and down movements of his chest gently rock you to sleep, matters of your friendship left for tomorrow's morning news.

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bangtanflirt · 9 months

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)

I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)

____

The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.

“Who are you?”

The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.

“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”

“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”

“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”

She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.

You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.

Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.

It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.

“It’s lukewarm.”

“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”

You wave your hand dismissively.

“No need. You’re fired.”

The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.

“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”

“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”

She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.

“Please! Please, I need this!”

You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.

Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.

“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”

Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.

“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”

“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”

“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”

You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.

You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall. Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.

“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”

“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”

“Still?”

The tension in the air is palpable.

“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”

“So they’re cooking the books?”

“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”

“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”

The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.

“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”

A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.

“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”

“It’s just—”

“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”

Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.

You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”

That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.

It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.

___

The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).

Yup. A typical day.

Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.

“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.

“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”

You keep your smile through gritted teeth.

“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”

“I’m sure.”

The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.

“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”

“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.

“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”

“Sounds good sir.”

What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.

So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.

“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”

“What type of technology are we talking?”

“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”

You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.

“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”

“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”

“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”

He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.

Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.

Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.

“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”

You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.

“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”

You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.

“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”

You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.

“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”

“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”

Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.

“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”

So you hold your breath and swipe.

And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.

This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.

Holy fuck.

“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”

Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.

“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”

You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.

Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.

“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”

There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.

“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”

Shit. He got you. Checkmate.

The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.

“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”

You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.

“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.

“Excuse me?!”

“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”

It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.

You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.

“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”

___

The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.

It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.

“This is where you’ll be staying.”

You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.

“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”

He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

No response.

“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”

Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.

“I’m hungry Miss.”

It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.

That’s when the realization hits you.

If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.

It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.

You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.

“Eat up.”

With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.

And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.

____

A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!

#bts ot7 x reader #hybrid bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #hurt/comfort #unnatural instincts

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lovelyverosika · 3 months

Text

I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

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juletheghoul · 2 months

Text

Castaways (Part 1)

AN: Before I get into the notes for this - I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who took the time to send me a message / comment on my post, it meant a lot to me. 💜💜💜 As for this story, I started writing it in Sept of 2022, after watching the Harrison Ford movie, Six Days, Seven Nights lol. I had a lot of it down pretty quickly but eventually, I stopped. Now that new ideas aren't as bountiful as they once were, I started combing through all of the half-finished works in my docs and I fell back in love with this one. Hopefully you enjoy it. I have an ending planned out so there will definitely be a part 2! Shout out to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments in this doc. Enjoy xox.

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader (Princess as a nickname)

Warnings; C o m p e t e n c y - a very brief snake…encounter?-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy with gusto (when doesn't he), creampie, longing, yearning, a helicopter crash (nothing too graphic), reader is spoiled at first and generally kind of snobby- enemies to lovers? Bit of a slow burn! let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 13k 😅

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

The click of your heels sounded throughout the airy hangar with a purpose, the echoing sound of it heralding your journey to give someone—anyone hell.

A quick flick of your wrist reminds you how late you already were for the retreat booked in your private slice of paradise; the private jet your father paid a fortune for had made an emergency stop in Puerto Rico- some nonsense about a storm.

Unacceptable.

An imperious sigh leaves your mouth -not a single person to lay into anywhere in sight, and it leaves you no choice but to head outside to see if there is a plane you could commandeer.

—

He wipes the grease onto the legs of his well-worn work coveralls, his previous scowl gone and replaced with a triumphant smile - finally got that fucking bolt off-

“Excuse me-” He turns toward the sound and is greeted by a very annoyed-looking woman. “Hi, do you know where I can find a pilot? There’s no one in the hangar.” She drags a very expensive-looking suitcase behind her with one hand, the other holding a ridiculously large hat onto her head.

“Hi, yes I’m a pilot - most of the staff have gone home, a big storm coming soon-”

“Perfect, can I hire you to fly me to this island?” Her fingers flew across the no-doubt latest model of smartphone in her hands - ignoring the shocked expression on his face at being so rudely interrupted. “This one here, I need to be there like three hours ago, and I would be there now if we hadn’t stopped here - you know where this is, right? Can you take me?” She all but shoves the phone into his face.

“No.” He carefully moves her manicured hand away from his face, and a tiny, cruel little part of him enjoys the shock in her expression - he very quickly gets the impression that this girl is not used to hearing the word. “As I was saying - everyone has gone home, a lot of people were grounded here, myself included. There is a big thunderstorm coming. Not safe to fly until it passes. Shouldn’t last too long - a quick squall - come back tomorrow, and I’ll happily fly you there.” He then turns to continue his work.

“Money is no object, but I need to leave now,” she says it through a huffed breath, and his eyebrows raise.

“And yet, my answer is still no.” He’s annoyed now. In truth, it was a fairly quick flight - he knew the island she’d shown him, had made the trip before, and it would be less than an hour, but her attitude was a black mark against her. Her phone trills then, a cheery tone, momentarily snatching her attention from him.

“Hi, Dad, yeah, I know. I’m at the hangar, looking for a ride.” She taps her foot, and it sets his teeth on edge. “There is a pilot here, but he says he won’t fly me.” She narrows her eyes at him when he turns to look at her, listening to the other half of the conversation he wasn’t privy to. “I’ll tell him- Sorry-” She inspects his name tag, “Francisco, my father says if you get me to the island within the hour, he’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.”

“I don’t know what part of it isn��t safe isn’t registering-” She raises her voice and speaks over him.

“He’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.” Her tone is loud but bored. “Besides - the skies are gorgeous - I’m sure we can make it before anything happens.” She waits a moment, “Plus another five grand when you land. And you can have accommodations until tomorrow - room service, the works. Just please - get me there.” Her eyes are hopeful, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges how pretty she is, or - would be, if she wasn’t such an insufferable princess.

He knew he should have said no. Knew he should have turned her down and followed the guidelines, but that kind of money would change his life. Change their lives- it would have been insane for him to turn it down.

“Fine.” He relents, shoving down the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll be your pilot. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.” She almost jumps with joy, and he can’t hide the annoyed expression on his face.

“Done - okay, I’ll be there soon, Dad! Bye.”

He was covered in grease.

You had to remind yourself not to wrinkle your nose at him. You supposed he could be handsome, in a scruffy, working man way, but that's beside the point. He was your saving grace right now, and that counted for a lot.

He fiddles with the engine of the helicopter for a moment more while he leaves you to wrestle your suitcase in by yourself, thankfully without breaking a nail.

“Alright - just going to perform a couple of checks, and we’ll be in the air.” He got in and began flicking switches, turning knobs, and checking over all manner of gauges while you made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the cramped little aircraft. It was hard, though, with your suitcase practically digging into your back behind you.

It’s fine. I’ll just have to get a massage once I land.

“Okay, we’re off.” He has his headset on, and you are in the air within a few moments. That, unfortunately, seemed to be the end of your good luck.

Whether by some cruel design, by the fates or gods, or whatever entity dictated the events of your life - it didn’t take twenty minutes in the air for the sky to turn a foreboding gray.

“That doesn’t look good,” he says, the words loud enough to be heard over the noise, his eyes quickly scanning the horizon, no doubt taking in the dark clouds flanking either side of the already rickety helicopter.

“It came out of nowhere.” One minute, the sky was blue, and the next, lightning forked the sky in the distance.

“No, it didn’t - I told you a storm was coming. This is too dangerous - I’m going to have to turn around for our safety.” He maneuvers the controls, and you have no choice but to agree despite your annoyance.

It all happened so fast.

Something strikes the aircraft, the sound of it booming in your ears so loud it hurts, and then he’s frantic. Manically pressing buttons and calling through the radio, but from the frustrated and frankly terrified expression, no one is answering.

“Fuck, tighten your seatbelt, we’re going down!” He grits his teeth, and all of a sudden, you are spinning, a scream being ripped from your throat - your heart falling out of your ass. “Impact coming - brace yourself!” he screams before the world goes black.

Someone is making noise, a low groaning noise that pulls him out from the depths of unconsciousness, he’s only mildly surprised to realize it is him.

The helicopter - his helicopter wasn’t making any noise, which was bad.

Under normal circumstances, it would be broadcasting out a signal beacon that would bring in a rescue team, but as it stood right now - without blinking lights or a working radio - it had gone completely silent.

Lighting must have fried it. Fuck.

He took stock of his situation. Luckily, he doesn’t feel any injuries aside from horrible whiplash. No blood, no broken bones. A softer groan comes from the woman beside him; she’s still out, and he couldn’t see any injuries- he’d know when she woke up.

I could kill you right now.

He thought the words, sighing loudly to himself before finding a way out of the cockpit. He’d managed to move most of what he had in the helicopter out onto the sand by the time she woke.

“Jesus Christ - what the hell happened?” She stumbles out, barely managing to stop herself from eating shit in the process, unfortunately.

“What happened is the storm I warned you about many times caught us in the air and grounded us here.” He’s laying out his supplies, lengths of rope, his toolbox, and empty water jugs. He has a small case with a flare gun, an emergency kit filled with first aid supplies, and a massive tarp. There are a few more things to go through, but it is important they find a source of freshwater soon, or they won’t last two days, especially with the heat making his clothes stick to his body.

She sighs loudly, struggling to make her way through the sand in those ridiculous heels she’s wearing

“And now we’re stuck here, on an island when, where I should be, is home with my-“

“Can’t you call mayday or something? My father is expecting me. I’m sure he’ll have an army looking for us.” She’s digging through her purse frantically, ignoring the scathing look he’s giving her.

Spoiled little brat, you only care about yourself, huh?

“Wow. You know what? That’s a great idea! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He can’t hold back. “Oh! I know, it’s because we were struck by lightning, and it fried everything, so whatever army your father sends won’t find us -there is no signal to hone in on.” He scowls at her, annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him even now. “Doesn’t help that a lot of these islands that are usually full of tourists are uninhabited after the hurricane that hit a few months ago.”

“So we’re stuck here???” Her eyes are wild as they look past him, to the beach just beyond, and then to the thick greenery behind them. “This cannot be happening right now,” she spoke to herself.

“Where the fuck is my phone??” She moves and makes her way back into the cockpit, all but ripping the aircraft apart before- “Fuck! You have got to be fucking kidding me! Don’t you have some kind of satellite phone or something??” She’s tapping at the deeply damaged screen, it completely destroyed.

He couldn’t help but bark out cruel laughter.

“I don’t know what planet you’re on. People - regular people don’t just have satellite phones, sweetheart.” He got up from his place in the sand, making sure to put the flares back in the helicopter.

“Great. Just great.” She sighs loudly, “So we’re stuck here. Do you even know where here is?” She fishes into her bag once more, pulling out a bottle of what looks to be sunscreen, and squeezing out some to spread over her exposed skin.

“No. I don’t, but the heat is going to kill us if we don’t find water soon. Grab one of those jugs, and let’s go find water. You might want to change your shoes.” He pushes her suitcase at her, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Chop chop, princess, let’s move.”

This couldn’t be happening, this could not be happening!

Right now, you should have been mingling with Louis, the gorgeous, billionaire bachelor your father invited to your private resort. You could almost picture it, the classy yet sexy outfit you’d be wearing while you flirted over a drink by the infinity pool. Broadening your horizons and nailing down the rich husband you deserve.

Instead, you’re here - stuck in the sand with the world's grumpiest pilot, trying desperately to get your phone to work, but it’s no use.

You can almost see the frantic look on your mother's face now that it was obvious that you hadn’t made it at the scheduled time, she and your father were probably coordinating with the military right this second, with the Navy.

What the fuck am I going to do-

The jug hits your lap, scaring you half to death.

“Come on, princess, let’s get moving. We have to find fresh water before we die of dehydration out here.” He’s standing a few feet away, staring at you with his perpetual scowl. “Change your shoes, and let’s go.”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?” They were pretty sensible as far as your sandals went, respectable heels, and relatively comfortable. His scowl deepens.

“You cannot stumble around the island in those, you’ll break an ankle, and I am not fucking dealing with that.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you brought a pair of runners in that giant trunk.”

“Of course I did,” your tone is icy as you get up with a huff. You quickly changed into them, and then you were off.

The terrain got more and more treacherous the further you got from the powdery white sand of the beach. Dirt and bramble gave way to thick, almost jungle-like vegetation, making the trek harder and harder as time slogged by.

The sound of running water greets the two of you like a siren song, spurring your tired, sweat-soaked body to move quicker, and the sight that meets you once you break the dense treeline could've made you moan. You jump into the water to cool your heated skin, ignoring the warning from Francisco.

“You should get out of there.” He’s at the edge of the clearish water, filling the jugs quickly.

He seems to be determined to infuse his sour attitude into everything, your mouth opened to tell him to relax when something brushes past your leg. At first, you think it might be a piece of underwater flora, but it becomes apparent very quickly that it’s something far worse.

“Francisco.” His eyes met yours, “Francisco, something just swam into my shorts, I-I think it’s a snake.” Your voice trembles slightly, hands itching to pull whatever it was out, but his voice cuts through the urge.

“Don’t move- are you sure it’s a snake?” He put the jugs down beside him, moving closer to you, descending slowly into the water.

“Yes, It’s coiling around my thigh, moving up - I need it out right now, I wanna just grab it-“ Your head tilts down, but he stops you.

“Don’t move! It could be venomous.” He wades into the water towards you slowly, too slowly. Your heart’s racing, hands shaking as you wait for him to reach you.

“Help me, get it out, get it out!” your voice is almost manic, desperation colouring every single inch of you.

“Okay, okay, calm - deep breath.” You followed his example as best you could, trying yet failing to ignore the slithering against your skin. “Slowly pull your waistband away from your body, and I’ll see if I can grab it,” his tone had lowered, a soothing timbre reminding you for a moment of how a teacher would speak to a student.

It helps.

You did as he asked, pulling at the waistband of your shorts, all thoughts of propriety forgotten, and within a moment, his hand was shoved down deep - a rather large hand fighting with whatever it was that had made camp in your pants.

He bit his lip in concentration, bodily pulling you towards him as he struggled. A moment later, he was raising it up triumphantly.

A huge shiver went down your spine at the sight of it, spurring you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible.

“Jesus Christ, it’s just one fucking thing after another,” you spoke as you made it out without incident, ignoring the huge sigh he let out behind you. “Thank you for that.” He was following closely behind you, not interested, it seemed, in having a similar experience.

“Don’t mention it. Let's fill these and get back to the beach.” He hands you a couple of empty jugs, and you reluctantly got to work.

All things considered, they were lucky. Frankie knew that. His helicopter - albeit small - was surprisingly well-equipped to handle being stranded. He had an emergency survival kit, purchased partly under the insistence of his mother but mostly so he never had to relive what had happened to him a few years ago. He’d tried not to think about it, but walking through the foliage back to the crash site had brought it all back. Vividly.

He pushed it away, shoved it down deep where he kept the rest of his issues - instead choosing to focus on what they needed to do. They needed some form of shelter, and soon.

“I am sweltering,” her voice was low behind him, whiny with the distinct tone of someone who had never truly been uncomfortable a day in her life. “Fucking starving.”

“Most likely, you’re dehydrated. Once we get back to the beach, we can figure out the water,” he spoke over his shoulder. “Have to make camp if we’re going to be here for a while.” They broke through the treeline, seeing his helicopter on the beach like a pile of old bones broke his heart a little - his only connection to home, to his little girl. He pushes it all away again.

“So how do we get this water drinkable?” she huffs out the words, dropping the jugs next to his laid-out supplies with great effort.

“We have to set up a purifying system, filter it, and then boil it.” He crouches down towards his supplies, looking for something clean he could use as a sieve. Luckily, he always kept an overnight bag with him, in case of being grounded somewhere, but he only had three shirts in there, he couldn’t burn one since he didn’t know exactly how long they’d be stuck there.

“I don’t have much in terms of clothes - you got anything we could use?” He looks up at her, “Something simple, a cotton t-shirt? Something we could use to strain the water.” He walks towards her trunk, waiting for her to open it up.

She opens it reluctantly, rifling through her things for a moment before handing over a simple white shirt. “Any chance I’ll be able to wear that again?” her voice is vaguely annoyed.

“I’m sure Daddy won’t mind buying you a new one.” She gives him an expression that could curdle milk. He ignores it. Instead, he busies himself, setting the jugs of water somewhere relatively level. He felt her eyes on him, and it compelled him to explain what he did as he worked. “We have to let the water settle for about an hour, let the sediment sink to the bottom, then strain it, then boil it.” Not for the first time in his life, he was happy to have his military gear within reach.

He works fast - you have to give him that.

As much as he grumbles and looks at you like you are the devil incarnate - you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly intelligent. Within a few hours of getting back to the camp, he had built an impressive fire, filtered the jugs of water, and had boiled most of it.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work building some sort of shelter,” he spoke after he finally sat down, the first break he’d taken all day. “Have to go about looking for food too, I saw some fruit trees - we’ll grab them on the way back from getting more water.” His eyes are heavy, you can see it in the way he blinked slower and slower.

“We have to make that trek again?” your voice is shrill, he sighs loudly.

“We’ll have to make that trek every single day until we’re rescued. Water is the most important thing. No delivery service here, princess,” his voice is sleepy, the usual bite in his words softened by the need for sleep.

“How will anyone find us?” The worry is evident in your voice.

“I have a flare gun and three flares - we’ll be able to signal someone. Go to bed, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He gestures to the helicopter–lovely, this will be comfortable.

—

The knock on the helicopter window ripped you out of sleep, your heart racing as you clutched at your chest.

“Wake up, princess.” He taps on the glass and through bleary eyes, you take note of the smile on his face as he wakes you up, “We have work to do.” He taps one last time and then leaves you.

You flash him the middle finger as he turns and laughs, annoying you even more.

You join him on the beach a little later, ignoring the ache in your body from sleeping in a half seated position. God I really need that massage.

“I’m going to make the trek for more water, while I do that you are going to gather palm fronds.” He had a jug in his hand as he moved towards the treeline. For a moment you panicked, the thought of being alone causing your heart to sink.

“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” You moved a few steps towards him, catching yourself before making it to him. “I mean–um,” You raised your chin at the surprised look on his face, ignoring it. “How many fronds?” There was an abundance of them, both on the ground and in the trees just beyond the sand. He paused, giving you a curious look.

“As many as you can, we’ll need way more than you think.” He turned then, and left you to it.

Time crawled by while you were alone, with only your thoughts and the sound of waves to accompany you. Sweat dripped down your brow as you gathered, gathered and gathered some more. Enough fronds that it made a huge pile beside the fire pit Francisco had made. Your stomach growling almost constantly now–the hunger so intense it was making you light headed.

Branches snapped, drawing your gaze towards his form. He had the jug in one hand and a stalk of bananas in the other. It was enough to make you moan.

“This is good, but it’s not enough. We have to gather more - have to cut down a bunch of bamboo too.” He put the jug next to the others before joining you where you sat. “Here, you must be starving.” He ripped off a handful of the glorious fruit and tossed them into your lap.

Nothing had ever tasted so good.

“Jesus Christ, I thought I would pass out.” You knew you had fruit on your face, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Thank you.” You peeled another, eating it just as quickly as the first.

“Don’t mention it. Okay, let's get to work.”

Your fingers were sore, your back was sore, every single part of you was sore. Hours crawled by with the sun beating down on you both as you weaved fronds together. He had you create sheets and sheets of it, had you help him cut down enough bamboo to build a house. He did the heavy lifting and made what looked like a crude rope tying together the bamboo in layers strong enough to hold both of you.

Wordlessly, he worked, the sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt like a marathon runner until it was a hindrance and he took it off, used it as a rag that hung limp over his shoulders. This was much worse than a marathon, though, much worse than any workout you’d ever done in your life, and although you’d never say it out loud, you were incredibly thankful he was here.

I probably would have died by now.

It was a terrifying thought that without him, you wouldn’t survive - you shoved it away. It wouldn’t matter soon because your parents would be looking, and they wouldn’t stop until they found you.

“Come lay on this, I want to see if it’ll hold both of us.” He stood over the platform, laying on it as you came closer. It held. “Perfect. We’ll be elevated off the sand, less chance of bugs or crabs biting us, and it’ll be cooler than the helicopter.” He let out a weary, tired sigh.

“You’re expecting us both to sleep on this?” You couldn’t help your tone, and instantly you felt bad. He’d worked very hard on this. His brow furrowed.

“You’re welcome to sleep where you want. I’ll be on this.” He got up, his scowl now back in place, “I’m going to finish here and then go fishing. Keep weaving.”

Quietly, you got back to work.

In all his years, Francisco had never met someone so spoiled and self-serving - even though he’d expected it from her, it still hurt. He didn’t know why - why it would matter that some spoiled rich brat was acting like a spoiled rich brat; maybe it was the lack of gratitude. He was useful, he was smart and he had skills that he knew for a fact she’d die without.

He stewed over it as he swam towards a large boulder protruding out of the water near the shore. A perfect spot to catch the fish that swam around in the reef below the surface.

I should let her starve. Find her own food and her own water.

He wouldn’t, though, he couldn’t. All his life, he’d been taught to be a good person, to help where he could and after what had happened in that jungle - he shook it off, pushed it down. Ignored the cruel, petty voice in his head and set about catching something to eat. All the while keeping an eye on the horizon for a boat - for any sign that people were looking for him. That his people were looking for him.

He let himself think about them, really think about them for the first time since the crash. His parents, his little girl, let himself feel the emptiness of being without them. He let the waves of it crash over him just as the ocean around him crashed into the shore, and then he put it away.

She was still working when he came back with his catch, her face scrunched up in concentration - ignoring her, he went about doing what needed to be done.

“Is this enough?” Her voice cut through his concentration, and he nodded noncommittally - leaving the prepped fish on a relatively clean piece of driftwood he’d found.

“Hold this.” He stood at the corner of the raised bed and had her hold a tall, sturdy piece of bamboo. His plan was to make a small frame around the base, use the tarp in order to waterproof it, and lay the fronds all around to protect them from the winds that blew through here in bad weather.

She watched him work in silence, standing where he told her to stand, holding what he told her to hold and eventually, finally - they finished. It was as solid a structure as he could manage without planks of wood or nails, strong enough to survive against a moderate storm and to keep them off the sand.

He’d used the tarp to cover the roof and three sides, leaving one open for them - him to enter. On top were rows of fronds to catch rainwater and prevent it from pooling in the tarp, the rest of the unused woven sheets she’d made laid inside to use as bedding. With the emergency blanket and his military bedroll this would make a decent bed.

All in all, he was proud of himself, he took the raw materials he’d found on this island, and fashioned himself – themselves a shelter.

His stomach growled. It was time to start that fire.

Your stomach was screaming out in hunger. The bananas had been wonderful, but they weren’t enough.

“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” You watched him wrap the fish in banana leaves and put it into red hot embers; you couldn’t help but be slightly dubious about eating something he’d just pulled out of the ocean. He sighed loudly before answering.

“You don’t have to eat it,” he sounded tired, and you supposed he must have been with how hard he’d worked. “It’s edible. I’ve caught this fish before.” He wiped at his brow with the shirt around his shoulders, his skin slightly pink from the sun.

You didn’t say anything, still unsure, but when the time came for him to unwrap the blackened leaves, your stomach growled loudly. It looked very good.

He didn’t offer any, instead, he snatched a piece of the steaming, flaky fish and popped it into his mouth, relishing the taste with a loud groan and a big smile. A nice smile, in truth.

“Maybe I’ll try a little bit.” You scooted closer to where he sat in the sand, unable to resist it.

“Here, careful - it’s very hot.” He tore a piece of a fresh banana leaf and gave you a decently sized filet, and with singed fingers and zero patience, you took a bite.

It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing you’d ever eaten.

“Good?” He ate quickly, his expression amused at your very obvious enjoyment of the ‘dubious’ fish.

“It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” You meant every word, and licked every last morsel off your fingers.

It was incredibly dark by the time the food was eaten, and the fire had died out. Francisco was attaching a piece of netting to the open side, and once he was done, he climbed in without another word.

The helicopter felt safe, enclosed and a space you could lock, but the shelter would have airflow. It would be infinitely cooler to sleep in. You knew that, eventually that helicopter would turn into a greenhouse that felt more like an oven. Not to mention how horrible it was to sleep sitting up.

Every second that passed made the shelter look more and more appealing, and after quickly changing into clean clothes, you slipped in silently, but it didn’t even matter, he was already asleep.

—

He woke to the feeling of soft breath on his back, the air was significantly cooler than it had been during midday, and now, in the early dawn of the morning she was seeking him out for warmth. It was in him to pull away, to deny her, but instead, he stayed motionless. Let her even breath comfort him for a few moments before he eventually rose to bathe in the ocean. Her hand was draped around his middle, pressing herself flat to him while she slept, completely oblivious.

He thought about how scandalized she’d be to know she was being so intimate with him; it almost made him laugh, but soon, that internalized mirth shifted to something bitter, something close to anger. He was only too aware that when she looked at him, she saw ‘the help’; someone like her could never see him as anything other than someone else to pay off, the person hired to do things below her. She shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer, her soft puffs of air ruffling the hair curling at the base of his skull.

Why does that bother me? I don’t even care about this person.

He sighed, confused with himself over these baffling feelings of inadequacy, frustrated that being close to another person felt good. Annoyed that he didn’t want to pull away - no matter how much of a brat she was. If she woke now and saw them tangled, she’d be embarrassed, perhaps even disgusted, he knew this for a certainty. So he left her.

Dawn found you almost frustratingly well-rested, as well as alone. All doubts that may have lingered about the craftsmanship of the shelter evaporated like the morning dew. A long, much-needed stretch is the catalyst that moves you out of the shelter, making sure to close the netting on your way to grab your toiletry bag when he catches your eye from his place in the water. The early morning sun lit up the surface like diamonds. He was running his hands through his hair, wringing out the shirt he’d been wearing the day before. His skin was golden, the high planes of his face kissed by the sun's rays, his shoulders too. You watched him for a time, unable to ignore the breadth of his shoulders - the pleasant sight of his thighs and it was hard not to stare at him when he rose out of the water, the droplets from his golden skin casting a sort of spell on their way back down to earth.

His hands were something else altogether, weaving their own magic the closer he came to shore, from the way they wrung out the shirt easily to the way they adjusted his considerable bulge as he walked, and you looked away quickly, ignoring the curious heat crawling up your chest.

He found you brushing your teeth, pointedly looking away.

“I’m going to go look for more fruit.” He spoke as he put the wrung-out shirt to dry next to some of the other things he’d washed before changing out of his wet boxers behind the cover of the helicopter. “You should gather more firewood, things to burn for tonight.” When he came back around, he was dressed in a clean white tee and a pair of shorts. Looking for all the world like a man on vacation.

“I’m coming with you.” You rose from your place in the sand quickly, shuffling to reach him before he left you. “I’d rather not wait around.”

“Fine, come on then.” With that, you both set off into the trees.

The morning was full of birdsong and sunlight, bright buttery shafts of it cutting through the trees while the former echoed around you.

“This would be a gorgeous place to vacation.” He echoed your thoughts as you followed a faint path in the brush.

“I guess, would need a vast improvement.” Like a hotel, and an actual landing strip maybe. He laughed low, his eyes looking high into the trees.

“I don’t know, I don’t mind it being a bit rustic.” He pointed ahead, a few coconut trees catching his attention.

“This is more than a bit rustic I’d say. God I can’t wait until my parents find me. I should be by the pool right now, mingling with Louis.” Your palm smacks against the first of surely many bites rising on your skin.

“That your boyfriend?” He’s serious now, scooping a couple of coconuts from the floor and dropping them into your arms.

“No, but he should be. He’s an insanely wealthy man my father invited to our private island, where I should be right now.” You sighed loudly, annoyed at the situation all over again. “Soon. Soon, I will be back where I belong. God, my mother is probably worried sick, you know?” You stood there, holding onto the coconuts he stacked in your arms before moving on to find more fruit.

“Sure.” He all but grunts, moving carefully through the brush. “I get it-“

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the military is out searching for me right now.” An image of handsome Louis frantically joining the search with your parents makes your stomach flip.

I wonder if he is worried about me?

“Focus.” His voice rips you out of your daydream. “Let’s grab some more bananas, and head back.” He seems annoyed - he’s always annoyed.

“I hate this.” Your arms ache from holding the heavy coconuts. “Shouldn’t we be building a signal fire or something?” You can hear the whining tone, but you can’t stop it. Must everything be so hard?

“And just what are we meant to signal? Seen a bunch of planes, have you?” His tone is icy, his expression angry. “Cruise ships sailing by us every hour?” He finds a banana tree and cuts down a stalk, his movements aggressive.

“Well no-“

“Exactly. We’re on our own, which means until the military or whoever is looking for you finds this island- we have to work.” He props the bananas against his shoulder and turns back towards the camp, pointedly ignoring the way you struggle to keep up with him.

You’re already covered in sweat by the time you make it back to camp, breathing hard and soaking through your clothes.

“Jesus Christ, I cannot with these things.” You dump the coconuts next to the water jugs, shaking out your aching limbs. He sets the bananas next to them before moving to grab some firewood from the tree line. Your eyes scan the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore; it would be pretty enough without the eye sore that is the helicopter.

“I cannot wait to be away from this hunk of junk.” His movements stop at your words.

“That hunk of junk was my entire fucking livelihood. I don’t have a rich daddy to just buy me a new one.” He tosses the wood pieces angrily into the pit, ignoring the recoil his tone inspired. “Not everyone has it so easy, princess.”

“No, I guess they don’t, sorry-“ he spoke over you.

“Forget it.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s just do what we can to survive until someone finds us.” His expression was cold, and you can’t help the guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach.

“Sounds good.” The rest of the day passed by in silence.

—

The days both fly, and crawl by and Frankie works each and every one of them. He works to find them food, he works to reinforce their shelter - to make them as comfortable as he possibly can, all while trying his hardest not to lose his mind. The picture of his little girl burned a hole in his heart when he looked at it each night. He only hoped she knew he’d come back to her.

Being stuck on an island by himself would have been bad enough; the loneliness, the isolation would no doubt be detrimental to his mental health, to his hopes of being found, but this? This had to be worse.

She helped, but only because he pushed her to. He knew that if it were up to her - they would have long since starved. He watched her as he braided more palm fronds to pad the sleeping platform, she was washing some of the clothes she’d worn as best she could, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was pretty. Her face was pleasant to look at when her nose wasn’t turned up. He can’t help but like the shape of her, imagining her skin would be soft and silky - he’d definitely been on this island too long.

Doesn’t matter how attractive she is, she doesn’t want you, and you don’t want her.

He didn’t know if he was reminding himself, or convincing himself.

A noise in the treeline behind him stops him mid-braid and for a moment, he thinks there might be someone else on the island, but he realizes what it is and grabs his knife. If he plays this right, tonight they’d eat like kings.

A new appreciation was born of having to wash your own clothes, for electricity, for washing machines and dryers, for Tide pods. For the maids who did your laundry and for the people who did your drycleaning, for the neat drawers full of clean clothes waiting at home.

For now, these would have to do. They wouldn’t smell like your favourite fabric softener, but they’d be clean enough to wear here at least. Francisco had set up a makeshift laundry line from the helicopter to a leaning palm tree, his things hanging as you added your own, and you briefly considered folding his things for him when his absence caught your attention.

“Francisco?” you called out to him, ignoring the way your heart raced. Usually, when he went off to get water or fruit, he let you know; it was unlike him to leave without a word. There had to be a reason. He wouldn’t just abandon you, would he?

Grab a hold of yourself, where the hell would he even go?

He crashed through the trees, triumphant and laughing, and you shoved away the altogether too-big feeling of relief that washed over you to see him.

“Good news, Princess, there’s wild boar on the island.” It was the happiest you’d seen him, well, ever. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can catch one.” He was making his way towards his supplies, and very quickly, the relief turned to dread. “We’re going to feast-”

“You’re going to kill a wild pig?” It was very hard to keep the worry out of your tone, or off your face.

“What’s the matter, never had pork chops?” He frowned now, his hands on his hips facing you.

“I mean, yeah, but this is a little different than going to a butcher and grabbing a few chops. You’re going to hunt down the animal and kill it? I’m not into that. I don’t know if I could eat it.” He narrowed his eyes at you, no doubt preparing to rip you a new one. “It’s also incredibly dangerous - they have a tendency to gore people.” His expression changed at that, real consequences seemed to get through to him.

“I mean, it’s not that different, but fine.” The wind had gone out of his sails, “I’ll see if I can catch something in the water - you okay with that?” He grabbed his fishing gear, raising an eyebrow, and you nodded before he made his way towards the water. You knew he was probably cursing you for ruining whatever he imagined cooking, but still, you couldn’t help but consider it a victory.

Babe, the pig wouldn’t be dying on your watch, and neither would he. Instead, he returned to the camp a few hours later with a fish, a few crabs, and a look that said you better not have any complaints. You didn’t. None that you’d say out loud anyway.

Dinner was a quiet affair, tasty and filling with the fish and the added protein; you both went to sleep full, and ungored.

Something loud dragged you up and out of the haze of sleep. It was still dark, and the sun had not risen yet. The sound was definitely something loud - probably just a plane. You shot up, scrambling out of the shelter to see if what you were hearing was real, Francisco barely moved.

It was high up, but it was definitely a plane.

“Francisco! There’s a plane. Where are the flares?” You all but barrelled into the shelter to shake him out of his dreams.

“Hmmm, tired baby.” He was out of it but strong when he pulled you closer - you ignored the way your stomach flipped on its ass at his pet name.

“Francisco, let me go, there’s a plane!” You smacked at his face lightly, just enough to wake him up.

“Huh? A plane?” your words broke through his sleep-addled brain, and he shot up. “What kind of plane?” He was out and grabbing at his bag momentarily before he swore loudly, a sigh filling the quiet of the dawn. “You called me for a commercial plane? You didn’t actually fire a flare, did you?” The blood drained from his face momentarily.

“No, I would have, but I didn’t know where you put the flare gun.” You frowned at him, annoyed. “I thought they’d see it.”

“Thank Christ.” He took a deep breath, his hands on his hips, “That Is a commercial flight, and if you’d fired the flare, it would have not only been a waste of a flare, but you could have burned the shelter down, could have ruined our supplies.” He seemed angry, and that, in turn, pissed you off.

“I didn’t think about that, I was trying to help-“ You crossed your arms, ignoring the annoyed look on his face.

“With the altitude that plane has, it wouldn’t matter if we had a thousand flares; come to me before you try to signal anyone, got it Princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he got back into bed and didn’t mention the incident again.

You got back into the shelter, laying in the pre-dawn glow - conflicting feelings fighting for dominance within you. You stared at his back, at the soft curl of hair he wore like a halo, and the fluttering of your stomach won out for just a moment. The solid press of him holding you close while still asleep was strangely welcome, although you’d never admit it. His condescending tone came to mind then, he had a habit of speaking down to you, and while you could admit you weren’t the most knowledgeable in survival, you still deserved to be spoken to like an adult.

You fell asleep fighting the urge to both press yourself close, and smack him upside the head.

When morning well and truly came, it found you both in a terrible mood.

He was quiet, much like he always was when he was annoyed, so you left him with his thoughts and set off to find more fruit through the path you’d both taken to traveling every few days. Luckily, the island was bountiful, and there were plenty of bananas, coconuts, and even some mangoes, but there was only so much you could take and you decided to venture out a bit further, keeping your eyes peeled for something different.

After a while, you found a berry bush, a small variety you didn’t recognize at once, but they were a very gorgeous, deep purple colour. Thinking he might appreciate a change as much as you, you picked a few handfuls and wrapped them up in a banana leaf before continuing your scavenging.

This was where your luck ran out, however, and if there were other varieties of fruit, they weren’t for you to find. Instead, you picked up a few mangoes and a coconut on your way back.

You found him looking through his things from the helicopter, a scowl on his face.

“Hey, I found some berries-” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his brow furrowed at the smile on your face. “I figured you were probably getting sick of the same fruit we’d been eating. I was hoping to find something else, but no luck.” You set them down in front of him.

“You didn’t eat this, did you?” his voice was curt and you frowned.

“No, I thought we could share them-”

“These are toxic.” He tossed them into the sand, burying them with a heavy sigh. “Do me a favour and don’t grab shit you don’t know for sure is edible. You could have made us really sick.” He turned then and continued with his inventory. Embarrassment and annoyance burned through your veins.

“You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, you know.” The words came on almost by themselves, bubbling up in your throat at the sanctimonious look on his face.

“What?” He paused and turned to look you in the face.

“You don’t have to be so fucking mean to me all the time.” You crossed your arms, holding in the frustration that seemed to expand in your lungs like a horrible balloon. “All you do is talk down to me. I said I was sorry about almost using the flare-” He huffed out an almost amused laugh and it boiled your blood. “It’s not funny! I’m stuck out here with you and all you do is yell, or talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m a person, and I deserve basic human decency-”

“What’s my last name?” He crossed his arms, his voice calm, but his question stole the words right out of your mouth.

“What?”

“You heard me - what is my last name? What do you know about me? Aside from the fact that my first name is Francisco, and that I’m a pilot.” He stood, knocking the sand off his shorts.

“I don’t think you told me-”

“No, I haven’t - do you know anything about who might be looking for me? Do you have any idea if I have anyone waiting for me to get home?” Your stomach sank, the anger slowly bleeding away and being replaced with shame. “Any idea if I’m married, or if I have kids?” He’s angry now, the scowl bigger than ever before.

“No, I-I don’t know.” You took a step back.

“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know that I’m divorced, that my parents are probably worried sick. You don’t know that I have a daughter, that her name is Tatiana, and that she’s probably thinking her dad abandoned her, or worse - that he’s dead.” You recoiled at that.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Your voice feels small, and the shame in your belly grows, vines of guilt wrapping themselves around your throat.

“How could you? You’ve never fucking asked me a single thing about who I am as a person! All you’ve done is complain. Complain and talk to me endlessly about how much money your parents have, how you should be on a private island, and how much of a fucking eyesore my livelihood is, and any time I’ve opened my mouth to respond or explain how we’re both stuck here, you’ve spoken over me.” His words cut at you - you don’t know this man at all, and you never ever cared to ask. You don’t respond.

He was well and truly angry now, kicking sand away from himself in his frustration.

“I’m sorry-” He put his hands up.

“Don’t. I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to pull your weight, and maybe realize that I’m also a person, and that all your money means jackshit to me. I need you to treat me like a human being, not just a sounding board.” He walked away, leaving you with your guilt - a sad balloon deflating alone.

They were both quiet that night. With Francisco, it was mostly out of anger. The feelings of inadequacy and frustration he’d been bottling up had finally been spoken aloud, and now he was processing them, all while still being stuck on this godforsaken island.

For her, he could see it was pure guilt. From the subdued expression, from her quiet words and general withdrawal, he knew no one had ever been so honest with her before. He would have almost felt guilty, if he hadn’t been so annoyed and hurt at the way she’d treated him. Instead, they both avoided each other for the rest of the night - a silent shared meal before wordlessly falling asleep in the shelter.

He woke the next morning to the feeling of her pressed against him again.

Her deep, even breaths against the back of his neck were embarrassingly welcome, and he ignored the way his body responded. He let out a low, deep sigh, grateful that he was facing away, a shudder passing through his body at the thought of having to explain why he was as hard as a rock.

His hand traveled down to where her leg was draped over his hip, unable to resist feeling her skin for just a moment before he slowly untangled their limbs, and made his way towards the water.

—

Days passed, and they passed without much conversation. This particular morning was somehow even more quiet despite the constant sound of waves lapping at the shore. The anger had fizzled out, and what was left was more akin to silent resignation. The two of you danced around each other, performing what were now everyday tasks without uttering a single word. The hours slipping by wordlessly, that is, until your scream cut through the silence.

“What is it?” He was at your side quickly, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like worry.

“I think I stepped on a shell-” The sand around your foot was turning pink, your eyes widening at the sight.

“Okay, take a deep breath and sit here-” He guided you with surprisingly soft hands towards one of the logs around the burned-out fire. “Don’t move - try to keep your foot out of the sand.” He stood then, walking away.

“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded strange, almost whiny, and you ignored the little pang of despair.

Get a hold of yourself.

“Just going to get the first aid kit.” The cut throbbed as you waited, and soon he returned with one of the water bottles and a big red case. He walked with purpose, the look on his face shamed you to have been so clueless. This was a man that had obviously dealt with many a scraped knee. “Okay, let's see what we’re dealing with.”

He kneeled on the sand before you, taking your foot into his hands. You hissed when he softly brushed the sand away.

“Tsk, come on now Princess. I know you can be braver for me than that.” His hands were soft, and so was his tone, and it filled you with something, comfort amongst other, less wholesome thoughts. You shook them away, chewing on your bottom lip, watching as he played nurse. “Nothing too crazy, just a little cut.”

He rinsed the sand carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Okay, this might sting a little.” He rifled through the open case beside him, grabbing a little pack of what looked to be antiseptic. “Deep breath for me.” He watched you then, waiting until you let the breath go before wiping the wound clean. The sting almost slapped you across the face, every instinct screaming to pull your foot away from the mean man.

“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” his hands engulfed your ankle, holding you firmly in place. “Good job, we’re almost done.” he spoke low, opening up a waterproof bandaid and carefully covering the tiny wound. “There we go. All done.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of your foot, his eyes widening after. “Sorry- force of habit.” He laughed awkwardly.

“Thank you. It feels much better.” You felt the heat in your chest and in your ears and ignored it, ignored the whole mess of feelings blooming in your gut for him.

“Yeah, sure.” He collected his things before scratching at the back of his neck and it thrilled you to realize that he looked as flushed as you felt. “I’m going to go catch something.” He got up quickly, moving with purpose away from where you sat, curtailing any further discussion.

He hadn’t expected it, but she’d taken his words to heart. He’d felt terrible after going off on her. The embarrassment on her face at how she’d treated him, although completely warranted, pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn’t exactly say why - it wasn’t something he could explain, not something he wanted to delve into. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he couldn’t be sure.

She no longer had to be told to fetch fruit, or water. She did her best to keep the camp organized, she no longer spoke about her wealth, or Louis. She was quiet most of the time, in fact, and he wasn’t sure if it was better, or worse.

Where she mostly avoided his annoyance throughout the day, she still clung to him at night. He never told her, convincing himself it was to spare her further embarrassment, ignoring the little part of him that knew it was because he was terrified that if she knew, she’d stop.

Things were different, that was for sure. The days passed and you had to admit to yourself that you’d been such an ungrateful, horrid little - well, Princess. He’d been completely right about you, and he’d had the patience of a saint. You saw him with different eyes now. You saw a competent, strong, intelligent man who up until now, was the only reason you’d survived on this godforsaken island as long as you had. It was well and truly humbling.

Instead of complaining, now you did your best to pull your weight. The goal was to show him that you were grateful, that you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl, that you could be something other than that, anyway. You wanted - needed to prove to him that you weren’t a burden.

It had been a particularly hot day, the sun beating down on the both of you with a vengeance. Sunset couldn’t come fast enough, and once it did, you cherished it like never before.

He dug around in the helicopter while you sat on the log, enjoying the tiny, but very welcome breeze coming off the water.

“Oh wow, I forgot about this,” You heard the smile in his voice, “How would you feel about a drink?” He held a bottle in his hand, making his way over to your place in the sand.

“I’d feel great actually, if you don’t mind sharing.”

“Bottle’s almost full, more than enough for both of us.” He sat next to you, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid before handing it to you. It was warmer than you would have liked, but the burn was pleasant enough that you didn’t care. “Good, right?” His smile is as breezy as the ocean, and just as welcome.

“Very good,” you couldn't help but admit before taking another long sip, “I can already feel it.” You smiled, handing it back to him.

“We’ll be cheap drunks tonight, that’s for sure.” He took another long swallow, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked. You watched the fire instead, focusing on the embers as the drink settled in your stomach. The heat spreads through your limbs, making you feel heavy where you sit beside him.

You both sat in silence for a time, passing the bottle back and forth until most of it was gone, and your head felt like a balloon barely tethered to your body.

“This would be such a beautiful place…without the whole ‘being stranded’ thing.” He held the bottle loosely, his eyes no doubt taking in the gorgeous sunset.

“You mean you don’t love being stuck out here with me?” You bumped his shoulder, and it vaguely registers how much you missed physical touch. He laughed, full-throated.

“Oh yeah, this is definitely heaven.” His expression is exaggerated, “You know what I mean.” He gestures to where the water laps at the shore. “This is a paradise, just needs a resort, and an airport.” He sighed, his mood is the friendliest you’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, it would definitely make a difference.” You leaned back and listened to the water. “Happy you’re here though, woulda died without you.” You didn’t mean to say it, but it’s absolutely true.

“Oh, I don’t know-” He shrugged, modest and much kinder than you deserved.

“Yes, you do-” You shoved at his arm softly, “You’re the only reason we’re still alive, super nice to me despite the fact that I can be a spoiled little brat.” You laughed.

“Can’t argue with that.” He laughed, “I like brats, though.” He smiled, and something that feels very much like butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. He didn't say anything else, and neither did you, the butterflies lingered, though, well into the night, and they only seemed to get stronger whenever his eyes found yours.

“It’s getting late-” He puts the bottle down, “-we should get some rest.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, instead, you just followed him towards the shelter.

It’s a strange, unfamiliar dance you’re both doing - the polar opposite of how things have been between you. Shy smiles replace cold stares, and a curious longing takes hold of you. It would embarrass you to fall prey to your baser instincts - there’s something in the way his eyes tracked you that says you weren’t alone in your feelings.

Something has shifted, he can feel it in the tense energy between them. A pleasant buzz flowed through his veins, danced along his nerves like a current, beat through his heart, and into his loins. She was so close, he could practically feel her warmth.

She sighed beside him, her legs rubbing together like a cricket and he knew in his gut, she felt the same energy.

“Good night, Frankie.” She whispered the words, as though someone might overhear. His eyes clenched shut at the feel of her breath ruffling through his hair, closer than she’d ever let herself get, awake anyway.

“Night-” Everything in him wanted to turn over, to feel her fingers ruffle through his hair, but something held him back. He stayed still, his body tense despite how relaxed the alcohol had made him.

“It’s a bit cold–” Her voice is a bit closer, so close he felt it in the shell of his ear, “-okay if I scoot closer?” Her hands pressed against his back, her legs tangled with his, and he knows in his bones, it’s just a ploy, but he stayed still nonetheless.

“Sure-get close.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his middle, holding it well above his waist, letting out a deep breath.

“Oh-okay.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, and every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around, to kiss her, bury his tongue in her mouth, and then trail it down, bury it between her legs, but he shook his head, convincing himself she just wants this.

“Night.” His voice cracked, but he said nothing more. He felt her staring at him, letting out a little sigh of her own.

“Night, Frankie.”

—

The days following your drunken night passed by in mostly silence, with a polite avoidance from him, and an annoyed quiet from you.

It was no secret that you had the power to annoy the hell out of him, but you’d thought there’d been something else. The look in his eye when he’d told you he liked brats, the sound of his voice when he’d held you close, the considerable boner pressing against your ass when you’d woken up to him wrapped around you that next morning.

Maybe you’d misread him, maybe it wasn’t flirting, maybe he’d just been stroking your ego, being nice to you, and you’d practically thrown yourself at him only to be.. What? Ignored?

The wind whipped around as you both ate dinner a few quiet days later, the sky dark and pregnant with the promise of a heavy rain, filling you with worry. The shelter was sturdy, you knew that, but you didn’t think it would hold up against a storm like the one that had blown you both onto the island to begin with.

“I don’t think we’ll be enjoying a fire tonight,” His eyes stared at the sky, same as you, “we should bring the clothes into the shelter; it’s going to pour soon.” He got up, tossing his banana peels into the fire pit just as the first few drops of water sprinkled down on top of you.

A nervous current flowed through your body as you made yourself comfortable within the shelter, making you acutely aware of his closeness.

The rain came down in sheets as you both lay there, filling the silence with its rhythmic pattering against the tarp. Lightning flashed, illuminating the space between you. A shiver ran through you at the look on his face.

“You okay?” His hand shot out, landing softly on your arm, raising goosebumps as it slid down towards your elbow.

“I’m fine.” You shudder, but all at once, annoyance springs up at his rejection the other night - you turn to give him your back.

“Are you… angry at me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Why would I be angry at you? It’s not like I threw myself at you or anything.”

“What?” His voice sounded incredulous, “You mean, when we were drinking?”

“Yes!” You sighed, “I was all over you. I guess I was wrong.” All at once, you’re embarrassed, and desperate to get away from his incredulous expression. The storm, however, holds you both hostage.

“Hm.” He sounded almost amused, and your stomach dropped, “Well, if I’d known that all you needed was to be fucked, things would have been different.”

Your stomach did a backflip onto its ass, shock, and pure adrenaline coursing through your body at his words. You turned slowly to face him.

“Sorry?” It came out almost stupidly, and he smiled a very self-satisfied smile.

“I said, if I’d known, that in order for you to stop being such a brat,” He moved in closer, forcing you to lay back and make space for him between your legs. “All you needed was for me to fuck you, I would have done it sooner.” He hovered above you, close enough that he must’ve surely felt your heart pounding where his chest met yours. It’s with Herculean strength, that you composed yourself, albeit nervously.

“Well, I guess I just thought you were more perceptive.” The bold words were completely at odds with the tremor in your voice; he laughed, full-throated, and it sent a current across every inch of you.

“Or maybe, I thought you’d open that pretty mouth of yours, and say what it is you wanted.” He pressed forward, dragging his lips across your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss. It started soft, and for a moment, the storm disappeared, your hands finding themselves tangled up in his messy waves, and then his tongue pressed forward, and it pulled a moan from somewhere deep inside you.

There was no more talking. Only the feeling of your heart racing, your cunt aching, and his comforting weight pressing you into the shelter, that is, before he shifted his hips and the considerable heft of him was slotted perfectly against where you needed him most.

The slip of his warm palm from the trembling skin of your belly raised goosebumps in its wake, and pulled a gasp from your mouth into his when it glided under your shit and landed on your breast. Those deft fingers you’d seen working away on all manner of things on this island, now plucked deliciously at your nipple.

It was almost violent, both the storm outside, and your haste to divest him of his clothes. The need to feel that golden skin on yours was a hunger pang, both terrible and euphoric, that burned as brightly as the flashes of lightning that lit up the shelter. His eyes shone with the same intensity you felt, and instantly, he moved away to help you, too, the two of you scrambling with a ferocity that bordered on anger.

“God, you’re so fucking hot–” He hissed the words onto your face before kissing you again, and any softness was gone, his teeth clicked against yours before his tongue took yours and laid down the law. Your skin burned with want, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back before you moved your hand down between you to finally grasp his cock. He pulled away from your mouth to stare down where you held onto him, drunk with the sight of just how big he looked in your grip.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He held himself above you, watching as you stroked him slowly.

“God, yes, I wanted this - I want you to fuck me–” you swiped your thumb over the head, fat pearly drops of his own arousal making it slippery, “I want you to come inside me, make me feel good-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his mouth claimed yours once more and pulled your hand away in order to slip himself between the lips of your sex, coating himself in you for a moment before he finally slipped inside.

“Jesus Christ, man.” You breathed the words onto his face at the stretch, at the way he seemed to have taken up every inch of space inside you, making you overflow with him. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping in a toe-curling rhythm. For a few minutes, there were no more words left, the only thing you can manage is to whimper, then moan in earnest when he ducked his head down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Your fingers like talons in his hair, keeping him close to your breast while your cunt soaked him in your want.

He let go of the perky bud with a pop, his eyes glazed.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come so fast,” he almost slurred his words, pussy drunk, “your tight little cunt is gonna make me fucking come–” He sped up, his cock punching into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make a lewd noise where you’re joined and you desperately wanted him to slow down so you can catch up.

“Wait–” Your legs squeezed where they’d hitched up high on his hips, “Frankie–” His rhythm stuttered for a moment before he thrust again, deep, filling you with his come, and you almost cried at the thought that he might be done so soon.

“Fuck-” He ground himself as deep as he could, milking himself inside you for a moment before pulling away abruptly, hissing through the oversensitivity to look at his handiwork, “that’s so fucking pretty baby, look at me dripping out-” He smiled at you, almost laughing at the look of anguish on your face at the emptiness, “what’s wrong?” His hand rubbed at your belly for a moment before it slipped down, and two big fingers filled you back up. “I know you didn’t come, but you don’t think I’m just going to leave you like this, right?” He pumped slowly, making you keen when he pressed against something holy inside of you. “No, I got you, baby.”

One moment he was kneeling between your legs, and the next, he was flat on his belly, his face pressed up against your pussy, tongue right on the button of your clit.

The moan you let out was obscene. His tongue circled your clit with devastating precision, over and over again, until you were staring down at him with your mouth open, begging and praying incoherently for him to keep going just like that. His eyes were bright, laser-focused on you just like his tongue, and his free hand came up to hold onto your breast, pinching at your nipple, and all of a sudden, the sting snapped, the wave crested, and you practically folded in half, swearing loudly as you gushed around his fingers.

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the storm got a little stronger, and louder as you both lay in the shelter, quiet and content to hold each other. Lightning turned the darkened skies into day for a moment before the boom of thunder shook you to your core.

“It’s okay, just loud.” He said it softly into your ear with the same patience he’d had when he bandaged your foot, the comforting words dads usually used for their children.

“I know, it just startled me.”

“Force of habit.”

“Your daughter, is she scared of thunderstorms?” You turned towards him, making yourself comfortable in his embrace.

“Only at first.” His smile was wistful, “She always jumps from the first big boom but then laughs,” his eyes crinkled, and it was hard not to notice just how handsome he is, the care and love he has for his daughter shining out through his eyes. “Sorry, I just miss her a lot.” It faltered, that handsome smile, and it made you sad for him.

“Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine how hard all this must be for you.” Guilt swirled in your chest at the way you’d treated him before, at your general attitude towards everyone up until getting stranded. “I’m sorry about how I was–” He shook his head no, much too kind, kinder than you deserved, and you pushed through.

“No, let me say it. I’m sorry about how I treated you - I was horrible.”

“You weren’t that bad.”

“Yes, I was, so spoiled and insensitive, I didn’t even give your situation a second thought. All I cared about was myself and I can’t even believe it now. I’m sorry. I’m really lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, one of his palms rubbing your back soothingly, “you’ve definitely had a big turnaround.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm playfully. “I’m lucky you’re here too. I would have been miserable by myself.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the simple comfort human touch could bring. “Not sure you would have ever agreed to go out with me had we not been stuck here together.”

His words were light, and for a moment, you wanted to protest, but you didn’t think you could, and it shamed you further.

“Oh god, what a moron I was.” You groaned, pressing your face into the warm skin of his neck.

“You weren’t a moron, maybe a little oblivious, and I don’t mean that in a cruel way. You and I are in very different circles. I doubt our paths would have even crossed, but I’m glad they did because as much as you have the power to drive me nuts, I really like you.” His hands continued their comforting sweep across your skin, lulling you into the most relaxed state you could remember being in, in a long time.

“I would have been an idiot to not give you a chance. You’re so sweet and smart, and so strong, so fucking handsome, too. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you have done your best to keep us both safe and sound and I’m just - I’m ashamed that maybe in the past I would have been too shallow and stuck up to notice.” The storm abates as you confess some feelings you’d been harboring.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think I probably would have dismissed you just as quickly for similarly shallow reasons. As gorgeous as you are, I most likely would have written you off as some rich trust fund-baby.” He half-shrugged.

“I’m still sorry. It’s because of me that we’re here.”

“I could have said no.”

“I pressured you with money. I pushed even though you’d said it was unsafe.”

“I still could have said no. Let’s just forget it all, everything that happened before we got here. Point is we’re here, and we have to keep it together until someone finds us.” His hand kept its rhythm, sweeping over any and all skin, casting its spell of comfort until both it and the storm lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

-----

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier au #frankie x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales

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schwarzkatje · 23 days

Text

dark!orphan!ellie x nun!reader || part 3

disclaimer: alright, i'm just gonna say that this is filth in its original form aka contains SMUT that is immoral; offensive to religion if you believe and/or practice the religion implied here; it deals with power dynamics between an educational figure and a supposed pupil even though it has no age gap warning since they are basically the same age; it has violence in the form of slapping; it shows both ellie AND reader being dark characters with questionable morals. so if ANY of this triggers you, i prefer you skip for my but mostly your sake. also, not proofread srry

> for part 1 click here || for part 2 click here

"admit it, you act like a brat all the fucking time because you love it when you get punished," never in a million years would you have thought these words would have exited your mouth. nor would you have entertained the idea of breaking your vows because of something so futile like losing your temper.

except what was happening was proof of how delusional your beliefs and how fragile the rope you were walking on had both been. more specifically what was happening underneath you.

you were straddling ellie, the heels of her feet planted on the mattress and her thighs spread to accommodate your hand as it furiously flicked her pulsating clit and the outer zones of her pussy, drenched in white slick.

the other hand was feigning in her task to handcuff ellie's wrists, as it bore no real force nor did it occur to you that she could break free whenever she decided. you simply ignored it, too drunk off of nothing but a ravaging and ravenous hallucination of retribution. ellie had brought an earthquake inside you, causing casualties in the process, namely what you stood for, the light in your eyes and the faith towards god. in a regained moment of lucidity you could have recognised you were turning into the reflection of ellie's sufferings.

and god, wasn't she willing to dance this macabre tango with you and accept the pleasure that was making her delirious. her hips thrusted up, closer to your fingers, imagining they were your pussy humping her own, riding her in this exact same position that naive you had thought to be a cage for ellie.

"don't lie, you're too – fuck yeah – you're way too good at this. do you fuck the other sisters, when you are done tormenting me, mh?" the contorted expression was the perfect mask to hide the trail of jealousy implied in such an insisting enquiry and to distract from the fact that her eyes would have rolled back to her skull hadn't she been more lucid. "do you suck the pastor's cock when he comes to visit, too?"

"you wish. you wish i had so your fantasies about me get more realistic, don't you?" both your middle and ring finger were exploring the outer region of ellie's intoxicatingly warm hole, with such a slow pace that ellie feared you would stop at any time.

only one hour prior to this enactment of pure debauchery you were busing your mind with paperwork, locked in your room, locked away from ellie. you hadn't planned this.

the exact way you hadn't planned to abandon your dummy remnants of resolution as you let ellie enter your quarters. the exact way you hadn't planned to fight for the umpteenth time knowing it would have resulted in ulterior mortification for you. the exact way you hadn't planned to slap her. for the second time. completely throwing away the memory of ellie promising to make you pay for this the first time you had done it. except, ellie too had seemed to have forgotten all about this threat.

"do it again," ellie had been prompting you, daring you to do it, if not for the fact that she had trapped your wrist, actually impeding the fulfilment of what was acquiring the shape of a wish trough and through. her superior strength had proven a perfect feature to yank your entire body closer to her.

your other hand was holding the bible and you reckoned that once you had dropped it, it would have meant bending irremediably, to the point of breaking, in favour of the evil pulling that had been dancing around you throughout your entire life.

the deaf thud of the sacred text hitting the floor had rivalled with the same echoed sound of ellie's cheek getting slapped once again. the capillaries were fast breaking and the warm sensation over the beaten skin sat rather uncomfortable. not so much so as to hinder the devilish grin that ellie had no shame in sporting.

"at least now you're dropping the act of the prissy nun thinking she's better than everyone," her raspy voice had become lower, almost inaudible. but as subtle – and therefore armless – as it may have seemed, its ability to insinuate just as venom does, with blind cruelty, hadn't left space for mercy. "beating me like the other sisters when you faked compassion the moment they did it to me."

the whole context hadn't given you the chance to develop not even a semblance of pity towards ellie. no, it couldn't have found it in the midst of the scorching flames hell that was engulfing your guts. "you deserve every punishment they gave you. my only mistake was thinking you could gain god's forgiveness," you had inched closer to ellie, mimicking, without having full control over it, her tone and setting a twisted game with the loser's destruction as the prize.

"i'm yet to see how you discipline your bad kids," ellie had taken your free hand, the one responsible for the red heat spreading on half of her face, had brought it closer to her chipped lips, "since you're a sick pervert, i imagine you make them do sick shit as well. what is it? spanking? making them kneel down to eat your pussy?" the last bit of her degrading speech had been accompanied by the wet noise of her saliva coating your thumb and your thumb pressing as though it had had life of its own down ellie's tongue.

"want me to show it to you?" it must have been the devil himself that had smelt how deliciously sinfully your soul was accepting to delve into a grave without possibility to repent. everything had been lost.

"fuck– fucking slut knows hot to– oh man—," that was the agonised prize that your fingers entering ellie and pumping with no care in the world inside her pussy had won for you. there was a spot under ellie, a combination of her own cum and the saliva you had spat on your hand because depravity was the puppeteer moving and angling your strings, and you, brainless and unable to feel shame, followed along, being the only purpose of your tainted existence.

you were becoming obsessed with that sight, your pussy had long started to grind on ellie's stomach, lifting more and more of her black shirt, revealing the toned muscles that helped the friction you were ready to sell your soul to encounter.

fitting a third finger inside ellie, you moaned as though you were the one being penetrated. your teeth were munching your lower lip as a manner to deal with the inexplicable pleasure you were both giving and experiencing. like the previous things, you definitely hadn't planned not only to do this, but to enjoy it as much as an animal in heat would have.

ellie decided she had had enough and pulled her hands out of the pathetic cage that was your numb digits, reckoning they would be of more use gripping the soft flesh of your hips and helping you cover her navel with more your intoxicating precum.

"why can't you always be this obedient? why can't you be a good girl?" your now free hand found a new grip in your own hair, all while indulging in ellie's silent desire to hump harder above her. which meant automatically increasing the speed with which your fingers were claiming her fucked out hole.

ellie sobbed at your words, reading them as indirect praise, the affirmation that like a madwoman she had been searching her all life, the affirmation that frustrated her so much it made her into the shadow of herself.

"oh god please– please, forgive me... oh god, ellie– don't stop..." came out corrupted beyond salvation, tainted by your tears of pleasure and the chocked scream of the most mind numbing orgasm you have ever had, fearing your brain would never recover its sanity.

if you had been captured by the image of ellie, fucked out on the bed where you sleep, ellie too had endured a sight of her own that pushed its limit with you coming on her. it happened during the first second of your high, for this reason you understood that ellie had flipped both of you over, so that now she was between your legs, only when your clothed core met ellie's naked one.

she was humping you like you had been humping her, only with more domineering force due to the position you were in. ellie had her own release in mind and nothing else. there was only the heat stuck in her belly finally exploding with spikes making different parts of her body convulse in quick succession.

the ache of your pussy was no match to the fuelling sensation of having ellie take you like this, using you for her own pleasure after you doing the same to her, putting you in a subordinate position to have full control of what to do to you. "e-ellie come, please come," you begged and pathetically tried to confirm what you wanted by holding ellie's ass to deepen her movements.

she, on the other hand, couldn't resist any longer and with a last thrust she halted flush against you, mere centimetres away from your lips, your legs spread impossibly wide with the only intention of providing ellie with the best position to let go of her built up arousal.

her face had somewhat softened, not taking into account the frown on her forehead, her eyebrows knitted in a desperate expression, almost confused by the force with which her orgasm had deprived her of the characteristic vulgarity and witty behaviour.

she looked... vulnerable. and her lips looked so ready to be kissed and maybe even bitten or sucked. but the delirious feeling of the orgasm had wore off completely by then and anger for a further loss in dignity was covering the entirety of your thoughts. you weren't going to show any more of what you had already done.

you pushed her away, shivering in cold once her body left yours and as quickly as your trembling legs permitted you, you sat on the edge of your bed. facing away from ellie who was waiting for your next move.

"get the fuck out of my room," and with that, a deafening noise produced by the slamming of your wooden door was all was left for you to hear.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie x you #the last of us smut #dark ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou

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moonlightpetalz6 · 8 months

Text

When You're Gone (Part 2)

Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso

Reader: Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, readers death, violence, blood, swearing, pet names, fire

Context: The reader ends up dying due to sorcerers, and villagers. This is their reaction after you are gone. (Witch!reader for Sukuna)

Word Count: 4,677

a/n: Sorry this took a bit to post! I really got into writing these three!

Part 1

______________________________________________________________

Toji

Toji sighed as he walked into the abandoned building where he was supposed to meet with Shiu. 'What a pain.' Toji thought, interested in something other than what Shiu had to discuss with him. Toji was considering skipping the meeting altogether if it wasn't for you. Toji smirked at the thought of your shy smile, ready to hear your sweet voice scold him for zoning out while your colleague was trying to discuss business with him. The memory brings a slight chuckle to his throat as he places a hand behind his neck, letting out a loud yawn as he notices Shiu standing there. Alone.

Toji hums, stopping a few paces in front of the detective. "Hm? What, did little Miss Tiger decide to skip out on us today?" He teased, knowing you hated the nickname he had assigned you due to your stern personality. Shiu just stared at the assassin with a sad look as he sighed deeply, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "That's actually why I called you out today…." He tossed the cigarette on the ground, Toji watching as he stomped it with his foot. "As of three days ago, Y/l/n Y/n was killed in her home by a wanted sorcerer she had was assigned to," Shiu said while making direct eye contact with Toji.

"What?" Toji asked, his eyes narrowing as a frown adorned his face. Shiu just sighed, knowing that Toji didn't believe his words. "Y/l/n Y/n is dead." Toji's fists clenched as he went and roughly grabbed Shiu by the collar, his face inches from the detectives. "Quit yer fucking bullshit and tell me the truth. Cause I ain't finding this joke funny." Toji growled, his neck flexing as a vein appeared on his right temple. Shiu didn't back down as he stared at Toji with serious eyes. Toji clicks his tongue as he tosses Shiu away before turning on his heel to leave the building. "Fushiguro!" Shiu called out, not having finished everything he wanted to say to the assassin. Toji ignored him as he pulled his phone out angrily, dialing your number and pressing it to his ear, waiting for your voice to pick up on the other end.

The number you have dialed is not available; please-

Toji cursed quickly, hanging up the phone as he continued to call your number multiple times. "Fucking brat answer the phone." He hissed, walking past numerous people on the streets. Just as Toji was about to call you again, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face from the corner of his eye. Toji stopped in place, his phone now resting at his side still open as he stared at the TV inside a small store. There was a news channel with a small picture of you with the caption, 'Local woman found dead in her apartment. Cause of death: a giant hole through the chest.' Toji's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Once your picture was no longer on the screen, Toji cursed to himself as he quickly returned home. Once home, Toji slammed the door as hard as he could, not even bothering to turn on the lights before throwing everything in his line of sight, trashing his apartment as he yelled multiple curses.

_____

Days have passed since Toji was hit with the news of your horrible death. Your funeral was two days later, but Toji never went. He refused, thinking that if he went and saw your name on one of those damned stones, every person he came in contact with would be killed on sight. It wasn't like the two of you had been dating for long, about a year, to be exact. Toji had many girlfriends and flings before meeting you, so he never cared when they would turn up missing or disappear without anyone knowing. However, when it came to you, it was different. What Toji felt for you was similar to when he lost his wife.

Toji sat on the floor of his apartment; broken items littered the room as the lights remained off. A slight glow lit up the room as Toji saw his phone ringing. He lifted it to see Shiu's contact appear on the screen. Growling in annoyance, he flipped the phone on, pressing it to his ear. "What?" He snapped his voice slightly horse from having yelled so much before. "You sound awful. Have you been taking care of yourself at all?" Toji groans as he presses his thumb and pointer finger to his eyes. He applies pressure as he rubs them, feeling how tired his eyelids are as the dark circles slightly appear from the phone's light. "Get to the point. I'm in no mood." He grumbled while pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

"You weren't at Y/n's funeral." Shiu was blunt and to the point, causing Toji to grunt as he placed the stick between his lips. "So what? I don't need to make an appearance around people who I never fucking saw once around her." He spat while patting his pockets to find his lighter. It wasn't entirely an excuse. When Toji and you started dating, he had never met anyone who claimed to care for you. Shiu didn't say anything momentarily, causing Toji to furrow his brows in annoyance. "Anything else?" He growled, not wanting to be on the phone any longer. "We're still looking for the man who killed her. I promise Toji he will be found and punished." Shiu claimed with total confidence. Toji's eyes narrowed as he listened to those words; scoffing, he tried lighting the cigarette. "Oh, you're damn right he will be…. I'm going to fucking kill him. That's my promise." Before Shiu can say anything else, Toji hangs up, tossing the phone randomly.

Toji sits there; brows furrowed in annoyance as he flicks at the lighter, growing increasingly agitated with it not working. "Tch. Fucking useless-!" Toji goes to throw the lighter but stops when he notices what one is in his hand. He freezes, staring at the small item, remembering when you had given it to him as a gift.

____

You and Toji were out discussing business when it suddenly started to rain down, causing the two of you to get soaked as you ran for cover. The two of you sigh as you watch the rain fall from where you now stand, soaking wet. "Geez! The forecast said nothing about rain!" You whined angrily, scrolling through your phone as you double-checked the weather. Toji grunted as he ran a hand through his hair, watching the water droplets fly off. "I should've packed an umbrella…." You whispered in thought, brows furrowed, a slight pout on your lips. Toji internally chuckled, finding your expressions amusing.

You were always frowning or having some angry tick whenever something didn't go as planned, or you would get mad, which caused him to love teasing you every chance he could. "Well~ well~ it looks like miss organized and plans ahead failed once again~" He teased, a sly grin on his face as he went and pulled out a cigarette. You looked at him, eye twitching as he placed it between his lips. He looks down at you curiously before grinning, one brow raised. "Got something to say, tiger?" He questioned, raising his lighter. You click your tongue, looking away from him. "As if I would have anything to say to such a rude man!" You scoffed, earning a chuckle.

It went silent between the two of you. The only sounds heard were the falling rain and the clicking of Toji's lighter. You glanced up, noticing the annoyed look on the taller man's face as he grunted, trying to get it to light. The two of you stood like that momentarily before you thought of something. “One moment, Fushiguro! I'll be right back!" You announced suddenly, running to the convenience store across the street. Toji stood there, confused momentarily, before trying the lighter again. After a few more tries, he curses, tossing the small contraption to the ground and taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

He watches the convenience store waiting for your small form to appear in the doors. When you finally come out, he takes notice of the umbrella in your hand as You quickly run across the street, standing in front of him again. You look at him, a small pant leaving your lips as you hold your fist out to him. He looks at you curiously but complies, holding one of his giant hands out for you. You place the lighter in his hand, surprising him with the sudden gesture. "You didn't have to do that tiger." He mumbled but still went and used the lighter for his cigarette, nodding in approval.

You just laughed, placing a hand behind your neck as you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Well, consider it as my apology gift to you!" You laughed shyly. "Apology? For what?" He mumbled, leaning back against the building under which you both had taken shelter. You just smiled a bright smile, a blush coating your cheeks as you held a finger up to your lips as if telling him not to spill a secret.

"For forming a crush on you of course!"

_____

Toji sat there, eyes covered by his messy bangs as he gripped the lighter. "Damn tiger…" He cursed as he forcefully tried to flick the lighter on again, this time not stopping as his body began to shake. “Fuck Y/n….” He looked up with tears running down his face as he bit the cigarette as hard as he could.

"Come back and declare your love for me over and over again, dammit."

Sukuna

You were known as the witch of the woods. No one entered those woods fearing being cursed or killed in horrible, gruesome ways. However, that was far from the truth, as you were a sweet and docile woman who only wished to heal and create with your magic. You and Sukuna had first met when he had entered the woods in search of your magical abilities. When he showed up at your small hut in the woods, you were surprised, not by his fearful appearance but by his giant wound in his side, causing immense amounts of blood to gush out. Sukuna watched you quickly drop the items you were holding as you ran to him, your small frame inches from his intimidating one. He flinched as you placed your tiny hands around the wounded area, eyes scanning the injury with deep concentration.

Sukuna frowned at you, not liking how you didn't cower in his presence or even acknowledge his fearful appearance. He roughly grabbed your hand with one of his own, pulling it up so you were forced to look up at his face, each eye holding a murderous glare. "Oi, pitiful witch of the woods. Who do you think you are to approach me like this?" He hissed, a voice filled with venom. You just looked at his eyes, showing no fear as you said nothing. You went and placed a hand on his wound, chanting in a language he was not familiar with.

Sukuna watched as the wound healed faster than he could regenerate it. He hummed in amusement while looking down at you with a dark smirk. You just looked at him, your aura tense and powerful. "I am not afraid of curses." You declared a voice so elegant it made his ears ring. He laughed loudly, causing you to flinch at the sudden noise covering one of your ears in pain. Sukuna pulls you closer to him, faces inches apart as he looks at you with a deranged smile. "You're such an amusing witch of the woods…. It makes me want to play with you more before ending your pathetic and weak life." He laughed, looking deep into your eyes.

Sukuna became enthralled by your talents, watching you cast spells he didn't know or ever heard of. You taught him some of the magic you knew over time, informing him of the repercussions of some of the spells. He would listen carefully, wanting to know everything if it meant his chances of gaining even more power. The two of you were complete opposites, so it was strange how you became so close. You never understood why a man filled with nothing but murderous and selfish intent could ever want with someone like you who wished for peace and never had any selfish desire.

"We don't share much in common, do we?" Sukuna grunted one day when the two of you sat outside. You looked at him, tilting your head as you continued to mix some herbs for a new medicine you were working on. "You're just realizing this now, Sukuna-san." Your laugh was so soft that it made Sukuna feel a tingle in his chest. "Tch. Do you finally want to die?" He grumbled, giving you a slight glare as he flicked your forehead, his other arms crossed over his chest while the fourth one scratched the back of his head. You whine as you hold your forehead, a giant pout on your face. "So weak." He teased, "Like I said, not much in common." He shrugged, looking away from you to stare at the setting sun.

"Indeed, we don't share much in common, but….there is one thing we will have until the day comes when we die." You whispered while placing a hand out towards the setting sun with a sad look on your face. "Oh? And what would that be?" Sukuna hummed, interested in your words, as he glanced down at you in wonder. Though small, Sukuna could see the sad and lonely smile on your lips. "The world'll hate us…never to be accepted for what we are." Your words took a moment to sink in for Sukuna. He hummed, his expression unreadable.

Suddenly, he was placing both his right arms towards the sunset like you. "Even if that's true… I'll always accept you for what you are." He mumbled. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, lips slightly parted. He made no effort to look at you as his eyes stayed fixed on the changing colors in the sky. "Sukuna-san…" you felt your heart racing as heat started to sneak onto your face. Suddenly, he looked at you with an annoyed look, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance as he went and hit your head. "Also, who the hell do you think will be dying?! Damn stupid witch!" He yelled, causing you to cry while he just shoved the herbs you had been mixing down your throat.

_______

The king of curses couldn't believe his eyes and ears as he stood in place, body in complete shock. Down below him was a village just outside the woods he had grown to call home. There, in the center of said village, stood a huge crowd of angry and fearful villagers, each one cheering or chanting multiple curses into the air as they looked at the giant fire that rose into the sky, turning the once beautiful sunset view into a clouded gray sky. However, it wasn't the villagers that were causing the fear in Sukuna's heart and soul. Oh no. It was the screams of his lover, whose shadow was seen thrashing within the flames tied to a giant pole.

"Stop it! Please! What did I do wrong?! Please tell me!" You cried from the flames. Sukuna's fists started dripping blood as all the blood vessels in each of his eyes burst. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You apologized to the villagers who relished in your pain and your suffering. He was seeing red. Before anyone could process anything, Sukuna was brutally murdering every one of the villagers, ensuring they didn't die without immense pain. His shouts and feral laughter were the last thing to curse their ears. Soon, the village was nothing more than a blood bath. Sukuna stood there, blood dripping from every part of his body as he looked down at the burnt body in front of him.

He doesn't say anything as he kneels carefully, picking up your body with all four arms staying there, making sure your body is as close as possible to his as he grits his teeth before screaming into the sky cursing the entire world.

_____

"Hey Sukuna, do you believe in soulmates?" You asked while reading from that mysterious book of yours. "Huh? Soulmates? I know I joke about you being stupid but I'm starting to think that you really are." He said, looking at you annoyed. You frown at him going and whispering a small spell, causing the tea he was drinking to spray up while he went to take a sip. You stand there, mouth covered with one hand, trying to hold your laughs back.

Meanwhile, Sukuna gave you the most sadistic look you could ever imagine, tea dripping from his face. "Y/n~" He sang in a deadly tune. You cringe as you cower in the corner, waving your hands in front of you frantically.

"SUKUNA IT WAS A JOKE!" You cried while he stood there cracking his knuckles, a dark aura surrounding him. "I just wanted to see if you would help me with this old spell I found!" You squealed, bracing yourself for what was to come. When nothing happened, you peeked from behind your fingers. "Eh?" You asked confused. Sukuna just stood there looking down at you with a curious expression. "An old spell?" He questioned, bending down to your height and tilting his head in thought. "About soulmates?" You nod "mhm!" "You want to see if we're soulmates?" You nod proudly, arms crossed over your chest. Sukuna smirks as he watches his words slowly process for you. A deep blush covers your cheeks as you stammer over your words, trying to defend yourself while he laughs, finding the situation amusing. He rests his head on one of his fists as he crouches before you. "Then do it." He said, a cocky smirk on his face. "I wanna see…if you're my soulmate witch of the woods." You blushed tears from embarrassment in the corners of your eyes as you looked away quickly, getting everything you needed for the spell. Sukuna didn't move; he just stayed in place, watching you place all the items in front of him before sitting on the other side.

"Okay! Ready?" You ask, a shy smile on your face. Sukuna hums, holding an arm out as he pricks some skin, watching the drop of blood fall into the bowl. You carefully do the same thing, neither of you saying a word. "How will we know?" He mumbles, not looking away from the bowl. "According to the spell, if you're soulmates, then both of you will suddenly have-!" You stop noticing the black tattoos form on your wrists along with others. You quickly looked up at Sukuna, seeing the same thing happen to him, only his markings were slightly different. The two of you stare at each other in shock. "...markings…" You whispered, a slight blush on your cheeks. Sukuna stares at you, eyes still slightly wide, before kissing you deeply.

You squeak, feeling his hands start to feel up and down your body, not in a lustful way but in what feels like a devoted one. "My soulmate…my witch of the woods…your soul belongs only to me." He whispered, kissing up your neck before reaching your lips. You just giggled while placing your hand on his cheek, a soft smile on your face. "Sukuna-san…thank you for allowing me your soul… it's my greatest treasure."

______

"OI! SUKUNA!" Sukuna slowly opened his eyes, staring at the bottom of his throne. 'Ah, that's right…the kid is crying about helping that damn friend of his…tch. Not my fault he got his soul changed.' Sukuna thought, uninterested in what Yuji yelled at him. He just sighed before noticing a small tear falling from his eye. He swipes it away while looking at the markings on his wrist. He smiled a small smile, something that no one in the world would ever see besides one person, and she was gone. Sukuna placed a gentle kiss on the tattoos.

"My soul yearns for you my Queen…my soul…one that only you can have and touch…my Y/n…"

Choso

Choso fell against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the flower, eyes wide in shock. His mouth opened to scream, cry, yell, but nothing came out. He grips both sides of his head and slowly shakes it before squeezing his eyes shut, the tears appearing to get worse. Choso opens his eyes, glancing to his left to see the broken pieces of what was once a cursed item that informed him of your well-being. The two of you decided to get them when Choso started to fear for your safety after the deaths of his two younger brothers. He remembers your gentle smile as you happily agreed to his request, telling him you would do anything to ensure his mind was at ease.

When he processed the broken pieces once again, signaling that you were no longer in this world with him, Choso snapped, his eyes practically rolling back as he screamed until it felt like his lungs would tear from his chest. "Why?! Why?! I don't understand why she was only gone for two days!" He screamed to himself while rolling around on the floor like a madman, the tears never-ending. First, his brothers and now his lover, all three gone from his side within a blink. "How could I fail to protect my family?!" Choso felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his face, tiny beads of blood appearing here and there. "Y/n! Y/n!" Choso reached for the broken pieces, his body soon becoming still as he grits his teeth, his eyes leaking tears.

"My beautiful sweet bleeding heart…tell me it's a lie…you said you would be right back by my side." Choso sobbed as he held the broken cursed object to his chest while staring at the night sky. Choso's mind runs wild as he asks himself so many questions about your death. 'Was she scared? Did she suffer? Was it peaceful? Did they torture you? Did you cry? Smile? Were you lonely? Did you wish for him to save you?' all these thoughts ran through his head as he cried into the night. After some time, Choso quieted down, slowly rising to his feet as he stomped to his family's home, your home, no, to his home. He said nothing, his eyes void of any light as he lifted his head to the sky like a zombie, watching as snow started to fall. 'It's so cold tonight, Y/n….' He thought his hand subconsciously opened as if ready to take another's smaller one.

_______

"Choso! Can I have a hug?!" You cheered, standing before your cursed boyfriend with a giant smile as you held your arms wide open. Choso just looked at you from his seat, tilting his head in confusion. "But didn't I just give you one five minutes ago?" he asked, not understanding why you wanted another one. You smile at him, slightly jumping in your step as you lean forward, arms still open, awaiting his embrace. "So?! What if I want to hug you every five minutes? You hurt me, my blood lotus." you whispered a slight pout on your cheeks. Choso flinches as he quickly goes and wraps you in his loving embrace. "I could never dream of such a thing. Me? Hurt you? I would rather die my bleeding heart." He whispers while inhaling the smell of your shampoo you knew he loved.

"I love everything about you, my sweet flower." he caressed your cheek, a tiny blush on his cheeks as he avoided eye contact, still too embarrassed. You just giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck when he went to pull away from the hug. You hum, pressing your forehead to his as you force him to look into your eyes. You smile, eyes as bright as the day he met you. "Your eyes are so beautiful…" You whispered, gently placing the pads of your thumbs onto his dark circles, giving a small massage to the flesh. Choso lets out a small moan of approval as he carefully caresses one of your wrists with his fingers barely grazing your skin. "My bleeding heart…" You watched as Choso placed tender kisses on your wrist, his eyes glancing at you with much love and admiration.

"Does this makeup for me hurting you earlier? Or do you wish for more?" He whispered, his thumb slowly dragging down your bottom lip, causing you to blush at his sudden boldness as you quickly jumped away, hiding your face. "T-that's perfectly fine! I'm already way better! I promise!" You stumble over your words, causing a gentle smile to caress Choso's face. "I adore you." He whispered honestly. "I-I get it!" you cried, covering his mouth with your hands. He laughs, loving how cute you are being. Choso pushes back a strand of your hair once you remove your hands from his mouth. "There's just one thing I'll never understand," he confessed, ensuring that you looked presentable when you had to go outside on your next assignment. "Hm? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head as you interlocked your fingers with his. "This," he confessed, gesturing to your hands holding one another.

"You always want to hug or touch me in some way almost every second of the day. I am not complaining, of course…as I love you and…" he trailed off, growing shy at his words before clearing his throat. "I guess I just don't get why that is all." He admitted with a slight nod. You hum a smile as you lean back slightly, tilting your head to the side, eyes closed in thought. "Well…I guess it's because…for me I feel like if I don't keep touching you, you'll disappear from my side forever. So I want to ensure you're still with me in this world, Choso." You confessed this time using his name instead of your chosen nickname for him. Choso blushes before smiling as he lets out a tiny laugh while going to ruffle your hair.

"Haha! You're so silly! I'll really never understand you Y/n." he confessed lovingly. You just looked up at him with your biggest smile, a deep blush on your cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you so, so much my bloody Lotus!" You cheered, and Choso could practically see just how pure and true your love for him was while looking into your eyes.

_______

Choso stood in the doorway of your once-shared bedroom. His drained facial expression scanned the entire area, ensuring he took everything in, wanting to remember this room with all your shared belongings for the rest of his life. Choso lays down on the shared bed, making sure he curls up into a bawl as he shakily reaches for your pillow and your side of the blanket, bringing both pieces of fabric next to him, squeezing like they, too, would vanish from his grasp. Choso inhales your scent, tears falling from his face, drenching your once favorite pillow as he shoves his face into it, not wanting to forget your smell once it no longer remains in the place you two called home.

"I wish you were here, my bleeding heart…I want to feel you next to me…I need you next to me." Choso cries, his entire body shaking as his mind fails to accept what has happened. Guilt soon fills his heart as he lets out a heart-wrenched sob, squeezing his eyes closed. "I'm sorry I didn't always hug and touch you whenever you were near me…maybe if I did…would you not have disappeared from my side Y/n? Are you gone because of me?"

______________________________________________________________

A/n: I hope you all enjoyed part 2! I can't wait to create more for you all!

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gezelligs-world · 8 months

Text

Moments With You (Pt.1)

(Bada Lee x Fem!Reader)

Warning: NSFW

MOMENT 1

It's past midnight already but you're still working on a specific report on your laptop. You heard Bada getting up at your shared bed and hugging you from behind.

"When will you finish? It's already morning." Bada said, eyeing the report you're making.

"I'm almost done Sweetface. Go to sleep, you have class tomorrow." You replied, caressing her hair for a short period of time and went back to typing again. Bada whispered at the loss of warmth. She slammed your laptop making you glare at her.

"Do you know how expensive Macbook is these days— Hey!" You yelped when Bada picked you up in bridal style.

"Hey woman! I need to finish that report!" Bada put you down on the bed and covered your figures with a duvet.

"Young lady, it's already 3 in the morning. I don't take 'no' for an answer." She cuddled you on her chest and closed her eyes. You huffed in response.

"Jerk." You whispered.

"I heard that." Bada said, tightening her grip around you.

MOMENT 2

You have a day off and decided to use it today. You're watching episode 5 of Street Woman Fighter 2 at yours and Bada's shared penthouse. You're at the part where the other crews choose BEBE as the most likely to get eliminated. You don't hate the other crews, you understand that it's a competition and they need to be fair when it comes to choosing. You hear your phone rang and you already know who it is.

"Did you watch episode 5? I heard it already got aired." Bada asked but you know she's dissapointed at herself deep inside.

"Want me to cook you your favorite meal?" You asked. You can hear silent sniffs but you stay silent.

"Yes...yes please. I also want hugs and kisses" Bada whispered.

"Alright alright, drive safe." You hung up the phone and went to the kitchen to prepare the ingredients.

Hours later, you heard the door open. Bada is home. You heard footsteps approaching your figure and two arms wrapping around your waist.

"Sorry I took too long, the traffic is worse today." Bada murmured against your neck, putting a couple of pecks there.

"It's alright." There's a minute of silence until you decide to speak again.

"Are you alright now?" You asked.

"When I was at the set? No. But now that I'm home, I'm feeling much better." You smiled at her response.

"That's good to hear." You replied, caressing her cheek.

"You are what you are. Don't let others opinions define you." You whispered, kissing her under her left eye.

MOMENT 3

"No." You said sitting with your arms crossed, staring at Bada with a stern face. Bada looked at you with her puppy(wolf) eyes.

"Please? I saw it at the store and immediately thought of you." You looked at the dress again and then at Bada. It's a wine-colored satin dress with a slit on the right side.

"I thought you don't like me wearing dresses?" You asked.

"I love seeing you in dresses Bae, I just don't like the boys staring at you. However, it's just me that will get to see you in this dress so I have no problem." You sighed. You took the dress and went to your shared bedroom to change.

You went out of your bedroom and saw Bada sitting on the coach, patiently waiting. When she heard heels clicking, which she also bought for you, she looked up and paused for a while.

"You okay there, Sweetface?" You asked. Bada motioned you to come closer to her and wrap her arms around your waist.

"You're breathtaking." She whispered, putting her chin on your tummy and looked up at you.

"You say that to me everyday." You chuckled, caressing her hair.

"It's true." She replied, pulling your arms towards her, making you strangle on her lap.

Bada leaned in and kissed you with so much affection with her arms wrapped around you. She began to kiss your neck to your collarbone making you hitch your breath.

"I'm not done yet." Bada said, unbuttoning her polo.

She lays you down on the couch and removes your heels while staring at you with a smirk. She hovered above you and began to kiss you again.

MOMENT 4

You woke up in the middle of the night, no longer feeling Bada's arms around you. You looked towards the window and saw Bada standing there with a robe on, admiring the silent city beneath your penthouse. You grab the duvet and wrap it around your body. You approach her and hug her from behind.

"It's late, why are you still up?" You asked.

"Just woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep anymore." Bada responded. She put her arm around your shoulders and both of you admired your surroundings.

"I'm so lucky to have you." Bada said, looking at you with so much love.

"Same as I." You smiled and put your head on her chest.

"What if I didn't get to meet you?" Bada stared down at you, waiting for your answer.

"Maybe you and Howl will be the one dating instead of me." You joked but Bada took it seriously.

"Bae, Howl knows that I'm into girls. And no one ever caught my attention at one glance except for you." You rolled your eyes at her statement.

"Since when did you become so cheesy." You replied, tickling her sides.

"Only for you Bae— Stop that tickles!"

MOMENT 5

"Looking pretty, Sweetface." You said, filming Bada while she's getting her makeup done. You visited Bada during the filming of 'Smoke' for the Class Mission.

"Stop it, we're in public." You laughed at Bada's blushing face. The makeup artist also joining in.

"I saw the other leaders makeup, they look so creepy." You jokingly said, making Bada laugh.

"Is it really?" You nodded.

Bada stood up and went to the rack where the clothes is hanged. She grab two outfits and stood in front of you.

"This or this?" You analyze the outfit carefully.

"This outfit and use this bandana." You answered. Bada nodded and went to change. Couple of minutes later, Bada went out with her outfit. You approached her while smiling in satisfaction, fixing the bandana on her head.

"You look handsomely stunning." Bada chuckled and pecked your lips when the makeup artist is not looking.

"You can go outside to check the filming or rest there at the couch." Bada reminded you as she opened the door. She paused for a while and turned to you.

"I love you." She immediately closed the door leaving you chuckling.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #spotify #bada lee x y/n #cute #w/w romance #gxg imagine #Spotify #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee swf2 #swf2

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kaznejis · 10 months

Text

Public display- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part 1 - Public Affair

Word Count- 6012

A/N- The support for Part 1 was honestly overwhelming- I did have initial plans for a part 2 though did not expect that many people to be interested! From me to you, enjoy this sequel packed with angst, fluff and action. Thank you ;)

Monaco, six months earlier.

“Records state that our friend over at Hydra owns this hotel,” Natasha mumbled beside you, her head bowed low and red-waves loose beneath a wide sun hat; complimented by a long, strapless designer dress, as commissioned by Tony. The two of you were the staple of the average residents of Monte Carlo, having essentially raided every designer outlet in the area. High-end cars rumbled throughout the street as heiress after heiress graced the steps of the grand hotel before you.

“I’m pretty sure he also owns three other hotels on this stretch.” you snorted, Squinting up at the large, stained-glass windows of the hotel; the click of heeled boots and the spray of dancing water created a mirage of noise around you. The area was the opitimy of money; whilst you had flown in on a private jet- once again, courtesy of Tony- you felt like a fraud, your disguise almost see-through to the ancient, traditional blood of manicures and snobbery surrounding you.

“We suspect he’s funded the majority of the Hydra operations that have been appearing over the last couple of years,” Steve grumbled over the comms, the pant of his breath evident as he paused to speak, “If we can take him down- Hydra will have lost their biggest investor.”

“It’s not an end to an all, but it’s definitely something,” Natasha replied; her voice a constant mumble beside you, ever playing the role of an undercover spy perfectly. Natasha remained the constant, solid force in missions; always watching your back, always giving her all. You found yourself constantly following her footsteps in more circumstances than one. Looking to her for guidance.

“Me and Steve are nearing the South entrance,” Bucky’s voice rumbled through the comms, your other guiding force entering the picture. Bucky’s strength and resilience and love tended to bleed into you, etching your soul and adding even the slightest element of care to every move you make. Every punch, every throw, every beating- Bucky was ever prevalent in your mind. He had gripped your hands and face and waist in the privacy of the back of Tony’s jet- inhaling your scent and ingraining it into his memory as he had told you to be strong, be safe, be vigilant. Adoring, you had stared up at him; cradled his metal hand and nodded along- forcing him to vow that he would do the same as he implored you to do, “Everybody stick to the original plan- Y/N and Nat; you can advance to the front desk.”

Moving instantly, the two of you began to climb the steps to the entrance; feigning the image of two friends chattering, enjoying their holiday or returning from an early lunch. It didn’t matter what image you could create, as long as it was believed. Upon reaching the entrance, the doormen smiled at you, bowing graciously as they presented the open doors of the hotel’s entrance.

“Easily done,” You gritted out behind a grin, bowing your head thankfully towards the men, “Go to the reception and get as much intel as you can; I’m going up to the penthouse.”

“Y/N, are you sure?” Natasha turned to you then, her own saccharine smile gracing her features though her eyes remained down-turned with worry, “We can skip the intel and go together, take him down fast.”

Vehemently, you shook your head, grasping her hand and pleading with your eyes, “We need that proof Nat, without records we’ll have nothing but a suspicious murder to show for this mission- we need to know what the income for this place is being turned over towards.”

Natasha nodded reluctantly, “Be careful, okay?” her eyes closed for a moment as she allowed herself a breath before she departed from you, not allowing a second look as she strutted towards the desk where an unknowing, young male attendant awaited her. The perfect target. You set off towards the hotel’s corridors instantly, signs displaying a large quantity of numbers and different suite types directed the way as you explored the quiet corridors; the click of your heels the only sound present.

As you turned a corner on the second floor; two familiar figures jogged from the other end of the hallway. Smirking, you bowed your head- your own sunhat creating a guise over your features as you headed towards them. “Miss, miss?” Steve panted, slowing as him and Bucky reached you, “We recommend that you vacate this hallway there is a-”

You raised your head then, an eyebrow raised as you revealed yourself to the two, “Am I really that unrecognisable?”

As Steve stuttered, Bucky smirked as he approached your side- wrapping the metal arm around your waist and planting a kiss at the side of your face, to which Steve rolled his eyes and turned away, “Of course not Doll- Steve’s just in ‘Cap Mode’”

“Speaking of which.” Steve raised an eyebrow, moving to continue his pursuit.

“Of course,” Bucky mused, beginning to depart only to return to your side and lean towards your ear, “That dress looks amazing on you by the way, Doll.” He replicated your initial smirk, jogging backwards and throwing you a wink before turning to follow behind Steve- who had already disappeared around the hallways corner. You continued on your own departure then, affording him a final smile before continuing your climb towards the penthouse.

One foot in front of the other, over and over as you trailed the extensive halls of the hotel.

For the room regularly occupied as a safe house for one of Hydra’s most powerful assailants, the lock was surprisingly easy to crack. The twist of a hairpin and the slightest pressure did the job- the lock clicking as the door swayed, its brass hinges squeaking abrasively, the sound loud and grating in the silence of the hallway.

“I’m entering the lair,” you whispered into comms, loud enough for it to be heard throughout the ear pieces though quiet enough to deter detection from outside sources. A quick scan of the room told you that it was empty, though recently occupied- half-drank bottles of alcohol and cigarette stumps littered the table, complemented by the clothes strewn across the floor, “Give me five minutes.”

“Be careful, Y/N,” Steve replied, “Nat’s got the intel, we’re a few blocks from the hotel and all civilians have been cleared from the nearby areas. Tony has got eyes on the penthouse from above- see you in five.”

Double clicking the button attached to your ear piece- you affirmed that you had heard Steve’s words; silently confirming the start of your undercover exercise. Bypassing the mess within the entrance- you turned instantly to left; the plans that you had covered extensively highlighted that the office was to the left; gather evidence, wait for the suspect, kill the suspect, escape. It was a simple plan with simple steps- an exercise you’d done countless times, you could practically do this with your eyes closed.

The gathering of evidence was the easiest step- a range of highly confidential material lay open across the large mahogany desk within the office; letters, invoices, even bills for the hotel itself. Within no time you had snapped pictures of the most interesting aspects, though not before a piece of paper caught your eye. It was at the corner of the large pile of letters; sticking out almost intentionally, as if asking to be found. Pulling it from the pile, your heart dropped instantly as the words before you became clear.

The Avengers, America’s greatest heroes, have finally turned to you as their target. Their plan will be ever-predictable; the one feeling the most boisterous and courageous will most likely volunteer themselves to be sent up to your penthouse during one of your annual stays as the others split off into teams. A strategy that would work, if you didn’t have my intel on your side. Ensure that the area is cleared and that the evidence is obvious. Make it too easy for them.

I hope you will repay me for the assistance.

It was a trap. It had all been a trap, and you had fallen directly into it.

“Were you never taught not to snoop through someone else’s belongings?” A gruff voice sounded behind you, the click of a gun’s safety being turned off immediately following.

“What is this?” you gritted out, hands raised beside your head as you stared determinedly at the desk, “Who did this?”

“That’s none of your business, Sweetheart,” the man spoke, his tone laced with confidence, “Now- let’s do this the easy way, shall we? You’re going to come with me, tell me a little bit about this whole operation of yours and then we kill you. Understand?”

You turned then, hands still raised in the air as you refused to show any signs of fear towards the man- he stumbled slightly at your movement, the gun in his hand wavering as he was shocked at your own confidence as you looked the man directly in the eye; face impassive as ever. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” You gave the man no time to think as you immediately fell to your knees, rolling in between the man’s legs and slicing a cut into his thigh with the knife concealed into the thin sleeves of your dress, “All I can tell you about this operation, is that I’m here to kill you.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” The man turned instantly, firing two shots towards your legs; the sound of the bullets deafening at such close range- your trained, meticulous instincts only allowing you a split second to roll away- the momentum allowing you to unholster a gun at your thigh-holster. You stood instantly, the gun poised precisely between your hands as you aimed it at him. You clicked off the safety, aiming the gun and-

“Doll? Doll, were those gunshots you?” Bucky’s voice sounded through the comms, his voice tinged with worry- the plan had been to execute a clean, quiet kill; knife, poison, brute force. A gunshot did not come under the category of clean, quiet kill, setting off the alarms instantly, “Doll, we’re coming up there please answer me, please let-”

The falter you had offered at the sound of Bucky’s voice caused you to pause for too long, within no time the man had bowled into you, slamming your back into the wall and ripping the earpiece from your ear, dropping it to the ground and instantly crushing it beneath his boot. Shit.

“Now, we’re not going to do anymore playing around,” He growled into your face, his breath hot with anger against your cheeks and his arm barring you against the wall as you squirmed, “No more secret weapons, no more dancing around.” As he spoke, an entourage of armed men entered the room, an array of red pointers displayed against your chest. As the men entered, an explosion sounded nearby.

Tony, they had taken Tony down. The Iron Man had survived worse, of course- but there was little the team would be able to do for you now. You were grossly outnumbered. As panic began to numb your senses; the worry clouding your eyesight- the butt of a gun connected with your forehead; effectively knocking you out.

Three days, three days you were locked up in that basement. Another safe house, another dingy and dilapidated building occupied by the Hydra informants. Blood had dripped into your eyes as you hung from the wall- arms encased by chains and your lifeline hanging by a thread.

“Your little boyfriend isn’t coming to save you.” They had spat, phlegm splattering against your cheeks as they had laughed- laughed at the so-called ‘Avenger’ that they had tricked so easily. You hadn’t blamed them- you had felt foolish, like the naive child you had once been; too excited by a chance at finery, revenge. Vengeance for Bucky and Steve. It was only in the darkness of what could’ve been night, as evidenced by the lack of torture you were given during those hours, that you allowed yourself to cry. Cursing yourself and your stupidity.

You had wanted nothing but Bucky in those moments. Nothing but the intertwine of your legs under cold sheets and the tickle of his stubble against your skin; the giggles that it would garner from you as you begged him to stop. Every moment, every breath was spent thinking of Bucky. It was only when the sound of gunfire and a door crashing above you sounded that you felt like yourself again- the sound of familiar boots against the stone floor and the harsh grip against your face, the look in Bucky’s eyes as you had looked back at him- the relief crumpling his face as he sobbed, his grip on your face never loosening.

Something changed then, between the two of you. It became real, the knot forming between you solidifying. It felt like forever.

New York, Present day

“You kids really do think that I just have an unlimited sum of money, huh?” Tony mused from the kitchen counter, stirring himself a cup of coffee early in the morning, “I just held a huge charity gala, which was a success by the way, no thanks to you two.”

“That’s because you do, Tony,” You gritted out, your fists clenched beneath the dining table, anger and determination fuelling you, “I need you to host a press conference, I need-” Bucky gripped your clenched fist beneath the table, uncurling it and intertwining his fingers with yours, his gaze sincere as he nodded comfortingly, you took a deep breath, “She tried to ruin our lives, Tony. We need to expose her, we need to do something.”

Tony sighed, pausing midway as he raised the cup to his mouth, his gaze mirroring Bucky’s as he watched you from across the room, “Fine, kid. I’ll book you a room, reach out to a couple of my contacts. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” You nodded, your eyes teary as you smiled at Tony before turning to Bucky; his gaze remaining a solid force as he watched over you, continuing to grip your hand.

“It’s gonna go fine, Doll,” He assured, dragging your hand with him as he moved to settle back in his seat. He was almost a mirror of that night in the kitchen- all sleep-tousled hair and his crumpled pyjama shirt; the evidence of the lines of a pillow still prevalent within his cheeks. The two of you had spent every second together since your conversation in that hallway, and the night that followed. His gaze a constant presence beside you as you worked out what to do, how to garner adequate revenge against those that had wronged you.

The presence of those days in Monaco had always lingered at the back of your mind, and you assumed Bucky’s too. Whilst the team had managed to take out the army of men within the safe house you had been held captive at; your initial attacker, the Hydra informant- had escaped.

The reveal of a potential informant within the Avengers too shook the team- many outside of the Avengers itself refused to believe you, refused to take it further and potentially expose one of their own; one of the people that they worked alongside every day.

You couldn’t blame them- though the failure to reach justice left you feeling empty, wronged. You had survived days of torture- only to be saved, returned and expected to let everything go back to normal. To scrub the blood from beneath your fingernails and climb the quinjet, onto the next operation. The events of the PR relationship and the lies that unfolded caused these thoughts to re-emerge; thoughts that had been submerged by training in the gym and the crinkles beside Bucky’s eyes.

You felt like a pawn- a chess piece in the game of the rich and powerful. Orchestrated and trained to be used.

During the days leading up to the conference, Bucky was a constant presence beside you- a hand on your back, fingers intertwined, a kiss to the side of your hair- it was almost like he was afraid to let go, afraid that the relationship posed before the public eye was all too real; that it truly had meant something. Despite it meaning nothing.

You had told him as such, a hand smoothing back his hair as you sat cross-legged on your bed, “The whole time I was thinking of you.” You had smiled, your cheeks warming as he cocked his head to the side, a chuffing sound escaping from his mouth as he allowed himself to breathe.

“Me too, Doll,” He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he inhaled your scent, his face pressed to your hair, “I’m sorry everything got so twisted-”

“No, no. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Doll,” He smiled sadly, those beautiful crinkles at the side of his eyes forming, “I should’ve known, I’ve run into a number of problems with those public representations executives- I should’ve known.” He nodded as he spoke, wholly convinced that this was his doing, not theirs.

“I promise you, Buck. This wasn’t your fault and I will assure you of that until the day I die,” You vowed, your voice harsh with the iron-clad anger within, “But before I can show you- we have to take them down.”

“I’ll be there, Doll, right behind you on that stage. If you need me to step in I will. I will be there.”

Words wouldn’t have sufficiently amounted to display your awe of him, your love, the way you wanted him by your side forever- so, with your hands on his cheeks, you pulled him in- pressing your lips to his and pouring every words that you had never said to him into the kiss; smiling against his lips as he reciprocated, brushing a hand to the back of your neck and gripping- pulling you into his lap as you laughed into his mouth, lips never departing.

In a way, that moment of reprieve; of love, prepared you for what was to come.

The constant static of the Avengers tower surrounded you and raised the ends of your hair as you traipsed the hallway- the day of the conference. Your speech was written and had been studied meticulously, your words at their harshest- inflicting every cruel feeling that had been inflicted upon you, not just in the past week but during your time in the Avengers. The ever-watchful eyes, the unwanted criticisms, the ignorance and the altruism regarding yourself as a living, breathing human being.

The people had never truly cared, they never would. But exposing their malice and manipulation would provide you with the revenge you deserved. The revenge you all deserved.

The sound of heels clicking hastily caused you to pause, halting in your tracks as the footsteps were aimed purposefully in your direction, though before you could turn and face the intruder, a shrill voice sounded, “So, this is your big plan, huh?” Sophia, her once bouncy curls now reduced to an unruly hairstyle as she had evidently not stopped to allow the time for a meticulous hair routine that morning- her own actions were catching up already, even without the extent of her crimes being exposed, “Expose me?” She continued, reaching you finally as she waved her hands in her face- her nails raw, bitten down to their nail beds, “I was doing what was best for you-”

“You almost ruined my life!” You snapped, hair flying as you swung around to glare right back at her- your tone severe as you advanced, “I almost lost the love of my life because of your lies. And for what? A bit of money, fame.”

“You could do so much more, Y/N” Sophia shook her head, tone condescending but almost sympathetic as she widened her eyes at you, “You could be the biggest celebrity on the planet- we almost got there but you had to ‘fall in love’ with that-”

“Don’t even go there, Sophia.” You shook your head before repeating yourself, “You almost ruined my life- so I’m hitting the nail in the coffin for yours. What was it you said, me going public with Bucky would be ‘career suicide’?”

“You’re going to regret this, Y/N.” She yelled after you, a cliche statement- though out of character for a simple representative like Sophia. The statement caused you to pause upon turning the corner towards the conference room- check the stability of the gun beneath your shirt and the knife stored in the boot of your shoe.

“What’s up, Doll?” Bucky’s voice called from beside the door to the conference room- leaning up against the wall, one leg cocked before him as he stood in a full embellished suit and tie. Grinning, you shook your head, stopping in front of him to adjust his tie and smooth back his hair, “It’s gonna go great,” He nodded, his head tilting as he followed your ministrations against him, “You’re gonna take those bastards down, yeah?”

Nodding, you continued to grin at him, standing back to appraise his figure, “It’s going to go great.” You affirmed, accepting his hand as he led you towards the door.

“Everyone’s here, a little scattered around but I’m sure you’ll get a chance to see everyone afterwards,” Bucky pushed the large doors as he spoke, the grip on your hand moving to lay on your back as he pushed you into the room. Cameras instantly begun to flash in your face, Tony’s influence already attracting the attention of the press as they yelled questions at you and demanded answers, “Everything will be answered shortly,” Bucky nodded at each individual absently, leading you through the crowd towards the selection of seating occupied by a number of Avengers.

Wanda instantly vacated her seat and jogged to you, as much as her heels could allow, pulling you into a comforting embrace as she effectively stole you from Bucky, “You’ve got this Y/N,” she pulled back to grip your shoulders, squeezing as her bright eyes shone towards you, “Bring them down.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” you smiled, turning to the rest of the group you watched as each member gave their own affirmations, the love you felt almost overpowering as you smiled and nodded tearfully at each Avenger- exchanging hugs and touches as each person moved to reassure you. As always, Bucky remained an ever-present figure within your peripheral- standing to the side and allowing you your moment as you made your way through each Avenger.

Eventually, once the tears and the laughter had sufficed, you turned to Bucky.

“Good luck,” He smiled, his eyes glazed over and gaze piercing in that way it always was as he stared down at you- a hand moving to brush the hair from your forehead and the tear tracks from your cheeks as he gave his final blessing. With one final nod, you turned- climbing the steps towards the raised platform as you took in the sheer amount of people present within the room. Not only had the entire Avengers team arrived, but the majority of Stark’s Enterprise itself had too, alongside a swarm of reporters each carrying their own equipment and abrasive opinions. Sophia sat in the very front and centre- her gaze severe as she glared up at you, awaiting her own demise and preparing an escape as a bag lay secured and ready to grab beside her chair. You could only nod at her, maturity remaining the bargaining factor as you reached the microphone, cleared your throat and arranged the papers before you.

Bucky smiled up at you, an encouraging nod all you needed to begin.

“I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming today. I would like to recognise that this conference may be detrimental to many though it is necessary. Necessary for the so-called progression of the Avengers that you all vouch for, yet fail to accomplish,” taking a moment to pause, you surveyed the crowd- each member stunned into awaiting silence as they stared up at you, your next move a vital one, “During my experience within the Avengers- my accomplishments have been diminished to nothing but monetary value and publicity. I didn’t join the Avengers to be moulded into this, this object that you can flaunt at my expense. These feelings came to ahead when I was recently involved in a PR public relationship,” a sudden entourage of camera flashes begun, this is what they had been waiting for, “My relationship with John Walker was entirely organised by the Avengers’ Public Representations Department- my role as an idol to many young people was reduced to the latest on the front page of hundreds of tabloids.”

You turned then, a projector lowering behind you as you grabbed its remote, “I would like to present you with evidence of falsified documents within this department- majorly regarding my own real relationship with,” you paused, turning your gaze to Bucky, he nodded, “fellow Avenger, James Barnes.”

Gasps could be heard throughout the room as an uproar instantly began at the sound of Bucky’s names- questions, shouts or simply looks of shock were directed your way as you stared stone-faced into the crowd. To the side, Bucky was grinning- head-bowed and chuckling as the Avengers surrounding him held their own grins. Finally.

As the uproar died down at your own lack of response, you clicked the button on your remote- displaying a picture of the document Bucky had been forced to sign with a side-by-side comparison of the one you had signed. Refusal stilled you, refusal to look back and see the contract that had almost destroyed your relationship- tied chains around the sincere love you felt and locked you in place, on display to the ever watchful eyes of the public.

Instead, you continued to watch the audience- see their own individual reactions as the lives of those around them came crashing down. Your eyes turned to Sophia then, still seated and cross-legged in front and centre. You expected her eyes to be shining, regret spoiling her features as she would attempt to make an escape from the room, bag clutched and unruly hair flying as she would flee.

Her face held a different tune.

She was grinning, her pearly-teeth shining as her eyes flickered between you and the screen- her cheeks twitched as if she was holding in a laugh. Her reaction led you to turn to other members of the crowd, who’s faces sung a distinctly different chord.

Horror.

They looked horrified.

Tony stood then, his chair flying backwards as he barked orders to Friday, “Turn this off, stop the broadcast Friday. Who the hell did this? Get whoever did this out of my system!”

“What-” you mumbled to yourself, gripping the stand before you as you turned, confused as to how pictures of a contract had caused such a spectacle.

The pictures of the contract you had edited together and annotated were not displayed upon the screen. Instead, it was a video. You breath sped as you saw what you were watching, your own horror poisoning the breaths in your throat and weakening your knees. Front and centre, the focal point of the video was you.

You from six months ago in Monaco. It was a video of you hanging from the wall; body binded with chains as your face was covered in blood and dark bruises prominent on every inch of your skin. The blood that had clouded your vision could be seen from an outsider's perspective here- oozing from a gash on your forehead and filling your eyes, painting your eyelids red and glueing them together.

Struggling to breathe, you couldn’t tear your eyes away- you could only watch as your breaths hitched, the fight kicked out of you as you simply hung there. The men that had beaten you were not present in the video, though it was very obviously almost-immediately after one had taken place, your wounds were fresh, too fresh.

“Y/N? Y/N, you need to look away from that for me, okay?” A voice sounded behind you, pleading in its timbre, familiar and comforting as a hand attempted to turn your face, “We’re doing everything we can to get it off, Steve and the team are getting everyone out but I need you to look-” before the voice could continue its begging, a ear-piercing eruption sounded throughout the room. The walls of the conference room and the projector itself bowing inwards- the heat scouring your skin as the voice from before pushed you down and shielded you with their form.

You could only look at the figure, who turned out to be Bucky, in shock as he knelt over you; the ringing in your ears violent as he pulled you up, yelling at you to run and dragging you from the room. The rush of open wind pulled you from the depths as you entered the adjacent hallway, the side of the building entirely open due to the explosion- “What is going on?” You cried, gripping Bucky’s hand as the two of you rushed to the nearby stairwell.

“I think they’re back Doll,” Bucky turned to you as you entered the safety of the stairway, “We need to get as far away from here as possible- if that video tells us anything, they are back for you.”

“Sophia,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you reached a conclusion, gripping Bucky’s arm as you pulled to a stop, “Oh my god, Buck, Sophia!”

“No, Y/N, we can’t go back-”

“No, no. The informant, Buck. The person that warned Hydra, it was her,” your brain sped erratically, remembering the grin she had given you as the video had begun to play, the threats to your life, “She warned Hydra, we have to stop her.”

Bucky opened his mouth, a reply forming- but before he could speak, a jolt of electricity passed through your fingers as the volt was directed into his back. You could only watch as the man you loved collapsed before you, “Well, aren’t you smart,” Sophia’s voice grated from behind him, her heels clicking as she continued towards you, “I told you that you would regret trying to ruin my life, so here we are.”

You spared her the honour of a reply, instead opting to jump at her, kicking the baton from her hands and pinning her to the ground, “You are finished, Sophia.”

“No, she’ll be just fine,” another voice piped up from lower down the stairway, that same gruff voice from Monaco. He was here, “You could join her, Y/N. Live under my care and provide me with a bit of intel every now and then- you would be ridiculous to reject such an offer.”

“Well then I guess I am,” You spat, within a split second you had raised yourself from your crouched position, effectively lifting Sophia by the shoulders and slamming her head into the ground, knocking her out cold. The man was visibly displeased with your decision as evidenced by his change in stance as he instantly stormed up the stairs towards you, hoisting himself over the railings and engaging you in combat. You had trained for this, the long, winding months of your recovery were fuelled by the focus of sparring in the gym. You fought back swiftly, your movements precise as you delivered a kick to his gut and a clip across his jaw in quick succession.

“Someone’s been working on their fighting,” He mused, using the distraction of your reply as a chance to grab you by the hair, spinning you in place and pinning you against the wall, “But you’ll still be the little rabbit I saw in that basement.

“Go to hell,” You snapped, jabbing an elbow backwards and using your other hand to unholster the gun from beneath your shirt. Reversing the roles between you two, you watched as he cowered against the bannister, visibly unprepared for you to have hidden a gun within your formal outfit; not suitable for combat whatsoever. You faltered, considering simply handing him over to the police- instilling justice in its traditional form.

But then you thought about the root of the operation, the torture that you and Bucky faced at the hands of Hydra- at the disgusting men that resided within the walls of those hydra bases. You instantly delivered a shot to his head, the bullet pinging against the metal of the stairway behind him as it tore clean through his skull.

Wasting no time, you rushed over to Bucky’s pliant figure, sprawled on the ground as his body hitched with electricity every handful of moments, though he seemed to be coming back to consciousness; the speed of his super soldier healing and the bang of the gun pulling him back to consciousness, “Bucky, Buck. I need you to wake up.” You shook him, cradling the back of his head in your palm as you awaited a response. Sophia lay, similarly knocked out behind you, her mouth slack and blood leaking from her ears as she lay there. She would face the traditional methods of justice- handed over to the authorities for her attacks and barred from society for her infiltration.

A groan sounding below you pulled your eyesight back to Bucky, stroking the sides of his face as he opened his eyes groggily- squinting in the light of the stairway, “Your face, Doll.” he mumbled; making you aware of the blood dripping from your potentially broken nose and the swelling of your eyes.

“You should see the other guy,” you laughed, gesturing to the bodies behind you, “Literally.”

“Shit, Doll.” Bucky swore, rubbing at his side as he hoisted himself upwards into a seated position, “We need to get out of here.”

“Wait, we need-” sighing, you closed your eyes briefly, gesturing to Sophia behind you, “We need to get her out of here; hand her over to the authorities the right way. She needs to be interrogated, find out what she know.”

Bucky nodded, his face grim as he pulled himself to stand, with the support of your arm, aiding you in lifting Sophia up and limping together as you carried her from the scene- the beams of the destroyed hallway creaking with each step- the building beginning to fall apart above you.

Once the situation was explained, with Sophia and a handful of armed men being escorted from the scene into an entourage of police vans. Bucky returned to your side, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into a kiss and gripping at your sides, careful in avoiding your sore spots.

“I’m so glad you’re okay Doll,” he nodded sincerely, his eyebrows scrunched as he stared down at you, “I was so scared I was gonna wake up to you gone again.”

Shaking your head, you pulled Bucky into another kiss- threading your fingers through his hair and caressing the base of his scalp, “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

As you embraced, you turned to watch the scene before you- firetrucks extinguished the fires erupting from the explosion; hoards of employees stood aimlessly, simply staring up at their place of work, now diminished to ruins and rubble. Steve and Natasha were helping injured civilians find help whilst others kept the crowds away from the damage. Most amusingly, Tony stood only a few feet away from you and Bucky, simply staring up at the building; hands on hips and lost in thought.

“Buck, we’re gonna have a shit-ton of paperwork to fill out.”

AMERICA’S NEW FAVOURITE COUPLE

Shocking events have arose at the recent Avenger’s conference as Y/N L/N revealed that her relationship with John Walker was indeed fake and instead she is in a long-term relationship with fellow Avenger, James Barnes. Our reporters watched in shock as Y/N revealed this- though, me personally? I knew it all along! Count me as your most trusted source in celebrity love lives- I’ve never been wrong!

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #MCU #MCU fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n

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seabirdtxt · 11 months

Text

Event batch 3

all three of these were requested by the lovely @littlemistermedly 😊

🩵 Check out my other event requests! 🩵

"The ways that they love you" Spinoff of Glitch!AU but can be read as standalone. fluff and smut. everyone involved in this is AFAB yes even the puppets, he/him still used for all three of them though 1. Kabukimono | pillowfort building / frottage, clothed sex 2. Wanderer | falling asleep in class / sub!Wanderer, toy usage. reader wears a strap 3. Scaramouche | PWP, oral (reader receiving), brat!Scara for like 2 seconds

🔞 18+ below the cut!🔞 By clicking "Read More" you acknowledge the above tags/warnings and agree that you are both over 18 and accept responsibility for your own media consumption.

----- ⚘ -----

Kabukimono: Man on the Moon

The sweet puppet holds you gently, sitting with your back leaning against his front as the both of you are squished together by a mountain of pillows and blankets that were generously provided to you against your other roommates’ wills. The pillow fort you’d constructed with the pilfered cushions hide you and Kabukimono from the rest of the world, fitting you both into a little bubble of quiet intimacy.

His chest thrums with the vibrations of his voice box as he hums a little song in your ear, gently smoothing his hands up and down your arms and shoulders.

As his song comes to an end, he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head, sighing contentedly.

“That was a nice song, Kabu,” you tell him, putting your hands over his. “Where did you learn that?”

“It’s a nursery rhyme that the aunties in Tatarasuna taught me when I watched the village children!” He smiles gently, chest warming as he closes his eyes and purrs at the memory. “I don’t remember the words anymore, but the tune always makes me feel better.”

“Aww,” you coo, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. “That’s so cute, Kabu! You must’ve been the favourite of all the aunties.”

“I- I wouldn’t go that far…” You can feel Kabukimono’s temperature rise again as he fights off the flustered expression he makes. You tilt your head back and look at him, catching a glimpse of his shaky smile.

“I’m sure you had mobs of aunties offering you their sons’ and daughters’ hands in marriage,” you grin, poking his cheek as he pointedly looks away, covering his mouth with his hand. “Am I wrong? You’re so pretty, I just know everybody wanted a piece of this.”

“Stop it! Now you’re just teasing me.”

You wriggle around so that you’re facing him, pressing down into his rumbling chest with your entire body. It’s a shame the puppet bodies don’t blush in the same way as humans, because you’re sure he would be beet red right now.

You lean in close and squish your cheek against his, nuzzling into the soft hair that frames his face. You begin to hum, doing your best to imitate the song, a little bit off-key and not quite as confident as Kabukimono’s version, but recognizable all the same. Kabu drops his hand from his face and his smile widens, a touch of softness easing the corners of his eyes.

“That was perfect,” he says to you quietly. “Just the same as I remember.”

---

“Okay, so, I read about this one in a book,” Kabukimono tells you, and you can’t help but be endeared by his excited nervousness. You and he have mostly undressed by this point, only left in your underwear, your other clothes long since discarded as you’d indulged Kabukimono’s growing curiosity.

You let him manipulate you as he takes your legs and parts them, settling in the space between and pauses, eyes darting back and forth in a way that tells you he’s searching his memory for the next step.

“We can just keep doing what we usually do,” you tell him, using your heel to knock against his lower back. “It doesn’t have to be complicated or anything.”

“But I want to try other things!” Kabukimono protests. “How else am I supposed to expand on existing knowledge?”

“Okay, we’ll do it your way,” you let him manipulate you again, this time moving so he’s partially straddling you, slotting your legs together. Suddenly, you have a feeling you know where he’s taking this.

He drops his clothed crotch onto yours unceremoniously, face scrunched in concentration. For a second nothing happens, and he looks like he’s about to be incredibly disappointed, so you take a bit of initiative and cant your hips just a tad.

Kabu freezes and a cut-off squeak escapes his mouth as you grind your clit against his. You do it again, and his eyebrows climb into his bangs.

“Oh!” He exclaims, rolling his own hips experimentally. A grin of delight comes over him as he comes to the realization.

You’re unprepared for how quickly he takes to it, bending toward you to roll your clothed cunts together, and you sink further into the pile of cushions from the force of it.

“This is great,” he gasps, wonder playing on his face. You laugh breathlessly and reach up to stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Ah- I can’t believe how good this feels, how good you feel.”

You briefly lament the distance between the two of you due to this position, wishing you could wrap him in your arms and eat his pleasure whole. He’s purring so loud that you can feel the vibration of it where your bodies connect.

It doesn’t surprise you too much that Kabu comes first, his thighs tensing around yours as he soaks through both layers of underwear between you. He whines and bites back a sob as he continues to grind against you, overstimulating himself as he chases your peak.

The wet friction of the cloth and the sight of him biting his lip to stifle the rest of his noises is what does it for you. You tumble headlong into your orgasm, and you feel him give a valiant twitch against you again.

You give in to your desires and pull him down into your embrace, and he follows along gladly. He collapses onto you, causing you both to exhale with the impact, and wraps his arms around your torso. He buries his face in your shoulder as you bring one hand up to stroke his hair.

“Is that what you were hoping for?” You ask him, your heartbeat racing as you come down from your high. He nods against you, cheerfully sucking a mark into your neck.

“Mhm,” he agrees wordlessly, and after a minute or so he props himself up on his elbows, his body never leaving yours. You hook your ankles over his, holding him in place.

He looks down at you, considering. “So there’s this other thing I read about…”

----- ⚘ -----

Wanderer: Pick up the receiver, I'll make you a believer

The lecture is so indescribably boring that you’ve begun doodling all over your notes, filling every empty space with little cats and plants and stick figures with swords.

Beside you, Wanderer rests his head in one hand, elbow resting on the desk, his other hand lazily flipping his pen. He watches you out of the corner of his eye, holding back a snort as your eyelids and your own slowly begin to droop. He glances around quickly, ensuring nobody else is looking in this direction, then reaches out to you with his mind.

It takes no effort at all to impress the subtle thought of taking a nap into your tired brain. Within moments, you’ve begun to slump over, eyes closed and breathing softly.

Wanderer’s arm reaches around you and pulls you just enough so that you are leaning on him as you sleep. With his other hand, he takes your pen and puts it aside before it can leak all over your notes. Curiously, he peeks at your drawings.

Wanderer doesn’t laugh, but it’s a near thing. There's stick figures of himself, Kabukimono, and Scaramouche in little scratchy renditions of the trio’s daily mishaps. He didn’t realize Scaramouche ended up the most unfortunate of the three of them, having been the butt of the joke most often.

Taking his own pen, Wanderer decides to add a bit of embellishment to some of the doodles. Satisfied with his work, he sits back and listens to the rest of the lecture.

You wake up an hour later thanks to the cacophony of the lecture hall as students pack up their belongings, announcing the end of the lesson. You push off of your temporary pillow with a half-coherent noise, feeling the indent his clothes made on your cheek.

You grab your own notebook, intending to put it away as well, when you notice the new addition to your drawings, and you laugh loud enough to scare yourself fully awake.

Wanderer had drawn giant cartoon dicks onto your stick figures of him.

“What,” Wanderer says, smirk audible in his voice. “You don’t like it? I think it suits me.”

“You are SO lucky this wasn’t the notebook that we have to hand in to the professor,” you wag your finger at him playfully. “Do you know how much work it would be to recopy all of my notes into a fresh book?”

“Maybe don’t fall asleep somewhere where I can draw in it, then,” Wanderer counters, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. He takes your hand as you finish packing your own bag, and you begin the journey home together.

“Thanks for letting me nap, by the way,” you smile gratefully at him, swinging your clasped hands between you.

“No problem, you can just pay me back later,” Wanderer shrugs. You squint at him suspiciously.

“How do you want me to pay you back?” you ask, already not liking where this is going.

Wanderer’s smirk widens at your predictable reaction. “How about you top, tonight?”

“Nooo!” You wail in despair, dropping his hand like it’s on fire. You stomp ahead, and you can hear Wanderer’s cackles behind you. “This is why I never ask you for anything!”

“Come on, you always make me top, though,” Wanderer needles you in a sing-song voice as he jogs to catch up.

“You do that out of your own choice, bossy!”

“Can’t you do it for one night?” He asks, giving you puppy eyes that you definitely don’t melt at.

“But I wanna be lazy…” You pout and cross your arms, denying him from taking your hand again. Instead, he puts his hands into the pockets of his shorts and nudges you with his shoulder.

“Should’ve thought of that before you took a nap,” he states simply. “Since you’re sooo well rested, now, I guess you have more energy than I do. Especially since I took all the lecture notes for today, and maybe I’ll share them with you if I’m in a good mood.”

You don’t drop your pout, but you do lean into him as the pair of you walk.

“Fine, I guess,” you relent with a sigh, not really as disappointed as you’re pretending to be. “Can I use the purple toy?”

“Sure,” Wanderer leans over and gives you a quick peck to your cheek. “Whatever you want, babe.”

---

Whatever your hang ups with topping, it’s all worth it to see Wanderer shaking and moaning under you so prettily. With his elbows braced against the table, head resting on his forearms, the view of his toned back flexing with every movement you make against his sweet spot is incredible.

You run your fingertips over the fabric of your strap where it connects with the purple toy you chose, marveling at just how wet it is. You push into Wanderer again, grinding your own clit against the back of the textured material.

“Maybe you’re right,” you pant, smug as you pound into his greedy hole. “I should top you more often, this is awesome. Who knew you could get this loud?”

Wanderer makes a valiant attempt to look over his shoulder and scowl at you, but another snap of your hips has him swallowing whatever snarky remark he was about to make at your expense. Another loud whine pulls from his throat, and he bites his own arm to stifle the rest.

You have no idea how many times you’ve made him cum, though you count at least twice based on the growing puddle beneath you. Maybe three. (Very, very distantly, you hope you don’t slip on the wet floor. You’re not sure you could take the embarrassment.)

Another full-body shudder runs through him, and one arm reaches behind himself to grab at your fingers where they’re holding his waist in a grip that would bruise if he were able to. With an airy laugh you bat his hand away.

“What’s wrong? You asked for this.” You remind him, using both hands to pull him backward onto your toy. You hum lowly as the movement causes the base to rub against you, urging you closer to your own orgasm.

“Ugh, if I’d known-” he cuts himself off with a reedy cry. You take pity on him, allowing him to slump onto the table. You press into him one more time, remaining still as he fights the overstimulation, twitching around the toy buried inside. “ Ah- if I’d known you’d be this into it, I would've made you do it a lot more.”

“Sorry, did you say more?” Your smile turns devious as you pull out, to his weak protests, and push back in slowly, building your rhythm again. The squelching noises leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, if anyone were to walk by your room right now.

Wanderer thinks he might be in for a long night.

----- ⚘ -----

Scaramouche: Moment’s Silence

Out of the three of them, you would've expected Scaramouche to be the least tactile. As it turns out, you couldn’t be more wrong. He just doesn’t show it well. Or nicely.

During the day, and in front of anyone else, he remains the grouchy, taciturn puppet you’ve come to know and love. However, when the lights dim and everyone retreats to their respective rooms, his clingier side comes out to bother you.

Which is why you’ve been here for the past thirty minutes, splayed out on your back in the middle of your bed, trying to read one of the many books in your inventory, with the Balladeer on his stomach between your legs doing his utmost to distract you from getting into the plot.

Another jolt of pleasure shakes your concentration, and you lift the book to give a halfhearted glare at Scaramouche, who’s tongue still flicks lazily against you.

“Do you mind?” You huff, nudging him with your leg, to which he responds by grabbing your knee and pushing it back down roughly. “H- hey! If you’re not going to get on with it, can you at least let me finish reading?”

“Shut up,” Scaramouche snaps at you, baring his teeth irritably. “This isn’t about you.”

Despite his harsh demeanor, the next swipe of his tongue is heavy and languid, dragging up the cleft of your sex. You gasp and arch under his touch, and he takes advantage of the moment to slide his hands beneath your back, holding your hips to his face.

“I would say- ah- that you’re eager to please,” you tease him, reaching down to stroke his hair, fingers curling in his indigo locks. “But you always look like- hah- like you have a gun being held to your head when you do this.”

In retaliation, he gives a harsh suck to your swollen clit, quickly followed by him turning his head away (you have to hold back a whine at the loss of stimulation) to bite into the meat of your inner thigh.

“Ouch! Why?!”

The glare Scaramouche gives you could freeze a hot spring.

“In what universe would I do something like this if I didn’t want to?” He demands, pulling one of his hands out from beneath you to pinch your sensitive nub, rolling it between his pointer and thumb as you fight and fail to snap your legs closed around his head.

Without waiting for a response, two of his fingers breach your entrance and slowly spread apart, baring your soft insides to his scrutiny.

“Why shouldn’t I take advantage of everything you present to me?” He asks, tone reverent as he leans back down and his tongue delves into your cunt. You shiver at the feeling of him licking every slick crevasse, the noises that reach your ears causing you to flush with embarrassment.

He groans into your skin as he feels you clench around his tongue, the vibrations causing you to squeal and thrash in his grasp. The sheets beneath you are positively soaked with your fluids and his saliva. He twists his fingers inside you just so, and you drop your book with a choked gasp.

“You taste amazing, I can’t believe you think I don’t want this,” he mutters, his hot breath tickling the insides of your thighs. Your hand in his hair tightens, and you’re not sure if you’re pulling him closer or pushing him away.

“I… I…”

Your lack of response seems to amuse him and he chuckles against your wet hole. He gently takes his fingers out and uses his slick-damp hand to hook behind your knee and push it up, opening you more to him.

“Such a good boy. Are you close?” He looks up at you through his lashes, licking a heavy stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking the twitching bud between his lips teasingly. “Cum for me, pretty boy. Show me how well I did.”

You’re unable to formulate words as he pushes you over the precipice, throwing your arms over your face as you cry out, hips jerking against his clever tongue. Never once have his eyes left your trembling form.

You’re panting like you’ve just run a marathon, still spasming with the aftershocks, when you feel Scaramouche crawling up the length of your body. You watch through your post-orgasm haze as he licks the mess from his lips and hand.

“Is that it?” He teases, caging your head with his arms as he leans down, breathing into your space. “I thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’.”

Your brain is still in the process of rebooting, and he laughs mockingly at your fucked out expression. Your head falls back as you try to catch your breath, and you feel more than see him as he shucks his own shorts off, grabbing the headboard with both hands as he straddles your shoulders.

“Come on, where’s your manners?” He croons, voice hitching as your eyes finally come into focus, greeted by the sight of his own slick, fluttering hole. “I think you know how to say ‘thank you’.”

No need to be told twice. Your hands come up to hold his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the divots at his hips. You watch with rapture as his expression changes as you slowly pull him down to your mouth.

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin kabukimono #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x reader #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #genshin self aware au #self aware genshin #sagau #sagau x reader #scaramouche smut #seabird.txt #birdy.thanks #birdy.afterdark #all three of the section titles are songs btw give em a listen if you wanna

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rileyglas · 17 days

Text

The List ~Pt. 8 - Change~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: Fueled by alcohol and emotion, you muster the courage to confront Alastor about his feelings toward you. During a heated discussion, more truths come to light. The rules you’ve lived by for so long begin to change as you learn more about who you are meant to become. This will be a night to remember.

Themes: The usual angst, this part does contain SMUT, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, Lucifer is a cunning shit, slow burn, and of course 18+

3.9k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 (You're on it!) Part 9 Part 10

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

You freeze standing in front of the door to the radio tower. A million questions run through your mind. A million scenarios play out. A million possibilities of what you were to expect in the next few minutes. It was second nature by now to prepare for the worst. You deliver three loud bangs against the wooden door that echo through the hall. Every logical thought screams for you to leave but the liquor rushing through your veins keeps your feet planted.

No response. There’s not even a shuffle on the other side. Should I knock again? Maybe he went to his room? You raise your hand to knock again when you hear the click of the lock and knob turning.

The figure before you is almost unrecognizable. Of course it was Alastor but his usually clean pressed suit was replaced with wrinkled slacks and a button down, mostly undone. His hair disheveled in every direction and his eyes had black circles underneath. How does he look even worse than earlier?

“Alastor -” you breathe in shock.

His eye twitches at your voice, “Leave.” he tries to close the door.

You slam your palm against the door to keep it open, “No!”. I didn’t make it all the way up here just to leave without a fight. A snarl crosses his face. He steps aside to allow you to enter. Walking in you see an unusual mess of paperwork along with the rest of his suit pieces thrown frivolously around the room.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such a late night visit dear?” he sneers as he locks the door behind him. And just like that, every conversation you planned on the way up suddenly leaves your mind. Wait shit…no no no not the blank brain.

“I’m waiting.” he growls, stepping closer to you, annoyed by your lack of reason to be there. You turn away from him and blurt out the only things your alcohol fuzzed brain allowed, “He wants me to leave here to go stay with him. He promised he would protect me and keep me safe and I don’t know if I want that and his touch feels so wrong and – and - all I wanted was to run to you.” You wince from how horribly jumbled your words came out.

A warmth runs up your back and you feel Alastor on your neck. The smell of liquor taints his breath. You stand quietly, bracing for his retaliation. “Please….say something.”

He places his hands on your shoulders. Every muscle tenses from his touch as he speaks, “He wants you to stay with him? To cage you within his own walls?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell him all your little secrets?” he continues with an unsettlingly calm tone. “Y-yes.”

“Did you enjoy his hands on you? His lips against your skin?”

A lump forms in your throat as you shake your head, “N-No.”

Alastor walks around you to stand at his desk, looking out the tower window. “Didn’t we agree you wouldn’t leave the hotel without me?” His voice is smug, exuding his usual radio filter.

Is he stupid?

You scowl, frustrated by his sudden cockiness, “That deal was broken when you decided to be a self-serving, ignorant asshole.”

“Oh my dear, I don’t know how you’ve managed to climb the ranks like you have. Your emotions make you weak, make you sloppy. I have much to teach you.” He says coolly still facing the window.

Oh, okay so he is stupid.

You choose to ignore his comment. “This was a mistake.” you mutter just loud enough for him to hear. Turning on your heel, you head back to the door and reach for the handle, but black tentacles spring up to stop your exit. What the hell!? "Don't do this Alastor." you warn through gritted teeth.

“Come here, please.” There’s suddenly no static, no ringing. You stand your ground and try to leave again only to be pushed back by his dark appendages. “Please.” He repeats, bleak and emotionless. Rolling your eyes with a sigh, you walk across the room and stand next to him, keeping your gaze out the window as well. A familiar comfort washes over you being this close again, but the ache in your chest outweighed any relief. You stand together in silence. Both looking over the city for a long while.

Hesitantly you speak, barely rising above a whisper, “You’re wrong you know. Sure, there’s sadness, depression, anger, selfishness – those weaken the soul. Break you down more than any fall into Hell.” You feel his eyes turn to you, but you stay locked forward, “I would never expect you to understand, but there are some emotions that can empower even the weakest souls. That is how I’ve climbed.”

Rule #4 T̶̷̸̸̸̸̶̵̴̸̶̴̶̷̴̶̸̸̸̵̷̵̵̡̝̙̰̓̌̈̚u̴̶̴̵̷̵̷̸̴̵̴̶̴̵̴̵̷̷̴̸̸̶̶̬͍̯̓̎̈̑ͅř̴̷̷̷̵̴̶̴̸̶̶̶̸̵̴̴̴̷̵̵̴̴̷̲̼̭̱͛̏͠n̶̸̵̶̷̷̴̷̵̷̴̵̷̵̸̶̷̸̴̶̷̴̴̛͓̝͎̱̈́̆̐ ̶̷̷̸̶̷̸̶̷̶̵̴̸̸̴̸̷̷̴̶̵̴̵̦̥͉͔̎͐̾͆ỳ̷̶̵̸̷̵̶̵̵̸̶̶̷̷̷̶̶̸̵̷̶̸̴̥̜̝͆̈̕͜o̴̸̵̶̵̷̶̸̶̴̵̵̴̸̷̶̴̴̶̵̷̴̷͖̯̥̟̍̾̒͠ú̵̵̷̶̴̴̴̷̴̵̶̸̵̵̴̴̶̴̵̷̷̸̵̳̣͔̳̽͊͌r̸̵̴̶̶̶̴̸̸̷̶̵̶̴̸̶̷̵̴̴̶̷̴̬͚̳̜̔̉̍͝ ̸̵̷̶̵̴̵̸̸̶̶̶̸̶̸̶̸̵̸̷̶̷̸̠͚͓͆̈́͌̕͜ẅ̶̵̶̷̸̷̷̸̸̷̷̵̵̸̶̷̴̸̷̷̶̶̴̛̮͓̖́̏̀͜e̴̷̴̴̷̵̴̸̸̵̶̵̶̴̶̸̴̸̸̸̷̷̴͉̮͉͓͑̏̈̐ą̵̶̸̶̴̶̶̵̴̶̴̵̶̴̵̶̵̵̶̸̷̸̶̮͍̱͗͆̚͝k̵̶̶̸̶̴̵̴̷̵̵̴̸̴̴̷̷̸̶̷̸̵̷̺̻̯̜̅̉͒̈́n̷̶̵̴̸̵̷̴̸̴̷̵̵̵̴̶̴̶̶̸̶̶̴̰̫͔̺͑͂̇̍ȩ̴̴̵̶̸̷̸̷̵̷̶̴̵̴̷̷̷̶̸̵̶̶̶̭̹̙͐́̔͘s̸̷̸̶̶̵̷̶̶̶̷̸̶̷̴̵̸̸̵̸̸̸̷̳͔̦̼̐͂̉͌ş̶̶̷̴̵̷̷̸̸̵̷̴̷̸̸̶̸̸̷̸̷̶̵͚̠̺̉͂̒͝ ̵̵̵̷̵̵̶̷̴̵̵̵̷̵̵̷̸̶̸̴̴̶̵̨̟̬̣̇̓̂͝i̷̸̷̵̶̶̴̵̶̶̵̸̸̸̸̵̶̴̸̵̸̵̸̥̦͈͛̾̂͜͝ṉ̷̶̶̸̶̷̸̶̷̷̷̵̶̶̴̸̴̸̵̵̷̶̴̣͓̳͂̉̿̓ț̴̶̴̴̴̷̸̷̶̴̸̶̴̶̷̸̷̷̷̵̵̸̵̨̪̩̍̒́̐ò̵̵̴̶̷̶̷̷̴̶̶̶̶̶̸̷̶̴̶̷̵̵̴͔̭̙̿̈́͌͜ ̶̶̵̸̶̴̷̷̵̸̸̵̶̴̷̵̸̷̴̵̷̵̷̢̹̖͍̊̄̀̓s̵̴̷̸̸̸̵̴̵̶̴̶̷̵̸̸̷̷̸̷̷̵̷̙̮̭̰̀̽͋̓ẗ̷̵̷̷̷̷̶̵̶̴̸̷̷̵̸̵̸̴̵̴̷̴̸͎̗͉̹́̇͌͝r̷̸̷̶̴̶̴̶̸̵̸̷̶̴̶̴̶̷̶̶̵̸̸̮̭̺̘̀̃̍͆ȩ̷̶̴̵̴̴̴̴̷̸̵̴̷̴̷̴̵̷̵̷̸̴̷̭̤͙͒̂̇̈́n̴̴̶̵̷̵̵̷̵̸̷̴̴̵̶̶̵̴̷̴̶̷̵̢͙̪̩̈́͊̔͘g̵̴̶̴̶̷̷̶̵̴̸̷̶̶̴̴̶̷̶̴̷̵̵̝̘̩̪͒͋̕͝t̶̸̸̷̸̵̷̵̵̷̵̵̶̸̸̴̷̸̴̸̵̴̶̳͚̘̪͐͑͝͝h̵̶̸̷̶̴̷̶̸̵̷̵̸̷̴̴̵̴̷̸̵̴̸̡̭̝̤͂́͆̿

He holds his gaze as another long silence passes. In the past his stare always felt heavy, as if he was trying to find every flaw or insecurity you could possibly have but tonight, he didn’t burn into you. Tonight he was soft and present.

“I think I’m beginning to understand such sentiments.” He mutters. “Look at me.”

You shake your head and look to the floor. “I can’t play this game with you. It was never just about power to me. I need you to realize that.” The last few days you cried so much you didn’t think you could produce any more tears, yet here they are again, stinging just behind your eyes.

“I had every intention of keeping us nothing more than mutual partners, to only feed from the power we could create. I did what was necessary to keep you close.” Alastor gently takes your hand, intertwining your fingers in his, “But I never expected — I - I didn’t think — This is not a game to me.”

He doesn’t get it. Your hand jerks away from his. “You have a shitty way of making me believe otherwise.”

A frustrated grunt leaves his chest, “I knew the moment Lucifer met you and felt the power you held, he’d try to take you away. His reaction from seeing us together made it all the more obvious. As much as I hate to admit it, that insolent King is far from stupid.”

“You actually think he feels threatened by me? Or you?” You shake your head in disbelief, “It’s Lucifer, THE fallen angel…the fuckin’ devil himself! He doesn’t need anything. Why would he bother being so open, s-so vulnerable? The man practically crumbled to me. He even compared me to…to Lillith.” “How bold of him.” He grumbles unamused, “Do you really think he would say such things to someone he didn’t know could – “

“He kissed me, Alastor. He kissed me like - ”

“Like he loved you?” he scoffs at the statement. You watch his body grow with rage, “You want to talk about playing games? Are you so blind to not see he’s the one playing you!? You’re weaker than I thought falling so easily to someone like him.”

Hot tears flow down your face, though you can’t decide if it’s out of anger or hurt. “I’m not weak!”

“Then start acting like it!” His eyes begin to flicker black and red as static floods the air, continuing to grow into his demon form.

“It’s not weak to want to be wanted by someone who doesn’t have intentions to….just use me!” You find yourself screaming at the demon, flames starting to surround you. Why can’t he see past his own selfishness…

Alastor goes quiet as he comes down from his form. He beams an arrogant smile at your tear-soaked face, “Silly girl, he wishes to keep you in his castle. To keep you as his pet. He might not need your power but if you think he actually wants you without some ulterior motive, you’re naive and foolish.”

“FUCK YOU!” Having had enough berating, you turn away to leave but his large claw catches your arm to pull you back into him. “What Alastor!? What else could you possibly have to say to me!?”

He leans against his desk and pulls your body between his legs, “Do you not remember what I said the first time we made a deal? Together, you and I could become more powerful than the King of Hell himself.” You tilt your head, “Okay and?”

“Use your head for once! What all powerful being would be willing to risk the possibility of being overthrown? Angel or not, he isn’t invincible. He can’t hide his fear of the potential we possess.”

The lightbulb finally fires in your brain. Of course...

Rule #1 B̸̶̵̵̷̴̴̷̶̶̶̨͎̈́ę̴̶̸̷̵̷̸̵̸̴̴̜͊̋ ̸̷̴̸̶̷̵̷̴̴̴͔͙̈́͠o̸̸̸̵̸̷̵̷̶̸̸̲̟̐̀p̶̸̸̴̸̴̵̵̵̴̵͍̞̒̂e̵̴̴̵̸̶̸̸̷̵̶̩̊̑ͅň̸̴̸̶̶̵̴̴̴̶̶̥̕͜ ̴̴̸̴̵̷̷̸̷̶̴͇͙̐̎t̸̷̸̴̵̶̷̴̴̴̷̡̝̂͆o̵̵̴̴̴̷̴̶̸̶̸͚͉̍͌ ̵̶̸̷̶̵̵̸̶̷̸̛̱̗͝t̸̵̷̷̸̶̴̴̷̴̸̗͎̎͑r̸̵̴̴̶̶̵̸̴̴̷͙̣̉̑ǘ̵̴̶̸̸̴̸̶̷̷̸̯̦̓s̸̸̶̶̵̸̸̶̵̸̴̩̰̍̿ṯ̷̶̴̶̸̵̷̴̴̴̴̛́ͅ,̸̷̸̶̸̵̵̴̴̶̵̡͍̈͑ ̶̴̷̴̸̷̵̵̴̴̴̣̤̾͝b̸̵̶̵̵̸̵̶̴̴̶̛̜̹̀u̵̵̶̵̷̷̸̶̸̷̵͈͈̎́t̵̸̷̴̶̵̵̶̷̶̵̡̞̔̚ ̴̸̴̷̷̷̶̷̵̷̶̞̯̋̚n̴̶̵̷̴̷̷̴̶̴̶̳̮̎̈ȩ̵̶̴̵̷̴̵̸̶̵̴͍̀̑v̵̷̸̸̸̵̴̵̷̶̴͔͗͝ͅe̴̷̷̵̵̵̵̸̸̵̵̡̤͋̀ř̵̴̸̵̷̵̸̷̵̶̴͈͘ͅ ̴̸̷̶̵̷̶̸̵̶̵͖̟̔̃d̷̷̵̷̴̶̸̷̶̵̵͈̘͐̔o̷̸̵̷̴̵̵̵̶̸̵͕̙͊̌ ̴̴̴̵̷̷̸̶̵̷̴̜̜̅͘s̷̴̴̵̶̵̶̴̵̸̷̬͈̏̍ò̴̵̴̸̸̶̸̶̶̴̶̫̠̀ ̴̴̷̴̶̸̷̴̵̸̶̯̼̃̓b̷̷̴̶̶̷̶̴̶̵̶̘̹̐̈́l̷̵̸̸̵̵̴̸̷̵̴͎̫͂̉i̷̷̸̶̸̶̵̵̶̵̷̤̪͗̾n̶̴̷̷̷̶̵̶̵̸̶͉̺͑̚d̵̶̵̵̵̴̷̷̸̵̴̖̠͐̉l̶̷̸̸̷̸̴̵̴̵̴̖̘͆͌y̶̶̵̷̵̴̴̴̸̸̵͇̆̾͜

You hang your head in embarrassment by the horrible realization. If you could shrink down to the size of an ant, you would. I should have known better… “He wants to keep us apart so we have no way of rising to power…he wants control. He knows what’s possible, doesn’t he?”

Alastor stays silent but his eyes give you all the answers you need.

You bury your face into his chest, furious with yourself for not seeing it sooner. “I’m so stupid. He got me to trust him and…I told him so much…I showed him…shit…he knows.” Alastor wraps his arms around you tightly. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh.

“You’re not stupid. I should have told you the morning of his visit instead of -.”

“No - I allowed my own desires to cloud my voice of reason. I want to help…to protect those who can’t do so for themselves. But fuck, for once it was nice to feel wanted for who I was, not just what I could do…” you admit sheepishly, surprising even yourself with your words.

Alastor’s hands affectionately cradle your face. His thumbs softly wipe the tears that remained on your cheeks, “I want you. My body aches and pulls to you. I want to be powerful with you. I know I’ve made you feel like you were nothing to me when in reality, that couldn’t be farthest from the truth.”

“Then say it.” You say plainly as your eyes dart between his. He cocks his head trying to understand your demand. “Tell me the truth. Look at me, swear on your mother’s soul, and tell me the truth.” You needed to hear it from him. You need the words to leave his mouth.

He lets go of you and stands up straight, “Husker talked with you, didn’t he?”

Uhg Husk isn’t going to hear the end of this…

Frustration bubbles in your chest, “Don’t pin this on him! You just said -”

His lips press into yours forcefully and you melt into his arms. You’ve craved this feeling for so long that you didn’t dare reject him. Static begins to pulse through your body like never before. Opening your eyes, you see pink and green light surrounding you both. My power has never radiated like this with him. It only should only happen when — oooh fuck I get it now…

Rule #2 Ḑ̸̵̵̴̴̴̴̵̷̷̸̴̷̴̸̴̴̷̷̵̷̫̩̼̃͐̃͐͜͝o̵̴̶̷̸̶̶̴̸̶̵̷̴̶̷̸̷̴̷̴̷̞̗̣̟̖͐͂̽̊͐n̴̶̶̷̸̸̴̵̷̵̶̵̸̵̷̴̶̸̴̴̸̻̤͍̺͋͐̀̈́̂ͅ'̵̴̵̶̴̵̵̸̶̸̸̷̷̶̵̷̵̵̷̴̶̢̫͖̱͑̆̽̌́͜t̶̴̴̶̴̶̸̶̴̶̸̵̴̴̴̴̷̶̵̵̷͕̼̦̠̘̽́̾̄̈́ ̷̷̶̵̸̶̵̶̷̸̸̵̴̸̸̵̸̷̶̶̶͉̹̰͙͔̈́̂͐̆̌b̶̵̴̸̷̸̷̴̷̴̵̸̴̵̶̴̸̷̸̵̸̲̝̖̦͚͗̿͊̎̌ȩ̸̵̴̶̵̸̵̴̴̷̸̴̶̵̴̷̸̷̵̴̵̩̦͎͇̃͌͐̔̕ ̷̶̶̸̸̶̶̴̶̵̷̸̴̸̶̶̶̷̷̸̶̹̬̙͎̲̉̈͆͆̏a̸̴̶̶̴̵̸̷̶̴̷̴̴̸̷̷̵̶̷̷̶̙̣̹͍͙̒̏́͘͝f̸̴̷̶̸̴̶̸̴̴̶̶̴̶̶̷̶̶̸̸̶̨̡̧̻̯̐̓̐͑̈r̴̵̶̴̸̷̵̸̸̵̸̸̷̶̷̷̵̶̸̷̴̭̩̪̞̻̈́̄̆̔̎ả̶̸̵̵̶̶̴̸̸̴̷̶̶̷̶̶̴̵̵̶̶̢̡̦̖̠̾͑̾͂i̷̶̶̷̸̶̵̵̶̴̸̴̴̴̸̴̷̸̸̷̵̪̩̜̗̦͂̔̂̓͝d̸̴̸̸̸̸̶̵̴̸̶̴̵̸̶̷̴̶̶̶̵̰͚̪̺̥̒́̏̍͠ ̵̶̶̸̵̶̴̴̶̶̸̷̸̵̸̴̵̸̶̸̶̧̰̠͎̪͋̋̒͋̿ẗ̸̵̸̵̸̸̴̸̵̷̶̷̷̶̸̸̷̴̷̸̸̳͇͕̜̟̒̓͌̈ȍ̸̵̶̷̴̸̸̸̷̸̴̵̵̸̵̵̴̸̴̶̷̖̳͔̭̖̄͊̐̆ ̷̸̶̴̷̶̵̸̵̶̷̵̴̶̸̶̸̴̸̴̷̲͎̩̣͂͛̂͜͝͝ṣ̴̶̴̸̸̴̴̶̴̶̵̶̶̴̵̵̴̶̵̷̵̨̠͔̮̑͂͗̑̔ḫ̶̵̶̶̵̴̴̶̸̵̶̴̸̷̵̶̴̷̶̵̶̡̨̻̼̿͛̈́͌͘ö̶̶̵̴̶̸̵̴̴̴̴̷̷̴̷̷̶̴̴̶̴̞̲͙͉̬́̈́́̓͝w̸̴̶̶̶̵̸̸̷̶̵̴̴̷̶̴̶̵̴̶̶̝͎͓̼̤͐̆͊͊͐ ̴̶̶̷̶̶̴̴̶̷̸̴̷̸̶̵̷̵̵̶̵̡̻̪͍̙̈́̇͗̂͐y̶̸̶̵̸̴̸̶̴̷̶̵̸̷̶̷̶̸̸̴̵̦͕̲̱̥̾͗͊̋͠o̴̵̵̴̴̵̷̴̸̶̸̵̶̷̷̴̴̸̷̶̷͈̻͚͙̔̎̀̎̕͜u̶̴̸̶̷̶̵̵̴̸̶̸̵̴̷̸̶̵̷̸̵̻̥̩̭̿͗̐͆͌ͅr̸̷̴̵̶̵̸̶̴̷̶̵̴̴̵̵̸̶̶̷̵͖̙̼̝̝̃̽̊͗́ ̴̷̶̵̸̴̸̵̵̷̸̶̴̵̵̵̶̶̶̵̷̧̥̥̫̭͑̈̆̔̈p̵̴̴̸̶̶̸̴̶̴̸̷̸̶̵̷̸̶̴̶̷̺̰̪͎͓͋̆̄͆̕o̷̶̴̸̸̶̵̸̴̵̸̷̸̴̵̴̴̵̵̵̸̹̟͔̱͉͆̀̐́̈́w̶̸̵̵̵̸̶̷̸̵̴̸̶̴̷̴̸̷̶̵̸̼̣̘̖͐͋͑̂͝ͅȅ̷̷̵̶̶̵̶̵̶̷̴̸̷̵̵̷̸̷̸̶̵̛̼̩̭͓̍̅͊ͅr̵̸̸̶̶̷̶̶̸̶̸̸̸̷̶̴̸̶̴̴̷̨̻̹̪̽͛͒͝͝ͅ

He breaks the kiss to rest his head against yours, panting from the sudden passion, “I swear…on my darling mother’s soul…I love you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Alastor’s face twists with a mixture of regret and embarrassment, “I’ve made it a point to be ruthless and unwavering. I thought showing anything more would label me weak. When I returned to the city feeling such foreign urges…I thought I was going mad.” You smirk trying to hide the pure joy rushing over you, “Is that Alastor or the copious amount of liquor talking?”

“Probably both.” He chuckles through a smile you swear could split his face in two if it went any wider. Your hand runs under his open shirt and across his chest playfully, “Oooo what other confessions can I get out of the great Radio Demon?”

Alastor huffs at your sudden confidence, “Oh - ho darling don't push your luck. Terrible of you to take such advantage of me in this state.” Your lips curl into a half-hearted smile, but doubt continues to flood your thoughts, “You say you love me - but your words have failed me before.”

He grimaces, “After seeing you with…him…the pain of possibly losing you consumed my mind. I went to see a good friend of mine who was able to put things in a new light. I believe the words she used were, ‘Words are cheap, but actions, they speak for the truth’.”

Time to test my luck as usual. “Then show me.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and trails down your face, stopping at your lips. “Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly. You nod and push against him with enough force he has to brace himself against the desk. He swiftly returns your passion and draws you flush with his body. As he deepens the kiss with his tongue, you feel him spin and lift you up on his desk - slotting himself between your thighs.

Your hands dance up his body, impulsively undoing the last few buttons of his shirt before pulling it off his shoulders. You break the embrace as you feel the scars that riddled his body. “How -?”

“I didn’t become who I am without some loss, my dear. Does it repulse you?”

“Never.” Entranced, you ghost across each mark making him shiver. Desire crashes over you seeing his body react to your touch. Your fingers continue to flutter over his skin to the small tufts of red hair that trail down his stomach. Stopping at his belt, you lift your eyes to his, “This isn’t like before Alastor. I can’t handle any more disappearing or deals or secrets. Are you ready for that? Are you certain I am what you want?” Your words seem to plead rather than question him.

He pulls your hips into him as he lays you back on the desk, trailing kisses down your jaw. “You’re all I’ve wanted for a long time darling.” he purs into your ear, voice dripping with lust. Is this really happening?

You let out a yelp when his claw abruptly slices down your shirt. He’s too impatient, too deprived of you. His eagerness continues to fuel the heat growing between your thighs. He chuckles as the buttons of your shirt scatter across the room, “Nothing a trip to the tailor can’t fix.”

He begins to pepper kisses across your collarbone, down your sternum, and over your stomach, pulling soft whimpers from your lips. A devious smile crosses his face as he unbuttons your pants and slides them off your legs along with your underwear. He stands himself between your thighs once more, “Utter perfection.” he breathes. The sudden sound of his belt being undone and ripped from its loops sends goosebumps across every inch of your exposed skin. Last chance to - no…I want this….we need this…

You feel his hard warmth start to slide between your folds. He groans from contact, “It seems you’re already begging for me, darling.” Propping yourself on your elbows, you look down at his length as he teases your entrance. Alastor notices your worried expression, “Take a deep breath and relax, I’ll go slow.” He slowly begins to push himself into you and his mouth falls on yours, begging to catch every moan of pain and pleasure.

Your walls clench from the sudden but welcomed sting. He stills to allow your body to adjust to his size. “Too much?” he asks. You shake your head, “No, keep going.” He continues to push into you, hissing into your neck as he bottoms out against you. You can’t remember your previous experiences from when you were alive, but you were positive you’ve never felt this level of fullness or satisfaction.

You wrap your legs around his waist and tangle your hands into his hair, giving a firm pull at the base of his antlers. “F-f-fuck –“ he mouths while rolling against you, craving friction but not daring to push until he feels your body relax. You buck into him as a silent plea to keep going. He begins to pull out at an agonizingly slow pace, groaning gravelly praises each time he drives back inside, “That’s it.” “Deep breaths cher.” “Give in to me.” He was completely controlled, each stroke deep and intentional.

“Al –“ You cover your face to muffle your moans, surprised by how dazed you’re already becoming. Each thrust you feel him hitting a spot that sends mind numbing electricity through your body. He moves your hands away from your face, “No hiding - it’s just you and me.” His voice is laced with a sweetness you’ve never heard from the demon before.

It isn’t long before the tension in your lower stomach builds. He draws you up against him and grips one of your thighs, putting you in a position that allows his pelvis to grind into you as he quickens his pace. Your fingers dig into his arms to steady yourself.

You throw your head back with a guttural moan, your noises are pure music to Alastor’s ears. He can’t resist breathing sweet words into your neck, repeating how good you look like this, completely filled by him, no one on your lips but him. In between his admirations, he runs his teeth across your throat, nipping and sucking little marks to claim you that much more.

His gentle whines across your skin bring you that much closer to release, “Alastor…please…more…”. Any self-control he was holding onto snaps at the sound of your pathetic pleas. Feeling him pull out completely, you protest under your breath. He turns you around and bends your body over the cold wood of the desk. A dark groan rumbles in his chest as his hand slides up your spine and his fingers thread into your hair. He pulls you back gently to lean into your ear, “You want me to show you how much I love you, cher?”

Without waiting for an answer he jerks your head back to crash into you from behind, filling the room with an unholy mixture of your cries and the sound of your bodies connecting over and over. Your back arches from his grip pulling you deeper into his thrusts. Any control he had with you before is long gone. The demon loses himself as your walls tightly massage around him and your sweet sounds feed his desire.

His free hand wraps around your body. You cry out again feeling his fingers start to massage your aching bud. Your nails dig into his desk and tears begin to stream down your face from the intense stimulation. “D-don’t…p-please…I’m.. – ” you pant nearing the edge of your high. Looking back, you watch his antlers grow.

“Say…my name….a-a-AGAIN!” he stammers between breathy grunts. Unable to hold back any longer, you bow back into him, feeling the tension in your stomach finally snap, “Oh God, Alastor!” you gasp. Every muscle trembles beneath him as your body welcomes the long awaited release.

He plunges deeply once more to feel you spasm around him. “There’s no God here, cher.” He growls as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making his name fall from your lips once more. Hearing you scream his name pushes him over into his own resolve. His body stutters, filling you with every drop of him. You bask in his whimpers as he rides out the high.

Your body collapses on the desk. Alastor lies on top of you kissing every bit of skin he can reach. You hiss as he runs his tongue across the fresh blood trickling from your shoulder, “No one will have the pleasure of tasting you again.” His chest rumbles against you. He continues to drag his lips across you, remaining inside to take in your body just a little longer. For the first time in weeks your mind is blank, entirely present in the moment, drinking in every second of his body being one with yours.

“Stay still dear.” he commands, grudgingly pulling out and away from you. The cold air from his sudden absence makes you shudder. You let out a breathy giggle at the feeling of his warmth trickling out and down your legs. Alastor returns and starts to run a cloth between your thighs, “I admit, I quite enjoy you like this.”

“What? Vulnerable and naked?” you tease.

“Unequivocally mine.”

You turn around to wrap your arms around his neck. “Say it one more time for me?” He rolls his eyes but happily obliges to the request, “I’ll say it a million times if I need to - I love you.”

“I love you, Alastor.” Rule #3 K̸̷̵̴̸̸̸̵̵̵̵̸̷̶̶̵̷̴̶̶̴̫̩̻̗͚̇͆͑̈́̀e̴̶̷̷̶̷̷̶̵̵̶̵̵̶̶̶̵̴̷̷̷͙̪͔̫̣͛͐̎̀͝e̵̸̷̵̷̴̸̸̸̷̷̷̴̵̶̴̷̴̵̵̴̢͈̬͍̺͗̌̒̆͝p̵̷̷̴̷̸̶̶̵̵̷̷̴̶̶̷̷̵̷̸̸̧̛̦̤̼͚͋̅̄͝ ̷̸̸̸̴̵̵̷̵̶̷̴̵̷̸̷̵̵̴̴̸̺̳͚̩̤́̓̈́̇̌t̷̶̸̴̶̴̵̴̷̸̴̸̸̷̸̸̸̶̶̶̵̤̣͙̫̹̃̉̌͂̂h̴̸̸̶̷̷̶̶̵̸̷̶̵̵̵̴̶̴̷̶̴̡̘̯͖̝́̽̌̌̏ȏ̵̴̸̷̷̷̵̴̴̶̵̸̸̷̸̶̵̶̶̸̸̱͍̞̉̓̚͜͝ͅs̶̵̴̷̸̸̵̸̵̵̷̶̵̴̷̶̷̷̴̵̴̢͙̹̯̗̾̒̃͒͝ȩ̶̴̷̵̴̸̴̸̶̴̵̵̵̵̸̵̷̵̵̴̵̧͇͙̠́̑̈́̊̄ ̷̵̵̸̵̷̷̶̶̶̷̸̸̴̴̸̵̸̵̸̸̧̦̘̖̺̔̀̂̌͛y̸̵̶̶̴̶̸̴̸̴̶̸̷̶̴̶̸̸̸̴̸̢̘̼̗̰̌͒̕͝͠o̸̴̶̸̵̶̸̷̴̸̶̶̷̴̸̶̷̴̷̷̶̡̨̖̭̠̊̾̆̓͗ų̵̶̸̵̷̶̴̸̵̵̷̴̵̶̶̴̷̶̷̶̷̙͕͚̰̀͆̔̉̌ ̴̸̷̶̴̷̴̶̴̶̶̵̸̸̸̵̸̴̴̴̴̤͍̤͖͎̐̐̑͆̕l̶̸̵̶̶̷̷̸̷̵̶̴̶̴̶̵̸̶̷̴̶̡͇̦̩̰͋̈͊̈́́o̸̶̸̷̶̶̸̴̴̶̴̶̷̶̵̸̴̶̸̸̶͕̜̟̥̼͐̐̀̈́̐v̸̶̴̸̸̷̶̷̷̵̵̷̴̶̸̷̸̶̵̴̴̟͙̩̝̭̒̒̋͘̕e̵̶̵̶̴̸̴̶̶̷̵̷̸̶̶̴̵̶̷̴̵̺̬̩͔̺̓̾͆̕̚ ̶̷̶̷̴̶̶̸̷̷̴̴̷̴̷̶̴̵̸̸̴̨͈̣̩͕̉͋̎̿̀c̶̸̶̵̵̴̴̴̷̵̷̶̷̴̴̴̴̷̸̵̵͓̳̘͓̬͐̐̈́̌̈́l̸̶̸̷̴̷̴̷̸̵̷̷̵̴̷̷̷̵̸̵̴̢͎͍̻̈́́͊̚͜͠o̸̵̷̸̷̷̵̸̴̴̶̸̷̷̴̶̸̷̷̸̶͇̻̣̯̖̐̿̕̚͝s̴̷̸̷̷̴̵̴̴̶̵̷̵̸̴̴̵̶̷̵̷̛̠͍̳̥͔͆̐̃͝ë̶̵̴̷̵̵̷̷̸̸̸̴̶̴̶̸̵̴̷̴̷͈̳̙̟̥́͑̔͘͠

Green and pink light reflects off the walls once more as you kiss him, bodies vibrating from the connection. He grins against your mouth, “Your power grows darling. You’ll need to learn to control it if we are going to keep this up.”

You groan at the thought, “I’ll add it to my list of things to do tomorrow.”

Alastor nods and walks over to a chair where a few of his shirts were laid over the arm, pulling one on himself and tossing you another, “This should suffice long enough to make it back to our room.” You slide the shirt over your shoulders and let out a sigh of relief seeing it was long enough to hit mid-thigh. Last thing I need is someone in the hall seeing more than they want.

Without thought you inhale the intoxicating smell of his cologne that still lingered on the material. Every worry you had could wait until tomorrow. Right now, you selfishly only wanted to live and breathe Alastor. You begin to button the shirt but freeze at the realization of what he said, “I’m sorry, did you say our room?”

A hand presses against your lower back, “You don’t actually expect me to let you too far from me again, do you cher? Your things have already been moved. Now, shall we?” He beams as he picks you up, carefully minding that you remain covered. Like second nature your arms slink around his neck, “I can walk you know, don’t give yourself that much credit over what just happened.”

He starts to make his way out of the tower, “I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you dear. I’ve been without you, craving you, for a long time. This is to save your energy for when we make it back to the room.” His tone was playful, but you could hear the underlying threat.

Two can play that game. You mischievously start to gently bite and kiss his neck while whispering taunts in his ear, “Looks like the scary Radio Demon has lost his self-control.”

That comment combined with a solid bite to his neck is his breaking point. Before you make it to the door the world spins out and back in. You feel yourself fall back forcefully against the silk sheets of his bed. Looking down you see Alastor hungrily climbing over you with feral eyes. He growls through a toothy smile, “Want to say that again love?”

I don’t think I’m getting any sleep tonight.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @phamtasic @ohnah2022 @eris-norwega @kaylopolis @littlebluefishtail @little-slyvixen @laudrawin @qu1cks1lversb1tch @diffidentphantom

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nirvanawrites111 · 7 months

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Set My Wings On Fire Part 2 (Sub!Christian Yu x Fem!dom Reader)

Pairing: Christian Yu/DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1717

Summary: It's been 30 days since you last saw him and he needs to make up for the lost time. You're still delulu af for him, but tonight is all about your pleasure.

Warning: Smut, fem!dom, slight humiliation kink, degradation for Christian calling him bitch and slut, oral sex (fem rec), face strap, face riding, mentions of killing, handcuffing, you're called goddess, fem reader implied but no pronouns used.

Part 1

minors and ageless blogs do not interact. Just put some indication of your age if you're going to engage, please.

"Control me, please. I need you," Christian whimpers for you. His hair is a mess, his eyes are full of darkness, and he's in front of you, begging to be dominated. His hands are restrained.

He's never had a problem relinquishing power over to you. In fact, it was his idea that he wanted to be dommed by you.

Normally, this is all it would take for you to give in to his pleading. He's in your favorite position, on his knees, willing and able to please.

But, for a particular reason, it isn't enough to sway you.

Your lover is desperate for your touch. He needs to feel your fingertips run against his skin more than he requires his next breath.

Yes, he was on the run, but this wasn't his first rodeo, and for knowing him so well, it won't be the last.

Today, was supposed to be a celebration of being able to reunite with each other. Because your man has somehow outsmarted the FBI and the police, and his name is magically no longer on the most wanted list.

You don't ask questions, because these are incriminating details that you can't afford at the moment.

You stand before him and glance down at the man below you. His beautiful dark brown hair is in messy wavy curls, and his knees are on the cold marble floor.

He's shirtless, but he has on sweats. Even through those pants, you can see that he is excited to see you. He is happy to be able to be in your presence.

Yes, you want nothing more than to pounce on your sweet lover, but this is just one problem.

He went completely radio silent on you during this "run."

Which triggered your anxiety more than usual. Every single time your phone rang, you were hoping that it was him to let you know he's safe.

"No," You finally speak after a little bit of time has passed.

It's hard for you not to give in to his wants because you love this man so much. You have blindly decided to meet him at this location in a random ass city, because of your undying loyalty to him.

You don't even think you could exist without him, which is why those thirty days were harder than expected. Also, because you never knew when they were going to end.

"Goddess," Christian whines in such a deep tone, and his accented plea is so sexy to you. "Please. I need you. All I want to do is serve you. I've had dreams about tasting you and being fucked by you. Please."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." Christian sounds so desperate, but truth be told, you liked being desired in this way. "Use me as you will. I know I've been bad."

His whines seem sincere, but you're not convinced yet. He's going to have to prove to you how sorry he is.

"Tell me.. say it. How have you been bad?" You fold your arms, demanding an answer so that you both know why he needs to be punished.

"I neglected you. It wasn't my intention, angel. I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me? By ignoring me." You scoff. Tell that to your many sleepless nights wondering if something happened to you.

You walk around the spacious bedroom. Your heels click against the marble floor. Somehow, he's managed to pull off getting a mansion in the middle of nowhere. As you explore the bedroom, your eyes are drawn to the exquisite chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room. The luxurious furnishings and tasteful decor reflect his understanding of your appreciation for elegance.

However, deep down, you hope this grand gesture isn't his way of compensating for past mistakes, longing for genuine forgiveness and understanding instead.

You turn to face him again and lift his chin to meet his eyes as he explains his reasoning.

"I had to be extra careful, because I didn't want anything getting tied to you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened. I'm madly in love with you, Y/n."

You want to cuss him out, but the truth is your feelings for him are mutual. So, you feel a bit conflicted because no one understands you the way he does. No one can make you feel the way he does.

No one can dominate you like him. No one can submit the way he does. The perks of being with him outweigh all the bullshit of what he does when he's not with you.

For some, the fear is their partners being unfaithful. For you, it's pondering if any of your disloyal exes ever faced Christian's wrath.

"Christian, I'm going to have to punish you."

"I know, goddess. I deserve it and will take whatever you give me."

"Normally, I would just spank you. But, I have something better planned. Now get over here and eat my pussy, bitch."

You sit down on the comfy bed and spread your legs. You watch as he eagerly falls between your legs. He takes his handcuff hands and pushes your dress up one side at a time. You're already not wearing panties for easy access.

Christian laps all your center. He licks across your clit and swirls around until you gush a little. His tongue trails down to catch all your juices.

You moan in pleasure as Christian's expert tongue explores every inch of your sensitive folds.

"Thank you, goddess, for letting me taste you. All I want to be is serve you."

"Yeah, yeah.. talk is cheap. Keep licking until I cum. No more talking until I do."

You're a bit harsh with him, but you know that he loves to be degraded. His mission is to make you orgasm, which you both know he has no problem doing.

Christian savors at your essence. He whimpers as he licks away at your pussy. The taste of you is something that he's been craving for the last thirty days. Every day he's spent without you left him lost in thoughts of fulfilling your desires.

He would have gladly taken the spanking from you. He loves the way you can take charge of the situation. Your ability to switch is something he admires so much.

You continue to enjoy the satisfaction of him practically worshipping you because you're literally a goddess in his eyes.

Christian isn't playing with you. His tongue is working overtime to make sure his goddess cums.

One thing about your man is he knows how to please you. He knows how you like it when he goes fast. He giving you faster licks to the point you have to grab the back of his head because you're approaching your peak.

"Fuck, I'm so close... baby. Just like that!" You cry out.

Before you can utter another word, Christian continues his reluctance pace, bringing you closer to your peak. As you tiptoe closer to your climax, your legs tremble, and you close your eyes to enjoy that final moment before you release.

The intensity of your orgasm rips through you, and you ride the familiar wave that you crave so much. Christian isn't letting up, either. He continues to suck your juices out of your pussy.

He's addicted to the way that you taste. He licks you clean until you push him away from you.

"God, I've missed you, goddess," Christian says, crawling back between your legs to give your pussy a final french kiss because he's so in love with pleasing you.

Christian is the type that you could lock him in a room with you and make him eat you for hours and hours. He would enjoy it more than you, because that's how addicted he is to you. He just wants to please you in any way he can.

Christian lays his head on your thigh, waiting for your next instruction.

"Christian," you call his name.

"Yes, goddess?"

You could see the light in his eyes and his eagerness when he was with you. This is the man that no one else gets to see. This is the side he hides from the world.

"You know... you did a great job giving me head. Which I would expect from a slut like yourself. But, you're not cumming tonight. I am. But, I'll let you fuck me."

"Really, goddess?"

"Yes, with a strap-on. You don't deserve to feel my pussy just yet."

You know that Christian was expecting to get pegged. Maybe he thought he would get a rough pegging session, and you would deny him release. But, you have a point to prove.

"Goddess, I really can't get fucked? I was really waiting for this."

"And I was really waiting to hear from you. Maybe you could earn a chance to get fucked, but until then, get on the bed."

You grab the face strap on and put it on his face so that you can ride his face this time.

"You ready?" you ask him.

"Yes, goddess."

You're still wet from when he ate your pussy, so you position yourself over his face while you ease down onto the strap. You quickly find a rhythm as he pumps from underneath you.

Although you would rather have Christian hard dick inside of you, the strap feels good inside of you. You stroke your clit as you enjoy Christian pleasuring you.

"You're so eager to make me cum again, huh slut.. you're that desperate to get fucked in the ass?" You degrade him.

"Mmmhm.. yes, goddess. But, my priority right now is just pleasing you. I can't wait to feel your juices drip down my face."

You hold onto the headboard as you ride his face strap-on. Sure, it might be punishment, but Christian is enjoying very moment.

For the second time tonight, you feel the familiar feeling. Your body tenses up, and a wave of pleasure washes over you as you reach your climax. Your juices coat his face, and now he's glistening with your cum all over his face.

You remove the strap from his face and slip your tongue into his mouth. "You did a great job pleasing me... maybe we could talk about you riding my strap." "I'd like that goddess."

Please reblog if you enjoyed my work! It helps my work get discovered by other readers. I would GREATLY appreciate it!!!

#sub!kpop #sub! idol #sub!idol x reader #kpop smut #dom!reader #fem!dom #fem!reader #christian yu x reader #dpr ian x reader #dpr ian smut #dpr ian #dpr christian #khh smut #krnb smut #sub!idol

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mostly-marvel-musings · 17 days

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Where Do We Go From Here - Part 2

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2721

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Read Part 1 here

Free Fandom Bingo Masterlist

“I love you, Mr. Rhodes.”

“I love you more, Mrs. Rhodes.”

Content.

That was a primary feeling among others, contentment and giddiness. It was the happiest day of your life. You had married your love, James Rhodes. The ceremony was everything you had wished for and more, all of your friends and family watched happily as you exchanged vows and rings, grinning ear to ear as you were declared man and wife.

The day you met him, or rather evening at Tony Stark’s party, hadn’t been the most perfect. Hell, you were too wasted to even remember but Rhodey had dropped you home - more like carried you, tucked you in bed, and left some Advil along with a note like a gentleman, a tiny smiley face with his number that had you giggling like a teenager. And that was the beginning of your relationship.

And exactly six months later you were dancing to your favorite song with your new husband who had a firm arm around your back, the other holding your hand while you lay your cheek against his chest, loving every minute of the moment. The song ended and you broke apart, reluctantly letting him go, you pecked him on his lips a couple times before excusing yourself to use the ladies room.

The door seemed to be locked so you gave a soft knock, frowning when you heard muffled voices of what sounded like two people arguing. Twisting the knob, you entered anyway because you couldn’t wait and stumbled on Tony and Pepper. They had been squabbling.

“I’m really sorry guys, I–I couldn’t wait.” you hurried into a stall, gathering your wedding gown as best as you could. You heard Pepper storm off, the clicking of her heels wasn’t exactly silent, before Tony’s footsteps receded soon after. As you headed out, Tony had been leaning against the opposite wall, looking tired and mildly irritated.

“All okay?” you asked, genuinely concerned for two of your closest friends. He waved his hand in dismissal and shrugged, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“Was that payback for me accidentally walking in on you in your bridal gown?” Tony jested, making you giggle as well as recalled the moment that happened just a few hours ago. Someone incorrectly told Tony about Rhodey’s room and he had barged in on you with two of your bridesmaids after you had just put on your wedding dress. He could’ve sworn his heart had stopped at that moment. You were stunning, so beautiful he actually struggled to form words. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Tony had left, not before giving you a once over, the image of you had been stuck in his mind for posterity. He couldn’t help but feel how lucky his best friend was.

“Oh God no! That was um, I just really had to go. I didn’t know you guys would be in there, arguing.” you blinked, shuffling from one foot to the other.

“While women’s bathrooms are at the top of my list for quarreling, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Tony had a knack for making a joke out of serious situations, you knew that, you wondered if that was one of the reasons for him and Pepper arguing. Pepper, as far as you knew, was a no-nonsense person. As the two of you walked back towards the hall, you saw your new husband deep in conversation with her. Thinking nothing of it, you turned to Tony.

“I should probably–”

“Good luck with–”

You spoke at the same time, chuckling as Tony scratched the back of his neck, looking back up at you with a sincere smile on his face.

“Good luck with your marriage, Y/N. I hope you two are happy, and not just for the pictures.”

The sun had risen a few hours ago, heavy curtains blocked most of the light where you lay in the guest bed, working up the courage to face the day. Pepper’s funeral had been another painful reminder of your new reality. People kept offering their condolences to Tony who had his stoic facade on, occasionally looking out for you to check if you were still around. You had made it a point to be there for him, he wasn’t exactly volatile but the man needed you to ground him, probably more than you needed him. Or maybe it was the same. Who knew?

All you knew was if there was anybody in the world who could get what you were going through, it was Tony. And it was the same for him. It was the strangest and the most tragic connection you two had now.

You stood outside your house and stared at it, a house that held so many memories, happy memories with you and James. It was now just walls and bricks. Tony had been reluctant to leave you alone but after much assurance, he dropped you here and left for work.

You went on a cleaning spree once you stepped in, the kitchen had been dirty, your bed was unkempt. Blasting on some loud music that you knew James would’ve hated if he were alive, you cleaned the house. And you actually felt better once you were finished. It was exhausting but therapeutic. Your mood had been lifted enough for you to make a batch of mini blueberry pies to take back to Tony’s. The only thing that you dreaded was opening the closet, conflicted between never wanting to find out what he had been hiding in there and wanting to know everything and be done with it.

He was smiling. Not believing this was his reality now, everything was perfect, everything felt right. The way it was supposed to be. A comfortable peace settled in his chest as he watched you from afar, laughing with your friend, Pepper as you cooked. A glass of wine in one hand while you stirred a pot with the other, lips curved into the most gorgeous smiles that always set his heart racing, Tony could feel the love radiating off of him.

Catching his eye, you winked, causing him to chuckle before making your way over, your beautiful face forming a frown as you saw the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Coffee? Really, Tony?” you placed your hands on your hips, giving him a stern look.

“And then you wonder why you can’t sleep at night.”

“I mean, I plan on keeping you awake with me…” he trailed off, smirking as he pulled you close by your waist.

“Oh? I didn’t know we had those kinda plans tonight, Mr. Stark.” your fingers had found their way into his hair while he placed soft kisses along your neck, feeling your body mold perfectly against him.

“Now you’ve got your reminder, haven’t you Mrs. Sta–”

Tony jolted awake, the sound of the buzzer outside broke the little dream into a sad reality. Once again, he had fallen asleep on the couch. A habit that Pepper hated, one that had led to several arguments in the past. The small screen by the door revealed your face, Tony’s previous dream flooding his mind once more, making him shake his head as if it could be brushed off.

“Hey!” you gave Tony a small smile, stepping inside the house and immediately noticing the blanket on his couch.

“Were you asleep? Shit! I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and waved it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, narrowing his eyes as he noticed something on the blouse you wore.

“I cleaned the house, it felt great! Which I don’t think I’ve said in what feels like forever. I also made those mini blueberry pies you like. Here.” you handed them to him, watching his face light up genuinely after weeks. It made all of the efforts worth it.

“You ate some too, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

Tony chuckled and reached out to pick up a tiny piece of fruit from your collar, his fingers linger over your skin. Looking down, you noticed the purple-red stain in a couple other spots too, mentally cursing yourself for being so sloppy.

“The stain is gonna set..” you murmured, trying to rub it off with your nails and failing.

“Um, you could wear one of my t-shirts, if you want. I’ll get one for you.” Tony suggested, promptly heading upstairs when you nodded in agreement.

Deciding on taking a shower while you were at it, you turned on the faucet and let the hot water cascade down your body, your weary muscles relaxing under it. Your mind went about this arrangement you had come to, you were living with your best friend’s husband for weeks now, sleeping in the guest bed, dealing with the deaths of your significant others who happened to be in an affair. It was all the makings of a drama movie.

Tony had been your support system, a shoulder to cry on and quite frankly the only person you could tolerate. He didn’t look at you with sympathy, nor did he offer unsolicited advice, he was just there, to hold your hand when you needed, to wipe your tears when you had bouts of anxiety and broke down, Tony was there and that was enough.

Slipping on his t-shirt felt oddly comforting, it smelt of something that was distinctly Tony Stark - a mix of coffee, cigarettes and cologne. Heading downstairs, you noticed him nursing a cup of coffee in his hands as he sat on the kitchen counter.

“Coffee? Seriously? It’s time for dinner, Tony Stark.” you shook your head, your voice breaking him out of his reverie.

His heart definitely skipped a beat. You sounded eerily similar to the dream he just had, two, you wore his clothes which made something bloom in his chest, something that was probably inappropriate. He found his restraint slipping by the minute.

Raising his hands in defeat, he placed the mug away and held out a bottle of wine for you.

“I had this one saved, I know it’s your favorite. What do you say?”

You could use a drink, you thought. Or ten. And the fact that he had your favorite bottle saved made you smile at his thoughtfulness. You had dinner in silence, a comfortable one though before Tony dug into one of the small pies you had made.

“I swear to God, I would’ve married you just for these.” he realized what he’d said the next second, quickly apologizing and cursing himself under his breath.

“I found Pepper’s clothes on his closet, Tony.”

You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to cause him more pain but it slipped out.

“I burned them.” you added quickly, watching him give you a small nod, as if to say it was the right thing to do.

“Fuck them.” you whispered.

“Yeah, fuck them.” Tony agreed, clearing out your plates. You watched him clean them, noticing he wasn’t wearing his wedding band anymore.

“Are we bad people, Tony?” you asked a few breaths later, staring out the window with your wine glass. Tony sighed, making his way over next to you, shoulders almost brushing.

“You know we’re not, Y/N. We deserve much better than we’ve had. Cheating is a choice, a choice they both made and broke vows. It doesn’t reflect our character, it reflects theirs.”

He was right. Somehow he always said the right things.

“Did you read this in a bad self-help book somewhere?” you jested, angling your body towards him after hearing him chuckle.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got about nine hundred quotes just ready to roll out whenever.”

You felt yourself laugh, a version of yourself that was earlier buried so deep down, you thought she’d never come out. Tony placed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers caressing your cheek softly as he stepped closer.

You swore your heart was beating loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes glancing down at his lips. Now just inches away, you placed your hands on top of his and took in a deep breath.

“We can’t, Tony.”

“Why not?” he hadn’t moved away, he touched his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, his breath mingling with yours.

“We’re not those bad people, remember?” you breathed, not really wanting him to go away but you had to do the right thing. You didn’t want him or you to regret what would happen in the spur of the moment. He kissed you on your forehead, his soft lips still lingering against your skin as he spoke.

“We are people who repressed our feelings for far too long though. I know I am.” he murmured, leaving you confused.

What did he mean? Repressed feelings?

Opening your eyes, you found his brown orbs imploring yours, saying everything that was left unsaid between you over the years. Cupping his face, he leaned into your touch instinctively, still not moving from his place.

“I’ve had feelings for you way before any of this happened, Y/N. I thought you knew.” he whispered.

You did. You just never found the courage to confront him about it or even act on your own. You were married to his best friend, for God’s sake. And now…

“Would you regret this if I told you how much I’ve wanted you, Y/N?”

Tony had been holding himself back for a long time, he couldn’t any more. He would stop if you told him to, no questions asked, but something inside him said you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“Answer me, Y/N. Would you regret it?”

Tears filled in your eyes and spilled over, down your cheeks where they met Tony’s gentle fingers that wiped them off. You were waiting for the voice inside your head to tell you this would be a mistake. That voice never spoke up.

“No.”

That simple word was a sentence in itself. It was all Tony needed to hear before closing the distance. He kissed you softly at first, melding his lips against yours as he pulled you against his chest. Kissing him was like coming home after a long, tiring day. It was new and yet familiar, like you were doing something right for once. He coaxed your mouth open to deepen the kiss, a mix of blueberries and wine that felt so right to him too.

Everything else felt like a beautiful blur to you. He carried you up the stairs, never breaking the kiss, laid you on the mattress, peeling his t-shirt off your body and admired your flushed skin. Nudging you with his nose, your eyes fluttered open to reflect zero traces of regret, giving him a signal to go ahead. You could think about the million other things running through your mind later, right now all that mattered was you and Tony.

His clothed shaft made its presence known as his hips drove forward, his head now dipped low between your breasts as he caressed your body. A needy moan left your lips as he peeled your shorts off, fingers teasing your moist entrance.

You undressed him quickly, wanting and needing him to make you feel good. Caging you with his arms on either side of your head, Tony pushed inside your heat, welcoming the warmth that enveloped his cock so well. His name fell from your lips in a soft sigh, urging him closer as you wrapped your legs around him.

Everything fell into oblivion as Tony fucked you, drove you to a point of ecstacy and held you as you fell apart. Kissed you like there was no tomorrow and yet all of his kisses felt like promises, promises of a better tomorrow. A future that would be better than your past, and your present.

#tony stark x reader #james rhodes x reader #tony stark angst #tony stark smut #fandom free bingo #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x pepper potts #tony stark fic #tony stark imagine #tony stark #james rhodes #pepper potts #the stark squad #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings #tony stark fluff

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Note

i was just rereading all of your stuff (as i do bc your writing is superior) and the limitless fic, i need a part 3 of bucky and reader in the supply closet and readers ex like over hears or something? and then bucky is just a cocky bastard (as he should be though) and just keeps going harder and tougher bc he knows and is so smug about it

18+

Warnings: So much smut.

Okay, this is long over due and we needed this, yes.

Part 1: Can you not...

Part 2: Limitless

"Bucky, we shouldn't" You whispered, your body betraying you because your panties were soaked and you wanted this, fuck you definitely wanted this. Bucky had come by to your office on one of his regular visits; this visit however, was far less than innocent. Bucky only had so much self restraint.

Whenever he came by, he'd end up stroking his cock afterwards, there was something about seeing you in your office clothes, your pretty skirt and blouse, heels clicking on the tile. He was already insatiable, but seeing you now while you were also wearing his tags was driving him feral.

You were bent over your desk, gasping when you felt his rock hard cock press against you from behind, grinding against you, a deep rumble from his chest slipping past his lips.

"C'mon baby, it'll be quick, don't you want my babies"

Your stomach clenched, whimpering as he grinded against you harder, gripping your hip with one hand, his metal hand slamming you against your desk, pressing you onto the surface between your shoulder blades.

"Daddy has so much cum to give you angel" He whispered, caging you under him, smirking when he felt you push your hips back onto him. Such a good girl.

"Give me your cum daddy"

Bucky didn't have to be told twice, he grabbed you and dragged you over to the supply closet, a cocky smirk playing on his lips before locking the door shut.

*****

The second the door locked, Bucky lifted you in his arms, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He pressed you against the wall, his thick cock rubbing and grinding against your soaked panties making you whine each time he rubbed your clit.

"So needy baby, you just need to be filled up, huh?" He whispered, nipping at your earlobe while you moaned in response, clawing at his back. There was no time for foreplay; he tore your panties off, shoving them into his pocket before unzipping his jeans and lining his cock up with your soaked entrance.

"You're so wet you little slut, who you this wet for"

"You Bucky" You moaned, clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill you. You gasped at the feeling of his cool metal hand smacking your cheek, tutting in disappointment.

"That's not what you call me princess, I haven't even fucked you yet and you're already cockdrunk. Maybe this will remind you what the fuck you call me" Bucky slammed his cock into you in one stroke, giving you zero time to adjust as he started pounding you against the wall.

"F-UC-K DADDY!" Your head was thrown back, starts immediately clouding your vision as his hips snapped into you. Bucky moaned into your neck, his cock already throbbing, he didn't want to cum yet but you made it impossible for him to last long.

"Dadddyyy" You sobbed, unable to formulate any other words, all you could register was his thick cock stretching you, already dripping pearls of precum into your soaked pussy.

"You're gonna make me a daddy princess, look at that pretty pussy swallowing my cock" Bucky pulled away from your neck staring down at where you were connected, his cock covered in your creamy slick.

"So creamy baby, fuck, look babygirl, you're making a mess all over daddy"

Bucky let out a dark chuckle, his heightened sense of hearing easily picked up on the same set of footsteps that kept walking by the closet. He knew exactly who it was. If he wanted to listen so badly, might as well make it worthwhile.

Bucky slammed into you harder, making you cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks, feeling his swollen tip rub against your g-spot, hitting it repeatedly.

"Da-da-dadd-yyy-fuckkkk" You could feel the band in your stomach about to snap, the trimmed hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit. You could hardly speak, overwhelmed with pleasure as Bucky gripped you tighter.

"My little cockdrunk baby, you gonna cum again baby? Can't even use her big girl words anymore, huh?" Bucky cooed mockingly, licking the tears that streamed down your face. "Milk my cock baby, milk your sergeants cock"

"Oh god, SEARGEANT-" You screamed, your moans muffled when Bucky smashed his lips onto yours, his balls starting to throb. His eyes locked with yours as he fucked you harder, he had to fill you, claim you and mark you as his.

"You're mine, you know that?" Bucky's voice was nearly a growl, his cock growing harder as he chased his high.

"M'yours daddy" You whimpered, pleasure overwhelming you. Bucky shook his head, he wanted everyone to know exactly who you belonged to.

"No, say my name baby, say my fucking name" He was jack hammering into you while you cried out, your entire body shaking in his hold.

"JAMES"

He needed to knock you up.

"Fuck that's right baby, keep saying it baby, whose cock owns this pussy"

"You Bucky, all you!"

Keep you nice and full with his cum.

"I know sweetheart, gonna make you such a beautiful baby, m'gonna cum babygirl, m'gonna get you pregnant" His eyes rolled back feeling your walls flutter, "Fuck, I wanna get you pregnant so bad babyy"

"Get me pregnant Bucky" You moaned, feeling his pace falter, his thrust growing sloppy. "C'mon, wanna have your babies Buckyy"

"FUCCKK" Bucky bit down onto your shoulder stilling his hips, his cum filling you and splattering onto the floor, giving you all of his load.

*****

Mark heard the sound of something crashing from one of the supply closet, reluctantly getting up to see what happened. He didn't mind going to the closet for the sole reason that he'd get to pass your desk. Unless that guy was there. He was pleasantly surprised when he didn't see any super soldiers but he couldn't find you either....

His eyes grew wide at the sounds of muffled moaning, the sounds of skin slapping on skin growing louder as he approached the door. He didn't need to open the door or stand there a minute longer to know exactly what was happening, your desperate needy cries for Bucky grew louder.

He couldn't help himself, walking by every so often, his mind racing the longer you stayed in there.

How long can this guy fuck for?!

Surely his dick isn't that big....he's a super soldier though...

You don't have to call him daddy every single time

Or sergeant

*****

Bucky kissed your forehead, helping you clean up with some paper towels before hugging you close to him and caressing your body. He'd make sure you got your after care even if you were in a supply closet. You sighed happily, your body still buzzing while Bucky's hand ghosted over your belly, his heart already hopeful.

"You think it worked?" You giggled, pecking a kiss onto his nose while he led you out, back to your office, giving Mark (who looked like he'd gotten war flashbacks) a cocky smirked as he passed by. Bucky pulled you down for a sweet his, looking over his shoulder to your ex who was glaring at the both of you.

"We should do this more often"

Part 1: Can you not...

Part 2: Limitless

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mentallyisekaid · 7 months

Text

「 ✦ Fatui Harbingers x Signora's Sister! Reader, PART 1 ✦ 」

---

[Part 1] Part 2 Part 2.5. Part 3

Pairings: only hinted/platonic (will change to something "more" later on if I decide to make more parts)

Warnings: spoilers regarding Signora's lore and a certain event in the Inazuma Archon quest, possibly some spoiler-ish stuff about other things too

Word count: 2.7k

This fanfic will include direct quotations from "Teyvat Chapter Interlude Teaser: A Winter Night's Lazzo" that belongs fully to miHoYo. I'll write these quotes in bold, so copyrights won't haunt me like Khaenri'ah lore :)

---

Even among the Harbingers, not much was known about the Fair Lady's (may she rest in peace) younger sister, except for the fact that you existed and had somehow managed to live for over 500 years, just like her. They were all aware of Signora's special circumstances that had made her essentially immortal, but Celestia knows how you had done it?

This is why you'd become something of a urban legend among the lower ranking members of the Fatui. Maybe La Signora had just been delusional, some of them thought - maybe there wasn't a sister, at least not anymore.

You were fine with that, though. You'd never wanted anything to do with your sister or her morally dubious organization anyway.

But she was still the only blood relative you'd had left, and now she was gone.

Attending her funeral was only appropriate.

You arrived at the grand doors of the cathedral, stopping for a moment to adjust the expensive-looking cloak that someone had sent you along with the invitation to the ceremony, requesting you to wear it. Much to your displeasure, it had the Fatui Insignia on it, though you were slightly more bothered by the fact that they'd somehow figured out where you live...

Or maybe they'd known all along.

But even if the invitation wasn't just out of courtesy, you had only showed up because Rosalyne was family, and only to pay your respects.

Their agendas meant nothing to you.

Pushing the doors open, you marched inside, the click-clack of your high heeled boots echoing in the eerie silence.

Curious gazes followed as this visitor, shrouded in mystery, made her way through the aisle - some of them curious, others a bit doubtful - but you ignored them.

Sitting down in the front row, you crossed your legs, leaning back with your eyes glued to the coffin highlighted by faint moonlight. A girl with child-like, seraphic features was leaning her head on its surface, singing a calming tune...

Spooky.

"Well, I never... this must be the Fair Lady's rumored sibling? And here I was starting to think you wouldn't make an appearance, dear."

You sighed, really having hoped that no one would bother talking to you; you had nothing to say to any of them. But for Celestia's sake, you still had some manners...

Glancing over your shoulder at the man who had just addressed you, you gave him a slight nod.

"It does seem my arrival was rather tardy. My apologies."

The man who you recognized as the Regrator, also known as Pantalone, chuckled a bit.

"No matter, it is rare a pleasure to finally meet you~"

"Likewise."

For a moment, your eyes wandered over each of the present Harbingers, these... co-workers of your sister's, before returning to stare in front of you just as indifferently as before.

You spoke a few more words, though.

"Everyone else as well, I suppose. Oh, and please pay no attention to my discourtesy... A lovely night for a funeral, is it not?"

Your charade was poorly put together, and intentionally so; you didn't know these people anymore than they knew you, but it was already clear that no one was here to pay their heartfelt respects for Rosalyne's memory, much less to exchange pleasantries.

A funeral? No, this was nothing but theatre - and here comes the first actor...

"We have gathered here today to remember our dear comrade. In honor of her sacrifice, all work should halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

Hearing these words come from Pulcinella, the Mayor of Snezhnaya himself, you mentally scoffed. So now these crazy diplomats justified mistakes as sacrifice?

Pantalone seemed amused by this declaration, though you noticed a shadow pass over his face.

"Hehe, merely half a day... People say that Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But Mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

Well, it was as you'd expected? Even in this situation, the Harbingers only cared about their own agendas, and Rosalyne would've been the same way.

The next words belonged to someone you found a bit more familiar.

"You speak of her as if you knew what she had to go through," the silver-haired woman started, a derogatory look in her dark eyes.

You glanced curiously at her. This was surely Arlecchino? Out of the Harbingers, your sister had seemed to trust her the most, so you assumed they must've shared some sort of a closer relationship.

The Knave noticed you gaze, and gave you a small nod before continuing.

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land. But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries, always with a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland... You couldn't hope to understand. So why don't you keep your mouths shut!"

"Ah, bravo...~" you commented with a small chuckle, your sudden boldness slightly surprising some of them.

It seemed that La Signora's hardly known sister was indeed an interesting individual?

The ginger sitting on the other side of the aisle apparently found your remark entertaining, since he gave you an amused smile. But he threw his comrade's a much sterner look.

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight."

Tartaglia, the infamous maniac always looking for a fight? Present~

"Utterly risible," a blonde woman scoffed from her place, sitting on the arms of a weird looking robot. Sandrone, you presumed.

And naturally, the oh-so righteous Capitano also had his opinion to share.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is still a great pity."

You sighed, shaking your head. There they go again, degrading her death as a mere sacrifice.

"Her loss shall not hinder our progress," the Captain continued, disregarding the matter. "But Dottore, what of Scaramouche --,"

...to which the crazy Doctor answered something incomprehensible.

Right. They weren't even talking about Rosalyne anymore. By now, the whole ceremony had turned out as a complete farce, and you wished nothing more than for Celestia to nuke it with another one of their divine nails.

Someone else had had enough as well.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics. This time, you have no captive audience."

The Jester's voice echoed menacingly in the cathedral, silencing his fellow Harbingers.

You gazed at him from your seat, raising an eyebrow when he gave you a look as well. In that short moment, unspoken words were shared between the two of you - after all, he knew things about you that the others didn't.

In any case, the speech went on for a while after that. Pierro's exaggerated sympathies, the Damselette needling Dottore about his segments, and... well, you weren't really listening anymore?

Once they finished and scattered from around the coffin, you silently walked over, placing a few frostbitten Cecilias on top of it. They were flowers from your homeland, though to you, Mondstadt was a memory at least five centuries old.

"Pretty flowers," a soft voice came from beside you. Columbina was back to presumptuously leaning on the casket.

You gave her a sidelong glance.

"Well, they're frozen to death by now - but that somehow fits the moment, no?"

"Mh-hmm~"

The ceremony was seemingly over, though you could still sense their presence. Your back was facing them, but it felt like they'd moved closer to the coffin again - or, perhaps, closer to you...

"I don't believe anyone has yet offered their condolences to this poor child," Capitano remarked solemnly, disregarding the fact you were chronologically speaking a living fossil.

Tartaglia sighed, "She doesn't want us to, I think."

You turned around to face them, crossing your arms.

"Well, firstly, you're calling me a child about 500 years too late. And no, I don't need your pity. It's hard to see your last family gone, but we weren't that close to begin with. Besides, Rosalyne knew full well what she was doing - when agreeing to a duel before the Shogun, and when joining the Fatui in the first place. You reap what you sow, and that's that."

The Doctor chuckled. "La Signora would surely turn over in her grave if she heard that."

"Let the dead rest, Zandik," Sandrone scoffed.

Columbina had scooted next to you.

"Poor thing~", she sang in that eerie voice, tilting her head. "How long have you been living by yourself? Maybe you could have Signora's former chambers in the headquarters."

Hmm? What a laughable suggestion, you thought. She was obviously toying with you.

Arlecchino gave the Damselette a warning look.

"Such a thing is something only the Director can decide. Though," she gave you an unreadable look. "I wouldn't be against it. In Rosalyne's honor, of course."

The usually ruthless Knave's comment was found somewhat unexpected among her comrades.

You gave her a weird look.

Something was clearly going on, the atmosphere was strangely expecting and you didn't like it in the slightest. It seems the theatrics weren't over after all?

Pantalone was gazing at you, an amused smile on his lips.

"You look a bit lost there, dear. Don't worry, Pierro will explain some things to you in a moment~"

You frowned. So, there was more in the game here - that letter wasn't just an invitation to the funeral of a sister you hardly even cared about, you'd doubted as much from the beginning.

Not that it really changed anything. As already mentioned, you'd only come for the ceremony...

And now that it was over, there was no reason for you to stay.

"That won't be necessary," you stated, nodding curtly. "I will be taking my leave now. Goodbye."

Your cloak shuffled as you walked past them, heading toward the exit. However, Childe, who had been standing the closest to the doors, now moved to block your way.

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Tartaglia, right? If you could move aside, that would be much appreciated."

"Sorry, no can do, girlie," he laughed a bit, scratching his neck in an awkward manner. "Boss wants to have a chat with you, so I can't just have you leaving like that, now can I?"

"Right," you sighed. "Well, I don't really care..."

You rudely moved past him, reaching the doors and about to push them open, when you suddenly felt a hand on your wrist. And the grip they had wasn't exactly gentle.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Childe still wearing that stupid smile of his but there was now a shadow over his usually cheerful expression.

"Look, you seem like a smart girl." His voice was soft and menacing at the same time. "Things don't have to get ugly here, if you just cooperate a bit."

Ugly? Oh, you could make things turn ugly.

But this wasn't the right time for that - not with the majority of the Harbingers present. It's not like you had a death wish, for Celestia's sake... though, it did seem like Tartaglia was only half serious about what he had said?

You looked past him, seeing the other Fatui diplomats standing there, all with hardly readable expressions on their faces. Your gaze stopped when it reached the Jester. If this was about Pierro having something to discuss with you, you were fairly sure you knew what he wanted anyway...

So, no harm in amusing him a bit?

"Ha. Well, it seems like I have no choice, then."

Childe smiled. "That's more like it."

He started making his way toward the front of the cathedral, while still holding onto your wrist - basically, he walked you back there like a toddler. After all, you might've had a change of heart any at any given moment and sprinted out of there like a lunatic.

You awkwardly sat down on one of the seats, wrapping the cloak around you tigther. The Harbingers were now standing in a semicircle in front of you, gazing down at you like their you were property. Pierro took a step forward.

"Now then, Y/N Lohefalter..."

"You are going to ask about my Visions, right?" you asked rudely. "As in, plural. Both of them. Is my assumption wrong?"

Pantalone chuckled. "Well, aren't you clever, my dear~"

"No, I always knew Rosalyne had told you, which is precisely why I tend to keep a lower profile than this. There's no reason to be so melodramatic over a couple of Visions."

Dottore seemed amused by your remark.

"But most humans never receive one. Yet, here you are, blessed with two."

"That, or cursed" you pointed out.

The Jester had allowed this interruption, but all it took was one gaze of authority from him and even you realized it was better to watch your mouth around this man. You tilted your head slightly downward.

"This assumption you made isn't necessarily untrue," Pierro stated in a low voice. "But it's not the whole truth, either."

It wasn't?

You heard footsteps approaching and carefully glanced up at Pierro who was now standing mere inches away from you. Things were getting more interesting, that's for sure.

"I asked you to come here today out of respect for Rosalyne's memory, and of curiosity toward the fact that you indeed bear the power of both Cryo and Pyro, much like your sister, albeit without a Delusion. My intention, however, was also to make a request of you..."

The Jester suddenly kneeled before you, his gesture confusing you. The infamous Director of the Fatui, kneeling before you?

You gave him a doubtful look.

"And what might that request be?"

"To put it simply, I want you to take Rosalyne's place as one of the Fatui Harbingers."

"...come again?"

The other Harbingers didn't seem surprised in the slightest.

You shook your head.

"You want me to join the Fatui?"

"We've been keeping a close eye on you, Y/N Lohefalter, ever since the Cataclysm and Rosalyne joining our ranks. Back then, she herself made the request that should she ever perish, you'd be asked to take her place."

"Ha," you chuckled. "That does sound like one of her selfish whims... but still, why would you even consider such a thing?"

You looked at Pierro, tilting your head.

"Can you really trust that my agendas align with yours?"

"Every person in this room has their own ideals and it has not proved to be a problem." The Director nodded. "You need not but work in the name of the Fatui, and swear your loyalty to the Tsaritsa. Of course, the latter is expected of you as a citizen of Snezhnaya anyway."

You crossed you arms, contemplating this unexpected proposal.

"And if I refuse?"

This earned displeased looks from the other Harbingers. Pierro's solemn expression, however, never faltered.

"It's far beyond my dignity to be forceful here. That would be disrespecting Rosalyne's legacy, and risking to make you a powerful foe of the Fatui."

He paused for a while.

"But I should also clarify that with the kind of power you hold, you are facing but two choices - to be with us... or against us."

So that's how it was going to be?

You'd almost forgotten that Pierro was still half-kneeling in front of you; even though one of his eyes was covered by a mask, his gaze held such intensity that you were completely enchanted by it for a moment.

And to think you'd make this kind of a decision on a whim, just like she once had - you really were more similar to your sister than you'd care to admit...

You sighed, standing up and glancing at the other Harbingers.

"Is this how he recruited you as well?"

Sandrone made a 'hmph' sound, "hardly."

"Heh, to think the Jester would kneel in front of someone?~" Pantalone commented. "You're quite an impressive girl, my dear."

"Then again," Dottore chuckled. "she has yet to meet the crueler side of the Director, no?"

Tartaglia sighed, "now, now, don't scare her away..."

Pulcinella and Capitano didn't seem too amused by their comrades' antics. You, on the other hand, had their undivided attention.

Columbina was sleepily humming along to some tune, giving you discreet glances.

Arlecchino shook her head.

"Pierro still awaits for an answer, Y/N. Despite of what he may seem like, the Jester is not a man of great patience. It's time for you to decide."

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"..."

"Then, I'm in?"

But for the love of the Tsaritsa, you had no idea what you'd just gotten yourself into.

#signora's sister #fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact

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