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fangswbenefits · 10 months

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A Series of Firsts

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

No warnings. Just pure fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Dad girl Miguel. Protective dad Miguel.

First Kick

“What colour should we have on the walls?” Miguel asked one day.

“Beige?”

“Boring.”

“Red?”

“Too much.”

“Red and blue?”

“That’s too… spidey.”

You giggled at his remark. “We’ll just pick a neutral one and let her decide as she grows up.”

“That’s settled, then,” he murmured, resting the side of his head on your baby bump as both of you lay comfortably on the bed.

“Fingers crossed for a zebra pattern in purple and green,” you teased.

“She can have whatever she wants,” he said simply and you knew he meant it.

Warmth spread in your heart, realising Miguel would give her anything she’d ask for. Even the moon.

As you rolled a single strand of his hair around your finger, you gasped abruptly and halted.

Miguel shot up straight in full alert mode. “What is it? Are you okay?”

You nodded, running both hands along your belly, waiting to feel it once more.

He immediately picked up on the meaning of your sudden silence and placed a splattered hand next to yours.

It didn’t take long for a second kick to be felt and you watched his face awe. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you whispered adoringly at his concern.

He paused briefly. “That was a strong kick.”

You placed your hand atop his. “She’ll take after you, then.”

First Time Meeting

Jessica placed the little bundle of joy into his arms as soon as the spider-nurses were done checking the vitals and dressing her.

“What is this?” Miguel asked with a light scowl, shifting to have the sleeping baby face you.

Even through your post-labour exhaustion you managed to giggle.

She was dressed in a red and blue suit-like onesie that had Peter’s face printed onto the fabric as rainbow coloured words read ‘my 1st spider suit’.

“Remind again me why we let him choose.”

“You know how Peter is,” you said softly. “It’s a very cute gift.”

“Right.”

Miguel didn’t seem all that convinced, but brought her back against his chest protectively.

You watched as Miguel’s hardened face immediately softened in adoration and, for a couple of minutes, he just stood there, rocking her lightly in his arms.

“She’s… tiny,” he concluded, fingers probing around her hand. “She’s perfect.”

He raised her slowly up to his face and he planted a soft kiss to her forehead, earning a sudden yawn.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to her, completely transfixed. “I’ll always protect you.”

Something inside you stirred. This big grumpy man with volatile moods had just been disarmed by a tiny baby.

That was definitely a sight to behold.

First Sleepless Night

“We’re not having another baby.”

“Agreed.”

“Ever.”

Miguel let out a measured sigh in agreement. “Ever.”

The two of you lay sprawled across the large bed, facing the ceiling as the first rays of sunshine began to lit up the room.

Your daughter had finally fallen asleep after hours of fighting against it, nearly driving both of you crazy in the process.

As you readied yourself to slide off the mattress, you felt Miguel’s hold on your wrist stilling you.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please.”

You groaned inwardly. “I need to go pee, Miguel.”

Sleepy and bloodshot eyes met yours. “It took us hours to drain her energy… hold it in for a while,” now that was a desperate tone if you’d ever heard one from him.

You heaved a long and heavy sigh, feeling his thumb gently rubbing at your pulse point in sheer gratitude.

“Yup. No more babies, O’Hara.”

“Maybe one more?”

You shot him a death glare and he swallowed hard.

“… or not.”

First Scare

You paced around the apartment, having already lost count of the amount of baby monitors that Miguel had spread all over the place.

“This is a bit too much, no?”

Miguel was checking on the sleeping baby through the orange-tinted screen of his dimensional travel watch when he turned to glare at you like you had just said the most abominable thing ever.

“You can never be too careful,” he said in disbelief.

It was to be expected, really. Miguel was always obsessed with security no matter the context, so you couldn’t really say this surprised you.

“Even the watch?” you asked in awe.

“Of course. It’s a looped system that transmits directly to both our watches,” he said with a nod. “Any alteration in her bedroom trigers an alarm.”

Ever the scientist.

His eyes dropped to the hologram on his wrist and he let out a gasp.

“What?”

“She’s gone!”

Your heart nearly collapsed as a feral Miguel immediately set himself on all fours towards her bedroom, clawing at floor.

“Miguel!” you called after him in a hurry.

Once you reached the open door, you were presented with Peter holding your daughter as Mayday chuckled happily, seated on his shoulder.

“Peter!” Miguel growled, yanking your daughter from his hold and bringing her close to his chest defensively.

“Miguel! We were just paying a visit,” he chuckled. “Cute baby, by the way,” he turned to you with a smile and a flick of his fingers.

But Miguel was having none of that. “Out!”

Mayday stuck out her tongue at him right away, a habit she had yet to let gonof whenever Miguel was around.

“Lyla, why wasn’t the alarm triggered?”

The AI appeared by his shoulder at once, filing her nails. “You forgot to activate the security system, boss.”

First Word

“Pa~pá! Say it. Paaa~pá!”

“Cheater!” you exploded as you entered the kitchen in large steps.

Miguel turned to face you as your daughter giggled.

“We promised to let it be something spontaneous,” you lifted an accusing finger at him. “Cheater!”

He lifted both hands defensively. “I’m just giving her some help.”

In truth, you weren’t upset with him in the slightest. He had been such a constanr presence in his daughter’s life even through an exhausting amount of work around Nueva York.

You feigned indignation crossing your arms across your chest.

Miguel picked her out of the baby chair and walked towards you with a tentative smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Your front broke right away as he leaned to nudge his forehead against yours. “You’re still a cheater,” you accused, not able prevent your lips from curling into a smirk.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Your daughter started clapping enthusiastically. “Petaah~” and then burst into laughter.

Miguel looked down at her in shock. “What?”

It was almost comedic irony that the first word your daughter said was Peter, which had Miguel sulk for a couple of days.

First Steps

You missed kissing Miguel with no interruptions. Having some alone time in between taking care of your daughter was not easy to come by.

So whenever there was an opening, you’d both make it count.

He had your back pressed against the cold surface of the bedroom wall in no time, framing your face with both hands to deepen the searing kiss.

You melted into his touch right away, yearning for more.

Miguel broke the kiss momentarily to check his watch, panting lightly. “She’s still in the living room.”

You sighed in relief as he took your lips in his once more, hungrier this time. Both of your hands were resting on his firm chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.

Miguel hummed into you, swallowing your gasps and moans.

Your eyes were about to flutter shut when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye.

Panic took over and you immediately pushed Miguel away with a yelp.

Standing by the door was your daughter, gripping the frame with tiny hands, barely able to keep her balance.

Miguel offered her a kind smile. “Hey, you… come here.”

Your heart was hammering hard in your chest as you struggled to even your breathing.

She broke into an amused chuckle, wobbling in Miguel’s direction as he dropped to one knee. “Come here,” he encouraged.

But she would only take a couple of steps before her legs gave out under her to have her sit on the floor.

This was evidently very amusing as she kept trying to mimic her first attempt in between laughter

Miguel exchanged a proud smile with you and, for the first time in a long, you didn’t mind being interrupted.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv miguel

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yandere-daydreams · 1 month

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file #4: the body mod fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!wriothesley x reader (genshin).

length: 3.1k.

warnings: non/con touching + groping, nonconsensual piecing, dubiously consensual tattoos, permanent body modification, intimidation, needles, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Just one?”

The question had been hushed, meek, directed more towards your lap than the man sitting across from you. The warden – Wriothesley, you chided yourself, biting the inside of your cheek and attempting to remember what he’d asked you to call him, Wriothesley – broke into a wry smile, but nodded, leaning back in his armchair. “Just one,” he reassured. “And you’ll taken care of until your release date.”

You didn’t respond, but he must’ve seen the way you paled at the suggestion. “Having second thoughts?”

“No, it’s just—” You grit your teeth. Your eyes flitted up momentarily, but fell back to your legs just as quickly. “I… I’ve never really liked needles, I guess.”

You could see his eyes light up, his grin broadening as he tried to stifle his laughter. You scowled, but couldn’t blame him. He was used to dealing with hardened criminals, the scum of Teyvat, thieves and spies and murderers, and here you were – on the verge of fainting because he asked you to get a tattoo. “I promise, you don’t have anything to worry about.” At least he was trying to sound comforting, even if it was clearly a half-hearted effort. “I’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”

And he had, in a way.

You just wished he would’ve mentioned that those hands would be his own.

Calloused fingertips dug into your bicep as a scarred palm pressed into your skin, keeping one of your arms loosely secured against the mattress of the cot while the other was pinned between the bedframe and his chest (the placement unintentional, or so you hoped). You’d been shaking when he brought out that terrible machine – a vial of dark ink trapped inside of a cage of copper and steel; a single, silver needle protruding out of one end and a leather grip wrapped around the other – but it’d only taken an hour for fear to fade into boredom, another for boredom to drag on into a rotting, discolored sort of exhaustion. For as much as you’d been dreading it, there was more pressure than pain. It was repetitive, if anything – a monotonous pierce, stab, pierce, stab that you could only try your best not to focus on. You could already feel an ache settling below the skin of your shoulder, already knew that you wouldn’t be able to lift your arm for days, but you tried not to—

His needle stabbed into the thin skin over your shoulder blade, and you couldn’t stop yourself – letting out a low hiss as you flinched into the cot’s thin mattress. You expected Wriothesley to laugh, to drag a damp cloth over the affected area and mutter something like ‘bear with me’ or ‘my bad, love, my bad’ like he had a dozen times before, but instead, there was a muffled click as he switched off his awful machine, a dull clatter as he dropped it onto a bedside table already crowded with bottles of disinfectant and the nurse’s bizarre tools. “We’ll stop here. It’ll take another session, but I think you’ve been through enough for one day. For a virgin, especially.”

You were only half-listening; the phantom of his machine still buzzing in your ears. “Are you sure?” You asked, trying to hide how desperate you were not to spend another night in the empty infirmary with a man you barely knew. “It’s not that bad, I can go for another—”

“I’m sure. Sit up, I’ll let you have a look.”

You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest. You could see how Wriothesley had gotten into such an authoritative position. The way he spoke, his constant undertone of stern stability – it was hard to so much as imagine talking back to him, let alone breaking one of the rules that’d been meticulously and painstakingly drilled into you when you’d arrived at the Fortress of Meropide a little under a week ago. Still, you’d been terrified – too scared to so much as speak to another prisoner for the first two days. You weren’t dangerous. You couldn’t hold your own in a fight, or protect yourself if someone else, someone stronger decided they had a problem with you. You could barely even call yourself a criminal, but apparently, the Iudex hadn’t agreed. You’d been on your way to the fortress before he could finish reading out your sentence, and now, you were trapped in the darkest, deepest place in all of Fontaine, alone and so, so painfully vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for Wriothesley, you probably would’ve requested to forgo your imprisonment entirely and be sent straight to the gallows.

A hand on your shoulder, a softened lull to his voice. “You can sit up, can’t you? I’ll have to call Sigewinne, if you’re in that much pain.”

“Right, I— uh, sorry,” You stammered as you shook your head and pushed yourself up, careful to keep the thick, overly starched cot sheet pressed to your chest. The infirmary was empty, the door locked and sealed, and while Wriothesley hadn’t seemed to think much of ordering you to take off your shirt and lay face-down, you couldn’t bring yourself to brush off the stark, damp chill that came with any amount of exposure in the fortress so easily. You guessed that, after enough time, you’d get used to it. You guessed that, when you did, the thought of not being so cold so constantly wouldn’t make you feel so sick. “I… I think I’m still getting used to this,” you went on, with a strained smile. “Still a little out of it, I guess.”

“That’s alright, love. We all take a few months to find a way to cope.” When you glanced over your shoulder, there was already a mirror in his hand – a compact, small enough to fit in his palm. You had to crane your neck to see it, but Wriothesley knew how to strike the right angle, and soon enough, the sprawling, spiraling pattern stretching from the lower curve of your shoulder blade to the ball of your shoulder came into view. It took you a moment to make out the pattern, but relief accompanied the delayed realization. Lumidouce bells, all blossoming and linked together by a single vine. He’d finished the linework, and there was a smattering of color in the bottom corner – only, oh, he’d gotten the shade wrong. Rather than deep violet, he’d used a light blue, more similar to ice than the water nearly everything in Fontaine stole its palette from. Judging by his expression, though, all beaming pride and low-brewing mirth, he hadn’t caught the mistake. “What do you think? Don’t keep me in suspense, now.”

“It’s… nice,” you said, the sentiment sincere despite your hesitance. And then, laughing, “I was—Well, it feels a little silly now, but I was terrified you’d leave me with, I don’t know, a sea monster or a giant wolf or something.”

“Maybe next time. Not a wolf, though - you don’t strike me as that vicious.” You bit your tongue, forcing yourself not to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time and opting to focus on the soreness starting to knot in your shoulder, instead. You swung your legs over the side of the cot, moving towards where you’d left your shirt draped over an unopened crate, but Wriothesley caught your wrist, tugging you gently back onto the thin mattress. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his playfulness suddenly more irritating than it had been, a few second ago. “I don’t think we’re finished, yet.”

Not for the first time, your smile wavered. “I… I thought we only agreed to one, sir.”

“Of course.” He squeezed your wrist teasingly. “One of each.”

Something heavy and spiked dropped into the pit of your stomach. This time, you couldn’t help the way your expression dropped. “Sir, that’s really not what I—”

“It’ll be worse the longer you put it off.” You weren’t dangerous. You weren’t a criminal. You weren’t strong, but Wriothesley was. Before you could so much as push yourself to your feet, his arm was around your waist and he was perched on the edge of the cot, one leg tucked underneath him to make more room for your body, soon pulled between his thighs. The back of your shoulder screamed where it pressed into his chest, but you managed to swallow the little, pitiful sound threatening to bubble past your lips and clung to your sheet – suddenly so much thinner than it’d seemed, seconds prior. If Wriothesley noticed your apparent panic, the distress of his prisoners was an inconvenience he was willing to endure. Only half-consciously, you tried to shove yourself away from him, but his muscle-bound arm was snaked around your waist before you could gain any distance, keeping you flush against his broad chest. He was so much bigger than you’d realized, when he was on the other side of that desk, when he was engraving something intrusive and permanent into the very fabric of your being. This had been a bad idea. Trusting anyone here had been a bad idea. You should never have—

Your elbow slammed into his diaphragm, and Wriothesley let out a slow grunt, his fingers burrowing into the plush of your side. “Easy now, love,” he half-muttered, half-breathed, bowing his head to speak into the side of your throat. “We had a deal, remember? Can you tell me what it was?”

“You—you said I wouldn’t get hurt if—” You forced yourself to stop, to swallow, to breathe. “But, I only agreed to get one tattoo, and you—”

“I said I’d take care of you. Get you a nice, cushy job with the fortress administrator, keep you out of any over-crowded bunks, make sure the other prisoners don’t cause you any trouble – that kind of thing. I’m really not supposed to play favorites, so even doing that much is going to take more than a little discretion on my part.”

“But, you offered to—”

“I said I’d take care of you, and I’m going to.” You could see him fishing something off of the bedside table with his free hand, but you forced yourself not to look, not to make the ever-growing pit in your stomach feel that much more hollow. “You’ve heard a few stories about what it’s like in the underworld, right? I try to keep all of you nice n’ safe, but a few are bound to fall through the cracks. Rehabilitation can only do so much and—well, I’m sure you know all about how bloodthirsty desperation can make someone.” There was a pause, an ebbing lull to the tenderness in his voice. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, sweetheart. Are you going to help me get a little practice in, while I do that?”

Practice. If he wanted practice, you were sure there were another hundred prisoners who’d willingly lay down and let him carve a hole through whatever he wanted to. Still, you did your best to calm yourself down, to stop thrashing, to shut your eyes and try to ignore the large, pulsing thing you could feel pressing into your ass. You didn’t nod, didn’t give him permission, but when his fist balled around the infirmary sheet and tugged it away from you, the only resistance you managed to scrape up was a slight frown and a wary glance in his direction. “You’re already in for a rough night,” he explained, as if that was any excuse. “Might as well get the hardest one out of the way first, right?”

You refused to let yourself linger on the implication that this wasn’t going to be the last, too.

You clenched your eyes shut as his large hand pawed at the right side of your chest, kneading into the softened flesh with an almost delicate sort of care. “It’s easier after a little stimulation,” he murmured, as if that meant he had to spend so long circling your nipple with a calloused thumb, occasionally swiping over the sensitive bud in a way that made your thighs twitch and your face burn. When your nipple was stiff and pebbled, he pulled away, but it was a momentary reprieve – torn away from you with a splash of freezing disinfectant. It dripped down your chest and filled the stagnant air with a thick, chemical haze as Wriothesley caught your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching tightly. You felt the long, curved tip of his piercing needle against your skin, and braced yourself for the pain. Wriothesley wasn’t kind enough not to drag it out, though. “Wanna count me down?”

You shook your head, pushing yourself that much closer to his chest, desperate for any kind of stability. You’d hoped that Wriothesley would take your clear obstinance as a sign not to drag it out any longer, but he seemed to savor it – the agony of the wait, the way the dread seemed to multiply tenfold every time you forced yourself to suck in a ragged inhale. Seconds seemed to pass like frozen honey, only just beginning to drip. You’d started to think he wouldn’t do it, that he’d just laugh and admit this was all part of some bizarre, invasive hazing ritual when Wriothesley let out an airy chuckle and plunged his needle into you.

Oh, archons.

You really thought the tattoo would’ve been worse.

It was faster, at least; a bright shock of pain followed immediately by a steady, throbbing sort of ache that seemed to drown out every other sensation and fill your mind with a buzzing, numbing static. You didn’t realize your eyes had shot open on reflex until tears blurred your vision, until you glanced down just in time to watch as he dragged the needle through and replaced it with a small, silver stud – a barbell, as wrong as it felt to think of yourself having something so vulgar attached to you. You were crying unabashedly by the time he finished, pain and humiliation dripping down your cheeks in hot, wet streams, but Wriothesley’s shallow pool of sympathy must’ve run dry. “Ah, don’t make that face, sweetheart – we’re only halfway done.” You felt him panting into the crook of your neck as his hand found the other side of your chest. The last threads of his veil of composure frayed and broke apart as he groped unabashedly at your chest, toying with your nipple as your sobs echoed off of the clinic walls. You felt something thick and hot and wet crash against your collarbone and drip down the curve of your chest, and forced yourself to believe it was only disinfectant. That there was nothing it could’ve been except disinfectant.

Wriothesley’s hips rocked against your ass, the rigid outline of his cock pressing into you, incinerating any lingering delusions you might’ve had of helpful prison wardens exchanging one favor for another. Five fingers bit into the plush of your chest as he brought his needle to your unmutilated nipple, his hand surprisingly steady despite the airy, drawling moans he was pouring into your throat. “P-please don’t,” you managed, fighting to speak above the pathetic cries and choking fear doing their best to strangle out your voice. “Please, I can’t—I don’t want to—”

But, Wriothesley wasn’t listening. It wasn’t a spark, this time, but a red-hot knife, stabbed deep into your chest and twisted as far as it could go. You heard Wriothesley let out a rough groan, felt something warm and damp against your ass, and then, you were gone.

You startled awake hours later; bolting upright as you heaved in jolting, uneven inhales. Immediately, pain knocked you out of your panicked daze – sharp and piercing, imbedded into the back of your shoulder and either side of your chest, strong enough to remind you to measure out your breathing and calm down before you blindly threw yourself back into a seething pit of violent criminals. It took you a second to realize that you weren’t on an undersized infirmary cot, anymore, and another to piece together where he’d taken you – a bedroom nearly triple the size of your bunk. The warden’s chambers, you figured, as you scanned over the limited decoration and piles of dust-coated paperwork stacked onto every possible surface. Wriothesley’s room.

Wriothesley’s bed, at that. A cold chill ran down your spine as you realized that he’d taken the time to strip you out of your ill-fitting coveralls and redress you in a shirt sizes too big to be one of yours – the bleached, threadbare material a stark contrast to the satin sheets draped over your legs. You started to push them away and move towards the edge of the mattress, but froze as a door on the far side of the room creaked open – Wriothesley slipping inside and letting the door shut behind him. He moved away from it quickly, but as it closed, you could’ve sworn you heard the muffled, deafening click of a lock sliding into place and cutting you off from the rest of the world – or, the rest of the underworld, rather. As if there was anyone out there who would bother to save you, even if they could try.

“There’s my sleeping beauty.” He grinned as he lowered himself on the side of the bed, positioning himself closer to you than he absolutely had to. He reached out, moving to cup your face, but quickly let his hand fall back to his side when you flinched away. His smile dimmed, but didn’t fall away. “Get a chance to see the improvements, yet?”

After a second of hesitation, you shook your head, and he nodded to your chest - the gesture more of an order than a suggestion. Reluctantly, you pinched your collar between two fingers and peeled away from your skin. Through the narrow sliver, you could see his handiwork: a pair of twin rings hanging from either nipple, connected by a thin, lax, silver chain – so light, you could barely feel it brushing your diaphragm as the air caught in your chest.

You dropped the collar before you could give in to the nausea beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t bear to look at Wriothesley, so you kept your eyes on the sheets, kneading at the fabric half-consciously as you struggled to find your voice. “That wasn’t what we agreed to,” you muttered, mostly under your breath. “Can I go back to my bunk, now?”

His smile took on an almost apologetic note. You tried again. “Am I... Am I going to be able to leave?”

This time, when he reached out, flinching away wasn’t enough to stop him – his hand catching your chin and drawing you that much closer to him. You tried to lurch away, but it was too late, his lips were already crashing into yours, his tongue already slipping past your teeth and raking over your own. While your eyes widened in shock, his went half-lidded, closing just a second too late. Abruptly, it occurred to you that you’d never really noticed the color of his eyes – a pale, faded blue. The color of the half-formed flowers currently stretching across your back.

Wriothesley’s hand slipped to the nape of your neck. You let your eyes fall shut, and did your best not to think at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader

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golden-cherry · 5 months

Text

deal - cl16 (20/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's one person that you don't want to see standing in front of your door in the middle of the night.

Warnings: angst (like, a lot), super many swear words, asshole!Charles, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, Raphael

Word Count: 3.7k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: couldn't let you wait another week after that cliffhanger. thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start. couldn't have done it without you. here's to 20 chapters and so much more to come.

It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light and you recognize who is standing in front of your apartment door. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, and as soon as you recognize the face of the person who hurt you, you push against the door with all your strength to slam it shut.

But Raphael is quicker and shoves his foot in between. "I just want to talk."

You briefly consider kicking his shoe and kicking him out of the door frame. Something that would certainly hurt a lot barefoot. But you can't take a step back to slip into your shoes either, because Raphael would see that as an invitation. So you stand there rooted to the spot, your fingers clasped around the door handle and your shoulder leaning against the door so that at least some counterbalance keeps him from entering the apartment.

"Please, Y/N."

"What about my previous behavior makes it seem like I'm in any way interested in having a conversation with you?" you hiss hostilely in a hushed voice. After all, the neighbors don't need to hear what's going on in the hallway in the middle of the night.

He raises his hands placatingly. "I know you want to sort this out between us as much as I do."

"I want you to leave me the hell alone." You lean against the door a little more so there's more pressure on the sides of his foot, forcing him to pull it out sooner or later.

"This can't really be what you want. Please, Y/N." He tilts his head. "We both know how much you miss me. And how much you need me."

You have to stifle your laughter, even though there's nothing at all funny about this situation. "I'm not the person who keeps calling my ex and suddenly turns up at the door in the middle of the night."

"I just want to explain myself. And that everything is like it used to be."

"Then you shouldn't have been fucking other women." Your tone is icy. "Why can't you just leave me alone and get out of my life?"

Raphael crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he's offended that you're seriously asking him that. "Because I love you. So let me in, please."

You narrow your eyes. "Not a chance."

His gaze, which looked halfway human a moment ago, hardens. "Is he here? Is he listening to us right now?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Don't play dumber than you are. I'm talking about your fucking roommate I spoke to on the phone the other day." He puts a palm against the door and you feel his weight pressing against you. "Is he here?"

By now you're bracing yourself against the door with all your weight. Your heart is hammering in your chest. Raphael is not someone who would hurt anyone else. But his cold stare and the pressure against the door make you think otherwise. Must make you think something else to protect yourself. If he manages to walk through that door - thank God Charles is in Italy.

"This is none of your business," you try to say as normally as possible.

"If some random guy is fucking my girlfriend, then it is definitely my business."

"I'm not your girlfriend, remember? You cheated on me and dumped me." You take a deep breath to get rid of the tremor in your voice. "So just leave me alone. I don't want anything more to do with you."

Raphael laughs. "I didn't cheat on you." When you raise an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "My God, so I slept with a few women, so what? I had needs. And you didn't want to."

You're on the verge of crushing his foot. "Are you actually listening to yourself? Do you hear the complete bullshit you're talking?"

"Don't be like that. I bet you've been sleeping with your roommate to get one over on me, too." He leans a little in your direction. "Why don't you explain to me why you slept with him but not with me, your boyfriend?" When you don't answer him, but just look at him venomously, a disgusting grin spreads across his face. "I'm telling you: because you're a little bitch." He takes his hand off the door and instantly your body relaxes a little. But the calm doesn't last long. "Did you hear that?" Raphael suddenly yells through the hallway, waking up all the neighbors within a 200-meter radius. "She's a little bitch. Come and get her. She really gets it on with everyone."

You open the door a little, but only to stand fully in the doorway. "Are you crazy? Be quiet, you'll wake up the whole of Monaco!"

His head jerks in your direction. "Why? Don't you want your roommate to know who you really are?"

If Raphael hadn't been shouting like that, you would certainly have heard the loud footsteps coming up the stairs. But all you see is a shadow and then you see familiar green eyes looking into yours. Charles is standing on the top step of the stairs, his eyes fixed on you, but before you can say anything, ask him why he's not in Italy, his gaze flits to Raphael and even from a distance you can see that Charles' body is tensing.

Raphael follows your eyes and takes a step back when he sees your roommate standing in front of him. Charles could have been anyone - a neighbor complaining about the noise, a delivery man dropping off food - but from the way the Monegasque is glaring at your ex, there's no doubt. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?" Raphael runs his fingers nervously through his hair before taking a step in Charles' direction and holding out his hand. "Wow, it's an honor to meet you! I'm a big fan!"

Charles Leclerc? Honor? Big fan?

Charles looks down at the outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake before he pushes past the man without answering and positions himself in front of you. You see his tense back muscles dance beneath his sweater as he turns to Raphael. "You should go."

"I think you've got this whole thing wrong," your ex tries to wriggle out of the situation. "Y/N is my girlfriend and we-"

"Ex-girlfriend," the brunette interjects without batting an eyelid.

Raphael scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we're just trying to sort that out. Would you please give us a moment so we can work this out?"

Charles doesn't even need to turn around to know that's the last thing you want. "No. I'm sure there's nothing to sort out. I'm not going to ask you to leave again."

Your ex snorts and raises his hands placatingly. "I don't want to argue with you. Like I said, I'm a huge fan and I watch every race. But the matter only involves Y/N and me, which is why I'm asking you to step aside so we can work this out."

"And I said no." His tone is cool and calm, almost threatening, and his gaze is so piercing it sends a cold shiver down your spine.

Raphael rolls his eyes. "And I thought you were a cool guy. That's how you come across on TV, anyway." He takes a step towards you both and Charles pushes himself completely in front of you so that you can no longer see Raphael. "Your little girlfriend there is a slut, did you know that? A stupid little whore who-"

"Do you actually like your job? You still work in accounting at this one company, don't you? With the emphasis on 'still'," Charles asks calmly. As your ex takes a step back, Charles takes a step forward. "So if you want to keep it, I suggest you leave Y/N alone once and for all. You won't show up here, you won't call her again, you won't even think about her. And if you even think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you can't find a job anywhere. Do you understand me?" When your ex doesn't answer, Charles takes another step, causing Raphael to flinch and almost fall down the stairs. "Did you hear me?"

"Clearly and distinctly."

"Good." You can hear Charles' friendly smile. "Have a good evening, then." He looks after Raphael, who quickly scurries down the stairs, and only turns to you as the front door slams shut.

But instead of asking you if everything is all right, he storms past you into the apartment without a word. You quickly close the door behind you, follow him on foot and find him in the bedroom, where he pulls a large sports bag out of the chest of drawers, which he carelessly throws onto the rumpled bed. He starts to clear out the closet.

"Charles?" you ask hesitantly, but remain standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?" When he doesn't answer, but pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and taps on it briefly before pocketing it again, you enter the room. "Charles? Say something, please."

"What do you want to hear from me?" he asks coldly, grabbing some clothes from the closet. Only when you take a closer look do you realize that these are your clothes that didn't fit in your small suitcase.

"I don't know," you answer helplessly. "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't even look at you. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing your things." He stuffs one of your shirts into the small side pocket. "So we can finally move out of here."

Confused, you look at him and sit on the edge of the bed. Far enough away from him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really think you're going to stay here one more day after your crazy ex turned up? You were going to move out anyway, so we might as well get this over with."

You had told him that you were leaving this apartment, but you never expected him to throw you out of the apartment himself. Especially not today, when he wasn't supposed to be in Monaco, but in Italy. "Are you kicking me out?"

Charles zippers up the bag before placing it next to the suitcase and pulling the next bag out of the dresser and fills it with clothes. "Didn't you listen to me? We're moving out. I'm not leaving you alone in this apartment for another moment."

Charles's change of mood almost gives you whiplash. Yesterday he threw the nastiest words at you, made you cry and hurt you so much that you were seriously considering leaving the country. And now he's standing there packing your things into sports bags because he what? Doesn't want your ex to come back here to harass you again?

Puzzled, you sit on the bed while Charles goes through the apartment and collects all the personal belongings he can find.

Why is he here when he's supposed to be in Italy? Why is he packing your things so that you can move out of this apartment if he doesn't care about you? And the biggest question is - how does Raphael know Charles? What races was he talking about? Why does he know him from TV?

Who is Charles Leclerc?

"Here, get changed," he snaps you out of your thoughts and throws you a pair of sweatpants and the white sweater he was wearing in the bookstore. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you to freeze to death." He grabs the bags and disappears out of the bedroom to give you some privacy.

You quickly change, pull his sweater over your head and as you breathe in his scent, you could cry. The fact that Charles is here, defending you after he treated you so badly, confuses you so much that you don't know which way is up and which way is down. After yesterday, you hate him, you want to hate him, but Lando's words haunt your mind and apparently there's some truth to them, because otherwise Charles wouldn't have driven all the way to Monaco in the middle of the night.

But why is he here? Why did he leave his meetings so much earlier? Did he feel guilty? Did Lando talk to him? Why is he back here with you after just one day?

He doesn't even look at you when you leave the bedroom in his clothes. He just grabs the bags and your suitcase and you're about to ask him if you should carry something too, but he's already disappeared out of the front door and into the dark hallway. You quickly grab the last of your belongings and follow him down the stairs, but instead of heading for the underground parking garage, he leaves the house and heads towards the street.

"Where are you going?" you ask, out of breath, when you finally catch up with him. Without a word, he stops in front of a black car with a red and white stripe across it. It looks expensive, much more expensive than your old Renault, which is only confirmed by the horse on the hood and rims. "Whose car is this?"

"Get in," he says curtly as he unlocks the luxury ride and starts to put the bags away. When you don't move, he turns to you. "I won't say it again. Get in the damn car, Y/N."

"Why?" you ask, confused and also a little desperate. "Why would I get in the car with you? Give me one good reason."

Annoyed, he runs his hand through his hair so that it stands on end. "Either you get in the car now or I'll make you. It's your decision."

You cross your arms in front of your chest. By now you're annoyed by his behavior. "You can't force me."

"You bet I can." He takes a step closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Get in the fucking car."

There's a twinkle in his green eyes that stops you from challenging him. Silently, you get in on the passenger side of the car and plop down on the leather seat as Charles circles the hood. A few minutes later, as you're driving along Monaco's streets, the silence between you is unbearable.

"Where are we going?" you ask, but get no answer. The Monegasque drives the car over the asphalt with an angry look on his face, even driving too fast, but he doesn't seem to care. "At least you can tell me where you're taking me. You owe me that after you dragged me out of the apartment."

"We're going to my other place."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "The one Annika lives in?"

Charles takes a turn without using his blinker. "Yes."

"And how do you picture that?" You turn in his direction. "You want me to share the apartment with your ex? Are you completely insane?"

He exhales loudly. "She won't be there when we get there."

"We? What do you mean 'we'?"

"I have to stay somewhere. Now that we both can't stay in the second apartment anymore."

Your voice sounds a little shrill as you answer him. "I wasn't planning on moving out of one apartment so I could move into another with you. Drive me to a hotel or somewhere else, but I don't want to live with you."

After all, he was the reason you wanted to move out of the apartment in the first place. He treated you badly, let you down - why should you spend another night with him? Especially since he still seems angry with you?

As the car comes to a halt, he looks over at you. "I don't care what you want right now. You're staying here tonight where I know you're okay and that asshole can't get too close to you. Tomorrow you can throw every insult you can think of at me, but right now you do what I tell you. Do you understand me?"

His authoritative and commanding tone leaves no room for discussion, so you just nod silently and get out of the car. You are in an underground parking garage, similar to the other one, but there are other cars here. Expensive cars, like the Ferrari you drove here in.

Are these all his cars? Where did Charles get the money for a Ferrari? What-

"Come on. I won't wait forever." His voice brings you back to reality and like a toddler you follow him out of the garage, into the elevator and finally into the apartment, which is surprisingly empty. You don't have a moment's peace to look around as Charles has already unlocked a room and put your things inside.

"The guest room is unused." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I know it's not the best solution for everything here, but I can't change it now. If you want to move out tomorrow, then do so. But please do me a favor and stay here tonight." His expression is softer and his voice is a little warmer than it was a few minutes ago, but that doesn't make you forget how the evening went.

"I'll be gone in the morning," you reply stubbornly, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Charles just nods and leaves you in the hallway so that you can enter your room undisturbed and keep to yourself.

After closing the door behind you, you take off your warm clothes and fall onto the bed in your underwear without turning on the light. It is unused, the comforter is spread out on the mattress and the pillows feel as plush as if they had just been fluffed up. But as soon as your head touches the soft fabric and you breathe in, you are completely enveloped in Charles' scent. And you can't stop the tears streaming down your face as your body finally comes to rest.

The fact that Raphael suddenly turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night has already thrown you off course. You never expected him to have the nerve to show up at your place - a pretty stupid thought when you remember that he had already tried to find you there recently. But actually seeing him, listening to his garbage, really ruined the evening that Lando had actually saved so far.

And then came Charles, your knight in shining armour, who stood up for you so heroically and defended you, even though he had broken your heart just one day before.

His behavior is completely at odds with what he's doing.

He drags you out of the apartment so that Raphael can no longer find you there, but forces you to go with him to this apartment, even though he knows that you don't want to have anything more to do with him.

He packs your things, wants you to spend the night with him so he can be sure you're safe, but is so cold and dismissive to you that you might think Charles has multiple personalities.

And then there's the fact that Raphael seems to know him. Even his full name. And he didn't pronounce it the way you do with people you just haven't seen for a long time but happen to meet on the street. His intonation was different, as if the name Charles Leclerc carried weight, as if he was something special, as if you had to know him. But who the hell is Charles Leclerc?

Is he the man who took you in when you didn't know where to go? The one in whom you found a friend you never really wanted to miss? The one you fell in love with without even wanting to?

Or is he the man who hurt you, rejected you, only to stand up for you in a domineering and possessive way? The one who took your heart and trampled on it, only to do everything he could to keep you safe a day later?

Who is Charles Leclerc?

Your shoulders shake and your breath comes in painful gasps as you wrap your arms around your middle and press your face into the pillow. Your throat feels constricted, your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump out of your chest. And this headache. They make you blind and deaf, which is why you don't notice the door to your room quietly opening and then falling back into the lock.

Only when you feel the mattress lower behind you do you realize that Charles is with you. You want to turn to him, scream at him and send him packing, but you don't get the chance. Your tears stifle every sound and your body is shaking so badly that you can do nothing but lie there.

You don't question it when you feel Charles' chest against your back. "I'm here," he whispers softly as he wraps his arm around you and hugs you tightly. His other hand finds its way into your hair, which he strokes gently as his touch warms you. "It's all right, mon amour. I'm here," he repeats, tangling his bare legs with yours to pull you even closer to him. Not a piece of paper, not even a hair fits between you.

Charles' skin is soft and smooth against yours, you feel the tiny hairs of his forearm against yours as he reaches out to grab your hand and finally intertwines your fingers. It feels like they were made for this. As if you were made for him.

You want to turn around, to look at him, but his iron grip around your middle won't allow it, so you just press yourself against him, as close as you can, to be enveloped by him. By his smell, his warmth. Him.

"Charles," you sigh into the darkness and feel the tip of his nose against your neck.

"I'm here, mon amour." He presses a feather-light kiss to your bare shoulder. "I'm here as long as you'll let me."

next part

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jgracie · 19 days

Text

I WANT IT ALL

masterlist | rules

❝ hellooo !! i absolutely in love with your works !! may i request percy with the song “i want it” all by lana del rey, specially this part of the lyrics：“do you think you'll kill for me one day?" ／ “yes of course I will, my darling” ? perhaps a mention of dark percy ? 😋 ❞ — 🦇

in which percy would kill for you one day

pairing slightly dark!percy jackson x reader

warnings house of hades spoilers? that’s when this is set, violence (percy bloodbends)

on the radio . . . i want it all (lana del rey)

After experiencing Tartarus together, you couldn’t help but notice how Percy changed. He used to always be able to crack a joke, even at the worst of situations, lightening the mood and raising your spirits. However, now he’s more… serious. Tartarus seemed to harden him up - his eyes, once a bright aquamarine colour, were now of a dark blue-green hue, like the depths of the ocean that even Poseidon wouldn’t venture

You still loved him with all of your heart. He was your precious boyfriend, after all. And besides, you probably changed a lot too after that. Anyone would if they were forced to hallucinate their boyfriend abandoning them like you did. The image the Arai had planted in your head that day, a curse sent your way by a girl you didn’t even know, haunted you. You never wanted to feel that alone and isolated again

Percy knew this. It was part of the reason why he became more protective, more territorial. Watching you wander Tartarus aimlessly, your voice cracking as you begged for his touch and being able to do nothing about it shattered his heart. After that experience, he vowed to never let you out of his sight

The other members of the Argo II could tell that something had changed between you, too. However, they kept a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in case they made it worse, unable to even fathom what you must’ve gone through in Tartarus

For the most part, though, your relationship was good. Other than the nightmares and protectiveness, the two of you stayed the same iconic couple you are, and as time progressed, Percy felt himself becoming more relaxed, no longer needing to be by your side every second of every day

That was until the ship got attacked. You’d been having a couple days of pretty safe travel ever since you got out of Tartarus, and while you did enjoy simply being able to catch up with all your friends on a boat in the ocean, you should’ve known that something would come along to ruin this for you

It was early in the morning, and you were on watch duty along with Leo, who was manning the ship whilst adding some updates to Festus. The salty air made you think of Percy, and you found yourself suddenly longing for his touch, knowing how much he’d enjoy watching the sun rise over the horizon

“You can go get Percy if you want, Y/N, I’ll be fine here,” Leo mumbled. For someone who claims he’s better at understanding machines than people, he sure was good at reading your mind. Recently, you noticed he’d also been acting differently. According to Hazel, he found a girl he loved (NOT calypso guys don’t worry 🩷) while he’d gone missing, but for some reason he couldn’t bring her with him

You thanked him and were about to make your way to your boyfriend’s room when you suddenly heard a voice yell, “I will take revenge on you, wretched son of Poseidon!” You turned, finding yourself face-to-face with none other than the bane of Poseidon, Polybotes

“You think you can just leave Tartarus as you please? I, Polybotes, will make you pay!” The giant continued. Your feet seemed to be cemented to the ground as you stared at the giant, mouth open in a mix of shock and fear. He was supposed to be in Tartarus, how could he possibly get here? Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace. Why were you stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, you could relax until actually having to fight Gaia herself?

“Y/N, look out!” Leo yelled, pulling you out of your trance. But it was too late. The giant picked you up, his nails digging into your back, forming crescent shaped gashes. Your nose scrunched at the smell of him as he took a good look at you before laughing (his breath smelled even worse. You had to fight the urge to vomit all over him)

Tears welled up in your eyes. You were completely helpless, with no weapon on you and your limbs still aching from your time in Tartarus. This was it. This is how you’d die. The giant was squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe, black spots beginning to obscure your vision. You sent a quick prayer to your godly parent, asking them to keep your friends safe on the rest of this quest, before you succumbed to the darkness

The last thing you remember seeing is a flash of bright blue - the ocean

“Thank Gods you’re awake! We’re all so worried about you!” Hazel exclaimed as soon as your eyes were open. Looking around, you noticed you were in the makeshift infirmary section of the ship, bruises littering your body

You turned to face Hazel, your eyebrows furrowed, “what… happened?” You asked, trying to push your memories of the incident with Polybotes to the front of your mind, but ending up with nothing, “I remember I was captured by that giant, then I saw the water move, then… nothing.”

Hazel was suddenly incapable of holding eye contact with you, unsure if she should tell you what happened or not. In the end, she decided on the former, knowing you’d pull it out of Percy eventually if you had to

“The water moving was Percy’s doing. We all showed up after hearing the commotion and when he saw you in Polybotes’ clutches he went… kind of crazy. I’d never seen him like this before, Y/N, it was a little scary. He willed the water to move him up to Polybotes’ height and demanded he let you go. When he didn’t…” Hazel stopped for a second, shuddering. What did Percy do? After seeing the way he handled Akhlys in Tartarus, you knew there was a side of him that he kept buried deep inside. Did it come out again?

You placed a gentle hand on Hazel’s, giving her a kind smile which willed her to continue, “he started controlling Polybotes’ blood… he made him choke on his own blood, Y/N, we’ve been spending the past five hours cleaning that up.”

At the sound of voices coming out of the infirmary, Percy barged in, nodding at Hazel before holding you tightly in his arms. You hugged back, glad to see that he was okay. Smiling at both of you, Hazel waved goodbye and left, knowing you two needed a moment alone

“Hazel told me what happened,” you said once Percy pulled away, still keeping your hand in his. At this, he looked at the ground in shame, remembering how much his treatment of Akhlys had scared you in Tartarus

Rubbing circles into your hand, he said, “I’m sorry, Y/N, my fear and anger got the better of me. I don’t ever want to lose you, you’re literally my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. Feeling your face become warmer as a bright smile made its way onto your lips, you said, “it’s alright, Percy. Thank you for saving me. I genuinely thought I was going to die then.” At this, Percy’s brows furrowed and the grip he had on your hand tightened

An aura of power exuded from your boyfriend, and when he said, “you wouldn’t die, not with me here. I’d kill for you, baby, you understand that, right?” You knew he meant it. If giants didn’t have to be defeated by both Gods and demigods working together, Polybotes would definitely be a mere pile of dust in Tartarus right now

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x gn reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson drabble #cynwrites

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aajjks · 1 month

Text

The Devil Wears Glasses (m)

Synopsis. you were a bitch and he was your puppy.

Pairing: jungkook x Reader

Genre: bully au, mature. Fluff, angst.

warnings: sêxǔäl thèmès, YÂNDÈRÈ, dïrty thêmês, büllyïng, másôchïst kôôk, mâtürè thèmès, jèálôúsy, pôsèssïvènèss, pröfânïty.

note. OH MY GOD GUYS I JUST KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE HIM. HE’S SO UNPREDICTABLE AND THERE’S A HUGE SURPRISE SO LOOK OUT FOR THAT. ;) you can send asks for him, so let’s welcome a new jk into the multi.

You are such a bitch.

Oh you are the bitchiest person to ever grace this planet. How can you be so insensitive? You are heartless.

You deserve to burn in the deep flames of hell. Do you even have a heart? Were you even a human at this point? You could be a witch. Oh! Yes, that must be it, because...

You have got him tranced.

What does he even see in you? Jungkook is not sure, You are only a pretty face, with a hot smokin body, But that was about it.

He should hate your guts because he hates people like you.

Because you are a bully.

And he is a sweetheart. An innocent young man. While? You are the spawn of the devil. There you stand right in front of him, Jungkook fixes his glasses, feeling so nervous.

His heart is thumping, so loud.

“Puppy!” You call out to him, his eyes widen, you’re right in front of him and his mind is going blank. He stands tall over you, but you’re the one who is in control.

It’s so obvious and ironic.

You’re so pretty. And that cruel smile on your face, is making his pants grow tighter. Fuck, you’re not supposed to have this effect on him.

“P-Please don’t pity me.” He utteres in a small voice. You raised your eyebrow as your “friend” giggles.

“Oh, aren’t you a little masochist, puppy?” You coo at him, leaning in and whispering the words in his ears. He shudders, goosebumps on his neck. A sadistic laugh leaves your lips. Your eyes fall on his face.

Red as a tomato.

He seems to be lost as you trail your freshly manicured fingers on his rather hard chest. Your finger stops for a moment, can’t believe that you’re feeling his chest up.. right in front of your friend.

Yes, he works out.. it’s important.

Your touch feels so good- oh, someone help him.

He looks up in surprise, his doe eyes widen as he closes his eyes and whimpers quietly. “God.. this is all? A simple touch is all that’s needed to bring out the sick bastard in you?”

Your tone is mocking, cold.

He bites his lip, your words are crude but so true.

“You better complete the project, jungkook. Or else.” You spit in sarcasm, your eyes hardening, his heart flutters, He is pathetic.

He quickly nod. “y-yes I will, Y-Y-Y/N!!! I-I promise, p-please don’t get angry with m-me....” he pouts as you roll your eyes and leave him alone with your friend.

He watches with heart eyes as you walk towards the other direction of the school hallway with your minion.

God. You have such a bouncy ass, and such pretty legs. He blushes shamelessly, watching you move, his sudden lewd thoughts that surround his mind are making him feel a little embarrassed,

But you’re just so perfect.

You’ve got a perfect body, And a worth dying for laugh too?

Your laugh makes him weak in the knees. No, just a glance from you is all it takes to make him fall on his knees.

The way you walk, and the way that your hips sway make his mouth water. He stands still on his spot as his hand finds itself touching his chest, where you touched him.

He smiles, You touched him!!! Again! Was it the third time or fourth? He needed to know!!! He needed to write it down.

He needed to! But.. first, he needed to give you the already completed project. He smirks.

He turns to walk where you are now.

Slowly and cautiously.

...he feels like a really bad boy for lying to you... but as much as he deserves to be punished.. he can’t bring himself to give a fuck.

And also... if he didn’t lie then how would he get to see your pretty face and feel your touch? And listen to you cuss him.

God.. that turns him on so much.

Your pretty mouth saying such dirty words... he gulps quickly. His throat is getting dry.

But he adores it the most when you called him puppy.

That was so romantic!! It was such a lovely term of endearment. His heart flutters abnormally when you called him that.

He is your puppy. “gah, I love her so much.” He gushes to himself as he walkea slowly. “She’s so lovely.. I’m going crazy.” He breathes. Walking so carelessly, lost in his fantasies as he bumped into a person.

It was yunho.

His right hand man. Jungkooks face does a complete 180 change, now, jaw clenched and his eyes... hard. “Watch where you’re going, fucker. This was the First and last time. I’ll fucking shoot you next time.” He growls in a dangerously low tone.

Making sure that you can’t hear him.

Yunho eyes widen with fear. “I-I am so sorry Sir but... this was important..” he stutters. Looking down at the floor. The weight of jungkooks murderous eyes on him is making him regret every single decision in his life.

Jungkook looks around to see that the whole hall was finally empty. Everyone has gone to their classes, even you, he scoffs in annoyance.

This fucker is going to die.

“Spit.”

“W-We found him. The guy you asked for...”

Jungkook smirks. “Great.” at least now he will get to get his frustrations out on someone, he doesn’t exactly appreciate your stupid bitchy attitude, but- you manage to get him hard so.

Oh today is really a great day, Now he could finally be his real self. He’s getting tired of hiding to you, of course. It’s just been awhile since he got to kill someone.

He loves being always be your ever so loyal puppy, but now it’s about time he makes you his bitch.

But to the underworld. He was Jeon Jungkook.

The biggest fucking gang leader of South Korea.

Jungkook fixes his glasses once again, these glasses are fucking annoying- he needs to take them off- his eyesight is perfectly fine, but he looks cute in them like you said-

“where is my fucking homework?” He asks.

He only does your homework, and his people do his, sometimes he’s not sure what the fuck he’s doing.

he doesn’t even understand what he’s doing here because he doesn’t need to study. He just needs to take care of the business, but ever since you caught his eye when he was visiting this University, since his mother had insisted.

He wanted to be with you.

“I-I have it in my bag!”

“Fuck off now.” He growls, and Yunho doesn’t need to be told twice.

Oh, the things Jungkook does for you. It’s OK.. once he has you? You are going to find out about everything. Just a little bit more.

You were just the spawn of the devil. But he was the fucking devil himself.

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pwinkprincess · 2 months

Note

do u write for sukunaaaa

if so can we have cum denial wit him. like fingering n teasing reader till she’s crying n babbling 🐾 <3

sugarpie ୨ৎ

not getting sukuna’s attention has you acting out ୨ৎ

yeah probs mii first nd last time writing abt kuna ^.^ i really enjoyed doing dis for u tho ^_^

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ SUGARPIE ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ---> rough fingering, pet names (baby, princess, mama), shameless use of the word daddy :P, begging, clit slapping, squirting, daddydom!kuna, lawyer!kuna, orgasm denial

“kuna.” you drag out his name as you climb onto his lap. it’s been hours since he’s given you any sort of attention, you understood that the paperwork he is working on is extremely important. he briefly explained to you days prior about taking on a big case that would bring in a lonesome amount of money once everything was said and done. which is fine, of course you’re gonna support your kuna in whatever he takes on. but what isn’t fine is his attention being diverted to papers instead of you.

he grumbles out while he leans to your side so that he could see what was displayed on his desk. you sit quietly on his lap for a few moments, your mind is racing with how you could get his attention back onto you. a deep rooted, responsible and sensible side of you reminds you that he’s working and he told you that he would be busy on it, you know you’re being selfish but you can’t find it in you to care. if anything it’s sukuna’s fault for spoiling you so much!

“kuna.” you whine again. your head lays on his hard shoulder while your hands begin slithering against his waist. even through his shirt you could feel the hardened muscles, you loved just running your acrylic tips over his muscles and watching them tense every now and then. “daddy, are you ignoring me?” you ask with a frown that sukuna didn’t need to see, he could hear it in your voice.

“‘f course not, baby. ‘m just busy trying to sign these documents.” sukuna barely pays attention to the words coming out of his mouth as he jots down more and more onto the paper.

“aren’t you tired?” you huff, “can’t you just take a little break?”

“not right now. i need to stay on top of this case ‘nd fill out as much as i can as fast as i can.” he suddenly leans down a little to grab a paper thats on the far end of his desk. you wrap your arms tighter around him, but you know sukuna would never let you fall. no matter how busy and out of it he seems.

you don’t like that response at all. you roll your eyes at his resistance and settle with resting your head on the crook of his neck. you breathe in his cologne. the colognes’ he wears pairs so well with his natural scent. they smell so warm but masculine in a way. you close your eyes, opting to lay there and enjoy the feeling of his heart thumping and his body movements each time he inhales and exhales. you use the sound of the pen sliding against the paper as white noise.

you hum softly against him. this is better than being in separate rooms, you suppose. you would prefer for his attention to be on you completely but you’ll take what’s given at the moment. usually, you’d be chattering away about minuscule things while sukuna works but he quickly shut that down weeks ago.

“my office is my sanctuary, princess. i don’t care if you come ‘n here but you have to stay quiet so daddy can focus.” the firmness in his tone left no room for debate, which is why you slowly nodded your head while looking up at him.

you were only able to sit still and quiet for a few minutes, you tried, you really did. but you couldn't contain yourself from letting out littles hums and shifting your hips every few minutes. your little thin panties would get snagged on the shape of his cock causing little whimpers to escape from your throat when it does happen. sukuna doesn’t comment on anything you do, only occasionally patting your thigh when he deems you are moving too much.

“kuna, please.” you whine out as you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him fully. you didn’t have to say what you wanted, he knew. he always does.

“‘m working, mama.” he reminds you. irritation is seeping through his usual tone. hearing the slowly growing firmness begin to take over his words causes little hairs to stand up on your body, you both loved and hated when he talked to you like this.

“i don’t care! i need you kuna!” you clutch at his shirt with your hands. the hairs continue to stand.. no way you just raised your voice at him. a twitch of fear settles in your stomach.

“watch your tone.” he stops writing completely.

“wouldn’t have gotten loud if you would’ve jus’ paid attention to me.” you mutter under your breath as you begin getting off of his lap.

“the fuck you just say?”

୨୧

“kuna, i can’t! ‘s too much please!” you cry out as his thick fingers roughly pump into your fat pussy. the sounds of your arousal coating his digits filled the room, you were so fucking wet. he had already managed pull an almost orgasm out of you. he waited until you were breathing heavy and for your legs to be shaking desperately to pull away.

he doesn’t respond to you, only forcing your legs further with one hand while adding another finger. you squeal and whine while clutching on his wrist. his fingers are so fucking thick inside your sensitive pussy. your clutch at his wrist does nothing to slow him down.

your poor pussy could do nothing but take his aggressive fingers, you thrashed around on his lap which only made him slink an arm around your waist to hold you in place. fat tears ran down your cheeks as he continued holding your legs open so that he could continue to fill you.

everything about sukuna is thick. not just his fingers, but his cock (especially that), his muscles, his personality. those were just minor reasons that added up to why you loved him.

hearing the humiliating squelch, squelch, squelch and just feeling your arousal dripping down from your everflowing pussy to his lap. if you weren’t getting fucked stupid by his fingers you would’ve been embarrassed from the growing wet spot that is forming on his slacks.

“talkin’ t’me crazy.. have you lost your fucking mind?” he asks. with every word he’s hammering his fingers as deep as he possibly could, it’s almost to the point that it hurts. you whimper out a soft “daddy” and try to close your legs to prevent him from continuing to abuse your poor pussy.

you can’t find it in you to say a response, instead, you let out loud mewls and sobs. sukuna doesn’t take much appreciation to his words being met with silence, with a rough huff he pulls out the hand that’s fucking you to oblivion to give you three rough slaps against your right thigh.

a piercing sob breaks through your lips,“yes! daddy! ah! yes! i'm sorry daddy!” you didn’t even know what you were saying. loud sniffles mixed with the words you slobbered out. you were a complete mess, you loved when sukuna got you like this.

“‘s okay, though. don’t worry, baby. daddy’s going to make sure you remember your manners.” he plunges his fingers back into you with no warning prompting an unexpected orgasm to shoot from your sensitive pussy. he groans and begins slapping at your clit. squeals escape from deep in your throat. he remembers specifically telling you not to cum until he said so.

“daddy! oh! ah! ah! i’m sorry!” you try to crawl away from the intensity of your orgasm. sukuna clicks his teeth and roughly pushes you back up so that your back is aligned evenly to his chest. you’re fully sobbing now as a stream leaks out and sprays onto his fingers, lap, and parts of his paperwork.

“no more, kuna, puhllleeaaa-ahhmygodd..” your sentence is broken when he powers his movements back up. you’re still leaking out your orgasm when he adds a third finger. “daddy! kuna! baby! pleaseee, no more!” drool leaks from the corners of your mouth as you are dumbly babbling out to him.

“tch.” he sighs. “cummin’ even when i told you not to. you must really not be my good girl now? hm?” you could hear the smirk in sukuna’s voice. usually when he finds your actions amusing, you’d pout at him. but you were so fucked out all you could do is continue to grip his wrist weakly.

“‘s too much, kuna. toooo muchhhh.” you groan. you try closing your legs around his hand once again and this time sukuna bites down on your shoulder making you squirm. he didn’t bite down hard, he made sure to only use enough force to make you stop moving.

“keep ignorin’ me.” he warns. “your second time now. even while getting punished, you’re still actin’ up.” he jeered. “maybe you’re not my good girl after all.”

“‘m your good girl. promise. ‘m your good girl.” you sniffle, he was still rubbing his fingers against your walls filling you up jussttt right. your eyes glance down and you could see his hand sparkling with your arousal and to make matters more intense his fingers are etched with your cream. you could only whine at the sight.

he places soft kisses on the side of your neck and jaw. “watch me fuck my pussy.” he mumbles while placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. “gonna make sure my pussy gets all the attention it's been beggin’ for, and you better not fucking cum again until i say so.”

#asks ! ˚ ༘ ೀ #pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #kuna ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶#jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk smut #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen smut

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nuevialnst · 11 months

Text

A Sloppy First With Carlos?

Pairings: Carlos Oliveira x Fem! Reader

Summary: You have been dating Carlos for quite some time and finally decide to let him claim you as his own, but it is more like some sloppy sex.

Cw. Smut (nsfw), p in v, praise, virgin reader gets their first time wit carlos, dom carlos?, some begging, needy/desperate reader, a bit body worship if you squint ur eyes just a bit, possessive & a bit of cocky carlos, relationship had already been established yet we skipping to the part of where he just gives u a sloppy first time just to enjoy every moment of him inside you! This man is gonna make you a milf after he’s done fr fr want u to be the momma to his kids. Some fluff at the end there is def aftercare but I got too lazy to write it….

A/N: I’ve never written for Carlos before, so this is my first time writing for him and feel free to give me feedback!

SMUT AHEAD!! MINORS DNI!

Carlos Oliveira is definitely a charming guy when it came to women, but that all changed when you came into his life. He became so tough and cocky around you and others that it made him the kind of guy who didn’t let himself be vulnerable in front of people. It also caused you to fall for him a little bit faster. That was exactly what you wanted. Someone strong, and not afraid of showing it. The only problem with your choice was that he wasn’t exactly someone to get along with very well and was even more of an asshole than he already was.

Not something you expected from a man like that. But if it meant you could feel secure in his arms, then so be it. You could live with any kind of attitude. If he just wanted to keep you safe then so be it. You wouldn’t mind at all, actually. You enjoyed being near him, even if it made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You thought his roughness was sexy, even if you were slightly scared of him sometimes. And as long as there wasn’t going to be too much violence in the future, maybe you would be able to handle things better. Just give him some time, yet It wasn’t like you couldn’t deal with the bad side of him.

I mean he could be a total dickhead at times, sure, but you could tolerate that, too. He still respected you, afterall, and that was what really mattered. As long as you were happy and satisfied in his arms. And you had been that all this time. All your years of dating with a guy like Carlos Olivera didn’t go wrong. He treated you right, despite your flaws and his ego.

His ego brings out the best in him wether it’s in bed or out of bed, so there is no doubt about what you saw with him in bed that night. He was absolutely gentle, but rough when he kisses you sloppily, his hands firm when they roamed your body, and he took his pleasure in making you squirm underneath him. His tongue is hot and insistent in licking every inch of your skin and his fingers are rough and warm when they caress your breasts through the thin cotton fabric of your tight dress. And his eyes. Oh, Carlos’ eyes looked as if they were dark pools filled with lust and possessiveness. Without hesitation he took off his pants dropping them to the floor, his erection already trying to poke out the side of his boxers. You tried to take his boxers off although he had prioritized in spreading your legs apart and placed his hard member between them, foremost, further apart.

Fingers had trailed straight under the waistband of your dress while his hands started ripping your dress off, and your bra followed. With quick movements he tore the straps and panties away leaving you bare beneath his gaze, completely naked from head to toe. His lips left yours. Carlos began to apply lube to his hardened and throbbing cock, before slowly inserting it inside you, setting a slow movement in and out of you in a way that was torturous in itself. You whimpered from the sensation, but his grip on your hips tightened making the pain go away momentarily. Sloppily beginning to thrust into you, his pace quickened until he hit a certain spot that made you scream with pleasure. “Oh, God...” you moaned breathlessly before closing your eyes.

You never felt that way with anyone else. This is not your first time to say the least, but definitely better than masturbation to say the least. It made you feel so incredibly sensitive that it left you weak, yet at the same time it made you feel powerful and desirable. “That’s my girl…” he growled in a deep voice, grabbing one of your wrists and positioning it over your head as he continued hitting your sweet spot with his thick shaft. You moaned again while tears filled your eyes from the intense pleasure he gave you.

Your breathing started becoming erratic as he kept slamming his heavy cock into you with such force. He held your face, placing soft kisses all over your exposed cheeks and neck, causing goosebumps to appear on your flesh. “You feel so good, baby...” he whispered against your ear. Soon following after with, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum if you keep this up...”

“Don’t stop...” you begged breathless, feeling a shiver go down your spine as Carlos continued pumping his stiffening cock inside you. He kept pressing harder, making you cry out and bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from begging for mercy. “Please don’t stop….” You could hear your own voice quiver slightly, almost like a sob. In a moment you lost your restraint, and threw your head back, arching your back as you screamed loudly. A loud moan escaped your mouth as waves of ecstasy washed over you, and your muscles started tingling from his relentless thrusts into you.

He was getting close, you could tell, and soon he won't hold himself anymore. “Carlos…” you murmured, unable to finish your sentence because your breath was short and labored, and your voice was hoarse from screaming out.

You needed him to get you to your climax and come, now, now, now, you thought.

“Please..please…” you whimpered, feeling your body shaking with both excitement and desperation. Suddenly, everything came rushing in.

The orgasm. Carlos.

Your surroundings. Carlos’ name coming out of your mouth, His scent surrounding your whole being. You felt as if you were being penetrated by a monstrous cock very sloppily, even though you were. His warm and hard cock rubbing against your inner walls in time with his frantic thrusts. “Almost there… ah- hold out a little longer, baby…” Carlos grunted out of breath, panting heavily, his entire body trembling. Your breathing was starting to come out ragged as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you climaxed once again. “That’s it, baby… Come for me…” The next few minutes passed by in a blur, each second passing with such intensity it was overwhelming you. Carlos finally stopped after a while, releasing his cum inside you.

Your throat was sore and raw from screaming and your muscles were tense and sore from all the stretching, while your back was arched which he forced you to do as your climax hit. Carlos laid beside you and pulled the sheets up around you as he kissed your temple. "Are you alright?" Your mind was fuzzy as you nodded and snuggled closer into his chest. "...Yeah," was your reply, barely above a whisper. Your eyelids were glued shut, as you struggled to stay awake.

Carlos chuckled softly. "Did I fuck you that hard?" You shook your head and mumbled in reply that you loved how wild he got. "Mmm...you're welcome." After a while you felt tired and sleep began creeping onto your consciousness. Carlos seemed to sense this and wrapped his arms tightly around you to keep you warm as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek. "Get some rest, baby," he said quietly. You hummed in response as you relaxed into his hold, letting yourself drift off to sleep.

You were so tired that you were able to ignore the sound of heavy breathing, but it eventually woke you up when the covers moved slightly. Opening your eyes, and noticing your boyfriend staring at you intently. "Hey...sorry did I wake you up? Go back to sleep..." he whispered kissing the top of your head as he ran his hands gently through your hair. You buried your face deeper into his chest, and let out a small sigh as you cuddled up to his chest. Carlos laughed again, running his hand through your hair one last time before turning off the light with his other hand and lying down behind you, holding you tightly.

"I love you so much..." he said softly, kissing the crown of your head gently.

"Goodnight..." you breathed out before finally closing your eyes and falling asleep, enjoying the soothing warmth of his embrace.

#carlos oliveria smut #carlos oliveria x reader #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira resident evil #resident evil carlos #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 3 #resident evil re3 #resident evil 3 remake #resident evil x reader smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x fem! reader #carlos oliveira x fem! reader #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira x you #resident evil 🚔

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ginis-wonderland · 3 months

Text

pairing: simon riley x reader

genre: smut, breeding in the end, spitting, crying, just rough

your eyes were filled with tears and if he focused hard enough, he could see them contort into hearts. the noises coming from your pretty, pink lips kept him plenty distracted but the gripping sensation around his cock made him grunt and blush furiously.

"si!" you hiccuped and he pressed his hands at the back of your thighs to keep them close to your chest before leaning his weight on them.

"what is it, lovie?" he gasps in-between thrusts and you squeal when one of his hands moves down to rub fast circles around your hardened clit.

"si! not there!" you whined without a care of how loud it was.

he has been fucking you for hours now since he woke you up with his thick cock buried deep into your cunt.

"'ts mine," he growls. "i can do whatever i want to it."

tears start to stream down your reddened cheeks and you clench tightly around him once you feel him nudging that one spot that made you see stars.

"god!" you shriek as simon begins to thrust even faster and begins to abuse your cervix. "not there! si-!"

your gasps and protests fell deaf to his ears but simon riley wants to make you fall apart. he wants to feel the sense of satisfaction to know that it's because of him that you're cumming and it's because of him you're splayed out on the bed with your pretty pussy out in display for him.

"this cunny is mine, innit, lovie? perfectly tight and warm and so wet all because of me?" his brows were scrunched and sweat dripped down his muscular chest then he bent over to get close to your face, nose brushing against his.

"answer me, dolly," he urges and snaps his hips harshly making you cry out. "this" thrust. "pussy" thrust. "is" thrust. "mine" thrust. "right?" thrust.

"yes, simon!" you shrill out because that last thrust reached so deep you didn't know you could ever feel this full.

satisfied, he leans back but only slightly as his dog tags are swinging above your face and your eyes follow the movements. somehow, the harsh swinging of the metal heightened the pleasure his cock was giving you since it went along with his movements.

"open your mouth," he rasps and you quickly obey.

simon's lips quirked up to a smirk before he spat onto that pretty tongue.

"don't swallow," he rushes. "not until i tell you."

you nod fast and your eyes close, almost rolling back, at his fast pace. simon has made you cum so many times already yet not once has he finished. he liked to edge himself because it made cumming feel even better. knowing he was close made the feeling of an orgasm rush up your body and into the depths of your belly. you weren't allowed to swallow his spit so you kept your mouth closed but simon could see the way your eyes flew open and the panicked look you gave him indicated how close you were.

"wanna cum together, pretty?" he offers and god, it made you nearly finish then and there. finishing together was so rare that when it happens, it was best to be savored in moderation.

"swallow," he utters and you hurry to swallow his saliva before opening your mouth to prove it. simon always loved it when you did that and he chuckled. "oh, yes, my darling. where would you like me to cum, hm?"

"i-inside," you gasp. "do it inside."

what little self-restraint simon riley possessed flew out the window and he leaned back on his feet, grabbing your thighs to hike you up on them to have you closer to his cock. it pushed him in deeper.

"si!" you plead. "si! wanna cum! please, lemme cum!" your words slurred on your tongue before you sobbed and then he knew, he broke you.

"gonna cum 'round this cock, pretty? wanna cum while i fill you up and make you full of me and our babies? would you like me to breed you like my little cumslut?"

your jaw dropped and the loudest and most pornographic moan escaped your lips from his filthy words. simon knew that you liked it when he mentioned breeding you full and my gods, did he feel it with the way you gripped him.

"i'm gonna cum," he says and grabs your chin to turn you up to him. "look at me."

your eyes struggled to open and see through the tears but you focus on his face. simon riley's face contorting into pleasure is something you're honored to witness and he finally cums, brows scrunching and head leaning back at the intensity of it.

"fucking hell, lovely. keep it in. yes, shh, 'm not letting a drop waste."

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #dad!simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #cod smut

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lvlyghost · 10 months

Text

The Things I Never Said: Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Summary: You're required for one last mission.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tw: aaaaaangst, hurt with a lot of comfort. injuries, mentions of blood, kissing and slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit. price has to make a hard choice:(poor grammar, bad english ofc💅🏻 foreshadowing to my price fic 'salvation' if you squint.

A/N: i'm not gonna lie, when i wrote the first part of this fic i was bored and never in a million years did it cross my mind y'all would like it this much. sorry if this isn't as good, this is the final part of it, although i plan to write little drabbles every now and then. this was such a nice ride 🩷✨ thx for the support; remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍🐸

Masterlist✨ Part 2

Desk rotation wasn't fun, but it seemed to be the only suitable work for you considering your pregnancy, besides, it would allow Simon to keep an eye on you. At least he's sure you'd be safer in the military base than alone in your home.

Your only companion as you sit in the tech room is nothing more than a computer with two screens and Jimmy, the other tech guy who sits in the far corner across from you.

True to his word, Price had saved you and Simon a horrible martial court plus being discharged. Technically you're no longer a part of the 141 task force which is already upsetting to all of your team; instead working strictly under Price's command and assisting the different branches of the military. Meaning you're no longer subdued to Lieutenant Riley, therefore you're not his subordinate, at least not directly.

You respond to Price and only Price.

Nearing the end of your first trimester your swollen belly has started to show, the same you try to dissimulate by wearing bigger shirts than you would usually wear, but enough for Simon to notice when he'd place a big calloused hand on your stomach.

'It's... tiny.' He had stated, to which you laughed softly.

'Of course it is, your hand is massive!'

You shake your head, with a small smile on your lips as you remember that scene.

"Everything good?" You ask your companion.

"Mhm. You know you're the best for creating the security system right? Not a single breach or flaw. Couldn't ask for a better partner."

"Is that a chai?" Completely ignoring what he just said you point the white disposable cup next to him. He looks between you and his drink.

"Yeah? Didn't know you liked it, here... have it. I can get another." He assures you when you hesitate.

You thank him with glowing eyes and excitement. Cravings... you're embarrassed of the amount of food you've asked from Simon in the middle of the night. Sushi, pizza and even peaches just for the sake of the baby.

He's being the gentlest man on earth. Caring and supportive. Your phone buzzes as you're about to start to work. The screen lights up with a message from your Captain. Huffing you stand up, letting Jimmy know you'll be back in a few minutes, or so you thought.

You're not prepared for the hell unfolding inside John's office.

You're able to hear male voices from the other side of the hallway. You don't know why but your heart begins to race, knocking twice once you've reached the brown wooden door.

"Come in!" Price shouts from inside.

You open the door, greeted by John's hardened eyes and Simon's back as he hunches over the Captain's desk. Confused and much to your dismay there's a gigantic folder between the two men, your eyes fall on Ghost's trembling frame.

He is enraged.

Body buzzing in anger as the soft click of the door interrupts the silence that's fallen suddenly inside.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

Price slowly stands, Simon doing the same, turning his head ever so slightly to watch you from over his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart." Price begins.

A deep breath exits Simon's chest.

"What is it?" You take a step closer to them, until you're standing next to him, crossing his arms over his chest he remains silent.

"We need you. For a mission." He states. "It's important, sergeant. I don't think anyone else would be able to pull this off." Your eyes dart back to your boyfriend. Staring daggers at his superior. "I'd never ask for this if I had to."

"Bloody hell Price, she's not fucking going!" He is seething.

The gut-wrenching feeling sets in your belly, tossing and turning with anxiety. Simon isn't taking this well and you don't want to see him like this, it breaks your heart.

"How important, Sir?" You ask.

Ghost snaps his head towards you. Jaw tightening, and calls your name ever so softly.

"Don't." He barks. "Don't fucking play the hero, kid." He warns you.

"I'm not trying to play the hero, Simon." You talk back. "I'm trying to figure out how to get this done. I might have someone else that could go in my place." Price sighs. "Can I do it from the base? Maybe I don't have to leave the compound."

"Reports say the files are heavily encrypted. It's the Russians, sergeant. We're not dealing with amateurs." He turns to Ghost emphasizing the last word. "You more than anyone should understand, Lieutenant."

"Not when you're bloody sending her to a suicide mission!"

"These are not my orders Simon! General Shepherd wants her! I tried to talk him out of it. I can't do much more, son." You swallow when Simon starts pacing around like a rabid dog, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there any way I can do it? She can guide me through it the whole time..." he's back, leaning closer to his Captain. "I know I...-"

"Unless you know how to code and decrypt systems to perfection it can't be, Ghost. I'm sorry."

"It would only slow down the mission, get you caught. And in danger..." you reasoned, mumbling and staring down to your feet. There's no one else. Not even Jimmy. The one you had in mind.

Simon's mouth snapped shut.

His eyes are helpless when he connects them with yours. The realization of what's about to happen sinking in his core, he tried. He really did.

One long stride and he's embracing you, so tightly you think you'll suffocate; you hug him back, head resting right over where his heart beats frantically against his ribcage.

"I'm coming with her." He snarls. "Not Kyle, not Johnny. And certainly not someone from fucking KorTac." He turns to glare at Price with a death stare. "It'll be me, no one else."

"John's devastated." You tell him. Your back pressing against his hard chest. The water in the bathtub is warm, and smells like lavender and sandalwood. After the catastrophic meeting a few hours ago, Simon was too outraged to remain at the base so he drove both of you back to the safety of his apartment. You rest your head on his left shoulder, enjoying the delicate touch of his hands on your lower belly. He hums, almost absentmindedly. He didn't want to think about Price, or the mission for all that matters. All he can think of is you. He sighs, closing his eyes he presses a kiss on your hair.

"Bloody fucking bald cunt." He spits. You snort at his comment. Shepherd was a complicated man, and hardly one you could negotiate with once he had his mind set on something or someone.

"When do we have to...-"

"Tomorrow." Your lips are pressed into a thin line. "I'll be there no matter what, right next to you, love." He reassures you. You were never one to hesitate during missions but now... releasing a shaky breath you turn your head to look at Simon.

"I'm scared..." Simon's body goes rigid. The hand on your stomach halting. "It's not even for me, you know?" Swallowing your free hand reaches down to find his own, lacing your fingers with him. A muscle becoming prominent in his jaw as he grits his teeth.

"Nothing will happen to you. Bloody count on it, yeah? First shite I deem dangerous I'm pulling us out of there, understand?" You nod.

"Promise me you won't get hurt." There's a moment of silence that becomes unbearable the longer it extends. "Simon..." his eyes are fixated on yours, shining with what you can only describe as worship. The faintest of smiles spreads across his features.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Not for one second." Breathing deeply you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender; makes you forget about all the difficulties you face. Biting down his lip, Simon takes it as a sign to further deepen the kiss. Tongues finding each other in a fight for dominance. "Don't wanna think about what tomorrow holds. I have you here right now. That's all I need."

Your mind goes back to the moments you and Simon shared last night. It was so simple, so real.

That's how things were supposed to be.

Easy.

Not heart wrenching, not stifling down a cry as you watch him get shot. A bullet that was aimed at you .Breaking in had been easy. Way too easy for your liking. But you thought that for once maybe a mission wouldn't be a pain in the ass. The hardest part was getting inside their systems; John was right. It was hellish even for you. It took more time than what you had anticipated. No one would've been able to pull it off.

"Whoever is behind this, they're good." You acknowledged as you type down the codes that will eventually get you in.

"Bloody brilliant you are, kid." Simon watches from the other side of the room, eyes scanning the hallway every now and then looking for any possible hostiles. You send him a coy smile.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get no work done."

"How am I supposed to look at you then?" He asks

You don't answer because the screen in front of you suddenly shifts from 'Access denied' to 'Access granted'.

"Got you." You whisper. Simon stands straight. You plug your USB and start downloading all the information as well as setting a virus so their system gets permanently damaged.

"What is it?" He gruffly asks when the files finished downloading on your own device. Clearing your throat you try to ignore the horrible pictures you just took a glimpse of.

"Just... insanity." Is all you can say. A loud metallic sound echoes in the room, you never get to see the person behind you. Ghost's eyes widen and he barks an order your ears don't register, static fills your eardrums. The gunfire starts but lasts mere seconds. Crimson blood splutters from Simon's body.

You stand up, knocking down the chair as you jump out and run where Simon's injured body kneels. You fall down grabbing him by the face. The pain you're feeling deep inside has never been worse.

"I'm fine." He hisses. "Just my fucking shoulder."

As if that would make you feel better.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Your lips quiver. You run back to retrieve the small USB drive.

The body of a man lays down, a pool of blood forms around him. He was hiding behind you the entire time. Had Simon been distracted the outcome could've been atrocious. Yo don't dwell on it.

"Come on, baby." You urge him, crouching down to help Simon as much as you can to get him standing. His weight is just too much for you, you think, when he finally raised to his feet.

"S'okay love. Don't... don't overwork yourself. I'm too heavy, don't wanna get you hurt because of me."

Tears form in the corner of you eyes at such selfless act.

"You're the one who got hurt because of me, Simon." You stammer.

"So what? Would fucking die for you." You shake your head but keep close to him. Pressing down the wound on his shoulder as you head towards the exit. "Evac point is ten minutes away. We should be fine." The gun that rests on your thigh feels heavier than it should.

You're lucky, you guess as you walk away from the god forsaken building.

Lucky that you have him by your side, even when his blood stains your fingers. He's there, you're there and you're making it out alive. Wounded or not, Simon would never let anything happen to you, that's how deep his love for you was.

He wasn't like his dad at all.

He was real, caring, something not much people knew. Not in their lifetime.

The amount of blood he was losing was inhumane. An injured shoulder couldn't cause someone to lose this much blood, you ponder. Your black shirt feels sticky and damp, you take a quick glance and hold back a sob. Another gunshot wound, one he didn't care enough to tell you about and you didn't notice, too scared to even think.

Far in the distance between two big threes a black truck awaits. Johnny's face dropping when he noticed Ghost's decaying form. He rushes in your direction, taking him off of you, carrying his weight. He gives you a concerned look.

"Johnny..." you choke up. "We have to save him, please."

It's been the worst 48 hours of your life since you landed. He got two surgeries done in order to remove the fragments from inside his body. You were exhausted, barely ate or slept. It almost felt criminal, selfish, when your eyes started to close and finally gave in.

Then the nightmares came.

Ones where he didn't make it back and instead you had to leave him behind and never got to meet his child.

A warm feeling spreads from your skin. A faint touch. Are you still dreaming? His face erupts in your subconscious mind and you cry again. He's fine.

When you slowly open up your eyes you're met with blue eyes and a raspy voice.

"Don't neglect yourself for me, kid." You're speechless, the searing pain in your heart eases. He knows you so well. Knows you haven't left his side. "Takes more than a bullet to keep me away from you." When you don't move nor speak he continues, clearing his throat. "Come here, sweet thing."

There's a new wave of tears that fall mercilessly down your cheeks. You carefully climb up next to Simon's good side.

"Don't you ever scare me like that!" you weep. Sobbing uncontrollably Simon hushes you. Murmuring words of comfort in your ear. The anesthesia is still making him feel dizzy but that doesn't stop him from kissing every part of your face. Your hair, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips.

"Let's leave this place for a while. Go on vacation while we still can..." you beg.

Simon's lips twitch. He's smiling down at you.

"What do you have in mind doll?"

You breathe deeply.

"Greece. I always wanted to go to Greece."

There's moments in life when you doubt you'll get a happy ending. Being with Simon at first was pure coincidence, something that had evolved from deep admiration and respect, which then turned into something more. It turned out to sleepless nights at the common room with the task force. Longing stares during briefings. Looking after each other during missions.

The training sessions together. Lending his massive leather jacket because you were always reluctant to bring your own. That one night he couldn't resist it anymore and went to your dorm. How you felt under his touch, oh he was touch starved when it came to you. And when he learned he was going to be a father, that moment would be ingrained into his memory until his very last day.

"Greece it is."

It's a promise.

TAGS:

@nijiru @illyanam1011

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mw22 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

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blueicequeen19 · 5 months

Text

A Million Reasons

Warnings: theft, coercion, non-con/dub-con, overstimulation, forced orgasms, face fucking, anal play, oral, creampie, the works..

I couldn’t contain my smile as I plopped down in my new comfy chair in my new shiny apartment that I drove to in my new fancy car. It didn’t matter how I’d come into the money. What mattered is I wouldn’t be waiting tables at the fucking country club anymore, serving arrogant Kooks over priced alcohol and barely making shit from tips. This was all mine now. Paid off and no one could take it from me.

I had a five year plan now and nothing was going to stop me. I was going to go full Kook and make every one of those dumb motherfuckers look me in the eye when they realized I had more money than they did. They would respect me one way or another.

I grinned as I logged onto my new computer to pull up my accounts when suddenly there was a knock on my door that startled me so bad I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was almost midnight. Who would be here? I slowly got up and made my way to the door, my gun already laying on the table. I checked the peep hole but the person - a guy - had his head down.

What the fuck? I unlocked the door and it was suddenly shoved open, knocking me back on my ass before I could snatch my gun off the end table. I moved to jump back up to my feet when I realized who was in my apartment and smiling at me.

“Hi doll, how’s the new place?” He smirked, dropping a duffle bag onto the floor and not taking his eyes off me as he locked the door back. I was too stunned to speak, let alone move. My eyes moved to the gun but he snatched it up, tucking it in the back of his fucking khakis.

“This is a nice place. You did good? What did this put you back?” His blue eyes take in everything as he side steps me and ventures deeper into my apartment. I eye the door but I can’t run. He’s here because he knows what I did. I slowly rise to my feet, hating that I’m in a pair of booty shorts and oversized shirt as I turn to face him.

“I like the car too. That had to be at least fifty grand. And I’m sure this place is well over two grand a month unless you bought the place out right. I guess I could rent it out and flip the profits if I don’t decide to stay here.” He rambles on, tilting his head back to look at the vaulted ceiling.

“What do you want?” I finally find the strength to speak, my heart in my throat as his bright eyes level on me again.

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What do you have that could be even remotely worth me keeping silent and not turning your ass in?” His voice hardens, that playful look long gone.

I bite my lip, my nails biting into my palms as I fight to remain calm. There was no use lying.

“How did you know it was me?”

“That stole my card information and hacked over a million dollars like it was chump change?!” I back up, his voice growing louder as he moves towards me, that look in his eyes becoming more sinister by the second, the ruse finally fading.

“It was easy. I just followed the scent of someone with new money. Someone not being cautious of their spending and paying with big items in cash.” He lunges with a growl, cutting off my scream as his hand wraps around my throat. I fight and he knocks us both onto the couch, pinning me beneath his weight. I lash out with my nails, clawing his cheek and he snarls, shifting his weight more onto my chest so I struggle to breathe. I fight harder when I feel the bulge in his pants. The sick fuck was hard.

“You feel that? Who knew I could get so hard from someone not fawning over me?” He taunts, leaning down to press his lips to my cheek.

“Girls are always tripping over one another just for a chance to suck my dick but not you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” I wheeze, tilting my face away when he leans in too close. It’s like a bucket of cold water being dumped on me when he throws his head back and laughs.

“Oh, wow, you’re funny. I’m going to have so much fun with you in MY new apartment.” He shimmies down my body, pinning me with weight and keeping his mouth dangerously close to my own.

“You can have it back. You can have it all back. I don’t care.” I bite out, slipping my hand out from under his weight in an attempt to slap him but he catches it and pins both my wrists above my head.

“We’re way fucking past that. Now I’m looking for payment.” His eyes rake over my body as his free hand comes up to tease my nipple through my shirt, making it harden.

“Stop—.”

“I don’t even know where I’d start. You’re fucking exquisite.” He chuckles, burying his face in the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply. I whimper, his free hand still playing with my nipple. I needed to get the upper hand. I needed him to think I was defeated.

“Ugh, fine fuck me. Fuck me and get out. Punish me, do whatever you need to do then leave.” I snap, hating the way my body heats as he sucks on the skin of my neck.

“Whatever I need to do, hmm?” A hum leaves his lips before he bites me and I cry out, my thighs squeezing together as my core tightens.

Suddenly, he’s off me and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. He’s no longer crushing me under his weight yet I still can’t catch my breath.

“Strip. Show me what I paid for.” He throws an arm over the back of the couch, spreading his legs wide and looking every bit the entitled Kook he is.

“You didn’t pay for—.”

“Strip. Now.” His harsh words have me jumping to my feet on shaky limbs and quickly yanking my shirt over my head, the cold air hardening my nipples into painful points. My skin flushes under his intense blue gaze as he eyes me like a prize. Like he’s never seen a topless woman before.

“Not too bad. A solid handful. I can live with that.” He says, like he’s buying me from a grocery store. I grit my teeth, moving to cover myself but he gives a single shake of his head.

“Don’t you dare cover up. Remove the rest.” I try to look anywhere but the prominent erection in his pants or his hungry gaze as I slide my sleep shorts and panties down in one go. I kick them away but not before he sees the wet spot my traitorous pussy left in my panties.

“Fuck you.” I growl as his smirk grows and he palms his dick through his pants.

“No, baby girl, fuck you. Spin for me. Show me that ass.” I turn away quickly at the sound of his belt being unbuckled, my skin covered in goosebumps. I was so cold but hot at the same time. My clit was throbbing painfully and I hated it.

When I face him again, he’s still wearing that smug smirk but with his pants hanging open and his dick still safely tucked away.

“I could tie you up and just play with you for fucking hours.” He practically moans, his eyes washing over me like a warm caress. God, I hated this. I was painfully turned on and humiliated at the same time.

“Would you just—.”

“Lay down on the couch and spread your legs. If you kick me, I’ll tie your legs to your chest with my fucking belt.” Part of me wants to kick him just so he can make good on his threat but I refuse to give him the satisfaction as I lower myself onto the opposite end of the couch.

I barely get my legs spread and he’s moving between them on his stomach, his hands hot on my skin as he spreads my pussy lips wide.

“Mmm, nothing like the smell of desperation.” His eyes light up with mischief and I debate actually kicking him until his tongue suddenly swipes up my slit and my brain turns to mush.

“Fuckkkkk.” He growls against flesh, his hands tightening on my inner thighs as he tastes me again.

“Oh—fuck—.” I’m trembling uncontrollably, my body on fire and no longer under my control. He keeps cursing and mumbling praises but I can barely hear him as he feasts on me like he’ll die if he doesn’t. When he sucks my clit into his mouth and curls a single finger inside me, my back bows and I see stars. My orgasm is on the tips of my toes but he stops, pulling back with a laugh.

“Not so fast. You don’t get to cum anytime soon. I don’t care how good you taste.” He stands and quickly strips until he’s as naked as I am, his cock hard and leaking with need. I try not to stare but he’s so goddamn long.. and thick. I’m almost worried. I can’t even check to see where he’s placed the gun..

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit wherever it goes.” My worry dissolves into anger again and I narrow my eyes, attempting to get up only for him to shove me back down and straddle me. I’m confused until he moves onto my chest, his knees holding most of his weight as he positions his cock in front of my mouth.

“Do I need to warn you what will happen if you bite me?” He says, using the swollen tip to smear precum all over my lips.

“I don’t think I can—.”

“Breathe through your nose.” He pushes his cock firmly against my lips.

“You’re too—.”

“You can take it.” My jaw pops as I’m forced to open and let him down my throat. I gag immediately around the smooth length of him, tears filling my eyes as he reaches the back of my throat and holds it there.

I can’t even push against him because my arms are pinned beneath him. It takes everything in me to keep from retching.

“Fuck, that’s not even all of it. Look at you struggling. Do you regret stealing from me yet?” His eyes are hooded and his breathing heavy as he slides partly out and thrusts back inside my mouth, making me continue to gag.

“You will by the time I’m done with you.” His words have my chest tightening, afraid of what I’ve gotten myself into as he starts to fuck my mouth like he would a toy.

“Fuck, yes. You’ll be a pro in no time. That feels so fucking good.” His breathy moan has me trying to squeeze my legs shut but he reaches back, slapping my thighs apart and starts to play with my clit. I buck beneath him, humming around his cock as I try to speak. I can’t do this. I can’t handle it. Tears fill my eyes every time he pulls back enough for me to catch a breath only to force his way deeper down my throat all while rubbing my clit.

“If you cum, you’ll regret it.” He growls, scaring me while also giving me a thrill of what if? I stick out my tongue to try and make room in my mouth but he only moans louder, thrusting harder before slapping my pussy. I cry out around his length, gagging and trying to breathe.

“Get ready to swallow.” My eyes widen and suddenly he’s deep down my throat, holding his cock in place as he cums. I gag but he only groans louder, shooting his hot cum right down my throat so I have no choice but to swallow. My vision is spotty when he finally pulls out, my face streaked with tears and my throat on fire. I’d never been face fucked before and I’m given no opportunity to recover as he quickly flips me onto my stomach and comes down on my back. My cheeks are spread and he’s licking me from front to back, my body trembling with the need for release.

“P-please—.” I croak, arching into him as his tongue penetrates my pussy. I moan into the couch, my core burning with need. When his tongue moves higher, my eyes snap open but I’m unable to stop him from forcing his tongue inside my unused hole. A broken cry leaves my lips and I try to lift up only for him to shove me back down.

“Keep begging. Let me hear it, you little thief.” His voice is thick with need as he moves up my back, his cock resting against my ass.

“Please.. Rafe..” I whine, feeling him reach between us to guide his cock to my pussy.

“So you do know my name.” He chuckles, stealing my breath as he slips just the tip inside me. My body tightens and he curses, pushing down on the center of my back.

“Remember my fucking name when you cum. I want to hear you scream it.” His threat barely registers before he buries himself deep inside me with one go. I cry out, my pussy forced to stretch to accommodate his size.

“Goddamn.” Rafe bites out, rising up on one knee and keeping his hand on the center of my back as he starts to fuck me slowly.

“You’re swallowing me so fucking good. Sucking me in nice and deep. So wet and tight.” My nails bite into the cushion, my hips lifting on their own as his pace increases. The burning quickly subsides and pleasure washes over me as I moan loud and helplessly.

I hear him spit then his thumb is pressing inside my ass, triggering my orgasm as I scream into the cushion.

“Dirty fuckin slut.” Rafe chuckles, not slowing his rhythm until one orgasm turns to two and my release drips onto the couch. It becomes too much and I quickly try to pull away, pleading as best I can but he refuses to let me go.

“We’re not done so fucking take it. I want to see you break.” Another finger enters my ass as he pounds my sore pussy, an explosive orgasm wrecking me until tears stream down my face.

“Rafe— please—.” I sob, his mocking laugh reaching my ear but I’m too far gone to be pissed off anymore. He gives me a moment to rest when he pulls out and drags me onto his lap, impaling me on his cock so I’m facing him and forced to ride him.

“I can’t..” I cry, my entire body trembling as he begins to move me himself, his cock practically in my stomach.

“Should’ve thought about that.” He smacks my ass, digging his fingers in and squeezing the flesh as he thrusts up into me. My hands tighten on the back of the couch as we move in sync, his cock stroking something deep inside me to the point I’m practically mush in his hands, his throaty moans music to my ears.

It’s not until I feel my hand brush something metal that my eyes snap open and I see the gun laying on the end table against the back of the couch.

I don’t think before snatching it up and wedging it under Rafe’s chin, making him look up at me. My lips tip up in a snarl while his form a smirk, his blue eyes lost in a blissed out haze.

“Stop.” I bite out, blinking past the pleasure deep in my core. He was so deep like this. I could almost cum again.

“Stop what? You’re riding me. I’m not moving.” Rafe says with a breathless smile. My body freezes when I realize he’s right and he groans as I tense around his length.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum deep inside you.” Rafe moans, adding to that fire deep in my belly. There was something so hot about a man being vocal during sex.

“You like that? The thought of me filling you with cum make your pussy throb? Or is it the thrill of the gun? You could kill me right now and my cock would still be hard. One or two more pumps and I’d still finish inside you.”

“Shut. Up.” His words make me break out in a sweat, his cock throbbing deep inside me. I don’t doubt that he’s telling the truth.

“Seems like a waste to not finish, don’t you think?” Rafe’s blue eyes sparkle up at me as his hands find my hips and he delivers a hard thrust to my core. I cry out, my eyes threatening to flutter as fire ignites deep within me.

“You want me to finish.” Rafe taunts, sliding one hand up to grip my throat as he begins rolling his hips until my eyes nearly cross. He was too deep and stroking my g-spot while I held a gun to his chin. My body began to tremble as another orgasm raced forward, the gun shaking in my hand.

“Cum all over my cock. I know you want to.” Black spots dot my vision as he tightens his hand around my throat, stealing my ability to breathe and giving me the most intense orgasm of my life. The gun is snatched from my fingers then he’s pounding into me with vigor, grunting and moaning as he empties himself inside me.

My eyes barely manage to stay open as he lifts me so he can stand then my back meets the couch, his cock never leaving my pussy. His lips find the shell of my ear as I try to wrap my brain around what just happened..

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, roomie.” My body stiffens and he groans, rolling his hips and making me whimper.

“This.. isn’t..”

“You didn’t think once was worth a million dollars, did you? Because I plan on thoroughly using this pussy. Call it interest on my new investment.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #obx2 #rafe cameron smut #rafe angst #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #dark rafe cameron #tw dark theme #tw dark themes #dark content #obx imagine #blueicequeen19 #drew starkey smut

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yourfatherlucifer · 4 months

Text

Oh Bite Me (CS)

Vampire!San x afab!Reader

Summary: A blood thirsty demon of the night, but he’s your best friend and your roommate. You have to deal with his antics and his flirtatious acts.

Warnings: MDNI, male masturbation, slight voyeur, getting caught, unprotected sex, biting/blood, marking, pervert!san, short pwp, switch!san, cursing, sarcastic!reader

Trope: Friends To Lovers

Genre: Smut

AU: Supernatural

WC: 1.1k

Rated: R

“San, quit leaving your underwear in the damn washer! You’d think being alive for so long you’d know how to do your laundry.” You had growled in frustration, slamming the washer lid shut.

San snickered from the other room, “Oh well, you know you love it!”

You threw a disgusted look towards his voice, “I do not like seeing your underwear.”

San brought himself out of his room, shirt missing from his torso, “Then what about this~”

You groaned and turned away from him, “Please put a shirt on, dude.”

You waved him off, having enough of his crap, "Whatever, I've gotta go to work, so see you later. Don't," you point your finger in his face, "do anything weird."

San smirked, "No promises, baby girl."

You grimaced, "Don't fucking call me that."

You grabbed your things and left for work, leaving San to his own devices. Which meant...he went through your underwear drawer, pervert.

San smiled as he held the fabric in his hands, twisting the material in his fingers, it was fresh underwear, but that didn't mean it didn't have your smell anymore, right? San tried to locate your smell anyway. He buried his nose in the fabric as if trying to pull your pheromones from it.

His dick hardened just from the smell engulfing his nostrils, he knows you'd drive a stake through his heart if you caught him. It gave him a thrill, going out like that.

He ran to his room with the panties in hand, his dick straining against his basketball shorts. He didn't even bother shutting his door as he knew you'd be home late. With his back to the mattress, he trailed his hand up his chest, giving his small nipples a squeeze. His back arched off the bed, giving a breathy moan.

"f..fuck, oh my god." San whines out while tweaking his now pointed nipples, giving them equal attention. His cock twitched in his pants, eager for the attention he was giving to his chest.

He whined in frustration and shimmied off his shorts, he didn't wear underwear, it was like he was expecting this to happen.

When his cock slammed against his abdomen, he grabbed it hastily, wrapping the panties around his base. The precum from his cock was near dripping, almost as if he came untouched, but he hadn't yet.

The fabric created such a friction on his wet and red cock that he was near tears from the feeling. His hand pumped up and dumb, twisting left and right in a vigor motion, eager to cum on your panties.

He was already pussy drunk, but without the pussy, god he wanted to be inside you so bad, but your underwear would have to do for now.

His fangs bit into his lips, nearly drawing blood from the pressure. Little did San realize you had turned your car back around to return home, you forgot some paperwork you needed for work.

You had walked into the apartment, San's moans filling your ears, but you didn't see any other shoes by the door. Was he by himself?

You slowly walked into the hallway, stopping in front of San's room, eyes wide, the door was wide open for you to see his lewd act of getting off on your underwear. Which were now stained with his cum.

"San?"

He quickly shot up, grabbing a pillow to cover his still rock hard cock, "Y/N! Fucking hell, you're home! Hi!" He smiled nervously, his fangs retracting into his mouth.

"The hell are you doing, dirty boy? Is that my underwear?" You approached him and in return he backed up into his headboard, staring at the dirtied pair of underwear in his fist.

"Uh..Maybe?"

You shook your head and pushed San down onto the mattress, 'You're such a pervert."

San's eyes grew in size as he became nervous, "no.."

Something snapped in San as he flipped you around, to lay you on the mattress, "Why, does it bother you? That I fuck myself to you? To your underwear?" He licked a stripe up your neck, "Can I bite you?"

You nod and pull him closer, "Do it."

San sunk his teeth into your neck, careful to miss an artery. As the blood filled his mouth, he moaned in pleasure, “You taste so good, Y/N.”

You held his head to your neck, eyes closed in pure bliss, "More, feels so good."

San smirked against your neck, "If I do, I could drain you dry, and I don't want that. I want to fuck you everyday if I can have the chance. I want to feel your wet cunt around me. I want to feel your heat as I push my cock into you."

The vampire pulled himself away and moved down to your clothed cunt, pulling down your work pants, gawking at your soaked underwear, "Awe, this for me?"

You glared at him before rolling your eyes, "Who else, dumbass?"

San's cat-like eyes narrowed at you and decided to punish you by sinking his teeth into your plush thighs, gulping down the blood. Your hands flew to his hair, pulling each way. What a fucking tease.

"Watch it, don't be a bad girl."

San slipped a finger inside of you and stared into your eyes, smiling mischievously. His finger pumped in and out, curling around the sponge-like surface.

Your moans filled his ears, it was bringing him pleasure just by hearing your delicious sounds and listening to your heart racing. He kissed along your stomach and abdomen as he brought you pleasure with his fingers.

"San~ faster, please!"

He bit along your stomach, leaving marks behind but not drawing blood, he didn't wanna drain you too much.

Once he felt you begin to tighten around his fingers, he pulled his fingers out. Now replacing it with the tip of his large cock.

"Ready?"

You nodded, eager.

San pushed his cock in slowly, throwing his head out, his tongue flying out of his mouth, "Fuck! This is so much better than I imagined! I fucking love your cunt wrapped around me. I never want anything else again."

His grip on your waist tightened as his cock pounded into you, his moans were overpowering yours. Whines poured out of his mouth as he thrusted his own hips into yours. Curses flew out of his mouth as he kept going.

San was near tears once again, "what, pretty boy, can't keep up with the pleasure?" you teased.

San growled, "Shut up! You know you feel just as good as I."

His orgasm was rapidly approaching, "Gonna cum in you."

He bit into your neck once more as his cum spurt inside, some even spilling out as you came with him.

San fell to your chest, "Fuck..that felt so good."

He then sat back up, "wanna go again?"

#cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #kflixnet #k-labels #wonderlandnet #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez smut #choi san #san x reader #x reader #choi san x reader #afab!reader #vampire ateez #vampire choi san #san smut #choi san smut #codn Santa23

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wkemeup · 1 year

Text

The Bet

summary: The agents at SHIELD have not taken well to Bucky’s pardon. When he’s injured on a mission under suspicious circumstances, you take matters into your own hands.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 7.7k

warnings: canon level violence, bucky’s internalized self-punishing issues, shield agents being real pieces of shit, badass reader who would defend bucky to the death

a/n: I know I’ve been really inactive lately (life’s actually been going well so I’ve been busier but that leaves me less time to write unfortunately), but I’m still lurking here! This is a fic I wrote several months ago but finally got around to editing it. Hope you enjoy!

Bucky wasn’t sure how you managed it – the punch to his gut every time you walked in the room. You were dressed in your tactical suit; black fabric draped over every inch of your body, protective layers of Kevlar and technology beyond Bucky’s years, a weapon strapped to your thigh and knives hidden in your belt and at your ankle. Your hair was tugged out of place, sweat beaded on your temple from the sparring match in the gym moments before the two of you were called to service. In your right hand, you carried your combat boots, the laces hanging low enough to touch the ground.

And still, Bucky held his breath as you approached. Stomach in knots, chest tightening until his heart threatened to stop entirely.

“My offer is fifty this time,” you announced, winking in his direction before you turned to head for the landing bay. “Take it or leave it, Barnes.”

It was a game you’d been playing since your first mission together. A running bet to determine the better combat fighter. You’d insisted on measuring it not by the number of Hydra agents taken down or the bullets left in the magazine at the end of the mission, but by who walked away with the least damage on their body. A competition in the lack of scars.

He suspected it was your effort to distract him, to center his mind on something other than the crushing weight on his chest as he stepped into yet another Hydra stronghold. With his pardon only coming through the official channels three months prior and the nightly news still debating whether he should be locked in a psychiatric hospital or executed for his crimes, Bucky didn’t mind a little distraction.

He wasn’t sure what to make of you at first – this woman who cared so little for the eggshells scattered around his wake. Thin, broken pieces shattered under your steps, sharp edges digging into the soles of your feet and you did not flinch. You never hesitated in your teasing, never withdrew a cautious touch from the hardened steel of his left arm, never treated him as though he were fragile or unhinged. Instead, you placed bets on the outcomes of your shared missions as if his lethality was something to respect, to admire.

Part of him wondered whether it was your attempt to keep him unharmed. The winner would have the least number of cuts and bruises – the least physical pain endured. Bucky had no problem using his body as the weapon it was designed to be, even if it meant being reckless in his own skin. It was what he’d been trained to do for decades; constantly reminded that his body was not his own to command, not his own to protect and shield. The mission came first. The mission always came first. Above his safety. Above his comfort. Above his sanity. Hydra cared little for how damaged he walked away from a fight as long as he did as he was ordered. But not you.

No, you never could seem to hide the subtle twitch of relief as he won bet after bet. How your shoulders seemed to lose the tension aching in your muscles as you handed over the winnings he did not want. Because it meant you’d lost – that you’d been injured more than he had – and Bucky wanted no part in celebrating such a win.

“I don’t want your money, Y/n,” Bucky said as he did before each mission. He fell in line beside you as rookies parted down the hallway with each approaching step. Most kept their head down, eyes averted. But not all. Some openly stared at him as if they might bore holes into his tactical suit.

“Who says I’m paying you shit?” you scoffed, a smirk edging at the corner of your mouth. “Fifty, Barnes. You on or what?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, fine. I’m in.”

You walked with a slight bounce in your step after he agreed and Bucky could not stop the smile as it tugged on his cheeks.

By the time you reached the quinjet, the team of agents was huddled in the loading dock awaiting orders. Steve stood with a hand leaning against the pilot’s chair, the other hooked on the font of his belt. The rest of the team – a group of highly trained SHIELD agents dressed in full combat gear tensed as Bucky followed you onto the jet.

“Thanks for joining us,” Steve welcomed sarcastically though there was humor in his grin. You rolled your eyes and held up your unlaced boots as if that would be answer enough that you were caught off guard for the unplanned mission.

“Not all of us wait eagerly outside Fury’s door for scraps of adrenaline,” you teased and tossed a wink over your shoulder at Bucky.

Steve bit his tongue to hold back a laugh. He turned to one of the agents lingering by the cockpit. “Get us in the air.”

“Yes, sir,” the agent responded and quickly jumped into the pilot’s seat.

Steve made his way to the table at the center of the jet where the building’s schematics were illuminated in three dimensional holographic lasers. Bucky exhaled a heavy breath as he followed, studying the lights as they detailed every inch of the building he would infiltrate in a matter of a few hours. He kept his right hand down by his side in an effort to not reach out and touch the floating blueprints.

“Y/n will lead Team B through the back entrance and up to the second floor,” Steve explained as he widened the schematics with a single swipe of his hand. The floor print zoomed into the level he was describing.

“Meanwhile, I’ll lead Team A through the main floor,” he continued and adjusted the visual to display the path he intended to take. “We’ll come in hot through the primary entrance. Draw as much attention as we can. That’ll give Bucky the time he needs to track down the Berlin files.”

Bucky swallowed as many of the agents turned to look at him. Steve had briefed him ahead of time on the mission so he knew he would be taking this one on his own. He knew the building better than anyone else, better than anyone who had studied the blueprints. He knew Hydra better than anyone else. Whether he was stored in this particular site was irrelevant. He understood how Hydra operated, enough to determine where they’d keep the sort of information that could bring the organization to its knees. It made the most sense.

Clinical. Rational.

“He’s going alone?” you questioned, your voice quieter than Bucky was expecting. Your focus was solely on Steve, brows knotted at the center. There was a soft waver of concern in your tone he was sure did not go unnoticed by the rest of the team. You’d seen Bucky’s right-hand curl to an aching fist enough times at the mention of his former captors. You knew the wounds were still fresh, the ink on his pardon barely dried.

Steve nodded reluctantly. “We’re going to make a lot of noise, but don’t mistake me. This is a stealth op. Giving Bucky a team is only going to slow him down.”

“You could at least give him back up,” you argued, the gentle hesitancy dropped from your tone. Your hands planted firmly on your hips. Tension coated thick into the room.

Bucky was about to step in, to put a careful hand on your shoulder and tell you he could handle himself just fine, that there was nothing to worry about. Maybe he’d crack a joke. Maybe then he could brush off your concerns and the knots in his stomach as simple worry for a reliable partner. But one of the senior agents – Hanning – cleared his throat first.

“She’s right, Cap,” Hanning said. “It’s not a good idea to send him in alone.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief, looking to Steve with a challenging smirk, but Bucky knew Hanning’s words for what they were. His stomach bottomed as he started to reach for you, to pull you back from the room before you could hear the rest of what Hanning was surely about to say. Bucky could read it on each of the agents’ faces – how they all looked down their noses at him, how thier gazes flickered to the reflection of his left arm in disgust, how they tensed the moment he stepped on board the jet. Humiliation burned hot in his cheeks before Hanning even uttered another word.

“See!” you hit Steve lightly on the arm. You grinned back in Bucky’s direction and did not see the dread weighing in his eyes. “Just give him two guys. Just enough to make sure he’s—”

“—watched. We all know the Winter Soldier can’t be trusted alone in a Hydra facility.”

You stilled at Hanning’s words. Bucky watched the edge of your jaw flicker as you clenched the muscle, your hands gripping tight to the edge of the table. Bucky wondered if it might splinter under your hold.

“Excuse me?” Venom dripped from your tongue on every syllable.

“You said it yourself,” Hanning replied with a short shrug of his shoulders, as if you had simply misheard him. “The Winter Soldier shouldn’t be left on his own. No telling what he’d do unsupervised. Especially around his old buddies.”

You flinched – actually flinched.

To Bucky, this wasn’t anything new. The serum has cursed him with heightened senses strong enough to overhear the quiet whispering when he entered the gym, the nervous murmuring of rookie agents who had grown up on ghost stories of his most prolific crimes. He noticed every frantic skip of a frightened heartbeat and every cold, seething glare of an agent whose loathing outweighed that of his fear. There was little room for anything else amongst the agents within SHEILD.

You – and only a few others among the Avengers – were the exception.

His pardon was conditional. He couldn’t afford the kind of trouble these agents were egging him into. One step out of line and he’d find himself with a lifetime sentence on the raft. Maybe that was what he deserved, but he couldn’t risk retaliating against the agents, couldn’t so much as chance a bitter word thrown back in their faces. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that it was only in fear of not seeing you again that held his tongue.

Bucky had grown numb to the taunts and the stares long before he stepped foot in the tower. He knew how to keep his head down, how to swallow back his pride at the expense of his dignity. He learned how to endure the humiliation, the shame. Hydra had taught him well.

You, however, did not tolerate it.

“He can’t be trusted, Cap,” Hanning went on, turning to meet Steve’s warning stare. “We’ve lost too many guys to his friends at Hydra. I don’t care what papers the President signed. You can’t let the Winter Soldier—”

“Stop calling him that,” you hissed, pounding a fist against the table. The holographic blueprints flared in response. “I said Bucky should have support in the field. Not a fucking parole officer!”

Hanning rolled his eyes; a dangerous choice to make to mock a superior agent in front of her own team. Steam billowed from your ears as several of the agents behind him began to laugh. Hanning wiped his thumb over his bottom lip, his gaze slipping down the length of your body as if to size you up, but he lingered too long. A power move, Bucky deciphered. A means to belittle you. Bucky gritted his teeth.

“He’s a war criminal,” Hanning challenged, ignoring Bucky’s calculated step in your direction.

“He was a prisoner of war!” you shot back, voice raising on every word. “Who was pardoned, by the way!”

“You think that changes anything? A piece of paper doesn’t erase the shit he’s done. Doesn’t bring back any of the SHIELD agents he murdered. Doesn’t make him any less of fuckin’ monster and we shouldn’t have to put up with his—”

“Enough!” Steve ordered, slamming a hand down on the table. The blueprints flickered out until the table powered down. “Hanning, get your men in order. I don’t want to hear another goddamn word out of you until we’re back in New York. Y/n, walk it off. We land in an hour.”

Betrayal seethed in your eyes as your gaze whipped to Steve. You expected him to defend Bucky as fiercely as you did, but Bucky knew better, as did Steve. Steve’s involvement would only worsen the division between Bucky and the rest of the team. They’d turn themselves into martyrs; jump on their high horse and twist Steve’s defense to align with what they already believed – that the Winter Soldier was dangerous, untrustworthy, and corrupted everything he touched. Including the Avengers and SHIELD itself.

And maybe they were right, but it wasn’t a fight you had to be a part of. He worked very hard to ensure you knew little of it at all.

You clamped your jaw shut to keep yourself from handing Captain America his ass next and quickly turned on your heels. Your hand slid around Bucky’s wrist and without much resistance, you dragged him along with you to the other side of the jet. There, you sank against the bench along the frame of the cargo hold and began sliding your hands along your thighs. As he watched you, Bucky wondered if you might tear the fabric of your suit with how intensely you were digging your palms into the muscle.

“Hanning’s an asshole,” you grumbled. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know shit.”

You spoke as if you believed it was an isolated incident – a single, rare occurrence he should brush off his shoulders – and perhaps you did. Perhaps you truly believed that no agent would be as brazen as to mock the former Winter Soldier to his face, but you would be wrong. Their confidence grew each time he kept his head down, each time he swallowed back the rage and humiliation at their taunts.

Bucky sighed, sinking down on the bench beside you. Your hands were still raking against your thighs, your pointed glare still finding its way to the agents huddled on the opposite end of the jet. He figured if he didn’t say something soon, you might lose the battle for your better judgements and take a swing at Hanning before the jet so much as crossed Hydra airspace.

“Make it a hundred.”

You furrowed your brow, your gaze shifting to him. Already, your features began to soften. Your hands stilled against your knees. “What?”

“The bet,” Bucky clarified, forcing a smile. It didn’t touch his eyes and it ached, but it was all he could muster. “Make it a hundred this time.”

A smirk slowly lifted the corners of your mouth and Bucky felt a weight slip off his chest.

“You’re on.”

***

“Do you want know what I’m going to do with your money when I win?”

Bucky dug his teeth into his bottom lip to repress a determined smile as your labored voice crackled through his coms. He could hear the static of the radio waves and the frequent draw of your breath as you led your team in combat on the second level. You’d learned early on to switch your coms to an off-channel frequency while you were separated. Steve was the only one who was aware of the isolated channel, but he knew better than to listen in unannounced.

“Huh, Barnes?” you challenged. He could practically see your smile edging up your cheeks. “Should I tell you how I’m going to spend your hard-earned cash?”

“You do remember you’re the one engaged in combat right now and I’m on an abandoned floor alone, right? Do you hear those odds?” Bucky smirked to himself, imagining the hard roll of your eyes as you scoffed into the coms.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think, Barnes. Maybe you’ll stub your toe on a desk. Don’t underestimate my skill against these... amateurs,” you spat the last word as if to make a point to the man you were currently barreling a fist into. “Now let me tell you how I’m going to waste your money.”

“Go on,” Bucky chuckled. He stalked through the empty hallway, passing by old offices and labs as he scanned in search of the vault in question. Hydra was rather predictable that way.

“Well,” you exhaled and clearly threw a punch at your opponent by the grunt that followed, “Sam’s birthday is coming up."

Bucky froze in his tracks; any trace of a grin wiped from his features. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Your laugh echoed in his ears and damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound he’d ever heard – took him right out of the Hydra facility he wandered through, out of the memories attached to the lifeless, concrete rooms, and brought levity back to his chest. How you managed to do that while fighting your way through a hoard of Hydra agents was beyond him.

He turned into a promising office at the end of the hallway. Lavish enough to be one of the higher officer’s, with priceless stolen art on the walls and a desk chair that resembled a small throne. He rolled his eyes.

“Six ahead! Erikson, McKinley! Go now!” You shot an order at one of your men before returning focus back to your side conversation with Bucky. He smiled at the sharpness of your tone – the authority, the respect you commanded. Just as easily, your tone shifted to the gentle teasing reserved only for him. “Maybe I’ll replace the side camera on Redwing you shattered in Guatamala last month.”

Bucky groaned and drew out your name in a long, exasperated tone as he began fumbling through a pile of stray papers on the messy desk. You started to laugh again and Bucky couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the ends of his mouth. It was damn near infectious.

“Fine, fine.” Your voice was breathless; either from the fight or the laughter, Bucky wasn’t sure. “I might venture a trip out to Coney Island. I hear they have life changing soft serve.”

Bucky chuckled just as he tore open a locked drawer, shifting through the contents. “You’d have a hell of a lot of cash left over.”

“Well let’s see,” you began, a short pause followed as you knocked out another combatant. Bucky could hear the thud of the body at your feet. “Two tickets on the train, two world-renown ice cream cones. It adds up, Barnes.”

Bucky furrowed his brow. A sudden unwelcomed pit formed in his stomach as he straightened his back, his hands slipping from their task at the desk. He swallowed, though his throat was dry.

“Two? Who would you—”

“Are you really telling me you don’t want to show me around your old stomping grounds?” you teased, as if he should have assumed you’d only ever been talking about him. “I can be generous with your money, Buck. I’ll even treat you to a funnel cake if you want.”

Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, his teeth gnawing at his lips to suppress the grin and the flush in his cheeks. He didn’t dare look up at the Hydra symbol painted on the wall ahead of him, but he wondered then if the memory of it might have any effect at all in the wake of your laughter through the coms.

“That so?” he managed to reply, trying to find a piece of himself from the forties that could talk to a woman without stumbling over his words. His heart was pounding. Thundering. His hands gripped the edge of the desk in effort to stop the shaking of adrenaline, but it was such a lovely feeling.

“I might even win you a stuffed animal.”

Bucky exhaled as if it might relieve the pleasant aching in his cheeks. “Those games are rigged, you know.”

“I have my tricks.”

A throat cleared at the doorway.

Bucky jolted, his hand on the trigger and safety unlatched before he got a good look at the face of the man watching him from the hallway. His smile fell as he froze – the sound of your voice calling to him through the coms went unanswered. You must have heard the sudden hitch in his breath, noticed just by the short gasp of air that something was wrong.

Hanning didn’t so much as flinch as he stared down the barrel of Bucky’s gun. His arms were folded over his chest, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Bucky didn’t dare wonder how long he’d been there watching. He was losing his edge. Distracted in the one place he was supposed to be clinical above all else.

Slowly, Bucky lowered the gun and latched the safety. Hanning cracked his neck to the side as six of his men emerged from the hall behind him. Bucky gritted his teeth and raised a hand to his coms.

“I’m going dark.”

No time at all passed before you argued, “don’t you dare! Not while you’re out there alone.”

Bucky kept clear watch of Hanning and the six agents slowly making their way into the room, knuckles cracking against their hips, stretching their arms. A quiet anger simmered under the surface – boiling in his veins though no steam would release him from the rage it carried.

“I found the vault,” he said, the lie slipping too easily off his tongue. “It’s heavily armored. It’ll cause interference. I’ll meet you on the jet.”

He didn’t like the short clinical statements he was giving you, as if you were little more than a handler requesting report. It wasn’t like him and you knew it.

“No. Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.” Desperation clouded into your voice.

“I said I’ll meet you on the jet,” he replied sharply; harsher than he ever intended to be with you, but Hanning’s patience was wearing thin and Bucky would not stomach you being able to hear what was about to happen.

“Okay.” You were quieter now, your breaths more labored. Bucky’s stomach wrung in knots. “Just be careful.”

He turned off the coms before regret could sink in.

“No more Avenger in your ear now, huh?” Hanning jeered, a cockeyed smirk hanging on the left edge of his mouth. He shook his head, a darkness sinking into his features when Bucky refused to answer. “Christ. She’s just as pathetic as the groupie sluts camping outside the tower.”

“Leave her out of this,” Bucky growled. He knew full well of the crowd who chanted his name, holding picket signs in support of an innocence he wasn’t sure belonged to him. Bucky wasn’t convinced they knew much of anything about his crimes. He often wondered if they would still draw hearts around his name if they knew the volume of blood on his hands.

Hanning scoffed. “She used to be a damn good agent before you started fucking with her head, you know that? Maybe if I take her to bed next, she’ll start defending my honor, too.”

The desk cracked under Bucky’s grip; splintered under his palms. It didn’t matter that he’d never touched you in that way. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t so much as whispered a breath to the torch he carried for you. But reputation and rumor weighed stronger than truth. And Hanning didn’t seem to mind which served him best.

“We both know why you’re here, Hanning,” Bucky said, his voice taunt in the effort. “Stop beating around the bush.”

A vicious smirk warped Hanning’s features as he signaled to his men. Bucky steeled himself – an agonizing, familiar feeling – and he waited for the first blow to land.

***

Bucky took his time returning to the jet. He didn’t bother turning his coms back on after he begrudgingly tore open the vault door at the back of the office and obtained the files SHIELD was after. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to stomach the onset of questions you’d throw his way, the inevitable concern in your voice, or the lies that would slip too easily from his tongue.

You and Steve would have already returned to the quinjet by now and he was certain you were wearing a tread into the floor of the debrief room. If he closed his eyes, he might have been able to picture your arms folded tightly across your chest, the scowl creating lines down your forehead, and the hushed grumble as you muttered under your breath, eyes constantly darting back to the door in search of him.

Bucky took no pleasure in his lies. He did not enjoy the slight hitch of concern in your voice as you begged him to stay on coms. No— it tore into his chest in such a way he was left wondering if there would be anything left at all if he continued this way.

But you couldn’t know.

You couldn’t know the truth of how far men like Hanning would go to appease their fragile egos. How agents of an organization you dedicated your life to abused their power and a loophole in the system to ensure they could pull one over on the Winter Soldier in favor of bragging rights and a misguided sense of justice. You couldn’t know it wasn’t Hydra that left him bruised and battered after these missions, but instead the agents under your watch.

Bucky paused as he came up on the ramp to the back of the jet. In the vague reflection of the charcoal surface was a trail of welts and bruising covering most of his face. Red had seeped into the white of his left eye. The center of his bottom lip was split open; blood dripped down his chin and left stray droplets against the chest of his jacket. He quickly brushed his wrist against his mouth, smearing the blood onto his hand instead and made his way inside.

Hanning was standing at the edge of the debrief room as his team passed behind him. He raised his hand to you in what appeared to be a mocking salute. You did not react; your arms folded over your chest just as Bucky had imagined and an irritable glare compressed most of your features. But your eyes shifted to the bloody and broken skin on Hanning’s knuckles as his lowered his hand back to his side. You turned and watched him as he joined the rest of the agents.

Bucky swallowed and pressed the button at the mouth of the jet to retract the ramp. While you were distracted by Hanning, Bucky shook his hair into his face, keeping his head down, and made his way to the debrief room as he was required to do. He would not be able to hide the damage to his face for long, but if he could at least conceal your reaction from Hanning and the rest of the team, it might be enough to preserve what remained of his dignity.

You turned and walked back inside the debrief room and Bucky exhaled a heavy breath. As he followed shortly in behind you, he wasn’t surprised to find you had quickly resumed pacing along the back wall of the room. The carpet was slightly discolored under your path.

Only when Bucky closed the door behind him did you notice his presence.

You froze, eyes darting across the room. The relief that sank your shoulders was instant, but brief, because the moment you took in more than just his physical body safe inside the jet, a wash of anger and panic absorbed any traces of solace.

You rushed across the room to him, hands hovering over his shoulders, his forearms, his torso – as if you were seeking to touch him but would not dare to lay a hand upon his body in fear of shattering him whole. Your eyes frantically scanned the open scarring and bruising on his face, searching for more wounds you could not see.

“What the hell happened to you?” You made no effort to obscure the panic trembling in your voice.

“Hydra,” he replied shortly, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. He looked across the room to Steve, who was standing with his back leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Reluctance clouded the blues of his eyes but he did not contradict Bucky’s story.

“There shouldn’t have been anyone on that floor. You said it was abandoned! That was the whole point of drawing them all to us. You should have been clear!” you tried to reason and shot a glance at Steve to confirm, but his gaze lowered to the floor. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned your attention back to Bucky. “Did you get the files at least? Since you insisted on turning off your damn coms to get them?”

Your anger was a mask. Bucky could tell that much for certain by how your eyes shifted consistently to the blood in his left eye and the split on his lip. Fear was not an emotion you took kindly to, especially a fear you had no means of controlling.

Bucky steeled his features the best he could and pulled the rolled file from the inside pocket of his jacket. Blood stained the corners of the crumpled folder and he set it on the table behind you. You did not seem even remotely satisfied by its presence.

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us you’d been compromised?” you argued, shoving the folder further down the table. “I could have sent back up to you! Dammit Bucky, I would have come to you myself! You know I would have!”

Steve cleared his throat as he stepped away from the wall, a pleading heaviness filling his eyes as his head shifted towards you – a means of begging Bucky to come forward with the truth. You deserved as much, didn’t you? You cared for him for reasons beyond what Bucky could comprehend. But there would always be that sliver of doubt; that sickening voice in the back of his mind that questioned whether you might think he deserved the retaliation he got. Bucky only shook his head at Steve to warn him into silence.

Your eyes narrowed on him, gaze following his path to Steve and back. Your instincts were not something Bucky should tread lightly around if he was intent on keeping this from you, and yet – there was some ache of relief to see the questions spinning behind your eyes, the stubbornness drawn to the surface to simply accept his ruse and pretend as though he wasn’t beaten into submission.

Just as you parted your lips, you paused; your attention caught on the monitors just beyond Bucky’s shoulder. Upon one of the screens, Hanning was dramatically mimicking a fight scene to the entertainment of the surrounding agents. The video carried no sound but it was not easy to mistake the arrogant grin upon Hanning’s face as he showed off the bloodied cuts on his knuckles. Bucky resisted touching the bruise along his jawline.

Bucky watched as you slowly moved closer to the monitor, studying every muscle in your body as you deciphered what you were seeing. Perhaps he might have been able to play it off as another one of Hanning’s pathetic attempts at boosting his ego by dramatizing a basic combat training move against a weak-willed Hydra agent, but while some of the agents looked to Hanning as if he were a god among men, some carefully – fearfully – looked over their shoulders to the debrief room. As if they were awaiting retaliation. Or punishment.

Bucky swallowed bile as your spine suddenly went taunt. A gasp drew in a sharp breath to your lungs as you quickly turned to Bucky for confirmation. Suddenly he couldn’t speak – not with the way your eyes were pleading with him to deny it. You turned to Steve next and it only took a second before you saw the weight in his eyes, the truth he’d been hiding at the will of his best friend – how it ate away at him until there was little left. Your hand clasped over your mouth.

“I’ll be outside,” Steve said quietly, sending an apologetic look in Bucky’s direction.

When the door closed behind him, you turned back to Bucky, waiting for him to say something – anything – to help you understand what happened. Hanning was an asshole, but to do something like this was unheard of. To attack a member of their own team under the ruse of a mission...

And maybe he should have confessed everything then and there, but his own fears were too strong – the possibility you might laugh in his face and side with Hanning, that you might believe him to be as vile and violent as the rest of them, undeserving of a second chance.

So instead of an explanation, he reached into his back pocket and watched as your face contorted into something akin to horror and grief as he handed you a crumbled hundred-dollar bill. His hand trembled as he extended it to you.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was barely a whisper; gaze fixated on the speckles of blood on the corners and under his nails.

Bucky released a breath, though it burned on his exhale. “You won.”

You looked as though you might suffocate under the silence that sank into the room. Tears blurred into your eyes as you slowly took the bill from him, your fingertips lingering against his hand, and tossed it onto the table behind you as if the paper had burned you.

“I don’t care about the stupid bet, Bucky! I don’t... I don’t want your money! I never wanted your money. Not ever,” you told him, voice shaking. You clenched your right hand into a fist as if it might quell the lump building in the back of your throat. “How long has this been happening?”

Bucky’s own throat was coated in gravel. “It doesn’t matter.”

“So, it has happened before.”

His stomach bottomed as he realized he’d given himself up. You were always too smart for him, too smart to fall for this pathetic ruse. He should have known better than to think he could keep this from you. He prepared himself for your anger, for your disappointment, for your mockery, but instead something akin to guilt sank into your features and Bucky swore his knees might give out entirely.

“Our own men have gone after you like this... they’ve beaten you on these missions, reported it off as field injuries, and I... I just didn’t know?”

You brushed at your tears. Bucky suddenly felt nauseous.

“This isn’t your fault,” he said quickly, giving up on any attempts at concealing his lies further. He could not stand for you to think that you played a single role in this mess. This was on him. Only him. You were only ever the light in his darkest days. You could not hold an ounce of blame for what happened. He wouldn’t allow it.

“You were in the med bay last month,” you realized suddenly, an awful mix of remorse and agony coating your features. “You were separated from the team when you were jumped. You said... You said it was Kingpin’s men but... it wasn’t, was it? SHIELD agents put you there. They were the ones who attacked you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his hand curling tightly to a fist as if that might stop the trembling. “This isn’t your burden to carry. I can take care of myself.”

“Not my burden?” you scoffed. “Look at you! Jesus, Buck. How is this even possible? You should be able to take these assholes on without breaking a sweat! I’ve seen you spar. I’ve fought alongside you. I know what you can do! Hanning barely has a scratch on him. You should have been able to knock him on his ass without—”

You froze and slowly, your shoulders sank.

“God,” you exhaled, the realization shattering every inch inside your chest as you met his eyes. “You don’t fight back. You can’t, can you? Your pardon. It’s—”

“—conditional,” Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his matted hair. “One word to the council that I’ve stepped out of line and they could revoke it. I could end up on the raft for the rest of my life. And maybe... maybe I belong there anyway but I’m trying to better. To right the wrongs I’ve done. To... to be on the right side of things again. I can’t do that from behind bars. And if word got out I’m throwing punches at the good guys, that’s exactly where I’ll end up.”

“I won’t let that happen,” you swore, wasting no time in your promise. Before he realized it, you were standing only inches from him, your fingertips gently tracing the golden lines on his left hand. He wondered then how he could have ever feared mockery and disgust from a woman who touched him so tenderly.

A tired smile tugged at his broken lip. “Steve doesn’t even have the power to intervene if it came to that. Let this go, Y/n. I can take a few punches if it means getting a chance to start over.”

You winced at his words, clenching your jaw as if to choke back a sob. “You can’t keep letting them do this to you. I won’t let you.”

“What would you have me do?” Bucky asked, his voice absent of anger or challenge. It simply carried the heaviness of defeat, of acceptance. “You know what would happen if I gave the council a single reason to doubt which side I’m on. My hands are tied.”

He realized his mistake the moment a deadly calm swept over you. Clarity, like standing under the eye of storm. Your gaze darted to the monitor where Hanning was still mimicking his fight with Bucky.

“Y/n, wait!”

But you were already halfway out of the room. You did not turn back at Bucky’s plea as you stormed around the corner of the short stretch of hall and into the primary deck of the quinjet. Steve straightened from his position leaning against the wall, his eyes darting behind you where Bucky was quickly following behind. But it was not Steve you’d come in search of.

Hanning was laughing with a hoard of his men, gathered around the holograph table worth more than any of their miserable lives combined. He rolled his eyes at the sight of you, making a mockery of the fury raging into every line upon your face as you sought him out as he swatted his buddy on the arm.

The bastard even had the unearned arrogance to smirk as he foolishly turned his attention to Bucky. “Enlisting your girlfriend to fight your battles for you, huh?”

You did not so much as slow your pace, did not draw in a full breath or acknowledge the slight furrow in Hanning’s brow before you threw a punch directly to his left cheekbone. He cursed as he jolted away from you, hands flying to his face as blood began to gush down his nose.

“What the fuck is wrong with—”

You didn’t give him time to finish before you grabbed a firm hold of his collar and tossed him to the floor. Agents scrambled out of your warpath as you stalked after him.

Hanning looked up at Steve, holding onto his broken nose. Blood seeped from between his fingers. “Do something!”

Steve did not avert his gaze as he replied, “I didn’t see anything.”

Hanning’s eyes widened as you dropped to your knees beside him and fisted his collar. “Sergeant Barnes may not be able to fight back without breaking his pardon, but I sure as hell can. And unlike you, I don’t need my fights rigged to win. Lay a hand on him again and I’ll ensure you walk away from your next mission on a fucking stretcher!”

Hanning clawed at your grip, fear seeping through every line upon his face. “You can’t threaten me!”

“Wanna bet?” Your nails nearly tore through the Kevlar fabric of Hanning’s shirt. “I’m an Avenger, asshole. You’re no one. I can make sure you’re transferred to the furthest corner of this planet. You’ll wish you were in space with the tree and the goddamn racoon!”

Hanning’s panicked eyes darted back to Steve who only shrugged and turned his attention to the passing of clouds outside the cockpit windows.

Bucky couldn’t help the smirk as it tugged at his mouth. He folded his arms firmly over his chest, sinking back into his stance. This image of you – baring your teeth, vicious in every muscle, seething in defense of him – was one he would commit to memory. He’d return to it in his darkest hours when he could find no answer for the cruel voices in the back of his mind – to draw upon this moment to chase away his demons with your anger and protection.

“Are we clear?” you ordered when Hanning was too stunned to respond. He nodded frantically, as did the rest of the crew. You released Hanning’s collar and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He stayed still as stone as you slowly rose to your feet and brushed off his blood on the thighs of your pants.

Your chest heavy and steady – each breath longer than the last. You did not tear your eyes away from Hanning for even a second, ensuring he felt every ounce of the rage burning inside of you.

Bucky took a step forward, unbothered by the stares of the agents as he approached you. He set a hand on your shoulder, instantly noting the rigid tension in your muscles.

“Come with me,” he requested, his voice quiet enough only you could have heard him. You expelled a breath as if it were made of fire and slowly followed him from the room.

Bucky stepped inside the debriefing room first. He looked to the windows where clouds were passing by below the jetstream. Steady. Even. He took as much of their calm as he could manage and picked up the crumpled hundred dollar bill from the table. When he turned to face you again, he attempted to hand you the money but you held your hands up defensively and took a cautious step backward.

“Bucky, no. Please, I don’t want it,” you resisted, your voice hollow and pained. “I only made the stupid bet to get you to stop being so reckless. I don’t want your money.”

He smiled at your stubbornness, at your scheming means to keep him safe. Bucky inched closer to you, extending his left palm up until you cautiously set your hand in his. His thumb drew a careful line along your palm and you watched him with such startling precision, he wondered if you might have been committing the feeling to memory.

“What happened to our plans for Coney Island?” he asked softly.

Tears spilled over your cheekbones as a tired laugh escaped you. He pressed the bill into your palm and closed your grip around it – holding it tight at the center of your hand as gently as you might his own heart.

“I should have said something the first time it happened,” Bucky said quietly, his gaze still fixated on your closed fist resting on his palm. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

“No, I do.” He sighed, concentrating on the smooth skin of your hand. He skimmed his thumb along the tender skin on your knuckles, his heart suddenly heavy in his chest. “You didn’t even hesitate to defend me. Didn’t even second guess why they might have gone after me. You... you didn't question if I deserved it.”

Your face slacked at his admission. “Bucky...”

“I should have told you,” he repeated despite the burden of grief in your voice. He knew now that if he’d offered you a share of this weight from the start, that maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this far. Hanning wouldn’t have planned each mission to ensure he cornered Bucky on his own and got in enough swings to fuel his pathetic, sheltered ego. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t have spent so long believing this was his penance.

You lifted your free hand to the side of his face, gently settling against the bruising to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes, sinking into the feeling. Your thumb brushed along a tender ache on his cheekbone but there was no pain under your touch.

“I know now,” you told him softly, “and it won’t ever happen again.”

Bucky smiled though it tugged at the split on his lip. “I know.”

You lowered your hand from his face and gently pushed the hundred-dollar bill back towards him. “Take this back, Buck. Take it back and promise we’ll still go to Coney Island.”

Bucky closed his fist around the crumpled bill and slowly nodded. You did not release his hand. You did not pull away. You only held him – touched him as though you could not stand to pull away from him.

“I swear it,” he exhaled, his gaze still fixated on your hands.

You sighed, relief slipping through your body as you smiled at him. “Think you can win me a giant bear?”

Bucky chuckled and he didn’t mind when the split on his lip ached as he smiled. “Should we bet on it?”

---

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes X you #bucky barnes one shot

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parkerpeter24 · 4 months

Text

be alright

i’m sorry i really had my exams 😭 and i couldn’t write in december, but soon i am hoping to post winter blurbs

pairing ➳ tasm!peter x reader.

warnings: heavy angst. like forced kissing and a bit of grabbing.

masterlist

“it’s like you’re never here.” your voice came out shaky. it felt like the cold outside had gotten to you even through the closed window of your room and the radiator going in the room didn’t make you feel warm anymore.

december always felt like a lonely month to you, with your exams approaching and having no plans for christmas or the new year. it always felt unfair that your family got to enjoy while you stressed about your exams. but when you met peter, a little voice inside you told you that this year would be different.

you’d been dating for ten months now and it felt so natural with peter. he was always there for you, always holding your hand, always looking out for anything you needed, always helping you with your homework and your studies, always bringing you coffee.

until he wasn’t.

it stopped by the last of november. maybe it was the stress of all his college projects or maybe he was busy taking pictures to submit in hopes of finding a new job. you told yourself everything was fine for a month but now it wasn’t water under the bridge anymore. now all the avoided calls and the lack of his ‘good morning, beautiful’s had gotten to you.

so, in your state of desperation, you went to the only reliable source to reach peter. his aunt, may.

and it had worked.

when you looked up from your study and found your spandex clad boyfriend knocking at your window, you got up quickly and ran to open it. a little spark igniting in your chest and the voice told you that everything will be okay, finally.

peter climbed in and took off his mask, “you complained about me to may?” were his immediate words. his voice was no sort of sweet like you had expected and wished it to be, “what am i, a child?”

your mouth opened and closed, then opened again and then it closed. peter gave you a look of exasperation, making you frown. you watched him run a hand over his face as he shivered a little, the mix of cold from outside and the heat in your room getting to him.

the room felt eerily silent for a few seconds.

“i didn’t know how else to reach you.” you mumbled.

“just text me.” he sighed and turned to face you as you walked towards your desk, closing your notebooks, placing your pen on the last page you were writing on.

“i texted you hundreds of times!” your voice sounded rushed, “you never answer!”

“don’t you think that means i’m busy?” peter argued. you felt guilt rise and clench your heart in your chest. he sighed, “i was going to text you, but i was busy.”

“it’s like you’re never here.”

and that’s how the fight started. it felt like a fight. it felt like peter was throwing harsh words and pushing you away. you knew his tendency to do so when he thought he was doing something wrong. he knew he didn’t give you enough time and it got to him, and he took it out on no one other than yourself.

“that’s because i’m out there trying to save people.” he pointed a hand towards the window and you gulped, “i’ve got a lot on my plate.”

“so do i, peter.” you pleaded, your voice shrill, “i wish i wasn’t missing you so much but i do. i feel selfish for missing my own boyfriend, how’s that fair?!”

“i’m not trying to make you feel like that, you have to understand my responsibility towards the city-”

“yes, you have great responsibility! i know.” you gulped, watching his face harden. he looked colder, nothing like your peter. you tried again, “i know what you feel about the city… but don’t you think you’re overdoing it?”

he blinked, “overdoing it?”

“peter, you have a life outside spider-man.” you tried to reason with him, taking a step towards him. his brown locks looked so soft and you wished you could run your fingers through them.

“and you want that life to revolve around you.” he rolled his eyes, speaking matter of factly. his words may have been spoken in the heat of the moment, to you it felt well-thought. it felt like peter was slowly twisting the knife that had pierced through your heart.

“i didn’t say that.” you mumbled, feeling your eyes brim with tears. he avoided looking at your face. he knew that if he looked into your eyes, he would break. he would fall down to his knees and cry his heart out. and he couldn’t afford to do that right now.

“it felt like you wanted to.”

to you, it felt like both of you were trying to blame the other for everything that felt wrong. you wanted to throw your thickest history book at him but you also wanted to hold onto him and cry until all the stress you felt vanished away. you wanted to pull at your hair in frustration but you also wanted his soft hands running through your hair, comforting you.

but it was hard to realise the good things when you hadn’t seen the person you care most about in a month and he was not even trying to be civil. so you pushed those thoughts aside and retaliated.

“there was a time before spider-man.”

peter’s eyes snapped towards your face, cold and venomous, “what?”

“there was a time. when there was no spider-man. and the city was carrying on just fine!” your vision was blurred, jaw clenched as you finished, breathing harshly. your nails dug into the palm of your hands as you clenched your fists.

peter stood there, looking at you unbelievably. he was almost shaking from how tense his whole body was. you gulped, almost opening your mouth in an apology but before you could, peter’s voice reached your ears, hoarse and deep, “you said you missed me?”

you took a step back, intimidated by the way he was looking down at you. peter was taller than you but it had always been an intimate thing between the two of you. you liked being the ‘big’ spoon and he liked teasing you about it. but in this moment, it felt like he was a predator, staring down at his pray.

“pete-” you thought you could reason with him about this whole argument. about how stupid it was but he was taking fast steps to fill the distance between the two of you until you felt his breath of your face, “p-peter…”

“well, here i am.” he said, instantly grabbing the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pressed his lips harshly against yours. your hand instinctively flew to the back of his head as his lips mingled with yours. it didn’t start like the other times, it wasn’t sweet. it was rushed, and messy. your salty tears mixed into the kiss and peter’s hand in your hair tightened, pulling at it. you whimpered, but he didn’t stop. his other hand traveled to your hip, squeezing it with force, holding you against him.

you knew it was going to bruise badly in a few hours. he had trapped you between the desk and himself and even though it felt like he was violating all your space, you kissed him back, you tried to hold on to him. tried to calm him down but it didn’t feel like he was in charge of himself anymore.

you tried to push at his chest but you knew it was not gonna help. he was way too stronger against your normal human strength. you felt peter bite at your lip and you gasped at his harsh behaviour, feeling the copper taste fill your mouth when his tongue pushed past your lips. your fist collided with his chest once, trying to make him stop as more tears slid down your face.

you felt yourself sob when peter finally pulled back, but only to pull your hair, prompting your head to tilt backwards. his lips trailed over your neck, down to your collarbone.

“peter, stop!” you cried, trying to push him away from you, your hands hitting his shoulder, trying to snap him back to reality. his teeth dug into your skin and you gasped, “stop.”

you felt your knees buckle, trying to push him away and when peter finally looked up at your face he realised.

he finally realised what he was doing. his grip immediately loosened on your hair, and your hip. and your head sprang forward to reveal your busted lip, his doing. he was holding on to you, this time to stop you from falling down and as were you, hands clutching on to the wooden edge of your study desk.

you looked lost and peter looked petrified as he couldn’t catch your eyes even though he was looking right at them, “baby…”

watching you try to regain your posture, peter felt your hand still pressing against his chest to push him away and he backed off, letting you stand on your own, “i’m so… sorry.” he mumbled, feeling his eyes fill with tears as he watched you wipe your own.

you turned around, your back towards him. he couldn’t move, just staring at you back as he felt his heart fall to the pit of his stomach. he knew he deserved it. he wished you’d yell at him, hit him, do something so he knew how wrong he was. not like he didn’t already know.

“you should go.” your voice was so quiet. so quiet that if he wasn’t spider-man, he wouldn’t have heard it. but he listened to you. last thing he wanted to do right now was ignore you and end up hurting you more than he had for the last month. especially today.

he picked up his mask and you heard the shuffling of his feet. you heard the window slide open and you heard it close. and you heard the ‘thwip’ that took him away from you.

“and i was wondering if you’d clean out the back, you know the boxes and everything that’s clogging the garage entrance…” may trailed off, looking at her nephew who was in turn busy staring at his phone, “peter?”

the old lady placed a hand on her nephew’s shoulder when he didn’t respond, “peter.”

his head snapped towards her, eyes looking tired as ever as he locked his phone, sliding it in the pocket of his jacket, “sorry, i-”

“we don’t have to do this today.” she smiled at him kindly, “i’m sure miles would be okay with helping me. you could use some rest.”

“no, no, i got this.” peter stood up, “it’ll… it’ll keep me distracted.”

may nodded and started telling him all the things she needed cleared out from her garage. she was getting her house renovated, hoping to put a room on rent. it never hurt to have a few extra bucks in hand.

peter followed the instructions, sorting out stuff from the old boxes into the new ones so they could be donated or stored in better condition.

it had been five weeks since he saw your face after the way he left it. he was sure the bruises would be gone by now, at least the physical ones. he sighed and tried to focus on the task at hand but his mind kept wandering back to his phone screen. all the texts he’s sent and the way you hadn’t read them. he was surprised that you didn’t block him because he would have, if he was in the position you were in.

it was january now but peter knew your exams were still going on. he gave you as much space as you needed. however, it didn’t feel like new year without you. without your laughter, there was nothing happy about the new year for him. he tore his eyes away from the screen again and got back to the work. it was going to take way longer than expected if he kept letting his mind wander.

brushing his hands together when he was done, peter made his way inside the house through the garage door. he carried the box with the items may was going to donate.

he walked to the living area but the sudden sight of you standing in his aunt’s house made the box drop from his hands, the (thankfully) metal objects clanged against the polished wooden floor.

peter’s mouth opened, then closed– partly in disbelief, and partly in perplexity. his heart was hammering in his chest as he took a step towards you. for a minute he thought he was hallucinating. his desperation of getting another chance to just talk to you was getting to his head.

it was not until he reached right in front of you, less than five feet apart, and all breath knocked out of his lungs, that he spoke, “you’re… here.”

he was relieved when you responded, “i am.” you nodded almost formally, “i was here to donate some clothes. may asked.”

“oh.” he mumbled, nodding back at you in acknowledgement.

there was a moment where no one spoke. neither of you knew how to, or what to, talk about in this moment. the door to the house was closed but somehow peter felt a gust of wind flow– maybe he left the garage door opened– but that was last of his worries.

“so…” he started quietl, “how are your exams going?”

“good. good. well enough.” you shrugged, “today was the last one actually… so i thought why not clear out my closet too.”

“that sounds nice.” a small smile appeared over his face.

now as the two of you stood in front of each other, it felt like there was nothing else to talk about except for the elephant in the room.

“about our fight…” you started at the same time as peter.

“you look better.”

then both of you went quiet at the same time.

“you go first.”

peter nodded, “i know what i did was unforgivable. i’m not gonna ask you to forgive me. b-but i will keep apologising for it. i will try to make up to you if you let me.” he rushed through his thoughts. you could tell he was being sincere even though his eyes didn’t meet yours. then he surveyed the surroundings, quietly mumbling to you, “it was the lizard. everything was so crazy and i almost got killed and i didn’t want you to worry so i tried to push you away. and my head was going in circles it…”

peter quieted down when he felt you close the gap between the two of you. your arms wrapped around his shoulders and peter froze. until he realised that he should hug you back. a soft sigh left him as soon as his arms were around you and he realised how much he’d missed this.

“i missed this.” you mumbled, as if reading his thoughts.

“i missed this too. i’m sorry i hurt you. a lot.” peter pressed a kiss to your hairline and you closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling for as long as you could.

“i know you didn’t mean to.” you looked up at him when you parted from the hug, “i was really stressed too. i shouldn’t have said things about spider-man. i know how much it means to you and i don’t even know how this city was lucky enough to have a guy like you looking after it. i guess i got jealous.” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

peter gave you a smile, “you know you come before everything for me.”

you smiled in return, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it once, “so then… i’ll get going.”

“oh.” peter sighed, disappointment clear in his voice, “can i…” you waited for him to finish his sentence, “take you out on a date?”

you smiled slightly, relieved to find the same old boy you used to love after what felt like an excruciatingly long time and for a moment, as you nodded ‘yes’ to his question, it felt like everything will after all, be alright.

#peter parker #peter parker angst #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #tasm peter x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm peter imagines #spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman

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saatorubby · 1 year

Text

Cultural differences

Summary: Malleus's way of courting (dragon fae style) creates a misunderstanding between the two of you.

Or in which lilia is an old man™ and is having the time of his life.

A/n: In honor of the announcement of chapter 7, I decided to post this early. May all of you dragon simps get your dragon man. (it's me, I'm the dragon simps)

Genre: fluff

Pairings: Malleus Draconia x reader

Warnings: second person pov, you/your pronouns, gn!reader

"Lilia, child of man doesn't make sense." Malleus was munching on fries, with a pout on his face. He was apparently, what lilia called 'sulking'. Let me assure you he was not! Absolutely not!

Lilia brought up his hand to his face to stifle a chuckle that escaped him at the sulking fae prince, who put another one of the fries in his mouth.

Lilia finds situations like these quite entertaining, he loves observing the youth of today. They are peculiar, to say the least.

Though lilia understands malleus's crisis, he couldn't help but be amused.

After all, how many times do you see a powerful fae at his knees for a magic-less human he befriended in an abandoned building.

"Well, tell me what happened," Lilia said with as much seriousness he could muster and put his teacup down.

Malleus' eyes lit up and he visibly perked up about getting the chance to talk about how he have been trying to court you.

"I took prefect for a walk with me in the woods behind ramshackle where we danced to once upon a dream." He lets out a dreamy sigh, his chin resting on the back of his hand.

What a wonderful night that was.

The sky seemed jewel studded with how many stars there were. Your warm hand in his considerably colder ones. An impulse to hold you closer. So he asked you for a dance to which you delightfully agreed, blush adorning your face. He will never forget the night when you two sang the greatest love song in all of the twisted wonderland together while dancing.

Eyes his went to your lips many times, but he was afraid he would scare you if became too bold so he restrained himself.

"It was good until that but then I tried to give them jewels from my treasury as a token of my affection, but they keep refusing! I don't know what I've done to anger them. I just wish to mend our relationship, lilia." Malleus let out a defeated sigh his lips formed into an adorable pout.

Lilia knew the meaning of the word treasury, what malleus really meant was his hoard. Like every good dragon, malleus has a hoard as well. It has all of the knick-knacks malleus collected over the long period he has been in twisted wonderland.

Let it be jewels worth millions of madols or a weird thing he found on the street, all of them has a special place in his hoard. He was allowed to take a part of it with him to Night Raven College when he came, the rest is in his treasury room in the palace of Briar Valley.

Lilia, who was far older than Malleus and well aware of human courting traditions, couldn't help but laugh endearingly at the young prince. He then adjusted his expression, looking fondly at the child he had raised, who had now become so old that he has his first love!

Oh...Lilia distantly remembers the feeling of falling in love for the first time, he doesn't remember his first love anymore, for their existence had been erased by the cruel, cruel time that doesn't spare anybody, but he does remember how he felt with them and how gentle they were with him.

At the time he was a battle-hardened General, a war hero, not exactly used to kindness, but he remembers that they were far kinder than anybody he had met before, even now after a few centuries later, he has yet to meet someone like them.

Lilia pulled himself back from memories of long forgotten past and turned to his prince.

"Malleus, they are human." Lilia said simply.

"I am aware lilia, I still dont see what I could have done to have them cross with me." Malleus gave lilia a half-hearted glare.

"Malleus, they are human. You are trying to court them like how dragons court their mate. They don't know how dragons court their mate. They aren't familiar with your courting methods." Lilia nodded towards malleus sipping on his tea, and malleus' eyes widened in realization. Of course! How could he have been so foolish!

Malleus shot lilia a grateful look and said a simple "thank you." And headed out to find you. He must fix this. He has to.

So, you weren't even aware that he was trying to court you? He let out a chuckle.

Of course, why didn't he think of it before? Oh yes, he was too engrossed in drowning in his misery that he didn't notice.

Well, he supposes it's not all lost, after all. He could just explain things, but ah! Humans don't receive precious jewels as a confession of their feelings.

He does have other ideas as to what to give you.

You were coming back from your class, after a long and exhausting day. Professor Trein had given you to write a ten-thousand-word essay on The Human-Fae War that happened in early 1300's.

Your face bloomed into an amused smile as grim grumbled about ace taking his sandwich. You let out an exasperated sigh. They may be idiots, but they are your idiots.

You got grim settled in the bed quickly. He was complaining about not getting enough sleep the whole way back and got yourself settled on the couch in the living room.

You took out your homework, your assignment sheets as well as books you've borrowed from the library and got to work.

It was fascinating really, how two species that hated each other so much could come together like this. Humans and Fae...they have a long-standing history of hate and slaughter. It's gruesome.

The war went on for almost a century.

You were halfway through the essay when, from the corner of your eyes, you saw green fireflies shimmering in your garden. You abandoned your work to greet your friend who, you're pretty sure, has been avoiding you for the past few days.

"Tsunotaro."

"Child of man."

The two of you stared at each other for a minute. Trying to read each other, either by expressions or literally trying to read thoughts in Malleus's case. (He would never do this without your permission, but he was contemplating it)

"Look I-"

"Child of man I-"

"...."

"You go first."

"You can go first."

You scratched the back of your neck with an air of awkwardness surrounding you.

"Okay...tsunotaro, I don't know what I did so that you got mad at me but I am sorry."

Malleus' eyes widened in bewilderment.

"Child of man...I thought you were cross with me." You thought he was angry with you...? A small tender smile formed on his black-painted lips. A smile that was much different from his usual teasing smile followed by a taunting remark. How the corners gently tilted upwards, a sparkle in his eyes that reflected an emotion you couldn't yet place, but you were sure that your eyes reflected the same.

Small laughter bubbled out of his mouth, and not being able to help it you let yourself chuckle with him.

The sound of his laughter was so alluring that you were left wondering whether he had put a spell on you.

Little did you know he wondered the same about you. You had either bewitched him or he was a fool, a fool in love.

"Well, then, I shall make it up to you, beastie. Would you do me the honor of granting me your company for a stroll in the woods once again?" Malleus asked, gallantly. He was quite over the top with his dramatics -posing in a bow, holding out a hand for you to take- while smiling teasingly.

"I would love to, tsunotaro." You couldn't help but chuckle at the dragon fae's antics. Taking his arm you strode along with him to the woods behind Ramshackle.

A gentleman as ever, Malleus produced something in his arm but hid it behind his back before you could take a peek.

"Hey! No fair!" You pouted, seeing your adorable face the future king couldn't help but smile endearingly.

"You shall wait patiently beastie. Patience is a virtue," he said as you strode towards your and Malleus's special place.

He had taken you there for a walk before once. It was a beautiful, beautiful night. Perhaps you should say magical.

Malleus had taken your hand and invited you for a dance. Holding you close like you were the most precious treasure he has ever held. Spinning you around like a fairytale prince (which he was). Your eyes went to his dark-painted lips many times that night, wishing to have a taste of what you thought to be the most forbidden fruit this world had to offer.

You danced and sang one of the songs from your home. Your eyes went to your eyebrows in surprise that the very same song existed here. Malleus seemed fond of the song as well. You could see his bright green eyes soften every time a word of the lyrics left his lips.

"We are here," he announced. You looked around, finding it hard to imagine such a place could be near the desolate place you had come to call your home.

It was a mountain stream. Beautiful, clear water flowed down the steep grades. Shining moonlight above it, making the water in it shine like stars had been brought down to earth.

"Child of man," Malleus quietly pulled you out of your daze. "I brought this for you." He said, but before he could bring out whatever he had been hiding behind his back, you fixed him a stern look.

"Mal, I told you that I can-" before you could say another word, his hand-that he had placed upon your mouth- cut you off.

"I know," Malleus began with an uncharacteristically tender look on his face. "Lilia explained that humans do not court as we do. So I have brought you this." He removed the hand from your mouth and brought out a bouquet from his back.

They were gorgeous, the flowers. The bouquet consisted of red and pink asters. You chuckled, you couldn't have picked more perfect flowers yourself, they were gorgeous but not enough to distract you from the meaning of them and his words from before.

Seeing your joyous reaction, Malleus's eyes filled with hope. "Child of man, I-" he started but before he could get out another syllable, you put your hand on his mouth and cut him off. Amusedly watching as his eyes widened in surprise, clearly not used to people cutting him off, especially in such a familiar manner.

"I would love to, Tsunotaro."

I wish I had a malleus.

Edit: for clarification pink asters mean sensitivity and love and red aster means undying devotion

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