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mo-aiki · 2 months

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One-sided Love Exist... (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)

Summary: You have been in love with your fiancé, but all you know is that he isn't in love with you until you do something about it.

Notes: I got this inspiration from @mayulla, their story is here. Also, I might or might not do a part 2 for this story so wait on that

Warning: fake love, forced love, obsession, I don't condone these behaviors, I just write it.

Love.

Something you have always wished for to happen to you. All of the love stories you have read. You wished to be the princess saved by her knight or to be a princess who saves the one she loves. That was all you wanted. A knight or a prince in shining armor. That's where your fiancé came in.

A duke's son. Your fiancé, Alaric de Caius. He had seemed to fit the mold, perfectly. He looked regal and handsome with his black hair and dark blue eyes. You were only 9 when you had met him, but you couldn't help but smile when you first saw him.

Overtime you had absolutely fallen in love with him. He was a man of morals, he believe in the same things as you of what was right and wrong, he was academically talented, he was athletically talented, and he treated people around him the same whether or not they held a title.

A wonderful man.

But the problems arose when you had seen he had never paid attention towards you.

He never looked you way, seemed to say anything towards you, or seem to acknowledge you at all.

"Good morning Alaric!"

He wouldn't look.

You didn't understand why he ignored you. His indifference towards you, hurt. You didn't know if it was your ego that was hurting or it was truly your heart that was hurting, but something was in pain. But you didn't give up! Both of you were bound to get married to each other, one day!

Often talking to him first, soon enough he responded.

Bringing sweets such as cookies or sweet bread from the kitchen. Watching him eat it with no signs of disgust, might have made your day.

But you must also strive hard too! To be worthy of being a Duchess, you must help him by studying, taking up hobbies such as perfecting painting, embroidery and writing poems that have deep meanings. You must also know how to manage a household, so you asked your father if you could learn how to manage the servant's wages and everything going on in the household.

Everything you did was for him.

You did not partake in gossip with your bestest of friends, you didn't spread malicious rumors about someone, and you tried not to do the most selfish thing if there was a selfless option. Your friends, love you but saw you in pain. "Why do you do these stressful things (y/n)?" they would constantly ask.

"Because I am going to be future Duchess one day, I must prepare!" You would say cheerfully.

Alina Thompson.

Her family was new money. Her father was a merchant who was able to strike gold in selling a once thought, rare ore. Opening trades with the east, she has risen to become the daughter or Baron Thompson.

Your friends didn't like her. One of them saying, "There is something off about her..." and another saying, "Why does she look at Duke Caius like that..."

You had brought it up to Alaric one day. He said there was, "Nothing to worry about, she is just an acquaintance.", and at first you didn't worry, heck you even befriended her. She was pretty. Her hair, long and blonde, her eyes a bright green color like emeralds, and her smile the brightest you have ever seen. She often wore pink and you did as well. But she always seemed to not get along with your friends after a few meetings. Or any noble women in fact. She had always stirred the pot with the other women in high society, supposedly acting different as if she had 2 different personalities in front of others. But she had always gotten along with the men. They spoke high praises of her. From her looks to personality. She even had admirers of her own. She was perfect, but most women disliked her. But you didn't think anything of it.

Until the day of the royal ball.

You saw with your very own eyes. Alaric's arm, being held by her's. She had the brightest, most shameless smile that day. All the men looked uncomfortable while the women were shocked. It was no secret that you and Alaric were engaged. And it was definitely no secret that you were in love with him.

They danced together. They wore matching outfits. Even the flowers on both of their corsages were the same. He had smiled at her as they were dancing. He gave her, her first dance of high society at her first ball, a royal one in fact. There was no way he had no idea what he meant by his actions. Your heart shattered as your friends got mad at both of them.

"Why that sly fox! How could she betray your kindness like this?!"

"(y/n)! If you need to I can kill him myself!"

"No!" you had quietly yelled out.

You friends looked at you, worried on their faces. "(b/s/f #1), (b/s/f #2), I need to...go..."

You ran away towards the royal garden, letting your tears to flow down.

Once you got home, you destroyed the books, the gifts he gave you and finally sat down on the floor and cried you heart out.

Your heart had shattered that day, nothing felt like it was going to fix it. It felt like the end of the world.

The next day came, and you holed yourself up in your room.

Your bedroom door would not open. Nothing will work. Your father was worried, your friends, pestered at you, and the servants knock and check up on you as well. But even though you knew all these people cared, you truly only wanted one person to come and see you, Alaric.

You don't know if you were a masochist or not, but you did want answers.

Soon, one of the maids came in. "Leave me alone..." you mumbled in your pillow.

"No. Duke Caius is here to visit you. So I must get you ready, young lady."

You looked up at the maid as she chuckled. "What's so funny?" you asked almost like a pouting child.

"Your eyes are puffy my lady. If you do not want the Duke to notice it, I suggest you get ready, now."

You pouted as you got up.

The next thing you knew, you had seen Alaric. His perfectly combed over hair, his eyes, calm, and the placement of his lapels, in order as followed. You had bowed your head down slightly, as he sat down at the table.

You didn't even bother looking at him. If you did, you didn't think you could bear it. It was an embarrassing night for you. All you did was look at your tea, slowly stirring the sugar cube, looking at it and spacing out in the process.

"(y/n)?"

You looked up. This was the first time he had ever called out your name. He had always referred to you as Lady (l/n), out of formality, but he has never called out your name like you do his.

"Did you hear what I said?"

You took a moment and shook your head. "No, I'm sorry..."

"That's okay, I can say it again."

Why did your heart tug at this? You felt yourself being anxious for what he wanted to say. But first you wanted the answer to why he brought Alina to the royal ball the other night.

"I had brought out Lady Thompson to the ball a few nights ago, because of her father. He had wanted to make sure his daughter secured an escort for her first royal ball. He had insisted I had better escort her, otherwise she wouldn't come."

An excuse.

"I helped her father find the rare ore that had made him Baron. I must help him again."

Lies.

"So that's your excuse..." you mumbled out of your mouth.

He looked at you, his eyes were still. He had no emotion after what you had just said. "(y/n), it's the truth."

"Lies. We are engaged, but my debutant ball and first royal ball, you didn't escort me at all."

You remember it well. He had said he was busy, and you thought nothing of it, because he wouldn't escort or dance with anyone else anyways.

"When we had our first dance, you didn't even look at me."

It broke your heart that night when you both finally had that first dance you had been waiting for, only to be sad when he didn't smile, look or seemed to be enjoying it in any way.

"I had wanted us to get matching outfits, but you held it off saying, 'you hadn't gotten measured yet'."

He would get measured for an outfit for another woman, but not you? His own fiancé?

You felt nothing but anger now towards him. "Was it a waste of my time to devote it all towards you? I know your favorite snacks, colors, meal, drink, what to do as duchess..."

You felt like you were about to cry again, but tried to hold it in. "WAS IT ALL FOR NOTHING?!" your hands slammed the table as you felt your tears coming down your face as you looked at him.

Hoping he would say it wasn't in vain. That all of these things you did for him, would mean something.

"I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."

You couldn't believe you had ever loved this man.

You immediately went back inside, and into your room to cry once more.

Alaric has never needed anyone close to him.

He never understood you and your stupid antics to get closer towards him. From bringing snacks, to gifting the books he so wanted, to talking to him way to often.

He had an alright childhood. His father was sick and his mother was dead from childbirth, so he needed to become duke heir at a young age. Relying on himself to make the right or wrong decisions while his father's health deteriorated overtime.

His father wanted him to get married to his close friend, Marquis (l/n), so he arranged the engagement before his death, and after his death when he was 15, he kept it on because it was one of his father's final wishes. To see their families united.

But sometimes he couldn't stand (y/n). When he first met her, he had no opinions of her, other than the fact that she was nothing more than a clumsy girl trying to get his attention.

She was trying to live out fairytale romances through him. She had wanted him to be her knight in shining armor. And he didn't care for it.

He ignored her until she kept on pestering him.

Soon, they did their small talks.

He ignored the food she had gave him.

Until he ate it because he was hungry and it was his favorites.

He ignored her all throughout his childhood, because he never needed her as much as he did. He saw her as pathetic, but he couldn't help but fuel her pathetic attempts to get him to love her.

He did didn't need her. He didn't need her at all.

Plus, she was well liked. Both women and men liked her. But sometimes those men that liked her too much got on his nerves to the point of threatening them into silence. She didn't need him, she wanted him. And he didn't need her as well.

But he thought he felt something when he met Alina for the first time. But later, he realized it was nothing more than curiosity. But whenever he was around (y/n), there was always a feeling that he didn't know what it was, but always put it off, until it came creeping onto him whenever he was with Alina.

It was clear she was jealous of (y/n) and her life, so she had tried to mimic her. Her cheery attitude, beautiful smile, and her happy-go-lucky demeanor, even though he could tell that she was nothing more than hollow shell of an impression. She did all these things so that he could pay attention to her. But Alina was worse than (y/n).

Her personality and character are terrible.

She always seemed to get into fights with the other women. Whether petty drama or something a tad bit more serious. She had always seem to never get along with them. Unlike (y/n).

She was terrible at any financial things. Counting money properly, distributing money equally, and figuring out the budget. Unlike (y/n)

She had always seemed to look at others as if she was better than them. Often subtly bragging a new pendant, earrings, bracelet, shoes, dress, or hair accessories. Unlike (y/n)

Her tea was awful to drink. She always stepped on someone's toes for no good reason. Her embroidery was lackluster. Her paintings, a clear imitation. Unlike (y/n).

He remembered a time where (y/n)'s tea was bitter, when she stepped on someone's feet while dancing, when her paintings were dull, and when she had a hard time managing money. It was absolutely a clumsy and nerve-racking time. But slowly, it had shown improvement, unlike Alina's tea.

All of these hobbies that Alina had picked up and all of her personal quirks have cause him to realize one thing.

He would never look her way.

He picked Alina because he thought he could finally drive (y/n) away from her antics and say he is not interested in her at all.

When he went to the royal ball and was dancing with Alina, all he could ever think of was how (y/n) would react in the same situation. Her bright smile, cheerful eyes and glowing aura would all be very lovely. He couldn't help but unconsciously smile during the dance, and it seemed to have fueled Alina's determination to take her down.

But now he wonders why he had those thoughts during the dance with Alina.

She had holed up in her manor ever since that royal ball.

Alaric didn't see her. No letter, no snacks, no anything. Nothing had came. He should be elated. Happy. Excited. Joyful.

But all he felt was a big hole. A big empty hole somewhere in his body.

He had thought he had heard her all over the place. "Alaric. You need to stop overworking yourself to death! You might get sick!"

"It's none of your concerns, Lady (l/n)."

"Huh?"

He looked up from his paperwork, only to see his secretary looking at him, confused? "What did you say, Your Grace?"'

He looked down at his paperwork. "Nothing of note."

It happened again when he was reading through the manor's ledgers. "Can I help you with that Alaric? I'm very good with ledgers!"

"It is fine Lady (l/n)."

"Your Grace?"

Once again, he looked up only to see his butler, looking at him confused.

He felt like he was going insane.

He had developed a high fever one day from overworking. His butler called in the family's doctor, and the doctor said to take a break today.

But his fever kept on running, and the maids didn't know what to do. They gave him water that was too hot, his body kept on sweating, and they gave him food too salty for his condition. They were all incompetent when he was sick all of the sudden. And to top it off, his secretary still needed him to do paperwork for the estate.

During his time with his fever, he unconsciously only thought to see one person. (y/n).

He had wanted her to be by his side when he was sick. To take care of him and to see him recover. He wanted her to scold at him for overworking. He wanted to see her happy after he did recover from this fever. He had wanted to see her, no, he felt like he needed to see her.

He slowly opened his eyes as he was asleep for a bit. He thought he saw her in his groggy state. "...(y/n)..?"

Only to finally see clearly. It was Alina. And she looked pissed, but he was even more pissed. "How dare you! How dare you call out the name of that woman when I'm here?!"

He got up and yelled. "GUARDS!"

She got mad. "Oh, now you're calling the guards?! I came here to help you! And this is what I get?!"

He looked at her with contempt. "How did you know I was sick?"

She looked anxious. "The butler told me! He contacted me with a letter! Look!"

She pulled out a messily handwritten letter as people came up towards his room. His secretary and butler came to his side. "Who is this?" his secretary asked.

Alaric's head was banging, but managed to respond. "Lady Thompson. I do not know how she got here."

Alina looked scarred as the secretary called a maid to call the guards. "How did you get in here Lady Thompson?"

"I got here because the butler told me to come here because His Grace is sick!"

The butler looked confused. "I do not recall writing a letter to anyone."

Alina got mad. "Yes you did! I have the evidence!"

She held her letter as the secretary grabbed it out of her hands. "Butler, is this your handwriting?"

The butler fixed his glasses and shook his head. "I do not write this sloppily, even when writing fast."

Alina got even more mad as the guard got up the stairs. "Your Grace?"

"Take her away, and make sure she never sets foot in the estate again."

"Wha..? HEY!" The guards took Alina while she protested. All the servants went back to work as his secretary looked at him. "I will investigate where that letter came from, Your Grace."

Alaric looked at the ceiling as he started to lay down in his bed. "There is no need. But do investigate how she got in here and how she knew. We might have a stalker on our hands if I'm not careful..."

His secretary nodded. "Yes Your Grace, I hope you recover quickly, soon."

All he could do is stare up to the ceiling. Thinking. If (y/n) had done this, maybe he wouldn't had been as mad as he was back there. Maybe he would had enjoyed her trying to fumble out a response of how she knew he was sick. Maybe he would had enjoyed her antics of trying to cure him of his fever.

He couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly fell back asleep, dreaming.

When he had gotten better after 3 days, he immediately went to the (l/n) estate. He didn't know why, but he needed to go there after his fever.

He was led to the garden as he waited for her to get ready. Then he looked around. The garden was filled with flowers. Pink, white, purple, and blue flowers seemed to be her favorite. The servants brought out her favorite tea set. A pink and white ceramic one. He has only seen it every time she had hosted her friends. She only brought out the other tea sets with him.

She looked different. She looked less lively. Her skin looked pale, her eyes a bit puffy and her hands fiddling with the tea cup, nervously.

He had only brought up his purpose at being in at the royal ball with Alina, when she started talking about his shortcomings in their relationship.

How he didn't accompany her to her first ball, didn't look at her for their first dance, and how he always gave an excuse for not wearing matching outfits.

But something came out of his mouth when talking to her. "I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."

He felt annoyed at her behavior. She got too clingy and annoying now. Bringing up insignificant things. She got annoying in this very moment.

She soon ran away as he left the (l/n) estate.

He wanted to go home and rid his memories of her immature behavior. Hoping that her behavior won't continue again.

A/N: I should do a part 2. But you'll have to wait a while.

#yandere x reader #yandere childhood friend #yandere oc x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere duke #yandere duke x reader #x f reader

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k-hotchoisan · 3 months

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OKAY OKAY OKAY BUT YUNHO GRIPPING YOUR HIPS (I’m a thicker girl so I got thick hips let me live) PRAISING YOUR CURVES BUT BUT BUT ALSO MUTTERING MINE AND JUST BEING SUPER POSSESIVE AND SLIGHTLY DEGRADING and maybe tells you to open your mouth so he can 🗣️💦 (only if you’re comfy with that) BECAUSE SOMEONE KEPT BOTHERING YOU AND OOGLING IVER YIU AND YIU DIDNT GET IT AND WERE SO INNOCENT AND LET IT HAPPENED…..I’m not thinking about that at all. 😫

Alright, enough of San for now, I know some of y’all hotteoks are hungry for some Yuyu so I’m serving it on silver platter for you guys 🥳😛🩷

As always, enjoy! 🩷

golden retriever

Synopsis: “Do you get jealous?” You ask your partner one day. Well, you were about to find out.

Genre/warnings: dom & possessive!Yunho, dirty talk, slight degradation, oral (m & f receive), unprotected sex, cumming on face, cum eating, orgasms

Taglist:

@bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

Golden Retriever.

That’s what everyone seems to associate Yunho as—loyal, considerate, funny and especially so loving. You felt it first hand, even before the both of you officially started dating—him constantly making sure you were comfortable in a room full of mostly men (his friends).

And when the both of you became official, he let you do whatever you wanted—mostly with his arms constantly around you, and you chalking it off as him being clingy. Well, he is known well to be very affectionate, not that you were complaining, and he doesn’t get upset easily, at least, that’s what it seemed.

He was definitely a giver, and he’d cross over the fucking oceans to make sure you were content.

People have different sides to them, that was a fact you knew clear as day. But such a soft person like Yunho, definitely had another side to him right?

“Do you get jealous?” You ask out of the blue. Yunho blinks at your question, wondering what to even reply to that.

You’ve asked all his friends, and they were all pretty adamant that he’s not a jealous lover. It still did not deter you from poking the bear.

And you definitely got your answer when his demeanour completely changes at the sight of another fuckin male trying to talk to you. It started off as ogling your body from a distance. At first Yunho brushes it off—he’s being held hostage by Mingi at the moment near the bar. He doesn’t shift when the male strikes up a conversation.

Yunho simply watches you attempt to entertain this sorry excuse of a person.

And he slams the glass whiskey glass (god knows how it didn’t break) when he notices the way the male is brushing his fingers on your shoulder, and Mingi only surprises a smirk as he watches your boyfriend intercept the failure of an interaction this male tried to initiate.

You jolt slightly at Yunho’s sudden touch on your waist but for some fuck ass reason, introduce the male to Yunho, who apparently was your friend. Yunho barely keeps his face poker, forcing smiles while the male who Yunho does not even bother remembering his name continues to yaps his fucking head off.

Yunho’s annoyed. And he’s never really felt annoyed often.

The fact that you’re completely oblivious to it all makes all the more astounding, especially when your friend had almost touched your arm up while he was laughing away, and Yunho’s arms wrapped around you in the guise of pulling you away, which you thought was nothing more than just a gesture of affection from Yunho.

Half way through his yapping, Yunho, at the peak of his irritation cuts him off, telling you that he has to rush back for an important show he’s catch up on. A blatant lie that you or your friend never caught on.

Oh, but you soon do, when you reach home with Yunho and he has you carried bridal style right into the fucking bedroom.

Yunho has you sprawled on the bed, his fingers wasting no time to tug your bottoms off—including your panties. He’s in a rush to strip you bare for him. Your breathing is jagged despite you trying to calm yourself. Yunho’s lips are burning against your skin as he trails his lips from your sternum till he reaches your hips.

“Pretty curves. So perfect for me”, he murmurs, pressing soft kisses against your skin after every word that leaves his lips. Gasps escape your lips every time you feel him suck against your skin, leaving pretty love bites to bloom in his wake.

“Yu-“, you try, but you’re immediately cut off when he plants another hickey on your hips, a soft groan replacing what you wanted to say.

“Do I get jealous?” He asks rhetorically, crawling over to face you from above. He scoffs as he sinks his fingers into your mouth, swallowing hard when you take his fingers, licking and sucking with a glazed out expression. “What do you think?”

You’re barely in the right mind to process his question, even when he pulls his finger out of your mouth, and especially when he trails his soaked fingers right to your pulsating cunt, rubbing your clit in slow circles.

You grasp at any remaining sanity that remains, your mind swimming in the depths pleasure, ready to just plunge in any moment.

“N-no”, you answer, completely entranced by the way Yunho is staring right into you, lust dripping in his gaze, before your body jolts in pure bliss when he stuffs you two fingers full, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck.

“Not wrong, babe”, he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes entirely.

“But I fucking hate it when people touch what belongs to me.”

There is a haze that’s clouding over your mind when he begins slowly pumping his long fingers in and out of you, the squelching sounds exposing how much of a dripping mess you are. You try to focus on his words, but barely anything is going through.

“And do you know what belongs to me?” He asks you again, his fingers now completely pulled out of you, leaving your cunt fluttering uselessly in the air. You feel like your heart is at your throat, threatening to jump out from the anticipation. You’ve never seen Yunho like this before, and it’s sending electricity through your spine, you feel goosebumps litter across your skin.

You choke on sob, your turn to swallow hard this time.

“Me?”

Yunho’s smile spreads across his face again, oddly calming, holding anything but hints of gentleness.

He’s not planning to let you go tonight.

He’s not planning to let you sleep tonight.

“Smart girl”, he hums, soothing his hands across your thighs, spreading them open, barely giving you any time to process before his cock pushes into your hole, fitting in all the way through despite his size. “But not smart enough to ask your little friend to fuck right off.”

Your mind blanks out, your breathing deepens in an attempt to accommodate his fucking cock that suddenly slid into you, another hard swallow as your thighs shake, and soft whimpers escape you. Yunho finds it all the more endearing watching you slowly fall apart right in front of him like this.

His good boy golden retriever personality is far from a facade, but there’s a sore spot in him that he does his best to ignore. And he does it well.

At least, up until now.

“And you’d best remember that, babe”, Yunho grunts, his thumb sinking into the corner of your lips, watching your eyes roll back as he snaps his hips against yours, making sure you feel the entirety of his cock filling you up to the brim, the sounds growing wetter by the second.

“-big”, you mutter, your body fighting against the pleasure, your eyelids barely holding up. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks as he tilts your head to face him, your eyes watering slightly as you hear Yunho’s voice lulling you back.

“What was that?”

You don’t even hesitate, only feeling your thighs twitch whenever he slides his cock into you again, letting your words leave your mouth without even bothering to filter.

“You’re so fucking big. It’s so much. Fuck.”

Something in Yunho shifts, and he slows down in you, his cock decorated with glistening sheens of precum and cream when he pulls all the way out. You gasp at how empty you feel, about to whine at Yunho and your promptly shut up when his face is right at your soaked pussy, lapping you up from your hole all the way up to your clit.

Your hands immediately tug on his hair. Yunho’s gaze is eyeing you down—watch your reactions as he slowly brings you off the edge. His cock can’t take it—he’s rutting against the sheets and staining them with his thick precum, but he still continues to flick his tongue against your clit, making sure your arching your back in pure bliss.

“That’s it, remember who’s in between your legs, fucking you with his tongue”, his voice vibrates through your pussy.

“Yunho, fuck-, wait, I’m gonna cum-”, you gasp, your orgasm being dangled right before you, creeping into your body. Yunho doesn’t relent, for the first few seconds, and you’re sent off the edge, your toes curling when the sensation hits your pussy, and then your empty, pulsating pussy is filled up all the way by Yunho’s thick cock in seconds.

All while you were being engulfed by your orgasm.

That’s when you realise it—he’s gonna send you to the fucking stars—his cock in you while you were cumming amplifies the amount of stars you see splattered in your eyelids, and he doesn’t give you a chance to cry about being overstimulated, because his hand has your throat in a chokehold while he makes sure he fucks you while you ride your orgasm out.

He never once breaks eye contact with you throughout the process, enjoying the feeling of your cunt just clamping down onto him while he fucks you full. Fuckin hell.

“That’s a good girl. See, it isn’t so hard to be well-behaved, isn’t it?” Yunho hums, his voice still low and husky, biting back the pleasure he’s feeling. You don’t answer—only soft hiccups as your eyes continue to water, but the sounds of your wet, sopping pussy does.

Yunho’s lips engulfs yours, prying your parted lips to open further, and you taste yourself in him, moans muffled when he pins your wrists above you, snapping his hips against yours with raw desire.

“You’re gonna behave and take this load”, he whispers when his lips leave yours, wet with spit. You nod frantically, already surrendering yourself to him. He pulls out of you with a wet sound following, before his cock is facing you, letting you watch him fuck his hand.

A string of curses tied with your name leaves Yunho’s lips when he ruts before jerking slightly, then spurts of white decorate your pretty face, and you stare up at him, cum dripping down your chin, as your tongue sticks out. Yunho only takes it as an invitation to collide his lips against yours, satisfied that he’s tasting himself on you.

“Fuck. Can’t get enough. Need more”, he hisses before his lips are your neck again, littering his marks all over your sensitive skin as he pushes you down back onto the mattress to spread your legs open, giving your clit light taps as his half hard cock slides right back into your abused cunt, and you return the favour with marks down his back.

“Yu-ah! It’s too much”, you pant, your tears fully streaking down your temples when you feel him completely growing fully hard in you.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll definitely show you what’s too much.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #Yunho #y/n x yunho #yunho ateez #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #jeong yunho

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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c ant stop thinking about jealous!joel miller and the way he’d react to seeing others flirt with you. just a little after your arrival to jackson, the three of you tired and just starting to socialize. you get talking with a friend of maria’s who introduced you. and joel is there watching, pretending to be interested in whatever the bored housewife hanging off his arm was even talking to him about. he burns with jealousy he doesn’t know what to do with and ends up crossing the bar to get to you where he makes some kind of show of getting his hands on you and subtly proving his protectiveness and jealousy over other men talking to you. OR he waits until you’re home to shove you up against a wall OR drags you into the bar back room to be all “what the fuck were you doing with him? and why was he touching you and laughing?” and it’s just all so hot. give it some real angst for me, please?

hehehehehe

Jealousy, Jealousy

Joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

having just settled in Jackson, she and Joel are having a hard time learning to share what's theirs.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, pretty rough sex ngl, semi-public too, joel's a teasy lil shit, a dash of angst, a hint of fluff, yeehaw

..............................

She can feel his eyes on her, and it’s starting to make her nervous that he’s going to make a scene. She, on the other hand, is doing exactly what they’re supposed to be doing, being social, mingling with the Jackson community, proving that she isn’t a wild stray that hisses when provoked. Joel on the other hand…

He’s sulking like a damn teenager at the bar in the Tipsy Bison, and she’s been with him long enough to know that his daggered stare is pointed directly at the young man she’s talking to. Maria had introduced her to the guy, Graham, that morning when he joined their patrol shift. He was friendly and easily started cracking jokes with her, crinkly blue eyes and a sandy mop of hair topping off his downright sunshiny disposition. The polar opposite of her man who currently looks like he could moonlight as the grim reaper with the way he’s staring at them.

Joel is already on probation of sorts, after he knocked another guy’s lights out because he was getting a bit too insistent with her down at the stables. Having been on the road for so long, neither of them are used to settling things with means other than guns and fists. Ellie has jokingly begun calling them “big bitch and bigger bitch” for the way they just can’t seem to shake their standoffish nature. For the record, Joel is the bigger bitch. But she’s trying, really hard, and is going to be pissed if Joel thwarts her attempts at making a new friend.

Luckily, Graham is easy to talk to, even when her eyes keep darting over to the other end of the bar where Joel is sitting. She has to do a double take, however, when she sees that someone has joined him. She smiles politely, laughing along to Graham’s story while she racks her brain for the name of the woman who’s suddenly got a claw– hand– on Joel’s bicep where his arm is propped on the counter. Veronica? No, Vanessa. She rolls the name around in her mind, letting venom strike through each syllable.

“Hey, are you good?” She’s startled out of her imaginings of what Vanessa would look like with a bloody nose by Graham waving his hand in front of her face. She takes one more glance at Joel, whose attention has completely shifted from her to his little hanger-on. She has to practically wrench her eyes away from the sight and back to Graham, letting out a forced laugh.

“Sorry, I just– zoned out for a second. What were you saying?” The nagging voice of Maria in her head telling her to “be social” is the only thing keeping her attention on Graham. As she glances back across the bar, her stomach twists when she sees that both Joel and Vanessa are now gone from their seats, but her anxiety is short lived when a broad palm comes to rest around the curve of her hip, warmth spreading across her back that can only be coming from her radiator of a man.

“Graham.” She has to hold back a laugh at the way Joel says his name like it’s a curse, but the bite is lost on Graham who just offers him an easy smile.

“Hey, Joel, it’s good to see you, man. I was just telling her about how–”

“Actually, son. I’m gonna steal this one from you. Our kid needs us.” That makes her head whip around to look at him, but his eyes stay trained on Graham, the only acknowledgement she gets is his fingers flexing where they’re splayed on her waist. Graham’s face falls.

“Oh, um, of course. I hope everything’s alright.”

“It will be.” With those gruff few words, Joel herds her off her stool, slinging his arm over her shoulders as he guides her through the crowd and out of the bar, night already sweeping down the main drag of Jackson. He’s pushing her along at a clipped pace, but she’s having none of it, stopping dead in her tracks to look at him fully.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Ellie? What– is she ok?” He huffs, trying to get her to keep walking, but she holds her ground, not budging when he tries to shuffle her along.

“Ellie’s fine, alright? I– fuck, I made that up.”

“What? Joel, what the hell are you–” Before she can get the rest of her incredulous question out, he’s grabbing her wrist and tugging her down an alley between two storefronts, pushing her up against the brick wall as she struggles to figure out what the hell just happened. But that’s a little hard to do with the way her mind goes blank when Joel smashes his lips against hers, tongue pressing into her mouth when she gasps at the harsh squeeze of his hands groping her ass. When he pulls away with a little smack, a lewd string of spit snaps between their mouths.

“It was either this, or punching Graham’s teeth in.” Before she can respond to his breathless statement, he’s licking back into her mouth, slotting his hips with hers and grinding hard so she can feel the heat of his erection rutting into the front of her jeans. The only thing that gets him to finally let up is her harshly tugging at his hair, making him groan low as he pulls away.

“Are you telling me that all this is because you got a little jealous of Graham?” The hard set of his jaw tells her all she needs to know, and she lets out a laugh.

“Joel, I’m telling you, it wasn’t like that.” He huffs at that, his fingers flexing into the plush of her ass.

“That don’t mean a thing. Saw the way he was looking at you, darlin. Didn’t like it one bit.”

“Well that’s rich coming from you when you had that sweet little thing hanging off your arm at the bar.” She regrets it the minute it leaves her mouth, even more so when a very smug look washes over Joel’s face.

“Hmm, I’m not the only one who’s jealous, huh?” She tries to jerk away when he traces her cheek with his fingers, letting out a huff as he just crowds her further against the wall. He chuckles, the asshole.

“Don’t be like that, darlin. Ain’t nothing for you to be jealous about. Not looking at anyone else but you, you know that.”

“And you know that I’m not looking at anyone else either. I was trying to make a friend, you know, like how Maria told us to?” She jabs her finger into his chest, punctuating her words with a few prods. Joel doesn’t seem convinced.

“Can’t you make friends with someone who isn’t trying to fuck you?” That makes her scoff.

“How many times do I have to tell you? He wasn’t trying to fuck me. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’ve done a thorough job of letting everyone know that I’m your woman.” Joel seems to consider her words, doing something unexpectedly sweet when he trails his palm down her arm, drawing her hand up to press a kiss over her knuckles.

“That’s right, darlin. You’re mine– my woman. Same as I’m your man. But I think you could use a little reminder of that, huh?” Before she can respond to that with something snappy, he’s shutting her up with another crushing kiss, both his hands returning to her ass as he pulls her hips to slot with his. He smears his lips down her neck, nosing away the collar of her shirt before sucking harshly at the newly exposed skin, making her throw her head back against the brick wall with a sharp gasp.

“Joel– fuck– what if someone sees?” The low thrumming laugh he lets out shoots straight down her spine, pooling syrupy heat through her core.

“No one’s gonna see, not if you’re good and quiet for me. Can you do that, honey? Be so good for me, huh?” It infuriates her, really. How quickly he can melt her down, her usual bite going soft and sweet with each kiss, each squeeze of his hands, until she’s all but whimpering for him to give her more. He continues mouthing at her chest until she tugs him up by her fingers raking through his hair.

“No more fucking teasing– I–I’ll be good– just, please–” he cuts her off with a hard roll of his hips into hers, a pressure that makes her dizzy even through layers of clothes. She has to hold back a whine when he completely steps away from her, leaving her slumped against the wall as his eyes take a salacious path down her body and back up to her face.

“Turn around for me, darlin. Show me what’s mine.” Under any other circumstances, she would have rolled her eyes at that entirely pigheaded statement, but she’s got just enough warmth running through her veins from his touch and the liquor she had sipped on to comply without hesitation, turning around and splaying her palms out on the wall as she arches her back, hips shimmying slightly out.

He presses right up against her, heat grinding into her ass while his hands knead and squeeze the sides of her thighs. She yelps when his palm comes down hard on the curve of her ass and he shushes her, leaning further against her while his lips trace the shell of her ear.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me. Gotta be quiet right?” She sighs, mind a little too hazy to answer as his fingers curl around her waist to fumble with the buttons of her jeans, harshly yanking them down along with her panties until the fabric bunches just under the swell of her ass. She’s entirely unprepared when he lays another slap to now bare skin, the burn rolling and spreading through her, doing nothing to help the dampness she can feel smearing in between her thighs.

“C’mon, honey. Need you to tell me if you’re gonna be good for me. Else I can’t give you what you want.” Now he’s just being cruel, and she’s had about enough of it, huffing and craning her neck over her shoulder to glare at him.

“I already told you, you precocious asshole. Just fuck me al–” she can’t finish her sentence, not when he’s sliding into her heat in one languid stroke, his hips fitting snug against her ass. Joel groans low, his forehead pressed between her shoulder blades as he stills inside her.

“Precocious asshole – those are some big words, darlin. Don’t want anything in that pretty head of yours except my name by the time I’m done with you, you understand?” She tries to press her hips back, seeking anything more that he’ll give her, but his firm hold on her hips keeps her stilled, aching around his pulsing length.

“Only gonna ask one more time. Do you understand?” He punctuates his question with a deep grind of his hips, the tip of his cock nudging a spot inside her that makes her eyes scrunch tight from the prickling pleasure.

“Fuck– yes! I understand, I understand, just– please, Joel. Need it so bad.” That seems to appease him, and she sighs when he pulls his hips back, finding a slow roll back into her that makes her preen in his grip.

“That’s my good girl, huh? All mine. I’ll give you what you need, honey.” Any slowness, any gentleness, dissolves with the brutal pace he sets, fucking her up against the wall, rough palms bouncing her hips back against his as they both pant heavily into the clear night air. His one hand comes up to rest over hers where its splayed across the wall, and she imagines fleetingly that his knuckles are gonna be scraped from the way he curls his fingers between hers, twining their hands together and grazing against the rough brick with each punishing thrust.

“So perfect like this– fucking made for me, darlin– right? Just for me.” His words are a hot fog in her mind, and it takes everything in her to form a coherent reply.

“Yes, yes– s’for you– all for you– all yours, Joel– please–” A broken cry catches in her throat when his other hand snakes around her hip, pressing firm against her pelvis as his fingers drag sloppy shapes across her clit.

“That’s right, honey. My girl, my woman– no one else’s. You gonna come? Huh? Gonna come for your man?” His words are choppy, disjointed by low grunts and his hips never stutter in the relentless rhythm he keeps. It all becomes too much, her release catching her off guard as her hips jerk in his hold, the only thing she can manage is a crackled whimper of his name as he fucks her through it.

“So good for me, darlin– that’s it– shit–” She slumps against the wall when he pulls out, the ringing in her ears dissipating just enough to hear the wet glide of his hand as he finishes himself off with a few harsh strokes, warmth smudging over her low back, dripping down her ass as he sighs out her name.

They stay like that for a moment, Joel pressing his forehead into her shoulder, she barely holding herself up against the wall as they both catch their heaving breath. Finally collecting herself, she huffs at his cooling spend now smeared over her skin.

“Joel, how the fuck am I supposed to walk around with your come drying on my ass?” He grumbles at her protests, already hoisting her panties and jeans back up her hips, giving her ass a little pat once they’re back in place.

“Don’t worry, darlin. I’ll clean you up real good soon as we get home.” She finally turns around, immediately resting her back against the wall when her knees start to wobble. Joel grins at her, all wicked and smug, as he tucks himself back into his jeans. She huffs.

“You are impossible, Miller.” He hums at that, bringing his hand up to cup her jaw and press a shockingly sweet kiss to her lips.

“So are you, darlin. S’why we work so good together, huh?” She has to smile at that, leaning up to steal another kiss from him, but the moment is over all too soon when someone interrupts them.

“Goddamn it. I leave you two alone for a few minutes and I find you out here necking like a pair of feral cats. This is a family community, have some decency, alright?” Tommy stands at the mouth of the alley, hands on his hips, and an entirely exasperated expression on his face. Joel steps more in front of her while she tries to subtly zip up her jeans that are still hanging unbuttoned around her hips.

“Got it, brother. Sorry– we were just headed home.” Tommy just shakes his head.

“You’re just lucky it wasn’t Maria who saw you two. Jesus– just– go home. Never wanna see y’all making out again. Fucking scarred for life now.” She’s just relieved that was all Tommy saw.

They sheepishly step out of the alley, Joel tucking her under his arm as she offers Tommy an apologetic smile. Tommy shakes his head one more time before heading off toward the bar. When he’s far enough away, Joel lets out a rumbling laugh. She, however, is less than amused.

“I swear to god, Joel Miller. You are gonna get us kicked out of this damn place one of these days!” She smacks his chest, but he grabs her wrist, holding her palm there as he pulls her into him.

“Me? What about you, huh? Takes two, darlin.” She fights it, she really does, but she can’t help the smile creeping across her face with the way he quirks an eyebrow at her, both of them dissolving into breathy laughter. He sighs, squeezing her hip with his one hand.

“C’mon, trouble. We better get home before the bible brigade comes hunting for us.” She snorts at that, head tipping back in a laugh as they start walking away toward their home. He slings his arm over her shoulders, both of them stumbling along with how close they insist on staying to each other

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Just for you, darlin.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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flordeamatista · 7 months

Text

𝗛𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗠𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻

pairing: bull rider!bucky barnes x heiress!reader

concept: Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

word count: 3k

warnings: best friends to lovers, ranch hand Bucky who works for reader's family, fluff, angst, smut (riding Bucky) soft kisses, nickname- Sweetheart

a/n: I created this fantasy daydream almost a year ago. Hopefully you'll love these other pretty men this fall/winter as well. Way Down We Go Masterlist

lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel and @lfnr-blog-blog-blog

line divider by the lovely @lfnr-blog-blog-blog and she made me the pngs

masterlist

Despite the danger of loss, time purifies something impure, but still wants to be touched.

He sees the world ticking off to every moment in life for him to be ready for the moment because you only have eight seconds to live.

Stepping up to the bull, Bucky felt its rage throbbing through its thick white hide. The creature looked mean, angry, and fierce as it pawed at the ground beneath it. It was ready to face its challenger, waiting for a chance to strike back at the man who dared to encroach on its territory.

Under its thick, white hide, the bull's muscles bulged, while steam hissed from its nostrils. Grasping the sticky rope with one hand and clutching his cowboy hat with the other, Bucky's heart raced. People held their breath in the thick air of tension.

Suddenly, a crackling roar filled the arena, like a thousand thunderclaps rolling across the sky.

One second.

Its horns aimed at the middle of the arena like deadly weapons, as the gates burst open, and the bull charged forward. The packed arena roared as the mighty bull rushed forward, its horns glittering in the moon’s light, and him riding it with the creature of the night.

Bucky's show.

Two seconds.

Terrified that he wouldn't make it to the end, his limbs quivered and his grip on the rope tightened. But then he remembered why he was doing this.

The love.

Three seconds.

He felt a faint warmth behind him, which when he glanced in its direction revealed you at the edge of the arena beaming with pride and waving your arms for encouragement. You came to see him. The applause grew louder and were about to roar even more when Bucky’s hold on the strap and his hat grew tighter.

Three words: Only for you.

Four seconds.

A sudden wave of power surged through Bucky's veins at the sight of you, giving him newfound strength and focus as he fought against being bucked off the wild beast beneath him.

Maintain his body's strength.

Five seconds.

The bull's fury was intensified by the crowd's jeers. The spectators continued to cheer wildly while Bucky remained atop the bull, wishing desperately that he could turn around and see whether or not you were still there.

Observe him, love him, sweetheart

Six seconds.

Bucky's cowboy hat was lifted off his head abruptly as he clung to the bull's back. His legs were spread wide, straddling the saddle and pinning him against its stiff leather surface. The force of the animal's bucking sent drops of sweat flying from his brow, into his sea-blue eyes, and down his throat. He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the rope before stretching out his free arm. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the bull's rhythm, his muscles quivering with each buck. Though he felt himself slipping, he was determined to keep going. He was desperate for any gust of air that could keep him in place.

With every muscle in his body, he willed it to remain still.

Seven seconds.

Bucky saw out of the corner of his eye that you were still there; leaning over one rail with your fist raised in triumph at his progress so far. With this last boost of courage, he made it through to eight seconds.

Bucky soared into the air and landed on his knees, facing you. Dedicated to the person who never seems to leave his mind, the wind knew where to land his two feet. The bull rushed towards him out of the corner of his eye. His attention was caught by clowns maneuvering the bull away from him. Several yards from the fence, his hat lay in the middle. His instincts pushed him forward, despite knowing it was potentially dangerous.

The danger of losing you would be worse if he didn't do it. Then he picked up his hat and bowed when his name sung.

With arms outstretched and legs pumping, he leapt through the open gate and sprinted towards you, where you stood watching.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close. His warm breath caressed your ear as he whispered, “You know I won in eight seconds. I don't want money. I want eight kisses from the sweetest lips in the world." He placed his hat on your head. When he stared straight at you, the glint in his blue eyes revealed something very lustful. A smirk spreads across his face as he licks his lips and walks away.

Electricity flowed between you. The air was electric with anticipation and excitement, as your heart raced. You had been moved by Bucky Barnes' first kiss, which made crossing lines with a best friend harder every day.

You want more kisses, and you want to give him more than eight.

Just as the sun began to glow over the horizon, pink hues were cast over the still landscape. Morning mist hung in the air, the cooling feeling kissing his skin.

A warm, orange sunrise tints his cheeks as he gazes at you in your bedroom, from his hiding spot on your balcony. Taking a breath, he opens the french glass door. A smile spreads over his lips as a breeze blows past him.

A single rose nestled between his fingers looked delicate compared to his strong hands.

Taking a deep breath, he bent forward and placed the flower next to your pillow.

With a whisper of wind, he left his love as he left the room.

Dreams and kisses make one 'I love you' form in his eyes when they are merged from your lips.

The air was heavy with humidity and the sky was painted with orange, pink, and tangerine hues. The light that reflected off the shimmering shadows around you slowly sank below the horizon as you.

A glass of red wine in one hand, you watched from your balcony as he emerged from the hills after working in the stables. Shirtless, he headed up to a spotlight near the tree line, pulling off his glove before running his fingers through his hair.

The soft petals caressed your fingertips as you slowly sank down into the mattress, a smile pulling at your lips as you felt the sudden rush of adrenaline, as if the night whispered in the breeze that things were going to be different from now on. He had given you proof of his love, and now all he wanted was for you to take what he'd offered, to hold onto it with him and keep it by your side forevermore. He knew better than anyone about one thing: love can never be separated from you, no matter how much the air around you sings out to carry his love with you.

In order to embrace this step in your friendship, it took more than just time; it required action as well. He gave you an exit that allowed you to see and feel his love without being forced to confront him; he left his words in this letter, giving you the upper hand.

Taking a moment to savor the memories of the day Bucky entered your life was a joy you recorded. The soft voices of joy and the ever-growing bond between you were evident. A giggle escaped your lips as you ran your fingers over the rose's velvety petals. When it comes to your feelings, he is the heart of it.

You can only watch for so long before dreaming of running your fingers through his hair. Pulling off his shirt, he stripped in front of a spotlight, showing off his body to nature. The sun highlighted his silhouette as he walked closer, to reveal tan skin adorned with sweat and dirt.

The purpose of being outside is to tease him since he sees you. It's not like you walked from that spot to see if he could glance through your window or balcony. You were playing this game of riding with soft gazes, teasing.

You knew that it was wrong to play a game like this, but you couldn't help yourself. In your position, no one played games with the employees, but who has the authority to tell you no. Your body felt a burning sensation as it encounters the one person that makes it feel the meaning of lust and desire.

You felt your heart flutter as you realized what he meant. You wanted to tell him, but the words stuck in your throat. You know you crossed the line that night but what happens if you cross the line every night?

Your family was left speechless when Bucky declined the prize money, saying he wanted something more precious than money asking only for a single rose.

To him, you were the most valuable flower in the world.

The fire inside of me is being built patiently and carefully by you, and I eagerly anticipate the day when it is fully ignited.

Seeing you from the balcony, he stepped closer to get a better glimpse of you from below and saw your fingers tug at the brim of his hat.

His blue eyes darkened, he called your name with a moan. To give him a little show, you slowly unbuttoned your blouse by sliding the buttons through their tiny loops. His eyes were fixed on you intently, watching every move you made. Shadows were cast on the wall behind you as the last sun rays glinted off your exposed skin. As the light faded, you stood proudly.

There was a whisper of wind around the two of you.

You both watched each other attentively.

To the sound of rushing air, he waited patiently while you undid them slowly. When you approached the railing closer to your balcony, your blouse fell to the floor. It was hard not to smirk at his eyes that roamed around you and looked behind him to ensure no one could see this beautiful painting he was seeing.

To start time, you blew him a kiss and yelled, "One".

Time was ticking away, and if he didn't act quickly, his chance would be gone.

You caught his gaze in surprise. As the cool stone of the wall pressed against his hands and feet, he realized it wasn't a dream, but reality.

You steady yourself on the door frame with one hand while the other grasps the blinds. He heard you yell "Two!"

A journey was being set out, and he was determined to follow it wherever it led. The power of your kiss drove him to scale the wall.

Not like last time. Last time he lost his opportunity.

Love remains, despite time's passing.

Bucky saw you sob that night, tears dripping down your face as your ex-boyfriend’s words sunk in. You were nothing more than an object to him, and he told you so.

His hands were strong and calloused as he grabbed yours, yet his touch was gentle and caressing. As he smiled, his eyes showed respect, love, security, safety, and patience. When he released your hands, his fingertips gently touched the side of your face before finding your lips.

Slowly and deliberately, the kiss deepened with an intensity that left you both trembling.

But you ran. You left.

The next morning you ran to leave abroad, and all he could do was watch you go.

From that point forward, he devoted himself to becoming the kind of man who deserved someone like you in his life. In spite of all the advances he received, he refused to accept any of them.

The memories of the day you left melt my heart, I will never be able to forget you, I feel the nights so cold without you, and I keep hoping that I'll see you again soon

This is because he knew your kiss was the only one capable of bringing him the same amount of happiness. He worked hard at your parents' ranch until he was the star.

He waited to taste your lips again.

And now he gets that opportunity.

Bucky's strong hands gently yet firmly grasped your waist; the warmth of his touch sent a tingling sensation up your spine. He turned you around so that you faced him, the blue eyes you had imagined finally appearing before you. All the laughter, knowing you could always rely on him as a friend, him wanting to be yours, and you wanting to be his.

Moving closer, he inhaled slowly, as if stalking his prey. His lips parted a little as he took in all of you.

His chest glistened in the light like a pane of glass, and his chest was covered with streams of sweat, reflecting the light like tiny diamonds. His touch was like a caress of liquid fire on your body, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. You clung to his neck tightly, wanting to stay there forever.

You knew why he'd reprimanded you for being sassy earlier—but when he looked at you with such hunger and desire, it felt like something greater was at stake.

Before yesterday, Bucky always stood by you, and he will stand by you tomorrow as well.

In a whisper, he spoke four simple words: “My lips need kisses."

You smiled to yourself and replied softly, "Let me finish counting. Three!”

His warm fingertips traced delicate circles on your neck nape as his hands reached your shoulders. You felt a sense of security as he gently yet firmly held your hand in his, and then delicately kissed its soft surface. With eyes closed and breath held, you savored the tender sensation of his lips on your skin.

He smirked as you open your eyes and see him. "Four seconds left," he says.

As you stand close to him, he moves down to kiss your lips and instead moves to your check. Grabbing your throat, "Five, pretty boy," you tease him. You felt the heat of his breath tickle your earlobe as he hummed softly before placing a gentle bite just below your collarbone.

You opened your eyes and saw him licking his lips, a smirk playing across the corners of his mouth as he seemed to revel in the quiet. Through the still air, you heard your own soft whisper, "Six! You're running out of time Bucky. What's happened to winning?"

His thumb shifted under your chin, tilting it towards him.

"Seven!" you softly whisper into the air.

A gentle touch, a kiss, a rush, a flame ignited, an unstoppable passion.

His mouth suddenly slams into yours, and you felt his tongue sliding into your mouth as he parted his lips. Moaning into the kiss, you felt him deepening it and he is wet, messy, and desperate.

In that moment, everything else melted away; the heat of the moment, the rush of desire; it's the kiss that ignites your heart.

"Think you can handle another one, Sweetheart?" he hummed between your lips.

"Bucky, you win. You've got it all, and all the kisses."

A passionate lust for him consumed you, and you cannot resist it. You reach for his face and pull him in for a second intense ferocious kiss. You let him inhale every kiss from your lips into his. Your gaze flitted over his eyes and you saw the reflection of desire and hunger.

“I'm gonna ride you, Mr. Cowboy” you whispered breathlessly.

A smile spreads across his face as he hugs you, and you giggle into the room.

Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

“Ride me, Sweetheart”

Straddling Bucky's hips, you slowly lowered yourself onto him. His thickness filled every part of you and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure at the sensation. His hands moved up to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you deeper into him. With each passing moment, you both developed a deep connection; you long to ride every move with him and share every emotion. A wet tongue lapped against the tips of Bucky's fingers and wet fingers running all over your body, sending vibrations throughout. Teasing you as he marked every inch of you.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that?" you moaned softly as you felt the electric shock pass through every inch of your skin as you kept moving yourself towards him. His gaze was hot on yours as he watched every second of this blissful ecstasy. Taking your time, you savored and you reached the point of perfection together. He swept his eyes over every inch of your skin, sending electric shocks through your body that increased with every move.

You were pinned beneath him as he spun around with your hands in his. He brushed your forehead sweat with his lips and whispered into your mouth, "Sweetheart, you feel so good. From kisses to orgasms, everything is yours, and so am I." With a tender kiss, he mumbled, "I belong to you, too."

Your feelings for Bucky were clear from this moment on; you could not bear to be apart from him. In the midst of this shifting world, you might be this lady, but all you wanted to do is ride your rider from sunset to sunrise.

Today, tomorrow, and wherever my kisses of love can lead, I dedicate my entire life to showing you my love.

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donatellawritings · 3 months

Text

cherry - bang bang, kiss kiss - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): language & age-gap

song: taco truck x vb by lana del rey

Laying flat on your stomach, wearing nothing but an oversized printed shirt from college and skimpy boyshorts that hopelessly failed to keep some of your peeking skin concealed, you scrolled on your phone. Soft alternative music hummed through your speaker as you bit down into the swell of your bottom lip - who knew that putting together a dating profile for yourself would prove to be such a meticulous task? An exaggerated sigh was pushed from between your lips as you raised yourself onto your knees, before leaning yourself against the headboard as you carefully chose your three best photos.

Now, it was time for the best part of creating your profile: Age, Sex, Location, Age-Range, and the question of all questions: What are you looking for? It was easy for you to answer the first three questions, yet you found yourself wiping the suddenly clammy palm of your hand against your shirt as you pondered. Sure, being in your early twenties, you've had your fair-share of experience with guys who were in the same age group as you, but what if, maybe, you extended that age-range? Fuck, I mean, your friends have had their own trysts with older men, so, what harm could it bring to you?

Scrolling through the thirties, you found yourself stopped at the ripe age of 45 - the mere thought of being with a man over 20 years your senior bringing a subtle drop of fear to your belly that was quickly overpowered by your sudden excitement. You quickly breathed out a small giggle as you found yourself hovering over the final question. You'd always been precocious, you always knew what you wanted and you went for it, bo questions asked. You wanted to be desired, you wanted someone who would give you the world and everything in it - maybe, it was the hopeless romantic in you, but you'd always envisioned yourself to have a love that was unconditional ... one that you'd give up everything for. So, you sat and typed, and deleted, until you'd found your answer: I want it all.

Once you'd finalized your profile, it didn't take long before you'd found yourself pacing around your room, sifting through what seemed like a never-ending sea of Chicago men who didn't seem to strike you. It seemed as though you'd paced around your room for about an hour, before catching your reflection in the mirror. There you stood, a bit pathetic, maybe even needy? After taking in your reflection for a brief moment, you laughed, "fuck."

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you'd decided you'd wait, give it an hour, you'd shower, eat some dinner, maybe even finish your assignments that you'd been purposely pushing off, until the absolute last day - you will wait.

And so, you waited. You purposely decided to binge an episode, or two, of reality television, you even thought about squeezing in one more episode, before choosing to take a shower where you'd shaved, exfoliated, and washed your hair - hell, you even decided to do an in-depth brushing of your teeth as your peel-off face mask dried. Yet, you now were seated on your bed, laptop open as you tried to force yourself to keep your attention on the blank PDF document before you - you should have been tending to the essay that was worth twenty-percent of your grade, but you found yourself grabbing your phone and unlocking it, aimlessly clicking onto the dating app thats become an instant hyperfixation in your brain.

Swiping through what appeared to be another sea of useless men, you took a breath as you stopped on a handsome, yet deliciously rugged man with piercing baby blue eyes. Straightening your back, you subconsciously pressed your thighs closer together and you scrolled through his photos - fuck, he was hot. He was tall, slim, and worked in a restaurant that didn't take you long to recognize - he wasn't too far from you. Richie was his name, he was 45 years old, and he's a single dad - a divorcee.

This was all fresh, new, and raw territory for you. Not only were you seeking out an older man, the one who'd finally caught your eye was a father - but something about him drew you to crave him just a bit more. Maybe it was the bags of exhaustion that clung to his eyes, or the way that his gold chain clashed against his tan skin, or even the way his suit perfectly fit his slender form? All you knew was that it took one swipe, one millisecond and you'd made your interest in him apparent.

And in that same millisecond, his interest in you was crystal clear as your screen glowed in victory - you and Richie were now matched. "Oh my god," you mumbled, setting your laptop to the side of you as you flipped your damp hair behind your shoulder.

How does one start a conversation with a man she's attracted to, who just so happens to be significantly older than her?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck - okay," You muttered, sighing as you hastily tapped against your phone screen, the sound of your acrylic nails tapping against the glass, bouncing off of the thin walls of your bedroom.

A pathetic squeal left your lips as you quickly sent the message, before placing your phone face-down on your bed.

Richie sat on his worn couch, a spare cigarette tucked behind his ear as he aimlessly ran his finger around the rim of his beer can. The thoughts in his ever so busy mind raced as he stared blankly at his television - his focus a wreck after yet, another intense and draining day at the restaurant. He was sat with his legs spread, his undershirt on full display, courtesy of his unbuttoned dress-shirt as his undone tie laid comfortably over each of his shoulders.

The older man let out a huff as he brought the beer can to his lips, allowing his head to roll back while he downed the rest of the bitter liquid. The abrupt sensation of his phone vibrating against his thigh caused him to slightly flinch as he placed the now-empty beer can onto his coffee table, "shit."

Running his free hand over the scruff of his beard, Richie unlocked his phone to reveal a notification from you. He'd subtly adjusted his back against the couch as he read over your message.

Richie was selfishly drinking you in from the moment his anxiety-ridden eyes fell on your photos. He'd quickly familiarized himself with all three: how plump your lips looked as you pouted for the camera, how perfectly your breasts were cupped by your lace top, and how your eyes bored into his as you posed before what appeared to be a webcam. It was obvious that you were younger than him, and sure, Richie has had his own experience with hooking up with someone younger, but that's all it ever amounted to - a quick fuck that never progressed into anything more.

You enticed Richie, to say the least. You wanted it all, he chuckled. He wasn't much of a devoted romantic, thanks to his failed marriage and seemingly rocky road of relationships that lingered in all aspects of his life.

Would you care that he had a daughter? I mean, fuck, Eva was his entire life - his motivation to keep going, even if everything else around him fell apart at the seams.

The older man cleared his throat, adjusting his hips once more, before typing his response, taking a quick look at the time displayed at the top of his phone screen, before sending.

It was 10:47 PM.

are u awake?

The hum of your phone vibrating against your comforter triggered you to pause your typing on your laptop. You couldn't help but blush as you bit down on the tip of your nail. He responded. Once again, your laptop found itself pushed aside as the bright light of your phone screen met your strained eyes. You nails carelessly clicked against the glass screen as you rushed to respond.

yes

Your heart steadily began to race as you watched the text bubble, indicating his impending response pop up on the screen. A small smile tugging on your lips as his response came into view.

are u real?

"That's fair," you mumbled, eagerly typing your next response.

yes ... do you want me to prove it to you?

A flash of nerves filled swirled at your core as you leaned your head against your headboard - what would you do, if he said yes? You were attracted him, despite having your reservations. There was a part of you that already ached for him, despite only knowing of his existence for not even an hour. Though majority of your psyche went rampant with nerves and fear, there was a small sliver of exhilaration and desire that slowly consumed you.

Your eyes widened with excitement as you screen glowed with Richie's response.

yeah ... just wanna make sure

You responded.

video chat?

He replied.

what's ur number.

You quickly typed in your phone number, before placing your laptop onto your lap and allowing some of your damp hair to fall over your shoulder as you adjusted your reading glasses to sit comfortably on the bridge of your nose. You hastily adjusted the hem of your shirt to sit over your thighs as your screen glowed with a video-chat request.

A short breath seeped through your lips as you allowed the call to ring for a few seconds, before allowing the call to connect.

A warm sensation of relief overtook you as Richie's face came onto the bright screen of your laptop. "Shit, let me fix this fuckin'-" you couldn't help, but smile as Richie adjusted himself to have be appropriately shown on camera, "okay, there we go", he spoke, his raspy voice like warm honey in your ears.

"Hi," You waved, breathing out a short laugh.

You were even more beautiful than your photos. There was something about the way your oversized shirt clung to your breasts, and the way you managed to adjust your glasses with almost every movement made that allowed Richie to feel his hand grip his phone just a little bit tighter. And your voice, god, your voice was laced with nothing but sweetness - Richie could tell that you were nothing, but good ... and that peaked a bit of fear into the back of his mind.

Clearing his throat, Richie spoke, "So, uh, you're real."

You laughed, "yes, I am real, Richie".

Fuck, he loved the way his name dripped off of your tongue, his perked up ears not missing the slight accent that laced your words. Richie's knee began to bounce - he was so fucked.

The two of you sat in silence for a beat, before you decided to break the tension, "I've never- um, I've never did this kind of thing before," you consoled, Richie's eyes not missing the way yours silently pleaded with him to say one cohesive sentence.

"I have, uh, they just-" Richie pauses, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, "they didn't end up going so well to be fuckin' honest."

You nodded wordlessly, indirectly beckoning him to continue his rant.

"I guess, um, I'm just glad that you're real and not one of those fuckin' nerds who sit on their computers and pretend to be pretty girls online." He thinks that you're pretty. Richie continued, his brash tone bringing a blush to your cheeks and you carefully took in the way his eyebrows furrowed when he voice his displeasure.

"But, uh, you go to college, right? That must be fun?" The older man questioned, doing anything he can just to be able to hear your voice fill the walls of his lonely living room.

"Yeah! This is my last year, so I'm pretty excited."

"Cool- that's cool, uh - d'you live with your parents or,"

"No, I have an apartment pretty close to the city."

A gorgeous and educated 20 something year old girl living alone in the streets of Chicago? Richie could drop to his knees - either he has become the luckiest man on earth, or things are about to go horribly wrong and for his sake - he hopes it's a stroke of luck. However, he immediately felt a need to protect you, to make sure that you're ... good.

You take note of the chest hairs that peek out from Richie's undershirt as he lays back against the couch and lowers his phone a bit, there's a part of you that aches to see more, yet you'll just have to settle for pressing your thighs together for a sense of relief.

Richie wants you and in his mind of minds that is crystal clear. But, he is a realist - he realizes that he is a 45 year old man with a kid and quite frankly, he has no time to waste and is a bit too old to continue playing the game of online dating that leads to nowhere. So, he has to ask you-

"Have you ever been with an older guy?" He speaks, his piercing baby blues searching your eyes for answers as he watches you shift your body.

You're unsure how to answer, the fear of your inexperience with dating older men poking at you, yet you decide on being honest - I mean, what is a relationship without honesty and trust?

"No, I, uh, I haven't." You answer, somewhat firmly.

"Well shit, I guess there's a first time for everything." He counters.

You smile.

The two of you let out awkward breathy laughs - you fiddle with your long nails as Richie runs a hand over his face. It's clear that you are both exhausted, yet neither of you are brave enough to say so ... you're both greedy and want nothing more than to soak in the other's presence. But, someone has to - and it won't be you.

"It's pretty fuckin' late and I'm sure that you have classes that you have to be up for and I gotta go to this fuckin' job in the morning, so I guess I will talk to you ..." Richie drones on, unsure on when you wanted to talk to him again - if you wanted to talk to him again.

"Tomorrow?" You ask.

"Tomorrow, yeah."

You bite your bottom lip with a smile, your voice low and sleepy, "good night, Richie."

Richie's knee stills - he's definitely fucked, "good night."

You disconnect the call, your heart pounding in your chest as you let out a breath that you didn't even realize you were holding in, to begin with. Richie was intoxicating, and you knew that, but you just couldn't seem to get enough of him. You'd just hoped that he'd feel the same way about you too.

Little did you know just how addicting Richie Jerimovich truly was.

hi <3 that's part 1 of this series - i hope it was not too long, i just wanted to lay the foundation of their initial reactions to each other so i hope you all enjoyed this - i can't wait to progress this story with you all

#the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear imagine #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #fanfiction #richie jerimovich fanfic #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich x reader

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Text

Pain and Pleasure

Buggy x FemReader

Spicy Toe curling nasty $mut + Fluff

Enjoy my Darlings~ ;3

⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ BD$M Play, Impact play, Unprotected sex, hard sex, mild orgasm denial, sensory dep.

You felt heat simmering from your skin like you were in the sun of the Sandora Desert. Feeling the cool gentle sliding of leather riding up your thighs like someone was placing a ice cube over your steaming form. It was the blue riding crop that you always saw in your Captian's room when he brought you here.

Captian Buggy, the man who had taken you from the dining hall suddently and brought you to his quarters. Tearing your clothes away and tying you with his stripped bandana. When you tried to resist him a cloth had been shoved into your lips, and a scarf tied over your head to cover your eyes plunging you into darkness.

So now here you were, restrained on the carpeted floor of the cabin. Feeling the smooth leather run over your nude body, a sharp pain brining you from your thoughts as the harsh leather of the crop made impact to your thighs drawing a cry from your muffled lips, Buggy laughing darkly at hearing this as he struck you again on the other thigh.

"Let's see~ I warned you about talking to pther men, And I'm sure I saw you talk to 10 just in the dining hall~! Disobeying your Captian is a serious crime (Y/N)~" He cackled out, goosebumps picking up on your skin at his tone.

"Let's count together shall we?~"

He chimed, before the hit of the riding crop struck you again. Buggy counting out loud of each smack, 3, 4, 5... the leather welting your skin and digging in painfully into your tender flesh. 6, 7, 8.

He laughed as you whined in pain, using his foot to spread your legs from your kneeling position rubbing the crop inbetween your legs drawing a shiver from you. You felt the crop move from your skin before the final strikes hit you. 9, 10.

You felt your mind hazy from the impacts that had hit your thighs, warmth flooding your lower regions at the anticipation amd fear.

"Look how reactive you are~" Buggy chimed, tapping the crop over your hardened nipples with a dark chuckle. A shiver running through your body, the world still dark for you from the scarf wrapped around your eyes.

Suddently you felt yourself scooped up, with ease laid across what you assume was Buggys lap and stroking your nude ass.

You felt Buggy's fingers invade your pussy, roughly fucking you with his thick fingers. Your cries of pleasure shaking through your form as you heard him laughing at your reaction. Unsure how you were laid or if Buggy was using his Chop Chop abilities you feel the riding crop again this time sharply hitting you ass drawing another cry from you. This continued, everytime you felt so close to an orgasm another smack of the riding crop hit your body.

Buggy laughing at your cries of frustration mixes with pleasure as he kept your climax hostage with this crop. After 8 hits you hear the sound of the object being tossed away as Buggy pulled his fingers from you, patting your bruised pussy.

Pulling you up to be seated on his lap properly, his hands running up your shaking form for only a second. Before you felt something warm and hard press against your battered thighs, Buggy's hands then finding your hips and forcing you down on his waiting member. A broken moan came out muffled through your gag at the feeling, his starting to slowly thrust into you- The feeling practically painful with how pleasurable it was. After only a few minutes of slow teasing thrust had you close to tears and ready to cum, his mouth finding your chest as he bit down on the soft flesh of your breast and ran his tongue over your nipples. Your thighs shaking in bliss at the treatment, but his lips left your chest too quickly.

"Ah ah ah Doll~" You heard his low voice teasing you, stopping his hips just enough to keep you from your orgasm earning another loud cry in desire from you.

He began to roll his hips inside of you, slow and evil to work you back up into a frenzy without release. Suddently as if his impacients won out he started to roughly fuck up into you, the slow teasing now gone as he used you like a rough sex toy. Fucking you harder then you've even been before, tears soaking the scarf over your eyes as overestimating shot through your body.

As you felt his hips stutter against yours as he came inside of you, Hearing him groan loudly above you as warmth flooded your body. His fingers squeezing the welts with the riding crop It was just enough to force a hard orgasm from you, it shocking your body and you swore you saw white through the darkness of the scarf. Your hips shaking as you felt Buggy lift you off his weepy cock, you heard a clink before something cool touched your bruised pussy and in a quick motion it entered you. You cried against the cloth gag as you felt a mental plug invade your insides to keep that warmth inside your belly.

"So pretty~" Buggy purred out and set you on the ground to your knees. A mild shuffle taking place around you. You laid there on your knees, panting hard as you felt the stinging pain from the harsh hits and orgasm rush through your system.

"Such a good girl for me Doll~" You heard Buggy purr out, he sounded out of breath as well. There was momentary shuffling around you before you heard him again.

"Let's get you out of this Love" His voice softer, first starting with the cloth gag which made you take a sharp breath of fresh air, Gently the scarf that acted as your eyecover was removed from your face and the dim light hit you making you winced a little. Buggy was knealing infront of you, his shirt was off and he was in pink heart boxers which he had clearly just put on. His gaze gentle with a soft smile.

"You okay (Y/N)? Can you nod for me?"

You nod softly and smile, warmth blooming in your chest as he kissed your forehead.

"Good" He hummed in approval as he undid the bandana that tied your hands behind your back. His hands extra careful to remove the plug from you, earning a overestimated whimper from you.

"Sorry Baby, That should be it."

He said softly and you smiled at him, how gentle he was in times after you guys play. Buggy grabbed a blanket and wrapped into around you with care.

"Thank you honey" You whisper out, earning another kiss from Buggy who carefully picked you up still wrapped in the fluffy blanket. Laying you on your guys shared bed as he got a warm rag and began to clean you up, adding ointment to the welts to your ass and thighs.

"I want to get a different riding crop.. this one digs too much into your skin.." Buggy grumbled as he continued to get you cleaned up. You giggle at his meticulous ways, he cared as much for your Aftercare as he did during your guys BDSM play.

"Eh it's not too bad" You hummed earning a faux scowl from Buggy which made you laugh, he kissed your knee in another act of affection and apology for the deep welts from the crop. He handed you some water and climbed next to you, Tossing the rag elsewhere in the room as he cuddles you close giving a content sigh.

"You're too danger prone.. I mean you asked me last night to do this today for our play" Gesturing to the marks on your skin, waving him off you just smile. He kissed your shoulder making sure you got hydrated and handed you some snacks which the two of you shared. "Oh you like it~" You teased with a wink and munched on some of the strawberries on the snack tray.

"I love you Doll~" Buggy chimed with some apple slices in his mouth, you kiss his cheeks in response and smile at your Goofy lover.

"I love you too Buggy~"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy smut #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown

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darkdemeter · 13 days

Text

KNOW YOUR RHYTHM

IMAGINE… CAPTURING THE ATTENTION OF NEW YORK’S MOST POWERFUL MOB BOSS; AND HE PLANS TO MAKE YOU HIS

Mob boss! Bucky Barnes x Dance choreo! Female Reader

—- gifs/images found on pinterest, credit to original posters -—

While preparations are being made for tgow’s soon to be posted prelude and side blog launch. May or may not be turned into a full one shot later on, this idea's been on my mind for a while now. ────────────────

| TAGLIST

@mostlymarvelgirl @hollyseb @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @identity2212 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @boobsbeesbongos

────────────────┘

(18+ intended content) Read below the cut at your own risk!

It’s cruel to watch you, knowing that this is your last rehearsal with the girls. After this, the doors will promise an opening night to remember. But if you’ve given any hints, you don’t exactly intend on seeing it.

And for Bucky, that is just plain torture for him. Over the past three months, you have been working your pretty arse off creating a whole show routine, expertly weaving the backbone of the club’s entertainment and allocating the playlist to fit the atmosphere Bucky and his club managers wanted.

Lounging in the VIP section, a raised loft that oversaw the club’s dance floor, stage and regulars bar, Bucky still cannot take his eyes off of you. Why of all nights did you have to go racing off to another job so soon? He had paid you generously, far more than any hired choreographer could ever dream of, and yet that still didn’t seem enough to convince you. He hovers like a shadow, leaning to the dark steel railing, his ring-lined fingers drum against the dark steel as he contemplates his next move.

He barely pays any mind to his captains who take their place in the sleek, refined office that are the booths, sipping at their drinks and chatting about the club’s interests and rates. Shit that he tunes out. He can’t focus on anything when you move like that, your body arching this way and that; sinful and cause for impossible. But you prove him wrong. There are many positions he’s fantasised taking you in mid rehearsal.

Your body is pulled into the music itself. A process many seem to struggle with, but for you, it’s as easy as breathing. At first, it’d been a gamble of who to hire for the job, and now Bucky cannot dream of regretting choosing you. Renowned as a star dancer, you’re credited with awards from around the globe, in solos, duos and exceeding the numbers. Competition after competition, your name became well known.

But there is a line in your record, as Bucky had his men find, and though the exact details are still unknown to him, it’s given him an indicator that something hit rock bottom. Some time afterwards, however, you resurfaced as a dance choreographer.

And if you were still the best of the best, then he’d take you for the job. But now, he wants you for good. Dressed to the nines in outfits he’s spent on all his cards, riding to events together and having the envy of every man and woman’s eyes upon you. Hell, he’s already contemplated the venue and diamond ring.

“Chins forward, eyes open,” you call in correction, gaze set straight ahead of you in the midst of a spinning twirl before planting your heeled stiletto hard into the stage floor with a resounding boom.

Bucky’s eyes trail then upwards, the dark colour of your pantyhose hiding your skin that he’s desperate to bruise and leave his fingerprints on. His fingers curl harshly into the railing while his eyes continue to admire while simultaneously undress you, your body hugged in a very form-admiring bodysuit.

Dropping down low with the girls following suit, your hips move on beat with the music, grinding into the floor. That, of all moves, is when you make the grave mistake in glancing up at a striking pair of blue eyes, dark in their passionate longing and so bright you’re quick to force your eyes away.

But not before you flashed him a toothy smile. A smile that kills him every time. Heat rushes through your veins and rises higher into the surface of your skin, in your core it feels electric with pulsating need, but you carry on with the routine, to save face from what Bucky Barnes did to you. Unbeknownst to you at this moment of what you did to the mob boss, he groans at the tightness surrounding his clothed cock as you rock your hips back and forth, suggestive in your choreographed manner. But so dismissive in how it affects him greatly and his ability to conduct business.

No. You can’t let yourself fall into that sort of mess again. Focus. Rolling onto your back, your back arches so beautifully off the floor, it almost has Bucky gasping. The pointed pink of his tongue’s tip darts out to wet his lips.

Completely and utterly mesmerised by your rhythm, he growls like a feral animal when Steve’s voice interjects his still continuing list of how he plans to ruin you and save you.

Now at the end of your routine, you wave for Torres to cut the music and your shoulders fall heavily with an exerted sigh. “Good work, girls,” you applaud with your friendly smile, clapping for their efforts. The girls in turn repay your praise with bashful smiles and compliments of your mentorship.

You had this way with people, and especially those under your study, you were kind and playful but remained an air of professionalism to ensure your students or your time wasn’t wasted.

Bucky feels his skin crawl and his heart drop a thousand yards into his stomach. From the lavish watch strapped to his wrist, he inspects the time. End of rehearsal. End of your contract with him.

“Well, they learnt from the best.” Your head turns fast, vision momentarily blurred, there again is that feeling - that spell - he has you under as he saunters down the stairs and towards the stage where you stood, hands pressed idly into your hips.

His tongue runs over his teeth, groaning inwardly as his eyes sink and rise in study of your entire form. He could see you being his queen. You’ve a powerful stance, that much he can see, and you possess a quality that has the attention of anyone and everyone on you. A commanding presence.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Barnes.” Your cheeks redden more. Praise from your clients always makes your heart flutter with adoration and joy. For them to express their gratitude in the ways they do, it’s good to know you have succeeded in your job.

But when Bucky praises you, you become a giddy girl that gushes and yearns to hear more. He sees the way your face shifts to reflect that professionalism, all to hide the reality of what he does to you; what he could do to you if you just gave him the chance.

“I could be much kinder, Doll.” His voice has lowered into a velvety purr, the callous massage of his fingers shoot a blaze of electricity through the thin fabric of your pantyhose and into your skin like ice, a simple touch over your calf, teasing you further as his palm encloses around you as well, sliding up and down gently. Despite your position above him, a sight he’ll never grow tired off, his up-tilted chin reaches level with your stomach. He sees the inner turmoil of conflict flash in your eyes, a battle he’s sure he can win if he plays his cards just right.

“VIP access tonight to start?”

You scoff, shaking your head. But the furrow in your brows betrays your true, raw disappointment. You can’t hide it. Not from him. “I can’t. I have an early flight tomorrow.”

Thanks for reading!

————

#female reader #bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky au #bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mob boss bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes oneshot #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x f!reader x Millions Knives [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is like an unholy mix of the manga and Stampede because I could not stick to one continuity. I took a big old shit on the timeline and decided to have Vash and Knives wander around No Man's Land together well into adulthood. Oh, and Vash still has his arm. [ SYNOPSIS ] After years of isolation two weary vagabonds turn your life upside down. [ WORD COUNT ] 8k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, canon AU, threesome (mmf), plantcest/incest, handjob, biting, nipple play, jealousy, dubcon, facesitting, oral sex (m + f receiving), degradation, humiliation, snowballing, everyone is emotionally damaged, everyone is HELLA dramatic, angst, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, creampie, bittersweet ending.

It was the tail end of a blisteringly hot day. You sat in a rickety wooden dining chair, its straight back forcing you to remain upright. It was impossible to relax, the chair causing moderate discomfort. Granted it beat sitting in the sweltering hell that was your home. Your porch always came in handy on hellacious days like this, ones where it felt time was moving slower than usual.

It was rare you ever saw another soul around these parts. You lived on the outskirts of a well off town with three plants. Your home was a comfortable distance from the feral hostility everyone seemed to exude there. You could go days without seeing someone. Occasionally a drunk would get lost and end up banging at your door, an issue you remedied with a rifle, but other than you led a rather lonesome existence.

That’s why it was such a shock to see two figures on the horizon. Initially you thought your eyes were playing a trick on you, that maybe your brain was so desperate for company that it conjured up these humanoid mirages. As they got closer you noticed they weren’t a trick of the eye.

You sprung out of your chair to get your rifle and a few rounds. The heat inside was oppressive; you felt like you were going to collapse under the weight of it. You grabbed what you needed and practically threw yourself out the door.

The figures were in plain view now. It was two men, their features mostly obscured by tattered cloaks. You loaded your rifle and pointed it at them, not wanting to take any chances. The likelihood of them being harbingers of devastation was too high.

Once they were within earshot you called out, “Stay back! I don’t want any trouble!”

They stopped dead in their tracks. One of the men swayed and struggled to find his balance. The other quickly reached out, grabbing him by the waist. He continued making his way over to you, dragging the other man along with him.

You cleared your throat. “I’ll shoot if I have to!”

This didn’t seem to deter the conscious one. Your hands were clammy and starting to tremble. Usually threats were enough to ward strangers off. You’d never actually had to shoot anyone before.

“I—I mean it!” you shouted, trying to convince yourself.

You finally got a view of his face. He was pale, eyes a striking blue-green with long blonde lashes. They seemed to bore holes into your very being. It was an intensity that was frightening yet intriguing. In any other situation you would run inside and hope he wouldn’t breach the door, but you were stuck. Transfixed by his unflinching determination.

“I’m serious!”

You backed up, nearly tripping over yourself. Your rifle was loose in your grip. You felt small, vulnerable. You could picture your demise, your blood spilling and turning the sand around you a hideous red.

“Stop!” you shrieked.

The man winced.

“Stop screaming,” he replied gruffly.

“Stop coming closer then!”

The unconscious man was roused by your lively discussion.

“We don’t mean you any harm,” he said, slowly lifting his head.

His cloak no longer obscured his face. He looked exactly like the other one, but warmer. His skin was sun-kissed. His fluffy hair was golden blonde and cut close at the sides. His eyebrows were dark and his eyes a soft blue. He lacked the otherworldly nature of the other man. His presence was disarming, more human.

“We need he—”

“Don’t waste your energy,” the other replied.

“Then ask if we can stay already,” he laughed.

“Vash!”

“What? I’m tired. I’m hungry. My feet hurt. All I wanna do is sit down,” he whined.

You held your rifle by your side. The whiny one wasn’t looking too good. For all his warmness, he looked like he was being trailed by death.

“My brother… He needs help,” one said through gritted teeth.

“There’s a town not too far off from here. They got a doctor. I bet she could help your brother.”

“He might not make it,” he replied, tone growing more frustrated.

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

He stepped forward, dragging Vash along with him. Your feet were locked in place. The urge to run was strong, but where the fuck would even go? Running out into the dunes would be a death sentence. And quite frankly that sounded unappealing.

When he came to the front of your porch he laid down his brother in the shade. He had lost consciousness again. He looked so frail on the ground, a pitiful existence. You made eye contact with the desperate man standing in front of you. He didn’t seem as intimidating up close, the worry in his eyes settling your nerves.

“Look at him.”

Vash’s breathing was labored, each inhale getting caught in his lungs. He did look terrible, but you weren’t sure what you could do other than give them a little water and send them on their way.

“Please,” he said, removing his cloak from his head. His hair was a pale ashy blonde, it almost seemed iridescent under the suns’ dying rays.

Vash snickered. “Di—did you just say please,” he said weakly.

“I’m doing this for you!”

The three of you went silent. The sky slowly turned from orange and pink to a muted purple.

“You guys can come in. It’s pretty stuffy inside though,” you said, gesturing towards your home. “I gotta open the windows… There should be a breeze coming through about now.”

“Thank you,” Vash said. He tried to stand, but couldn’t get up, his body too heavy for him to bear.

You hated to see anyone struggle and went to assist him. As you held out your hand, the other one slapped away your hand.

“Don’t touch him.”

“Nai, it’s alright,” Vash replied, taking your hand.

For someone looking so fragile, he was pretty heavy. You led him inside with Nai close behind.

“Sit here,” you said, guiding him to your plush sofa. It was the most luxurious thing you owned, a comfort you fought for at an illegal auction.

You went to open the windows, letting the cool breeze blow through the house. You lit your lanterns, filling your living room with a soft, yellow light.

“You can sit down too, y’know.”

Nai stood uncomfortably by the door.

“I’d rather not.”

“Suit yourself,” you said. You stood in front of him, wondering if he’d take a hint and move. “I need to get something from outside.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Beyond the door. The thing you’re blocking.”

He blushed and moved out of the way.

“Thank you,” you said, brushing past him.

There was nothing from outside you needed but they didn’t know that. Both suns had set below the horizon. The heat had tempered itself, now only a pleasant warmth paired with the cool breeze you longed for all day.

When you returned you found that Nai had finally made himself comfortable on the couch with Vash’s head in his lap. He was stroking his hair, a look of pure worry on his face. It contorted into disdain the second he registered your presence.

You passed by them briskly, pretending you had grabbed something. While in the kitchen you filled two glasses with water.

“Here,” you said, handing Vash a glass.

He eagerly took it and drank it all in one gulp. He let out a sigh of relief, one that softened your heart. You attempted to hand one to Nai but he recoiled.

“You sure?”

“I don’t need it.”

Vash grabbed the second glass from your hand without any hesitation and slammed the contents. His relieved smile had awakened something in you, a need to baby him, to take care of him.

“Do you have any food?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

You nodded and fetched some bread and dried worm meat. It was the only food you were willing to part with. Vash didn’t seem to mind, his face a pinnacle of gratefulness. It was refreshing. Such softness was hard to come by in No Man’s Land.

“Thank you,” he said with a mouthful of food.

You took a seat on the floor, keeping a safe distance from them. Vash seemed sweet, but Nai’s hostility remained. It kept you on edge.

“There’s a hotel in town. You could probably get a ro—”

“No. I’d like to avoid other humans as much as possible.”

Humans. The way Nai said it made it seem like he was spitting out poison.

“You two on the run or something?”

“No,” Vash yawned. “Just lazy.”

“You’re not lazy. You’re weak,” Nai muttered.

Vash sighed and rested his head on Nai’s shoulder. “Would you mind if we stayed?”

Nai flared his nostrils and stared out one of the windows. It was probably against your better judgment to house them, but you felt compelled. It wasn’t as if you didn’t have space. You had a spare room, one with a small but comfortable bed. And it wasn’t as if you ever used it.

“No. There’s a room upstairs you can stay in. Only one bed though. Hope that’s not a problem.”

Nai got up, hoisting Vash to his feet.

“Uh, it’s the one on the left. It gets a lot of sun in the morning so you might wake up sweaty. The blankets aren’t that heavy though.”

Nai led Vash up the stairs. Vash turned his head, making eye contact with you. His eyes were kind and beautiful, like the midday sky. He gave you a smile.

“Thank you,” he said as he disappeared.

You sighed, wondering what you got yourself into. Maybe they would leave in the morning before you woke up, their presence a mere fever dream. There’d be no complaints from you. They were rather odd, their actions unpredictable. You did feel a twinge of affection for the pitiful one, but you told yourself it would fade as fast as it came.

You woke up just before daybreak, stretching your arms above your head. Despite the circumstances you managed to sleep well. You assumed it was a good omen. It was rare you slept through the night without tossing and turning.

You made your way down the hall and heard muted voices coming from the spare room. Vash and Nai had stayed. Though maybe they were planning to leave once the suns breached the horizon.

The door was open enough for you to take a peek and maybe hear more of their conversation. You crept closer and shielded yourself behind it. You looked inside.

They were facing one another, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Their clothes were in little piles on the floor. Listening in on their conversation was the last thing on your mind. You couldn’t stop watching them. You assumed they were brothers because they looked nearly identical, but maybe that was a coincidence. Maybe they were lovers. You couldn’t think of any families that would lie in bed together completely nude. Let alone as tangled up as Vash and Nai were.

Just as you were about to sneak downstairs, your body betrayed you and you let out a bellowing sneeze.

“Shit,” you said, hauling ass downstairs.

You hoped neither had caught you spying. You usually weren’t that kind of person and you wished you could show them that. But pleading your case wouldn’t do you any good, and if you had any semblance of luck on your side, they would’ve thought you were just passing by innocently.

You paced around the kitchen. Your brain felt like it was on fire. They must have known you were there. They seemed perceptive enough. If they were wandering around the dunes, they must have sharpened instincts, better senses. How else would they have survived out there?

A distraction. That was what you needed. You open your cupboards and pulled out some of your more prized foods. A jar of fruit preserves, cinnamon bread, coffee, smoked meat from an animal you couldn’t remember, and a few peaches. It hurt to part with those. You had to talk to three different merchants before they’d even admit to having them. The townspeople were stingy when it came to anything that was fresh.

You set the table for three people even though you suspected Nai wouldn’t eat. You boiled some water, brewing some coffee once it reached the right temperature.

In the midst of your cooking you didn’t hear Vash and Nai come down the stairs. You were too caught up in licking peach juice off your knife.

“G’morning,” Vash said, yawning.

You looked over at them, your tongue still touching the blade. Nai looked at you wide-eyed, a blush blossoming on the apples of his cheeks. It was strange and endearing.

“Uh… hey,” you said, putting the knife down. “Food’s on the table.”

The two men took a seat. You set a plate down of sliced peaches and poured coffee into the mugs. When you went to serve Nai, he quickly covered the mug with his hand, letting a trickle of hot coffee coat his skin. His eye twitched briefly.

“Oops. My bad,” you said, using your sleeve to clean up the mess. It was an automatic response, one you immediately regretted.

Vash laughed with a mouthful of peaches. “Don’t apologize to him.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Nai hissed.

You didn’t like the tension that was building. When you went to change the subject Vash gave you a swift, hard kick to the leg.

“Ow! What is wrong with you?!”

Vash leaned across the table and grabbed your hand. “I’m sorry! I meant to kick him!”

You tried to ignore the throbbing pain in your leg by spreading preserves on a piece of bread, tears flooding your eyes. You shoved it in your mouth, hoping it would stop you from crying.

“I can’t believe you’d kick a poor, defenseless human,” Nai said with an impish smile.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Vash said, glancing at Nai.

You swallowed and pulled your hand from his grasp.

“It’s fine,” you choked out. “I’m sturdy.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Nai!” Vash chastised while he ate a spoonful of preserves. You wondered if he realized that was for the bread, or if he simply didn’t care.

The air in the room was thick, oppressively so.

“So how are you feeling?” you asked in an attempt to remedy that weight.

Vash plucked a peach slice off the plate. “Better, but I’m still pretty tired.” He shoved the peach slice into his mouth, muffling his voice. “If you need us to leave though, I get it.”

When you woke up this morning you hoped they would have disappeared into the night, but now you couldn’t bear sending them back out into the desert. It would be one thing if Vash was in good shape, but he still looked worn out.

“I don’t mind as long as you don’t kick me again.”

“Hm,” he said, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. “I don’t know if I can promise that.”

You pointed at the door. “Get out. Go die in the desert.”

“Make me.” He took a sip of coffee.

Nai stood up abruptly.

“I’ll be outside.”

“There’s not much to do out there… Actually there isn’t jackshit to do out there,” you said.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said gruffly.

He slammed the door as he made his dramatic exit.

“Don’t take it personally,” Vash said, eyeing the smoked meat you had put out.

“He’s your brother, right?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Ah, so you’re used to it then.”

“Yeah…” He looked outside the window. “He wasn’t always like that though.”

You didn’t know what to say so you opted to stay silent. You and Vash ate the rest of the food, not uttering a single word.

The brothers ended up staying for another day, and another after that… and another after that. Nai would disappear into the desert during the day while Vash was essentially up your ass. He followed you around the house like a puppy. He would always offer to help when you’d be cleaning or doing maintenance. Initially you rebuked him, telling him he needed to rest. But after a while you opted to take him up on it. You couldn’t deny that it was nice to have an extra pair of hands, and someone to talk to. It wasn’t until you had company that you realized how much you hated being completely alone all the time.

“How often do you go into town?” Vash asked, sweeping your bedroom floor.

You tucked your sheets under your mattress. “I try to avoid it as much as possible… I only ever go there when I need food.”

“Like those peaches?” he asked, voice full of longing.

You laughed. “Yeah, like those peaches.”

As you were smoothing out your blanket, he came up behind you. His body was pressed up against your back.

“Do you have any more?”

His tone seemed flirtatious but you didn’t want to assume anything. Plus maybe he realized that peaches weren’t cheap and thought he needed to butter you up to score another.

“Hmm?” he asked, his face practically buried in your neck.

You sighed. “You’re lucky I like you. C’mon.”

You brushed him off and led him downstairs. The second you handed him a peach took a bite out of it. You had never noticed how sharp some of his teeth were. You watched him intently, unable to stop yourself.

“I wonder what your brother is up to.” You didn’t actually care, but you needed to distract yourself.

Peach juice made it way down his hand all the way to his forearm. Without any hesitation, he lapped it up, staring deep into your eyes.

“He’s probably just wandering around,” he said before taking another bite.

“Really? I feel like that’d get old after a couple days,” you replied, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation between your legs.

He shrugged and licked the part of the peach he had just bit. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was doing it on purpose. You tried to act as unaffected as possible.

Thankfully Nai walked through the door, covered in sand and tracking it in the house. You groaned and contemplated why you even bothered cleaning.

“What happened to you?” Vash asked.

“Did you almost get swallowed by the sand pit?”

“... I might have.”

“Been there,” you said. “Want to eat a peach about it?”

“No.”

He looked less intimidating coated in rust-colored sand, more boyish. It was kind of cute.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he muttered.

He turned away, posture rounded, and made his way up the stairs. Vash frowned and followed him, leaving his half-eaten peach on the table. You snatched it and bit into it, savoring the juices. You thought about how it would feel to lick it off his chest. You felt feral as you devoured it.

Holding the peach pit in your hand was humiliating. You hated yourself for eating it. You wanted to stay in control and not lose yourself to your carnal urges. But Vash was making that increasingly difficult. You decided to sleep it off on the couch. A nap would do you some good.

When you woke up it was nighttime. Darkness had settled in your house. You carefully got up and lit a lantern. You had no concept of what time it was. All you knew was that you were still tired and you still couldn’t stop thinking about Vash eating that fucking peach. It haunted you. He must have known what he was doing. He could not be that naive, that innocent.

Your plan was to go straight to your bedroom, but the awful morning breath that had settled in your mouth was too much. Brushing your teeth was of the utmost importance. You hip checked the bathroom door only to find it occupied.

“Oh fuck!” you said, quickly shutting the door.

“Did you need something?” Vash asked.

You pressed your forehead against the door.

“I wanted to brush my teeth.”

“Well don’t be a stranger,” he laughed.

You let out a muted groan and opened the door. You kept your eyes on your sink, careful not to look over at Vash and Nai. You put your lantern down and brushed your teeth.

“Did you have a good nap?” Vash asked.

You spat into the sink. “I don’t know. I hate napping that long. Not seeing the suns set is—” You made the mistake of looking over at them and lost your train of thought. “... disorienting.”

They were in your tub. Vash sat on one side hugging his knees to his chest, taking up as little space as possible. Nai was on the other fully reclined with his brother in between his toned legs.

“That’s understandable. Hopefully you can sleep tonight,” he replied.

“I’ll be fucking miserable if I don’t.”

“Worst comes to worst you can always come hang out with us.”

Nai looked like someone stabbed him in the heart. He went to say something but shut his mouth, opting to toss his head back with his eyes closed. For once he decided to ignore the two of you instead of saying something hostile.

You felt like you were going crazy. You briefly looked at Nai’s cock. It was of average length, but definitely on the thicker side. It was framed by a patch of pale blonde pubic hair.

“Uh… Nai,” you said, trying to think of a reason to speak to him. “You okay after falling in the, uh, sand pit?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s good…”

“Yeah,” he said. He opened his eyes and got out of the tub. Droplets of water traveled down his body, leaving a puddle on the floor. “Hand me a towel.”

“Say please at least,” Vash quipped, sinking deeper into the tub.

“It’s fine,” you laughed.

You grabbed a towel and tried to pass it off to Nai. The only problem was your hand refused to loosen its grip. Perhaps it was an unconscious effort to have an excuse to be so close to him. His impatience got the best of him and he pulled it away from you. He wrapped it around his waist and stomped away.

“Sorry about him,” Vash sighed.

“It’s fine,” you repeated.

“Why are you so far away? I don’t bite.” He sat back up. “Unless you want me to.”

“What?!”

“I’m kidding.”

You were incapable of speech.

“... Unless.”

Nothing but silence on your part.

He sighed. “You gotta gimme something to work with.”

You decided to give in, to embrace hedonism just once. “Okay. Sure.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” you said, pulling your pants off. “Fuck it.”

You took your shirt off and unhooked your bra letting it fall to your feet.

“Um. I didn't think you’d actually—” You took off your underwear. “—oh wow—I mean, shit. I’m ruining the moment,” he whined, holding his hand to his forehead like he had a headache.

You stepped into the tub and crawled on top of Vash, pressing your chest up against his. You were eternally thankful that the water was still warm. He ran his hands down your back, stopping at the small of it. Everything about the situation felt surreal. He was a stranger that you couldn’t get a full read on. Vash was friendly but still rather opaque, especially in regards to his brother. Anytime you asked about him Vash gave you bullshit answers that created more questions.

“Why doesn’t he ever eat?”

Vash nervously scratched the base of his skull. “He does! He, uh, eats bugs while he's out there.”

You knew damn well Nai wasn’t out in the desert, skulking around and eating bugs like a little creature.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was how Vash’s lips felt brushing up against yours, how it felt when he held your bottom lip between his teeth. The world around you meant nothing. You were consumed by your lust, driven by your oppressive loneliness.

His kiss was hungry and needy. He kissed you like you could disappear at any moment. He held onto you tight, his fingers digging into your back. You cradled his face in your hands. His skin was so soft which was unusual. Most men that wandered the desert had leathery faces.

He broke the kiss, leaving a trail of them from your jaw bone down to your neck. You tangled your fingers in his damp blonde hair. He smelled like your soap with a strange musky, floral undercurrent.

You were feeling bold so you started stroking his semi-hard cock. He bit down on your neck, driving his teeth into your skin. You winced, but the pain was intoxicating. You gave his cock a squeeze before rubbing your thumb around his sensitive tip.

“You like that?” you purred.

“Uh-huh,” he said, planting a kiss on your chest.

He held one of your nipples between his teeth and began sucking on it. You kept stroking his cock which was now fully erect in your hand. The sensation of his tongue against your nipple felt incredible. All the moans you had been holding back sprung forth. You tried to lock your jaw shut as he went back to toying with your nipples, pinching one between his fingers and the other between his lips.

You squeezed the length of his cock again. This and your moaning seemed to inspire something in him. The most heavenly moans erupted out of him. Your touch was becoming too distracting for him to do anything except buck his hips against your fist.

“What are you doing to him?”

Nai had returned and he looked absolutely disgusted.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know,” you chanted like a prayer.

“It’s fine,” Vash said nervously. “I wanted it.”

You jumped out of the tub and grabbed a towel as fast as you could. You pushed past Nai and sprinted to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

You paced around your room, trying to process what had happened and what the potential consequences would be. But it’s a fruitless task. You were too frazzled and still in the throes of arousal. You took a deep breath and dried your body off. As you crawled into bed you thought about how it felt when Vash buried his teeth in your neck. You ran your fingers down your folds, coating them with your fluids. You rubbed your clit, desperate to come. You covered your mouth to quiet your moans as your body writhed in pleasure. Once your body had calmed itself you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you were startled awake by a series of knocks on your door. You stumbled out of bed and threw on a nightgown. You opened the door only to be greeted by Nai’s overwhelming presence.

“We need to talk.”

“We—we actually don't, which is the great thing.”

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He was gradually invading your space, leaving almost no room between the two of you.

“Was that the first time you defiled my brother?”

“What?”

He grabbed you by the chin. “I said, was that the first time you de—”

“Yes!”

He gritted his teeth. “The last thing he needs is one you clinging to him.”

You were like an animal with its foot caught in a trap, too scared to do anything. He seemed so incensed. You didn’t know what he was capable of, how far his anger would go. He could kill you with his bare hands with ease, a fact that was equally terrifying and riveting.

“I’m sorry.”

He got closer to your face. “You’re sorry?”

“I shouldn’t…” You were at a loss for words. You weren’t sorry at all.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“What do you want me to say?!”

“That you will leave him alone.”

“You’re in my fucking house. How am I supposed to even—”

“Oh? I didn’t realize that gave you free reign to humiliate him. I heard the way you were making him sound last night.”

“If you’re that bothered, you can leave.”

“I’ve been trying to, but he won’t come with me. Because of you.”

“I—”

“Did you think I wanted to be here this entire time? Every second has been torture.”

“Then just go. Leave him behind if he wants to stay that bad.”

“I won’t let you take him away from me!”

Your hair was standing on end. A single drop of arousal made its way down your thigh. Nai seemed to take pride in frightening you. He stroked your jaw with his fingers before forcing them into mouth. You didn’t even bother fighting back. He pushed them in deeper, savoring the sound of you gagging. Tears welled up in your eyes and trickled down your cheeks.

He pulled them out and smirked. You looked so pathetic, so pliable. His eyes darkened and he leaned in to kiss you. For all his threatening demeanor, his kiss was timid and uncertain. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue into his mouth.

This seemed to anger him, or turn him on, you weren’t sure. He shoved you onto the bed, the force of his hands leaving an ache in their wake. He still needed your guidance though. You rolled your tongue up against his. His sloppiness was undeniable, but he was eager which was enough for you.

You reached down and grabbed his cock, cradling it in your palm. He broke the kiss and groaned. You gave it long, languid strokes. He rutted against your hand just like Vash had. The room was overflowing with his moans. You kissed his neck, pressing your lips against his soft skin.

“You sound so cute,” you cooed in between kisses.

He froze, muscles suspended in tension. You rubbed his back, hoping to quell whatever was torturing him.

“Are you alright?”

“Don’t touch me,” he said, pushing himself off of you. His cheeks were flushed and his cock was fighting against his pants. “Ju—just leave me alone.”

There was no hint of forcefulness in his voice, just dismay. And you were flooded with guilt.

That night, Vash sneaked into your room with a blanket wrapped around him. He dropped it, revealing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. It hardly phased you. He got into your bed and snuggled up next to you. You tried your best to ignore his presence, but his arms were wrapped around you.

You were still caught up in what had happened earlier in the day between you and Nai. Having Vash so close put you on edge. He’d never given you any reason to fear him, but you wondered if a similar darkness resided in him. Maybe he was just better at hiding it. You couldn’t stop your thoughts, each one painting Vash in a more insidious light.

“Is everything okay? I feel like you were avoiding us.”

“I usually try to avoid your brother.”

“But why meeeee?” he asked.

You turned to face him. His eyes were wide and innocent, like a blue-eyed baby deer. His face turned you into putty. It wasn’t right to effectively punish him for his brother’s actions.

“I don’t have a good answer.”

He pouted. “You can be honest with me.”

“I barely know you,” you said, staring at his lips.

“That didn’t stop you from getting in the tub with me.”

That was a completely different situation under extremely different circumstances. Fucking someone was nowhere near as intimate or taxing as opening yourself up to them. That was like pulling teeth. You never talked to anyone about your feelings, granted you never had an opportunity to. Even in the presence of others, you compulsively closed yourself off. It was second nature.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to feel close to him. You just didn’t know where to begin. You struggled to believe it would spill forth from you naturally once you started. You couldn’t even articulate the hopeless isolation you immersed yourself in.

He looked a little sad, an expression that tortured you to no end. You needed to show him that you wanted to be close to him. Being honest about your feelings was out of the question so you’d have to do it the only way you seemingly knew how.

You held his face in your hands and kissed him. Your passion was steeped in anguish. You hoped he felt your affinity for him, your desire to tell him everything eventually. Your desperation made you sloppy, drool dribbling from your mouth.

Vash pulled away. “Wait.”

He guided you onto your back and tossed your sheet to the side before getting on top of you. He helped you pull your nightgown up and over your head. He rubbed your cunt through your underwear, his fingers pressing against your clit.

“I wanna know what you taste like.”

Your body was practically vibrating. You gently pushed down on his shoulders, an act he was more than happy to comply with.

He positioned himself between your legs and peeled off your underwear. He kissed the inside of your thighs before biting them, sending his pointy teeth into your tender flesh. He used his tongue to spread apart your folds. He rolled it against your clit and waves of pleasure washed over you. Your breathing became increasingly more audible, each exhale sounding more and more like a moan.

“Tell me I’m good,” he growled.

“You’re such a good boy,” you whimpered.

He let out a pleased hum and arched his back, sending his ass into the air. He was relentless, focusing all of his attention on your aching clit. Both of you were incapable of being quiet.

The sound of the door being flung open swiftly annihilated the lusty haze you had been lost in. It was Nai. His eyes were half-lidded, sleep still clinging to them. He was half-dressed, his pants sloppily pulled on. They weren’t even buttoned.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?”

You tried to push Vash away, but kept eating your cunt, disregarding Nai’s presence. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. You folded your arms across your chest, a hopeless attempt at shielding yourself from Nai’s gaze.

Vash stared up at you. “Call me a good boy again,” he demanded.

“Yo—you’re such a good boy,” you whimpered once more.

“I can’t believe you keep degrading yourself like this.”

Vash relaxed his back and began to drive his cock into the mattress. His neediness had you reeling. You covered your mouth, trying to hold back your moans. It was bad enough that Nai could see you like this; you didn’t need him hearing you as well.

Your stomach dropped as he approached the bed.

“I’ll help you shut up,” Nai growled.

He got on the bed and gave you a forceful kiss as you came. Once you had settled he pulled away and sat on the edge of your bed with his back towards you.

You tapped on Vash’s head. “Want me to suck your cock?”

“Yes,” he exhaled. “Please.”

Vash sat up only for Nai to grab him by the shoulders.

“I should do it.”

“What? Why?”

“I know your body better than anyone else. Better than she ever could,” he pleaded. Nai sounded so softhearted. You wondered if this was the tone of voice he used when you weren’t around. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Vash sighed and ultimately agreed. He pushed Nai’s head down, guiding his brother’s mouth onto his erect cock. You watched in shock. You weren’t surprised in the least, but you never thought you’d see it. Your clit felt like it had a heartbeat.

You slipped two of your fingers into your slick cunt. The longer you watched them, the less you cared about the moral implications. You stopped letting your brain do the thinking. You gleefully watched as Vash laced his fingers through Nai’s hair, giving him better leverage as he forced his cock in deeper.

Every so often Nai would gag, but it didn’t deter him. If anything he seemed to enjoy it. He was furiously fucking his fist. You wished it was yours. You practically drooled at the thought. You kept fingering yourself, not taking your eyes off of him.

Vash bucked his hips against his brother’s face. He held his brother’s head close to his body. Nai struggled to keep it together, the sound of his gagging overtaking the room. You let out a dreamy sigh, grabbing Vash’s attention

“What?” you asked breathily.

“I need to fuck you,” he whined.

Vash pulled Nai off of his cock by his hair. His brother erupted into a series of violent coughs as he tried to compose himself. He had a bewildered look in his now dull eyes. You felt a little bad for him, but your pity melted away as Vash hoisted you onto his cock. He laid back, resting his head on your pillow.

You rolled your hips against his, sending his cock deeper inside. You couldn’t deny how good it felt.

“Na—Nai,” you stuttered. “Come here.”

Nai seemed to ignore you at first, but soon enough he was by your side, sitting on his knees.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to suck on my tits.”

He scoffed but still leaned in and started to suck. He swirled his tongue around your nipple. You rubbed the tip of his cock and started to stroke it.

“You’re lucky I’m letting something as inferior as you touch me,” Nai murmured before flicking his tongue against your nipple.

You tried to ignore him, but he continued.

“I still don’t see what he sees in you,” he hissed.

You squeezed his cock. “I bet you wish that was your brother’s hand, huh? Or maybe his mouth?”

Nai was briefly stunned, but recovered in record time. “It would be more satisfying than whatever it is you’re doing to me right now.”

“Your cock seems to like it,” you taunted. Precum had been leaking from his cocktip the entire time you were jerking him off.

“Can you pl—please stop? I’m trying to focus,” Vash whimpered.

“Tell her to behave herself then!”

Vash groaned. “Nai, just come here. You can use my mouth.”

Nai’s eyes lit up and he pulled his pants off. He crawled over to his brother and straddled his face. He started rutting against it. You missed your view of Vash’s angelic face. Nai’s muscled back while beautiful wasn’t nearly as interesting. You felt excluded.

Vash’s thrusts gradually grew uninspired. His focus seemed to be on his brother. You leaned forward and draped your arms over Nai’s shoulders.

“St—stop,” he sighed. “You’re ruining it.”

You ran your hands down his arms and snaked them around his waist. You stroked his abs before moving up to his chest. You pinched his nipple, relishing in the small yelp he let out.

“Am I humiliating you?”

Nai ignored you. You kept rubbing his nipples, taking in his pained whimpers.

“Aw, are you gonna come?”

“Yes,” he said in between his panting.

Nai’s body tensed up as he came in Vash’s mouth. He caught his breath and laid down beside his brother.

You slid Vash’s cock back inside you. He beckoned you near and you leaned forward. His body felt so warm underneath you. His chest was dappled with sweat. He held the back of your head and kissed you, passing Nai’s cum into your mouth. You swallowed it, savoring the sweet taste. Nai exhaled sharply, clearly offended. Neither of you paid him any mind.

Vash held onto your hips as you rode him. As he dug his fingers into your flesh your body was consumed by ecstasy. You felt like you were ascending to a higher plane of existence. You saw white and you could have sworn you were getting blessed by gods.

He continued to thrust until his cock released a deluge of cum inside your cunt. You loved how he sounded whining beneath you. You needed to hear him moan again and again. He couldn’t leave. You wouldn’t let him. You’d even put up with Nai’s hostility.

“That was amazing,” Vash said. There was nothing going behind his eyes; he was utterly fucked out.

You draped yourself on top of him, burying your face in his neck. “It really was.”

You felt around, trying to find Nai’s body next to you on the mattress. Before you even had the chance to touch him, he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t.”

“Sorry,” you said somberly. “Uh… I had fun… with you.” You hated how hard it was to talk to Nai. Unless you were taunting him sexually you were at a loss for words.

“That’s nice,” he said softly. It lacked the venom he usually infused his words with.

For a while the only sound was the three of you breathing. The reality of what happened sinking into your pores. You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like the brothers were on the same page.

Nai was the one to break the silence. “We really have drifted apart… Haven’t we?”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Vash mumbled.

“It’s true though.”

“Nai—”

“I was… hoping I would feel closer to you. But I don’t.” He got up and headed towards your door. “I don’t understand you at all.”

Vash gently rolled you off of him and he got up.

“Let’s go to bed.” He grabbed Nai’s pants off the floor. “You’ll feel better by tomorrow.” He rubbed the space between Nai’s shoulder blades and kissed the side of his head. “I’m sure of it.”

You could tell Vash was smiling when he said the last part. The brothers left, leaving you alone in your bed. You gathered your sheet and blanket and wrapped yourself up in them. You held yourself tight and hoped sleep would envelope you.

Instead you tossed and turned. You had been lying in bed for a few hours with your eyes shut and nothing more. Your thoughts wouldn’t stop racing; your actions were on loop in your head. Every moan, every touch, every overwhelming emotion weighed you down.

Vash calling out your name was enough to pull you out of this sleepless daze. You threw on a nightgown and rushed into the hall. Your eyes darted around, trying to figure out where he was. He called your name again. He was downstairs. You tore down the staircase and saw a very distressed Vash pulling his boots on.

“He’s gone. I gotta go after him.”

“He’s gone?”

“We fell asleep right by each other. I don’t know how I didn’t feel him getting up.”

He ran outside, yelling Nai’s name. You stumbled after him barefoot. The sand was unforgiving. Little, sharp rocks wedged themselves between your toes. You struggled to keep up. He was practically sprinting. There was no way you’d reach him.

“Fuck. He’s so fast. What the fuck,” you said in between wheezing. “Vash! Wait—”

Before you could even register it, your ankle gave out and sent you crashing into the sand.

“Shit,” you seethed, body writhing into a fetal position.

The pain was immense. You wanted to fight through it, to keep chasing after Vash. But you’d never catch up. He was as good as gone. Tears welled up in your eyes. You kicked yourself for getting so attached to them so fast. You hated that despite it all you still cared about Nai and wanted to win him over. You had let yourself get carried away by delusions. It wasn’t as if the three of you could live out your days in blissful harmony, no matter how badly you wanted it.

You stared up at the night sky. The moons loomed over you painting the desert in their ethereal light. You felt hopeless and dreaded having to drag yourself back home.

Luckily you heard Vash running back towards you.

“Are you alright?” he said, tripping as his foot got stuck in the sand.

“No… Are you alright?”

He popped up like he never fell in the first place. “Yeah.”

He walked over to you and squatted by your dejected form.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

You looked up at him. His red rimmed eyes made them look intensely blue.

“I hurt my ankle.”

He held out his hand and hoisted you up.

“Let’s go home,” you said, grabbing onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

“I can’t. I have to find him. I… I promised I’d take care of him.”

“Maybe he went into town,” you suggested.

Vash’s face fell.

“All those people…” he muttered to himself. “I have to go after him, but I can take you back at least.”

He had you hop on his back for a piggyback ride. All you could do was whimper as your tears kept falling. You didn’t even bother speaking. Vash’s mind was elsewhere, unavailable to you. Once you reached home, he put you down and hugged you tightly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you lied. “I’ll be alright.”

You turned away and walked into your house. You refused to watch him leave. It would’ve made everything feel a hundred times worse.

You awoke the next morning feeling hungover. You stretched your arms over your head and got up out of bed. You tried not to think about Vash and Nai, but everything reminded you of them. They had only been around for a short while, but they left their mark everywhere. When you opened your cupboard for coffee, you nearly started sobbing when you saw your last peach.

“Ugh. What’s wrong with me?” you wailed.

You boiled water for coffee and spread some preserves on a piece of cinnamon bread. It tasted ambrosial. At least one thing in your life remained sweet and unproblematic. Once your coffee was done, you poured yourself a cup and made your way to your front door. Sitting on your porch before the suns scorched the earth would do you some good.

As you went to open your door, you hit something on the other side of it.

“Oof.”

You would recognize that pained voice anywhere.

“Vash?”

He moved away from the front of your door and stood up. He looked exhausted.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“Aw. I was hoping you’d think more highly of me.”

You laughed. “I take it you didn’t find him.”

He cast his gaze to the side, staring at the ground.

“Yeah. I even went to town. A group of drunks said they saw a ‘weird guy that looked just like me’ but that was all they said. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”

You wondered why he would be concerned about people getting hurt in regards to his brother, but you didn’t want to pry.

“How’s your ankle?”

“It’s sore, but I can walk on it. Serves me right for running around barefoot.”

He smiled and it warmed your soul. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah! I just made coffee. You should have some. You look like shit.”

He ran his fingers through his windblown hair. “I can’t look that bad.”

“You do. And you’re stinky.”

“What are you gonna do? Give me a bath?”

“I might.”

You led him inside and had him sit at your kitchen table. You poured him a cup of coffee and beamed while he took a sip and burned his tongue.

“You’re so mean to me,” he whined.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Do you have any more of those peaches?”

“I have one left.”

He gazed at you, eyes sparkling. He was like a cheerful vampire glamoring you. You grabbed him a peach and handed it to him. He held it and looked down lovingly at it, like it was a newborn baby.

“How long will you be staying?” you asked, expecting him to give you a short time frame. One that would be wholly unsatisfying.

He looked up from his peach. “Indefinitely assuming you can keep giving me these.”

“I think I can manage that.”

#vash the stampede x reader #millions knives x reader #nai x reader #vash x reader #trigun smut #trigun x reader #vash the stampede smut #millions knives smut #.fics #.trigun #.vash #.knives #reader insert #x reader

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cyavillaarts · 30 days

Text

X-Men: Blue Strike Force

Cyclops - Wolverine - Psylocke - Rogue - Gambit - Beast - Jubilee

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stuckysdumbbitch · 2 years

Text

a good man

summary: Steve Rogers will make sure your image is impeccable, whatever it takes

Pairings: Dark!40s!Steve Rogers x naive! Barnes! reader

Warnings: 18+ content, noncon, loss of virginity, rough smut, dark themes, slight blood play, degradation, forced marriage, mean! Steve

the bitch is back!

After your brother died, Captain Steve Rogers promised your Ma he would take care of you. After all, your father had died when you were young and your Ma’s health was quickly deteriorating. On a cold winter day, her heart couldn't take it anymore, and she made Steve promise he’ll marry you to a good man and keep you in line. Steve, who had grown fond of Winnifred after Sarah’s death and loved her as a mother, said he would do everything to ensure her death wish. So he took you out to every high class party to celebrate the end of war, presented you to all his high-rank officers and bought you the nicest dresses in town, along with a house of your own.

Your little poor girl heart grew infatuated with the gifts and lavish things, building the courage to ask for more and more over time, but always sweet and grateful. You barely noticed how Steve’s gaze darkened after you turned, mind imagining for too long how you'd look with the lingerie that you had shyly asked for, hiding the satin in your clenched hands before grinning devilishly and running to the dressing room when he agreed. Or how he would shadow over you as any man actually tried to make a move on you, scaring them off at the slightest chance.

He didn't understand why he made his life harder, as he had promised to marry you off. But none of those men deserved you, they were either going to be too rough or too forgiving. God help the terrified look on your face when a man was trying to impress him, talking about the discipline he’d enforce on his future wife. But he also couldn't get you a permissive husband, as he knew the mischief inside of you. The lustful and flirty side that was too naive to men’s evilness.

Steve believed that he needed to find someone like himself, hard but loving. He would spank your ass raw if you misbehaved, but hug you and kiss you afterwards, telling you how much of a good girl you were for enduring your punishment. He found himself dreaming about it much more than he’d like to. And sometimes, when he tossed and turned late at night, he found himself dreaming of how you'd look wriggling beneath him, face flushed and eyes slanted as your mouth parted in a perfect “O” shape. Sometimes, tears ran down your eyes and your breathing was desperate, and you were gently begging for him to get away. He liked the intrusive thoughts more.

So in a particular New Year's Eve party, he was drowned in a monotonous conversation with Peggy’s parents, who kept hinting at their expected marriage proposal. Steve liked Peggy, she was intelligent and beautiful, but she would never be tamed into the daily life of a housewife. But he had to smile and nod, for America’s golden boy couldn't be rude.

Little did he notice how you preened and blushed under Howard Stark’s comments, his mouth dangerously close as he whispered in your ear -which he claimed was because of the loud noise- about how fun it would be to spend New years somewhere else, because he “hated crowds”. Your empathetic soul was quick to feel sorrow for him, and before eleven o’clock, you were heading to your residence in a preppy Brooklyn neighborhood, right next to Steve’s.

When the clock was about to strike 12 Steve began to search for you, in order to give you a big hug where he would be able to hold you tightly against himself. But as the crowd gathered in front of the clock, he realized he couldn't find you, Howard Stark or his car. He cursed all the way, icy blues stuck to the road as his knuckles turned white from his grip on the steering wheel as the parties started to dwindle down.

You were dancing in your living room down to your undergarments with the brightest mind of the century. A whole bottle of some unknown liquid laid on the floor as he ran his hands dangerously close to your rear, sloppy kisses interchanged. You almost peed yourself when the door slammed open, the huge form of your older brother's best friend storming in in a maddened haste. His usually gelled back and controlled hair messy as he peeled back your frame from Howard’s, slapping you to the floor hard enough to sober you up in fear. He then turned to Howard in scary calmness.

“I'll resolve this matter with you afterwards, now leave.” He ordered, and the scientist obeyed, head low from pity or regret, you wouldn't know. You were too scared to actually say anything. The moment the front door closed, Steve was marching towards you. His strong hands pulled you up in a death grip. This wasn't sweet ol’ Stevie that bought you everything your heart wished for and was slightly creepy sometimes.

“Do you have any idea of what you had just done?” He barked and you trembled, tears forming in your eyes, but pride still stuck on your throat like a ball. He looked at you in disbelief, how could his sweet girl act so slutty? “Not even whores invite men into their houses-not to mention that this house isn't even yours- and dance around naked!”

He attempted to pull your bra to emphasize his point, but with his new superstrength, he ended up ‘accidentally’ ripping it. He stopped for a second, as if to think what could happen now. And you laid there, eyes as big as weeping saucers and hands shaking as your lips trembled. In a fast motion, Steve threw you over his shoulder. You heard the clicking of his belt coming undone, the thick brown leather coming to view as you whimpered in fear.

He didn't say a word until you reached the bedroom, where he tossed you face down on the mattress, one hand firmly planting your head on the bed. He somewhat regretted that, as he would have preferred to see your gorgeous face.

“Everyone tomorrow will see you as a floozy, are you proud of that?” He asked, but you were too ashamed to answer. After seconds of silence, you felt the flames of hell lick the skin of your backside and a fast, snapping side. You cried out in pain. “Promised your Ma I’d take care of you, spoiled you too much, and this is how you decide to pay me?”

You whined in pain, but did not dare to answer him. Another hit was whipped, on top of the previous one, and you dug your nails on the sheets.

“WIll have to marry you to the first oblivious man that comes across for you to still have some fucking honor, is that what you wanted?” He grunted, fisting your hair and pulling up your face to see your tears. “How many men have you fucked in this house, you easy whore?”

“None!” You choked out, and even though he knew it was true, he still was getting aroused from the whole ordeal. He felt his pants stiffen around him, and noticed how your panties began sticking to the skin of your wet, needy petals. His hand ran through the red skin, sighing deeply as he allowed himself to emerge in his deepest desires. After all, people had seen him drink all night.

In a swift movement, he pulled down the white satin underwear, exposing your impeccable, virgin cunt. It drooled as Steve admired it. You gulped, unaware of his intentions.

“Stevie? please, I’m sorry, it will never happen again…” you whispered, just loud enough so he could hear. You felt uneasy as your legs quivered and you began to tremble.

“Of course it wont,” He said, awfully calm, fingers running down your slit. “Because imma gets you a good husband that knows how to keep his little harlot in line.”

His fingers were shoved inside you, tearing through your hymen and with that, any hope of finding a decent husband was gone. You weeped, pain and frustration coursing through your body wildly. His ministrations started in a halt, moving his fingers in and out quickly and painfully, stretching you open. He chuckled at your tears, knowing that most of them were not simply because of the ache in your cunt.

“Don't worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you.” He muttered, observing how his fingers scissored your bloody core. “Gonna treat you real nice baby, give you a big fat wedding ring, I know how you like expensive things.”

Your tearful eyes widened as you understood what he meant. You didn't want to believe it. “S-Stevie?” you croaked up, between violent intrusion. “Please, please stop!”

He stopped, removing his fingers from your cavity and smearing it on your thigh. He took a good look at your folds, puffy and pink in contrast with the specs of dark red painting it. His hands splayed your cheeks open, seeing the inviting canal that pulsated with every breath you took. Something inside him took over as you shivered, from both cold and fear.

In his knees, he neared you, pulling down his zipper as his hand delved to fist his bulging cock. Before anything, he turned you around so you laid flat on your back. You saw how the fabric of his shirt wrapped around his muscles, the wild glare in his eyes as you finally saw his imposing manhood, you sobbed as you realized this isn't your Stevie who would spoil you rotten at your whims. He was an angry supersoldier.

“Please, I’m so sorry Stevie, it won't ever happen again…” You begged one last time, but he only grasped your waist and pulled you closer, lining up his cock with your hole. “No!”

Your little scream did little to stop him, as he pushed his cock inside carefully, he wanted you to feel every ridge, every vein and every bump as he deflowered you. Your soft hands shot up to his immense shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you whined from the intrusion. It burned; he let you taste the fires of the hell he was condemning you to.

He softened when he saw your face, but he had to punish you. He began moving just before you were ready, making you gasp and moan as he delivered merciless hits to your cervix. You had never felt so full, Steve’s digit wrapping around your waist tightly as he observed how your tiny cunt enveloped his cock to perfection, a bulge forming just beneath your stomach from the curve of his manhood.

“My little nymph,” He groaned, pressing you against himself until his hip bones were engraved in the back of your thighs. He wrapped your flailing legs around his narrow waist as he ripped off his shirt one handed, his dark tie hanging in between the valley of your breasts. The stretch became pleasurable, but it was still overall humiliating.

He forced pleasure on you as his face came down to your chest, wrapping his mouth around your erect nipple as he took both of your wrists in one hand, the other gripping your ass hard. You whined as he handled you how he wished, words no longer falling out. Electricity began piling up in your lower belly, your cunt closing around him tighter and tighter as you unconsciously pulled him closer. Your hips reached up to him, needing more, just a bit more.

Steve understood this tell-tale sign, slipping his hand down the tight space between your bodies to find the engorged bead crowing your folds, right on top of where his dick pierced into you. With a couple of flicks of his wrist, which translated onto jolts of rapture rupturing through your body, spasming on him until you drenched him in your sweet cream. His pants were ruined now, but he couldn't care less.

You began feeling sore, but Steve was no longer pleasing you, he was searching for his own release. He forced your head down to see the union, how his cock disappeared into your channel, coming out red and white. Your body was just a stupid little outlet for all of his war frustrations, where he could channel all of those intrusive thoughs and desires. But he couldn't spoil you, not yet.

Just before he exploded, he pulled out from inside, leaving you clenching around nothing. He kneeled closer to you, hand wrapping around your head and pushing his cock down your tight little throat. He let his salty cum flood down your throat, so close you could smell your own essence on his pants. He didn't let go until you choked, pulling back to observe how the corners of your lips were stained with your own virgin blood.

Steve allowed you to lay back, now sobbing. Everything ached, and your mind wondered what was going to happen next. You were terrified of the monster in front of you. He calmly grabbed a small velvet box from his jacket, the one he was going to give Peggy. When you saw this, you began to cry harder, head shaking violently as your sore throat mumbled out “no’s”. He took the sizely diamond, grabbing your wrist hastily to secure the ring on your finger.

“You will marry a good man, want it or not.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!40s!steve rogers #dark 40s steve rogers #40s!steve rogers #40s steve rogers x reader #mcu #fanfiction #dark!fic

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kiame-sama · 1 year

Text

Twin Eclipses- (Yandere!Illumi x Reader)

Warnings; yandere, mention of abuse, coercion, threats, mention of being threatened, unfair situations, female bodied reader, mention of past noncon, mention of birthing troubles,

You stood on your porch, watching your rambunctious pair of little ones run and play. It was tough being a single mom and having twins- tougher than anyone can imagine- but you loved your kids and all their wonderful quirks.

The village you currently lived in was tucked away in the mountain side and thankfully there were plenty of retired elderly folk who just adored your sons. The extra hands to help care for your boys made your life somewhat easier, allowing you to have much more freedom than you would have otherwise. You were content where you lived and you were thankful for the people who lived around you.

The two were both boys; born about 12 hours apart from one another. They were a unique pair in both personality and temper.

From their births you knew they would be special, the very celestial bodies oddly timed to the both of them. A solar eclipse occured when your first son was born, his white hair turning black and blue eyes burning a red-orange. Twelve hours later a lunar eclipse occured when your second son was born, much like his older brother going from white and blue to black and red-orange. When their individual eclipses faded, their hair and eyes returned to how they were prior as you realized both of your boys used nen moments out of the womb.

The story of your life? Well, that one was more than a little rough, and you truly wanted to forget what happened and why you had to come to this village in the first place. At least you escaped your personal hell and managed to leave before anyone caught wind of your pregnancy. It was difficult to do so due to your mangled ankle, but you had still managed despite your struggles.

As you watched your pair play, you did your best to keep the dark thoughts out of your mind and just live in the moment. You still jumped when shadows fell over you and any sudden noise made fear strike into your heart, but it seemed they would actually allow you and your boys to live freely. Returning would mean imprisonment and your boys would be taken from you, so for now you were content to hide even if you were so close to danger.

Shadows played at the edge of your vision and you caught yourself glancing around every now and again just in case your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. So when you caught a flash of white from your left side among the trees, you felt almost frantic.

"Boys! It's time to come in!"

Despite the unison whine of disappointment, your two five year olds both shuffled inside, neither taking note of your increased panic. But of course, life wasn't going to pull any punches for you. Before you could enter your home, a man that was all too familiar emerged from the trees.

His white hair and piercing blue eyes pinned you to the spot as three others emerged as well. Nothing could stop your heart from flying into a panic as you observed the four men who now silently watched you. Some level of relief filled your mind when you didn't see him join the group, but his absence only slightly lessened your fear.

There certainly would be no running, because you already knew they would easily catch you and your sons would never be able to keep up. That left you two options to choose from, first; stay where you were and allow the men to approach, or second; go to them.

A rather strong part of you argued against approaching the dangerous men, but you approaching kept your sons farther away from harm. The choice was clear, even if you didn't like it.

Closing your door, you mentally psyched yourself up for what you feared would happen, forcing your legs to begin moving. You could feel the eyes of the four men trained on you with predatory precision as you approached, only heightening your stress as you limped towards the group. When you came within ten feet of them you finally stopped, staring at each man in turn.

"(Y/n), it certainly has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it certainly has been, sir."

"Come now, there's no need for such formality. After all, you don't work for us anymore."

"Force of habit, sir."

The first to greet you was an old and familiar face, his eyes wrinkled at the corners and his stature was quite small in comparison to his associates. You knew the man well as you had primarily worked under his command when you worked for the family.

What family, you may ask?

Why, the Zoldyck family, of course.

Maha, the eldest of the family, had been the one you worked with the most out of the rest of the family members and so, he was the one who you were most familiar with. Standing among him were his grandson Zeno, his great-grandson Silva, and your father, Gotoh. Where you would have been thrilled to see your father after so long, the reunion was bitter due to the rather unfortunate circumstances that led to you fleeing the house of Zoldyck.

"I take it you found my message?"

"Yes. Quite the clever hiding place, he would have never thought to look there."

"Does... Does he know about... Them? About me?"

"No. Illumi has not been informed and has been kept out of the loop, so to speak."

"Then why are you here?"

Dread was weighing heavily in your heart and your more accusatory words only served to deepen that dread, not at all feeling the confidence your voice held. You knew what they were capable of and you didn't want to give them a reason to be upset with you, but what choice did you have? It wasn't only you at risk now.

"I believe you already know the answer to that. Your boys, both having white hair and blue eyes, they are clearly of the Zoldyck bloodline. With Killua away from the family and having no interest in returning, the family is put at jeopardy without a potential heir to the mantle that is head of the family."

Your heart thudded with a hollow feeling in your chest, fear flooding your veins. You knew there was a possibility of them coming for your sons, but you had always hoped they would just let you and your family be. Of course they would be interested in your boys, they did hold a clear familial resemblance after all.

Despite knowing that begging would do nothing to sway them, you couldn't help the pleading tone your voice took.

"Please... They're just boys. They don't know anything about their heritage. Please don't take them from me."

"(Y/n), I know it was not your choice to have them in the first place but you must understand, the future of the family comes first."

"They aren't members of the family. They're bastards."

"A bastard is still family by blood. Even you can't deny the similarities. They are Zoldycks, the both of them. Their Nen alone proves their familial ties."

There was little more that you wanted to do other than run, taking your boys with you, even if you knew you wouldn't get very far. You had hoped that because your sons were bastards, the rest of the family wouldn't be interested in them, but clearly that was just wishful thinking.

"Please.. You- you just don't understand why I can't hand them over."

"I do understand, child. They are your sons as much as they are Illumi's and you care for them greatly."

"That's not all..."

"What is it then?"

"Illumi will kill them."

A silence fell over the clearing as Maha's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, clearly not expecting your words. It was then Silva spoke up, his deep voice sending terror straight down your spine.

"Illumi wouldn't lay a hand on them. He doesn't harm family."

You surprised even yourself with the humorless and dry bark of a laugh that escaped you, the fragile illusion of confidence quickly dissolving around you. Memories of those cold doll-like eyes flashed through your mind, each horrible thing done to you replaying in your head. His low hissed threats ringing in your ears and turning your blood to ice.

"Yes. Yes he will. I didn't get injured due to some freak accident like he forced me to claim... He..." You slowly pulled your lame ankle towards your other leg, "he did this to me. He said it was so I couldn't run from him anymore. He knew what he was doing to me was wrong but he didn't care. Every day, he threatened to kill any child I may have if I ever tried to run. You know as well as I that Illumi doesn't just casually threaten unless he intends to follow through. I ran, he will kill them, that's why I took such extreme measures to ensure he wouldn't find that letter."

You looked over your shoulder towards your home, two pairs of eyes glimmering from the windows. There's no way your boys could even know the danger that was before them or the fact that the four strange men who had arrived at their home were members of their family. You hadn't spoken much to your boys about their family and you honestly dreaded the conversation you would one day have to have with them.

"He can't harm them if he can't get to them."

"What do you mean?"

You looked back at the second oldest Zoldyck, Zeno, as he closed his eyes in contemplation.

"If they are protected by the family, he can't hurt them, not without extreme consequences."

"Yeah, but he's welcome to hurt me as much as he wants."

Your words held a certain level of venom to them, thinking back to the hell that was your life for the last year you worked for the family. It was hard to not be bitter, knowing that even if you had spoken up about the abuse you suffered at the hands of Illumi, no one would have believed you. It was hard to ignore evidence of that abuse now though, as there were two new lives that resulted from it.

"Child, you know I would have sided with you had you come to me about it."

"No, you wouldn't have and you damn well know it. The family comes first, right? What's the word of some expendable worker when put up against any member of the family? No one cared. Countless others heard and even saw what he did to me, no one said a word."

Maha stood in silence at your harsh reply and you already knew you were right. You didn't have to call him on his bluff to know you were right.

"You are their mother, and they clearly love you," Maha nodded towards the window of curious eyes, "so you would be protected as well."

"Someone should tell that to Illumi."

"He won't be able to get to you-"

"Oh, like he wasn't supposed to be able to rape me? Not like it happened every day- oh, wait. It did. Every day I screamed and begged for mercy, every day he told me no one cared and that I was as useful and expendable as any other fuck-toy."

"(Y/n)-"

"No. I was in labor for too long to say I didn't suffer in agonizing loneliness for the sake of my family. I gave birth to the both of them while I was alone in a freezing cabin before anyone came to help me. I cut both umbilical cords myself. I almost died because I was too exhausted and weak by the time the second one arrived to feed them before the neighbors decided to check on me. The elderly folk in this village are more family to them than any of you. I raised them to be better than the monsters you call children. You want another heir? Make one yourself! Leave my sons and I out of your robotic murderous clan!"

You were surprised at the way you actually snapped at the assassins, your pain and anger far outweighing your fear of the men. Honestly, you'd sooner die fighting than let them take a single child from you. They seemed to realize you were not in the mood or place to agree to anything, let alone give up your sons for them to train as killers.

They were smart, and they knew eventually you would be unable to keep going as you had been and would truly need them, especially with the way your ankle had been mangled. To some degree, they understood your anger and sympathized with what you went through. Though you had not been married into the family, you were still one of the most trusted of their workers and now you were the mother of the next generation. You are family.

Maha and Silva were both particularly fond of you when you worked for them, Silva even telling you how much he trusted you with his family. You practically served them your entire life before you ran, and they had failed to see what was being done to you. But, there was no doubt they truly respected you after all you went through and all you did to protect your sons despite the great toll it took on you physically and mentally.

Your now mostly silver hair was a testament to how much you had sacrificed for your children and how great the toll had been. Though your face was still youthful, the darkness around your eyes told of hardship and endless sleepless nights. They would have to tread carefully while deciding what course of action they were going to take. On top of all of that, they also needed to ensure your safety and the safety of your sons especially regarding Illumi.

It truly seemed to be out of character for him to threaten his own progeny or a member of his family. Then again, so were the deplorable actions that Illumi chose whenever he caught you alone.

The proof was there with your hidden letter, clips from security cameras in the estate, all time-stamped and compiled. Literal days worth of footage showed the depraved actions of the eldest Zoldyck son towards you. When you collected all of it, you even debated throwing it all out to save what tiny shred of dignity you clung to, but you needed the truth to be known.

Hiding the envelope and its contents so Maha would find it but Illumi would not was no easy feat to accomplish. If you were caught there would be no escape for you or the life that had already begun to grow inside of you. You left the first chance you got, but ensured to hop places several times before settling in a village on the far side of the same mountain range as the estate. The hope was that Illumi would dismiss any nearby area after his initial search, making it a safe-zone between where he searched and where he lived.

You chose to be close to danger because Illumi expected you to want to run as far as possible.

Just as the men had appeared, three of them practically vanished with hardly a trace. Only Gotoh stayed for a moment longer, his eyes full of sorrow and regret now that he finally knew your reasoning after you disappeared. He must not have been told the full story or shown the collected videos- not that he would want to see them anyway- and they must have decided that learning your fate would hurt less coming from you. Ever the emotional stone walls, not even family matters seemed to bother or surprise the Zoldycks, but you and your father were far more human.

In the end, he could find no words that would not add to the embarrassment, stress, or sorrow you had to live with. What could he say? He was so relieved to hear you were alive and relatively well, having given up hope a year after your disappearance. But to have the first meeting after so long be colored by his worst nightmares come true.

It was bitter-sweet, and you knew there were so many things that should have been said, but neither of you could voice them. He followed his masters, ever the faithful servant, away from your home and your sons. You knew it wasn't going to be your last time seeing them, you knew how they worked and how persistent they could be. They would need to back off and reassess the situation they now had on their hands.

This left you standing alone, trying to figure out what you could do to explain these events to your sons. You wouldn't put it past the Zoldycks to try and kidnap your boys, so you knew you needed to warn them to not trust anyone approaching them. Though it would be difficult for you and your two sons, it still needed to be done and you needed to keep your little family safe however you could. Even the feeling of being watched did little to deter you from returning to your boys who awaited you inside.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #hxh yandere #yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #tw mention of violence #tw mention of abuse #tw pregnancy

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surferblues · 2 years

Text

the cat and the mouth ! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

part one . . . !

costar! austin butler x fem! reader

warnings smut, reader is an actress , needy austin, p in v, slight praise, no established relationship, bathroom sex, and obviously sexual themes.

prompt " i shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you. "

Sexual tension was something that constantly lingered between you two, and you both were aware of it. The lustful eye contact, the not so innocent teasing that would leave you both with crimson shaded cheeks, and the longing wishes of hoping a one of you would strike and take action towards your sinful urges.

You liked the tension, the wait, the need for him. You considered it a continuous game of cat and mouse, a game you felt like would never end.

But, one thing you hated was attending the parties that you were practically forced to come to because of your role as Priscilla. They were all the same, full of people you didn't know or parties that died down an hour in.

You had swallowed down your fifth alcoholic drink that had more sugar than anything, but, you had to find a way to enjoy the lifeless party. You had been seated at the mini bar ever since you arrived at the after party, chatting up a few men that you had no interest in and just observing the drunken party goers that had been wandering around and dancing carelessly.

"Just a whiskey on the rocks." You ears peeked up at the familiar, husky voice that you knew all too well. Your curious eyes turned towards the source, landing on the tall blonde boy, who had been wearing a black suit that fit him ever so perfectly.

“This seat taken?” Austin's voice pulled you out of your trance, his finger pointed towards the empty barstool placed right next to you. “No, not at all.” You shook your head, flashing a tight-lipped smile as he took place right next to you.

"I would've never took you for a bloody mary type." Austin husked out, pointing out the drink that head been halfway drunken infront of you. "Me either, just ordered it to make this party somewhat more amusing." You shrugged, raising your dark brows before scoffing playfully as you lifted your eyes back to meet his.

"And how's that working out for you?" he questioned, his brows quirked up as he waited for a response to slip from your lips. his hand went towards the whiskey that he had ordered moments ago.

"oh, just great, having the time of my life." you chuckled, shaking your head with a playful smile as you let out a sarcastic response. "life could never be better." he nodded in sarcastic understanding, he went along with your words, finding amusement at how you covered your bore by using humor.

"im sure there's been a few guys coming over here, trying to talk you up though?" Austin lifted up his drink, his lips connecting with the glass. He assumed so... assuredly, as if his assumption was something he was so sure of.

"I haven't given any of them a chance to stick around." you foretold, dangerously murmuring your words as you grabbed the straw from your alcoholic drink and puckered your lips around it.

"oh, am i the first guy you're letting stick around long enough?" he poked his tounge on the left side of his cheek, slightly twirling the barstool to be in your direction.

"Depends, is there something you needed, Mr.Butler?" You questioned, slowly speaking as you kept your eyes on his. You knew what you were doing, starting up the endless game you two have been going at for months.

"i... " he hesitated for a spilt moment, turning his eyes away from yours as he took a deep breath. "would you like to go somewhere a little more private?" Austin asked in dangerously low tone, he quickly shrugged off his hesitation , lifting his blue eyes towards you. You could read him like a open book. The lustful eye contact, the not so innocent teasing.

"Alone?" You smiled, playing oblivious, smirking to hide the crimson red that threatened to spill on your cheeks. "You know what I mean, darlin, let's not mess around."

"I can't help it, you're fun to mess with." You gracefully moved your hand from the glass cup you had been sipping fron moments ago. " Baby, don't make me spell it out for you... you know i want you."

You two looked like animals - teeth clashing, needy bodies colliding, hands roaming every vulnerable spot of one another's body. You move in sync and the arousal in your panties only escalates, burning your entire body. his hands make their way around your hips, pressing into the bone as he steadies your body against the door.

His clothed knee between your thigh, your hips jutting for friction against your heating folds. "as much as i wanna explore your mouth, i think you need attention somewhere else." his breath fanned over your ear as he leaned his head against the bathroom door that your body had been leaning against.

his hand removed from your waist, slowly trailing down towards your hips... then the end of your little black dress... and the wet lace that had been collecting every drop of your nectar his dangerous words had squeezed out of you.

"is this okay?" Austin drops the cocky demeanor and looks towards you with a caring gaze, his fingers still fiddling with the lace protecting your needy cunt. you nod, lip still stuck in between your teeth. you watch as he slips your underwear right down your knees.

"Austin..." you sigh out, his name coming off as a plea. You wanted him, more than anything.

“stay still, so pretty like this.” he assures incoherently, he takes his hands off of you and instead turns the focus to himself. Unzipping his pants ever so gracefully, revealing his dick that had been poking through his thin boxers.

Your breathed hitch at the sight, precum peeking out through the thin covering. "Do you trust me?" Austin asks, placing kisses all over your shoulder blades. You threw your head back, growling, "Fuck, If i didn't i wouldn't be waiting for you to fuck me."

"that'ta girl." he smirked confidently as he hiked your dress up to your hips, preparing to invade your body with ease. His fingers turned back in the direction of your hips, holding you in place as you felt his tip travel. the precum soaking your swollen button, causing you to throw your head back in nothing but pure pleasure.

"that feel good, yeah?" he nodded his tip swirling around your clit, not long before he moved it again. his tip now traveling, a long stripe gliding down towards your hole.

finally, the game of cat and mouse was over.

#austin butler imagine #austin!elvis smut #elvis presley x reader #austin butler smut #elvis presley imagine #austin!elvis #elvis smut #austinbutleredit #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin!elvis x reader #elvis presley smut #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis movie #carrie diaries

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 5 months

Text

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 9

Fallen | Loki x Reader

Your captors attempt to break you and Loki keeps up his searching. With the help of the Avengers, can he finally rescue you?

Warnings: 18+, reader is imprisoned - lack of food, talk of being hungry/hunger strike, psychological torture, angsty, very angry Loki.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

“Change your clothes back you insolent little welp”

You refused to change, hugging the forest green cloak tighter, staring into the fire. The more he tried to control you the more the leaden ball of hatred grew inside. Every day your clothes were laid out for you, restrictive and traditional, cloying and controlling. And every day you changed the colours to match the man you missed. The insipid colours chosen for you gave way to the blue grey of his eyes. Brown became rich jet black. And the silver of your sigil became lustrous gold.

“I’ve told you before about your behaviour. How can I make you a bride when you remain so headstrong? If you refuse to control your magic it will be removed from you.”

You had been caught again, playing with the mortals. Sneaking away from your guards. Drinking at parties, making flowers dance for pretty ladies, listening to the poetry of the gentlemen as it fell from their lips, their fingertips. Making love appear between them, making love to them.

To his credit, he was no liar. Come the morning your magic couldn’t even fizzle. Your clothes remained the same huge petticoats, the colours and sigils a perfect match for your families.

And Loki had vanished from your memories.

Somehow the memory of that day was clear, but then the next thing you could remember was the flat in London. Your Grandad, who you had genuinely loved and believed in. The warm memory of watching TV together and reading books. Grandad had always been kind, unlike the shadow of the men in your memories, he liked your jokes and you enjoyed the way he could do card tricks, often at the most surprising of times. And now he was gone too and the worst pain of all was that he was never truly real. The only family you could remember and he’d been another trick.

Tears tracked down your face silently, cutting through the dust that settled there from your filthy surroundings. Perhaps he wasn’t truly your grandfather, but he’d spent so many years at your side. Hadn’t he comforted you when you were sad, didn’t he laugh along with your jokes, he took care of you when you were sick and, though neither of you left the flat for long, he’d imagined a better life with you as well.

Perhaps he’d been told to do those things, perhaps it was a glamour or a trick of some sort, but his hand in yours, squeezing it tight as he said his final goodbyes, that was real. The indents of wrinkles on his papery skin, the feel of his pulse slowing under his wrist, it was all real. And that’s what you held in the dark on the night, when the days rolled past and Loki didn’t come, you had been loved before. You had loved Loki on Asgard and your grandfather had loved you in that little flat.

Love would come for you again.

When the sun rose you rose too, forcing yourself to leave your melancholy tucked between the thin blanket and the mattress of your bed. Instead, you paced the small room looking for a foothold to see out of the window that sat high in the wall. This morning your attempt was aided by a stool, left by a guard the night before. It wobbled terribly on the flagged floor, but it gave you enough height that you could reach across the rough rock, beneath your fingers you felt a small snag in the wall and dug your nails in, creating a hand hold.

Pushing yourself higher using the very edge of the bed frame your feet left the stool and you heaved yourself forwards and reached for the sill of the window, pulling yourself into the alcove it created.

Crisp air blew in your face, salty from the sea that stretched before you and fresh from the grass that curled behind.

Outside the waves crashed against a towering rock face and you wondered if you were very far from your first prison. Hopefully moving you between locations was enough to draw the attention of your Prince, but just in case you ripped a length of fabric from your dress and tied it to the bars of the window, pushing the rest of it out to dangle and blow in the whipping wind. Judging by the long grass that grew around the base of the tower, there were very few people visiting the area, perhaps something as off as a fluttering in a normally empty window would be enough to grant you some means of escape.

Slowly you climbed down, catching your feet on the hem of your dress.

Your new outfit felt completely ridiculous. Gone were your sensible jeans and warm sweater, replaced with a balloon of chiffon petticoats and floral silks. Deep in your memory you knew that this was how you’d been dressed after you were removed from Asgard, the heavy skirts keeping you slow so you couldn’t run, the restrictive sleeves reducing your ability to wield magic as Frigga had taught you.

At least in the flat you’d been allowed to choose your own clothes, at the compound Natasha and Wanda had ordered you leggings and sweatpants. Even the silken dresses and stylish, magazine inspired clothes you’d conjured with Loki had been more practical and comfortable. It seemed an impossible task to escape when you were dressed like a toy doll.

“You can’t escape,” a voice spoke from a dark corner of the room. His magic, pale yellow, swirled around him and yanked you back from the window and onto the thin mattress with a thump. The voice vanished back into the darkness, replaced with the shimmering vision of another, surrounded by a yellow yellow.

Loki.

The image stalked across the room, his face full of malice and a sinister smile curling at the corner of his lips. It was a vision of him you’d seen before, on the television news during the invasion of New York, but then he’d been under the influence of Thanos, controlled and tortured, desperate for escape. He’d told you all about it while you were still at the compound, a hushed conversation bourne of a late night spent on his balcony drinking mead and staring into the inky darkness. You’d taken his hand then and held it, allowing your warmth to sink into his chilly skin, and he’d rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

This Loki was a different man, the God you knew would never dream of approaching you like this, with hatred and venom. He’d looked at you many ways, with intrigue and interest, as if you were amusing and entertaining, with lust and passion, before he lavished you with his pleasure, and, dare you think it, he’d looked at you with something akin to love.

No, your Loki would never look at you like this.

“Disgusting, fallen Goddess. Who could ever care for you?” He spat as you cowed back, the metal bed frame digging into your back, cold and unyielding. “Fit for nothing. We rejoiced when you left Asgard, you brought shame on my family. How will your own ever find a match for you when you display such depraved and wanton behaviour?”

The false Loki sneered again, eyeing you as if you were nothing.

You wanted to reach for him and brush the anger from his brow with your lips, to sate whatever force was controlling him and bring him back as the bright eyed and mischievous God you knew. But this was not your Loki, your Loki never judged you for your escapades. He only teased, tangling your fingers together to help you clarify your memories, sharing in the joy of them and encouraging you in your whims.

“Nothing to say for yourself, snivelling child?” You rubbed your face with your palms and made to stand, rising on the broken mattress instead of the stone floor, hoping that the height would give you some sense of control.

“You aren’t real, you can’t hurt me.” The words came out as a sob and you hurled the single pillow at him, expecting it to bounce through the vision as you’d seen happen with Loki and Thor while they fought and trained. But it hit his chest and fell to the floor with a sad thump. The Loki’s eyes followed it and then snapped back to you, and his grin made your skin crawl, your blood curdle.

“Loki?!”

He approached.

Your back met the wall as you tried to escape from the solid vision, cornering you.

“You truly are an idiot. These powers of yours have corrupted your mind, your senses. You can’t be trusted with them.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. Leave me alone!”

But the vision continued, berating you for your misdemeanours, recalling every stupid deed, every unkind word spoken, but this Loki knew so little. Like your own memories, the stories cut in and out from Asgard to London to the compound, there was so much missing in between. For a while you could use this knowledge to fight back, to ignore the most cutting remarks and stand your ground when your anger boiled hot enough.

But after a day, or two, your voice became hoarse, your mind reeling and pained, and your body weakened by lack of sustenance. And all the while, behind the cruel Loki, your guard sat, a wicked grin tightening his features.

After a week the lonely, stinging tears continued into the night, soaking your pillow as Loki’s voice haunted you, though the spectre of him had long since retired to whatever place it was these guards seem to spring from. Alone you clutched your pillow and thought of Loki, of the echo of home you’d built together in his rooms in the compound, the way his scent rose to meet you as he held you, cocooning you in the comforting richness of his presence. The way his arms held you back, solid and strong, his palms splayed on your back.

You clutched to those dreams as tightly, praying for him in the darkness.

During the day you sipped on stale water and nibbled on the dry bread left beside you, a far cry from the food that Loki had made for you. The bread made you heave and the stale water, though it kept you alive, only made the vision of Loki clearer to your eyes. So you stopped trying, allowing the dancing lights of your thirst to blur the image before you and the pounding of your headache to obfuscate his words.

In your dreams hands swarmed towards you, unforgiving and rough, the cruel whispers following you into the unconscious depths of your mind. And though you tried to tell yourself it was all a dream, your body ached when you woke, bruises littering your weakened body.

Every morning, when the twisted vision of Loki appeared, you returned to the Loki that you kept locked inside of your heart, falling back into your memories of him. Your Loki whispered praises to combat the poison poured into your ear, your Loki held you close when you were cold and scared. Your Loki - you drifted out of consciousness again, hungry and thirsty and tired.

Staring at the odd angles of the false Loki’s face. The pale imitation before you could never hold his face correctly, the subtle change to the rise and fall of his eyebrow, the twitch of a lip, you could read it all on your Loki. And nothing on this one.

Occasionally your energy peaked and, when the fight returned to you, you tried to irritate this fake and his handler as much as possible. You sang pop songs, told terrible jokes. Anything to keep the flame of your spirit flickering and alive. Deep inside you felt Loki’s magic calling back to yours, and it was on these days that you were the strongest, tethered to his sedir and allowing your own to reverberate down whatever bond had formed between you.

Your magic, bottled inside, continued to fizz, building on the already blinding headache that seemed to be permanent now.

And then it changed.

You kept picking away at the edges of the wards, kept pushing your magic forwards, trying to connect, trying to open the door. A little at a time you managed to let your magic creep through the gaps and you imagined it blowing into the wind like smoke, dispersed and invisible but still there, travelling into the distance, calling for help.

It started with a single flower, blooming rapidly as you watched it grow between the cracks of the wide rocks, it’s soft petals nudging the tip of your finger. You moved your hand away, and it followed, the spindly stem curling into the support of the mortar and then releasing it’s bud in a flourish of purple petals.

With a gasp you cupped your hand over it, turning your back to your eternal tormentor, and kissed the tiny flower, squeezing your eyes closed to stop from crying out with joy. There was something there, some magic, some feeling, that was still strong.

When your food tray was dumped on the floor you quickly took your glass, dipping a single finger into the water and collecting a droplet on the end of your nail. The water surrounded the flower as it fell, drenching the minute leaves, and then it bristled, as if shivering from the cold, and dipped its head back towards you.

You went to bed that night with a smile, but between dusk and midnight, the nightmares returned. Loki was always in official Asgardian leather, metal, gold. Sometimes he had a staff that he beat against the ground to wake you up and then keep you awake. So you clung to your reality of casual butter soft cotton shirts, dark jeans, the slippers he kept in his apartment and swore you to secrecy over, the brush of his fingers in yours, the way he held you, the way he touched your shoulder when he handed you a coffee over breakfast.

So when he came, you kept the vision of him in Midgardian clothes at the front of your mind, reminiscing on your time together at the compound and ignoring everything else.

Hands over your face you dredged up another memory. Showing him a tulip you’d grown in a pot overnight.

He had been impressed, you could tell just by the twitch of his mouth. It wasn’t a change in shape or a brief illusion, it was creation, organic creation. He was speechless as you slid the plant pot across the table to him.

“A gift, my Prince,” you had smiled.

Thor laughed, declaring it to be girl magic and you had looked at him, incredulous.

“I am a girl. What do you do, oaf magic?”

Loki had turned away to hide his laugh but had congratulated you as soon as Thor stomped off, huffy and indignant.

The more you focused on a clear vision of him the more Loki could feel the vibrations of your magic.

Somehow they’d picked up your trail, leading out of Norway, to Sweden and then into Denmark. Or, more accurately, Stark had been able to track your kidnappers.

The first set had, as Val worried, been the elderly men that lived in Tønsberg. Eventually they’d been able to trace some tourists who heard them planning the kidnap in the pub on the afternoon that you’d arrived, and a CCTV camera had caught them carrying your limp body down a side street before vanishing from the videos.

They’d been gone for a few days before there was another hit, the pair returning, beaten, bruised and worse for wear. And empty handed.

Valkyrie had them arrested as soon as they crossed the village square, but between their incoherent ramblings the only information the Asgardian’s had been able to glean was that they had been on a journey to the coast.

“It’s not enough,” Loki had raged, the cape of his formal leathers billowing out behind him as he turned to pace back down the length of the Long Hall.

Valkyrie sat in her throne, her head propped on one hand and shrugged, “we’re doing what we can, Loki, but they’re old, ancient, wittering on about Odin and some prophecy or other, what do you want me to do with them?”

“Let me look into their minds.” Loki kept to a stop, his hands on his hips, every bit the god and Prince he was brought up to be. Valkyrie’s council had left the room as soon as he’d strode in and now, alone, the hall was full of tension and unused, bubbling, power.

“There’s nothing in there, they barely remember each other, we look at the coastline.”

Loki glared and where anyone else might have withered under than look, Valkyrie sat taller in her chair. “I mean it, Loki, there’s nothing more to be had from those men. We look to the coast, that’s my final word.”

“Fine.”

Loki strode out, his long legs eating up the length of the hall in a few strides, and then he slammed the door behind him.

Refusing to speak to the Avengers directly, Thor passed information between the village and the compound. Stark had managed to track a trail of unusual energy into Sweden as well, but he failed to share the details with Loki.

Every day Loki felt a deeper pain in his chest, a gnawing feeling that he had seldom felt before. When he described it, Thor confirmed his worries. Hunger, you were hungry, and he was feeling it too. Having spent his whole life in the luxury of the palace, it was a sensation he was accustomed to and it pained him further to think of you that way.

In the night he woke to dreadful dreams, nightmares of his own doing, your screams ringing in his ears soothed only by a whisper of your voice, clinging to him and chanting his name like a prayer. His chest hurt then, too, and tears slid down his cheeks, wetting his hair as he hid his sobs in his pillow.

Capitulating to Stark’s demands was an equally bitter pill that left him feeling hollowed out and cold despite the warm breezes that brushed along the coast. He would work one, single, solitary, mission and only after they had found you and returned you safe and well.

By the time Stark denied to share his information with Loki the God was enraged, pacing like a tiger and snapping at anyone who looked at him wrong. The entire village scattered from him as he approached, Valkyrie’s council scurrying away when he slammed open the rooms of the Long Hall the day the Avengers arrived in Tønsberg.

“Tell me where she is, Stark.” Loki barked, his fighting leathers manifesting as he walked until he was clad from head to toe in leather and metalwork.

“And then you leave? We go together.” Tony didn’t even bother to look up at Loki as he spoke, continuing to press endless effusive buttons on the little device he liked to carry with him.

“I could leave as soon as we find her, what does it matter to you?”

“True. Best not to give you too many chances though.” Tony smirked.

“Stark, desist teasing Loki.” Thor cut in, gripping his brother’s shoulder, “this situation has upset us all, we should focus on the task at hand.” Silhouette by one of the floor length windows that lined the Long Hall Thor looked as if he belonged, strong and surprisingly measured while Loki simmered.

“I’m not teasing, I’m being practical. We all go together.” Tony sighed, placing his device on the table between them. “You can either come quietly and behave, or we take her anyway and don’t tell you.” He shrugged.

“You know that I would do anything, anything, to get her back to me safely.” Loki implored, “have I not agreed to work with you and your team? What more do you require of me?”

Tony stared at the God, both towering in his physicality, yet somehow diminished. He had seen Loki commit atrocious crimes, had seen the reasons why and fought them himself, and had grudgingly accepted a quiet truce. But he had never seen Loki so earnest or cowed, despite the green leather and daggers, he was accepting defeat in the only way he knew how.

“Nothing, Loki, nothing. Let’s get your girl back.” Tony fiddled with the device again, above them there was a roar of engines and through the windows Loki watched as the boats in the harbour wagged dangerously from side to side in the cross waves.

Thor pushed the doors open and allowed Loki to walk through first, revealing the Quinjet hovering above the low lying buildings. “Ready?” Stark asked, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Loki brushed past Tony, shouldering him out of the way, “don’t be absurd, of course I’m ready. And don’t call her ‘girl’.” He turned, his cape swirling behind him, picked up the wind, his hair was briefly wild, and the a golden helmet with two towering horns appeared, brushing each earnt curl backwards until Loki’s face was picked out and protected by the precious metal, “she’s a Goddess.”

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#Loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki/reader #Loki x Reader #Loki fanfic #Loki series #loki marvel #Loki x you #Loki/You #loki fanfiction #Loki smut #The Old Gods and the New #Loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki angst

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ficnation · 1 year

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“Your dad's an asshole” Part 1 - Carl x Reader

Request: “Carl x son of negan. Where they meet when Negan goes to get supplies for the first time from Alexandria and Negan’s son keeps flirting with Carl and Carl gets flustered and acts like he hates it, because y’know son of NEGAN, but eventually they go on a sort of date and kiss? Just fluff with a lil angst? Whatever works for you xoxo”

requested by @thatcucumberwhore

Word count: 2918

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Male! Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g gore, cursing)

A/n: It's a little bit different than the request, but I still hope you'll enjoy it :D There'll also be a second part to this which will focus more on the romantic aspect of Negan's son and Carl's relationship!

☁ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁ || ☁ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁

“Well, hello there,” the greeting that left your father’s lips was anything but friendly. The mere idea of it not being hostile to the people who killed so many of your men blew your mind.

You decided to keep your mouth shut when a glare of a blue-eyed man on the other side of the fence almost outmatched yours in its viciousness. You hopped out of the vehicle, yawning and murmuring something about having enough traveling for the next few weeks. There was nothing you hated more than sitting for hours in a metal can with nothing to do.

“Do not make me have to ask,” your dad said when no one moved to open the gate for him and your people. He shoved his hand deep into his leather jacket’s pocket and tapped his foot on the ground to hurry them up.

The blue-eyed man hesitated for a moment before sliding the gate open, but not without some resistance. “You said a week. You’re early.”

“How about you file a complaint, huh?” the words escaped you before you could catch them, gathering everyone’s attention.

A few of the Saviors whistled in amusement and appreciation. You quickly pulled the hood of your sweatshirt over your head with an unpleased groan and turned your head to the side, suddenly finding the trees on your left very interesting.

You didn’t get a kick out of people’s attention on you as your dad did. It was just one of the many differences between you and him. There were things you were confident in, but speaking up in front of a large group of people or getting applause for something you did just wasn’t it.

Luckily for you, the citizens of Alexandria didn’t dwell long on your words, and their fearful eyes quickly returned to your father. His smug grin already told you that he was proud of you for speaking up. You were his blood, after all.

When the distinctive growling sounded closer and closer, you could almost see the light bulb lighting up above your father’s head.

“Oh, Rick, come on out here.” He licked his lips in anticipation as he raised Lucille above his head and whistled. “Watch this.”

“I’m not a damn dog,” you mumbled under your breath, but obediently grabbed the bat out of your father’s hands, annoyance clearly visible on your face and in your voice.

The undead man stalked towards you with outstretched hands, excited to get a bite of fresh meat. You raised the bat over your head before swinging at the creature with an annoyed groan. The weapon hit it straight in the middle of its head. The barbed wire and force of the strike made a whole bloody mess of its brain. The blood and all the muck splattered over your clothes and the nearby car.

Negan burst into a deep chuckle at the sight. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy! My kid is doing some charity work for you here, Rick. You better remember that,” he said, winking at the man standing by the gate.

You rolled your eyes, handing the bat back to him and wiping the stray red drops off your cheek. Negan proceeded to give a cheeky little speech to the people from Alexandria, throwing a few threats their way and bowing at the end, almost as if he was waiting for applause.

He gave Lucille to Rick with a sly glint in his eyes before he stepped inside ASZ. He knew exactly what effect his actions had on that man. Rick Grimes was furious and afraid, but not for himself, for something far more important to him.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you have in the cupboard.” Negan gestured for you to keep close while he walked further into the town.

“We put aside half of the supplies.”

“No, Rick. No,” your father butted in. He stepped closer to the man threateningly. “You don’t decide what we take. I do. Tell him, boy! Tell him how things here work.” Negan turned towards you with a proud grin.

Of course, he wanted to include you in his weird power plays. He was throwing your existence right in their faces for reasons unknown to you. You thought it’d be safer for you if they didn’t know about you being their enemy’s son, but your father had different plans, like always. It was a shame he didn’t at least give you a heads-up before playing them out.

“It’s always been like that. He’s the boss, he decides what’s his,” you spoke up, shrugging your shoulders. You weren’t going to give them more than that; you weren’t your father.

After that, Arat yelled out for your group to get a move on, and they dispersed, immediately getting themselves busy searching through the houses.

Your father weaved you off to go and explore, maybe help out his men if you were feeling petty. But you knew the rules—the crueler you were, the more things you took, the more Negan’s approval you got. It wasn’t your thing, so you just planned to walk around and check out some of the places there. You were particularly curious about what weapons and how many of them did they have, but you also did not want to participate in the scavenger hunt, so you decided to just let it be.

After not even an hour, you knew you’d seen every interesting place in Alexandria, so you followed one of the random Saviors group searching through the houses. You didn’t take anything from the buildings, just walked around, curiosity peeked by the big suburban homes. The place was nothing like the industrial Sanctuary. It was beautiful and cozy, with the light colors of the furniture brightening the rooms. You could’ve lived in a place like that.

While you were checking out the upstairs of the house, you heard a commotion and an unfamiliar voice downstairs. Without a second thought, you ran down the stairs to find your people being held at gunpoint by a long-haired boy around your age. You looked at him in awe. He looked badass with his bandaged eye and the steady grip on the weapon. He also looked like someone you could get on with. Damn, it was a shame that your groups were on some kind of warpath.

The teenager popped the safety off. “Put some back or the next one goes in you,” he threatened.

“What do you think happens next?” one of the Saviors asked, looking at the boy in amusement while you took that as a sign to pull out your own gun.

“You die,” he replied with so much confidence it was surprising.

“No, you die.” You pointed your gun at his temple, cocking your head, very entertained by the situation. You weren’t sure if the kid had the balls to actually kill your guys over the medicine, but you were curious to find out.

The brown-haired boy slowly turned his head toward you at the sound of the safety clicking. He stared you off with that pretty blue eye of his. For a second, you wondered if he wasn’t this settlement leader’s kid. If that turned out to be the truth, then the chance of you becoming friends dropped to zero.

“That’s a standoff I didn’t expect.” Your father’s whistling cut through the tension in the room.

You turned your head to look at him and Rick, that stood at the entrance of the room. The leader of Alexandria walked over to the two of you, glancing between you and the other boy. It was easy to put the puzzles together. The one-eyed boy was his son. It was an accurate guess, seeing the fear and uncertainty in the man’s blue eyes.

Rick called his son’s name, reaching for the gun in the boy’s hand. “Carl put it down,” he warned him, looking yet again at the barrel of your weapon.

“No. He’s taking all of our medicine. They said only half our stuff,” he protested, raising his voice. His hand holding the gun started shaking slightly, and your eyes quickly caught that sight. Maybe he wasn’t as brave and badass as you thought, or maybe your father traumatized him so much that his presence scared the boy.

“Really, kid?” Your father stepped in front of Carl in amusement. The whole situation was probably pretty entertaining to him.

“And you should go,” the boy continued looking Negan right in the eye. “Before you find out how dangerous we all are.”

You snorted amused. Shit, you knew that with this sentence, the boy just fucked up. If Negan wasn’t pissed before, he definitely was now. You let out an exasperated sigh, tucking your gun behind your belt. You stopped listening to the conversation between them, your eyes glued to the blue-eyed boy.

You didn’t even pay attention when your father stopped talking for a moment before he commanded Dave and the other Savior to take away all of Alexandria’s weapons.

Your heart started beating faster when you took a closer look at Carl, who scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance. The whole time you were there, he gave you maybe a glance or two, desperately trying to show you that you were the intruder here.

You noticed your father staring at you with narrowed eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, challengingly at you. His gaze went back and forth between you and the boy. When you finally met his eyes, he sighed loudly and shook his head disapprovingly. You rolled your eyes and scoffed lightly, turning around and walking away without sparing Carl another glance.

Your steps sounded too loud in the silent house, making you feel uneasy and a bit ashamed because of getting caught staring like a lovesick puppy at someone who was supposed to be your enemy. And damn, how did he manage to make such an impression on you? Why did you want to talk to him so much?

You sat by the little lake in the town, tangling your fingers in the cold grass and waiting for somebody to call you over and say you were leaving. You felt bored and out of place. You thought you would get out of the sunshine and rainbows town quicker. But it took a lot longer than you initially thought.

There weren’t many Alexandrians around the area, so you could let your guard down for a bit. The humidity from the water was refreshing, and you caught yourself breathing in deeply. If you could, you’d bring that lake back to the Sanctuary. It reminded you of your childhood and the days when your mom took you to swimming classes. However, the water there stank strongly of chlorine, so the air wasn’t as nice as this was.

When someone finally passed by you. It was Carl fucking Grimes. He walked right past you like you weren’t there, but you didn’t take it personally. He had no obligation to keep you entertained, and you knew that. You also knew that he probably didn’t want to have anything to do with you, but something drew you to him.

You waited until no one was looking before following him. If he noticed you behind him, he showed no sign of it for most of this short walk. His steps were long and rushed, and it should’ve been a red flag to you, but you decided to ignore it.

At one point, Carl stopped walking and looked around, searching for something. You noticed he was pretending. He did that to make sure you were still following him. And when he noticed you did, he scoffed under his nose. He kept walking, pretending like you weren’t there.

You noticed you were getting close to the edge of the town. There was no one in sight anywhere around you. Carl must’ve seen that, too, because he stopped and sighed, turning around slowly to face you. His expression had turned into a frown, and his eye had grown cold and angry.

“What do you want? Why did you stare at me, and why did you follow me here?” he spat the words at you, glaring daggers at you as if he wanted you to fall dead before his feet. He stepped closer to you, invading every inch of your space, forcing himself between you and the town. You took a step back, your back hitting the cold wall of the house behind you.

“No reason,” you muttered, trying to act nonchalant about it all. “Just wondered where you were going.” You tried to sound natural, which was hard, considering you were freaking out about being in such close proximity to him.

Carl stepped closer toward you, knowing you had nowhere to back away now. He glared at you again, and you flinched. “Yeah, right.” He scoffed once more. “Why does it matter?”

Your mind blanked at this sudden question, and you struggled to find an answer. “Well...” You glanced down at the ground nervously. “I haven’t seen anyone my age for so fucking long. I just thought we could talk for a while.” Your voice faltered at the end, your heart pounding against your chest. You swallowed thickly. You didn’t know what else to say.

“About?” he raised his eyebrow, waiting expectantly. You shrugged awkwardly.

“Whatever you want to talk about.” You tried to keep your tone light, hoping it would calm him down somehow. This was getting awkward and embarrassing fast. You weren’t used to people staring at you like they could read your soul with their piercing gaze.

“You’re pretty badass,” you blurted out nervously. You mentally slapped yourself for talking without thinking twice. Carl raised an eyebrow yet again, seeming unimpressed by your answer.

He stared at you, looking even more annoyed now than before. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh. “Whatever. Just leave me alone, okay? You’re not welcome here.” With that, he turned on his heels and started walking away.

“Wait!” You shouted before you could think. He stopped and glared at you once again, this time with more malice than before. He looked ready to punch you. You gulped down some nervousness and continued speaking, trying to sound casual. “Look, I’m sorry I came after you. Like I said, I just wanted to talk.” You smiled sheepishly. “Can’t hurt to try, can it?”

Carl crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against the brick wall beside you and studied you; his forehead furrowed in concentration.

For a while, neither of you said anything. You stood still, staring at each other intensely, waiting for the other to speak first. It felt like hours had passed before Carl finally broke the silence.

“Your dad is an asshole.”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded. “Yeah, he really is,” you admitted.

“A total douchebag,” he continued, but a hint of sympathy was hidden underneath the harsh words. You gazed at him in contemplation, but he wasn’t paying any attention to you. Instead, he stared up at the sky quietly. He seemed lost in thought.

“He wants me to be just like him.” You shook your head and chuckled bitterly.

“That sounds like the sort of thing a douchebag would do.”

The corner of his lips twitched, and you almost didn’t catch it. Almost. Your heartbeat sped up in excitement, and you grinned. You liked seeing him crack a small smile, even though it was barely there. It made you feel warm inside and helped you forget how Carl’s eye flashed dangerously at you just a few minutes before.

“You have a pretty smile,” you blurted out, surprising even yourself.

The boy looked at you quizzically for a minute as if wondering what the hell had possessed you to say something so stupid. But then the corners of his mouth curved upwards into a shy grin, and that was all the answer you needed. You felt giddy and lightheaded. Maybe because of the fact that he was still smiling at you or perhaps the fact that he hadn’t yelled at you yet. Either way, you were grinning foolishly at the boy you considered an enemy just minutes ago.

You watched him as he studied the clouds. He was handsome, and the way his long brown hair framed his face made him look almost angelic. His blue eye shined in the sunlight, but there was something more: it hid loneliness behind its surface. It made you wonder if he felt just as lonely in this world as you did. Then again, you didn’t know enough about him to be sure if that was true. So instead, you focused on the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Do you think this could work?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Carl turned to you, eyebrow raised in question. “Well, I mean, if we became friends… Would it work?”

He frowned, considering your question carefully. “I’m not really sure.” He hesitated, “Maybe.”

You sighed, defeated. “Me neither. But it’s worth a shot, right?”

It took him a few moments before he finally agreed with you. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s worth a shot.”

You smiled widely at him, and he returned the gesture with one of his rare smiles. It sent an electric jolt through your body. You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the butterflies that swarmed your stomach.

@thatcucumberwhore @yttricuz @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @humanmistakes @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff

#the walking dead x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x male reader #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #the walking dead #negan x son! reader #carl grimes x negan's son

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mychoombatheroomba · 2 months

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Pack Mentality

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 29

It may not be the fight you were all training for, but it's the one you find yourselves in. And for the first time in months, you remember how good it is to be part of a unit.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

CW: A fight. Like, just straight up, a group fistfight. Injuries all around (including to the Reader)

Twelve.

Twelve opponents.

The odds weren’t good, but when had they ever been? You’d gotten used to fighting multiple opponents. But that was the trouble - what you were used to. With Leon - hell even with the rest of your squad - it had been a game of knowns. You all knew each other’s moves. Your habits. Hell, there was even something of a uniform fighting style amongst you all. It was brutal, but it made sense.

This, though, was just violence. Messy and savage.

Those first few moments were chaos. Well, if you were being honest, the entire thing was. Fights with seventeen combatants were seldom orderly affairs.

You’d felt fear, anger and then . . . then you’d been lost in the crush, in the adrenaline and familiar cold focus. In the need to get you and yours through this.

Thin the herd. Protect my own. That was your mission.

You would see it done.

You came one step closer to achieving that goal when some idiot thought you weren’t paying attention. They were right to strike while you were otherwise occupied, fighting another of the Fort Benning recruits. He hadn’t counted on your awareness, honed by hours spent under Krauser’s watchful eye, you outnumbered just as you were now. The newcomer had swung a backfist at your face - one you ducked under. Your palm struck his throat first, then your elbow crunched into his nose while he’d sputtered. He went down, curling in on himself.

Eleven.

Williams and Valeria took down one of their opponents, Valeria kicking him hard into a world-shaking blow from the taller woman.

Ten.

Your world became moves and counter moves. Evasions and maneuvering to keep yourself from being surrounded. Punches and kicks you delivered that made you feel less like a person, more a force of nature. You knocked legs out from under the men you fought. Delivered pain to their stomachs and faces and twisted their arms almost to the point of breaking. Knuckles bloodied and bruised, your body ached from the blows you hadn’t been fast enough to stop. Your opponents were no better, though. You’d given as good as you got so far, as did the rest of your squad. The trouble was the numbers. That these bastards had a pension for getting back up. Watching each other’s backs only went so far when you were surrounded and so thoroughly outnumbered. You were all better than your opponents, but they still had training. They knew how to fight. More than that, you had to account for human error. You made mistakes.

Mistakes like Valeria leaving her flank open when she thought Williams had her covered, earning her a tackle to the ground.

Mistakes like Alenko being just a second too late on a block.

Mistakes like you falling for a feint and feeling the now-too-familiar impact of a fist to the face. Your eye felt the compression of the blow, the pain. Your head spun, everything going unfocused for a moment. You’d be black and blue and swollen tomorrow, you knew.

Had to get there first.

You staggered away. Vision clearing. Guard up. A shape moved in front of you, fist raised.

It never landed.

⧫⧫⧫

Leon pulled your would-be assailant back, arms wrapping under the man’s own from behind. Holding him in place. He looked at you from over the man’s shoulder, seeing the pain but also the determination in your eyes. Not about to waste the opportunity Leon gave you, you pushed that pain aside and gave the man your retribution. Your kick hit the man hard between the legs, but Leon imagined the haymaker that followed hurt just as bad. The man’s breath left him in a sad exhale as you drove a fist into his head, and Leon threw him to the ground.

Nine.

Your eyes widened and Leon didn’t have time to react to the blow that came his way, the attacker rushing him seemingly out of nowhere. It caught him in the side painfully hard, and then it was your turn to be his shield.

Rushing to Leon’s side just as he blocked another punch, you spun, kicking your leg straight to the side. Leon had come to expect power from you, but every time he saw it . . . it was almost enough to make him fall for you all over again, even in the middle of all this mess. Your kick connected with the man’s side, pushing him away. Leon took the opportunity. Two kicks, one to the side of the knee that made the man’s stance buckle, and the next a roundhouse to the head, delivered with more force than you would have expected. The soldier went down without much fanfare.

Eight.

And then, away from the rest of the fight for just a moment, Leon looked up, seeing you there. Just as bruised and bloodied as he was, and staggeringly beautiful.

But there would be time to admire you later. The moment passed quickly, and he saw his thoughts reflected in your eyes.

Let’s get to work.

You both turned, taking in the state of affairs before you. Just in time to see Valeria take a blow to the face, blood and spit flying from her mouth. Williams answered in retaliation, but she looked bad, too. The pair were surrounded, five against two. Alenko had two of his own friends to deal with, one of whom drove him backwards until his back hit the wall of the building behind him. But as the two closed in, Alenko reached down, collecting the fine, dry dirt from the ground beneath him and throwing it up into his attackers eyes.

The final assailant was already heading your way, pausing for a moment as he took in the sight of you and Leon, realizing that his own allies were otherwise occupied. Leon almost felt bad for the poor fucker.

Almost.

Then he rushed you, anyway, aiming a kick at your stomach. One he telegraphed plainly. Smaller movements, Leon thought to himself, as you easily stepped to the side. One of your arms hooked under the man’s extended leg, the other bracing at his shoulder. And with the momentum of your movement and the strength you’d earned over months and years of service, you lifted him clean off the ground . . . and then threw him down on his back. In the distance, Alenko did something similar, lunging for his temporarily blinded opponent and reaching his arms around the man’s waist. He hoisted him up, then, and slammed him down hard. Leon, though, was almost too busy watching your back to notice that.

Seven.

You continued on, trying to get to Valeria and Williams. The man you’d thrown tried to get up, but Leon ended that impulse with a hard kick of his own, sending the man down into the ground once more. He groaned but didn’t move to get up again.

Six.

Williams yelped as she was pulled off her feet, and Leon looked up just in time to see her thrown over someone’s shoulder by her arm. Even in the dim light of evening, he could still see the dust kicked up as she hit the ground. Her eyes widened, and the man who’d thrown her brought his fist hard down against her nose, breaking it. She cried out again, grasping at her face and curling in on herself. When the culprit turned, you were met with the fury-filled stare of Taylor.

And if you were met with fury, then when he looked at you and Leon, he was met with hellfire.

Valeria, though, pushed herself up from the ground first, charging Taylor sideways. His concentration broken, it gave you time to focus on the other four he’d been fighting alongside. Only one of which stayed to help Taylor with Valeria. The other three turned your way, advancing quickly towards you and Leon.

And for a few moments, as the end of the fight began, Leon felt unstoppable with you at his side. You both matched your three opponents step for step, blocking and evading and punishing those moves. This may not have been the fight you two had been training for, exactly, but it was the one you found yourselves in. One that gave Leon - and no doubt you as well - deja vu. Three against the two of you. You’d fought those odds before, when you were both more unbalanced. When you didn’t know each other as thoroughly as you did now. Even without your knives, even against men who meant to do you real, true harm, you and Leon moved as one. Defending one another, creating an opening that the other could use. It was . . . well, were it not for the lingering pain in his head and knuckles, it might have almost felt good.

Therein lay the problem, he supposed. He should have known better by now to feel such confidence in something. To let himself think he was unstoppable.

Because as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Leon glimpsed Valeria. There was a man on top of her, pinning her down, laying blow after blow that she raised her arms desperately to block. And, seeming to think his friend had it sorted, Taylor then turned his attention away from her, stalking your way.

The brawny man was bruised, like you and Leon were, but he had the benefit of not fighting three other people.

You were in the middle of an exchange when Leon saw him coming, and he tried to call out a warning to you.

What he hadn’t seen was the fifth aggressor knocking Alenko down, too. Leon didn’t see him beelining towards the two of you. He only felt the devastating blow as it made contact with his face, blood splattering in the air and onto the dirt as it brought him down, his vision going hazy.

⧫⧫⧫

“Leon!” you called, but he fell just as your opponent did. Seeing him go down coupled with the inertia of the throw you’d used to get the man you were fighting away from you provided an opportunity.

The man you’d been fighting rolled away from you-

Five-

-and then you felt another punch seed pain across your face. Your cheek this time, luckily, but it still made the throbbing ache already present in your skull all the worse. You raised your arms as you saw another strike incoming, surprised when you blocked it successfully . . . but a worse surprise came when you realized you were the only one left standing, with Valeria still grappling with her own adversary.

Four of them and one of you.

You knew how this would likely end.

But you’d be damned if you weren’t going down swinging.

So you picked the one that had attacked Leon. The one who had hurt the man you cared for. Shoved hard into the man attacking you and rushed forward. You leapt, your knee slamming hard into his chest. Trying to get them away from Leon. To give him time. To hopefully let him get up. To keep the heat off Valeria as she fought her own battle.

You fought hard as you always did. Blocking strikes one after another, retaliating with blows of your own. It was a losing battle, but you did all you could. There was even a moment of hope as you brought a man’s face down on your knee. Hope that spurred you on . . .

Right up until pain cracked across your left side in an all too familiar spot. Your ribs twinged in agony as one of your attackers landed a punch there, and it was just enough when combined with the beating you’d already taken to stun you.

You thought you heard someone calling your name as another blow landed across your face. You tried to stay up, you really did, catching yourself on your hands and knees. Just like you tried to move when you saw the kick coming your way.

Instead, you screamed as it made contact with your side.

You screamed as you felt those bones that never quite healed right starting to give way as you were kicked again, forcing you onto your side at last.

Forcing you into the dirt.

You could only lie there, lost in the pain, so different and so familiar. The knife had hurt more - infinitely more - but this . . .

Footsteps. Boots by your head. You looked up and saw the owner of those boots standing over you, chiseled jaw set tight as he looked down at you. Taylor looked entirely too pleased with himself, and you wondered briefly if he was going to knock out one of your teeth, too. If he would kick and beat you until your face swelled. You could only brace for that, trying to ignore the brokenness of the bones in your side enough to raise a defense.

Something shifted a ways away from you. Someone - scrambling against the dirt.

Then Taylor was being thrown away from you, and there Leon was, facing down the impossible for you again.

You couldn’t let him face it alone.

It hurt. God, did it hurt to move. To push yourself up from the ground. Your ribs begged you to stay down . . . but you’d never been good at listening to your own sense of self-preservation. So, with as much of a steadying breath as you could take, you brought your arms underneath your body and slowly - agonizingly - you began to rise.

⧫⧫⧫

He always managed to find himself in this position, didn’t he? Leon, outnumbered and alone, with only the promise of pain to look forward to. Still, he didn’t regret it. Even as his jaw ached, as blood from his nose and broken skin on his forehead spilled down his face, he fought. Because if it could spare you some pain, he would take all the blows in the world.

So he moved the way Krauser had taught him. The way you had taught him; fast and efficient, blocking what strikes he could with his head spinning the way it was. Punches and kicks rattled his body as he defended himself, desperately looking for an opening.

And he got one, when a small figure rushed in from the sidelines, leaping through the air with a leg extended.

Valeria snarled as her kick landed, the unexpected force of it knocking one of Leon’s attackers aside and allowing Leon himself to finish the job with a roundhouse of his own.

Four.

He looked to where Valeria had been struggling with her own opponent, seeing him now lying on the ground, writhing in pain and clutching at his shoulder. She’d won then, and come to help him.

Three.

Three versus two . . . or so Leon thought it would be, because when those remaining three began closing in, there was a roar from behind him.

And then, with a speed he’d not seen and a pain-fed rage in your eyes, you were rushing forward. The soldier you attacked didn’t have any time to react, so caught off guard by your charge, that when you grabbed the back of his knees and pulled them out from under him, he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Valeria huffed a little laugh, and Leon had to pull his attention away from you, in awe of the utter ferocity in your movements. They were matched when Valeria blocked a punch from one of the remaining soldiers, and the two of them began a fight of their own.

And then it was Leon facing down Taylor once again, the fragile man who’d started all of this.

Leon was tired. Exhausted and hurting. But he wasn’t going to back down. Not now.

“Last chance to walk away from this,” he said, tasting his own blood as he spoke. It was more mercy than he should have given, after seeing Taylor kicking you while you were down. After he caused you so much pain. So, Leon was almost glad when the soldier shook his head.

“Like hell.”

Leon nodded. Raised his arms. “You’re a slow learner, aren’t you?”

And finally, the end of this mess began. Taylor charged forward, and Leon met him halfway.

⧫⧫⧫

You were in agony. Every move hurt more than the last, but you kept going - kept bringing your fists down against the man you had pinned beneath you. It was brutal, but you’d lost the part of you that cared. Buried beneath the pain of it all.

Show no mercy.

So, once you saw the fight go out in the man you were on top of, breaking his nose beneath your fist, you clumsily got to your feet, your body protesting against it once more.

Two.

Two left, and as you stood, you glimpsed Valeria kicking her leg up, cracking into her opponent’s jaw. Then she arced the kick back down, and her heel struck the back of the man’s head, sending him sprawling into the dust.

One.

Taylor was the last.

And he was facing down Leon, swinging fists with wild abandon. It hadn’t been enough in sparring, and it wasn’t enough now.

Leon blocked a high attack, then wrapped his arm around Taylor’s. Striking his stomach once, twice, three times. Valeria rushed in then, delivering a backfist that should have made the man see stars.

He wasn’t done, though. Idiots didn’t know when to quit.

Leon was ready, though, when he tried to move for another attack, and so were you. Your boy, your Leon . . . were it not for the pain in your ribs, you would have smiled wide as you saw him turn over his shoulder, his leg extending out. The kick landed on Taylor’s shoulder, sending him spinning and stumbling away. Right towards you.

With a cry, you outstretched your arm and moved forward. The pain was worth it to see Taylor get clotheslined to the ground, his back and head cratering into the earth.

There was a moment of stillness, then, as Taylor groaned, weakly turning over onto his side. You watched from above him as he lay there, pathetic and defeated. Him and all his eleven allies, the men who’d thought you would all be easy prey.

Twelve.

You’d beaten twelve trained combatants.

The thought made you huff a laugh - and then you instantly regretted it when your ribs shot pain through you as punishment.

But you sure as shit weren’t going to let Taylor see that moment of weakness. So, as Leon and Valeria moved to your side, observing your shared work, you fought to keep a straight - if bruised - face. Especially as Taylor started to push himself up once more.

“Stay down,” Leon warned, his voice firm. Like steel.

Taylor, though, didn’t listen. You and Leon were both happy to let Valeria do the honors, and with a final punch as he tried to rise, Taylor was knocked out cold. “Dulces sueños, cabrón.”

It was over.

And fuck, you were hurting for it.

You grimaced at last, taking a moment to breathe. As the adrenaline faded, you were left with the aches of the fight. The sharp, stabbing pain in your side. The throbbing as your eye swelled more and more. You must have looked a sight, but your squad mates were no different.

Leon was no different.

Seeing him like that, seeing him bruised and weary . . . it made a mix of emotions bubble in your gut. Emotions you weren’t ready for.

Emotions you didn’t get to really feel, because of cosmically hilarious timing. “What the fuck is going on here?” Commander Cortez sounded more furious than you’d heard him yet. Then again, you were standing over a dozen of his men, all passed out or in various states of immobility.

No time to celebrate your victory, then. But when had life ever thrown you a bone like that?

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A/N: Anyway, Taylor is a bitch and got what he deserved. Also, idk if y'all have read Boot Camp by artificialsvicide over on Ao3 but like, this lil arc was very much inspired by the flashbacks in that series, and if y'all like sparring with tension, you should 10000% go read it! It's damn good!

Mood music for this fight is "Snakes" by PVRIS, "Archangel" by Samurai and "Friday Night Fire Fight" by Aligns. Because I'd fight misogynists to those songs.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

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