#also the straight floor is covered in crumbs. if you even care | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Aphrodisiac Induced Angel and Sorcerer

Word Count: 1K Each

A/N: i have nothing to say except that grass can’t fix my thristing. i also like to think that solomon would be a complete mess if given the chance to be with mc in an intimate way

Intro:

The angel can’t help but bounce in his steps as he walks up the steps of the House of Lamentation. You invited him over for help on a project. Simeon would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a twinge of pride at you coming to him for help. Surely, you could have gone to the brothers or anyone else, but you chose him. He smiles at the thought, grabbing the handle of the front door and letting himself in. The cold air of the house stings against his skin, warm from his own internal heat but also from the walk. Perhaps, if he’s lucky, he’ll be able to spend time afterwards with you where studying won’t be the thing that keeps you two together but rather you wanting him to be there. For now, the time that he has with you will remain uninterrupted and while that may not last long, he only pleads with himself that perhaps you’ll become distracted and in turn you’ll lose focus and beg for him to pay attention to you, textbooks forgotten and only the sound of your laughter filling his ears.

It’s wishful thinking, thinking that has his face burn in fear that somehow Father is listening to his every thought and watching him with unblinking and judgemental eyes. His breath catches in his throat, suffocating him and he has to remind himself, mumbling under his breath that as long as he’s in Devildom, he remains unseen. He walks into the kitchen, opting to calm himself before he accompanies you- he doesn’t want the time that he spends with you to be sullied by something frivolous as thinking. At the kitchen table sits a plate of baked goods, a lovely handwritten note creeping from under it, warning the reader to not eat any of the treats.

The time that he spends in Devildom must be corrupting him. He’s sure of it. His glove is dotted with crumbs, his eyes glancing towards the entryway grateful that no one is there to watch as he takes a bite out of something that he was warned not to. It’s not as if there should be much harm to it, there were plenty on the plate and there still are. The treat melts in his mouth, burning his tongue and making his eyes water. It burns him and he takes more, scarfing down the treat and leaning over the counter, his eyes wide and body now aflame. It tastes so familiar, the way that the treat melts in his mouth and weighs heavy on his tongue, so sweet that it must be a crime.

His chest is tight, his hand scratching down the counter and his head grows foggy. Simeon walks towards you, knocking gingerly at the door, his chest still and lungs burning with the desire to breathe- to breathe in something, anything, your own scent, something so intoxicating that it fills his lungs with the sweet relief of air. Looking at you, he wonders if this is what it feels like to be human, to want and have your own body constrict around itself despite knowing its sin.

Simeon:

Simeon doesn’t know why he goes to you. He’s aware of what’s happening to him- the burning desire deep in him, the way that the thought of you makes his heart beat against his chest in a way that makes him scared it’ll actually rupture past his ribs and spill his blood on the floor beneath him. He can hear you come to the door, the shadow under the small space and the twisting of the knob. His breath hitches in his throat when he looks at you, his mind swirling with thoughts of you- wanting to hold you, wanting to kiss you, wanting to pin you against your bed and kiss your neck. You call his name and he collapses into your arms, his hands grasping fitsfuls of your shirt in his hand. His breath is ragged, heavy and puffing against your bare neck and you stumble when he walks forward, out of the way from the doorframe, far enough to kick the door close. He isn’t sure what he is doing, but he knows that when he’s beside you, he’s breathing in your scent and that only makes him want to pull you closer.

You’re the only thought he has in his mind- the only one that he is able to make sense of. He leans against you, his eyes closing and his grip on you tightening. He whispers an apology, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, his voice sweet as he lets his lips graze against your earlobe and rest on your neck. His apologies are slurred, his weight leaning against you as he clings to you tightly. He confesses that he had eaten something he shouldn’t have and now he stands in your arms with a cock that throbs in the confines of his pants. He flinches at your touch, burying his head into the crook of your neck, whining when your hand parts through his hair and your fingertips lay at the base of his neck. If he had known what the effects of the sweet would have been he would have never taken it, he promises with a shaky breath.

It’s hard to think when you’re so close to him. His mind is foggy and the only thing he can think about is how sweet you smell, how earthly and the scent of your cream faint against his nose. He’s desperate, gingerly pressing himself close to your thigh only to flinch when he makes contact. Your heart beats, pulsing against his lips and he wonders what you’d taste like, how you’d feel under his lips and before he’s even able to think about that, he starts to cry, clinging close to you with tears that glisten down the curve of his face. His eyes are brimmed with tears, begging for you to take care of him. The pulsing is too much, he can’t think and the only thing that can even come close to a thought is you. He falls to his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him, his face pressed against your plump stomach. He begs for your forgiveness- his straight up perversion as he cries against you, unable to take the growing ache in his pants.

Sin starts to overtake him, pulling him close and leading him to the bed where he lies above your comforter, his hands covering his face and his legs shaking. He can already feel semen leak past his briefs and stain the inside of his pants from just the simple guidance to your bed. Despite the sin that he commits, you treat him with kindness, cupping his face and shushing him when his sob catches in his throat. Your hands flutter to his thighs, squeezing the muscle and he can hear your breathless laugh when he jerks in response. He begs for no more teasing, he doesn’t think he can handle it when he’s already in such a vulnerable position. As pitiful as it is, he lets out a whine when you unzip his pants but you don’t laugh and through the gaps between his fingers, he can see you smile softly down at him. You pet his cock between the briefs, his breath catching is his throat as he watches you toy with the outline of his cock. More semen leaks, staining his briefs in a darker color.

His breath is still sweet, his heart beating against his chest and his eyes filled with tears, as he shuts his eyes when his cock meets the cool air of your room. Your hand wraps around his cock, and arches his back into your loose fist. His bulging base is firm as it throbs in your hand, small ripples that form underneath your palm as you give a tentative squeeze. The angel beside you is adorned with a flushed face, his eyes shining with unshed tears and your name on his lips. Your hands leave his cock and he shakes his head, muttering “no” under his breath. He’s already felt you and he’s so drunk off of love and want, that he can’t bear for you to move away from him. Not when you’re so close. You pull him upwards, letting him rest beside you, your body close to his as your hand wraps around his cock, lazily pumping him. He hides his face, panting and thrusting his hips in a sloppy fashion to meet your hand. Simeon is under the light of your room, the pale orange glow and the stars that peek between your curtain, his cock twitching and spilling in a pearly white onto your hand that cradles him gently. There’s a building pressure in his stomach, one that makes him eager to kiss you and touch you despite everything in him screaming that this action is already too far. As if you could read his distressed thoughts, your hand flutters to his face, lifting him upwards to kiss at the corner of his lips. His tongue lolls out, gasping for breath and your thumb runs over his ridges. Your name is repeated, sullied by the angel’s lustful nature as he spills his seed in your hands, and he reaches out, leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss that only makes his leg shake in ecstasy.

Intro:

Solomon walks into the House of Lamentation, taking great glee that everyone else happens to be busy with some task that pertains to their specific realm. While he, however, gets to indulge in some quality alone time with you. He walks into the house, his smile creeping as the house is silent. He really does have you all to himself- he gets to just sit around and talk to you without disturbance. His tongue peeks to wet his lips, his mouth dry and thirst lingers to linger. You already know that he’s here, having messaged you early, he calls your name, letting you know that he’s in the kitchen. He can hear a muffled reply, one that he can’t quite make out due to the thick walls. Assuming that you might have asked for a drink, he pulls two out of the fridge, setting them down on the counter.

In the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of something shining under the light, his attention now turned to it. On the counter sits a glass covered plate with neatly arranged baked sweets inside of it. There’s a sticky note attached- elegant handwriting that tells the reader not to take one without permission. There’s plenty of them, and finding no harm in taking just one, he does a quick glance around the room to make sure it is empty. With delicate hands, he lifts the glass cover, grabbing a sweet and taking a bite. It’s sweet, overly so, filling his mouth and yet, in the next bite, it’s perfect- soft and sweet, the sweet melting in his mouth. He eats the remainder, licking his lips, taking another quick glance to the entrance of the kitchen, he reaches for another. As he does so, you call his name, his body turning towards your voice and walking towards you as if he were in a trance.

Being around the Avatar of Lust should have prepared Solomon for any hints of aphrodisiacs. It wouldn’t be his time that he’s been engulfed with the sweet scent of one, nor the lingering taste that sits heavy on his tongue and makes his teeth ache with sweetness. And yet, he doesn’t notice the fogginess in his mind until he stands at your door. His mouth is filled with cotton, his chest tight with labored breathing that puffs past his lips, and he can hardly think straight. All that Solomon knows is that he wants to be near you and not in the way that he usually wants- to hold your hand and be seated by you, but in a way much more intimate that makes his face flush and skin burn. His feet drag against the floor, his eyes heavy and he can feel the pulsing of his cock, and the beating of his heart that beats in his rib cage. Your voice sounds closer, still muffled by the door, but he can hear you, he can hear your bed creak and the sound of your footsteps walking towards the door.

Solomon:

The few seconds that it takes you to arrive at your door are the longest that the sorcerer has ever gone through. He can hear your steps, he can feel the air shaft and his mouth is filled with drool. He wonders if his face is still flushed, blood pooling in his cheeks or he’s finally returned to a normal color. Despite the twisting in his stomach and the familiar pang of want, Solomon greets you at your door, smiling cheerfully and teasing at how fast you came rushing to the door. He’s quick to rush to your bed, sitting cross legged and trying to ignore the wave of pleasure that sends a chill down his spine. He lets out a shaky breath, masking it as a breathless laugh when you give him an odd look. He only shakes his head and asks for you to sit beside him, patting the bed as he smiles. He knows what courses through his veins, he’s felt this effect multiple times in his life, and while he’s dealt with them before, he doesn’t want you to see him in such a vulnerable state, not when he’d be so fixated on his own pleasure that he’d deprive you of your own. He bites at the inside of his cheek and chastises himself for thinking that you’d even help him with his issue. He got himself into this mess, and he won’t drag you into it.

He can’t stand the look in your eyes- the confusion mixed with concern as your brows furrow and your lips pout. Yet, he continues to smile, asking for you to join him on the bed, color returning to his face when his mind wanders at the sound of his sentence. You walk quickly to him and he looks down, staring at the floorboards and gulping the salvia that has pooled in his mouth. His name is called and the sweet sound of it leaving your lips makes his heart ache- a soft whisper, his name cooed and your hands resting over his shoulders. He hums in response, keeping his head down. Your hands are soft compared to his, calluses that have formed over the ages while yours remain soft, a gentle touch that has long been forgotten. He peers upwards, letting his chin rest against your palm and the look you give him makes his lungs deflate, his heart pounding reactivity against his chest and face going red once more. You ask him if he’s all right, and he wishes that he could say yes. He wishes that he could remember the spell it was to wash away the effects of the aphrodisiac. All he wanted to do was spend the day with you. He is unable to lie to you, chuckling nervously with his hand scratching at the back of his head.

It’s much easier to stare at your closet as he explains. After all, it sounds so silly to tell you that he had eaten something that he was warned to not have eaten. He tells you how he had consumed something, an aphrodisiac that makes him unable to think properly. He’s lucky enough that he can explain it but even so, the ache in his stomach won’t lessen, his chest deflates, his voice going hoarse as he apologizes to you. He really had meant to spend the day with you, but now, he sits on your bed, defiling the very place you rest, with himself. Your hand falls from his face and for that short second where you aren’t touching him, makes his heart drop. But then, you cup his face and sit on his lap and it’s enough for his mind to spiral, his hands catching himself as he leans backwards,a heavy flush crossing over his nose and filling his face. Your hands cup his face and he can only stare at you with his mouth parted, his eyes glancing to your lips that smile at him. The aphrodisiac hits him hard when you touch him, his cock throbbing and pressing against the side of our thigh. He doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or if he’s allowed to lean into your touch. His body is on fire, his eyes widening and your lips ghost over his. You call his name and he nods his head, whispering a feeble plea for you to kiss him.

The kiss is soft, a gentle press against his lips but he wants more. He needs more. He feels as if he’s about to die if he doesn’t get more. He whines against your lips, grasping onto your shirt with shaky hands and pulling you closer to him, shifting to let the tent in his pants rub against your thigh. The tight friction makes him deepen the kiss, his tongue running over your bottom lip as his hands twist your shirt in his hands. He’s flustered, whining and breaking the kiss to whisper who he needs more, how he’s aching for your touch. Your hand rests over his thigh, his muscles twitching in response to you being there, to you even touching him. Slowly, you move upwards, every inch leaving him shaking. Finally, your hands reach over his cock, cupping the tent and palming it gently. He moans into your mouth, pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily as you undo his zipper, and pull away at his briefs, letting his cock spring free, an opaque white dotting at his cock and slipping down his head.

Every feeling in his body is intensified, the blood that rushes throughout his body, the way that his saliva is heavy on his tongue, the vein on his cock that sends a pins and needles throughout his body when you rub your thumb over it- he’s breathing heavily, his hands loosening around you, only to tighten and grip at your shirt, pulling you close and telling you to continue, begging for more. His cock throbs in your hand, creamy discharge spilling over and staining himself. He lets out a moan, broken and rippled with gasps as he begs for you to continue, his cock still so sensitive and spurting out his seed. You continue on, leaving him with tears racing down his face, his voice cracking as he speaks, his cock still erect with your hand over it. You slowly lead him down, letting him lay above you, your legs spread and the shorts that you wear riding up, revealing your plump thighs. Solomon is above you, his lips pressing against yours, lining his cock between your thighs as he humps you, holding you close with tears in his eyes as he thanks you, letting his semen taint your covers.

1K notes · View notes

divine-mistake · 3 years

Text

virtue and vice

Summary: What they don’t tell you in bootcamp is that trying to fall asleep next to your co-worker, the one that you’re insanely attracted to and might have the tiniest crush on, who also hates your guts and kind of would rather turn himself over to HYDRA than hold a real conversation with you, while sharing the same bed, is impossible. There is no way in hell you’re going to be able to fall asleep next to Bucky.

Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-size (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut (vaginal fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, bit of a Dom Bucky Barnes), language, insecurity (weight issues, a little perceived fatphobia which is wiped out really soon after)

Word Count: 6120

A/N: This is a tumblr request for @buckybarnes101 who requested a Bucky/Plus-sized reader enemies to lovers who have to share one bed with smut. I loved this request and really hot to make something hot and rough and fast! Thank you so much for the request - enjoy!!

main masterlist | AO3

It finally happened, the one thing you prayed would never ever happen, the thing you’ve been dreading since you started joining James Buchanan Barnes on his stealth missions, the event that will inevitably spark your downward spiral into doom, destroying the crumbs of the relationship you’ve managed to build with him.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he says, barreling through the motel room like a ping pong ball with a little too much pent up energy.

You shrug your bag off your tired shoulder, letting it fall to the ground, not caring about how dirty the carpeting must be.

“At least it’s a queen,” you say, toeing off your boots. “I’ve had worse with Steve.”

Bucky turns to glare at you over his shoulder. “You’ve shared a bed with Steve?” he says, accusation rising in his tone. You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“I’m sorry—are you saying you haven’t? ‘Cause I call bullshit on that.”

He doesn’t answer, choosing to sift through his duffel bag instead. You shrug despite the fact that he can’t see you.

“I mean, it’s pretty routine, isn’t it? I’ve shared with Natasha, too. Sometimes you just have to make do.”

“Yeah but it’s Natasha,” he says like it matters. “I can’t believe you’ve slept with Steve.”

“God, Bucky, it’s only weird if you make it weird, and you’re making it weird.”

He straightens now, body stiff, one of his hidden holsters hanging from his vibranium hand. He doesn’t look at you and you’re too tired to start a fight—much less finish it—so you hope he just goes ahead and fucks off to the shower which you know he’s getting ready to do. He’s always been selfish like that. But it’s also not so selfish, you think, for someone like Bucky to want to wash the missions away as soon as possible.

But the bastard could ask sometimes, couldn’t he?

“I’m going first,” he says, just like always, and you bite your tongue.

“‘Kay.”

You turn and sigh, focusing your glare on the one bed filling the motel room. If there was one thing you always hoped for after a mission, it was not to end up in the same bed as James Barnes. The two of you notoriously don’t get along, for whatever reason that may be (although you’re pretty sure it has to do with the fact that he thinks you’re a useless addition to the team), but there is literally no denying the attraction you felt for him.

The man is hot, and he’s had a couple, or maybe most, of the screws in his head knocked loose.

You have it bad for him.

Oh, but James Barnes is not fond of you. Not that he would ever admit it, but the dude has some serious fatphobia going on. You’re ninety-nine-percent sure of that.

Alone in the bedroom, you start to strip out of your tac-suit, letting your gun belt and the rest of your holsters fall in a ring around your feet. As soon as the heaviness is off you, relieving some of the ache in your body, you think about just falling straight into the bed blood and dirt and grime and all. But you’re also sure Bucky would lose his mind if you did that.

Instead, you look to the floor length mirror just in front of the motel door, frowning.

Your skin-tight suit doesn’t do much to hide all the lumps and bumps and dips and hips all squished into it, and when you’re covered in tiny cuts and burns on every visible patch of skin, you can’t help but think about how Bucky sees you.

The useless fat Avenger! How fun.

You turn to the side a little, glancing at the fullness of your ass. Nice. A redeeming quality of the extra weight you carry atop the strong muscle you’ve built in your short time as part of the Superhero Menagerie. Not having a gimmick of any kind really forced you into working for the position—and now you’re not just the useless fat chick, you’re the super hacking, super gun toting, mega-badass fat Avenger instead.

The shower squeaks and the water stops, signaling the end of Bucky’s shower.

You look up to the ceiling, praying to some god to hear you that everything will work out just fine.

And then Bucky exits the bathroom, steam flooding from the room, wrapped only in a thinning motel towel secured by his metal hand at his waist. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen his chiseled figure, but there’s something that jumps up your throat at the thought that you have to shower in that same shower and then sleep in the same bed as the bed that body is sleeping in.

Oh, fuck.

“All yours,” he murmurs, not even looking at you.

“Great.” You grab your change of clothes and head for the bathroom, trying to think about anything except him.

When you smell less like blood and asbestos and more like strawberries and peaches, hair damp and a clean t-shirt and sleep shorts sticking to your heat-splotched body, you enter the bedroom once again. Bucky is sitting against the headboard, going through his phone now that you’re both safe and secure in France, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants.

Okay, act cool. Just get into bed and pretend like it’s not weird.

You pad over to the bed, grimacing at the feel of the gross carpet beneath your clean feet, hopping beneath the sheets as quick as possible. If Bucky looks at you, then you don’t see it, because you are focused solely on not looking at him. Petty? Perhaps. Keeping your sanity intact? Absolutely.

“You tired?” he asks and you snort.

“Extremely. You don’t have to turn off the light if you aren’t ready to sleep, though.” You situate yourself as far on the edge of the bed as possible—something you’ve never done with any of the other people you’ve been forced to share a bed with. You and Natasha aren’t new to sleeping together, especially after some of the nights out you’ve shared, but you and Steve definitely cuddled, though you wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Steve’s just kinda lonely, you think. And to be honest, you’re a little touch-starved yourself.

But you know you take up a lot of space and you’re sure Bucky hates that, so you bury yourself under the motel sheets and snuggle up to your pillow, trying to make yourself as small as humanly possible.

After a moment, Bucky asks, “Are you comfortable like that?”

You crack an eye open and twist to look at him. “What?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t you tell me not to make it weird? You’re making it weird now.”

“You already made it weird.”

“I’m trying not to make it weird anymore.”

“A little late for that—”

“God, just, c’mere.”

Bucky grabs you around your waist, your shirt riding up, and pulls you closer. You shriek in surprise, eyes wide, as he manhandles you until you’re away from the edge and your back is pressed against his bare chest.

“There—that’s better,” he says, nearly whispering in your ear he’s so close to you now. He unwinds his arm from your middle and reaches up to hit the light, the room going completely dark save for the little sliver of artificially light pouring in from underneath the shitty curtains.

You don’t even know what to say. Bucky’s rendered you completely speechless.

First of all, the man has never touched you for no reason like that before. Second of all, how the hell did he just move you like you weighed the same as the pillow beneath his head? Third of all, he hates you, so why is he so bothered about you and your comfort? Fourth, he just moved you around like you weighed literally nothing.

And boy, did it send a flood of pleasure straight to your core, almost as if your body just gave the green light to your libido. The perfect time too, y’know, when you’re sharing a bed with your co-worker who hates your guts.

Play it cool. Just play it fucking cool.

“Uh, are you okay?” you ask him in return, and Bucky shifts so his back is pressed up to yours.

“Yeah,” he says. “Go to sleep.”

“‘Kay. Good night.”

“Night.”

What they don’t tell you in bootcamp is that trying to fall asleep next to your co-worker, the one that you’re insanely attracted to and might have the tiniest crush on, who also hates your guts and kind of would rather turn himself over to HYDRA than hold a real conversation with you, while sharing the same bed, is impossible. There is no way in hell you’re going to be able to fall asleep next to Bucky.

Your brain turns and turns and turns, body straining to stay as still as possible to not upset the super soldier sleeping right beside you. What does he have against you? Why does he hate you so much? You really thought once you started going on more missions—proving you were worthy to be a part of the team—that he’d start coming around and seeing your value. But you feel like all it’s served is to make him hate you more, especially now that you tag along on his stealth operations as his techie.

Maybe he knows you’re into him, and maybe that’s why he never wants to be around you. But, god, it’s not like you think you have a chance with him in any capacity, and you’d pass up tens of thousands of chances to be with him if he’d just be your friend!

Because Bucky deserves another friend, doesn’t he?

As if he can read your mind—or maybe it’s just god playing tricks on you—Bucky shifts around in the bed again, turning toward you. You don’t know if he’s sleeping yet or not, but you curl in on yourself a little to give him more space to stretch out.

Bucky’s vibranium arm slides over your waist, cool metal grazing by the sliver of skin peeking out from underneath your shirt, and when you flinch from it, he pulls you flush against him. Behind you, the bare skin of his chest is warm, almost too hot. Super soldiers run warmer than normal humans, and you think he’d be nice to have in bed more often.

In your ear, Bucky groans in his sleep and it makes you shiver despite the heat radiating through your back. He must be like Steve, wanting to cuddle in his sleep. No one ever wants to admit it out loud, but you’re the best thing to cuddle in the Tower. Being squishy and soft atop hard, strong muscle means you’re more comfortable than all the rigid bodies of the Avengers. Maybe Bucky needs this.

But you wish you could fall asleep so you’ll stop thinking about how much you’ve wanted this since the day you saw him, the new Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, hair tied up in a messy bun and stubble thick and dark, vibranium arm hidden within the sleeve of his leather jacket.

Suddenly, everything is too hot. The room, the motel sheets, the pillow beneath your head. Bucky Barnes behind you, arm slung over your body, holding you to him. He’s sleeping, you know, the quiet rumble of his breathing a song in your ear, chest rising and falling against your back. You shift a little, trying to get more comfortable as the warmth starts to become unbearable. When that doesn’t help, you shift again, trying to pull your back away from Bucky, but it sends your bottom half straight into his.

A growl brushes by your ear all breathy and low and Bucky’s arm tightens around you, bringing you back to him.

Damn, who knew Bucky was such a cuddler when he’s sleeping?

You wait a few minutes, keeping still, until you’re sure he’s slipped back into unconsciousness. His nose is nearly pressed into your hair, his breaths upsetting the small wisps of hairs that curl at your ear. Sweat is starting to collect underneath your shirt where your bodies are connected and you know you’ll never be able to fall asleep like this.

Again, you shift toward the edge of the bed, trying to pull yourself out of Bucky’s grasp, but he drags you back into his embrace. The swell of your ass meets his thigh and in a panic, you move around to try and put space between the two of you again, but Bucky lets out a strangled-sounding groan, hissing through his teeth.

“You gotta stop moving, doll, or you’re not gonna like what happens next.”

He is not asleep.

“Bucky?” you squeak, eyes wide, frozen in place.

“Hm?” His metal hand sneaks underneath the hem of your shirt, fingers finding your soft skin and thumb starting to rub little circles just above your hip, a point of pleasure on your body. No one ever touches you here, and it takes everything you have not to press back into him, asking for more. Your breathing is heavier now as you try to control yourself.

“You aren’t—Why aren’t you sleeping?” you ask, sounding winded from the simplest act of him touching you.

“Hard to sleep when you’re next to me,” he murmurs in your ear, nose brushing up against the patch of skin behind it. Your eyes flutter closed. Every small touch feels like heaven. You never allow others to touch you more than necessary, but now Bucky is handling you so gently.

“I can’t sleep either,” you whisper. “Do you want me to go? I can take a walk.”

He makes a noise of disapproval. “Just stay still,” he says, almost begging. “Go to sleep.”

“It’s hot,” you whine. “You’re too hot.”

You can feel him smirk into the back of your neck. “You don’t gotta tell me, doll.”

“Shut up,” you say with a huff of frustration, wiggling in the bed to get your point across. Immediately, Bucky’s vibranium hand falls to your hip, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough for the flash of pain to turn to pleasure, holding you still.

“I said stop moving,” he says, and it's so close to a command that your teeth tear into your bottom lip as his voice sends shocks through your core. Now, hyperaware of how close your bodies are underneath the sheets, you realize your ass is pressed against his pelvis, not his thigh, and you’ve definitely been—

Bucky grinds into you, seething, breath ghosting over your ear, his cock hard and heavy in his sweatpants.

Wetness pools between your thighs, dampening the thin cotton panties you wear beneath your sleep shorts.

“Bucky,” you breathe his name. “What are you doing?”

“So tired of you teasin’ me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “I’ve put up with it for so long—too long—and I just knew you were gonna do it tonight, too. Only one fucking bed. You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

Your voice sounds so small when you whisper, “What are you talking about?”

Then Bucky lays a kiss to the back of your neck, trailing upward until he reaches the lobe of your ear, and pulls it into his mouth and between his teeth. You shiver, violently, unable to stop the reaction. It must please him because he yanks your hips back into him again, forcing you to grind on his bulge.

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling whatever sounds threaten to fall from your lips.

“Doll, you’ve been teasin’ me from the beginning. From the moment I saw you in your gear on the Berlin mission, all your curves on display in that tight little cat-suit you’re always wearing, armed to the teeth, handling all those guns looking so fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You swallow hard. The Berlin mission, your first stealth mission with Bucky, had gone sour and the two of you found yourselves in a gun fight that was never meant to happen. You’re pretty sure you walked back onto the quinjet covered in blood, bruised, and a gash in your thigh that made you wobble when you stood up, and Bucky didn’t even look at you as per usual. Bucky never looks at you on missions unless he absolutely has to.

Wait.

“Is that why you never look at me?” you ask him, and you wish you could see his face right now, but all you can feel is his lips as they pepper kisses along the column of your throat, coaxing shudders and little squeaks out of you.

“You expect me to look at you without wanting to jump your bones, doll?” His nose caresses the spot at the top of your spine, his fingers melting at your hip and soothing the bruises you’re sure he’s already left. “That’s just askin’ too much, baby. How am I supposed to look at you and stop myself from kissin’ you silly?”

Pleasure flutters through your stomach, surging through the apex of your thighs.

“Then do it,” you tell him. Bucky goes still, unmoving, and you wonder if you’ve pushed too hard.

But then his voice is low, dark, in your ear. “You don’t know what you’re saying, doll.”

The honey dripping from your center, pooling in your underwear, says very differently. Instead of answering, you press your ass back into him, gyrating your hips straight upon his pelvis, rubbing against his clothed cock. Bucky chokes.

And then he’s up and above you, rolling your body beneath him, caging you between his arms. You nearly gasp when you look up at him, his blue eyes intense in a way you’ve never seen them before, his lips pink and swollen from biting—you’re sure yours look the same and he hasn’t even kissed you yet.

Bucky leans closer, his mouth only inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. Your eyes threaten to flutter shut in anticipation but you force yourself to look at him, to take all of him in.

“If you want this, I won’t be able to hold myself back, doll. Wanted you too long. Need you.”

Then, he pulls back, eyes searching yours.

“But if you don’t,” he swallows, “then we’ll forget this ever happened, and everything will go back to normal.”

Fuck that.

“Kiss me, sergeant,” you command, hand shooting up to tangle in his thick hair.

Bucky curses and then he’s on you before you have a chance to reach up and meet him halfway. His lips are rough, chapped, but plush and perfect against yours. He wastes no time, tongue licking into your mouth and meeting yours, tasting you for the first time. You respond eagerly, hand fisting in his hair, pulling him into you until you can’t tell where his body ends and yours begins.

When he’s satisfied with how kiss-drunk you look, lips swollen and eyes hazy, he moves to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and sinks his teeth into your skin, causing you to cry out. The pain and the pleasure mingle, like lovers, like you and Bucky, as his fingers take hold of your shirt and in one tug, the fabric pulls apart at the seams.

You don’t care—you can buy a new shirt. You need him to touch you.

Until you realize you aren’t wearing a bra and that your top half is completely bare to Bucky, the man who, before a minute ago, you thought hated you because you were fat. Because it was the only explanation you had. Because you’re insecure.

Your hands fall upon his chest, bracing against him, stopping him in his tracks. He pulls away from your neck to look at you, brows drawn together in confusion, and all you can do is try and cover yourself with your arms before he gets a peek. It’s dark, but super soldiers can see in the dark. A blessing and a curse.

“I don’t want you to look at me,” you whisper so quietly you realize no normal person would have been able to hear it. “I’m—I shouldn’t have let you—I’m so fat, Bucky.”

Bucky’s eyes widen.

“Baby, baby,” he soothes you, his flesh hand coming up to cradle your cheek, fingers brushing delicately over your skin. “You don’t believe me when I say I want to see you? Doll, your body drives me insane, and god, every time you get an attitude with me and you put your hands on your hips and you look at me all mad…”

Bucky groans and he rocks his pelvis into yours, hard cock hitting your center and making your breath hitch.

“You’re beautiful, baby. Gorgeous. Do you know how hard it is for me to be around you sometimes ‘cause you’re just so pretty? More than pretty, I don’t even know the words to tell you, baby. Please, please don’t hide yourself from me, let me look at you, let me touch you, baby. S’all I want to do is look at you for the rest of my life.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until Bucky’s thumb swipes a tear away and you blink, and he’s smiling at you so warmly, really looking at you, maybe for the first time ever since you’ve known him.

“You think so?” you ask, breathless. “Even though you’re so—so good, Bucky, so beautiful and so good.”

He rests his forehead against yours, inhaling your scent, your essence, your soul. You nuzzle into his palm, kissing the center of his skin where his lifeline sits among other small scars. Then, you pull your arms away from your body, moving to wrap them around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp as you tip your chin up to slant your mouth over his. Bucky returns your enthusiasm, tongue meeting yours sweetly, and then metal fingers are trailing up your side.

Bucky pulls away, searching your eyes for consent.

“Say you’re mine,” he begs. “Say you’re mine, baby, but if you do, I won’t be gentle.”

You look up at him from underneath your lashes, already heady with the feeling of Bucky wanting you, desiring every part of you.

“I’m yours,” you whisper, and the mood in the room shifts violently.

In an instant, Bucky pulls your arms away from where they’re wound around his neck and pins them over your head, metal fingers locked around both your wrists. It makes you arch into him and then his nose is tracing your sternum, a line down your center, cutting you in half until his flesh hand attaches to your breast and his lips find your nipple.

Just like he said, he’s not gentle, and it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, lids fluttering, as his teeth nip and tug at the delicate bud. His tongue follows the performance, sucking and soothing the pain away with sweet licks until he’s bored and moves onto the other one.

He lifts his head up to say, “Don’t move your hands,” and then his vibranium fingers find the hardened, sensitive nub and begin to twist and pull at it as his lips play with the other. The pleasure is overwhelming, the pain is a shocking reminder of who is playing your body like a symphony. You arch your breasts toward him, you roll your hips up to meet his bulge, you do anything you can to relieve the pressure that’s building in your core, screaming at you that you need his touch.

“Bucky,” you call out, moaning, struggling to keep your hands near the headboard.

“Do you need more, sweet girl?”

“Please,” you beg and press your center up to rub his cock. “It aches,” you whine.

“You gonna be a good girl for me? Let me touch you? Let me make the pain go away, baby?”

His words send new waves of pleasure through you, every part of you flushing with heat, your thighs squeezing together as if you can hide your leaking core from him.

“Yes, yes, yes, Bucky.”

He lays kisses on the underside of your breasts, just below them, like he’s following the lines of your ribs as he moves down toward your stomach—the part of you that you hate the most. You struggle underneath him.

“Not there,” you say as he places open-mouthed kisses on your soft belly. It tickles and makes you tremble and writhe.

He chuckles darkly. “I thought you said you were gonna be a good girl?” Both hands fall upon your hips, trapping you, fingers digging into your soft, pliant flesh as he nuzzles and licks and nips and kisses your stomach. You throw your head back, dizzy at the thought of what your body will look like tomorrow, purpled bruises made of passion.

“I’m a good girl,” you pant, mouth falling open as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Then let me touch you, doll. All of you—I want all of you.”

You hear the sound of fabric ripping before you feel the cool air rush over where your sleep shorts are no longer, Bucky tosses the tatters of fabric over the edge of the bed. He inhales sharply at the sight of you, hands roaming over the wide breadth of your hips as if he can’t even draw himself away, smoothing over your stretch marks with loving strokes until he finds the thick expanse of your bare thighs.

Bucky’s thumb brushes over your clothed cunt, panties drenched, and a strangled moan flies from your mouth as you press toward him, begging for more.

“This all for me?” he asks, voice gravelly. “My pretty baby is all wet like this for me? Christ, doll, you’re dripping.”

“Yes!” you shout as metal fingers hook around your underwear to rip them off, parting your lips to watch your slick seep from your aching core. “It’s all for you, Bucky, all of it.”

He groans at this. “Good girl,” he praises you. “That’s my good girl.”

And then he sinks two fingers into you, your juices soaking his hand almost immediately, and pumps into you like his life depends on it. The pleasure is too much, and when his thumb finds your clit and begins to slide over it, your knees try to close out of instinct, hips canting away from the pleasure. Bucky growls and wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you close, baring your naked body to him and him alone.

“You like that?” His voice is low, teasing, so fucking hot you can’t do anything but gasp for breath. “You’re sucking my fingers in, baby. So tight. Gotta work you open or you’re never gonna be able to take my cock, honey.”

You whimper his name, hips twitching under his grasp, crying out as every stroke of his fingers brings you closer and closer to the edge. When he adds a third, you think you might die from the mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls.

“You’re such a good girl,” he coos. “You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you? Been teasin’ me too long, and now you’ve gotta take it all, baby.”

He drives his fingers inside and hits the soft, spongy spot inside of you and it breaks you apart, tears you asunder, you’re arching off the bed and Bucky holds his thumb on your clit as you undulate upon his fingers. You can feel the gush of come that trickles down his thick fingers, and then he pulls out and places them in his mouth, licking your honey from the digits as the aftershocks of your orgasm wrack through you.

And when you can finally open your eyes, vision hazy, Bucky is looking at you with a mix of adoration and lust, licking your juice from his lips, grinning.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises again and the fire of pleasure and want and need ignites.

“Need you,” you whine, “right now, please, please sergeant.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “You don’t know what you do to me when you say that, doll.”

You definitely know what you do to him, and you’re gonna keep saying it and saying it until he’s yours, forever, until the end, until he’s buried so deep inside of you that you could die happy.

Staring up at him, your face flushed, hair sticking to your sweaty forehead and spread among the motel pillows, you think you might be in love with Bucky Barnes.

“Need me to fuck you, baby? Fuck, you drive me so fuckin’ crazy. I’m crazy about you, baby. You’re so goddamn perfect, so soft, so beautiful.” Bucky’s hands touch every part of you, even the places you hate. He finds the soft rolls of fat you try to work off at the gym, finds the squishy parts of your upper arms you think look unsightly when you’re hacking into HYDRA’s systems, fingers flying over the keyboard. He passes over your stubbly legs, a little sharp from three days of not shaving while on the mission, he caresses the dimples of cellulite in the backs of your thighs you hate so much.

And then he pushes the waistband of his sweats down and kicks his pants off, his cock exposed and standing attention all red at the tip and thick and hard and hot, and his hands slide underneath your thighs and press you up until you’re angled to take him.

He hesitates though, you feel it. And god, you’d do anything for him.

“Fuck me, sergeant,” you beg so prettily, and Bucky growls.

His hips snap into yours, cock sliding through your walls, parting you for him, splaying you open, stretching you, burning you, he’s everything. Bucky gives you one second to adjust and then he’s moving within you, the pain blurring into pleasure, your head thrown back, keening, moaning, crying out, nails sinking into his shoulders.

“Yes,” he hisses, sweat dripping down his temple as he rams into you over and over and over. “Give it to me, baby. You feel so good.”

“Harder,” you manage in between your shrieks and moans and Bucky answers your call with a response. He drags you toward him until your hips are attached to his, connected, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, the darkest parts of you, and you sob as the new angle makes you feel every single drag of his length. The head of his cock pierces you, smashing against the spot that makes you keen, and the pressure is building up within you again.

Bucky’s fingers find purchase in the plush flesh that sits on your hips, dragging down until he’s digging into your thick thighs, the sharp pain a beacon cutting through the haze of pleasure you’re locked in as he fucks you. It’s building, building, building, pressure, building.

“Come for me,” he snarls, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, like he can feel how close you are. And for the second time, your body is shattered and your orgasm breaks like a wave crashing against the shore, swallowing you whole until you’re lost in everything that is Bucky.

You scream his name, legs tightening around him like you’re trying to hold onto something, anything, and his words are lost on you.

“That’s it, good girl, that’s my good girl, coming so sweet around my cock, god you feel so good baby, so tight, such a good little girl.”

Bucky pulls out of you and you whine as your slick slips out of you, his cock coated in your essence, smearing it against your inner thighs. But it doesn’t last that long. With an immediacy that turns you on—he wants you, he wants you so bad—Bucky grabs you and flips you over, putting you on your hands and knees. His palm forces your head down, back bowing until you’re arched with your ass upturned, face smashed into the pillows.

“God,” he groans, “this fuckin’ ass of yours, baby. It gets me in so much trouble, d’ya know that? You don’t even know how many times I’ve caught myself watching the way your ass swings when you walk, like y’gotta purpose, like you don’t even know how fuckin’ sexy you are.”

Bucky’s hands round over your ass, caressing them gently, then grabbing fistfuls of your flesh until you’re crying out once again. It makes you lean back into him, trying to seek out the pleasure of him, wiggling as if you can entice him to stuff you with his cock again.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathes, and then he gives your right cheek a slap that makes you shriek, laying a kiss on it just after to soothe the pain.

“Please sergeant,” you gasp. “Please, please, I need you to fuck me again.”

“You want me to fuck you again?” he asks, smug. “I just fucked you ‘till you came around me, baby. You need me to do it again?”

It’s humiliating, but your words are jumbled as you cry and beg and cry and beg for him to take you again. You need him. You need him to fuck you. You need Bucky Barnes to do anything and everything to you.

He leans over you, breath hot on the back of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you now, baby, again and again and again.”

And then he slams back into you, the angle so much deeper this time, cock hitting the back of your cunt like he was made for you—like you were made for him.

You can’t speak, can’t think, can’t do anything but drool into the pillow as he takes you from behind like a wild animal. The sounds that pour from your open lips are heady and strung together, making no sense, but Bucky knows what you need. He fucks you raw, fucks you hard, fucks you until you know you’ll be covered in bruises in the morning. His metal arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you to him because you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up.

When his thrusts become sloppy, Bucky takes his vibranium hand and searches for your clit, making you cry out. It’s too much—the overstimulation. You’re too sensitive, too exhausted, too fucked out to take the pleasure anymore. But you clench around him, the sloppy sounds of your wet heat taking Bucky as he pounds into you making you flush, and the coil in your stomach is tightening.

“Give it to me,” Bucky commands, ramming into you impossibly harder, fingers sliding over your slick clit. “Give it to me, baby.”

You whine his name and Bucky’s free hand smacks your ass again, the sound of flesh on flesh mingling with the sound of him fucking you.

“You said you’d be good,” he grits through his teeth. “Are you a good girl?”

“Yes,” you pant.

“You’re a good girl?”

“Yes.”

“You’re my good girl?”

“Yes, sergeant, yes!”

“Then give it to me. Come, baby, come for me, one more time.”

And like that, you come apart, knees collapsing beneath you. Bucky catches you in his arms, thrusting once, twice more, and then buries himself so far inside of you that you barely feel his hot seed spurt inside of you, coating your insides.

You fall to the bed and Bucky follows, pulling out of you and wrapping his arms around you, pressing your back to his chest in the very position that started this all. He peppers kisses over the expanse of your shoulders, behind your ear, and then turns you until he can connect his lips to yours. Bucky kisses you like he means it, like he wants it to last forever.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers against your mouth, then he’s off the bed and headed for the bathroom. You lay there in bliss, staring up at the ceiling with lidded eyes, unable to think of anything but the pleasure and exhaustion that make up your body right now. When Bucky returns, he has a ratty washcloth in hand and he uses it to clean between your legs. It’s warm and he’s gentle, leaving you shivering when he’s finished.

When he climbs back in bed, he tucks a piece of your matted hair behind your ear, smiling at you.

“Such a good girl,” he says, one last time, and it makes you smile. “My good girl,” he murmurs as he kisses you again.

“Yours?” You look up at him, blinking innocently.

“Mine.” Bucky lays your head upon his bare chest. “All mine.”

You fall asleep before him to the sound of his breathing, sharing the same bed with your co-worker Bucky Barnes, who you really think you might be in love with, especially as he strokes your hair so softly until your eyes fall, heavy.

Taglist: @melancholic-metanoia @kitkatd7 @mimiswitchywrites @tripleyeeet @allidoiswritewritewrite

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #one shot #drabble #fic requests #inbox me to request a fic!#smut fic #thanks for supporting me!#divine masterlist

2K notes · View notes

january31st · 3 years

Text

In tune (Venable x reader): Chapter three

A/N: apparently I changed things so that the Stu stew happened before you and Timmy got to the outpost? Lol. And they play cards for no reason other than I miss playing cards with my friends and winning every time

Warnings: Nosebleeds.

|| Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 4 ||

~2000 words

The shock made you stand right up.

“Uh.. Good Morning Ms. Venable?” you said before feeling even more dizzy than before, roughly grabbing a chair to keep you steady.

“Good- Are-?” you alright was what she was probably going to say before she remembered who she was.

“Has something happened?” you asked, realising that her presence in your room could mean no good.

“I should be the one asking you that.” She said coldly, and with a lift of the eyebrow added “You’re bleeding”

“What?” you touched the back of your hand to your nose when you felt something hot there.

You turned away from her to go look for a towel, and then when it was firmly pressed to your face, you leaned against the bathroom door slightly, looking at her in question.

“I found this in the library” She said, turning the cover of a book toward you. “You might want to take a few notes and work on your terrible form. Also there’s a couple pieces.” Squinting at the book you made out the black and white of piano keys.

You stared at her for a bit, still in shock. A “Thank you” was all you could think of to say.

She left without adding anything else, and after a while, sitting on the floor again with the towel still pressed to your nose, you wondered if that could have just been your imagination.

Had she really come to your room before the wake-up call? You turned the book in your hands without really being able to read it.

Later on when a gray came to “wake you up” you had a glass of water and cleaned the dry blood off your face, and went to have breakfast with the others.

“Wow, you look even worse than usual Y/N” Coco exclaimed as you sat down with a grunt, already starting to feel sore from your workout.

“Thanks" you said with a fake smile.

Other than those incidents, the meals were the only times you ever stood close to Ms. Venable. Her presence had always made you uneasy, but recently you found it almost impossible to even look her way. It felt like the two of you shared a secret, one that your life depended on. Maybe it didn't really, but her authority on the outpost made it so you couldn't even mention her name when she wasn't around, too afraid that the walls themselves would tell her about your actions.

Right now as you stood a couple seats from her own, even though you didn't dare look at her, at times you swore you felt a laser burning into you, her gaze fixing itself upon you unapologetically.

You fucking bled in front of her. You with your supposedly perfect DNA, barely standing straight and bleeding. Was she going to question how you even got to the outpost? Surely she must have realised that you were never supposed to survive the apocalypse. Or was she going to ask what the hell you were doing? Could she think you were up to something shady?

You knew she hated your guts. How you stood out from the others, trying to be funny and nice. At least right now you hated yourself, your own cheeriness starting to annoy you. But then you broke the damn rules and after that she got the confirmation that you had to be an impostor. With your plate now empty, you stared at it. The bizarre spotlessness of a plate that had food in it making your insides turn, no bread crumbs, no grease from your bacon, nothing in it at all. It was only a matter of time before she ordered you to be killed surely. You survived the apocalypse to then be killed for doing so by accident, your existence as evident to whoever made it as the cube that hadn't stained your plate.

She had to hate you right?

But what was that book for? Why did she care to come to you? That was the detail that made the rest of it all blurry. It just didn't make any sense to you.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realise everyone was staring at you, and Timothy had his hand on your arm. You realised you were bleeding again. Nice, this time in front of everyone, so they all could witness that there really was something wrong with you.

"Oh my God are you dying Y/N?" Coco asked, as if you knew.

"Coco do you always have to be this insensitive?" said Dinah to your surprise, she didn't usually react to what Coco said.

"If I am, let's just hope it doesn’t take me too long so you don’t have to look at my ugly face anymore” you snapped back, getting to your feet before sarcastically excusing yourself from the table.

From the other side of the room you could still hear her say “Guys I know that the Stu incident was kinda traumatic but I wouldn’t mind having a bite of her." you speed walked to your room, electing to ignore her.

You got to your room, dirtied yet another towel with your blood and before you could sit down you heard Ms. Mead and The fist storming in.

Ms. Mead waved the radiation measuring device around you for a while before putting it away, an annoyed expression etched on her face, clearly disappointed that you hadn't set the thing off so she could punish you. Both of them got out of your room without saying a word to you.

"All clear." she said just outside your room, and she could only be talking to the boss herself.

Then you heard the shuffle of feet walking away, and the sound of her cane getting closer.

"If there is a matter of health you would like to tell me about, now is the time for it" she said, getting into your room for the second time that day.

"There isn't." you answered with a nasal voice. She made a disbelieving face at you and added "We have a stock of medicine in case someone were to need it" emphasising the someone.

"Well not that I would know, it's just a nosebleed, it'll go away."

If you didn't know better, you would say she looked concerned. The barely noticeable way she tapped her finger to the head of her cane, her jaw tense and eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. When she didn't move from her spot you said "I'm fine, I'm not radioactive and I'm not dying."

The mixture of your tiredness, annoyed state and general bad mood made you blurt what came after without thinking twice.

“And what would any of you assholes care if I died? Means more food for you, whatever way that might be.”

“Are you done Y/N?” she asked simply, her calmness even scarier than her usual anger, and the use of your first name throwing you off.

But this wasn’t actually a moment of quiet before the storm, because somehow there wasn’t one. Her chest was falling and rising with more effort than it was supposed to, and her eyes were fixed on you with the glow of an old fire, sad and tired.

“We don’t want you dead.” she paused, shielding her eyes again, taking a breath to hide the display she had just offered you.

Everything she said and did worked only to confuse you. Try as you might, there was no way of understanding her. She scared you to your bones and yet you couldn’t help but cling to the little spots where she let some niceness show through.

“I decided to workout before the book thing?” you admitted, trying not to say anything someone could overhear and twist up. “As I’ve said before, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, so I thought that maybe if I got myself tired enough it would be easier? I might have pushed myself a bit too much, that’s why this happened.” you pointed at the towel you were holding with the other hand.

You were starting to regret your little rant before she said “If that is the case, then I suppose I could allow you to practise your technique on the piano, even after hours. If that’s something that could help.”

Was she actually being kinda nice? On every single one of your encounters you had made a fool of yourself, never knowing what to say to her, there was no reason she should be acting this understanding with you. You still didn’t know what to say this time, but with your eyebrows pushed together you fished for words.

“Are you serious?”

“If your little sleep deprived brain can’t understand what I’m saying or maybe you don’t want to, then by all means, don’t.”

“No no no, yes, I do want it, thank you I-”

“So that will be that.” She interrupted you, then tapped her cane, turned around and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Seriously there's no way you're not cheating Y/N!" Said Mr. Gallant.

"She just knows her cards dear, you don't have to be a sore loser about it." Evie answered, the compliments from these people never failing to surprise you

"Look, I'm sorry that I've been the president for the last like ten rounds? And it's not on me that you have been the scum for half of it." you said, shuffling the cards and then giving them to André on your right to deal.

"Alright, how about we change the game to something else? Spades?" said Dinah.

You nodded before Gallant threw his head back and said "She'll win whatever game it is we play, she's like an old mafia dude who owns a chain of casinos. Not even worth it…."

And the bell rang for dinner, Ms. Venable holding it with her free hand. You didn't hear her coming in, so she probably stood in the room for a while, not getting the immediate attention she usually does because this time everyone was busy with the end of the game and laughing at Gallant's complaints.

Everyone went on to the dining room while you stood behind, putting the cards back in their box. You were making your way to the shelf where the cards were stored before Mallory stopped you “I’ll take care of those” then smiled at you, not before shooting a glance at the door.

“It’s like two steps away but sure, thank you sweetie.” you made your way out, stopping before Ms. Venable, who was blocking the way purposefully. She tapped her cane twice, a clear instruction apparently because you heard Mallory’s hurried footsteps up the spiral staircase and away, leaving the two of you alone again.

“I sincerely hope you haven’t forgotten the color you’re wearing Ms. Y/L/N, or your privileges. Or the house rules for that matter. The grays are only alive to work, but you aren’t. Please don’t spit into the golden plate that the Cooperative has so kindly placed in front of you.”

She then took another step closer, uncomfortably so and added: “And it also appears as though you either magically remembered how sleeping works, or you just, once again, took an offer you don’t deserve and did with it as you pleased.”

She knows. And you know she knows that you’re not supposed to be there. You felt your neck get hotter, and though the dizziness disappeared after that night and stayed gone over the past couple of days, it was starting to come right back. Only it wasn’t the same light headed feeling, this time it was your very soul spinning, distressed.

“I’ve actually slept… I- because I didn’t feel well, I guess, I just dozed off.”

She smiled that cynical smile of hers and with her face very close to yours she whispered “I am really hoping that your dozing off happened in your room and without company, because you know very well what happens otherwise. And wouldn’t that just be a shame? Hm, sweetie?”

Ten seconds ago you were scared of her, but her implications made you forget that as fast as you heard her say them. You took a step back so she could see your face.

“Are you serious? You saw me that morning! I could barely stand and you think I screwed someone?” you exhaled in frustration and kept eye contact.

She lifted her chin with a satisfied smile and with a tap of her cane said “Let us not be too late for dinner:”

if you want to be added to a taglist for this series, feel free to reach out in whatever way you prefer :)

62 notes · View notes

mellohidisc · 3 years

Text

╰ ☆ ╮𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 - eggs and toast ✰⋆

1.3k w𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 | 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶...𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵

I woke up screaming, feeling myself fall off the couch and onto the hard floor. I groaned in agony, rubbing my poor shoulder in pain. Tommy’s cackle boomed through the room. Fucking asshole. Fluttering my eyes open, I saw a grinning boy pushing his fluffy blonde hair out of his face. I shut my eyes quickly.

“You’re ugly get out of my face.” I say harshly, placing my arms beside me in order to push myself up off the floor. Tommy stood up straight, or as straight as he could still chuckling.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the couch, or should I say floor.” He clenched his teeth, trying to watch my reaction before he laughed.

Finally getting myself off the floor, I sat myself down onto the couch. I placed my pounding head into my hands, swearing under my breath. Fucking idiot child. I can’t stand him sometimes.

“What the hell do you want and is it important enough for you to push me off the couch?”

“Hey! I didn’t push you, you pushed yourself all I did was shake your arm.” He said, walking his lanky self over to the couch and sitting down next to me. I could sense his grinning, as if he was trying to stifle his laughter.

“Anyways, unlike you I’m considerate and thought we could cook breakfast or something as a thank you?’

Removing my hands from my head, I turned and looked at Tommy. He is such an interesting guy. Sometimes he’s screaming and swearing at you, and other days he gets like this, caring and compassionate. He really is a sweetheart, even if he got on my nerve’s majority of the time.

“Did you buy anything to make?”

“Oh uh…well uh- “

“So, no?” I smiled; he had the spirt not the execution.

“Well hell, I can’t be perfect. Someone’s got to come up with the ideas around here.” He said jokingly.

I laughed, standing up from the couch.

“Come one child. Im sure they have eggs and toast or something.”

Making our way to the kitchen, we noticed how bare bones it really was. There weren’t many kitchen appliances on the counters or even utensils. I sighed, I guess that is what happens when only men live in a house, but I would think maybe one of the men in this house would be smart enough to have something. At least there was a toaster on the counter, a package of bread next to it.

Tommy opened the fridge and made a face.

“What? What is it?” I say curiously, dipping under Tommy’s arm to see what was in the fridge.

“Oh you got to be kidding me.”

In the fridge there was a carton of eggs, diet coke, and a couple of oranges. Tommy and I looked at each other, back at the fridge, and back at each other shaking our heads.

I reached in and grabbed the carton of eggs, along side the oranges. Telling Tommy to shut the door I laid the food onto the counter. I braced myself opening the egg carton, sighing in relief. Eight eggs. Two for me, Two for Tommy, Two for Will and Two for David. I turned my head over, to see Tommy opening the bag of bread.

“Make sure to make eight pieces.” You reminded him.

“I know how to count woman. I should be ordering you around, this was my idea after all.”

“You don’t even know how to cook.”

“I so do.” He scoffed, walking over me to pull my hair. I swatted his hand away, making a face.

“We’ll see how well you do with the toast.” I shunned him away back to his counter. Opening the cabinet under the stove I saw a few pans and pots. I must give them credit; more than I thought they would have. I pulled out a medium sized pan and placed it on the stove top. I walked around opening all the upper cabinets till I found cooking spray, closing the cabinet.

“Jesus Christ lady! Are you trying to wake them up? Tommy scolded, plopping down the first set of toast.

“Trust me your obnoxious laughter would have woke them up.”

I spray the pan down, turning the burner on. It was the kind of burner that had spiral coils, not a flat top. I decided to make the eggs over medium since we were having toast. I cracked two eggs into the pan, being careful to not break the yok. I looked through the drawers to find a spatula, which luckily I did. I made my attention over to the oranges, pealing the skin while watching the eggs. I heard the toaster pop.

Tommy pulled down some plates from above and place the toast on them smiling.

“I am so fucking cool look at me go!”

I peered over and laughed.

“Tommy they look almost burnt.”

“They so aren’t.”

“Look at them! What do you mean they aren’t?’

“You’re just jealous that I’m Wilbur’s favorite.”

I rolled my eyes, watching him put down the last of the toast. I placed the oranges down, putting my full attention back onto the eggs and flipping them over. I sniffed the air. Weird.

“Tommy do you smell that?” I question.

“Funny joke.” He said in a monotone voice.

“No I’m serious I swear something sm-“

The smoke alarms blared rapidly, making you cover your ears. Tommy looks around frantically and looks down at the toast. It wasn’t burning. I looked down at the eggs, they were fine also.

What the fuck.

Wilburs bedroom door opened, he walked out looking at us. His hair was a mess, and you could see the sleep on his face.

“What the hell are you guys fucking doing!?”

Once he realized what was happening, he speed walked into the kitchen and grabbed a towel.

“Turn off the burner y/n.” He scolded, making me feel weak. He was always super kind, so I didn’t take it personal, but Wilbur yelling was scary. I reached over, pulling the pan off the burner and turned it off. Wilbur waved the rag in front of the smoke alarm, trying to make it stop.

Finally, it did.

Tommy stood beside me as Wilbur glared us down. Tommy raised and pointed his arm at me.

“Hey, it was her idea.”

My mouth gaped open. I grabbed Tommy’s ear, and pulled him down to my level, noises of pain leaving his mouth.

“Owe! Fuck y/n stop it!!!” He whined.

“Stop being a bitch boy.” I retorted.

Wilbur placed the towel down on the counter, walking into the kitchen. He noticed the toast, and the eggs. He smiled.

“Let the child go.”

I released Tommy, giving him one good smack.

“We’re you guys cooking breakfast.”

“Yeah, it was Tommy’s idea, as a thank you for letting us visit and stay in your home.”

Wilbur’s expression became soft, his cheeks red and a pout arose on his lips.

“You guys didn’t have to do that. You know you’re welcomed here anytime.”

“Thanks, Will.” I smiled brightly.

I looked at the burner.

“What do you think caused the alarms to go off? Nothing was burning.” I questioned. Wilbur walked over towards me, looking at the burner as well. I heard him click his tongue.

“It’s because the burner was dirty on the inside.”

“Huh?”

“The burner. Since its one of those spiral ones food gets in it a lot. When you turn the burner on if the food is still there it starts to burn.” Wilbur pointed out, showing me the food crumbs that were black now.

“Nice going idiot and you said I couldn’t cook.” Tommy said proudly. I glared at him.

“Wilbur please let me hit him.”

“Not if I don’t get to hit him first.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #wilbur fluff #tommy fluff #mcyt imagine #wilbur imagine #tommy imagine #wilbur x reader #tommy x reader #dream smp fluff

124 notes · View notes

physicalturian · 3 years

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 2

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5016 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Flirting … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

-- Part 1 -

The heat of two bodies against one another. Skin upon skin, fingers grazing tenderly. Hands gripping suddenly, forcefully yet securely. I am holding onto dear life on his broad shoulders. My nails digging inside the skin. It makes him grunt in pleasure. I can’t hear it over my own sound of pleasure. My head lolls back, my neck is being attacked. Bites, kisses and words against it. My entire body is aflame. I’m now holding onto the bed head. I’m not surrounded by darkness anymore.

The landscape has changed, I’m not on my bed. It’s a hospital bed. No one is around, someone is on top of me, I can’t see their face. But it feels good. Hot breath against my skin, soft hands on my hips. The increasing pressure inside-

“Hey wake up! If you want to ride with me to campus, you better get your ass out of bed.” I was startled awake by one of my roommates who seemed on edge. From what my brain understood, I was late and from the look on her face, she was pissed.

Squinting my eyes at the sudden light from her brusque action of opening the curtains, I groaned. Her heels hitting the floor made my ears ring, it was too much too quickly but I wasn’t going to say anything. The ginger girl was stopped dead in her track by a hand on her shoulder, a softer voice spoke, “Come on Nami, look at her. Clearly, she went to sleep late again, give her some time to clear her head.” Robin said a lot calmer. With a small smile, she gave me a nod and pushed Nami out of the room.

“You have ten minutes at best, hurry up. She has plans today.”

“And I am hungry, could you make me a sandwich while I get dressed Robin?” I asked with the softest pleading eyes I could manage at this hour. She smiled knowingly in return and nodded, but did not leave until she added, “It’s the last time you leave crumbs on the counter from your midnight snacks.”

With wide eyes, I grimaced and nodded. It made her chuckle as she closed the door behind herself and left without a word.

The moment I was left alone, I remembered the dream I was having and hurriedly got out of bed. “Nasty brain, naughty.” I mumbled while undressing. Sure, erotic dreams weren’t bad, but the fact that I had dreamt about that stranger was something entirely new. Maybe it was to be expected if we interacted more like we did last night, if we had more sessions like last night’s one. Damn, am I that needy for a good fuck? Is this what I’ve become? I thought with a huff.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my phone and all that I needed for class before leaving the room. On my way out I saw the notification that had popped on my screen, a message from the doctor but it was one from last night.

HandSurgeon: I’ll allow you to call me doc, just because my username is not very adequate when shortened. But watch it.

Looking at it I laughed and wrote back, albeit later than when he had sent his message.

Edelweiss: Good morning to you too, doc. Hope you were able to catch some z’s, because of you I almost missed my class.

Edelweiss: kidding, it’s entire my fault but I want to blame it on you for the fun.

I shoved my phone in my pocket when I heard my two friends’ voices, telling me I needed to hurry and hurry I did. I grabbed the sandwich Robin handed me and thanked her with all my heart, telling her I’d make the food tonight but she told me she’d rather not die of food poisoning at a young age.

“Come on, I can make some things! We’ll order in, then?” I said, leaning on the counter with a grin as I took a bite of the food.

“Careful, Nami has invited her best friend tonight. He’s constantly famished, and eats a large amount of food so I’ll take you up on that offer another day. Now off you go, Nami’s waiting in her car.”

Giving her a thumbs up I leaned off the counter and pondered, “So Nami’s cooking tonight? I see why she’s stressed out now. Anyone else coming by?” I asked quickly. Robin chuckled elegantly, her back leaning against the counter, in front of me, with her arms crossed over her chest. “He might bring one of his friends, but it all depends on his schedule. Nothing definitive yes. Now off you go!” She shooed me, smiling. Most of her classes were in the evening, and yet she woke up that early every day.

It was also fascinating how, even when in her pajamas she looked so dignified.

Without losing any more time, I waved her goodbye and rushed down all the flight of stairs to jump into Nami’s car. “Good morning-“ I closed my mouth when she gestured for me to shut up, pointing at her ear and at the board. Looking at the screen, she was on a call with someone but started the car without another word. I could only hear her replies, but tried not to eavesdrop. To stop myself from falling asleep, I took my phone once more and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

I hated how it sent excitement coursing through my body. Was I remembering the thrill of last night or was I that interested in talking to him? I did not ponder the question longer and opened the app.

HandSurgeon: Good morning Edelweiss. Are you feeling good? Physically.

HandSurgeon: We’ve barely done anything. But don’t worry, you’ll blame me later when we’ll have more fun.

Edelweiss: I’m great, a bit sore but that’s on me.

Edelweiss: don’t threaten me with a good time 😩, you can’t start the horny talk this early in the morning. How do you expect me to focus during my classes?

HandSurgeon: Haha, I’ll stop. Do you have time to talk?

Edelweiss: ominous much? But yes, I do have time to talk. Something on your mind?

A knot formed in my stomach, I started to worry he’d say we couldn’t keep doing this. Would it be that bad? We’d known each other for so little time, it’s not like I couldn’t find someone else to fuck.

I huffed at my own thought, I could find someone else but did they have HandSurgeon’s charisma? Unfortunately, no, I was bound to be horny for a strong doctor that I did not even know the face of.

HandSurgeon: I got a bit too excited last night, I forgot to mention the most important info.

HandSurgeon: Those being: we can stop whenever you’d like. We can try whatever you feel comfortable trying. If you said you were ready to do something, but in the end feel like you can’t do it: tell me. You can change your mind, it works the other way around, too. You can say you want to try something even though you were against it at first.

HandSurgeon: I won’t always be up to… play but I will be willing to help you if you ask nicely. And if I’m awake.

HandSurgeon: Finally, always call me sir, during our sessions.

I hid the relief I fell in real life, when I read all his messages. I did not want Nami to ask me what was wrong, nor who I was texting, but it was hard to hide the satisfied smile on my lips. Pursing my lips, I thought of what to answer without looking too desperate.

Even with the thought put into it, I read my message over a few times and desperation dripped out of it.

Edelweiss: you scared me, I thought you were going to just disappear or something. I’m good with all of this. If I can add one, be honest with me? Like, uh…

Edelweiss: If I’m being too pushy, but you’re busy, tell me, I’ll calm down haha.

Edelweiss: So… I agree to the terms, sir.

I saw him type, then stop. Then type again, before stopping again. Had I said something bad? I was going to put my phone away when he replied.

HandSurgeon: Good girl.

HandSurgeon: Now, I won’t be able to play tonight, but I’ll be free to text if you’d like.

HandSurgeon: It’ll give you time to rest, that way we’ll fuck you good once you’re feeling better.

I choked on my saliva. Why was he this casual saying things like this?

Edelweiss: I-

Edelweiss: I said don’t get me horny, the audacity you have to be that good with your words.

Edelweiss: I’ll be busy tonight too, but I’ll text you if it gets a bit boring.

Edelweiss: Also, are you not like… cutting people open or something? Why would you be awake this early with how late you went to sleep?

HandSurgeon: It’s cute how easy it is to get you flustered. Very interesting too. But I’ll stop for now.

HandSurgeon: Since you’re curious, I’m in bed. I have to meet with my intern in an hour, he’s very eager to learn.

HandSurgeon: Just like you, but maybe I find one more satisfying than the other 😉

Staring at the screen, I hesitated and felt my cheeks heat up. I wanted to be horny and ask him for a picture, or be funny and ask him for a picture. Both could work together, but should I flirt or ask in the most stupid way possible? I was curious if he’d be willing to send anything, I’m sure it’d make my day if he did send me a picture but I did not want him to force him either. You can’t force a dom to do shit, idiot, my common sense told me.

Edelweiss: send pic or fake.

HandSurgeon: Of my intern?

Good fucking lord, I’m an idiot. I typed back quickly, trying to fix my stupidity.

Edelweiss: of you in bed.

Edelweiss: maybe I’m asking for a nude? 🤔

HandSurgeon: Are you, now? What sparked that need? Do tell me. I’ll consider.

Edelweiss: I’m curious, and I wonder if you sleep dressed or not 😳

Hit and run. That’s all I could call what I had done. I dropped that message then locked my screen and stared straight ahead, regretting sending it. I couldn’t delete it since he had probably seen in, considering we were both online at the same time. We were both staring at the conversation, craving for more, awaiting the other’s reply to weight our own answer in return.

Covering my mouth with my hand, I rested my elbow on the small space by the window and felt my heart beat faster. I shouldn’t feel like that, I had literally fucked myself to his guidance hours ago. And yet, there was this stressed from asking him nudes. I mean, I hadn’t asked a dick pic per say… If he slept in pajamas it clearly wouldn’t be a nude, so…

My phone vibrated in my hand, I looked down so quickly my head slipped off my hand and hit the window with a thud. “Are you good? You look nervous, do you have a final today or…” I heard Nami ask. She threw me a side glance but kept her gaze focused on the road.

I was so focused on my own conversation; I had not realized she was done with her call. Had she been watching all of my reaction since then? No… no, probably not.

“I’m good, just need a bit of sugar.” I paused and continued casually, “Robin told me Luffy’s inviting someone tonight? Are you cooking or are you planning on ordering? They better pay their own shit, if we order in.” I grumbled, hoping to make her drop the subject.

I needed to stay focus on what she was saying but my brain was drifting to the pending message on Discord. Fortunately, my distraction worked and she replied, “If he’s coming, I’ll make him pay the entire orders.” She scoffed as she pulled up into the parking, her eyes still focused in front of her. “He owes me, and since it’s last minute, I’ll use that against him to not pay my food.” She added. I laughed at her logic, was it really last minute if she knew he was coming since this morning? Shaking my head, I unlocked my phone and opened the text.

HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

While I masked my reaction, my eyes sure widened for the span of a second. On that very screen was a picture of the doctor, or more precisely, his crotch covered with just a thin blanket covering it. I could see the shape of his cock, and it made it more sinful than a full dick pic. The v shape of his lower stomach, along with the happy trail, made the whole thing hotter than it was supposed to be. Is this for fucking real? Thinking for a second it might be a catfish, I finally looked at the rest of the pic and saw a badly torn piece of paper with the word ‘Edelweiss’ scribbled badly on it.

“Damn, who’s is this? Girl, you tapping that?” I quickly turned my phone face down and looked at Nami with what probably looked like guilt. “What? No. I’m on Twitter. I don’t have time to literally fuck around, too busy.” I stated, putting my hand on the door handle as I took hold of my bag.

She was about to say something else, but we spoke at the same time and she let me talk. “What time do you finish? I’ll be done around 5 pm if you’re still there.” I stepped outside the car and slammed it shut, waiting for my ginger friend to join me.

“Around that time too, we’ll head right back home after. I think Luffy and his annoying friend will already be there. I’ll sent you the menu, so that you can pick from it.” She then hurried off when she saw one of her classmates waving her over.

I let out a sigh and looked back at my phone, typing back while marching towards my class.

Edelweiss: Are you kidding me? Dude…

HandSurgeon: I’d prefer you call me doc than dude. Although sir is the most appealing… But what’s wrong?

Edelweiss: You’re telling me, someone that hot is on weird websites when I’m sure anyone would want to fuck you. No offense, but you’re probably very hot, so why are you like… domming online? Instead of your own pretty little sub in real life? Not that I’m complaining! I like it.

HandSurgeon: Schedule is shit. And I’ve been told I’m bitter. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it, I’ll get dressed now. You focus on your class.

Edelweiss: Oh I am definitely enjoying it, a lot.

Edelweiss: by the way, I came to a realization this morning…

Then we sent a message at the same time, I laughed nervously.

HandSurgeon: So you think of me when you sleep? Very cute.

Edelweiss: my brain was slow last night, but like. Did you sext me while in your office?

Edelweiss: maybe I did think of you in my sleep, but I don’t think we need to talk about that, my question is definitely more important.

I almost tripped over nothing, from looking at my phone instead of the path but I managed to make my way to class without a hitch. Throwing my bag over the desk, I sat down and waited for my professor. Checking Discord once more,

HandSurgeon: I did. It’ll happen a lot too.

Edelweiss: damn that means no sexy live for you

I replied without thinking. The loudest sigh escaped my lips, what even did I mean by that? Was I really considering giving him a show? What was I expecting from telling him that? I mean sure, if time goes on and I get more comfortable it could be fun…

HandSurgeon: If that day comes, I’ll be sure to get my earphones. I’m sure you’d actually enjoy the thrill of showing yourself off. Knowing full well I’m watching, maybe with a hand in my pants, ordering you around. There will be a “sexy live”, if you’re comfortable enough… The fact that I’m in my office only adds to the charm. Wouldn’t you say?

I blinked a few times, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I typed something then deleted it. I paused and typed again, before deleting it once more. Was he wrong? It was very exciting, just thinking about it. Even more so knowing he was willing to be in that situation, at his desk, looking at me getting off under his command. But also, even more knowing he’d be at his work place, where anyone could walk in on him being in such an embarrassing situation.

HandSurgeon: It looks like you’re speechless. But do answer me, would you get off on knowing someone could walk in? Knowing we could get caught, knowing they could see you fucking yourself on screen just for me. Just to please me. They wouldn’t know it’s you, but you’d know. My good girl fucking herself, showing off her perfectly fuckable body just for me.

I let my head fall back against the seat and took a deep breath. I felt suddenly self-conscious, even though I knew no one knew what was going on, on my screen. And yet, I had to look around to make sure before typing with a lot of hesitance. He hit the spot, I hated how right he was. But I replied in all honesty.

Edelweiss: …

Edelweiss: yes…

Edelweiss: I’d like that…. sir…

Edelweiss: I need to focus on my class, but now I don’t know if I’ll be able since you just went off and made me very much distracted now.

HandSurgeon: My hand slipped.

Edelweiss: the a u d a c i t y, then do tell me where it’ll slip next time 😉

Edelweiss: ok, no. that was bad. I’m trying, I’m not as good as you okay?

HandSurgeon: I think it’s a conversation best kept for late hours, wouldn’t you say?

HandSurgeon: I have to go. Focus on your class, or think of where you’d like my hands to go. The choice is yours, Edelweiss.

HandSurgeon: [send an attachment]

There it was, another picture of him. This time it was his gloved hand gripping the fabric around his thigh tightly, the sleeve of his long shirt was slightly risen. I could catch a glimpse of the hair on his arm but focused on the length of his slender fingers. Of the way his fingertips were digging in his pants, of the lines his muscles drew on the back of his hand and maybe of, once again, the fact that he was sitting at his desk. Instead of replying, I took it in and locked my screen to try and focus on the class.

I never thought I’d have a medical kink, but my thought would sometimes drift off, imagining him in his full surgeon outfit. Sitting on his chair, legs spread open while looking at me with a smirk. What it’d look like, I do not know, but I could only imagine the sultry gaze he could give me while in that position. He’d pat his thigh for me to come over and let me ride it- Shaking the thoughts away, I told myself to focus, and tried my best to keep up to that promise.

The rest of the day, I kept my hands off my phone the best I could. I wanted to keep texting HandSurgeon and have some fun, tease him the way he was teasing me but I did not know how to push his buttons. Suddenly I realized I had never asked what were his kinks. By default, being in control must have been one of them, but I was curious as of what else he enjoyed. I made a mental note to ask him next time we talked, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, it all depended on tonight’s fun.

Right, tonight… I don’t even know who’s the guy that’s coming over. Nami said that Luffy’s friend was annoying but maybe she was a bit biased since she was easily frustrated, which was ironic considering her best friend was the most tiring person ever. At some point during the day, she sent me a text with the name of the restaurant we were ordering at and told me to pick whatever I wanted.

Seeing the prices, I had to make sure she had sent me the right restaurant and sent her a text asking if it was alright. Her reply was, “I told you he owed me, he said to choose whatever restaurant I wanted. And I did. He has the money, might as well use it.”

I winced at her words and sent her my choice with a lot of reticence, adding, “If I get yelled that for picking something, even though I don’t know the guy, you’ll pay for my food.” She was quick to reply and told me it’ll be okay. “The dude might bitch and moan about it but he’ll eventually accept it” were her words. I don’t really know if it had helped or worsened my anxiety but I just let her do her thing and went on with the rest of my day without a hitch.

I was able to focus on my classes and assignments after a while, when my brain finally decided to shove the whole HandSurgeon conversation in the back of my head.

The day came to an end right on time. I had done my fair share of thinking for the day and needed a break. Knowing a nice warm meal was waiting for me at my apartment only made things ten times better. I rushed out of my last class with haste, almost bumping into other people and dropping my phone but I caught it before anything dramatic could happen.

When I stepped outside, I was met with a drizzle and had to walk faster to Nami’s car. I was lucky to see she was already there, waiting inside of it with music playing loudly. She was trying to fix her hair the best she could, and gave up when it looked half-decent. A startled gasp escaped her lips when I opened the car door and slipped inside, greeting her, out of breath.

“You scared me!” She gasped, a hand on her chest.

“Is it my fault? You’re on edge, not me.” I huffed, throwing my bag in the back of the car, making the ginger groan when she received a few droplets on her clothes. Apologizing, I buckled my seatbelt and we drove back home in a good mood. Food always lifted spirits, even more so after a draining day. On our way home, Nami started renting on how I will have to keep Luffy’s friend away from her because she couldn’t handle his attitude.

I did not dare ask her what happened but listened carefully. She did not give me any useful information about him, only telling me he was “arrogant, annoying, he’s bitchy and way too cocky because of his job.” I winced and was expecting the worst, probably a business man that was too proud of making money or a politician. No, no… Luffy would never befriend people like that, right?

All kind of ideas simmered in my head until we reached our apartment. I don’t know why, but I was going to knock. I quickly caught myself and unlocked the door, hanging my coat in the entrance as I took off my shoes. “Robin? Have they arrived yet-“ I was cut off when the excited black-haired man came rushing in and wrapped his arms around both Nami and I. She laughed and hugged him back, while I pushed him away, smiling softly. “Hello Luffy, let me get changed first? I smell like a wet dog.” I scoffed.

He agreed and pulled Nami to the side, bringing her to the living room. I did not look their way and instead went back to my room to get changed. Maybe I could catch him before he went to his evening activity? I kind of wanted to have a bit of fun before going back to eat… But then again, did I have time? Humming pensively, I locked my door and stripped naked then pulled out my phone.

Edelweiss: Good evening, can I suggest something? I want to make my evening more fun… maybe have something to look forward to this evening…

I waited a moment, sitting on my desk chair completely naked. It was frisky and I felt well… naked. Was it too bold? Should I just delete the message and get dressed? I did not have time to ponder longer that the little dot next to his name turned green. He had answered.

HandSurgeon: What do you suggest? I’m all ears.

Edelweiss: let’s say… I wanted to keep something inside me the entire evening… like an egg, you know those vibrating egg but like, not turned on because that’d be too much.

Edelweiss: here, this:

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

I made sure we could see my lower body, the hand holding the toy was right above my thighs and I angled it so he could see most of it. When I sent the picture, I felt the pressure in my stomach grow, maybe he’d refuse and I was getting excited over nothing.

HandSurgeon: I won’t be able to guide you, gorgeous.

HandSurgeon: But… I think it’s a great idea. Although, I need to be sure you’re not too sore to have some fun tonight.

Edelweiss: I’m good, I’m great. Don’t worry, I can definitely handle this. I mean, if you want to, sir.

HandSurgeon: The eagerness ever so present, you’re being very good asking for it. I would hate to punish you.

HandSurgeon: Let’s do it, if you think you can’t take it anymore send me a message and take it out.

HandSurgeon: But I’m sure a good girl like you could take it entire night, wouldn’t you agree?

My answer was to send him a picture of the toy inside me, my free hand gripping my thigh while spreading them wider.

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

HandSurgeon: Fuck. A warning next time. I’m not against more pictures, but let me remind you I’m not alone tonight.

HandSurgeon: Or is it what you’re looking for? You want to show off to me, but also to them? The odds of the people here looking at my phone are low, but they’re not null. That’s what gets you off.

I was going to reply but he sent another message that sent something coursing straight between my legs. The throb I managed to numb after this morning’s talk came back without much efforts needed.

HandSurgeon: Maybe to calm that eagerness, we should turn it on? Have you dripping wet for tonight? Would that help with how needy you’re feeling right now? You’d be surrounded by, let’s say your friends. But your thoughts would be nowhere near that, no.

HandSurgeon: You’ll be thinking of me. Of what I’d do to you tonight, looking forward to obey. To be on your knees, in your bed, expectant in front of your screen. Like a desperate girl, pleading for some relief.

My hand slipped on my desk and grabbed the little remote, pressing it to turn the toy on. I let out a shaky breath at the sensation, spread my legs wider to try to press it deeper but finding my attempt fruitless.

HandSurgeon: Get dressed, and go join your friends. I’ll be available to talk in a few.

HandSurgeon: But don’t get too greedy. If you think you’re getting close, you turn it off. I want you begging for an orgasm tonight. Are we good?

Edelweiss: Yes sir. More than good.

Edelweiss: Maybe… maybe I could call you, no video, to do it…

He’ll ask for me to be precise. But I felt like my pride would take a hit if I wrote it down, did I want to beg? I gave it a thought while getting dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. Usually I wouldn’t want to beg, but it felt different here. Maybe I could use this moment to find out more about him, his tastes… his kink.

HandSurgeon: “It”?

Edelweiss: Beg. You want me to beg, I am suggesting to do it on a call. That’s what you want right? You get off on being in a position of power but what else do you like?

HandSurgeon: I’ll have you begging, no matter what. That’s the fun, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now you’re curious about what I like? We’ll talk about it after tonight’s session, right now I have to go. Have fun, be good.

I thought it was going to be child’s play. The vibrations weren’t that strong, and it’s not like there was going to be a lot of things that’d turn me on during a friend gathering. Right? Right. It’s what I thought until I joined everyone in the living room and there stood a definition of handsome. I don’t know what Nami said about him but I’m sure she never mentioned how hot he was.

Nami, Luffy and Robin were sitting on the ground by the low table. They were taking the boxes of food from the bags and giving them to everyone. What caught my eyes was the man sitting in the couch, almost lazily. He was looking at the three people with something close to boredom, his arms spread on the back of the couch.

Suddenly I regret trying to make my evening more fun… Or did I? I’d have to see how the evening go to make an opinion on being in the company of such a beautiful man when I had my own hardship going.

[Part 3]

#trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #law one piece #physicalturian #writer #ao3 writing #ao3 writer #writing #fanfiction #wop #words of pleasure

110 notes · View notes

baby-cloud00 · 3 years

Text

AOT ICKS/HEADCANONS

because I said so.

A lot of these apply to a modern context, but take them as you will!

Sasha never cleans her mouth or fingers properly so there's always some sort of crumb or grease there

Ymir is not discreet AT ALL, if an old person falls in front of her, she's on the floor with them laughing, it's so embarrassing

Erwin has left the hub open on his laptop or phone on multiple occasions

He just forgets it's there; knows how to get there and that's about it

Marco constantly has paint or anything artsy on his hands, varying from graphite from pencils to marker

Sometimes leaves pencil smudges on papers from his fingers

Reiner is the one guy to lay explosive diarrhea in public restrooms

The stench suffocates the store, i wouldn't be surprised if he left skid marks on the toilet seat

Workers need a hazmat suit before they can even try to go in there

Hey, but when you gotta go, you gotta go

Hange most definitely has walked around all day with a piece of toilet paper stuck to her shoe without even noticing

Hange also has enough dandruff to cause a blizzard in Texas

It's probably due to the fact they wash their hair every 5 days or so but they really don't care

Oh, and they have greasy glasses too

Speaking about greasy, Connie's keyboard is SLIPPERY with the stuff

Mans has crumbs stuck in the cracks and everything

Connie tries his best but he really doesn't clean up well back there

I can imagine young Annie showing up to school in eyeliner thicker than Erwin's eyebrows

She hissed at people in the hallways

Mikasa acts like a pick me girl with Eren.

EW I HATED WRITING THAT

But seriously, she would do ANYTHING for his attention

Armin's nose is constantly runny, no matter how much tissue he uses

His books probably have food stains on them

Bertholdt constantly has eye boogies

Has scratched his balls in public on multiple occasions

Continuing with boogies, the crevices in Jean's chairs are FILLED with them

He might even have a wall dedicated to them too

Zeke has had lice for AGES but he refuses to do anything about it

"Oh, the bugs? They're my little friends. They make tasty snacks, too."

Pieck was a horse girl

She crawls up the stairs on all fours in the weirdest way possible

Porco uses 2 bottles of hair gel a day to get the perfect slickback

Thinks he's in a 50's musical and dances around the hallway with his leather jacket pointing finger guns at every girl in sight

When he's proven wrong in an arguement, he goes straight to insults

Eren doesn't shower for weeks on end even when he works out

Never lifted the toilet seat as a child, probably didn't flush either

Krista had a VSCO girl phase

Only wrote with glitter pens and glitter pens only for a majority of her childhood

Used to eat sugar packs for tea by themselves and has remnants all over her desk

Gabi doesn't brush her hair for weeks on end until Reiner has to intervene

Just throws it up in a ponytail, does not care

Types like a kindergartner

"where r u @? am lonley hurry"

Gabi smacks her gum, the loudest chewer on earth

Hands always covered in mud, never washes them

Falco, sweet, sweet boy

He has a sticky phone

No, tablet, and he plays cocomelon and talking tom on there too

Colt tries to help people that fall in public but makes it unbearably awkward

"are you okay 🧍"

A good thing, though, is that he'd be the one really cute barista at a cafe

Although he always drops drinks

Grisha takes so long to type and the sentence will literally be "are you here yet?"

Hair=greasy

Glases=greasy

Grisha=greasy

I physically can't bring myself to write anything bad about Carla

#milfcarla

#aot #attack on titan #anime #headcanon #icks #erwin smith #eren jäger #armin aot #sasha braus #connie springer #jean kirstein #reiner braun #mommy milkers

65 notes · View notes

teamddixon · 3 years

Text

A New Normal - Part 5

ASummary: Set in the future of the TWD timeline, this story follows Daryl, Y/N and her brother through their journey in the world of the undead. It wasn’t like Daryl to let people in to his heart easily, but it was Y/N’s smiles that had captured him completely, and before he knew it, there wasn’t a scenario Daryl could think of about his future that didn’t have Y/N in it.

A/N: Woah, sorry for the long wait for part 5! It’s a super short one as compared to the previous parts. Work had been cwayyyyzeeee lately and I fell sick haha. :/ But glad to be back and writing again! Please enjoy part 5, even though it’s really short. :( As usual, comments and feedback are really appreciated! Photo is not mine, but all mistakes in this one are mine.

Y/N woke up the next morning to the dying embers from the fire. Sunlight was now creeping in through the cracks of the cabin, the warmth hitting her face. She rubbed her eyes lazily and took a moment to orientate her surroundings. Her boots were tossed near the fire, and her underwear, bra and jeans laid next to it. Memories from the night before quickly came rushing back to her and Y/N felt her face burned. She looked down and noticed that she was wearing one of Daryl’s shirts. His shirt was at least three to four sizes bigger than her, and it was long enough to cover her bottoms. She don’t remember putting it on, but figured that Daryl must have slipped them on her while she was asleep. Y/N held on to the hem of the sleeves and brought it close to her face and smiled. She could smell Daryl’s scent, and a light hint of menthol from his cigarettes. Just his scent alone brought comfort to her.

Daryl was nowhere around, so Y/N picked up her underwear and jeans from the floor and put them on. She hadn’t bothered with her bra as Daryl’s shirt covered her well. She felt close to Daryl, and wanted to leave his shirt on. Stuffing her bra into her bag and putting her boots back on, she ventured out of the cabin to look for Daryl. She didn’t have to look too far as Daryl was standing near the side of the cabin, his crossbow raised and pointed at a lone walker. He took down the walker effortlessly before noticing Y/N looking at him.

Daryl’s heart skipped a beat when he looked up from his side and saw Y/N standing there wearing his shirt and looking at him. He almost forgot what he was doing as his fingers fumbled around the arrow he was trying to retrieve from the walker’s head. He heard Y/N approaching him and the next thing he knew, Y/N had wrapped her hand firmly around his and pulled out the arrow. “Thanks.” Daryl muttered awkwardly, not trusting his own voice. He looked up and their eyes met, his face turning red immediately. Seeing Y/N with his shirt on did strange things to Daryl’s heart. He couldn’t explain in words what he was feeling, except that he felt an urge to grab Y/N and keep her close to him forever. He had never envisioned a domestic life before this, but meeting Y/N and being intimate with her changed all that. He wanted that domestic life he never thought he would want. He wants to wake up next to Y/N every morning, kiss her on her lips, prepare breakfast for her, cuddle with her on the sofa with a movie. He wanted all that. He wanted to have a normal life with Y/N.

“I, erm, I hope you don’t mind me keeping your shirt on?” Y/N’s voice brought Daryl back. Suddenly extremely aware of how awkward her hands were dangling by her side, Y/N began playing with the hem of his shirt so her hands could have something to do. “Nah, of course I dunmind. It suits ya better than it does me.” Daryl chewed on the insides of his lips, his face still flushed, but he was smiling. Y/N smiled back at him.

“I’m hungry.” Y/N said casually as they walked back to the cabin. Instinctively, Daryl took out a bag from his backpack and handed it to Y/N. “Eat up. We got a long way ta go t’day.” He instructed. Y/N looked into the bag and saw a piece of leftover squirrel meat from the night before. Daryl had especially saved it for Y/N, which meant he hardly ate much for dinner. Y/N smiled at Daryl. She couldn’t fathom just how lucky she was to have met Daryl. Y/N never thought it was possible, with the world what it was, but she was wrong. To Y/N, apart from Andrew, Daryl was the one and only good thing in this world. And she had found him.

“Let’s share.” Y/N said as she tore the meat into two and handing the bigger piece to Daryl.

“M okay. Ya have it.” Daryl shrugged.

“Come on. Now who’s going to take care of me when you pass out from hunger, huh?” Y/N teased, her hand extended again and pushing the squirrel into Daryl’s hand. With more insisting from Y/N, Daryl finally took the squirrel from her.

“Cheers!” Y/N laughed as she smacked her share of the squirrel against Daryl’s before popping it into her mouth. Daryl smiled and did the same.

Daryl and Y/N spent a nice and peaceful morning sitting at the front gate of the cabin. The skies were extremely cloudy, and the air was beginning to feel dry. After their light breakfast, they packed up all their belongings and got ready to leave the cabin behind. They wanted to cover as much distance as possible for the day. Y/N was a few steps in front of Daryl at the gate, when she felt a sudden sharp jolt coursing through her body from the ground. For a moment she thought her head was spinning. She had dizzy spells often throughout her life, but this felt different. Y/N struggled to stand straight and her vision continued to spin. She looked behind her at Daryl and saw that his face had turned white. He too was holding on to the walls of the cabin, struggling to stand upright.

“It’s an earthquake!” Daryl shouted as he reached his hand out to grab on to Y/N. The ground was shaking more vigorously now and within a matter of seconds, Y/N was thrown off balance and she fell outside of the cabin, further away from Daryl. Y/N felt the wind knocked out of her as she hit the ground on her back. Despite hurting from her fall, she wasted no time and quickly fought to regain her footing to get to Daryl. But as she did, she saw the cabin collapsed in front of her like the crumbs from an apple pie. The rumble from the ground that had caused Y/N to fall had also caused Daryl to lose his footing before he could get out of the cabin. He was now trapped underneath the remnants of the cabin.

Panicking, Y/N half ran and half crawled on her hands and feet to get to the cabin. It was a relatively huge cabin, and all that greeted Y/N was a pile of rubble. She choked on the dust as she frantically removed the wood pieces by pieces, hoping to see Daryl’s face with every piece that she removed. The ground had finally calmed down by then, but it was still difficult for Y/N to manoeuvre the rubble. They were big and heavy and the wood pieces were broken, with exposed splinters. It didn’t stop Y/N from digging though. She knew Daryl had to be somewhere in there, and she had to find him.

#the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x Y/N #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader imagine #twd imagine #badass daryl dixon #norman reedus #a new normal

23 notes · View notes

fishybehavior · 3 years

Text

Captured

- -- - -

Knock Knock Knock,

Three figures stood on the doorsteps of a modest home, in a modest neighborhood, in a modest town. Which was just a nice way of saying, a small house for even one person, in a cluster of other small homes, in a town that barely squeaked by that definition. As enough people passed through going to more important places that it brought the population count up to the minimum thousand that defined a town.

The three figures clothed in suspiciously matching outfits, suspiciously wearing all black in the middle of the day, were suspiciously being ignored by all passersby. Men like these never visited little towns like these, but everyone knew that they couldn't talk about this to anyone. And everyone knew that residents of the home were going to move out within the hour, leaving everything they owned behind. who will never be mentioned again by the townsfolk, no matter how well they knew their neighbors. They'd never be mentioned again. Unless the rumor mill ran dry, and then aging mothers would ponder and murmur what their neighbors did to bring three suspicious men to their little do-nothing town.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Three more hard knocks, somehow measured yet impatient. The door refused to let their knocks fall limp and hollow, like anyone else who ever knocked on the cheap flimsy piece of wood the owners called a door.

The second round of knocks broke the silence from within the house. The men heard the sound of shuffling, chairs squeaking, and the scraping noise of something solid shoved in front of the front door.

None of this seemed to impress the figures, with the one who knocked stepping aside with a disappointed sigh. "Boulder, would you mind?" Letting the tallest of them step forward.

"Of course Blizzard," He was tall and confident as he took the lead, his stance showing pride as he centered himself. Grinning at the opportunity to flaunt his strength, he knocked down the door with a fluid strike with his shoulder. Giving enough force to cause the chest to block the door to push aside as if it was an empty cardboard box. Revealing the dark interior of the home, as the curtains were drawn tight, and all lights extinguished.

“Think they left?” The Boulder grunted, taking the lead as they began to scan the seemingly empty house.

“Improbable.” The one who knocked answered, shorter than the brute in the lead but not by much. He stood ramrod straight, arms politely folded behind his back. “I didn’t register any sounds of a door, and we would have heard them slam it shut.” He pointed out as the three walked in with no qualms of disturbing the home they broke into, ruthlessly judging all aspects of every nook and cranny. They took their time as they walked casually into the living room. A few pictures of their targets decorated the bureau. The one who knocked picked one of them up, studying it as if they would reveal the location of their living counterparts.

“Let's split up. I don't want to stay in this dead zone any longer than necessary.” The shortest spoke. He was odd compared to the others. While his partners were put together and professional: he broke the all-black dress code with electric blue converse, his face always had a smirk instead of professional neutrality, and his eye not covered with an eyepatch twinkled with mischief. While one of them acted as the brain, and the other was the muscle, he was the wild card.

The other two nodded, and they separated. The biggest one went off towards the kitchen, the one who knocked stayed in the living room to look for clues, and the odd one started towards the bedroom.

Walking into the bedroom, he scanned the simple room for signs of life. Two simple beds were pushed into the corners of the room, from the clothes laid out and thrown about. One could guess that either the residents weren't very neat, or they caught them off guard like planned. His footsteps tapped as he slowly approached the beds. Crouching down he looked beneath them, and nothing. All he saw was a few boxes used for storage, a few crumbs for the rats, and a pair of shoes under one, with only one shoe under the other bed.

"Gonna be hard to run with only one shoe," He muttered, standing up. Humming in frustration, as there seemed to be no other place for them to hide. "Where are you?"

A crash from the other room drew his focus. Sprinting to the kitchen where it came from, he arrived just as his partner was cuffing one of their targets. He was shouting and struggling as hard as he could even though Boulder had a solid 50 pounds on him. He wasn't going anywhere.

Blizzard turned to him, unfazed by the struggle on the floor. "Did you find the girl, Storm?"

The other partner shook his head, looking at the boy, and noticed he only had one shoe on. "But she’s not wearing shoes. She couldn't have gone far."

"Hmm, possibly," he muttered, kneeling to the pinned target to look him in the eyes. "Where's the girl?" The captured target clapped his mouth shut, refusing to speak.

Boulder, who was pinning him down, put more pressure on him, "Answer the question."

"Hey, you two, take a step back." Storm one said, motioning for the others to pull back. He got close up in his target's face, his smirk widening to a smile.

"Now, you two have been running for a while, and it's finally over. We know you two have a real strong bond, and I know you're also going to miss her if we leave her behind. Besides," he said, his voice lowering to a more serious tone. "She's just a kid. Do you think she can take care of herself? All alone? Being hunted like a runaway dog?" His voice dropped again to a dangerous whisper, pushing his face even closer. "So save everyone the hassle and your baby sister the trauma, Kai. Where. Is. She?"

The target scowled at his words, refusing to give him any reaction besides seething anger. "Fuck off."

Storm's smirk fell into a scowl, unwilling to move till he got an answer. The hair on the back of everyone's neck stood up as the air became charged. He watched Kai squirm in discomfort as the air around him began to crackle menacingly around him.

"Storm! You're not going to get any grace from the director if the target is unnecessarily injured." Blizzard chastized, the static in the air dissipating at his words.

Storm stood slowly, "Fine," he snapped, stepping away from the boy. "Besides, I don't need to touch a hair on his head to get what we need." He muttered darkly, the other two sharing a glance as they watched Storm walk over to the window grasping the heavy curtain. "Since she's obviously not here, let us make sure she doesn't have anywhere to return to," And with a flash of lightning, he set the fabric on fire. Turning back to look at the boy's face, watching the sudden panic on his poor face. His eye's glancing at the floor beneath the couch with fear. Just a glance, but it was more than enough for Storm.

Walking to the couch he pushed it aside, inspecting the floor it appeared to be slightly off. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He stood up and drove his heel into the floor, giving it two hard strikes, causing the floorboards to break and reveal the cavity beneath with a cloud of dust and debris.

He heard Kai start struggling again, throwing insults at him in an attempt to distract him from the hidden bunker. He paid no attention squinting through the dust, expecting to see a scared girl. But there was nothing, blinking he jumped into the hole.

"It's a tunnel! Blast! We may be able to catch her if we-

"Storm." Boulder interrupted with a growl, "She's long gone by now. The director wanted the boy; the girl was just a bonus. She's got no place to go," He gruffed referencing the fire which has spread to the walls, manageable now but it quickly gets out of hand. "I'll send agents to pick her up later." He gruffed as he picked up the squirming captive, a hood now over his head.

"But-"

"Storm. Boulder is right. We got what we came here for. No matter whatever you feel like you have to prove, we are done here." Blizzard said as he turned on his heel and walked out.

Grumbling Strom relinquished and jumped out of the hole. Watching his handiwork as now the home was quickly falling to the fire he started. His signature smirk was nowhere to be seen as he followed his partners out the door.

Leaving behind nothing but ashes and rumors as the four disappeared with no trace.

27 notes · View notes

dom-i-nic · 3 years

Note

I literally want anything with Fives please. Gimme crumbs and I'll be happy 🙏🏽. It can be anything you want. Fluff or angst. Buuut please no death 😭❤

Just finished!! It’s below the cut because it’s really really long! This felt kind of rushed at the end but I hope you like it. No death, as promised. A little angst but a hopeful/happy ending. Some fluff.

The only time you’re truly scared for Fives is after Umbara. You never know exactly what happens during his missions, but this one really worries you. When the 501st troops down the ramp, there are too many gaps in the ranks and for a minute, your heart is in your mouth because you can’t see him. Then after scanning with growing desperation for a few seconds, your eyes land on an ARC. You can’t see his markings from where you’re watching, but it’s him. You know it’s him.

He doesn’t march with the same cheerfulness as before; something in him looks broken.

It’s the same with the others, they’re all dusty and dented and somehow hunched over and beaten, even though they stand up as straight as it was drilled into them. Fear clenches a cold fist in your stomach. He’s back alive, but alive only means so much. You break into a run, he drops his helmet, grabs you, lifts you up and spins you through the air and kisses you and his siblings wolf-whistle behind you, the way you always greet each other after he gets back from a mission. But it feels a little empty, just a little off. In his eyes, there’s a little bit of cold, sad ice and his smile doesn’t melt it.

Hardcase is gone, and Dogma. You notice that when you go out to the 79s that night with Fives and the rest of the squad. Their absence feels like a wound, a gaping hole where there used to be easy laughter.

Under the flaring lights of the club, Jesse raises a shot glass towards the ceiling. “To Hardcase.”

“To Hardcase,” you all echo.

You down your shot, the alcohol burning your throat.

Another round. “To Dogma.”

“To Dogma.”

Tup chokes slightly on the backend of the shot, it’s strong alcohol. But there isn’t the usual uproarious laughter and lighthearted ribbing. You frown, tracing your fingers over the rim of your empty glass and scan over the group. Kix has long disappeared to God knows where, Rex is brooding in a corner, Tup is coughing up the dregs of his shot, and Fives and Jesse are chugging drinks, looking thoroughly determined to get shitfaced before the night is out. You order a beer.

You wake up the next morning, painfully hung over, and groan as reddish light filters through your apartment’s windows. Outside, the usual bangs and shouts of Coruscant stab, worsening your already pounding headache. You tuck your face into the crook of Fives’ neck; he curls up tighter around you, still half asleep.

“Cyare?” He asks blearily.

You wince and reach up with one hand to cover his mouth. “Stooooooooop. Stop that.” One of your fingers jabs something wet.

“Ow fuck, my eye!” You jerk your hand back, accidentally whacking his nose with the back of your palm, and twist away from the sudden noise. But the bed isn’t nearly as wide as your clouded brain thinks it is; suddenly, you’re sliding. Fives is so tangled up in the sheets that he gets dragged down along with you, yelping and flailing. Which is how the two of you end up cuddling on the floor in a pile of sheets and half the bed’s comforter, shaking with laughter.

At some point Fives tries to sit up, pushes himself about halfway and then lies back down with a groan. You put your head on his chest and roll over to lie across his stomach and pin him down. A sigh echoes through his chest; then he just seems to unwind, relaxing into the carpet. One arm wraps around your waist. You lean into his shoulder and listen to his heartbeat, a little faster than yours.

You could lie like this all morning and maybe for the rest of the day. It would be nice, just sleeping in, cuddling together-

But then Fives sits up abruptly and drags you up with him. The blankets fall away, chilling your shoulders. You whine, curling into his chest. He tries to pull you to your feet; you just want to lie down and do nothing.

But eventually Fives just picks you up and carries you over to the kitchen. He pulls out a chair and plops you down. “Sit.”

“Whyyyyyyy?” You groan, putting your head down on the table. It’s cold durasteel and the chill helps clear your head a little. There are little noises of Fives moving around somewhere, which pierce like shards of glass. You squeeze your arms around your ears, trying to block it out.

With an especially sharp thump, a glass of water appears somewhere in your tiny sliver of vision. You suddenly become aware of how dry your mouth is, grab the glass and chug it, then one more and a half of another before your head clears a little. Fives has pulled out a chair next to you and is holding his own cup of water. He looks annoying lucid for ass-o’clock in the morning (you look at the clock, realize that it’s 1100, and decide to ignore that).

“Why aren’t you also in pain? You drank twice as much as I did.”

Fives smirks. “Clone, remember? Enhanced metabolism?” You pout; he laughs and pokes your cheek. You pout harder and then turn your head away from him in mock anger to stare out the window. The light is getting a little better but it’s bright, mid-afternoon glow and- fuck, it’s mid-afternoon. 1100. You’re so late for work.

You spring to your feet, your chair letting out a screech, ignoring the ache starting up again at your temples.

Where’s your datapad?

It’s not until you’re halfway dressed, Fives still looking confused in the kitchen, when you remember that it’s Benduday, your day off. You troop back into the kitchen, feeling like a fool, and settle yourself back down in your chair next to him. “I, uh, thought I had work today.”

Fives laughs, leans over and kisses you once on the cheek and then once on the lips, his goatee tickling your chin. “Silly.” You catch his hand and look up at him, a little starburst of warmth in your chest, only for the warmth to fall a little short. His eyes are just the tiniest bit sad still.

You swallow. What happened? You don’t realize you’ve said it out loud until you see the fear in his eyes. It’s not at you, you know, but he looks somewhere far away, and oh-so scared and lost.

“I don’t-“ he begins, his voice cracking. “Not now.” He squeezes your hand, a silent plea for you to drop it.

You press a smile onto your lips and push your worries down for later and squeeze his fingers back. “Okay.”

He pulls you into his lap and rests his forehead on your shoulder. “Okay,” he repeats, his voice muffled.

Fives takes you out to Dex’s that night, date night. He puts on the fanciest clothes he has, and you do too, taking your time to dress up. Neither of you need to, but both of you want to. He tells you you look gorgeous and you do. You tell him he looks handsome and he does.

Coruscant is warm and bright and loud, even at night, but in the familiar chaos of Dex’s Diner, the two of you manage to enjoy yourselves. After dinner, you have dessert and then on the way back, Fives pulls you over to an ice cream shop. He has an incorruptible sweet tooth. The ice cream is deliciously cold and Fives’ hand squeezes yours. There’s a park about a ten minute walk away, really just a small patch of grass and swings. Fives clambers into one of them and you follow him, laughing. You try to hold hands while you swing and end up nearly bashing your heads together. Then, hearts pounding and still giggling a little, the two of you lie down on the grass. There’s going to be a grass stain down your back, but you don’t really care.

You pretend to see a star way up next to the Senate building and Fives pretends to spot it too. It’s a game the two of you made up, because on Coruscant nobody can see stars.

Somehow you end up sitting up, holding each other, which shouldn’t nearly be as warm and comfortable as it is. Fives puts his head down on your shoulder and relaxes with a sigh. It’s a few minutes before you realize that his body is shaking with sobs, tears wet on your shoulder. Then he finally starts talking to you about what happened in that nightmare of a planet and a mission gone sideways.

It must be hours passed by the time he finishes. You’re holding him tightly, fury pooling red hot inside of you at Krell, at Skywalker, at the entire karking galaxy for letting this happen. But you swallow it down. Now is not the time.

Fives looks broken inside and he sounds broken too, his voice dwindling off. He’s sobbing now, not bothering to hide it anymore or to hold it in. There are tears flowing down your cheeks too, tasting like salt in your mouth. You cry together, for him, for Waxer and Hardcase and Dogma, for the clones who died and the clones who lived.

“Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la,” you murmur to him. He taught you the phrase, holding you when your grandma died. You whisper it back to him now. Not gone, merely marching far away. It feels pitifully insignificant. But then he clears his throat and repeats it. Not gone, merely marching far away. His voice grows a little stronger at the end of the phrase.

Sometimes there’s nothing you can do for someone but listen to them, hold them, and cry for them. That’s all you can do for Fives now.

The sun is rising, painting the sky white, yellow and red and covering the clouds with peach. Fives takes a deep, stuttering breath and lifts his face up. His eyes are red and watery still but he manages a smile and this time it looks a little fuller. He reaches out and wipes a tear off of your cheek. “Thank you for listening to me.”

You press your forehead against his and close your eyes for a second. “Always.” You stay there for a few seconds, breathing in the smell of the city and of a new day, and of Fives, warm and alive. Whatever gods are out there, you thank them for that. You thank them for him.

You pull him to his feet. He stands there for a second, arms wrapped around your waist, and then kisses you softly. He tastes a little like tears, but sweet. Then he pulls back, clears his throat.

“Do you want ice cream?”

You stare at him for a second, then grab his hand and pull him in the direction of the ice cream shop, giggling. His laughter rings out behind you.

39 notes · View notes

paperlandings · 3 years

Text

Footsteps

@natsume-ss gift for @polandspringz! I had a lot of fun writing this! I really related to what you said about liking the more subtle, emotional parts of the series as it pertains to Natsume’s feeling of belonging, and I hope I was able to capture that in this fic. Happy holidays and I hope you enjoy!

TW: implications of bullying, emotional manipulation, and child neglect.

Word count: 1784

When Takashi was five years old, footsteps meant that his father was coming to tuck him in.

The house was big, and old, and sometimes cold, but it didn’t matter because his father would always be there with a warm smile, a gentle voice, and kind hands. At night, there would always be a book tucked under his arm, and Takashi would sit up excitedly in his bed, eyes sparkling in anticipation.

“Read me a story!” he would say.

His father would chuckle and say that he would probably find the book boring.

“That’s okay,” Takashi would reply, scooting over to make space beside him.

His father would sit down, tipping the bed over ever so slightly, and open the book to whatever page he was on. Takashi didn’t always understand what was being read to him but the fact that his father was there, a warm presence next to him, was enough to lull him to sleep every night.

He vaguely remembered the feeling of a blanket being draped over him and the noise of a screen door sliding closed, and he would fall asleep to the soft thumping of his father walking away.

When Takashi was six years old, footsteps meant that the monster was coming.

There was a monster at the end of the hallway who was always following him. But the monster wasn’t real. Uncle and auntie had said so. So when there was knocking on his room door in the middle of the night, Takashi would jam his pillow over his head and ignore it.

But the monster was there. It followed Takashi around the house and knocked on his room door at night. It stood next to him at the table sometimes and called his name.

“What does it want?” they would ask.

“It wants me to draw it a mouth.”

And then they would laugh at him. And then the little girl who lived with him would glare at him. And then he would feel so, so alone.

Uncle and auntie didn’t mean anything bad, he knew that. But he also knew that they thought he was strange and stupid and had too wild of an imagination. They cared for him but they didn’t care about him.

His father would’ve understood though. His father would’ve held him and told him everything was going to be okay, and that they were going to get rid of the monster together. His father would’ve believed him.

He missed his father.

He wonders if uncle and auntie would miss him as he stepped into the car, watching his new home get smaller and smaller behind him.

When Takashi was eight years old, footsteps meant that someone was angry.

Then again, auntie was always angry. And when auntie was angry, his cousins got angry at him too. It didn’t matter that he didn’t do the things that he was accused of, they got angry at him anyway.

They said that he was the one who broke the vase in the hallway even though he had seen someone else do it. They said that he was the one who ate auntie’s cake in the fridge even though the crumbs were at the corners of their mouths. They said that he was the one who started that fight at school and they were only defending him because Takashi was weird and they were so nice. Nevermind that Takashi had never actually been anywhere near that fight.

Auntie’s sandals made a different sound than everyone else’s. They were louder, the slapping on the wood floor more sharp. They came with a decisiveness that he had never heard from anyone else. They made Takashi want to run away and hide in a place where they would never find him.

And when they sounded like that, they were always coming towards him.

Takashi thinks he might have preferred the monster.

When Takashi was thirteen years old, footsteps meant that he had to be very, very quiet.

Auntie always came home late. Uncle says it’s Takashi’s fault, and he thinks uncle might be right.

The first time auntie came home late, Takashi came to greet her at the door. He laid out her sandals for her, offered to make her tea, and tried his very best to make her like him. And then she looked at him, kicked the sandals aside, and blew past him and into her room.

She smelled strongly of alcohol, and Takashi pretended not to notice.

Auntie kept on coming home late. Takashi kept greeting her at the door and laying out her sandals. She kept on kicking them aside, harder and harder until one day they flew straight into his face.

“Just stay in your room so I can forget that you ruined my life!” she had yelled at him.

The next time auntie came home late, her sandals echoing in the empty hallway, Takashi stayed quiet in his room. Auntie came home late every day from then on.

He heard uncle yelling one night, telling auntie that she couldn’t keep on blowing their savings on alcohol, that they had Takashi to think about, that if people found out they weren’t taking proper care of Takashi they could get into very big trouble.

Auntie stormed off and slammed the door to Takashi’s room open, yelling at him that everything was hard because of him. That they could barely afford to live because of him. That she hated him. Takashi stayed quiet and hoped she would think he was asleep.

“He can’t hear you,” uncle said. “He’s sleeping. You’re wasting your breath.”

The door closed and Takashi let out a big, shuddering breath.

Tomorrow, he swore, he would learn to cut his own hair.

When Takashi was fifteen years old, footsteps meant the cold.

He could tell auntie and uncle didn’t like him much. He could tell they thought he was a dramatic troublemaker and a nuisance. But they were nice enough, and their son seemed to genuinely like him, and so he needed to stay with them.

He couldn’t make trouble. Even when auntie deliberately denied Takashi a scarf on cold days despite her son’s insistence. Even when uncle repeatedly forgot to think of Takashi when he brought home treats from work. Takashi wasn’t stupid. He could tell they hadn’t really wanted to take him in the first place. He had to be grateful that they did anyway and took care of him as best as they could bring themselves to. Besides, his new older brother was nice. He would sneak sweets into Takashi’s room when his parents weren’t looking, and loudly proclaimed that he didn’t like a certain shirt anymore and Takashi should have it even though they all knew that he had only bought it the week before. He would help Takashi with school work and insist on walking home with him when they saw each other on the way.

It wasn’t so bad, really, but Takashi was tired.

He was tired of people disliking him before even getting to know him. He was tired of having to be alone all the time. He was tired of going to live with a different person every half year, all of which never wanted him.

Which was why he had to stand down. He had to keep his head down and not do or say anything that would make them want to send him away because he needed to stay here.

He started going on runs at night to keep himself from going crazy. To let out all the pent up energy and emotion that he had to keep bottled up day after day. He focused on the sound of his footsteps on the asphalt and the bite of cold wind through his clothes and just runs until all he could think about was to go to sleep.

He’s grateful no one notices, but sometimes when he comes home to deafening silence and chilling darkness, he wished they did.

When Takashi is sixteen years old, footsteps meant kindness.

The first night he came home with Touko-san and Shigeru-san, they fussed over him until his ears rang. They asked him if his head was still hurting after his fall, what kind of food he liked to eat, what kind of clothing he needed, if he wanted a bed or a futon in his room.

Takashi’s head hurt. None of his previous guardians had ever asked him this many questions before. Especially not about his preferences.

He apologized and told them he didn’t know, and when their faces fell, he frantically added that he liked manjuu.

The next morning, he found a box of manjuu with his name written on top on the kotatsu in the living room.

Every night after that, right before bed, he would always hear the soft thudding of his guardians’ footsteps coming towards his room. Either Touko-san or Shigeru-san or both would knock at his door, poke their head in, and ask him if he needed anything. Takashi always said no, until the night his body betrayed him and he sneezed right in Touko-san’s face.

She made a small sound of surprise and promptly ran out of his room. Takashi stared at his door in horror, thinking that was it. They were going to send him away. That had been so horribly rude of him and they were going to tell him tomorrow morning that they couldn’t keep him anymore.

And then Touko-san ran back into his room, an impressive pile of blankets in her arms, and proceeded to cover him in four layers of warmth before smoothing his hair back with a smile on her face and bidding him good night.

Takashi sweat like mad that night, but he never took any of his blankets off.

They didn’t send him away when he ruined one of Touko-san’s pans trying to make breakfast to thank her the next morning. They didn’t send him away when he ran home screaming and collapsed on the entryway. They didn’t send him away when he came home with a failing grade, or when he asked to keep the strange fat cat he had found in a shrine.

They were ecstatic when he brought friends with him for the first time. Touko-san fed them until they were full to bursting and Shigeru-san regaled them with tales of his most impressive fishing exploits.

And every night, without fail, they would still knock at his door, asking him if he needed anything. And Takashi would smile, thank them for their kindness, and fall asleep with his heart more full than it had ever been.

When Takashi is sixteen years old, footsteps meant that his family was coming.

#natsumess2020 #polandspringz #natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #natsume takashi #tw: bullying #tw: child neglect #tw: emotional manipulation #natsume deserves the world and i love him #natsume takashi x happiness #touko and shigeru are good parents we stan #i realized during and after writing this that i have to reread/rewatch this series haha #i have never integrated this much canon in a natsume fic before this was hard

22 notes · View notes

craftymuffinspyflower · 3 years

Text

Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy Part II

AU: When a chemically enhanced teenage girl shows up, and a wave of conspiracy follows behind her, the Avengers (and Yelena) are forced to do the one thing that even a group of superheroes can't seem to hack: caring for a minor.

a/n: so incredibly un-canon! (is that a word?) set after black widow; there was no civil war.

warnings: mentions of abuse and injury, though nothing explicit. also, there's a panic attack.

- - - - - -

It had taken a lot of corralling to get Maya to where she was now, sat at the dining table. Everybody still eyed her warily, all still on edge and ready for her to make a move against them. Wanda had a cloud of red magic hovering above her. Natasha had her right hand stuck to the gun that was currently taped to her thigh.

The Avengers gathered around as the girl sat, staring straight at the table in front of her. They had all tried to get information out of her; very quickly realising that it was not going to be an easy task. She had yet to say a word after introducing herself; had yet to clarify why they were going to regret bringing her in. Tony wanted to keep her stuck to a piece of furniture until she managed to give them all the information that they wanted, but Steve was quick to remind him that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. They all agreed.

And so here they were, all gathered around the dining room table, eyeing the teenager that sat amongst them. Bruce had made her a simple penut butter and jelly sandwich, but it was still sat in front of her. Untouched. They had all taken note of her very thin frame. Wherever she was before, she wasn't fed well.

"Why were you at that facility?"

"What were you trying to steal?"

"Were you there to kill somebody?"

"Is anybody looking for you right now?"

Nothing. She kept staring straight ahead. They were getting nowhere and they were getting irritated. The group shared a look with each other and, after a moment, Natasha gave the room a small nod and pointed her head towards the door. The others walked away. Wanda glanced back at her, a silent 'I can stay' on her lips, but the older redhead shook her head.

Reluctantly, Wanda left with the others. Leaving Natasha and the girl alone. She sat down on the chair opposite the teenager that had yet to look up, had yet to move. It was as if she wasn't actually alive; wasn't human.

"Maya?"

Nothing.

"You mind?" The redhead gestured towards the untouched sandwich still on the table. "I haven't eaten since breakfast."

Nothing.

Natasha wasn't phased. She had seen this before; the psychological conditioning. The abuse. It wasn't hard to spot the very angry, purple bruising that covered the teenager's throat.

Without missing a beat, the redhead leant forward and took a slice of the PB&J. She took a bite. And then another. And another until it was gone, shooing the crumbs off of her chest and onto the floor.

"Don't tell Steve I did that," she said, motioning to the pile of sandwich crumbs on the floor. "He's such a neat-freak."

Nothing.

Natasha sighed. "You know, you talk in your sleep."

The Widow tried adamantly to catch the girl's eye, but wasn't quite successful. "When you were on the jet, and you were unconscious, you wouldn't stop muttering the word 'Integrity.'"

At that, Maya's head shot up so fast that Natasha was sure she had given herself whiplash.

"You want to tell me what that is?"

Natasha was able to stare straight into the teenager's eyes now. They were a very pale blue colour, almost resembling an icicle, and there was something behind them that the redhead couldn't quite put her finger on. A look that she was all too familiar with, but yet wasn't able to recognise. Her hair was a wild mane of blonde locks, littered with streaks of pink. She was pale, too, almost resembling somebody that hadn't seen the light of day for quite a while. Natasha guessed she hadn't.

"No."

Short and sweet. A trained response. They never once broke eye contact.

"No?"

"Did I stutter?"

For all of the defensive maturity, the assassin had to remind herself that she was still talking to a teenager. She took a breath, counted to ten in her head. Natasha had taken down empires, HYDRA, helped to rebuild everything that came from that. She had stood on an entire city that floated almost out of the breathable atmosphere. She could handle a teenager's snark.

"Look, Maya," the redhead started. "I know you're scared-"

"I am not scared of you."

Count to ten again. "I know you're scared," she gave the teenager a pointed look. "But you have no reason to be scared here."

Maya looked at her incredulously. "You literally shot me a couple of hours ago."

"Fair point, but you did have a knife in my friend." Natasha placed her elbows on the table, leaning closer to the girl that was sat across from her. "I'm sorry that I shot you. I am, but you were too far away for me to take you out with hand-to-hand."

The teenager scoffed. "Like you could."

"Alright, don't get cocky."

The older woman could have sworn that she saw the hint of a smile at that, but decided not to comment. "Do you want something for the pain? I've been shot before, you don't have to pretend that it isn't bothering you. I know that Bruce didn't give you a lot of help in terms of medication."

Maya narrowed her eyes at the Avenger. "He didn't give me a lot of help in terms of anything. Dude literally threw a car door right at me."

"And he is very sorry for that."

"Oh, he is?"

"Yes, he is."

"Right."

Natasha's patience was dwindling. "What is Integrity?"

Maya knew that she was grating on the older woman. She was an expert at pushing her Mother's buttons and she knew from experience that hitting the right ones always caused a blow out, but that she would be left alone afterwards. After the fists had flown and she was littered with a new layer to her already very angry bruises, her Mother would walk away and the girl would be left to her own devices. She wanted to get this over with. She wanted to be alone.

"Shouldn't you already know the answer to that? Being an all powerful superhero, and all. I thought you guys knew everything." She popped her lips, giving Natasha a once over. "Clearly not."

Natasha knew exactly what the girl was doing. She was trained to do the exact same thing. She wasn't going to feed into it. She wasn't going to feed into it.

"Why don't you enlighten me? I fell asleep during the boss' last lecture; probably when he covered that."

Dammit.

"That's not very professional of you."

"Lucky for me, I have you to give me the cliff notes."

Maya hummed, turning her head away to continue to stare at the table in front of her. The redhead was getting annoyed. Taking a harsh breath, she gave the girl a cold stare.

"You know, you can either talk to me or you can talk to Tony."

The girl snorted. "The metal man? Fuck, I am so scared."

"Language," Natasha growled at her. "I don't know what it's like when you're wherever the hell it is that you came from but, when you are here, in this tower, you will watch your attitude and you will watch your language. There is a bar of soap in the bathroom that is just waiting to be used on you."

Maya flinched at the assassin's tone. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. A flash of something ran across her face for a split second and Natasha watched as the teenager tensed in her seat. She was holding her breath. She was waiting for the Avenger to hit her. The redhead's expression softened at that.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Maya. I promise."

The teenager eyed her wearily, her lips pursing together. "I won't fall for that."

Natasha's heart broke. "Fall for what?"

"You don't think that I know what you're doing?" The teenager's voice cracked and Natasha's heart broke further in half. Every instinct that she had wanted to reach for the kid, give her a hug, but she decided against it. Choosing to remain neutral, stoic.

"What am I doing, Maya?"

"You want me to relax. To trust you. To talk to you and after I've told you everything that you need, you'll send me back. Or you will lock me up; maybe you will just finish the job."

"I'm not going to kill you."

"You should."

"Why is that?"

"Because as long as I'm alive, she will come for you."

"Who will come for me?"

Natasha could see the internal struggle battling behind the girl's eyes. She wanted to jump in before the blonde had a chance to build up her walls and lock everybody out, so she reached forward. It was an innocent move, Natasha was just leaning in for the girl's hand, she wanted to show her some compassion, show her that she was safe here, but Maya jerked away from her so hard that her chair flew backwards. The girl grunted at the impact. The air was knocked out of her so quickly that she was left wheezing for breath, her eyes glassing over. The bullet wound on her abdomen reopened, soaking her clothes further in blood.

Natasha acted quickly, stealthily. She moved from her chair across the table within seconds. The other Avengers heard the commotion and came rushing in, ready to fight. The redhead held her hand up, signalling for them to stop, so they did. They all stood cautiously by the door. Wanda's eyes were red, Thor was gripping his hammer so tightly that his knuckles were white and Clint had an arrow ready to shoot if he needed to.

Natasha knelt down beside the girl, her hand hovering over the wound on her stomach. After the reaction that came from just trying to hold her hand, the redhead assumed that she wouldn't take too kindly to her hands on her stomach.

"Maya? Are you okay?"

The girl was breathing quickly, her face was scrunched up and her eyes were squeezed shut. She was having a panic attack.

"Maya? Focus on me, okay? You're okay. You're safe. Listen to my voice. Breathe with me."

Nothing.

Despite the voice in the assassin's head telling her not to touch, she carefully grabbed the girl's hand and brought it to her chest.

Maya's eyes shot open, she tried to pry herself out of Natasha's grip, tried to crawl away, but the redhead squeezed harder.

"Breathe with me. In for seven seconds," she took a deep breath. "Out for four seconds." Exhale. The girl's eyes were locked onto hers. She wasn't responding. If they didn't get any air into her soon, they were going to be facing a different problem.

Natasha grabbed the girl's upper arms and maneuvered her easily, pulling her into her chest. She tried to struggle, but the Avenger was stronger. She simply held on tighter.

"Breathe, Maya. Breathe. In for seven," inhale. "Out for four," exhale.

In for seven, inhale. Out for four, exhale.

After a minute, or so, the girl's breathing returned to normal and the panic started to dissipate.

"Are you good?" The redhead asked, looking down into the exhausted eyes of the girl that was still pressed against her chest.

Maya seemed to quickly get her bearings and scurried away from the hold that Natasha had on her, scrambling to the other side of the kitchen. She looked up and noticed the other Avengers that were stood, ready to fight, next to the door. Natasha was still sat on the floor.

"I'm sorry," the girl said, so quiet that it was barely audible.

"You don't have to apologise. I have them, too." Natasha never once took her eyes off of the girl that was currently resembling a small ball across the room. "Can I take a look at that wound?"

In all of the hussle and bustle, the girl hadn't even noticed that the bullet hole had reopened, the stitches no longer holding it together. She looked across at Natasha, and then to the rest of them. Nobody had their hands on their weapons anymore. Their expressions were softer; they were no longer waiting for her to attack.

Maya nodded her head, looking down at the blood that covered her sweatshirt. It did really hurt.

- - - - - -

a/n #2: i guess that this is a little out of character for natasha, but i picture her as such a mother bear so i'm just going to roll with it. i hope that you enjoyed!

#the avengers #original character #natasha romanoff #black widow #wanda maximoff

2 notes · View notes

tiliamericana · 3 years

Text

Muay Thai: 1.09

Nairi double checked the address Linden had texted her and looked back up at the set of buildings. They were squat and stuck together, looking kind of like a demountable set up someone had made permanent as best they could. The foundation was brickwork that looked more recent than the dirty siding, and about halfway up the wall it was all old windows, half of which were propped open.

The number she was looking for was around the side and about halfway down, and Nairi could smell cleaning supplies and cooking food, and hear discordant music as she walked up the ramp towards the door she was looking for. It was propped open a couple of inches by a worn paint can filled with concrete, a little angry face painted on it in red. She knocked on the window panel in the door. “Linden?”

The door swung all the way open, and Linden poked her head out, smiling at her. “There you are! Found it okay?”

She was completely bare faced for the first time since Nairi had met her, and while the denim cut offs were a familiar part of her wardrobe rotation, the oversize grey t-shirt was new, shapeless and paint spattered. There was also paint all along her forearms, some of which had managed to get onto her legs as well.

“Yeah,” said Nairi, holding up the paper bag. “And I brought lunch, as requested.”

“Oh, I’ll have to keep you around,” said Linden, grinning as she stepped back and opened the door properly to let Nairi in. She took the bag as Nairi stepped past her, digging in to retrieve her enchilada with a pleased noise.

“Having a… productive Tuesday?” asked Nairi as Linden let the door fall back into the paint can with a muffled clang.

Even with all of the windows propped open and the extractor fan wheezing loudly, the room still stunk of turpentine, paint, and something else chemical and sweet that she couldn’t quite identify. There was an unfinished counter running along one side of the room, cluttered with tubs of paint and half-filled bottles of oil, dirty jars and mugs, with an industrial sink at the end with an old microwaved plugged in next to it. One of its hinges was held on with electrical tape. The shelves under the counter had a lot of plastic tubs filling the space, labelled in masking tape and marker.

Linden crossed the room to a section where the floor was covered by an old bedsheet, sitting down on a wheeled office chair with the back broken off in front of an easel holding a canvas that was mostly pale green. She nodded as she picked up a tall ceramic mug with a lid, and she drank deeply from it, gesturing at a ratty couch under the windows on the wall. The mug had a strip of masking tape wrapped around it, ‘NO TURPS >:|’ scrawled on it in thick marker.

“Yeah, I got my wash layer down for the base of this bad boy,” said Linden, setting the mug back down and jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the canvas. “I spent a good chunk of last week fucking around with thumbnails, but your housewarming gift is officially on the way as of now.”

Nairi, sat on the couch. A strut creaked under her, threatening to crack. “You don’t have to—”

Linden waved her off. “I told you, your walls are too bare, and this is literally my area of expertise. How was your morning anyway?”

Nairi shrugged. “Okay, I guess? I really only got out of bed when you texted me.”

“Nice for some,” said Linden, grinning at her. “Layabout! How do you and Aggy get anything scheduled? She’s up by six and in bed by ten sharp.”

Nairi shrugged, unwrapping her own lunch and shifting uncomfortably on the terrible couch. “I guess we’ll find out; I’m having dinner at her apartment tonight.”

“Co-sy,” said Linden sarcastically, setting her enchilada on the folding table next to her ‘not turpentine’ and a clear jar filled with what was presumably turpentine. She picked up a flat paintbrush and dabbed it at her palette, rolling her chair forward and making a couple of light, decisive strokes on the green. “You two are enjoying yourselves, then?”

“I think so,” said Nairi, not entirely certain if she’d messed something up or was missing something. “Have you got plans for the night then? Or are you working?”

“Both,” said Linden promptly. “Got a hot date with a cool hook up, and then a much hotter date with the rest of next month’s rent check. Can I ask you a favour?”

“Sure,” said Nairi, chewing slowly. “For your cool hook up or next month’s rent?”

Linden turned her head and bounced her eyebrows at Nairi. “Next month’s rent check. Si’s kind of a dickhead, but he’s only dangerous if you don’t like T.S. Eliot or are allergic to, like, papercuts, or lignin, or something. I need a safety check in for when I finish my job. I have a couple of people I’d usually ask, but the one I normally go to during the week has a daughter in hospital for her appendix, and Flo takes melatonin to keep her schedule, like, regulated during semester so asking her to wait up on a school night is a no-go.”

“I should be able to do that,” said Nairi, nodding, partially because her only other option was asking what the hell ‘lignin’ was. “What do you need for it?”

“It’s just waiting for me to call when I’m finished with my job, or calling to check in, just to make sure I haven’t been murdered or whatever,” said Linden, leaning back a little to scan the lines she’d marked out on the canvas. “I’m booked for eleven, so I should be done before one. I’ll like, send you the address and the number for my work phone and stuff.”

Nairi nodded again. “Okay, sounds easy. So, if I can’t reach you by one, what do I need to do?”

“I’d tell you to call Nick, but he’d only call the cops so you can probably just cut him out of the equation and go straight to them. I’d like, rather not with them, like at all, ever,” she emphasised this with a slashing motion of her paintbrush, “but if it comes to that, then tell them like, I’m on a first date with a guy my dad thinks is creepy and I promised to check in or something, I don’t know.”

If she had the address, then… well. “Why would Nicholas call the cops if he knows you’d hate it?”

Linden rolled her eyes extravagantly and set her brush down, going for her enchilada again. “Because he believes in the power of the system, doesn’t approve of my job, is convinced that one day cops will magically stop being shitty to me, and also he apparently still thinks I’m sixteen.”

“Right,” said Nairi, slowly balling up the foil and paper of her lunch. “He uh, cares a lot about you, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s an old friend of my dad’s,” said Linden, nodding and swallowing. “Looked out for me when I was a teenager, you know? He’s still convinced that every time he turns around I’m gonna run off and nearly get myself killed again, it’s a real pain in the ass.”

“Again?”

A rueful smile flickered across Linden’s face. “Yeah, I ran away from home when I was about fifteen. Jim’s the one who found me and got me off the streets at first, but Edie and Nick were the ones who really made sure I got on my feet.”

“Right,” said Nairi, and she hesitated. “Jim’s a friend of theirs?”

“Was, yeah,” said Linden, glancing down at her lap to brush off an invisible crumb. “He died when I was about nineteen. Lung cancer, you know. It happens.”

“Damn,” said Nairi, not sure what to say in the face of that. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too, sometimes,” said Linden, her smile a little lopsided as she looked up. “It was a long time ago, though—water under the bridge and all that.”

“Yeah,” said Nairi, glancing at her hands briefly. “So what, Nicholas is worried that you’ll end up in a gutter?”

“Street corner, more like,” said Linden, dryness creeping back into her tone as she popped the last piece of her enchilada into her mouth, shaking her head. “He was pretty pissed off when I got out of college and went straight back to hooking.”

Nairi snorted. “Yeah, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d ‘approve’ of that.”

“Real stick up his ass, yeah,” said Linden, nodding again. “Edithwas the fun one when I was a teenager, so you can imagine what a downer life was back then.”

“A little, yeah,” said Nairi, her mouth twitching. “I didn’t know anyone like that as a teenager, maybe it would’ve helped me out some.”

“Oh, I know that feeling,” said Linden with a laugh, giving Nairi a carefully measured side-eye. “He’s very useful to have around sometimes—my taxes get filed on time every year and all that.”

Nairi laughed. “Nothing shows you care like robust budgeting, huh?”

Linden cackled with laughter, a loud, startled noise. “Yes! Exactly—god, you should have seen him when I got my first apartment. He came with me to sign the lease and he interrogated my landlord, did his own goddamn tour, took his own photos of the place when I moved in and hunted the guy down to sign that he’d seen them, made copies of my bond payment, and thenhe was on me every single month to make sure I had a receipt for my rent.”

“Ferocious,” said Nairi, grinning at her.

“And wildly disappointed in me the first time I got evicted,” said Linden, grinning back at her.

Nairi laughed without expecting it, the lines around her eyes creasing. “You’re a menace, then?”

Linden was smiling with bright eyes; head tilted a little. “Damn right I am. Nick’s been putting up with my shit for ten years, I really thought he’d’ve clued in by now.”

“Maybe he thinks you can be better than shit?” suggested Nairi.

Linden’s smile softened a little as she picked up the paintbrush again. “No, he’s a little better at managing his expectations than that. I mean, he sticks up for me with dad, but it’s not like I get away scot free when I fuck up!”

“Your dad’s not a fan of the hooking I take it?”

Linden made a wheezing sort of noise as she went for her paint again. “Oh god, no, my dad doesn’t know about the hooking, he’s an attorney, he’d kill me. That’s part of why Nick fucking hates it, he doesn’t like lying for anything, least of all my sorry ass.”

Nairi nodded again. “Okay, so, your dad’s just kind of a dick, huh?”

Linden paused and turned her head to look at Nairi, giving her an annoyed look. “No, he’s fine. We don’t get along that well, is all. And that whole thing where I was a missing teenager for four years and then came back queer and punk didn’t exactly help things either. We’re fine, I’m going up for dinner with him in a couple of weeks, actually.”

“Right, sorry,” said Nairi, holding up a hand. “I never met my parents, I don’t know what’s like, normal or whatever.”

“It’s fine,” said Linden, shrugging at her. “People get the wrong impression sometimes, is all.”

Somehow Nairi wasn’t shocked by this. “Will I hit another pothole if I ask about your mom?” she said instead.

Linden laughed. “I never knew her. I asked about her a bunch when I was a kid, but my dad was kind of really evasive and I stopped asking—I sort of got the impression she died when I was extra small or something. Edie reckons that whoever she was they were never really, like ‘together’, ‘cause apparently I was a surprise baby for everyone who knew him.”

“Oh, I don’t think kids work well as surprises,” said Nairi with a wince.

“Definitely not,” said Linden, grinning widely. “He did okay, though.”

Nairi shifted uncomfortably on the couch again. “You turned out okay, so he must have.”

Linden snorted.

Nairi’s phone chirped in her back pocket and she tugged it out to check the message. The couch creaked ominously as she shifted again, and she paused, glancing down at it. “Just out of curiosity, how much did you pay for this couch?”

“I didn’t, I nicked it from a guy who was throwing it out,” said Linden, taking a drink of not turps as Nairi’s phone chirped again. “Who’s texting?”

Nairi glanced down at her screen, tapping open the messaging inbox. “Agatha. She’s just checking that we’re still on for tonight.”

“You’re not gonna disappoint her, are you?” teased Linden.

Nairi looked up at her, not sure what to make of the way her tone had dipped. “No?”

Linden hummed, her mouth twitching. “Well, don’t party too hard then,” she said in the same tone again, and she turned her attention back to her canvas.

#serial fiction #lgbt fiction #109 #series honey tree #book muay thai #book 1

4 notes · View notes

enigma-im · 4 years

Text

Family Affairs

Rating: teen Relationship: Robot/Female!Human Warnings:

Word Count: 2,211

Tracey goes to a family reunion where someone let lose the secret of who she is dating.

Main story -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"yea, can't wait. Uh-huh, see you all Saturday. Love you too, bye," I press the red circle with too much ire to be comfortable. I sit back in my office chair, rubbing my eyes once I drop my phone to my lap. "Fuck," I shout," Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" I let my hands drop to my thighs, staring up at the ceiling trying to think.

Lost in thought I don't hear the knocking at my door. It isn't till someone sets a hand on me that I notice. Startled, I jump, looking up at Daniel's also surprised face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, love," he hovers his hand over my shoulder. I stare from him to his arm then back again. When did he get in here?

"Oh, it's fine. I was just a bit lost in thought," I answer. I suck in a breath, sitting up to push away from my desk.

"What were you thinking about. Penny for your thoughts, if you will," he grins. My lip edges quirk as well. I stand and head out the room, Daniel following closely behind.

"Just dreading the family meet-up this weekend," I clarify. I head into the kitchen for a drink. Opening the fridge and grabbing a water. "They are always so…much? They are just difficult to be a part of," I take a sip," I'm just not a fan."

I rest against the island, watching Daniel for a moment. Looking at his screen, seeing how his mouth quirks to the side in thought.

"Why is it difficult? I thought family gatherings are something to enjoy," he asks with a head tilt. So adorable the way he gets curious about things. You can always know he is truly engaged in a conversation if he asks questions.

"they should be but younger vs older generations generally ruin these get-togethers. Older bashing the younger's choice in lifestyles while younger resent the older for ruining the world they are coming into. Lots of voiced opinions and politics," I answer. Which is true, I never enjoyed these kinds of things. Aunt Carol generally makes the gatherings fun but ever since she sent me Daniel she has only been interested in talking about that. 'How is he doing, are you treating him well?'' Does everything, ya know, work? ''You should bring him up to the house and let me see him again, how I miss him so.' I don't mind the questions, I get it, but I'd like to talk about other stuff.

"If you are so against it then why go?"

"because I have to. If I don’t then I will never hear the end of it," I answer. " 'where is Tracey? Probably off at work again, never gives us the time of day anymore since she graduated. I just don't understand that girl.'," I mock a elder voice," just a lot of that anytime I get a call. I just need to suck it up and go," I shrug. It’s a simple fact, a family isn't a must but having that kind of backup and community is important. I love them all dearly but I just want them to stop asking when I'm getting married and if I have a boyfriend. I cannot explain to everyone how I'm committed to a robot Aunt Carol made. That would be one hell of a mess.

I'm sure I'm just exaggerating

--------------------

I sit in my car fuming, gripping the steering wheel too tightly with the music mute. I'm too pissed to tolerate any noises at the moment. I go well over the speed limit as I rush home, wanting this day to be over more than anything.

My mind wonders to the moment I walked through the front door. The home was lovely, sitting on the coast of a lake of all places. It just screamed 'I'm rich'. The view makes the get together the more tolerable. Which wasn't enough in this case.

I was first greeted by cousin Sophia, the twenty-something artist of the family. Seeing her accusing face should have been a foreboding sign. Like a picket-sign at the entrance of a dark forest telling others to turn back now. As the main character of a horror movie, I thought nothing of it.

The second person who greets me is my grandmother, dressed to the nines. I go into her group of older women. She is passive in her conversation, hinting at something I'm not getting. She passes curious glances at me, acting like I'm supposed to get some kind of joke. Like an idiot, I think nothing of it.

The beginning of the party feels like all eyes are on me. Whispers behind my back along with snickering. It isn't until I walk in the middle of Aunt Carol's conversation that I get a clue.

She was in the middle of talking about her latest project. Offhandedly mentioning Daniel, making me stop instead of walking by. I stay behind her, listening as she backtracks and ends up bragging about her work on my boyfriend. I don't panic, sitting mostly at the edge of stress. She continues blabbering about the intricate work and how special his A.I. is. I stop breathing when she mentions his capacity for feelings. My stomach drops when she mentions me. Next, filling everyone in on my relationship with a robot, not making me look good at all.

Now knowing why everyone was laughing behind my back, the party gets all the more devastating. I try to rough it out, having only snide comments. I can do this, it's fine.

I was an idiot. Like the dumb blonde in a slasher running up the stairs instead of out the door.

It starts small. Someone asks a question about relationships, curious about a boyfriend I have. Then its like a snowball down a steep mountain. Things go from passive to straight-up vulgar. I couldn't take it.

Thinking back, I dig my nails into the steering wheel cover. The perverts that I'm related to are insane! The blatant disrespect and ignorance were not only hurtful but rage-inducing.

I scratch the bottom of my bumper as I speed into the driveway. I throw the car in park and shove the seatbelt off. I grumble to myself as I storm up the walkway and into the house. Slamming the door behind myself I just barely see Daniel out the corner of my eye.

"Tracey? You are home early," he greets with a smile till I throw the keys into the bowl with too much force. "You ok," he asks, keeping wide breath. He knows from my work tantrums to give me a wide range less he wants to be the target of my ire.

I give him an off glance but storm into the kitchen to grab some leftover pie Daniel made. I grab the whole tin and bring it into the living room to devour. I sit on the couch with a huff and shove piles of pie into my mouth. I sneer at the wall as I chew, not even caring about the crumb falling onto my dress.

Daniel hesitantly walks in and sits on the chair diagonally from me. He fiddles with his fingers, perhaps waiting for me to speak. As I continue forcing more food down my throat he talks instead.

"you look lovely in your sundress," he compliments.

"Fucking Carol," I throw the fork onto the mostly finished pie tin, startling Daniel as I do, "I cannot believe her! You would think her of all people would know to keep her mouth shut but nooo~, she too damn proud of herself. She had to pat herself on the back and tell fucking everyone!." I toss the tin onto the coffee table, crossing my arms as I shake my head.

"What did Carol say," he asks worriedly. I finally look at Daniel, taking in his robotic form. Looking at every wire, screw, light, and hard plastic cover.

"She told everyone about you. Told everyone about her 'wonderful creation that is living with Tracey'," I nearly shout. His animated brows furrow, cocking his head at me.

"Does that bother you that Carol told people about me?" he looks almost offended now.

"I'm not mad about you but what she said about you. She apparently let it drop that I was 'involved' with you. Which led to a bunch of snarky comments and inappropriate questions all through lunch."

"Like what," he asks.

"'Couldn't find a real man, huh? Just had to build one?' 'You do know sex toys aren't people, right?' 'so stuck in her work that she married it, how funny.' Then my favorite from cousin Ethan, 'Do you think I could borrow him for myself? Must be one hell of a lay if you're developing feelings for it.'. Just the most disrespectful shit! Then what could I say? I couldn't be like 'no, it's not like that. He is practically human.' no one would have believed me, just consider me insane," I rant. I'm ready to blow a gasket just remembering the most embarrassing lunch I've ever been to. I even had relatives offering to set me up with their coworker's sons or friends. Like, holy hell!

As I'm stewing in my own anger I don’t notice Daniel folding into himself. I curiously look him over, noticing the most human gestures. He is holding his elbows, tilting his head away, and projecting a worried look on his screen.

"Daniel," I ask softer than I've been all day," you ok?" he glances up at me for a moment, turning back down to the floor.

"Do you wish you had something more real? A human boyfriend instead of me," he asks. His words twists my heart.

"Of course not," I answer. The question, to me, sounds absurd. At first I had the same idea, not till I got to know him did it no longer bother me.

"But," he hesitates," you can't take me out to places. Can't do all the social things like take couples photos with me or meet the family." he picks at the plastic on his arm, his fingers taping with soft clicks. His shoulders slump before he speaks again, breaking my heart even more. "I'm not," he pauses," real."

I watch him dumbfounded. I haven't thought of his insecurities, not even thinking he had any. He has always been so confident, even when he first got here he held himself with firmness.

I stand from the couch, and walk to him. I know just answering won't be enough. His animated eyes follow me, looking up with his head tilted back. I reach out and cup his face with both hands. I can feel the slight warmth radiating from his screen, nearly smiling as he nuzzles his face to my palm.

"Daniel," I start," There is nothing more real or loved than you. I would rather spend the rest of my time with you than have to tolerate a single conversation with another human. Don't you even doubt for a second that I would want some lousy man over everything you have to offer. I love you, and not because I think you are something that you aren't. I love my sexy robot boyfriend." I lean down, pressing my forehead to his. I watch as his eyes seemingly twinkle with admiration. His arms unfold and pull me closer, guiding my legs around his so I can settle on his lap.

"Thank you, Tracey," he just barely whispers. I lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, running my fingers down to his neck to hold his wires. He does his own form of a kiss, rubbing his screen to my forehead. I rest my head on his shoulder, fiddling with his cords between my fingers. I press short kisses to his screen, knowing he enjoys them so.

"Besides," I chuckle," I don't think normal men can turn into a vibrator." he sits up, leaning back to look down at me. He wears an amused but shocked face.

"Tracey, am I just a sex toy to you," he pretends offense," I say, perhaps your cousin Ethan will cherish me more than you are."

I bark out a laugh," shut up. He isn't allowed to have you." I continue chuckling as he rubs his screen to my cheek, groping my hips as he does.

"And no one is allowed to have you," he purrs. I pet along his head, clenching my thighs around his.

"I like it when you get possessive," I grin. He watches me from the corner of his eyes.

"And I like it when you grind into my lap," he pushes my hips into his. I playful swat as his hands, more content at sitting here for a moment longer. He catches on and sits back on the chair, pulling me close to lay against his chest.

We sit there in comfortable silence, holding each other. He pets along my back, tracing his fingers on the part of my spine open to the air. I run my nails over his chest, scratching at the plastic.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day with your family," he breaks the silence.

"meh, at least I have a great boyfriend to make it all better," I smile up at him. He grins back, leaning down for a kiss. Screen meets lips in a heartwarming embrace.

"Love you," he mumbles against me.

"love you too," I answer back.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Someone on my Archive asked for another Tracey and Daniel story. so while babysitting a child who bit me, i wrote this short story.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main blog

#robot boyfriend #robot x human #Tracey Romero #D-4N1-3L #monster boyfriend #exophilia #Enigma-IM

87 notes · View notes

bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

Helplessness and Good Food

I still can’t spell that man’s name wow. I also got my cap and gown and hood today from SJU and it’s just hanging on my closet door mocking me about the fact that I’ll never get to wear it, but at least it was free right?

But this was requested and here we are me still having more requests that I LOVE! Just ignore the fact that the title sucks ah

_______________________________

“Babe, I know you’re in pain, but I have practice in like ten minutes. I’ll be by as soon as I can with everything I’ve needed when I’ve had surgery.” You hear Matt running on the other end. He was definitely late to practice; you could picture him sprinting through the city on his way to Warrior just to get there in time so he won’t be scratched next game. “For now, Samantha is there to help you, and we’ve coordinated it so she doesn’t have to leave for work until I’m back. There’s even some overlap where you’ll have both of us waiting on you hand and, well, knee.”

You laugh at his attempt at a joke, “I’ll see you later. Have a good practice. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you hear him say on the other end, practically hanging up the phone before he can say it out of panic of being late. You try to shift yourself to a more comfortable position, which was hard given the complete immobility of your left leg. You had messed up your knee because of dance when you were younger, putting off the impending eventual surgery that you would need to get it fixed. Then you were out for a run, the first part of your normal workout, when you weren’t paying attention to where you were going, colliding with someone and busting your knee, much worse than it had been before. Matt and Samantha insisted you go see your doctor, only for him to tell you that you need reconstructive surgery because you tore pretty much all of the ligaments in your knee.

Trying to adjust yourself took at least twenty minutes before finding a position that didn’t make you writhe with pain. It was your first week at home and you still weren’t used to navigating your apartment without use of your leg.

“Hey, what do you need?” Samantha says, coming into the living room with more pillows, as if the four that were under your leg already weren’t enough as it was.

“Use of my leg?” She tries as hard as she could to adjust the pillows without sending pain through your leg. It didn’t work, but you know she was trying.

“Did you take the meds the doctor told you to take?”

“Yeah, this morning, but he also said try not to take them often, so I don’t want to take more until I go to sleep tonight if I need to.” You struggle to reach for the TV remote, hoping that you can put on a movie or something on Netflix to take your mind off your leg. It was just out of reach on the table in front of you; moving anymore to get it and you would be in pain for the next twenty minutes while you tried again to readjust yourself. “I’m so helpless!” you shriek as you give up.

“Well, yes, but at least now you have an excuse.” Samantha gets up and hands you the remote.

“Very funny considering I noticed that since I haven’t been able to vacuum, the floors are much messier now.”

“Touche.” She plops down on the chair, probably trying to think of the last time she even used the vacuum. “What time is Matt getting here?”

“Uh, his practice ends in about four hours? So in four and a half assuming he showers?” you tell her, trying to find a good movie to put on, “What should we watch?”

“How about that Ted Bundy movie. The one with Lily Collins and Zac Efron?”

You find Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile. It was one of your favorite movies; you had seen footage of Bundy before and the way Efron mirrored Bundy’s mannerisms was mindblowing to you.

By the end of the movie, you were ready to pass out, even though it was morning. “I haven’t actually slept well since before the surgery because of pain, so if I can fall asleep like this, I’m going to,” you told Samantha about halfway through the movie, feeling your eyes close then. You must have actually fallen asleep because you wake up with Samantha gone and Matt sitting on the floor, his head right by where your shoulder was on the couch. You mess up his hair doing your best to sit up so he can at least come sit up on the couch. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey, there, sleepy,” he says, pushing himself up on the couch, you lay your head in his lap, “How are you feeling?”

“Hurt. Helpless,” you pout.

“I know, Y/N, but you’ll feel better soon.” He runs his hand through your hair, letting your eyes close as he does it. “In the meantime, as I said, Samantha and I are here to literally 24/7. One of us will bring you something to make you feel better every day until you are as good as new.”

“Really?” you ask, your eyes lighting up, “Materialism at it’s finest. What did you bring me?”

“Well, today, some of the guys and I chipped in and got some stuff that we like to have after surgeries. So Torey got you a copy of Holes, which he said is his favorite book, Marchy got you a copy of Tales from the Locker Room from the 2011 season, I’m thinking because he’s on the cover,” he says, laughing, handing the two books to you, “Charlie got Chef Keith to make you the Dark Chocolate Sweet Potato Almond Butter Brownies that he loves and he’s like 90 percent sure you would love, too. Then Jake got you Oreos, Zee got you some Caramel Apple Spice and Egyptian Licorice Teas, which, I’m not sure why.” He keeps pulling out item after item from the bag. He apparently told the entire team you were having this surgery and literally every single one of his teammates must have gotten you something to keep you occupied during the time you were useless.

“How’d you even manage this?” you ask, sitting up so carefully so that you don’t irritate your knee. “The boys must love you.” You have to twist yourself around so that you can give him a kiss on the cheek, causing both of you to burst out laughing at how awkward it was, “I hate having half of me stuck in one place!” you whine.

“I know, I know. But trust me, the boys love you more than they love me. Jake would rather have you as a teammate instead of me.”

“So what you’re saying is, if we break up, the guys are keeping me and getting rid of you?” You lay your head back in his lap, getting comfortable again.

“Let’s not talk about us breaking up, and just go back to watching some TV. Try the cookies that Stephanie made, Patrice says she’s a great baker.”

“What kind are they?”

“I don’t know, he told me the French name and I don’t know.” He starts to laugh taking a bite of the cookie himself, “but fuck they’re good!”

“You,” you start laughing so hard you end up lifting your head from his lap slightly, “are getting crumbs all over me, you pig!” You brush the crumbs off of yourself, praying that Samantha actually vacuums so you don’t have to.

You spend the rest of the day just relaxing. Anything you needed, Matt got up so carefully and practically sprinted to get it to you; more water, he got it, your phone charger, he got it; something from your bedroom, he got it.

“What time is Samantha getting home?” he asks after you watched Perks of Being a Wallflower. It was getting close to dinner time, and it was a little weird that she wasn’t there.

“Uh, I’m not sure. Let me check my phone, maybe she said something?” you reach for your phone, still needed Matt to give it to you like Samantha had earlier, “Yep, she said she’s going to be home late. Probably after 7. Shoot, she was making dinner.”

“I’ll do it! What was she going to make?” he jumps up, sending you sitting straight up and pain rushing through you. You try to hide the distress from your face, not wanting to make him feel bad in any way for wanting to help.

“Babe, you’ve never cooked for me before. Help me move my leg from the couch to the table so I can sit up properly?”

He helps move the pillows to create a mountain under your leg. It felt so much better than having to stay stuck laying down on the couch like you had been the entire day, “Have I really never cooked for you?”

“No, we always order out.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” he says, running into the kitchen to try to figure out what to make. “Why do you have no food in here?”

“Maybe Samantha was supposed to pick up stuff for dinner on her way back from work?”

“Nope, I found some stuff!” he calls as you here clanging in the kitchen, hopefully, the noise of him trying to get pots or pans out of your cabinets.

“Babe, don’t break anything!” you yell to him. You don’t need him cleaning up knowing that he’s horrible at that, and knowing Samantha won’t vacuum for who knows how long. He doesn’t answer, and all you can do is stress watch episodes of The Office that you’ve already seen at least ten times already.

Samantha eventually comes home before Matt is finished cooking. “Oh, my god. What happened here?”

You look around at the mess you didn’t realize you and Matt had made. “The boys made me a care package and I guess Matt got a little crazy with throwing things on the ground?”

“What’s that smell?”

“He’s making dinner.”

“Oh no.”

“I know.”

“He’s never done that before!”

“I know!” The two of you squeal like giddy school girls, laughing after about how ridiculous you sounded. You and Matt were serious, but he had never cooked for you before.

“If it tastes good, keep him.”

“Well, I would hope she would keep me even if it weren’t good considering this mess is my fault. You need me around long enough to clean up.” Matt is balancing a bowl of food on his arm, another plate in each hand.

“What is this?” Samantha looks at the bowl that Matt set in front of her, obvious disgust on her face.

“Chili.”

“We had beef here?” you ask, turning to Samantha.

“I didn’t buy it and you haven’t been shopping in months.”

“Should we be scared?” you turn to Matt, a look of fake fear on your face that only makes him laugh.

“Will you try it first?” Matt begs.

You and Samantha look at each other, the fake fear turning into real fear. Where did the beef even come from? You hold up a spoonful of the chili, “Count of three?”

“Oh, come on!” Matt says.

“One, two, three.” Samantha counts down, both of you shoving the food in your mouths at the same time, immediately spitting it out.

“I love you,” you say, shoving the bowl at Matt, Samantha getting up to run to the kitchen and get rid of her bowl, “but that is God awful.”

“I’m ordering pizza!” Samantha yells. You can hear her opening the trash can and dumping the rest of the chili. “Whoever goes to get the pizza is also bringing the trash out, Matt.”

“Is it that bad?” he asks, looking upset as he takes a mouthful of his dinner. “Ok, yeah,” he spits it right back into the bowl, “That is horrible. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, babe,” you take his face in your hand, kissing his cheek, “You tried. You failed, but you tried.”

“I love you. I wish I was better for you, especially now.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Perfect or not, he’s taking this out, and getting the edible food.” Samantha comes back with the trash bag, dumping Matt’s bowl in too before tying the bag and handing it to him. “Go.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Matt yells as Samantha practically throws him out the door.

“You can still keep him.” Samantha jokes.

“I will,” you say as he comes back, plopping down on the couch with the pizza, giving you and Samantha each a slice. “Ugh, good food!” you draw out as Matt rolls his eyes at you, a smile spreading across his face.

#matt grzelcyk #matt grzelcyk imagines #boston bruins #boston bruins imagines #bruins #bruins imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl #nhl imagines

35 notes · View notes

miss-pearlescent · 4 years

Text

I Want You (M)

You know you are attracted to the incubus named Kai, but is it because he’s an incubus or because he is Kai? You’ll just have to let him show you.

Rated M for smut. Also: fluff advisory (o˘◡˘o)

The lace collar was itchy. The corset was tight. You tried not to breathe to hard as you saw him approaching, his lean body quick and agile. You focused your eyes on the queen, ignoring the longing to look over and see what Kai was up to.

It was the queen’s coronation ball, a special day to mark the unification of demons and humans in the kingdom. You had always thought she was fit for the role despite what others said, and you were glad for all the changes she brought to the castle. That included the recruitment of many demons from the other realm.

You weren’t entirely sure how things worked down there but you had heard that only the “goodest” of the bad were hired, whatever that meant. Either way, you had been able to make many new friends in the past couple of years, ones who were accepting and didn’t look down on you for being the stable master’s daughter.

“Boo,” a low voice whispered in your ear and made you turn. It was hard not to stiffen and let your jaw drop to the floor, so you quickly looked away instead, trying your hardest to concentrate on whatever the queen was saying.

Beside you, the handsome devil named Kai stood by your arm, back straight and arms behind his back. On any other day, he made you blush in his training uniform. But tonight, he wore a deep blue formal jacket and a gold sash branding him as one of the kingdom’s royal knights. The sight took your breath away, even if you could only see him from the corner of your eye.

“Good evening,” you whispered back.

He nudged your elbow. “I have something for you.”

Curious, you allowed yourself to peek over. “Me?” You tried to think back. It wasn’t your birthday. He didn’t owe you any favours. There weren’t any special occasions for gift giving coming up.

With a mischievous grin, Kai brought his arm forward and presented you with a small plate piled high with tarts, cakes, and biscuits.

Your eyes bugged out so much that you thought they were going to pop out of your eyes. “How did you get this? Dinner’s not even served,” you hissed.

In response, he put a finger to his lips. “It’s a secret.”

“You are...sneaky.” You put a hand over your mouth to cover your laugh and quickly took a lemon tart before anybody could see. Discreetly, you took a bite, loving the sweet and sour that mixed on your tongue followed by the flaky crust.

You noticed Kai watching you intently and looked away again. His stare was unnerving and you did not want to make a fumble of yourself on such an important night.

“Will you be needed soon?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Kai turned to the stage. “Soon. I am waiting for your father’s signal.”

You found your old man waiting at the edge of the stairs, wringing his hands on his lap. He was to usher all the knights onto the stage when the queen’s speech was over so that they could represent the solidarity of humans and demons fighting for the good of the kingdom together.

“How are things with your father?”

Your shoulders slumped a little bit. “They’re okay.” The two of you had had a quarrel the other day when you were manning the steeds and your father was burdened about the ball. He had stopped you in the middle of your work day and lectured you once again about finding a good husband, this time on coronation night.

But the thought of meeting a man at the ball terrified you. You were dressed up in clothes that you wore once in a blue moon, with your hair swept up into a beautiful braid and your lips painted rouge. It would be like a Cinderella story if you met the man of your dreams tonight and then he had to see you dressed in pants and tunic, shovelling horse dung all day. The thought that a man might turn his face away in disgust made you want to crawl inside a hole, especially seeing all the beautiful ladies attending tonight.

Besides, you liked things the way they were, and you didn’t want to meet a new man because that might mean that your friendship with Kai would grow distant. He always mentioned how he would be slightly jealous if his wife had a male friend as close as Kai was to you. Always the gentleman, Kai said—much to your dismay—he would be willing to stay away from causing friction in a relationship when you found a husband of your own.

If that ever happened.

“He’s likely taking his stress out on you,” Kai added while taking a bite of a small tea cake. “He’s been having to deal with all of us the past two weeks and I think it’s turning his hair grey.”

You smiled because your father did seem quite nervous about today. But everything was going well so far and you knew whatever happened tonight would be for the best.

You saw your father raise his hand and wave not so subtly. “That’s your cue,” you said in a hushed tone, taking the plate of desserts out of Kai’s hand.

He rubbed his hands on his pristine white pants—a nervous habit of his—and you bit your tongue to keep from telling him that the action might dirty his pants. It was too late now.

Kai turned toward you and opened his mouth, then closed it in a smile. “You have something here.” He reached out his hand and brushed his thumb against the corner of your lips.

You sucked in a breath. Looking down, you saw a crumb fall to the floor. Though he was simply helping you keep tidy, he might as well have branded you with his touch. Your lips were warm and tingly as he walked away, cracking his neck from side to side.

You watched, starstruck as the knights lined up and stood on stage, their backs stick straight and their uniforms gleaming with badges. When the commander stepped forward to give his speech, his voice cracked and there was a slight murmur of giggles through the room. But your eyes stayed on Kai as his mouth curved in a slight smile and his gaze grazed the room to land on you.

He winked.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you frantically stuffed a tart into your mouth, not caring about chewing.

“You know, he is an incubus.”

You turned to the voice and found one of the aunts of the royal family with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. You weren’t sure which aunt she was, just that she frequented the castle with her sons.

She cut you a look full of judgement. “A girl like you should not be spending so much time with the likes of him. His only goal is to ruin you, and I can see that you are already falling for the tricks up his sleeve.”

You looked down at the desserts on your plate. “It’s just a few cakes,” you muttered.

“A few cakes here, a few flowers there. All he needs to do is snap his fingers and you will be on your back in the hay bales for him.” The woman rolled her eyes. “You are blind if you think he isn’t playing this game with all the women in the castle. Do yourself a favour and find a nice stable boy who will still be willing to marry you while you’re young and untouched.”

Suddenly, the desserts made you want to vomit.

Your father didn’t say those kinds of words but wasn’t that what he meant in the end? Find someone who would be willing to marry you before you become old and alone?

You had known Kai for years now and knew from the first day that he was a demon, specifically an incubus. But was that why you were so attracted to him that you didn’t even want to entertain the thought of marriage?

You bit your lip as the audience clapped, because you didn’t want to believe the woman. Kai was not the type of person to do such a horrible thing and play with your feelings. Hell, that was why you stayed just friends with him. He had never pushed for anything other than friendship. He was just being himself.

It was simply you that fell for him.

Inwardly, you groaned and turned to leave the room. It was suddenly too stuffy and you remembered how much your dress itched and the tightness of your corset. You needed to leave and—

“Oof!” You bumped into a broad chest and steadied the cakes in your hands. An arm wrapped around your shoulders as you wobbled from the force of crashing into the man. You blinked upward, a little dazed. “How did you get back so fast?”

“I guess I used my demon speed to teleport here,” he teased with a slight shrug then switched to being serious. “You okay?”

You nodded and set the cakes down on a table before rubbing your forehead. “I’m fine. I was just going to...” What? Run back to the stables and sulk with the horses as you thought about a plan of attack for the new year so that you could get married and everybody will be happy?

Kai waited for a moment before looking around. “Did you want to dance? We can practice what we learned last month.” The two of you had inserted yourselves into a busy class held by the dance instructor that was hired for the royal family. At the back of the class, you remembered losing your breath as the two of you tried to keep up with the instructions while holding back your laughter.

The memories were fond and you were about to say yes when you saw the glare of the older woman from behind Kai’s shoulder. Quickly, you shook you head as you watched the waltz begin on the floor. “I don’t remember the steps.”

Kai’s expression fell to one of concern and mild rejection. You didn’t like doing that to him, but dancing in his arms again would make your heart soar way too high.

“Is everything all right?” he asked softly so that nobody else could hear.

Your gaze locked on his and you wondered if he could see all the emotions that were going through your mind. You wanted to tell him everything yet nothing at all because that would just make you vulnerable to him. Slowly, you shook your head, barely enough to be detectable.

He turned and held out his elbow. “Let’s go for a walk around the room then. Take my hand.”

Thoughts racing, you placed your hand on the crook of his elbow and followed him, ignoring all the gazes that seemed to follow you.

Were you what the masses considered a whore? But you had never gone to bed with a man.

Did they consider you a demon-hunter, a term for human women who slept with high-ranking demons so that she could move up the social ladder when no humans would have her? But, again, you had never slept with a human let alone a demon.

But all this time spent with Kai sure made it look like you did.

Was it wrong that you just liked being around him?

“You look very beautiful tonight,” Kai’s deep whisper interrupted your thoughts.

You blinked and your face flushed. “Thank you. You do, too.” Stuttering a little, you corrected yourself. “I-I mean, handsome. Though the clothes you wear are very beautiful.”

He chuckled and squeezed your hand. “But you’re the one getting all the lovely stares from both men and women.”

You looked around and wondered if Kai’s eyes were working properly. Those men and women were staring at her out of contempt for being with a demon, not for being attractive.

Even after all these years of mixing between the species, there was still underlying hate and prejudice beneath the surface.

“I think they are surprised to see the stable master’s daughter in a dress,” you muttered.

Kai laughed. “If I’m being honest, I was surprised, too. But you look like you want to rip it off the moment the ceremony’s over.”

“I do,” you agreed. “It’s stiff and I can barely breathe.” You tugged on the lace of your collar.

Kai squeezed your hand, tight. “Don’t do that.”

You looked over, startled by the change in his voice. It was gruff, a complete change from the soft gentleness that he usually spoke with. “What?”

He kept his stare straight ahead though now it was harder and his mouth was in a tight line. “Men are staring.”

You looked down and saw that the lace had moved a little, exposing even more of your breasts that were bound so tight that they nearly reached your chin.

Okay, that might have been an exaggeration but for somebody who barely had an breasts, this was all new to you.

And Kai was right, men were staring, and this time their eyes were focused on your breasts.

You flicked open the fan that was hanging on your wrist and fanned yourself lightly, taking care to cover your decolletage.

“This was what my father wanted, wasn’t it?” you said with chagrin. “For me to find a man who would be willing to marry me.”

“There are many men who would be happy to marry you,” Kai rushed in with his hard voice. “Lucky to marry you,” he added.

Your heart picked up its pace. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I am simply stating what I know is true.” Sometimes you wished demons weren’t so unreserved with their statements.

What could you say to that? Kai always had a way with words that made you speechless. He knew how to work his way into your heart, and you could do nothing but think about what the woman had said earlier.

“Is this your incubus side speaking to me?”

“Hmm?” He turned to you with a raised brow.

You gave him a stiff smile. “You are always such a smooth talker. It must make all the women swoon. Is that one of your demon powers?”

“No.” He gave you a slow blink and his lips curved into that mischievous grin once again. “But would you like to see some of my incubus powers?”

Did you? Honestly, yes. You had never been in contact with demons enough to witness their powers in real life. There were only a couple stories here and there about fire-breathers and levitation. It would be cool to see what Kai could do. Eagerly, you nodded.

“All right,” he replied and placed a hand over yours. “But you have to make sure you keep your hands on me or else every woman in this room might get a feel for my abilities.”

A surge of jealously bubbled in your gut and you tightened your grip.

You walked with Kai a few more steps before you were transported to a realm of darkness.

It felt like a dream.

You looked around and could only see black for miles and miles. You waited and as the seconds ticked on, your heart began to race.

“Kai?” you whispered.

And magically, he appeared before your eyes. You were relieved but only for a moment because you looked down and realized he was naked.

And you were naked.

And suddenly you wanted nothing more than to lie back and let him have his way with you. So you did.

You weren’t sure what was happening but you laid prone on the ground, your back arching up as your nipples perked. It seemed that just watching him stare down at you in such a vulnerable position was enough to get you turned on. Not to mention, his cock was standing up straight and proud.

You usually thought horses were too hung and disturbingly big but Kai’s was just...beautiful. It looked like the perfect length, with thick ridges that you were sure no human man had. The thought of that pumping inside you made your thighs quiver.

He crouched beside you and stroked your cheek, but all you wanted was his cock inside of you, and you didn’t care where. You licked your lips, ready to take him into your mouth and suck him dry.

He pressed a hand to your shoulder, pinning you to the ground with a chuckle. “This is my time to demonstrate my powers to you, not the other way around.”

You whined in protest and gave him a pout.

He shook his head. “I want you to see all the ways that I want to take you.” Your lips parted as a soft sucking sensation began between your legs and your thighs were pushed apart. “Look down,” he said.

You did as you were told and found Kai’s head between your legs, his mouth playing with your folds.

“I want to spend hours down there.” The Kai down there was busy, but his voice still filled your head. “I want to make you nice and wet for later.”

“L-later?” you panted as you felt a finger enter your slit.

Two hands appeared out of nowhere and suddenly you were flipped onto your knees, your hands holding onto an invisible wall. Kai was still sucking on your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you, but you couldn’t turn your head to see.

Instead, another Kai materialized in front of you, his two hands rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Later, when my cock fills your tight pussy, I want you to scream my name.”

“Kai...” you were already ready to scream his name as you felt a hollowness in your belly. You wanted to beg him to mount you like one of the stallions to the mares.

“You want it dirty like that?”

You bit your lip as your legs trembled. He was pinching your nipples hard and his fingers were also hitting the perfect spot inside you at the same time. You weren’t going to last long.

Kai’s lips found a sensitive spot on your neck. “Control your breathing. People are looking,” he murmured.

For a moment, you didn’t know what he was talking about, but then you were transported back to the ballroom and found that the tops of your breasts were heaving and you were dripping between your thighs as you continued to pace around the room with him.

You drew in a deep breath and fanned yourself, trying to cool off.

“Ready to go back?” his low voice reached your ear and you gave a small nod.

You were thrust back into the darkness again with Kai’s lips and hands all over you. You cursed because the brief break and sudden onslaught of his ministrations nearly pushed you over.

“Would you like to know what I would feel like inside you?” he purred.

You gulped and nodded, desperate to feel him stretching you open.

But then suddenly everything stopped and you let out a small whimper as you fell to your hands and knees, your heat sopping wet and your body shivering with need.

A hand tilted your chin up and you locked eyes with Kai’s handsome face.

“This is just a dream,” he said. “You are not a ruined woman if you agree to this.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of yours. “But I want you, and I want you to know it. You have been what I longed for for years.”

You paused. “I am just a stable girl.”

“Just a stable girl?” Kai let out a breathy laugh and kissed you again, this time lingering on your bottom lip. “You are the smartest, most hard-working woman I know with the biggest heart. You treated me like a friend from the start, even though you knew I was a demon.”

Your cheeks turned red. “I might have been harbouring a slight crush.” Your cheeks turned redder still. “And I might still be harbouring that crush, but I know you are an incubus and I know you can have any woman with the snap of your fingers,” you said, quoting the older woman from earlier.

He was just a breath away and you wanted his kisses so bad, but you knew you had to finish explaining yourself.

“I was scared of getting hurt in case I was just a friend in your eyes.”

Kai’s chest rose and fell as the moments passed by. “I know you told me you wanted to wait till marriage, but would you like to know how I see you in my eyes?”

You licked your lips and he followed the gesture with his liquid stare. “Yes.”

And all at once your body was covered in white fabric and a bouquet of flowers dropped into your hands. You looked down and realized you were wearing a big wedding dress.

You scanned the area and found yourself standing alone in a garden. “Kai?”

“Boo,” a raspy voice came from behind you and you whirled around to find Kai in a black suit, his hair slicked back and his teeth shining as he smiled down at you.

“What is this?” you asked, sweeping your arms around at the rows of chairs lined up in the garden.

He scratched the back of his neck, another nervous gesture of his. “I always wondered what you would look like in a wedding dress.”

“Really?” You looked down and smiled. “I like it.”

“Mm,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your exposed neck. “I like it, too.”

You sighed as all the arousal from earlier rushed back to you in waves every time he sucked on the spot on your neck. It was as if that caused all the other parts of your body to feel the suckling too.

Then you felt hands on your hips and something slide between your slit. Your eyes widened. “What was that?”

“It’s me again,” Kai said, raising his head. “Would you like to see?”

You nodded and the Kai in front of you disappeared. You craned your head and found him behind you, holding your hips with your dress flipped up, his thick cock slicking himself against your entrance. “You have a lot of playroom with your power,” you pointed out.

He smirked and canted his hips again. “I like making you wet and I will use all the tricks up my sleeve to do it.”

You felt fingers flicking your clit and nipples, yet Kai’s hands were anchoring your hips and your bodice was still laced up tight. This couldn’t be possible.

“If you want a hundred tongues on you, I could make that happen,” he said proudly.

A hundred might be overkill, you thought as you keeled over from the pleasure, holding on tightly to one of the chairs. Your senses were being overloaded as he teased every part of your body.

“I’m going to give you what you want, my love, don’t you worry.”

“Wait,” you moaned, reaching for one of his hands. “I’m scared I’m going to come.”

“And?”

You squeezed his hand to keep from rubbing against his cock. “We are in a full ballroom.”

“No, we’re not.”

Cool air brushed your neck and you opened your eyes, finding yourself in a dimly lit garden.

“I have you.” Kai’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder, holding you as you leaned against him on a quaint wooden bench.

You could see the party through the big windows of the castle, bustling with lights and laughter. Out here, it was quiet and private, but still within view of anybody who stepped out onto the balcony.

Any onlookers would only see a man trying to comfort a poor woman.

You steadied your breathing, a little bit disappointed but at the same time relieved. “When did we come out here?”

He rubbed your flushed skin with his thumb. “When I couldn’t hide my hard-on anymore.”

“Oh...” You looked down and blushed at the sight of his length straining against his white pants. “I’m sorry about that.”

He barked out a laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not the one who was two seconds away from an orgasm.”

You clutched your fan. “Is it too late?”

He cocked a brow and you jumped in your seat as you felt something prodding your core.

“Oh!”

He pulled you in, letting you rest on his shoulder. “It’s never too late,” he murmured. “Are you ready?”

You raised your hip onto your side as if giving him more entrance though you knew he didn’t need it. Your panted against his neck as you felt his cock stretch your lips wide.

“That’s it, my love. Take all of me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as his fingers dug into your side. “Fuck, you are so hot and tight.”

You moaned and opened your legs farther apart. “I need your tongue.”

“Where? Tell me.”

You clutched his golden sash in your hands as he pushed inside you a little more. “Everywhere.”

And suddenly you understood the beauty of a hundred tongues on your body.

You sank your teeth into his uniform to muffle your scream as tongues flicked your little nub, helping you open up wide enough to take his hard length all the way down to its base. And the ridges. Oh, the ridges. You felt them as they entered you but you felt them more as he withdrew, pulling back just enough so he could surge back into you.

“Kai!” you cried out against his lapel as you felt the first orgasm hit you. Your body shook with every thrust he made. He made sure to drive all the way to the hilt with every stroke. He ordered the tongues to change up their speed, slowing down and softening the small circles on your clit and nipples.

But he didn’t stop them. “You are so beautiful. I want to watch you come apart like this forever.” Tenderly, he kissed your forehead again, a small gesture that was so different from everything else he did to your body.

And you loved it. “Yes, more. More.” You were going to come again. Your pussy was throbbing around him. You kissed his neck, wishing you had the guts to claim him as your own even as you clawed his uniform with need.

“I am yours,” he said, as if hearing your thoughts. “Even if you marry another, I will always be yours.”

You pulled back but the orgasm hit you before you could correct him. You squirmed in your seat, feeling juices pool out beneath you, as you stifled your cries in your hands.

“Stop,” you choked out. “Kai, stop.”

In an instant, everything stopped and you slumped against him with a contented sigh. You closed your eyes and drew in deep breaths, trying to organize your thoughts.

“I don’t want to marry another,” you declared.

You felt Kai freeze against you.

“If you would take me as your bride, I would like to be married to you.”

It was a bold confession, but you knew it to be true from the bottom of your heart.

Kai’s voice was serious as he spoke. “This is not just because of my powers, is it?”

“Oh, your powers help,” you said with a happy giggle. You leaned back and took his face in your hands, the way you liked to do whenever you wanted to tell him something important while he was being a jokester. “But I do love you, and I think I always have. You are brave to take a job in a world that is against you, yet you are kind to those that are not your kind. Like me.”

His eyes softened. “Because I love you.”

You kissed him gently on the lips. “See? You are sweet and make my heart flutter. I want to marry you.”

He pulled you in for a fuller kiss, wrapping his hand around your neck and messing up your braid a little. Images of you bent over hay bales with your breeches down to your ankles, ready to take his cock flooded your brain.

You moaned.

More images, this time of you in a wedding dress, riding Kai’s cock to orgasm atop a galloping horse.

Your pussy began to clench again.

When he pulled back, the both of you were breathless. “And I am the luckiest male, demon or otherwise.”

---

HULLO. DID YOU THINK I WOULD WRITE ABOUT A SUCCUBUS AND NOT ABOUT INCUBUS!KAI??? >:) Hope everyone is enjoying their holidays!!!!!! This is my thanks to you for all your love <3 Please know that I see your replies to the stories but I don’t know how to reply to them using my fanfic account and not my main account LOLLL I appreciate each and every one of them!

PS: I also wanted to squeeze one more writing piece into my 2019 list hehehe

PPS: this story was inspired by yet another one of Larissa Ione’s novels :3 I read Passion Unleashed in 2015 and parts of it have stuck with me to this day! The hero is an incubus and the heroine is a human. At one point, he projects himself into her dreams and does dirty things :) And her swallowing his cum makes her uncontrollably aroused. I love amazing ideas from amazing minds *chef’s kiss*

#exo #kai #exo scenarios #kai scenarios #exo fanfiction #kai fanfiction #jongin #kpop #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #kpop scenarios #smut #demon #incubus #cute #fluff #fantasy #writing #romance

126 notes · View notes