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#and told them to be careful about who they were addressing
mrs-illyrian-baby · 3 days
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Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | One Shot? 3k
Things are missing around the Avengers' compound and a newly returned Bucky is acting weirder than normal...Steve and Sam go to investigate and discover more than they bargained for.
Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestion of Hydra violence/torture/experimentation, omegaverse themes including alpha & omega, suggestion of pregnancy/pups, wolf shifting Rated F for Fluff and G for good friends
Challenges & Prompts: @buckybarnesevents Alpha Bucky April with extra prompts - word count, nesting, purring, beta characters, (I'll let mods decide if this hits the breeding/baby fever prompt). And @fandom-free-bingo 'forehead kisses'
Graphic by me and Canva, dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes
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“Hmm,” Steve looked around the supply room, surveying the gaps and empty shelves, normally well stocked with blankets and provisions. It was the third time this week he’d found himself at a loss, not just for words but his things too. Everything seemed to be going missing. 
First it was a few plates and mugs from the galley kitchen by his office, then it’d been the lunch he’d left for him and Bucky in the fridge. Last night he’d gone into Bucky’s room to make sure he was okay and found the man sleeping on a bare mattress, all the sheets, pillows and blankets were gone and the newly revived Bucky refused to explain what had happened to them or even acknowledge that there was anything wrong at all. He hadn’t even addressed that fact that the window was wide open and it looked as if he was sleeping in his shoes. 
Which brought Steve’s thoughts to the man himself. Bucky had been so odd since he’d returned. For a day or two, he’d been something like his old self, despite the awful situation they found themselves in, he’d joked with Steve and reminisced with the few memories he had. They’d enjoyed a beer together and he’d even met with Tony during their mediation and patched things up. 
Then, they’d all climbed onto the jet and he’d become distant, pacing like a caged animal until they’d landed. As soon as the doors were open he’d vanished for forty-eight hours and sent the entire compound into mayhem before strolling back in as if nothing had happened, bruised and covered in blood. Judging by the bandages he sported later that day, his cuts and bruises spread under his shirt and trousers too. 
Steve knew that he’d changed during his time with Hyrda, back in the 30s they’d both been betas, happy to plod along ignoring the madness of the few alpha’s in Brooklyn. It had been a rare thing then, to be an alpha, now they were considered a dying breed, so when Bruce’s tests had revealed that Bucky was an alpha now, they’d tried to take it in their stride that he might go off on his own sometimes, especially since omegas were even rarer. But there was still so much they didn’t know, so much to unpack and discover about the Bucky they’d rescued, and Steve was so desperate to spend time getting to know this new man that all the time apart was making him worry. 
“You okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, leaning in to hand Steve a hot cup of coffee. 
“Just doing a stock check.” 
“He take something else?” Sam stepped into the small room, lined with shelves and shelves of tents, camping stoves, parachutes, it seemed to go on and on. The bare grey shelves where stock was missing was stark against the white washed walls. 
“He?” 
“Barnes,” Sam sipped his coffee, matter of fact, and Steve confronted the worry that had been plaguing him. 
“It’s Bucky, isn’t it?” Steve dropped his head heavily and Sam patted him on the back, still sipping his drink. 
“Sorry man, told you, he’s not right yet. He’s not hurting anyone though, if he hates his bedding, who cares, if he hates your lunches, who could blame him.” 
Sam sidestepped Steve’s halfhearted swipe with a grin on his face. 
“But what’s he doing with it, Sam? Where’s it all going?” 
“Hell, I don’t know, have you asked him?” Sam raised his eyebrows. 
Had Steve asked his best friend, who flinched at his touch and shied away from any conversations? Bucky who vanished for hours at a time and came back looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too scared to confront what might be going on, what latent part of his programming might be at play. 
“Look, if you’re too scared to ask why don’t I?” 
Now it was Steve’s turn to raise his eyebrow, it wasn’t that Sam and Bucky didn’t get along, they just didn’t get along yet. Steve was working on it. 
“What if we…followed him?” He offered instead and Sam laughed again. 
“Who knew Captain America was scared of his own friends,” he couldn’t contain the chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let’s keep an eye on him.” Sam turned to the ceiling, more comfortable with the AI than Steve was. “FRIDAY, if Sergeant Barnes leaves his room, please can you alert us - privately?” 
“Of course,” the soft voice answered and Steve gave his friend a weak smile. 
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FRIDAY’S alert went off twice a day, every day, over the next week. But despite their best efforts neither Steve nor Sam managed to catch up with Bucky. 
It wasn’t until the following Saturday that they managed to follow him. Bucky was supposed to be at a training session to get his official certifications but they’d both had a feeling he’d try and skip it. As predicted they’d spotted the blue of his new henley edging around the side of the compound, a full backpack strapped to his back. 
Bucky ran across the grass and towards the thick forest. His still uncut hair was tied back but tendrils fell out as he sprinted into the wind. 
He was surprisingly loud, as he strode quickly between the trees, snapping twigs and branches that Steve knew he could’ve dodge even before the serum and his training. Sam looked at him, both of their feet silent as they followed. 
Bucky’s speed increased as he turned his face up into the breeze, his backpack jostled against the trees, bouncing when he began to run. 
Steve kept up, sending Sam wide, into the breeze, in case Bucky doubled back. 
Just as he was starting to feel lost in the repetition of trees and ferns, Bucky burst into a clearing and Steve slammed to a halt. 
The pine trees gave way to a small patch of clear sky, shining down on an old shed. Unlike the other abandoned guard houses, this one had obviously been cleaned recently. The small porch was swept and a pair of Avengers camping chairs were arranged neatly facing into the forest. A line had been strung between the cabin and the trees where one of the missing blankets fluttered in the gentle wind. 
Steve crouched down, motioning to Sam on the other side of the clearing to stay out of sight. 
Bucky approached slowly, “Cățeluș, are you here?” 
At first there was nothing and then a wolf nosed its way out from behind the door, it’s chestnut brown fur almost gold in the sunlight. It leaped forwards from the porch and shot across the clearing, leaping into Bucky’s arms. 
Steve whipped his head up to try and find Sam and by the time his eyes found Bucky again the wolf was gone, replaced by a woman pulling on a large t-shirt from Bucky’s backpack. 
“James!” Her sweet voice rang out in the otherwise quiet forest. 
Swamped by Bucky’s familiar red henley, you shot from the door and into Bucky's waiting arms, the back pack dropped to the floor and forgotten. 
She was swamped by Bucky’s red henley and he wrapped you in his arms, one large hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his neck. The other supported your legs, now wrapped around his waist. 
In the clearing Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he sank into your embrace, kissing and nipping at your neck. In return you tipped your head, practically purring at the attention and wriggling in his arms. 
“Have you been okay, baby.” Bucky asked, pulling away enough to look you over. 
“I'm okay, I missed you though, James, please don't leave me again.” You begged cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands. 
Bucky turned into your palm and kissed it, “I know, I know, I’ve been making sure it’s safe for you.” 
Steve's heart sank. Bucky didn't feel safe? 
“You trust me, don't you, my little omega.” Bucky rubbed his nose into your cheek and you giggled, holding him even tighter, your hands in his hair. 
An omega? 
Sam stared over at Steve, eyes wide. 
It was clear to them both that this was no chance encounter and all Bucky’s odd behaviour suddenly started to make more sense.
Steve motioned for Sam to leave, they could sneak back to the compound and perhaps bring this up tentatively. Perhaps leave some items you might like lying around in the hopes that Bucky would take them and understand that his secret was out, but it was safe. 
Sam moved swiftly round the clearing as Steve continued to watch Bucky. 
Bucky vanished into the cabin, leaving you on the porch alone, snuggled into his shirt and pressing the collar to your nose. 
“She’s cute,” Sam whispered, squeezing up against Steve, still hiding in the overgrown ferns that lined the edge of the cabin. 
“We can’t let her sleep out here. She must be hungry and cold.”
Bucky emerged from the cabin carrying two of the missing mugs, balancing them carefully on the railing before scooping you up into his lap. His hand hovered by his mouth, sipping in slow motion as his eyes scanned the tree line and Steve took a breath, sitting back quickly. 
“Stay here, Cățeluș,” he was up in a flash, eyes always on the tree line even when he reached into his boot to pull out a familiar gerber knife. 
Instead of flipping it into his palm, he balanced it on the arm of your camping chair. Eyes still on the trees he placed his metal hand on top of your head, “stay here and stay safe, follow the plan, do what you need to.” His voice was low, series, almost a growl. Far away from the happy, loving tones he’d been speaking to you with before. 
You nodded, and as soon as he felt your head move he was up and off the porch. 
Steve and Sam looked up in time to see a wolf leap towards them. 
It was true then, the experiments had worked and Steve had the cold feeling that returned every time he discovered something new about his friend during a fight, but he had no time to worry about it now. Not when the wolf was closing in on them. 
It was huge, its white fur dusted with fallen leaves, but its teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pounced, snarling. His paws the size of dinner plates slamming into the ground in front of them, teeth bared and snarling. 
Steve rolled away, pulling Sam with him and covering his body, regretting not bringing the shield. 
“Bucky!” Sam shouted from under Steve’s arm
“Bucky it’s us we don’t want to hurt you!” 
The wolf pulled back from the two men pinned beneath him, and something like clarity passed over Bucky’s icey blue eyes and he sat on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears floppy. Then it stood, rounding the bushes and, in a blink, the man had reappeared still hiding before the foliage to cover his naked body. 
“Steve -” Bucky looked thoroughly confused, 
“Bucky, we’re so sorry we shouldn’t have followed you.” 
“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice wavered, his body cold without his fur and with his clothes left behind in the cabin. 
“We were worried about you, man, you’ve been so weird - stealing stuff, going missin’, can you blame us for getting creeped out?” Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky’s brow furrowed. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to -” he gestured back towards the cabin and, as if remembering he’d left you behind with no way of knowing he was safe he turned and ran back to the clearing. 
Steve and Sam jumped up, chasing after Bucky once more. 
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The cabin porch was empty when Steve picked his way down the slope of mud and rocks into the clearing. 
A howl rang out as he got closer to the little house, a high, pained sound and then the response came, low and level. 
There were two wolves now, hidden at the side of the cabin in the shadows.
The white wolf kept itself half turned towards Steve and Sam, who kept quiet and still, barely daring to breathe, allowing its companion to approach slowly. 
The brown wolf dropped in front of the white, ears flat back against its head, and then rolled over, showing a soft belly that the white wolf nuzzled gently before turning back to Steve and barking sharply. 
Steve held his hands up and the wolf barked again, turning tail and returning to the cabin. 
It took only moments for Bucky to show himself on the porch, pulling his henley back down over his now dirt streaked belly. 
“Come in,” he gestured up the stairs and vanished again. 
The cabin, though run down, was well kept. The porch was swept of leaves and there was even a little mat by the door. 
“Shoes,” you whispered, pulling on Bucky’s sleeve as you entered the main living space, making an attempt to hide behind him. You’d dressed again too, also in one of Bucky’s henleys and a pair of leggings that Steve recognised as Avengers recruit issue. 
“Do you mind?” Bucky asked while Steve and Sam stared between you both. 
“Shoes,” you turned to look up at Bucky again, eyes pleading in one moment and then flicking to the two new men treading mud into your home. 
“Your shoes, take them off.” Bucky helped them arrange their boots neatly by the door while you pottered around the fireplace. “This is her nest,” he whispered, making sure the doormat was straight and the little curtain was neat over the window. “It’s important to omegas, to her,” you turned shooting a glare over your shoulder, “to us-that it’s kept just right and she hates shoes inside.”
In the small living space a camping stove had been set up with a kettle, a portable fridge, and an assortment of mugs, both Avengers field regulation and novelty, which were set neatly on the mantel. You chose four, and placed them next to the kettle while it steamed happily away. 
Bucky spoke softly to you in a mixture of English and Romanian, but you didn’t come any closer to the strange men. You’d seen them before, on the television and in Bucky’s notebooks, but now that they were here, so large and imposing, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look over. 
“This is Cățeluș, well, that’s not her real name but we couldn’t find that. She - uh -” you watched Bucky struggle for words and lay a hand on his cheek, smiling warmly up at him. Your Winter, your James. “-I don’t want to say the word, it upsets her, but she was with me when I was - him - part of the experiments.” 
You poured the tea quietly, watching the steam rise into the darts of sun making their way through the broken knots of wood in the wall, and you took a deep breath. With shaking hands you gave the first man, Sam, a cup. He had a gentle face, a wide smile and he didn’t look at you with pity, as you feared, only interest. 
The second man held his breath as you approached, keeping his hands as close to his body as possible until you pushed the cup towards him. Steve. Bucky had lots of pictures of Steve in his notebooks and had told you more stories than you could remember, but he didn’t look sickly, he looked too big for the space, his shoulders drawn in, slouched. You appreciated that he was trying not to look scary, even though your every nerve was on edge.  
Bucky took the proffered mug from your hands with a kiss to your forehead and you sighed, allowing him to steer you to the only arm chair in the room and then passing you your own tea. 
“We got out, eventually and - I brought her here.” Bucky sat on the rolled arm of the chair, draping his own arm over your shoulders and fitting you into his side. 
Steve and Sam could only stare. 
“Why didn’t you bring her to the compound? She can stay -” Steve turned to you, “you can stay, either in Bucky’s room or you can have your own room if you’d prefer.” 
It took you a moment to process the offer, but eventually you shook your head, turning into Bucky’s side. 
“It was awful - in there, with them she, we both -” Bucky struggled for the words, the desire to protect you rising inside 
“It’s okay,” Sam said carefully, “I know the transition’s been rough on you, Bucky, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her, how you even got her out here. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, maybe she’ll come with you? If you suggest it?” 
Sam kept looking at you, his eyes soft and encouraging but you turned away, pressed your face into Bucky’s ribs where his scent had soaked through his shirt, reassuring and primal, chanting in your head Alpha, safe, Alpha, safe. You did miss him, when he was gone, but how could he keep you safe in that place. 
You’d seen it, once or twice, through the trees when you took a walk, looking for whatever you could find in the forest. Guards left lots of things behind, bottles and coats and jackets, useful things. You collected them all, skirting around the edge of that horrid white building and hoping to never see the terrifying things that flew out of it, men in suits and robots, it was too much. 
“You can bring whatever you like with you, and maybe Nat and Wanda could help you with some new things, if you liked?” Steve followed Sam’s lead, keeping his voice steady and low. 
“James - my nest.” You mumbled, gripping his henley in your fist. 
He dropped a hand onto your head, “we can do whatever you like, baby. You want to stay here, we can stay, you want to go to the compound, we’ll go.” 
You felt Bucky’s heart rate pick up, its beat hammering and your anxiety grew too, your breathing more ragged, you turned even further into him, practically climbing into his lap, the henley you’d taken from him riding up. 
Instantly you knew it was a mistake, the scars of your time in Hydra were still visible, raised on your skin, yellowing patches of healing bruises and calloused skin from repeated bouts in the chair. 
Sam and Steve could barely conceal their inhale of breath. 
“Bucky, did you get her checked by a doctor or…” Sam trailed off, Bucky looked angry again, his arms fully surrounding you. 
“And what would I have said, Sam?” He growled, “I know she looks like she’s been kept in a cage and beaten but please don’t arrest me, I promise it wasn’t me? Her social security number? Sorry, I don’t have it, we don’t even know her name. I did the best I could.” His anger tipped over into a resigned sadness. Bucky cupped your face in one hand and forced you to look up at him, “I did the best I could, baby, I really did.” 
You nodded and his grip loosened so you could nuzzle into his chest again, your own tears running down your cheeks at the memory of those early days. Bucky’s shaking hands patching up your burns and cuts, the whisky you’d slugged before he pulled out a stray bullet from your arm and stitched it with floss. Every touch had been gentle though, every time he’d changed your bandages or cleaned you up, it had been gentle. It had been everything he could give you. 
“We didn’t mean it like that, Buck,but we could help, get her checked over and then you can come back here.” Sam’s voice was plaintive, deliberately soothing and it made Bucky’s blood boil. 
“I’m not taking her to that place.” He bit back, there was no mistaking the way he curled you into his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back. 
It didn’t hurt anymore, to be touched, but then it’d never hurt to be touched by James. His hands had always been careful with you, his strength used only for protection and it was for that reason that you lay your trust in him completely. 
“Don’t make me go, Alpha.” You whispered, your lips brushing the base of his neck where you’d marked him, right over his scent gland, your teeth marks an eternal brand. You nuzzled into him, your chest rumbling again. 
“I won’t make you go,” he looked back at Steve and Sam, the finality of his decision sat heavily in the air. 
“Can we at least bring some medical things here? Would you let Sam check you out?” Steve offered, he was increasingly concerned by the way Bucky had retreated into the chair, his own legs now curled up on the overstuffed cushion.
Above you, James nodded once, “just you and Sam, don’t tell anyone else. I’ll know if you tell anyone else.” The panic edging Bucky’s voice had Steve raising his hands in surrender. 
“I promise, Buck, just Sam and I.”
Sam and Steve left the cabin at dusk while you and Bucky watched from the deck. As soon as they were beyond the trees he pulled you even tighter against his chest, his heat warm. 
“Everything is going to be okay, baby, I promise, no one’s going to ever, ever, hurt you again.” His hands slid down your arms and across the slow swell of your belly. “But we should consider their offer, make sure we’re making a choice that’s good for you and me, as well as them.” His palm pushed up under your shirt, splayed on your tight skin and, deep inside, your pup pushed back. 
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brokenpieces-72 · 14 hours
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Graves has no choice but to be present on the day Makarov addresses the force, but he keeps to himself while blending in. Makarov doesn’t bother himself with Graves expecting him to stay in line. At least at first.
Then he notices your empty desk. Graves had cleared it of your personal affects, including photos and personal documents.
“We’re missing an officer?” He wonders aloud while Graves files through some reports.
“Officers Graves, you’re missing a partner?” He asks.
“I am perfectly happy being single.” He replies with a good hearted smirk. “The desk is open, we had an officer resign.”
“I see. Very well.” Makarov walks away before Graves can try to make another smart comment. Graves sits up straighter in his chair though.
“That… that is impressive.” Gaz comments as he enters the warehouse seeing the mural you were working on for Los Vaqueros. You look down at him from where you were perched on a railing of a sort of cat walk.
“Thought a cowboy motif would be fitting. Alejandro told me there were good men and women who died here during a raid. Wanted to honour them.” You exclaim. You roll your shoulders and arms hearing a few cracks. By now your bruises were yellow, nearly healed. Your pants are covered in paint, and you old hoodie was warm enough to keep your from freezing in the dropping temperatures. That and Gaz’s very kind delivery of tea. He climbs up to you on the cat walk, and hands you the thermos. Just holding it warms your fingers in your fingerless gloves. He leans against the railing with you admiring your work.
“Figured a mural was the least I owed them. Can’t imagine Soap and Alejandro don’t have some tension going on.” You say, gingerly sipping your tea. Yep you still burned your tongue.
“Speaking of them… Alejandro and Rudolfo have been recovering from a failed raid.” Gaz says. So it begins.
“Makarov.” You say. Gaz nods, shoving a hand in his pocket sipping his own drink. Things were going to be flipped on their head and spun like a top. It would take some time getting used to. Thankfully the 141 was making the transition for you as easy as possible. The nights your father spent with them you were always a part of the conversation. One night there was a promise made to help take care of you if your father couldn’t.
“Ran into Alex at the shop, apparently he found a smaller piece of yours, with I think he said a pillow fight.” Gaz mentions trying to change the subject. You smirked at that knowing the piece he meant. You side eye Gaz who returns it, and you toast your cups. You take a sip and think for a moment.
“Has Soap said anything?” You ask Kyle. The two of you hadn’t really talked since the night you needed safety. Even then it had been brief and awkward.
“It’s how he is.” Gaz says. He’s taken notice of how you two have interacted and Soap talking about you less than he had. “It’s not that he hates you, I think he needs to talk to you. Simple as that.”
“So this is where you’ve been.” A voice came from below and behind them. They both turn to see a face they weren’t expecting.
“Rudolfo. Come on up mate.” Gaz says, offering the bruised man, a hand up. Rudolfo eases himself up through the railings and looks up at your work in progress. He gives a friendly smirk.
“Alejandro will like this for sure.” He says.
“Least I could do after everything. How is he?” You ask, looking up at Rudolfo.
“Nothing can kill Alejandro, except Alejandro.” Rudolfo says. “Unfortunately, nothing can get him to rest either. He’s worried about more drug shipments getting past us when we can be stopping them and destroying them.”
“Sounds like Alejandro.” Gaz says taking another sip of his drink. You stare at your work while taking a sip and think for a bit. The three of you all stand there in silence for a bit. You keep asking yourself, how would dad do it? He could break cases open, getting gangsters like Soap and Gaz to bring the hammers he needed for it. Now Makarov was in the picture too. Which meant needing to hide the hammers right after and hope he would bring glue to repair it.
“Could tell him.” You suggest looking at Gaz. It takes him a minute to realize who you’re referring to. Graves was an insider now. Graves also had to be removed from the case after Makarov returned. Gaz considers it and Rudolfo listens. They were informed about Graves and his involvement as well. It was risky, but if you couldn’t be your father, maybe Graves could step up in a way.
Kyle looks at Rudy. “You know when the next shipments are coming in?”
“We have guesses. So far they’ve been using fishing boats, so they don’t have to claim cargo.”
“They’d need a warrant to start searching.” Kyle adds.
“What if they got one?” You ask. “I mean… who’s to say it’s only one fishing company.”
“We don’t hit innocent.” Kyle points out. “But…you may be on to something.”
“If proof of illegal activity was brought forward to the company itself, investigations would have to start. If Graves is at the forefront…” Rudolfo trailed off.
“Where do we start?” You ask, trying to keep the smug look off your face. You may get to see them in full action.
“We first get Alejandro’s permission. Then we get more information from Laswell. After that we prep for the raid.” Kyle explains.
“I can arrange that. Will have to bring him to see this.” Rudolfo says, gesturing to the mural.
“Wait until it’s done.” You say smiling. “Thinking of adding something a little extra.”
You head back with Gaz to the hideout. He’s teasing you for all the paint you got on yourself.
“At least it’s not on the scarf.” You say stepping inside.
“At least it’s not still wet, you’d have to take your clothes off outside so you don’t track paint.” Kyle teases as you take off your boots. You notice Soap leaning on the fire escape outside. Kyle just gives you a nudge and no words. You take your boots off and carry them to the back door leading out to Soap. You put them back on to join him.
“May I join you?” You ask. He looks back and nods. You step outside and sits on the steps, rubbing yours hands together, trying to warm them.
It’s silent between you two again. There’s just the faint sound of wind and the usual traffic down below.
“Saw Rudolfo today.” You say, squirming on the step.
“How is he?” He asks looking over to you.
“He’s doing better. Still a little rough. Alejandro is getting restless about the shipments though.”
“You don need to worry bout that.” Soap says, facing back to the streets.
“I am worried about it, because it’s what I should be worried about.” You say.
“You don. You’re not a cop anymore.” Soap exclaims. It doesn’t sting as much as it once had.
“…cop or not this is my home now.”
“You have a hom-“ Soap starts but you interrupt him.
“No I don’t. This is my home now.” You say looking up, with him looking at you now. “This city is my home. It was my dad’s home too. If the cops aren’t gonna fight for it, then who else will? I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for an opportunity anymore. You gave me one, I’m not letting it go again.”
Soap looks at you for a while. “What opportunity?”
“When you let me tag on your turf.” You say.
Soap thinks for a minute, and then scoffs. “Stubborn as your old man.” He says.
“Nothing like my old man.” You respond.
“Not at all.” Soap says sarcastically. You smile.
“I really am sorry for lying. Throughout that whole time I was debating whether to even report anything or tell you what I was doing.” You say, rubbing your neck.
“Why didn ya?” He asks, turning and leaning back against the railing. You shrug.
“Felt more at home here.” You admit
“At home? What home?” He asks.
“With you and everyone you introduced me too. Barely known Ghost that long and I feel safer around him than by myself.” You say. Soap smirks at that. Safer around Ghost of all people? That’s a new one.
“I knew you might’ve been a cop. Just hoped ya weren’t.” Soap admits. “Let’s get inside. Gonna snow soon I bet.”
You both go back inside, feeling more relaxed around each other than before. Price steps in the front door just as you two step in from the back. He’d been popping in and out the past week or so never staying for long. This time he was grumbling something.
“Ye aight Price?” Johnny asks.
“My own deliveries are backed up for the bar.” He exclaims. “Graves came by as well to tell me, in person.”
You wonder if Graves did it to maintain cover or to ask Price how you were. You don’t voice it.
“Nikolai can handle it but it’s clear they’re trying to make money difficult. Farah came by, saying a few real estate companies were scoping her neighbourhood. A couple kids threw water balloons at them.”
“I like those kids.” You comment, imagining soaked suits and irritated scowls.
“Alex is on damage control there.” Price says, finally setting his jacket aside. He stepped into the kitchen, stretching and taking a beer from the fridge while you and Johnny join him. You sit up on the bar stool again.
“Makarov is stretching out. He wants more than just us, he wants everyone.” Price states. Johnny leans against the counter arms crossed, Kyle joining at the bar.
“Why now?” Johnny asks. “Could’ve struck b’fore.”
The question is weighty and is left in the air for some time. If your dad was keeping Makarov under control why did he leave?
“Because of me?” You suggest. Johnny, Kyle and Price both look at you. They consider it, but there’s not much to support your answer. “Maybe… he can manipulate the police easier because Graves knows me, and wants me safe. If Graves acts out, Makarov can put me in the crossfire but now I’m not so he thinks it’s easier for him to fuck with the system…maybe?” You try to reason.
“Not entirely out of question.” Kyle mutters.
“Something to consider.” Price says. “We can’t just go at it expecting to find something we don’t know is even there. For now we support where we’re needed, and test waters. Makarov having the police on his side is a problem, but the question is how hard he uses them.”
“Speaking of, we got a tip from Rudolfo. Alejandro may want our help on a drug raid.” Kyle adds. “We need to figure out where the shipments are coming from though. Maybe try to convince Graves to get a warrant.”
Both Johnny and Price went quiet at the mention of Graves again.
“I hate to play devil’s advocate and I know you don’t like it, but Phil is the only one we have directly on the force. We can lead him to where the problems are and book it when he gets close.” You say.
“They’re not wrong.” Kyle agrees.
“Something we will consider.” Price offers. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the exact shipments, and then deciding what to do. It’s Alejandro’s operation, we go through him first.”
Ghost came in and everyone turned to look at him. In his arms is a bundled up hoodie while he shivers in a long sleeved shirt on. You get up quickly, hurrying to take the bundle from him. By now you’d seen Simon with enough animals to know he puts great value in them. Sometimes over himself, hence the hoodie not on his back.
When you take the hoodie you bite your tongue trying not to awe at the tiny, furry, adorable, cute, wittle bundles of claws and teeth in your arms. You stare at them and look up with your eyes at Simon, who is brushing the remains of snow off himself.
“Take em to your room, get a blanket.” He orders. No one else matters but these kittens, which you take to your bedroom without a word.
While you are getting a blanket and a small shoe box for them to stay in, Ghost gets a different hoodie to help him warm up. The mangy black cat, hops on to his shoulder while everyone else just watches.
“Congratulations?” Johnny asks Simon as you come back into the kitchen.
“Keep them from their shitty father.” Simon grumbles. As he leans against the counter the cat hops off his shoulder and on to the counter. “It’ll give the kid something to do when we’re out.”
“I thought I was coming with you guys.” You pipe up.
“We will think about it.” Price says, sounding a bit like a dad.
“I’m not a child.” You grumble.
“If you do come on the raid it won’t be like arresting someone, it’s shoot to kill and keep your eyes open the whole time. No one is walking with side arms, they have uzis and AKs. Some fire wild too.” Kyle reminds you.
“I’ve done a raid before.” You try convincing them.
“You’re stayin.” Johnny says with finality. It’s not out of anger or irritation. It’s meant as words of warning, that this was bigger than what you’d encountered and he didn’t want you in the line of fire. Literally. You drop your head with some swallowed disappointment. You want to help. But you don’t want them worrying about you.
“One condition?” You ask. Johnny shifts his posture to listen.
“Okay two conditions… first one is all four of you have to come back after that raid regardless of what happens, preferably with Alejandro and Rudolfo too.” You stare each one down. Not very intimidating but they’re lenient.
“What’s the second condition?” Ghost asks, their silence an agreement to your first condition. You look directly at Simon.
“I get to name at least one of them.”
Alex steps into his small home, hanging his keys on the hook. As he shuts the door, the kitchen light turns on down the hallway. Very carefully, Alex turns the lock on his door, pulling out his side arm. He stalks toward the kitchen until he hears a familiar voice.
“I needed bandages…”
Alex sighs and holsters his gun before going to a hall closet and getting a small first aid kit.
“If it’s worse than I think, I’ll drag you to hospital.” Alex warns and enters the kitchen, seeing Farah with a few scratches. She’d come to him with worse. Her clothes are still damp too. Alex has to hold a laugh picturing Farah throwing a water balloon at a bunch of realtors.
“You want anything to drink?” He offers setting the kit down. “Was gonna make myself some food and then sleep. Now I have company.”
Farah opens the kit and gets the cotton and alcohol.
“Happy to provide.” Farah says as she starts cleaning. Alex starts making a sandwich for Farah as well. Farah was a good person, defending her home and neighbourhood. Alex was still on the force but with the new chief commissioner he was tempted to resign. Take some security job to pay off bills. Graves had been asking him to stay on though. With the sketchy land deals going on by Milena Romanova, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Alex sets a plate down in front of Farah and he sits by with a plate of his own.
“You didn’t have t-“
“I wanted to, now eat.” He says pushing the kit aside. Alex and Farah had an odd relationship. Farah would often drop in like this. Alex had made it a habit to do the same on her every so often.
“I need a favour.” Farah admits after a couple bites.
“Only one?” Alex teases. “Go on.”
“There’s an artist I want to hire.” Farah explains. Alex looks at Farah.
“Need a loan?” He asks.
“No. I need you to look the other way. A small peaceful protest to get the realtors to leave us alone.” Farah explains.
“You have an artist in mind?” Alex asks. Farah gives him a smile that gets covered by an another bite of sandwich.
“This is really good.” Farah says through a mouthful.
“Thanks.” Alex says chuckling.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝obsessed? i admit it…• h.hj
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✰ pairing - hyunjin x idol!reader
✰ warnings - kisses, mentions of panic attacks, angst and fluff
✰ word count -
✰ notes - i hope the anon who requested this likes it :c i changed it a bit so i’m so sorry
✰ sypnosis: your relationship with hyunjin was steady at the moment, until a large ripple occurs and it gets hard, but it’s all okay, he’s here.
masterlist | requests open!
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after one last kiss, you finally patted hyunjin on the thigh, signaling him to let go of you. 
with a low whine, he released your waist from his vice-like grip, smiling with slightly swollen pink lips that made you want to kiss him again. 
“bye bye, my lovely y/n.” he sang while you walked to the door, smiling sweetly at him. 
you made sure you weren’t being followed. 
being an idol meant the fans could never find out about your relationship with hyunjin. not if you wanted death threats or creepy stans. 
you grabbed a drink at a random place, and stopped at your apartment. 
your phone was ringing the whole way up, though you made sure to check it once you got home. 
you audibly gasped the second you opened the phone. photos of you flashed across the screen, from just a few hours ago, heading to hyunjin’s house. 
your blood turned cold. they had pieces together everything. 
it wasn’t a secret anymore. the picture collages of you and hyunjin ran through your mind like a freight train, along with all the comments, your members worried voices over the phone, and the way the company would react. 
oh my god, what if they terminate my contract? 
your tears flowed down your cheeks out of nowhere, unbothered rivulets of your sadness washing away. 
you never meant for this to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen. 
you only realized that you practically ruined hyunjin’s career when videos of fans sending protest trucks flashed on you for you page, the messages making you sob harder. 
the knocks on the door didn’t even register in your brain until you heard his frantic voice, your sobs growing louder as you ran to the door as fast as your feet could take you, slamming it open and falling into his arms. 
those arms. the ones ready to take you in, the ones ready to comfort you. he wasn’t mad at you. 
“shhh…there there. you saw, huh?” 
you nodded, ignoring the worried voices of your members in the call behind you. they still had a little while before they reached; you were in japan other than korea to follow solo schedules. 
hyunjin hummed your favorite song in an attempt to calm you down. something about seeing you cry broke something inside of him; hyune knew he couldn’t bear it and it wouldn’t take long until he started crying with you. 
your members’ voices quieted in the background, it was just you and him, hyunjin and you. nothing else mattered, you didn’t care about anything else. 
he kissed your cheeks to rid the tears, smiling at you and playing with your hands. 
“i-i ruined everything. your career…everything!” you cried out, breathing was getting harder. 
“no…no. i’ll be okay. you’ll be okay, and we’ll be okay, yeah? everything will work out. it’ll be hard, but it’ll be okay.” hyunjin sighed, thinking while wrapping his arms around your drawn-in frame. 
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
stays cheered in ecstacy, hyunjin taking the mic from one of the members. even though you had told him it was risky, he had told you to come to the concert. 
so there you were, center row, with a lightstick and jointer in your hands, a wide smile gracing your pretty features. 
hyunjin cleared his throat, and the crowd quieted. “um, so i guess you guys have heard the rumors about me and y/n, and i want to address them.” the crowd gasped collectively. 
“they’re true. i love her, this isn’t going to be a short one month, two month thing either. i want forever with her.” he smiled at the other members, and chan sniffled a little, felix running to comfort him. 
“i want you to respect our decision. i would really appreciate it. thank you.” he gulped. 
the crowd was silent, all eyes on you. 
then they cheered. 
you grinned, tears shining in the corner of your eyes. it would all be okay. 
hyunjin may be a little obsessed, as you were with him, but it’s alright. he admits it, and you have to admit it too. 
hyunjin was yours. only yours, and you believed in happily ever after with him. 
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lifblogs · 1 year
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Blocking everyone. No one makes sense anymore.
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713-4th-ward-g · 11 months
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.
#what sucks is the moment someone is super nice to me 😭 i start to liking them a lot#why am i like this 😭#i get shown any kind of decency or any genuine kindness I start to really like like them#then end up ruining the whole mood by telling them I like them 😂#i suppose finding some more attractive cause they're super nice to me stems from my childhood trauma LMAO#gotta love being a neglected kid 😭😂 it doesnt help when they're extremely pretty too 😭😭#lmao#what's wrong with me have some sense 😂 I know that just cause a person is nice to me doesnt mean they like like me or they even like me 😭#but i still can't help but start liking them 😂 its also probably cause i finally feel like someone cares about me 😭 then it goes back to#childhood trauma 😂 dude i cant lie being neglected while still having both parents is some thing else#cause its like I had both but they were always at work and when they got home would be so mean to each other mainly my dad to my mother;#the only did they'd ask if i was hungry but by the time grandma came to live with us that stopped and so they would not really talk to me#like i was talking to my cousin Richard on the night of the party; he asked why i dont talk to my dads side of the family#and he's super drunk and starts belittle and make light of the situation before i even start the main reason. so i told him to stop talking#over me and let me finish and stop belittling and making light of the reasons why i stopped talking to them entirely#then he got butt hurt and ended up waking his wife who was sleeping in the living room to go home.#i swear i have issues that i have yet to address lol and going to therapy doesnt work cause it makes me super uncomfortable so i stop going#after the first visits#😮‍💨 i can be so overwhelming why am i like this just cause they're nice to me doesnt mean they actually like me or even like like me 😭#i need to be better at accepting people's kindness without falling attached or like liking them a lot LMAO.#personal
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dredshirtroberts · 28 days
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listen. I know my family is bad at communication and acknowledgement of receipt of Thing but when the one thing that consistently happens semi-annually is that I get fussed at for not confirming I received something, it irks me a smidge.
Like if I'm expected to always confirm "Hey I got your [communication/gift]" then why aren't they doing it back? Especially considering the communication in this instance has really actually very important information they will want to know if they want to stay in contact with me.
Like????
Even if I'd just gotten a "K" in response, like. at least it would have let me know they got the damn thing. I sent this email TWO WEEKS AGO and only one person responded - and it was practically immediate too. Like... i know folks are busy, i know shit's going on. I get it. But it would help me feel so much less like I'm suddenly a pariah in the family out of nowhere if like one of the people I'd sent this to had just responded in some way shape or form.
I'd have answered a phone call - i wouldn't have liked it, but i'd have done it. A letter in the mail to my current address even. a message in a bottle probably wouldn't get to me because i'm pretty far from the beaches of the great lakes, and also they're even farther, but like. something right?
my sister at least confirmed she got it and just forgot to respond. i imagine that's what happened with everyone else because we have the same mental illnesses and look. i do it too. but also? also?? i was hounded to respond quickly to things, i was told off every time i wasn't responding within a half hour of any communication. I was asked instantly the next time they saw me if I'd gotten it, even if i hadn't had a chance to see the thing yet.
So forgive me, family, if I'm a little peeved off that all y'all are allowed to "forget to respond" for two whole fucking weeks and then a few extra days (because it's been 2 weeks, 3 days exactly) when i can't let something sit in the mailbox for 2 days because i couldn't get to my mailbox easily while living on my own without getting a phone call or text or email that there should be something waiting in there for me.
*enraged screeching*
#literally the deadline i gave them for my address change was Monday#technically they have until the 8th but i didn't give them that room because i feared they'd use it#and my birthday is this upcoming week and like. idk i was kind of looking forward to maybe getting a card or two perhaps that's silly of me#to look forward to receiving specifically birthday correspondence for my birthday idk man#like i don't have a lot of space to judge i'm also really bad at keeping up lines of communication but when someone sends you#an update with a deadline about when they're moving and to where exactly#and also a big update on a health issue that like. they've mentioned MULTIPLE times#it's generally considered courteous to at least SAY YOU RECEIVED THE MESSAGE even if you didn't have a chance to read the whole thing yet#like????????#angry i am so angry#like yay my sister responded to the text IT TOOK 2 WEEKS AND ME POKING HER ABOUT IT#again i know. i know people are busy and have other things going on#why did *I* have to be the one who came up with work arounds and ways to avoid doing this to other people when no one else does it for me?#why was *I* the one always getting fussed at and told off and lectured about how rude i was for not getting back to people in a timelymanne#but it's fine for them to IGNORE ME FOR 2 FUCKING WEEKS#like fuck *off* with that bullshit i'm so fucking.........#i mean it. about the others. if my grandparents i sent this to and my other aunt don't respond they don't get any more updates on me#i don't tell them when i move next or where i've gone. if i change my phone number again they don't get it.#like. if you're not going to do me the courtesy of saying ''i got your message you sent''#AFTER I'VE SENT A FOLLOW UP TWO WEEKS LATER#then you don't get to stay in touch because you clearly do not care about it.#....i already feel like i'm extremely unwantable and like no one will ever desire to stick with me long term#having the family members i spent the majority of my life being around not respond to me does not help that#the SINGULAR person in a whole list of recipients who responded quickly (and also thoroughly but that was *wholly* unexpected)#was someone I barely got a chance to know when I was young because of weird family drama I don't care about#because it doesn't fucking matter y'all are adults now act like it#like. the most supportive member of my family is a woman i thought disliked me on principle because i was my father's child#and it turns out no it's my dad who's the fucked up one who judged her children just because they were hers#cause he hates his sister for some fucking reason.#when she's genuinely the nicest and kindest person i've ever met in my whole family like???
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pucksandpower · 5 months
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Your Friend Steve
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: it’s finally me and you, and you and me … just us, and your friend Charles
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r/relationshipadvice
u/yourusername · 9h
My boyfriend (26M) and I (22F) cannot get a second alone!
The two of us have been together for a few years now. We met through mutual friends and really hit it off. He’s caring, thoughtful, and we have the best time together.
The issue is ... his best friend (26M) is ALWAYS around. And I mean always. We’ll be out to dinner and bestie will show up and pull up a chair. We’ll be cuddling on the couch watching Netflix and he’ll let himself in with the spare key and wedge between us. I swear this guy is like an overeager puppy sometimes.
The other day I came home with my boyfriend and bestie was there ... sleeping on MY side of the bed because he “got lonely” at his place. And don’t get me started on trying to plan a vacation for just the two of us. Without fail, bestie always finds out where we are and shows up.
I’m happy they’re so close and I’d never want to get between them or ask my boyfriend to pick. But his best friend is starting to feel like a third wheel in our relationship. I jokingly said to my boyfriend that at this rate, bestie will be part of our engagement and marriage too!
I could really use some outside advice. How do I kindly set some boundaries with my boyfriend’s overly-attached best friend? I want all of us to still be friends but the constant third-wheeling is getting to be a bit much.
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u/relationshipguru123 · 8h
Wow, this sounds really annoying and awkward! Hate to say it but your boyfriend needs to step up and set some better boundaries with his friend. As close as they may be, it’s not ok for him to let his friend crash your alone time constantly. It’s disrespectful to you and your relationship. If your bf won’t address it, you’ll have to be the “bad guy” and talk to the friend directly to give him a reality check.
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u/NeedMoreSpace · 7h
I feel you, OP! My sister deals with this with her husband’s best friend too. They even joked that the friend would be IN the delivery room when they have kids one day 😳 She finally sat down with her husband and told him that while she cares about the friend, she needs some lines drawn for their marriage’s sake. Maybe suggest setting one or two date nights a week that are just for you two? And no dropping in unannounced! Compromise is key.
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u/BFFboundaries · 5h
This behavior would drive me CRAZY! You need to put your foot down with your bf and tell him his friend’s constant presence is affecting your relationship. Then talk to the friend together to make it clear you just need some alone time as a couple sometimes. If they don’t respect reasonable space, it will breed resentment.
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r/relationships
u/DutchLion · 5h
Help! My best friend (26M) is cockblocking me without even realizing it!
I (26M) have been together with my girlfriend (22F) for a few years. She’s awesome — fun, hilarious, and crazy sexy. She puts up with my quirks and even likes watching sports with me. Absolute keeper!
The problem is, my best friend has NO boundaries. I love him like a brother but he has zero concept of personal space or alone time.
Just last night, my girl and I were enjoying some long overdue freaky time together, when who bursts through the bedroom door unannounced? Yep, my best friend. Turns out he “accidentally” made copies of my keys ages ago.
Before I can react, he’s jumped onto the bed between us asking what we’re up to. My girlfriend was mortified and hurried to cover up. There went the mood for the rest of the night thanks to Captain Cockblock!
That’s just the latest in a long string of intrusions. Double dates, surprise sleepovers in OUR bed, you name it. I’m going to have to lock down the apartment Fort Knox style to get any intimacy!
Don’t get me wrong, I would take a bullet for my best friend. But how do I politely tell him that constant third-wheeling is killing my game and giving me the most painful blue balls known to man? Is there a tactful way to set some boundaries so we BOTH stay sane and satisfied?
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u/CantUnseeThat · 4h
Dude, I felt awkward just READING this! Major props to your girlfriend for being so chill. You gotta have a talk with your boy and set some hard lines. A real best friend would respect that your relationship needs privacy too.
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u/Locks4aReason · 3h
Your friend needs better boundaries yesterday. Sit him down, tell him you get he’s lonely but he can’t just walk in whenever, especially when sexy times are happening! Maybe suggest setting him up on some dates so he finds fulfillments elsewhere.
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u/needabroboundary · 3h
As much as you love your best friend, your personal life with your lady should be a priority over letting him run wild! Have a man-to-man talk and make it clear you just need some couple time a few days a week. Offer to schedule some designated bro time to keep that bond too. Gotta compromise.
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u/needspace321 · 2h
Don’t feel bad about setting some hard boundaries, even if it bruises his ego at first. True friends will understand. Explain you just need some regular alone time with your gf. Offer a standing weekly bro night to keep the friendship intact too. You need to have that balance!
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r/AmItheAsshole
u/PrinceOfMonaco · 3h
AITA for wanting to spend time with my best friend and his girlfriend?
Some background — my friend (let’s call him M) and I go way back to childhood. We’re basically as close as brothers. A few years ago he started dating his now serious girlfriend (we’ll call her Y).
Initially, I’ll admit I was worried M would drift away and our bromance would fade. But much to my delight, Y is awesome! She likes the same sports, laughs at my jokes, and comes to watch our competitions. Honestly it feels like I gained a sister!
Naturally, the three of us started hanging out constantly. I know me and M have always valued bro time together. But now Y joins our gaming sessions, I ride along on their date nights often, and I will even crash in their guest room after late nights! It’s been pretty great.
Or so I thought? Lately I’ve noticed them acting strange and tense around me. They barely react when I barge into their room or surprise them by their cars after work. Sometimes they pretend to be “busy” if I try making plans last minute.
I can’t figure out why though? Just the other day, I popped by to say hi only to have M rather sternly tell me I should “call before visiting from now on.” And I could swear I heard Y whisper about needing “boundaries” … whatever that means!
I’m starting to feel hurt they suddenly seem fed up with me! AITA here? Am I missing something? Someone help me decode these mixed signals!
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u/needboundaries101 · 3h
YTA. I know you value your friendship but your total lack of boundaries is overbearing. Your friend is trying to set reasonable limits without damaging the friendship but you’re oblivious to all hints. Surprising them and inviting yourself along all the time is inconsiderate. Give them space!
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u/respectrelationships · 3h
Soft YTA. I get you cherish the bromance and her friendship too. But constantly crashing date nights, unannounced visits, etc is cockblocking to the max! They likely feel too awkward to bluntly tell you that they need alone time too sometimes. Tone down the clinginess before you do permanent damage!
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u/flying_solo · 2h
NAH but only because you seem genuinely unaware your behavior is an issue! Most people would have picked up on the hints by now. You should DEFINITELY be calling ahead before visits or tagging along to closed plans. Give them a chance to say no thanks. Gotta let your bro spread his wings too.
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u/threesacrowd · 2h
YTA. You would lose your mind if your best friend was this invasive during your dates! When they make excuses or leave early, that’s NOT an invitation to join them unasked and uninvited next time! They’re just too polite to be harsh so I’ll spell it out — you have to give them personal alone time without taking offense.
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, and 1,273,948 others
charles_leclerc happy third anniversary to my favorite couple ❤️
View all 3,085 comments
maxverstappen1 thanks, mate!
charles_leclerc i’m going to pick up some dinner from that italian place we all like and i should be at your place in around 20 minutes
yourusername we really appreciate that, charlie. but you know … it’s our anniversary and we would like to celebrate alone
charles_leclerc i totally understand! that’s why i’m taking the food to go so we can celebrate alone with just the three of us
maxverstappen1 yeah but we want to ✨celebrate✨ you get me?
charles_leclerc you want me to stop and buy some sparklers?
yourusername what we’re trying to say is that we want to celebrate … in bed
charles_leclerc even better! your mattress is so comfortable and we can put some netflix on while we have a sleepover together
landonorris they’re literally spelling it out for you in black and white 💀
pierregasly mon ami, they’re trying to say they need some adult time tonight 😏 maybe skip the visit this once
danielricciardo how do i say this nicely … max and y/n are clearly desperate for uh, anniversary cuddles without you as the little spoon!
lewishamilton someone rescue my man charles from himself before it’s too late. praying the two lovebirds to get to celebrate properly tonight 😉
charles_leclerc of course we will all celebrate properly! i have champagne
roscoelovescoco read’s the room’s 🙄
f1wagupdates i can’t tell if charles is trolling them or if he genuinely doesn’t get it 😭
charles_leclerc what is there to get?
yourusername i give up 🤦‍♀️
yourusername … what flavor popcorn do you want for our sleepover?
charles_leclerc white cheddar, please!
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evasive-anon · 3 months
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Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower
Fanon vs Canon
We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.
What I'm addressing:
What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Did Jason drug all the other Titans?
Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?
Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?
Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?
Was Tim crying or scared?
Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?
Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?
Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.
What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.
Look at these opening lines:
Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.
Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.
There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:
You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.
TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.
What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.
Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*
Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?
Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.
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Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.
Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?
Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.
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Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?
No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.
Does Jason break Tim's staff?
Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.
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Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭
Tim crying/ being scared?
Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.
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Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.
Message on the wall in Tim's blood?
TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.
Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.
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Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?
Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.
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eldritchdreamss · 2 months
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Dick is good at hugs but I just know that Jason is all soft muscle until he flexes, which means he gives the best hugs. One of the Crime Alley kids finds out about this when they hug him after he saves them from being mugged and word gets around to the other kids about it. The first few times he’s asked for a hug when he checks on some of the kids shelters he’s a little surprised but obliges anyway, now when he’s out on patrol and one of the street kids sees him and asks he doesn’t hesitate. He knows there could be a million reasons why they’re asking, and if it helps them, then who is he to say no?
One night it happens while he was on patrol with Dick, they had started taking a break together semi-regularly, Jason still wasn’t at the manor often because he still felt awkward around the family, and Dick is just happy to spend as much time with his brother as he can get. So imagine Dick’s surprise, when they’re waiting for their food at a food truck, one of the kids comes up and asks Jason for a hug and he gives one without a second thought. Dick is just standing there like “????”, thinking there’s no way he saw what he just saw. That is until the kid leaves after and Jason immediately turns to him and threatens that if he tells anyone what he just saw he’ll never talk to him or the family again. Dick, of course, says he won’t tell anyone. And he doesn’t. He’s just glad his brother has people there for him.
For a few weeks Jason is ready for someone to ask or start teasing him about giving out hugs while on patrol when they address him, but no one even comes close to mentioning it. The next time he’s on break with Dick he asks why he hasn’t told anyone when he very easily could have.
“You asked me not too Littlewing.” he said, as if that answer meant anything at all. Dick must have seen his confusion because he spoke again. “You care about them Jason, it’s clear they care about you too. Of course I wish you’d open up to the family a little more, but I’m not going to tell them something you clearly didn’t even want me seeing. Knowing our family they’d push for an answer as to why or something and they’d only end up pushing you away instead of letting you open up on your own time.” he explained. Jason stared at him, that was the last answer he was expecting to hear.
After a few moments of finishing their food in silence they got up from the edge of the roof they were sitting on and threw their trash away. Jason watched as Dick started to the edge of the roof before finishing patrol, stopping at the edge to face Jason to say something. Jason wasn’t listening, one second he was watching his brother leave the next he was hugging him. His face flushed with embarrassment but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. “Thank you..” he murmured, vaguely aware of Dick’s arms hovering around him almost hesitantly for a moment before squeezing him back. They stayed like that for a few moments before they had to let go to finish their patrols. If Dick heads back to the cave more chipper than he usually is after patrol then that’s nobody’s business but his own that he just got a hug from his little brother, something they hadn’t done since even before he had died.
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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
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All This Love
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3
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Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.
Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.
Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.
And then he met you.
You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.
You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.
He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in. 
The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.
Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…
The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.
He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.
This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.
“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.
“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.
“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.
“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.
You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.
“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.
“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.
You turn back to him and smile.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.
“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.
“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.
“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.
“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.
“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.
“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.
“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.
“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”
Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.
Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.
You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.
“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.
“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.
“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.
“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.
“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.
Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.
You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.
Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.
“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.
“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.
You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.
“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.
“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.
“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”
His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.
Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.
The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.
“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.
“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.
You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.
“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.
“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.
“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.
“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.
“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.
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Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.
Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.
“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.
“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.
“Say goodbye again.”
Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.
When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.
“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.
“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.
“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.
“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.
Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.
“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”
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“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.
“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.
“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.
Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.
“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.
“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.
“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”
“–I’m pregnant.”
Jake freezes, and so do you.
“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.
“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.
“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.
Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.
“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.
“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”
“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.
“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.
“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.
“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”
Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.
“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.
“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.
You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.
“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”
Jake sighs, but nods grimly.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sir!”
Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.
“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.
“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.
“Yeah. We.”
Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”
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Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.
“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.
“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.
“He’s been practising with me,” Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.
That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.
“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.
“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.
Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.
“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.
“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.
“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.
“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.
“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.
“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen. 
He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.
Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.
“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.
The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.
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Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.
He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.
“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.
“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.
His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.
“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.
Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.
Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.
“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.
Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.
“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.
“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.
“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.
“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.
“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.
Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.
“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.
“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.
“No,” he says.
“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.
“Fine. Maybe.”
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hazbinwhoree · 2 months
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ADAM WITH A HEAVY BREEDING KINK WHEN???
Come Inside
Part 1/2 Part 2
A/N: This shit is absolutely sinful.
Adam’s breeding kink, much like his virginity kink, was rooted in his abandonment issues.
Normally, (Name) would feel a need to address that (therapy friend), but she couldn’t really care when he was inside of her, fucking her like he hated her.
Adam’s sex drive never failed to impress her. They’d already had sex that morning, and they were just watching a movie when suddenly he was on her again.
“Adam,” she giggled as he sucked on her neck. “We literally had sex two hours ago.”
“Not my fault you’re so fuckin’ sexy, babe,” Adam said against her neck. He continued marking her, one hand slipping under her shirt and fondling her breast, and one hand travelling down to rub between her legs over her sweatpants.
(Name) moaned. Adam removed his face from her neck and connected their lips in a passionate kiss. (Name) slipped her fingers under the base of Adam’s mask and pulled back. She looked at him, the question in her eyes. Can I? Adam nodded after a moment.
(Name) pulled his mask up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. (Name) smiled, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head forward to kiss him again. Adam kissed back with vigor, forcing his tongue into her mouth.
The hand fondling her breast pinched her nipple, and the hand that was rubbing between her legs suddenly slipped under her sweatpants and panties.
(Name) gasped, throwing her head back. Adam licked down the column of her neck. He slid two slender fingers into her, and (Name)’s breathing became heavier. He scissored his fingers experimentally before adding a third.
(Name) sighed, her head falling forward and resting her forehead against Adam’s.
Adam didn’t spend long loosening her up before shedding his own pants and boxers. (Name) began to tug her sweatpants down until Adam got impatient and yanked both her sweatpants and panties down to her ankles. (Name) kicked them off.
Adam sat down on the couch, manspreading and showing off his dick. “Come here, baby,” he patted his lap. (Name) crawled over and into his lap, his erection pressing against her pussy. She briefly realized they both still had their shirts on.
Adam seemed to realize it too. “We’re fucking like Winnie the Pooh.”
(Name) giggled, but it quickly became a quiet moan when Adam squeezed her tits, swiping his thumbs over her nipples. She ground down against his dick and they both moaned. She raised herself on her knees to allow Adam to line himself up with her opening.
Once he did, she sank down, letting out a gasp as he stretched her once again. “Ride it,” Adam demands, grabbing her ass. (Name) did, for about a minute, before her pace slowed down as her legs got tired. Adam got impatient, squeezing her ass and thrusting up into her, fast and hard.
It caught (Name) off guard, who cried out. She held onto his shoulders like her life depended on it, as Adam fucked her like he was mad at her.
So was his pace usually.
Tears brimmed at the corners of (Name)’s eyes. “Fuck,” she hissed. Adam stared at her intently. “Yeah? Does this feel good, babygirl?” (Name) whined. She loved when Adam talked during sex, he was always so dirty.
“Is my cock filling your pussy just right? God you’re so hot, you make me want to put a baby in you.” (Name) gasped, nearly reaching her peak. “Gonna cum so deep inside you.”
(Name) came, clenching around Adam’s dick. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him, the tightness pushing him over the edge. He snapped his hips upwards, burying himself to the hilt, and came inside of her.
(Name)’s stomach grew warm. She panted, moving to get off of Adam, but he grabbed her hips and pushed her back down on his dick. (Name) let out a strangled moan, overstimulated. Adam held her in his lap, keeping her plugged with his cock.
“Can’t waste any of my cum,” he told her, smirking. “I was serious. I’m gonna put a fucking baby in you.”
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Text
Little Hare
Requests:
Request: Dark Feyd writes his name on the reader’s back with his dagger.
Wordcount: 3.1K+
Masterlist
Description: A party where you didn't know anyone would be awful. But it is to honor your husband and his success on the planet and there is nothing you wouldn't do for him. Until Feyd believes you have disgraced him and he'll have to punish you.
A/N: First fic for Feyd it isn't as dark as I wanted it to be but I hope you all enjoy it. I had fun writing this and will definitely love to write more of him either with this reader or not. This is the same reader from my Feyd HC.
Warning: Dark Feyd. Blood lots of blood, crying, pain, dacryphilia, possessive/ jealous Feyd, murder, violence, death, dagger kink. Smut, breeding kink, dubcon,
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“Na-Baroness, would you care for some wine?” The male servant asks for a second time. This time, Irulan nudges your shoulder. Reminding you that is who you are now. You are no longer a Princess, but the wife of Feyd-Rautha.
“Oh, forgive me,” you apologize, curtsying lowly to the servant. Irulan scoffed by your side, but you paid her no attention. “I am still unused to the title.”
The servant, like most people that were graced with a smile from you, flushed and shook his head. “You never need to apologize, Na-Baroness. Would you prefer to be addressed as princess?”
You wanted to. You liked being a princess. You liked the kind smiles you realized when you were just the emperor’s daughter. Now you get looks of caution, worry, and pity when someone addresses you. All in fear of your blood-thirsty husband.
Your marriage was still in its early days with the wedding taking place only 2 months prior. You were often fell somewhere in the middle of terrified and fascinated by your husband. You were told almost nothing about him until the day of your wedding and then it was only his awful points.
And you didn’t blame them. He was an awful man, but he was also ambitious and strong and there were moments when you saw an actual man within him. One that made sure your favorite foods were stalked on the planet Arrakis or took walks with you late at night. Claiming the warriors were not equipped enough to guard you.
“That is very kind of you, to think of my comfort, but I will have to get used to it,” you said, kindly touching the servant's hand gently for only a moment. “And I also am not drinking wine tonight. If there is any Rossie's cider, I would love a glass.”
The servant flushed more and bowed to you. “Right away, princess,” he said before walking away.
You smiled despite yourself at the term turning to face Irulan’s scowl. “You must stop being so nice to everyone. And you shouldn’t allow him to tell you, Princess. You are not a princess once more.” Her tone was harsh and her glare cold, but you knew it was all for concern for you.
“Irulan, we don’t see each other often”—you said, watching her face soften at your soft words—“Let’s not fight, dear sister.”
Sighing she took your hands in hers. “I am not meaning to pick a fight. You just need to be smarter. I doubt your husband would be pleased to know that you are allowing people to call you anything that isn’t tied to him.”
You nodded, squeezing her hands before letting go. “I am thankful for your concern, Irulan,” you said.
A Bene Gesserit hovered in the shadows and called your sister to her. Irulan hesitated for only a moment before disappearing leaving you to stand alone. Baron Harkonnen was throwing a party for the success your husband’s been having on the planet and members of all the great houses were in attendance.
People that you never had to interact with as your father and the Bene Gesserit kept you isolated from everyone. When you married Feyd most people were shocked to even know you existed. Most avoid you, believing there was some horrible reason you were kept a secret and in fear of your husband.
Sighing softly, you made your way to the corner of the room so you could see everything without having to engage. The servant from before ran over to you. Out of breath, he bowed deeply and presented you with the drink you requested.
“For you, my princess,” he said.
Touched, you placed your hand over your heart and took the glass of cider from his tray. “Thank you so much. I hope it didn’t cause you a lot of trouble getting this.”
“No, princess it cost nothing to serve you.”
You smiled in appreciation when a chuckle sent a shiver down your spine. You glanced over the servant’s head to see the dark eyes of your husband. You opened your mouth in shock and your hands shook slightly causing the drink to splash into your dress.
“My Na-Baron. How are you”—Reyd glare cuts through you and stalls your words. He pulled his dagger from his side and stalked closer to you and the servant, who was staring at the ground and shaking.
“Now, what are you two talking about? Do not let me stop you,” he spoke with a growl in his voice that had the servant and your breath catching. When neither of you spoke up, his patience left him, and he grabbed the servant by the neck and drove his dagger into his neck.
You gasped and closed your eyes as the blood poured from the wounded. Feyd grabbed the back of your neck. “Fucking look at what you caused,” he ordered.
Listening to him, your eyes opened, and you watched as he pulled the dagger across the servant’s throat and pulled out harshly. The blood sprayed all over you and tears burned your eyes. The room had gone silent, and everyone watched the two of you.
“Turns out it does cost something to serve you,” Feyd laughed tightening his grip on your neck as he forced you out of the hall and towards your shared bedroom. You didn’t struggle and tried to stop your tears from falling, though you knew he didn’t mind. In fact, he loved making you cry and licking the tears from your face.
Feyd kicked the door open and tossed you inside as he slammed the door behind you both and locked it. You stumble but quickly regain your footing to turn around and face your husband. Well, you face his feet as you know he does not want to see your eyes.
“My sweet hare. Who would have thought you would also be a harlot,” he said amused, but the anger was barely restrained in his tone.
Your tears flowed heavily down your cheeks. “Never, my lord,” you whispered.
He hummed. “Speak up if you have something to say to me.”
Your hands shook but you interlocked your fingers and squeezed them together. You slowly lift your head to stare at Feyd. He stood against the door, his arms crossed over his chest and the bloody dagger still in his head. He wore an expression of amusement, lust, and violence.
“I said never, my lord. I am not a harlot. I am your wife, your servant, your hare,” your tone turned to a whine of desperation at the end. You were made for him. To be his and you would never do anything to displease him. In the months since your wedding, you have grown more loyal to him, not because you had to be but because you wanted to be.
“Are you sure about that, princess,” he mocked crossing the space between you in quick strides. He took in your bloody face and dress. The tear marks down your face and your expression. So soft, innocent, and loyal to him.
How you could still be so sweet and pure after the things he’s done to you is a mystery, but he thanks the stars each night for it. Roughly grabbing your cheeks, he dug his nails into them. “You belong to me. I could have had you as a slave or a concubine, but I was generous. I made you, my wife. My Na-baroness.” His nails dug further into your face until he tore the skin and now your own blood mixed with the servant.
“Please, My lord. I am yours. I live to please you,” you were sobbing now, and the sound was music to his ears. He couldn’t help but lean closer and lick from your jaw to the crown of your head. He moaned at the mixture of salt and iron on his tongue, but it wasn’t enough to sate the beast that was woken when he saw your sweet smile aimed at another. At your hand on someone’s arm even if only for a moment.
“Do I seem pleased, little harlot?”
You cried harder. You wanted to be his hare again. He good little wife. You cursed yourself for not listening to your sister. You should have stayed by his side all night. You should have taken the wine and not spoken to anyone. “My lord, my husband, my Na-Baron, please forgive me. What can I do to please you? To gain your good grace again?”
He chuckled at your desperation Your hands were tightly gripping the side of his shirt without you even noticing. You were just too perfect. Your tears were almost as good as blood. A light went off in his mind and smirked darkly.
Shoving you away from him, Feyd licked his fingers before aiming his dagger at you. You stared between the two in confusion, but eagerness and hope shined through your eyes. He rolled his eyes but laughed slightly.
“On your knees and clean it off. That should be something familiar to you.” He spoke.
His words stung. You had only been on your knees for him. “Yes, my lord,” you said anyway. Dropping to your knees you placed your hand behind your back and slowly stuck out your tongue and licked the sharp tip.
You winced as the tip pierced your tongue, but you took a shaky breath and dragged your tongue along the dagger until there was no more blood and it was dripping in your spit. You looked up at Feyd, hoping that he was happy, but his expression was void of any emotions. You deflated slightly.
“Open your mouth.”
You did without question, and he spat into your mouth. You shivered and you felt your face heat as the area between your thighs dampened. You were ashamed to admit that your fascination with your husband also came with a deep desire for him. He was so dangerous and beautiful and the things he did to you were shameful, but you enjoyed them as well.
Feyd could see the desire in your eyes and couldn’t wait to watch it turn to horror. He dropped to his knees in front of you and roughly turned you around until your hands were gripping the edge of your bed. His dagger makes quick work to cut off the back of your dress and you are quick to help him remove it from your body.
“Eager little thing you are,” he chuckled. “Do you think I am going to fuck you?”
You froze, glancing over your shoulder at him. You wanted him to. You wanted to beg him to but that is not what good wives do. “Whatever you wish to do, I am eager for, husband.”
“I will assess that,” he smirked. The fear flicked in the outer rings of your eyes, and he groaned. Leaning closer he licked your face once more. “I will make sure you and everyone know who you belong to.”
You were afraid, the sadistic look in his eyes you’d seen before when he was fighting. You swallowed shakingly but didn’t hide your fear from him. Feyd grabbed your jaw and kissed you aggressively. As if he hated you and you were both locked in a fight to the death. It was animalistic, frightening, and addictive.
All too soon he broke the kiss and forced you to face forward. Not being able to see what he was going to do only increased your fear and desire. He was breathing heavily, panting like a wild animal. And you were glad. He was a beast, and you were his hare that needed to be claimed. This was familiar, and you can deal with that.
And then his dagger was pressing into your back, breaking the first layer of skin, and going deeper. You screamed out and thrashed against him. Feyd gripped the back of your neck and pinned you down on the bed.
“Be still and prove to me you are my little hare.”
“Okay, my lord,” you weep. His hand did not leave your throat and his dagger dug deeper. You screamed, closing your eyes, and begging for the pain to stop. The pain was unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and your body shook as it tried to process what was going on. Your mind grew fussy, and you felt as if you were going to pass out and you couldn’t wait.
“No, stay with me. Endure it for me. For your husband,” He growled, shaking your neck. You whined and begged for his forgiveness. His dagger dug in and out of your skin, curving and carving out your skin.
Your screams quieted to pained moans and whimpers. You could feel the blood dripping down your back. Some already drying as it went on forever. Finally, he stopped, and his hand left your neck. Where you were sure his handprints would bruise.
You sniffled lying your head on the bed exhausted. Feyd moved his lie his head next to yours taking in your swollen and wet face. Your eyes were far away and bloodshot and you tried to focus on him.
“My little hare, you did such an excellent job. I’m proud of you,” he said. His hand pushed your sweaty heart out of your face in something close to affection. His thumb ran along your cheeks, wiping under your eyes. He forced his thumb into your mouth, and you obeyed his unspoken command and sucked.
Feyd's free hand moved along your back. Ghosting between the letters that he carved there. His eyes locked on yours as he mouthed each letter to you as he traced them. F.E.Y.D R.A.U.T.H.A
“Feyd Rautha,” you said quietly when his thumb left your mouth.
He smirked and grabbed your jaw. “And who is that?”
“You. My lord, my Na-Baron, and my husband.”
“And now everyone will know it.” He said getting up from the bed. “I will have all new dresses made for you. In black with the back open. Everyone from every corner of the universe will know that you belong to me.”
His voice sounded far away or as if you were underwater. Your eyes followed him until he was no longer in sight. “I suppose, I should reward you for being good to me,” he hummed getting on his knees behind you.
You wanted to tell him he didn’t have to, but your mouth felt dry, and you had no energy to do anything. Or you didn’t until he started pushing your thighs apart and you tried to crawl up the bed and away from his fingers that started to probe your hole. You whined but three quick and harsh swats to your ass had you stop trying to get away.
Feyd cared little for your comfort as he watched the blood from your back pool down your back and slide between your legs. You were already so wet for him and if not, the blood was lubrication enough. He groaned as he forces two of his thick fingers inside of you and your cunt hungrily sucked them in.
“Hunger little cunt. Do you want my cock?’ He asked, pulling his pants off and stroking his thick cock a slowly teasing himself. He coated his cock in your blood before thrusting all eight inches into you in one go.
You choked and your body froze and tightened up. Feyd groaned and kissed the bottom of your spine, lapping up the blood. “You will be in more pain if you don’t relax. I will fuck you open either way,” he reminded you. Your blood was his favorite drink in the world, and it drove him mad.
You nodded taking deep breaths and trying to focus on the pleasure and not the pain still shooting through your body. “Please,” you said, unsure if you were asking for him to stop or make you forget the pain.
Either way, Feyd only had his own interest at heart. Grabbing your waist, he pulled you back on his cock as he pounded into you repeatedly growly lowly as you cried and begged him over and over. His cock reached so deep inside of you with each thrust. Feyd grabbed your ass squeezing harshly as he chased his release.
Your back ached and your cunt was growing sore from his relentless thrust. You tightened around him, and your knuckles turned white with how hard you were holding onto the sheets on the bed. Feyd couldn’t help himself and ran his fingers along your back. Pressing into the letters he carved. More blood oozed from your back, and you couldn’t stop the fight to get away from him.
He chuckled and dug his nails into his name. “Where are you going?” He pulled you back harshly and picked up speed as despite yourself you came around his cock, squirting all over you both. He laughed louder pressing his chest against your back. Fedy grabbed the side of your head and forced you to look into his dark eyes. “Tell me, who do you belong to?”
“You, Feyd. I belong to you,” you cried.
“And how were you made for? Who is going to breed you and keep you all to himself?”
“You. Only you Feyd-Rautha,” your eyes rolled in the back of your head, and you came again, your body moving against him. You cried at the pain it caused you and you screamed at the pleasure he was giving you.
Feyd slapped your face, forcing you to look at him once more. “Let me see those little eyes,” he grinned. He smeared your own blood all over your face before his tongue licked it all away. He repeated this twice more before his hips drove hard into you one last time as he filled you with his seed.
“Take my seed, little hare. This is why you were made for me. To be bred, broken, and used by me,” he said, fucking his cum deeper inside of you. You could do nothing but lie there gasping and taking what he was giving you. He stayed pressed against you both of you covered in sweat, blood, and cum.
Pealing his body off of your broken one, he stood up and looked down at his work. Your body shook and blood still ran down your back. He smirked satisfied with himself and slapped your ass. “Good girl. You have earned my forgiveness and favor once more.” He leaned closer whispering in your ear. “Be wise to keep it. Unless you want more reminders.”
You shivered at the threat but nodded softly, your eyes closing. You were in so much pain and you were unsure if you were hallucinating or not when a hand ran through your hair and a kiss was pressed to your forehead.
“Rest, little hare. I will have a bath drawn and some salve to make sure your mark heals property.”
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Taglist.
I didn't add my normal taglist so let me know if you would like to be added to Feyd's taglist as well to my normal taglist people and of course to anyone else who wants to be tagged in his fics or any of my other fics.
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yuellii · 6 months
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🪼 HI USER YUELLII OMG I LUV JEALOUSY TROPES MAYBE THAT SAYS... SOMETHING ABOUT MY CHARACTER BUT I LOVEEEE JEALOUSY TROPES. AND WITH NEUVILETTE????? SOEMONE WHO PRIABBLY DOESNT EXPERIENCE JEALOUSY OFTEN IF AT ALL???? im sold. IM SOLD. PULLING OUT MY CREDIT CARD. IWOULD LITERALLY KILL TO READ UR THOUGHTS ON IT
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The Four Stages of Jealousy : THE IUDEX.
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STAGE I. — Identification.
There is a threat, that a person may feel losing someone to someone better than them. "I want what you have, and I hate that you have what I want."
Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure of the sudden twist in his stomach as he stood at your doorstep, a bag of pastries tucked under one of his arms and a box of tea bags carried under his other.
Saturdays, three o’clock sharp in the afternoon held meaning: A time in which he’d arrive at your boutique, treats in hand and a pleasant look on his face. He’d try on one of your hats, maybe, for it was a prime time for tea, taken advantage of by the two of you, alone together every Saturday afternoon. It was an evening of the week where he was most happiest, though that might’ve been only an assumption. But the tranquility he usually felt standing at your doorstep was never one he could ignore.
Unfortunately, said tranquility seemed to be lacking this time around.
What he expected as another nice time alone with you ( especially since it was on your undocumented schedule—but who cared for documents, when he looked forward to this meeting every week? ) was instead being interrupted by a certain someone. Namely, a certain Champion Duelist. And maybe, Neuvillette would not be so bothered, had she not been sitting in his seat.
( Said seat was also unspoken, or ‘undocumented’ between the two of you, but still. He sat there every week—therefore by repeated pattern alone, that antique chair in front of the table should be his. )
( And sure, this might’ve been your boutique’s seating area, where everyone comes to sit during the day; But on Saturdays during tea time, he’d like to think that seat was practically reserved for him. )
“Neuvillette!” you practically gasped, facial expression turning into one of lightened excitement at seeing him. There was a blissful ignorance in your voice—‘ignorant’ in the way he was truly glad you didn’t know he was mentally annoyed at the mere fact his seat was taken. But nevertheless, the tightrope of his heart fluttered at the sound of your voice, which always sounded so enthusiastic every week he came back here. Perhaps you were just excited to see him as much as he was excited to see you—the thought alone brings a shiver to his spine.
He approaches forward with a polite smile of his own when you pat the empty spot adjacent to you on the loveseat. Ah, so the theft of his usual antique chair leaves him to sit beside you. Maybe the uninvited guest was welcomed, now that he thought about it.
“What brings Miss Clorinde with us today?” he finally asked, addressing the most obvious outlier first. When he set the bag of pastries down on the table, he watched as the Duelist eyed it with interest.
Clorinde hummed. “I was here for a small chat, then I was told that Monsieur Neuvillette would be ‘arriving soon’. And here you are.” At the recount of events, Neuvillette noticed how Clorinde threw a playful look at you. This playfulness did not stop, unfortunately for him, when she leaned forward to peek at the paper bag he brought in. “Then I stayed, because I thought: ‘What could the Chief Justice possibly say that’s interesting enough for weekly conversations?’”
You gasped at her teasing insult. “Clorinde!” you scolded with slight laughter. “Monsieur Neuvillette is a great companion for tea conversations! He’s very interesting, indeed, I promise you!”
“Thank you,” Neuvillette coughed through his words. He’s beginning to feel a bit awkward here…
“Oh?” Clorinde piped up again, just before Neuvillette could even get another word out. “There’s a lot of pastries in here, and also a new box of tea?”
“He brings them for us to share every week!” you exclaimed happily, grabbing the bag off the table and kindly distributing a treat to everyone. And that’s when suddenly, Neuvillette wishes he only bought one for the two of you, because he watches as you set down the pieces of Conch Madeleines in front of the Champion Duelist, despite Neuvillette knowing those were your favorites. Meanwhile, instead, you gave him and yourself the remaining other pastries. But surely, you wouldn’t just give up your favorites like that… Unless you favored Clorinde. Ah, but maybe he was overthinking it. “Isn’t he the sweetest?”
Clorinde sends him a casual smirk, likely to tease him. “Sweetest, certainly.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond to any of this at all.
When he eventually had to leave, Clorinde still stayed there to chat with you, and he felt empty walking out of your boutique. Emptier than usual, actually. It was certainly confusing, due to the fact nothing inherently bad happened, and he certainly didn’t want to say Clorinde’s presence bothered him, or anything over-the-top like that.
Hm.
Neuvillette didn’t get to talk to you as much as he wanted to today.
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STAGE II. — Confrontative.
Where negative thoughts start to bloom as "envy." Jealousy begins to indicate love for the person, and the individual is afraid of losing that object of their love.
It’s the following Saturday when he sees you again, and he can’t quite understand why he feels an air of relief upon seeing that Clorinde is not there today.
“Neuvillette!” You greet him with the same smile and same excitement as always, and the rush of paradise courses through his body before he sits across from you in his usual seat: the antique chair right in front of you. He sets down his paper bag of fresh pastries; And upon doing so, he can’t help but smile when he noticed there are only two teacups on the table. One for you, and one for himself. “You seem a little more delighted today”—Was it that obvious?—“What’s gotten you into a good mood, Monsieur?”
He hummed. “Nothing, really.” He actually wasn’t quite sure why he was feeling so joyous today, either, but as long as you were sitting there still smiling at him, then it would all be alright. “It’s just natural, since it’s always my pleasure to spend my Saturday afternoons with you.”
Bring your hand up to cover your mouth, you lightly gasped at his words. “Oh, Monsieur!” you giggled. “I hadn’t known you could be a charmer with your words!”
He liked the reaction you gave him. He thinks he liked the feeling of approval you gave him, but even more. Neuvillette learned rather gradually that you always tended to get a happy sort-of embarrassment from his ‘compliments’. Said ‘compliments’, however, referred to mere truthful facts he’s laid for you. But there’s a certain loveliness that comes with confiding in someone to tell all your truths to, and he’s more than elated that you’re the one he trusts to blabber endlessly to. He just hopes it can stay like this for a long time: Just the two of you, enjoying your Saturday afternoon tea.
“So,” Neuvillette began, watching as you took a bite of the Conch Madeleine he bought specifically for you. He had to catch himself from smiling at you—if his duty was to buy your favorite treat every week, then so be it. “How has your week been since I last saw you?”
Your hand once again flies up to cover your mouth as you quickly finish to chew and swallow the bite before answering him. “It’s been fun, actually! I saw a concert performed by a famous violinist—I believe I might’ve even spotted you in the front row…”
“Ah, yes, that would’ve been me. It was a spectacular performance; I’m happy to know you saw it,” he smiled. Hm, if he knew you were there that night, he certainly would’ve said hello. Your hand moves upwards once more to bring your teacup closer to your lips, and now he’s curious to ask: “And that ring of yours—that’s new, when did you get it?”
“Oh!” After setting the teacup down, you quickly leaned forwards, outstretching your right arm to show off the ring to him at a closer view. “I just got it yesterday, actually. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It is.” It really dazzles to compliment your eyes. Neuvillette catches himself thinking of little things he’s never thought before. Like the way your hair frames your face perfectly, especially at this angle. Or the way your eyes held this delicate shine he admired so dearly, only now heightened by the sparkle of the ring’s reflection. There’s a new tide of poetry unspoken in the depths of his mind, and they might as well stay locked until he figures out just what this emotion is.
When you offer your hand for him to get a closer inspection of the ring is when his breath seems almost stolen from his lungs. Months and months of these weekly tea meetings, and yet he feels this is the closest proximity he’s ever been to you. Here, in his antique chair in the middle of your boutique shop, holding your hand from across the table.
But he feels a spark that he prays you sense as well, for the mere desire of wanting this moment to last forever is enough to tell him that he is completely in love with you.
He leans down gently to reach closer to your hand, kissing your knuckle so featherlight next to the ring. “And it’s even more beautiful on you,” he mutters to you when he pulls away.
Your heart might’ve skipped a beat when you retracted your hand, but he has no idea—he was too lovestruck just now to even think properly. But you take just a moment to recover whilst he’s still stuck in his little daze; Though, who could blame him when he just discovered the ethereal feeling of falling in love?
“Thank you,” you exhaled with a smile that seemed a little breathless. “Lady Clorinde helped pick it, actually.”
…What?
Well, that was a name he completely forgotten until just now. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure after the sudden whiplash of emotions. From finding out he’s in love, to the pang of unwarranted negativity for the Champion Duelist. As expected, he couldn’t tell what this uncomfortable feeling was, but he certainly did not like it.
“Clorinde was there, you say?” he tried to clarify.
You nodded. A little too happily for his liking. “We went out shopping yesterday.” Oh. “And she said this ring really matched ‘the colors of my personality’, whatever that means!” you wholeheartedly laughed. The way you spoke of her, with all this smiling and all these giggles, was making him crave for something more. Did… Did you perhaps want to see him more outside of these tea times, too? You seem perfectly fine shopping with Clorinde now, after all.
He’s never gotten personal time with you like that. It’s always been solely Saturday afternoons, nothing more. And yet, Clorinde immediately gets invited to your shopping runs, and apparently her opinion is also important enough to make you buy the ring? How unbelievable. Neuvillette bets if he was there instead, he’d buy you every piece of jewelry that you even took so much as slight interest in, because that was what you deserved. But no, here he was, not invited to these outings at all, and further stuck wallowing as your mere ‘tea companion’, and not something more.
The door to the boutique suddenly opens, and the both of you turn your heads to the customer.
But instead of a client, you were met with the face of a slightly-smiling Clorinde, ever so amused to see the both of you here again. Well, she shouldn’t be amused. Neuvillette was here on schedule.
“Ah, you’re here!” you say excitedly, briskly standing up to grab another set of tea; And now, Neuvillette can’t quite tell if you greet everyone at the door with this same excitement, and it’s not just restricted to him alone. He shouldn’t be that selfish, of course, so he thinks perhaps it should just not be directed at Clorinde, specifically.
“Pardon me,” Clorinde announced, making her way to the table after you set the tea display down. “I’ll be intruding on the both of you again.” Neuvillette wishes he had any right to refuse.
This time, now that he’s regained his rightful spot on the antique chair, Clorinde had no choice but to sit… right next to you on the loveseat—the same place Neuvillette sat last week when his spot was stolen. A moment comes forth where he now no longer wants his seat at all ( which he doesn’t understand why, because shouldn’t he be happy his unspoken designated seat is back? ), and prefers the loveseat.
Maybe it was the sight of Clorinde next to you, and the fact she was sitting so much closer than he’d like to imagine. And suddenly, that’s when he realizes he doesn’t like the idea of Clorinde being this close to you at all.
“Oh! You’re wearing the ring I got you!” Clorinde recognizes. She grabbed your right hand to immediately inspect it, and Neuvillette can’t help but feel like someone just shot him. Not only did she comfortably grab your hand like it was nothing ( meanwhile, he had to find both the confidence and the breath to even try to kiss your hand earlier ), but she also got it for you? The little detail you never mentioned: That Clorinde bought you the ring.
Now Neuvillette is internally questioning what exactly this ring means. Is it akin to a proposal? A vow? A promise ring for the future?
The longer he stays here the more insane he may be driven, he thinks.
“Sorry to cut my time here short, but I think I have to get going,” he spoke up. Both Clorinde and you looked over at him, and he figured this was a good idea—he doesn’t think he can handle another tea session where the two of you are happily talking as he sits there awkwardly quiet. “I’ll be off, now.”
“Already?” you frowned at him, and that expression almost makes him want to stay. But the sight of Clorinde still absentmindedly toying with your hand sends him into a spiral of emotions he needs to sort out. He’s already stood up to leave without realizing it.
“Unfortunately so,” he says. He might’ve sounded colder than he meant to. It was clear in your face you knew something was wrong, but didn’t want to say it out of privacy. But when he walked towards the door, hearing Clorinde continue your conversation on like normal, it was fruitless to even consider it.
He opened the door. It was raining.
It feels like he was losing your love before he could even have it.
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STAGE III. — Redirecting.
Where pleasure is derived from hurting others, stemmed from unconscious feelings of envy. The envy can come in a so-called as a form of competitive implication.
The next time he saw you was around the market area in the morning, wandering the streets like a normal citizen on this wavering Wednesday.
Normally, he would have just smiled and waved at most, but this time, something compelled him to walk up and join you. “Is this where to find you on Wednesday mornings?” he asked curiously, catching your starling attention and watching as your lips curved to a smile when you recognized him.
“It is, Monsieur.” When you stepped ever-so closer to him, a mere basket around your arm being the only thing between you, he felt as if his feet had turned into bubbles, and there was a flutter of heaven around his shoulders. “My weekly groceries are scheduled for today, however I don’t recall ever seeing you on this side of the city, if that isn’t just my ignorance.”
He chuckled, “I’m usually at my office by this time, so you would be correct.” Then his arm slid against yours, taking the wooden basket out of your hands and walking a few steps forward down the market street you shopped at. “But I’m open to a change of pace, so might I join you on this lovely morning?”
The little smile of contentment you gave him when you answered “Of course” made his heart skip a beat. And when you walked forward to hook your arm around his free one, he swears to the sovereign he might simply dissolve right then and there. The closeness of your presence to him now makes his heart race in a way he feels it drumming in his chest, a feeling that is so human that it makes him almost taste the fruit of mortality. You, walking along with him as you hold onto his arm whilst he carries your grocery basket—you look like romantic partners, and he can’t help but feel sort of lightheaded at the mere thought of that.
“Ah, look!” you pointed, and Neuvillette allowed himself to be guided by the arm to a nearby vendor. “They’re selling slices of apricot pie.”
“You fancy these desserts as well?” he mused, already fishing his pockets for his wallet. “Perhaps we should purchase a slice or two and save them for our weekend tea session.”
You agreed, “I thought the same.” Then you noticed his shuffling and playfully waved off his hand, insisting he needn’t pay. “But I fear it might spoil by the time Saturday comes.”
“You want a bite of mine?” And that’s when Neuvillette wasn’t even surprised anymore to hear the voice of the Champion Duelist appearing out of nowhere. He has such horrible luck running into her, that he’s now just accepted it at this point ( or, for better words: he still has yet to accept the fact that maybe Clorinde was specifically seeking you ). She stood there, leaned against a pole with an easy-going expression and a fork in one of her hands, carrying an aluminum tin with the exact same apricot pie you were just eyeing.
You gasp at her appearance, “Sure!” Neuvillette doesn’t even have a moment to process the mere seconds it takes for you to slip away from his arm, leaving him to follow behind as you skip over to Clorinde. The uninvited guest takes it upon herself to feed you a bite with her fork—it was at this time that the Iudex began to feel like an outlier once again.
“We were actually about to buy a few slices ourselves,” Neuvillette piped in. He did it quickly, perhaps it was instinct so he wouldn’t be left out of the conversation again. “But an excellent point was brought up, that the dessert might spoil by the time we reach Saturday afternoon.”
“Why don’t you just buy one and eat it now?” Clorinde shrugged. Ah. Neuvillette internally scolded himself; He should’ve thought of that. And when you waved off her suggestion dismissively, claiming it was fine now that she let you try it, Neuvillette realized he completely missed an opportunity to have dessert with you on a Wednesday instead of a Saturday. That while he was still a man you only saw once at the end of each week, you’d be seeing Clorinde multiple times throughout it.
He wasn’t fond of the way Clorinde was still feeding you more bites of pie, either.
“Miss Clorinde,” he addressed. If only he had more of a grasp of human sociability, then he might’ve realized how firm his voice sounded in this situation that was… not so serious. “Shouldn’t you be alongside Furina at this time of day?”
“On a typical day, yes,” she answered simply. “And shouldn’t you be in your office?”
He almost glared. “No, actually, I’ve given myself the time to roam around today.”
“Oh wowww,” she teased, though Neuvillette might’ve heard it as something mocking. “Lady Furina would be pleased to hear that. Instead of being cooped up in your office or the Opera Epiclese all morning long, you’re out here at the market, even holding a basket for shopping.”
The Iudex cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll have you know that this basket isn’t mine.” There was an air of competitiveness in his voice, one that almost had him biting his tongue in surprise of himself. Because it was simply just as he said: a basket. But the fact it belonged to you, and the fact that he was carrying it for you—suddenly he wanted to boast it and show it off to the world, especially to Clorinde’s face. “The two of us are shopping together this morning, if you’ll excuse us.” His next move might’ve been bold, but the feeling of possessiveness was so airtight and he had no choice but to hook his own arm around yours once more, getting ready to turn and leave.
“So cold,” Clorinde rolled her eyes. ‘Cold’ was a word often used to describe him, but no, not here. He did not want to appear that way in front of you. “Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?” she asked, this time directed at you.
Something in him snapped. There was an emotion that clouded his head far angrier than annoyance, and it sprouted from the way in which she made him look bad, like the stone-cold Chief Justice everyone thought him to be. Albeit with you, he was trying to be everything but that. Emotional, vulnerable, heartfelt, human—Clorinde was not going to take that away from him.
‘Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?’ The question kept playing in his mind, as if she was any better than him? She, who most people also saw as stoic, should not be seen by you in a better light than him. She, who did not know your favorite desserts like he did, who did not make time for you like he did, who did not fancy you as much as he did—
He felt you tug at his arm, snapping him from his thoughts.
Your eyes held the same, worried look you gave him on Saturday when he left so abruptly. So jealously.
Neuvillette cleared his throat once more. “It seems you are correct, Miss Clorinde.” There was solemness in his voice. Yet he was so quiet as he unlocked his arm from around yours, and handed your basket to Clorinde. “My attitude proves to be too unfavorable for the likes of this lovely morning, I thank you for bringing it to my attention.” These emotions were too much right now; he was starting to fear them. “My deepest apologies to you both, I’ll be heading back to the Palais Mermonia now.”
He bowed his head as diplomatically as he could manage, but the skies were already darkening.
“I bid you both a fine rest of your morning.”
“Wait, Neuvillette!”
Your call was drowned by the deafening drums of his hammering heartbeat, and the patters of light rainfall from the somber sky.
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STAGE IV. — Medea.
At this stage, the grip of envy appears almost irreversible. There is a hatred towards others that dominates their thinking, and happiness or success is no longer foreseen.
Saturday afternoon.
He couldn’t see you again, even if it was time for your weekly meeting, not when he was feeling like this.
Not when the sky was pouring from the mere thought of you, and how he’s probably already lost. It was inevitable for a man like him, and he should’ve realized so earlier. Three o’clock, and you were already probably sipping away with Clorinde at your side, pastries on the table and a dazzling ring on your finger. She was much more human than him, after all, and such a shortcoming became his eventual downfall.
The Palais Mermonia was quiet, though that might’ve been due to the endless rain that’s been pouring since Wednesday morning.
While it was nice, he couldn’t help but feel the silence only amplified his feeling of loneliness in this moment. Especially at this time: a time of the week in which he looked most forward to.
“Monsieur Neuvillette?” a Melusine knocked from right outside his door. “You have a visitor!”
And before he could even reply, that was when you ignored all formalities, all proper respect as you pushed your way through the door and into his office. The surge of panic he felt from your sudden presence was unrivaled to the way you made haste in getting seated in front of his office table, setting down your handful—said handful consisting of two teacups, and a bag of pastries.
His heart practically shattered. The familiar cups and bag of treats on the table, the way your hair and clothes were lightly damp from the rain—you made the effort, coming all the way here just to see him. Just so the both of you wouldn’t miss a single Saturday afternoon together.
“I believe you might’ve forgotten our schedule, good Monsieur.” A light scolding, yet partnered with the most comforting smile you’ve ever given him, and he starts to feel his hands tremble. “You seem surprised to see me,” you commented further, filling in the silence as he has yet to utter even a word. “Did you really think I’d just let you ditch me like that?”
It was hard to breathe, hard to find his voice when you were so patient with him. “Sorry.” It’s all he can mutter now, this blistering swell of emotions causing a waver in his voice. “I’m so, very sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you chuckled at him. His body tensed when you reached forward to grab one of his hands. But you felt cold just like the chilling rain outdoors, and now he worries you might catch a fever because of him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you what was wrong, but…” Your eyes drooped with a certain sorrow in their crevices, and Neuvillette found himself slightly squeezing your hands. “I couldn’t seem to find a good moment alone with you.”
He shook his head at you, whispering, “I don’t even know what’s wrong, myself…”
You frowned. This atmosphere was suffocating and just from one glance upwards at your face, Neuvillette could easily tell you were holding back something to say. Granted, it was his fault. He’s the one who’s here, sitting and sulking in his office with little to no explanation. He’s the one who’s kept you worried this past week from leaving so abruptly two different times now. If anything, he might understand how to be a human even less after this ordeal.
“Would you be so kind…” he starts, words like lumps in his throat, “to allow me to be honest? To let me ramble whatever nonsense I’m feeling for just a moment, so that maybe you can make some sense of it all?”
You gave his hands a comforting squeeze. “Of course.”
There’s a certain phrase caught dead in his tongue. And he’s never been afraid to speak his mind before, yet suddenly, your judgment of his feelings mattered much more than the truth of his words. But he was feeling so much, and if this was really the emotional baggage humans had to carry all the time, he could only wonder how most people have yet to burst from the hauntings of their own mind.
Or more accurately so—the hauntings of their own love.
These words were doomed to come spilling out. “You’ve bewildered me with mountains of emotions,” he rambles quicker than he thinks. “All from the sleight of your hand, I best believe I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He forces himself to ignore how your eyes widen in that moment, or how the grip from your hands suddenly loosens from the shock that rings through his confession. He doesn’t have a way with words, and he knows this. So in a hasty attempt to piece together a board of emotional exposure his mind cannot even comprehend, he does the only thing he knows how to: talk and talk, until he has no more truth to confess to you.
“But the feelings that came alongside my love,” he began to you, “are unexplainable.” As his voice ended in coarseness, there was such an hopeless look of utter confusion you had never seen on his face before, like he was silently pleading for you to help a poor soul like his own. “The beating of my heart when I see you… A stark contrast to the tightness in my stomach I feel… When Miss Clorinde joins us.” The ending of his sentence dropped to nearly a whisper, like he expected it to be sin. “But what I just don’t understand, is why,” the section of his brows furrow in distress, “because she’s my coworker, and I do not dislike her, but I feel as if I cannot stand her when she joins us…”
You listen quietly. He doesn’t know whether to be thankful or fearful whilst awaiting your reaction.
He continued, “But when she sat with us for tea, and bought you that ring, and joined us at the market…” This confession; It was arguably harder than confessing his love to you. Because Clorinde was your friend—maybe even closer, if he was so unlucky—and he might’ve crossed a line here he didn’t even know existed. “I felt like I hated her,” he finished.
You were still silent, though it wasn’t like he could see your expression anyways. He refused to even look up to it, choosing instead to stare down at your joined hands.
But this silence was deafening. Please, just reject him already. He let out the most exhausted sigh he has ever before, the weight of these human emotions bearing down on him. “So I was just…”
“Just jealous,” you finished for him, and he noticed in your voice how you were almost laughing quietly to yourself. The emotion you just named—he didn’t know how envy even felt like, much less jealousy ( though, he supposes he knows now ). “Neuvillette, you should’ve just told me you felt uncomfortable with Clorinde there.”
“Hm?” He was confused. So confused, that his eyes finally darted up to meet your own. And there you stood, most comforting of smiles on your face as your thumb began to trace patterns on the back of his hand.
You reassured him, “Those are times we spend together, dedicated to the both of our comforts.” Which was true, but he was ready to argue that he felt selfish that way—and that you wouldn’t love nor deserve a selfish man. “I trust you to tell me when you feel things are unfavorable,” you continued, “and I promise you, Clorinde would understand if I told her.”
“But,” he piped up, so much doubt in his eyes as if struggling to believe your words, “is she not important to you?” And now, he could not comprehend the bashfulness that raised blood to his cheeks, or the complete disbelief that you’d wave off the Champion Duelist just because of his silly discomfort. Human relationships; He feared he may never understand them.
“Of course she’s important to me—she’s my friend!” you lightly laughed. “But you’re important to me, as well. Please understand that.” His heart might’ve stopped for just a moment. “And when we have our scheduled times alone together, the last thing I want to have is you feeling uneasy when we’re supposed to be relaxing.” Your words, the kindness you shed—it was all so confusing yet so welcoming at the same time, that he feels it’s only a matter of seconds until he drowns from the sound of your voice. To feel such comfort in a person was bizarre to him, but it’s a feeling that makes him crave your presence all the same.
His eyes fell to another slight frown, voice quieter as if losing the will to argue. “But… I should not have the right to impede on a relationship significant to you…”
Now it was your turn to look baffled. The way he worded it. Oh, surely he didn’t— “Monsieur, do you think Clorinde and I are a couple?”
“Well, I certainly thought you two were getting to that state in your relationship,” Neuvillette answered truthfully, voice flowing without hesitation as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. The man who just confessed his love for you only moments ago was fully convinced you felt romance for another woman. “Hence why I was…” He turned his head to the side, shyly clearing his throat. “Envious…”
You practically burst out into giggles. In fact, one of your hands even let go of his grip just so you could cover your mouth to laugh. “Oh… Oh, Neuvillette, surely you jest!” you attempted to name whilst controlling your laughter. The Iudex was shell-shocked into pure silence, wondering what he could’ve possibly said to make you react this way, because as far as he knew, he was not making a joke. “Clorinde is only a friend to me,” you clarified. “Nothing more.”
He remains silent, but there’s a sweeping wave of new emotions that suddenly flood his shoulders.
“And if she sees me as anything more, then, well,” you continued, glancing up outside and then back down to meet his awaiting eyes. “Unfortunately for her, the love in my heart has already been captured by another.”
“By whom?” The lack of hesitation from his immediate question has more giggles escaping your lips. He looks at you, and your face tells him it’s an obvious question with an obvious answer, and yet he still cannot comprehend this even when you squeeze both his hands in yours once more.
“Who do you think, Monsieur?” And yet even after his face flushes red, he still has a focused look of anticipation on his face—it’s as if he absolutely will not believe it until you spell it directly to his face. “Neuvillette,” you sighed, but there was an air of gentleness in the way you say his name that relaxed his soul. “It’s always been you.”
The rain continued on.
But now the sun shined between each droplet, because if he could cry from happiness right now, he was sure you’d already be busy wiping his tears away. And this sunny rain continued on and on, even as he poured you tea, even when he bit into the pastries you bought, and even when he looked at you fondly across his desk, not a single doubt of your love.
And as for Clorinde, well, he might need a few more days to recover before he can forgive her for all the sporadic heart attacks she’s almost given him.
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little-diable · 4 months
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All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)
Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)
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She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed. 
“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”
(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare. 
“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk. 
“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out. 
“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”
……
“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman. 
“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils. 
“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days. 
“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).
“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind. 
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope. 
“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps. 
“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”
“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements. 
(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his. 
“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander. 
“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.
“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them. 
He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.
His toy, his pet, his woman. 
Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness. 
“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.” 
“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.
“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”
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doitforbangchan · 2 months
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Little Tease - Bangchan
This is a request by the lovely @softkisshyunjin who wanted Chan rizzing up stay and then getting teased my reader <3 I hope it's everything you hoped for my dear
This is soooo delulu, please do NOT do what reader does here :)
Masterlist
Not proofread :)
Idol!Chan x Fan!reader (afab)
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Warnings: Smut, protected p in v, kissing, fingering, masterbation, spitting in mouth, dom! chan, sub! reader, condescending! Chan, he is kind of a cocky jerk here lol
WC: 3k
MDNI 18+
He was an absolute menace. Chan knew exactly what he was doing, sending those messages out for Stay on bubble. You could imagine him kicking his feet like a schoolgirl while sending them out. You guessed it was his favorite pastime, considering every message got more and more teasing. Asking Stay to come over and he would send the address if they were to ask. And that he would even come to us. Yeah right. 
You figured why not try to tease him back? It wasn’t like he would even respond so what was the harm? You decided to send one yourself. 
‘Big talk for someone with no balls, Christopher. We all know you won’t show up.’ that had you cackling, wanting to send more, maybe make it a little flirty. 
‘Its a real shame too, I just know how you would throw me around if you were here.’ 
‘Oh well, guess I’ll have to take care of myself.’ 
That one made you feel a little bold. Before you stop your impulsive thoughts you sent him a picture of you in your bra and panties, and attached your address. Now it was you who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Even if he would never see them you still found it entertaining. It was the only chance you would ever get to tease him back, so who cares? 
It had been 4 days since the messages you sent back on bubble. Honestly you had forgotten it even happened, putting into the back of your mind since you knew nothing would come from it. You had assumed, anyway. 
It was a Friday night around 10:30  and you were just getting back home from a very disappointing first date. You had been set up through a mutual friend so you decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately he turned out to be like every other guy you had been out with recently; pompous and self absorbed. The guy only talked about how great he thought he was, and how any woman would be out of her mind not to fall at his feet. He gave you the ick right away, but you figured you would get free food out of it so whatever. 
You had just closed the door after letting yourself inside,  flipping on the light and barely able to get off your shoes when a knock on your door alarmed you. ‘Who would be at my door so late?’ With your heel in hand like a weapon you slowly creaked the door open just a smidge, keeping the chain locked. 
It was hard to see who it was, the man standing there had a black beanie and a face mask covering their mouth. 
“Are you Y/n?” They asked, voice sounding eerily familiar. 
“Depends who's asking?” You replied, with a touch of snark.
The stranger laughed quietly, again it sounded very familiar to you but you couldn’t place it. 
“Oh just someone who apparently has no balls.” 
Oh my fucking god no way. 
“C-chris?” Fuck why did you stutter 
“The one and only.” He pulled down his mask enough for you to see the bottom half of his face. 
“What are you doing here?” You were so shocked at seeing the idol, your bias no less, at your doorstep, but you still unlatched the chain on your door. 
Chris leaned against the door frame when you opened it wider, giving your body a quick look over, seeing you in your skimpy dress, then coming back to your eyes. “You told me too, even sent me your address.” He smirked at you when the realization dawned on your face. “Can I come in?” 
You hastily stepped aside to let him in. As if you would ever deny him. Chris stepped in and closed the door behind him, then secured the top lock. He glanced around the living room of your apartment, before his eyes found your nervous body standing before him and ringing your hands. 
You could barely breathe, having him so close, in your home no less, was the craziest thing to ever happen to you. So far. 
“Umm w-would you like a drink or something?” The nerves were still racking through you. 
“Sure. Thank you.” 
You nodded and scurried your way to your kitchen, pulling out a few options. Did he like wine? Or maybe he was a sparkling cider kind of guy? You were about to turn and ask him his preference when you felt a presence behind you, a breath on your neck. Not just any presence, it was Chris. 
“You know,” he began, “ that was quite a naughty thing to do. Sending those pics to a man you don’t know and attaching your address.” His fingers lightly brushed your hair away from the side of your neck and you felt him lean on closer. He could feel your breath catch in your throat at his actions. “And telling me I have no balls, if you weren’t so damn pretty I might have let that slide. Unfortunately I am not a strong enough man to resist a pretty little minx who needs to be put in her place.” His voice was getting raspier as he spoke. 
‘He called me pretty!’ The way you focused on that statement was unhealthy, the simple words filling you with a desire for this man you had never felt. Then the other half of his words caught up with you. 
“Put me in my place?” 
“Mmhmm.” Chris hummed and put his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around to face him as he pushed you up against the counter in your kitchen. You let out a squeak at the sudden force. “Seeing you in those frilly little panties did something to me. I’ve never felt this ravenous for a fan before.  There is something special about you y/n. Will you let me show you?” He held a deep gaze on your eyes, asking for your consent. 
It was an easy answer, “Yes Chris of course.” 
As soon as you answered he put his lips directly on yours, a clash of teeth and spit. It felt like he was trying to consume you with the way he kissed you, tongue wasting no time before shoving itself into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. This felt like a fever dream, but you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so you would let him take all he wanted from you. 
Chris tightened his grip on your hips and lifted you to sit on the counter that was behind you. His hands were warm as they ran up your thighs, slipping under your dress. You let out a quiet whimper when he made contact. He was so close yet not close enough. 
“Don’t be shy, now. You weren’t shy when you sent me those pics huh? What happened to that girl?” He pulled back enough to smirk at you, giving a bite to your lip as he went. You couldn’t find your words, too enthralled by him to form a sentence. At your silence he tutted in mock disappointment and let his mouth fall to your neck, mouthing at the skin there and laughing when you moaned. “Tell me sweet thing, why did you tease me like that?” 
“I-i didn’t think you would see it.” you squealed when he nipped at your neck. “ You w-were being the tease, Chris.” 
“You’re right, baby, I was being mean wasn't I?” He let his fingers find the side seams on your panties, hooking his thumbs under the fabric. “I was riling up my poor stays, they don’t deserve that, do they?” He was cooing at you, almost making fun of you.
 Had this been any other man you wouldn’t have taken his menial words and demeanor. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Bangchan. This was the man you’ve thirsted after for years.Someone you thought would never even know you existed. And for some reason you didn’t mind the way he talked to you. If anything it felt good. Felt like you were letting go of your inhibitions and letting this man, who obviously you don’t know- but it almost felt like you did know him. You had been following his group and him for so long. 
“No, t-they didn’t deserve i-it.” You could not stop stuttering, nor could you catch your breath. 
“Should I atone for that, sweetheart?” His thumbs were slowly pulling down your underwear, so slowly you almost didn’t register it at all. “Should I make up for it right now, with you? With my precious stay?” 
Once your panties were slipped down enough that they dropped off onto the floor, he paused his movements as if waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to gather yourself enough to answer. 
“Yes, please use me to make it up. Please, Channie.” 
That seemed to set him off, his fingers going to your core and finding your clit with ease. You let out a whimper at the contact, hips raising to get even closer. You could feel his mouth back on your neck, sucking the skin and surely leaving hickeys. Reminders that this is real. 
Chris hummed into you as he let the digits find your opening and flick up and down, sloshing through your wetness. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed though. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?” He still had that condescending tone, knowing damn well you wanted them. He just wanted to hear you say it. There had always been speculation that Chan was a dominant guy in bed, at least now you could confirm that for yourself. 
“Mmhmm please.” you nodded rapidly. 
He wasted no time in pushing his two fingers into your heat, the thickness of them stretching your walls. You let out a throaty moan, the intrusion feeling delicious. So good it almost made you forget this was all happening on your kitchen counter. Almost. 
“Chris.” you panted, trying to get his attention by tapping on the shoulders you were gripping. 
“Hm?” he mumbled while pistoning his fingers inside you, adding another one as he made the sound. 
You were nervous to ask, but figured it was worth a try. “Can- can we maybe take this to my bedroom?” 
He hummed as if thinking about it, then without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. You pointed in the direction of your room and the man headed that way without a struggle. He didn’t even seem to be straining while holding you, his strength coming in clutch. 
Chris went through the door you pointed to and unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. The sight of you; panting and glassy eyed, dress riding up your hips to expose your cunt to him, made him harder than he cared to admit- the tightness in his pants becoming too much to ignore. 
You really were an exquisite beauty. He knew the second he laid eyes on your form in that picture you sent that he would somehow have to find his way here to you. He would never admit it but the thought had been plaguing him for days. Fuck, the man flew across the world for this. Luckily it hadn’t been in vain, as you seemed to want him as much as he wants you. 
Chris’s gaze felt scrutinizing, as if every twitch you emitted was being memorized by him. Little did you know it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t one to fuck around with fans (he left that for Hyunjin and Jeongin) but he was enjoying himself and wanted to commit this to his memory. 
“Tell me, sweetheart,” He drawled out as his hand went to the tent that was present in his pants, “Am I your bias? Have you thought about me like this before?” You couldn’t meet his stare, giving yourself away to him without having to say anything. “Hmm I am huh? I would have thought with the way you act online maybe you would have preferred maybe Lee Know to be here making a mess of you. Or even Seungmin.” You rapidly shook your head in protest to his words. “No? So you don’t want me to leave you here and call one of my boys to come help you instead?” 
He was being patronizing but you still answered earnestly “No please! Only want you!” You don’t know what you would do if he left right now, you were so needy for him you had started to cry. 
“You only want me?” He pointed to himself, grinning when you nodded. “Prove it. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.” 
His stare was menacing, almost challenging. He wanted to see if you would follow his orders. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and frozen. Chris wondered if maybe he was taking it too far with you, but was mistaken when you laid flat on your bed and your fingers nervously trailed down your exposed thighs and to your wet entrance. 
You both let out a whimper when your fingers entered your hole, the slick sounds resonating in the room. If this is what he wanted you weren't going to deny him. Chris stood over you while you played with yourself, his own palm rubbing himself through his underwear, he had pulled his sweats down enough to rub over the opposing fabric. 
He lost it when you whined his name, unable to contain his urges any longer. He shoved his boxers down his legs and let them along with his sweats fall to the floor, before he pounced on you. You gasped as Chris caged you under him and ripped your fingers out of yourself. “Chris?!” 
“You really are a fucking tease arent you?” He went to line himself up before his senses came back to him. “You got a condom, pretty girl?” 
“In th-the bedside t-table.” You pointed to the table beside you. 
Chris reached into the drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, giving you a raised eyebrow. “It’s been a while.” You shrugged sheepishly. 
He chuckled and pulled one out of the box, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling along his hardened length. “Think you can take all this, baby girl?” there was that cocky attitude you were growing to love. 
“Please. Want it Channie.” 
That was the go ahead he needed, lining up to your entrance and pushing into your heat slowly. 
“Fuuuck.” He groaned out while you cried against him. He was breathing heavy, you were so tight he was suffocating within you.It didn’t help that he was the biggest you had ever taken. If you hadn’t been so wet the stretch of him would have been painful for you. But instead it was delectable, a welcome burn. 
When you bucked your hips up into him he took that as his hint to move, and he began a punishing pace. His own hips meet yours as you thrust into the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass, you’re arousal coating them and adding to the filthy sounds resonating in your room. It all sounded so wet. 
When you opened your mouth to let out a high pitched moan Chan took the opportunity to grip onto your cheeks, keeping your mouth open for him as he spat directly on your tongue. “Be the good girl I know you can be and swallow it. Swallow my essence, sweetheart.” You did so with no hesitation, opening your lips to show him. “Nnggg so fucking good for me, for your bias.” 
His words alone could make you cum, already feeling yourself on the edge from all the playing he did with you. You clenched on him at the praise he gave you, causing him to groan again and drop his face into your chest, suckling your skin harshly. He wanted you to remember him after he is gone. 
Or maybe he would keep you. 
It sure was tempting to keep a sweet girl with such a sweet pussy. He could even share you with the other boys, he is sure they would love a taste of you once he tells them about you.
“Channie…. ‘M close.” 
Chris nipped your skin once before bringing his fingers down to where you were connected, finding your clit and massaging roughly. “Come on, little tease. Give it to me. Make me proud and cum.” 
At his instruction you fell over the edge, cumming with a deafening cry of his name. Chris wasn’t far behind you, the clenching on his cock sending him to orgasm. You writhed under him as you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up,albeit inside the condom he wore.
Chris pumped himself within you once, twice and a final third time as he rode out his high. After your quaking was over he slowly pulled out of you, both too sensitive for anything else. The idol pressed a final kiss to your mouth before removing himself from you completely. He wandered over to the trash can you had in the corner of your room and disposed of the rubber. 
You laid there on your bed completely fucked out, mind in a haze as you watched him pull his boxers back on. He turned to you with a boyish grin. 
“So tell me you little tease, who has no balls now?” 
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
©doitforbangchan
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killinfate · 6 months
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ty ty tyyy for feeding my mike schmidt heart with ur fics, hopefully you can make one where maybe his gf (kinda like there's obviously smth going on between them but they don't address it situation lmao) and she's in all the action at the end of the movie?? hope it makes sense lmao ly <333
yes ofc! sorry it’s taken me like a week to do this thank you for being patient!
WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
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MIKE SCHMIDT X FEM!READER
— NOTHING WAS PLATONIC BETWEEN YOU AND MIKE; THAT MUCH WAS TRUE.
“Abby?” You called out as you stood outside the Schmidt household, trying to peer into the textured glass window on the door to make out any figures.
Stepping back, you looked down at the doormat and knelt down, picking the corner up a little. You’d told Mike before that it was the most typical place to leave a door key but now you were thankful he didn’t listen to you for once.
You unlocked the door and opened it, stepping inside. “Abby?” You called out once more and silence followed seconds later. Abby wasn’t home which was strange, usually having a babysitter for company.
Before your mind could wonder much further, your gaze averted to the vest sprawled over the armrest of the couch. With a sigh you picked it up and read the label “security” patched into it.
“Mike.” You mumble, scolding his forgetfulness despite the fact he wasn’t here. As you looked down at it an idea struck your mind.
You might as well take a trip to the pizzeria and give it to him? Could be important.
Besides, when Mike told you about the strange occurrences at the pizzeria and didn’t care to elaborate, your curiosity got sparked.
Slipping on the security vest, you walked out the house (shutting and locking the door) before getting in your car and driving to the pizzeria.
This really had to happen on the worst night.
After parking in the desolate parking lot, your car, a police car and Mike’s car being the only ones there. The sight of the police car made you feel nervous and urged you to walk a little quicker into the pizzeria.
Walking through the entrance, you could hear voices and a groan of agony. Slowly you walked forwards, noticing a bloody Mike on the ground and a disturbing bunny costume looming over him.
“Mike.” Your voice was a whisper and you stepped back, your foot knocking into a fallen chair. The squeak attracted the attention of whoever wore the costume and Mike.
Mike looked up with pure terror in his eyes. God what were you doing here? Why now? He looked to William who began to turn around.
“No.” Mike murmured with gritted teeth as blood spurred out of his mouth slightly due to the harsh kicks he’d taken in the stomach. Despite his state, Mike was willing to protect you and reached out to try and grab William’s leg and pull him down.
William looked back, and with a harsh kick Mike was knocked out cold. You were frozen in place, not willing to leave the pizzeria without Mike despite how intimidated you felt.
“Hey!” You hear the voice of Abby yell and both your eyes and William’s eyes look to her. “Abby no!” You cry, knowing William would try going after her now. Without a second thought, you grabbed the fallen chair and swung it at the man. Immediate regret; he was charging at you with his knife in seconds.
A bullet pierced through his torso before he could reach you, stopping him just seconds before he reached you. In the heat of it all, you rushed over to Mike and tried helping him up with Abby. He became conscious, his eyes slowly opening and you looked to him.
“Hey.” You spoke softly. He was beaten and bruised and although feeling numb his hand reached for your face, his fingers lightly trailing over your cheek. You were his last thought before he slipped unconscious.
“You’re okay.” Mike whispers and you nod, smiling at him. “I’m okay.” You assure him. “Come on!” Abby brings the both of you back to reality as you help Mike up.
-
Mike was in hospital for multiple injures for a day or so and you and Abby stayed for it. The three of you were in the room, you sat at the chair beside the bed while Abby was sat at the desk in the corner of the room colouring.
“Abby, would it be okay if we could talk for a moment? Just me and her?” Mike asked of his sister, his voice hoarse. Abby looked between the two of you, a smile gracing her lips before she nodded and left the room for the moment.
You smile slightly as you watch her leave before Mike speaks up. “Why were you there?” He questioned. You looked down at your shoes for a moment. Mike wasn’t happy at all with the fact you’d come to the pizzeria but he wanted to know why.
“You forgot your vest, I wanted to bring it to you. Could’ve been important.” You say, looking up to him. Mike looks to you for a moment before smiling and chuckling softly.
“That’s it? My vest?” He says. His eyes avert to it as you wear it and his eyes come back to meet yours.
“Suits you.” Mike teases and you roll your eyes.
“Yeah I don’t think I’ll be getting a job there anytime soon.” You reply, standing up and sitting on the edge of the bed.
There’s a moment of silence, where you look to Mike and his hand reaches out for yours. You gently take his hand in your own and run your thumb across his knuckles.
“I was really scared for you, really scared.” Mike admitted, his face dropping as he remembered the feeling. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“I don’t ever want to lose you, ever. I—“ Mike hesitates on his next words and your eyes look to him in anticipation.
“I love you.” He finally says. For a moment there’s silence and Mike immediately feels he’s screwed up, shutting his eyes tightly and retracting his hand from yours.
Too soon?
Before he can begin rambling apologies, he feels your lips on his forehead and his eyes open. You pull away and look to him, leaning down once more and planting two more kisses on his cheeks before finally kissing his lips.
It was a gentle and delicate kiss, nothing too strong or deep. You hold the kiss for a moment before pulling your lips away. His lips are parted slightly as you do, as if he’s still reliving the moment.
It isn’t long before your lips are back on his.
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