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bunnyreaper · 7 months

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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 3 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 7.2k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, hints of petplay, mild public play notes - part 3 kind of ran away from me, if you can't tell from the word count!! i had a lot of fun with this one, so i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥

Life was teaching you early on in this budding relationship that life without Johnny drags.

The first day or two he was gone wasn't so bad. Before he'd even left the country, he'd sent you an incredibly drool-worthy photo of him in his fatigues. You've spent more time looking at it over the past week or so than you probably should've—fixated on the size of his arms, the confident pose, and the mic set around his neck.

The sight of that alone sent your thoughts reeling—and was the part you'd zoomed into on the most, beside Johnny's handsome face.

Then came the voice note, the one you've been listening to on repeat—addicted to Johnny's words and voice. Finally, you have it captured to listen back to on demand. He'd sent you other voice notes since, shorter ones with "I'm thinking about you." or "Just met a street cat, his collar said his name is Halim!" with a photo accompanying it.

Those made your heart sing, and your smile wide, but the last one he sent was him explaining he'd be going dark, and he'd message again whenever he could.

That had been over a week ago now, and the radio silence left your nerves on edge, frayed and tested as you waited for any sign.

Some sense of salvation had come in the form of an after-work drinking session that turned into a full-blown night out—it was a welcome distraction and an oasis of general socialisation after your desert of solitude.

You were dressed up nice, getting a little tipsy and dancing the night away—only checking your phone as you pulled it out to pay for a drink.

The missed call notification has you rushing to down the drink, so you can head out the back of the club. As soon as the pounding music fades away, you're pressing the phone to your ear and listening to the dial—it feeling tortuously slow as you wait for Johnny to pick up with every ring. Just before it goes to voicemail, his voice is blessing your ears once more.

"Hey, pretty girl." He greets, his voice seemingly as bright as always.

"Johnny!" You all but squeal in excitement, a heady combination of missing him and the effects of the alcohol making your enthusiasm bubble over.

He laughs, slow and sweet, as warmth spreads through your chest. "Missed me that much, aye?"

You missed him far too much considering the current state of your relationship, but even in your intoxicated state, you know to keep that mostly to yourself. "Missed you so much!" You giggle, moving further away from the door as a group of people join you out back—cigarettes hanging from their fingers.

"Missed you too. Where are yer?" Johnny asks, clearly hearing the commotion in the background.

"I'm out with some people from work, but I'll go home right now, I swear—"

Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish your offer. "Don't you dare, lass, enjoy your night. I just wanted to let you know I'm back, tha's all."

Hearing from him was such a relief, and you are so glad he called—though now you don't want to stop talking again. "Does that mean we can meet soon?" You ask—voice light, flirtatious, and most importantly hopeful.

"I was thinking Sunday if that works for yer?"

"Making me wait again, Sergeant?" You practically twirl your hair around your finger as you tease him, smiling unreservedly as you hold the phone to your ear.

"Keep talking like tha' and I'll come down there right now." His growl is playful, but you can tell using his rank has some sort of effect on him.

You pull your lip between your teeth, giggling once more and flushing with need. "Do it, I dare you." You taunt.

Johnny's sigh is a little defeated, his tone a little tired and flat compared to usual."I cannae, still got things to wrap up. Tha's why I said Sunday and not tomorrow, sweet thing."

You relent with your joking, not wanting to keep up with teasing when Johnny seems a little... low. "You're worth the wait." You whisper into the phone, soft and sincere—you hope that makes him smile at least.

"We'll sort out the details tomorrow, yeah?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Sounds good."

He perks up a little bit, even if it sounds somewhat forced. "Feel like doing me a favour before you get back to yer friends?"

"Anything." Your answer is instant, especially if it would cheer him up right now. Coming back from the things he must see has to be hard, and you can't blame him for continuing to be affected by it. Is that why he needed an extra day? To decompress and adjust back to being Johnny instead of a sergeant in the army?

"Send me a picture of your outfit." The sentence lands somewhere between a question and a command—though you had every intention of complying anyway.

"Yes sir." You answer instinctually, not putting too much thought into it until you hear Johnny's growl in response. The kind of growl that ignites something deep within you every time you hear it.

His voice is low, rumbling down the phone with a hint of playful warning. "Bonnie..."

"Sorry." You laugh lightly, before turning more sincere. "I'm glad you're safe, Johnny."

The line is silent for a moment, just long enough for you to worry you've said the wrong thing, but as always, Johnny washes away your doubt. "I'm glad you waited for me."

"Of course." A shiver passes over you, the night air making you want to retreat back inside. You wrap an arm around yourself as you brace yourself from the cold. "Talk tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, for definite. Have a nice night, angel." His wish is sincere, the softness in his voice something you'll replay over and over again.

"Night, Johnny."

You wait for him to end the call before you rush back into the club, beelining straight for the bathroom to snap a picture just for Johnny. The dress isn't your usual clubbing outfit, having come straight from work, but you look cute, and you feel confident as you send the picture straight to Johnny.

The next day drags even more than the last few have, especially with the mild hangover thundering your skull. Every part of the day is just about going through the motions, getting through it, so you're one minute closer to seeing Johnny. Every moment is a little dull, until you find yourself waiting for him at the exit of the train station.

The excitement and the nerves wage war inside you—with each passing second, you're getting closer and closer to being swept up in Johnny's arms, to hopefully feeling like you're finally home. But with each second, you're inching closer to vulnerability, to risk, to the possibility that somehow he might decide after today that he never wants to see you again.

Maybe he'll look at you and realise he doesn't quite like your body, or the way your mouth moves when you talk. Maybe he'll hate your mannerisms, or find that in person you're actually really boring to talk to. Perhaps he'll just know within moments of meeting you that you'll never be his home, never be his.

The thought is terrifying, crawling around the back of your mind as you scan every passing face in the hopes of seeing the silly little mohawk you long to run your fingers through.

And when you do, the world stills.

You spot him before he spots you, and you get a moment to appreciate his searching gaze, his quietly confident swagger, the way his denim jacket stretches over his shoulders, and his shirt clings to his stomach.

In short, he's a vision. All man—big and strong and beautiful. It takes everything within you to not launch yourself into his arms as soon as he gets close.

He continues to look around as he makes his way through the ticket barriers, glancing between the crowds and his phone as he makes his way closer and closer. You emerge from your hidden spot, your legs carrying you without hesitation over to him—and when your eyes meet, you both stop completely still for just a moment. Nothing but wide smiles on your faces and a magnetic pull that draws you together.

The bodies in between you are a hindrance, a barrier you both need to be gone as you weave through them before finally standing before each other—and at that moment everything feels right.

"Wow." Johnny says as he looks you up and down and drinks all of you in.

"Wow yourself." You giggle, checking him out just the same and adjusting to just how much more handsome he is in person—as if such a thing were possible. "Hi Johnny." Even you are surprised by how breathless you sound, but it makes perfect sense when you consider how fast your heart is beating, how your hands are starting to shake.

"Think I must be dreamin'" He blinks in disbelief, unable to keep the radiant, infectious smile off of his face.

You blush deeply, and find you can no longer meet the intensity of his eyes. "Flatterer." Your word is a whisper as you push yourself to your tip toes and wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him in for a hug.

His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you close, tightly enveloping you in a serene feeling of safety, as well as his fresh, masculine scent.

Home. You think it's the closest you ever felt to it, bundled up in his arms as he cradles you like you're the most precious thing on earth to him.

His hands roam over your back, caressing you so delicately and savouring every bit of you, as your own hands thread around the back of his neck, and you sink your fingers in, grasping him to ground yourself in the moment. It's real, he's real, and being in his arms feels so right it almost hurts.

"You're even more gorgeous in person, bonnie." He whispers in your ear, breath hot and sending shivers all over your body. Thank god he's holding you upright, as your entire being is so vulnerable right now to every sensation.

He pulls away slightly, but keeps you close, his eyes returning to yours once more, looking at you like you're everything.

"I could say the same about you." You giggle, feeling self-conscious beyond belief. "Your eyes..." They're so blue, two oceanic pools of deep emotion, pulling you under the longer you stare.

Everything you feel is reflected in his eyes—hope, bliss, excitement.

"Grew them maself." He laughs, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at his own silly joke.

He has you captivated entirely, as you drink in every single feature on his face—the strong brows, the scar on his lips, the dimples hidden behind his stubble. Every detail makes your heart thump against your rib cage, makes you want to reach out and trace your fingers over every little thing you discover.

You're snapped out of your reverie when someone's bag brushes past you, and you remember you're in the middle of a train station, blocking people's way.

"We should move out of the way."

"Aye." He nods, slipping an arm around you so as to not lose contact as the two of you shuffle out of the path of the commuters. "Fuck. Am not letting you go now."

His grip tightens around you as he pulls you in once more, hands settling on your waist as he stares down in adoration.

"Good." You can't help the smile on your face, so big and bright your cheeks hurt from how unwavering it is—that's just the feeling Johnny inspires.

This time, it's him who seems affected by your gaze, as he averts his eyes from yours. "'s a bit weird, though." He admits, a strange shyness to his tone.

Nothing about Johnny right now would suggest he's anything even close to nervous or uncomfortable, but you figure a man like him is very good at masking how he really feels. Your hands slip to his chest, your thumbs rubbing soothingly back and forth as you try to project a sense of calm to soothe you both.

"Have you never done this before?" You ask, curiosity brimming but with no underlying judgement.

"No." His cheeks begin to redden as he glances at you briefly, a rare display of shyness from the seemingly endlessly confident man. "Don't laugh, it's ma first time."

You continue your soothing gesture as you speak from the heart.

"I wouldn't laugh! I have done this before, and I'm still so fucking nervous." Said nervousness escapes you in the form of a clipped laugh. "... If it wasn't obvious from the blushing and shaking."

Johnny made you nervous, and yet peaceful all at the same time. His pull was irresistible, concrete, even if you stumbled to him on shaky legs. You knew what he might be feeling right now, if his heart was anything like yours.

"Oh, am sweatin' a tonne right now, if ya cannae tell." His laugh and smile are almost disgustingly sweet, along with his unbracing honesty. Johnny really is something else, you think.

You step away from him, intertwining your fingers into his much larger hand, as you start to lead the way out of the train station. "Better get you out into the fresh air then."

The two of you walk in comfortable silence across the short distance until you're hit with the sun's warmth and a blast of cooler air. You start walking into the city centre, aiming to wander around for a little to kill time.

As you walk, Johnny's grip tightens, and his hips sway playfully into your own, nudging you only to pull you back to his side with a bright grin on his face. "Meant what I said about not letting go of yer hand."

"Keep it, it's yours." You squeeze back, looking up at Johnny to see him observing his surroundings keenly—must be a soldier thing, you muse. "Do you come here much?"

"A little. Usually kept pretty busy back on base." He answers, glancing at you before taking in more of the area.

"Well, I guess you'll be getting familiar." You nudge his hips, returning his earlier playfulness as you flirt with him unashamedly.

His eyes are fixed on you now—a brow raised and a mirthful smile on his face at your assumption.

"Oh, will a now?"

"I hope so." You admit sincerely, feeling the heat in your cheeks. If you keep smiling as much as you have so far, the expression will be permanently etched onto your face. "But that'll be more, so after we see the kitties. Our slots in 20 minutes, right?"

"Aye, you excited?" He looks at you as if to confirm your true reaction, his eyes searching.

"I am, honestly I was expecting just a normal coffee date but as soon as you suggested it, I couldn't let it go." You're practically rambling, but honestly, Johnny's suggestion was perfect. First, it let you know he enjoyed, or at least was at ease around cats, which was always a green flag. Plus, it was something different, catered to the two of you that shows he'd been thinking about it, and who wouldn't swoon at that?

And on the off chance there was an awkward silence where you didn't know what to do, at least you had furry friends for you both to pay attention to.

His eyes flicker with doubt for a moment, before he masks it with a distracting smile. "Was worried it might be a bit naff."

If only he knew how much you had been freaking out about how cute you found the whole thing—and the fact that he might as well have just straight up said it was the beginning of your new dynamic together. You'd be his pet, the whole thing made perfect sense. "If it is naff, it'll only be because I might get jealous."

"Ach, why?" He asks, seemingly finding the idea of you needing to ever feel such a thing ridiculous.

You look up at him with soft, pleading eyes and a playful pout on your lips. "Well, you'll be giving all the cats head pats, but will you have any for me?" Even the tone of your voice is designed to tug at his heartstrings, slipping into your role so naturally.

"I'll always have some for you, kitty." He laughs, letting go of your hand just to ruffle at your hair until you playfully shove him away—then he's grasping at you again, not wanting to relinquish contact for even a second.

"Besides, they get to wear collars and flaunt it right in front of me. Don't they know what they're doing?" A suggestive smirk is directed at him, which he eagerly returns.

"Oh, you'll be in one before you know it, bonnie." He drops this news so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world— as if the two of you are just having a regular conversation "We'll come again, make them jealous right back."

You swallow thickly, already aching for that eventuality—even if it may be a ways away.

"Sounds like a date." You mumble, filled with shyness and need. Coughing, you take a moment to compose yourself and steer the conversation away from something that will send your thoughts spiraling. "I did look through the website to see what kind of cats they had, and there's a cat with your name, different spelling though."

Johnny pulls you closer, head dipping slightly to talk close to your ear, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. "Now I'm gonnae be the jealous one."

His words make you shiver, make it difficult to keep walking like everything is fine—but you can flirt just like he can. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes prettily as you smile so sweetly. "I've only got eyes for one Johnny, don't worry."

The blush that rises to his cheeks tells you that your act had the desired effect.

"That's what I like tae hear." He mumbles, squeezing your hand in an affectionate gesture.

After wandering the high street for a short while and just enjoying each other's company, you circle back to your destination. The two of you enter the café, kick off your shoes (or boots for Johnny), and are seated at a table toward the back of the room— just a little out of sight from everyone else. You order a tea, while Johnny orders a flavoured coffee, giving you an insight into his tastes and preferences that makes you smile.

You remind yourself to keep that information in mind for later, filing it away under your list of things about Johnny that you're sure will only expand throughout the day.

When the server leaves the table, the two of you look upon each other fondly—shy smiles and burning cheeks. There are so many words at the tip of your tongue, so many things you want to say and ask and know about the man before you—as your brain buzzes with energy, so do your hands, feeling a little lost now they're no longer connected to any part of his body.

It's easy to tell that Johnny sees more than he lets on, as he observes you before him and seemingly filters through your thoughts.

You return the favour and watch Johnny intently—eyes fixated as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, as his throat bobs as he swallows, and your brain is invaded with a deluge of inappropriate thoughts.

Luckily, you're saved by the bell—a little tinkling noise from a cat beside you as it walks on by and demands your attention with a haughty meow.

"Look, there's Jonny!" You gasp quietly, the cat just a few feet away staring at you curiously. Taking it slow, you lower your hand to the ground and make no move toward the cat, waiting for it to get a smell and a feel for you. It isn't long before the cat in question is launching himself into your lap, drawing delighted laughs from both you and Johnny.

You run your fingers through the thick fur of the white longhair, figuring out what spots the cat likes most.

"He likes you." Johnny comments with amusement, shuffling ever so slightly closer until your thighs touch—his arm slips around the booth seat behind you as he settles in.

Your eyes meet his, your skin prickling with the intensity of his closeness. "Hopefully like the human version."

"Definitely." The arm around the back of the seat comes to settle on your shoulders, as Johnny slowly moves his hand over to the cat and lets him sniff his fingers. Johnny's eyes brighten unmistakably when the feline nuzzles against his hand, and then he breaks out into a mischievous grin. "D'ya think he's cuter than me?"

Johnny tilts his head to the side, almost puppylike as he preens at your attention—your eyes roaming over him as if you're making a difficult choice.

"Hmm. He has a lot more hair than you do, but I think you win." You give cat Jonny another stroke, while you smile at human Johnny with glee. "I'll have to feel how soft your hair is to make a real decision, though."

You say it mostly as a joke, but Johnny looks sincere as he urges you to do it. "Go on."

You raise your hand, panic flowing through you as you hesitate for a moment—your fingers hovering inches away from Johnny's head. He leans into your touch, as you stroke through the short tufts of hair. "It's... so soft." You admit, pulling away quickly before you get carried away.

"What did yer think it was gonna feel like?" Johnny asks with a barked laugh that you can't help but return.

You crinkle your nose, because honestly, with the fact he clearly uses styling products to make his mohawk stand on end, you hadn't expected it to feel as soft and pleasant as it did. "I don't know, I can't imagine you have premium shampoo and conditioner in the army."

"They're just naturally luscious locks, dinnae what to tell yer." He swishes his head playfully, as if he's flipping a head full of hair.

"Effortlessly flawless, just like the rest of you." You tease him, joining in the joking.

"Oh aye?" He asks with a wink, playfully fishing for more compliments.

Not that he needs to fish, you think. Surely Johnny knows how handsome he is, and even before meeting him, you've gushed over his good looks.

Still, you look upon him with genuine admiration and rapidly unfolding infatuation, you're exalting words tumbling freely from you without much thought. "You're just so... gorgeous, godlike, really."

"As are you, bonnie. Cannae believe it." The look in his eyes is so real, so intense it makes your heart twinge, and leaves no room for you to doubt the sincerity of his words.

The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes, enjoying the silent conversation that seems to pass between the two of you—the unspoken desire and adoration.

"Are we just gonna spend the day staring at each other?" You giggle, breaking the moment when it becomes a little bit too intense for you.

"Wouldnae be such a bad thing." Johnny replies swiftly, ever so smoothly.

Jonny the cat takes that moment to crawl off your lap, rubbing himself along Johnny as he all but demands pets from the man. Johnny indulges him instantly, large fingers scratching at that perfect point between the kitty's ears. Watching it shouldn't make you blush as much as it does.

"I think he likes you too."

Johnny nods, a serious look on his face. "He knows we're chums."

"You must give really good head pats." You tease, wishing you could take the words back as soon as you said them. Was saying such a thing too much too soon? Was it too early to start to invoke elements of your potential future dynamic?

Johnny meets your eye, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes turn mischievous. "Wanna find out?"

"Of course." Your response is instant, breathless—already offering yourself up to the man before you. You quickly remember your manners. "Please."

Johnny lets the cat on his lap jump down before he turns his attention to you fully, his hand settling on top of your head as he gently, carefully caresses you. Your body is quickly overwhelmed with shivers, an electric sensation coursing through you as his fingers dip deeper into your hair, massaging at the back of your neck until your eyes start to slip shut from the sheer bliss.

They shoot back open when his fingers dip the chain on your neck, tugging sharply enough to get your attention without putting any real force behind it.

He leans in as if to share a secret, his smirk wolfish as you continue to react so perfectly to his touch. "Nice choker, by the way, pet."

"Wore it just for you." You whisper, words weak as you tremble with so much need for Johnny.

He's pulling back, taking all his warmth with you, before he strokes through your hair one more time. "That's my girl."

You could burst into flames right now, or simply melt under the intensity of his gaze. Not even an hour into date one, and you can already feel how wet this man has made you, how much he makes your heart call out to him. Your body and soul burn with need, already wanting more of him in every way.

"Fuck." You sigh in frustration, burying your head into his shoulder to hide your aroused expression. "I hate that there's so many people around right now."

"Feeling naughty?" He chuckles in such a knowing way, because he knows exactly what he's doing and how you feel about it.

You meet his gaze, eyes desperate and pleading for mercy. "Johnny, I feel drunk and mindless already and you haven't even actually done anything."

He moves one of your hands from your thigh to his, holding onto it for a moment. He won't offer you mercy, but he will at least let you see how you make him feel too. "Can I borrow your hand?"

"Why?" You ask reflexively, before your thoughts catch up to you. Oh. Oh!"

You allow him to move your hand further up his thigh until your fingers graze over the hardness in his jeans, and you have to stifle your gasp with your other hand.

"Why am letting the cats come to me insteada the other way around." He whispers, voice gravelly and strained.

The feelings both his words and his body inspire in you are dangerous, causing you to act as you palm at his cock through his jeans, listening to the hitches in his breath as you begin to stroke and caress. He's rock solid, all before you even laid a hand on him, and it's addicting to you that he's clearly in just as deep as you are—that he sees all this as you do.

His hand moves to grab at your wrist, warning but not painful. "Ach, quit it." He groans, now on the receiving end of such wonderful torture.

"You started it." You whine, taking the chance to grasp him one more time before you stop your teasing. "Johnny you're fucking huge."

Already your head spins just contemplating it, but Johnny only adds to your delirium.

"Wait until it's stuffin' yer little cunt full." He purrs, lips brushing against your skin as he does, and you have to resist the urge to moan aloud.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to pull away from Johnny as you slip out of the booth. "Okay, I need a breather, join me at the cat tree when you've... calmed down."

His smile is devilish, as he watches you go, content to spectate from afar as you coo over the kittens until he can join you.

Your time at the café passes quicker than either of you would have liked, and when it's time for you to vacate your table, the server approaches once more with a bill for the teas and coffees you had enjoyed.

"Will you be paying together or separately?" They ask, which causes you to glance at Johnny questioningly.

You'd already, in your mind, prepared yourself to offer one or both halves of the bill.

Johnny speaks before you can. "Together." He insists, reaching for his wallet and offering his card to the server—not allowing any room for argument.

You stay silent until the transaction is complete and the two of you are alone again, before you decide to address it. "Johnny... I would've paid."

He shakes his head, flipping his wallet shut as he slips it into his back pocket. "Don't be ridiculous."

You open your mouth to offer further protest, but his brows quirks as he almost challenges you to say another word.

Accepting defeat, you smile graciously and sincerely. "Thank you."

"My ma would pitch a fit if she found out I let yer pay." He continues to wave it off like it's nothing. "Let me spoil yer, aye? You'll hafta get used to it anyway. Okay, kitty?"

You're not sure if it's the idea of him spoiling you or the nickname that makes you shiver the most, but the combination of both makes your head spin.

"I better start thinking of ways to repay you." You joke, throwing him a flirtatious wink as your hand snakes under his jacket to stroke at his chest.

Johnny pulls back, face flashing with a realisation and a bright grin. "Oh, before I forget."

You watch him, just a touch confused, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, patterned paper bag—he hands it straight to you. "Got yer a little somethin'"

"Johnny..." You groan playfully, having not expected a gift, or having brought anything for him either.

"It's nothin', promise." He smiles, encouraging you to open it.

You peel open the paper bag to find a handmade, woven bracelet inside—one you've seen in countless stalls across your life, but the sight doesn't fail to make your heart sing.

"Oh my god, a friendship bracelet?" Your delighted gasp is genuine, as you feel touched by the gesture.

"Needed to buy something at a souvenir shop. Y'know blend in, look like a tourist." He shrugs casually. "Thought of you."

"I love it, thank you." You clutch it to your chest, genuinely so pleased. "Did you get yourself one?"

"No?" Johnny plucks the bracelet from you, as he takes hold of your wrist and gets to tying the threads together.

You pout, half joking and half serious, as you realise you won't be matching. "Wow, guess we're not friends then."

"Puppy." His tone is warning and serious, drawing your attention to him so obediently.

You swallow, nerves flooding through you. "Yeah?"

His eyes never waver from yours, the sincerity within making you tremble. "The things I'll do to yer, friends don't do tae each other, yeah?" His low tone and the lack of a playful smile make you clench.

"Understood." You nod dumbly, too awestruck and aroused to give him a real response.

"Good girl." He grins, patting your wrist with the bracelet now attached. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah..."

He takes your hand in his once more, leading you back to the entrance to collect your shoes before you make it back onto the street. All the while, you turn his words over in your head, desperately holding on to the soaring feeling in your chest and the pit of arousal deep inside you. The effect he has on you is downright vicious.

"Where to now?" He asks, waiting for you to lead him around the city.

The cooler air of the street helps calm you down, as you steer your thoughts back to more appropriate things.

"I was thinking we could just walk around, window-shop. Maybe grab some dinner? When have I got you til?"

"Last train is at 9."

You sigh wistfully, already dreading the moment he has to feel. "Doesn't feel like long enough."

"You'll be sick of me by then, lass." He chuckles, his smile still making you feel as full as it did the first time you saw it.

"Not if you're sick of me first."

The two of you take in the city streets hand in hand for a little while, wandering around the shops and chatting about anything and everything. The conversation comes just as easy as it always does, and before long the two of you head for something to eat and drink at a nearby pub.

The atmosphere is cosy as the two of you tuck yourselves away at a table in the corner, order your food and drinks and get to chatting once more. You've already teased Johnny for ordering another coffee along with his meal, while he needled you for ordering several side dishes instead of a main.

Both of you are excited to tuck in when the food arrives, and your conversation turns to getting to know more about the other.

"So, what can you tell me about work?" You ask, finally feeling brave enough to broach the subject. Johnny's work will come with a lot of complications, you already know that, and one of them is likely that he will have to be careful about the things he shares. That doesn't stop your curiosity, though.

"What d'ya wanna know?" He responds, open and earnest, as he dips a chip into his sauce.

You think for a moment, trying to conjure up your most pertinent questions. "Who do you work with?"

Johnny swallows his food before wiping his hands on his napkin and pulling out his fun. He turns it to you when he brings up a photo, zoomed in on an older man in tactical gear.

"Well, first there's the Captain, Price. Best captain we could ask for." He comments, looking to you for your response.

Something in the Captain's eyes tells you he's dependable, and you can hear the respect he holds from Johnny's voice.

"Interesting facial hair." You giggle, referencing the grown-out mutton chops that surprisingly suit him.

Johnny laughs, nodding in agreement. "Oh aye, a right character he is." He swipes along the photo to another man, much younger but tall too.

His smile is the first thing you notice, so bright and earnest, and with perfect teeth.

"Gaz, Kyle. We're always getting into shit together." He adds with a mischievous chuckle. "Good lad though."

"He looks nice." You offer, before scrolling across the image yourself.

The next man in line is the tallest and broadest, his face hidden behind a skull mask that you find strangely endearing. "Ooh, cool mask."

"That's Ghost." Johnny whispers, his voice more sombre than before.

The lack of a real name combined with the mask confuses you. "Just Ghost?" You ask.

"Aye, unless he tells you otherwise. Scary motherfucker, loves a good dad joke though." Johnny humanises him, and the fondness within his voice doesn't escape you.

All in all, you're left with more questions than answers, but you already feel privileged that Johnny has shared this much with you. Still, there's something pressing on your mind. "Everyone gets a nickname, what's yours?"

"Soap." He answers firmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Soap? Why?" You can't say you're familiar with military nicknames, but Soap certainly seems like a strange one.

"Am good at cleaning house." There's something underlying his playful tone that you can't quite put your finger on, something hinting at the inevitable darkness underneath.

Johnny pushes past it like it never happened, turning the attention back on you. "How's your work, anyway?"

"Boring, though I imagine every job is compared to yours." You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you try to conjure up anything interesting about your career. "I work at my PC all day and the highlight is office gossip, which is often about one or two messy people fucking everyone in the building."

"Like reality TV, but you live it?" He smirks, already seeming amused by the inevitable stories he'll get to hear. It seems Johnny might be a little bit of a gossip.

"Yes, exactly!" You giggle, finding his intrigue endearing. "So I live in reality TV and you live in one of those gritty military shows."

"Pretty much." He clicks his tongue, turning to take a sip of his own drink as his eyes glaze over again.

You dread to think of all the things he's seen—witnessing them on TV is already too much for you, never mind seeing them for real.

"... It must be tough." You offer earnestly, unsure of what else to say.

"Sometimes, it's no' so bad, really." He shrugs, a tight smile on his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm with yer, not now anyway. That okay?"

The softness in his eyes fuels the guilt gripping at your chest—you never meant to pry or make him uncomfortable, only to offer yourself up as a safe space. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for. You'll have plenty of time to get to know that part of me, tha's all." He gives you a smile, a more earnest one this time, as he refuses to let either of you settle in a solemn moment. Instead, he redirects to the idea of you spending time together in the future.

"Oh, I will?" You ask, voice hopeful—any negative emotions swirling away as Johnny reaches out to stroke your hand.

"Already planning our second date in ma head." He winks cheekily, that gorgeous smile back on his face in full effect.

You settle back into your meal with a contented warmth spreading through you, feeling like there's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Johnny's side.

When you make it to the train station hours later, your heart starts to sink as you get closer and closer to your goodbye. The sun is only just beginning to dip into the sky, but the train schedule demands Johnny's return to Hereford.

The two of you stand before the departure boards, savouring your last moments together as you hold each other close.

"How are yer getting home?" Johnny asks, ever the gentleman.

You don't look him in the eye as you speak words you know he isn't going to enjoy hearing, in fact, you all but hide in his chest as you mumble. "I was planning on walking."

He stiffens, pulling away slightly. "I'll order an uber." His words are laced with a protectiveness—and whether it's his instincts as a man, a soldier, or a dom you're not sure. Likely, it's a combination of all, making him determined to get you home safe and sound.

You already know better than to argue with him on this. "I can order my own uber."

His eyes soften, clearly relaxing upon hearing you relent so easily. "Promise?"

You nod. "I swear, I will."

You cuddle back into his chest again, the two of you clinging to each other. With your ear pressed against him, you can hear the steady rhythm of Johnny's heart, and you focus on it beating as you absorb every last moment with him.

That moment is interrupted by the station announcement, informing you that the next train to depart will be his.

"I better get going." He loosens his grip on you but still holds your arms as he stares down at you adoringly.

"Don't want you to." You admit, voice a little forlorn. It already hurts to let him go, especially since you don't know when you'll see each other again. Johnny could be deployed again at any moment, and after making all of this real, the thought seems paralysing.

"I don't want to either, but I'll see yer soon." He whispers soothingly, a hand stroking across your cheek as the promise falls from his lips.

You force yourself to smile, to feel strong in the face of your separation. Something within you urges you to put on a brave face, to show Johnny that you can be resolute for him. "We'll have to think more on a cool date number two idea."

"We will." He nods, fingers still stroking oh so delicately across your cheek, as his eyes flicker down to your lips. "Bonnie?"

"Yeah?" Your response is barely audible, your breath stolen as you know what's coming next, and you crave it so desperately.

"Gonna kiss yer now, if tha's alright."

"Please."

Johnny closes the final inches as he presses his lips to yours—soft and gentle at first as his hand cups your cheek, before the other comes to grasp at you too, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body floods with euphoria, desire, peace—as you kiss back with everything you have and pour all of yourself into him.

The two of you are lost in each other, all grasping hands and lips caressing lips—two hearts opening up to each other.

Johnny is the only one of you with enough restraint to pull away, settling his forehead against yours as he smiles unreservedly—his eyes shining with delight. "Fuckin' Christ."

You push against his chest, putting some distance between you as you giggle. "You better go before we commit acts of public indecency."

"Aye." He nods, yet he tucks a finger under your chin to angle your mouth up at him. "One more?"

You nod enthusiastically before diving back in, savouring his lips on yours—the taste of coffee, the softness contrasted with his stubble, the hint of a groan that rumbles through him.

"Okay." He sighs, forcing himself to step away, even if your hands remain linked. "Message me when you get home, yeah?"

"I'll be texting you the second you leave, sorry."

"Oh, I was planning on doing the same, dinnae worry." He winks.

Reluctantly, you let him go—instantly feeling a little more lost without him at your side.

"See you soon, Johnny." You call out, smile soft as he makes his way over to the ticket gate.

"Not if I see yer first, sweetheart." He calls back, then turns his attention away to scan his ticket at the barrier.

On the other side, he catches your eye once more, offering you a tiny, playful salute before he turns to make his way to his train.

You're left in a weird state between euphoria and emptiness—feeling like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Johnny was everything you could've wanted and more, and you're already counting down the days until you can see him again.

You watch until his silhouette disappears, and turn your attention to your phone to get to ordering that uber you promised him you'd take. When you unlock your phone, a message from Johnny is waiting for you.

Miss you already, my pretty kitty <3

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #soap mw2 #call of duty fanfic #soap cod #collars and cages #this is a big chonky read and idk how to feel about it but here we are

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unholyhelbig · 5 months

Note

Part three of loan shark natty

Title: The Oversight [Part 3/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 3465

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, guns, blood, death, sort of dark nat if you squint, horrible grammar

[A/n: If you guys haven't picked up on it yet, this will be slow-burn. Also, thank you so much for the positive response to this story, it means so much!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

It had been two weeks since the incident that you had deemed ‘the business proposal’, though, if you were being honest, you knew exactly what it was. The bruising against the side of your face, fading from a deep dark purple to an ugly muddy brown reminded you of the encounter. The faster you healed, the more your nerves started to prickle dangerously.

Each time the brass bell above the diner’s door would ring, your eyes would flick to the entrance. With bated breath, you’d study the tired businessman, the English major running on nothing but burnt coffee, or the single mother just looking for some reprieve. Much like yourself.

Clint Barton was the last person you expected and wanted to see. He was certainly the last person you wanted to see, despite the sheepish smile on his face. There was shame etched into his features and a strange softness to his eyes that starkly contrasted the man who had nearly broken your jaw.

His hair was sprinkled with droplets of water, a sweatshirt dotted from the persistent drizzle that seemed to plague the city. He dutifully wiped his feet on the mat and made his way over to you. Instead of his usual booth, Clint sat on the last stool and scratched the stubble on his chin.

He glanced at the menu as if he were going to order something different than his usual. Maybe he wouldn’t order anything at all. But, you had a feeling you weren’t going to escape the conversation at the tip of his tongue, nor the obscenities at the tip of yours.

You poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him without being asked. Clint could swallow down a whole pot of extra caffeinated without a second thought. For now, you urged him to pace himself silently.

“You got a couple of minutes?” He asked behind the rim of his cup.

The diner was mostly empty. It was the middle of the workday and had been a slow four hours thus far. There was only so many times you could wiped down the same table and replace the salt in the shakers.

The cook made eye contact with you as he poured alcohol from his flask into off-brand orange soda. You got a short shrug in response. Otherwise, the place was empty. Clint had timed his arrival perfectly.

“Sure. You’re not going to beat the shit out of me again, are you? Those cameras aren’t hooked up, but this is still a public place.”

“Look, I wanted to apologize for that. Bad information breeds bad reactions. I was doing what I was told. You’ll learn that that’s the only way to get anywhere in this practice.”

He stated it plainly as if you weren’t silently inducted into a criminal ring. You weren’t exactly sure what they did but if it was half as bad as what they’d done to you, it was trouble. Clint could sense your unease. He placed his mug down and lifted a bandaged eyebrow.

“Hold your grudge, y/n. I sure would. Natasha simply told me to collect you after your shift. So, you can sit here and glower at me like a grumpy little monster or you can make conversation and we can become friends.”

You hated how good the second suggestion sounded. He was charming in an annoying type of way. You’d never clicked with anyone in the diner before, certainly not the only other employee that stood behind the grill.

Clint was staring at you like he knew you’d already folded. He covered his smirk with another sip of coffee. You wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his face. He had effectively taken a shot at you, that much was true, but you had crumbled just as easily under Natasha’s wishes.

“Friends is a stretch.” You sounded out.

“Acquaintances, then.”

You conceded with a small nod and Clint smiled in a way that could only be genuine. He swallowed off the rest of his coffee and made small talk with you as you hustled around the restaurant. There was a small rush after classes at the community college let out. But you were able to carry on a conversation, learning a little more about him.

He’d been friends with Natasha for a long time. That much was clear by the way his eyes crinkled along the edges when he’d recall memories that stretched past their current affairs and into childhood.

“We met when we were twelve. I’d just moved to town and was this scrawny, awkward mess of puberty and acne. An easy target is what I’m saying. A lot of neighborhood boys would target me, but I was faster than them. It usually worked in my favor, but there was one day when it had just snowed and it was impossible for me to get any headway.”

Clint regaled you as you filled up his mug for the third time. You lingered behind the counter, chin on your hand as you listened intently.

“Six of them cornered me at a construction site. I didn’t even know how to begin to fight back. I was beaten close to death and then I heard Nat. She ran head-first into danger, tried to take on every single one of them. Of course, she got the shit kicked out of her too, she was just a kid there was no way for her to win. But that didn’t’ matter because she got back up every single time. Eventually they got cold, or bored, probably both.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were impressed. “Shit, that’s quite the meeting.”

“She’s tough, y/n. Not someone you want to fuck with.”

“So, this is a warning, then?” You smiled.

He shrugged his shoulders “A cautionary tale.”

He drove a 1970 Dodge challenger that smelled like cherry leather polish. It was the nicest car you had ever seen, that is, until he pulled up the iron-gated mansion on the outskirts of the city. There was a brilliant view of the harbor, the water a deep and dark blue that seemed endless, an orange sun casting delicious shadows against the docks.

The house was brick, built in a southern style with a large wrap around porch and a stone fountain in the center of a circular gravel drive. It was three stories of decadence, surrounded by large oak trees and the deepest green grass. This was the home of a Politian, or of someone who had one under their thumb.

Three black SUVs were parked in tandem outside. An equally pitch Corvette Stingray was parked directly in front of the steps. You struggled to muffle the thoughts of Natasha in the front seat. The vehicle suited her, and while you most certainly were not a car person, you knew the value of a ride like that.

Clint squirmed with pride, that same smile on his face. It was one that often accompanied him, you’d learn. He took the steps two at a time and waited to open the doors until you’d caught up. He removed his jacket and draped it over the coat rack just by entryway. You, however, were preoccupied by the elegance of the home.

The floor was a checkered black and white, stretching all the way down a corridor to open storm doors, letting in a crisp spring warmth. Light danced against art that cost more than your entire apartment building. White stairs clung to the wall and curved to the second floor. To your left, a dining room. To your right, a living area that had the softest white carpet, and a cream grand piano that your fingers twitched to run over.

There was a sour scent of bleach that reached your nose, and it was only then, did you realize the blood. It was distilled, a quiet pink color, that had been diluted by diligent scrubbing. The girl, the one that was often at Clint’s side herself, was on her knees a few feet away.

She held a scrub brush that looked like the ones used to clean the grout at the diner. Her forehead was damp with sweat, a few stray strands of dark hair falling into stormy gray eyes. The front of her shirt was stained in the majority of the blood. You failed to see how she would have much to clean from the floor. Yet, the bucket of water next to her was a frothy mess of red.

“An hour,” Clint tsked, shaking his head “I left you alone for an hour. I specifically said that I was coming back with a guest, and it was imperative not to freak her out.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

You were absolutely freaked out. But you were quick to realize whose home you were in. The scrubbing of a crime scene was startling, and you wanted to turn tail and run. However, you had seen worse before and your life had been spared once. You weren’t going to get squeamish now.

“You sound freaked out.” Clint turned his attention back to the girl “And its bad manners. If I were the police?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten through the gate.” She stood, dropping the brush into the bucket with a defiant splash. She was taller than you thought, the deep red of her collar harsh against her skin. There was a smile on her lips, and she reached out a hand to you. “I’m Kate.”

“This is y/n and she’s not going to shake that.” Clint batted Kate’s hand away “Who was this?”

Kate rolled her eyes. It was an action that you yourself would never do. Clint may be a bit aloof, but you had seen him in action. Namely when he was three seconds from snapping the bones in your face. She had no fear of him, though. There was a cockiness, a charming attention, to her stance. He didn’t’ seem to mind, or he had gotten so used to her attitude that seeped into him instead.

“I don’t know. Yelena brought them in. If you’re so concerned about the mess, maybe you should take it up with her.” There was a grin that mirrored Clints. She knew she’d won. “I can go get her if you want.”

“No need. Where’s Nat?”

“Out back by the pool. It’s a lovely day.” She leaned close to you, smelling of cleaner, of tin and of the slightest bit of chewed mint. “It’s great to meet you, y/n.”

You were careful not to lose your footing on the slick floors. Clint nudged the bucket with his toe as he walked by, sloshing about the soiled water. Kate cut him a look that only you saw, but it was one that was almost playful. She shook her head and went back to her task.

There were two things you had picked up from the conversation; Clint was afraid of Yelena, and there was somewhere soundproof in this house that she had taken someone that had lost a lot of blood. You shoved both thoughts to the back of your mind when you exited onto the back porch.

Natasha was stretched out like a cat in the sun. She wore a black bikini that left very little to the imagination. You could feel the blush against your cheeks as you averted your eyes to anywhere else, though, you swore she arched her back from the chair at the sound of your footsteps.

Her hair, still slightly damp, was cascading down her shoulders. She wore a pair of sunglasses, a book that was marked halfway through rested on the table next to her. She had clearly given up on reading, instead fully devoting herself to the sun.

Clint didn’t acknowledge her current state, nor did he have an adverse reaction to it. Your mouth was dry, and you shoved your hands into your jeans to keep them from trembling. It was a mix of fear and attraction that caught you off guard on a mostly empty stomach.

She moved her glasses down the expanse of her nose as you approached. Her stare was a startling green, raking across your form. She quirked an eyebrow. The specter of a smile on her face. Clint had noticed something you didn’t, his body language changing into something unreadable.

“y/n,” Natasha purred your name. You fought back a shiver. “You’ve healed nicely.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“ma’am? What manners you have. That’s severely lacking around here.”

Clint rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. You did the same, partly out of fear. But mostly, you were distracted by the scars against her stomach, on her arms and down her back. It wasn’t something you had noticed at first, nor did you permit yourself to stare. Whatever had been done to you when they’d first taken you was nothing compared to what Natasha had been through. Her body told a story, one that you longed to learn.

“Hey sharpshooter,” She turned her attention to Clint “I think Yelena might need your help downstairs. Y/n. Stay.”

It was a clear dismissal, and one that he didn’t’ take lightly. He patted you on the shoulder before entering the house once more. You listened to his footfalls for a few moments, holding your breath until you started to feel your vision falter.

You’d been alone with Natasha before. But this felt different. Heavier. The questions that you’d had these last two weeks were meant to be answered. She gestured for you to sit on the opposite chair, which you did carefully, body tightened to make yourself as small as possible. She removed her glasses entirely, a strand of russet hair falling into her gaze.

“You’re going to quit your job at the diner.” She said.

“I can’t do that,” Your response was automatic.

Natasha sat up, placing her bare feet adjacent to yours. Her knees were pressed against your own. She easily could have pushed your own open and she stared at you as if she contemplated the fact herself. Instead, she lilted her head and peered at you.

“What I mean, ma’am, is that’s my livelihood.”

“Oh, I understand. I wasn’t perfectly clear. You work for me, now. You’re on my payroll. I’m sure it’ll be quite an upgrade.” She leaned closer. “Do you know what I do, y/n?”

You swallowed hard and shook your head. There was an inkling. But it was just speculation. Someone with a home like this had a good handle on business. Natasha certainly conveyed fear, and commanded respect. So did the people who worked for her, willing to take a bullet in moment’s notice.

You weren’t there yet, but you were sure with a little persuasion, you would be. Part of you had felt slighted. They’d pulled you from your life, from your daughter, and threw you into this without any type of explanation.

“The harbor behind you is a center of trade. Whoever controls the harbor controls the city, and for generations my family has had a monopoly when it comes to what comes in and out. There is not a single freight that can dock here without getting past me. Recently, that’s been threatened.”

She sighed and worked a hand through her hair. Her stare flicked past your shoulder, focused on the expanse of water that had been a staple in your life. You’d walk along the docks, chat with the vendors on the way to work. It seemed like a friendly place.

“There are two prominent families in this city, Y/n. The Romanov’s and Danver’s. For the past three years they’ve been pushing back against the real leadership, getting creative. Looking for change. But we simply can’t allow that to happen. Things work as they are.”

You had a feeling that this was the core of her beliefs. Things how they were weren’t so bad. Each person had their own struggles but when it came to integral crime on the streets, in the boroughs, you hadn’t noticed anything and that was the way you liked it. Ignorant, maybe. But it was none of your concern. Not until now.

“A lot of people work for me, but my numbers are dwindling. It’s hard to find good help anymore. You know how it is.”

You didn’t.

“There’s something… in you that I admire. A perseverance to live and protect and you’re going to do exactly that for me.” Natasha stated this plainly. “The Winter Soldier will be predisposed. Not permanently. But I would like you to replace him.”

There must have been disbelief written across your features because Natasha laughed, actually laughed, as your jaw fell open. It was a lovely sound; you must admit. Bucky was well known in the neighborhood. Even without being knee deep in mafia sludge, you had heard of him. You feared him. And the thought of stirring the same reaction seemed unattainable.

“I… what about Clint?” You asked dumbly. He seemed like the natural choice.

“He’s got his hands full with an heiress who, I’m sure you can tell, is a bit aloof. But extremely valuable. Much like yourself.” She quirked an eyebrow “if it’s experience, you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ll train you myself.”

She stood and tapped your leg with her fingers, arousal shooting straight to your core at the slight contact. Your body almost refused to move, but you were quick to snap out of it when she smiled wolfishly down at you. “Now, have you ever killed anyone?”

Your voice was pinched. “No.”

“We’ll have to change that, darling.” She started to saunter away, grabbing her silk cover-up from the back of a nearby chair. She slid it over her shoulders, and it hugged her form with just enough ferocity as the bathing suit. “Come, dear. I have just the person in mind.”

The basement was significantly cooler than the rest of the house, bathed by the sun. As you descended the stone steps, you fought the urge to smooth your fingers over your skin to quell the frigid air.

Natasha seemed unbothered. She led you into a large room that you assumed was soundproof. It was a fairly empty room, lit with artificial bulbs that reminded you much of the warehouse they’d kept you in for the weekend. This seemed more malicious though. Not something to extract information exactly. A form of punishment.

A man was strung up from a low hanging rafter, his feet barely touching the ground. Rope was tied around his wrists, his hands above his head. Blood dripped like syrup from his lips, from a wound against his side. His left knee looked unnatural and broken.

You fought back a groan at the sight, at the smell of him. One eye was swollen shut, his fingers curling when he noticed Natasha’s presence.

Clint’s back was to you, his fingers dancing over an array of tools. He hummed a Metallica song, stopping at a pair of pliers. Yelena had her arms crossed over her chest, walking a slow, predatory circle around the man.

“No,” Yelena took the pliers from Clint “He will need his teeth to talk.”

Your throat tightened. This was the same woman who had sat next to your daughter in the diner. The one who had complimented her art and your job at raising her. She was easy to have conversations with, charming in the purest sense.

She turned towards both of you. “Natasha, you shouldn’t wear open toed shoes here. It is unsanitary.”

The woman next to you was not admonished in the slightest. Not by the cold or the harsh words of Yelena. Instead, she studied the man in front of you. He was in rough shape. If he hadn’t talked yet, he wasn’t going to. That much was clear.

This felt like the first time you served without following around an older, more experienced waitress. Your fingers were trembling and there was a wild nervousness that was in the pit of your stomach. Eventually, you learned, and it was second nature. You wondered if that’s what Natasha wanted. For you to learn not to cringe away from things like this. Just like the Winter Soldier.

As if to prove your thought process, Natasha said “Which one of you has your gun?”

They both pulled them out of various places at the same time, without hesitation, to the question. It made sense that Natasha didn’t have a weapon on her, not with the outfit that she walked around in. The cover-up was too tight against her skin, too revealing.

Yelena was closer, so Natasha grabbed the weapon from her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

“I have.”

Your second foster father was a deputy sheriff in Minnesota. On half-frozen nights, he’d return home from the local bar reeking of sour alcohol and sweat. The door to your bedroom would creak open and he’d drag you from bed, barefoot and in your pajamas.

Most of the time, he had cans set up on an old picnic table that had rotted through. At first, it was your job to set the cans back up and fight off hypothermia. But after three or four sleepless nights, he taught you how to shoot. His body was warm against your back and the first time the gun kicked you had nearly broken your nose.

You considered yourself a good shot when it came to cans, wild turkeys, and even the occasional buck. This was different. This was a human being that was taking in heaving breathes and fighting to pull himself up to give his bad knee a break.

“Do you know how to aim?” Natasha asked.

“It’s been years.”

“Okay,” She breathed.

You flinched when she moved behind you. Her warmth was all encapsulating. She smelled of sunscreen, and vaguely of the salt of the ocean. Natasha’s fingers pressed against your hip, giving you a small squeeze, signaling for you to take a step back.

Her other hand dropped the pistol into yours, heavy and warm. Her hand trailed up your arms, giving you goosebumps, fingers tightening around your own until you held the gun towards the man. The stranger.

Natasha’s chin was on your shoulder, her breathe hot against your cheek. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Right there. When you’re ready.”

She’d aimed the tip of the gun directly between his eyes. You could hear your heartbeat in both ears, vibrating through your body. It wasn’t hesitation, exactly. In this moment, it was his life or yours. Clint and Yelena watched you carefully, with intent.

You took a deep, shaking, breath and clenched your eyes before pulling the trigger. You expected some sort of blow-back. The same throbbing pain that you recalled from shooting at the cans. The scent of gunpowder mixing with cold.

None of those came.

Instead, there was a small click. The safety was on, and though you had squeezed the trigger with the intention to kill, it simply did not fire. You inadvertently slumped back into Natasha and the hand on your hip snaked around your middle, holding you close.

“You won’t have to kill often,” Natasha explained “But it’s good to know you’d do it without question if I tell you to.”

“Oh, Natasha, do not play with her. It is not nice.”

Smoothly, Natasha worked the gun from your hand and switched the safety off before you could blink. She fired two shots in succession, not releasing her hold on you. Your ear was ringing and the man in front of you slumped in his bindings.

“Okay. Very effective. You owe me bullets.” Yelena took her weapon back. “You are cleaning this up.”

“That means I’m cleaning this up.” Clint said.

Natasha hummed in agreement, finally pulling herself away from you. “I think this a job for two, don’t you, y/n?”

There wasn’t room to disagree with her. Not when you could only hear out of one ear, your skin still buzzing from her lingering touch. You could have sworn you felt her own heartbeat against your shoulder blade.

But you’d never bring that up.

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#natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Mafia boss Natasha Romanoff #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Yelena Belova #Request #Mafia au

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andersonlore · 5 months

Text

author!abby who writes a fictional novel based on you, but the two of you hadn’t spoken in years, she really didn’t think she’d be on your radar at all. yeah, sure — you did like to read. but you hadn’t even known about it when you were together. how would you even find out about it? abby sure wouldn’t be the one to tell you.

author!abby starts to worry about you finding out about her book when it starts selling well. she was happy, over the moon actually, but the fear loomed over like a dark rainy cloud, following her every where she went. confessions of love and words never spoken all laid out prettily in ink, and god did abby feel exposed.

author!abby who cries when she gets the news her novel is a new york times best seller. she’s stupidly happy about it and she’s feels proud of herself. almost as if you’re here right along with her, but you’re not. just this idea of you, placed inside this world she created — one where there is a happy ending for the two of you but then the doom of reality sets in.

author!abby nearly passes out when she runs into you. friday night, the moonlight hitting you so well, it truly wasn’t even fair. some other girl on your arm, and she only pulled you closer with abby’s presence.

author!abby still thinks you’re the most beautiful person, inside and out, and it pains her still to see you with someone else who isn’t her. of course she had been with other people, just like you, but there wasn’t anyone who fit perfect like you did.

author!abby wonders what she would say to you if your companion wasn’t trying to size her up. she was a femme which already made abby feel insecure. abby was your only history of dating a masc, which had always been a sore spot. she’s beautiful and the way she holds you, god it makes abby want to hurl.

author!abby thinks it’s silly she can’t just move on. you’re just a girl. granted, a girl who inspired her to write an entire novel. even then, she should be able to get over you. you’re stupidly perfect lips, those stunning eyes that maker her fall to her knees every time. it isn’t fair how much she still loves you after all this time. fuck.

author!abby also finds herself dreaming of you when she's lonely. it's harmless mostly, until she wakes up and you're not on the other side of the bed. then it hits her cruelly, you're not here and you've never even set foot in the apartment she moved into when the two of you broke up. she's living her worst nightmare.

author!abby really believes she's sick when you're untangling yourself from the girl you're with and you collide into her arms. you smell of cedar and vanilla and it intoxicates abby as she feels your arms around her waist. she feels light, the heavy weight of her solemn loneliness bites the dust in your presence.

"Missed my sweet, Abs. Fuck, it's really you and all that muscle, huh?" You kiss her cheek sweetly, so quick she's doubts if it even happens.

author!abby tries not to laugh at your date omitting an aggravated grunt at the interaction, but she decides ignoring it and having you in her arms is far more important. if it's only for this short time, so be it. abby knows she's blushing and hopes it believable the cold is to blame.

author!abby tries not to think of it for the next couple weeks. your kindness spreading to her like angel dust on skin, healing a heart abby had practically broken herself. abby wondered how serious it was with you and the other girl. the only thing she did know, was abby had made her jealous. the way she kissed you and grabbed your ass could only be the effect of bright, green envy.

author!abby starts outlining a new story and she knows as well as her publisher why and now she regrets telling him, but your pure presence had her writing again. the timing nothing other than comical. it shouldn't have, but it did.

author!abby is wearing nothing but black sweat pants and a white beater when there is a knock on her door. it's aggressive and harsh, and it surprises her when it's you. how did she even find out where you live? fuck, manny. it had to be.

author!abby takes in your appearance and it's clear you were dressed for a date, more than likely with the girl you were with earlier. evidently, you were dating her and god you were dressed to the nines in front of her. a cocktail gown with pretty black heels. she tries not to take note of your cleavage and your perfect tits, or the way the material was snug around your hips, accentuating them perfectly.

author!abby knows you're angry, and she isn't sure why. it's not like the two of you had talked since your run in. maybe abby had stalked your socials a bit, yeah. obviously. but she wasn't bold enough to actually reach out to you.

author!abby didn't have to think about it much longer when you threw the book at abby's chest forcing her to catch it. with a look of horror in her eyes, she knew you had found out about it and read it. eyes filled with tears, abby had caused you heartbreak once again. even if it was unintentional, she was the source of your pain and she hated herself for it.

author!abby hates the way you're looking at her, tears cascading down your plump cheeks, but your anger was still prevalent. you had every right to be upset and abby tried to think of it from your perspective. if you had refused to tell her you love her, but then wrote it all in a book and didn't tell her about it, there isn't a sliver of doubt she would be upset.

"I guess I should have listened to Manny and told you about the book." Absent mindedly chewing on her bottom lip. Abby avoids looking you in the eye. She can't even stomach your presence. It makes her feels sick, and happy, and awfully optimistic. It's disgusting.

author!abby knew a light-hearted joke wasn't the best choice she could make, but it was the only one she had. there wasn't much else she could do except wait for whatever blow she knew was coming. this was her own mess, there was no one but to blame but herself.

You ignore her comment. It makes you want to punch her and kiss her. "How could you look me in the eye tell me you don't love me and will never love me and then proceed to write an entire romance novel based on our relationship?" You were practically screaming at her, but your volume was reduced as chocked sobs fell from your lips.

author!abby wishes she could give you an answer that would help, but there isn't one. her reasons are selfish and nothing she says help you - not in the way you need. anything she could offer would provide little to no comfort.

"I'm happy now. I have a girlfriend whose good to me and it took me a long time to get there. To be happy without you and your cruel, vile words hanging over me and infecting my day to fucking day life." You regretted saying it the moment your eyes caught blue ones, guilt pouring out from within. “I’ve finally moved on.” "Then be happy. Just forget about what I wrote. It's stupid anyways, okay? Just a dream I got carried away with." It's a lame attempt and not enough effort is made to sway you to walk away from her front door. Abby pushed because it's the only thing she knows how to successfully do.

author!abby wishes you would go away because if you stand in front of her for any longer, she'll be inviting you in and lord knows she doesn't need this to happen. it's the last thing she wants and the absolute one thing she needs.

"It's not stupid, if it's your dream." You said, trying to reassure her. "You cared enough to write about it. I-, uh, please can you just tell me the truth? Please just tell me?" You pleaded wanting to hear what you thought of endlessly. "I wrote this for the girl I fell in love with, for the girl I still love and will always love and she's standing in front of me with the power to crush my heart in her hands if she wants."

#oh boy #yeah this was supposed to be a lil hc that turned into something a much more #wtf #anyways hi <3 #lesbian #wlw sapphic #abby anderson #abby fanfiction #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x you #abby x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson imagine #rayne writes

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waokevale · 5 months

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The Overlapped AU [Aka Superhumans disguisted as Dinner Theater workers]

The Owners

The Managers (Engineer & the HR person)

The Waiters

The Security

The Performers (Wes is mostly on cleaning duty though)

The Kitchen staff (the others are usually tasked to help, though very few are actually trusted at all times to be there)

The Bartender and the Host

The Dishwashers

The Clerk & The Supplier

So this AU came to me upon a dream, and I just had to make it real...

The synopsis below:

The event of April 17th 1906 does happen, however instead of Charlie and Maxwell being kidnapped into the Constant, the Constant overlaps with the real world and spreads itself onto Earth.

Charlie and Maxwell in the process become corrupted and have to hide away temporarily. Both of them soon began to hear strange voices, source of which neither is quite sure, telling them, compelling them to hide the corruption's effect from the publicity, for the time being.

They come to a mutual realization they have to fix this mess somehow and hunt down any and all corrupted by the tome, by any means necessary.

(Maxwell still has codex umbra, but it is sealed shut for the time being until he's sure it won't spread more if Their influence. )

But the corruption didn't just appear out of nowhere, it's been leaking way long before Maxwell found the Codex, if to a less prominent extent.

Thus, in few years passing, they form a Dinner Theater, a rather inconspicuous establishment from the first glance. Very quickly they began "hiring" employees, which in reality means tracking down and blackmailing those who have been corrupted but not fully lost themselves to its effects, in order to hunt those who had.

Winona was against the idea at first, as she found out. But seeing the effects of corruption first hand, she quickly had a change of heart and integrated herself into Charlie's new environment.

Eventually they gathered a rather generous amount of people. Once a person's proven to be trustworthy to a point, they're give higher positions in the company.

However those who aren't, are likely to be shunned or "fired" which...you could probably guess what that means.

Many of these people gradually come to terms with the reality of their situation and accept their newfound purpose, being thankful that at least they still have a roof over their head and a warm meal, instead of being viewed as monsters or outcasts to the greater society.

(Wilson though, can't quite accept this notion. He keeps claiming that "this is just a big misunderstanding, I'm just a normal guy!" Yet the truth could be far from it.)

When Maxwell and Charlie hear of the danger looming, they immediately inform their "staff" of the matter. Those who are more experienced in combat come along to face whatever opponent may cross them, while those who aren't, stay behind, to be an additional aid or a medic in case the battle gets too intense.

Whenever any suspicion arises in the town about the shady business going on in that particular building, the two owners alongside their employees practically gaslight anyone and everyone into believing they're but the most regular entertainment center.

The characters who have either willingly or unwillingly lost their humanity, mostly in the physical sense, are given special devices constructed of Thulecite and bits of nightmare fuel (made by Winona, Wicker and the main two), which effectively hide away their true identity, or surpress the effects of their ailment.

There's also a few other people important to this story, especially the One, which even Charlie and Maxwell refer to as "The Boss", though what many most recent hires don't know, is that there's someone who's in a position much higher than the owners themselves, controlling their every move.

Correlating to that, another person, or rather, a set of people per se, working for a much different cause. Though most of them are "people" in only a visual sense of the word.

And while, there might be someone inside the well-known around town diner, who just might be more than what appears on the surface, literally and metaphorically this time.

__________

If you're interested to learn more about this AU, do let me know. If you have any questions, I'm happy to hear and answer them!

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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Hi Neil! I just saw your post about how you wove together CGI and practical effects for Good Omens, and I was really curious how much of the same you did for Sandman? I thought that show was absolutely gorgeous, and had some really REALLY visually interesting moments (Morpheus in the cage was the one that sprung to mind as me not being able to tell how much (if any!) was CGI)

Morpheus in the cage is entirely practical. We built that place, then built the cage.

There are a few scenes that are entirely CGI, like Matthew flying into the Castle's ceiling painting and out into our world, but mostly we used CGI in the same way that films made before the Advent of CGI used Matte paintings: to extend sets and fill in details.

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dreadsuitsamus · 3 months

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Bleach Men Taking Your Baby to the Grocery Store Headcanons

author's note: yes the premise is random but it's also very cute and perfectly in line with my recent onslaught of baby fever. also, the banners in this post were created by the always amazing @actuallysaiyan!! thank you for the gorgeous banners, babe! 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x reader, byakuya kuchiki x reader, grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader, renji abarai x reader, ichigo kurosaki x reader

warnings: children ages 5 and younger and grimmjow's parenting lmao this is mostly fluff and some mischief mixed in from the babies

Kensei is definitely the tough parent of the two of you, and he relishes in that fact

But goddammit do those baby eyes make him waver

As he carries little Mila into the store, he tells her they're only there for necessities

No candy, no sugary cereals, only what you've tasked him to buy for dinner

Despite being only three and a half, however, Mila has a pretty good idea of how to get her way with Kensei

It's gotten slightly less effective since the pacifiers have been removed from her arsenal, but anything that cracks her dad's tough exterior is remarkable as is

It starts off innocently enough, though soon the way she sings her little song and bops her head around becomes rife with intent

"Daddy, can has hug?" She blinks up at him, holding her arms up

Either he's willfully choosing to fall into the trap, or Kensei is merely blind in the face of his precious girl

"Of course, baby." Kensei picks her up from the cart and kisses her wonderfully chubby cheek, leading the cart behind him as he continues through the store with Mila hooked on his hip

Mila curls up, humming as her eyes scan the shelves for something she wants

"Hold Momma's list for Daddy, okay?"

Mila's little fingers hold the list carefully, and soon Kensei is at a crossroad

"Broth. What kind of broth?" He mutters, fishing his cell phone from his pocket to call you

As usual, it turns into a bit of a squabbling match. He thinks remembering every little detail is silly, and you think you've made this dish so many times he should know you need chicken broth

Kensei is sufficiently annoyed by the time the phone call ends, and Mila strikes then

"Daddy, can has kiss?"

"Yes, baby." She gets a kiss on either cheek, and the kiss she gives his cheek right back is just about the final nail in the coffin

With Kensei holding her, she's able to reach the shelf and snag a little box of animal crackers

"Daddy, can has this?"

Played by the fucking toddler again!! That's three times this week!

"... Don't tell your brothers." Kensei sighs, hanging his head in shame

It's not all bad though; he does get another sweet kiss from his princess

Byakuya is a strict but ultimately fair father

Little Jasmine has grown up under his watchful eye, though through that she's certainly learned just how many of his limits she can press and how to get around them

Going to the grocery store is rare, and even more so if you're not present for the journey

But it's vacation time, and you're busy setting up the cabin for your family's stay, so Byakuya has been tasked with gathering enough groceries to make it through dinner and the morning's breakfast

Byakuya holds Jasmine’s hand and they walk inside together, Byakuya using a tissue to pick up one of the small hand baskets. There's no telling the last time this thing has been sanitized!

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Byakuya asks the five year old, and Jasmine hums thoughtfully

How can she end the first day of this vacation with a delicious banana split?

Appealing to her father's tastes will increase the likelihood of success, and her father is quite fond of spicy foods…

“Can we have curry?”

The light in his eyes isn't missed by the girl, and she can practically taste an ice cream sundae with a waffle bowl already

“You're becoming more accustomed to spices, I see.” Byakuya hums and begins to survey the store's offerings, whereas Jasmine is mentally preparing her list for dessert

“Daddy?” Jasmine dials up the sweetness in her tone while Byakuya examines the various cuts of chicken on display

“Yes?” He hums

“Can we have a treat tonight?”

“What sort of treat?”

“A surprise treat. Please, Daddy?”

Byakuya pauses. He's no fan of sweets, and in general sugar is limited in the Kuchiki household

But she did say please

“Mm… I suppose.”

Byakuya doesn't meet your eyes when he and Jasmine return from the store with more ingredients for ice cream sundaes than dinner and breakfast combined

He is such a sucker, but he's happy to be played when he receives his banana split with a chocolate syrup drawing of his beloved Wakame Taishi from his darling daughter

Renji tries his best to be a strict father, but his determination wavers frequently. He wanted for many things as a child, and as a parent he doesn't wish to push that same feeling on his child as long as he's capable of providing a warm, loving home

Not to mention, that damn two year is old is just so cute it makes his heart melt at the mere sight of the toddler

“C’mon, honey, gotta get some soup for Mommy.” Renji murmurs as he carefully takes little Rin from his car seat, carrying him into the store on his hip

“Why?” is Rin’s favorite question right now, and Renji’s eye twitches a bit

“Because her tummy is upset.”

“Why?”

“... I don't know.”

“Why?”

“I don't know!”

“Why?”

Renji gently pinches his son's lips between his fingers. “Shhh… Quiet time.”

But of course, the moment he lets go, Rin is back at it again

“Why?”

“Because now Daddy has a headache.”

Rin, as gently as he can while simultaneously not managing much grace in the act, pats his father's sunglasses that sit atop his head

“All bedder?”

Renji's lip practically wobbles at the sweetness. “Yes, Daddy's all better. Thank you, sweetie.”

Rin rests his head against his father, playing with the Renji’s chain while he surveys all of the varieties of soup, Renji occasionally pulling the chain away from the baby's open mouth

Rin whines after his third attempt to eat the necklace, so Renji quickly grabs the first can of chicken noodle soup he sees and makes a dash for the checkout. No baby meltdowns in public, for the love of God

Renji gently bounces the baby, pleading softly with him to calm down. It's not working very well, however, and these damn checkout lines aren't moving at all!

Desperation wins and Renji's grabbing a lollipop before he knows it, tearing the wrapping off and popping the sucker into Rin’s teeny mouth

His plan to calm the baby works, and by the time he's actually able to check out and purchase the soup, the small pop is already gone and the tantrum is starting to blossom again

And just as Renji gets the baby strapped back into his carseat, he checks his phone to see a text you sent twenty minutes ago that practically sends his eyes popping out of his skull

Can you pick up a pregnancy test too?

He glances over at the toddler, and can practically see the boy as a big brother already

Even with a fussy baby in round two of the long lines, Renji's smile doesn't waver and he just kisses and coos at the hopefully soon-to-be big brother

Grimmjow is an interesting parent. Much like how every day with a four year old is a mystery, every day with Grimmjow is a deep dive into the unknown

So when sending the man and his mini-me to the grocery store, you're not quite sure what they're going to come home with. Hopefully it at least includes the items on the list, otherwise dinner is going to be very different from what you've planned

“Oi, keep up!” Grimm looks over his shoulder, the four year old having been distracted by a vending machine

“Want snack.”

“Too bad. Let's go.”

The toddler’s stare is a little too lead paint-y for Grimmjow's liking

“Zen.” Grimmjow looks on, unimpressed as he fishes a coin from his pocket. “Fine, brat. You win, you get a snack. I win, I get a snack.”

That gets the boy to smile, clapping his hands as he jumps in excitement

Grimmjow smirks. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

The coin is flipped off of Grimmjow's thumb and he catches it easily, Zen waiting with bated breath for the results. Does Daddy win or does he lose??

Grimm sucks his teeth, shaking his head and tucking the quarter back into his pocket. “Heads I win. Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

Zen pouts, watching his father slip a dollar into the vending machine and press the buttons for a honey bun. “Aw man…”

“C’mon.” Grimmjow opens up the snack, taking a big bite and grabbing the front of Zen’s coat, carrying him inside of the store like a handbag

The boy can't help but giggle as he looks up at his father; he loves air jail!

“You're in jail. Stop laughing, fuckin’ psycho.” Grimm shakes his son a bit, hiding his own laughter into the next bite of his honey bun. He's a hardass, but that baby's laugh is precious and melts him like ice cream on a sunny day

Heads turn at the way Grimmjow carries Zen, but Grimm is highly unbothered by such judgment. His kid is happy and healthy, and anyone that thinks otherwise can kiss his ass, for all he cares

“You got the list?” Grimm looks down at Zen, the boy fishing out the neatly-folded post-it note you lovingly tucked into his jacket pocket

Grimmjow perks a brow as he reads off the ingredients you've listed. “Say, kid—” he looks down at his son. “Whaddya say we ditch the list and get some pizza instead?”

Zen claps happily at the idea and Grimm grins menacingly, crushing up the grocery list and tossing it on the floor as he hoists his boy over his shoulder, stuffing the last bite of the honey bun in his baby's mouth whilst flipping off a scandalized woman at the checkouts

Growing up with two younger sisters was good for something after all, Ichigo thinks as he wrangles his twin girls through the parking lot with relative ease

The three year olds are stubborn and independent, having insisted they walk instead of having daddy carry them! But they still want to hold his hands, of course

why no he is not melting like a lava cake, why do you ask?

The girls gasp at the sight of a shopping cart with a racecar on the end that's the perfect size for two little ones!

“We don't even need a cart.” Ichigo deadpans, though it's in one ear and out the other as the babies pile into the little racecar, turning the steering wheels and beeping the (thankfully noiseless) horns

He feels like an idiot but as the dutiful father he is, Ichigo complies with his girls’ wishes and pushes the cart into the store

Chubby fingers point as little voices call out for candies and trinkets, and Ichigo's quick with each of his responses

“No.”

“I said no.”

“No ma'am!”

He's definitely cleaning their ears out when they get home, because clearly they can't hear him! Why else would they ask for things a million times over, hm?

“Daddy always say no.” Indigo pouts, her sister nodding in agreement. All they want is some candy!! Why is Daddy so mean?

Ichigo sighs in frustration as the aisle he needs to go down is absolutely packed, and he's stuck with this behemoth of a shopping cart. Settling it at the end of the aisle, he kneels down to make eye contact with the girls

“Stay put; I’ll be right back.”

Ichigo quickly rushes down the aisle, weaving between people to get to the pasta section

Now… If only he could remember what shape of pasta you told him to buy

Indigo and Imani look at each other, covering their mouths to hide their mischievous giggles

Those Push Pops they were eyeing are still nearby, and Daddy isn't!

As the tag team they are, Indigo and Imani spring into action, Indigo rushing to get the candy while Imani (who turns up the cuteness to a ten!) rushes down the aisle to her father

Ichigo frowns and picks up Imani, scolding her for leaving the cart

It isn't exactly effective, however, as the baby eyes and the cooing let her off the hook easily

When they get back to the cart after Ichigo remembers which pasta you've requested, he sets Imani back into the racecar

Indigo slips a blue Push Pop into her twin's hand, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial smile

They almost get away with it too, though when Ichigo's strapping them into their car seats he notices the lollipops

“Stop stealing!!!!”

These girls will surely be the reason he takes medication for his blood pressure, and he dreads the day when they become teenagers!

#kensei muguruma x you #kensei muguruma x reader #byakuya kuchiki x reader #byakuya kuchiki x you #renji abarai x reader #renji abarai x you #grimmjow x you #grimmjow x reader #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki x you #bleach imagine #bleach headcanons #x reader #reader insert #bleach fluff

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devildom-moss · 3 months

Text

January poll story

NSFW - Barbatos x MC - Nightbringer AU + monsterfucker + breeding + ovipositor kink

(Barbatos x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (plot heavy) (dom!top!Barbatos / bottom!sub!MC) (monsterfucker; breeding; ovipos/eggs; slight degredation and humiliation; but mostly praise; oral - receiving; penetration - receiving; two dicks; aphrodisiac-like effects; overstimulation; slight dacryphillia/tears; slight dubcon at the beginning; cheating adjacent?; mentions of aftercare) (no body specification for MC, and yes I made it work so he can breed any body) (Barbatos as Nightbringer + AU) (kinda fucked up plot)

Word Count: +5,000 (new longest single character fic. Sorry? Why does this happen when I write monster Barbs)

A bittersweet pang struck your chest when you received an invitation to the Demon Lord’s castle directly from Barbatos. Even the way he had phrased the invite was reminiscent of future Barbatos – the demon who adored you. When you were sent back to the past, your relationship began anew, and you were forced to face him while craving the loving affection you had worked so hard to earn. Deep in the pit of your stomach, a nagging guilt bit at you every time you were around this past Barbatos, wishing for an unbecomingly familiar show of affection. You knew you would return to the future someday, and you were certain you wouldn’t be able to make him fall in love with you before you left. Was it so awful to want him to pull you into a quiet hall and kiss you to breathlessness before returning to his duties? Were you really as monstrous as your guilt believed for wishing this version of Barbatos would need you so desperately that he milked every second he could spare just to sate his desire for you?

All the lust and love that you had quelled came back, overflowing, when your D.D.D. buzzed last night while you were preparing dinner. Solomon had been so kind as to leave the kitchen and allow you to cook in peace. Barbatos’s name, accompanied affectionately – and delusionally – by a green heart, appeared on the screen.

Barbatos: Good evening, MC. I was wondering if you would do me the honor of visiting the castle tomorrow. The Young Master is set to attend an overnight party hosted by the House of Lords. I was not permitted to accompany him this time. He’ll be gone for nearly three days with the travel. It’s been ages since I’ve been apart from him for so long. The thought of it makes me anxious. Your presence seems to put me at ease. As such, I would appreciate your company if you could spare some time for me. I eagerly await your response.

Your heart swelled as you stared down at your phone. He wanted to see you. It almost sounded romantic. Your gushing was interrupted by the hiss of evaporating liquid; your pot boiled over.

“Shit!” You shoved your phone into your pocket and rushed to the stove. Everything was fine, but you sighed at the mess you were going to have to clean – and you couldn’t do that until you changed burners and allowed the dirty one to cool.

It wasn’t until you had finished cooking and went to message Solomon that dinner was ready, unlocking your D.D.D. only to see your chat with Barbatos, that you remembered: you never replied! Solomon could wait the one minute it took for you to respond to Barbatos.

MC: Sorry! I had some kitchen trouble, but it’s fine now. I would love to see you.

Barbatos: Excellent. I will see the Young Master off at 7am. You are welcome to come by any time after that. I look forward to it.

You arrived at the castle that afternoon, anxiously wondering how you would interact with Barbatos. You hadn’t spent much time alone with him, and you weren’t as close as you were in the future. Maybe this version of Barbatos was slightly different than the one you knew, and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, but to him, you were practically a stranger. Every intimate detail you had shared was resting in his mind, millennia from now. Still, you wanted to be around him, so you were determined to find some way to enjoy your day. Maybe you could bake together like old – well, future – times.

“Good afternoon. I’m so pleased you could make it,” Barbatos greeted you at the door with a grin, stepping aside to let you in. “I apologize for the late notice. I didn’t interrupt any plans, did I?”

“Not at all. My day was clear – and even if it wasn’t I –” you stopped yourself short. You wanted to tell him that you would have cleared it just for him, but that seemed far too intimate for your current relationship.

“If it wasn’t?” Barbatos urged you to continue.

“I –” you tried again, “It isn’t often that I get invited to the castle. I would have made the time.”

“How kind of you.” Barbatos chuckled, covering his smile in that shy manner you had come to adore. “Would you be so kind as to follow me as I finish up my rounds? I’d like to ensure everything is in order before I can devote my full attention to you.”

His words made your heart race, reviving some long-deceased hope that he would fall for you in this timeline. Perhaps the future had a much stronger impact on the past than you expected it to. Your face felt warm as you nodded.

Barbatos walked along side you at a leisurely pace, only taking a step ahead to guide you in one direction or the other and to open doors for you. He maintained polite chatter, mostly asking about your week. You hadn’t been walking very long before you realized you were heading deeper into the castle – namely towards the labyrinth. Even in the future, you rarely went near it, so as you got closer, the castle looked increasingly unfamiliar. You wondered if the rumors about the torture chamber below the castle had formed already or if those claims would come later. It felt eerie to head towards them now, but you figured it was part of Barbatos’s duty to check them during his rounds.

You continued through dark, stony halls – lit only by the dim candlelight from the sconces lining the walls. It seemed that the flames gradually appeared as you walked ahead. Had you bothered to look back, you would have also seen them fade behind you, leaving the dim corridor in pitch-black darkness. The creepy atmosphere was getting to you, and you inched closer to Barbatos. His smile widened slightly, but he didn’t comment.

“Do you go down here every day?” you asked him nervously.

“No, not usually, but I haven’t checked the labyrinth in a while. It’s necessary to monitor the candle levels and keep an eye out for leaks or potential . . . pests. I figured now was as good of a time as any. It can be a boring walk by myself.”

A large iron door stood at the end of the hall – one which seemed to require magic from Barbatos before it would open. He ushered you into a room, lined with iron-barred cells. As he shut the door behind him, you scanned your surroundings. There were no other visible doors – no clear point of exit. You turned back to look at Barbatos, confused.

“Why did you close the door?”

Before you could get an answer, Barbatos pushed you against the cool stone wall, holding you still from behind. One gloved hand grabbed your wrist while the other snaked up your neck seductively. The sensation reminded you of when Barbatos would get desperate for your body – how his greed would take over until his hands were wandering over you like some horrifying colonial effort, ready to claim you no matter the cost. Had you not loved him, or he not loved you, that greed might have terrified you.

“I know why you’re here,” Barbatos whispered in your ear.

You were confused and suddenly afraid. The realization hit you again: this was not your Barbatos. He might be suspicious of you, and that made him dangerous. Although you had seemingly gotten along well with him so far, especially during the preparations for RAD’s opening, there was a chance that he harbored doubts about your presence in the Devildom. This version of Barbatos could kill you.

“Please,” you whispered, afraid – although you weren’t certain what you were asking of him. He shifted into his demon form, still holding you firm in his hands. His breath burned on your neck. Your fear eased as you felt his tail slither up one of your legs and caress between them, leaving a slick trail over your clothes, but the confusion remained.

Did he want you? If so, he was so much harder to charm in the future. Was this what you had been hoping for? He was rougher than the Barbatos you knew – that much was evident in the tight grip he had around your wrist.

“We’ve met in the future, darling. And from what I’ve deduced, you’re so important to me that you could make me want for more,” Barbatos spoke, letting the words tingle on your skin. You shivered and turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. His hand slid away from your neck, and he bit his glove, tugging it off before discarding it on the cobblestone floor. That warm, bare hand slipped under your shirt, feeling your heart pound in your chest as his tail continued to tease you through your clothes. With a chuckle, Barbatos licked up your neck, flicking your earlobe with his tongue before pulling away. It felt hotter than usual, and your skin burned where his saliva began to dry. You moaned, earning a satisfied hum from Barbatos. “It feels good, doesn’t it? He gave us a century before my decision – how generous. It seems I learned to calm my urges a good deal over the years, but he forgets himself – myself,that is. I’m not the patient man you know. I don’t need a century to decide to claim you.”

“I don’t understand,” you spoke through gritted teeth, trying to hold back your moans. Nothing he said made sense, and it took every bit of restraint to focus on him instead of the pleasure he inflicted upon you.

“About a century from now, I secretly cemented my commitment to Lord Diavolo. I made it so nothing in the world could take my attention from my master. It seems that you, my dear, have convinced me that was a misstep. You see, a century after the brothers fell, I learned a spell that could permanently sterilize anyone – even a being as powerful as myself,” Barbatos explained, still unnecessarily close to your ear. “I wanted my service to Diavolo to guide the rest of my life, but then I met you. The Barbatos you know couldn’t let that stand. He wants to make you his in every way possible.”

“Wh-what are you saying?” Your words gave way to another moan as you tried to unravel the information through a haze of lust. All you could understand was that Barbatos – the one you knew – loved you more than he anticipated, and that was, somehow, related to why this version of him was touching you, rubbing your thighs and between your legs with the perfect pressure.

“Nightbringer offered you ‘the path to happiness . . . a place that will bring you more joy than any other.’” The words sent a chill up your spine. How did he know the exact words Nightbringer had told you? Barbatos slid his hand down to your stomach and pulled you flush against his body until you could feel him, hard and pressing into you. Somehow his touch – which should have distressed you – put you at ease. The familiarity of his body was a comfort in the confounding fear. Barbatos kissed your neck so tenderly that tears welled in your eyes. “Your happiness is his, my dear.”

“Barbatos, please,” you begged sweetly – almost whimpering for him. This time you were certain: you were begging for his touch. As long as he kept touching you like this – the way your Barbatos might, you could handle whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You can call me by my other name: Nightbringer. I – the version of me you know – sent you here to push you towards a blissful life with him, where he has given you every part of himself. In other words, darling,” Barbatos brought his lips up to your ear, “I brought you here to breed you.”

Barbatos licked up your neck again. Every touch filled you with dizzying ecstasy. There was a familiarity in the way his lips and tongue teased you, how his fingertips grazed your skin, and the way his tail toyed with you; but you had never felt this good before. Something like guilt joined your pleasure to push fresh tears to the corners of your eyes. This was Barbatos – in another epoch; he was yours in a way, and somehow still not the demon you had fallen in love with. It seemed wrong that a version of him who had yet to fall for you would make you feel so much better than the one you knew – not that you had ever found sex with Barbatos lacking, but he felt like another demon entirely. You didn’t understand why you felt this way. Could your weeks of unresolved desire have made you this sensitive to his every touch? Your legs were already trembling.

As if he had read your mind, Barbatos added with a chuckle, “And as for why your body reacts so well for me: without the sterilization spell, my pheromones haven’t been slowly dulled over millennia.”

“You mean. . .” you wanted to finish your thought or at least sigh in relief, but all you could do was gasp and moan as his tail squeezed your thigh.

“I mean that my body can bring you more pleasure now than you have ever had. Poor MC, you had the misfortune of meeting me too late. But in this time, something as simple as a bit of my saliva can make you shake and whine like some desperate slut.” Barbatos relished the way you clenched your jaw and shut your eyes. You looked humiliated yet so aroused that the embarrassment almost didn’t matter. He snaked his hand back up your chest and neck. With a single, forceful finger, he tilted your jaw until you faced him and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss. His tongue teased you, leaving you breathless and panting. Your head spun and your mind went blank. When he finally pulled back, you followed his movements with a needy whimper. You wanted more. He smirked. “There. As cute as you look when you’re embarrassed, I’d much rather see that need burning in your eyes. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. He wanted this for you.”

There was a protest somewhere, drowning and gasping for air in your mind. This Barbatos had never seen you unravel at the edge of orgasm. He had never seen you blissed out. Hell. He had never even seen you in your underwear before. It was like having your first time with him all over again. You had every right to be embarrassed – especially when you were already in love with Barbatos. This version hardly knew you. You were at the mercy of a demon whose desire could never match yours; it was mortifying.

“And, my dear, if it’s any consolation,” he added, “my pheromones would have no effect if you were not such an arousing little human. I want this, too.”

Barbatos turned you around, pushing your back to the wall, and kneeled before you. His eyes were dark, and you couldn’t help but notice the pale pink blush on his cheeks as he pulled your clothes down and exposed you. He wrapped his tail around one of your ankles and pulled your leg over his shoulder.

“May I?” he asked with an obscene politeness, as if your chest wasn’t heaving and you weren’t a mess for him.

Your face burned as you nodded, too ashamed to speak the words – and too aroused to hold back your lecherous noises had you opened your mouth. With your permission, he brought his mouth to your entrance, licking you hungrily. His bare hand rubbed you gently – adding to the stimulation one slow stroke at a time – while his other hand dug into the flesh of your outer thigh. With a low growl, Barbatos plunged his tongue inside of you. He sounded so sexy. Everything burned, and all you could think to do was cover your mouth to dam the flood of moans as you came at the mercy of his tongue and hands.

Barbatos gave you a soft lick before pulling back and staring up at you. He was panting and flushed, and his eyes had a familiar amorous glint. “You’re reacting so cutely. I’ll admit, I was drawn to you before, but if you keep showing me those lewd faces, I’ll never want to let you go.”

His words warmed your pounding heart. Perhaps it was wrong, but if you could have found the strength to speak, you would have begged him not to let you go. Of course, you knew, that was your lust-drunk mind speaking, but you would have said it, nonetheless.

Barbatos let your leg go and reached up to take your arm, tugging you down and cushioning your fall as you straddled him. He shifted so that you were sitting in his lap. Your flustered face brought a grin to his lips and sent a wicked shiver up his spine.

“Take my shirt off,” he instructed. You stared at him, further embarrassed by the realization that you were the only one completely exposed. Barbatos waited for your compliance, but with an untrained patience, he sighed. “If you want me to fuck you, do it.”

Your fingers moved quickly to unbutton his collar, trembling and fumbling with the top button. Each button of his shirt and coat got easier. You could feel his heartbeat pounding through his clothes – and even more frustrating, you could feel him throbbing in his pants right between your legs.

“So good,” he praised you sweetly, staring at you with half-lidded eyes, once his clothes fell to the floor. “Pants now, darling.”

You went to unbutton his pants, grazing the bulge with your fingertips. Barbatos growled and rolled his hips up into you, making you whine.

“Careful,” he warned you playfully, tapping his fingers up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You bit your lip and tried to refocus your attention on the task at hand – or rather, under your hand. When you finally got his pants and underwear down, you ogled at a sight you had never seen before. Barbatos chuckled mischievously. “Oh dear, from the look on your face, it seems I forgot to mention something. That’s another side effect of the sterilization spell. His never comes out. Such a shame.”

You were speechless, staring at his two dicks beneath you. You had never seen the second, longer, thicker cock below the other. It was less human, too, and had the same shimmering glean – with the same teal lightning veins running along it – as his tail. Your mouth felt dry. Your lower lip was trembling.

“You seem to like what you see. No wonder I fell so hard for you,” Barbatos teased. He pulled you closer, guiding your body until he had aligned his first cock up with your hole. You felt him rub against you, smearing his precum on you. It sent a jolt of pleasure into you that spread out every which way through your body. Barbatos leaned in, sucking at the base of your neck, and riling you up even more. Your moans filled the room. This was agony – a beautiful, enticing torture. Content with his mark on your neck and your response, he pulled back just enough to whisper in your ear. “Now sit.”

Your legs shook as you lowered yourself on his first cock, feeling the second one rubbing against the curve of your ass. It felt so good that you were eager to take him all the way. Without him even asking, you started bouncing on his cock in slow, deep thrusts, savoring the way he filled you up. If your body had the strength, you would have been quicker. It wasn’t long before the pleasure was too much for you. You clung to his shoulders and tilted your head back in ecstasy.

“Barbatos,” you moaned his name as you came. Your legs gave out beneath you, and you fell flush against his lap, pushing him deep inside of you.

Barbatos clicked his tongue, “I suppose that was cruel of me to expect you to do all the work. Please allow me to help you.”

Wrapping his tail around your waist, Barbatos rolled you onto your back gently so that he was leaning over you. He pushed your legs up towards your chest as he bent down to kiss you. There was a sentimental sweetness to it that clouded your head further. Barbatos began to slowly rock his hips in and out of you. Every thrust had you whining against his lips. Even Barbatos found it difficult to hold in his voice, moaning into your mouth. He picked up his pace.

Suddenly, his tail’s grip around your waist tightened, and Barbatos began to move your body for you like you were his personal toy. You felt too good to be ashamed by it anymore as your moans mixed with the harsh slapping of skin. He twitched inside of you and broke the kiss to stare at you. The sight of your writhing beneath him pushed Barbatos over the edge. He pulled you against his hips with one final slap before he filled you with cum.

It drove you mad; his cum felt like an aphrodisiac pumped directly into you, leaving you trembling and whining. Barbatos gave you a soft, tender smile as he pulled out. His cum began to leak out of you, but Barbatos used his tail to lift your hips higher so he could lick it up, allowing it to pool on his tongue. He pulled you close enough to kiss you and slip his cum-coated tongue into your mouth; it was a shame to waste it, after all. You swallowed, feeling the warmth flush your face and spread through your body. Desperation flooded the pit of your stomach – aching for a break and for more simultaneously.

Barbatos admired the look on your face. He had never seen you lose control like this before. To say he was enamored would have been an understatement. Cool fingertips slid down from the base of your neck to just above your navel – as if he was trying to feel the way your body tensed with the threat of another orgasm. You moaned and begged through ragged panting, “Please, Barbatos. I can’t. I can’t take anymore.”

“Oh?” Barbatos asked, amused. He used his tail to flip you over so that your chest was pressed against the stone floor. His tail loosened its grip around your waist, only to take hold of your hips and raise your ass higher. Barbatos laughed with a darkness that struck you with fear, especially when he bent over to lick behind your ear. He could feel you shiver against his chest, which only excited him further. He cooed, “But we’re not done yet, darling. That was just preparation, I’m afraid. I told you I was going to breed you, didn’t I? Have you forgotten? I’m part serpent; I still need to fill you with my eggs. I need you to be good and take a bit more for me.”

“Eggs?” The word caught your ear. Did everything with him have to be so new?

“Yes, you heard me.” Barbatos curled his tail around your thigh and pulled your legs farther apart. He rubbed you sweetly while he continued to explain, “You see, not only does my sperm fill you with ecstasy, but it also prepares your body so that my eggs can absorb your DNA through their membranes. It’ll take parts from both of us – we’ll make a hybrid.”

Even through your exhausted, cum-drunk fog, you tried to break down his words. You could really have a baby with him? The thought had never seriously crossed your mind – you had always assumed it wasn’t possible. You’d never heard of a hybrid before. Something about the thought of having children with Barbatos frightened and thrilled you all at once.

“You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll do all the work. You just have to lay there and take it, alright, darling?” Barbatos whispered into your ear as he aligned his second cock with your hole.

His first thrust was slow and tender. You squirmed and stretched your arms out in front of you, grasping for something to anchor you. All you could do was claw at cobblestone as pleasure pushed you to tears. He was so big. It might have hurt if your body wasn’t overcome with a euphoria that numbed every other sensation. He could have clawed your thighs apart and made you bleed, and you were certain you wouldn’t have felt so much as a sting. Barbatos picked up his pace, pushing you over the edge again. You tightened around him, causing him to groan.

“You feel so good,” Barbatos panted and moaned in a ubiquitous tone. You were unravelling him. He throbbed inside of you. With another pleased groan and a few more bucks of his hips, you were filled with a new sensation. As Barbatos pulled out, an egg pumped into you. Your pleasure at the feeling almost sickened you. Why did he have to make you feel so good?

“Barbatos –” Your thoughts were interrupted by a wave of pleasure as Barbatos rubbed his second dick against your entrance again.

“Not yet,” he panted. Barbatos leaned in to capture your lips in a feverish kiss. Slowly, you felt him thrust back inside of you, pushing the egg deeper. It pressed against your walls, clouding your head. When Barbatos broke the kiss, he laughed sweetly – almost innocently in your ear. “Wouldn’t twins be cute, my love?”

“I –” you tried to form the words: you were going to cum again. But Barbatos hushed you affectionately.

“They’re soft-shelled eggs, you can clench as much as you want, and I can pound into you as rough as I want, it’ll be fine. Don’t think. Just cum for me.” You couldn’t tell if you hated him or loved him for being able to read your mind. When it was your Barbatos, you had always loved it – even when he flustered you. You let go and let another wave of pleasure overcome you with a loud moan; you were going to drown in this feeling. Barbatos’s adoring voice broke through your afterglow. “You sound so lovely when I make you cum.”

Barbatos drew noise after noise from your lips as he continued to fuck you. One of his hands slipped between your legs to rub you as he filled you with another egg. He didn’t pull out until he felt you clenching down on him, on the cusp of another orgasm.

“Don’t fight it,” he whispered. Barbatos continued to rub you with his hand and slipped the tip of his tail inside of you, swirling the forked ends.

The faint glow of magic – more specifically, a summoning spell – lit up your dim corner of the room. Barbatos produced a plug. He removed his tail before pushing it inside of you. As he rubbed a gentle circle around the surface of the plug, it glowed, lighting up the palm of his hand in a pale teal color.

“Why?” you forced the ill-formed question out weakly.

Barbatos crawled around your shaking body so he could look at your face. Tears streamed down your cheeks from a mix of pleasure and panic. He brushed a stream of tears away with his thumb. “Don’t be afraid. I needed to magically seal you up until my eggs have had a chance to soak up your essence. They should be fertilized within two days. Then, we can take them out. They can mature in any warm environment after that until they’re ready to hatch. I’ll take good care of them, darling, and I’ll take good care of you, too.”

The tears continued to flow. With his help, you got to your knees. Barbatos took advantage of your position to lean in and kiss you. This kiss was more tender than before, as if it had been filled with all the affection of your beloved Barbatos. His fingertips ran up your arms and shoulders, causing you to shiver. Everything felt new and terrifying; every touch consumed you.

“Relax, my love. I’ll take such good care of you,” Barbatos cooed and kissed your cheek before standing up. He began to gather his clothes and redress himself. It didn’t escape your unfocused attention that he was still hard as he pulled his underwear on. While he got dressed, he asked you, “Now, will you be good and let me carry you up to my room? Or do I have to keep you locked up down here until you’re ready to return to the demon who sent you here? And before you answer, just know, I would much rather run you a bath, wash every inch of that precious body, serve you something delicious to eat, and spend the rest of our time alone serving you in other ways.”

You were afraid to be left alone, still hazy, and weak from pleasure. Desperate for comfort from the demon you loved, you nodded and took Barbatos’s extended hand. He pulled you into his arms and embraced your naked body tightly. His touch still burned and excited you. He whispered into the crook of your neck, “Thank you. He – the future me – requested that I thank you for giving us this gift, but I want to thank you on my behalf as well. I’ll be so good to you. I swear it �� and you know I do not take promises lightly.”

“I know,” you whispered. Your arms reached up to hold him back. Even if the Barbatos you adored could be wicked and cruel sometimes – even if all you had in this time was a crude likeness that had bred you, the love coursed through your body. This was alright. You could handle this if it was for him. His happiness was yours.

A/N: I tried really hard on this one, so I hope y'all like it. I still don't know how I feel about it. I've never written ovipos before. Also, would you say it warranted an 8 in the depravity ranking after reading it? Anyway, there will be a new poll for February up in less than an hour (Feb. 1 - 12am PST) That will be up for a week. Have fun. And again, hope this did something for y'all.

#moss poll fic #gn!mc #spice tier #barbatos #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #barbatos smut

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dsiiress · 3 months

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DRIFTS

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

this is an original work and was written and published by @dsiires on tumblr. this is my work, do not steal.

cw!!- fushiguro toji x f!reader, streetracing au, hate sex, light degradation, pet names, cunnilingus, piv, car sex (in a way?), slight exhibitionism, squirting, edging, toji being an ass (not surprisingly), cumeating, mdni, 3.5k words!

Every since your youth, you knew racing was your calling. Whenever your father would take you to car meets, the loud music and engines revving were never something you could shy away from. It drew you in, influencing your adolescent mind. Your mother absolutely hated the idea of her only daughter engaging in such masculine activities, saying that “no girl could become a racer, let alone a street racer at that!” But even then, her discouraging words left no effect on you, only driving your will to prove her wrong..

“Hey, there she is! Where were you, we almost started without you..” an annoyingly familiar voice faded into your ears as you hopped out of your car. The white haired male strutted up behind you and gave you a tight hug. Gojo Satoru, your childhood best friend, and your number one supporter since you started racing. He was there for you when no one else was, so even though he could be considered the most annoying specimen on earth, he wasn’t always that bad. His strong cologne abused your nose (he sprayed A LOT) as you successfully managed to pull away.

“Oh please, like you’d really start without me. Real funny, Satoru!” You playfully smacked his shoulder. He winced, then flashed a cheesy grin to show he was alright. It was a Friday night, and the sun had just finished setting on the horizon. There were a ton of people who had shown up tonight, mostly racers from other districts. You were no professional (yet), but your racing was top-notch. Almost every race you participated in, you had won. And not just that, you were exceptionally beautiful as well, which drew people in even more. Being talented and attractive made you gain popularity quickly, you were practically a micro celebrity.

“Angel come on, me and Suguru have some news for you!” Gojo urged you, dragging you to the warehouse. Angel. That’s what your nickname was. Well, around here atleast.

You entered the warehouse, the smell of marijuana, alcohol and oil wafting around. You spotted Suguru Geto, sitting at one of the vacant tables and chatting with one of his colleagues. He glanced at you and flagged you down with his hand, grinning.

“Yo, angel. It’s been a while, how you been?” His deep voice spoke unto you. His dark half-lidded eyes stared you up and down, examining your body.

“I’ve been well, and you?”

“Good. Missed you..” The dark haired male replied slyly. Getos arms were decorated with tattoos, his most recent dragon tattoo sticking out the most. You could make out another on his neck, but it was quite a challenge to figure out what it was.

“I know you did..” You said, rolling your eyes at his remark. It was true, even though you and Geto were mutual friends through Satoru, you barely saw each other. Which to you, wasn’t a problem. But for Suguru, it was. He had intensively strong feelings for you, admiring you since he first laid eyes on you. But unfortunately for him, everyone else could see it but you.

“SORRY.. to interrupt your flirting, but I thought we were supposed to tell her about tonight..” Satoru advised impatiently. “He’s right, my apologies angel. Instead of racing one of the locals, you’ve been challenged by one of Tokyo's best streetracers..”

“..Toji Fushiguro.”

Your eyes widened, obviously taken aback. “The Toji Fushiguro?! As in, Japan’s finest? The ex-NASCAR driver?!” You gasped. The two men infront of you nodded, noticing your demeanor change, exchanging a quick look between one another. You were under pressure before, so this shouldve been a walk in the park. I mean, if he’s coming to challenge you, then that obviously means your work is atleast somewhat exceptional compared to himself. You calmed yourself down, not wanting to lose your composure.. “When is he coming?”

“Oh, he should be arriving…” Satoru took a quick glance at his phone, “Right now, actually!” He confirmed, and as if on cue, you could hear the crowd outside chanting. The music grew louder, and you could hear the revving of a car's engine. “Let’s go, you two. We haven’t got all night.” Suguru said as he beckoned you and Gojo to follow behind him outside. As soon as you stepped out, you saw him, leaning next to his car. It was a matte black Nissan Silvia S15, and it was the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Your mind fixated along every detail on his car, eyes glued to it.

“Like whatcha see, princess?” Toji spoke, his voice much deeper and huskier than Getos. You looked up at him, examining his tall, muscular figure. His muscles were bulging out of his sleeves, waist adorned with chiseled abs that were visible through his shirt. You turned your gaze upwards, his forest green eyes pooling into yours. His soft, pink, plump lips were curved into a smile, and his signature scar accessorized it. You felt your face get hot, which made Toji let out a chuckle.

“I’m messing with ya, love. I’m assuming youre the one they call ‘angel’?” He inquired. You nodded, a smile easing its way onto your face. “I can see why…Anyways, I saw what I’m assuming is your car? Sure is a beaut.” Toji said, nodding his head towards the direction of your vehicle. It was a cream white Nissan 180sx, decorated with stickers, and a custom license plate that said ‘ANG31’.

“Thanks.. so um, what brings you around here?” You asked, curiously. Part of you felt like Satoru & Suguru were messing with you, so you had to know if it was true. “Tsk, they say youre one of the best around these parts.. had to see it for myself.” He shrugged, gazing off into the crowd of people. They were chattering amongst one another, anxiousness filling the air as they awaited the competition between you two. The sharp, stinging, sound of the whistleblowing pierced your ears, signaling it was time to bring your vehicles to the starting line.

You slipped into your car, revving your engine, driving it up to the poorly red spray painted start line. Toji soon drove up next to you and rolled his window down. “You ready, princess?” He taunted.

“To beat your ass? Heh- hell yeah.”

“Nah….ready to lose.” He grinned confidently, rolling his window back up. You scoffed at his cockiness, rolling your eyes. You kept your eyes on the road ahead of you, waiting for the blonde haired woman to signal your start. Even with your car windows being shut, you could still hear the crowd behind the barricades, cheering the two of you on. It felt like a dream, racing against one of the most talented professional drivers in the world, and having a support system to cheer you on, even if you lost.

Your adrenaline surged, and you leaned forward in your car, eyes fixed on the starting line. Heart pounding in your chest, you revved the engine, feeling the rumble of power beneath yourself. The woman infront of you shot the starting gun, and you both were off.

With a burst of acceleration, you shot forward, leaving Fushiguro behind, ready to give it your all. You sped down the long road, Toji tailing behind you. It was dark and winding, but you knew the turns like the back of your hand, since you had been on this same road many times before. You leaned into each one, feeling the tires squeak against the pavement, the car flying over the bumps and potholes.

You glanced into your side-view mirror, not seeing your opponent’s headlights.

uh-oh.

You then heard the sound of a beeping car horn next to you. It was him. He signaled for you to roll down your window. You did, while simultaneously trying to earn your place back in the lead.

“You thought I’d let you go that easy, angel?” He jeered, laughing. “I’m not letting anyone, especially not some girl, take my place.” And with that, he sped away, blowing off smoke behind him. Banter wasn’t uncommon during races, but this one hit a little hard. You swore to yourself to not let your feelings take over while driving, but you couldnt take it. You slammed your foot on the gas as hard as you could, determined to prove him wrong. You tried to think of a way to distract him…but how? An idea popped into your head, and while it wasn’t the most appropriate, you were 95% sure it would work.

The competition was fierce, with neither driver wanting to give an inch. The two of you flew down the road, trading positions, trying to find an opening. But as you neared the finish line, you rolled your window down, pulling up next to Toji. “Hey! Like whatcha see?” You teased, while your opponent took a glance at you, a shocked expression now on his face. Sitting back down and rolling your window up once more, you accelerated off, leaving him in the dust.

Tojis mind went cloudy as he registered what just happened. You…flashed your tits at him?! What the hell was that about? He shook his head, returning back to reality. He continued racing, not realizing you were long gone ahead of him.

Bursting out of the alley, you crossed the finish line first. At first it was quiet, but the cheering and celebration surrounded you as you pulled up to a stop. Getting out of the car, Gojo and Geto greeted you in awe.

“You did it?! I mean, you did it! How? What? This is- This is crazy!” Satoru blabbered on while Suguru handed you some water. As you chugged it down, Tojis car soon pulled up behind you. Stepping out of his vehicle, he sneered while walking up to you. His face had a crude expression on it, glaring at you darkly. “Good job.” He quickly plastered on a fake smile for the camera while shaking your hand, having a deadly grip on it. “Thanks!” You smiled coyly, because even though his face looked like it despised you, the bulge in his pants surely didn’t.

——————————————————————————

Weeks had passed since the “event”, though it remained to be the talk of the town. Plenty of interviewers and news anchors and been knocking at your apartment door, asking, pleading, begging for you to let them in on your “technique.” The 15 minutes of fame felt nice, but soon was overbearing.

Surfing through the channels on television, your phone lit up, vibrating your familiar ringtone against the table. It came from an unknown number, which raised your suspicions. You put on your best “professional” voice and reluctantly picked up. “Hello, who’s this?”

“Don’t tell me ya forgot ‘bout me already, princess. Hm, you let the fame get to your pretty little head?” the gruff voice mocked, the familiarity of the voice revealed the mystery person’s identity. It was Toji.

“Oh Fushiguro, I didn’t recognize your voice at first, m’sorry..” you briefly apologized, relieved that it wasn’t yet another TV show host requesting your appearance. “Yer good, save the apologies for later. Speaking of later.. would you mind stopping by my place for a bit? ‘Been something I need to talk to ya about.” Great. Just when you thought you were escaping the interrogations.But instead of denying you surprisingly agreed, obviously speaking before you thought.

Which ultimately led you to standing on his doorstep anxiously. The exterior of his house was simple and plain, nothing too extravagant. The yard was well kept with a few neatly trimmed rose bushes decorating it. You knocked on the door, hearing a muffled voice reply, “Coming, hold on.” The door swung ajar, Tojis face meeting yours. There was a brief pause, a weird tenseness surrounding you two. “You gonna invite me in or what?” You implored.

He frowned, giving you a nasty look. He joined you on his porch, closing the door behind him. “Nah, don’t think I should. Especially not after that little stunt you pulled.” The tall man towered over you, scowling darkly. “You think you can just waltz into my house, after humiliating me? Making me lose, like some kind of fuckin amateur. Can’t even watch TV without seein some news reporter sayin I’m ‘outdated’.” Toji snarled. His once light green eyes were now tainted a sinful viridescent. He backed you into the wall, and grabbed your face with one of his big hands, making you look up at him. A small mewl escaped your lips in the process, making your face flush completely.

“Look at you, you like that? You like a big strong man bein rough with you?” Toji growled. Lowering your head, you went silent, avoiding eye contact with the man above you.

“Answer me, girl.” He grunted, forcing your doey eyes to look at him once more.

“Y-yes sir!” You blurted out embarrassingly, earning a grin from Toji. “You wearin a skirt and everything. What, you expected me to fuck you? Slut…” Toji kneeled beneath you and proceeded to lift up the skirt you had worn. “Tsk, no panties either? I was just joking

“W-what are you doing?! Someone could see…” you said uneasily. It was true, even though it was dark, the dim street lamps in front of his house illuminated the streets, and he was doing this on his front porch where any passerby could see.

“You humiliated me, so now it’s your turn. Think of this as my get back.” You felt a warm sensation on your cunt, the man’s mouth had latched onto your pussy. His tongue flicked and lapped at your flowing juices, surprised at how quickly you had gotten aroused. He grabbed onto your plush thighs, leaving a few bruises from how hard his grasp was on you. You cooed, his tongue felt otherworldly, circling the small sensitive bud of your clit.

He was so sloppy with it, lewd slurps filling the void of quietness outside as he lolled his tongue out, licking a long stripe down your pussy. You groaned, the immense pleasure making your legs jitter in excitement. Toji sucked and sucked away, like a child with a lollipop, trying to reach the gummy center. Your savory juices covered the man’s stubbly chin, the little prickles tickling your thighs. The band in your stomach tightened, signaling you were close to cumming.

“Ah- sir..m’close, I’m s’close..” you poorly managed to husk out as Tojis licks got more intense. He could tell, but where’s the fun in letting you cum now, when he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet? He’d make you wait, that’s much more amusing for him. Toji pulled away, leaving you confused and frustrated. He smiled smugly at your twisted expression, quite clearly amused at how much power he had over you in these moments. Abruptly, Toji lifted you up (like it was nothing) and threw you over his shoulder, your bare ass revealed to anyone who was close enough to see.

“Put me down! What are you doing?” You protested, squirming in the man’s arms. Toji smacked your behind, a stinging pain flowed through your body. “Shut yer mouth, yeah?” He uttered as he transported you to what looked like his garage. Without placing you down, he pressed a button, and a loud machinery noise followed, the garage door becoming ajar. He carried you towards his car, then promptly dropped you on your feet.

“Bend over.” He commanded. You looked around, confused. The only place you could lean on was…

“On the car.” Toji rolled his eyes and scoffed, similarly to a teenage girl. You did as he told, bending over as a chilly breeze brushed past your underside. Toji stood close behind you, his clothes crotch brushing against yours, lips close to your ears. “You feel that? Huh? Feel how hard y’makin me…” He purred into your ear as he grinded on your ass, groaning softly. You heard the small unzipping of his pants, shuffling and his breath hitching in your ear.

The foreign feeling of his tip brushed past your folds, pulsing right against the entrance of your hole. He slowly slid his inches inside of you, little by little. You winced in pain, he was so big you felt like you were going to split in two. Your jaw fell open as Toji broke through your walls, stretching you around him. Fat, salty, tears rolled down your cheeks uncontrollably as he continued to go deeper. “Damn, yer so tight, princess. You like how m’stretchin you out, it feels good?” He whispered into your ear, watching you struggle to take his length.

“Y-yeah, feels s’good Toji..” you cried from beneath him. The palm of his hand and your ass quickly met as the man snarled, “What did you call me?”

“S-sir! Feels good, sir…” you whined.

“That's more like it, good girl. Yeah, take all of my cock, like the whore you are” Toji smirked. He slowly started to move in and out of your entrance, panting from how hard you were clenching around him. He continued these slow strokes momentarily, then started to move faster. The sounds of each others skin slapping were all you could hear, and you were certain anyone who was near could hear you too. Tojis strokes were now rougher and meaner, his girthy member pounding deeper and deeper in you, stretching you out. The once pain was now an erotic pleasure as you felt the man bulging inside your sweet spot, his merciless rhythm making you cock-drunk. The pair of your moans mixed together to make a harmonious sound, Tojis deep grunts contrasting with your higher pitched cries.

You felt Tojis hands creep their way to your chest, lifting your shirt to reveal your bare tits. “Been missin these…” the man behind you said as he toyed with your breasts, flicking your nipples and tracing around them. A gasp left your mouth as he did so, his cold, rigid hands making you even more sensitive. Toji sucked on the nape of your neck while simultaneously playing with your tits, leaving slight purplish marks behind.

“What happened to all that talk? Did I fuck the thoughts outta ya, angel?” He asked, moving his hands to your hips to steady himself, letting your boobs bounce freely. All you could do was nod dumbly, making a chuckle slip from Tojis scar-ridden lips. The cocky girl who made him seem like a fool, made him lose in front of hundreds of people, was bending over and submitting to him at his will.

You felt the reoccurring, creeping, feeling of your high approaching, determined to reach it this time. Toji was close too, you could tell by his sloppier strokes and hitching breaths. “F-fuck, yer milkin’ me dry, princess..m’gonna cum..” he croaked out. “Me too, s-sir.”

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock, like the slut you are? Hm, princess?” He teased while his tip brushed back and forth against your g-spot, making you even more sensitive than before.

“Y-yes, please, please, please…” you pleaded mindlessly as you rode out your high, the sweet blissful feeling of your release gracing your body. Toji groaned as he thrusted once more, his essence exploding from his tip, stuffing your pussy to the brim with his heavy, creamy load. He leaned on your back as his chest heaved, warm breath tickling the back of your neck. Pulling out, Toji let out a loud groan, your legs shaking in the process from the removal of his member. “Fuck, you made such a mess f’me..” he remarked, gazing drunkily at the sight. “Let’s get you cleaned up..”

The familiar warm feeling of Tojis mouth found your sensitive clit. His tongue explored deep inside your hole, licking up the mess the two of you had made just a few minutes prior. The lewd sucking and slurping sounds rung in your ears as your legs stuttered, the heat of his tongue laving away at your taste. “Ya taste s’good with my cum inside you.” He said as he spread your cheeks wider, desperate and determined to clean up all of you, inside and out. One of his long thick fingers were soon inserted inside of your sloppiness, squelching as he curved deep inside, exploring you.

His tongue and finger felt like pure ecstasy, both messily maneuvering in and on your pussy. You felt your self getting close once again, but this time was different. It felt different from all of your previous orgasms. Tojis finger brushed along a particular spot one too many times, resulting in a clear liquidy essence to spurt from your cunt. You let out a harsh cry, the feeling making your legs quiver as you almost fell on your knees to the ground.

“First time squirtin’, hm princess?” Toji allured, wiping his mouth from the dirty mess you made. You had squirted?! You nodded drowsily, all the energy you had before obviously drained from you. The man behind you stood up and steadied you, seeing how weak you had become just from his actions. He held you in quietness, for a brief minute until you broke the silence.

“Toji…y’know how you told me earlier, on the phone, you needed to ask me somethin’?”

“Yeah?”

“W-what was it?”

“Oh, I..”

He was quickly cut off by the sound of bushes rustling, and the two of you watched in horror as you saw an all black figure jogging away from their hiding spot, which was a bush not too far from the garage. Someone was eavesdropping on the two of you the whole time.

“W-We’re fucked.” Your breath shaking in terror.

“No. You’re fucked.”

——————————————————————————

a/n- literally and figuratively LMAOOO. ANYWAYS this idea came to me in a dream, and can you tell i know little to nothing about streetracing be honest 🌝. also, i might make this into a series, can’t leave my lovelies on a cliffhanger. i hope you guys enjoyed this, it took me FOREVER. 🤧

xo, dsiires

#luvqupids #anime #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #smut #fanfic

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ivy-plays · 7 months

Note

Hello!

Since you write for Helluva Boss, I thought I could request something for it! It's just that this one is pretty specific so you don't have to write if you don't want to! It was just a fun little idea I had while I was watching a movie.

I was wondering if I could request for 'Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit like S/O' romantic headcanons?

Hi!!! I'm so glad you sent In a request. I immediately got ideas as soon as I read your request! I hope you like it and have a good rest of your day/ night!.

Warnings: none really. If I missed any let me know

Paring: Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit! Reader.

Relationship: romantic

Okay so starting off with how the two of you would have met.

You would honestly probably work out of the lust ring mostly because they just seem to have a higher quantity of singers and performers that fit the vibe.

Anyway

The two of you meet during the events of the episode where moxie takes Millie to Ozzy's.

You were performing that night and Blitzø couldn't help but not look away from you as the stage lights hit your red sequence dress just right creating an effect that made it seem you were glowing. That coupled with your sultry singing voice the man was hooked deep.

Blitzø had caught your eye while you were on stage as you noticed a goitcia prince sitting across from him.

That peaked your Interest. And throughout the rest of your set you observed the imp rather closely,and you would be a liar if you were to say he wasn't good looking.

After you are done with your set and made your way off stage and towards the bar Blitzø had managed to slip away from Stolas and made his way over to the bar and over to you.

When he introduced himself you turned your head ever so slightly to look at him and a soft smile graced your ruby red lips.

The two of you talked for a while until your stage manager came over and called you back stage to prepare for your next set.

You wave off your Manager with a promise to follow behind shortly.

Turning back to Blitzø you gently cupped the side of his face and leaned in promising to see him again while secretly slipping a slip of paper with your number on it into his jacket pocket.

It would be a few weeks later that the two of you would meet in person again. The two of you had been talking over the phone during that time just getting to know each other,but tonight the both of you were free so you were taking the opportunity to meet up.

The two of you would meet at a nice ( but not fancy. Just not dirty and has a good health score) restaurant.

The night went well and the both of you had lots of fun and that would end up being how the two of you got together.

Now for the actual relationship

Blitzø would be very protective of you.

Not because he didn't think you were weak by any means, but just because you were pretty famous across hell .

Whenever you weren't busy with practices or performances you would spend your time at I.M.P. .

You got on pretty well with Millie the two of you finding plenty of things to talk about. Moxie didn't mind you either and actually would be extremely reluctant to believe that Blitzø had managed to get such a famous and beautiful person to date him.

And as for you and Loona we'll. Loona took a bit to warm up to you but after you actually got her to have a conversation with you she realized you weren't as bad as she thought. Epically after you told the young hellhound that if she wanted she could get her into most parties/ higher class places without a reservation.

Blitzø didn't initially tell Stolaz about your relationship ( though he did tell you about the arrangement he had with the prince and was surprised that you didn't really mind).

And with how attached Stolaz is to Blitzø sometimes it wasn't long before he found out that the two of you were together.

He was upset at first but ultimately just wanted Blitzø to be happy. Stolaz of course knew who you were and had seen a few of your performances before.

(it's up to you to decide whether or not y'all become a thruple. But since it's not in the request I won't specify.)

Over all your relationship would be pretty solid. You would shower him in love and affection and he did the same to you.

And you already know the bedroom life is 🤌(y'all probably had a threesome with Stolaz a few times. 👀 )

You would use your connections to help I.M.P if they ever needed Intel,and you would spread the word about their business around which brought in a lot of New clients.

With how often you performed at Ozzy's you had formed a close friendship with the king of lust and his jester boyfriend.

So when the giant blue chicken burst into Ozzy's with a worried expression on his face you quickly grew confused.

Ozzy went on to pick you up and rushed back out the doors and back to his palace, and while on the way he explained to you that Vizz and Blitzø had been kidnapped by Crimson and Striker.

(everything that happened in the episode happens and after Vizz returned to Ozzy, you and Stolaz left the palace and you ,as fast as you could, made your way back to your shared apartment.

When you saw Blitzø you immediately brought him into your arms and buried your face in his neck as a few stray tears slid down your face from the relief of him being safe and back home.

After Blitzø recovered from momentary shock he firmly wrapped his own arms around you , resting his head atop your head.

The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled together.

I hoped you liked it! It got a little longer and a little more rambling than I meant it to lol. But it's my first time writing In a few months. So the word vomit is real .

#helluva boss ozzie #helluva boss #blitzo x reader #blitzø #striker #moxie #helluva millie #millie x moxxie #x gn reader #fanfics #request #fizzaroli x reader

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goldeunoias · 1 year

Text

Plush.

A/N: Hi i wrote this in one sitting what is wrong with me. Not particularly proof read adsfasdfa but Dilf! Sunghoon will be

WC: 1.6k i think?

Executive! Reader x Silver Spoon! Jake

Chubby! Reader x Jake

Warnings: well. oral, teasing, lots of teasing, this like i mean you’re here and you know how i am,

Jake had been working under you for some time. Granted, he’d only gotten this position because his dad was an executive, but you were thankful that you’d still retained your position nonetheless.

It was no secret that he could be a bit entitled towards his own juniors and coworkers about certain things, the negative side effect of being born with a silver spoon in his mouth. However, when it came to you he seemed to always pay “special attention” to you: standing extra close to you when talking to you about work, making points to complement the perfume you wore and other things that should have had him reported to Human Resources.

He knew that as well as anyone, and so did you, but for some reason you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. The remarks were sincere and never creepy, almost as if he’d spent his entire life sweet-talking his way through everything.

“Princess, can we talk in your office after your meeting? It’s important,” Jake whispered in your ear, the new nickname making your body heat up. You simply nodded and rambled out to just wait there until you got out, wondering how you were going to be able to pay attention during an hour-long meeting.

When the meeting let out you quickly shuffled to your personal office, opening the door and setting the files down in the front entrance.

“You probably should lock the door so that annoying secretary doesn’t barge in,” Jake excused, his suit jacket already off and thrown on the couch he was sitting in. You did so and when you turned around you found Jake making strikes towards you, his hand playing with the hem of your skirt.

It was the first time he’d ever been this bold and your breath hitched for a second, heart racing in your ears.

“Princess done for the day?”

“I have another meeting at four,” you told him, letting him drag you further into your office. “Is uh, everything okay? Your dad didn’t say anything to me about having a meeting,” you rambled out, your head dizzy as he caged you against the wall.

“Does my dad know how you dress when you go to work?” Jake hissed between heavy breaths, undoing his tie and rolling up his sleeves.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head no, back pressed against the cool wall as he finally had you trapped.

“No but that doesn’t concern you since I am your superior, and I think you’re way out of l-line”, you panted out as Jake lifted up the skirt that perhaps hugged your thighs tighter than you’d last remembered.

“Well if I’m on my knees for you you’re still above me no?” Jake cheekily cooed out, spreading your legs and messily kissing your soft thighs. He tugged at the extra padding on your inner thighs and you yelped, jumping when you felt Jake’s teeth across the supple skin.

“Did you gain weight princess? This skirt is tighter than the last time you wore it,” Jake observed as he pulled down your stockings, massaging the skin with his hands.

You shyly looked away and nodded, Jake chuckling and licking a stripe over your clothed core. He watched pleasantly as you shuddered, brows furrowing as you tried to quiet yourself.

“Good, means my dad is paying you well. Makes you look cute.”

“Cute?” You inquired, your eyes following him as he stood up and unbuttoned your shirt which was also a bit tighter than you remembered. You’d never had anyone really tell you the extra plush on your body was cute, they mostly just made the remark to make you hyperconscious of yourself.

“Mmm, you look fucking adorable princess. Tits are practically spilling out of your bra,” Jake groaned, lifting it up so your chest was open and bare for him. Your body melted into his as the heat of his mouth took a bud and sucked harshly, his other hand harshly tugging at the other hardened nipple.

“You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you? Why else would you wear something so fucking sexy,” Jake praised you as he messily kissed your chest, your chest glistening from his saliva.

“I don’t-” you let out a whine as Jake sunk to his knees again, lifting one of your legs and hoisting it on his shoulder.

“You don’t? But you’re pussy is glistening right now, you’re wet like a virgin…” he couldn’t help but note, pulling down your underwear and gathering the slick that had leaked onto the cloth.

“J-jake if your dad or someone comes knocking in-” You covered your mouth as Jake’s mouth enveloped your swollen clit, your legs struggling to support you. Your hands grabbed his hair and reflexively pushed him against your core, your hips grinding into his mouth.

Jake pulled back for a second to get some air and smiled at how disheveled you looked from his angle, one of his hands going up to roll an aroused bud between his fingers.

“Princess your pussy is so warm inside my tongue is practically melting inside of you,” Jake cooed, his other hand gathering syrupy essence and sliding a digit in.

“Jake, oh god~” you choked out as you felt a knot form in your belly, feeling embarrassed at how quickly you felt like you were about to come.

“Fuck baby it’s been some time since someone’s touched you properly huh? You’re already clenching down on me so tightly,” Jake teased, both of you guys’ eyes flickering over to the door when you heard knocking.

“Ma’am? I have some papers that were sent over from Mr. Johnson that he wanted you to look at,” your secretary remarked from the other side, your eyes pleading with Jake as he smirked and messily licked your core, sliding another digit inside you.

Your head rested against the wall and bit down on your lip to restrain a groan, Jake suddenly moving you so your tummy and forearms rested on the edge of the sofa and his head was between your thighs.

“You can leave them on the table outside Ms. Laudy, I am currently-” you scrunched your face as he curled his fingers, “...writing something, and I don’t want to lose my train of thought,” you lied, your back arching as you felt yourself get close.

“Oh, well if you want I could come inside and debrief you over them to save time,” she offered up.

“That won’t be-” You covered your mouth with both of your hands to muffle the scream as the knot broke, your legs shaking around his head.

“Ma’am?”

“Don’t worry about I will get to it so just leave them on the table outside,” you rushed out, your head resting on the sofa as you heard him unzip his pants.

“Jake wait if you just go in I-I don’t think it will fit,” you rushed out, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Jake didn’t let you turn around for long and faced your head forward, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them behind your back with one of his.

“I’m flattered princess. Don’t think I will be able to fit?”

You avidly shook your head and whined, feeling your heart race against your ribcage. Jake leaned over your form and pressed a condom to your lips to rip the sealing, a “good girl” leaving him when you did so and he wrapped it around his member.

“Should I stop then princess if you’re scared it’s not gonna fit? Or are you just struggling for show,” Jake cooed in your ear, rubbing his member against your slit. You let out a choked groan and Jake nipped at your ear, getting impatient.

“Answer princess you have a meeting at four remember?”

You gulped and nodded, Jake pinching your folds at your lack of verbiage.

“Can’t do anything if you don’t speak.”

“J-just be gentle...it’s been a while” you murmured out, your jaw going slack when you felt his tip push past your walls.

Jake chuckled and kissed your neck, groaning until his hip bones were pressed against the underside of your thighs.

“See, it fit no problem cupcake. Pussy is drenched though, you’re gonna leak onto my slacks at this rate,” Jake panted out, pulling out some to see what a mess you’d made around his member.

“Jake my arms hurt can you ease up your grip,” you whined out, Jake gently releasing them and instead massaging the flesh on your hips.

“Of course princess, I’d never want to hurt you,” he cooed, watching in delight as you tightly gripped the sofa, Jake cooing at you to raise your head.

“Careful cupcake wouldn’t want to ruin your makeup now would ya?” he tsked, slowly moving his hips inside and giving a half smile when you whined in pleasure.

“After all, don’t want to show up to your meeting looking like you just got fucked like a slut right?”

“N-no.”

Jake licked his lips and pulled your hips against him, watching as your legs shook and you let out a muffled groan into the pillows.

“Thought so.”

********************************************

A/N: Let me know if this was you because this damn sure is me

#enhypen imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen scenarios #jake smut #jake hard thoughts #enhyen hard hours

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earthpleasures · 11 days

Text

FAVORITE !

Harry Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Your friends joked about how much of a 'Teacher's Pet' you're. You brushed them off and laughed because it meant nothing. However, when Mr. Potter became your DADA professor in your last year, it meant something.

Warnings: MDNI +18 / swearing, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, sir kink (is that even a kink?), impact play, degradation, praise, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, creampie, age-gap (reader is 20, harry is 28), hair pulling, darkish!harry.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: to clarify, hogwarts sets in between age of 14-20. I don't wanna throw reader into a full grown man when she's barely an adult. Harry and Ginny are divorced. Because my girl Ginny doesn't deserve to be cheated on. I think no matter how toxic Harry would get, he wouldn't cheat on his partner. AND PLEASE DON'T FLIRT WITH YOUR TEACHERS IN REAL LIFE!

dividers by: @benkeibear

"darlin', can I be your favorite?

i'll be your girl, let you taste it"

- favorite by isabel larosa.

Y/n've always been a bit of a little teacher's pet. Never running to classes late, submitting her homework on time, sometimes even before time, helping professors carry their heavy books. It was a demeanor many of the teachers appreciated. And made her friends laugh; they found it hilarious how she was able to keep up with all of the schoolwork and social interactions with teachers.

Through the six years, she didn't care about all the jokes had been made about her behavior or the implications of a special bond with any of her professors by some of the jealous students. It was easier to let them be delusional and run their stupid minds than trying to fix their mistakes.

However, the seventh year was the year she began to hush the accusations. Because the possibility of accusations reflecting reality scared her.

And now, the sole source of her fears and lust was in front of the board, scratching something she didn't pay attention to at all.

Professor Potter was a danger to her reputation and view of classes.

When she heard rumors that Harry Potter, The Chosen One, would be teaching DADA classes after the departure of their former professor, she was enthusiastic. He fought against the dark himself, Lord Voldemort. Who would be better than him to teach about this class?

Mr Potter's first lesson was quite shocking for her. Throughout the photos and conversations of other students, she knew he was handsome. But knowing was a thing; seeing with her own two eyes was another thing.

His green eyes always seemed to be excited, alive, and fresh. His approach to classes could be called effective, according to many of the students. First, they learned the theoretical aspects of a creature or curse, or hex. Then, they practiced in various ways such as breaking a curse on an object and facing the said creature in a safe environment if the creature is found.

He dropped the chalk in his hand to his desk with a soft sound and dusted the powder of his skin. A creature was drawn on the board; it wasn't the most perfect drawing ever, but it was definitely recognizable.

“Okay, class. I don't want to see any books open in front of you. Your homework was to study for the next lesson. Let's see who did their homework properly. What's this creature called?”

Before Y/n could even fathom the answer, a female student jumped to answer his question. “A banshee.” Harry smiled at the girl, nodding his head in agreement. “That's correct, Ms. Brown. This creature is called ‘Banshee’. Banshee is a creature mostly affiliated with dark arts.” He rolled up his cream color shirt's sleeves and crossed his arms over his chest, hips laid against the desk.

“It’s native to Ireland and has a zombie-like appearance. But what makes them lethal?” His green eyes scanned the classroom, waiting for an answer. This time, she managed to act before other students. “Fatal scream. Hearing them might and most likely will kill.”

“Exactly. My advice is that if you don't have anything to defend yourself against a banshee, well, at least make sure to cover your ears firmly and run. Then maybe you can survive.”

His statement caused a peal of light laughter in class, which made him sigh in amusement. Merlin, he missed being a student.

“And lastly, what can you use to defeat a banshee?” Whole classroom fell into silence, everyone, at least the students studied beforehand, researching their memories for the correct response. Harry straightened his back and took the chalk from the wooden desk. “No answer? It's-”

“Laughter potion.”

Y/n's rushed voice interrupted his definement, her face satisfied from remembering the potion. Harry's eyebrow arched involuntarily, signaling the girl to continue. With newfound confidence to speak, she cleared her throat and gave him the answer he wanted.

“For it to be perfectly effective, the person who makes the potion must follow the rules word by word. Ingredients are spring water, alihotsy leaves, billywig wings, knarl quills, puffskein hair, horseradish powder, and laughter. We should consume the liquid if we face a banshee.”

Harry was amazed at her knowledge and strength of memory. “All correct, Ms. S/n. Someone actually studied, huh?” Other students let out grunts and complaints, some of them talking about how she's been like this for years and they're not even surprised.

And the lesson went on. Her eyes had never been focused on what he writes on the blackboard, but on his hands. They moved elegantly, a few scars scratching them. Her mind wandered on dangerous waters. They would gently caress her flesh and leave their prints on her thighs while his nose rubbed against her clit. Teeth almost puncturing her lower lip, she pressed her thighs together. I must stop, he's my teacher.

“In the next lesson, I want you to bring your own laughter potions since we will directly interact with a banshee. I talked to your potions professor, she will be helping you with the materials. And that being said, class, dismissed. With his last words, everyone gathered their books, feathers, and inkwells.

Y/n took a deep breath as she threw everything into her bag in a hurry. Leaving the classroom as soon as possible would be in her favor.

“Y/n.” A sweet, velvety voice caused her to stop her tracks. She gulped the agitation which was coursing through her whole body down. “Yes, Mr. Potter?” His hands were buried in pockets of his dress pants, veins on his forearms discernable. He smiled at her, making her stomach do literal flips.

“I would like to see you in my office after dinner, if the time fits you?” She almost jumped in to answer straight. However, she succeeded in remaining calm. “It does, but why? Did I do something wrong?” She was proud of herself regarding the fact her tone didn't falter.

“No, nothing like that. I wanted to discuss why you are so distracted in my classes.”

Her reason was as obvious as a shining sun but as embarrassing as it was obvious.

“Oh, okay. I will be there, sir.” His sweet smile twitched for a second, turning into something more malicious when the word ‘sir’ left her pretty lips.

“Good, see you later.”

Dinner went incredibly slow for her, thoughts of being alone with Professor Potter in a secluded room consumed her mind relentlessly. When dinner finally came to an end, her fast moves caught her friends’ attention. “Why are you in such a hurry, Y/n?” One of the girls asked her with a giggle, as her best friend, of course she knew why she was in a hurry.

Girl scoffed at her friend's playful question. “I am not in a hurry, Mindy. I just don't find keeping teachers waiting right.” Mindy rolled her eyes as she stab her fork to a piece of meat. “Right. But well, if I had a chance to be alone with Mr. Potter; girl, I would sprint to his office for more time.”

“Mindy! That's so inappropriate!” Her reproach earned a good laugh from her friends. She sighed as her cheeks flushed with excitement. Try as might, she couldn't help but think the same things as Mindy.

Her steps were quick while walking in the halls of Hogwarts. If goddamn Peeves catches her, it would be known to the whole school by tomorrow that she went to his office.

Standing in front of the wooden, dark brown door, she straightened her back and knocked. The tired voice of Mr. Potter invited her in.

“Ah, Y/n. Just on time, as usual. Come on. Take a seat.” He said, his hand pointing to the soft sofa against the wall. She took slow steps and fixed her skirt while sitting down. His face was drowned in traces of a busy day.

“So, you do your homework perfectly and on time, never late to my class, answering questions asked to you. Although, all answers given are studied beforehand, not learned from me. But, Ms. S/n, your constant act of staring at me blankly while I teach is bugging me greatly. Is there anything you would like to discuss with me? Why are you never paying proper attention to my lessons?”

She wet her dry lips with her tongue, trying to form the right argument against his accusations. Heat was rising in room, at least that was what Y/n felt. Or maybe it was her wild imagination again.

“I… I am not distracted, professor. I love your lessons. I mean, I love defense against dark arts. I give all my attention to what you're teaching and-” His not-convinced face made her cut her ramble before she could execute it properly.

“You don't believe me, do you?” Question was eager, desperate for approval from him. “No, Ms. Y/n. I think I don't.” He pressed his palms against the desk, rising up from his chair and walking towards the nervous girl.

“There’re a lot of things you're not capable of confessing. The things I learned through my efforts. Tell me, darling, is it really appropriate to fantasize about your teacher in his own class? Or to imagine his hands on your thighs?”

The blood froze in her veins. How did he even..?

“Legilimency.” Realization hit her like a slap before light gasp fled from her. “Mr. Potter! Legilimency is forbidden in Hogwarts, excluding the lessons. Why would you-”

A harsh grip on her chin.

“Don't fucking change the subject, Y/n. It's not like I've been famous for following stupid rules of Hogwarts. Also, I think it's also forbidden to feel any romantic or sexual attachment to your professors.” Her lips began to tremble, tears pricking to corners of her eyes like needles.

“I am so sorry, sir. I won't do it again. Please don't report me to the headmaster.” A sadistic smile crept on his beautiful face, strange look of hunger evident in his green eyes. “Have no worries, darling. I have no intention of letting McGonagall know your little ravings. In fact, it makes me quite effusive. Ever since my first night with my ex-wife, I haven't felt such a lust for someone.”

Her breath hitched. This was wrong, so wrong for so many reasons. He was her teacher, he was older than her, they were at a school and on…

Knots of lust began to solve in her belly. “This is so wrong, sir. We shouldn't…”

She couldn't finish it. Temptation of tabus has always been delicious to devour. And she was fucking tired of being the perfect, golden student. If other students were so adamant about making fun of her determination to succeed, maybe she could let a little loss.

So, she bit her lip to surpass the urge to deny his gesture of kneeling in front of her. His hands were cold and strong, just like illusions of her mind. They gripped the supple flesh of her thighs and gently pulled them apart. His eyes looked up to her for consent, satisfied breath falling from his lips when she approved him.

“Fuck, look how wet you're for me.” He licked his lips, almost feeling taste of her on the skin of his lips. “Such a needy whore for her teacher.” His thumb ran over the damp fabric of her blue panties. “And lacy? Bet you planned everything before you came here.” She opened her mouth to protest, only to earn a harsh blow on her inner thigh. Pain and pleasure were delicious enough to make her involuntarily close her thighs.

His hard grip already bruising her flesh, he pushed them apart. “If you're gonna act like a fucking brat, I will leave you like a teacher would.” She shook her head, tears already spilling from her rosy cheeks. “No, no! Please, I will behave!” He smirked with approval. “Sure you will.”

He was tired of teasing her, aching to taste her. She raised her hips off the sofa to allow him to take off her panties. His hand groped her tit over the white student shirt, the other hand climbing up to her mouth. She parted her lips, taking two digits into her mouth. Tongue enveloping the cold fingers, she coated them in her saliva as he ordered without words.

Wet muscle lolled out of his parted lips, trailing through her folds to collect the slick leaking out of her clenching hole. His spit-coated index and middle fingers slowly entered her entrance. “Mmmh, so fucking tasty, darling.”

His thumb circled on her bundle of nerves, long digits pumping in and out. “Clenching fucking tight around my fingers, you're not a virgin, are you? Acting all innocent and sweet in front of your friends, face flushing when someone mentions anything sexual.” His words fired something inside her stomach, coil building to resolve.

“How many boys have you fucked?” He hissed against her skin before his lips captured her clit between them. A yelp broke off from her hoarse throat. “Answer me!” Slap to her pussy caused one more scream to erupt from her.

“Three!” She whined breathlessly, sweat was trickling down from her eyebrow.

“Less than I thought.” He turned back to ravish her. His thumb never gave a break to her pearl, always rubbing and pinching it. His tongue swirled inside her velvety walls. Green eyes looked up to watch his favorite girl falling apart under his tongue. Such an appetizing sight.

“P-professor, too much, too much!” Her feet kicked marble floor, thighs closing around his head. Now that was a reaction pleased him, but, stupid slut didn't have any right to interfere with his dessert. “Shut the fuck up.” His palm collided with her rear, skin already reddening with impact. She nodded. Tears truly blurred her vision, Merlin, all she could feel was burning sensation on her cunt and coil on her stomach ready to snap at any moment.

How was it possible for his tongue to go this deep? She didn't know, feeling it was enough to shut down the thought.

Her hands flew to take hold on his brown strands, tugging at them with want. She had to feel him closer, if it was possible at this position. “G-gonna cum, H-Harry!” He raised his eyebrows, withdrawing from her pulsating core. “I don't remember allowing you to call me ‘Harry'?” She whined when her pussy lost the feeling of his mouth and digits on it. She was fucking close, just a lick away from cumming and he cruelly didn't let her.

“Are we really arguing this?” She propped herself on her elbows, pouty face making Harry more annoyed than before. He didn't think as his hand pulled her shirt, buttons flying around when thin white fabric ripped open. “Keep being a fuckin’ brat, Y/n. Keep being a bitch. And I will fuck you like one.”

His warning made no influence on keeping her tame. “I am not so sure, Harry. Do you even have any strength left to fuck properly, old man?”

His hand was raised to collide with her cheek. Sting was real as it was turning on. A cold smile replaced his angry expression. “Is that so, darling? Then you wouldn't mind getting on your knees?” She swallowed the lump sitting on her throat. He was scarier when he was calm.

“No…”

“No what?”

“No, sir.”

He sat on the couch as she stood up, her knees almost buckled beneath her. Floor was cold but she didn't mind. If her favorite professor requested something from her, she must oblige.

Her hands were eager to please. She first undid his belt, then button of his pants. Even under the fabric, it was big, the stretch would be painful and ecstatic. She palmed it, veins teased skin inside her hand. Her mouth watered at the sight.

Her fingers hooked around the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down with his help, black pants pooled around his ankles. Not wanting a second, she wrapped her hand to his cock. While stroking him, her tongue lapped at the bead of precum accumulated on the tip. He hissed, his hand fisted strands of her hair. “No teasing, Y/n. You got on my nerves enough.” She swallowed a shameless moan when his fingers tugged at her strands. All she did was to nod and act like the pretty doll he wanted her to be.

“Have you ever given head before?” He asked not out of bitterness, but curiosity. “I haven't, sir.” Face softening as a reaction, he reached down to cup her chin. Bending forward, his lips softly pressed against hers as she steadied herself by resting her hands on the corner of the sofa. His tongue tasted like whiskey and her juices. He must have drank before she came to his office.

Needless to say, he tilted his head to get a better angle. Everything was vivid, even the dust falling on her skin. Kiss was sloppier than most of the kisses she shared with boys, but it felt better, more intimate than all of them. Maybe it was Harry, the way he kissed her. Or, maybe it was thrill of an illicit act. Either way, she didn't care.

“I will teach you, darling.”

Her ragged breath caressed the inside of his thighs. He clenched his jaw to not whimper, not yet at least.

“Start by stroking it. Mmm... Just like that.” Her eyes never left his, checking if she was doing well. His flushed cheeks and parted lips gave her the answer she was looking for. “You can run your tongue on it.” She did as she was told. Taste of his skin made her whimper in delight. Fuck, why wait this long? How hard could it be to suck a cock?

“Uh, uh. No need to rush.” He pulled her away when she attempted to take him directly. “Suck the tip first.” Her tongue ran on the reddish tip as she kept stroking him, lips sealing around him. She bobbed her head so slightly, inside of her mouth was burning to go further.

“Good girl. Now take it slowly.” A low grunt left his throat as she eagerly went down on him. She began to move her head up and down, taking all she could. Her hand never left the parts her mouth couldn't reach unattended.

“Shit. Are you sure it's your first time?” She just batted her eyelashes at him, of course it was. She wouldn't lie to him. “Then you have a very capable mouth, love, I must admit it.” He hardly laughed, working on making the needy whines die down on his throat. Sure she was good, but it wasn't a reason to stroke her ego.

“Shh, relax your throat, I don't want you to have an irritated throat afterward.” Easy for him to say. However, the action itself wasn't that much of an easy task. According to her friends, hollowing her cheeks would've made it possible to take a cock deeper.

His hips jerked when his tip hit the back of her throat. Finally, a pathetic whimper escaped the professor's lips. She was proud of the lascivious scene her mouth created.

Her palms pressed on his knees as he pushed his hips up, cock relentlessly hammering to her mouth, saliva was leaking from the corner of her lips. He tugged at her scalp, forcing her to back off from his cock. When he let her go, she gasped for air. Her lungs were screaming for some oxygen. Mix of spit and precum were dripping down to bare chest.

“I don't want to cum into your throat. It would be such a waste.”

She followed his wordless instructions, laying flat on her back against soft crimson cushions. He towered over her bare body for a few seconds, taking in the beautiful sight. Leaning forward, his lips attached to the crook of her neck, leaving his shades of purple marks. Tip of his dick pressed against her clit. Her act of impatiently bucking her hips was adorable, depravement of youth, he thought.

He rolled his hips. At first it felt impossible to fit in. “It won't fit!” Despite her protests, she didn't resist or shove him away. He closed his eyes as their lips met again. They both tasted like each other, like a forbidden fruit. If Eve and Adam saw them, they would've known what real pleasure is, how it looks.

She could swear a fire was striking on her core. The flames were swallowing her remaining sanity and dragging her into the abyss, this was the only way to describe how he felt inside her.

“Goddamn tight, your cunt is basically suffocating my cock, darling.” He spoke through gritted teeth, her slippy walls enveloping him blissfully. Tears trickled down from her temples as she threw her head back. Their hips collided, he was fully sheathed in. His moves were languid and intimate at first, making sure to give time to her so that she can adjust his size.

“M-move faster. Ple… please, sir.” And so he did, because his pretty girl asked him so nicely. Her world was shaking as his cock practically hammering inside of her. Her knees were pressed against her chest as he mouthed at her tit, pert bud crushed between his teeth. He rolled his hips delightly, stretching her to her limits. It felt just so right and flawless with the way his cock fit in her cunt.

Pulling away until he was fully out of her, he smirked at her needy moans. His hips snapped so sudden that she let out a squeak. He caught her hand and brought it to her belly. “Feels so good, huh? Can't even do anything but moan, just like a cockdrunk whore.” He let go of her legs, letting them go down from her chest. He propped one of them around his waist to reach deeper. And for a few seconds, he didn't move.

“W-what? No, no, no. Don't s-stop!” She cried out when he stayed still. He was so cruel that she wanted to slap him. “How insatiable and discourteous…” He mumbled with a shaming tone. However, it was hard for him to keep this position too. So he moved.

Her hands desperately clung to his back, scratching the pale skin. He has never been a masochist but shit, he would let her scratch his back like this for hours.

Her walls began to tighten around him, he was ripping the orgasm out of her he refused to give then. “So close, so close,, s-sir!” Her words were almost inaudible, his hand wrapped around her neck as he pressed his lips against her harshly. With the final snap, he finally exploded inside of her pussy, ropes of cums filling her to the brim as she came down from her own high.

Pair were sweaty and breathless, she was coming to her senses, brain calculating consequences of their actions after his head fell upon her chest. He still hasn't pulled out, refusing to do so. “Y/n, y/n… I could stay inside you forever… My favorite girl…” He placed a gentle kiss between her breasts before pulling out of her. “But we don't have that much time.”

She was too tired to move or even to speak. However a few words managed to find their destination out of her lips. “What happens now..?” Her sentence made him pause. “What happens now?” He repeated. “This stays between us, Y/n. Only us. And if I ever see you with a boy again, I won't be so nice about it. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Good. I will take care of you, it's not like you can move. Oh well, I guess I was a little bit hard on you.” She furrowed.

“A little bit huh?” He chuckled at her complaint. “Anyways, let's get you clean and fresh, darling. Don't worry, I will report to McGonagall that you had a very bad attack and needed assistance.” She pouted. “But will she believe you?”

He smiled, not a charming or a warm smile.

“She always does, love.”

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter smut #harry potter fic #j.k. rowling #teacher x student

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