#stiletto x reader

[inncubus-honey]

fantasy cod au ii

yay!! more military personnel to dream about!!! the characters in this are a mix of specgru and kortac operators; some faves and some underrated faves (imo) but I also did a bit of ooc for them cause we don't that much about a lot of them, so im filing the blanks with some hcs. hope y'all enjoy, feedback is always welcomed <3.

cod operators x gn!reader

Word Count: 6.96k

a/n: also includes poorly google translated sentences and cute original language nicknames <3

gromsko- glaive

due to seeing hussars’ as a child, gromsko always wanted to be one. a strong cavalryman, racing across the battlefield with a polearm in his hand as he was rode in on metal armor and his wings beating against the wind. normally they would sabres, but gromsko thought it was too short for close range fighting, so he ditched it in place of a glaive. they’re like a normal lance, but are forged with a small hook on the other side to catch riders off their horses.

as you gathered vegetables and fruits from your garden for that nights dinner, thundering sounds of hooves alerted you to look up from picking the food. making your way to the entrance of the grounds, the figure on the horse getting closer with clinking metal sounds also reaching your ears.

setting down the basket resting against your hip, the bigger figure came into view with metal wings on the back armor, red coat and twig covered helmet then bringing the horse to a stop. a smile spread across your lips as you raced towards the figure who held their arms out to you.

“sobie!” you would recognize your bear of a husband from anywhere. a soft smile graced his lips as he caught you in his arms, walking towards you and his home. engulfing you in a warm, bear hug that you had missed for the past two weeks made every moment of missing him worth it.

“moje perełko(my pearl)! i’ve missed you greatly…” his thick accent that rumbled into your bones, also made your heart flutter from the comfort it brought. he shoved face in the crooked of your neck, taking in the familiar scent of your skin and hair. closing his eyes and bringing your bodies as close as he could, gromsko took in everything he had missed in the time he was gone at battle.

“i thought you wouldnt be back until next week.” bringing your face out of his shoulder, you gazed upon his still sharp features and atlantic blue eyes. a hand was also brought up to his jaw which he gladly leaned into, resting upon it gently as his strong arms supported your body.

“we won, so we got to come home early. teraz daj mi buziaka, moje perełko (now give me a kiss, my pearl).” whispering upon your lips, you pressed them together and let out a content hum. gromsko secured you closer to his body, he made his way back towards yalls house so he could make up for time lost at battle.

gus- morningstar and shield

seeing royal guards visit through his village as a child, it really inspired him to join the guards to fight and protect his village. but they denied him from joining so he heard about specgru, a mercenary group that would allow anyone and everyone who wanted to join to do so. gus was excited to have found people who wanted to protect people just like him. when they started traveling around to different cities and towns, when he met you thats when he felt complete in his soul.

setting his weapons down by his tent for the night, gus then took a seat by the fire right next to you. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his as he shoved his face into your hair.

leaning into his touch, you gave a soft sigh as gus traced a pattern into your exposed skin. the rest of specgru were talking amongst themselves around the tents, gus and you were contently eating stew that luna made that night.

“mi corazón de melón(my melon heart); you did wonderful out there today.” a soft whisper graced your ears as gus brushes his nose against your temple. a client had payed for us to track down someone who had stolen from them, under the act of an injured soldier.

unknown to us, the thief had a crew with them which meant they wouldnt had over the stolen goods easily. a soft giggle left your lips as gus brought his lips down your jawline and neck. bringing a hand up to rest upon his open chest as he brought your body to his.

“gus..oso(bear) what if someone sees u-us?” you squeaked as gus left little bites along the column of your neck. leaving one last kiss on your freshly kissed skin, gus pulled away to greet you with a smirk.

“just rewarding my brave warrior for all their hard work on the field.” whiskey colored eyes bore into yours, a hand was brought up to brush away baby hairs from your eyes.

“such a clingy oso…” a giggle left your lips as you stood up and dragged gus towards yalls tent.

“ooh, mi corazón de melón wants to celebrate tonight…” gus smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as you made your way into the tent.

luna- dual kamas

know for her grab and go abilities when specgru needed to find certain people. she also uses them as climbing tools which allows quick up and down movements for quick land surveying. luna kinda liked to keep to herself in specgru, but over time she got closer to everyone. also she does most night watches; she doesnt mind staying for long periods at a time and doing more survey work. (since luna is singaporean and they have four national languages, i went with malay cause its the official language, in case anyones curious.)

“mana matahari saya?! semua orang naik angin!(where is my sun?! everyone is getting on my nerves!)” luna mumbled to herself as she walked through the camp, looking for her partner, you.

after doing another quick survey upon reyes’ request when she was moving down the tree that she had climbed up, a weak branch broke under her causing her to fall the rest of the way. as she couldnt find you all over the camp, luna grumbled to herself as she took a sit at the campfire with zimo and reyes who were talking amongst themselves.

while you were out in the woods nearby, looking for any interesting new herbs for your medicines and just any to restock on other herbs. upon entering back into camp, you see your luna sitting at the fire, crouched over herself with zimo and reyes talking amongst themselves.

“im back.” you announced which caused lunas eyes to snap in your direction, looking over her folding arms that rested on her knees. you walked towards them with a basket full of herbs on your hip, a small smile graced you as saw zimo and reyes chuckle to themselves as they watched luna.

“matahari saya! where were you? Saya bimbang tentang anda?(i was worried about you).” luna jumped up from her spot, bringing you into a hug as she rested her head upon yours. you stifled a laugh as luna whined at you for being gone.

“i was out collecting herbs for more medicines, moony.” smiling up at her, you gently rested a hand upon her jaw as she pouted at how you shrugged it off. zimo and reyes also hid their chuckles from how moody she was acting; this caused her to snap her head their way with a sharp glare to her teammates.

“lets go back to our tent…i wanna hold you.” she mumbled as yall started walking back to yalls tent. she brought you back into her side, an arm around your shoulder, the boys snickers still heard in the background.

upon arriving back in your tent, she took the basket of herbs from you and placed them on the ground near your sleeping bags. she sat both of yall down, placing her head onto your lap and thats when you noticed twigs and leaves in her hair.

“did you fall again, moony?” you chuckled lightly as she sighed into your lap, hiding her red cheeks as you pulled out the twigs and leaves.

“i dont want to talk about it…” she mumbled as you made a small pile of the twigs and leaves next to you.

zimo- trident:

zimo feels like a trident guy, i dont why, but it fits him well that i cant think of anything else for him. he would definitely throw his trident at enemies, but he connected a chain to the end of it so he could pull it back to him. he heard about specgru after witnesses them in a bar fight in his hometown. zimo felt like there was a calling to him as he watched them fight the rowdy bar goers, paying for the damages then leaving like nothing happened.

he circled the chain around his hand as he ripped the trident from the enemies head, leaving them to drop dead onto the ground. zimo heard someone coming up behind him, but before he could raise the trident again, an arrow was lodged into the person's throat. another dropped to the ground like a fly; he turned to see his lover lower their bow with a smile on their face.

“qīn'ài de(dearest), that was an excellent shot.” he nodded as you walked up to meet one another, zimo tucked his trident behind his back and brought you into a quick kiss on your forehead. smirking at one another, your backs touched one another with your weapons drawn up at more enemies.

“well, your recoil was on point as well, lao gong(husband).” you both share a chuckle as enemies fell before yall. zimo made efficient work with his trident while you shot enemies down with your bow and arrow, swiftly pulling arrows from your quiver. your bodies danced like the ballet of swan lake; siegfried and odette dancing in the forest under the light of the moon after her first transformation.

“you flatter me too much, qīn'ài de, but thank you.” you heard the smile in his voice as you heard the chain of his weapon rattle. wind rushed past your ears as you released arrow after arrow into enemies that seemingly had no end. the entire of specgru had soon brought the horde of enemies to an end, thankfully. blood soaked the once bright green fields into a muddy brown with bright red pops, your boots were caked with blood and layered with mud as you took a moment to calm your breath.

you took a seat on a fallen log, your bow sitting next to you as your arms rested on your knees, zimo took a spot next to me with his own weapon next to him on the log. i sighed, placed my head onto zimos shoulder as he also took a moment to catch his breath.

“can we get some meat stew with a lot of potatoes?” zimo softly muttered, above you as his head rested on yours. a small chuckle left you as you nudged his jaw with your head.

“of course, lao gong…” you huffed with a small chuckle, zimo brought you closer into his side as he wrapped his arm around your waist. you felt a soft kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, zimo brushed his nose against your temple as the night slowly started set in, turning the heat of the battle field to a somber gravesite.

reyes- crossbow:

reyes would go hunting with his father when he was younger and his fathers choice of weapon was a crossbow while his father gave him a small dagger to help with gathering herbs and skinning whatever animal of choice they had for dinner. as he got older and started hunting on his own as his father got older; he gave reyes his crossbow. made of rich cherry wood with silver metal plates for a better grip, reyes took great pride in his father giving him his crossbow.

specgru had taken a job that allowed them to stay in a town with a cozy inn for everyone to grab a bed. you had taken a double bed near the back of the inn with the fireplace going upon the moment you entered the room. you took a moment to rest your head as you waited for reyes to get back from the town. zimo and him wanted to take a look around since it was a new town and didnt know what it could offer.

creaking wood alerted you for someone coming towards the door which caused you to open your tired eyes in time to hear a soft knock upon the wooden door. reyes figure tiptoed into the shared room, you sat up and rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes as he gave a small smirk.

“hello my nighttime meadow, did you just wake up from a nap?” his words were soft in the air as he sat next to you on the feather stuffed mattress. you chuckled at his nickname and cheesy actions, thats the kinda lover of reyes was.

“what did you do this time, foxtrot?” you chuckled as reyes gave a fake gasp while placing a hand over his heart. he gave you a silly shocked expression as you giggled and lightly hit his shoulder as he let out a small string of gasp.

“my darling meadow! the fact you accused me of doing something while out and about with our friend, zimo, is such a g-g-ghastly thing to say!” you both shared a smirk as he chuckled and gasped. he pulled something out of his satchel that rested on his hip; you leaned over to try and see what he was holding, but he hid behind his back with a smirk.

“whats that, foxtrot?” you raised an eyebrow at his sneakiness.

“close your eyes and i’ll show you, my meadow.” with a little sigh and roll of your eyes, you placed your hands over your eyes. you heard slight shuffling beside you felt a light metal chain be placed upon your collars bones. a light peck was pressed against your cheek when you felt he was finished.

“now you may open your eyes, my meadow.” removing your hands from your eyes, looking down at your chest you saw a small silver pendant sitting there. it was a tiny lily of the valley pendant; your favorite flower, but you also had so many you couldnt always name a favorite. but one that always came first or second was the lily of the valley.

“o-oh…reyes, darling. i love it…this is one of the best gifts i’ve ever gotten.” leaning closer to him, you pressed a passionate kiss to his lips with his arms wrapping around you. “it…it reminded me of you, meadow. you mean everything to me, darling…” reyes gently cupped your jaw, bringing you into a kiss only to release small giggles and laughs throughout it.

konig- battle axe:

a large double sided axe was always resting upon his shoulder whenever walking into battle. the bleached streaks running the front of his mask, harsh and watching stormy blue eyes piercing through his darkened outfit. his hulking form over the rest of his teammates, konig was unruly on the field then acted like a mouse whenever in their camp. careful movements, his eyes always observing everyone and their actions as not to frighten or hurt anyone

konig held his hands to his front as he moved around the inn, trying to keep small and thoughtful movements as he tried to find a place to sit. many of his teammates were sitting amongst themselves, already eating and talking, so he kinda stood in the middle of everyone as his head kept on a swivel.

“konig, over here!” you called from where you sat with horangi who was eating quietly. konig chest was relieved of the anxious feeling that was bubbling up in his chest, carefully and slowly he made his way over to you. sitting down with you and horangi and his stein of mead, konig let out a small sigh of relief.

“gott sei dank, ich habe euch beide gefunden.(thank god, i found you both.)” he spoke, reaching under the table to hold your hand as you drank your drink of choice. you returned a soft smile as you could tell he was smiling under his hood as it reached his eyes.

“horangi found the table for us while you were getting your drink.” you responded as konig gave a thankful nod to his friend. konig carefully lifted his hood to take sips mead as you talked about the fight that took place just moments before. excitedly, you spoke of what you thought was cool and what techniques you wanted to try again upon the next fight.

konig only stared you down with lovesick eyes as horangi ate his food in peace. konig was content, he had been since joining kortac and meeting you, his liebster(most beloved). upon meeting you when he joined kortac, it's like a puzzle piece that fits perfectly or like he could breathe clearly for the first time in forever. konig would go to the ends of the earth if you had asked him; anything you asked him to do, he would do in a heartbeat.

“-then that cool move nikto did, i asked him to teach it to me later. isnt so cool, konig?” you beamed a smile up at him. he zoned back into reality from his thoughts focused on you when you finished talking, you gave his hand a light squeeze as he shook his head back and looked at you with soft smiles.

“yes, liebster, im listening to you..” he softly told you as he leaned over to softly bump his head against yours. his loving gesture he would always do in public if he wasnt comfortable enough to lift his mask up to kiss you. you leaned against him with a soft hum leaving your lips. your foreheads rested against one another as horangi sighed and rolled his eyes at the pda before him.

“​​토할거야…(i'm going to throw up)” horangi mumbled to himself as his pushed away his unfinished food. you and konig left out chuckles at horangis actions, pulling away for the sake of him.

konig- battle axe:

woldo is traditional korean polearm. it gets its name from its curved blade, meaning ‘moon blade’. horangi handles his weapon with great pride and graced for his heritage, also maybe…to impress you. graceful hits with the woldo and harsh kicks to enemies as he gives subtle glances towards your figure as you did your own fighting. but upon anyone mentioning it, he would absolutely deny it while hiding his flushed cheeks.

“stop shouting, konig! they could hear you!” horangi shushed his excited german friend as they sat in his tent. konig couldnt contain his excitement for horangi as he learned of his secret feelings for you. he told konig hoping he would have some kind of advice on how to ask you out.

“thats so exciting, horangi! im hoping they will say yes to your proposal!” he exclaimed as he walked out, not giving horangi an answer as he let out a sigh and hung his head in defeat. moving to sit on his cot, horangi just decided to deal with it later, he laid down on his cot and got ready to take a nap. until you walk in with a small smile upon your lips.

“horangi? oh, are you sleeping?” you started to walk back out, but horangi jumped up from his position, smoothing out his clothes. he shot you a sheepish smile as you stood at the front of his tent.

“n-no! no…i was just resting my eyes for a moment. anyway what can i help you with?” he rubbed his neck, calming his nerves as he was in such a private place with you. you pulled something out of your satchel that rested on your hip, walking over to him you held out a tassel of red and white thread.

reaching out to take it, horangi inspected it closely. there was nothing much about it until he noticed a small moon pendant hanging along with the thread. looking back towards you as you gave your own sheepish smile.

“its a tassel for your weapon…i remember you saying that your other one had fallen during our last fight. i figured why not make you one to replace it…” you held your hands behind you as looked the ground, not daring to meet his honey orbs that bore into yours.

“i dont know what to say…this is amazing, yeobo(darling).” standing up from where he sat, horangi brought you into a hug with his face resting upon your shoulder. ever since joining kortac and getting closer with horangi, he has called you yeobo and you never knew what it meant.

“horangi, what does yeobo mean?” reluctantly you pulled away from the hug that just felt so natural; horangi once again rubbed his neck to calm his nerves as he thought of an answer to tell you. but he decided that now was finally time to tell you how he truly felt, no more hiding.

“yeobo is…a term of endearment..for couples in korea; it means honey or darling. i've liked you ever since getting to know you on a personal level…i understand if you don-” before he could finish speaking, you cut him off by pressing your lips against one another. his hands coming to rest upon your jaw where you moved your hands to rest upon his broad chest.

the kiss felt like it was forever, but it was only a few moments of gently dancing your lips against one another. horangi never wanted this moment to end with you, it was everything he wished for when it came to you. but soon you both pulled away to have air reenter your lungs, noses gently rested against one another as your breaths fanned across each others skin.

“i love you too, horangi…more than you could ever know.” you whispered to him with a giggle and smile across your lips. you both stood in horangis tent, holding each other in contentment as konig stood outside the tent, a smirk hidden under his hood as he was happy for his friends.

calisto- rapier:

as the house of bourbons only heiress, calisto grew up in a home of luxury and comfort. not having to worry about her next meal, warm bed, clean clothes and the ability to bathe. but she always wanted more to do than just have maids and servants weigh on her hand and foot, so she secretly started training in the rapier, an elegant weapon of choice, she thought. when she and her family were traveling through the countryside, she heard of the traveling mercenary group, kortac. that they traveled across the country and world, taking on missions people asked of them to track down people and recruiting whoever would like to join.

“mes biche…tu as l'air si paisible comme ça.(my doe…you look so peaceful like this)” calisto sat at your side, just coming back from a late night mission. you had stayed back as it was simple intel gathering, just wanting to breathe for the night. by the time calisto had gotten back, you were asleep. cuddling into calisto pillows, soft sighs left your lips as you wished for your girlfriend to be cuddling you.

calisto softly laid herself down the bed next to your sleeping figure, sapphire eyes watched your calm features closely. calming breathing sounds were the only sounds in the inn room, the fireplace had slowly gone out just before calisto entered the room. the soft shuffling of bed sheets and creaking of wood caused you to shift in your sleep, calisto rested a hand upon your hair and gave slow rubs to keep you asleep as she wished not to disturb your slumber.

“calisto…when did you get back, dearest?” softly the words left your lips, turning over to her person as she continued to play with locks of your hair in the quiet of the night. growing up in the house of bourbon, she never took much pride in the name or many things in her life. until she met you; her mes biche, her second hand in battle, the one she lays with at night.

trusting no harm would come to her as she puts her still body next to yours, but shes alright with that. she will take every opportunity to show you off to anyone who takes slight interest in you.

“i got in a few moments ago, darling. do you eat before going to bed?” she cocked an eyebrow at you as you turned your body towards her. calisto smiled back at you as a sleepy smile graced your lips.

“yes, calisto. i used some of my coins to have a meal downstairs before the kitchen closed. what about you, dearest?” she nodded as the comfortable silence returned in the moonlit room. you cupped the back of her head and brought her close to you and pressed a light peck upon her lips, calisto eagerly returned the kiss with a hand coming up to rest upon your cheek.

passion started building up between you two, harsher breaths released from one another's lips, calisto climbed upon your hips as your hands attached themselves to her waist. she rocked her body along yours as you boxed her close to your body.

“mes biche, god you’re amazing. je veux rester comme ça pour toujours(i want to stay like this forever).” her words were breathlessly whispered across your lips. you nodded wordlessly, hugging her closer to you and sucking harshly upon each other's lips.

“i wouldnt have it any other way, dearest.”

fender- two sided sword:

basically a wooden pole with long blades on either side. hes also a fan of molotov cocktails, but only uses those when he has to cause he only carry so many glass bottles without alerting people. growing up he never like he belonged in his mothers village as people stared at him with dirty looks from knowing what happened with his father and mother, so when hearing about kortac, fender took the opportunity to leave home. he left his mother a note then joined kortac for a new life.

fender always dealt with feelings of not fitting in, so he had a tendency to sometimes in his tent and stew in his thoughts. he was doing the same today, after setting up camp for the night, fender went straight to yalls shared tent, hugging his knees to his chest as he mind raced with a million thoughts.

you had been helping calisto set up her tent before noticing he was missing from the group. once she was set, you wandered around the camp that sat at the edge of the forest you had been traveling through. once you opened up the tent flaps to relieve fender in the fetal position, just staring at the wall before him.

“édesem(honey), whats wrong?” walking further into the tent, you slowly approached him and hugged his shoulder as he didnt flinch or make a subtle movement which was nothing new to you. bronze eyes were glazed over as he stared at the wall, unregistered to the world around him; slowly, carefully you lifted a hand up to rest upon his left cheek and turned him to look at you with worry etched into your brows.

“fender? do you want to be alone or can i help you, baby?” you whispered between the two yall. the longer you held fenders face in your hands, the sooner his eyes stopped being glazed over, showing something almost like recognition to your person. taking a deep breath, fenders eyes closed as his tensed body slowly uncoiled and he brought up a hand to rest upon yours.

“sorry, szívem(my heart)…i-i just got into my head too much f-for the moment..” he replied as the worry in your face melted away. the corners of his lips didnt meet the corner of his eyes showing the tiredness in his face. you knew that he was like a burden to the group, to you and he was hiding so he could think through what his mind was screaming to him.

fender felt his body curl into yours, just placing his head upon your chest. you still held his face in your hands, his body releasing all the stress and emotions he has been holding in for the past week or so. he crumpled like a sand castle getting washed away by the sea; just feeling content with warmth and comfort of a familiar person.

after the leaving of his father back to america, his mother was distant(i do believe fenders mother is a good mother, but this just for this scenario), which caused strong feelings of trusting people and opening up about his emotions. when he met you in the small town pub, you were working as a server, upon being served, fender took immediate notice of you as you rushed the crowded pub.

bringing around drinks and food, fender watched in awe as you held all the weight of the trayson your shoulders and wrist. so yall got to talking for the three weeks they would be stationed there. soon he convinced you to join kortac and you didnt need that much convincing to leave the shitty pub you worked in.

soon fender pushed you down onto the dirt floor cot as he hugged your body like he would disappear the next morning or he could possibly forget who you were and that was a fate worst than death for fender. a baby-like whimper left his mouth as cuddled into your body, you pulled the blanket up over both of your bodies.

“you’re okay, fender…im here for you when you need to talk.” you whispered to him, pressing a light peck to his forehead before he drifted into much needed sleep from his restless nights over the past week; fender deserved the good sleep.

stiletto- dire flail:

a double sided fail was her weapon of choice, liking how easily moveable it was and how she could multiple people at once. most people took to her with intimidation at her 6’ stature and the scar that traveled along her face(i like to imagine her 6’) she kept to herself in the group and was alright being by herself. until she met you that is; joining the group at the same time as fender when they visited your village, she was drawn to you upon seeing your bright smile and shining eyes as you laughed at a joke made by horangi.

sal stood behind the rest of the group as you all climbed up the mountain towards you next destination, she kept watch from the rear for the group as konig was at the head. you were near her person which made her content on the trek, she watched over your shorter stature. every so often you took glances behind you to see if stiletto was still behind you, gracing her with a small smile whenever you would see her figure again. (im going to switch between sal, salvatrice and stiletto btw.)

it would be another few hours until you all had reached the village where your next assignment for kortac. you all stopped at the local inn to rent rooms, eat some food and get rest for the night. salvatrice wordlessy followed behind you as you walked up the room they gave you, she had grabbed your hand the moment you both started up the stairs. setting your stuff down in your shared room, sal stood next to you as she watched you flop onto the bed.

“salvatrice, baby, lay with me.” you called out to her as you held your hand to her; softly smiling down at her lover. gently folded her hand into yours, stiletto placed herself next to you on the feather stuff queen sized bed and felt relief in her feet and body from the long trek.

“how are you from the hike, amorino(little love)?” her raspy voice was the only sound to echo between the wooden room, you turned your body towards her and smiled and smiled softly at her.

“im fine, tesoro mio(my darling). just a little sore is all.”.all…how about you, sal?” your hands danced in one another, your fingers tracing the lines that decorated her palm as she watched with glee in her pale blue eyes. soon a idea crossed your mind which caused you to sit up with a bright smile upon your face as salvatrice looked up with slight confusion now crossing her brows.

“lets go walk around town, tesoro! i would love to see what they have here.” you beamed a smile at her, sal chuckled lightly as she watched you drip with excitement. she took your hand in hers, sitting up from the bed and opened up the room for you. an excited squeal left your lips, running up to her taller figure and hugged her neck to which she nuzzled into the side of your head.

walking through the town with sal, you pointed out all the interesting shops to you. from an antique store to the biggest bookstore you had seen in any town yet. she gladly followed behind you in silence as you geeked out from everything you saw from a beautiful choker necklace in the antique store to a hardcover, first edition of one of your favorite books.

but whenever you saw the price of the items, your face fell as you saw how you couldnt afford it. dejected, you would place the respective items back onto the shelf and walked to a different part of the store. what you didnt know was salvatrice would grab the item the moment you walked away, walking up to check out and brought them for you without thinking. you’re her amorino, you only deserve the best in her opinion and she would give it to you.

still you held excitement for walking around the town, you both soon stopped for dinner as it got later in the day; pinks and oranges mixed together with a background of baby blue. as you both sat down and outside at the pub near the antique shop, sal brought your dinner to the table after ordering inside. you both ate in a comfortable silence as you slowly started getting tired from walking around the town.

.“oh man, im tired…thank you for walking around with me, sal.” you flopped back down on the bed with a small as sal took a seat next to you, resting a hand on your knee and gently rubbed your skin under her calloused hand.

salvatrices’ mind wandered to the necklace and book that rest in her leather hip pouch. she tapped your knee to get your attention, doing so successfully, you sat up with a content groan leaving your lips as you felt sleepy from the warm meal you just finished.

“i have something…for you, amorino..” she spoke which made you tilt your head in a slight confusion as you wondered what she had gotten you. maybe a flower or dessert from the restaurant, that would be nice to eat next to the fireplace. looking over at sal with a soft smile, you watched as she slowly pulled out the wrapped up vintage choker placed atop the first edition book that you saw earlier when out on the town.

“sal…tesoro. you shouldnt have…salvatrice, they were so expensive, you didnt have to…” you words were caught up in your throat as you swallowed your tears to the best of your ability. salvatrice held out the presents for you, softly you took the presents from her hands and placed them on your lap, gently opening up the brown wrapping around the necklace.

the firelight bounced off the onyx that was sewn into the velvet band; silver filaments bands surrounded the emerald cut jewel. you gently lifted it up to your eye level and got a good look at it in the soft lighting. before you could say anything to sal, she took it from your hands and moved it down towards your neck and gently clasped around your neck.

“i saw you eyeing it up in the antique store. you deserve it, amorino. my darling deserves all great things…”, salvatrice pressed kisses along the back of your neck, slowly getting to every inch of your skin,”the beautiful necklace that compliments their skin as it drapes oh so nicely along their collarbones.”

you muffled the low sounds leaving your lips as sal held your body close to hers, ravaging your neck, the soft skin of yours.

“s-sal, tesoro…” hot breaths left your lips as your lover showered your skin with hot kisses.

nikto- sodegarami:

a sodegarami was a weapon used in feudal japan. its like a two pronged ‘trident’ with spikes all over the prongs and two blades sticking out of the top of the polearm. nikto stole the polearm off of a body when he walked onto the battlefield after escaping his confinements; also ripping apart the owners clothes and using strips of cloth to hide the scars that decorated his face. he had been kidnapped by the enemy when he accidentally wandered across them burning a body; he was taken, tortured and held prisoner by the scum, when kortac and you heard about what was going on at the compound where they were also holding other people.

nikto always took showers in the dead of night, never wanting anyone to see how disfigured his features had gotten from the torture he endured from the man who kidnapped him. hearing the shuffle of bags and items that were set up inside yalls tent had woken you up to see niktos figure, hunched over and digging through his bag.

“nikto? darling, what are you looking for so late at night?” a yawn escaped your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, sitting up you pushed the plush quilt off your person as nikto turned his back to you.

“иди спать, не обращай на меня внимания, Пчелка(go back to sleep, dont mind me, little bee).” his voice growled out into the darkness of the tent and night. you made sure to keep your eyes still and trained onto one place, so nikto wouldnt have to keep stressing about you accidentally looking in his direction.

“nikto, obviously its important. let me help, Родна́я(dear). please?” softly your voice reached his stressed out mind. after unrobing to take his nightly shower, when he returned to yalls tent and he was putting on clean clothes. when he reached for his mask that he placed in the pocket of his bag so as not to lose it or get it dirty, he couldnt find it which sent adrenaline down his spine.

if it was the cloth he made from ripped up clothing, he wouldnt had cared so much, but after meeting you and getting to know you, you made him a new cloth mask which was one whole piece in one color. it meant so much to him after yall got to together, that someone would do such a sweet thing for him like this, it was his most cherished item ever.

“i..i lost the mask. i took it o-off to go shower, but when i g-got back, i cant find it. i-i swear i didnt me-mean to lose it-” carefully you reached out to hold his hand in order comfort him. you werent angry or upset, you understand that he didnt do it on purpose.

“its okay, nikto. sometimes we just misplace things, its not a big deal. how about you look on the left side and i'll look on the right and see if we can find it in our things.” you whispered to him, bringing up his hand up to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand. he turned every so slightly which allowed you to see his side profile.

you made out the shape of his nose and lips, those lips that you love to kiss or run your fingers across. nikto nodded at your suggestion and moved to the left and started shifting through yalls bags, looking for any sign of his beloved mask.

you made your way to the right doing the same, shuffling and sifting through everything in the bags. you could hear niktos grunts of frustration and huffing as he looked in one place then put everything back and moved onto the next place. soon under his towel, you found his mask folded up neatly where he left upon some of your clothes.

“Родна́я, i found it over here.” i held it out to nikto with my back to him, so he could allow himself to turn around. you heard a small ‘whump’ from nikto dropping the pile of the clothes he was looking through. his hand brushed against your skin, gently and took the cloth that was neatly folded in your hand.

you could hear the shuffling as nikto secured his face with the cloth again. then before you could say something or turn back around, nikto wrapped himself around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck. despite his nose and lips being covered you feel nikto move his in such a way that let you feel the kisses through the cloth.

“thank you, Пчелка. i-i dont know what i would d-do with you..” his voice was low and tired, returning the kiss on his cloth covered cheek, you moved you both to yalls palette on the forest floor. nikto curled his body around yours as yall got comfortable and drifted to sleep that night.

thank yall for so much love on the first part, im sorry this one took so long to get out as i go to night school 7 days a week, but yay i got this done

#cod mw2 x reader #cod operators x reader #gromsko x reader #gus x reader #luna x reader #zimo x reader #reyes x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #calisto x reader #fender x reader #stiletto x reader #nikto x reader #honey writings #gn reader

[cariadlovescodwomen]

while everyone obsesses over ghost, price, soap, könig, and graves (give more love to gaz, ale, and rudy, though)

i am pathetically enamoured with the cod ladies

these four in particular, lmao

just look at kleo, holy fuck

i’d let roze shoot me

calisto would probably hate me, but, oh well 😍

and stiletto just does things to me, man

#call of duty #kleopatros kleo gavras #kleo cod #rozlin roze helms #roze cod #calisto allard #calisto cod #salvatrice stiletto muselli #stiletto cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #mw2 x reader #mwii x reader #cariad won’t stop talking

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Maniac | König x M!Reader | Part II

Note: Just to clarify, my boii isn’t wearing his helmet in this story, just his good ol’ rag of a shirt on his mighty head. One of my most popular incorrect call of duty quotes makes an appearance here lmao.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting, Knives, Mentions of Homophobia, Unrealistic depiction of KorTac, the Military in general and uhh hand to hand combat?, Injuries, Angst, Slight NSFW, Slight OOC, Reader got a blood kink oopsie, König as well?? Unrealistic portrayal of lots of things

Summary: König’s relationship with KorTac’s local psychopath is something he himself doesn’t really understand. But when an incident happens and a picture of the two is circling around the army base they’re currently staying at, they finally address what is going on between them...

Word Count: 5,18k

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Part I

He doesn’t see Atom for a few days. 

Which is strange, considering that he saw him from afar almost every day in the past but now he’s nowhere to be seen. He can’t feel his presence at all and the attacks aren’t coming. It’s a different kind of unsettling.

Instead, he can sense that something is off with the base in general. After walking out of PT with Horangi and Klaus, they pass a few marines who look at him and then start to whisper.

The other two operators don’t notice it but König does immediately, the anxiety of years of harassment in his youth stirring awake.

At first, it’s subtle. But then after two days, it becomes obvious that the marines are really talking about him, and even his friends realize.

“What the hell’s going on?” Zeus asks eventually when they’re all sitting in the mess hall, eating some sad excuse of what they call fried chicken. He points at König with his fork while chewing.

“They’re talking about you, right? Why?”

The Austrian shrugs his shoulders. “No clue.”

He really doesn’t know. He hasn’t done anything embarrassing and the others haven’t pranked him in a while so there shouldn’t be anything to talk about. Unless...

The image of Y/N licking his own blood with a smirk on his lips comes to mind and he closes his eyes to get that memory out of his head.

Not that he succeeds this time either. In the last few days his brain has run itself stupid with replaying it.

It’s absurd and he kind of questions his sanity but there’s this part in his head that finds the blood-licking extremely hot.

Maybe he got hit a bit too much or Y/N threw him on the ground too often. Or his madness rubbed off. He laughs to himself, forgetting that the lower half of his face is currently uncovered so that he can eat.

“What?” Stiletto asks.

“What what?” He tilts his head in confusion.

“Why’re you laughing?”

He shrugs his shoulder.

“You hang out too often with Atom”, Calisto says, leaning back as she stirs her tea. “He’s rubbing off on you.”

He halts and stares at her. Can she hear his thoughts??

He’s about to open his mouth when Horangi interrupts: “I haven’t seen him around for a while. You two finally buried the hatchet?”

König shakes his head, shoving a bite into his mouth to avoid talking about it. But the others all look at him with expectation, there’s something in their expressions that makes him feel slightly anxious.

“Yeah, what’s your boyfriend up to?” Conor asks, slightly smiling, clearly trying to vex him.

“Oh fuck off”, he mutters with a full mouth, ignoring the eruption of snickers from his friends. His glad that most of his face is still covered, he can feel how his cheeks begin to heat up and he’s sure that his complexion would show it off.

He wonders though. Where’s Y/N?

The question gets answered when they’re on the way to their barracks.

Horangi suddenly pulls König aside after staring at his phone for a bit.

“Dude”, he begins, sounding unsure of how to breach the topic of whatever he wants to talk about, “I think I get why they’re talking about you.”

The tone of the Korean opens a pit in König’s stomach and instead of explaining more, Horangi just gives him his phone, standing awkwardly to the side, while he looks at the screen.

It’s a picture.

The angle tells him it was taken from outside the barracks, the photographer must’ve stood really close to the doorway. Y/N blocks off König’s head but even then it’s obvious that they’re kissing, based on the posture of their bodies.

He stares at the picture, trying to coordinate his racing thoughts.

Who took it? He asks himself barely putting the first few moments after parting lips with Atom together. But then he remembers, there was a marine.

He looks at Horangi, who watches him closely, his sunglasses on his head for once.

König doesn’t know what he should say, if he should explain, how his friend was even thinking about gay people- or in his case bisexual people- but he doesn’t even get the opportunity to open his mouth, because a sudden shout can be heard coming from the left corridor that leads to the gym.

“What the hell, Jackson- grab him!”

The group of KorTac operators all turn their heads, the shout clearly setting off some alarm bells. With various levels of interest, they make their way toward the gym, trying to find out what is going on.

König follows in a slight daze, still holding onto Horangi’s phone.

When they arrive, they can’t see shit at first because the room entrance is blocked by several marines standing in the doorway. Shouts and grunts can be heard from inside.

Someone yelps: "Fuck man, it was just a joke- stop it-!"

König’s eyes go wide when he hears Atom's voice- his tone is furious: "Let me show you what I understand as a joke, you motherfucker!"

There’s shuffling and several people shout: "Get him off!" "Fuck, how strong is this bastard!" “Calm down, sergeant!"

Due to König’s size he can look over most of the marines who are blocking the doorway and he spots the cause of the spectators; Y/N is on top of a marine, holding him in some type of gi choke, while four others try to pull him off the guy.

König recognizes the marine’s face immediately, even when he’s all bloody. It’s the man from the hallway and he understands what’s going on.

He tries to push through the crowd, calling out the sergeant’s name.

“Atom, calm down!”

He manages to make it through and rushes to them.

“Atom, let him go. You’re going to kill him”, he says and to everyone’s surprise, Y/N stops struggling as soon as he hears the Austrian’s voice. They pull him off of the guy.

“König”, he mutters and it sounds almost... relieved?

E/c meets blue. His eyes wander to the white band-aid on Atom’s neck. He gulps.

“Whatever he said, it’s not worth it. Just calm down, he’s an idiot.”

The marine with the bloody nose and face grunts, obviously not liking the insult but he knows better than retorting especially because Atom’s still in close proximity, turning to look down at him with a death stare.

The sergeant seems to contemplate König’s words for a bit. The tension and fury in his body haven’t left yet, he can tell based on the way he clenches his fists.

“That bastard-” Atom begins in a low voice, when suddenly their team leader’s voice comes from the hallway: “What the fuck is going on here?!”

König looks back, his eyes meet Stiletto’s who gives him a thumbs up and he nods.

The murmurs of the people around them stop immediately.

Majka parts the spectating crowd like Moses and he looks at the men in front of him, scrutinizing Atom and then the marine on the ground who’s holding his bleeding nose. He glances at König.

“Atom.” His voice is stern. “Go to my office and wait for me there, right now.”

The sergeant looks at him, his expression grim. “Sir-”

“RIGHT NOW!” Majka isn’t taking any of his bullshit today, he’s dead serious.

Atom looks at König for a moment and then turns and walks out of the room, his head high as he passes the onlookers.

The RS team leader turns around to face the gawking marines.

“Do you have nothing to do?” he growls. They mutter something and he just looks at the door. “Fuck off!”

The KorTac operators watch as they begin to filter out of the gym, the four marines who tried to pull Atom off of their guy also begin to move, one of them helps the bloodied man up but Majka points at him.

“Major Briggs wants to see your ass.”

The marine’s eyes go wide. He stammers a “Yes, sir!” and then hurries out of the room.

When the only people in the room are from KorTac, Majka sighs deeply and wipes his forehead. He looks at König.

“I don’t give a shit about your or anyone else’s sexual preferences. You like what you like, I don’t care but I’m telling you if anyone gives you shit-” the team leader looks at all of them, “tell me or Ridgeback. We’ll handle it. And if any of you have some dumbass opinions about someone’s sexuality, I’ll make sure to beat your ass straight, understood?”

König feels relief wash over him even after being put in the spotlight.

“Yessir!” they all shout and Hutch whistles loudly. “Awe, you care about us!”

Majka clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Yes, I do.”

They laugh and Conor shouts from the back: “Even about the lunatic?”

Their team leader rolls his eyes. “Even him. And now buzz off.”

He makes a shoo-shoo gesture and they file out into the hallway, König following behind the Serbian and Stiletto.

Zeus and Aksel joke around with Majka but he just flips them off and then leaves in the direction of his office. The others slowly make their way to the barracks, talking about what had just occurred.

The Austrian lingers behind the group, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the whole development of the last 15 minutes. Horangi seems to have realized that as he slows down to walk beside him.

“You okay?” he asks him. König shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “The marine- he took the photo.”

His friend nods. “Yeah, I guessed that...” He remains quiet for a while.

“So... Are you guys together then? Did you tame Atom without telling us?” The Korean shows a teasing smile towards the end.

König sighs deeply, the anxious knot in his stomach grows. “No. He just kissed me out of nowhere. He completely surprised me.”

Horangi tilts his head, eyeing him closely, trying to figure out how far he can prod. “So you’re not...?” he trails off.

Ah, fuck it.

“No, I am bi”, he states roughly, louder than he intended. The two KorTac operators in front of them turn around. “What does that mean?” Zero asks.

“He goes for both ladies and gents”, Klaus explains.

Zero nods thoughtfully. “I see. No mercy for anyone, makes sense.”

König looks at Horangi and they exchange eye contact.

His friend bursts out laughing, making more heads turn in their group.

“What?” Zero asks and Klaus just shakes his head, patting his shoulder. König can’t stop himself from smiling either, Zero’s answer was just perfect.

The anxiety in his chest slowly starts to disappear. Yeah, fuck it.

It isn’t his first coming out and he has good friends in KorTac. Worst case scenario, he’ll use the knife skills he has perfected over the last few months with Atom’s training to silence someone. His smile drops.

Atom.

Will he get a disciplinary meeting for beating up the marine?

König knows the sergeant has been warned several times about his behaviour. But Majka’s words from before... He knows that Y/N didn’t just beat the guy for no reason. Will they take that into account?

He doesn’t know and now the anxiety is back.

They reach the barracks and the women split with a “See you later, losers!” from them. König contemplates whether he should follow the others or go to Majka’s office to intercept Atom.

To be honest, he doesn’t really want to do the latter. He hasn’t talked to the sergeant in days and although he had a lot of time, he still hasn’t found the words he could say to him.

He knows they should address whatever that kiss meant but...

He just doesn’t know. Whether Y/N is serious or just toying with him. If he is, König doesn’t know if he would be able to deal with that truth. He feels someone’s eyes on him and he turns to his side, where Horangi is watching him.

“Are you going to talk with Atom about what just happened?” he asks, keeping his voice low this time. But he doesn’t have to worry because the others are walking off, disappearing around the corner.

König bites his lips. “I don’t know... Should I?”

Horangi looks at him baffled. “Why not?” he asks almost incredulously.

“We don’t usually talk”, he mutters fidgeting with the seam of his mask. His friend’s eyebrows almost disappear in his hairline. “So you do what...? Just fight all the time without a peep?”

He clicks his tongue. “No, I mean we just don’t... talk about anything serious. We don’t even do small talk. I have no clue what he’s doing in his off time, where he goes, what he likes to do. He just doesn’t seem like the guy for it.”

Horangi hums, understanding what he’s getting at. “You think it’ll be awkward?”

He nods. Yeah, that’s exactly it. He just can’t picture the conversation in his head.

‘Hey, so why did you kiss me out of the blue? Were you attracted to me all this time or was that just a stupid joke to throw me off my game? Because if so I’m probably going to go dig a hole outside at the obstacle course and kill myself in it. And why did you beat that guy up? Is it because he caught your joke and you’re a raging homophobe or because you wanted to protect your or my reputation?’ Ja, eher nicht.

He doesn’t know how Atom would react. Yes, he did get to know the sergeant better in the last few months, he got to know some of his personality and his quirks. But they’re mostly related to fighting.

König can discern when Y/N is in a good or a bad mood in their training fights.

If he’s in high spirits, the significant grin on his face is almost up to his ears and there’s a glint in his e/c eyes, his eyebrows raised. He trash talks more than usual and almost playfully strikes at him, a skip in his movements and sometimes it’s almost like he’s dancing.

The killing intent in his attacks is there but it’s more like he’s a cat playing with a mouse before biting it dead.

Unlike when he’s in a bad mood. Then there’s no amusement in his eyes, even though he keeps grinning. But the smirk combined with the furrowed line of his eyebrows is unsettling.

Y/N’s posture is usually an indication that he’s pissed. If he is, there’s a certain way he holds himself, the center of his balance low, shoulders tight.

His attacks are ruthless and precise and it always leaves König wondering if this is the time when he finally gets stabbed or cut. Those fights prove to him that there’s some truth behind Atom’s nut job reputation.

More than a few times he has witnessed the other’s temper when Y/N abruptly decides to end their fighting with a quick feint.

“It’s getting fucking boring.” And the next thing he knows a fist is smashing into the mat or wall right next to his head.

But usually, Atom feels better after sparring for a while, as seen by his walking away while whistling, even if he was pissed at the beginning of the fight. As he said, the sergeant seems to release his pent-up stress when they exchange blows.

So yeah... König can read Atom’s mood to a certain extent but there’s not much he knows about his personality besides that. In general, he doesn’t really know the man.

He’s aware of Atom’s exceptional combat skills, whether with a knife or a rifle and on ops he can count on him to carry on even through hell but more than that...

Not in a billion years did he think that he could potentially be attracted to him or other men in general. Okay, he was even questioning women, based on the lack of a reaction when they visited a strip club once on Hutch’s birthday.

But that’s beside the point. He just... König got to know Y/N’s fists throughout the last few months but other than that the man, his thoughts and feelings, they’re all an enigma.

Horangi stares at the pondering Austrian who looks hesitant and he could practically feel the anxiety radiate off of him.

But the Korean knows. He knows something König hasn’t realized yet and basically every one of the others knows as well, after all, they met Atom way earlier than he did.

“I think you should go have a heart-to-heart talk with Atom.”

The tall giant stares down at him.

“Yeah?”

He rolls his eyes and slaps his shoulders.

“I’m telling you there’s this raging sexual tension since you two met and I and the others are so fucking tired of dealing with it so yeah, please go talk about it, for fuck’s sake.”

König pulls a face not believing a word he just said but Horangi can’t see it.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. Wish me luck.”

He begins to walk and he looks back at his friend. The other operator just shows him the middle finger. “Go get your boy!”

“Fick dich!” he replies over his shoulder waving him off.

“Mi-chin saeggi!”

The curses of his friend in his ears, König breathes in deeply and makes his way slowly to Majka’s office. He waits in front of the door for a while unsure whether Atom is still in there with his team leader.

Two minutes pass. Then five. Then ten.

He’s about to finally get a grip and knock when the door swings open and he stands tall, hoping to see Ato- and it’s Ridgeback.

“Jesus! König what the hell are you doing standing so close in front of the door?!” she yells surprised and he apologizes immediately, backing up from the doorframe. “Sorry! I wanted to uh- is Atom still in there?”

She looks him up and down, and an understanding expression grows on her face.

“No, Majka dismissed him already. He should be in the infirmary, he’s supposed to apologize to Mr. fuckface.”

König tilts his head, not quite sure if she’s meaning what he thinks she means. “The marine he beat up”, she clarifies.

“Ah, yeah. That makes sense...” he says a bit flustered. She’s about to leave when she halts and looks up at him, her eyes soft now.

“König, what that guy did? Taking pictures and spreading them around, making hateful comments? I’m not saying that Atom’s reaction was right but I can understand him. If someone did this to my wife... Majka and I are in agreement. And the higher-ups are too. We have a zero-tolerance policy for shit like that and if it happens again, come to us. We’ll handle it. Gladly.”

She smiles dangerously at the end and he nods slowly, a bit taken aback that she just casually dropped her marriage status.

“I’ll see you later, König.”

“Thank you, Ridgeback”, he says after her and she waves as she walks off.

5 minutes later he finally comes across Atom. Not in the infirmary though.

He wanted to take a quick trip to the toilet before the slightly nerve-wracking conversation when he walks into the bathroom and spots the sergeant with his back to him.

He freezes when he sees him and for a few seconds they’re quiet, the only sound is the closing door behind him.

He takes a deep breath and finally speaks:

“Atom...? Can we talk? About the uh- the photo and... that fight just now?”

Y/N is standing at the sink, cleaning up the blood on his knuckles with a towel. He turns to glance at the Austrian. "König", he acknowledges his presence before continuing to swipe at the back of his hands.

His demeanor is unlike his usual self. His posture is slightly hunched over, not standing tall as usual. The usual confidence - Conor calls it arrogance - was nowhere to be seen.

König looks at him, suddenly unsure if it really was a good idea to follow Horangi’s words.

At this moment, he’s not sure whether Atom’s agitated because he can’t see his face. But the tension in his body is telling him yes.

“That fight wasn’t just about the photo, right?”, he asks slowly, watching the sergeant with eagle eyes.

Y/N halts, stopping his mindless wiping of the blood. "Oh? Do I sense some brain cells from you König?", he jokes half-heartedly still standing with his back towards him.

König bites his lip, not liking the tone of the other’s words.

He’s already anxious as is and he feels like the Atom he’s facing right now is unknown territory. He almost feels like they’re back to zero like after their first fight when König believed he was a fucking psychopath. The operator standing at the sink feels like a stranger.

He hides his hands in his pockets, clenching and unclenching them into fists in an attempt to relax.

He waits for the h/c haired man to talk but Y/N doesn’t.

He takes a deep breath and asks quietly: “Why did you kiss me?”

The Austrian looks at the other man, he sees his back muscles tense and Atom puts down both hands on the edge of the sink, looking down. König waits with bated breath for an answer. Instead, he gets a question back.

“Did it disgust you?”

Y/N almost spats the words, they’re dripping with hostility and subconsciously, König clutches the hilt of his switch knife.

“No”, he says carefully but it seems like the sergeant misunderstands his tone and he growls: “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying!” he responds earnestly. Atom looks him in the eyes, then he stares at his hips, realizing something.

“You brought your knife?”, he asks in a low tone, his voice on edge.

König can feel the atmosphere in the room shift immediately and based on the furrow of Y/N’s eyebrows it’s not good.

“I always have it with me”, he explains, “just in case.” You taught me that he thinks. “Just in case, huh... Take it out.”

He looks at him baffled.

“No, why-” Y/N takes a step in his direction, his hand on the sheathe of his Atom Splitter at his leg. “Take it out, König.”

Fuck, he thinks. This isn’t how he expected the conversation to go. Fuck Horangi, man, fuck him.

He does as he’s told, activating the blade and Atom unsheathes his knife, twirling it in that familiar fashion while his significant grin forms on his lips. A shiver runs down König’s spine.

“Can we not do this right now?”, he pleads, holding the knife at his side, clearly not wanting to fight the sergeant. But Atom doesn’t care. He never seemed to care before either. He just attacks. Relentlessly.

By the first blow, König realizes that the other man is deadly serious about it this time. His mask gets cut, and the blade barely misses his cheek. The knot in his stomach coils.

If he’s not careful, he’s going to die. He can see the bloodlust in the e/c eyes.

König pushes Y/N’s blade away with his own. He put a lot of force behind it but the sergeant is unfazed, he attacks from a new angle, stabbing at König’s torso.

He blocks the knife but Atom gets a hit in, punching his jaw.

The bathroom is filled with pained grunts and the sound of punches but all König can hear is his messy heartbeat as adrenaline is pumped through his veins.

What ticked him off? I didn’t want this. That thought spirals in his head. I don’t want this.

Atom kicks his knee, making him falter.

Next thing he knows, he’s kneeling and Y/N’s knife is pressed against his throat. Even through the fabric of his mask, he can feel the coldness on his skin. They both pant. König looks up at the sergeant, his face is blank, the smirk gone.

Atom grabs his hair through the fabric at the back of his head, pulling it back harshly. He gasps alarmed, dropping his knife, and he searches the e/c eyes. They stare down at him, pupils blown wide.

“Y/N”, he whispers. The man begins to smile ominously. “You make my blood boil, König.”

His face changes when he hears those words.

The nervousness of having that knife to his throat when Atom’s eyes look dead like this is still fluttering in his chest. But there’s also something else. A knot forms in his lower stomach and his eyes land on the white band-aid on the sergeant’s throat.

Y/N continues: “Only you get me this excited... Makes me wanna fight all day long. What am I supposed to do?” He tilts his head.

König gulps and watches with eagle eyes how the h/c haired man uses his blade to lift the seam of his mask and flip it over his head, exposing his scarred face. A burst of anxiety and self-consciousness rushes through his veins as those e/c eyes study his appearance. A glint appears in them.

“Do you like our fights?” Atom asks, his voice slightly hoarse as he presses the blade to König’s cheek, tracing one of the pale scars with it.

The tone of his voice is light but he can feel the significance of that question, he sees the expectant look in Y/N’s eyes.

He nods. “Yeah”, he mutters slowly, staring up at him, “I do.”

Atom’s brows lift and his smile widens, showing the white of his teeth and his gums. “Really?”, he prods. He nods again.

He can see Y/N debate something, emotions flit across his face that he hasn’t ever seen before on him and the knot of anxiety in his chest unfurls, making space for something else. Hope, anticipation.

“Atom...” he begins and Y/N takes this as his cue to kiss König without hesitation. It takes him by surprise again but this time he’s prepared to breathe through his nose and he actually responds to the kiss.

Atom’s grip on his hair is tight and he holds his head in place as he practically devours König. The intensity makes him gasp and Y/N uses it to push his tongue into his mouth, exploring every inch mercilessly without allowing any pushback.

The sergeant kisses like he fights. Aggressively and intensely. He loves it. If he were touched carefully at this very moment, he would probably dislike it. After all, the ferocity is what he always enjoys about their fights.

König allows his eyes to close, leaning into the sensation, slowly getting lost, when he feels a sharp pain and tastes iron in his mouth. Atom fucking bit his tongue!

He grunts in protest but the other man doesn’t care at all. They part, their breaths mingling and Y/N groans: “You taste so fucking good, König.”

He looks up at him, seeing the intense desire burning in the e/c eyes and certainty washes over him.

He pushes himself off the ground, forcing the sergeant to let go of his hair. He towers over him and for a second they just stare at each other before König moves, his hands pushing Y/N back until he collides with the bathroom wall.

He dips his head and their lips connect again, the taste of iron intermingling. He can hear the clatter of Atom’s knife on the ground before two hands touch him, igniting a fire wherever they roam his skin.

Y/N tugs and prods at his clothes, pulling his shirt out of his pants to stick his hands underneath, and in the next second König can feel fingernails dig into his back. He growls and the sergeant smiles into their kiss. “’re always so aggressive-” König complains breathlessly.

Atom snorts. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.” His lips trail down his neck, biting and sucking and König presses his thigh between Y/N’s legs in response, getting a low groan out of the other man.

It sends a spark through his body and his mouth twitches as Atom grinds against his thigh. “Y/N-” he warns but he gets interrupted when the flush of a toilet can be heard.

Atom stops moving, his hand halting mid-air, only inches away from König’s belt buckle. “It’s the women’s bathroom”, he says, trying to calm the Austrian down before touching his belt. But it sobers König up a bit and he leans back, stopping his hands.

“We should probably stop here. It would be a bit awkward if someone walks in.”

Y/N clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Let them watch.”

He smirks and they look at each other. König’s hair is absolutely dishevelled, his face red from their make-out session. Atom doesn’t look any better, his eyes still hold the glimmering desire.

He breathes out slowly and begins to smile.

“We should continue elsewhere.” He licks his lips, the bloody taste still in his mouth but unlike before this day he likes it.

Atom follows his tongue’s movement with eagle eyes. “Yeah, we definitely should.” He pauses for a second, disappointment evident on his face.

“I can’t right now though.” He sounds grumpy.

König tilts his head, confused, staring down at him. “Why?”

“I have to clean the bathrooms as punishment.”

He blinks and follows Y/N’s eyes toward the mop in the corner.

“Will you help me?” The sergeant bats his eyelashes like the women who try to flirt with König at the local bars. He laughs, walking backward, putting his hands up.

“I just remembered I have something to do.”

E/c eyes darken. “Come on! Be good and help your boyfriend!”

His heart leaps. “Oh, so we’re boyfriends now? I don’t remember saying yes to this agreement.”

Y/N glowers at him, picking up his knife from the ground.

“It was a joke!” he protests but the man strides up to him, pointing the blade at his throat. At this point, it’s getting old.

“Say it.”

He snorts. Atom stares up at him, his dead expression suddenly looking less intimidating and more so somewhat adorable. He tilts his head, provocatively.

“What?”

“You know what.”

König grins and grabs Y/N’s hand holding the knife.

“I’ll let you be my boyfriend.”

Atom only raises an eyebrow and he guides the sergeant’s hand and knife away from his throat before dipping down again and stealing a kiss from his lips. A soft one this time. One that makes König’s heart swell and flutter from happiness.

Y/N closes his eyes, enjoying the moment and they stay closed even after they part. König coughs, smirking.

“Anyways, I can’t help you with the cleaning sorry.”

Atom opens his eyes wide and a breathy indignant laugh escapes him as he watches the Austrian turn around and leave the bathroom whistling, mirroring the many times Y/N did it to him. Payback’s a bitch, he thinks.

“You forgot your knife! König! Come back!” Atom shouts his tone almost pleading but König is already out the door and he laughs and yells over his shoulder:

“You can bring it to me tonight, mein Schatz!”

___

Translations (freely mostly)

Ja, eher nicht - German: “Yes, better not”

Fick dich - German: “Fuck you”

mi-chin saeggi  미친새끼 - Korean: “Crazy son of a bitch”

mein Schatz - German: “my dear, my love” lit. “my treasure”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare II #cod:mw2 #cod:mwii #cod #cod könig #könig #könig x reader #könig x male reader #x male reader #x reader #reader #kortac #kortac reader #cod horangi #calisto #zeus #stiletto #my own dumb incorrect quote makes an appearance lmaoo #male reader #fanficsforheartandsoul

[shaguro]

⤿ synposis: you can't ever leave the house without giving toji a kiss good-bye.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: fluff fluff fluff. (toji x fem!reader, established relationship, pet names used ( girl, baby, doll) toji's just in love idk. i wrote the majority of this at like 1 am nd barely proofread!!) wc ⇀ around 0.7k!

"girl", toji drawls, cerulean orbs trained on your figure by the front door. he’s manspread on your living room sofa, sitcom on the tv screen long forgotten as he turns his body around, all his attention on you and only you. “aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’?”

“hmm? what are you talking about, baby?” you keep your head low while you fumble with your stilettos, a hand on the wall for balance as you finally slip it onto your stocking-clad foot, the last step before you head out for your shift, the sun just peeking over the horizon.

of course, you know exactly what toji’s talking about. it doesn’t matter where you’re going or whether you’ll be back in ten minutes or a few hours, whether he’s in deep sleep or in the middle of an intense workout session — toji expects a kiss good-bye before you leave the apartment you share. he’s real strict about it too, he doesn’t accept any excuses, no if’s, an’s or buts.

does knowing all this stop you from testing the dark-haired man? absolutely not.

“i packed my work-bag last night and i have the car keys right here, looks like i’ve got-“

“now you know that’s not what i’m talkin’ about,” toji deadpans, completely unamused. barely keeping up the act, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling. “don’t play dumb with me, baby.”

you do just that — tilt your head all cute and innocent as you furrow your brows, crossing your arms against your blouse. “i’m being serious though! i dont know what you’re talking about, i swear.”

“girl, please.” toji scoffs, scarred lip almost turned in a scowl. he’s always so sassy when you start to annoy him. “ya really stress me out, y’know that?” in a quick motion, he stands up, stretching out his long arms before he turns to face you. “you don’t know, huh? c’mere and let me remind you, then.”

toji’s tilts his head down. with low eyes and a coy smirk on his handsome face, he beckons you close with a single finger.

you can’t hide your smile now, it spreads ear to ear as you bounce over to him, the click clacking of your heels resounding on the hardwood floor until you reach the plush carpet where toji stood. he wastes no time, cupping his hands on the globes of your ass and tugs your body flush against his. toji’s so warm — he’s shirtless and all his sculpted muscles are on display, flexing when your cold hands glide across his pecs to snake around his neck.

toji leans down and his plump pink lips meet your glossed ones, the strawberry-flavored gloss sat sweet on his tastebuds but he prefers your taste instead, sliding his tongue through your slightly-parted lips with hopes to satisfy his glutinous craving and he’s not disappointed when your tongues mingle. “mm.” never tired of that saccharine taste, toji grunts into your mouth, taking his time kissing you — oddly soft and gentle.

toji pulls away and your lips part, only separated by a string of sticky saliva before he goes back in, giving you one, two, three quick pecks before he’s had his fill.

soft pants fill the air as toji holds you close, foreheads touching. “that jog your memory?”

toji rolls his eyes when you hum happy ‘mmhm!’ in response, hands rubbing on his broad shoulders, your fingertips ghosting the sharp line of his jaw. “you’re a pain in my ass…” he huffs, and you burst into a fit of giggles at his annoyed expression, unable to contain it anymore. it’s just so adorable — an infectious melody that toji prays he’ll continue to hear, for many years to come.

“lucky y’er so fuckin’ pretty . . next time i won’t go so easy on ya.” as if to seal the promise, he lands a heavy smack! on your ass. “toji!” you squeal out, the force of it propels you forward, temple thumping on his toned chest.

it was his turn to chuckle now, soothing the blow with a gentle rub of his palm prior to kissing the crown of your head. “now that i got my kisses . . s’time for you to head out, doll. don’t wanna be late again, hm?”

i'm finally back after disappearing for like a thousand years yayyy (don't beat me up yall pls)

#toji x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #jjk fluff #shanti's stories⋆˙⟡♡ #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff

[wonlovie]

— RACING, BEATING.

You didn’t mean to show up to one of the most important meetings of your year completely hungover. No, in reality you would have preferred being sober when you met the man your father was marrying you off to. But how could you resist those dark eyes and plump lips that tempted you on your final night of freedom?

— starring. illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader

— tags. arranged marriage!au but they kind of not really hate each other for like one scene, reader is touch starved af, smut [mild public sex (car, elevator), vaginal fingering, oral (m. receiving), face-fucking, establishment of a safeword but it's never used, degrading (use of whore and stupid bitch) [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 11.9k

— notes. there was a whole other part to this but i kept rewriting it until i could not anymore 💀 if i do finally get it written the way i want to, i might release it as a part two to this 👀👀 lmk if u'd be interested!!

You were used to playing pretend. As the daughter of an influential CEO, you were born in the spotlight, never knowing what living without a camera pointed at you was like. By seven years old, you were a master at faking a smile. A gentle smile, never too broad because people would call you an overachiever but never too little, or you’d be caught up in unhappy scandals. 

By fifteen years old, your father had announced your title as the face of his company and your ‘normal’ life as you knew it was gone forever. You no longer had time for actual studies nor for the fruitless relationships you had gathered. Instead, you spent your hours practicing your runway walk and your model face. Almost every wall in your lofty house was lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, never allowing you for a second to forget how you looked to others.

Your father was never one to miss out on making money, priding himself on his cynical and opportunistic ways of life. If something could be monetized, he was always the first one to come up with a foolproof plan to capitalize on it. Which is why you weren’t surprised when he announced to you that you were to be married off to the heir of a big company whose name you saw almost everywhere. 

Years spent watching your peers grow up normally, studying hard and partying harder, left behind a bitter jealousy that you could never voice. For once, you wanted to feel normal. For once, you wanted to feel like your father’s daughter and not his employee. For once, you wanted to forget the world and experience true freedom. 

That was how you found yourself sitting on an uncomfortable barstool, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop with a glass of some mystery drink hanging from your fingertips. The dress you wore stuck to your skin, showing off more of your body than you were ever allowed to in public. There was a dull burn in your calves from the stilettos you wore, but you paid no mind to them as you sipped gingerly on the liquor.

Tomorrow, you would be meeting the man your father was giving you away to. You knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was one of your father’s business partner’s son. You silently tipped up your drink, a silent toast to your last night of freedom. Knocking your head back, you winced at the unfamiliar burn as you emptied the glass.

When you ungracefully dropped the empty glass onto the counter, red lips stained the rim. “Another, miss?” you vaguely heard the bartender ask. You nodded without thinking, eyes staring forward without focus. Your cheeks felt warm from the few drinks you’d had since you sat down. As the bartender poured you another drink, you allowed your gaze to drift, scanning the room in curiosity.

Red lights lit up the space, random spotlights moving about from the ceiling. The music played loud enough to leave a slight ringing in your ear, your bones vibrating to the beat. Hundreds of people flooded the floor, you noted. Some pairs danced against each other provocatively, intriguing you as you eyed a girl making out with a taller man over her shoulder. Some people danced alone, mouthing the words to a song you didn’t recognize.

As you looked around, your eyes met a stranger’s from across the bar. He sat alone, unlike the many other patrons of the club, a half-emptied pint in front of him. From where you were, you could make out the details of his attire—a dark blazer that fit snugly over the expanse of his shoulders. He wore a silk button-up, rudely unbuttoned low, allowing you to see the curve of his collarbones down to the lines of his chest.

When your eyes flit up to glance at his face, he was already staring at you. His expression, which you can only describe as alluring, prompted you to suck your bottom lip under your teeth, gently biting at the skin. Dark eyes watched you from across the room, looking you up and down slowly before settling on your face. You watched carefully as a tongue flicked out to lick his pink lips before the corners pulled up into a smirk. He rose a brow at you, hair pushed back enough to let you see his silent beckon.

You mirrored his expression, taking a sip of your drink as you stared at him through the glass. The man held a hand up, showing off silver rings wrapped around his slender fingers that made you want to sin. Clearing your throat, you looked away and down at your drink, amber liquid sloshing around in the glass. Before you could even take another swig, a shot glass slid in front of you, its contents almost spilling out.

Looking up in confusion, you called over the bartender, who’d already turned his back to you. “Excuse me? I didn’t order a shot,” you yelled over the blaring music. The bartender glanced at you for a second before nodding his head in the direction of the man who, when you looked, was already gone. The bartender continued, already pouring a drink for another.

Knitting your brows together, you brought the shot glass up to your nose, scrunching it when the strong smell of vodka invaded your senses. A cough tickled your throat as you held the offending shot glass away. Your eyes danced over the many heads in the room, but the mystery man was nowhere in sight. Heaving a sigh, you tipped your head back, swallowing the bitter liquid as quickly as you could. Wincing slightly, you let out a breath as you placed the glass next to the other one.

“Atta’ girl,” a smooth voice crooned in your ear, tickling your skin and leaving behind goosebumps. A hand reached around, grazing the tops of your thighs as its owner spun your barstool around. Face to face with the man of the night, your breath hitched as you found yourself inches away from him. You wondered if he could hear your racing heartbeat over the pounding music.

Up close, you could see his lip ring, plump pink lips pushing against the silver as he peered down at you. His hand moved from the barstool to your waist, his warmth spreading over your skin like wildfire. His other hand leaned on the counter behind you, surrounding you in his essence. His attention was overwhelming as you caught his eyes glimpsing down at your lips before dropping to the curve of your breasts under your dress.

Your hands hovered over your lap, clenching and unclenching as you tried to figure out what to do with them. Keeping eye contact with you, the man leaned forward until he was a hair away, closer than any other man had been. “I’ve never seen you here before,” he spoke lowly, your ears just barely grabbing onto his words. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing stuck at the bar, hm?” 

You bit your lip, his eyes quickly darting down. “Just… enjoying the night,” you mumbled, resisting the urge to lean forward. The air in your lungs felt trapped as your mind filled with incoherent thoughts. 

The man tilted his head at you, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he bore his gaze into you. The hand on your waist pulled you forward until you were almost pressed against him, his thumb rubbing up and down over the fabric of your dress. “Didn’t seem like you were enjoying it,” he said, his breath fanning over your neck as he leaned to whisper in your ear. “I know how you can really start enjoying your night, sweetheart.”

When his lips brushed against your jugular, you had to stop yourself from throwing your head back, the simple touch sending you haywire. “Yeah?” your voice came out breathy, your hands finally settling to rest on his chest. Bent over you like this, his shirt rode lower than ever, letting you see his chiselled torso. You brushed a thumb over his skin, burning to the touch as he leaned back to look you in the eye. “How so?”

He smirked, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He pulled you closer by the chin, using his thumb to pull at your bottom lip gently. Your heart raced as he came closer, his nose nudging your own as your eyes subconsciously started to close. “Just let me take care of you,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours. The cool metal of his lip ring sent a shiver down your spine, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him as his grin seemingly grew. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?”

It didn’t take much convincing for you to follow the man out of the crowded club, guided by a hand on the wrist. With as many drinks as you had in you, it might’ve been worrying with the ease with which he was able to take you by the hand. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care as excitement bubbled in your lower abdomen. 

Even his back was attractive, all broad shoulders and straight lines. A few earrings hooped around his ears, glinting under the strobe lights. When he pulled you outside, the cool night air was starkly different from the hot temperature inside. Goosebumps rose on your bare arms, causing the man to glance back at you with a worried look. Not another word was said as he brought you to a car you’d never seen anyone actually drive around town.

It was a bold red colour, something that reminded you of a crimson fire. You blinked when he opened the passenger side door for you as it swung upwards. The car was low, and you felt a bit awkward climbing in with your stilettos, but the man waited patiently until you were inside before closing the door. You watched as he walked around the car to the driver’s side, the head-up display blinking on the windshield when he started the ignition.

“Wow,” you mumbled dumbly, easily getting comfortable on the leather seat. He spared you an amused look, one eyebrow raised, paired with a smug smile. Leaning over, your breath hitched as he pulled the seatbelt over you, the click of its buckle cutting through the silence. He stayed there for a moment, hovering over you with eyes so intense you felt your mouth dry out. 

“So fucking pretty,” he whispered, finally leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was aggressive, his calloused hand cupping your face and forcing you closer. Your teeth clashed as he licked into your mouth, but the searing feeling in your stomach made it impossible for you to care. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan as his hand wandered down to your outer thigh. His fingers danced across your skin, pushing your skirt up until your black lace panties were exposed. 

You threw your head back as he pressed his thumb against your folds, feeling how wet you’d gotten over the course of your earlier conversation. He breathed harshly, attaching his lips to your neck as he grazed a finger up and down your clothed cunt. You had no doubt that by morning, you would be painted with bruises. The thought was exciting to you.

He slipped a finger underneath the fabric of your panties, groaning when he felt your slick coat him in an instant. “So wet for me,” he almost growled, pulling his hand out despite your whines of disapproval. He pulled back, eyes flitting over your heaving form before settling into his seat. His lips were smudged red with your lipstick, and you found it unfair at how hot it was.

He was quick to pull away from the curb, the engine roaring to life as he drove down the busy street. It felt uncomfortably sticky between your thighs, rubbing them together. He was quick to grasp your thigh, pulling your legs open as he drove. While the hand on your thigh was still, his impatience showed in the hand that held the steering wheel, his finger tapping against it whenever he’d hit a red light.

You weakly moaned when his hand drifted higher, his pinky brushing against your core. You spread your legs further, urging him to do more than just light touches, but he didn’t give in to your silent pleas. The ride to, what you presumed was his place, was unbearably long as he continued to tease you. He would grip your thigh tightly, his rings pressing into your skin, and suddenly move up to flick at your covered clit. His sporadic movements left you a whining mess, your heart pounding against your ribcage. “Need you so badly,” you whined, flushing in embarrassment at how you sounded. 

He scoffed, scraping his nail over your thigh, making you jump. “I can tell,” he said, his tone degrading as he pinched your skin. “Whining like a whore in my front seat, like it’ll make me fuck you any faster.” You gasped, his words going straight to your cunt. You could feel yourself get wetter, your panties sticking to your folds agonizingly. 

You bit your lip as he pulled into an underground parking lot, the orange-hued lights casting an intimidating shadow over his face. When he finally parked, you realized he had brought you to a fancy apartment building. The parking lot was empty, not a soul in sight. Despite his words, he still opened your door for you, pulling you out of the car roughly. When the door closed, he pressed you against it, forcing his lips against yours as he ground his hips into yours. You moaned into his mouth at how hard he’d gotten, gripping at his blazer with shaking hands.

His kiss left you breathless, and you found that you really liked the feeling of his hands harshly holding your hips, keeping you from moving too far from him. You tongued at his piercing, taking his bottom lip into your mouth as he moved to push your dress up again. Pulling away, he was quick to kiss your neck as your eyes darted around the empty lot.

“Not here,” you gasped when he bit at the skin under your ear, “what if someone…”

He bit down harder, making you whine. “Let them see then,” he spat. “Let them see how much of a slut you are for me, sweetheart.” You made a noise of disagreement, causing him to pull away. You looked like a mess in heels, hair tousled, no longer in neat waves as you had them before, and makeup smudged. The glassy look in your eyes made him grin at you, a menacing curve of his pink lips. 

He grabbed your wrist again, tugging you to the underground elevator as his car beeped behind you. The few seconds it took for the elevator to reach the parking lot felt agonizingly long, your legs shaking in anticipation.

The second the doors opened, he had you pressed against the frigid elevator walls, his hand blindly reaching to touch one of the top buttons. He pushed your dress up past your hips, fingering the lace undergarment between his thumb and pointer. Without wasting a second, he tugged. The sound of fabric ripping took you out of your trance as you realized he had completely torn them off you.

“Hey,” your voice was clipped as you frowned. “Those were expensive.”

He rolled his eyes at you, tucking the tattered fabric into his back pocket. “I’ll buy you a new set,” he said, annoyed that you had interrupted him. “Now shut up, princess.” He took your lips again, his hand moving to wrap loosely around your neck. He swiped his tongue over your lip as his free hand grasped at your hips.

“Fuck,” you whined highly when he traced a line up your cunt, collecting your juices on his fingertip. He made quick work with you, swiping over your clit with his thumb as he pushed two fingers into your sopping hole. The hand around your neck pressed down lightly, sending your senses into overdrive as he kissed you again. 

“My name’s Heeseung,” he said against your lips. “Moan it for me tonight, yeah?” You nodded feebly as you spouted your own name in a mess of stutters.

When the elevator beeped, indicating that you were on the designated floor, he unwillingly pulled away from you. He stared at you darkly, pupils blown as he sucked his fingers clean. Your eyes trained on the way his tongue flicked at his rings, your slick disappearing into his mouth. You pulled your dress down as he guided you out with a hand on the small of your back.

When you made it into his apartment, you didn’t have time to gawk at how fancy it was, decked out with marble tiles and sleek glass light fixtures. As the door closed behind him, he pressed himself against your behind, grinding into your ass as he groaned lowly in your ear. His fingers dragged the fabric of your dress up to your waist, leaving your lower half exposed as Heeseung left dainty kisses against your bare shoulder.

Pulling the dress up and off, he ushered you further into the apartment, pushing open the door to his bedroom. He dropped the dress in the corner of the room before turning you around to face him. He took your lips, pressing deeply against you as he felt you up. His hands roamed as he licked into your mouth, one hand cupping and groping your left breast while the other shifted downwards. Resting on your hip, he brought you closer to him, pressing your bare cunt against his boner.

You reached down, palming his hard-on through his pants. He threw his head back in a silent moan, allowing you to continue with your ministrations. You hastily unbuckled his belt, tossing it on the floor next to your dress. Pushing his pants and boxers down past his knees, you almost moaned at the sight of his pretty cock.

It was long and thick, twitching as it wept pre-cum at the tip. It was a pretty flushed colour, enticing you closer. Looking up at him through your lashes, you watched Heeseung’s reaction as you licked the mushroom head gingerly. You scrunched up your nose at the bitter taste, but Heeseung’s wanton expression urged you to continue.

Taking the whole tip in your mouth, you sucked gently. You could feel yourself gush at the sound of his loud moan, pressing your thighs together as you tried to take more of him. He grazed the back of your throat before you could even take half of him. The sight of you struggling on his length made him feel impossibly hard, his ringed hand moving to grasp at your hair. Determined to make him feel good, you traced one of the veins that stretched along the length of his shaft with your fingernail before taking his cock in your fist.

Bobbing your head slowly, you matched your pass with your hand wherever your mouth couldn’t reach. Heeseung breathed heavily at the feeling of your hot cavern taking him in, your tongue swirling around his tip in a way that drove him up the wall. He could barely imagine how being in your cunt would feel, the mental image making him thrust unexpectedly against you.

When you gagged at the suddenness, Heeseung groaned, using your fisted hair to guide you up and down his shaft. “Fuck, baby,” he sighed, head thrown back and eyes scrunched in pleasure as you gained speed. “That mouth of yours is so fucking perfect. Like it was made for my cock.” He hissed when his head pressed against the back of your throat, holding it there until you swallowed around him, tears welling in your eyes.

The sounds that you were making would normally disgust you, the wet gags and spit dripping down your front as you struggled to take his girth, but with Heeseung, it only turned you on more. You rubbed your thighs together, feeling your slick coat your puffy folds.

Using his other hand to grip at your hair, he held you still as he fucked into your mouth, jaw agape as he watched you suckle on his length. You looked like the embodiment of sin, on your knees and taking his cock so well. He rubbed at the smudged mascara underneath your eyes, only making it spread as tears dripped down your face. “Shit,” he mumbled, gripping your hair tighter. “Fuck, I wanna make a mess on you, baby. Can I?” 

You nodded the best you could, the thought of him cumming all over you making you impossibly wet. Swearing loudly, Heeseung pulled himself out of your mouth, using his hand to force your mouth open. You stuck your tongue out as he pumped himself desperately, chasing his release as he bore into your eyes. You gasped when he came, ropes of his cum shooting over your face and tongue.

He watched intently as you swallowed whatever landed in your mouth, wiping at the cum that dripped down your cheeks. “Get on the bed,” he said gruffly, not wanting to go another second without feeling your cunt drip around him.

You wasted no time in following his instructions, scooting further up the bed as he crawled on after you. He spread your legs roughly, situating himself between your thighs. Heeseung leaned forward, kissing you again as one of his hands rested around your throat. As he kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, his free hand traced down the side of your body.

Without warning, he touched your core, collecting your wetness on his fingertips as he rubbed up and down your cunt. You moaned loudly as he switched between teasing your entrance and swiping across your clit. “You’re so fucking wet, princess,” he groaned, kissing you deeply as he finally thrust two fingers into your hole.

You cried out into the kiss, arching your back up and into him as you held on. You gripped at his bicep that flexed with each movement, his fingers curling up into you. It didn’t take long for him to find your G-spot, rubbing dedicatedly against the spongey walls of your cunt. He sped up, thrusting his fingers into you with ease, slipping around your juices.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you almost screamed as you neared your orgasm, “I’m so, so close, please—”

He pulled his fingers out, making you whine in disapproval, your eyes opening wide as you begged him to keep touching you. He ignored your silent pleas, taking his soaked fingers into his mouth as he had before. You watched, in a trance, as he swirled his tongue around his slender digits, the sight making you squirm in anticipation.

He reached over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a few packages. You glanced at them through your ditzy stupor, surprised to see several condom wrappers. Upon closer inspection, you realized they all had different flavours. “Pick one,” he instructed in an almost joking manner as if he didn’t just bring you to the edge with his fingers.

You contemplated just grabbing one at random, not wanting to wait any longer to feel him inside you. Reaching for one, you subconsciously made a face when you read what flavour it was.

“Not a fan of strawberry?” he asked rhetorically as he took the wrapper from you and tossed it back in the drawer. Impatient, he picked one and threw the rest back where he got them. You watched with intrigue as he opened the package with his teeth before rolling it onto his already hard cock.

“Hey,” he mumbled once he got the condom fully rolled on. “If you want me to stop at any moment, just say… Bambi, okay?”

You looked at him warily. “Bambi?”

He didn’t elaborate any further, pressing the tip of his cock against your folds. He rubbed the head through your slick, bumping against your clit before pressing into your tight entrance. He groaned in unison with you at the intrusion. You winced at the stretch, shoving your face into one of his pillows.

When he bottomed out, he pressed a sweet kiss against your cheek before pulling back and slamming into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you gasped for air, his sudden harsh thrusts surprising you. He breathed heavily as he moved, draping your legs over his shoulders as he leaned into you. 

“So deep,” you cried, squirming at the stimulation. “Fuck, Heeseung!”

He moaned at the sound of his name on your tongue, leaning down to kiss you. The position only made him go deeper, and you struggled to kiss him properly, mind foggy with pleasure. His balls slapped against your ass, echoing against the walls. The sound of your sex was burned into your mind, Heeseung’s breathy groans and moans of your name bound to haunt your dreams from now on.

Heeseung pulled out and flipped you onto your side, re-entering you with ease. The position was something you’d never done before as Heeseung held your leg against his torso as he thrust harshly. He moaned out your name as he closed his eyes, as lost in the pleasure as you were.

“‘M gonna cum,” you warned, your voice high and shaking as you reached down to circle your clit. At the sight of you touching yourself, Heeseung sighed with rapture, trying hard to get you to the edge. 

“Cum around me, baby,” he hushed as his thrusts grew harder, rougher. “Come on, you can do it.”

At his words, it felt like a cord had snapped inside of you, and you cried out as you came. He helped you through your orgasm, thrusting shallowly as your body shook and jolted. Once you had calmed down, he pulled out and fisted himself over the condom, the lube mixed with your wetness making it easy for his hand to slip up and down.

You watched, exhausted, as he leaned over you, a look of concentration on his face as he got off on your body. White filled the condom, low groans of your name reverberating in his chest as he collapsed on the bed next to you. You barely processed him standing to throw out the used rubber or how he came back with a warm towel and wiped you down gently. 

Your eyes closed, and you felt yourself succumb to slumber.

When you awoke the next morning, you swore. Head pounding, you pressed your face into your pillow in annoyance. Of course, you would be having the worst hangover of your life. You didn’t even want to think about what your father would say if he knew you’d be walking into the meeting in a few hours, completely hungover.

You paused, pressing your face further into the pillow. The smell was unfamiliar, you noted. Not a second later, you sat up, eyes wide. Your lips parted in disbelief as you remembered where you were, memories of last night quickly returning to you. Holding the blanket up to your bare chest, you willed yourself to look over at the other side of the bed. 

Heeseung lay there, rolled over onto his stomach, his cheek resting against the pillow as he slept. His hair was messy, sticking up in different directions almost cutely. You made a face when you caught a glimpse of angry red scratches down his back.

He looked unnervingly peaceful, considering the stampede your heart was experiencing. You swore under your breath again, quietly stepping out of the bed. The floorboard creaked underneath your weight, your head snapping back to see if the noise woke him up. Fortunately, he stayed blissfully in rest. You held your breath as you collected your discarded dress and your heels, also picking up the silk button-up you had thrown off of him last night. 

He’s rich, clearly, you justified, taking a brief look around the room. His closet was cracked open, revealing several more expensive-looking clothes. Though, in your haste to make it to the bedroom, you didn’t get a good look at the rest of his apartment. You knew that it was huge if the building’s name wasn’t an indicator already. He won’t miss one shirt.

Not wanting to risk waking him up, you tip-toed out of the room before getting dressed in the hallway. You slipped the button-up on top of your dress and made your way to the front door, heels in hand. As you pushed the door open, you panicked when it beeped in alarm. With haste, you ran outside and closed the door before Heeseung could catch you sneaking out.

Without bothering to put your heels on, you booked it to the elevator, making it inside in time for you to hear Heeseung call your name. With wide eyes, you pressed the close doors button more times than necessary, only relaxing when they finally did close.

You opened your phone, only to see a text from your father asking where you were. Making an excuse, you used the reflective elevator walls to fix your appearance.

If anyone saw you, they would be none the wiser to the previous night. The automatic doors to your father’s company opened as you approached, a gust of air from the air conditioning pushing your freshly styled hair out of your face. Any marks that littered across your neck and shoulders were expertly covered up, and your eyebags were concealed just as well.

The sound of your heels, which your father insisted you wore in public, in the otherwise quiet lobby gathered the attention of the gaggle of people. Having so many eyes on you didn’t bother you as much as it had before, something you’re grateful to have gotten used to. Smiling politely at the pair of receptionists, you were quick to make your way up to your father’s office.

The elevator dinged, and you couldn’t help but think back to last night. The feeling of Heeseung’s warmth pressed against you as he fingered you and touched you was a thrill you don’t think you could forget if you tried. Clearing your throat, you looked at yourself in the mirrored walls, another habit you couldn’t get rid of. 

Deeming yourself as presentable, you stepped out of the elevator and into your father’s large office. He sat at his desk, typing away at his computer. If he heard you come in, which he must’ve, he didn’t react. His graying hair stood out under the sunlight that the floor-to-ceiling windows let in. The glasses perched on his nose bridge threatened to fall down as his fingers tapped relentlessly. 

“Good morning, Father,” you greeted, sitting down at the chair adjacent to his desk. He didn’t look up. “I’m a little early.” You crossed your legs, resting clasped hands on top of your knees. It didn’t surprise you when he didn’t say anything in reply, so you opted to look out the window. Being on the top floor, you could see most of the town. You could watch the bustling traffic and pedestrian-filled streets for hours, the busyness of life fascinating to you.

You weren’t able to stare for too long before a familiar ding interrupted your daydreams. You straightened your back, facing forward as your father stood to greet the newcomer. Unlike when you came in, your father straightened out his blazer with a warm smile, something that looked foreign to you. You watched quietly as he manoeuvred around the desk to formally greet the guest.

“Ah,” your father greeted placatingly, his timber voice filling the space.. “Lee Heeseung, it is great to finally meet you. I have heard much about you from your father.”

You felt your heart stop when you heard his name. Unwilling to turn around, you stared into the window’s faint reflection in hopes of seeing the man’s face. Maybe your Heeseung wasn’t the only Lee Heeseung in town. Surely, it wasn’t too uncommon of a name because there was no way that your one-night stand just happened to be your husband-to-be.

If your heart stopped when you heard his name, your soul left your body when you heard him talk. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, sir. I am honoured that you picked me out of all of your daughter’s candidates.”

As subtly as you could, you slapped a hand over your mouth.

You heard their footsteps grow closer. “Well, please have a seat,” your father ushered. “She’s right here. You ought to meet your future bride, right?” With each of their perfectly synced steps, you could imagine another foot of your grave being dug. “Heeseung, this is my daughter.” You inhaled sharply and took his cue to stand.

When you turned on your heel, you were sure that Heeseung’s shocked expression matched your own. Recognition burst behind his eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses, and his lips—which you noticed was missing its piercing—parted in shock. You silently willed him to keep quiet about the night before, looking at him with widened eyes and a painfully fake smile.

“It’s you,” he blurted out, pointing at you with the slightest bend of his elbow. If you weren’t in front of your father, you could have smacked him over the head. “I was wondering where you went.”

Internally screaming, you put on a faux confused expression to match your father’s. “You two are acquainted already?” he asked, looking at you for confirmation. You were quick to shake your head no, glaring at Heeseung when your father looked away.

Bowing your head slightly, you smiled up at Heeseung as you would any other businessman. “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you lied through your teeth, desperately hoping he would catch on. “We have never met before today. But it is nice to meet you.” You held out a hand for him to shake, which he did after fumbling for a bit.

Heeseung looked at you with a confused gaze, eyebrows knitted together before a lightbulb went off. “Right,” he smiled graciously, putting on a persona completely different from the one you met before. “My apologies. It is nice to meet you. I’m Lee Heeseung.” Letting go of your hand, he nodded when you introduced yourself. 

Clapping his hands together, your father grinned widely at the both of you. “Now, I have some work to tend to, but the two of you can continue to get to know each other downstairs.” Wanting nothing more than to escape the stuffy room, you agreed stiffly. “I’ll have the wedding planners contact you both later on.” Your father nodded at Heeseung once more before returning to his desk, the sound of his noisy keyboard filling the room again.

Heeseung followed you out after saying goodbye to your father, standing far too close to you in the elevator. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” he drawled out, voice dry. “The very woman who I happened to have a fun night with, only to wake up with her nowhere in sight, is the very woman whom I’m marrying.” He bore his gaze into you as he leaned against the elevator wall, his prim posture long gone. “How exciting, is it not?”

“Please, Heeseung, do not bring up last night.” Your voice was terse as you pinched your nose bridge in frustration, your ears and face warming up. 

Heeseung raised a brow at your request, pushing off the elevator wall and stepping close to you. Your eyes widened as he backed you into the wall, eyes darting to the LED screen that showed which floor you were on. If anyone were to need the elevator, they would catch Heeseung pinning you to the wall, and you would have no excuse for it. “Come on, princess,” his voice lifted into a tease, “that’s not how you were begging me last night.”

You groaned, dropping your head and hitting it against the wall behind you. “Heeseung,” you hissed, glaring at him. You tried very hard to ignore the way that his glasses framed his face nicely and made him even more handsome, which you didn’t think was possible. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Do not bring up last night unless you want me to castrate you.”

Heeseung pouted at you, resting a hand on his chest as though you’d mortally wounded him. “But if you castrate me, how am I supposed to please—”

“Heeseung!”

He laughed openly at you, shoulders shaking as his lips split open into a grin. “You’re so easy to rile up, princess.” He leaned toward you, hovering himself above you by resting his forearm against the wall. You glanced at the screen again, silently cursing your father for owning a building with slow elevators. “I don’t know what’s so bad about people finding out that we’re—how do you say it?—well acquainted.”

You breathed out in annoyance at his ignorance. “Did you hit your head? I don’t know about you, Heeseung, but I do care about how the public perceives me.” You jabbed a finger at his chest, though it had no effect on him. “If people find out, then…” You trailed off, your brows furrowing as you looked at the ground, the recently shined tiles sparkingly under the fluorescent lights.

“Then?”

You bit your lip, thinking back at your father and his cold demeanour. “Look,” you started, shoulders deflating. “If my father finds out that I went to that club at all and had sex with some guy that I didn’t know… He wouldn’t react well.” You spoke lowly, the topic dampening your mood immensely.

“Ouch,” Heeseung joked, tilting his head at you. “So, I’m just some guy to you?”

You deadpanned at him, unimpressed with the small snippet of information he chose to focus on. “You get what I mean, asshole. So please, just stop bringing it up. At least, not in front of him.” Your faith in his compassion was dwindling by the second, and his silence wasn’t doing much to help. When the elevator doors opened, you were ready to give up and began formulating an apology to your father for your behaviour.

Before you could duck under his arm to make your way out, he laid a gentle hand on your wrist. “Okay, okay. I won’t talk about it again. You have my word, princess.” You balked at his sudden sincerity, but before you could even utter a thank you, he opened his mouth again. “No more talking about how we had the most mindblowing sex—”

“Lee Heeseung!” You chided, quickly ducking under his arm and rushing out of the elevator. Your face burned as you walked through the lobby, no doubt catching the attention of curious onlookers. Embarrassment flooded your veins as you exited the building, standing on the curb with your face in your hands.

Not wanting to be there any longer, you pulled out your phone and searched for your personal driver’s contact. Before you could press the green call button, your phone was snatched out of your manicured hands. “Hey—!”

To your surprise, or perhaps you weren’t surprised at all, Heeseung stood next to you with your phone haphazardly dangling between his fingers. “What are you doing?” You asked as you reached to grab it. He pulled it away, grinning when it left you pressed against him.

“What are you doing?”

You rolled your eyes, jumping to grab your phone. Once it was back in your possession, you went to call your driver. “Going,” you answered simply.

“Going where?”

“Going anywhere but here.”

He clicked his tongue, pulling a pair of keys out of his pocket. “I’ll drive you. There’s no need to wait for your driver.”

You eyed him suspiciously, your thumb hovering over the call button. “I don’t think you understand. When I said I wanted to be anywhere but here, here is referring to here with you.”

He gave you the same look as he did in the elevator, lips upturned into a pout as his eyebrows arched upward. “You really do wound me, princess.” He pressed a button on his fob, and you could see a car’s lights flash a few meters away. It wasn’t the same one he had driven you in last night, so you looked at him in question. “I have two cars. One for business, one for fun,” he winked at you when he said the last word, only laughing when you pretended to vomit in your mouth.

“Come on, princess,” he took your wrist for the nth time. “Let’s go.” You begrudgingly followed, not missing the way several workers from inside had lined up against the window to watch the interaction. You smiled politely at them again, waving goodbye as Heeseung practically dragged you along.

Just as he had the night before, he opened the door for you. This car was much simpler in design than the bright red one, with a dashboard instead of a HUD and a simple touch screen instead of dozens of buttons and features you were too distracted to play with.

As he drove off, you stared out the window, refusing to look in his direction. He had pushed up the sleeves of his blazer, showing off his toned and veiny forearms as he drove, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the middle console. “I’ll take you home,” Heeseung claimed as he slowed to a stop for a red light. “But let me show you something first.”

You looked at him incredulously but only nodded before looking out the window again.

You didn’t pay attention to where he was taking you, watching fondly as groups of friends walked down the streets, wide grins splitting their faces as they talked. It was rush hour, and you ended up paused in traffic long enough to watch a couple emerge from one of the street stores, arms linked and full of shopping bags. They were wearing matching sweatpants and sweaters, making you look down at the dress you wore. Pursing your lips, you stopped looking as you pulled your skirt down.

“Y’know, last night your skirt was getting pushed up.”

At his words, you glared at him. “You are so sleazy.”

Heeseung only grinned, never taking his eyes off of the road. “Something’s on your mind. Had to get you out of that head of yours somehow.” He briefly glanced at you, “Did it work?”

You blinked in surprise before looking away. Your hands clenched on your lap. “Where are we going?” you asked, changing the subject. You pretended not to notice when Heeseung stared at you, opting to look straight ahead.

“Somewhere I frequent. I’ll give you some leverage over me.” You peeked at him as he made a left turn, tracing over the lines of his arms. “Sound good, princess?”

You could only scrunch your nose in confusion. “Why would you want me to have leverage over you in the first place?”

Heeseung shrugged. “It’s clear you don’t trust me. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t bring us up again in front of your dad, but I don’t think you believe me ‘cause you’ve barely looked at me since you got in the car.” You winced, not liking how he read through you so easily when you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “So, I’m bringing you somewhere that I’ve kept secret. You’ll be the only one who knows who could actually, you know, get me in shit with my dad.”

Unsure of what to say, you stared at his side profile in shock. “You are so confusing,” you muttered, leaning over to look out the window. You rested your chin on your palm to cover your warming face.

Before long, Heeseung pulled into an indoor race track’s parking lot. You looked out the window in confusion. Even from outside, you could hear the revving of engines and the squeaking of tires against asphalt. You spared Heeseung a look, climbing out of the car wordlessly. He nodded his head at you, guiding you to the entrance. 

When you entered, the first thing you noticed was the yelling. Specifically, the sounds of fifth graders screaming as they circled the track in their go-karts. “Heeseung, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but a kiddie go-kart track isn’t exactly a best-kept secret.” A kid zoomed by on his kart, screaming at the top of his lungs as he pressed hard on the gas.

Heeseung only rolled his eyes at you, “So impatient.” Taking your hand in his, he tugged you along the back wall until you reached a staff-only door. Before you could argue, clearly neither of you was staff, Heeseung pushed the door open as if he owned the place. You gawked at him, whipping your head around to see if any staff were coming to kick you out.

To your surprise, the man behind the front counter only nodded in acknowledgement before going back to his morning coffee.

Heeseung kept walking, his large hand never leaving yours. You subconsciously balled them, swallowing thickly when Heeseung untangled your fingers to interlock them with his. Sneaking a look at you over his shoulder, he cheekily stuck his tongue out. The hallway beyond the door was empty, aside from a few bulletins with weekly events posted on them. 

Once you reached the end of the hall, a staircase leading to a basement came into view. You pinched your eyebrows together in suspicion, rooting your feet on the ground before Heeseung could pull you any further. “Look, I’m not really in the mood to be murdered today, so I think we’ll have to reschedule—”

Rolling his eyes at you for the nth time that day, he pulled harder on your hand, almost knocking you off your feet. He caught you with ease, his warm palm pressing against your waist as he waited for you to steady yourself. “Trust me a little, please? I promise you won’t get murdered.” At the end of his sentence, he held out a pinky. You stared incredulously at him, decked out in office attire yet holding out his baby finger to you like an adolescent.

“Are you five?”

“Hey, cut me some slack. I’m six, actually,” he teased, wiggling his pinky at you as he silently urged you to follow through with it. Heaving a sigh, you latched your finger with his.

After following Heeseung down the dingy staircase, you were met with a similar sight. A large racing track encompassed the room, looping and curving in a way that filled the space. However, unlike the track you saw upstairs, this one was occupied by cars you’ve seen in racing movies. A deafening rush of cars drove past, sending a gust of wind your way.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, staring at the cars drive uncomfortably close to one another as they made another harsh turn.

Heeseung smiled at your awed expression, a sense of pride blooming in his chest. “Well,” he exhaled, “this is my secret.”

You turned to him quickly in disbelief. “You race?” As surprising as it might’ve been, the longer you thought about it, the more it made sense. Maybe it’d be hard to believe that the Heeseung in front of you was a racer, but the one from last night? With his dark demeanour and fancy car, you’d believe it in a heartbeat.

“Only on my work breaks,” he winked. “I’ve been coming here for years. This is where loads of the street racers in town come to get their fix when there are no races going on up top.”

“Street racers?” you echoed. “Like… the illegal ones?”

“Totally like… the illegal ones.”

You slapped his shoulder at his remark, bristling as you turned away. Heeseung only laughed, a loud laugh that stemmed from his tummy as he threw his head back at your displeasure. Ruffling your hair, he walked away, leaving you standing at the bottom of the staircase. You sputtered, moving to follow him, but before you could take another step, a man blocked your view of him.

“You must be Heeseung’s girl.”

You frowned at the assumption, even if it was technically true. “What on earth are you talking about?” you combatted, looking over the man with disdain.

He threw his arms up in surrender, silently telling you he meant no harm. “Relax! I just assumed because Heeseung has never brought anyone down here before.” He paused for a moment before smiling at you with a glint in his eye. “But you were also holding hands just now, so…”

Your face flushed at the prospect of getting caught. “Shut it. Who are you, anyway?”

The man’s smile widened into a grin, showing off his pearly whites. “I’m Jake. I run this place, so I’ve known Heeseung for forever. You, on the other hand,” he jutted a finger in your direction. “You’re a new face. Usually, newbies need clearance before coming down here, but I’ll trust Hee on this one. ‘Sides, I’ve seen you on a few posters here and there.” He whistled lowly, looking over his shoulder at the direction Heeseung left in. “I knew he was some hotshot, but I didn’t know he could actually pull someone like you.”

“Like me?”

Jake raised a brow at you, scanning your face as if you’d just insulted him to his face. “Uh, yeah? You’re a model, right? You’ve got the looks, so don’t be so bashful down here.” The sound of loud engines cut him off. The excitement seemed to burst from within him as he immediately ushered you over to some bleachers. “C’mon, they’re starting soon.”

He sat next to you as you tried to make yourself comfortable, feeling jittery from being left alone with a stranger. Not that Heeseung was any less strange to you, but it was better than being sat thigh-to-thigh with someone you’d just met.

“Purple car’s Yang Jungwon. The silver one is Park Jongseong,” he listed off to you as if you would know who either of those people were. You couldn’t help but nod along, his golden-retriever-like excitement rubbing off on you. You’ve never watched a car race in person before, nor have you ever gone to any event like it. “Green is our baby, Riki Nikimura. He just started racing a few months ago.”

As he talked, a familiar red car pulled up next to the others, revving its engine loudly as if to proclaim I’m here. “You probably know,” Jake continued. “But that one’s Heeseung.”

A whistle blew, and suddenly the four cars became blurs. It was as if you’d miss half the race if you even dared to blink. You watched, astounded, as the racers circled the track with ease, not bumping into each other a single time. 

The race was over before you knew it, four laps around the large track driven in a matter of minutes. The victor, Heeseung, erupted out of his vehicle with a large grin on his face, pulling at his cheeks in pure joy. The other racers met him on the tracks; their car doors opened as they joined together on the asphalt. 

You watched from a distance as they conversed excitedly, too far for you to make out any of their words. Beside you, Jake nudged you with his elbow. “Cool, huh?”

You breathed out, making eye contact with Heeseung as he beamed at you, sending you a wave before turning back to the other three. “Yeah,” you said simply. “Really cool.”

After Heeseung showed you the race track, you ended up seeing each other more often than you first thought you would. Turns out your father was serious about your engagement. True to his words, wedding planners met with you the day after the meeting. And the one after that. And the next.

A whole week of wedding planning sped past, and by the end of it, you were exhausted. You had one more stop on your schedule for the day, a simple cake tasting with Heeseung. You made it to the bakery first, standing outside idly on your phone as you waited for your husband-to-be to arrive. Your driver and security guard waited in the car parked nearby.

An engine revved twice, something that you’ve come to know as Heeseung’s way of greeting. When you looked up, he was already locking his car across the street, jogging across the empty road to meet you. “Hey,” he breathed, running a hand through his locks. “Sorry, I’m late. Riki’s engine was busted, and the kid doesn’t know how to fix ‘em yet. Normally we get Jay or Sunghoon to do the mechanic work, but they’re out scouting for spots.”

The mention of a possible race piqued your interest. You shook your head, smiling softly at him. “I just got here. You’re fine, Hee. Let’s head in?” He nodded, opening the bakery door for you before following you in.

The smell of fresh cake invaded your senses the second you stepped in. You closed your eyes in delight, taking in the scent blissfully. Heeseung chuckled at your antics, using his hand to guide you further into the building by the small of your back.

Before long, a head popped out from the back, a rather young-looking boy with a tall chef’s hat placed neatly atop his cotton-candy pink hair. His eyes were bright as he caught your gaze, cheeks pinkening at the sight of you. “Hi,” he greeted the both of you, dusting off leftover flour on his apron. “You must be Lee Heeseung and—” the boy turned to you, awestruck as he sputtered out your name. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” he apologized bashfully, bowing his head. “You’re just prettier in person. The magazines don’t do you justice.”

You had the gall to blush at his words, turning your head in slight embarrassment. “Thank you,” you paused to read his nametag. “Kim Sunoo. That’s very sweet of you.”

If possible, he turned redder at the sound of his name coming from your cherry lips. Beside you, Heeseung watched the interaction with displeasure soaking into his skin. “We’re here to taste your cakes,” he cut in before Sunoo could say another word, knocking him out of his reverie. “For our wedding.” If Sunoo noticed that Heeseung had stressed the last word, he didn’t say anything. You nudged him gently, telling him with your eyes to behave. 

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his lips together.

The two of you followed Sunoo to the back, where an assortment of cake slices were laid on the counter. Your eyes bulged at the sight, counting over twenty cakes. “Your wedding planners gave me a list of what flavours you both had mentioned wanting,” Sunoo introduced, gesturing to the cakes with a wave. “There were��� quite a few between the both of you, but luckily some overlapped.”

A few seemed to be an understatement. Heeseung looked over the variety of cakes before pointing at one. “Is this one strawberry?” he asked, inspecting it closely. You hovered by his side, gazing down at the many plates. Sunoo nodded in confirmation, clasping his hands in front of him. “Are any of the other ones strawberry-flavoured?”

“We have a few, yes—”

“Take them away; we won’t be choosing those.”

You blinked in surprise at his firm standing, as did Sunoo, who tilted his head in confusion. The movement reminded you of a puppy, and you fought the urge to giggle at it. “But the strawberry flavours were on your profile.” 

At his words, you turned to Heeseung with a frown. “If you picked them, shouldn’t we at least try them first?” You surveyed the many strawberry cakes that Sunoo was in the process of putting away. “You obviously like them.”

Heeseung didn’t even spare you a glance. “You don’t like them.”

You stared open-mouthed at him. “How do you know I don’t like strawberries?” At your question, Heeseung finally met your gaze, only smirking at you as he rested his weight against the countertop, leaning on his palms.

“Do you really want me to get into that story here, princess?” You frowned in confusion. However, when you looked over at Sunoo, it seemed as though a light bulb had gone off for him, as his face became redder than the strawberries on the cake he was holding. A second passed before realization dawned on you, and you refrained from smacking Heeseung upside the head.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, ignoring the heat pooling in your tummy. “Let’s just taste these cakes and go home.”

Heeseung chortled, not even minding the fact that he may have left a rather lewd image in the younger man’s mind. “Whatever you say.”

After the first hiccup, the cake tasting went smoothly. You and Heeseung had finally decided on a cake with multiple tiers, allowing for multiple flavours. All of the bigwigs will be invited, Heeseung argued. Might as well appease them all.

A long hour had passed before the final order was set, and Sunoo told you to come by a couple weeks before the wedding to finalize the cake. Before you left, Sunoo came up to you, notepad in hand. “Sorry to bother you,” he spoke lowly, looking at you with a pretty smile. “Could I get your autograph?”

You agreed wordlessly, taking the pen from his outstretched hand. After signing it, Sunoo didn’t even give you the option of returning the pen on your own, instead taking your hand in his fondly. “I did mean it,” he said with sincerity dripping from his honey voice. “You really are prettier in person.”

You didn’t get to reply before Sunoo’s hand was slapped away. Heeseung’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, bringing you close to his side as he stared daggers at the baker. “Might I remind you that the woman you’re talking to will be my wife?” He spoke firmly, leaving no room for questions as he turned, dragging you out of the bakery. Your driver and security guard were long gone, having left at Heeseung’s promise to bring you home. 

“What was that?” You asked in disbelief, glancing over your shoulder in time to watch Sunoo disappear in the back. “He’s just a fan, Heeseung.”

He said nothing, opening the door for you before promptly slamming it once you were situated. You flinched at the aggression, eyes trained on the man as he made his way into the driver’s seat. He started the engine silently, the keys jingling as they hung from the ignition. His left hand wrapped around the steering wheel, but he made no motion to pull away from the curb.

Instead, he leaned over the middle console and pulled you closer by the chin, three fingers gripping you tightly. You gasped at the sudden forceful movement, staring widely into his dark eyes. You felt his breath tickle your skin as he stared at you, eyes fixated on you as if you’d disappear if he looked away.

“You’re driving me mad,” he uttered, lips just barely brushing over yours as he spoke. He had his lip ring in today, and you shivered at the feeling. “Ever since that night, you’ve been on my mind. And it’s driving me insane because I can’t do anything about it,” he hushed, his tone torturous as he bore into you.

“When I walked into your father’s office last week, you have no idea how happy it made me knowing that you were going to be mine,” he hissed, fingers digging into your skin almost uncomfortably. “You’re mine, and yet you’re here entertaining other men that shouldn’t even matter to you.”

“Heeseung,” you mumbled breathlessly, eyes darting down to his plump lips. He narrowed his eyes at you harshly, his normally rounded eyes growing sharper as irritation swirled in his dark hues. 

“You’re mine, princess,” he rasped, leaning forward. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss, his body moving fervently against yours to convey his turmoil. You moaned loudly when he bit down on your lower lip, his tongue licking into your mouth as he kept his hold on you. Unlike his other kisses, this one was messy. Your teeth clashed as he shifted closer, spit dribbling down your chin and onto your pressed clothing. 

The hand that gripped your chin moved to wrap around your neck. He didn’t press down, but the heat that surrounded you sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take you home,” he almost begged, moving to bite at your ear. “Wanna show you who you belong to.”

You whimpered at his words, pressing your thighs together fruitlessly. “My apartment’s closer,” you gasped when he bit down on your jugular, his hot tongue shooting out to lick at the teeth marks. “Go there, please.”

The ride passed by in a blur, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself pressed against another elevator wall. It was hard to contain your moans as Heeseung made his way down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was available to him. He fisted your breasts through the fabric, eliciting a lewd groan from you. 

“Such a whore,” he jeered against your lips as he kissed you again. “Letting me touch you like this, undress you like this. You probably want to get caught, don’t you?” He groaned, grinding his growing hard-on against you through your clothes. You let out a noise at how hard he’d gotten, your mind swirling as continued to press himself against you. “Fuck, baby. You’re driving me crazy,” he sucked your earlobe, the sensation making you squirm.

When the elevator dinged, Heeseung made haste, tugging you into your apartment after fumbling with your keys. The door slammed behind you, and you felt the cool touch of wood against your back as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time kissing you deeply, hands roaming your sides as he pushed your shirt off completely. Your bra followed soon after, his expert hands unclasping it with ease. You barely caught sight of it being thrown haphazardly across the hall in a haze.

He tugged down your pants after popping the button, shoving them down your legs unceremoniously. You whined into his mouth, tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Letting go of your lips, he pulled the shirt over his head before coming back for more. You could get addicted to the way he kissed you, needy and full of desire. His lip ring pressed against your skin, the contrast making you sigh.

“Jump,” he mumbled against your lips before claiming them as his own once more. With ease, he hoisted your legs around his slim waist, pressing you harder against the door as he ground into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his clothed dick, your thin panties doing little to mask the sensation. You briefly wondered if your neighbours could hear you, but the thought left as soon as it came when Heeseung cupped your breasts roughly. “You remember the safe words?”

You nodded impatiently, moving your hips against his desperately. “Yes! Please, just fuck me,” you begged, trying and failing to feel more of him. Your hands dragged down his toned front, grasping onto his warmth like a parasite.

“Where’s your bedroom,” he asked, pulling away to look you in the eye. His bare chest heaved, his skin turning pink. The sight of Heeseung’s bruising lips and glossy eyes had you falling apart in his arms as you directed him to your bedroom.

You were less-than-gracefully dropped onto your mattress as Heeseung stood over you, unbuckling his belt. The light from the hallway illuminated him, casting a glow around his figure. His eyes never left your body, eyes roaming up and down as he rid himself of his trousers. You trained your sight on his bulge, his boxers doing little to hide his length.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, climbing over you slowly. “Mine. Your smile is mine. Your laugh is mine.” He cupped your boobs, circling your nipples with calloused thumbs as he watched you carefully. “These are mine.” Heeseung leaned forward, pressing his clothed cock against your cunt. “Fuck—this pussy’s mine too, yeah? You were made for me, all mine.”

You could only nod, not trusting your own voice, as he moved to pull your panties off. You whined when you felt the fabric stick to your folds, your slick acting like glue. Heeseung balled up the fabric, unceremoniously shoving it in your mouth. You whined, the noise coming out muffled as Heeseung pulled off his boxers, revealing his hard dick.

“You don’t need to talk,” he growled, leaning down to bite at your neck. “Clearly, you’re just a stupid bitch who doesn’t know when she should speak. Why else would you let that fuck flirt with you in front of me, huh?”

You shook your head adamantly, attempting to speak through your cum soaked panties. 

“You think he knows that you’re laying here, spread out for me like this? Do you think he knows just how fucking wet you are for me?” He slapped your cunt as he spoke, causing you to jump. A sick look of pride took over his features at the sight of your glassy eyes, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. He dragged two fingers up your cunt from your weeping entrance up to your puffy clit. 

“Shit,” he groaned at the touch. “Gonna make you mine. Gonna fill you with my cum, so everyone knows, yeah?” Using your slick as lube, he rubbed his shaft slowly, never taking his eyes off you. You lifted your hips off the bed, wanting nothing more than for him to rail you, but he was quick to push your body down, his large palm pressing against your tummy firmly.

You cried out as best you could when he rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds, collecting your juices as he fucked against your clit. He pressed the fat tip into your entrance, the familiar burn causing your eyes to roll back. He groaned lowly as he pressed himself into you, heaving when his hips met yours.

He watched as his cock slipped in and out of your clenched hole with ease, your heat sucking him in. Pushing your legs up against your chest, Heeseung steadied himself on his knees as he buried himself in your pussy. “Fuck,” he drawled out, his head thrown back in pleasure. Your eyes trailed down his neck, his Adam’s apple jutting out deliciously as he swallowed. 

Pushing down on the back of your thighs, pressing your legs almost uncomfortably against your body, he moved with the same passion he used to kiss you in the car. You almost screamed, biting down on your soaked panties as he drilled into you. The sound of your wetness slipping against his cock was obscene, but God did Heeseung love it. He moved faster and faster, pistoling into you with an unrivalled enthusiasm.

Releasing one of your legs, he reached down to circle your clit, making you jolt up from the bed. You threw your head back, loud cries escaping your throat even through your improvised gag. “So fucking good for me,” Heeseung groaned, draping his body over you as he shoved his face into the crook of your neck. His pace never faltered, strong and hard thrusts pushing your body up the bed. “Fuck—! This fucking pussy was made for me.”

Without warning, he pulled your panties out of your mouth, now dripping with saliva. He dropped them somewhere on the bed, his hips slamming against yours as he kissed you. You moaned into the kiss, hands grabbing blindly at his back. “H-Heeseung!” You cried, burying your face into your comforter as hot tears burned the corners of your eyes.

“Come on,” he hushed, pressing against your clit faster. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you cream around my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you?” You blabbered out nonsense, unable to make any coherent words as his hardness dragged along your gummy walls. You could feel the rope in your stomach tightening as his thrust became more desperate. His rhythm stayed constant, even as the back of his thighs burned and his cock twitched.

“F—uck,” he almost sobbed, his voice breaking as he fucked into you ruthlessly. “God, baby, feel so fucking good. Gonna cum inside, yeah?” His voice echoed in your ear, leaving goosebumps on your skin. You couldn’t tell if you were nodding or shaking your head to his words, your mind a mess, as all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock. “You’re gonna take it for me—shit—take it all. Don’t want any of it coming out.”

You felt something snap as you arched your back, your orgasm washing over you in brutal waves, like a tsunami crashing against your body over and over. You sobbed as Heeseung kept moving, never relenting in his pace as he chased his own release. His fingers kept circling your clit, even with your feeble attempts to push them away. “Heeseung,” you cried as overstimulation racked your body.

Heeseung swore under his breath, kissing you gently, contrasting his harsh thrusts. “I know, baby,” he sighed, sweat rolling down his face as he pecked your lips. “Just a bit longer for me, shit, you’re taking me so well.” He moaned loudly as he neared, gripping your hips tightly as he plunged into you.

He bit your shoulder as he came, ropes of thick cum painting your walls white. His hips stuttered, a quiet fuck, fuck, fuck spoken into your shoulder. Heeseung didn’t stop thrusting into you gently until his orgasm faded away, pressing his softening cock deeper into you. You could feel his cum seeping out of you, soft whimpers rumbling in your throat at the feeling.

His breath was heavy as he all but collapsed on you, using what little strength he had to hold himself up so he didn’t crush you. He left gentle kisses on the marks on your neck, making you shiver in sensitivity. He pressed a lingering peck against your lips before leaning back slightly to look you in the eye.

Heeseung shifted to move a stray hair out of your face, and you couldn’t help but melt at the way he was rubbing circles on your hip. Leaning up, your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him, wrapping tired arms around his nape as you brought his body flush against yours. The movement made him accidentally press against your clit, and the both of you moaned into the kiss. You swiped your tongue over his lip ring, sucking it into your mouth as you moved your hips slowly.

“You’re insatiable,” he mumbled against your lips. Despite his words, he felt himself grow hard when he glanced down at your shifting hips and the ring of white around his shaft. 

“You love it,” you countered, holding him against your body tighter.

He scoffed, pressing a kiss against your forehead before rolling you over so that you were sitting on his lap, dick still inside. You squeaked when he took your hips and rolled you back and forth over his cock, your cunt still sensitive. “No more running away,” he rasped as he fucked up into you slowly.

You leaned down to kiss him once more in silent agreement.

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

#wonlovie #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung scenarios #heeseung #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #kpop #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop scenarios

[gimmethatagustd]

oxygen | jjk

If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.

○ Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Mafia, established relationship, angst, smut

○ 9 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Mafia)

○ Word Count: 2,053

○ Warnings: Organized crime, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, infidelity (MC's boyfriend is Yoongi *gasp*), MC is actually kind of sick in the head lowkey lmfaooo, marijuana (is it a jai fic if weed isn't at least mentioned?), casual conversation about being murdered, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, gunplay, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol, unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm control, hair pulling, rough sex, pain kink

○Notes: I was never here. I repeat, I WAS NEVER HERE.

○ Post Date: February 13, 2024

○ Masterlist |

○ What was Jai listening to? Oxygen - Jackson Wang

“I fucking hate you.”

Jungkook tastes blood as he watches you stumble up the marble stairs, break-ankle stilettos grating into the stone like his molars grate against each other when he chews the inside of his cheek.

It takes three steps before you give up, bending to slip your finger under the thin black strap that hugs each ankle to keep the red bottoms in place. Off-balanced from holding your leather jacket balled up under one arm, you teeter on one foot, and Jungkook has to fight the urge to grab your waist.

Air rushes out of Jungkook’s nostrils, a scoff that mixes with the wind. It’s one of the last days of summer before autumn cuts the nights short and chills the air. If Jungkook could have his way, he would be sitting out on his balcony right now with a fat blunt and his phone on silent.

Instead, he’s dealing with you.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna fucking help me?” you snap, words slurring together when you pout through them.

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek where he’s bitten into the fleshy skin. The metallic flavor mixes oddly with the aftertaste of his half-smoked blunt from earlier.

“Thought you said you hate me,” Jungkook sucks his teeth, tattooed fingers squeezing your bicep to steady you while you unclasp your shoes.

“I do.”

“Hmm.” Jungkook exchanges a grip on your arm for the heels, black and deadly like the Glock clipped to his waist.

Your dress rides up far enough that your asscheeks are exposed when you bend down again, your skimpy black thong doing nothing to cover you. The sheer pair is one Yoongi bought you for Valentine’s Day last year. Yoongi hadn’t batted an eye when he dropped thousands of dollars on a lingerie set that he isn’t even patient enough to appreciate on your body before he rips it off.

Not Jungkook, though. Jungkook is patient.

“Carry me,” you whine, pushing up against Jungkook’s side, nimble fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging.

Jungkook knows not to look up at the columned overhang, but the many cameras lining the mansion's exterior weigh heavily on him as he helps you up the stairs to the front door.

“I can’t,” Jungkook grits his molars, jaw flexing beneath taunt skin, “And you know that.”

The keypad at the front door unlocks with Jungkook’s thumbprint. Inside, the foyer is dark. It’s nearly four in the morning, and the rest of the guards are either monitoring the cameras or asleep. They’re all lower-level and easily bend to Jungkook’s will, meaning none of them will rat you out for slipping off in the dead of night to go party with your friends despite being under strict orders not to leave the house until Yoongi returns from his business trip.

As second-in-command, Jungkook should be in Japan with Yoongi, handling what will likely be one of the largest arms deals in Bangtan’s history. But Yoongi is paranoid, and paranoid men don’t leave their girlfriends with just anyone. Especially when their girlfriends are trouble.

And you? You’re trouble in a tight little black dress, hips swaying as you walk with new purpose through the foyer, your leather jacket thrown on the floor for Jungkook to pick up as he trails behind you — always trailing, following just a half step behind you, only in front when he puts his life on the line over yours. And he does, has the scars on his body to prove it, scars you like to bite to remind him of everything he’s willing to lose for Yoongi. For you.

There are only three types of rooms in the house that don’t have cameras installed: bedrooms, bathrooms, and arms rooms. You like to have Jungkook fuck you in all of them.

Tonight, it’s one of the basement-level arms rooms, the one Yoongi likes to use for entertainment because there’s a full bar and a conference table typically littered with guns, drugs, and money.

And sometimes, if Yoongi is in a shitty mood, girls.

You don’t care what Yoongi does, though it wouldn’t matter even if you did. As Bangtan’s leader, there’s no room for criticism of the boss — unless someone wants to lose a limb or their life, and Yoongi is known to be trigger-happy.

You learned that from him.

Jungkook lets out a shuddered breath as you drag the muzzle of his gun from the middle of his sternum down his abdomen. The metal is cold, and you move slowly, taking your time over every hill and valley of his muscles, painting goosebumps across his skin until you reach the waistband of his underwear.

The chamber is empty, but it still makes Jungkook’s heart jump in his throat when you press the gun against his clothed cock.

“Yoongi is going to kill us one day,” you whisper, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back a smile.

Jungkook leans back with his elbows against the table where you’ve sat him at one of the chairs. You’re in your heels again. Jungkook loves it when you stand over him, a powerful force far too often squandered by Yoongi’s overbearing leadership and desire to be the most feared person in the room. It’s one of Yoongi’s greatest mistakes.

You’re gorgeous, stripped down until all you’re wearing is another man’s Valentine’s Day gift, your own body a present Jungkook has the unholy pleasure of opening again and again — but only after you’ve opened him up, gutted him like a fish.

Or blown him open, a bullet bursting like shrapnel to cut him from the inside out. Jungkook would let you do it.

Jungkook stares up at you with innocent eyes that tell nothing of the secret horrors his hands have done, of the horrors he has endured and inflicted upon others. He stares up at you with innocent eyes and his lips wrapped around the muzzle of his gun that you hold with your finger on the trigger.

“Bang, bang,” you giggle as the gun clicks, and Jungkook lets you slide it further into his mouth, the tangy taste too similar to blood and nothing he hasn’t tasted before.

Maybe it’s fear that makes Jungkook crave you. Maybe Jungkook has a death wish. Maybe Jungkook likes the idea of you being his lifeline, the sole decider of whether he lives or dies. All it would take is one tiny confession twisted into a lie, and you could convince Yoongi that Jungkook came onto you and tried to seduce you.

Jungkook knows Yoongi would enjoy making him suffer if he thought Jungkook was treating you unkindly. Yoongi would enjoy violently murdering Jungkook even more if he knew just how good Jungkook treated you.

You don’t pull the gun back until Jungkook gags. Tears collect along his eyelashes, but he blinks them away as you toss his gun onto the table.

“You’d let him kill you.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook’s voice is hoarse from the gun, and it cracks when you sit on the table in front of him and spread your legs. “I would.”

“You’re fucking stupid.”

“So are you.”

Jungkook’s cock throbs as he watches you slip your thong down your legs. You drag his spit-slicked gun along your dripping pussy, parting your folds and getting the muzzle shiny with your arousal. When his eyes flit up to meet yours, you let out a broken moan, tongue slipping out to lick your bottom lip.

“Come here,” you beckon, the curl of your finger tugging Jungkook forward like a red string tied in a noose around his neck. He fits perfectly between your thighs, his clothed cock pressing against your exposed pussy.

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispers against your lips. His body crowds yours, forcing you to tip your head back to look into his pretty doe eyes.

“Be a good boy and clean this up first,” you say as you hold up the gun in front of Jungkook’s face.

Jungkook doesn’t look away as he licks a stripe up the length of the gun’s muzzle, too turned on by how intensely you watch him lick and suck your juices off it. How eagerly he bends to your will is pathetic, but he doesn’t care.

When you toss his gun away to dig your nails in his hair and tug him into a bruising kiss, Jungkook feels like he can finally breathe.

You taste sweet, like whatever fruity cocktails you’d been drinking with your friends. Jungkook sucks your tongue, and he feels the vibration of your moans go straight to his leaking cock.

“Fuck me,” you moan with nails in his back, “And make it hurt.”

Jungkook helps you off the table to bend you over it. He may prefer sex that is slow and face-to-face, but Yoongi is coming home in a few hours, and sometimes, you like to punish yourself by denying yourself the sweet, sensual care that Jungkook prefers to give you. Sometimes you like it dirty and fast like this, Jungkook fucking into you with your wrists behind your back and your face pressed into the conference table’s cold, sleek surface.

You look forward to the tender bruise you’ll have on the apple of your cheek and against your hips from where Jungkook fucks you hard enough that you slam into the edge of the table. It’s a gamble, wondering if this will be the time Yoongi finally notices.

Sometimes Jungkook wonders if Yoongi already has noticed, and he’s just biding his time, waiting for the opportune moment to kill you both.

“Fuck, jagi,” Jungkook moans. The table squeaks and grunts as the force of Jungkook fucking you pushes the table back and forth across the floor.

“Do I feel good, baby?” you gasp, twisting your hands in Jungkook’s so you can wrap your fingers around his wrist, too, to have something to hold onto.

“So good,” Jungkook whimpers, tightening his grip on your wrists. “Can I cum? Please?”

Your skin is probably chafing from how hard you’re being bounced against the table, but all you do is moan and clench around Jungkook’s cock, taunting him.

“Jagi, please,” Jungkook begs, hips faltering slightly. You’re so wet and creamy. There’s something about fucking you in the arms room that always makes you feel and sound better.

“You wanna cum? Baby boy wants to cum?”

“Wanna cum so bad, you feel so, fuck, so, so good.”

Jungkook lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips and pull you onto his cock with each thrust. You lift off the table slightly so he can wrap one arm around your waist and slip his fingers through your folds, playing with your clit as he fucks you. He knows he needs to make you cum first before you’ll let him.

"Just like that, you're doing so well," you pant, pussy clenching and pulsing around Jungkook's cock so hotly that he knows you're going to cum soon.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long. Jungkook has you so worked up that you cum once he pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingers while you writhe and squirm on his cock, whimpering his name.

“Come on, baby,” you moan, “Cum for me, now.”

Tilting your head up, you let Jungkook kiss you. He squeezes his eyes shut as he cums inside you, mouth hanging open and completely useless to kiss, so you press light kisses along his sweaty throat instead.

“Thank you,” Jungkook whispers once his body has calmed down, gently easing out of you. His hands shake as he collapses into the chair and pulls you into his lap.

You kiss him properly this time, sliding your hands through his sweaty hair. He’s pussy-drunk, fucked dumb, nothing but static in his head as your lips glide with his. He could stay like this, pliant like clay in your hands, let you mold him into whatever you want him to be. Let you make or break him. Jungkook doesn’t care.

“Tell me you love me,” you demand, nails sharp against Jungkook’s scalp.

“Jagi,” Jungkook whimpers when you pull his hair, “I love you so much. I love you more than anything.”

“More than yourself?”

“More than myself.”

You hum into the next kiss, and Jungkook feels his body melt. 

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfic #100 drabble challenge #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #oxygen

[swaqcenix]

The Devil was an Angel First | N. Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x fem!stripper reader

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Summary: It was a risk and a job worth taking, simply use your ability to seduce to earn enough money to get you your university degree. Yet you didn't anticipate the owner of the strip-club to take a significant interest in you, but what can she do? As soon as Natasha saw you, you were hers.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x!fem stripper reader, employee x boss, forbidden romance

Warnings: 18+, slight dark!natasha romanoff, manipulation, strip-teasing, lap-dancing, pole-dancing, fingering, semi-public sex, oral (n to r), mommy kink, strap-on, choking,degrading, over-stimulation, handcuffs and toys, reader is easily manipulated!

Word Count: 9K

AN: This is heavily inspired by the song Pray by Xana, you could listen to it while reading this to get an extra bit of the atmosphere ;)) Also I wil be taking small requests or drabbles for this specific fic/pairing as I'm secretly addicted to this concept.. (not so secretly.)

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

Slipping amongst the crowds, your eyes dart around the room as the sounds of the club itself echo through your body. The lighting was illuminating each corner of the room, but stopping in certain bleak shadow's contrasting well with those who put on a performance.

The smell of slick sweat and hot bodies mingling through the room made your nose twitch through instinct and it was around this time your mind was wondering whether this was the right call.

University had been always your major goal in life, pass through High-school get your qualifications and your grades, just don't fuck up. For most of your life you'd remained hidden in the shadows, contempt to live life remaining hidden away while the flashlight of beams hit the sky's ground touching everything but yourself.

Yet apparently life deemed it not apparent that this was the case for you. Instead when your family collided into debuts and the household becoming a simply standing memory of what once was and never could be's you knew the longing for snatching your degree's up in higher education was slipping like fog and air through your fingers.

Would that be a common knowledge concept and reality to turn towards darker paths? Well, darker in regards to your family's eye-line anyway. You simply saw it as an opportunity for people who enjoyed doing things their own way, their own style and didn't wish to follow into the lights of the sky like others we're unique.

Your family wouldn't be appreciating your actions but it didn't matter. It realistically couldn't no matter how much they perhaps frowned at the idea. You could perhaps go into depth of how it wasn't selling your body but allowing it to be seen, allowing others to get a taste of the salt and the the aroma of flavours their hearts desire, but never fully satisfied.

Pole-Dancing wasn't something you'd be opposed to doing by any means. Watching the way they drift through the air, holding onto the bar with such pristine confidence and high agility hit your stomach in all the right ways. Nimble and soft fingers holding onto the pole with such grace their body's dancing into the fire of the night, other's moving with grace and affirmation.

The men and women watching their every action their every step with such a wide eye their lustful thoughts screaming with such a power your own ears rang. Black stiletto's clinging to the poles with a strength that made you doubt your own abilities despite having the darkest of secrets lingering on thoughts.

Quiet girls always tend to have the deepest of desires, the fieriest of personality. The set determination on being quiet, being forgotten and not wanting to be seen always portrays just how difficult life could dance around in a sea of wonder and mystery.

The air smelt so much of blood sweat and tears, the smoke driving the fuel into everyone's body, an ignition lighting up. You turned towards the bar deciding to opt on a drink, probably a hardcore whiskey if you wanted to get through this alive and sane, the burning feeling would ground you heavily to reality.

Turning on your heels, your contrasting deep-blood heels clacked heavily on the floor, treading with a walk that helped you do the one thing you'd avoided doing. Being seen.

Eyes watched, heads tilted and words of whisper drifted across the room as you brought the attention away from the other worker's sensing some hard glares and other longing looks. It was no secret you had the looks, it was just never in your cards, not your line of sight, but the devil didn't always play with fire until pushed within the flames.

"Whiskey neat please," your voice was firm and held no conversation for an argument.

The barman glanced at you and you simply watched as his eyes glanced at you, looking you up and down. You could practically feel the budge in his pants grow from here and the self-refraining you were doing from rolling your eyes was repulsing.

You weren't about to start off your first time in this place by pissing off the men you could encounter more often in telling them you not into indulging in their acts. Explaining to men who couldn't understand the word no when it comes to simply not being interested in them was not a path you cared to go down for the time being, instead settling on biting your tongue.

Sure, it didn't mean you couldn't make some impressions around here though. You'd already made a rather splendid entrance by sauntering around capturing lingering eyes of the men and women which allowed your red tinted lips to tilt upwards.

The barman worked nimbly, his hands being heavy but not without meaning as he flipped bottles around like he was performing an act. Normally this would entice most women to jump for joy and use some ogle eyes towards him. However, you were in fact not most women, you simply walked through the world of shadows until you decided to finally allow the light to kiss your skin in all the right areas.

He slowly slid the drink down to you as you tossed him the dollar bills owed and sauntered off in means to find the owner of this establishment. The music moved above you like puppet's on a string as you did your best to try and move through the blinding strobe lights and bodies mingling into one.

Guessing that the owner would find you before you found them, your body decided to make it's way over to a table waiting for them to arrive with introductions, you crossed your legs simply playing with the bottom of the whiskey glass, swirling it around for play as you chucked it down your throat.

The feeling of the burn hit you instantly and you squinted for a moment before a heavy sigh escaped the opening of your lips leaning back in the chair once again becoming one with the shadows. Besides the demons in everyone else's heads seemed to be having their own rituals one of which you weren't enticed on indulging in such acts.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you. Doing well to not attract attention you glanced through your glass trying to picture who was approaching and a flash of red curls took through the reflection.

Your lips tilted upwards in a mischievous smirk as you leaned back in your seat, a feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. Your mind wandered as you presumed the mystery woman was approaching ready to allure you into sinful acts of seduction and dance through desire into the night.

Instead, what was not predicted was the black stiletto heels coming to a stand still right behind your table, a hot and heavy breath lingering in your ear. Your body tensed and you felt the smirk dripping from the woman behind you as you tilted your head turning around to be met with someone who should be the devil in disguise, one to lure you entirely out of the shadows and touch the fires to ignite you entirely.

"You must be Y/N. Y/LN. I am Natasha Romanoff, Miss Romanoff to you. Owner of Desiring ignition. I will interview you in the back rooms if you don't mind?" her voice asking a question but orders slipping from the sinful tongue.

Your body moved before your lips did and you found yourself following after the redhead like an obedient dog, for a minute forgetting yourself entirely and not thinking, just acting like a string was tugging you along.

Her red hair was distinctive even against the darkened tone of the room, the lights dimming in and out didn't affect it as it shone like fire and ash, the devil reincarnated you knew. Her hips swayed with an intent to drive a man wild but in a way she didn't wish for any of them, simply alluding to her own intoxicating beauty, poison and toxic.

The eyes followed you both and you scampered after her down a neon-purple hallway, the colour's almost blinding you within a trance. Finding your bearings you knew you'd need to pull yourself together if you wanted this job so decided to play in the same game, the same chess board. Play with the devil.

Her hands clasped tightly around the handle as Miss Romanoff lead you into what you presumed to be her office before shutting the door behind her. The noise seemed to almost be drowned out now, as though she'd installed noise cancellation into her office.

Your eyes scanned the room trying to analyse and get anything you could on this woman. You'd always liked to get to know someone through their surroundings and what that said person associates themselves with, especially if it works in your favour.

The office itself was dimly lit but well cleaned and decorated minimally. To your left there was a desk, mahogany coloured with 2 chairs on ether side, the desk holding files that your eyes couldn't capture from the distance you stood. A solemn picture held itself strongly on the desk of what you could make out to be a younger blonde woman, perhaps the same age as you or a couple years older.

The redhead nodded her head towards the chair on the other side of her desk, before sitting down on a black leather one herself. Even sat down in the dimly lit office you could tell she was a woman of business, not one to be meddled with nor to cross without paying the price which for yourself was bad given your track record of loving to stir the pot.

Her eyes lingered over your own for a while examining you, looking you up and down in a way your body almost jolted at the sheer intensity of her gaze. Not wanting to keep the older woman wanting any longer, your feet moved on the own accord sitting down on the chair opposite of her. Her posture was still up straight, impossibly held and elegant opposite of your own.

"So," she began by looking through your files as though you'd be arrested under a warrant issued for the most wanted criminal.

"You've got good grades from schools, a track record of not seeming to show herself within public eye and even held debates and meetings within clubs. Your jobs previously consist of coffee shops and waiting so what exactly is it you have to offer here," she stated her voice was laced with disdain and annoyance.

"Well that's correct yes, but I have goals in life and things I need to achieve. I can't get there without doing this first, trust me it's a last resort," you replied cringing inwardly at your response.

It was a stupid mistake you'd created by saying this job was a last resort. That would be the last thing this goddess of a pain was waiting to hear, especially when wanting to employ you. You'd fucked up royally but like she stated, you had a tendency for debate clubs and there was nothing better you were good at than worming you way into or out of situations.

Her eyebrows shot upwards at your response and you watched with fear as the redhead perused her lips together eyeing you once again with a look of utter irritation.

"So you see us as a last resort?" She asked stiffly.

"No, nothing like that-" you tried to reason but her hand waved in the air dismissing your comment before you'd began.

"Y/L/N. Do you know how many people come here asking for jobs hm?" Her head titled to the side lips twitching while watching you squirm.

"No..."

"Over 200. How many do you reckon we employ exactly?"

The venom and toxic poison in her voice almost sent you spiralling you couldn't help but feel entirely hooked on it. Yet the feeling in your mind told you to run, leave before you headed down the road of embarrassment and utter danger.

"I'm not sure, Miss Romanoff," you voice was surprisingly even for someone being scolded in a private office room.

"The answer is 4% out of those 200 get employed. Yet, a silly girl like you walks along struts in like she owns the fucking place and says it's a last resort," she taps her finger on the side of her face mockingly.

"No.. I can dance and I'm incredibly talented on a pole," you tried to reason but she once again shushed you in a dismissive tone.

"You're dismissed off you go," she shooed you off and your legs stood by themselves your mind no longer in control of your body.

As your body walked towards the door head daring not to look back your hands went towards the door handle, before lingering on the metal for a moment. Your mind danced away thinking of thoughts and how you couldn't give up so easily. You came in this bar, this strip-club looking for a job and you'd be damned to go without one. Sure the woman behind you was a stole cold bitch, but she came with fire. You had the gasoline to set this place alight.

Turning on your heels, you faced the older woman who went from looking down at her files with disinterest to whipping her head up. Miss Romanoff tilted her head to the side as you approached with a surge of confidence that you didn't know you had running through your veins setting your blood alight. Your body leaning over her desk you smirked as she watched and you could sense her tense beneath you.

"Let me show you what I can do," your voice was whispered with sultry and laced with such confidence that was missing moments ago.

The redhead thought for a moment, her lips twitching ever so slightly at the sides before tilting up. She removed herself from her chair carrying her composure elegantly as ever before entering your personal space.

"Be my guest, show me what you can do," she smirked.

Before you could even blink, Miss Romanoff snatched your hand and lead you out of her office towards one of the unoccupied rooms. The sparks you felt when her hand clasped your hand and rising towards your wrist jolted your stomach giving you somersault's.

She on the other hand, snatched her hand away as quickly as she took it and you weren't sure why that caused such a sting within you. The older woman wasn't required to touch you in any way, but her response was as though she'd been burnt in opposition to your own body's reaction wanting to feel her touch ignite you more.

Suddenly the vast realisation of reality crashed down on you and your stomach churned in thought. Your mindset couldn't be thinking this type of way in any shape or form towards someone who could perhaps be your boss. This wasn't about to become some cliche film style where you fuck your boss, you couldn't give her that style of power.

Yet, as you let your mind indulge further in thoughts, she wasn't your boss. Not yet and not now, besides if you wanted this job a thirst to prove yourself to the flames of hell as she was, you were going to have to join the game.

Heading further down the hall, Natasha stopped at the door to her left and you titled your head in anticipation. The feeling of not knowing what you could possibly find was always thrilling yet had an edge of dread that filled your lungs and ran through your veins.

Observing her silently, you watched the redhead slip out a singular key from her pocket before slipping it with ease into the lock and turning it. Her hand which you tried definitely too hard to not focus on wrapped around the handle turning it before standing to the side awaiting you to head inside.

Silently entering the room, you found yourself coming to a sudden halt at the sight that stood before you. A singular pole stood in the middle of the room, tall and with a bolden look about it almost calling to you begging you to dance upon it. Towards the corner of the room lay what you predicted to be a lot of BDSM toys ranging from handcuffs and blindfolds to nipple clamps and leg spreaders.

Your cheeks flushed heavily at the sight as heat ran through your body and you found yourself turning away from the toys, eyes instead landing on a chaise lounge. The furniture was a deep red, crimson in fact darkened like the blood flushing heavily through your veins, perhaps darker than Ms Romanoff's hair. Turning your head in her direction you realised she'd been watching your reaction as you absorbed and gawked at the room, causing you to flush even further.

The older woman simply smirked at you before making her way over to the chaise lounge, looking you up and down in what you originally thought was a judgmental look now seemed otherwise, before sitting with determination down onto the chair.

For a moment it was silence as she only stared at you examining you for a mere moments that felt like hours before rolling her eyes and scoffing. Her hand raised upwards as her index finger- that looked incredible you might add- came out and directed at the pole giving you a pointed look. Realisation hit your face and you realised what the redhead was asking of you, which caused all sorts of emotions to run through your head.

She was asking you to to give a full example of how you'd dance within her club, within her line of work and show yourself. Normally this wouldn't be a bother as you'd come to a damn strip-club for god sake, but it was the idea of dancing alone with her that sent your nerves spiralling and your body shaking beneath you.

Still, there was no point in arguments, you'd been the one to suggest showing her, but in hopes of a more lively atmosphere. Instead Miss. Romanoff had lead you to a secluded room one of which held what you predicted secrets hiding within the 4 walls for you to dance in.

Sucking in a tight breath you closed your eyes tightly shut counting to 3 before opening them once more. Getting your bearings around you, you strutted to the pole making sure to remove the jacket that clung tightly to your skin hugging you in all the right places. The jacket was placed to the side of Natasha and you tried not to smirk too much at the feeling of her eyes travelling over your form.

Her body stood up, walking over to a speaker in the corner causing you body to tense up slightly. If it was too loud it was sure to cause an uproar of attention that in this current moment you didn't want. Your mind was too focused on earning the approval and the full attention of the redhead selfishly to yourself despite wishing that you didn't indulge in such sinful acts.

You removed your pants, leaving yourself in only your polo shirt and underwear, trying your best not to make any sort of contact with her. You could have done pole-dancing in your pants but it wasn't a risk worth taking if you didn't want any slip ups and needed the grip. Instead you walked over to the pole closing your eyes tightly before opening them and glancing over at Miss Romanoff.

Her head was tilted to the side and you were almost convinced her eyes that you noticed earlier were the shade of emerald green like the piercing ground of earth were almost charcoal now, luring you into the mist of hazing sinful creatures and touching the igniting flame. Instead of contemplating thoughts any longer you let out a mere nod towards the older woman and she smirked turning on a song that widened your eyes as, girls girls girls by FLETCHER began to echo through the room.

Trying to once again ignore the intriguing implications behind the song you stepped forward flexing your hand back and forth continuously before gripping onto the pole tightly with your left hand. Your fingers curled instinctively around the metal bar and you cleared your mind. One of the first things you'd learnt about dancing and when understanding how to use the effective ways of pole-dancing was don't think just act.

You let your mind carry through the music eliciting the illusions of thoughts and song's as your body carried you through. You started off smoothly, swinging your way seductively around the pole keeping your outside leg straight before pivoting your inside foot at the same time.

Your mind carried through song as the beat's began to pick up, your outside foot worked through muscle memory hooking around the pole before your other joined gripping tightly.

As soon as you felt your body securely fitted on the pole your hips moved in ways of wonder as though art itself couldn't touch through paintings of masterpieces. Your back arched and your hip swayed in beat swinging yourself around the pole before your body flipped itself in ways of wonder, dancing and spinning with everything it had.

The song slowly began to draw to a close and it was then your eyes chose to linger from being shut as you made your distinctive signature move, swinging yourself around with a grace you didn't know was within you. Your body swung from the top to the bottom of the pole in the most seductive way possible as your fingers crossed over, before your eyes drifted to the red head.

It took everything within you not to let out a shit-eating grin when you noticed the gawking from Miss Romanoff who looked like she was ready to eat you up whole. Given any other circumstances you would have flushed or felt self-conscious, but instead you embraced the feeling of confidence as you gently slithered off the pole a laugh almost sliding past your lips.

You sauntered over to the older woman, teasing leaning over her body to grab your jacket only to be yanked down onto the couch. You felt the blood run course through your body you heart pounding so loudly you'd not be surprised if she could hear it herself. The room came to a heated silence, the tension thick and easily cut with a knife. Natasha's hand came up to cup your jaw tilting it to the side almost as though she wanted to judge that part of you too, or better yet distract herself from what she was initially going to do.

"Tomorrow, 8:30pm your shift will begin. I recommend not arriving late, or better yet arrive earlier to prepare yourself. You work hours will differ but tomorrow you'll be finishing at 3:30am. Understand sweetheart?" Her voice husked out and you were almost putty in her hands once more.

Your head nodded unconsciously, the primal instinct in you roaring to obey your now boss's instructions. The feeling of disgust ran through your body at the realisation of what you'd just performed despite it being your job area now. It wasn't the fact you'd pole-danced it was the secluded room and the song that made your body squirm.

The redhead seemed to thrive in amusement on that power and you weren't sure whether the heat that ran to your core was feelings you wished you didn't have or anger that turned into the feeling of lust, perhaps both. Her hand tightened on your chip ever so slightly to the point you thought her nails may cause intends within your skin, marking like a hot poker within it.

"Oh no, none of that. You use words to me okay? So do you understand dorogaya?" her tone showed no time from you for disagreement.

"Yes, I understand Miss. Romanoff," your voice was strong and assertive despite inside your body was a mess of sweat and utter chaos.

Natasha leaned back, stretching her arms across the couch staring at you for a moment before taking her lip between her teeth, clamping down hard. The sight was enough to send a hot gush of wetness between your legs and your mind screamed at you in retaliation, she was your boss. Her teeth gently let her lips go with a pop before standing up and walking up to the door, swinging it open with ease staring back at you with an expected look.

"Good girl," she whispered out her lips tilting up dangerously as your fixed your tousled hair that had become slightly damaged from dancing.

Your body reacted once more to the words almost jolting in response, but you did well to keep yourself refrained and intact. Instead you simply grabbed your belongings nodding towards the woman and headed straight for the main exit. Perhaps the acts you were prepared to partake in was deemed as sinful and immoral, you wouldn't give so much as a glance if they were. It felt like the devil was standing their glaring into your soul and you didn't care for anything else other than entering the gates and feeling the flames wrap around your body.

The next evening went as smooth as it could, the blasting of the music as your body danced in between of time to the tunes. Your personal favourite was the one's that went sensual before picking pace as it allowed you to do your signature moved before flaunting around people in a seductive manner. You'd thrived on how the men and women gawked at your, eyes popping out of their heads, drooling from the mouth like you were a treat they had to have.

Fellow colleague's had taken up on asking advice, specifically your new favourite Wanda who you added on further inspection was quite a looker. The way she'd bounce her brunette curls around her face as she danced into the night like nobody was watching always had you admiring her.

She herself had wanted tips from you, always seemingly interested by your dancing to the way you move on a pole, her eyes always lingering in sheer awe and amazement as though you personally had placed each star drifting through the sky. Yet, you always felt another pair of eyes, heavy and dark lingering in the shadows.

It was the type of shadow you'd spent your whole life hiding within but this aspect was dangerous. It felt cold mixed with fire alike, bonding in ways it shouldn't mix. The soul being ice and chilled to the bone with fire in the centre waiting to burn itself from the ground up. You constantly sensed the lingering eyes on your body but chose to ignore it, for you knew the consequences of the danger, you knew who those eyes belonged to you just couldn't face them to admit it.

It continued for the next week until Saturday came faster than anticipated. Your legs carried you through the building with ease and a sense of calm now almost as though you'd been there for years. In reality you'd become rather content with the building of Desiring ignition. You'd scarcely interacted with Natasha though, (thank god.)

It wasn't the exact concept of fearing the woman, no it wasn't that. It was the way she made you feel. It was like feeling towards the devil, it's forbidden you see red with anger, lust the picture painted of danger and intoxicating aroma.

You'd done well in avoiding the older woman but she did appear to be making it easer than anticipated, despite knowing the one hiding in the shadows, lingering not wishing to be seen but knowing you felt her presence seemed to enough for the older woman.

You had settled on something different this time, usually not opting for dresses preferring to dress loose but certainly stylish all the same. However this time, you'd decided to rock the boat and you weren't sure why.

Instead you'd settled on a deep emerald green, darkened than usual but curved around your body clinging in all the right ways. The anticipation and adrenaline of the reactions you'd receive left your mind racing, despite not wanting to show anything off entirely. Definitely not for her..

Directing yourself towards the bar, you walked over greeting who you'd now become accustomed to know as Bucky. He actually was opposing to what you expected after your encounter on the first night, he was just hesitant of newcomers. Instead now you'd become close to the man always offering a term of greeting.

"Same as usual?" He questioned winking as you both knew it was wrong to drink on the job.

Albeit it was hardly your fault, when it came to this job and work environment you'd hardly be faulted for having the odd drink to get by. Most days we're enjoyable, the women ogling over you and many wanting to touch what their desired hearts couldn't reach, like seeing a pebble in the ocean before the sea carries it out, perfectly sculpted but not yours to own.

Your lips curved up into a smirk filled with fire and mischief, the look of mystery plastered all over your face. Not a word spoken, your head nodded into his direction and Bucky nodded once in return. His body moved swiftly, preparing a small yet rather what the average person would deem an intoxicating strong drink for yourself as he slid it over.

Taking your drink you sipped away at it as you made your way onto the floor, seemingly into the sea of people. It was busy & you only knew it was going to get busier. Besides; you had an hour to kill before even remotely starting your shift so you might as well busy yourself.

It started simple, sitting down mingling with guests, eyeing up who was necessarily your desire for the night. All you needed was the money, even with the weighing guilt that sometimes poured over your head you needed to make your way into the world.

God only knows how you'd found yourself onto the dance floor, one moment you were sipping on your drink waiting for the beginning of your shift the next you were dragged onto the dance floor by a taller and seemingly older brunette. Her hands were dragging across your waist causing your face to flush.

Were you sure you were entirely within protocols here? Not at all, yet there was no rules you couldn't dance with the paying guests before your own night began. Though you were indeed certain Miss. Romanoff may cause some issues with this.

Alcohol wasn't even the reason for your confidence, it felt like something was drawing you to push boundaries that night to tempt yourself into desired that you shouldn't cross. You could say you don't bring your guests into the bedsheets like you do your demons but as the brunette's hands grazed across your stomach for a moment you short circuited.

You found your head tilting an angle towards Bucky's direction who was eyeing you with a concerned expression painted upon his face. His frown that narrowed through his forehead, eyes giving a dangerous tone, almost trying to warn you.

Still, you shrugged it off instead allowing the touch of another burn your skin though whether it was a burn of desire or the burn of hell you weren't sure. You were playing with the fires of lucifer here & partially enjoying yourself. Lips grazed slightly over your neck, almost allowing you to loose yourself instantly without a sudden care or thought.

People were silencing around you within beats of the music, like a chill had passed down from a frost bite. They were parting like royalty had arrived themselves, but you were completely unaware in your own mindset in your own thoughts.

Lips grazed your neck sloppily, yet it burnt like an ignition hell fire in your skin. Yet your mind was dancing somewhere else or better yet, someone else. It was like someone snapped a finger, as within a second like you'd blinked an eye and the warmth from behind you disappeared.

Widening your eyes, you opened them but a hand snatched you spinning you straight into a body. You stumbled forward legs like jelly, hands still shaking with adrenaline as their perfume invaded your senses. It was a sexy perfume smell no doubt, the aroma making it's way into your nose poisoning you. You'd almost breathed in, wanting more of the intoxicating taste of it, yet that wouldn't be ve-

Shit. Shit, shit shit.

If your suspicions were correct, which you were highly convinced they were then the perfume and the person you'd been dragged into was someone you dreaded finding you in that compromising position. A whisper drew you from the dread in the pit of your stomach and your stressing mindset as they leaned towards you.

"Enjoying yourself darling?" The voice carried the familiar edge you dreaded.

The feeling of bile rose in your throat from sheer anxiety and you gulped hard to keep yourself at bay. Slowly looking up, your eyes met the all too familiar green ones.. One's you could get lost in and fantasise about consi-

No, not to be thought of right now.

Her eyebrows were arched consistently and the familiar look of a stern facial expression was painted on your Boss's, Miss. Romanoff's face. Her lips were painted a blood deep red and the blush on her cheeks were making your legs like jelly, let alone your stomach's feeling of somersaults.

"I..." Stuttering voices was all you could muster right now.

A swift finger placed on your lips was all it took for your cheeks to hear up and you were certainly an embarrassing jumble of mess in front of her and everyone around you.

"Shh," her voice carried an authoritative tone but you were almost certain you could sense a lace of.. jealousy?

Surely that was an impossibility; she had nothing to be jealous about besides she was your boss, albeit a damn sexy one. Reality hitting back to you slowly you sensed the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and wanted in that moment for the ground to swallow you whole.

Gone was that confident attitude you easily found yourself mustering up to her, instead replaced with a timid jealous woman wanting nothing more but to run for your life. Your eyes didn't dare leave hers despite their sea of pure intensity and fire, though you didn't think you were capable of looking away even if you tried to.

A quick flick of her hand could be seen from your peripheral vision and as if someone had press play on a remote, the crowds resumed. Colleagues danced on laps, poles and bar stools while the noise resumed like they'd been frozen in time.

Before you even had the chance to speak, you were spun back around rather forcefully. However rather than letting you go, her hands yanked you flush against her chest, allowing you to feel her radiant body heat and the heat to come back to your cheeks once more.

Hands roamed over your body while her lips moved to your ear, a sultry almost lustful voice following suite.

"Well well, what was that little stunt hm? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for private shows not giving a full on public display of borderline sex," she snapped though her hands still cupped your hips.

"I.. I can explain..."

Her hands cupped your clothed cunt causing you to cut your sentence off and gasp out. Embarrassingly, your body jerked forward into her hand showing how putty you were, easily giving into your boss.

"No, no I don't think so. You wanted a public stunt like that hm? Who's breasts are these?"

Her hand moved up to cup them, needing them through your dress causing you to almost cry out. You couldn't lie, you were grateful for the atmosphere being so loud and disoriented otherwise you'd have cried out from sheer embarrassment.

"M-Mine," you whispered through a half gasp earning you to feel her knee rub you subtly once more in your lower region.

"Wrong answer, don't get it wrong again hm?" She said through semi-gritted teeth and your body melted back into her.

Unsure of the adrenaline you had coursing through your veins you spun around and found some form of confidence in you to cup her own lower region.

"Yours," you whisper-shouted back due to the strength of the music, though your voice partially wavered.

It was obvious she was caught off guard through the sheer surprise that danced like the force of nature the wind dancing with the trees on a stormy night. Miss.Romanoff's lips tilted upwards into a smirk and without a word or a warning her hand clasped onto yours and you were being pulled swiftly down corridors.

Everything seemed to pass you buy in a blur as you had no recollection of one door to the next, nor did you dare to look at any faces glancing and gawking your way. Simply you decided to be an obedient little thing and follow Miss. Romanoff towards wherever she was leading you.

Suddenly, you came to a halt in front of a locked door slowly coming to the realisation this was Miss.Romanoff's personal room; no one was ever allowed to enter. A surge of some sort of excitement flooded the course of your veins in some way as she led you through.

Locking it behind her she pointed to her own personal chaise lounge and you obediently followed her instructions like a lost puppy, almost falling over your own feet to get to it. A low chuckle left her lips sending chills upon chills down your spine and embarrassingly hitting your core (that was probably now soaked.)

"Miss Romanoff I don't know if this is-"

"Natasha," she cut you off instantly smirking at you.

You gawked at the older woman like she'd just spoken in a foreign language. However she brushed it off, slowly approaching you like an animal would it's prey. Lifting your chin up she grinned down at you like a cheshire cat before huskily speaking.

"Call me Natasha. Though I'd also prefer to be called a different name, can your pretty little brain think of what that is?" She asked lustfully.

Gulping you had a smart idea, but didn't want to ask a stupid question. So you kept your mouth shut but apparently Natasha had other idea's towards your 'misbehaviour.'

"Colour," her voice was softer for a moment only by a slight tone but you sensed it.

It almost made you crack for a moment and come to your senses. An employee couldn't- shouldn't sleep with their boss. Yet, as you believed earlier the devil was technically an angel first and you wanted to touch the fire, you wanted her to touch you. However, it was evidence you were taking too long as you'd received an arched eyebrow and she grabbed you firmly by the chin awaiting her answer.

"Green but.. this is wrong you're my.."

A gasp cut you off as she placed her lips instantly on your neck biting down hard before sucking. You felt Natasha's lips trail up and down biting an area she could, knowing instantly it was going to leave a mark. Moans elicited past your lips as you found your head slowly adjusting to give more access.

She sucked and nipped at your skin like her life depended on it, it was intoxicating. She was starting a fire within you no one else could ever ignite. Natasha kissed her way back up to your face before whispering sultry into your earlobe.

"Now you want to keep your job don't you, you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-Yes I do Natasha," you went to move your hands in her hair when you felt something restrict you.

A deep blood red-handcuffs the same shade as her hair was holding you back and your eyes widened in realisation. The demon's in your head were fighting with each other as you felt her clamber her way into your lap.

"Now.. you're going to behave for mommy aren't you?"

She grinned at you arching an eyebrow while her plump red lips glistened under the dim lights. You couldn't bring yourself to respond to Natasha, you felt your stomach twisting in knots at the word and your brain go fuzzy.

Restriction on your neck caused your airways to tighten slightly, not too much but the pressure sent a heat to your core you didn't know could happen. She frowned at you sternly, a small crease of annoyance in between her forehead that you found dangerously hot and cute at once.

"Don't make ask twice detka, you should know in the time you've worked for me I hate repeating myself. Now be a good slut and respond."

Not wanting to face the consequences of hell knows what she'd do you nodded instantly a feeling of nervousness that was fuelled by desire and lust rising within you.

"Yes mommy, I'll behave. I promise!"

Your response pleased her, yet your brain didn't have much time to respond as a loud groan escaped your lips. The buzzing sensation pressed against your panties sent you spiralling into oblivion. Natasha captured your lips with her own, red lipstick smearing your own with a kiss, sealing your fate. Signing your soul to the devil seemed like a fate that could send anyone into a panic, but when it was Natasha Romanoff, it was pure bliss.

"Your moans are a delight to my ear sweet girl," her whispers against your lips only spurred you on further.

You found your hips grinding down against the toy your bottom lip become broken and bruised from how hard you were biting it. A small slap to the thigh sent you jolting as you looked up to see Natasha's stern look.

"You move when I tell you to move slut," she slurred out high on lust and desire and you felt a spiral of wetness shoot down to your glistening pussy that was most definitely dripping with desire.

You felt the pressure of the toy increase levels and it took you everything not to cry out in absolute ecstasy but the overwhelming stimulation, it was so intense your toes could curl.

"You're already coming undone are you for your mommy?" Natasha bit down slightly on your ear lobe her fingers trailing up to your throat once more as she whispers into your ear.

"When you lay down on the chaise lounge you'll be screaming my name tonight darling. Yet, did you honestly think that you could get away with that game Y/N?" Her voice dragged down your body as quickly as possible.

Teeth sunk into your skin, nipping sucking and licking into the depths of every single area Natasha could reach. You hands tried to fling over your mouth to muffle your moans, yet your restraining handcuffs brought you back to reality.

"They'll hear Na- Mommy," Your slip-up didn't go unnoticed as a slap to your thigh and a hard bite on your chest caused a cry out from your lips.

"Let them hear you. You wanted a show, I have every intention of giving you one."

Before your thoughts could catch up to your lips a rip echoed through the room as a strength had come from the redhead herself. Gasping as she put some pressure on your clit the intense feeling driving your body into an overwhelming feeling.

As her fingers pressed against your puffy lips you knew instantly you were getting addicted to the feeling; the ignition pushing you towards Natasha's capture. She was easily trying to capture her pray within you and you'd stupidly let her.

"Please.. I need more," You pleaded your brain foggy with lust and utter craving for Natasha in every way possible.

With a single flick of a switch you felt her turn the toy to maximum levels before her fingers were swiftly replaced with a lapping tongue. The cuffs that felt like chains kept to a wall yanked down as you tried to touch.

She spat on your clit and you felt the shit eating grin pass her lips as Natasha heard the familiar sound of tugging from them. Instead she tutted and her eyes grazed up connecting with your own, purposely dragging her tongue up your slit making you cry out from the intensity.

"You're a good girl aren't you hm? Taking your boss so well. Imagine if I got to do a public show with you.. God the way the crowds would go wild as I fucked you over and over again," Natasha lulled against your pussy.

The images dancing through your brain was sinful, absolutely disgusting to others but for some reason like you were trapped in a cage of sex you didn't care. Magic was a dangerous power and a dangerous curse yet she wheeled it all within this room, your body and your mind, your essence and soul.

As she shoved her tongue into your entrance another cry of intense joy, you weren't sure lust most definitely past your lips. Her free hand moved up to your breasts massaging the buds between her tips, sending you without permission releasing your juices all over her tongue.

Ms. Romanoff pulled back and the look on her face was not one of an impressed look, though that didn't stop her tongue swirling around her mouth getting the remaining taste left. That action alone sent another wave to your core despite the overwhelming feeling and you felt your legs like jelly simply from one round.

"Did I say you could cum?" Her voice was stern, boomed against the contrasting atmosphere of what the stench danced with sex, and sweat, desire and fire.

"I.. I didn't me-"

"Did. I. Say. You. Could. Cum?" She repeated her voice was filled with such an authoritative tone sending your mind back to your original meeting.

Had it not been for the handcuffs and the familiar stern look and not wanting any more disapproval from Natasha, you'd have coward away from embarrassment. Instead you shook your head wondering what on earth you'd gotten yourself into it wasn't like you were bound together but.. part of you lived from the excitement; she was a devil, demon of angel and hell with the need to feel her touch.

"No.. No Miss.Romanoff, you did not." Your voice rasped out exhausted from screaming already.

She stood up no word uttered and she disappeared around the back, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment. It felt like you were fucking with the goddess herself, but was it sanity? Was it safe to be sharing sheets and secrets behind closed doors? Possibly not, but her blood-red lips and curves of her body made it impossible not to fall into. A trap of love or lust, it wasn't even known to you within that sight, just the devil herself you'd taste it every-time.

A song brought you from your dancing curious thoughts, one that sent your body ice-cold and your eyes widening instantly. A song called 'Pray' You'd become one to recognise. It was a favourite with your regulars at the club. Except you hadn't quite realised Natasha herself had noticed, but you'd been proven quite wrong.

On the contrary, Natasha walked in with a thick deep red strap-on, one that was already wet ether with her spit or something else it was unknown. But, she knew and had seen it caused a rage in her she hated herself for. Yet, she had to have her way with you.

"Sit back," she ordered pleased instantly you'd complied with no sudden refusals or hesitation.

Without a warning she flung one leg over your body joined by the other leg, until she was sat in your lap straddling you. Instantly, a gut feeling surged through your veins flying through every pulse point sending a fire and ice in one through your very skin. Your suspicions were confirmed when she slowly started to move her hips on you with the strap on.

A lap-dance. A lap dance by Natasha Romanoff, your boss the fucking owner of Desiring ignition. Better yet it was with a strap on.

Her hips moved in a motion not even the most poisonous temptations of the world could, but Natasha out-beat them all. Her hands moved down her body over her hips and you watched in amazement as she began to thrust onto your leg while dancing like a majestic queen. Her moans spilled past her throat, giving you everything you desired sipping her up.

Your hands begged to move and your pussy pulsated allowing some juices to spill out. Your eye's pleaded with her to undo the cuffs but all you'd received in return, was a tut and a small pressure to your throat.

"You can touch soon detka. I'd like to have my fun now. Do you know how long I've waited to have my way with you?" She whispered her hips shaking and thrusting to the beat of the music.

"N-No," you answered honestly to mesmerised by her movements to figure out an answer.

"Since you first walked into that door. I needed you away so I didn't tempt myself with the cup of sinfulness, one that I shouldn't lead by. Yet, when I saw you dance.. Oh my sweet little slut. You were perfect. I needed to ruin all of you," she husked out shaking her strap slightly.

You almost came right from the scene in front of you, gaining your own kind of friction from her strap. However while the music beat sped up one lyric spurred her over the edge and caused her to break the chains of control, fly up from hell and take her prize.

'When she lays down to pray at night.. She'll be screaming my name.'

Something about that song lyric sent Natasha spurring forward and her hips bucked against your lap causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Her hands reached up undoing the cuffs breaking the barrier as your hands finally touched her hips, her olive silky skin feeling beautiful under your finger tips.

Her fingers suddenly managed to make their way underneath her body with a precision that seemed impossible to you and slammed themselves into your now over-stimulated pussy. You cried out in part-pain and mainly bliss the coil in your stomach building up.

She worked you like wonders themselves couldn't work the song blaring in the background. Natasha still continued to give you a lap-dance of sorts but mainly focused on getting the two of you off and fingered you hard and fast, her hips meeting some sort of thrust.

"Scream my name," left her lips and that's all it took.

The coil in your stomach snapped and you came once more all over her fingers, legs shaking and your eyes pooled with tears of joy from how incredible it felt. Natasha followed suite from the sight and the friction cumming all down her strap and some spilling onto your lap causing yourself to groan.

However, she had an ungodly amount of adrenaline pounding through her system as she clambered of your body leaning over your lips and throat demanding one thing of you.

"Suck."

Her voice was raspy sending a pool of wetness shooting down once more and you felt yourself let out some dripping juices by accident. You instantly took the strap on gagging on it as she shoved it deeply in your throat. Looking down, the sight was enough for Natasha to cum right there and then but she held it.

She wanted you to gag on her strap, shut your pretty little mouth up as she took in the sight of what was hers. Her sinful prize, her desired need was sucking her cock so well it was a bliss to see. Hearing you gag she rubbed your pussy once again causing you to cry out the stimulation being too much, yet Natasha ignored you.

She ignored you until your hips jerked up once more being greedy and desperate for her fingers or strap-on and she smirked in sheer delight. She'd made you putty in her hands. You didn't care anymore the manipulation of her job had worked wonders in your mind making it hazed with fuel of her touch and knowing only she could make you like this.

Clambering down, no warning was given as her cock suddenly found your puffy and over-stimulated entrance and her eyes drifted down. Natasha groaned at the sight, how ruined and how messy you were, wetness seeping down your thighs.

Not wanting to waist another minute, her cock slammed into you thrusting hard not giving you any time to adjust. Her lips moved fast and at a ferocious pace causing animalistic like grunts to leave your lips. Your mind danced with her and only her, it was like she'd made her mark engraved her and only her within it and you'd take it all, drink all of her and whatever she'd give you.

Sloppy slapping sounds hit the four walls of the room and her lips slammed into yours as she bit on your bottom lip. Your now free hands, moved into her hair tugging lightly causing a growl fit from an animal that could kill within seconds. Natasha kissed harder, hips slamming down without a single care and you felt yourself becoming close.

"Please.."

She grinned against your lips and you knew what was going to happen then and there. Your boss had won the game of the life time, her prize possession and puppet.

"Cum on mommy's cock like a good little stripper hmm? Let me take all of you," she husked out giving a particular hard thrust.

With that your juices hit her strap-on hard, flowing out of you like a river itself your mouth screaming her name while your body shivered. Hands clawing at her back now the sight was enough to send her spiralling, leaving you just enough time to recover to see the sight.

Her back arched, releasing her own as she had her eyes closed lips partially opened and skin slick with sweat and cum mixed from both of your spots.

Your eyes shut themselves sheer exhaustion taking in and all that could be heard was panting breaths in the room. It was as she leaned down you'd known how badly caught in the trap of lust you were with your own boss, her whispers filling the room.

"I've caught my own trap now, the devil got her prize. And I am far from finished with you yet, mommy's little stripper slut."

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #dark!natasha romanoff #stripclub owner!natasha romanoff #marvel fic #marvel

[moon-rivr]

el arreglo

pairing: arranged marriage miguel x fem reader

warnings: miguel being an ass, guy grabbing the reader, oral (f receiving), mirror sex, and overall smut lol 🫣

author’s note: idk what my obsession is with writing asshole mig 😭 i hope you guys aren’t finding it repetitive or boring 🫣 anyways, enjoy <3

word count: 4014

When Miguel had agreed to this arranged marriage set up by your parents, he didn't seem himself having you bent over your shared bathroom sink as he pounded into you from behind, fisting your hair with one hand as he forced you to keep eye contact  with him through the mirror.

It started off at another gala that your father frequented, in an attempt to make himself respected in the business world. His business had recently skyrocketed in profits and he was being acknowledged for the hard work that he put in, but that still wasn't enough for your father. Despite the fact that he was gaining respect from other businesses and gaining opportunities, he quickly became greedy and obsessed when he found out that he was still being ignored by some. With that greed and obsession, the sweet father who used to play Monopoly with you quickly disappeared and transformed into someone ruthless.

You decided to wear a blue dress that plunged at the neckline all the way to your breasts along with a pair of silver stilettos to the gala, making some heads turn at your arrival. Your parents quickly went to go mingle with some of the other guests, eager to make a good impression, while you sat down at one of the tables and sipped on a glass of overpriced champagne. You looked up from your phone when you saw a shadow looming over you, glancing over at the man who was standing in front of you. He was tall, taller than anyone else in the room, and his black hair was pushed back to perfection. Despite how devilishly handsome he looked in the black tux he was wearing, you couldn't help but be enamored by his eyes. They were such a unique shade of brown, almost appearing red when the light hit them right.

"What are you doing here all alone?" He asked, sitting down in front of you as he took a glass of champagne from a waiter passing by. "My parents are out mingling, but conversation about how the stock market is progressing doesn't seem very interesting. and what are you doing here joining me in solitude?" You replied, taking a sip from your glass as you took in the man sitting in front of you. "Like you said, conversation with people who only really care about how many zeros are in your bank account isn't very fulfilling," he remarked, clinking his glass against yours as he took a sip. You looked down to where his hand was holding the champagne glass, the comparison almost funny before you started to think just what he could do with his hands. You snapped out of it, looking back at the man who was smirking at the sight of your flushed face. "So what's your name?" You asked, leaning a bit forward as you set down the glass. "Miguel. Miguel O’Hara, nice to meet you."

Soon after you two had finished up with your champagne glasses, he led you outside to the balcony with the excuse of wanting to hear you better. You two leaned against the balcony, watching some of the other guests arrive or looking up at the twinkling stars. You found conversation to be extremely easy with him, he wasn't anything like the prestigious assholes that your father had tried (and failed) to set you up with. "I don't know, I feel like you're giving me that kind of angsty angry at the world type of vibe," you said after the conversation had turned to what high school was like, eliciting a small laugh from him. "Sort of, yeah. And let me guess, you were the popular cheerleader?" He remarked, leaning against the balcony as he looked over at you. You rubbed the back of your neck nervously, letting out a small sigh before deciding to open up to Miguel. "Uh, no. My dad was struggling to get above profit every quarter so we couldn't afford the extracurriculars. I mean, it wasn't bad or anything but I did end up being the joke of the school," you replied, leaning against the balcony now. "For what it's worth, I would've loved to be your friend."

Eventually after a while of conversing, Miguel extended his hand out to invite you to dance. "You are aware that there's no music out here, right?" You asked, letting out a small laugh as you held his hand. "We'll dance to the rhythm of our hearts," he remarked, letting out a chuckle of his own as he began swaying to an imaginary soundtrack. "I was aware of how corny it was when it left my mouth," he mumbled, his cheeks flushed a bit red with embarrassment. You continued to dance with him, enjoying the way his body moved against yours and the body heat that he was radiating. You looked up to see his gaze already on you, those brown eyes almost sparkling with something similar to desire. "I'm gonna kiss you, is that okay?" He whispered, looking at you for a response. You nodded, closing your eyes as you leaned into it. His mouth was soft, inviting and you could taste the champagne he'd drank earlier along with something just so uniquely... him.

You pulled away when you heard the balcony door open, seeing your father standing there with a smile on his face. "Ah, I see that you've gotten yourself acquainted with your future husband," he remarked, patting Miguel’s shoulder before he walked next to you. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked from your father to Miguel, seeing the same expression on his face. "Husband?" You asked after a while, rubbing your arm nervously. "I wasn't aware that it would be you that i'm marrying, but yes, your father thought that us getting married would increase our business profits," Miguel responded, his face turning stone cold and you started to grow annoyed. You'd expected this from your father, to marry you off for his expense without any regard towards your feelings but now Miguel was pretending like there wasn't a spark between you two?

A couple weeks after the gala, your father arranged for your marriage with Miguel to be in the city courthouse with only some of your friends and his potential business partners. You were in the process of moving your stuff into his place in order to make the marriage seem more legitimate. When you arrived at Miguel’s house, you couldn't help but admire the sheer size of it and the amount of expensive decorations he put up, but you couldn't help but notice that it was missing a touch of home. It was like something out of an Airbnb catalog, not a place someone came for solace. The living room was devoid of any pictures of him or his family, full with paintings that must've cost a fortune.

After you finished setting your stuff down in the room he'd set apart for you, you decided to walk downstairs to the kitchen since you hadn't eaten breakfast that morning. You noticed Miguel sitting at the kitchen table in a plain white tee and sweatpants while he typed something up in his computer as you headed to the cupboards. You grabbed a bag of chips and looked over at Miguel, leaning over the table a bit. Things had been distant ever since the kiss and getting married, but you were determined to at least try to get along with your husband. "Hey, how's work going?" You asked, looking at him with a small smile as you opened up your bag of chips. "Can you open that somewhere else? It's too noisy," he grumbled, not bothering to look up from his computer. You let out a small sigh and picked up the bag of chips from the table, starting to walk away before you heard him speak up once more, "And don't think this is going to be a loving marriage. This is only a business transaction and you just happened to be one of the pawns."

You decided to start distancing yourself from Miguel after that, which was considerably easier since he was always away on business trips or working late. You constantly found yourself crying over Miguel’s neglect, wishing that he would show you at least a smidge of attention, but those tears were quickly replaced by burning anger when he rejected every advance you tried to get close to him. Eventually, you started shutting down completely and only coming out of the room when he wasn't home or when you two needed to attend an event together. Even at the events, he still kept you at an arm's length and made a point not to speak with you until it was time to go.

An art showing you were excited for quickly arrived, and you found yourself giggling and smiling when getting ready despite knowing that Miguel wouldn't act differently from those other times. You dressed in a red floor length dress with gold heels, your hair and makeup styled to perfection. You walked downstairs after Miguel complained about you taking too long, seeing his eyes widen just the slightest bit as he held his hand out for you to hold. "You look nice," he offered, walking with you to the car. You'd normally be excited and form delusions about how things were improving between the two of you, but you didn't feel like raising your own hopes for once. "Right because I spent two hours getting ready to look 'nice'," you responded, taking your hand away from his as you walked to the car.

The drive there was silent, the jazz music playing on the stereo filling up the atmosphere. You knew that you'd basically just snapped the only olive branch that he'd offered you, but you couldn't stand to deal with the disappointment that came after realizing that he still didn't like you. You looked out the window, Miguel’s hand lingering on the side of your thigh as he occasionally glanced at you. You two arrived at the gala a couple minutes later, only getting close to pose for pictures and sell the image of the perfect marriage.

You walked over to the bar, leaving Miguel alone as he went to go talk with some of his associates. "One whiskey, please," you asked the bartender when they came over, your eyes occasionally glancing over at what Miguel was doing or who he was talking to. You tried to push the thoughts aside as you took a sip of your whiskey, listening to one of the auctions going on. You finished up with your glass around the time that the auction had ended, looking over to see that Miguel was still busy mingling so you decided to head out to the balcony to get some fresh air.

You were looking out at the night sky when you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning around to see a man around your age giving you a polite smile. "Hey, I couldn't help but notice you're here alone. Aren't you O’hara’s wife?" He asked, leaning against the balcony as he turned to look at you. "I am, but I’m not really that big on socializing," you responded, turning to look over at him. He let out a dark chuckle as he lit up a cigar, taking a huff out of it before he turned to look at you once more. "You know Miguel doesn't really love you right? He's only with you out of convenience," he said after a while of silence, closing the gap between the two of you. "Even if we are, I don't see how that's any of your concern," you said, the words came out more defensively than you had intended them to. His hand lingered on your shoulder, brushing a strand piece of hair aside as his eyes darkened. "I'm just saying, if you're ever tired of being in a loveless marriage, he doesn't have to find out," he spoke a while after, his hand still resting close to you. You were about to push him away when you heard someone speak up behind you, "Get your damn hands off my wife."

You and Miguel walked back to the car in silence a couple minutes after that encounter, and you felt like a scolded kid despite the fact that it wasn't your fault. Once you two settled in the backseat, he turned to look over at you, his gaze softening up just the slightest bit. "Are you okay?" He asked, surprising you completely since he'd never bothered to ask. "What does it matter, Miguel?" You responded, pinching the bridge of your nose as you looked out the window. He spent a couple minutes in silence, before you noticed that you two weren't headed back to the house. "We're headed someplace else," he said, seeing the look of confusion on your face.

His driver pulled over to a secluded spot and Miguel helped you out of the car, grabbing a blanket from the trunk. He set down the blanket and sat down, patting the spot next to him. "You didn't bring me out here to murder me?" You asked, a brow raised as you sat down next to him. "No, that's a completely different spot," he replied, letting out a small chuckle as he glanced down at you. You spent a couple minutes looking at the clearing and at the constellations before glancing over at Miguel, deciding to ask the question that had been lingering in your mind for a while now. "What changed? I mean, why are you so distant despite the connection we had when we met?" You asked, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. He let out a sharp exhale, turning to look at you.

"I had a daughter, Gabriella. She was the center of my world, y'know? And then suddenly, she wasn't in my world anymore and that completely destroyed me. It was easy flirting with you in the beginning because I thought it would just be temporary, but then you turned out to be my wife. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I'm scared that everything I love will end up destroyed," he spoke up after a couple minutes, his voice cracking a bit as he spoke. You were unsure of what to say, so you decided to stay quiet and simply rub your hand on his shoulder, but what you didn't know is that your presence was all Miguel needed to feel okay in that moment. You two stayed quiet for the rest of your time there, just taking the time to be close to each other and enjoy each other's presence for the first time.

Miguel had tried to be a more attentive husband after that trip, getting over his own fears and being vulnerable with you. He started talking to you about work, letting you ask stuff about his personal life, and let you sit down with him while he was typing away at his computer. You were scrolling through your phone while Miguel was working on his computer, not noticing when he had moved over to the couch to sit down next to you. "I have a business trip to go to, but I want to take you out on a proper dinner date when I get back. I know I haven't been the ideal husband but I'm trying here," he said, rubbing your ankle as he looked over at you. You placed your phone down, grateful at the amount of effort that Miguel was willing to put in to make the marriage a bit more bearable. "I appreciate the fact that you're trying. I can't wait," you responded, sitting up to kiss his cheek and hoping that the small act wouldn't scare him off. He responded to the kiss fairly well, returning it and turning the tv on so you two could relax for a bit.

About a week later, you had received a text from Miguel that he would be arriving from his business trip today around 7. You couldn't help but feel excited at the fact that you were finally going to go on an actual date with your husband, so you started dancing in the bathroom while you brushed your teeth. You spent about an hour taking care of your appearance, putting on hydrating face masks and shaving before going to get dressed. You settled on putting a short dress that complimented your curves perfectly with a pair of silver heels, the jewelry matching them. You took out your makeup bag and started to finish getting ready in front of the bathroom mirror, not noticing that Miguel had come inside.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as he placed a kiss on your neck. "You look stunning," he whispered, the proximity of how close he was combined with the compliment making the wires in your brain short circuit. You turned around to look at him, seeing that he was already dressed to go out, with the color of shirt matching your dress and black slacks. You couldn't help but notice the loose tie hanging around his neck so you decided to lean in to fix it before he grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it as he looked up at you. "I wanted to be a gentleman and take you out to dinner first but I just can't help myself."

Miguel did quick work of taking himself out of his pants, placing you on the bathroom counter as he looked up at you. "Is this okay with you?" He asked, his hands gently rubbing on your thighs, not wanting to do anything without your proper consent. "More than okay," you responded, watching as he slid your dress up to your hips. He got on his knees, starting to lick a stripe up your thigh before he did quick work of slipping your panties down. "Such a pretty pussy," he whispered before he leaned in, running his mouth through your folds. His tongue explored every part of you, basking in the experience as he gently tugged and sucked. He licked a stripe from your weeping hole to your clit, your manicured hands tugging on his hair. He slipped his tongue inside, letting out a low moan as the vibrations went through you, causing your legs to twitch a bit.

He gripped your legs tightly as he sucked on your hole, lapping at the juices you were releasing. He looked up at you with his tongue buried in you, the tip of his nose wet from your juices. You let out a small moan at how pretty he was, your hips grinding against his face as you sought out more. "So greedy," he said with a small chuckle, taking his pointer and middle finger to tap against your lower lip. You opened up your mouth, your tongue running the sides as you sucked on his fingers. He took them out and got on his knees once more, slipping them inside of you with ease. You let out a loud moan as you felt his fingers curl to hit your g-spot, your toes curling in the silver heels. Your legs began to twitch as he started to suck on your clit, his tongue working expertly to provide you with pleasure you needed. His fingers and mouth worked in tandem to provide you with the stimulation you craved, your hands tugging on his hair as your hips grinded against his face. "I-I'm close!" You moaned out, the peak of your climax approaching quickly with every suck of your clit. With one final thrust of his fingers, you gushed around them, your face contorted in pleasure. He got up from the floor, his eyes on you as he sucked your release from his fingers.

Miguel kept you in the same position as he aligned his cock with your pussy, his gaze on you as he started to slide himself in. He let out a low moan as he bottomed out, his hands on your hips while he started off slowly. He grabbed his discarded tie off the counter, tying your hands together and your legs were on his shoulders, the angle allowing Miguel to slip in deeply with ease. He started moving faster when he noticed your hips moving against his, his balls slapping against your ass. Your walls clenched around him tightly, eliciting a moan to come out of him as he thrusted in you faster. The grip on your hips was sure to leave you bruises by tomorrow, but you couldn't find it to care with all the pleasure he was giving you. He looked up at the mirror, seeing your body underneath his and got an idea.

He bent you over the mirror, having you look at yourself as he slid inside of you once more. You pressed your hands down on the counter as he began to quicken up the pace, your back flush against his chest as you closed your eyes. He couldn't have that, of course, so he tugged on your hair, forcing you to keep eye contact with him through the mirror. You felt a new wave of arousal coat his cock as he maintained the eye contact, your walls clenching around him tightly. His balls slapped against your ass as he thrusted in deeply and quickly, seeking out for both of you to get to that peak. His thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, gently pinching it as he worked to give you what he could. "You look so pretty taking me like this, tesoro," he moaned out, raising one of his hands to slap your ass. You felt your legs tremble as he continued to hit your g-spot and his thumb stimulated your clit, quickly coming to your orgasm. (treasure)

Your release formed a creamy white ring around the base of his cock, your eyes closed in pure bliss. He pressed your face against the mirror, shaking his head in fake disappointment as he continued to thrust in your pussy, seeking out his own release. "Keep your eyes on the mirror," he said, the command coming out more breathless than he expected. With one final thrust, his cum coated your walls as he fucked into you. He let his chest fall against your back, gripping you tightly as he got his breathing under control. He slipped his softening cock out of you, his fingers pushing the cum leaking from your pussy back inside. You took his fingers in your mouth, sucking them off once more as you tasted the combined release from you two.

He helped you get cleaned up and even cooked up some spaghetti before he laid down in bed with you. He gently rubbed your shoulders as you started to drift off to sleep, his chest flush against your back. "Thank you.. for not giving up on me. I really appreciate it," he whispered, kissing your cheek as he stroked your thigh. "You're a person worth knowing," you replied, turning around to face him as your hand rested on his cheek. You felt yourself growing sleepy from the combined body warmth and how good his fingers felt on your skin. "You can go to sleep, I'll be here in the morning."

He, however, was not there in the morning when you woke up. You thought that after the time you spent getting close to him and especially now after having sex, he would start to open up to the possibility of advancing your relationship. However, it seemed like the act simply pushed him away further and erased the progress you had achieved. You decided to knock on his office door, getting tired of the silent treatment and mixed signals to ask what was going on and he simply responded with, "What we did was a mistake. I'm sorry that you thought we could be something more but you're just a business transaction."

#moon-rivr #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara is hot #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel atsv #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel smut #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman atsv #spiderman smut

[gutsby]

Grow a Uterus and We'll Talk

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff, an absurd amount of baby rabies, and fluff. Don’t blame me if y’all get pregnant.

“You lay one finger on me and I’ll bite it off, Dixon.”

You’d done the same damn dance once a month, every month for the past two years, and you were starting to grow annoyed with your boyfriend’s advances.

“Would it really be tha’ bad if we tried it out…just once?” Daryl huffed.

“I don’t know,” you answered, shrugging, “Grow a uterus and we’ll talk.”

The archer playfully lunged at you from across the couch, but you easily side-stepped and took residence at the far end of the room. You reached for a stiletto to throw at his head if he came any closer.

“Still on the baby business, huh?” Carol called as she strode past the living room toward the kitchen.

“Ya know we’d make some damn cute crotch goblins,” Daryl yelled back. You rolled your eyes.

“That isn’t for you to decide, Daryl,” Carol’s voice seemed to toughen, even give him a scolding look from a distance away, “And if you knock her up before she’s ready, I’ll string you up by your balls and feed you to the walkers.”

The woman did not fuck around—and you loved her for it. Presently, you stuck your tongue out at Daryl as if to say, ‘See? I told you so’ and the man simply scowled. Flopped down on the couch and propped his dirty boots up on the coffee table.

“‘Course I wouldn’t try if ye weren’t ready,” he grumbled, “Jus’ wanted you ta consider it.”

You joined him on the couch and nudged his feet off the table.

“Is that why you’ve been parading every baby in Alexandria in my face for the past six months? Hoping I’d ‘consider’ things a little more?” you quipped, raising both eyebrows.

Daryl paused a beat, seemed to chew on his thoughts for a moment or two. Then he offered you a sheepish grin and said,

“Rick and Michonne really need the free childcare.”

You were itching to grab that high heel again. Before you could, though, a sound thundered through your foyer and the front door was thrown open wide. In the blink of an eye, Rick had stumbled through your entryway, passed off his infant to Daryl like a sack of potatoes, and raced back to the door.

“Rick, what the fuck?!” you shouted before he could escape.

“Date night,” Rick answered in a ragged breath, gripping the door frame while he glanced over at Daryl.

Daryl smiled and held Judith to his chest like she might’ve been the most precious thing in the universe. You narrowed your eyes.

“He put you up to this?” you asked, tipping your chin in Daryl’s direction.

Rick didn’t hesitate; he said that he had. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl shooting daggers at his friend. Promptly, Judith pawed at your boyfriend’s stubbled cheeks and babbled.

Sensing the tension in the air, Carol gathered her belongings and contemplated baking her bread elsewhere—or at least give you and Daryl some space to talk. She started toward the door,

“Walk a lady home?” she said to Rick.

Rick shot her a curious look but accepted anyway. Casting a sidelong glance to the man on the couch and the woman who was currently staring him down with an irate look in her eyes—you—he quickly surmised it was in his best interest to leave. Hopefully Judith was too young to catch on to any curse words that might be hurled in the next several minutes.

“Be good, you three,” Rick gave his parting words before following Carol outside. The door crashed shut behind them.

As soon as it had, you were back on your feet and traipsing out of the room.

“Come on,” Daryl whined.

He followed your steps into the kitchen with Judith still cradled in his arms. There was a pregnant pause as you rifled through your cabinets, wordlessly searching for some ingredients to bake whatever pastry it would take to get your mind off the discomfiture of this situation—you decided on muffins, at length.

It wasn’t like you hated babies. You loved their big bald heads and their pudgy, wobbling legs. You loved the way they giggled and smiled and dribbled food all over their fronts. You didn’t even mind the thought of pregnancy; carrying a pint-sized redneck in your belly for nine months wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. 

It was the world that frightened you most. The thought of a newborn child’s slim chances at surviving a place like this. The fear of that alone was enough to have you fighting that dreadful outcome, tracking your cycle like a hound and fighting Daryl off every month when you knew that day was coming. You’d been pretty successful thus far. But by the looks of the man across the kitchen beaming down at the baby, you weren’t sure how long that winning streak would last.

“Wanna hold her?”

“No.”

“Wanna do her hair?”

“She hasn’t got any.”

Daryl shot you a look of mock indignation and stroked Judith’s head.

“You kiddin’? Little Ass Kicker’s gotta have at least fifteen strands by now,” he retorted, tugging at the short blond tufts as if to prove a point.

Judith smiled a toothless grin up at her Uncle Daryl. You all but had to leave the room to stifle the sounds of your reproductive organs screaming, 'Give that man a baby! NOW!' You clenched your stomach and turned away to start preparing the pans.

Daryl perched Judith on his lap and starting puffing out his cheeks. The infant shrieked with laughter. You assembled the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together on the counter and sought after a bowl.

“Dada, Dada!” Judith chanted. Trying in earnest to say ‘Daryl’ but ending up sounding like she was calling him dad. You dropped the mixing bowl on the countertop with a clatter.

“Daryl, kiddo, Dar-yl,” your boyfriend tried to teach her, enunciating his name a couple more times.

“Dada!” the little tyke howled again as she fisted his shirt in her fingers.

Milk and oil and— eggs. Where are the eggs?

You tore through the fridge and wanted to sob into the shelves with the sheer force of delirium coursing through your veins. Damn you, Charles Darwin, I am not in a place to be procreating right now.

You tried turning your mind to other things—cooking, crying, contemplating the course of human evolution—but when you turned back with the carton of eggs in hand, you almost sent the dozen of them crashing straight to the floor.

Daryl was pinching her chubby cheeks.

If you weren’t so violently inclined to breed a whole new gaggle of progeny with this man, you probably would’ve chucked an egg at his head.

You sighed as you dropped the last of your cooking supplies on the surface of the kitchen island. You planted your hands flat on the granite and stared shamelessly at the two of them. Daryl was feigning ignorance, tapping Judith’s tiny pink nose with the tip of his finger and watching her giggle. When he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, you spun around to kick the oven door shut and cut the appliance off, immediately.

“Alright, you win, you bastard,” you said in a huff.

Daryl looked up from his present occupation, eyeing you innocently.

“What do you mean, hon—”

You cut him short, raising a finger to halt his speech before starting toward the door.

“Shut up,” you muttered as you headed for the stairs, “Meet me up there in five.”

Daryl deposited Judith in her portable playard in a second’s time and went scrambling up those steps faster than he ever had before. 

Silently, speedily, he thanked every one of his lucky stars and his best friend, Rick Grimes.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fluff #fluff #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #daryl dixon one shot #twd imagine

[cariadlovescodwomen]

listen, i get it, i really do, i get that there is a lot more male characters in the game to obsess over, buy could ya please acknowledge the women? pretty please?

i’m scared of annoying people with repeating myself so much, but this is my blog??? 😭 i’ll post about this as much as i want, lmfao

i love them so much that it’s killing me, or the lack of content for them is

re-reading the same four headcanons, two fanfics, non-stop checking one blog over and over again

i’m happy for ghost/soap/price/könig stans… i am not at all envious… not at all… (but why do some of you guys exclude gaz from 141 stuff??)

i’m fed when it comes to valeria, thankfully, but that’s about it (any cod writers that write for valeria, kate, and farah, i love you so much, but i’m way too scared to ever make an ask, even anonymously)

(does anyone else’s social anxiety extend to the internet?? i find posting these things incredibly nerve-racking, i could never ask a STRANGER ON THE INTERNET to maybe write something for me)

#call of duty #valeria garza #kate laswell #farah karim #kleopatros kleo gavras #kleo cod #nila nova brown #nova cod #zé luna míngzhū #luna cod #calisto allard #calisto cod #salvatrice stiletto muselli #stiletto cod #rozlin roze helms #roze cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #mw2 x reader #mwii x reader #look they’re taking up my entire brain #i thought the hyperfixation would’ve ended by now #but it’s still here #and still so strong #cariad won’t stop talking

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Maniac | König x M!Reader | Part I

Note: I had a dream about this after a talk with an AI and just had to write it down. I managed to survive my first exam so take this as a treat, I split it into two parts because it’s 9k Yes, instead of studying for my next exams I wrote this. Also, I can’t fucking write fight scenes what the hell like people get thrown around in this story like they weigh nothing, I’m sorry lmao. Also, this is not corrected and I feel like it’s all over the place but oh well. I suck at code names. Translation of the few words in different languages are at the bottom.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting, Knives, Mentions of Homophobia, Unrealistic depiction of KorTac, the Military in general and uhh hand to hand combat?, Injuries, Angst, Slight NSFW, Slight OOC, Reader got a blood kink oopsie, König as well?? Unrealistic portrayal of lots of things

Summary: König’s relationship with KorTac’s local psychopath is something he himself doesn’t really understand. But when an incident happens and a picture of the two is circling around the army base they’re currently staying at, they finally address what is going on between them...

Word Count: 4,39k

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Part II

Listen... 

He’s a soldier. He dealt with some shit. Trauma and other stuff, you name it. But this actually helps him, at least usually. He’s observant and quickly sees through people’s intentions because he’s always watching. 

But there’s just this one guy. This one man in KorTac who throws him off his game. Sergeant Y/N L/N.

When König first met him, Horangi pointed him out with an “Uh oh, he is here. I’m gonna go on the toilet real quick-” and poof, he left him alone in the cafeteria, completely flabbergasted. 

The man Horangi had meant was standing before Conor, holding a strange combat knife as if he was about to attack the Irishman. 

König had never seen him before but the KorTac logo on his black shirt implied that he was one of them.

“Come on, Conny, it’s been so long”, the soldier goaded while smiling.

To König that expression had been unsettling.

But it wasn’t just that, it was his whole appearance. The all-black attire is in contrast with the landscape of pale scars on the man’s arms and his face and the dark circles under his e/c eyes. And the posture seemed casual and relaxed but König’s fighter instinct told otherwise.

If the Austrian came across him in an abandoned alley, he would be on high alert. 

Even during that moment, witnessing whatever the hell was going on between him and Conor, König’s body had tensed. And the other people in the cafeteria seemed to share his discomfort based on the murmurs going around and all the eyes on the two of them.

Additionally, König knew that Declan had a past reputation for physical altercations, and based on the growing vein on his forehead, it was likely that a fight would break out if no one stopped the KorTac operator.

He didn’t understand what the guy tried to achieve. Was he provoking Conor on purpose? To fight in the middle of the mess hall??

The look in the man’s eyes and the sharp blade in his hand weren’t implying some friendly sparring though...

Thankfully, Stiletto who had been watching with Calisto walked up to them before anything could happen. The badass she was, she grabbed the soldier by the biceps without any hesitation, diverting his focus. 

“Atom, Majka will be on your ass again if you cause another disturbance so soon after your return”, she warned him, her voice sharp. 

The man looked at her hand on his arm, then at her eyes. She didn’t let go.

For a second, König expected Atom to lash out but to his relief, he just held up both of his hands in defeat. He even smiled apologetically.

“You’re right, we can’t have that. Sorry, sorry. My bad, Conor.”

The Irishman showed him the middle finger. 

“Please eat shit and die, Y/N.”

“Awe, come on man. Don’t be so hard on me, I just missed our little fights. It was always so entertaining, even though you lost all the time!” 

“You can spar in the gym during PT, not here. Put that damn knife away, putain” Calisto interceded before Conor could explode. 

Y/N huffed and Salvatrice let go of his arm. He was about to sheathe his knife when his eyes landed on König and they made eye contact.

Something sparked in the e/c eyes and uh oh was all the Austrian could think before the h/c haired man walked over to him, his combat knife still in his hand, smiling widely.

“Who do we have here... Are you new? I’ve never seen you before!” Atom exclaimed, a glint of something in his eyes that König couldn’t quite name. 

The fact that the operator stopped barely a few inches away from him made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Those eyes bore into him and although the man was a head and a half smaller than him, König felt somewhat intimidated.

“Why are you wearing a shirt on your head?”

“I’m-” he began, taking a step back to gain some distance but Y/N followed him until a hand suddenly blocked him off. Horangi had returned.

“He’s König, our new addition to Strazar-1. Atom, can you just let us eat dinner? We’re starving.”

“I’m Sergeant Y/N L/N, but you can call me Atom. König means king in German right?” 

Y/N completely ignored the Korean, still holding eye contact with the tall Austrian. He just nodded. 

At this point, there were many eyes on him and he still was a little jittery because they arrived at the base only a few days ago and the local soldiers stared whenever they saw his height and his mask. It made his social anxiety flare up.

“I’m really fucking hungry, man”, Horangi said again, this time stepping in front of König who backed up, thankful to gain some distance. 

“Then go eat. I want to talk to our friendly giant here.”

Atom’s tone was almost aggressive now. He twirled the knife in his hand, a small smile on his lips as he stared down at Horangi. It didn’t reach his eyes though, they were cold. Fuck off, his expression said.

“I’m actually hungry too”, König says, not wanting to continue this very uncomfortable conversation with this weird guy. Der hat eine an der Waffel, dem geh ich besser aus dem Weg he thought.

“Oh, we can eat together then!”

Y/N was about to turn around and walk to grab a tray when they heard their team leader shout: “Atom, get your ass in my office now!” 

The sergeant swiveled around, saluting Majka who appeared out of nowhere at the mess hall entrance with crossed arms in front of his chest. 

“Jebote, put that fucking knife away and follow me.” 

Majka turned to leave and the soldier clicked his tongue in annoyance but he did as ordered and followed him without dilly-dallying.

König could hear the RS team leader growl You really need to stop swinging that around like it’s your dick when they both left the cafeteria and walked down the hallway.

Horangi turned to him, taking his sunglasses off and massaging his forehead.

“I should’ve known. You’re too tall for your own good, man. He’ll be after you.”

König stared down at him with a frown, not that his friend could see.

“What do you mean??”

Stiletto and Calisto joined them, the two women looking at him with a resemblance of pity. 

“That mec is crazy, König.”

The Italian woman nodded. “It was so peaceful when he was away”, she sighed.

Horangi added: “Yeah. I hope the higher-ups put his ass on another secret mission soon, I don’t want to watch my back 24/7 again.”

König stared at them slowly understanding that Atom seemed to have a pretty bad reputation. But was that really deserved? 

Calisto patted his arm. “Make sure to carry a tactical knife with you wherever you go.” Her tone was dead serious. 

He looked at her and then at the other two. They nodded.

“Are you saying he’ll try to hurt me?”, he asked, his expression a mix of surprise and worry. 

He wasn’t quite sure whether he should believe them. After all, Y/N was in KorTac just like them. They wouldn’t just let a crazy guy work in a PMC right? 

“He won’t kill you”, Stiletto said, turning around to go grab a tray to eat, “but if you don’t watch yourself he might poke you a bit with his Atom Splitter.” 

He tilted his head confused.

“His knife”, Horangi helpfully provided, as they followed Stiletto’s lead, each grabbing a tray and some cutlery to get some food.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” he asked. They loved to play pranks on him.

“You’ll see, big boy.”

And oh, he really did.

-

At first, it was unnerving. Getting jumped whenever he wasn’t looking. He blinked once and before him suddenly stood a grinning Atom, his curved combat knife in hand, ready to strike. 

After the first time getting caught without a weapon and being slammed to the ground, blade held against his throat - Atom’s face with that unsettling grin barely a few inches away from him - he followed Calisto’s advice and brought a knife with him wherever he went. 

Not that he used it to injure the other operator. 

Atom hadn’t really hurt him either in all the fights they had, at least not with the knife. They threw some punches and did some tackling and throws but they never drew blood. This was one of the reasons why König eventually got used to the fighting, even if they always ended with the sharp metal against his throat and he was sore for days after it.

In the beginning, he was anxious that the guy would switch up and one day just drag the blade across his jugular but he never did. Not once did he slice König’s skin, not even by accident. 

Atom’s control over his knife was something he had never seen before. 

His fighting skills were on another level and although the Austrian considered himself an expert in hand-to-hand combat, he knew that he could learn a lot from the sergeant and their fights. When he realized this, his opinion about the attacks turned from unsettling fights into sparring.

Atom actually called it training and König began to agree. 

Even though the h/c haired man attacked him with true killing intent every time. But maybe that was what actually helped him.

It kept him on his toes, his senses sharp. 

And yeah it was a little weird that Y/N targeted him at all times of the day - he had literally attacked him in his sleep once on a mission - and that he always had a wide-eyed grin on his lips when they fought but hey, it drastically improved König’s skills and instincts. 

And after some time he began to even enjoy their little dances. Severely actually. Especially after he won for the first time. 

That moment when their positions had reversed - König’s blade to Atom’s throat for once, his knee digging into his chest to keep him on the ground - he felt an adrenaline rush he never experienced before and it left him feeling what he could only call giddy. 

It was 5am, most of the base was still fairly quiet and Y/N had surprised him in the gym room right when König wanted to go and change his clothes for a morning session.

The sergeant didn’t say anything, just swung his knife and König reacted in the nick of time, having felt something was off. He grabbed his combat knife and they exchanged blows and when Atom extended his arm a bit too far for once, the Austrian took the chance and grabbed him, twisting his body to throw him over his shoulder.

In an instant, he was on top of him, holding a dazed Y/N down with one hand, pressing the blade against his Adam’s apple with the other.

“You got me”, Atom grunted, panting slightly from the exertion of their exchange, his pupils blown wide and once again that familiar grin on his lips. And König returned it under his mask.

“Fuck yeah, I got you”, he said still catching his breath, emphasising a bit of pressure on the blade, not enough to cut the sergeant’s skin but enough for him to feel it.

“That’s 22 to one. Still got a lot to learn, big boy.” 

König rolled his eyes and sheathed his knife. He held his hand out for Atom to take and to his surprise, the h/c haired man actually did. He stood up with his help but without letting himself be pulled. 

“Well, you better be prepared.”

Y/N snorted, something flitted across his face. His smile widened even more.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.” 

He picked up his Atom Splitter where he had dropped it and then turned to walk out of the room, whistling a tune. And so he was off to god knows where, like always.

The Austrian watched him disappear through the doorway and a breathy laugh escaped him. He shook his head somehow amused. How the hell did I reach this point? 

It was so strange to feel enjoyment after another of their exhausting fights. But he truly did enjoy it. The sweet taste of victory.

For a moment he let their sparring replay in his head. He was unsure whether it was just luck or if he actually overpowered Atom. His thoughts returned to the man lying under him, grinning, the e/c of his eyes almost impossible to see with his blown pupils. 

Something stirred in his chest.

He breathed out loudly and then went to go shower, trying to get that image out of his head.

-

A few months pass and one day when König has just returned after an operation in Al Mazrah, he’s on his way to the barracks after showering when he meets Horangi, Zeus, and Conor, the latter clearly agitated. 

“I hope he takes a fuckin dirt nap on his next op!”

“Relax, Declan, it looked like he was actually trying to help this time”, Zeus said, handing the Irishman a cool pack. The redhead put it on his nose which looked swollen. 

“Help?! The fecker can’t even-” Horangi interrupted Conor’s tirade with a “König, hey! You’re back!” 

He greeted them with a wave. “What happened?”, he asked motioning at Declan, pressing the cool pack against his face. 

“That nut job Atom-” he begins but Horangi interrupts him once more: 

“The marines are causing some trouble. Apparently, we’re overstaying our welcome, there’s a lot of tension, and Majka and Ridgeback are discussing things with the higher-ups for us to move to another base. Atom... isn’t really helping with the tension...”

“The cunt pulled his knife on one of their new captains!”

“He probably missed you”, Zeus jokingly adds, addressing the fact that the KorTac operator with his madman reputation hasn’t targeted anyone else but König since they started sparring together. 

The Austrian snorts, the thought would’ve never crossed his mind. 

But a few hours later after he parted ways with the three, the door to the room he shares with the other male KorTac operators gets thrown open with a loud bang and lo and behold; Y/N stands in the doorframe, in his hand his trusty Atom Splitter.

His heartbeat immediately picks up in anticipation.

The sergeant looks somewhat different. The dark circles under his eyes appear to be even darker than usual and he even has some stubble as if he hasn’t shaved in a few days.

Atom’s expression is unreadable until his eyes find König, sitting on his bunkbed at the far end of the room. 

“There you are!” he says joyfully and rushes over, reaching him with just a few strides. 

He stops, looming over König who’s still sitting on the bed. Their legs touch, he’s standing so close. König puts the book in his hands away, trying to appear casual and he looks up to him.

“Atom.”

“König.”

For a minute they just stare into each other’s eyes. The silence feels awkward, something is simmering in the air and König’s grip on his switchblade under his pillow turns sweaty. His chest flutters, a nervousness he knows only too well. He can feel heat radiate from where their legs touch.

Y/N’s look is different than usual. He seems to consider something.

“You...”, he begins, the sergeant’s eyes trailing to his backpack on the floor that he hasn’t unpacked yet, “had fun on the mission?”

König blinks, the sudden question throwing him off. 

He was expecting a knife aiming at his chest, not a small talk question. They never do small talk. He can’t even remember if Atom ever asked him a question after they first met that day in the cafeteria. 

They talk smack. But they don’t talk about their personal life or time or their favorite color. König only knows Atom’s age because Zeus told him he’s older by two years.

“I- uh... well, not really”, he says after the initial surprise wears off. Al Mazrah was just sweat, dirt, and not enough sleep.

Y/N nodded slowly, humming in acknowledgment. 

“It wasn’t fun here either”, he says light-heartedly while looking towards the door and casually twirling his knife in his hand but something in his posture tells König that Atom is not feeling relaxed at all. Rather he seems tense.

“Why’s that?”, he asks with an almost soft voice. He looks up at him.

The man remains quiet. König remembers Horangi’s words about the marines and although he’s curious, he doesn’t want to prod, and based on the sudden halt of Atom’s knife twirling, they won’t talk in the next few minutes anyways.

“Doesn’t matter”, Y/N starts, his signature grin forming on his lips, “You know why I’m here.”

He steps away from him, bowing mockingly. König rolls his eyes, seeing this as his cue to stand up. He pulls his knife from under the pillow, activates the blade, and stands tall, now towering over Atom.

“Since when do you announce your intentions?”, he asks, slight amusement can be heard in his voice. 

“Just today, since I missed you”, Y/N replies and the Austrian can’t even be surprised that Zeus was actually right or question the flutter in his chest because in the next second Atom Splitter is aimed at his chest and he blocks the knife in the nick of time. 

Their dance begins. But something’s different this time. The h/c haired man isn’t showing any killing intent at all while he attacks. It throws him off his game a bit.

Additionally, König quickly realizes that the barracks aren’t a good place for him to fight, the space between the bunkbeds isn’t that big and his size makes it hard for him to move his body effectively. 

He retreats towards the door, luring Atom towards the front of the room where there’s more space. Y/N follows him eagerly, taking the chance to stab at him with a knowing look on his face. 

The Austrian isn’t sure if it’s his own exhaustion after the op or if Y/N got some Dragon Ball power-up during their time apart but he understands that, unlike their last fights, Atom is not taking him seriously, instead he’s teasing him. And somehow it annoys him. 

The sergeant throws a glove from Hutch’s bed at him and he ducks, when a sock follows, blocking his eyes for a second. He receives a kick to his thigh as a reward.

“No fighting dirty!” he protests, knowing full well that Y/N is just trying to agitate him like he often does. 

“Tell that to all the hostiles out there!” Atom responds, grinning, dodging König’s knife effortlessly. The giant snorts.

“They wouldn’t throw a goddamn sock at me!”

He blocks the Atom Splitter, a few inches away from his throat. 

“Based on the smell, it could be considered a biological weapon, so yeah, they would”, the sergeant responds, laughing, blocking the other’s fist.

König rolls his eyes, cursing when he gets kicked again at the same place. Y/N dives low and picks up Hutch’s sock again attempting to throw it once more, grinning.

Oh no, you don’t!

König seizes his knife arm and he flips Atom onto the ground in one swift motion, holding his arms down with his legs on each side of his torso, pressing his knife against the sergeant’s throat.

“Got you”, he pants, knowing that Y/N probably let it happen. But it doesn’t matter. His knife reached his collar first. In their usual terms, it’s his win.

The h/c haired man lifts his hips in a fake attempt at throwing him off while grinning widely, the knife digging into his skin, almost drawing blood. "Come on König, we just started..."

“You’re crazy”, the Austrian says, shaking his head, smiling weakly under his mask, “have you ever considered therapy?”

The h/c haired man laughs an amused look on his face. “Fighting is my therapy.”

“You could use a punching bag then.”

Atom shakes his head and replies: “Why should I? I’m having so much fun when sparring with you. I can let go of all my pent-up stress.”

König can see that he means it, there’s a glow in the e/c eyes. He looks rejuvenated. So ein komischer Kerl.

“Why not let off some steam elsewhere?”, he begins, a thought forming in his head when he realizes that they haven’t competed against each other in anything besides sparring. 

Y/N stares at him with a surprised expression but he quickly smiles, intrigued.

“Oh? What do you suggest?”, he asks, lifting his head to lean closer, his voice suddenly deeper. 

König retracts his knife and stands up, deactivating the switchblade.

“How about- and hear me out - an obstacle course? Winner gets to boast about it to the others and loser will take his guard shifts for the next two weeks? Sound good?”

Atom wrinkles his nose, clearly not interested. He sits up, propping up his arm on his knee, twirling his knife. He clicks his tongue in disappointment.

“I’m good thanks.”

König holds out his hand and he grabs it, standing up swiftly. Instead of letting go, the Austrian keeps holding on, staring down at Y/N.

“Are you scared? What - you’re only confident in putting a knife against someone's throat? Makes you feel tough?”, he provokes him, grinning underneath his mask.

He’s feeling daring today after having won that fight and seeing Atom so playful.

The sergeant looks up at him, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re misunderstanding”, he begins, pulling his hand away with force, “I get excited when a knife is against someone’s throat. Try riling up Horangi with these remarks, he cares about stupid contests like that.” He sighs dramatically. “This got boring real quick.”

He dusts off his shirt and König crosses his arms over his chest.

“So you’re calling me a bore?”, he asks acting offended.

“Here I was thinking you’re having the time of your life when fighting me.”

He made a swiping motion over his mask as if wiping away a tear. “Okay then, let’s make this exciting again.”

König activates his switchblade once more, lazily holding it against Y/N’s throat. He tilts his head as if asking: you good now?

Atom just looks up at him, his brows knitted, somewhat annoyed. 

“Don’t tease me, König”, he grunts, “You can’t handle the consequences.”

The Austrian ignores his warning and he smirks: “What's the matter, sarge? Getting excited?”

Atom harshly grabs him by the collar, pulling him down, while simultaneously snatching his mask, lifting it against his eyes, covering them with the fabric. 

“Wha-”, he begins but gets silenced by the sudden pressure on his lips and the taste of coffee. 

It isn’t a kiss, it’s more like Atom is trying to bite him. 

König’s subconscious reaction is to shove him away, but Y/N’s grip on his collar is tight. 

After a few seconds, the sergeant lets go and retreats and König automatically gasps for air, utterly shocked about Y/N’s action. 

"What the hell are you doing-?!”, he asks, staring at the man who just smiles, his e/c eyes dark. 

He looks down at König’s knife and then touches his throat, wiping his thumb across it and then he licks it while holding eye contact with him.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, König.”

And then Y/N turns and walks through the open door. He disappears. Just like that, leaving the flabbergasted Austrian alone in the room, breathing heavily.

What the fuck?? Is his only thought. What the absolute fuck?! 

Did that really just happen? He stares at his hands, he’s still holding the knife. The blade is slightly red. 

He cut him. 

König is the first one to actually draw blood. 

Oh, mein Gott. He could’ve killed him. Had he actually pushed him, he could’ve-

No matter the absolute loop the kiss is throwing him into, he’s more concerned about Atom’s well-being and without thinking any further he hurries out of the room trying to follow wherever Y/N could’ve gone. 

In the hallway, he passes a marine who looks at him strangely for running so fast. 

König reaches the end of the corridor where it parts into two ways. He goes left.

In the end, he doesn’t find Y/N and instead meets Stiletto and Roze who stop their conversation immediately when they see him turn around the corner, frantically looking around.

“König? You good?” Roze asks. He shakes his head. “Have you seen Atom?”

Stiletto lifts an eyebrow. “No? Why?”

He uses his mask to wipe the building anxiety sweat from his face. “I injured him, in a- a fight. He’s bleeding.”

The two women look at each other, they’re clearly taken aback by the concern in his voice. 

“Maybe he went to the infirmary?”, they suggest and he nods. Yeah, that makes sense. Before they can add anything else, he’s off.

A few minutes later he reaches the infirmary where their medic is currently stationed. 

“Vic, did Atom pass by?” he asks when bursting into the room. She’s eating an apple and continues scribbling something in a file, completely unfazed by his dramatic entrance.

“Nope”, she says, popping the p. 

“I accidentally cut his throat”, he explains. 

She hums in annoyance. “I didn’t ask- you cut his throat?” The woman looks up, lifting an eyebrow at him with a deadpan expression.

“Shallowly- I think. I wanted to know if he came to take care of it.”

She takes off her glasses and kneads the bridge of her nose. “No, he didn’t. You sure it was shallow?”

He nods slowly. “There isn’t much blood on my knife.” He holds it up to her, activating the blade. She looks at him, then the knife, and then back at him, before sighing. 

“König, get the fuck out of here.”

“Can you tell me if he-”

 “Now!”

She points at the door. He walks out without protesting and softly closes the door behind him.

In the hallway, he just stands there for a minute. 

The last ten minutes feel like a fever dream. His mind is blank as he stares at the mental health awareness poster on the opposite wall, the only questions in his mind why did he kiss me? and did I really like it?

Part II

___

Translations (freely mostly)

putain - French: “fuck” in this context meant more like “idiot”

Der hat eine an der Waffel, dem geh ich besser aus dem Weg - German: “He lost his mind, I’d better avoid him”

Jebote - Serbo-Croatian: “For fuck’s sake”

mec - French: “dude, guy”

So ein komischer Kerl - German: “Such a weird guy”

Oh, mein Gott - German: “Oh, my god”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare II #cod:mw2 #cod:mwii #cod #könig #cod könig #könig x reader #x male reader #könig x male reader #kortac #kortac reader #stiletto #calisto #zeus #klaus #cod horangi #reader #part I #fanficsforheartandsoul

[waterlilydrops]

Jealous Looks Good On You

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

summary: Lewis can’t stand you flirting with other men anymore, even though there isn’t anything real between you two. For now.

word count: 2.1k

warning: angst, fwb to lover, 18+ only, nsfw, explicit sex content, oral sex(f received), dirty talk, slightly Dom/Sub, edging, actress!reader, mentions of film Anatomie D’une Chute

note: That’s inspired by an anon, thx! I really enjoy describing Lewis kneeling down :) As always, advices are welcome.

Tonight marked your debut at the Caesar Awards. Following your recent collaboration on Anatomie D’une Chute with Justine Triet, where you showcased exceptional chemistry, and the film clinched six awards at Cannes, your life took a dramatic turn.

Looked at your publicist, she nodded encouragingly, signaling for you to make your grand entrance.

Stepping out of the limo, your Jimmy Choo stilettos firmly planted on the ground, you exuded confidence. No longer clad in the Zara dress from the roadshow, you donned a perfectly fitted Dior dress, meticulously altered by several experts to your exact measurements. As you emerged from the luxurious car, the dress swayed gracefully, complemented by Cartier jewelry adorning your neck, items you hadn’t dared to look closely even in the most prominent billboards.

As you began walking down the carpet, fans and photographers started calling your name as soon as they recognized you. It was a surreal moment, and you felt overwhelmed with emotion. Never in a million years would you have imagined that people would know you and actually like you.

You smiled and waved at the fans, blew them a kiss to show your appreciation.

Turning to your publicist, you asked if you could go over and sign a couple of autographs, and she nodded in agreement. With her guidance, you made your way over to the fans, ready to meet them up close. You signed autographs, took selfies, and even shared hugs with a few fans.

When you were told to go for the red carpet interviews, you said bye to them and continued walking along the carpet. Standing beside the host was an young actor from a recent blockbuster film.

His mocha-colored skin glowed under the bright lights, accentuating the sharp contours of his jawline. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, sparkled with an enigmatic allure, like hidden depths of a lush forest.

You walked up the steps and gave them a side hug.

“Hello Y/N, how does it feel being at the Caesar Awards?” The host asked you.

“In all honesty, I’m a bit overwhelmed. I grew up watching you interview celebrities, admiring your skill and professionalism, and now I find myself in there interviewing by you — it just doesn’t feel real yet!” you answered with a light laugh.

“We are absolutely thrilled to have you here! Now you’re making me feel old!” He laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in, his easygoing demeanor helping to calm your nervousness. He continued, “Now, about the Anatomie D’une Chute, was it difficult to handle such a complex character?”

“It’s always daunting to step into uncharted territory, especially when tackling such a multifaceted character. Fortunately, having collaborators as gifted as Justine Triet, Sandra Hüller by my side made the journey infinitely more rewarding. They truly were my anchor through it all, and I owe their everything.”

As you were engrossed in conversation, your heart skipped a beat as your fingers brushed against your borrowed necklace, which suddenly slipped off. With a gasp, you watched in horror as it tumbled downward, a shimmering cascade of precious diamonds.

Acting on instinct, the young man standing beside you swiftly sprang into action, his chivalrous instincts kicking in as he intercepted the necklace just before it could kiss the ground.

You let out a breathless sigh of relief, momentarily forgetting the interview as you exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, thank you so much for catching it. Otherwise, Cartier would have my head!”

He gave a small, bashful smile, “Would it be too much if I ask to put it on you?”

“Not at all.” you smiled at him and his smile stretched across his entire face.

And so you turned around and scooped your hair up, allowing him to graze the back of his fingers ever so gently across your skin and secure your jewelry where it once was.

That evening, the video of the young celebrity putting a necklace on you went viral on social media. Everyone marveled at the sparks flying between you two, especially after the almost cheek-to-cheek selfie you took at the afterparty. Among the millions who viewed the clip, one pair of eyes lingered longer than the rest — Lewis Hamilton.

Of course, he followed you and your fan pages on his alternate account; Those videos would certainly appear on his reels. But he truly despised seeing you walking with another man on your arm. You seemed awfully comfortable around him, your hands touching him easily and your body tilted towards his.

“Looks like you were having fun.”

“It’s none of your business, Lew.”

Lewis tried to hold back his scoff. It’s none of your business. As if you were just casual acquaintances. As if you didn’t nuzzle into his chest at night, his arousal awakening to find your legs draped provocatively over his hips. As if you didn’t welcome him with a sultry smile, intertwining their fingers after passionate encounters, your thumb tracing teasing circles on the back of his hand as you share intimate secrets of your past. As if you didn’t prefer his hoodie over your own clothes, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin, or eagerly moan his name from the other end of a steamy video call.

But yeah. None of his business.

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

Lewis was driving a sleek silver sports car on the roads of South France. The car zoomed past the twisting roads, its engine emitting a deep roar, leaving a blurry trail of exhaust in the air. The spring breeze brushed against his face, tousling his braids, but it didn’t calm him down. He just wanted to go faster.

As you turned the doorknob and opened the door, Lewis stood before you.

Inviting him inside, his gaze immediately met yours with an intensity that didn’t go unnoticed. Oh. You recognized the familiar signs – the darkening of his eyes, the tightness of his jaw. his knuckles, tightly gripping the edge of his hoodie’s hem, displayed a tension you couldn’t ignore.

He looked god damn handsome.

“Lewis, What’s gotten into you?”

“Do you honestly think it’s none of my business?” he questioned straightly, his frustration evident in his tone.

Raising a brow, you met his gaze steadily.

“I do actually,” you replied, a hint of amusement coloring your words. “Why do you care so much anyway? It's not like we’re in an actual relationship or something.”

The truth between yours was that one day at a premier of your film held in Monte-Carlo, Lewis and you crossed paths and exchanged a few lines.

“Congratulations on your wonderful film”,“Thank you, Mr. Hamilton, I really appreciate it”, “And I must admit, You’re even more stunning in person than you are on screen.” he added with a charming smile.

And just like that, Amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, your encounter marked the beginning of something unexpected. What had started as a casual fuck swiftly evolved into a friends-with-benefits arrangement, two souls found solace in each other’s company, navigating the delicate balance between passion and discretion amidst the azure coastline.

“And what the hell was with you? Do you even know how bad it would be if the media find you were speeding driving—”

“Then let's make this real.”

Lewis interrupted you with a declaration. “I‘m done with this charade.”

His voice tinged as he stood before you, his hands clasped tightly together, “I’d be a better choice than that actors. F1 is a global sport, and I’m a seven-time World Champion.” His eyes were searching for any sign of agreement or understanding. “Plus, We understand each other better, in various ways.” He expressed his points as clearly as if he were speaking at the UN.

“8-time actually.” You corrected him, causing a groan rasped out of him.

“Lewis,” you whispered, inched closer, invaded his personal space and allowed your bodies to touch.

“What?” he grunted roughly, his body betraying him as it relaxed under your touch.

“Are you jealous?” Your hand rested on his, a playful grin dancing on your lips, your voice a seductive murmur grazing his skin.

“Yes. I’m deeply in love with you,” Lewis sighed, his gaze wandering, avoiding your intense stare.

“Hmm, is Lewis Hamilton is asking me to be his... girlfriend? and apparently he is an extremely jealous type.” You feigned innocence with a playful tilt of you head.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He suddenly gripped your arms, pulling you close against his chest. Before you could react, he fiercely pressed his lips to yours, kissing you passionately as if he wanted to pour all of his emotions into this moment.

“Hey,” when Lewis stopped, you said gently. “Look at me, baby.” You called him by the name reserved for your most intimate moments.

Caught in the warmth of your gaze, Lewis relaxed. With a tender gesture, you leaned in, brushing a feather-light kiss upon his lips, your hands still entwined.

“I know,” you whispered softly. “I’m in love with you too.”

He could feel his heart engulfed in a whirlwind of joy and elation, every beat resonating with an overwhelming sense of happiness.

As your gazes locked, the tension between you ignited, enveloping you in a cocoon of desire.

You wrapped in Lewis’s arms as he initiated a passionate kiss. You could feel the prominence of his erection pressing against you.

As his hands found their place on your hips, you felt a sudden lift, your body effortlessly rising from the floor as he gently deposited you onto the counter.

Moving large tattooed hands up the length of your thighs, Lewis hiked your T-shirt up above your hips and tucked his fingers under the waistband of your panties. A mixture of desire and reverence floods him as he slides them down your legs.

He panted, “fuck, I need to taste you.”

He knelt before you, drawing himself nearer as he firmly grasped the underside of your thighs, his hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mound.

Mere seconds stretched into an eternity as the warmth of his breath caressed your delicate skin.

His tongue gently grazed the sensitive inner thighs, his warm and moist mouth enveloping the lips. And then tongue cunningly explored the slit, alternating between tight purses and sucking, causing juices to flow freely.

You couldn’t make a sound, your thoughts wholly consumed by each flick of his tongue, every firm press against you, and every pass of his hands over your thigh. He were pushing you to the edge of the cliff. Unable to resist, you lightly rubbed against his face, eager for release.

You closed eyes, feeling every tiny current coursing through your body. Just as the sparks were about to ignite, his tongue suddenly leaved.

“Can’t have you cumming yet, baby.” He looked up at you, wicked grin grown.

“Tell me, can he eat you out like this?”

You couldn’t utter a word, shaking your head eagerly. You groaned at the loss of him. You pussy felt open and empty without his tongue.

“So, he’s already tasted your little cunt?”Lewis slapped at your clit relentlessly. His gaze, a mix of jealousy and anger, consumed every inch of you with insatiable hunger, resenting the pleasure you were receiving from someone else.

You gasped sharply, a desperate “never”escaping your lips, reached down and tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head into you, with pleading eyes.

“My Good girl.” He lowered his head, the scruff of his beard rubbing against the skin of your sensitive thighs added to the overwhelming sensation of being held into place by his strong hands and that tongue fucking every part of your cunt so thoroughly.

He picking up his pace as he desperately sucked and slurped the folds of your pussy, lapping up your juices as if he were starved and this was the only thing that’d quell his insatiable hunger.

“Let go,” he moaned into you, “come on, baby, let me taste it.”

Your toes curled as you finally gave in to that all too familiar feeling, trembling in his grasp as he brought you to climax with his mouth, and it took every ounce of restraint to not screaming out in pleasure.

As you gradually descended from your euphoric peak, the man followed up with a series of slow, drawn-out licks, gently coaxing you back to reality. Moments later, he rose from the floor, his chin glistening with a sweet combination of drool and your own essence. He pressed one final, tender kiss to your lips.

“Bedroom, babe,” he murmurs, he voice husky with desire. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Lew, what’s the deal with this contact and your credit card?”

“My stylist. Maybe she could help with your red carpet look.”

“And the card?”

“Grab yourself a tough necklace that never comes off your neck.”

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smut

[hysteria-things]

REQ! I was listening to closer chainsmokers and it reminded me of chris.. 🫣

CLOSER

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub(ish)/soft dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: chris hasn’t had sex in a hot minute, and he’s getting sexually frustrated. even his own brothers nag him about it when they’re at the bar… and then he sees you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, drinking, dry humping, palming, p in v, stomach bulge, overstimulation, slight spanking/grabbing

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,213

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞:

THANK YOU FOR 2,000 FOLLOWERS I WANT TO GIVE YOU GUYS SMOOCHES SO BAD🫶

they’re set to be twenty-one in this!

the modernness of the hotel restaurant makes it seem fancier than it is. chris needs an alcoholic beverage, so he’s sat at the bar waiting for his drink.

“thanks,” he says to the bartender, chugging it in a few seconds.

he’s been annoyed lately, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s because he hasn’t been getting as much action recently. even his brothers pointed it out, and matt’s voice still rings in his head.

“you need to get laid, man. we’re on vacation. find a pretty girl and do your thing; you’re long overdue.”

he sighs, dragging his hands on his face. then, a laugh fills his ear. he turns his head to the source.

you’re sitting just a few seats down, laughing with your girls and clinking drinks. his eyes scan your body that’s dressed in a tight dress and some high heels.

you have a full face of makeup on, and jewelry decorating your ears and neck.

licking his lips, he clenches the empty cup tightly in his hands. it’s humiliating, to say the least, but his dick twitches. you’re just so beautiful.

one of your friends catches him, and she taps you on the shoulder and points to chris. he clears his throat, quickly turning the other way.

you turn your head to where she’s pointing and look back at her. “what?” you question.

“he was eye-fucking you, girl.” your other friend says, wiggling her eyebrows. “you should talk to him.”

you chuckle. “that’s silly.”

“it’s been too long since you’ve been dicked down.” she says, getting up from the barstool and dragging you off your own. “go. shoo, shoo!”

she pushes you to him, annoyingly tutting before walking over and leaning against the bar. “can i have a tray of tequila shots, please.” you ask, eyeing the handsome boy next to you.

he adjusts his shirt. “i like your tattoo.”

you glance down at the heart tattoo you have on your shoulder. something cute you got when you’ve turned eighteen. “thank you.”

the bartender brings you the tray, but you stay put. “what’re you doing here?” you ask, twirling your hair when he finally makes eye contact.

he stares at your lips. “a holiday with my brothers. you?”

you point behind you. “my friend’s wedding.”

you turn to your two friends to see that they’re whispering, nodding at you, giving you the okay to leave with him.

he smirks when you take two shots off the tray and down them. you grab his hand so you can lead the way.

obviously, he doesn’t question anything.

you walk to the hotel parking lot and go to where your range rover is.

the two of you give each other those eyes, and chris can’t help but get hard at the sight of it. you look down and smirk.

you open the back door and push him inside, his back leaning against the door on the opposite side.

chest heaving, his body fills with adrenaline when you shut the door behind you and lift your dress to teasingly take down your underwear.

he can’t say words, he can only admire you and your actions. he’s been waiting to do this for too long.

you unbuckle his pants and slide them down, underwear still on. straddling his lap still in your stilettos, you grind your bare pussy onto his clothed dick.

he exhales shakily, grabbing your hips to guide yourself harder onto his erection.

the way his tip brushes on your clit has him moaning underneath you, the same coming from you.

you grab his shoulders and lean in, your lips hovering centimeters away from his. “i-i never got your name.” he stammers between groans.

you smile. “y/n.”

“i’m chri— oh.” he’s cut off when you start to palm him, still rutting your hips.

“what’s that?”

“chri— mm.” you rub harder, feeling his twitching as you grab and caress his dick.

“chris?”

“y-yeah. f-fuck.” he grunts, thrusting into your hand and seeping his cum through his boxers. you purse your lips, pulling down his undergarments so they rest on his thighs. you’re so wet, and you want him inside you. bad.

“it’s nice to meet you, chris,” you whisper, connecting your lips with his as you align yourself with him. you underestimated how huge he was, and you whine in the kiss.

you need to spread your legs wider to fit him inside you.

you moan softly, bouncing on him with your mouths grazing each other, lips red from the desirable need you have for him. he’s like a magnet, pulling you closer and not wanting to stop.

your heart pounds in your chest, your noses sliding against one another. he feels so good.

his hands run gently up your back, eyes not leaving the bulge that’s protruding in your tummy. this has never happened to you before, and you scream-like moan when you feel it each time you plop yourself back on him.

“so big,” you whine, making out with him as your tongues intertwine.

“i’m cumming!” you exclaim, throwing your head back when his tip slides in repeatedly and touches your g-spot.

cum drips out of your pussy, spilling onto your thighs and his base smoothly. he moans at the sight.

the windows fog up as the car rocks, and the slap of your ass on his thighs can be heard along with your high-pitched moans. he bites the tattoo on your shoulder, leaving a red and purple mark on it.

your legs shake violently, but you don’t stop. instead, you bounce harder and faster. “sh-shit, s-slow down.”

“i can’t!” you squeal, completely drunk from the way his dick feels. the way it bulges has you clenching already, your walls getting used to the shape of him.

he’s starting to feel overstimulated, swollen from the way you’re stimulating not only him; but yourself.

“y-your cock feels so good! i lo— i love it too much!” his hands grab onto your hips, guiding you down at just the right angle that has your eyes crossing and your brain feeling foggy from the pleasure.

chris chuckles. “i-i’m not gonna last much longer.”

“i don’t care. i ju-just need you inside me, please.” you whimper, starting to get sloppy when your orgasm approaches. you try to kiss him again, but your mouth is wide open as babbles and noises come out. “oh. fu— so go-od… so good!”

brunette strands stick to his head from sweating, licking his lips when he starts twitching once again. “i’m gonna cum, gorgeous.” he says, giving your ass a soft slap before gripping it. “you want it all, don’t you, sweet thing?”

“yes, yes, yes!” you chant, slumping forward when your release gushes around him like the last time. “i-i need it. please, cum. p-please.”

when you feel his cum paint your walls, you sigh of relief. you try to keep bouncing, but he holds you still and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

he lifts you off of him, placing you back down so he can hold you close as he rubs your back in a calming manner.

not knowing how much time passed, you guys lay there in comfortable silence. it’s like time didn’t pass at all, as if you’re never getting older.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

[colbystoes]

Stilettos

colby brock x fem!reader

summary: Colby says a dirty fact about him but secretly about you in a truth or drink video with sam and fans connect it towards you.

BTW: reader loves stilettos

—

20 minutes into the video.

“Whats a kink about you?” Sam reads the question asked out loud. Sam and Colby decided to ask for questions for their truth or drink. There was kinky ones and corny ones here and there but they only picked out the juiciest for both.

“well… i love stilettos, i love when a girl wears them. Its so hot” he chuckled at the end. He loved when you wore your tall skinny heels in bed. He loved it.

They continued one with the video with more comments on you but in secret.

—

Instagram

Y/U/N

❤️by colbybrock and 1,292,573 others..

Caption:

I ❤️ stilettos.

comments

user828373: did colby say that he loved stilettos??

|

idk827273: YES OMG THEYRE PROB DATING??

user8283747: r u with colby???

see more…

—

The fact that you owned stilettos and colby always had them in his room when filming, fans started connected the fact that you two had some sexual relations. You were KNOWN for your high heels and it was obvious it was about you.

He wouldnt noticed the tall skinny heels in the background of videos while editing so it lead fans to speculate if it was a sign, it happened a few more times that there would be pairs in the bathroom, closet and even in the entry way of his room. Only your close friends knew about y’all.

-

“colby did you say something about me and my stilettos in a video? because all my comments are about that.” I asked, puzzled about the situation.

“yes i did, and what about it beautiful?” he said, with a beaming grin. He had a wide and stupid smile with a blush across his cheeks. I knew his loved my stilettos but a kink? It was so cheesy to me.

I jumped on him n snuggled my face into his neck while his arms snaked around my waist. “I didnt know you loved them that much.” You can tell he was very..excited.

—

this is vv much short but its smth small because i have a longer oneshot coming out!!

#colby brock #sam and colby #sam golbach #snc #colby brock x reader

[bones4thecats]

Jamil, Leona, Idia and malleus, with a s/o who is like Loid or Yor from Spy family please (where they talk about what their life was like whether the reader is a spy or an assassin)

Having An S/O Similar to Yor Briar

Type of Writing: Request Name: Having An S/O Similar to Yor Briar Characters: Jamil Viper, Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, and Malleus Draconia Requester: @marinahavik

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for not posting something like this in a while. I’ve been busy with some of my family and friends’ issues. Also, due to this reader being inspired by Yor Briar, there are slight spoilers for the Spy x Family manga and anime. Have a great rest of your days/nights!

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Yor Briar! S/O ; An Assassin for the Al-Asim Family

🐍 You’ve been working alongside the Al-Asim family for multiple years, maybe ever since you were a young tot and needed to care for your younger brother

🐍 As one of their top assassins for any suspicious activity at such a young age, many believed you were weaker than them, especially when it was learned you didn’t know many spells, but you were rumored to have a powerful unique spell

🐍 Due to the power you held with this spell, you were put on a mission to watch over the oldest Al-Asim son, Kalim, and help around with your oldest friend, Jamil, when caring for the youthful boy

🐍 Ever since you first joined the two in Night Raven College, you and Jamil quickly became known as the parents of Scarabia

🐍 You were a terrible cook, even worse than Kalim. And Jamil learned this when he sent you a message and asked if you could put the chicken in the oven and he came back to a load of Scarabia students watching as you panicked and tried putting out a load of smoke

🐍 Many fear your anger. Including your boyfriend. This was shown on two occasions;

🐍 You had been watching your younger brother, who was 10, when a Savanaclaw student had come by and began to harass Yuri. And when you noticed that he tried to swipe him with his claws, you took out your golden stiletto-type weapons and held them to his throat, giving him the hardest glare ever. One that caused Leona to look at you with his ears slightly down and his tail fully down in fear

🐍 The second time was when someone had tried to send a duo of flying-blades towards Kalim and Jamil, only for you to knock them back and tackle them down after knocking them around like a ragdoll, much to Kalim’s admiration and Jamil’s slight fear and attraction

🐍 Jamil knows you prefer to be given missions leading you to harm those that harm others, and he respects you for that. Especially when you had stood up and refused a mission due to the need of harming one innocent person, you really were sweet

🐍 He also enjoys watching you interact the younger siblings of Kalim’s and the children around Scarabia and the Scaling Sands, just seeing how sweet and gentle you were with them versus how you were with others was cute to him

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Yor Briar! Reader ; The Sunset Savannah’s Royal Assassin

🦁 When Leona first met you, you had just begun your teachings from the previous assassin from the Kingscholar family. Your training was hard, but it made you feel good that you were going to protect such important and good people

🦁 Leona had just come outside for a nap away from his brother when he saw you using small bamboo-sticks as swords for your training as your sensei went away for a moment to speak to Kifaji

🦁 Ever since he first approached you and asked what you were doing with bamboo, you were inseparable. You both trained together, becoming stronger with both your physicality and with your magical abilities

🦁 He would rather die than admit this, but Leona loves how sweet you are outside of your job. Many guards are professional both in and out of their job, which bored the second-born prince

🦁 But you? You were very serious and seductive when working away, but you outside of it all was very homey. You would smile at him and make him feel like he gained a glimpse of the heavens at that moment

🦁 He loves to flirt with you, seeing how flustered and embarrassed you get makes him laugh. I mean, you basically kill for a living, yet you're nervous about a comment of how beautiful you were?

🦁 When he first saw you cook, he was scared shitless.

🦁 Leona knew you weren't the best at it, but watching as Ruggie and Jack ran in and out with buckets of water and fire-extinguishers made him look at you with dumbfound. Now he knows not to let you cook for his family at any time unless certain you can do it without any kind of fire

🦁 Leona also enjoys seeing you fight with the other Savanaclaw members. He knows that they're strong, and every-time they challenge him for his housewarden position, he has them fight you to prove they could go against him

🦁 He knows you can knock him on his ass, and you know these pups were no match for him. But nobody was going to voice these out loud, now were they?

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Yor Briar! Reader ; Hunter for S.T.Y.X. and Assassin for Shroud House

🎮 You have worked underneath the Shroud family since you were young. And you always heard from your superiors that the heir to the company was pathetic for locking himself away

🎮 Pushing their thoughts away, you had begun to praise the young Idia whenever you saw him working on a project of his. You had even come across him working on his Ortho-project. And seeing as you didn't judge him, rather you sympathized with him, since your younger brother, Yuri, and you were alone without parents, Idia was shocked

🎮 Idia, as you grew together, noticed that you would go out to gather some Blot-Monsters for S.T.Y.X., and when he asked his mother and father about how dangerous it was one day, they looked at each other and chuckled before telling him about his feelings

🎮 You guys are a very flustered couple. While you are by-far more physically affectionate, whenever your boyfriend had a moment of confidence, you become the ball of red underneath the blanket he gave you

🎮 He adores seeing you try helping out Ortho with his errands, but he also learned to put a piece of memory in his brother's metal brain telling him to not allow you to cook. He doesn't need a massive fire in the tech-filled kitchen again...

🎮 Seeing you go from innocent and loving to dangerous and hostile is something that Idia also loves. It makes him feel like he is worth protecting and isn't a complete waste of space. This also makes Ortho happier, his brother's dopamine and serotonin levels are rising!

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Yor Briar! Reader ; Royal Assassin for the Draconia Family

🐉 Malleus has known you for many years, you had first started working for his family a few years prior to your third-year in Night Raven College

🐉 He had seen how you would stand beside his grandmother, Maleficia Draconia, and just observe others while still holding small and daring conversations with others. He also noticed how much of a liking she and Lilia took to you, it was amazing

🐉 Now many can catch the eyes of the Queen of Briar Valley along with the Captain of their Guard. So, when it was announced that you had also caught the eye of the Prince of the land? Oh boy, did everyone believe you were a walking ball of luck

🐉 Your personality is the main reason that Malleus fell for you. You were very sweet and caring for others, despite your role of harming others that tried killing any royal or important members of the court

🐉 He also liked how you refused to harm innocent people. Normally, an assassin wouldn't care who they had to kill as long as they got their pay at the end of the day. But you? You made an important deal with the Queen herself, saying you would never lay your hands upon an innocent person, no matter what

🐉 Malleus also likes how you can defend yourself and how you use this to bond with the others. He holds Lilia, Silver, and Sebek close for a reason. They may not be blood, but they are a part of his family, and seeing you bond with them so well feels amazing

🐉 Whenever he does sleep, he dreams of you messing around with your future children, who are just like you; sweet yet dangerous. And just seeing that black ring on your finger would send his tail into a wagging state as he cuddled up to your back

🐉 And don't get me started on whenever you come out and run into a small child looking for their parent

🐉 That happened when you were taking a small walk with the Prince around the nearby woods, and when the child bumped into your leg, they apologized and told you their story. Seeing you comfort the tiny human and help direct them to their mother warmed his heart

🐉 You were the perfect person for him... there was no denying that

#Twisted Wonderland #Twst #Savanaclaw #Scarabia #Ignihyde #Diasomnia #Night Raven College #NRC #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Twst x Reader #Savanaclaw x Reader #Scarabia x Reader #Ignihyde x Reader #Diasomnia x Reader #Night Raven College x Reader #NRC x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Jamil Viper #Jamil Viper x Reader #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia x Reader

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Ex Appeal

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating

WC: 3500+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.

Masterlist

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.

You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.

You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”

Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.

Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.

You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I just did.”

Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”

You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”

Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.

Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”

Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”

Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”

You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”

Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.

“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”

Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.

You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”

Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”

You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”

Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.

Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”

You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”

Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”

You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.

Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”

You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.

There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”

Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.

He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”

The girl nods happily.

Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”

When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.

“What?” he asks darkly.

Your smile widens. “That was cute.”

Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.

“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.

Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”

He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.

“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.

Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”

“You got a pair of boxers?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.

“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”

Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.

“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.

Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.

“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”

“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”

“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”

Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.

You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”

“Well, you aren’t treating me.”

You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”

“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”

You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”

You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.

“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.

The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.

You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”

The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.

Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.

Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –

“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.

You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.

Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”

You snort. “Fair.”

Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.

Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.

“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.

“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.

Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”

You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”

“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.”

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”

Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.

You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”

Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”

You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”

You lower your gaze without responding.

“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.

“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”

“There’s a surprise.”

You eye him dangerously.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”

You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”

You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”

“Ex,” you remind him.

“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”

He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.

Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you’d pick up?”

Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.

Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.

This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.

In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.

He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.

Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.

You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”

Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”

You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.

“Not hungry,” he manages to say.

Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.

“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.

Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.

Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.

Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”

Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”

“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.

You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.

Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?

You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.

Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.

But what he can’t do is kiss you.

Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.

You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.

Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.

You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”

If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”

Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”

He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.

“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”

Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.

You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”

Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”

You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”

Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”

You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”

Jake shakes his head.

“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”

You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”

Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.

You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@thefandomimagines

@lunamoonbby

@xoxabs88xox

@Elenavampire21

@desert-fern

@averyhotchner

@Topguncultleader

@teacupsandtopgun

@lilyevanswhore

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@avengers-fixation

@malindacath

@maddievevo

@widemiffyhappy

@dempy

@djs8891

@pono-pura-vida

@phoenix1388

@teaminator

@rascallyrascals

@kmc1989

@drakelover78

@hangmanscoming

@topgun-imagines

@thedroneranger

@joaquinwhorres

@abaker74

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@lynnevanss

@birdy-bat-writes

@alexxavicry

@scenesofobx

@hallecarey1

@rrocky0ah

@ekeel2016

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@maeleeme

@mamachasesmayhem

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