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#still irritated though because I don't think it's reasonable to do that as a way of assessing a student on the first day
starfxkr · 2 days
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western nights (pt. 1)
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pairing: older!trailer park!jj x reader
summary: jj maybank knows he's too old to be messing around with a young girl like you, but he does it anyways
warnings: age gap, smut (fingering), that's p much it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
jj was known for bein a sleaze around the trailer park. a two time felon who's doing his best to lay low by taking odd jobs around the complex so the feds don't come knocking at his door. you could catch him doing anything from mowing lawns to helping out the grandmas who's sons long stopped coming to check on them. girls came and went out of his trailer at all times of the day--clothes askew and hair messy.
but once he set his eyes on you, everyone else went out the window. he'd known of you of course, having grown up in the complex you're whole life but you were nothing more than one of many little shits running around in a little conglomerate of cheese puff fingers and sugar highs. he paid you no mind, maybe you were one of the kids he's bought crappy water pistols for, maybe not. one summer though, one summer he's on your lawn fixing your car because your mom asked, and there you were-- sitting pretty on your lawn chair reading some trashy book in what he thinks is the smallest dress he's ever seen.
the two of you lock eyes and from then on he's always finding a reason to sniff around you.
each time you pass by jj's place he lets out a whistle, sayin "wish the girls looked as good as you when i was that age." and you just roll your eyes and keep walking. he always finding something to fix around your house and your mom becomes more and more enamored with him not noticing he only has eyes for you.
it all comes to a head during a birthday party--your mom's to be exact. the whole little block is drinking, kids running around, barbecue in the air but you're sitting across from him in his too hot trailer trying to wrangle a beer out of him.
"you even old enough to drink yet? you still got one baby fat on ya." he pinches your cheek and you smack him away with a scoff, leaning over with your hands on either sides of his hips on the couch
"does it matter? you're gonna give it to me anyways." the little pout on you face makes his dick twitch in his jeans, and he makes no effort to hide his growing erection.
"nuh uh little girl, gonna need to see some i.d." you squeak when he pats your ass to 'search' for your wallet, fingers dancing at the hem of your denim skirt and sliding up you shirt to cup your breast, "feels like you're old enough to me."
your eyes flutter shut when he swipes a calloused thumb across your nipple, a tiny hmph of pleasure works it's way past your lips when he pinches the soft flesh.
the beer is quickly forgotten when he lifts your shirt off, wasting no time in getting his mouth on you--licking the sweat from the valley of your breasts and sucking on your neck as you move to sit on his lap.
"should we even be doin this? y'know my mama's realll sweet on you." you pull away from him but make no move to leave.
jj just scoffs and waves it away, running a hand through his blonde hair in irritation, "lots of women are, nothin new, been this way as long as i can remember but it never mattered to me much."
you can tell he wants this conversation to be over, his eyes raking over your body and his fingers tugging at the button to your skirt even as you cross your arms in front of you, "if she finds out we're fucked."
he shrugs, "then don't let her find out."
that's all you need to continue, letting him capture your lips with his, his rough hands travel over your soft skin, stoking the fire building steadily inside of you. despite your veneer of coolness, he can feel your pulse throbbing in your neck under his palm.
"you scared of me or somethin?" his voice is raspy when he whispers against your jaw.
you whimper in reply, "n-no?" even you notice you don't sound too sure--maybe there's a little fear despite your flirting. you wanted to be good for him, you wanted him to like you.
he looks like he doesnt believe you, but he lets it go.
"then get over here." jj yanks you back towards him until your face was tucked into his neck. he doesn't even bother taking your skirt off, just hikes it up and tugs your panties down with a smack on your ass until they're sitting right below the swell of the soft flesh.
the moan that leaves your lips when his fingers graze your clit is almost pornographic, you hadn't even realized how wet you were until you heard the slick sound of his fingers plunging into you with ease. he was obviously skillful, he found that sweet spot inside you with no problem, rubbing it in time with the thumb on your clit while you squeaked and squirmed against him, completely overwhelmed by pleasure.
you were slick and dripping down his palm, doing your best to squirm away from the assault on your pussy but he wouldn't let you, chasing after your thrashing hips and letting out a soft grunt when you sink your teeth into his neck. the way he used his fingers should be a crime--scissoring them open and slowly dragging the pads down your front wall just to hear you mewl like a kitten at the feeling. the thumb on your clit still rubbing in quick, confident circles and he could tell by the way it swelled and throbbed that you were close.
"bet those little boys never made you feel like this huh?" he laughs at you whining response, the answer is extremely apparent by the sound of your growing wetness--your high pitched keen drowned out by the sloshing of your pussy, "there you go sugar, just let it all out."
you choke out a moan and drench him, pussy locking tight around his knuckles as you pulsed, squirting your release all over his lap. there was no way he had you feeling like that just from fingering but here you were, pulse rushing in your ears as he got your clothes back right, sitting you on the couch with a kiss on the forehead as he left to go change seeing as though you soaked his jeans.
when he comes back he lets out a chuckle at the sight of you still sitting there dazed and he finally gives you that beer, "get yourself together aight?" i'll see you back out there.
it takes you almost 20 minutes to finish the beer, still trembling and pussy aching with the need to be filled. you finally step outside, eyes hazy and brain turned to mush when you notice you don't have your panties on.
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manicpixiefelix · 2 days
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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 22.
Summary: After mostly resolving your issues regarding Oliver and Venetia, it's much easier to enjoy the time leading up to the dinner with the Henrys. Still, Oliver seems more than a little nervous to be around you and Felix, much to Felix's ongoing chagrin. He wonders how long it will take for Oliver to take the hint.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
A/N: 3044 words. oh yeah, its all coming together. :) i know the last few updates have been kind of spaced out, so i'd love to get some feedback from you lovely folks about how you think it's coming along now that we're in the back half.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
One day - probably one day soon - you'd have to tell Felix the truth about Oliver and Venetia. By that time, you reasoned, you'd have come up with a way to say it that would make him see why you hadn't called Oliver out for lying, and why you'd kept it from him. His gut reaction, like your own, was to immediately jump to the worst possible, malevolent conclusion. Based on past events, it was a sound conclusion to jump to. But Oliver's not Eddie. It was a moment of weakness, and Oliver really does love Felix. Somehow you'd find a way to make this painless, perhaps even a way to show how much Oliver cared, because that's what you'd seen, that's the why behind your own deception.
Except Felix wasn't even ready to admit out loud to himself, let alone you, or god forbid Oliver, that he genuinely felt that way about him. Even if he definitely, clearly did. But again, past heartbreak makes some of his trepidation far more excusable.
At least you have a distraction for the afternoon - not Oliver, no, he would never be so bold in direct sunlight as to do anything more than make out with you on the pool lounge. No, this distraction wasn't a particularly good one.
The NDA from your parents, sitting in your study.
Part of you knows you should probably have a lawyer look over this, but there was something about the idea of involving yet another person in your parents ongoing attempts to abandoned you that left a sour taste in your mouth. So that left you to look over it all on your own. The sticky-hot afternoon in the study wears thin on your nerves, but irritation was all that ever came of it, not upset or disappointment. Reconciling with Oliver probably had quite a bit to do with it.
Dinner is a welcome reprieve. When Oliver smiles at you across the table, there's a weight that's lifted from your shoulders are you smile back. Felix too is in notably high spirits, though he's decidedly not talking to Venetia; his parents don't seem to mind, however, as long as he's happier than when he'd started the day.
"Is there anything planned for after dinner?" Oliver asked, eyes wide and earnest as he looks around the table, all present sharing an equally confused look as if one of them may have planned something all the others had forgotten.
"Not as far as I'm aware," Sir James offers after a moment.
"Tomorrow will be quite the busy night," Elspeth elaborates with ease, "I'm sure we'd all like to conserve our energy."
"Last chance to cancel dinner with the Henrys," Felix says, already knowing it's not a real option, even after Elspeth chides him for the suggestion, that they'd already had all the food brought and extra help hired.
"Has the seating chart been organised yet?" You asked hopefully, to which Elspeth smiled when her gaze landed upon you, assuring you she'd finalised it that afternoon, turning only to remind Duncan to have it delivered to your study that evening.
"You'll be seated next to Henry of Suffolk, dear," she also tells you, and immediately you're filing that information away in the back of your mind. Henry of Suffolk, partner at Richmond & Suffolk Legal; his late wife was named Clarice, he had a daughter and son a few years younger than you... their names escaped you at that moment.
Beside you, Felix is shamelessly admiring you.
"What?" You ducked your head to try and hide your embarrassed grin.
"Just watching your mind work," he teased with a laugh which had you rolling your eyes with fond exasperation.
"So you can see the cogs too then?" Venetia giggles across the table, though Farleigh chimes in before Felix has the chance to give his sister a look.
"Surprised there's not steam coming out of their ears."
"I'm not a robot," you insisted, flustered by the attention and their combined teasing.
"Just your beautiful brain then," Oliver adds fondly, and out of sheer surprise you look up to meet his endeared gaze as he looks back at you. When had he been let in on that particular joke, you wondered? Something in the back of your mind is sure that it was Venetia, after all, she was the one who most often referred to your 'robot brain' as such, but you don't have it in you to be upset. You never do at these jokes, even though you may occasionally protest about them, they're always intended as a compliment.
And there's no way you could be mad with Oliver looking at you like that.
Dinner continues on with very little fuss after that, and you return to your study feeling much lighter than you had before. Felix joins you, complaining about how you'd spent all afternoon in here, and he couldn't bare to think of you spend all evening alone in here too. Of course he knows that Oliver will more than likely join you when it gets late enough, but he's brought a book, and has quietly claimed the sofa beneath the window for himself. These nights have never been uncommon, but this Summer has seemed especially busy at Saltburn, so you more than welcome his quiet company as the day's heat slowly burns away.
It's not long before there's someone approaching your door.
"It's Duncan," you say, mostly for Felix's benefit, before the butler himself knocks and you invite him in.
"The seating arrangements for tomorrow night's event, Captain," Duncan says graciously, giving you the faintest smile as he hands the document over and turns swiftly on his heel, practically evaporating into the darkness of the house silently.
"Still have no idea how you do that," Felix sounds rather impressed from where he's draped himself over the sofa.
"Do what?" You asked distractedly, examining the seating chart in the golden glow of the lamp.
"How you know exactly who's coming and going without even seeing them."
"Duncan was just being courteous for me," you mutter off-handily, "if I'd heard nothing before he'd knocked, I'd still know it was him."
"You know that's even more impressive, right?" Felix laughs, and finally you turn to him, only to see him watching you like he can't quite believe what you're saying. Sometimes you find yourself surprised by the Cattons, and how little they seem to understand or appreciate about the Estate on which they live.
"No, what's impressive is that I can tell what kind of mood your in half the time just by the sound of your footsteps," you tells him with a grin.
"Now you're lying," Felix snorts, shaking his head. But you continue.
"No, seriously Fi, it's not always entirely accurate, but it's pretty close; I'm not quite there with the rest of your family, but I think I know you well enough."
"That's like, stalker levels of dedication," but his smile is bright in the light of the moon, and his tone turns teasing, "do you have a thing for me or something?"
"I wouldn't go that far," you huffed a laugh, playing along with the bit.
"Shame," he sighed dramatically, "I was really hoping you did, 'cos I kind of have a thing for you."
"I wouldn't if I were you," finally standing, you sauntered over to him, smirking as he beamed up at you, thoroughly pleased by this silly little bit, "that sounds like a scandal waiting to happen."
"Call the tabloids then," Felix laughed softly as he welcomed you into his arms.
"Any stalker-like tendencies of yours I should be worried about?" You asked, settling against him, leaning into him.
"Yeah, I've got a bunch of your things in my room," Felix murmurs right before you kiss him, grinning as you do so. Things devolve from there to the two of you making out in the moonlight, giggling together, teasing nonsense passed back and forth as the moon rose higher in the sky.
"Ollie's at the door," you see fit to finally tell Felix, who looks down at you with wide, surprised eyes. Sheepishly you admit, "he's been there for like five minutes." It's getting terribly late, but you really don't want to go bed right now, or go anywhere that isn't here, in this moment. Felix snorts a laugh, face scrunching up with something close to embarrassment; he knows letting Oliver get away with this kind of thing is part of the game you're all playing, but it still catches him off guard with just how aware you were of the whole situation.
"Ollie," Felix called out, and you both heard a him start behind the study door, "Christ, mate, don't linger," he insists, righting both him and yourself to something more respectable on the sofa, but still insisting on holding you close, "come in already." You're practically in his lap.
Like a deer in the headlights, looking absolutely mortified at being caught out, Oliver pushes the door open and faintly apologises, telling you both he didn't want to interrupt.
"Interrupt what?" Felix says far too easily, smile wide and a bit coy, "nothing to interrupt," though you can hear it for what it is; nothing you, Oliver, could ever interrupt if you simply asked to join. How long would it take Oliver to realise this, you wondered; Felix is getting less subtle by the day.
"I was going to ask -" Oliver pauses, focus stolen by the way Felix presses a kiss to your shoulder, before his gaze returns to your face, your expectant smile. Felix knows exactly what he's doing, "um, was going to ask about the seats for the dinner tomorrow?" Oliver manages, "I don't... know the Henrys?"
As you stand, Felix lets out a loud, disappointed sigh, but lets you go, returning to his book. Every movement, every sound Felix makes captivates Oliver in this moment, and both you and Felix are more than aware of this. Still, you swan over to your desk, looking over the seating chart before you usher Oliver over.
"They've got you next to Ven and Lady Daphne," you show him, pointing out his place along the table, "she's Henry's wife," you add wryly, and hear Felix bark a laugh behind you. Oliver, for a moment, seems confused, gaze flicking between you both.
"Aren't all the -?"
"That's the joke, Ollie," you tell him, but he still seems too nervous to properly see the humour in it, just making a faint noise of understanding in the back of his throat. "Did you want to hang out for a bit?" You offered, "this contract's doing my head in," you flicked at the thick contract on your desk dismissively, "so I'm probably going to get stuck into something lighter, but you know we always love your company."
"Thanks, but, uh," Oliver hesitated, looking to Felix again, "I think I'm gonna turn in for the night."
"Okay," you say sunnily, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the lips, which seems to startle him, "hope you sleep well, Ollie."
"Yeah," Oliver still seems to be reeling from the brief show of affection, "you too."
"Good night, mate," Felix offers with a cheery wave.
"You going to kiss me good night too?" Oliver sounds almost dazed, and suddenly looks mortified once more, like he can't quite believe he'd said that. Felix, unphased, stands and makes his way over to you both.
"Sure," he seems to take the suggestion in stride, kissing the top of Oliver's head before he bends to quickly kiss him on the lips. For a moment after Felix has pulled back, Oliver's look at him like he's staring at the sun, and Felix is wearing a sharp, knowing smile, "'night, Ollie," he says, quieter this time.
"G'night, Felix," Oliver murmurs, making his way to the door as Felix nonchalantly reaches to take the seating chart from your hand to look it over for himself. You, however, watch Oliver go, feeling both helpless and amused all at once.
"You think if I fuck him he'll take the hint?" Felix asks quietly once the door was shut, and you'd both heard Oliver's door squeak closed for the night.
"Do you think if you fuck him you'll take the hint," you asked disbelievingly, "that man is so into you, Fi," you hissed, almost furiously wide-eyed as you looked up at him. As always, Felix responds dismissively.
"Told you I'm not saying anything until he does," Felix puts the document down, choosing instead to drape his arms over your shoulders, "we can fuck around all Summer for all I care, but you know I'm not going to hold my breath for things to get more serious unless he tells me."
"He just asked you to kiss him, Felix!"
"I wasn't in love with you when we first kissed."
"Bad example; yes you were."
"Okay, bad example, yes I was," Felix admits with a faint flush, "but for the record, I didn't think I was at the time; we were twelve," he regains his composure quickly, "but it's not like you're in love with Farleigh or my sister; yeah, I know you love them, but you're not in love with them."
"That's different, Fi, we've been fucking around since forever," you sighed, resting your head against him for a moment.
"It's not different," Felix insists, "I just-" but he paused, and when you chance a look up at him, his face is scrunched up, like he's on the verge of admitting something he really doesn't want to, "I don't want to be getting my hopes up if it's just fucking around with Ollie, you know?" It comes out far more frustrated than you'd anticipated, and though you pat his back comfortingly, you can't help but add -
"He drank your bathwater."
"He fucking watched me get myself off and didn't even do anything about it until after it happened! And not even with me!" Felix points out, sounding almost like a petulant child, "I left the fucking door open and everything!" He's pouting now, actually pouting.
"He probably thinks that if he's too forward he'll scare you off, or your parents will kick him out or something," you tried to reason with him, to which Felix groaned.
"But they won't! You saw how much they loved Eddie, fucking hell," he huffed, stepping back, now wearing a scowl. Where had this night turned to something unfortunate? "Mum would throw a fucking parade if I got a boyfriend who wasn't a cheating dickhead."
"You should tell Oliver that," you pointed out frankly, "or at the very least tell him the truth about things with Eddie, so he knows that you do more than just fuck around with pretty boys."
Everything suddenly goes very still.
"What?" There's no frown, no anger anywhere on Felix's face, just pure surprise, "do you think he thinks that?" You watch Felix re-evaluate the entire situation, giving him space to sort out his feelings, "I made it clear I'm into guys too- do you think he thinks -"
"I think," slowly, carefully, you step up to Felix, voice firm but kind, "that despite how much he's seen you fuck around with other people on campus, the only person you are actually in love with is me," Felix is quiet, looking down at you with this crestfallen look like he's disappointed in himself, "and he, like most people I'll remind you, probably assumes that if he wants you to look at him like you look at me, it'll be a competition."
"Of course it's not, that's so stupid," Felix muttered reflexively.
"I've tried to tell Ollie that," you sighed, wrapping an arm around him. Felix presses his face into your hair for a very long moment.
"What if he doesn't, though?" Comes through muffled and forlorn. You're not quite sure what he means, and thankfully Felix continues, not that he moves his face at all, "what if it is just fucking around and we've misread all of this; I can't tell him I actually love him too, I'd look like an absolute freak."
"Tell him about Eddie," you advised softly, "at least he'll get the hint that you're capable of falling in love with someone who isn't me." The reminder of Eddie would always probably ache, you're starting to come to realise. For now, however, you ignore it.
Felix hugs you tightly, and mumbles that you're probably right. Something eases in your chest at that.
Curled up together in bed not ten minutes later, neither your pyjamas or duvet are as comfortable or warm as Felix's arm around you. He's still deep in thought about the night that had just passed; when he muses that at least it was a better talk than the night before, he sounds like he's still making his mind up about that. Settling into sleep, however, you're contented knowing it was true.
The following morning feels comparatively serene, chattering away to the rest of the family about the night's coming festivities. Both you and Felix drop a quick kiss to the top of Oliver's head in passing on your way to collect breakfast - Farleigh's the only one who notices, and he rolls his eyes at you both. Venetia asks you what you'll be wearing to the event and lights up when you tell her it's the jumpsuit she'd bought you from Yves Saint Laurent for your last birthday, while Elspeth coos that you'll look just darling in it.
After yesterday morning's tenseness, getting to work in your garden, planting the flowers that had arrived for you, music playing cheerily through your little speaker, it feels like a dream. The sun is warm against your back, and for some weird reason you think you see Oliver skulking around in one of the gardens by the wall of the house. Lurking again. Probably habit more than anything else, you figured. Considering the games you've been playing with him, you don't see the need to discourage that kind of behaviour. He's by the window of one of the little libraries; you wonder what must be going on in there to have caught his attention.
Oh well, you'll ask later if you remember.
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airas-story · 2 days
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I've been reading so much isekai lately, so how about isekai or reincarnation with Ironstrange?
I don't know if this actually counts as isekai, but it is what the prompt made me think of.
“Star Wars is fiction,” Tony said, irritated beyond all reason. “It’s not real.”
“It’s not that simple,” Stephen said. “It may not have been real before, that’s hard to say, but it is real now. Peter’s wish sent us here.” Tony narrowed his eyes at Peter who looked far too happy about the situation. “It will take me some time to get us out of here,” Stephen continued. “I need to determine how to use the energy here.”
Something about the way Stephen said it had him on edge. “We are getting out of here, right?”
Stephen pursed his lips. “Yes.” He sighed. “Hopefully.”
Reassuring. Still, Tony wasn’t going to borrow trouble. His husband was good at what he did. He’d get them out of here. It’d work out. “Fine. We’re in a galaxy far, far away. What are we supposed to do?”
Stephen shrugged. “Not die until I can get us back?” 
“Wait, what about the people here? Don’t we need to help them?” Peter demanded, drawing Tony’s attention to the cause of their current situation. Peter was so grounded when they got back. If they got back. “If they’re real...”
Nope. Nope. “Are you suggesting we save a bunch of fictional—”
“They’re real now,” Peter said. “We have to do something!”
Tony looked at Stephen. “Are they going to be real once we’re no longer here?”
Stephen sighed. “I… don’t know,” he admitted. “This is unusual. It’s Schrödinger’s Universe. Is it real because we’re here? Or are we here because it’s real?”
Well that was helpful. Not.
Peter crossed his arms obstinately. 
Tony groaned. “Fine. Fine. Let’s go… I don’t know, save the universe. Again.”
Though while he was here… it’d be a shame to not figure out how to make a lightsaber.
Rhodey would be so jealous.
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allthoseotherworlds · 5 months
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I'm watching that episode of atla where Aang joins the Fire Nation school, and it's very funny as someone who was homeschooled until the middle of 8th grade.
That scene where he has to fumble his way through the pledge they do at the beginning of class is basically what happened when I entered class for the first time -
Everyone stood up for the pledge of allegiance, faced the flag, put their hands over their chests, and started reciting a pledge that I as a Canadian did not really even know existed before that point in time.
I'm pretty sure I scrambled up, put the wrong hand over my chest, and just kind of stood there in confused silence until I sat back down.
I didn't get in trouble or anything for that since, unlike Aang, I was not a fugitive responsible for saving the world, but it was extremely weird and confusing especially on that first day.
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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The Love (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.
Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.
Word Count: 1,323
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.
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Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.
He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.
"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.
She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.
"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.
"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."
"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't know what love is."
Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.
"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."
Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.
"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."
"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."
"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.
"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."
"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"
Alastor looked up from his glass.
"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."
"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.
"Actually, I do."
Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.
"Alastor! You've been in love!?"
Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.
"Yes."
Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.
"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.
"It was a long time ago."
Alastor took a long sip from his glass.
"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.
"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."
He trailed off, taking a breath.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.
Alastor shook his head.
"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."
"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.
Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.
"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."
"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"
"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."
"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."
"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"
"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."
Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.
"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.
"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."
Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.
"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"
"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."
"Then wh-"
"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"
"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.
"I'm sorry."
Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"
"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.
Charlie turned to him.
"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."
"Right you are, my dear."
"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"
Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.
"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."
"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."
"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."
"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.
"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"
"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."
The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.
"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.
"Y/n."
It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.
"Her name was Y/n."
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chuluoyi · 6 months
Text
✎ attraction
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- gojo satoru x reader
to think it started with your crush on his best friend...
genre: high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you
note: thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Back in 2006—
There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?
"I want Geto."
"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"
You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”
Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.
Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.
“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”
“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”
Gojo let out a strained laugh.
To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?
You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.
He knew you were doomed to fail.
"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"
He knows. Really.
"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"
"And those are?"
But...
"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."
He was still irked, regardless.
"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"
Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.
"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"
With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.
You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!
But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.
Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.
He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"
But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the two-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.
You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.
"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"
Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.
He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.
Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.
It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.
...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.
"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.
"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"
"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"
Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that spring of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.
And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.
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Epilogue
"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"
"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"
"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"
"No, Satoru—"
"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"
"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"
"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"
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enkvyu · 9 months
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7:02pm — gojo satoru ; part two to this imagine
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"gojo, your hair is in my mouth."
"you're lucky i washed it a few days ago."
you peer up at him over your phone. "a few days? how many? gojo, tell me."
gojo hums to himself and you hate that it might be serious consideration that he's under. "like maybe seven?"
you gag, flailing at your mouth and spitting out the few strands. you faintly hear gojo complain but it's overridden as you deal with your dilemma.
the two of you were curled inside the stomach of one of getou's curses as it flew across the ocean to arrive back at jujutsu high. the cramped space and gooey flesh makes you shiver, effectively increasing your poor mood, but perhaps the biggest detriment was the person you were stuck with.
sure, public transport was a viable option but yaga had specifically emphasised on the "top-secret" and "classified" written in big bold red letters on the mission file. this meant no one was to know, not ordinary people, not curses and not even other sorcerers.
granted, the school had access to one private jet which they were willing to offer, but that jet only had space for one.
the three of you had sat down and played a game of scissors paper rock to determine who takes it, and while you were lucky to win it for the trip forward, getou ends up victorious for the way back.
and now, you were stuck in close proximity with gojo inside the gut of a flying dragon.
"why are you in such a bad mood anyway?" gojo has the audacity to ask, as if he wasn't the sole reason why you were uncomfortable. you keep your mouth shut though, nothing good will come out of admitting your undying, and unfortunately unrequited, love for him.
"i'm in a perfectly fine mood."
"why do you look like that then, all constipated and everything? did you not go to the bathroom before we left?"
you curl your fingers into a fist and punch him in the chest. it hits his uniform, smearing some of the curses' stomach juice. "of course i did! i'm not a newbie sorcerer."
"ouch!"
"that didn't hurt you."
"how are you going to tell me how i feel?" gojo jabs back. "because it did hurt, it hurt my feelings."
"oh boohoo."
"so you are mad."
you bite your lip and turn away, finding the abdominal wall of the beast easier on the eyes than your own friend. "i'm not."
"you're sulking."
"i'm not." you hiss before taking in a deep breath. "look gojo, can we just stay quiet until we get there?"
gojo keeps staring at you through his glasses and his face fails to give his thoughts away. the suspense is killing you, but before you can relent and ask what he has to say, he clears his throat.
"i have something to tell you."
you sigh, rubbing at your head. "what is it?"
"wait, don't turn around and keeping looking at the wall. hey, what did i just say?"
"gojo, the view isn't really the best to sightsee. why can't i look at you?"
"because if you do, i don't think i can tell you after all."
you close your mouth. "is it that serious?"
"yeah." he clears his throat again, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "look, i know you've been weird around me the past few days and i don’t think it’s because i stretched out your uniform when i wore it last weekend. i don't know why you’re being mean to me, and shoko and getou won't tell me either."
you resist the urge to look at him. "you're having this kind of talk with me now? here? seriously?"
"you won't even stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes! getou may call this curse his bad-luck curse but for me right now it's the only way to get you to listen to me." he stays quiet for a few seconds. "this is really serious, okay, so don't make any comments. i know you're practically brimming with them."
it was true you had a lot to say, but gojo's serious attitude was putting you off. still, having him call you out made you more aggravated and you let one slip. "well, this is really bad-luck for me."
gojo clicks his tongue and you can see the irritation on his face before his words are even coloured with it. "i'm not telling you this so you can feel the same way but—"
the curse suddenly tilts to the side, throwing you into gojo as the four walls of its stomach becomes a wheel, rotating you around. you yelp as your forehead hits him hard in the chest, tears springing to your eyes at the pain.
“what’s going on?”
the two of you spin round and round, and you can't distinguish your screams from gojo's as gravity plays you like a toy, throwing you around.
the movement makes you sick. "gojo, do something! blast it!"
"getou'll get mad if i kill another one of his curses!"
"are you kidding, we're going to die!"
gojo swears, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his chest. with his other arm, he holds out his hand and presses it on the flesh.
you tuck your chin in, squeezing your eyes shut when you realise he hadn't started chanting his technique. "what are you doing?" you look up at him and find him staring at the exit of the stomach through all the goo and chaos.
with a trembling finger, he points to it. you stare into the abyss, squinting your eyes to make out its indistinct shapes. what was that pulsing thing, attached to the side? and was it just you, but was it getting bigger?
with a start, you realise that the curse was about to throw up. and coincidentally, so were you.
"it's going to throw us up!" you share your realisation with gojo but the look on his face tells you he already arrived at the same thought.
he opens his mouth to say something, or scream you're not too sure as the walls of the stomach contracts. distantly, you feel gojo slide his other arm around you and his infinity takes over, shielding the two of you as you're forcefully ejected from the curse's mouth.
a scream escapes your throat as you escape the curse's, wind rushing through your ears. gojo swears again, bringing his arm up to protect your head.
you only know you're safe when you feel air again, the real kind, not the gas built up in the curse's stomach. a thud tells you gojo has landed on solid ground again and you've never felt more grateful to be alive, your entire body relaxing as your soul leaves.
gojo sighs with you, his hold slightly loosening.
getou watches as you're spat out, stepping out of the private jet with a big smile on his face. "you guys look rough."
you feel gojo tense his jaw rather than see it. "what was that for?"
getou shrugs, throwing a bag over his shoulder. he starts digging through it. "i told you that curse is some serious bad-luck. at least you both arrived in one piece.” he looks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “literally in one piece, are you guys going to stay like that forever?"
your mind slowly pieces together your position, still curled up in gojo's arms as he is sat on the pavement, before you leapt out. gojo makes no move to stop you, though you think he might have tsked.
"here, this is for you." getou finally pulls out what he was searching for from his bag and throws it at the two of you.
you catch it instinctively, studying the object in your hand. "a can of soda?"
"for surviving."
"that curse of yours is a safety hazard." you mutter, but accept the can. you crack open the lid and tilt your head back, taking a long, cool sip.
gojo stares down at the drink. "i told you i don't like this flavour!" he complains and you roll your eyes at his antics.
"then don't drink it."
"no. give me your one instead."
getou pauses, halfway to opening his own iced coffee. "huh? i got this for me. and you don't even like coffee! you should be glad i even got one for you in the first place."
"let's play a game of rock paper scissors to decide who gets it."
"no. i just told you i got this for me."
gojo stands up, taking a step forward menacingly. "huh? after what you put me through, you think i'm just going to take no for an answer?"
getou's eyes flicker to yours before he takes up gojo's challenge, activating his cursed technique. black liquid opens up the air beside him, a peering red eye on the other side. "can't handle rejection, gojo? because you better get used to it."
you take another sip as you watch the boys, absentmindedly wiping at a stain on your sleeve. you remember the feeling of gojo's arm around your body and you blush despite yourself.
"are you feeling sick?"
you look up to see that gojo had stopped fighting with getou, his entire attention on you.
"huh?"
"you're red in the face. you look like a tomato."
ignoring the last part, you hide your face behind your drink. "i'm fine."
getou looks between the two of you and there's a glint in his eyes that you've seen before, one that you've grown to dread.
he throws back the rest of his coffee, grimacing as it gives him a slight brain freeze, before crushing the can in his hand. gojo mutters a quick, "show off" that he ignores, instead chucking the can into a bin a few metres away.
"what a time." he starts saying, the words static. "that was great. well, now that i've finished my drink, i should head back inside."
“i should head in too. i smell real bad.” you sigh and give gojo a glare when he agrees.
“actually, can the two of you stay here? i think my curse isn’t feeling too well after eating you two. just until i come back, okay?”
you think there might be an ulterior motive but glancing over at the curse, you find that it did look greener than before.
"where are you going, and for how long?" you ask and hope the look in your eyes will make him stay.
"i need to tell yaga we finished the mission. you guys can just stay here, i've got it." then to you, he says, clenching his fist in support, "you got this."
you want to break his arm.
getou hurries away despite your silent plea, leaving you in an awkward silence with the one person you wanted to avoid most. you take multiple quick sips to busy yourself, but you can’t ignore the person standing by your side.
gojo shifts his balance to his other foot and the sound of his shoe against the pavement breaks the silence. "so."
"so."
"it's really bright, huh."
"you're wearing sunglasses."
"and do they completely cover my eyes? no they don't. i can still complain about the sun."
"just push your glasses up then."
"no." gojo huffs. "i look cooler this way."
"who told you that? because i know for a fact it wasn't anyone whose opinion actually matters." you jab back.
"your mum said that, actually."
"are you a child?"
"what, are you too cool for old jokes? they're iconic for a reason."
"and there's a reason why 'your mum jokes' died and should stay that way."
the natural way in which you banter with gojo gives you confidence. maybe it didn't matter that you liked him, or that he didn't like you back. it was enough that he was here with you now, joking around. perhaps you could even live with knowing that your unrequited love had come to an end, perhaps you could even pair them up yourself without a sense of bitter jealousy.
"i know you like getou." gojo says in one breath.
the peace you had come to, shatters.
"what?" you say in an inhale, and it comes out sounding weird.
gojo pouts, crossing his arms. "i'm right, aren't i? you like getou. i heard what you were saying to shoko that one time."
"don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations!"
"you were saying it pretty loudly, what was i meant to do? shut my ears?"
you wave away his whining. "stop, hold on. you think i like getou?"
gojo nods. "i don't think you do, i know. you said you like people like him."
"when did i ever say that? also, i'm not the one who likes getou, you are!"
"what?"
"what, what? you do, don't you? you told me yesterday that you liked getou."
"i never said that!"
"then who were you talking about?"
"who were you thinking about?" gojo shoots back. "because you didn't even hesitate when you explained your type to shoko. you were thinking of someone, weren't you?"
you gulp. "i asked first."
he looks at you long and hard and you stare back at your reflection through his glasses. his mouth opens and there's a mixed sense of dread and anticipation brewing in your stomach.
"tch."
"did you just click your tongue at me?"
gojo faces away. his jaw is tense as he blatantly ignores your question. "you're really annoying."
"huh? speak for yourself!"
"you have a problem with me?"
"i have a problem with your stupid attitude."
when gojo closes the distance between the two of you, you take a step back out of instinct. it doesn't matter though because gojo steps forward again, pushing you up against the curse getou had left behind. he slams a hand into the flesh of the curse and it makes a startled sound. the both of you ignore it. "it's you, idiot, i like—"
the force behind his slam is frightening, but the thought is torn from you when the sound of regurgitation grabs your attention. with a start, you turn around at the curse and find your phone on the ground at the entrance of the curse's mouth, covered in goo.
"my phone!" you exclaim, bending down to pick it up.
gojo backs up and groans loudly, but you don't care, wincing instead when the item is sticky.
"i didn't even know i lost this! thanks gojo, i think." your voice trails off wearily, holding up the phone and watching as viscous liquid slowly drips off it.
gojo rubs his face with his palm and you wonder why he looks so distressed. "that curse is seriously bad luck." meeting your eye, he points a finger at you. "listen to what i have to say!"
you raise your eyebrow at him. "damn okay, gojo's arrived." you mutter, wiping down the phone and pocketing it.
the clouds overhead parts, sunlight shining down in rays. the trees whistle in the summer breeze and light filters through the gaps in the leaves and branches. it hits gojo perfectly, adorning him in a golden light and you've never seen him so beautiful. guilt fills you at the thought and you hold your soda tighter.
he breathes in one more time. "i don't care that you like getou." he says. "because it doesn't matter to me. it just means i have to work harder to change your mind and get you to notice me instead."
"it's kind of hard to not notice you." you say. "i mean, look at what you're wearing."
gojo hisses. "don't ruin the mood, you're throwing me off. like i was saying, it's not your fault you like getou but i had to tell you this anyway, because it's been making my heart feel all prickly and stuff. so shut up and just stand there looking pretty, or whatever." his last few words trail off uncertainly, as if he never intended to say them at all.
"what are you even saying?" your heart picks up. was he about to confess?
"i'm saying that i think i like—"
"there you guys are!"
your head whips around at the voice, scanning the familiar landscape before settling on a single person. shoko stands metres away, waving a hand to grab your attention. "over here!"
"shoko!" a grin splits across your face. "i haven't seen you all day!"
"am i interrupting something?" she yells to get her voice across the distance.
you don't even look over at gojo as you shake your head. you had a feeling he was just going to tell you something you already knew, that he liked getou, anyway. “no! hold on, i'm coming over."
before you can run up to her, gojo grabs your arm, a deep frown etched on his face. "wait, you still haven't—!"
without another thought, you hand him your half-finished can of soda and wriggle out of his hold. "you can have the rest of that. i'll hear you out later, okay?"
"but the mood was so right!"
"look after the curse until getou’s back, later!"
gojo stands there in front of the bad-luck curse, one arm limp by his side and the other holding a can of blue soda. he watches as you fling yourself into shoko's arm, already listing all the things you've been saving up to tell her.
there's that prickly feeling again, gojo realises, noting the way the sun lightens the shade of your hair, the way your eyes curve up as you smile, and the way you hold onto shoko's hand, wishing that he had enough courage to hold yours.
defeated, battered and drained, gojo looks down at the can in his hand, and notes the slight lipstick stain on the rim.
with a red on his cheeks that didn't come from the sun, he presses the aluminium to his lips and takes a sip. it tastes sweet.
gojo decides that he'll just have to settle for this.
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i hope this was okay considering i had no intentions of writing a part two. sorry for all the descriptions of stomachs and throw up, i was studying the digestive system 👎 if this isn’t what u guys expected feel free to leave a request !!
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ozzgin · 3 months
Note
“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”
Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️
-👘
Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader
You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.
Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut
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Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"
You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.
Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.
The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"
Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.
As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?
You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.
Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.
You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."
Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.
For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.
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princessbunnib · 1 year
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Tactical Princess
König |Cod/Mw2|
Summary: One thing leads to another and you find yourself sandwiched inbetween your boyfriend and your new boy toy.
Pairing: König & Simon 'GHOST' Riley X Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Smut MDNI, Dom König & Simon, Sub To Brat To Sub Reader, Heavy Degrading, Minimal Praising, Simon Being Heavily British, Google Translated German Speach From König, Face Slapping, Thigh Slapping, Ass Slapping, Tossing/Pushing Reader Around, Vaginal Sex, Choking, Sadistic König, Multiple CreamPies, Size Difference, Size Kink, Consensual, MM4F, Fingering, Squirting, Oral |M| Receiving, Facial, Come In Mouth, Manhandling, Established Relationship, Vaginal CreamPie, Double Penetration, Penetration Encouragement, Sex In Livingroom, Sex On Couch, Sex In Bedroom, Sex Standing Up, Spooning Sex Position, Cuddling Ending, Poly Ending?.
Author's Note: Chuga Chuga Chuga Chuga Chuga Chuga- CHOO CHOOO!
OMG I snapped on this ngl. PT2?
I now have 300 followers. I love all of you Bunni's so muchhhhh.😭💕
Gifs: @bld-hnd
Part Two:
____
König had company over while you laid in bed upstairs buried in blankets enjoying your day off. The lights were off with only the TV shining through the room.
You heard faint laughing and talking coming from the livingroom making you turn the TV volume up in annoyance. It's been like three hours already. Almost going into four o'clock. And what the hell was so funny that called for them to be so loud. There's no way the guys are still here. Knowing König, his social battery should be drained by now.
You then felt your stomach rumbling, telling your brain that you were hungry. You pulled yourself out of bed and fixed your shorts, looking around the room for your shirt to put it back on since you found laying in bed half naked very comfortable.
Once you found your shirt you tossed it back on but glanced at your chest to see your nipples were hard. It's cold in the house, König doesn't like being hot. He says it makes him irritable. He also can't get himself to sit still for a long time to prevent himself from getting hit quicker. So because of that, you're cold literally all the time.
You rolled your eyes not thinking too much about it and walked downstairs. This will be quick. You can sneak into the kitchen, grab a snack, and be back upstairs watching your favorite show. Easy.
König was on the couch sitting next to someone. He glanced over his shoulder and at you, his eyes lighting up like a puppy seeing their owner after a long day of being home alone.
"Hey! Y/n, can you come here for a second?" He asked with a hidden smirk. You shrugged and walked over to him, standing next to him and glancing at the person he sat with.
There was tension in the room for some reason. You couldn't tell what type though. Your arms were crossed so you could hide the fact that your nipples were hard. König always makes it his buisness to point that out to you, thus embaressing you because he thinks it's funny.
"Ghost? What are you doing here? And are you two out of all people having a conversation? I could have sworn it was more people here." You asked as König held your hand trying to pull you closer to him.
He's so touchy right now. Why is that? Usually he refrains from physical contact when other people are around.
"There was, Alejandro and Soap had to get going..." Ghost simply explained. You could feel his eyes tracing every part of your body. You were so sexy. He smirked behind the mask clearly taking interest in what he saw.
König pulled you by the hips while you were staring at Ghost, focusing on how attractive his accent and voice was. You came back to reality once Konig sat you down in the middle of them. The two men staring down at you like a piece of meat.
They were both so big together. You felt so small compared to them. Fuck, keep it together. Don't ruin this with your lewd thoughts.
You tried to not look at Ghost but couldn't resist the urge. Your eyes would meet with his which made him place his strong hand on your inner thigh.
"Turns out König and I have a mutual interest in something, isn't that right?" He asked glancing at your boyfriend who was grabbing your hand to hold it and bring it up to his face, placing small kisses on it.
"Yeah... do you want to know what it is Y/n?" König responded before looking down at your breasts. You tried covering yourself with your free right arm but Ghost grabbed you before you could. The two men stared at your chest seeing how hard your nipples were.
They then began to kiss both sides of your neck in unison, their hands lifting to slide under your shirt. Konig squeezing your right breast and Ghost squeezing your left.
You were freaking out on the inside but decided to keep your cool and go along with this. "What is it?" You asked glancing at them both.
"König told me that you wanted a threesome... that's why he invited me over today with the others..."
Ghost spoke in a cocky tone in your ear. Making shivers throughout your spine. You bit down on your lip and took your arms from them. This was all too much for you to handle at once. You knew you had to step away. You were too nervous around them. König was acting so different.
You tried to get up, but they pulled you by your wrists and brought you back down to sit inbetween them. "We'll do anything to fuck you Y/n... this is something you've wanted, so why not let it happen?" König questioned while bitting into your neck.
"But König... you're my boyfriend- I don't want you to think less of me or-"
He chuckled at your doubts and held your face. Dragging his thumb on your lip to keep the tension going. "Don't worry... there's nothing you could do to make me not love you... if you want to fuck someone else that's fine... but-" He then put his hand around your throat and squeezed tightly. "Don't think you'll be able to get what you want so easily... you're mine, remember that."
Ghost chuckled and turned your face so you could look at him. "Yeah... but tonight you're going to have to share aren't you? So in that case, she's ours." He stated just to mess with König a little.
You really loved the sound of that. 'Ours.' You would like that, a little too much than you'd like to admit. König felt a little jealous, watching you stare intently at Ghost rather than at him. Ghost's hand kept feeling up your thighs. You enjoyed being touched by him. How dare you.
Your breath hitched once König pulled you onto his lap. Being more possesive over you to have your attention. You broke eye contact with Ghost and looked at him.
You could feel König's bulge under you, so what other idea would you have that wasnt to grind your hips back and forth to further turn yourself on. König chuckled and slid his hands under your shorts. To his surprise you werent wearing any underwear.
He felt so good under you. The thought of his cock stretching you out felt like heaven itself. With your eyes glued on him while you grinded on his lap, Ghost took the opportunity to stand behind you and pull your hair, forcing your eyes on him.
"Don't forget about me now... seems like König's getting a bit jealous..." He smirked holding your face with both hands.
You bit down on your lip and stopped moving your hips. The eye contact Ghost had with you was intoxicating. His eyes were dark and sad. You could fall in love with him right then and there. His eyes are so pretty.
König then held you onto his lap and began to move his hips forward. You felt him pressing on your clothed clit, making you break eye contact with Ghost.
"You want to make this a competition? Fine by me... I already know what it takes to make her come. I clearly have the upper hand here." He said while glaring at Ghost.
"Let's see who's name she'll be moaning more loudly then..." He responded before staring down at you.
Ghost moved out of the way allowing König to forcfully pull you off the couch like you were some doll to a toddler. He kept you still as the two of them got closer to you, they both towered over you. Making you like this situation perhaps a bit more than they did.
"Don't just stand there, take your shirt off... we want to see you." König demanded pushing you into Ghost's direction.
He held your hips, groaning into your ear. You then slowly took off your shirt. Tossing it somewhere in the room and attempting to cover yourself out of embaressment.
"Oh look, she wants to pretend like she's embarrassed... how cute." He teasingly spike and pulled your arms down, keeping them at your sides.
"Ghost, what do you think of her? She's cute isn't she?" König questioned. Blaintently ignoring your attempts to get his hands off of you. "Well- of course, she is quite the looker... but I'm not really fully sold on the idea, she seems to have an issue with listening." Ghost shrugged slapping your ass watching you jump in pain, your exposed chest bouncing up.
"Yeah- she can be a bit stubborn... she likes to act as if she doesn't enjoy this but I know she does..." He said before squeezing your breast and pinching your nipples.
"Ah~ K-König..." You whimpered.
"Take her shorts off..." König said. You looked down at Ghost as he crouched down to pull at your spandex shorts. You closed your legs together feeling your body drop in temperature. It's so damn cold in here.
König sat back down with you in his arms, Ghost sat down on the opposite side of you. They both moved their hips forward to manspread, bringing attention to their equally big bulges.
"Go fix the temperature since you want to act like it's so cold... we'll wait." He shrugged letting you go and pushing you along.
He slapped your ass and watched you wince in pain, when you walked by Ghost he to slapped your ass getting the same reaction from you.
They both watched you as you walked over to the thermostat to turn it higher. You turned around still standing there, holding yourself.
You were so nervous. Their eyes didn't leave you not once. You felt like prey to a pack of lions. They both pated their laps. Encouraging you to come back over to them.
"Alright now I'm completely sold... I'm a bit upset that you kept her a secret for so long, she's fucking gorgeous." Ghost said begining to palm himself through his jeans. The thick material made it impossible for him to touch anything, he unbuckled his belt. Catching your attention.
You looked at him and began to walk over to him. König snapped his fingers for you to look at him.
"Nope, not yet. I said I wasn't going to make this easy for you. You're getting too greedy." He said shooing you far from them.
You whimpered and still kept your eyes on what Ghost was hiding in his pants. You heard König pull his erecton out but you already knew how he looked and felt.
Ghost and Konig were definitely around the same size. I mean how could they not? They're both over six feet tall. Although König's was longer by atleast two inches which gave him the advantage of penetrating you deeper.
On the other hand, having to take Ghost in would be a challenge for sure. He's way thicker, and the veins scattered about his shaft were something you looked forward to. He was cut while König wasn't. Both had an equal amount of pubic hair, but Ghost's bush was less groomed.
"Look at her... she's imagining our cocks inside of her isn't she, such a fucking slag she is..." Ghost said, bringing you out of your inner thoughts just by the tone of his voice alone.
You looked at them and felt your face rising in temperature. God why won't one of them tell you what to do already? You were loosing it.
"Come here... don't fucking touch us though, just sit there and wait for further instruction." He demanded curling his fingers in your direction.
You stepped forward only for Ghost to snap his fingers and click his tongue. "On your knees and crawl to us... you won't be needing to walk for a while." He said.
That's more like it. You tried to hide your smile as you got down on your knees. You then kneeled on all fours and crawled over to them like he asked. Once you approached the couch, you sat inbewteen them.
"Spread your legs you fucking whore." König said while pinning your upper body to the couch. You spread your legs watching Ghost bring his attention to your exposed lower half.
"Wow, such a cute little clit you have there... I can just tell how wet she is by looking at her..." He said before slapping your clit and rubbing it.
You bucked your hips with a moan. You lifted your hands to touch him but König grabbed your wrists before you could even reach Ghost.
"Ich bin es langsam leid, dich dazu zu bringen, die Regeln zu befolgen...“ He aggressively spoke to you in his native tongue while slapping your face to make you whimper.
("I'm getting really tired of making you follow the rules...")
"I'm sorry~ I'm just a needy slut..." You said with a innocent tone.
"Shut the fuck up... you don't get to talk to me or him from this point forward..." He said slapping your face again. You pouted and began to move in place. You stopped once Ghost slapped your thighs.
You looked down at him watching him lift your hips up and rub your clit faster. You moaned clenching your walls around nothing.
Ghost chuckled and swiped his thumb upwards through your lips to apply pressure to your clit after teasing you for so long. You squirmed letting out a moan feeling Ghost's fingers slide inside you, deep until reaching his knuckles. He curled his fingers inside you and watched your body jolt as you melted into his touch.
"She's so wet... just hear that... what a fucking whore..."
Your hips bucked again making Ghost slap your thighs once more. "She doesn't fucking listen... clearly she doesn't deserve to have her cunt played with..." He sighed shaking his head and took his hands away from you.
You whimpered looking at him then at König. He wasn't looking at you. If anything he was ignoring you, they both were.
"The only we can do to whip her back into shape is if we use her... get her so worked up that she's on her knees begging like a fucking slut to fuck our cocks... her whoreish face covered in come." König stated before yanking you off of Ghost and pushing you to the floor.
"Wait... I'll be good... I'm sorry... König please." You whimpered hoping he'd take pitty on you.
The pair rolled their eyes at you and stood up. König grabbed you by your hair and threw you onto the couch again. Ghost grabbing your ankles and tossing you over onto your back.
You spread your legs again slightly proud that it was that easy. You looked at them, König still on your left side and Ghost on your right.
They both collected your juices on their fingers and rubbed your pussy. Ghost rubbing your clit and König rubbing your entrance. You closed your eyes and sighed heavily in pleasure. Trying to figure out which hand to focus on.
Ghost used his middle and ring fingers to rub the bundle of nerves and apply pressure. König slid his index and middle fingers inside you to curl them inside you. You moaned clenching around him and started to play with your breasts.
Your eyes were still closed until you heard deep groans and moans. Once your eyes opened you could feel your pupils dilating, along with dopamine releasing in your brain.
The two of them were stroking themselves while staring at you, their fingers hard at work to give you something to moan about. Your mouth opened in shock. Fuck. This was something you didn't know you needed. You didn't know which one to look at.
König? His cock head turning a bright red while all the blood rushed to his tip. A pretty stream of pre-cum dripping onto the floor while his pretty foreskin covered half of his tip when he'd ride his hand upwards, then fully open when he'd slide his hand back down.
And Ghost? Shit. He thrusted his hips into his hand as he stared into your eyes. You could tell that he was imagining fucking you right before your eyes. He groaned deeply and smirked as you kept eye contact with him. His fingers slowing down so he could slap your clit, then picking up speed again to make you moan louder.
He'd stop moving his hips and begin to make his hand do all the work, rubbing his tip into his warm palm and squeeze himself to apply pressure. Sending a tingling feeling in his balls, releasing his hand before feeling a sharp pain.
You whimpered feeling König's fingers penetrate you deeper to get your attention back onto him. You looked at him and clenched tightly for longer than usual, he smirked at you whole stroking himself faster and thrusting his fingers in at the same pace as his hand to make it seem like he was inside you.
When he'd curl his fingers upwards, he'd start stroking himself upwards. He'd pull his fingers out of you and stop stroking himself. Staring down at his cock to watch it twitch and jump on it's own.
He breathily moaned and took himself in his hand again, sliding in a finger and pushing upwards deeply to find the spot behind your urethra.
You whimpered throwing your head back letting yourself come undone and moan louder. They watched your legs shake and lock in place before you stretched them out again. König nodded to you and hummed 'Mhm' to tell you that he knew how good you were feeling.
You whined and bent your legs at the knees again and pulled on the couch cushion. Your body felt hot all over. Ghost slapped your clit again and rubbed more consistently, collecting your juices on his fingers before doing so.
"Ahhh~ ahhh- ohhhh~ Ggh-K-k-ko-gh..."
You were sexualy and mentally confused. Who's name do you moan? You couldn't think straight. Your body enjoyed the feeling of their hands, your mind enjoyed the sight of two men getting off to the sight of you.
You held your breath for a second stopping all sounds from coming out. Their groans and wet noises that came from your vagina was all that could be heard. Your back arched as you finaly let yourself breath again. You whimpered loudly while your legs started to shake again. Their fingers continuing what they were doing but in a faster pace.
König moaned and slapped your entrance before sliding his middle finger inside you and curling it again. His middle finger was his longest one, you moaned covering your face and let your vaginal muscles relax around him. He hummed once more, encouraging you to release however you wanted to.
"Yes yes yes yeeess~ Kghhoöstnniigg~" You moaned at the top of your lungs allowing yourself to squirt. You didn't have a clear name in mind to moan so you put both of theirs together. They groaned and slapped your clit and entrance at the same time. You whimpered biting onto your knuckle and bucked your hips onto ther hands.
They stoped touching themselves and payed attention to you. König grabbing your face and keeping your eyes on them. Ghost forcing your jaw open to slide his thumb inside to get you to suck it.
"Yeah... make a fucking mess you pathetic little bitch... now our fucking couch needs to be cleaned because of you..."
"You're such a whore... moaning at the top of your lungs like that while getting off to our hands..."
"Hmmpmmm!" You tried speaking but forgot that Ghost's thumb was in your mouth.
Once your legs stopped shaking they took their hands away from you and sat down on opposite sides of the couch. You were breathing heavily trying to gain composure until they groaned loudly, pushing you off of the couch again and grabbing your hair for your face to be in their laps.
"Alright- fuck... you've had your fun. Now get to sucking." König demanded of you while putting his cock in your face. You looked down at it, seeing pre-cum still dripping from it. You held the base of him gently and was about to put him in your mouth until Ghost pulled your hair aswel for you to give him attention first.
____
König and Ghost sat on the couch with you on your knees in front of them. They looked down at you with their hips pushed forward and sitting in a manspreading form. You could see their equally heafty erections just fighting to be seen in your eyes first.
You licked your bottom lip not knowing what your next move should be.
You wanted them to defile you in any way possible. These two large men throwing you to eachother to allow the other man have a go at you. Their equally fat cocks stuffing, fucking and pumping deep inside your tight holes. Stretching you out and practically making you a new one.
You couldn't resist the desire to be their cock sleeve tonight. Their eyes stared down at you, you could see the animalistic gleam in them. Right now they weren't seeing you as anything but a new toy. You wanted to be used and abused. Your holes aching for more of their come.
König then snapped his fingers to get your attention. You looked at him then at Ghost. He snaped his fingers again. Demanding that you'd stare at him and only him.
"She doesn't know which one to look at first... guess she doesn't feel like using that brain of hers... clearly she should be looking at me..." He stated as you crawled towards him. Seating yourself inbetween his legs.
"She's so pretty down there... but I hope she's not forgetting that she has another cock to drain..."
You looked at Ghost while rubbing König through his sweats with your left hand. Your right hand doing the same for him. He let a groan slip out caressing your face, finally acknowledging you but not completely.
"It's cute that she's trying to be a tease but I personally think she should get on with it." Ghost said nonchalantly while ignoring you.
"Yeah right? These cocks aren't going to drain themselves... I kindof feel like my time is wasted, what about you?" König said.
"Affirmative..."
Well. They're right, you don't want to disappoint after all. You swallowed the lump in your throat and finally held their cocks in your hands. You hummed in pleasure looking up at them and started off with König, you were clearly more familiar with him.
You stuck your tongue out and took his tip in your mouth, using your hand on Ghost. The two men groaned in unison while throwing their heads back. You moaned to get yourself to be confident enough to give them your best preformence.
Ghost could tell you were taking your sweet time to not suck him off next. He then grabbed your head and turned you in his direction, slapping his tip on your lips then proceeding to pry them open.
"There's no space to be scared now... you agreed to this so fucking deliver." He demanded while placing both of his hands on the back of your head.
"But you're really thi- mghhhmmm!"
You panicked feeling him force himself into your throat. Your eyes began to water and push tears out onto your cheeks. You looked up at him, trying to push his hands away but couldn't.
"Look at her acting like she can't take it... she likes it rough... the more tears the better..." König explained while grabbing your left hand and wrapping it around his cock, now using it like a fleshlight. Holding his hands around it to keep your hold tight.
"Fuck... how dose she feel?" He moaned.
"Aghh... absolutely perfect... a bit teethy though... but nothing a bit of breaking in can't fix." Ghost responded while moving your head up and down like you were bobbing for apples at a fair.
"Hmm! Mhfggh!"
You needed air but they couldn't hear you. Ghost moved your head faster and groaned holding you down forcing himself to touch your uvula. Shaking your head to make you gag. He enjoyed the sounds of you trying to speak or atleast catch your breath.
"Mhmm... fuck... take that fucking cock... you pathetic little slag."
He pushed his cock into your cheek getting off from the slippery texture on the inside of your mouth. You were able to breath slightly as you looked up at him batting your eyelashes and placing your hands on the floor for support.
"You've had enough- don't enjoy it too much... now suck mine, you fucking bitch." König groaned at the loss of contact and pulled your hair for you to look up at him.
You smiled and stuck your tongue out. Gladly taking half of his long shaft in and lapping your tongue up on the underside of his tip. You let him go with a pop and giggled before putting on an airheaded smile. Then proceeding to make sloppy wet kisses for your right side of his shaft and breathed on it to make it stand taller.
Ghost grunted caressing your face and stoking himself while staring at you. You looked up at both of them with your eyes big. Tapping König's tip on your tongue and sucking it briefly while collecting more saliva.
"Fuck... she sucks cock like it's a sport... don't just play with it now, suck it like it's your job..." Ghost said forcing your head down deeper. You moaned while opening your throat so König's cock could reach deeper inside.
"Haaafgghmmmuaahh~♡"
You lifted your head up to breath for a second while König stared down at you. You bit your lip and licked the acces saliva that fell. "You guys are so big..." You seductively spoke while taking Ghost's base in your left hand. You brought their tips together on your lips and kissed them both, then pumped your hands together and slid your tongue in the middle of them.
"Christ... she sucks cock like a porn star... take us both in your mouth now..." Ghost demanded forcing your head down slightly.
You tilted your head to the side and sucked them off in a circular motion. Your head moving on it's own as you closed your eyes to focus more. König held your head and thrusted himself into your mouth, tears forming in your eyes as Ghost began to do the same thing.
"Schwanzhungrige Schlampe... du arbeitest für unsere Lasten, nicht wahr?"
("Cock hungry bitch... you're working for our loads aren't you?")
"Mhm~♡ Am I doing good... am I good girl?" You asked with a small whimper as you stoked them off so you could speak.
"Hah~ she wants praise for doing the bare minimum... I dunno if she deserves it..." Ghost slightly moaned while yanking your hair.
"Please... I want to know if I've been good..." You said while pouting your lip and sucking their tips again before showering their cocks in kisses.
They stood up and yanked your arm for you to sit in front of them. They stared down at you with their cocks in hand.
"Shut the fuck up... keep sucking..." Ghost groaned and held your throat tapping his tip on your tongue. König the back of your head while he held your jaw. They both slapped your face with their cocks to encourage you to open your mouth again.
You opened wide while wrapping your hands around them and rested their tips on your slippery tongue, pumping up and down and looking at them.
"Ahhh~ heyoghhh hgo hiignh~♡"
("Ahh~ they're so big~♡")
"Yeah? Of course they are... wow she can barely fit it in her mouth... open wider for us..." König said pulling on your jaw to keep your mouth wide.
Their hands on their hips while they stared down at you. Saying degrading phrases while you whimpered sucking them separately, then sucking their tips together.
Your heavy breath making them twitch and groan together. Ghosts hips began to thrust into your hand while you sucked on König. Your head bobbing back and fourth swallowing the pre-cum that dripped out of him.
Your confidence sky rocketed to an all time high. You've always loved being the center of attention. The fantasy of having more than one man focus on making you feel good drove you crazy.
Ugh, each sound they'd make would all be because of you. Even if they were degrading you, you enjoyed every last minute of it. Because yeah, only whores would enjoy slutting themselves out to more than one man.
You were no longer worried about covering yourself up. The only way you wanted to be covered up is by their balls emptying out onto you like you were a sock they jizzed into.
Ghost then stood behind you and pulled your hair for you to throw your head back. He shoved himself into your mouth again making you take him deep into your throat. Your eyes watered at the amount of force. But you chugged it up and chose to deal with it. Moans muffling on his cock sending vibrations through his body.
"She's taking me in so well... first place goes to Y/n- ughh~ She's a champion at this... fucking whore." He stated while slapping your face gently.
König held onto your throat making you feel tighter for Ghost. His hips thrusting into your hands as you kept them clasped together to hopefully mimic the feeling of him being inside you. He whimpered softly but also joined in slapping your face to still keep himself focused on being dominant towards you.
"That's right... ughh fill that void in your body with cock... that's my perfect slut..."
Mmm~ fuck. You could feel your vagina becoming more wet as you listened to what König said. Being degraded but having 'MY' put in front of any belittling statement turned you on even more.
"She's more than perfect... hngghh~ alright suck him off... she's going to make me come already." Ghost said pulling his hips back and allowing you to give König special attention. You placed your hands on König's thick thighs, closing your eyes to suck your throat around him.
Your tongue swirling in all directions, head turning so he could penetrate your cheek and every crevice his cock could find. You let him go with a pop before licking up his shaft and tracing the sensitive throbbing veins scattered the thick, uncut, and girthy length.
"Hey!- eyes on me..." He demanded snapping his fingers in your face. Your eyes darted open and glanced up at him fulfilling his request.
You could hear Ghost heavily groaning behind you. His hand riding up and down his shaft, thumb pressing on his tip to force pre-cum out of himself. He pulled your hair so you could look at him too. You moaned at the amount of attention feeling your clit tingle making you even more wet on the inside.
Ghost couldn't believe how skilled you were in this department. Just by looking at you he assumed that you didn't know anything about sucking cock. You and König's relationship had been so private and reserved from other people until now. He was shocked when König told him about your little 'crush' on him.
He agreed out of pure lust that he had festering for you that had been within him for a long time. He would have made advances at you but König had already put claim on you first.
"Ahh ahh ahhh~♡ Am I doing a good job? Please tell me I'm doing good..." You asked clenching your thighs together with a submissive whimper. "No, you're doing a bloody horrible job... you poxy slag." Ghost said being sarcastic, his british accent coming out more clear.
You whimpered and turned your head to kiss his tip while staring up at him. Using your hands to jerk König off.
"Awe you love when I call you a slag? You dumb cunt, you don't even know what it means... shut up and take my cock... kissing it isn't going to please anyone..." He said pulling your hair and sliding himself in your mouth once you whimpered in pain. Tears gushing out of your eyes aswel.
____
Both of the men held a chunk of your hair and kept your head back for you to look up at them. Their hands working overtime on their shafts for them to cover your face in come in unison. Your tongue sticking out and smile on your face. "Aghhhff~ Pheathh hoge ogghh hyy haath~♡"
(Ahhh~ please come on my face~♡")
They both slapped your face, König slapping your right cheek and Ghost slapping your left. "Mmmyeahhh~ come on... I want you guys to come on my face... I need it... I'm such a whore, I need come on my face to live~ please don't keep me waiting..." You begged spitting on their tips and taking them in your mouth, swirling your tongue in an infinity sign before flicking your tongue in the middle.
"Halt die Klappe, du schwanzgeiler Lump..." König groaned sliding himself further in your mouth to push Ghost out of the way.
("Shut the fuck up you cock hungry come rag...")
"Hggnnmm I'm sorry König~" You moaned rolling your eyes back and intentionally gagging on him.
König held the top of your head while Ghost held your jaw again. Both of them thrusting into your mouth penetrating your esophagus out of unison to cause friction between them. The two then thrusted once more before pulling out of you sloppily and pumping their hands on their shafts staring down at you.
You didn't speak, you instead just sat there waiting for your desert. Their groans made you want to touch yourself, the tingling feeling turned into pressure inside your clit. You were just aching to be touched.
"Nimm jeden – aghh~ letzten Tropfen, du wunderschöner – C-Cock-Wrangler..."
("Take every- aghh~ last drop you beautiful- c-cock wrangler...")
König moaned pushing himself inside your mouth to come inside. You moaned nodding enjoying the feeling of his hot sticky come coat your tonsils. You looked at Ghost while sucking his tip encouraging his finish until he choked on his words and loudly groaned, face scrunchung up at the nose as he covered your face like an artist would paint a canvas.
"Yeahh yeahh~ mhmm I love the taste of your come... it's so fucking good~♡" You moaned about to swallow his load.
"What a fucking whore... she's inatrual at sucking cock... shit, let's fuck her now..." Ghost stated while wiping his forehead free of sweat.
____
Ghost had you bent in half while fucking you standing up. His arms scooped under your knees with his hands clasped together behind your neck, forcing you to stare down watching him fuck you. You moaned everytime he thrusted, his cock head meeting with your cervix while your clit throbbed aching for contact. You didn't know what to do with your arms and allowed them to just fwail in the air.
König standing in front of you watching you moan and whimper at the size of another man's cock. He then held your waist and aligned himself with the same hole Ghost occupied. You were wet enough for both of them to take you.
You bit down onto your lip to not cry out as your entrance stretched beyond the size you had been used to all this time. Both of them groaned and pulled your body every other way they could so one of them could have more control over you.
You looked up at König who was groaning while rubbing your clit with his thumb. His free hands played with your breasts, pulling and pinching your nipples.
"König... please look at me... I'm sorry..." You whined assuming he was mad at you.
He rolled his eyes and placed his hand around your throat, still not willing or ready to akwnolage you. "Shut the fuck up." He demanded squeezing your throat tightly before letting go.
All you wanted was for him to look at you and also call you his good girl. He wasn't doing either of those things. The lack of praise and admiration made you upset. When having sex he makes it his mission to spoil you with praise, only degrading you when you'd ask. He loved you too much to call you a bitch or anything in bed without you asking.
"Ahhhh~ mmpleeaasee!" You repeated yourself hoping he'd hear you. You needed him to look at you so fucking bad. You felt embarrassed and ashamed for enjoying yourself.
He didn't do anything except continuing to choke you so you'd shut up. This was his punishment for you. He was cripplingly jealous and possesive over you. How dare you want to fuck someone else while with him? He obviously didn't feel like he wasn't enough for you, if that were the case then he wouldn't even be able to look at Ghost without getting angry.
He wouldn't dare let Ghost get close to you either.
It took every bone in his body for him to not give in and entertain you. Although your begging and whimpering did make him want to stare into your eyes while fucking you.
You sighed seeing your pleading was getting you nowhere and looked up at the ceiling attempting to not think about the overwhelming feeling of needing to cry.
The pleasure felt too good for you to hold yourself together. Not only that, you also couldn't deal with him still ignoring you.
König's cock penetrating upwards due to the lack of space inside you, Ghost penetrating downwards continuously making you feel like you have to use the bathroom.
Konig was causing pressure behind your urethra. Did you have to pee or squirt? You couldn't tell. Your face was burning up with heat, stomach twisting and turning with every thrust.
"Awe is she going to cry? That's so fucking cute... what an attention whore." He groaned slapping your face and mocking your feelings.
Your vagina was beginning to overstimulate too quickly. Your walls rejected their cocks on their own but grew wetter when they'd thrust back inside.
Ghost groaned deeply and thrusted harder, you received degrading words in your ear making you moan louder. "You fucking slut... take our fat cocks- aghh~ all you're good for is to be a personal fleshlight for us..."
"Ughh please! I need more!~ I can feel myself getting close!" You said desperately as König pulled out of you and laid down on the couch, motioning for Ghost to bring you over to him.
König groaned stroking himself with you over him. Your juices were like a lubricant ad he did so. Ghost pulled your hair so you could keep yourself up rather then giving out and letting König hold you.
"Fuck... she's so wet..." He grunted before lifting your hips with one hand and teasing your stretched entenece.
"Shit... I'm coming inside her for sure..." Ghost stated while slapping your ass to hear you whimper. You couldn't say anything. You know if you did it would either be a moan or a cry out for attention. Begging wasn't going to get you anywhere so what's the point.
"You do that and I'll fucking kill you." König said glaring at him. Everything that the two of them has done to you was perfectly fine. But you belonged to him, so he was the only one who could give you a creampie.
"Ha- what? You're afraid that I might get her pregnant aren't you..." Ghost responded with a cocky grin on his face.
"Not really scared. More so certain that this wouldn't happen again if you tried anything like that."
"Oh yeah? Don't try and start something you most certainly can't finish König... I'm only doing this because she wants me just as bad as I want her..."
Ghost then turned your head for you to look at him. Your come drunk eyes met with his. What were they talking about? You couldn't hear them, your mind was too fuzzy for you to care.
Next thing you know Ghost was making out with you while swirling his tongue around yours. He sloppily pulled your bottom lip with his teeth and turned your head to the side for a better angle. You moaned into his mouth and lifted your left hand to caress the back of his neck.
Oh god, and he's a good kisser? Fuck. He was making you so wet... his arm wrapped around your waist pulling your body close to him, König's hands held your hips and squeezed them until his knuckles were white. He was pissed. Watching Ghost make out with you to prove a point made him angry. He then aligned himself up with your entrance and forced you down on him. You broke the kiss with Ghost to whine proudly.
Saliva connected from your mouth to Ghost's. König groaned and pulled you down to him, holding you in his arms and burying his face into your neck.
You softly moaned rolling your eyes back and grinding your hips back and forth so your clit could feel his pubic hair brush against it. Ghost slapped your ass and slid inside the same hole again. König made sure you focused on him by kissing your neck and cheeks while glaring at Ghost.
He groaned and bit into your neck to make a hickey. You whimpered burying your face into his neck, feeling yourself about to come but kept quiet because of how badly you couldn't think.
"Du bist mein gutes Mädchen..." He groaned licking the bruised skin on your neck.
("You're my good girl...")
You lifted your head from his chest and looked at him. Pressing your lips together in disbelief that he said that. "I am? You're not mad at me?" You asked as your voice cracked.
He shook his head and showered your face in kisses. Holding your cheek and dragging his thumb on your warm skin. "Ich liebe dich so sehr..." He softly said to you and planted kisses on your lips.
("I love you so much...")
You felt tears building up in your eyes as that was all you needed to hear for you to be able to come. You whimpered leaning upwards to put your hands on his chest but he kept you down to him because he wasn't finished.
"Du gehörst mir... Du gehörst ganz mir... du bist mein braves Mädchen... Ich liebe dich Y/n... Fuck~" He grunted thrusting harder into you and making you scream his name.
("You belong to me... You're all mine... you're my good girl... I love you Y/n... Fuck~")
"I love you too... fuck me harder... I'm gonna come~ please both of you fuck me harder!" You moaned feeling the knot in your stomach twist and turn just threatening to burst.
They pulled out of you again only for a split moment. König turned you around for you to lay on your back while still on top of him so you could face Ghost for a while. He snaked his arm around your waist keeping you close to him though, his other hand hooked under your right leg so he could rub your clit.
Ghost squeezed and played with your breasts while thrusting upwards into you. Their thrusting would be out of sync at first but in order to get you to moan more consistently they stoped glaring at eachother with daggers in their eyes and made it a goal for you to come first.
König moaned your name along with praises while bouncing you up and down. You held onto the back of his neck with your right hand and pulled Ghost down to you for vivid eye contact. No matter what face he made he made sure to not look away from you.
You whimpered and clenched around them, sucking their cocks inside whenever they pull back to rut into you again. Hearing König praise you in his native language while rubbing your clit, and Ghost staring at you was a dangerous combination.
You couldn't hold your composure anymore. Your whole body was sore and tingling with pleasure. You didn't want this night to end, it's been like heaven itself. You didn't want to leave their embrace ever again.
Ghost grunted and took your hand off of him, he held it in his hand and began to shower it with kisses. You watched him as his eyes rolled back once you clenched around them again.
"You're so fucking beautiful princess... you take us in excellently... you're such a good girl for taking us inside that pretty little cunt sweetheart."
Oh my fucking god. What did be want from you? Did they want you to just scream how much you loved them? You felt the need to say those words conjuring up inside you. Don't say it... don't fucking say it... he doesn't actually mean it... it's just sex talk... don't fucking say it...
"Ahhhh Ghost~♡ K-König~♡ I'm gonna- I- I- ughhh..."
"Let it out for us... be a good girl and let it out... come on... I want you to come on our cocks..." König groaned into your ear slapping your clit and rubbing it while applying more pressure.
"Mhmm... it feels so fucking good doesn't it? We're stretching you out so much... your little pussy can't take it... you're such a good fucking girl for us..."
"Yes yes yes it feels so good~ I can't take it... oh my god!" You helplessly whimpered pressing your hand on Ghost's stomach to slow him down.
"You can take it... I know you can... take us deep inside... you're doing so fucking well for us..."
They thrusted slower and deeper to get you to hopefully squirt or better. König turned your head for you to look at him and held your face now sloppily kissing you and biting onto your lip. You moaned into his mouth sucking his lip with yours and whimpered as Ghost rubbed your clit to keep up the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.
König broke the kiss with you and stared into your eyes aswel. You pressed your lips together as tears rushed down your face. They both payed full attention to you and comforted you by kissing you. Ghost held onto the couch and moaned in your ear, followed by saying your name intentionally making his accent thicker.
Say it... just say it... you know you'll mean everything when you do say it. Say those three words... come on Y/n, say it... it's not just sex talk. You mean so much to them.
"Don't cry baby... you're so close to coming... you got this... don't cry... get yourself sorted... you can do it... I'm so proud of you... good fucking girl..."
Shiiittt~ Ghost stop... why does he keep saying that type of stuff. He fucking knows what he's doing.
"Say it... say you're our good girl... you belong to us from now on... say it... right now." König demanded while slapping your clit.
You cried harder and clenched around them uncontrollably. Closing your eyes for a breif moment until Ghost snapped his fingers to keep your eyes on him. He pressed his forehead onto yours and thrusted upwards into your g-spot. König thrusted into your cervix, lifting your legs up and bending them at your shoulders. Ghost groaned deeply and held your ankles to keep your legs in place.
Fuck. Now they're working together- say it... say it... say it... say it... say-
You whimpered and held your breath now so worked up that you forgotten how to let go. Your face was hot as it ever was. Once you opened your mouth and screamed and threw your head back.
Your orgasm was bigger than you expected it to be. Your legs shook aggressively along with your arms. You spoke in tongue saying anything that came to mind. They still thrusted inside you to work themselves further to orgasm. You bit your lip making it bleed because of how hard you bit.
Your mouth opened wide and there it was. You said it.
"KöniiggGhost!Aahhhhhhh I LOVE YOU! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!!"
You cried loudly uncontrollably clenching yourself around them, keeping yourself tight making it harder for them to thrust.
Their faces scrunched up in mutual pleasure as they let out many moans that were all followed by your name. Ghost rubbed your clit feeling his come shoot inside you, your walls pulling on his shaft further squeezing his loud out. Making him whimper and try to stop himself but couldn't.
König had groaned planting his feet into the floor and using his inpressive lower body strength to fuck his come deep up inside you. You whimpered trying to gain your composure but couldn't. They were still thrusting to make their erections come down. Their cocks slipping and sliding together due to the mess they both made inside you.
You cried out this time with pure desperation as you could feel your vagina reject them desiring to return to normal size again. They both sighed in pleasure finding it wouldn't be a good idea to pull out at the same time. Ghost then slipped out of you with a delicate moan. He slapped your clit many times and rubbed you while watching their come drip out of you.
"Ghossstt~ n-no... I'll- hgnnnggghhh~ s-squuuirt~" Your toes curled as you begged him to stop but he refused to listen to you. You then felt König pull out of you due to his cocks unbeatable amount of sensitivity.
Your legs shook again and there you were squirting on the couch making another mess that they'd have to clean up.
"Mhmm... that pretty little cunt is so sensitive... look at our pretty girl... good job..." König encouraged while making small slaps on your ass as a congratulations.
You whimpered to tell them to stop. They laughed in unison as König moved you to the side so he could sit up and gain his composure for once. You couldn't move anymore. You were sore and also too tired to even open your eyes.
You sighed heavily and covered your face. Squeezing your thighs together, feeling your entrance throb. Their creampies dripping out of you and onto the couch.
____
What happened after you Ghost and König were finished went by like a blur.
You couldn't recall anything after that and assumed you passed out. You woke up in bed with your clohes on. You felt clean like you had taken a shower but you don't remember taking one. A bandaid on your neck along with healing gel to cover up- a hickey?
You thoughts had been interrupted by loud snoring coming from both sides of the bed. You couldn't move like you wanted to for some reason. Two muscular arms holding certain parts of your body and deep occasional groans.
You looked to your left and saw König laying next to you, his face buried in your chest and arms around your waist. Okay, that's normal.
So you looked behind you and saw- Ghost? He laid next to you with his face buried into your back, legs intertwined with yours along with something poking your back.
He moved himself closer to you and wrapped his arm around your waist to still feel your comforting body heat even while he's sleep.
"What the fuck?" You said before remembering what happend before you fell asleep.
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likedovesinthewindd · 4 months
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request: I wanted to request a Farleigh Start x fem reader. Where they are both American and he asks that she helps him with an essay. During the process, he starts having feelings for her because of her honesty towards him but she doesn’t realize it until he says it out loud.
★ tags: @darkeyesshine
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You were surprised when Farleigh had initially approached you for help on an essay. You knew him, not personally, but the two of you attended tutorials under the same tutor, and before that, you've seen him around campus plenty of times, usually accompanied by his plethora of friends.
You were, however, not at all surprised when he hadn't shown up the next day as he promised. You checked the time on your wristwatch; thirty something minutes passed since you had arrived at the library. You couldn't say it was uncommon for him, considering he wasn't exactly known for his punctuality or perfect attendance, but you'd be dammed if he was going to waste your time when he was the one who needed your help.
You huffed in annoyance, beginning to pack away your books and call it a day when you noticed Farleigh's tall figure appeared from behind one of the bookshelves, eyes darting around until he saw you sitting by one of the long tables. He took a seat at the chair next to yours rather than the one across from you as he started rummaging through his bag.
"You're late," you said, reopening your books and trying not to show too much irritation at his tardiness and still remain cordial. "So sorry ma'am. Won't happen again, ma'am," he said sarcastically as he dropped his books on the table with a loud thud before sighing. "But in all seriousness, I really am sorry. So, uh, shall we start?"
To his credit, he stayed true to his promise (kinda) and would always be early enough for your sessions, most days looking like death itself due to a previous night of partying or studying. Farleigh was actually very smart; people always seemed to forget that considering strings had to be pulled to get him into Oxford due to his past behavior and poor choices. You still liked him, though, and had grown used to his sarchotic personality and the playful banter that came with it.
He himself had grown quite fond of you, too. He liked that you never spared him his own verbal lashings and never sugar-coated anything; whether it was critique on his writing or telling him he wasn't going to see 30 with the way he needed a smoke break every five minutes.
Today was the last session before he was to submit his work for moderation, and as you read through his work for the last time, you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. You chalked it down to him being really eager to get all of this over with.
"It looks really good," you smiled as you slid the file back to him. You were half expecting him to simply take the file and be on his way with a half-assed thank you thrown your way, but he actually seemed very grateful for your efforts. "I owe you one," was the last thing he said before he was already halfway across the library. Later that night, he would be at your dorm room door with a gift bag in hand.
"A thank you gift," he smiled as you took the bag from him. "It wasn't necessary, but thank you," you said. "It definitely was," he argued, "You saved my ass."
"I also kinda wanted a reason to come and tell you about Anabel's little get-together tomorrow night. The Christmas party?" he added. "I know about it. And I heard its invite only," you said, crossing your arms. "That's why I'm telling you. I'm inviting you," he said very matter-of-factly. "Why do you want me to go, don't you have friends?"
"Are we not also friends?" he said, sighing when your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "C'mon, are you really gonna make me beg?"
"No, I don't mind going with you, I just didn't think you liked me that much," you said truthfully. "Well, I do like you. I really like you," he said with a smile. "Tomorrow night. Seven," he added before he was gone.
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tremendum · 10 months
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i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you
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[not my gif. title from song Of All the Gin Joints in All the World] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)      
word count: 4.6k  requested: Could you write something (literally anything really) like mean Joel x feisty Reader but based on the ancient Fall Out Boys song "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World" pretty please? 🥺🥹 I was just listening and I thought the lyrics were perfect for your writing ❤️But as always no pressure and no problem at all if you don't like the idea or anything else. Lots of love! P.S. smut is very welcome btw hihihi summary: “Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job." warnings: established previous hookups, use of girl/babygirl, established age gap (unspecified but addressed openly), brief mention of oral m!receiving, brief mention of reader and joel’s canon-typical scars. choking, mean!Joel & brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader lol, dirty talk (its joel), degradation, use of the word slut, slight dumbification, spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum eating, nipple play, slapping (tits, ass). think that's it!
notes: okay finally another mean!Joel for the soul!!! this is super unedited also. tysm for the request, obv inspired by the song Of All The Gin Joints in All the World by FOB. :) this was fun and i hope yall love it! dont b afraid to request anything yall wanna read at all and as always pls comment or reblog :) love u xoxo  
[other Joel fics: mr. miller series fever landmines  ]
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★  
Joel Miller isn't sure exactly when all this bullshit started. 
one day, he was introduced to you fleetingly in the cafeteria while you and Maria had an intense conversation - he’s not sure if you spoke for more than ten seconds; but months later and Joel happens to know exactly what your sweaty skin tastes like on the sharpness of his tongue and could probably list his favorite pairs of underwear you own. 
it's nothing, really. 
you patrol together often, and Joel guesses that out of all the insufferable people he's had to deal with, you're definitely not the worst. perhaps your handiness with a trigger - not nearly as inept as his own but definitely a close second - helps; or maybe it's the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock. 
and he's not stupid; he knows exactly what Tommy was doing when he signed Joel with you for patrol - the same shit he'd been pulling since they were thirty years younger and Joel was fresh out of the relationship with Sarah's mom. but it's different now, because life is not the same - nothing is the same. 
Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job. 
you are one talkative motherfucker; usually, that'd drive Joel up a wall, but after repeated and incessant exposure to Ellie for such an extended period, his patience has surprisingly grown.
and unlike others, you never acted nervous or scared by him. irritated, maybe, but it's not like he cares much if you get irritated by his attitude; you're worse than he can be.
at first, he thought you were just fucking him because you just didn't know who he really was yet. but months into whatever this shit is, and you're still - for whatever fucking reason - hanging around him, even after everything. he likes it, though, that you fight fire with fire.
and maybe that's why Tommy stuck you two together, because in some ways it was inevitable - maybe it was a good thing, Joel thinks. 
but this morning, as Joel's mind slams against his body, jolting him awake, his aching head makes him double-guess that.
it's weird how different it all is now - before you, Joel was tortured through nights plagued with sweats and memories. blood, pain, loss. he used to dream restlessly of life and all of its unforgiving horrors; but now, to his shock, he finds himself plagued with dreams of you. 
he gasps awake - he's not sure he'll ever stop that. 
but this time, you're next to him in the bed. his skin feels warm as the light filters through the blinds that stay constantly pulled down this time of year to retain the cool air and Joel lets out a shuttered sigh, his head aching.
it's only the second time you've stayed the night. he's never stayed at yours, god forbid - but a small part of him aches this morning when you slide out of his heavy, sleep-addled muscles. in the absence of your heat there is still bliss for a moment, until he's roused fully by your voice. 
"these sheets are dirty." the sound carries into his ears, melodic and fiery. he cracks one eye open, hand raising to rub over his face - a deep, tired sigh. 
"g'mornin' to you too." he snarks, sighing as he pulls himself on aching muscles to blink his eyes open; you stand over the bed, on the side that usually remains cold an empty while Joel thrashes in fits of restless sleep. there's not a single scrap of clothing on your body.  
he feels himself stir at the sight of you, naked, neck painted in a splattering of beautiful marks that'd been pulled forth in moments of ecstasy the night before.
you send him a half smirk, shrugging as you tug on a shirt - his, fuck, his stomach swirls at the sight of you wrapped in him. something primal crawls in his chest as you smile at him, legs almost glowing in their bareness as they knock against the side of the mattress. your fingers brush the fabric to the left of his head. 
"there's stains on the pillows." you shake your head, your face alluring in its tease. he feels himself roll his eyes as he grunts, "you're actin' like it ain't your makeup stainin' it?" 
he stares at the marks on the pillowcase; black, from that shit you sometimes put on your eyes which just makes them all the more beautiful, wide, and alluring. the makeup that's surely expired after all this time but still is something you like to do to, as you'd mentioned once, 'reclaim your humanity.' whatever.
Joel would never admit it to you, but he hadn't even really tried to wash out those stains; something about them gives him a warmth in his chest every morning that he wakes up in this cold bed. 
but when his eyes fall back to you in your silence, you smirk and it hits him: you're fucking teasing him.
he glares at you as your lips curl in a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. "if you keep complainin' about every damn thing, might as well just fuck you on the floor." he mutters, mostly to himself-  but also to see the way your thighs shift, eyes widening slightly as color washes your cheeks. you're squirming at his words, just like that - oh, he's got you pinned.
you'd like that, you dirty little thing.
but you regain your composure quicker than lightning, ready to snap back; yet another tally to add on the list of things he admires about you.
"you're such a gentleman, Miller." you snide, fanning yourself sardonically with one hand as you roll your eyes, searching for your underwear. 
he remembers the first time you'd said that to him -
"why so shy?" you'd purred. the memory of your voice curls around his ears as he huffs, watching you bend over and give him a complete view of your ass as you fetch your panties from the floor.  "c'mon, Joel, you don't need to be such a gentleman. 's nothing you haven't seen before." you'd stripped yourself of your shirt, your pert nipples pebbling in the cold breeze as he'd sat, cleaning his rifle. "the hell's the matter with you?" he'd grumbled; but it didn't stop either of you. you'd been pressed between him and the splitting backseat of the broken down crashed car within seconds, anyways. 
his eyes meet yours as you stand again. 
he snarks, "well you’re givin' me a headache, an' I've only been up for two minutes." he glares at you, swinging to pull his boxers over his hips, standing up to find his shirt. he pointedly ignores the glare you send him at his grumpiness. 
"you're the one acting dumb," you mutter, "acting like I'm the one who gives you headaches." you retort, a teasing glint in your eye; he knows that look. Joel knows you'd never get a headache from him - as much as he pisses you off, he knows you're too fiery, too lucky to get caught up in whatever miserable puddle he's drowning in. 
because Joel's bad luck curls around his fists wherever he goes; the talons reaching out, crawling through every hallway and seeping through every door. you, on the other hand, are like a goddamn firecracker. Joel hates the idea, but you're... somehow gifted in that way.
he's convinced his bad luck couldn't touch you if it tried. 
no matter the dumb shit you pull - forgetting a flashlight, not flipping off your safety that one moment when the clicker had stumbled out of the brush; all of that, and you escape unscathed, nothing but a giggle and a half-shrug from you before you move on to the next stupid thing. 
if you weren't such a goddamn brat, it'd be charming. 
his eyes snap to yours as your words fall from your lips; a burning in his chest at your tone. he watches your legs carry you into his bathroom, and he can't help it when his follow yours.
you haven't even flipped on the lights before he shuts the door behind him - you're already wearing that snarky fucking smile on your face, and he's straining already against his boxers.
he stares down at you, crowding you slowly into the wall. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he hisses, mouth close to yours. as you turn your chin up towards his face, he can tell that you try your hardest to control your smirk, playing into the tense energy that's emanating from his chest. 
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"I said you're acting dumb."
you repeat, tilting your head slightly as you drink in the darkness in his eyes. lord, you'd let that darkness swallow you in a fucking heartbeat. 
speaking of; your own heartbeat thunders in your chest, anticipating. you know what's coming, you can nearly taste it on your tongue. 
"oh, 's that right?" Joel asks, tilting his head to stare down at you. you swallow as you stare back into those deep irises, the small bit of golden light that shines through the small bathroom window illuminating in an ominously heavenly ray.
his hand settles on the crook of your shoulder and neck, sliding gently upwards as you nod your head defiantly, pushing as far as you can to see when he'll snap. his eyes glisten in temptation; daring you to act up more. 
raising your brows, you try to play like it's obvious, "waking up and complaining about your headaches, old man?" you tut gently, shaking your head innocently. "I don't think it's my fault that you fucked me twice, immediately passed out and now your head hurts when you've woken up the next morning. you know better than to push yourself in your old age, Joel. that's stupid." you add coyly, knowing it'll push him over the edge - he loves it when you act like a brat, no matter how much he denies it. 
his response is immediate and exactly what you'd hoped for. 
he's on you in a split second - hand sliding from your shoulder to grip your throat, pushing you back onto the wall of the bathroom. the towel bar digs into your middle-back slightly and you gasp in arousal at the force of his body on yours. you can feel his cock, hard and straining in his boxers, as it presses into your lower stomach. 
"y'wanna play like that, baby?" he growls, "why you fuckin' around with an old man like me, then?" he asks.
your face heats up, arousal flooding your core, your cunt slowly wetting itself at the purr of his voice - the meaner the words, the larger the flame. 
"hm?" he gently pushes, raising his brows as his hand squeezes gently on your throat, nudging you against the wall further; your gasp is slightly rasped under the pressure, your whole body screaming with desire. this is what you love - mean, angry, hungry Joel Miller. "'s it because nobody fucks you like I do, is that it?"
his knee slides between yours, wedging himself high up, rubbing suddenly against your aching pussy, the material of your cotton already soaked with a damp spot that rubs against his thick thigh. 
"Joel, fuck-" you groan, already willing to just do what you can to get him to touch you. his hand on your throat tightens at your word, thigh rutting up to slide against your needy clit, your hips bucking at the feeling. "-'s because nobody else is so easy." your fiery mouth betrays your body; the snarky comment snaps his eyes to yours, a dark breath leaving his lips. 
"that's ironic," he snaps, "comin' from someone who begged me to fuck them for hours." 
your face burns at the memory of the first time you and Joel'd hooked up; your desperate voice hoarse from pleading him to fuck you - out in the middle of the woods, a sleeping bag that, by the end, had rips on it from rocks and twigs and the force of his thrusts; the shyness gone from either of you as your touches made up for all the silence between you.
he hums lowly, watching you as you swallow at the memory, his thigh rutting up again and pulling a yelp of pleasure from your lips. "y'don't feel so high 'n mighty when I fuck you stupid, right baby?" he asks, voice dripping with condescendence as he nods gently, encouraging you to answer him. your core throbs at his words, your mouth going dry. 
his hand leaves your throat; you swallow a gulp of air, staring with wide eyes as he grasps your jaw roughly. "answer me." 
"n-no, I don't." you mutter, voice sounding small; the arousal that pulses through your veins begs your mouth to be smart, do what Joel says so he'll give in to what you want. 
he smirks, hands roughly grabbing the thick of your hips and flipping you around to press you against the counter, your hips bending as he shoves himself just behind you. your eyes meet yourself and his own hawkish gaze in the mirror in front of you; your heated breath fogs up the mirror in the faint morning light. 
his fingers thread through your hair, tugging you back again as he tilts your head back. his upside down face, smirking down at you, has your thighs clenching - "open." he orders, voice stern. 
your tongue sticks out and he wastes no time spitting roughly onto your tongue, moving your head back to stare into the mirror; his eyes meet yours as his spit slides over your tongue and his furrowed brows twitch with a slight smirk. "look at you, doin' what I tell you. now swallow it and say thank you." 
your core flutters at his words deliciously as you do as you're told; swallowing, you take a breath and mutter, "thank you," - though it's more breathless than you expected, Joel seems to approve. he hums, "there are those manners," he mutters into your ear, cock pressing against the swell of your ass. "almost seemed like you'd forgotten you had them." 
"didn't forget." you mutter, face heating up as your pussy aches, fluttering around nothing and desiring for his fingers, his cock - anything. 
one rough palm slides his shirt up your torso, exposing your bare tits to both of you through the mirror. with his face stooped down near your neck, a short inhale of your hair before his hand reaches it's destination - your throat. 
"then why're you actin' up?" he rasps, teeth grazing your shoulder. he squeezes his hand again and your eyes roll back in pleasure, arousal soon slicking your thighs as you think you may die from all the teasing. "you don't wanna cum?" 
your eyes widen, breath halting as you shake your head, "wh- no- no!" you hiss, "I do want to cum, please." 
his other hand raises, slapping your breast harsh and quick; your gasp of shock tapers off into a whine of pleasure, your nipples hard in arousal as his palm comes to soothe over the sting. 
"then why're you acting like this?" he asks again, shaking his head. another slap, this time to your other breast. his eyes follow the skin of your chest; the way you gasp, your whines at the slight stinging and the pleasure that follows. fingers pinch your nipples, teasing in circles before another sharp slap echoes through the room. "just a little brat, y'can't help yourself." he decides, biting on your neck lightly. 
you can feel him rut against you hard, grinding his hips as he lets out a short groan. you let out a low moan, whining slightly when he smacks your tits again, skin glowing with the impact. his eyes meet yours in the mirror. "quit the whinin'," he grunts, rutting his hard cock against your ass, "you'll be stuffed full of me soon enough." he grunts, "then we'll see who's dumb." 
your shaky moan sounds more like a groan, elbows falling to steady yourself as Joel releases your throat, tossing you forward to grab your hips instead. he pulls you back, grinding into you as his head tilts back in how own small groan of pleasure. "this ass." Joel grunts to himself as he palms the curve of your ass in both large hands, one falling to smack harsh onto the left. 
you're dripping down the inside of your thighs as he ruts against you twice more; thick fingers soon slide to thumb at the slick wet of your panties. his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with need, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty pussy, just for me." he mutters; you nod, looking up at him through the mirror, "all for you, Joel." you affirm, voice shaking with anticipation. 
"you gonna be good when I fill you up, baby?" he lifts his brow, stern look as he palms himself. fuck, he's so sexy behind you like this, his thumb slowly dragging the material of your panties to the side and exposing your weeping cunt; you nod, "yes, I'll do anything-" 
you're cut off by a sharp gasp as the stretch of his cock's head cuts off your brain. he eases in gently at first which you're more than grateful for - no matter how many times Joel fucks you, his size is always something you have to adjust to; especially after your rounds last night left you barely able to walk straight. 
he lets out a breath, "there y'go, baby, take me." he says it surprisingly gently, easing in inch by inch as you breathe deeply, your soaked pussy easing his cock through your channels. his cock is heavy and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within another few seconds - Joel's hands grip so hard on your ass, splaying you open for him, that you think his fingers will remain there for days. 
he's still only for a moment, letting you accommodate to his size before he's leaning forward to press his chest to your back, "gonna fuck you stupid, baby." 
"please, Joel," you groan, cunt fluttering, begging him to move. "do it." 
it's all that he needs before he's setting a pace that has you whining under him, your breath choking as you brace yourself agains the counter of the sink. 
it's bliss. his hips are sharp, the reach of his cock pressing against the spongy spot inside you, dragging against your pulsing walls. "fuck, so deep-" you hiss, eyes closing in pleasure as he presses himself against you, hips surely going to bruise against the thrusts that shove you into the countertop. 
one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as his cock reaches up into you deeply. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- christ, you're s-so tight," he grunts, "even after fuckin' you all night." 
you moan, the quick bout of his praise causing you to squeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. the both of you moan at the feeling and suddenly one hand presses on your spine until you're low to the counter. his hands grab your shoulders, fingers curling around the base of your throat as he changes his pace to hard and rough, the sound of your ass against his hips nearly hitting your ears over your cries of pleasure. 
the noises of your arousal swallowing his cock echo around the room in a familiar, comforting chorus as you both let out shuttering moans; his strong arms pull you back until you're once again pressed against his broad chest. his breath fans over your neck and you whine slightly when his thrusts press you up onto your tip-toes. his lips find your ear, "how's that feel?" your hole flutters from the deepness in his voice - he groans at the feeling. 
your response is a whine of ecstasy as you claw at his forearms, head tilting back until you can almost feel his erratic heartbeat. his chest rumbles with a light chuckle, "look, barely took ya any time to get fucked out on my cock," he praises, hand petting your wild hair, "knew you'd be good for me. always take what I give you, right?" 
you nod, desperate to reach the climax that's easily built within you from the stretch of him deep in you and his voice in your ear. your clit aches from being ignored and your hand snakes down to rub light circles on it; your hips jolt as you gasp raggedly, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. 
"no." he growls, hand grabbing your jaw sternly as he pounds into you, "when I'm fuckin' you, you keep your eyes on me." he snaps, squeezing your cheeks. "'s that clear?"
you nod in the mirror, whines getting louder as his name falls nearly incoherently from your lips- you see his lips ghost over your neck, the smirk that spreads over his pink lips as you finally get out a strangled, "Joelpleaseplease- s'close-" 
he knows what you need; you and Joel are each other's best escape. he pistons into you hard, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "easy, huh?" he snarls, hips just as harsh as his words, eyes sharp on yours. "who's easy, baby - me, or the one beggin' like a slut to cum on my cock?" 
for someone so quiet and closed off, Joel Miller has never shied away from using his goddamn words when he's fucking you, that's for sure. his words, his accent - they push you towards the edge and it almost distracts you from his question. his eyebrows raise in the silence as you gasp for words, moans choked  as his fingers slide down from your jaw to squeeze your throat. 
"look at'cha, can't even speak for me," he groans, his hand suddenly snaking down to smack your away from your clit; two larger, calloused fingers replace your shaky ones and you wail at the stimulation, almost too much.
you blink up at him through the mirror, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful growing; you let out a whine of ecstasy. "I'm- I'm easy," you concede, finally able to spit your words out, your voice higher than normal in your pleasure. 
Joel nods, kissing your sweaty hairline, "'s goddamn right you are, babygirl," he hisses, "easy for me. this pretty little pussy is mine, isn't it?" 
you scream, "yours, Joel-" before he barely finishes the sentence.
with your words, he smiles against your neck - the feeling of it sends goosebumps over your whole torso. "you're a lucky girl," he growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell before licking it gently, "you can cum." 
you barely realize you've hit your orgasm until you’re writhing - a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision as your eyes roll back. he fucks you steadily through your orgasm, your thighs closing slightly around his large palm, but his fingers don't stop their motions on your clit. 
you shake and stutter for gasps as he pounds into you, chasing his own high that's been spurred - by your own words or the clenching of your orgasm around him, you're unsure. 
"love how you feel-" he groans, voice weakening as he nears his own orgasm, hips sloppy as he pushes your face down, against the cool tile of the bathroom sink. "fuck, baby, made to take this cock." 
his sentences are choppy, his gasps and grunts of pleasure mixing with the slap of your ass against him as he thrusts, your legs tired as he fills you full and then suddenly pulls out. you gasp at the suddenness of his absence, turning to look at him as if betrayed - but he looks completely gone, eyes dark with need. "gonna cum on your tits, sweetheart." 
your stomach flips at the word - one he's never used before - and you relax into his harsh grip, moving down to the ground on your knees as he grunts, "take this shit off now." 
his shirt is on the ground in half a second, your breasts bare to him as he fists his cock, eyes on you and lidded with pleasure. your hands fall onto his strong thighs, looking up at him in awe as he fists his cock, slick with your sticky spend, tip flushed and veins stretching over the shaft. "please, cum on me, want it so bad, Joel," you whine - his hand caresses your jaw and slips over your lips, sticking his thumb into your mouth. you suck eagerly and he moans your name deep, head tilting back in ecstasy. 
"fuck," he grunts, slipping his thumb out of your mouth before you can even swirl your tongue around it, and then he's hitting his orgasm.
ropes of his cum land on your tits, a small bit gathering on your chin as he slows his hand, letting out a few sharp breaths. he's barely caught his breath before your fingers are gathering a swipe of his thick cum, bringing it to your mouth. his dark eyes follow you through his labored breaths as you slowly suck his spend off of your fingers, "fuckin'- pretty," he mumbles into his hand as he runs a palm over his face, shaking his head. 
you smile, cheeks heating up. the sun is rising and the room is fully golden, bouncing off the mirror and illuminating his tan skin, the scars on his body and yours. he's pretty, you realize. 
you tell him so, quietly - in the silence of the bathroom. his scowl softens and you swear you see a blush forming as he rolls his eyes down at you from where you perch on the linoleum. 
Joel always says you only tell him sweet things to get him to fuck you - but in the afterglow of your actions, you catch sight of your makeup-stained pillowcase back in Joel's bedroom and it makes you grin. you know he doesn't wash it for a reason, the same reason you keep coming back to him. 
and you also know that the way he smooths his thumb over your hairline, the way your own hands in turn soothe over his thighs - those actions, they make up for everything else that's unspoken.
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taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @onmytallesttiptoess @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers
message me if i forgot to tag u. i was pretty lazy with this one sorry. requests are open.
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2K notes · View notes
levitiquee · 7 months
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"Coffee? This shit's expensive."
You reached for the packet that was sitting on top of the desk, surprised. Coffee was for rich nobles, not for soldiers with meager pay. Levi swatted at your hand.
"Don't touch my shit."
"What?" You took back your hand, pouting at him. "I was just saying."
Levi shot a glare at you, irritated. "Why don't you just shut up and go back to your work? My possessions are none of your business."
You groaned, eyes flicking to the empty papers in front of you that you were supposed to write reports on. "But I've been working for hours. My fingers hurts. Let me take a break."
"Stop being dramatic.
"I'm not being dramatic. You're being dramatic." You mumbled, again reaching for the package. He didn't try to stop you this time. He only glanced, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance, then going back to working. You were stubborn as fuck and he had learnt long ago telling you not to do something only inspired you to do the opposite, specially when you realized it pissed him off.
"Where the heck did you even get this?" You flip the packet, eyes widening at the price. It wasn't just expensive, it was super expensive. Levi sighed.
"Must you be so nosy all the damn time?"
"Yes." You nod, eager to know. You weren't going to let it go until you got answers. You were stubborn that way. And his unwillingness only made you all the more interested.
Or maybe you just loved pissing him off. It was amusing in a way.
Your crude captain barely ever showed emotions, so you'll take what you get. Even if the only emotions he has the capacity to display is annoyance and frustration.
Getting him riled up was perhaps, the highlight of your day. Only source of entertainment ment in the four walls of this boring facility.
What made it all better was, he'd grumble, he'd complain, he'd spew curses under his breath, but he'd still let you stick around. And he'd rather die than admit it, but it made you think that perhaps, he didn't find you as 'unpleasant' as he says he does after all.
"I didn't get it." He responded irritatedly, eyes on the papers.
"Huh?" You tilted your head, not satisfied. "What do you mean? What, this packet just grew legs and started walking and came all the way up over here? Plus, I didn't think you even like coffee. I only ever saw you drink tea–"
"You talk too much."
"Okay but," You ignored his little snide remark. "No, but this is premium quality and you haven't even opened it yet. Why'd you get it of you won't have it?"
"I didn't get it." He repeated. "And I don't like coffee."
"Thought so." You nodded. That's also another reason you were surprised to see the packet. He loathed coffee, you knew. Even though the cheap shit served in the cafeteria was truly repulsive, you would chug it down without hesitation. And the face Levi made every damn time was worth it all. That's how you learnt the bitter captain surprisingly hated the bitter drink.
"So if you're not gonna have it, can I have some? Because I'm falling asleep."
"No. I can't stand the smell of it."
"Of course you don't." You scoffed. "You drink your tea just fine though. In my opinion, that tastes more horrible."
"I didn't bring you here to comment about my drink preferences."
"Volunteering. Because you have shit preferences and someone needs to let you know–"
"Do you ever shut up?"
"No." You grinned. "Where'd you get it captain?"
"If I tell you, will you shut up?" He looked up, exasperated.
You pretended to consider. "Perhaps."
He glared at you.
"Okay I might." You nodded. "No promises, but I might. Go on, tell me."
He stared at you skeptically, weighing his options of either answering your questions so that you'd let it go or smack you in the face with the heavy file. He was seriously considering the latter at this point.
Then he sighed.
"I just know this is gonna make this worse." He muttered. "If you must know, it was a gift."
"A gift?!" Your jaw dropped.
"Captain! Who gifted you something so expensive? Don't tell me you have a secret lo-"
"Get your mind out of the gutter." He snapped, cutting you off before you could say it.
"Okay." You raised your hand in mock surrender. "Okay. No secret lovers got it. Who was it then?"
He pinched his nose bridge closing his eyes. Bracing himself for the shit you were going to give him after what he's going to say next.
"Some random Garrison Regiment Squad leader I think. Captain sova or shiva or something of that sort. Carried some heavy loads for her and then she got all soppy and grateful and wanted to express her thanks, despite my insistence that I despised coffee." He explained, ignoring the change on your expression with every word. Dear walls, he can practically hear the screws turning in your head.
"...no way." You gaped at him.
"How expensive is this shit anyway?" He reached for the packet, curiosity poking him at the genuine disbelief in your face.
"50$?" His eyes widened, brows raising. He had no idea gratitude for helping out was worth that much.
"You're just noticing it now?!" You were absolutely appalled.
"I told you I have no interest towards coffee." He said defensively.
"But– how could you not?"
"Because it's insignificant?"
"It's–" You weren't sure whether you should laugh or cry. "Have you heard of the term, 'curiosity'?"
"I simply don't care. I have way too much in my plate to sit around and observe the price of a coffee package. Have I mentioned that I loathe coffee?"
"Jeez, it was a gift. You could at least pretend to care."
He only raised an eyebrow.
"I mean..you might not have a lot of interest in coffee," You said. "But she sure sounds as if she had much interest in you."
"She? The captain?" Levi furrowed his brows, clueless.
"Yes?!" You were even more confused to see his confused expression. "Who else would I talk about?"
He shook his head. "You're misunderstanding. She was just grateful."
"Grateful because you helped her heave heavy things? So she pays you back with 50$?"
Levi pressed his lips together, considering your words. Now that he thinks about it... no it's just you making the situation more than it is.
" .... How am I to know what she was thinking?" He said finally.
You rolled your eyes. "Well.." You asked after a while. "Did she try to express her gratitude in..any other way?"
"You're not gonna drop this, are you?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Of course you won't, you nosy little shit." He sighed. "She sent me a letter last monday."
You almost fell out of your chair. "You're telling me this now?!" You demanded. "What did she say?" Half of your body was practically on the desk, you were so leaning forward so much in excitement
"You're hopeless." He shook his head at the gleam in your eyes. "Not everything is drama. She only thanked me and asked if she could treat me to dinner some night."
It was how he said that with a straight face that got you. The lack of interest, the blank expressions, it all added up.
You sat back down in silence as you realized that he wasn't really trying to deny anything because he was flustered.
He simply had no fucking idea.
"Captain. Just..how dense are you?" You asked softly, almost in awe. How a man like him could be so clueless you had no idea.
"Watch your mouth, brat."
"No offence meant." You said casually, setting his irritated words aside, too invested to give a fuck. "But did you say yes?"
"To what?"
"The dinner proposal? What else?"
"Of course not." He looked surprised you even considered the idea. "Do you have any idea how busy I am? And it's annoying. She's acting as if I saved her life and now she owes me a life debt."
You internally sent words of sympathy to the unfortunate woman. Girlie couldn't have picked a worse person to flirt with.
"Oh poor her."
"What poor her?"
"Captain. Do you seriously...not realize that she..asked you out..?"
He stared at you for a few seconds, ears growing red. "Bullshit." He muttered.
It took every bit of your effort to hold back the laugher bubbling in you. It was already difficult enough to keep a straight face. He looked so embarrassed it was hilarious.
You wondered how many girls had ever flirted with him like this and he had no fucking idea, probably shook it off thinking they were just being nice. How many hearts has he broken without even realizing it?
"Well, was she pretty at least?"
He shot an incredulous look. "I can't even remember her name, and you think I memorized her face?"
"Huh. Fair enough."
A giggle escaped you despite your hard efforts to hide your amusement. That seemed to have embarrassed him more.
"Don't laugh. There's nothing funny here."
"Oh if only you knew exactly how hilarious it is." You grinned. "I'm like two seconds away from losing it."
"I will hit you if you don't stop laughing."
You pursed your lips, the corner of your mouths still quirking up.
"Captain."
"No." He cut you off. He was tired. He was embarrassed. He was flustered. He had zero desire left to talk with you and he was fully aware nothing that ever comes out of your mouth is pleasant.
But of course you ignored him.
"Have you ever even been on a date?"
He groaned, cursing internally. This is the last thing he wanted to talk about today.
"You have no sense of privacy." He hissed.
"No. I'm serious. Because that seems highly unlikely." You continued, yet again paying no mind to his pissed remarks.
"I'm too busy."
"Nah." You shook your head. "You're too clueless. You wouldn't be able to tell if someone likes you even if they held up a sign with huge red block letters spelling out the words 'I love you!'"
"Stop."
Yeah, you weren't sure how much longer you could hold that laugh back.
"You've never been on a date in this... I don't know, how old even are you– like twenty something years of your life?"
"I'm thirty. And no."
"Holy fuck, you're old." You exclaimed, caught off guard by the information. You knew he was older than you, just didn't think he was in thirties already. He looks so...young.
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"It's not that old. I'm hardly a couple years older than you."
"Still old." You shrugged. "But damn, you're life's as dry as sandpaper."
"You do realize my life revolves around fighting titans? So excuse me if I didn't give romance a chance because I was too busy trying not to die." He mumbled.
You spluttered a cough trying to hide the sound of the laughter choking you. He had looked away when he said the words, but the tips of his ears were so, so red.
Never in your life have you seen him this flustered.
"Can you shut up now and let me work?"
"Aren't you charming?" You raised an eyebrow.
Then you paused.
"Say, captain, let me help you." You suddenly said. You couldn't resist the urge to fuck with him a little more. You'd be damned if you didn't.
"With... what?"
You grinned. "Dating. I could be your official love life assistant."
The reaction was exactly as you thought it'd be. His face was absolutely flushed.
"Fuck off."
"Now, that's just mean." You pretended to be offended. "Tip 1: you don't speak to ladies like that."
He stood up without saying a word, walking around the table and stopping besides you. Then with two fingers, he flicked your forehead. Hard.
"Ouch." You cursed under your breath, rubbing your temple and turning to look at him as he walked towards the door. "What was that for?"
"Youre insufferable." He said as he twisted open the door.
"Why thank you." You mumbled as he slammed the door shut behind him. "You're extremely lovable as well, beloved captain."
Levi leaned against the door, the corners of his mouth twitching up the slightest as he heard your laugher through the door.
Oh, but here's the the thing Levi hadn't told you.
That maybe, maybe, the reason he never even considered the approaches of the admirers, or even sometimes realize their intention wasn't because he was clueless. Maybe it's because he barely ever processes the words or the actions, think about it for a second for the situations to make sense.
That maybe, he had no intention to let anyone new in his life because he already had you. What more could he possibly want?
How could he? Not when you existed in his life, with your stupid face and your stupid voice and your stupid, stupid, stupid laugh.
Maybe, just maybe.
He doesn't notice faces much because yours never leave his mind.
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@sad-darksoul
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randomshyperson · 5 months
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I Wanna Be Yours - Heart Shaped Series
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Chapter Summary: Once again separated, Wanda calls and brings news that changes everything, whether for better or for worse, it's still too early to say.
Warnings: (+18), making out, shapeshifting smut, intimate and unprotected s*x, creampie, fingering (both), slightly power dynamics, fluff and mild angst, avengers fighting like a family, brief mention of violence and injuries, some humor. | Words: 7.087k
A/N-> Am I getting too addicted to writing Shapeshifter Reader? Maybe. What can I do, it's so fun. Also, this is kinda late 'cause I spend the whole weekend watching Orphan Black (it's amazing). I hope you all like this, it took me some time, good reading!
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-&-
Limping and bleeding, you kept moving. The suspenders of your uniform were unbuttoned and hanging around your waist, and you grunted in pain as you leaned against the wall of the secure apartment, needing a moment to overcome your fatigue to open the door.
Cleaning the wound in silence was the worst part; your powers were messed up by the whole thing, and even though you tried to change, the blood kept coming out and you were forced to find a sewing kit and solve the problem.
Half an hour later, on the living room carpet still trying to stop shaking, your cell phone rang.
You thought it was Valentina, wanting to know if the whole thing had worked out. You almost cursed under your breath, this checking habit of hers always irritated you; the jobs always worked out, especially if the payment was made in advance. You were a professional, and the attitude carried an insinuation that you would fail, and if Valentina continued with it, perhaps it would be better for her to find someone else for the job. 
But in a way, you knew that all this lack of patience had other reasons: with every stray bullet, every insult, and more difficult fight, you wondered what was the point of it all. You remembered Wanda Maximoff smiling at you, kissing you, and started to wonder if taking all that risk was worth anything, especially when crime made it so difficult to have moments with that witch who wouldn't leave your thoughts.
And as if guessing, it was Wanda calling. You smiled immediately, feeling a little excited for the first time that morning.
It had been so long since you heard her voice. After everything that unfolded with the Avengers splitting up and being chased, and this latest intense mission which, despite being very well paid, made it practically impossible for you to visit her. At last, Wanda was calling.
"Little witch." You greeted as soon as you picked up, only to hear a heavy sigh on the other end that made you frown in confusion. "Wanda?"
She sniffled, and you ignored the pain in your body to sit up straight. "I have to tell you something."
"Is everything all right? Are you hurt? Are you with your friends?"
"Detka, please." She interrupts you. "Just listen, okay?"
"Wanda, you're scaring me."
"I'm all right." She assures you straight away. "I'm safe, I promise. But I have... to tell you something. And I need you not to freak out, because I'm scared and if you get scared too, I don't think I can manage."
You sigh uncertainly, but end up agreeing. "I'm listening."
It takes Wanda a whole moment where the only sound is her breathing on the line. Until finally; "I think I'm pregnant." Your immediate reaction is to frown in a mixture of confusion and surprise. You don't say anything because you don't know what to say, and your silence makes Wanda sniffle again. "You have to say something."
You open your mouth, only to let out a short, nervous laugh. "I know, I just... I don't know what."
Wanda sighs, looking like she's trying to control her emotions. "Okay, I didn't expect, well I don't know what I expected. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, we, I can take care of this and then-"
"Wait, what?" you interrupt. "Wanda, take a deep breath, okay? Just give me a second to think." You struggle to get to your feet, and with the injury, let out an involuntary grunt of pain. 
Wanda grips the phone tightly. "Where are you? Are you hurt?"
You chuckle weakly. "It's nothing, I've taken care of it." 
"Detka..."
"No, that's kind of funny actually." You continue, stumbling around the apartment after your suitcase. "And I don't say this to worry you, love, but I've barely made it out of this mission. I'm losing my touch, I guess, or maybe I just don't want this anymore. And when I was shot, I just had this really sad thought that if I died on that island, no one would care. The shooter would probably be very glad, and my boss would be annoyed at losing money but would surely find someone else for the job. What I'm trying to say is that I had no reason to get up, but then I thought, if I die here, my little witch will see my picture in the news and I don't want to go without saying goodbye. Wanda deserves at least a goodbye. So I got up, shot a few more assholes, and managed to escape to this dingy apartment and sewed myself back together, all the while wondering if this is what I really want to do with my life. The answer is no, Wanda. I don't want to have hundreds of people targeting me and risk my safety for a handful of jewels or whatever other shit I have to steal from narcissistic billionaires scattered around the world. I just want to lie next to you, and watch you laugh at some joke on TV, or have meals next to you and kiss you, you know? And now you call me, to give me the best news in the world over the goddam phone. That's not how it should be." You zipper up a suitcase with a few changes of clothes safely inside. "My only purpose is to be with you, Wanda Maximoff. I don't want to have this conversation miles away from you, so just hold on. I’ll come to you.”
This time, you know she's crying with happiness. She laughs tearfully as she says, "I'll be waiting, detka. Don't be long."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Not surprisingly, the hardest part was getting to Wanda. Being a fugitive in the majority of nations has its disadvantages. It took almost two whole weeks for you to finally arrive at the address Wanda texted you, and unfortunately, you were late.
Only a very angry black widow was there to welcome you.
"I'm going to kill that girl." Nat declared as soon as she laid eyes on you. You tried to wave but ended up jumping in fright when a man's hand touched your shoulder. 
Steve Rogers and his nomad beard chuckled at your reaction. "You shouldn't be here, kid."
Recovering from the shock, you grimaced and pushed his hand away with a pat. "Don't kid me, Mr. America. And this is a free country, I can be wherever I want."
Nat chuckled, a hologram coming out from her watch reflecting brightly in the dimly lit room. The Avengers needed better safe houses, not even in your first years of crime did you stay in such a crappy loft. 
"That's a great one coming from an Interpol fugitive." He sneers back, but you lift your chin proudly.
"And what's it like being in this position? Have you come down off the moral high ground or do you still think you're better than the rest of us, Rogers?" You challenge, and although you sigh, Steve surprises you. 
He chuckles, shaking his head. "She's just like Wanda." He says to Nat from across the room, who clicks her tongue. 
"Yep, same punk-ass attitude." Grumbles the widow, but despite the grimace, it sounds more like a compliment than a curse. "I can't believe Wanda thought it was acceptable for her to share the location with anyone."
You snort incredulously. "I'm not 'anyone', Romanoff! I'm her…girlfriend!"
Nat rolls her eyes, ignoring your protest and Steve steps out of the doorway to approach his friend. "So Nat, is the place clean?"
The widow forces a smile. "Apart from the shapeshifter intruder, yes. We've left no clues behind. And considering the agent's new agenda, we're going to have a peaceful few weeks for the time being. Wilson and Maximoff can stop moving for a while."
"Good news at last." Steve commented, but you cleared your throat.
"Any chance of me catching a ride to the place Wanda won't have to flee from?" You ask, and their expression doesn't give you any more confidence. "Okay, I'll wait for her to give me the address and I'll go by myself."
Nat chuckles incredulously, taking a step forward. "It's astonishing how irresponsible you two are." She says. "I know it must be hard for you to think of anyone but yourself, but you need to stop putting her at risk."
You snort. "The only astonishing thing here is your judgment, Romanoff. Acting like you were born a hero. Have you forgotten everything you did before the Avengers or Shield?" You retort. "You're no better than me."
But Nat snorts, nodding. "The difference is that I never had a choice. I was trained from birth for it, I didn't know any other life until Barton and Fury gave me a chance. You revel in chaos."
You don't lose posture, even as emotion begins to rise in your chest. "You know nothing about me."
"But we know about Wanda." Steve interrupts the conversation, as accusatory as the widow. "After everything that happened in Sokovia, she's our responsibility. Our family. It's not something anyone who isn't an Avenger can understand. And I know that she was vulnerable with the loss of her brother and that you took advantage of it."
You take a step forward, shocked by such a low accusation. "Take that back! I would never-"
"Oh, cut it out." Steve insists. "We all know about the kind of work you do, manipulation and lies are your specialties. Your signature is to deceive." He accuses, and for the first time, Nat flinches. Because the whole conversation could easily be handed back to her, and perhaps already has been by other people. "What's all this about? What do you want from Wanda?"
"Not everything is about work. Maybe I just fucking love her!"
Steve laughs incredulously. "Oh please-" But Nat interrupts the whole thing with an annoyed snort.
"That's enough, both of you."
The captain looks at her with some surprise. "Come on Natasha, you don't really believe she's serious." He is careful to lower his tone, like a private conversation between the two of them, an almost silent agreement about letting you go or not. Still, in that empty place, it's easy to hear what they're saying. "Weren't you the one who always says that love is for children?"
The joke is not well received. Natasha takes on a hard expression as she faces Steve. "Do you really want to discuss this, Rogers? When we're all risking our necks over your feelings for Barnes?"
Steve steps away dumbfounded. "It's not like that! We're freeing someone innocent! The right thing-"
"Would be to bring him to justice." Natasha interrupts without losing her tone. "The morally and legally right thing would be to bring the person responsible for 100 years of crimes to justice. There's no other answer, no other way around it. But he's family, and you're family. And that's why I'm here, and all the others who will stand by your side and go against the law and risk their necks, jobs, and safety. Things aren't as black and white as this right and wrong discourse and by now I'd hoped you'd be able to recognize that better, Steve."
He looks away, embarrassed and thoughtful. Nat sighs and takes the opportunity to approach you again.
"I can give you a ride. Just don't make me regret it, okay?"
For the moment, that's all Natasha offers in solidarity with you. It's the kindest thing an Avenger - excluding Wanda of course - has ever given you. It instantly makes Nat your favorite.
Steve doesn't accompany you two to the safe place. He says he needs time to think, and from the looks he exchanges with Nat, it's not hard to deduce that he's going after the Winter Soldier. You don't know where Sergeant Barnes is, but you have the impression that they do. It's not your place to question or monitor Steve Rogers' movements, so you just respond to the polite nod of farewell he gives you.
He takes the stolen airship, which is a shame because you love riding in those - Valentina's vehicles were never that sophisticated, but you've already managed to steal one of those from Shield and the ride was a lot of fun until you had to dispose of the aircraft in the Caribbean. 
Natasha gets a truck, which makes you assume that the location can't be that far away. It's an incorrect conclusion because she comments on buying train tickets.
You fall asleep in your seat. That must win you some points with Nat, who is surprised that you trust her enough to sleep because when you wake up from a very nice dream with Wanda, she starts small talk.
Accords, favorite crimes, and the morally superior attitude of some agents. Natasha giggles at one of your stories - about getting compromising items from government leaders - and you consider it a personal victory. She herself has stories about missions from her time as Black Widow which, if you don't consider the horror of her childhood, were kind of amusing. It's probably that you're the only person Nat can tell these things to without any kind of judgment. Equal to equal.
She's almost at the nearest station when, at the signal, she surprises you completely.
"I know about the baby."
You blink at her surprised eyes. "Did she tell you?"
But Nat denies it, without taking her gaze off the road now that the two of you are reaching a busier area. Even with the different appearance, the blonde hair being something to get used to, she has to be careful.
"They ran tests before admitting her to the raft. With all of us that they managed to capture at the airport, in fact." says the widow. "It was to categorize skills, check for injuries, but they ended up finding something else."
You sigh, also paying attention to the surroundings and any curious civilians who risk looking inside the vehicle. Everyone seems busy with their own problems, but you also check the streetlights for surveillance cameras.
"She must have been so scared." You whisper, and the guilt surprises Nat. You swallow dry before adding: "I should have been with her."
"What happened, happened. It wasn't really an outsider's fault."
You smile sadly, it's not exactly reassuring, Natasha doesn't seem to be very good at these things, but she's kind enough. She means that the Avengers' fight was something between them and that it wouldn't make sense for you to blame yourself for Wanda's imprisonment. Even so, you feel you could have prevented it if you'd convinced her to run away with you. But again, how different would the life you could offer her would be?
"When I heard about the Raft, she was already gone." You say. "I guess I should thank you for being so fast in getting her out."
Nat chuckles briefly, turning the steering wheel towards the streets beyond the parking lot. This car will probably be abandoned there.
"It wasn't me who got her out, so no." Retorts the widow. "You must have seen the fight on television, the way we were divided." She waited for you to nod in agreement before continuing. "The team that was left standing, Tony’s side I suppose, helped capture the others. Fighting with Steve. But when the tests were done,  General Ross got very nervous. He was afraid the story would leak, and the image of a young terrorist that the media had planted would turn against him, now that it was a pregnant woman being beaten and handcuffed in front of the cameras. His anxiety alerted the others, and well, Stark may be many things, but as soon as he knew the truth, he got her out of there. Vision confirmed the whole thing, he's got some scanning abilities or something. And I think they come up with some story and Vision was supposed to chase her after the vehicle she was in left the route, but Wanda was never found by Ross again. I know Vision and Tony help her. And then she was the first of us to catch up with Steve."
Natasha parks the car. She almost thinks you're busy absorbing the story when you pull something out of your pocket and hold it out to her.
"It was sent to me while I was in Greece. I guess this is my way of making us even." In your hand is the file of a job you rejected a few weeks ago. To track and recover a package of stolen vials, of a defector last seen in Morocco. Unknown contractor, but payment of half a million dollars in advance. 
"You should have taken it, the money was good." Nat commented as she grabbed the photo of the vials attached to a small one of her face with her hair still red, carrying market bags somewhere in Norway, the place where the last trace and possible suspect was seen.
You gave her a short smile, now that Nat had parked the car, she busied herself flipping through the old file. 
"I missed my chance." You mutter. "What about you, Romanoff? Did you miss yours?"
She mimics your smile, shaking her head. "No. This time, I finished off the bastards." She assures you, nodding. "I didn't get the chance to kill Dreykov myself, but someone who deserved it more did it for me."
You nod, respecting Natasha's choice not to delve deeper into that painful subject. You know just enough about the Red Room, and one of the few things is that General Dreykov was the leader and that Romanoff should have killed him years before. If she did it now, the mission must have been to put an end to the whole thing. 
"I kept monitoring Ross, after everything that happened. I heard you made a fool of him when you ran off alone from the team he set up for you."
She shrugged, a smile hiding the pride of her own abilities. From the car, you took only a backpack that she had prepared, and you weren't surprised to see Natasha take out a lighter and burn the files before throwing them in the nearest garbage can. 
Side by side and with your heads down, you walked to the station.
-&-
Wanda has a bit of a meltdown. It's the hormones, you're sure of it.
She jumps on your neck, expelling a sort of magical wave of excitement that makes you almost too cocky to recognize how happy she is to see you.
Natasha gets worried because the windows rattle and the last thing anyone needs is to draw more attention to themselves. She and Sam exchange a quick nod, and the widow mumbles something about the two of them heading out to restock supplies and you know it's a favor so you and Wanda have time to talk alone. The Falcon is confused by the whole thing, and you hear some distant questions along the lines of "Since when do we call the bad guys to the team" before Natasha closes the door.
Not that Sam Wilson's opinions are worth anything when Wanda pulls your face to hers and kisses you with all the longing she's been feeling.
It's passionate and intense and makes your heart soar. You break into a dopey smile like hers, nearly dizzy with love to the point of not being able to say anything. Wanda, as close as humanly possible, speaks first in a husky tone:
"You took your time."
The teasing makes you smile, and without stopping smiling, you start playing with the loops of her jeans. 
"Sorry, darling, you changed your address too quickly. You're getting good at this fugitive life, aren't you, Maximoff?" Your question almost goes unanswered when you decide to make a path of chaste kisses from her cheeks to jaw and to her neck. Wanda sighs affectedly, trying to keep her eyes open.
One of her hands goes to your hair, and she giggles when she feels it grow a few centimeters between her fingers. You nibble her ear before looking her in the eye and are greeted by dilated, curious pupils. 
"Why have you changed?" she asks quietly, her fingers still assessing the new length of your hair.
You scrunch up your nose, a gesture that has become habitual with the witch snuggled up to you. "I'm just following your friend's safety tips." You explain casually. "All I need is a cap and sunglasses and my Avenger disguise is complete."
Wanda snorts good-naturedly, knowing full well that you're making fun of the bad disguise she was wearing when you two first met. To be fair, Natasha has always believed that the simplest is the most effective, and so far, most Avengers have managed to go unnoticed with just glasses and a cap, no matter how ridiculous it may seem.
"Maybe I should follow her example." Wanda then comments, and although she seems to be focused on what she's saying, you're surprised to realize that her hands have reached down to remove your belt. "What if I get some blue highlights?"
Your laugh is a little hoarse and distracted because Wanda has thrown the belt into some corner of the apartment and is pulling you both backward, probably to where her bedroom should be. 
"I guess you either go big or go home."
She hums thoughtfully, perhaps making some mental note of the matter. You're more focused on the way she slips her hands inside your blouse and scratches your stomach, biting her lip as she feels your muscles twitch. 
Wanda closes the bedroom door with her foot, and you don't put up any resistance to feeling her lips on yours, hungry and impatient this time.
The kisses are too hot for you to think coherently, but you hear the last remnants of reason to hold a half-naked Wanda by the waist.
She, as breathless as you, looks at you with some concern and confusion at the interruption.
"Is something wrong?" Wanda asks hoarsely.
You swallow dry, your hands on her waist. "It's okay, it's just..." And suddenly, you seem very shy. You can feel your cheeks flushing, and maybe you should force your body not to have this kind of reaction, but you never do that with Wanda. You don't have to hide things from her. She looks at you expectantly, her hands caressing your shoulders as a way of reassuring you. "Hm, I was wondering, are we supposed to be doing this when you're...." And you looked down a little, at her belly, until Wanda understood.
She broke into a shy giggle, then looked up at you. "Oh, darling, you're so adorable." She declares, stealing a kiss before tenderly explaining; "It's still early, very early. I imagine it's only going to start being a problem towards the end, and well, I'm going to be a nervous, angry, horny mess by then and I think you'd better not dare deny me that kind of relief!"
You nod foolishly, panting that you will certainly do whatever she wants. Wanda's face takes on a new color, and she bites back a smile, her eyes darkening.
"Whatever I want? I like the sound of that." She retorts, leaning in to break the distance again. The next kiss is almost a shut-up, charged with naughty intentions. She sucks on your tongue and you practically whimper. It's such a submissive sound that it surprises you both for a moment. "Oh, moya lyubov (my love), parenthood has turned you into a whiny mess..."
You groan in a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, turning your face away. "And it made you quite mean, apparently." 
She doesn't allow you to be grumpy. She grabs your chin and pulls off your pout with a kiss that's dirtier than the last. You can only moan in response, and when Wanda determinedly gropes her way into your pants, not bothering with foreplay, and is greeted by a dampness so massive it could be embarrassing, it's she who breaks into a moan.
"Fuck, I almost forgot how damn hot you feel on my fingers." You even try to regain some control of the kiss, to get that cocky attitude out of your girlfriend, but there's no way to do it when Wanda sinks two fingers inside you, as deep as the position allows. All that rips through your lips is a throaty moan. Wanda giggles mischievously at your reactions. "I really can't choose, baby. Having you squeezing my fingers or buried inside me. If you can keep up the pace, do you think we could try the second one later?"
It wasn't really a difficult request to comply with - until it was, because Wanda was more insatiable than usual. The first orgasm on the armchair was not even close to being enough for her. Neither for you, to be fair.
Wanda seemed to have discovered something new - a dominant attitude that you both hadn't yet explored. As far as you're concerned, whatever Wanda wishes will work for you. You're there to please her, simple as that.
She seems to have no restrictions on the ways this can happen. With her fingers deep inside you, her tongue swirling across your clit or changing positions, and sitting on your face and coming messily until she's squirming all over the sheets.
She already came four times when you sense a change of attitude, and the connection between you and her is so intimate, that Wanda has barely adjusted herself on the bed and you're already hugging her from behind, your arms around her and your mouth busy marking her neck. She gives you a sleepy smile, looking truly ruined for the first time all night. It suddenly occurs to you that she'll tire more easily now.
You kiss behind her ear and adjust your hips. Wanda sighs as she feels the familiar hardness rubbing up against her ass.
"Don't tell me you don't have some energy saved up for your own challenge?" You tease next to her ear, grinding gently into her. The friction elicits heavy sighs from both of you, and Wanda grabs your hand that rests on her belly before entwining your fingers together.
“Just one more, dorogoy (sweetheart).” She whispers as she guides your hands into her chest. Your free one helps yourself fit into her, and the same moment you grope her naked breast, playing with the hard nipple, you bury your cock inside her. Wanda lets out a sinful moan, her velvet walls welcoming you with a breathtaking heat. You nearly came with the mere state of being inside her - the way she squeezes you takes you off orbit for a moment.
You wanna be gentle, she’s a pregnant lady for god’s sake. But it seems that Wanda expects just the opposite the second you move - She takes the lead of the movements, your hips serving as a lever for her to rock back into your cock. You have to bite her shoulder to keep yourself from coming, and her response is to hold your hand thingly against her breasts, a single request for you to keep stimulating her nipples. 
There’s no way to keep this peace for long - Wanda herself feels her body betraying her a short moment after, the deep strokes of your cock taking her to blinding pleasure now for her to do more than drool into her pillow. You found a sweet spot and she arches her back, a new wave of arousal dripping down her thighs. 
She struggles to catch a breath - trying to tell you she's close. There’s no need, really. You can feel the tightness increasing, and it’s impossible for you to hold it when Wanda finally comes. She cries out your name and her body goes stiff the next second. Your cum stays inside her, just like your cock. 
“That was… fuck…” She tries to form a thought, all tingly, with numb, tingling legs. You kiss her shoulder, slowly rocking your hips only to hear her soft protest. “Too much, babe.”
After so many orgasms, that’s not a surprise. But Wanda feels so tender, it’s so addictive. You move a hand down, to play with her clit between her fingers and she can’t help but whine.
“Who’s the whiny mess, now?” You tease and Wanda's attempt at response turns into a deep groan when you thrust into her powerfully, enough to shake the bed. She chokes into a moan next when you start to catch a rhythm. Your fingers, toying with her neglected clit almost bring her to insanity. 
The next climax comes faster than the last, and it’s harder. You have your face buried in her neck, your bodies entangled together as you move inside her. Wanda presses her face into her pillow when she comes, pleasure tears wetting the bed like her squirt. You groan against her skin when you fill her up this time, balls deep into her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your rusky moans in her ear prolong her climax - she can feel herself squeezing the emptiness when you pull out. A mess of white cum coming out from both of you. It’s such a dirty sexual act to stroke yourself a little longer, to spread out every drop of your pleasure into her skin. 
Everything, every drop, belongs to Wanda. It’s all hers, because of her. 
Suddenly, she wishes she could do the same. Fill you up too, and own every version of your pleasure. This thought is written into her brain and pushed away so she can call your name. Your warm arms are around her before she can miss them.
“I should get you clean up.” You whisper and she holds closer.
“Later.” It’s all she whispers back, being defeated by her exhaustion next. 
You kiss the top of her forehead once she falls asleep, a smile on your lips before you allow yourself to give up on the tiredness as well.
-&-
If it hadn't been for the memories of last night and the sweet scent you knew, your natural reaction would have been to jump away in alarm at the soft caress in her hair. But you knew it was Wanda, and instead of running away, you sank your face against her neck and felt her giggle slightly, her heart racing before settling down.
She adjusted a little a minute later, and with a husky voice in your ear, whispered; "You have to get up, darling. We should talk."
Despite the soft tension that rose in your shoulders, Wanda's request was really just that. As a matter of course, it made you almost displeased that she would hold something like that back so as not to bother you. 
You hummed in agreement and placed a chaste kiss on her neck before pulling away. Wanda watched you expectantly, but you just stretched and pulled the covers off as if nothing important needed to be discussed.
She couldn't contain her own anxiety. "Are we going to talk now?"
You chuckled briefly, glancing at her for a second before looking around the room for your clothes. "I think we need to eat something first."
"Y/N..."
"I'm not avoiding the conversation." You interrupt her sincerely, to reassure the fears she can't hide from her eyes. You offer her a smile, your hands clutching the pants you've just found. "I'm just hungry. And I know you are too. This isn't an unpleasant topic, Wanda, it's just going to be difficult. For obvious reasons." You gesture softly, signaling to the hideaway room, so different from the fancy one she lived in in the tower. By instinct or not, once your pants are on, you also gently stroke the knife scar on your abdomen. Wanda knows exactly what you mean. "I think we're going to need a real plan. But I really don't want to come up with one on an empty stomach."
She nods, trying to smile but almost grimacing. Wanda is so nervous. All the passion of last night and the excitement of meeting you again are now calming down, and reality is coming back to her. You finish dressing and offer one last smile of reassurance before leaving the room in search of something to eat, and Wanda's immediate reaction is to put a hand over her belly.
She gasps softly. Her magic is able to feel life growing there. Her eyes fill with tears. 
Looking around, she spots some mold on the walls. She notices some of Natasha's stolen surveillance equipment tucked away in a corner so they can track the agents and breaks down a sob.
How could she let this happen? How could she be so irresponsible as to think of having children in such a condition? Even before, she no longer had a home. Living with the Avengers was almost a favor, an employment contract. And what kind of mother could she be in a superhero routine anyway?
And on top of everything, her child won't be able to meet her uncle either, buried in a land she once called home.
Wanda only realizes she's in the middle of an anxious thoughts spiral because suddenly a voice is calling her name. Your face comes into focus again, and she realizes that you're trying to help her breathe.
Great, a panic attack was all she needed.
"Hey, baby, it's okay, I'm here with you. Just breathe, okay?" you guided, gesturing for her to imitate your breathing. In a corner of the room, a breakfast tray smelled very good. Wanda tried to follow your lead, naming five objects she could see. She could see eggs, bacon, waffles, and orange juice. She could see a shiny chain with a small ring around your neck.
"Where did you get this?" She asks breathlessly about the item, and you smile pleased to see that she is coming to her senses.
"China, three years ago. I was working at the time, and I had a bad habit of keeping souvenirs." You say, stroking her hair. "It was in my pocket, and I put it back while I was in the kitchen. That's why you didn't get a chance to see it last night. Do you like it?"
She hums in agreement, having to close her eyes for a moment. You wait, wiping away her tears until Wanda has calmed down completely.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She starts as soon as she can speak without crying. You mumble that it's okay, but Wanda keeps talking. "I just started thinking about how we're going to do this. How are we going to raise a child in this kind of life? We don't even have a home, let alone money. What if I end up in prison again, and they want to take my baby away and-"
"Wanda, calm down, nothing like that is going to happen." You interrupt but she shakes her head.
Just a second later, she breaks into a sob. "I'm so scared." She confesses tearfully.
You look into her eyes.“I’m scared too.” You confess in the same, a relief laugh escaping your lips now that you’re both being honest with each other for good. “I’m nearly petrified, to be fair. But it’s alright, Wanda. It is. Because for the first time in my life, I am not alone. I have you and you have me, and as luck would have it, a bunch of grumpy superheroes as well. We don’t have to be so scared, we got this. I’m here for you, sweetheart.”
She sniffles, getting shy all of a sudden. Her gaze goes to her lap before she finds your eyes again. And then she whispers: “I love you.”
You blink widened eyes at her, caught off guard. Wanda swallows, but then she smiles. She never needed words anyway; Your actions towards each other were always more than enough, not only for her but for the whole world to see exactly how much you cared for one another. 
“You don't have to say anything-”
“I love you too.” You cut her out, a bit out of breath. Wanda can feel her cheeks growing pink and it doesn’t help that yours are doing the same. But you giggle shyly then, letting her go to cover your red face for a moment. “Shit, why does that feel so weird? My chest is so warm…” Your reaction elicits a hearty chuckle from her.
“Perhaps you’re allergic to love confessions.” She teases, receiving a playful warning stare before you bring your arms around her once more, to pull her closer and on your lap. Wanda doesn’t waste time in pressing her lips to yours, smiling into the kiss like yourself.
You break apart to tell her: “Don’t get so cocky, but you’re the first person I said that to.” She hums contently, her fingers playing with the hair on your nape. You stare at her eyes for a moment, just memorizing every aspect of her face as if she would ever leave your mind, until both of you are scrunching up your noses, making funny faces at each other and breaking into shared giggles the next. 
You could marry her, right now at that second. Instead of asking, you just let out a deep breath and hug her again. The atmosphere of the room changed to a comfortable so intimate that for a second, you could believe that dirty hideout room was actually a home.
"We’re gonna be alright, Wanda." You whisper next. “I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you again.”
She sighs, breaking the hug to look at you. Her soft hands caressing your cheeks. “You can’t promise that, and it’s okay. Because I love you and I can do anything with you here.”
You kiss her briefly. “I can promise. I just did, the universe can fuck off, I’ll stand by my girl.” It’s your stubborn response before you break the distance again to kiss her.
For the first time in a long while, Wanda doesn’t feel so scared. She trusts you entirely, even if your promise is impossible and the future holds a nearly dangerous uncertainty. You’ll take care of her and she’ll do the same for you. 
She allows herself to push away real life, at least during breakfast. Sharing food in bed, giggling like two love-stuck teenagers. Making love in her bed all day, whispering sweet nothing to each other.
Until it’s time to get up and face reality.
Despite the evidence of your previous activities - matching set of hickeys and borrowed clothes - none of the Avengers pay any mind to that. Sam is clearly getting used to your presence, but he offers a grin at Wanda’s state before focusing on Natasha’s repeating security tips for him.
The widow is about to ask you and Wanda for a chat, you both can see in her expression that she wants to know how the whole baby thing will work out from now on when her cell phone rings. She steps out for a moment, muttering to whoever is on the other side - Wilson tells Wanda that’s probably Steve wanting to share locations and wondering if everything is alright. But when Natasha comes back to the room, she’s tense and serious.
She takes a deep breath and looks at Wanda.
“Clint decided to make a deal. For his family.” She says. Doesn’t take much explanation for you or Sam to understand that the Feds got him and instead of going back to the raft, he got himself some special conditions considering his service history. Wanda, out of surprise or denial, stares back at Nat with confused eyes. The widow sighs. “He’s not coming back.”
You don’t know everything about the Avengers dynamics, but you know about Wanda. And how much she cared for Clint since the man was some sort of mentor for her. That and well, Pietro gave his life for him so that has to mean something. Clint was supposed to take care of Wanda, not just turn his back on her like that. She didn’t need to join the team or this fight, but she did, at his request, and now he didn’t even bother to look after her, to make sure she was safe and well before taking deals that wouldn’t allow them to see each other for quite some time.
The saddest part is that Wanda understands it. Family comes first, after all. So even though it made her sick to her stomach, she wasn’t his daughter. Not really.
“It’s okay.” She forces a smile, trying to look “okay” for Natasha’s pitiful eyes. “Seriously, Nat. It’s fine. I hope it was a good one. Maybe Sam should try it too, he has family as well.”
Wanda is clearly taking the focus out of her, and because you can see her shaking, you take her hand. She instinctively leans into you, finding some calming comfort in your heat.
Sam scratches behind his head, a little unsure of how he became the center of attention suddenly. “Hm, yeah, but… I should wait a little. I mean, my sister is fine. She has nothing to do with any of this, so I think she can manage to be without my help for a few more weeks.”
Natasha merely shakes her head in knowledge, her attention on the witch pretending everything was fine. “Sure thing Wilson.” She mutters. “Wanda, I know Clint wanted to say goodbye, but he just… needed to make a choice.”
Yep, that definitely didn’t help Wanda feel any better. You offer Nat a look, but the widow is almost too terrible at the whole consolation thing.
“What I mean-”
“He chose his family. I got it the first time, Nat, I didn’t need it to hear it twice.” Wanda cuts off, very harshly. Hurt. “Like I said, it’s fine. I’m not a fucking child, I can understand why he did it. He was three kids and Nathaniel is just a baby.”
You try to ease the tension on Wanda’s shoulders by kissing the exposed skin of her neck. She smiles sweetly, still upset but appreciative of your gesture. The scene seems to make Nat remember something very important.
“Well, speaking of babies…”
Turns out the other Avengers forgot to mention that to Sam. He got very loud and excited.
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Between The Wall
Pairing: Sagau!Aether x Reader
Summary: Aether finds solace in the voice, he once hated and now loves.
!Warning!: First Time Writing, might be bad!
Part 2/3
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"—Argh...! Stop it, Aether!" you scream in frustration, putting down your phone on the bed with an annoyed face.
it's been a few weeks since you started to play Genshin Impact after being tempted by your schoolmate to download the game. They already told you the gist of what you should know before starting the game itself.
But, they never mention about this game has the main character a self-aware implement into their character.
At first you notice the way Aether's face scrunched up in discomfort after the prologue. It makes you creep out but then you remember that your schoolmate has told you about a few of their self-aware elements, though they just told you about their reaction when you cancel their movements by jumping.
You assumed that your schoolmate probably wants you to experience it by yourself which is nice but a head up would be great too.
"Gacha game? more like a horror game." you snicker as you continue to play on your phone.
As time goes on, Aether's 'behavior' becomes worse. From making a lot of negative responses to you controlling him, now he even tries to defy your control over him by doing the opposite of what you want from him from time to time.
"Aether, you little shit! Stop swimming in a circle and go back to the shore repeatedly!" you shook your phone like crazy, and there was a small smile curled on Aether's face making your anger flame harder.
"T-this game is shit!"
While anger consumes you, you log out from the game.
You sigh leaning back to your gaming chair as you spin around on it before standing up, moving to your door, and walking down the stairs to grab some water.
because of this problem is the reason why you are slowly about to snap and quit this game.
You arrive at the kitchen, open the fridge, grab a small bottle of water, and quickly drink it up.
While doing so, you heard a rapid clicking on a keyboard coming from your sibling's room. A curious look on your face before you slowly walk to their and casually open the door by the knob.
There you see, your sibling screams while her finger moves steadily on the keyboard before slapping her hand on her table in frustration once she loses.
"GODDAMN IT!" Your sibling shouted, it looked like she had died fighting in the Spiral Abyss, no wonder.
"Calm down," you shook your head, walking inside to stand by your sibling. "You will wake Mom up from her sleep at this rate."
They turns to you, "Oh, you, sorry," she slowly calms herself down and sighs.
"This level just gets my shit up to a hundred, who told Hoyoverse that this is fine, all I wanted was the Primogem." They grumbles.
You softly rub her back with a small smile, "It's still many days left until the limited banner is gone, I am sure you will get em."
They put down their headphones, "Talk about it, what AR are you now?"
"Well, it's, I think...AR 23 or more..." You thought absentmindedly.
"That's quick," your sibling mused, "How is your experience so far as a beginner?"
"Well it's fun, I love the world-building, the colour, the gameplay, and the Ui..." You trailed, listing what you liked about the game until an irritated look appeared on your face that made your sibling perk at it. "Except for Aether!"
Your sibling flinched at your outburst before she raised a confused eyebrow at you, "Aether? The traveler?"
"Yes!" You grip your hand into a fist while seething in anger. "I don't know why they implanted such a feature, Like every time I try to play, he gotta need to defy my game control, it's creepy! He used to follow me but now he keeps making ugly faces at me like excuse me!"
"I really, really hate him!"
You keep rambling about your frustration with the traveler which leaves your sibling gaping.
"I don't think they have that..." Your sibling uttered out.
"Well, I did! And it needs to stop!"
"Do you contact Hoyo Customer Service? Is it probably a bug?" Your sibling suggested.
"I did but they never replied." You said crossing your arms.
"They probably will get back to you, one of these days since I am sure they have many people to attend to." Your sibling reassured.
"I hope so,"
Your sibling then chuckles, "But I don't think you would hate him for so long."
You frown with an eyebrow raised, "Why so?"
"They're gonna be a certain quest when you reach AR 28 or above which gives more lore about him." She elaborates.
"I don't think I would." You squint your eyes.
"Well the fact you still using the Traveler despite the bug he has, say so." She snickers, "Just give him a chance, hate the bug instead of him."
You scratch your cheeks and sigh, "We will see."
You decided to give the game, a second chance.
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"Aether, don't you think...you being too mean to the Creator?" She whispered scratching her cheeks floating, looking down on Aether crouching down inside the bushes.
They currently watching over a couple of boars walking with Aether having his sword in his grip.
Aether glances at Paimon before smiling, "Well, it's not that bad, it's a small price for them to control my body." He turns his attention back to the boars.
Paimon deadpanned, "What a lie! You just did that so they left early!"
He doesn't respond and just quickly dashes out from the bushes and thrusts his sword onto one of the boar, quickly he pulls back the other sword and slashes the boar sprinting toward him.
Quickly he used his Anemo ability to pull back the almost-escaping boars and slashed them in one go.
Blood splatter on his face, outfit, hair and his swords.
"Ah," he wiped the blood on his cheeks with his thumbs, "I need to get better at dodging the blood-splattered," He said out loud.
Aether suddenly flinched and turned his body to see another boar is running up to him.
"Hi-ya!" Paimon shouted, hitting the boars with a rock on the forehead. "Don't you dare to attack Aether!"
Aether blinked and smiled, "Thanks for the help, Paimon."
Paimon perks up and throws away the rock somewhere else, "Hehe, you're welcome~ praise me more~" she giggles happily.
"Now calm down," Aether chuckled.
Aether then gets to work after cleaning himself with a towel to cut the boar meat, one by one.
After that was done, Aether decided to sit down to open his notebook, and start writing some alphabet and spelling again.
Paimon sits down beside the Traveler, watching the letter he wrote with knowing looks.
"Is that the Creator's language?" She asked, quietly after watching her surrounding.
Aether nodded, "Yeah, I managed to decipher some of it."
"Oh! What is it? Let me see!" Paikon excitedly asked and leaned over to look at it.
Paimon curiosity slowly turned into a horrified look, "Did the Creator say that?"
"Yeah," Aether said amused at Paimon's reaction, "surprising huh?"
"There is a lot of cursing! Outrageous mean word!" She blinks rapidly, "The Creator has very interesting wording..."
"Most of the curse directed at me, I am not surprised." He smirked.
Paimon looks at Aether's face still has a smile and a fond look on his face. "You like them?"
Aether stops writing, "Huh?" He turns to Paimon.
"The Creator! Do you finally like them?" She excitedly asked.
"No!" Aether quickly stood up and took a step back, "Ain't no way! I just tolerate the Creator better than before!"
Aether is very obviously in denial with his cheeks adorned with pink blush, averting his eyes.
It's very true that Aether slowly but surely started to understand the creator, whether their language and their intention choosing him as a vessel.
The first word he managed to decipher is 'love' from the Creator's language, it's when Aether has fallen from the Statue Of Seven that the Creator for some reason controlled him to do so.
He had a fatal injury caused by that, and while he was whimpering in pain, he heard the Creator change of tone.
Aether's eyes widened, and he looked up at the sky, the creator rambled a lot but he could hear the concern and care for him which gave him goosebumps
"...Aether!$%-#&#!"
Aether perks up again when he hears his name between the rambling and his eyes widen more.
"...Aether&%$%...love#%#&#-!"
His lips parted when he understood the word, Aether's cheeks burned red and his eyes turned hazy.
He doesn't realize what happening to him but Aether for sure has stopped functioning at this time.
Aether shook his head from his flashback and continued to scribble some more. His ear is red as his scribbling becomes faster but much to his chagrin, the scene keeps playing in his head.
Paimon, who watching at his side had a small smile adorning her face. 'Aether surely has grown to like the Creator and that's good.
Both of them will stuck together until they reach their intended goal, they are both important to me, so please help each other."
Paimon hands intertwined. together to prayer, eyes closed with her forehead leaning to her clasped hands.
Until it's snapped open, Paimon turned her head with a frown. 'Who?'
She scanned the surroundings when she sensed something wrong again. 'Behind that tree." Paimon narrows her eyes.
She was about to move and check it out but suddenly Aether stood up which gained Paimon attention back to him.
"Aether? Why are you standing?" She called moving to him, "Where are we going?"
She tilted her head when Aether didn't answer her which was odd until she moved in front of him.
There she sees Aether standing still with his eye twitching in irritation. 'Ah, the Creator is back.'
Paimon smiles sympathetically at Aether.
Aether's body then quickly moved in a sprint which made Aether's eyes wide with Paimon followed in tow.
As they move away, neither Aether nor Paimon didn't realizes that someone is watching them from afar behind a tree, the arrow they grip in their hands is put away.
The unknown eye glints with mysterious light, "The Creator..." They breathe.
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You are lying down on the bed, empty and in pain.
There are tears stained under your eyes, your eyes are red from crying so hard for a long time. Akin to a person on the brink of death gate and barely gripping onto life.
"i can't believe it." you hiccup, "Lumine, why are you doing this?! Reunite with your brother, come on!" you shout in frustration, kicking your feet into the air.
You just recently finish the 'We will be reunited' quest and it broke you down from the inside hard. You are mad at Lumine but at the same you try to understand her but what actually fueled to your anger against her is Aether.
After the quest, Aether's face have trail of tears and hurt plastered that you didn't have a heart to do anything that often making you in verge of crying. Often you have started to not using Aether, in hope his expression will be better but it just become worse and you even begun to miss his smirk from before.
Everytime you try your best to help the boy even though it's probably a waste of time. After using him back again for daily mission, his face become focus like he try to pull his mind away from the events. It's like he try to move on, his expression look so real which should not be possible since Aether is a character game.
"I can't seem to leave him alone," You rub your eyes and slowly calming yourself down. Getting up from the bed you reach for your phone and open your messaging app.
After a back and forth messaging with your sibling and friend, you finally come to conclusion of what to do now.
You get back with soda and snack by your side as you open up Genshin Impact in your phone with a determined face.
"I can't believe that I am doing this for a game character that I hate..." you mutter as you sigh before focusing to the screen again.
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"My money..."
"OUR MONEY!" Paimon scream, "Why are the Creator even use it to but a freaking expensive firework!!" she whined into her hand.
"We could use it to buy more Sticky Honey Roast!" She cried out, step onto the ground pr air repeatly.
Aether just sigh, "Well we can't do anything about it," he keep jogging forward to somewhere that even he doesn't know with the Creator controlling him. "We will gain it back in no time, so don't worry so much Paimon."
"Okay... but where are we even going?"
Aether narrow his eye as he climb up the boulder, "Hm...I don't know but this place seem familiar."
The more they walk and climb, the more familiar the surrounding area looks, Aether is now crouching down to set down the firework under a cliff before his body starts to sprint up up to the cliff where from there, he could see Mondstadt.
"Are the creators trying to light fireworks in the morning?" Paimon wonders out loud, "What the point? It's not even night!"
But then a miracle happened, the day quickly went back to nighttime time and both Aether and Paimon's eyes widened at the sight.
The sky that once had a sun on its landscape now has a moon and star decorating It.
At the right time, the fireworks shoot up into the air and burst into many colour.
"Wow...." Aether breathed out in awe.
"Aether..."
Aether suddenly glances at the sky when he hears the Creator speak his name. Each word the Creator utters makes his heart skip a beat, flushing red and his eye sparkling.
"....With this, I hope you will cheer up a little bit."
A trail of tears goes down his cheeks as the Creator's words end. He can't understand some of it but the way his heart thumping, he just knows for sure that.
Aether has fallen in forbidden love with the...
Creator.
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Note
i can't stop thinking about Hawks getting pissed during an interview where another pro hero makes a remark about how Hawks pretty little sidekick could do so much better at their agency,,, and he has to sit there and play nice but once it's over hes allllllllllll over her,,,,, yea <3
I was at a con when I got this request and it got me giggling out loud and shit.
This took so long to write because I had writer's block, but I hope you like it <3
Warnings: the tiniest bit of spice, basically just enhanced making out, I tried to make this one a bit more fluffy, language, a random oc because I couldn't really think of any other pro-heroes within the age range who were assholes
Word Count: 2.5k
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"And now for our next set of guests, I would firstly like to introduce the primary reason that half of our female viewers tuned in tonight."
The live audience erupted into applause as the pro made his way onto the stage, waving a hand before running it through perfectly-styled golden bangs.
The host, a middle-aged man with strikingly purple hair met him halfway. "Hawks, how are you doing tonight?"
"I'm doing great." He smiled, perfectly aware of how easily that grin could melt hearts. "Happy to be here."
"We're happy to have you!" The host reflected his expression, flashing a set of teeth that were so flawlessly white it was almost unnerving. "And next up, we have another hero slowly climbing up the ranks, the Hound Hero, K-Nine!"
Another man hopped on to the stage, earning another round of cheers from the crowd in front of him.
Umber hair had been wrapped into an unkempt bun, matching the deep shade of his eyes. He could be considered pretty attractive, Hawks supposed, if you could look past the ears poking past the up-do.
Although he didn't know the hero's legal name, nor did he care enough to look it up beforehand, he was ninety perfect positive that it started with the letter 'K.'
Cheesy, but he wouldn't judge. He'd been known to appreciate a good pun.
What he didn't appreciate was that fact that he PR rep had dragged him to another interview on his supposed day off.
Still, he was better than most at keeping up appearances, flashing that heart-stopping grin and throwing in a clever comment when the time called for it.
The host asked the usual questions, the similarities to K-Nine and himself, even though he was sure that those ended at their shared animal-based quirks and the fact that they were both in their mid twenties. Regardless, anyone with eyes would see that the two could barely be considered to be on the same level, something that brought an air of dullness to the interview.
As usual, the winged pro found it difficult to pay attention, leg bouncing in anticipation of how long he would be stuck here. That was one of the less-apparent downsides of being someone who prominently valued speed; sitting through such monotonous situations was quite the feat.
Instead, he droned out the voices as the men across from him started to discuss the importance of sidekicks.
And that's when he heard your name.
He perked up, immediately recognizing that K-Nine was staring in his direction, wolfish grin only accentuated by the sharpened canines poking out from under his lips. "I gotta say, I'm jealous."
Hawks cocked an eyebrow. "Jealous?"
Nodding, the brunet allowed the surface-level authenticity to settle for a moment. "Someone as cute as that? I don't know how anyone there manages to get work done."
It was almost unnoticeable, practically unseen over the televised pixels many were watching through. Regardless, the slight tense of his wings in pure irritation was undeniable.
So, that's what this was about.
Forcing a smile, he replied. "Considering our criminal apprehension rates, I think you'd be surprised."
K-Nine leaned back into his chair, haughty expression flickering between the good-hearted playfulness he was supposed to be exuding. "All I'm saying is a pretty little thing like that could do a lot better at my agency."
Golden eyes narrowed slightly as the connotation, fingers digging into the plush sofa as he used every bit of mental strength to will the spite from his tone. "As far as I know, all of my sidekicks are perfect content to work with me. Just like I'm sure yours are happy to work with you. Not sure how they handle all the fleas, though."
The cluster of people in front of him busted into laughter, and he joined, but the sound seemed to be laced with a soft malice if you managed to listen hard enough.
Playing nice for the public was one of his strong suits, and considering his resilience in a long-term business relationship with Endeavor, he could rightfully say that he was able to handle difficult personalities.
All that tolerance seemed to fly out the window when it came to you.
And the hero across from him either had the social recognition skills of a goldfish, or was too dumb to care.
Regardless, K-Nine turned to the audience. "Come on, I've got a chance, right?"
Some man in the crowd let out a whistle and Hawks felt a compelling urge to hurl a shoe at his nose.
"Speaking of romance," the host verbally silenced the room, making Hawks more grateful than he thought momentarily possible, "I've got to ask, anyone special worthy of a mention?"
Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief, the inquiry signaling the closure of the interview, which had seemingly gone on for a few decades at the very least.
It was always like this, the same question would be asked, and then he'd give the same bullshit-answer about the love from his fans being more than enough.
Fuck, how great would it be if he threw your name into the mix.
That'd shut that arrogant mutt up real quick, that's for sure.
But he'd keep his mouth shut, if not for his own benefit, but for yours.
With your take-down rate, it was blatantly how talented you were as a hero and, even if it wouldn't be many, Hawks would be damned if anyone questioned your acceptance into his agency.
In all honesty, he had initially recognized your power and intelligence, traits that had gotten you the job in the first place.
It was in those first few months that he had begun to realize how much he liked you, how much he liked to watch you kick ass, or how pretty you were, even if it was preposterously early in the morning.
So he'd stay quiet, if only to keep a few impudent naysayers off your back.
Not to mention that you might wring his neck.
Instead, Hawks sat simmering with annoyance on that plush sofa until the cameras were cut and he was forced to shake hands, first with the host, then with his fellow interviewee for the night, the latter receiving the tiniest bit more squeeze.
The night was cold but he opted to fly back to his agency, allowing the chill tangle through his hair and hopefully disperse some of the vexation he desperately needed eradicated.
Besides, driving would mean lesser access to his office skylight, which also meant a long-ass elevator ride that he didn't have time for.
It was unlocked, thankfully, and he slipped into the room. He moved to shrug off his jacket, but paused, double taking at the light blooming under the thin fracture between his door and the marble flooring.
Obviously, he wasn't scared. Anybody would have to be pretty idiotic to attempt robbing a place belonging to the number 2 hero, and even more so to leave a light on.
Regardless, he stayed quiet, hoping to avoid an unnecessary interaction with a coworker he didn't have the patience for, and crept around the corner, expression softening a bit at what he saw.
It was you.
You were huddled over your desk, typing furiously at some important looking document. The computer screen illuminated your features, casting a dull glow over the otherwise unlit room.
Hawks recognized the soft tense of your eyebrows every few seconds, the way that you would pause to collect your thoughts because issuing that recognizable click-clack of your keyboard in focused chunks of writing.
He leaned back on the wall, arms crossed as he watched you work with a fond grin gracing his features.
After a while, you sighed, taking a moment to rotate the stiffness beginning to take place in your neck. Your gaze lazily flit over the room and you jumped. "Fuck!"
"Wow, that took you forever, sweetheart," he sighed, tilting his head in a teasing inquiry. "Do we need to work on awareness skills with the other sidekicks?"
"If you're gonna keep lurking behind corners like the boogeyman, then probably." You rolled your eyes, allowing his petname to settle in your mind. "And I thought I told you not to call me that during work."
"Why? Because you get all blushy and embarrassed?" He pushed off the wall, strolling over and nestling his head on your left shoulder.
You tensed a bit as he arms snaked over that of the chair, hands wrapping around your torso. "I don't."
The hero laughed, pulling at your cheeks like he could feel the heat creeping into him. "Work hours are over anyway. Which means that you should be here."
"I need to finish this report." You nodded to the screen as if to prove your point, eyes narrowing as he continued to bury his face into your neck. "Are you okay?"
He paused, eyebrows furrowing as he backed away. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You get extra clingy when you're upset. Did something happen at the interview?"
So, you hadn't seen it.
"How dare you," the faux-hurt lacing his tone was a stark contrast to the satisfaction he felt knowing that you were close enough to recognize some of his physical tellers. Still, you didn't need to know that. "I do wonderful in interviews."
You smiled and he felt his heart melt. "Well, I'm just going to have to check and make sure."
Saving the work on your current tab, you moved your mouse to open up a new one before finding YouTube, which would most likely already have clips of the program uploaded. You were barely hovering over the search bar when the man all but threw himself on to your lap, arms latching themselves around your waist. "Don't. There were so many annoying people there."
"I thought you had an avian quirk," you groaned, arms straining as you tried to detach his. "If you had boa constrictor powers then I would've liked to know."
He glanced up, eyes wide and oddly reminiscent of a child waking up his parents in the middle of the night. "I'll let you stay and work overtime if you let me hang out here for a while. It's been a very long day."
"Oh, I'm sure it has." You rolled your eyes, sighing in exasperation.
Despite the sarcasm, you succumbed to his request, letting go of his annoyingly firm grasp in favor of continuing to finish your report. Hawks found himself relaxing into your thighs, overly hyper brain surprisingly calmed with the muted tapping of your keyboard.
After a few more minutes, you shifted, pushing his unsuspecting form onto the floor and giving a laugh at the pout overcoming his face. "Bathroom. I'll be two minutes, at the very most."
It was, in fact, just past one-hundred and twenty seconds by the time you returned. The hero was currently taking up occupancy in your swivel chair, oblivious to the confusion at which you glaring at your phone with.
"Do you somebody named Kano Kirisaki?" You asked.
"Who?" He asked without looking up.
"The Hound Hero. He's somewhere in the late sixties on the charts, I think?" Despite your career as a pro-sidekick, you weren't exactly overly concerned with the rankings.
"Oh," he replied, ignoring the urge to add a 'called it.' A tic of annoyance threatened to emerge on his forehead, but he did his best to ignore it. "What about him?"
"I just got a text. The guy said that you gave him my number. Is that true?"
That made him pause.
"He said what?" The vexation simmering in his copper gaze was downright terrifying, only extenuated by the slow upturn of his chin as his eyes met yours.
"Apparently not." You made a beeline for the door, device still in hand and fingers typing away. "I'll just let him know that-"
Something whizzed past your face and you came to an abrupt halt, feeling the breath of air over your cheek as the object whirled by and just barely missed you.
You blinked, taking a moment to recognize what had just happened. You hadn't been hit, but the object previously in your hand?
Less lucky.
Spinning around in shock, you were met with the stupefied face of Hawks, who was currently staring in horror at the item stuck in the wall and the feather protruding out of it.
He just skewered your phone.
You turned again, silently walking over and yanking the hardened plume out before inspecting the damage. The screen had been shattered, the back cameras also blown to bits from the harsh impact.
"Oh, fuck." The hero stood, movements quick and panicked as he ran over to you. "Oh, shit. I am so sorry."
"What the fuck?" The sentence was less of an aggressive statement, more of an actual, bewildered question. Seeing as how completely flabbergasted you were, it was almost hard to be genuinely angry for the first few seconds.
"I swear, I don't know why I did that," he assured, running a hand through his hair in alarm. "But I'll get you a new one. That model was kinda old anyways."
You scoffed. "Oh, thank goodness. I was hoping to get a replacement. How wonderful that you happened to impale this one."
His arm caught yours as you turned to leave, forcing your line of sight to meet his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
Against your best efforts, you felt your chest lighten a bit at the tenderness he was regarding you with. It was almost impossible to stay cold when the guy you had been admiring for weeks was looking at you like that. "I just don't... I just need you to know that you can be honest with me. I don't know what's wrong, but if there's anythi-"
Your eyes shot open as his mouth smashed against yours, taking a pause before fluttering to a close.
One of his hands curled into your hair, the other finding its way around your waist. His kiss traveled over your jaw, trailing until it was above your collarbone.
With his enhanced senses, it was easy to tell what areas you were most sensitive. He relished in every pleasured breath, the way your heart rate would speed up when he bit down ever so gently.
It took a tangible amount of self-control to keep himself from jumping you when the smallest whine fell from your lips. Instead, he lifted his leg in between your thighs, watching your form falter as a spark of warmth shot through your abdomen.
You around an arm across his shoulder, an attempt to steady yourself as you watched him pull away, arrogant grin gracing his features and eyes glowing softly. Their soft luminescence was nothing less than beautiful and you silently questioned why you hadn't scheduled more late night patrols. His fingers grazed underneath your shirt, tickled the skin of your waist with their gentle warmth.
The breath had escaped your lungs, but it was nearly impossible to keep the smile from your features. "What the fuck happened in that interview?"
Hawks chuckled, touch brushing over the small mark on your collarbone that he had left behind. His heart jumped at the thought of leaving more, leaving zero questions about who you belonged to. "Nothing that you need to worry about, sweetheart."
It was less than a day by the time you got your new phone.
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willowser · 6 months
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you had only to look at me—
part one.
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bakugou x f!reader
wc: 7.4k+
tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.
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even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.
this is a repost.
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you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.
he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.
the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.
it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.
and it's — fucking annoying.
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at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.
and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.
you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:
i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️
it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?
if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.
you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot
unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.
three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.
except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.
and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.
his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.
three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.
none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.
because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."
suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.
there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.
"what?"
he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.
in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."
a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.
"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"
you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.
you shrug. "didn't feel like it."
he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"
"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"
his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."
now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"
he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.
the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.
alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.
that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.
your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.
does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.
"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."
"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"
he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.
bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.
you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.
his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.
"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.
you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.
standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.
"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."
it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.
bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."
"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.
detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"
your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"
"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"
"you're saying there's no one else that can—"
"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"
things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.
"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."
bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.
you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.
it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?
is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?
this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?
how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.
what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.
furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.
but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.
the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?
it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.
clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.
"since when are they talking again?"
just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.
"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."
bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 
"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"
"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"
his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."
"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"
bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"
"you're watching it right now."
"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”
you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”
“so? got a hot date or what?”
he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 
finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.
it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”
silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”
“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”
“so why didn’t you?”
“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”
“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”
the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.
“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”
“jesus, if i always do this—”
“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.
he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."
"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"
it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.
"you're gonna blow my head off!"
"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"
"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.
"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.
"yeah, well—"
"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.
all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.
you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.
bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.
your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.
fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.
he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.
it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.
only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.
you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.
the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.
katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"
being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —
"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"
and then you are kissing your best friend.
the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.
katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.
it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.
with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.
you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.
it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.
in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —
not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.
"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."
his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.
he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"
"have you?"
he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."
you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"
before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.
he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.
"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."
the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."
you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.
or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.
"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"
the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.
it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."
for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.
determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.
heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.
this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.
"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."
to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.
at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.
he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.
discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?
"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.
deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.
it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.
"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.
katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.
he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.
this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —
"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.
everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.
tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.
"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"
"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."
he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.
"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."
and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.
you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.
it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.
then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.
the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"
and you're annoyed all over again.
"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."
"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"
"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."
"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."
"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"
and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.
when he was losing you, you realize.
"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."
"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"
you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.
"you can't—"
"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."
you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.
there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.
the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."
tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —
he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.
"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.
not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.
the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.
when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.
you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 
"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."
"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."
"sorry i'm late."
"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.
you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.
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