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tarjapearce · 9 months

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Tentateur

Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!fem Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SMUT at the end, bit of angst, fluff, adult situations. Cheating, divorce.

Requested here

Summary: Miguel can't stand watching you being neglected by your husband.

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If there was something Miguel hated, was life being too generous upon those that didn't deserve it, not even the slightest. Meaning, a dickhead for a coworker and sadly, your husband.

How could such a guy like him ended up with a sweetheart like you was beyond him, The man was apathetic, little to no charm, rude and an absolute bastard.

"She's uh, my wife." He had said flatly. Your name felt like sandpaper on his tongue as it rolled out of it while introducing you to the rest at a small party at Alchemax.

Miguel had noticed the little stab of hurt crossing your angelic face. He wanted to punch him straight in the face, even some of the other couples had noticed the small tension. But you just stood there, trying to give your best smile. The golden band around your finger and the loving stare your eyes casted on your husband was a clear 'Don't even try it' for him.

But for once, Miguel didn't care.

----

He didn't exactly know how the crush on you had started. At first he thought that was just him feeling lonely and that his eyes wandered too much. But when you visited, lunch bag in hand, looking for your husband only to give him a bedazzling smile upon seeing him, and he receiving you with a tight-lipped smile, made his heart to break a little more.

"Hey" You were about to kiss him but he just backed away.

"I'm working."

"Alright, alright. See you later?"

He just gave a quick nod and put the lunchbox on his desk. There wasn't love in his goodbye kiss, Miguel noted. Once you were out, he rummaged through its contents while rolling his eyes.

He looked around and spotted Miguel with a mug on his hand.

"Hey, pal." He called and offered him.

"Want some?" Miguel seized him from head to toes but just nodded. It felt the only way that he could have a bit of you at the moment.

"Take whatever you like. Wife always goes overboard with food." Miguel took the small dessert container. It tasted divine. It only matched your own sweetness.

Lucky Bastard.

Oh he was. His eyebrows pressed together as he kept giving away all the food you had so dotingly prepared him.

----

"Can we talk about this later? You can't just keep visiting me every time you feel so"

"But you keep forgetting lunch at home, can't leave you like-"

"It's fine really, we have vending machines here." Your husband grumbled, but you couldn't help but hold the lunchbox tightly against your arms.

"I see. Sorry." You gave him a small smile, "See you later?"

"Im busy today. Might get a couple hours late. Don't wait for me."

You just nodded as Miguel jaw tensed.

How dared he?

You left.

-----

You had bumped into him at the supermarket on a weekend. Your cart was full of food, food that would end up in his hands and the rest of the team but never in your husband's mouth.

"Miguel, right?"

He nodded as he pulled some items for himself in his basket.

"Thanks for helping me." you smiled, his heart thumped harder.

"Where is..." He cleared his throat and you looked up at him.

"My husband? Oh, he said he had an extra shift today. Working in Alchemax surely is hard, I mean, I try to make it less... bad for him."

Miguel's mind was sneering, not at you but at the fake pretense of a hard working man the son of a bitch had put up with you. He knew the truth, he knew your husband only went there, did things wrong and half assed, and lately he had been flirting shamelessly with a lab technician from the upper floor.

His hatred for the man only grew, just as his admiration for you. What truly made you marry someone like him? That's the biggest question he had so far.

"I'm kind of nervous, today's our anniversary. I wanna surprise him with something" Your cheeks tinted red.

God you were killing him. He wanted to grab you gently by your shoulders, and say 'I can be better' cause of course he could, he was. You'd never have to settle for less with him.

'I appreciate you' cause he did, unlike the fool you had married. 'You'd never have to beg me' because in truth, he was already at your feet.

But you weren't his. Not yet.

-----

Sighing, Miguel put the lab test equipment away, then headed for the main office to get a couple more samples of a liquid he tried, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.

Legs wrapped around a man's waist, as his pants were down at his ankles. The woman shrieked once she noticed Miguel standing there with a frown and disgusted face. Miguel’s anger froze when the man next to her turned to be none but your husband.

The man recoiled to himself upon Miguel glaring holes his way.

----

His shoulder was poked by none other that the cheating pig.

"Uh, hey. Can we.... Can you, I mean-"

He stumbled on his words, Miguel towered over him, his eyes belittling him. He was bold.

"You saw nothing, yeah?"

And oh so phony. Disgusting.

Miguel just went back to his work.

It was the last straw.

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To his surprise you were sitting on a café, puffy and tear crusted eyes staring into nothingness, a phone on your hands. You knew.

He didn't know whether to approach you, or just leave you be. As much as he wanted you, he knew that coming at you in your most vulnerable state would not only make a bad impression oh him, but he didn't want to act like a vulture, looming over your broken heart for him to take.

He approached carefully.

"Hey"

"Miguel..."

"Are you okay?"

Your eyes avoided him.

"May I sit?"

You nodded with a hiccup and he offered you his handkerchief, fresh hot tears spilled in the soft fabric. His chest constricting at the sight.

"He cheated on me."

Much to your dismay, he knew. Of course, he wanted to tell you, but knowing how careless your husband acted, it was a matter of time for you to discover the cheating.

"I'm really sorry to hear that."

Shaking your head, you sniffed

"He has been doing this for months. Should've... saw this coming. I mean... I found so many pictures of a woman and... God"

He was pretty sure that he would punch the man next time he'd see him.

"He never came home to our anniversary, but even way before that. He just... I wasn't enough."

He frowned and took your hand softly.

"Stop. Cheating is a personal choice, guapa. You can't blame yourself for other's choices. He decided to do so, to trash away his marriage. It has nothing to do with you."

"Maybe if... I was-"

"No. You're... you're perfect. Puta madre, you're more than perfect. He's a lucky bastard just to have you. And... If I was him-"

He stopped his words and pursed his lips. You didn't need this. He'd have to be patient. You stared at him gently.

"I'll file for a divorce. He's barely coming home anyways and... that pretty much says on it's own that is over."

Miguel just nodded.

"Might celebrate it." You chuckled after wiping your tears.

"Can I ask you something?"

Again, you nodded.

"I know it's none of my business but, I'm just genuinely curious as to why you'd marry him?"

"Impulsiveness, I guess." you shrugged, your hand resting some inches away from his.

"He just proposed one day out of the blue, we had been dating for six months. Don't... don't look at me like that. I know it was stupid." you groaned.

"It's alright. You thought it was love." His hand inched closer, you nodded.

"We had our problems. A lot, actually. But... instead of speaking things like a fucking adult, he went on cheating."

"Mira, guapa... yo" He trailed off unsure of resisting any longer, his resolution to wait vanishing, "I know that this is a really bad time for you and-"

"Please... don't. Miguel I-"

"Just listen, ok? Please?" His hand finally took yours gently.

"I know this is the least of things you need right now, but... You have no idea how... how perfect you are. I always saw you visiting him, being loving, and he just threw all that away. He lost you. You're way too much for him."

Your body tensed upon sensing where this was going. Of course you weren't ignorant, you'd notice the glances he would give your way, the yearning in his eyes every time you kissed or acted like lovesick fool with your glacial husband.

" Let me show you, how would I treat you, if you were mine."

"Miguel, I don't want to-."

"Let me take you to dinner. If you don't like anything and I mean it, anything, I'll stop and leave you be. Just a dinner. Hell, you could ramble about him for hours and I'd just be happy for you to be there."

You sighed, it was a rather simple choice to say yes or no. There was nothing that actually tied you to your ex husband now. Just a very skewed moral code.

" Just a dinner. "

His heart fluttered and he nodded

"Just a dinner and I'll drop you home."

----

Miguel helped you out of his car, eyes drinking in your form. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel jealous of the dress you were wearing, snugging all your curves in the right spots, just a tiny thing to make your own beauty to stand out even more. Gorgeous, flawless, divine and perfect.

You gasped at the location

"Are you sure this is the place? It's quite expensive."

Your concern was endearing, he offered you his arm and guided you inside.

"You're worth it, princesa."

The place seemed like being inspired from an old movie, elegant, classic and of course fancy. Never in your life your ex husband would actually treat you to places like these. His card would explode, he said once. Other places were good, but this was in a whole new level of luxury.

Miguel held the chair for you, and you sat, he followed.

"This place is gorgeous." He chuckled and took your hand to kiss your soft knuckles.

"Just like you."

----

Time flew, the night had been to your surprise one of the best things that you have experienced. You had tasted things that didn't know existed, Miguel had fed you the dessert, pampering you to no end. The wine was delicious.

As night advanced, his little touches had turned more and more risqué, his fingers would take a taste of your exposed thigh skin, your hands would brush his, fiery and small caresses that sparked a silent yet mutual fire.

Once home you couldn't get your hands out of eachother. He had to be careful to not rip your dress to bits, he needed you. The wet kisses in your neck and his wandering hands all over your heated body the proof of it. When was the last time that someone touched you like this?

Not even him, the man that oathed to love you and be with you through thick and thin. A gentle rub on your clit by expert fingers made you forget about him. Lock his memory in a vault and you'd throw the key somewhere. Your hips would buck against his hand, rolling on waves after waves of pleasure.

"He didn't touch you?" You shook your head as your mouth gaped open.

"When was-"

"Shut up." you moaned breathlessly. An I don't know nor care.

Your body responded so well too him, be the need you tried to sate with your own hands, or the loneliness that had made you so desperate that had you squirming and soaked and he was only using his hands so far. With Miguel, things felt differently. He did things differently. And different was good. So so good.

His hunger for you shown and conveyed in every caress and touch he gave you. He was gentle enough for his desire to permeate your skin. You didn't feel alone. You felt needed. Loved even. There was no turning back once you discarded all the clothes on both ends.

----

Opposite to what you believed, your heart wasn't flooding with guilt. No.

There were no longer what ifs and what not constantly echoing in your brain. There was no longer that constricting sensation in your chest you always had. No more uncertainty. You were free.

Last night Miguel, whose arms cradled your form to be snuggled in his chest and his thigh hooked on your hip, hoarding you. As if fearful you'd go away, had made you experience a whole new concept of pleasure. Your body soared in bliss, you were glowing, He had given you climax after climax, making every single one of them more shattering and intense than the other.

That's all you wanted really. Feel at ease and blissful. Miguel had given you that and more. More than you actually ever though deserving. It was just a matter of time that you'd finally take him whole.

You wanted him. His kindness, his care, his love, his grumpyness during mornings, the way he cursed in spanish whenever he'd stub his toe in the nightstand. You wanted it all.

Of course you had filed for a divorce as soon as you could, your husband was more than happy to comply. He hadn't been home for a while, Miguel even told you that he had quitted. It was as if the universe was removing him from your life ever since you started with Miguel a couple months ago.

But none of that mattered. Not when he had plopped you down to bed, hands holding a firm grip in your sweaty and smooth skin, hips straddling yours and plowing into you from behind, prone bone position. His hips buried himself deep, hitting that spot over and over. He wasn't gentle, but that's just exactly how you liked it.

Before you could actually reach the stars he flipped you over, your thighs resting ontop of his. He sheathed once more inside. Your phone buzzed.

You growled in annoyance, Miguel sighed. A number you knew all too well. Finally you'd get the news you so needed to hear.

"Y-Yeah?" Miguel smirked as he held your thighs together and pushed in further, his tip kissing your cervix so deliciously you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. The little baby bump in your abdomen barely noticeable.

"Shit's done. Papers are signed."

There was a bit of rustling and the clinking of glass. By his tone, you knew he was getting drunk, celebrating. Miguel took the phone and put it on speaker.

"Ya know? I'm glad I did. Couldn't stand you, nagging all the time. But I'm a free man now, baby." His gulping, something you secretly hated, could be heard on the other line.

Miguel frowned and spreaded your legs once more.

"You there?" Your ex chuckled, "It's okay if you're crying, won't judge"

So so annoying.

A smirk appeared on your face as Miguel focused the camera on your body. He then turned the video call on. The man's face instantly fell upon watching you bouncing on a cock that surely put his to shame. Spine arching, breast jiggling and mouth spewing the lewdest of moans and needy whimpers he hsd ever heard from you. One tan hand secured you in place, preventing you from squirming too much.

"Sorry, pal." He grunted as he started to ram his hips in abandonment, making your toes curl. Your face and body said it all. The video image shaking at his thrust

"Just like that, bonita?" You choked a sob as he went balls in deep, nodding and begging him for him to not stop.

"She's busy." He hung up the call before the man could say anything and tossed your phone somewhere in the bed.

You felt so good, perfect for him, And now you were all his.

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tag list: @primroselovessupernatural

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 smut #t writes✨

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ceilidho · 2 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether.

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious.

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection.

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it.

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention.

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction.

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home.

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive.

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything.

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious.

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel.

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that.

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends.

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up.

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked.

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent.

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug.

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny.

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away.

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him.

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically.

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room.

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him.

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare.

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes.

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched.

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?”

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting.

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side.

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life.

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything.

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench.

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes.

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank.

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word.

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one.

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat.

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.”

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll.

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building.

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face.

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in.

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand.

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet.

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

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ghouljams · 22 days

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Goose leg locking Viking!ghost…. Ghost holding goose down and fucking her dumb…. Ghoul I’m gonna smooch ur brain

You bounce on Ghost's fat, weeping, cock. Every drag of it, the way the thick head catches against your opening, making your eyes roll back. The angle of your hips, the way he pulls you down to meet his sharp thrusts, you can barely breathe through each deep stroke. You choke on your moans, listening to the half murmured dialogue of your partner. "There you go," he tells you, "taking it so well, just-" he groans, his head tipping back against your pillows. You curl your fingers against his chest, head dropping forward as he keeps hitting something desperate and aching deep in your cunt. You can feel him pounding against your womb with perfect precision, punching the air from you as you shake and shiver on his lap.

More. You shiver, grind your hips more eagerly against him, feel him dragging you back and forth, forward and back, hitting the perfect spot every time until your vision goes white and you squeak with pleasure. More. Ghost grips your wrists and pins them back by your side, forcing you to sit back, your back arching as he fucks up into you. You think he likes seeing you like this, your tits bouncing with each thrust of his cock, and your orgasm shaking through you. His eyes are trained on you with rapt devotion. More. His brows draw together, and he groans as you tighten around him. He's quick to switch his grip again, grabbing your ass and trying to lift you off of him, off the perfect sinful cock that is going to have you coming again if he'll let you. You're quick to fight against this affront, pushing your pussy back down his length, holding you hips down firm against his.

"Sweet'art," he groans, "need ta come, you gotta let me-"

You cut him off with a roll of your hips, fluid and wanting. You press forward, bouncing in shallow strokes up and down his length, laying yourself against his chest and murmuring in his ear. "Inside, inside," you don't care how desperate you sound, it's what you want, what you need, "inside please, please Simon," he stiffens at his proper name but you push through, "want a baby, want you to breed me, please."

His hand wraps around your throat, pushes you back. You scramble to get your hands under you as Ghost flips your positions, pressing you down into the bed while his cock nestles itself against your cervix. He gives a hard deep thrust and your back arches, your hips jerking at the feeling of tight heat ricocheting through your body. "Then we gotta make sure it all stays where it's suppose to, don't we?" He asks, his voice rough, tight with something, it sounds like he's been dragged across rocks.

You cross your ankles behind his back, locking his hips against yours, making his shallow thrusts shallower. Ghost groans low, the sound rumbling through his chest. He closes his eyes, head dropping forwards as his breathing grows heavier. After a second of thought he reaches a hand between you, his thumb brushing against your clit. You jerk in his hold and he chuckles. You get a half second to draw a breath before Ghost is resting his weight on you, his stomach pressing against yours, his body holding you down and forcing your legs to follow where his hips lead.

"Can't let you squirm away," he tells you, "gotta do this right. Gods-" Ghost drags his lips against yours, your mouth open and panting, stuck trying to draw in a breath when every thrust of his hips seems to push the air out of you, "-look'it you, be so pretty fat with my son."

Daughter, you think fleetingly, it'll be a daughter. The thought, just like every other, is pushed far from your mind along with your breath as Ghost's hips snap, his cock punching your cervix before flooding your cunt with warmth. He's kind enough to keep your hips tilted up, his own locked tight against you with the help of your legs and his own stubborn determination.

He all but collapses on top of you when he'd finished emptying his full balls into you. Wraps his arms under you to hold you tight as he sinks his teeth into your neck. You yelp, feeling the sharp points of his canines just break the skin. You don't know what you expect when he pulls away but it isn't his tongue rolling over the blood starting to pool against your skin, or the gutteral, "Mine," that seems to rip from his throat.

"Get to keep you now," Ghost growls, and you can't think of anything to do but nod. You get to keep him too.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #viking!ghost #oc: goose #theyre both insane and feral but theyre feral together

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yuujispinkhair · 3 months

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You are watching Sukuna. And Sukuna is watching his brother's girlfriend... Until he is watching you.

-> This is Part 2 of this drabble

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + angst with a happy end. Word count: 4k. Angst, lots of pining, unrequited love at first, mentions of alcohol. There is no cheating. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end. Minors don't interact.

This small series was inspired by this beautiful art by @nayasch.

Also, for the best experience, I recommend listening to "Is there somewhere" by Halsey while reading this. I had it on repeat while writing. Divider @/hitobaby

It's a spilled drink that brings you closer to Sukuna.

Just a moment ago, you were holding your breath as you walked past the tattooed, pink-haired boy who makes your heart race, too shy to even look his way when you were so close to him. But then someone knocked into you, and now you are standing there like a deer in the headlights, your hands wet, your shirt ruined, staring wide-eyed at the big red stain soaking the front of your crush's white t-shirt.

You faintly hear some guy behind you apologizing. You have no idea if he is apologizing to you or to Sukuna. All you know is that Sukuna is glaring daggers at him,

"Get out of my sight before I punch your stupid face!"

And then those beautiful maroon eyes snap to you, and you forget how to breathe. You wished for Sukuna's gaze to find you, dreamed about it all the time. Hoped he would notice you, hoped that fate would hand you a chance to get closer to him. But now that it happens so unexpectedly, you don't know what to do. A muttered "S... sorry." leaves your lips.

Sukuna's gaze travels from your face down to your shirt, which is just as soaked as his. And that attractive lopsided smirk appears on his face, the one that gives you butterflies, especially now when he is standing right in front of you, close enough to touch. He shrugs,

"Wasn't your fault. I'm gonna change into a fresh shirt. What about you? Want one, too?"

You barely manage a nod before Sukuna starts walking away, and you quickly follow him to his room with your heart beating up to your throat.

He doesn't bother turning away but just pulls his soaked shirt off right in front of you, making your stomach flutter and your face heat when you see his firm abs and chest adorned with those sexy tattoos.

He laughs softly, probably seeing how flustered you are by his bare chest. But he doesn't comment on it and hands you one of his clean shirts, a white one like the one he was wearing before you spilled your drink over it.

He leaves the room after slipping into a fresh shirt, leaving you alone in his room so you can change in peace.

You sit on his bed afterward, pulse fluttering as you feel the soft fabric of Sukuna's shirt on your skin. You bring it to your nose to inhale its scent. It's fresh out of the laundry, so it mostly smells just of fabric softener, but it was in his dresser with his other things, and you can very faintly smell his cologne on it, making you close your eyes and sigh softly, overcome by a longing so bad it almost makes you choke up.

It's ironic. As if fate is taunting you. Here you are, sitting on Sukuna's bed and wearing his shirt like a girlfriend would. But he is already gone again, back to the party, where he will gaze at his brother's girl with the same longing in his eyes that fills yours, too, when you look his way.

Your hand reaches out to touch Sukuna's pillow, fingers sprawling over it, while you stare longingly at the dent where his head rests every night. What you wouldn't give to sleep in this bed with him. Feeling his strong arms around you, your body snuggled against his. Holding him, loving him, showing him that he can have all those things he longs for.

If only things were different.

It's hard to pull yourself away and leave Sukuna's room again. You feel a strange mix of emotions as you walk back to the party. Exhilaration upon getting Sukuna's shirt and being in his room, mixed with that familiar heavy feeling in your chest because you know he isn't yours, and he probably never will be.

You enter the living room and see him leaning casually against the wall in his fresh shirt, tattooed arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed enticingly, head tilted back, a bottle of vodka pressed to his lips as his eyes are once again on his brother and his girlfriend, who are dancing in the middle of the room.

You leave the party shortly after to go home and crawl into your bed, still wearing Sukuna's shirt, hugging your pillow to your chest, wishing it was him.

Is he alone in his bed, too? Does he yearn, too? Does he, too, think about the one he craves but cannot have?

The thought makes your heart throb painfully.

Another party, another evening of watching the boy you secretly love from your safe space across the room. His gaze is unsurprisingly on the girl standing next to his brother. Yuuji says something to her, and she laughs happily and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. And you see Sukuna's jaw tighten, see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps hard, see the burning jealousy and pain in his eyes.

You blink against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. His pain is almost palpable to you, but no one else seems to see it. No one seems to care enough to really look at Sukuna. They all just see Sukuna's mocking smirk and the arrogance and roughness he wears like armor. They don't see the pain in those beautiful maroon eyes. They don't see that his heart is aching.

Maybe you only recognize the signs because you feel the same way.

Maybe it is this all too familiar pain you see on his face that makes you brave tonight. And after all, you have a good excuse to walk up to him and stop in front of him, tilting your head to look up at his beautiful face, and say softly,

"Hey, Sukuna... thank you for the shirt you gave me last week. I wanted to give it back to you."

You don't really want to give it back. You have slept every night in it since last week, snuggling into it, inhaling the faint traces of Sukuna's scent, dreaming about having him in your bed, hugging him, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

But you reluctantly put it in the washing machine yesterday, folded it neatly, and put it in your bag to return it to him tonight.

You hand him the shirt, and Sukuna takes it, his large hand with the tattoos and various rings brushing over yours, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy. You know how nervous you must look when you smile a shaky smile at him,

"Thank you again. That was really nice of you."

There is surprise in his eyes as if no one ever tells him he is nice. Maybe he isn't. Or maybe people just don't see the small, nice things he does sometimes. Maybe he doesn't want them to see.

"No problem, princess."

You lie awake that night, in your own shirt this time, but with Sukuna's low, velvety voice playing over and over in your mind, calling you princess. You know it means nothing, but it still makes your heart race and a giddy smile lift your lips.

You clutch your drink tightly as you watch the boy you secretly love from across the room, just like you do every weekend. If only you weren't so shy. If only you were brave enough to walk over to him without needing a reason like giving back his shirt.

You sigh longingly as your eyes trail over Sukuna's face. Longing is what you can see on his face, too, as his gaze is on the happy couple at the other end of the room. Your chest feels so tight that it hurts.

I want to take the pain away from you, Sukuna. I wish I could be the one to make you happy.

But you are standing here, and he is standing over there with his eyes on someone else.

A sad love song starts playing and the air in the room feels suffocating all of a sudden.

Maybe you should leave.

What are you even doing at this party, where you are surrounded by so many people but feel more alone than at home, where it is only you and your bed?

What are you doing, coming here week after week just to stare at a boy you can't have? Hurting yourself when you see him looking at someone else. Drowning in desperation when you realize week after week that he is just as alone in his pain as you are and that you will probably never be able to break through his walls.

He is in pain, and you are in pain, and nothing will change about that.

Might as well leave and never come back. Stay away from those stupid parties. Find other places to go to. Maybe after some time, you will be able to forget about pink hair and black tattoos and maroon eyes.

Right when you push yourself off the wall, Sukuna turns his head. That beautiful maroon gaze lands on you, and all you can do is stare back at him.

Time seems to slow down as you and Sukuna look at each other across the room. You are sure he can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the pain in your eyes, can recognize it for what it is because he carries the same pain in his eyes.

Maybe that shared pain is what makes him slowly walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his typical teasing smirk on his lips, but the same sadness still unveiled in his eyes.

For a moment, you think he will ask you to go to his room with him to fuck. And it fills you with dread because you know you would just be a rebound. You would just be someone he uses for sex to take his mind off the girl he really wants. It would mean nothing to him. And yet, you know that you would say yes. You would go with him, would lay down in his bed, would let him take everything he needs from you until you have nothing left. And in turn, you would take anything he is willing to give you, too, even if it was just meaningless sex. Because even if he just used you to distract himself, it would still be better than nothing. Even if it were just impersonal sex, without any feelings involved from his side, you would still go with him just to feel his skin on yours.

But to your relief, the question never comes. Instead, he says in that calm, low voice,

"You look like you aren't enjoying this stupid party either. Even the pizza tastes disgusting. I'll make something myself. Wanna join me?"

You follow him as if you are in a daze. Everything around you is blurred as you walk behind Sukuna's tall figure, following him to the kitchen, your head spinning, making you feel light-headed even though you barely drank any alcohol.

You sit on the kitchen counter while he cooks. Studying his beautiful face while he is focusing on the pan in front of him. The pain in his eyes is not as burning anymore while he stirs the vegetables and adds various spices. Maybe this is why he wanted to come here. Maybe cooking distracts him enough to ease the pain at least a little.

Those maroon eyes you love so much meet yours while Sukuna tells you how tired he is of those parties all the time and those people he cannot stand in his apartment. He doesn't say what he really means, but you know. How tired his heart is of the longing, of the pain, of having to pretend like he is ok.

You tell him he is a good cook when he hands you a spoon to try, and a smile flickers over his face. A genuine smile, not the typical smirk. And it makes you fall. Makes you tumble down an abyss that you know you will never be able to get out of again. As if you needed to fall even more for him. As if you weren't already too in love with him.

You know you are lost. Lost in everything that makes Sukuna Sukuna. You thought you knew him and already fell in love with what you knew about him on a surface level. But now you have caught glimpses of the boy beneath the surface, and it makes you fall even deeper in love with him. Makes your chest hurt even more. Makes your every fiber scream with longing.

He hoists himself up on the kitchen counter next to you, handing you a plate and grabbing one for himself, too. You sit in silence, eating side by side, while the sounds of the party dimly drift to your ears through the closed door.

You praise his cooking skills some more because you are too nervous to think of anything else to say and because you like the way his lips curl in a smile again and how the pain in his eyes is almost completely gone when he turns to look at you.

He tells you where he got the recipe, how he adjusted it over several weeks, and that he enjoys cooking a lot. The way he says it doesn't sound like he is simply doing small talk, but rather as if he is letting you in on a secret. As if this is a side of Sukuna that people aren't supposed to know.

And you smile softly at him, hoping it conveys that you are grateful that he lets you share this moment with him.

His thumb brushes over the corner of your lips to scoop up some stray sauce, making your heart beat so fast you think you will black out.

When you leave an hour later, you tell him that you really enjoyed yourself,

"Thank you for letting me try your food. It tasted delicious... and I..."

You want to tell him how happy it made you to spend time with him, just the two of you in the kitchen. That you will always keep those moments in your heart like a treasure. But you are too shy to say those words out loud, and so you trail off sheepishly, smiling nervously at him and nodding awkwardly.

"Bye, Sukuna. Have a nice rest of the night."

He watches you closely with those beautiful maroon eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, saying nothing. But he holds the door open for you like a gentleman in those old movies.

You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when you lie in bed with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest for the first time after coming home after one of those parties.

You are standing in a corner, taking a sip from your drink as your gaze wanders to the tall figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tattooed face and arms, pink hair, and maroon eyes.

You are prepared to see his gaze glued to his brother's girl. You are prepared to see the familiar longing and pain on his face. But you frown when you realize Sukuna's gaze isn't staring at a fixed place but instead wandering slowly through the room, scanning it as if he is searching for something or someone, even though the object of his pining is right in front of him. And yet that gaze slips over her and continues to wander.

Until it lands on you.

It catches you so off guard that you spill your drink again. This time, only over your own shirt, but you cannot bring yourself to look at the mess. Your eyes are on Sukuna, watching wide-eyed as he walks toward you, brushing past the girl you thought he would look at without so much as sparing a glance at her.

He looks amused when he takes in the mess on your shirt. A raised eyebrow, a boyish grin lifting the corners of his lips, a long tattooed finger pointing at your chest,

"Need one of my shirts again?"

You are back in his room a few minutes later, changing into one of his clean shirts while he has his back turned to you, making your heart beat so fast that you fear he can hear it thundering in your chest.

He leans against his desk while you sit on his bed, finding it hard to breathe with how nervous you are. With how lovesick you are for him. The longing to hold him so bad that you feel dizzy from it.

And he talks to you, tells you about a new recipe he tried, about a cooking show he watched, about this and that. Like he wants to keep you here in his room. Like he wants a reason to stay here and not go out to the party again. Like you are his escape.

His shirt feels soft on your skin, his bed so tempting under you. You grab a small pillow to hug to your chest, and the butterflies flutter like crazy when you smell Sukuna's cologne wafting off it.

He jokingly asks you,

"Did you spill your drink intentionally so you could get one of my shirts again? Liked it so much, huh?"

And you chuckle and tell him,

"Well, the end justifies the means. That shirt you gave me last time was really comfy. I slept in it a whole week."

You feel your face heat up when you realize what you just admitted. But Sukuna just laughs, and those beautiful maroon eyes sparkle like two precious jewels.

He tells you to keep his shirt this time.

"So you have something to sleep in."

And your voice wavers nervously, but you still tell him:

"You are really nice, Sukuna. Do you know that?"

He scrunches his nose at that,

"That's something I've never heard anyone tell me before. Are you sure you got the right Sukuna?"

"Yeah. In my eyes, you are nice. At least when you want to. You give me your shirts, and you let me try your self-cooked meals, and you hold open doors and talk to me and... make me feel less alone on these parties."

The last part comes out in a whisper, your emotions threatening to choke you up as you are overcome by your feelings for him. Being so close to him, spending time with him, seeing him smile and joke around with you. Sharing those moments with him that seem like something special.

Sukuna's eyes widen, an emotion flickering over his face that you cannot place. Surprise, maybe, but also something else. Something much softer. He looks away for a moment, staring at his wall that is adorned with pictures of pretty landscapes and bright red shrines and an old man standing in the middle of two pink-haired boys.

When he looks at you again, there is a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before. His voice is soft when he tells you,

"You make me feel less alone, too."

Sukuna kisses you for the first time at a party two weeks later. And it is not a kiss in the middle of the party. It is not a kiss in front of his brother and his girlfriend. It is not a kiss meant for someone else. It is not a kiss to make someone jealous. It is not a kiss only for the show.

No, it is a kiss that is real. In his room, where he sits next to you on his bed. It is soft and slow. Sukuna's hand is cupping your cheek gently, his lips brushing over yours slowly as if he is scared to hurt you or hurt himself. As if he is scared that he is fucking things up. Or maybe as if he fears he doesn't deserve this.

It's a kiss that makes you fall apart and makes you whole at the same time.

You kiss him back as tenderly as he kisses you. Slow and gentle, your eyes closed, your hand landing on his neck and caressing the short stubble of his undercut. You kiss him like you are writing poetry for him with your lips against his, putting all the words you are too shy to say into this kiss, all your longing for him, all the tenderness you feel for him, all your love. And he kisses you like he is a drowning man who finally reached the saving shore.

You walk out of his room side by side. Sukuna holds your hand, tugging you along to the kitchen to cook another homemade meal he wants to share with you.

Your heart feels like bursting with happiness. No traces of pain are left in Sukuna's eyes when he hands you a plate of stir-fried rice. And that smile is lighting up his face again. He is so beautiful, and you tell him so without worrying that he will make fun of you.

He kisses you again when he walks you to the door, right there in the hallway where anyone can see, his lips lingering against yours before he pulls away as if he doesn't want to let you leave.

You smile at him and nod when he tells you to text him once you are safely home.

"I like you."

Sukuna tells you in a soft voice while you are straddling his lap, currently cleaning some food experiment gone wrong off his tattooed face with a wet kitchen towel.

Wide, terrified maroon eyes look at you as if their owner thinks he just handed you a knife for you to ram into his chest and twist in his heart. It makes your own heart throb painfully even as you feel elated to hear that your feelings are reciprocated. Seeing this rough boy so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of admitting them. Scared what you will do with that confession. Because all he knows about love is that it is painful and that it hurts and never gets returned.

You want to cry for him. For the boy who, until now, only knew meaningless sex and hopeless longing for what he thought he couldn't have. For the boy who believed that love wasn't meant for someone like him.

The first tear slips out of the corner of your left eye as Sukuna's large hands sprawl over your waist possessively, and he repeats his words despite the fear so evident in his low voice, the words nothing more than a hoarse whisper,

"I like you so fucking much."

Your hand with the towel is hovering in midair, your lips twitch, and finally, you cannot hold back anymore, and the tears spill over, running down your cheeks in hot rivulets. A broken sob falls from your lips, followed by a choked-up sounding:

"I like you too."

Sukuna closes his eyes for a moment, long black lashes fanning over his skin, a beautiful image that makes you drop the kitchen towel and cup his cheek with your hand. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the tattooed lines on his skin when those beautiful eyes open again and look deeply into yours.

He is braver than you are. Adding more to his confession. Making sure you can destroy him fully, if you like,

"Do you know what I mean? I.. I think I am in love with you."

"Sukuna..."

Your voice is thick with tears, but you continue despite the fresh tears welling up in your eyes, despite how much you are trembling in his arms,

"I... I am in love with you, too. Have been for months. Or maybe I was in love with an idea of you back then. But now I know the real you, and I fell even deeper in love with you."

You can see in his eyes that he half expected to get turned down, and it breaks your heart for him, even while happy laughter bubbles out of your trembling lips.

You cling to him when he kisses you, never wanting to let go again. Filled with the need to show him that this love won't hurt. That it won't slip through his fingers. That love can be good and safe and give him peace. That he deserves love, too, and that you are here to love him with everything you have.

It's another Saturday, and you are at Sukuna and Yuuji's apartment two hours before the party starts, helping them with the preparations. Yuuji's girlfriend is there too. You feel a bit awkward, a bit uneasy when you see her. But she smiles a genuine smile at you and greets you with a hug.

You work next to her for an hour and realize that she probably never was aware of Sukuna's feelings. She might look at Sukuna, but she doesn't truly see him. She only sees Yuuji. Her gaze is filled with love when she looks at him with an expression on her face that lets you know she has found her person.

You turn around to glance at Sukuna, a mix of fear and hope in your heart. What you see makes your chest fill with warmth. Sukuna isn't looking at Yuuji's girl. He is looking at you. Looking at you with the same expression as Yuuji's girlfriend when she looks at Yuuji. And you know that Sukuna has found his person, too.

You wake up in Sukuna's bed with his tall, firm body behind you, just like you do almost every morning now. You feel his lips against your skin, trailing gentle kisses up and down your neck. His voice is still hoarse from sleeping when he murmurs,

"Mine."

His arms tighten around you and pull you even closer to him. And you answer with a smile audible in your voice,

"All yours."

Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so broadly when you feel Sukuna's matching smile against your neck and hear his whispered:

"Just like I am all yours."

I cried so much while writing this and listening to the song and looking at the beautiful fanart and the sadness in Sukuna's eyes. This version of Sukuna is my Achilles heel. I love this broken mess of a boy so much. I want to love him so bad and make him happy :(( This story hit me so hard, and the kissing scene is one of my favorite scenes I ever wrote. I am so emotional right now, but also so happy to share it with you.

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first part of this story, wishing for a happy end. I needed a happy end too, and I am so glad I wrote this!! This story is very personal. I could relate to Reader 100%, and I got the impression that a lot of people could see themselves in her, too. So I hope you could enjoy your happy end with Sukuna, just like I did 🖤

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff

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jaybirdswriting · 9 months

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Injuries For Your Characters To Receive When You’re In The Mood For Angst (And How To Treat Them.)

A: A bite wound. (Wash the wound with soap and water, then cover the area with a bandage. Afterward your character will need medical care from a doctor to make sure that they aren’t going to get rabies or an infected bite area.)

B: A sprained wrist. (Your character should ice the area and avoid activities that cause pain. It’s also important to compress the area with bandages (But not so much that it cuts off circulation!) and keep it elevated.)

C: A stab wound to the stomach. (This is an emergency room visit because abdomens have a lot of vital organs. Just straight to the ER.)

D: A concussion. (A concussion is brain trauma so your character really should be checked out by someone at the ER. Afterward they should take it mentally easy and possibly take pills for pain.)

E: A black eye. (An ice pack on the swollen area should help.)

F: A broken ankle. (Your character will probably need to go to the Doctor to get their leg splinted. After leaving the hospital they’ll need to take it easy on their foot until it’s healed.)

More Undercut

G: A bloody nose. (Stay standing or sitting and tilt your head forward so blood doesn’t go down your throat. Then your character should pinch their nose until the bleeding stops.)

H: Being scratched. (Clean the area with water and then use antibiotic ointment on the cut. Then cover the area with a bandage and keep watch for signs of infection.)

I: A broken tooth. (Your character has a dentist visit in the cards.)

J: Getting their hair yanked. (Your character would probably be fine. It would just hurt in the moment.)

K: Accidentally biting their own lip. (Clean the area with a wash cloth and water.)

L: A migraine. (Your character should turn off the lights and lay down for a bit. Possibly take a pill made for migraines as well if your character has any. Sipping on coffee and putting an ice pack on their forehead can help as well.)

M: A broken back. (Your character will likely need a back brace for six to twelve weeks and to take it easy on physical activity.)

N: A broken finger. (The finger will need to be immobilized until it heals, and casts that go the elbow are common because they stop the hand and finger from moving. Which gives it the best chance to heal.)

O: A slash to the neck. (Your character is going straight to the emergency room.)

P: A punch to the face. (Put an ice pack on the bruised area.)

Q: A slash to the face. (Would need to be cleaned and bandaged and possibly stitched up depending on the depth of the cut. Would also bleed a ton because of the blood vessels in the face that are close to the surface of the skin.)

R: A broken rib. (There’s actually not a lot you can medically do to treat a broken rib. Instead you’d be looking at icing the painful area and doing breathing exercises so you don’t develop pneumonia. Also rest will help.)

S: Rugburn. (This can be treated with a little cold water, antibiotic ointment, and a bandage.)

T: An electric shock. (If the shock caused fainting, severe burns, confusion, difficulty breathing, or heart problems, your character would need a trip to the emergency room. If not the burns could be treated with bandages and antibiotic ointment.)

U: A dislocated shoulder. (Some gentle maneuvers might pop the shoulder back into place. If not your character will need to see a doctor. Regardless of how it’s fixed your oc should take it easy on their shoulder for a bit.)

V: Stubbing their toe. (Apply ice and if it’s bad then your character should elevate their leg.)

W: A busted ear drum. (A busted ear drum can heal on it’s own a lot of the time. It might need surgery in a severe case.)

X: A bullet wound in the shoulder. (Despite how small this injury is treated in a lot of media, this is probably going to be an emergency room visit. The bullet could either be fully removed or left inside depending on the circumstances. They could also either be sent home with an open or closed wound. Either way the wound will need to be cleaned afterward and it’s possible your character will have emotional trauma from being shot.)

Y: A split lip. (An ice pack could help.)

Z: A broken nose. (For a minor fracture that hasn’t caused a nose to become misshapen, it may be fine to not see a doctor. In that case you’ll need to ice the area and probably take pain meds. If the nose is crooked the bone might need to be manually realigned.)

#angst #angst prompts #hurt/comfort prompts #Prompts #Writing Prompts #OC Prompts #writeblr #Writing

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brainrotdotorg · 6 months

Text

here is my pitch for a mainstream movie trailer for disco elysium because i want you to suffer

Starts with complete darkness.

VO Ancient reptillian brain: “There is nothing… Only an ancient primordial blackness…”

“Radioactive” by imagine dragons starts playing

We see harry appear in this dark void, floating in slo-mo, camera slowly zooms into Harry’s face

VO Ancient Reptillian brain “Your consciousness ferments in it, no larger than a single grain of malt…”

Camera comes to rest on harry’s face, taking up the whole screen

VO Ancient Reptillian brain “No ex-wives are contained in it…”

Wham sound effect, music cuts out

Reaction shot of Harry opening his eyes. “Wait. Ex-wives?”

VO Limbic System: “Time to go to work in the shit factory!”

Sound of Kineema engine starting up that blends into the first lyric of the song

“I’m waking up to ash and dust” plays just as we see Harry open his eyes on the floor, Voice over plays as he looks around the trashed room confused

VO Harry: “Who am I? Why am I here?”

Clip of kim and harry shaking hands

Kim: “We’re detectives. We’re here to solve a murder.”

Harry: “I’m a police officer? I must be a superstar cop!”

“I’m breathing in the chemicals” inhale right as harry snorts some speed

Kim facepalms

Text in the disco elysium font on black screen:

HE’S LOOKING FOR ANSWERS

VO Joyce over a shot of the skyline: “Something is happening in this town, officer.”

VO Harry over numerous quick clips of him failing little things: kicking the mailbox, dropping the barbell, etc: “I’m an alcoholic. I’ve got a bunch of voices in my head. I don’t even know who I am! How do you expect me to solve a murder?”

VO Kim over him writing in his notebook: “I expect you to work, detective. It’s not easy; but thats the job.”

TO A MYSTERY:

Extremely fast montage of action or particularly striking moments synced up to a bunch of edited in bass thumps to the song– harry making the jump to get the coat, swinging to punch measurehead, visual calculus constructing a crime scene in glowing CGI effects, cuno shouting “fuckpig!” harry and kim dancing in the church, Harry reaching out his hand to the phasmid (who is out of frame), dolores dei turning away from the camera, culminating with kim lifting his gun in slow-mo to point at the mercenary

VO KIM: “Never fuck with Kim kitsuragi.”

Music slows and stops entirely

WHAT KIND OF COP IS HE?

Smash cut to a reaction shot of Harry looking in admiration. “How’d you get so cool, Kim?”

Reaction shot of Kim making a smug expression thats cut from a different scene.

Beat drop

THIS SUMMER IS GOING TO BE

Montage of different characters clipped saying the word “disco”

DISCO ELYSIUM

Wham shot, music cuts out. Harry leaned over a countertop about to lick the rum stain. Kim clears his throat.

Harry’s eyes dart to look up at kim. Shot of kim raising the eyebrow.

Slowly, slowly, he moves to lick the stain.

VO Electrochemistry: Aww, yeah.

Kim, sighing and shaking his head: “We’re all doomed.”

RATED PG-13

#disco elysium #this was inspired by that one mario movie post #anyway ive had this in my drafts for awhile #its time to release it

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thecreelhouse · 4 days

Text

sweet girl

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You and Steve are held captive in a bunker under Starcourt, forced to admit secrets and expose yourselves to one another to stay alive.

WC: 6k+

CW/Tags: enemies to lovers, fuck or die trope, dub/non-con (depends on how u view it), language, pet names, somno, toys, oral (f receiving), PiV (unprotected) rough sex, brief anal play, dacryphilia, spit play, cum play, degradation, humiliation, etc.

A/N: okay. fair warning. this is probably one of the dumbest things i wrote back in the height of covid’s initial quarantine (because being stuck inside for too long did a number on us all) but it exists, and i got tired of seeing it in my drafts, so hopefully some of y’all like it too lmao

Steve can’t remember how he got here.

There’s an ache, constant but distant, stretched across the features of his face, spreading across his torso and fading into the rest of his body, but he can barely feel it. Only if he focuses hard enough.

Right now, Steve would rather focus on you, instead.

You, gliding your wet core against his thigh as he tenses up his muscles every now and then, smirking at the whines you squeak out when he does. You, gripping onto Steve’s shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his skin while he just sits back and watches. You, practically glowing from the sheen of sweat across your features, sealing in the blush that’s crept across your cheeks long ago.

Steve’s definitely more interested in you right now.

His eyes rake over your body as your breasts bounce while grinding against his thigh. He drinks in the way your lips part and eyes roll back while the slick from your cunt drips down his leg.

All Steve wants right now is to touch you, but he can’t. His arms are stuck to his sides and he can’t figure out why. He wants to run his hands across your soft skin, wants to play with your tits and suck on them, wants to make you moan more and more with every teasing move… and he can’t.

A flash of the ache, sharper, closer now, blurs his vision. He winces, trying to focus back on you, back on how good you look coming undone on his thigh, but again, he can’t.

A sob ripples through you, breaking the string of moans, and Steve’s brows furrow at the noise. He goes to speak, to ask if you’re alright, but his mouth won’t open. It feels too… too heavy to open. A wave of fatigue washes over him, slowly making the rest of his body feel heavy, too.

Slowly, your whimpers transform from ones of need to ones of despair. The slight change in tone alarms Steve, and the vision of you in front of him begins to fade in and out.

He tries moving his arms, but they don’t budge. He attempts speaking again, and still, his mouth won’t open, but a closed mouth groan erupts from his chest the harder he tries.

The harder he tries, though, the more intense the pain grows for Steve. It spreads like lightning within his head, nearly blinding him.

Another sob slips past your lips, but this one teeters on the line of sounding desperate for help, or desperate for… something else.

“Steve…”

Voice still stuck in his throat, he tries his hardest still to say something, anything. A raspy groan finally pushes past his lips.

“Steve? God, I’m—“ You whimper, catching Steve’s attention as his vision continues to blur and fade out, his surroundings growing dark. “— I’m so sorry.”

The pain envelops him now, gripping Steve in a grim reminder of the reality he faced earlier, all rushing back to him so quickly.

The secret Russian base under Starcourt. Getting separated from the group as you and Steve held off the guards from chasing your friends. The guards locking you and Steve away in separate rooms. The… the screams that echoed down the hall from your room to his, and the way he threatened the guards in front of him that if they ever laid a finger on you, they’d be dead.

They responded with a couple of sucker punches, one good hook to the eye, along with roughing up the rest of Steve. That’s all he could remember before it all grew dark.

When Steve woke up, it seemed too good to be true. You’d never fuck around with him beyond his dreams. No, the two of you hated each other in reality. The summer was spent trying not to kill each other while working in the same mall. Empty threats and death glares were common whenever the two of you crossed paths.

What you didn’t know was how much Steve actually liked you. A crush he tried pushing aside that only grew by the days that passed by, turning into nights he spent waking up covered in sweat and his own arousal.

It was a dream, the good part, at least. As Steve begins to come to, he remembers everything.

So… why can he still hear your whines and whimpers? Feel the movements of you rocking your hips against his thigh?

“Steve, If you wake up… do- don’t look, okay?” You whimper as a sigh shudders through you. Curiosity tugged Steve further awake, though.

Another sigh echoes around him, and he wants to open his eyes despite your warning, but one of his eyes is swollen shut. Still, he pushes himself to open the good eye, the dim lighting of the room barely helping him adjust to his surroundings.

Steve notices the nearly empty room, first. The giant mirror takes up the one wall across from him, and in the dim lights, he squints when he notices movement above him. He first sees the blood covering him, his face swollen in agonizing pain. His gaze falls to the chair he’s in, slowly noticing restraints holding him tight to the back of the chair. Panic floods through him as his vision grows steadier, finally adjusting to the shitty lighting.

A figure is straddling him, moving against him, but he can’t feel them. Not fully. Only a second of questioning lasts before a moan tumbles from your lips, realization hitting him like a truck—

Steve spins his head back to the front, eyes falling on you while his jaw hits the floor. His heart nearly beats out of his chest as he notices you’re fully naked, skin prickling with shame and a sheen of sweat covering your body.

Steve’s eyes fall to his leg, the one you’re riding, just like in his dream. Only, he’s still in his Scoops uniform, with some kind of device strapped to his leg. One you’re furiously rubbing and bouncing against: a strap on, secured to his thigh.

You’re looking away, tears pricking at your eyes; you know how wrong this is, but you can’t silence the pleasure building within you. Curiosity tempting you, your gaze flicks back to Steve, only to see him watching you in disbelief, swollen lips parted as he began matching your panting with his own.

“Steve— I- I can explain—“

A sharp click and whiny feedback echo through the room, startling the both of you before a voice with a Russian accent follows. “I see your friend is awake, now it’s time to play.”

Steve can’t take his eyes off of you, wondering if this was what started his dream, wondering how the fuck the two of you got into a situation like this.

He watches as you shake your head urgently, clamping your eyes shut.

“I- I can’t,” You blurt out, hips slowing down. “I won’t!”

“You don’t want us to finish the job.” The voice counters. “Why did you stop? You know what will happen to you both if you stop.”

Tears slip down your face as you open your eyes, daring to look at Steve. He gives a look, almost silently pleading with you to listen to the guards.

“Whatever you have to do,” Steve whispers, hoping it’s quiet enough not to be picked up on whatever communication system they have in the room. “Do it.”

“Steve, I- I’m so sorry— ”

The voice cuts back in, booming against the walls, “NOW!”

“I want us to be safe,” Steve whispers, gulping before he bounces his leg gently, slightly thrusting the toy up into you. You squeak out reluctantly, but it did feel good, especially with Steve’s attention on you. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

It’s not okay, though. Steve is still fighting off the exhaustion of unconsciousness, still trying to get a grip on the reality before him, but is coming up short with rationalizing in any other way that doesn’t have a terrible outcome for the both of you.

You take a deep breath before rolling your hips again, your leg between Steve’s thighs softly brushing against his bulge, quickly growing hard. You glance at him, eyes narrowing.

“You like this, don’t you?” You breathe, slowly lifting your hips up on the dildo— a difficult feat with your hands bound behind your back— before gently bringing yourself back down. A groan escapes your lips as the toy reaches deep inside you.

Steve scrambles to say something, at a loss for words, before feeling your own slick drip down the dildo and onto his leg. He glances down at the mess you’re making before glancing back at you.

“You’re one to talk, sweetheart,” Steve bites back, causing your cheeks to flush a shade red deeper. “Look at- at this… mess you’re making on me.”

You whine and throw your head back, grinding your hips down as you take the entire toy within you while your clit brushes against his leg ever so gently.

“I’m supposed to be— ” A moan slips out, stealing your sentence. “I- I have to make you feel humiliated, Harrington.”

The grave situation the two of you are in is slowly falling away, when all Steve can see is you. He smirks, though it blooms pain across his face, but he powers through it.

“That so?”

“They… god… they want me to kiss you and I- I can’t-“

“Are you afraid it’ll hurt me?” Steve wonders, and you shake your head as you try rolling your eyes, but they roll back into your head as he stiffens his leg again, thrusting the toy into you again.

“I- I don’t give a shit about th- that, Harrington. That’s what they want.” You whine, glancing over at the mirror. The sight of you riding Steve’s thigh was insanely hot, but you were distracted by the guards beyond the mirror watching you. “You know I hate you.”

Steve chuckles humorlessly, “Do you? Because your cunt seems to say otherwise.”

You brush your leg against Steve’s erection, earning a groan out of him. “Seems like your cock says otherwise, too.”

Steve grunts, trying to shift in his seat, desperate to feel any friction against his length. His gaze grows soft, his good eye growing doe-like as he stares at you needily.

“Please,” Steve rasps out. “Let me help you through this. When we make it out of here, no one has to know, I promise.”

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to admit he’s joking, that it’s hilarious how pathetic you look riding a plastic cock strapped to him. He doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything to build the doubt, just waits patiently for your answer while you continue rocking yourself against him.

“Fine,” You finally agree, but as you lean closer to Steve’s face, you stop just as your foreheads touch, whispering, “Are you okay?”

Steve licks his lips as he looks at yours, nodding, “Aside from being nearly beaten to death, I’m fucking great. You?”

You blush with eyes wide, “Not the way I wanted to admit my feelings… but I guess it’ll do.”

You surge forward, lips catching Steve’s, and he whimpers into the kiss, mainly from the pain. At first, he can feel tears building in his eyes, the sting lasting longer than he expected… but he kind of likes it. A sigh shudders through him as the hurt turns him on even more.

“Looks like your friend is into pain, too.” The voice chimes in, and you bite softly on Steve’s bottom lip before tugging gently. He moans, louder this time. “Show him what you’ve got, sweet girl.”

Steve pulls away abruptly before glaring at the mirror for a moment, then back at you, trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck that, they can’t call you that. You’re mine.”

The sudden possessive demeanor catches you off guard, sending shivers up your spine. Steve slams his thigh against your core, and you cry out as the toy hits your sweet spot just right.

Before you can catch your breath, Steve thrusts the dildo into you again, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Your eyes roll back into your head and you feel dizzy from the extreme pleasure.

“Taking it so well, sweetheart.” Steve murmurs, leaning forward as best as he can to kiss your neck. You whimper as you continue bouncing on the strap, matching Steve’s thrusts.

Steve’s lips latch onto your skin, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots in the crook of your neck. You brush your leg against his rock hard bulge, and Steve whines against your skin, responding with another harsh slam into you.

“M- more… ” You weakly mumble. Steve chuckles darkly at the request.

“Wish I could do more, sweetheart.” He grumbles into your skin, dipping his mouth lower to your chest. A gasp escapes you as you feel his tongue flick out against your nipple. “You look so pretty when you’re fucked out.”

All you can manage to get out is another long, drawn out whine, desperate to be able to touch Steve, to have him ruin you in return. The grave situation you’re both in almost melts away around you from the intense pleasure, but every now and then the static over the speakers reminds you you’re not alone.

Following the thought, the door clicks open, startling you from the forced bliss you were in. You feel Steve stiffen underneath you, but still he continues to keep his pace while bouncing his leg for you.

“Hm…” A guard you haven’t seen before, one with a thicker Russian accent spoke up as he took slow, agonizing steps towards the two of you. “It seems we’ve underestimated your friend.”

The guard circles the tangled mess of you and Steve, stopping as he ends up behind you. His hands wander from your shoulders, slowly caressing your arms, and you clamp your eyes shut in disgust.

“H- hey! Hands off of them!” Steve snaps, but the guard only laughs. Steve feels anger, white hot, building within him.

The guard circles back around to Steve, and your eyes open back up cautiously. You feel yourself almost relax as his touch leaves you, but tense back up as you watch the guard lean behind Steve.

“Wh- wait- what are you doing?” You ask as you panic. The guard smirks before the sound of metal hitting the floor echoes out against the cold, empty walls.

A beat of silence follows; with a swift motion, the guard pulls a syringe out from god knows where, plunging the needle into the side of Steve’s neck, catching him by surprise.

You gasp in horror as Steve cringes and hollers in pain, feeling helpless only being able to watch. It only lasts a moment before his head lolls forward onto your chest.

“What the fuck are you doing to him?!” You rasp out, tugging at the restraints your arms were still tightly bound in. Your eyes fall to Steve’s head resting on your chest, panicking as you wonder if he’s even still alive.

He leans down to Steve’s ear, dangerously close to you, as his eyes are still locked with yours. “Don’t disappoint us.”

The guard backs up, slipping out the door, leaving you stunned and confused. Panic continued to build in your chest; all pleasure had left your body as you worried for Steve’s safety.

“What just-“ Your eyes dart from the door, then to Steve, repeating a few more times. “- What just happened? Steve? Are you okay?”

For a moment, Steve is still silent. You hold your breath, hopeful to hear his own breathing if you listen closely enough, but your heartbeat is painfully loud in your ears.

It’s only a minute, maybe even less, but it feels like an eternity passes before you hear Steve groan. You sigh in relief.

“Oh my god, Steve,” You gasp, pushing yourself forward to try and push him off your chest. “Steve, wake up. Stay with me.”

A shaky breath rattles out of Steve before he speaks up, voice barely above a whisper. “You… you want… this… right?”

You nearly choke on air, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions attached to the events unfolding in this underground base.

“What do you mean?” You dare to ask.

“I- I don’t think— I don’t know what that was, b- but I don’t feel s’good…” Steve breathes, voice wavering.

Your brows furrow at Steve’s words. “You’re not making sense, Steve. What did they give you—”

You feel the words die in your throat as large, warm hands grip your hips. Steve slowly pulls his head up, flashing a devious smirk your way that makes your heart drop into your stomach.

The restraints holding Steve back had been undone, and whatever the fuck they injected into his veins had a strong hold over him now.

With gritted teeth, Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you once more. “Tell me- tell— tell me you’re okay with this-“

“With what Steve?” You counter, still lost. “What are you— look. Just untie me, we can get out of here if we stick together.”

Gaze still fixated on you, Steve’s fingers dig into your skin, gripping you with a desire that reflects in his eyes.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Steve murmurs, licking his swollen lips as his hands wander up your body, fingers splayed out as far as they can reach. “We’re just getting started.”

Frozen stiff— from fear or desire, you weren’t quite sure— you can only watch as Steve’s touch reaches your breasts, wasting no time in kneading. You melt into his touch, groaning, and it only tugs at the ends of his smirk even more.

Steve’s lips crash against yours, this time with more desperation and passion. You hear him whimper into your mouth as his tongue parts your lips, probably from the pain he still felt. Still, he pushes past the discomfort, massaging your tongue with his slowly.

You feel the slick of arousal build back up between your legs again, dripping down the strap still inside of you. It seems both you and Steve become aware of it again at the same time, because as you remember it’s presence, he bounces his leg up against your core.

Steve’s hands grip your hips again, guiding you as you ride the toy still strapped to his leg. A loud moan escapes you while Steve watches you with a heightened hunger.

“Y’get so wet so easily,” Steve husks, groaning as you work to build the pleasure back up within you again. “I bet you’d feel so fucking good and tight.”

Your stomach flips, but you’re so exhausted at this point, you can’t find the right words to keep up your end of the dirty talk.

“Such a filthy girl, too.” Steve groans, leaning down to kiss your chest. He trails sloppy kisses across your skin before reaching a nipple, teasing with his mouth as he did before. “Fucking a toy to save our lives.”

You speed your hips up at his words, despite the ache growing in your legs, barely holding you up. If it wasn’t for Steve holding onto you, you’re sure you’d collapse onto the floor.

“And you thought they wanted you to humiliate me?” Steve laughs sharply into your skin before biting the sensitive bud in his mouth. “Look at you, being forced to ride my leg— an inanimate object on my leg, and you’ve been dripping to the fucking floor.”

“Steve…. ” you whine while panting.

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl.” Steve encourages at first, but his eyes grow dark as he grips your throat with one hand, teasing with your breath. “C’mon, use that cocky mouth you were running all summer. You had no problem telling me how much you hate me, honey. Why so quiet now?”

The combination of the exhaustion and the way Steve is talking to you begins to make you grow weak, overcome by pleasure, and you begin to drool on yourself a bit. Steve barks out a laugh, turned on and disgusted.

“Jesus, you’re filthy.” Steve said lowly, removing his hand from your throat before slapping your face. “Don’t act cock-drunk yet, you’re not even fucking the real thing.”

While panting, you manage to get out, “I… want it.”

Steve’s brows quirk up, knowing exactly what you’re talking about but he doesn’t give in so easily. His hand snakes down between the two of you, fingers immediately reaching for your soaking, wet core.

You jolt at the sensation of Steve’s fingers on your clit, rubbing in painstakingly slow circles. You buck your hips, trying to add pressure, but Steve laughs lowly and pulls his hand back, barely touching your clit.

As you whine in desperation, Steve asks, “What do you want?”

Drained, you let your head loll forward, resting against Steve’s shoulder as your hips began to slow and stutter. Your panting is shallow as you feel exhaustion begin to grip you tightly.

Steve groans, shoving his shoulder forward to try and push you off, but to no avail; your forehead still rested on him, feeling your eyes growing heavy.

Again, Steve groans, almost like he’s… fighting with himself. A few moments pass until he strains out, “... You- you can’t s-stop…”

“... Hm?” You hold onto consciousness for dear life, both metaphorically and physically speaking.

Steve tucks his face into your neck, bouncing his leg softly, fucking the toy up into you, keeping you awake as you moan weakly.

“Let— let me take over,” he murmurs into your skin before kissing it gently. The soft touch of his lips against your neck sends shivers across your body. “D- do you trust me?”

“Y- yes, Steve,” You answer honestly, though still in a daze.

“Just— ” Steve forces out through gritted teeth before his mouth opens again, tongue darting out sharply to your skin before he bites down roughly. You cry out, feeling slightly alert again. “Ha- hang on for me, okay? I’ll take care of you… just hang on, can y’do that?”

As he waited for an answer, Steve began biting your neck again, sucking on the sensitive skin and soothing over the pain tingling across with his tongue. You groaned loudly in response.

“I need to- to hear you, babe,” Steve murmurs into your skin before biting once more, harder than the last time. You cry out at the sharp sensation. “Th- they’ll hurt us if— fuck!”

Steve inhales sharply, gripping into your skin with more force. You cry out at the pain as he shakes before crying out himself.

Whatever the guard gave him, he was able to fight off for a moment, but now it was just sinking deeper into his veins, taking full control again.

It’s probably too late at this point, but you still manage to blurt out, “I- I- I want you! I want you, Steve!”

Steve chuckles darkly into your neck before slowly licking a stripe up your skin, leading to your ear, panting heavily into it. “I know you do, sweetheart.”

In a quick, swift motion, Steve pulls you off of the toy while standing up, spinning you around before forcing your front against the nearest wall. Even through the roughness, the cool, metallic surface feels welcoming against your flushed skin.

With one hand, Steve holds you firmly by the back of your neck while he undoes the clasp of the strap around his leg, letting the toy fall to the floor. He quickly pushes his shorts down as best as he can with one hand before pressing himself against your backside.

You moan sinfully as you feel him, rock hard against your ass. Steve pants heavily while reaching around to your chest, groping your tits roughly.

“Mnph… S- Steve, please—”

One of his large hands reaches down to your ass, smacking harshly, earning a sharp cry from you again.

“You’ll take what I give you,” His voice is gravelly, serious. “Understood?”

You nod quickly, both startled and aroused. “Y- yes, Steve.”

“Good girl.”

Slowly, Steve kisses down your back, down your arms still bound behind you, before kneeling as he reaches your backside. You shiver under each, sloppy, wet kiss he leaves behind as he inches further and further down.

As he reaches the swell of your ass, he begins biting into the skin, gently, then gradually with more force as moves down.

“Spread your legs, babe.” Steve murmurs as he pushes your feet apart. He grabs you by the ankles, pulling you from the wall a bit, and you hold yourself up as best as you can with your upper body still against the surface.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck this tight, sweet cunt so bad,” Steve groans into your skin, hooking his arms around your thighs, pulling your ass closer to his face. “But I wanna taste you so much more.”

A breath shudders out of you before Steve kisses your soaked folds lightly. He sucks slowly on your folds before delving his tongue between them, collecting your arousal onto his lips.

You push your ass out further, desperate to feel more of Steve’s mouth on you, and greedily responds by sucking roughly on your clit.

“Oh… oh, fuck,” Your moans begin to fill the empty space around the two of you. Steve groans into your skin, vibrations adding to the pleasure he’s creating with his tongue. “M- more… god!”

Steve pulls back, laughing at your desperation while you whine. “Jesus Christ, I knew you wanted me, but you’re such a needy fuckin’ slut.”

He falls silent for a moment before spreading your cheeks and spitting onto your tight hole. You gasp in shock, knees growing weak as you feel Steve tease a finger around your entrance.

“Y’know, I bet your mouth would feel so good around my cock…” Steve mumbles before spitting again, spreading the saliva around your skin before slowly pushing a finger into your tight ring. Your eyes roll back in your head. “It’s a better use than you running it all the fuckin’ time. God— some days I just wanted to- to push you to your knees and shove my cock down your throat to shut you up.”

At this point you feel yourself begin drooling onto your body again, and Steve notices the mess trailing down onto the wall in front of you.

“Filthy slut… such a filthy, dirty girl,” Steve groans, slowly fingering your ass. “You’re gonna cum for me before I fuck your brains out, understand?”

Before you can answer, Steve’s lips are back on your core, flicking his tongue against your clit with precision. All that tumbles out of your mouth are breathy moans.

You look down to the floor and see Steve look up at you, position switched as he’s eating you out from the front, still fingering your ass and groping your cheek with his free hand. Though you can only see his eyes, you can tell he’s smirking while watching you come undone above him.

Steve adds a second finger into your cunt while groaning at how wet you are, how easily his digit slides in. Your head spins as he continues to finger fuck both your holes while lapping away at your clit. Your legs begin to shake, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh from between your thighs.

“M’close…” You whimper, flexing your wrists as far as you could between the restraints; you wanted nothing more than to pull on Steve’s hair right now, make him moan.

“Already?” Steve asks, pulling back from your core with his chin and lips glistening. He’s flashing a fake, mocking pout up at you. The sight makes your pussy throb as he continues fingering you. “I just started playing with you, babe.”

In your desperation to reach the high you’ve been chasing this whole time, you whine out, “I- I promise, you can do as much as you want— whenever you want!”

His tongue flicks lightly across your clit, but pulls back, leaving you whining in disappointment. “Yeah? This your truce? You finally gonna admit you’ve always liked me?”

You roll your eyes and huff, “Steve, no- now’s not the time—”

“Admit it.” Steve orders, voice low before he spits onto your cunt. You groaned at the sensation of his spit rolling over your clit, adding to the wetness from your arousal. “Admit you’ve always liked me. You’ve always had the hots for me, always wanted to fuck me—”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, right, you wanted me to fuck you.” Steve teases, driving you mad at this point. His fingers begin to slow, barely fucking you. “Just say the words, sweetheart, and I’ll let you cum.”

Taking a few deep breaths and rolling your eyes, you give in.

“Fine! Fine, okay!” You yelp out, twitching when Steve sucks on your clit for a second before pulling back again. You felt like you were going to die if you didn’t finally climax.

Which… yeah, that was technically the truth down here.

“Fine? Okay? What’s fine and okay, babe?”

You huff, ready to slam your thighs together on his irritating, cocky, pretty head. For a quick second, you almost do, but you remember neither of you are making it out of this room until the both of you climax, all for the guards’ pleasure.

This is so fucked up.

“God- fucking—”You pause as Steve leans back in to spit again, and a moan tumbles out of you. “— yes, okay, I- I- like you, Steve!”

Smirking, he leans in to swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud, just enough to feel good, but not enough to reach that high.

“And?”

“And- and- and I really like you, and always have,” You begin to stutter out. Steve’s tongue continues its pace. “I’ve always thought you were— oh, god- you— I want you to fu- fuck me, Steve. Please.”

Sickeningly sweet, he responds, “Anything for you, sweet girl,” before delving into your folds again, fully focusing his attention on the spot you needed him the most.

His fingers pick up speed again, and you’re thankful he’s got a good grip on your legs, or you’re certain you’d fall over by now.

You can’t stop the noises from escaping your lips as he continues his pace on ruining your body in the best ways possible. He hums into your core; the vibrations push you closer to the edge and your eyes close in bliss.

It’s only a moment longer before you’re shaking, orgasm ripping through your body while stars explode behind your lids. Mouth falling open in a silent scream, you feel yourself really let go. You swear, you’ve never felt this good by anyone before, not even your own actions on lonely nights.

Finally, a scream leaves your body in ecstasy, and Steve’s moans nearly match yours as he watches you reach your high above him.

“Fuck... that’s so... hot.” He rasps out. You open your eyes to his words to find his face covered in the aftermath of your high.

You feel embarrassment as heat creeps along your face in shame. “Oh- oh my god�� Steve, I’m so sorry- I- I- didn’t even know I could do that-“

Steve licks his lips as they twist into a smirk up at you, pulling himself back along with his hand out of you. You whine at the loss and shiver as you watch him suck on his fingers, groaning around them.

A blush creeps across his face as he breaks through the haze of the drug again, only for a moment, but you don’t miss it.

“I- you— don’t apologize,” Steve says meekly, running a hand through his hair, also damp as well from the sweat and your climax. “That- that was my fucking dream—”

You almost laugh at how dorky he sounds, but notice how he tenses up again. His breathing becomes shallow as he winces, trying to fight it off.

“Steve,” You call out, worried. “We just have to finish and then we’re out of here, okay? You- you have to help me out here, I can’t move well with my hands still tied.”

Steve struggles at first to get to his feet, letting the substance in his body regain control again, but he manages to stand up between you and the wall. You’re more aware now than you ever have been of how he towers over you, shivering as he looks at you like you’re some sort of prey.

“You’ve been so good for me,” Steve says as he pushes a strand of hair from your face gently. His touch is soft, almost too soft for the way he’s been acting tonight. “I’ll let you pick the way you want me to fuck you.”

You gulp sharply, before responding with no hesitation, “Against the wall.”

Steve smirks, laughing lowly. “You were just against it, sweetheart.”

“I- I- yeah, I know,” You agree, blushing. Steve’s hand slowly cards through your hair before tugging, causing you to whine. “I mean like— my back against the wall. I- I wanna see you when you cum inside me, Steve.”

Steve groans and in a flash, he’s pulling you by your hair, slamming you against the wall. You gasp at the sudden movement, watching as Steve quickly pulls his clothes off before pressing himself against you.

Your heart sinks at the sight of more injuries across his body, blooming in radiant shades of purples and reds and blues. Steve slams his mouth against yours in a rough, quick kiss, pulling you from your worries of him. There’d be plenty of time later to clean up and care for each other.

He hoists you up by your legs, holding you tight as you’re balanced up against the wall. Steve looks between your bodies before spitting between them, coating his swollen cock in the makeshift lube.

“Please…” You whimper as Steve runs the head of his cock up and down your folds teasingly. He smirks at you before plunging in all at once, shuddering out a breathy moan of his own.

You heard the rumors back in school; you knew Steve was somewhat decent in bed, you just had no fucking clue he was packing the length and girth he had. Your head falls against his shoulder, biting the skin to hold back a scream as he stretches you out.

Steve’s brows furrow slightly before forcing out, “You… you… okay?”

You hum and nod in response, rasping out, “Move.”

Steve’s hips roll slowly into yours at first; you can tell he’s trying so hard to go easy on you. The real Steve would’ve wanted this first time to be slow and soft, still where he’s dominant, but caring and gentle. But, he’s not in control right now.

You, on the other hand… you’re not sure if you could say the same about your desires for the first time with Steve.

As he moves in and out of you with ease, pushing against your slick walls, you feel his cock twitch a little already.

“Whoa… you gonna cum this soon?”

Steve’s eyes turn dark as he slams into you. “Sh- shut up.”

Your stomach flips at the change back to this dominant, rough demeanor, and decide to push it further.

“Aww, is Steve gonna finish faster than I did?” You tease, and Steve’s pace picks up, slamming into you harder. You cry out, watching his expression turn frustrated.

“I said, shut up.” Steve spits, fucking you harder. Your eyes begin to roll back into your head.

“What? Can’t handle being teased, Stevie?” You continue to mock him, enjoying the way he’s reacting to it. “Don’t you like it? Don’t you— ”

Steve pulls you away from the wall and out of you before he shoves you towards the chair. As you stumble onto it, Steve unlatches the restraints, letting your hands fall to the back of the chair just in time to hold you up.

Bent over, Steve smacks your ass roughly before slamming back into you. You lurch forward and cry out again before he begins his steady, rough pace into you again.

“You’re such a fucking brat. Such a filthy, insatiable, brat.” Steve growls through gritted teeth, pounding into you relentlessly.

All you can do is continue to let your moans echo against the metallic walls in response.

Steve’s hands reach around to your face, gripping you for a moment before opening your mouth, hooking his fingers into your cheeks. You begin drooling all over yourself as he pulls at your mouth while continuing to rail you.

Again, all you can do is cry out… and make a terrible mess with your spit.

“God- fuck-“ Steve groans out, rutting into you mercilessly. “I- I’m gonna— where do you—”

“In me!” You manage to yell out around his fingers still in your mouth.

Steve’s breath hitches as he fights the drug again. “You… are you…sure?” His hands fall from your face and grip your hips tightly.

“I’ve never been so fucking sure of anything in my life,” You hurry out, gripping onto the chair while your knuckles grew white. You moan out sinfully, “Fill me up, Steve.”

Almost on command, Steve releases into you, coating your walls with his arousal while sloppily thrusting any energy he has left into you.

He feels like his high shoots him straight up to the stars. Even if it was fueled by that nasty mystery drug, it doesn’t matter to him. Not in the moment as your cunt milks out every last drop from him, just like he always dreamed of.

As you try to catch your breath, you rest your head onto your hands on top of the chair, closing your eyes as you feel him inside you. Steve slowly pulls out, groaning at the loss of you squeezing him, as you do the same at the loss of him inside you.

“Fuck… Steve….”

“I- did I just- did we just-“

You look back to see Steve, back to his doe-eyed, slightly shyer, dorkier self, blushing as he looks back at you. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or laugh this whole thing off, and you can sense the conflict in his feelings.

“Steve- it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.” You pant out as you search his face, watching the real him break through.

His eyes fall to your cunt, dripping from your mixed juices, and he groans as he palms himself before dropping to his knees. As he grips your thighs, you gasp in surprise while feeling his tongue run up your folds slowly, lapping up every last drop.

You shiver and twitch from the overstimulation, still shaky from your orgasm from earlier.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You breathe out, exhausted and in disbelief of what just happened. Steve presses a kiss to the swell of your ass before moving to his feet.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you up right before sitting you in the chair properly. He searches your face carefully, looking for any signs of distress “You okay? I’m so- god. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

You cup his face in your hands softly, giving him a weak, but sincere smile. “Fucked up… but I wouldn’t have wanted this with anyone but you. Are you okay?”

Steve kisses your forehead softly before nodding, still shaking himself. “M- might ask you to stay over later… could use some aftercare. Kinda want to check on you too. Y’know… if we make it out alive.”

A loud buzz echoes in the room, followed by a clicking noise. You and Steve turn to see the door slowly, automatically open.

“Is… are they… can we go?” You ask, and Steve’s eyes dart between you and the door before pulling you up.

“Let’s get dressed and get the fuck outta here.” Steve rushes out, pulling you behind him.

You tug his arm back, and Steve spins to quickly run into you with a soft “oof!” Reaching up to him, you press your lips against his, savoring one more kiss before leaving this horrid room, this time, soft and slow.

You mumble against his lips, “I don’t think I’ll be leaving your side anytime soon.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #my fics

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yanderenightmare · 5 months

Text

Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku

TW: NSFW, dubcon, captive darling, abuse of power, coercion, deepthroating, penetration v, threesome, degradation

fem reader

Thinking of pro-heroes Dynamight and Deku finally capturing the villain they’ve long been seeking, only to offer her a get-out-of-jail-free card if she gives them a little something in return…

You’re on your knees between them.

“Aww, now that’s a pretty sight~ ain’t it, Deku?”

“Agree, Kachan~ who’d've known the little felon could be so sweet~”

It’s but a small favor in regard to what they’re giving you in exchange. Suck their cocks, and you go free. You’ve done worse for less before. Being a criminal has never come without costs.

Still… the whole thing is so embarrassing. Mouth wide open with their leaky cockheads hugging for space inside it. They’re way too big to both have room, but they don’t seem all that concerned by it.

“C’mere,” The blonde groans, taking your head for himself – angling your plump lips back and forth on his shaft, sucking his teeth as you suckle on the fat veins found there. “That’s it, street scum- earn that freedom…”

Another weighty palm drapes your head, and you’re steered over to the other throbbing member. He nudges his tip inside your mouth and has the plush head fuck the pocket of your cheek, eerily smiling down at the sight. “Street scum is a bit harsh, isn’t it? I mean, look at that face~” He purrs, petting the abused cheek he was bulging.

Your hair is pulled in the other direction again, and you pop off the one in your mouth only to be invaded by the other again – this time deeper – and deeper again. He uses both hands to hold you down.

“Still only useful for one thing-” He growls, and you gag, spit bubbles frothing around the shaft as your throat tightens up.

When he lets go, you jerk back with a cough – both your palms splayed flat on the ground, spluttering with hiccups, spit drooping down your chin while sipping sharp breaths that burn in your lungs.

“Aw- where’d all that confidence go, hm?” His hand tangles back in your hair and angles your face up again – now riddled with pretty deep-throat tears. Lips bloated and shivering with short shuddering inhales and exhales.

“’Think the poor thing bit off a little more than she could swallow…” The other man muses, grabbing your jaw and angling you his way again, pushing his slicken cockhead passed your lips.

He drives just as deep as the former one did, aided by all four of their hands pushing you down until your nose pressed into the stiff muscles of his pelvis, buried in the ticklish green curls there – feeling his cock bend down the gorge of your throat. It does an excited jump each time you gag.

He pulls out slowly – but not all the way – looking down at you as you suck in breaths around the chub of his grith.

“We can always test ‘nother of yer’ holes if it gets too much for yah?” The blonde husks, tapping the weight of himself against your forehead, resting his balls in your hair.

“Don’t patronize her- I think a hardened criminal can handle this much...” The one taking space in your mouth says – beginning to slide himself all the way back down again, hitting your uvula like a punching bag with his balls slapping wetly against the slobber on your chin.

Your hands brace themselves against the stiff muscles on his thighs, feeling them flex through the spandex of his tight uniform. You close your eyes, squeezing them tight as he bores down your jugular again. Spluttering up spit and taking desperate breaths once you’re released.

You’re not given much time before another fist finds your hair again – though this time, your own hands come up to protect you – keeping yourself at arms-length by bracing against the oncoming hips.

“Wah-wait- break- just-” You blub, and the cock slides up your face instead, tapping its hefty weight against your cheek and temple.

“Hm, maybe you were right, Kachan. Maybe I was overestimating her…” The green-haired one mused, his voice sounding suggestive – followed by a soft scoff from the one resting his cock on your face.

“Okay then, up we go, lil’ crook-” He leaned down and grabbed you by the arm, lifting you from the floor. “Wouldn’t wanna make yah pass out, after all...”

He spun you around so your ass was pressed against his crotch, making you rest palms-first against the other man’s swole chest – standing tightly between them while the blonde behind you balled your dress up around your waist.

“No, wait- you’ll still let me go, right?” You stutter, reeling from the feel of his fat shaft, wet with your drool where it slid up between your crack while he softly humped his hips into your rear.

The one in front took your chin. “Oh- don’t worry~ let us have our fun, and we promise no prison.”

The cock is tapped on your asscheek whilst its owner places wet hot kisses up your neck. “Still up for it, hm?” He gruffs hotly at your ear, holding you steady by the hip whilst stroking himself in the other.

You bite your lips, brows doing little tremoring motions as you quickly try and mull it over in your head. Ending up with giving them a little nod.

He bites your earlobe with a rusty chuckle. “That’s a smart cookie.” Ushering you up to stand atop the other man’s shoes, making you just the right height for him to send his shaft down the cleft of your butt. Sliding it in between your thighs, rubbing himself against the puff of your cunt through the lacy silk of your panties.

He’s kind enough to get you a little warmed up first before peeling them aside and lightly slapping his manhood up against the slit. But the way you gasp is just way too cute for him to hold back – making him run his fat cockhead through your lips, back and forth to slick you up, rubbing over your clit – forcing an involuntary buck of your hips.

He hums at the movement, finding your hole and kissing it with his tip, groaning out a “Yer’ way too pretty for prison…” against your ear – playing with your entrance without pushing in just yet, giving the ill-prepped thing a warning of what to handle. “Poor doll would be everyone’s favorite lil’ jailbird.”

You croon with a whimper when he splits you open, even as he does so slowly – and the other guy takes the opportunity to catch your mouth with his.

“Wouldn’t stand a chance against the other inmates…” He moans, sliding his hand from your chin to your neck, holding it just tight enough to encourage you to keep your head up – as he slips his own thickness between the doughy fat of your inner thighs, rubbing over your clit on its way.

It makes you ache around the member bottoming out inside you. “Not to mention the guards…” He continued. “They’d all have a ball with fresh ‘n’ tight meat like you.”

You moan into the mouth in front of you, panting on his lips when he speaks. “It would be too cruel of us to send you to a place like that…”

“Despite it bein’ where all you wrongdoers belong.” The hands placed on your hips keep you planted as he pulls out and lolls forward again.

Your thighs shudder from the feel of it, squeezing the one caught between them tightly. “Poor thing would get passed around from morning to lights out.” His words pour into your mouth where it gapes open – feeling his ridges and veins catch your clit – making your lower belly coil like an adder – clawing your nails into his chest in order to pursue it.

“Tied to the bars of yer’ cell for everyone to have a go.” The one behind grunted, kneading himself into your womb – fucking you deep and slow enough to feel you flutter on his length. “We’ll be a lot nicer with yah.”

“Promise, sweet thing.” The one in front chuckles when you cum – shaking on both their cocks – weak in their hands – resting your sweet face against his chest with blank eyes glossed over from pleasure.

You’re not going to prison, but you’ll soon find out if you agree that staying locked up in their house as their personal pet is much different or better…

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boxloonaer · 2 years

Text

AAAAAAAAAAAA

holy shit shes nice now

Shrub nice arc o my

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samdeancass · 1 year

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Love Sick Puppy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Bucky, Y/N, Sam

Description: Y/N and Bucky have been dating for a while but Bucky still acts like a love sick puppy around her.

Bucky smiled goofily at you from across the table, head resting in the palm of his hands as he leaned on his elbows. His eyes were completely blown over with love; there was no talking to him when he got like this.

Sam leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. “Y/N, lover boy’s at it again.” You looked up from the book you were currently researching from, a small smile on your face. Getting up from your seat you walked around the table and stopped at the side of Bucky, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Bucky, baby. You’re doing it again.” He shook his eyes and widened his eyes, sitting up straight in his chair. Clearing his throat, he looked to the side of him and found your eyes staring back at him. “You really need to stop doing that, Buck. If nobody here knew us, they’d think you were a creepy stalker or something.”

He chuckled and brought your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on each knuckle. “I can’t help it doll, you’re just so beautiful.” “Oh please.” Bucky snapped his head towards Sam, his eyes glowering at him. “Got something to say, Wilson?”

Sam leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah, I got something to say, Barnes. You need to cut that shit out. It’s really unnerving and gross to watch.” Bucky’s hands clenched together as he fought the urge to punch Sam across the face. Noticing this, you shot Sam a warning glare and placed your hands on top of Bucky’s, instantly calming him.

“I can’t help it, Y/N. I love you so much.” Bucky looked down at his lap, clearly embarrassed. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You look at me like that all you want. Take no notice of what jerks have to say.”

Sam threw his hands up in the air. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.” He stormed out of the room, you chuckling at his reaction. “If I’d of known it was so easy to rile him up, I would have done it ages ago.” Bucky laughed and lifted his hand to your cheek, splaying his fingers out. “I can’t explain why I act the way I do but I do know that I love you with every single part of me, Y/N.”

You slid into his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You don’t ever need to explain yourself to me, Buck. I love that you love to look at me like that. It makes me feel special. It makes me feel so happy that after all this time and all that’s happened, you were still able to find love, to find me. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

He smiled widely, leaning in slowly before attaching his lips to yours and engaging in a slow, loving kiss. His other hand traveled to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him; wanting every part of you to be near him. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands. He let out a low growl and you smiled, knowing exactly what you were doing to him.

“What do you say I show you exactly how much I love you?” Your smile widened as he stood up with you wrapping your legs around his body as he carried you to your shared bedroom.

Marvel Tags:

@redcoatgirl

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #sam wilson #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier fluff #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fluff

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demonpiratehuntress · 6 months

Text

hard

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

Summary - You get jealous when you see a woman chatting him up at the bar, but don't do anything about it cause you two are "casual". It's when he punches the guy trying to chat you up that everything changes.

Warnings - mild swearing, mild violence, angst to comfort

You shouldn't be bothered by it. It's not like he considered what you had serious. He didn't want anything more, or at least that's what he'd told you. So you couldn't tell him you wanted to be official, all you could do was sit and simmer in silence as the woman batted her eyelashes at him and flirtatiously touched his bicep. He wasn't trying to stop her, which only worsened your already sour mood.

"(Name), can I just-" Sanji tried to gingerly remove the glass from your hand, in fear of you gripping it so tight it broke and cut you.

"It's fine, I was just going to get another one," you mumbled, getting up and making your way to the bar. An unwelcome and unpleasant feeling was settling over you, one that was both embarrassing and irritating.

That feeling increased tenfold when you noticed the woman move closer to the unfazed swordsman, who was listening but otherwise just drinking his alcohol. You looked away, swallowing thickly and trying to push down the nauseated feeling that was rising to the base of your throat. You were hurt. You wanted to cry. It was so hard to see what was happening, but you just had to. You took your refill and went back to your seat, unaware of the concerned look Zoro was giving you as you sat down.

He wasn't a complete idiot. He had noticed something was wrong, but with this woman constantly talking to him he didn't have the opportunity to pull away and confront you. He'd have to ask later.

The rest of the crew had vanished, but you assumed that they were chasing Luffy around the small town again in order to stop him from doing something stupid. Sighing, you sat back in your seat and crossed your one leg over the other, eyeing a sudden new arrival at your table. A young man, about your age, with a hopeful gleam in his eyes that you recognised all too well.

"May I ask why such a beautiful lady like yourself is sitting here all alone?"

You glanced at him again, unimpressed, "Dunno where my friends went."

"Then let me keep you company until they return."

You hummed, not disagreeing like you usually would. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was your sadness, but you didn't feel like telling him off. Your gaze wandered to Zoro and the brunette at the bar, your heart sinking lower in your chest as the same sight from before greeted you. Nothing had changed, and it felt like nothing would. At this point, she would probably win him over. The thought had your chest physically aching.

You didn't realise your hand was shaking or that you were tearing up until you felt the guy take the glass from your hand and set it aside before brushing his thumb across your cheek tenderly - with an affection that you craved from Zoro - to swipe the falling teardrop away.

This action did not go unnoticed by the swordsman, and his jaw clenched. How dare that guy touch you like that, the way Zoro wanted to touch you? How dare that guy pretend to like you when all he wanted was to get in your pants? When Zoro was the one who liked you but was too afraid to say it?

"Thanks," you managed a shaky laugh, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

If Sanji were here, he'd probably have smacked this guy's hand away from you already - the thought cheered you up a bit, his antics always making you laugh even on your worst days. If only he could knock some of that romance and possessiveness into Zoro.

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're-"

You were about to cut him off, but someone had beaten you to it. The young man stopped talking, instead letting out a pained cry as he fell sideways, blood now dripping from his bottom lip. You looked up at his assailant, eyes going wide when you saw your green-haired crewmate standing over him, seething.

"We're leaving."

"What-"

You were cut off by Zoro grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the bar. You were halfway down the street when you pulled your hand away from him angrily and stormed off back to the ship, not saying a word to him. You didn't want to start a scene in the middle of the town, where all eyes would be on you. He sighed in frustration, but followed you quickly so he wouldn't get lost on his way.

When you were both back on the Going Merry, he stopped you from heading straight to your room, grabbing your wrist again. You sighed, but didn't turn to face him.

"What?"

"Why are you mad at me?" He sounded so confused - and he was cute when he was confused - that you almost caved. Almost.

"I wouldn't use 'mad' to describe what I'm feeling," you told him. "So can we just drop it? It's nothing."

"Well it's bothering you enough that you won't even look at me," he shot back, "So what is it? Did I do something?"

You laughed bitterly, finally turning around to face him, "You only made me fall completely and irrevocably in love with you!" He opened his mouth to say something, but you weren't done. "Yes, I know, you don't want a relationship! You've made that perfectly clear. But don't go and punch guys who are actually interested if you're going to happily let women flirt with you!" You were so angry, so upset, so hurt, that you hadn't realised you'd started crying halfway through your rant.

He stepped closer to try and wipe your tears away, but you shook your head and backed away from him, and his gaze hardened, "Do you really think that guy liked you? He just wanted to fuck you!" Just the words had his anger growing again. He wanted to go back and do more to that man, but he wanted to fix this first.

He was doing poorly.

"And how is that any different from you?!" You yelled, throwing your arms up in frustration. Your words took him by surprise, and his eyes widened in shock. "Just...forget it."

Before he could say anything else, before he could stop you, you jerked your hand away from him and retreated to your room, slamming your door shut. He followed silently, his own heart sinking when he stopped outside the door and heard your sobs. He felt even guiltier knowing he'd caused them, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. But you clearly didn't want to see him, and he couldn't blame you.

"Idiot," he mumbled to himself as he moved away, planning to ask Nami for help on how to fix this.

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

The next morning, you woke up feeling more exhausted than usual. You curled up in your bed, not wanting to go out and face him again. You wanted to avoid him, feeling too hurt to be around him at the moment. But the crew didn't deserve the same fate, so you sucked it up, swallowed your pride and eventually dragged yourself out of bed. Thankfully, while everyone else was in the kitchen, Zoro was not.

"What happened between you two?" Nami questioned as you took a seat next to her.

"Between me and who?" You feigned confusion, trying not to let it show how badly you wanted to cry again.

"You know who," she deadpanned. "He was in a panic last night, damn near assaulted me on my way onto the ship. I've never seen him so panicked."

You looked down at your food, "We argued. He doesn't feel the way I do."

"Been there," Usopp chimed in, earning a smack from Sanji.

"I'm pretty sure that's not the case," Nami told you.

"Give me a chance, (Name)," Sanji begged, "I won't treat you like this!"

"Shut up, cook," came an annoyed response from the door. "She's mine."

You immediately got up to leave, not wanting to say anything to him, not even wanting to look at him, but your path was blocked. Shoving him out the way wasn't an option, he was a brick wall in that regard. You were not prepared for what happened next.

He fell into your view because he got down on one knee, holding out a small box. Your eyes shot wide open, a gasp leaving yours and everyone else's lips. Only Nami seemed unfazed.

"What are you doing?" You asked shakily.

"What does it look like?" He deadpanned, but he sounded a bit nervous. Like he didn't really want to do it. "Proposing."

"And why are you proposing?" You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"Because I'm sorry?"

"You're proposing because you're sorry?"

"You said you wanted more!"

You burst out laughing then, feeling all your anger fade away. He was truly the biggest idiot you've ever met, and you loved it regardless of how frustrating he could be sometimes. You got down on your knees in front of him, closing the ring box.

"I said I wanted a relationship," you couldn't contain the smile on your face, "Not that I wanted to get married. Not right now, anyway."

"Oh," he put the box away sheepishly. "That's a relief. I wasn't-"

"Ready?" You giggled, "I know. You were barely ready for a relationship."

"Okay, that was uncalled for."

He said it in his usual monotone drawl, but he was smiling. Relieved that you weren't mad at him anymore, and happy to see a smile instead of a frown on your face, he took both your hands in his and gently tugged to tell you to move closer. You obliged, feeling butterflies at the way he looked at you.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, and you felt something change. This kiss was different, it was more passionate and more loving than all of the other kisses you'd shared. This kiss expressed your love for him, and his love for you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I was ready for a relationship with you a long time ago," he admitted when you pulled away, "Just thought you were fine with keeping it casual."

"I actually want to strangle you right now."

He laughed at that, then kissed you again. And again. And again. It became clear he was trying to show the others you were his now, and you wondered if Sanji had inspired this display of affection.

"I'm not very good at this, so just bear with me."

"I'm trying."

"I'm being serious!"

"Me too!"

He shook his head in dismay while you laughed happily, enjoying the fact that you could get on his nerves. He pulled you closer, tugging you against his body and forced your head into his chest to shut you up.

"Wait...Nami, did you help him plan this?"

#one piece live action #opla zoro #opla zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #opla x reader #zoro x you #opla

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