#they made her in a lab specifically for ME. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellemj · 3 months

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Look At Me

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @daddy-bucky: one bed trope "with a bit (LOTS & LOTS) of breeding kink."

Summary: Bucky gets exposed to a chemical compound that heightens his already above-average sense of smell. Then he's stuck sharing a bed with the girl he's nearly fucked on more than one occasion.

Warnings: profanity, dubcon (noncon? if you look too close?), slight thigh fucking, unprotected sex, somnophilia, heavy breeding kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: This one took me a few days because I got a bit of writer's block around the time the smut started. Thanks to @daddy-bucky for this unhinged request, specifically for the part where you requested that he be feral, apologizing but can't stop himself, and for mentioning that he can smell her ovulating. You are unhinged and I love it.

There are worse things than a mission going sideways. There are worse things than being stuck in a safehouse overnight. There are even worse things than being hunted down by a few thugs from a HYDRA offshoot. But you’re sure that there isn’t anything worse than being shut in with a man that you’ve nearly slept with on more than one occasion.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on your face as you try to come up with a way to make it through the night. You’re a four-hour drive away from the compound, and a five-hour drive away from the nearest SHIELD base. The safest option you had was to head to the closest safehouse and tuck in until morning, with a handful of modern-day HYDRA operatives hot on your heels. You start toweling your face dry and running through all of the mistakes that were made today.

The first mistake was believing that the intel you received about the new HYDRA facility was accurate, without doing the recon yourself. You were told that the facility is empty three days a week, only in operation from Monday through Thursday. That’s why you and Bucky staged your break-in for today, a Friday. Your second mistake was letting Bucky follow you into the lab, instead of having him stay at the door and keep watch. You don’t know what possessed him to take his own look around, to start reading the labels on the various vials located in glass refrigeration units and on benchtops throughout the room. Your third mistake was tucking your gun into your thigh holster while you searched through the lab’s computer, looking for the identification number of one specific compound that you were sent to retrieve. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you wouldn’t have been caught off guard when a night guard came bursting through the door, pointing his weapon right between your eyes. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you would’ve been able to shoot the guy yourself. Bucky wouldn’t have shoved you hard enough to send you crashing into one of the little glass refrigeration units in an attempt to get you out of the line of fire, before killing the guy himself. The shot leaving Bucky’s gun didn’t even register in your mind as you watched the glass door shatter and the vials inside shake around on the shelves. As you steadied yourself and shot Bucky an annoyed look, you didn’t notice the vial full of pale pink liquid was the only one that had broken and spilled.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked gruffly, grabbing you by the forearm and pulling you away from the broken glass. You nodded quickly, feeling perfectly fine after being seconds away from having either a bullet in your head or shards of glass in your skin.

“I’m fine, just help me find the vial labeled 012-6A, so we can get out of here.” You double-checked the ID number on the computer screen one last time as Bucky stepped around you and began rifling through the refrigeration unit that you’d just been shoved into.

Bucky wouldn’t have known that he inhaled enough manganese to cause hyperosmia. He noticed the pink liquid spread over the surface of one of the shelves as he stepped in close and read over the various labels on the vials that were still intact, but he assumed you’d already seen the spill and since you didn’t mention it, it must not have been a big deal. In truth, even if you’d seen it and been able to properly identify it as a manganese compound, you would’ve written it off as being a minor incident. You’d have to be continuously exposed to it, inhaling large quantities of it over time to really be in any sort of major danger. A little sniff in a lab accident wouldn’t send either one of you to the hospital.

However, one of the known side effects of inhaling manganese is significantly increased olfactory perception, or to put it plainly: a heightened sense of smell. You might be able to smell the cleaners used on the lab floors or the wet dirt stuck in the treads of your tactical boots, if you’d inhaled the manganese. But Bucky, already having a heightened sense of smell from the super soldier serum coursing through his veins, would soon be able to smell everything.

After finding vial 012-6A, the two of you were tailed from the moment you left the compound until Bucky started weaving in and out of traffic, doing everything he could to shake the tail. You notified Fury and Sam of the situation and within minutes, you had an address to a safehouse and were on your way.

Bucky carefully folds out the couch bed, watching the thin mattress unfurl before him. It might just be the most uncomfortable looking bed he’s ever seen, but it’s not like he ever sleeps much anyway. You, however, are in for a rough night. Before you went to shower, you found a set of sheets and a quilt tucked away in a closet and set them out. Bucky begins making the bed but something isn’t quite right. As he lays the flat sheet over the fitted one and begins tucking the corners at the foot of the mattress, he starts to wonder why the he can smell the metal springs beneath. The metallic scent is strong, as if he’s pressed his nose right against the springs and inhaled as hard as he could. He stands up straight and sniffs the air, instantly overwhelmed by the plethora of smells circulating in the air. What the hell is going on?

When you emerge from the bathroom a moment later, you find Bucky standing in the middle of the tiny house, running a hand through his hair and looking a bit bewildered.

“Bucky?” You call his name softly, slowly crossing the room and eyeing the bed that he’s made up for you both. He keeps his gaze trained on the floor, not even acknowledging your presence. “Bucky, what’s going on?” You try again.

“Everything smells really strong.” He answers dryly, still not looking up at you. You narrow your eyes at him and start scanning his features, looking for any clues as to what might be going on.

“What do you mean? Don’t things always smell really strong to you?”

“Not like this, this is…I can smell your shampoo.” He says. His blue eyes flit up, meeting your gaze and holding it.

“What did you touch in the lab?” You ask suddenly, already leaping into action. You sit on the side of the couch bed and reach for your bag that sits on the floor, dragging it over to your feet. You rummage around for your laptop, fishing it out as soon as it hits your fingertips.

“I didn’t touch anything.” Bucky promises, shaking his head. He takes a couple of steps back, away from the bed, as if he can’t stand the smell of your shampoo or whatever else he smells on you. You begin typing quickly, working to open a secure video call line to Bruce Banner. “There was a spill, in that fridge I pushed you into.” He remembers, recalling the liquid that was spread over the shelf.

“Did you breathe it in?” You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you sit and wait for Bruce to join the video call.

“No, I mean, I don’t know. There wasn’t an odor, it didn’t feel like I breathed anything in.”

“What color was it?” You ask, already narrowing down the list of chemicals in your head based on the fact that it was odorless.

“Pink, clear.” Bucky answers. He’s rubbing the back of his neck as you wrack your brain. Pink, clear, odorless, hyperosmia-inducing. You have a theory, but you need Bruce to confirm. Your shoulders relax as your mind begins to realize that the chances of the chemical having been life-threatening are very low. There aren’t very many chemicals out there that are known to cause hyperosmia, and the ones that do are really only dangerous in large amounts. Bruce’s face appears on your laptop screen and relief washes over you.

“Hey, I have a few questions for you.” You say kindly, smiling at the scientist that you’ve grown familiar with. Bruce smiles back at you and Bucky catches himself narrowing his eyes and wondering how close the two of you actually are.

“Shoot.”

“There was a spill in the lab, Bucky may have inhaled something odorless, a pink aqueous solution. It’s causing hyperosmia, he says he can smell my shampoo from across the room.”

“More than his usual hyperosmia?” Bruce questions thoughtfully.

“Yes.” You and Bucky both respond in unison. You look over your shoulder at him again and notice how uneasy he looks, how he’s being sure to keep his distance from you. “I’m thinking it’s some sort of manganese compound.” You guess, turning your attention back to Bruce.

“You’re probably right. Just be on the lookout for any symptoms that would suggest otherwise, but if it was a small spill and he only inhaled a minimal amount of vapor from it, I wouldn’t be too concerned. The only worry I would have would be not knowing how manganese might react with the serum, but I can do some research on it and let you know what I find.” Bruce pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s what I was thinking. We’ll let you know if anything else develops, just send me whatever you find.” After a few more exchanges between the two of you, you end the call and shove your laptop back into your bag. Bucky remains across the room, watching you carefully, like he’s afraid to get too close.

What you don’t know, is that Bucky can’t just smell your shampoo. He can smell you. Your hair, your skin, your everything. You leave him be and head to the tiny kitchen connected to the living room, in search of a glass of water. Bucky inhales deeply through his mouth, trying to avoid smelling anything, but your scent lingers in the air and it’s suffocating. He’s going to have to sleep in the car just to get away from it.

---

“Bucky, you’re not sleeping in the damn car and neither am I. There’s a reason we’re stuck in this safehouse, we’re staying put.” Your tone is stern as you stand blocking the door. Bucky sighs heavily. He knows he could easily move you out of his way, but he also knows he’s treading dangerous waters already. The two of you have always had an indescribable tension, a palpable energy between you. One drunken night a month ago, you nearly fucked. You were drunk, he wasn’t, but he might as well have been with the way he lost his self-control when you leaned into him and rested your hands against his abs. The heated makeout session that ensued was electric, with your back pushed up against a wall in whatever bar the team had been hanging out in that night. The only reason you didn’t go through with it was because the grating sound of John Walker’s voice echoed down the dimly lit back hall right before he turned the corner and saw you pushing Bucky away. Only a week after that, Bucky caught you staring him down in the gym, clearly enjoying the sight of him shirtless and sweating as he threw punches at the bag. An hour later he had your lips against his in the elevator, desperately kissing and licking as much of the skin of your jaw and neck as he could before the elevator reached the main living floor. He would’ve taken you right there if the elevator was any slower. The third and final time was a week and a half ago, when, during an undercover mission, you both seemed to have trouble keeping your hands off of each other. Your covers gave you an excuse to be a little handsy, but continuing to be handsy the entire drive back to the compound wasn’t quite so excused. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the car following you, not until Redwing picked up on it and Sam alerted you both. That was the night you both decided to stop whatever it was that was going on between you. It was dangerous and addictive and it only served as a distraction in the field. So, you stopped it before it ever truly began.

Bucky moves around to the opposite side of the bed, shooting you a moody look before tugging his shirt off and baring his chest. Your eyes drift down to the dog tags that hang around his neck as he starts pushing his pants down his legs. Suddenly he’s standing there wearing nothing but boxers and dog tags, and your mouth is damn near watering.

“You’re sleeping in that?” You ask incredulously, gesturing at his distinct lack of clothing. Bucky chuckles and pulls the sheet and quilt back, sliding under the covers with ease. The thin mattress curves down to support his weight and the springs creak loudly.

“You’re sleeping in that, so you can’t complain.” He mimics your gesture as he refers to your oversized t-shirt and lack of pants. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t have much in your bag, this was never supposed to be an overnight trip. You sigh as you sit on your own side of the bed, turning your back to Bucky. He turns off the lamp beside the couch and the room is cast into darkness.

While you’re sitting on the side of the bed, reminding yourself why the two of you decided to leave each other alone, Bucky’s lying on his back, breathing through his mouth. He can still smell you. The vanilla scent of your shampoo makes him want to bury his face in your hair and inhale as deeply as he possibly can, it smells so fucking sweet.

An hour later, you’re sound asleep next to Bucky, with your back facing him and the sound of your soft, steady breathing filling the quiet space. Every single minute that’s gone by since you slid under the covers next to him has be spent actively trying to ignore the smells in the air. First, all he really noticed was your shampoo. After fifteen minutes of lying next to you, he could smell the lotion you put on your legs that morning. Ten minutes later, he was ready to bust down the damn door to get to the car. He could smell you. Something so distinctive, something that was sending his entire body into overdrive with every breath he inhaled.

Now Bucky lies there, clenching his jaw and covering his face with both hands in an attempt to stifle the scent that he’s trying to pretend isn’t there. He’d have already gotten out of the bed and locked himself in the bathroom, the closet, or even a fucking kitchen cupboard if the bed springs weren’t so damn loud. He can’t make a move that big without waking you up, so he remains frozen. It’s not until Bucky hears you whimper in your sleep that he pulls his hands away from his face and turns his head to look in your direction. Though the scent of your unconscious arousal is affecting him so strongly, the sound you made momentarily redirects some of the bloodflow away from his cock, toward his head. The tone to your whimper was fearful. It escapes your lips again and Bucky watches as you begin to shake beside him. Fuck. Of course you have nightmares. You’re so similar in so many other ways, he should’ve assumed you were plagued the same way that he is.

As your eyes dart back and forth rapidly beneath your closed eyelids, your breathing quickens more and more until your body begins to feel deprived of oxygen. That’s when you wake up, gasping for air, in full fight-or-flight mode. You’re on your side, grasping the quilt in your left hand and desperately searching the darkness around you for anything familiar.

Without thinking, Bucky rolls onto his side and slides his vibranium hand over your hip. Though he can’t feel it, your shirt has ridden up above your thighs and his hand lands partially on the waistband of your panties and partially on your skin. You tense at his touch initially, still trying to figure out where the hell you are, but that touch is something familiar. Your mind latches onto it, and suddenly you’re remembering the last three times you felt it. Vibranium against your skin, his lips on yours, every nerve ending in your body firing at the same time. It’s familiar, so familiar that you relax after a couple of seconds and lean back. Your back brushes against his chest and his grip on your hip tightens a barely noticeable amount as he realizes you’re moving. He doesn’t want you to move back too far and find out that he has a full-blown erection while you’re recovering from a nightmare, but he also doesn’t want to stop you from finding comfort.

“You’re safe.” He whispers close to your ear, taking in the scent of your shampoo once again. His eyes close as the vanilla temporarily covers up the smell that’s been driving him insane for the past hour. “We’re in a safehouse.” He assures you. Your breathing begins to slow and your shaking limbs calm as you move your left hand. You release your grip on the sheets and slide it beneath the covers, running your palm over the crevices of his vibranium hand. So familiar.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” You apologize softly, taking in a shaky breath and flattening your hand over his metal one.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Though you know how he operates in the field, how he likes to be kissed, how infuriating he can be when he insists on doing things his way, you don’t know much about his sleeping habits…or lack thereof. Suddenly, the evening’s mission comes flooding back into your mind. You remember him being exposed to something and experiencing hyperosmia, with you and Bruce only being able to speculate about the chemical he inhaled. You make a move to look over your shoulder at him and when you do, your body almost enough to let your ass make contact with his crotch. He squeezes your hip so hard that you almost peel his vibranium fingers off of you.

“Shit, Bucky.” You speak through clenched teeth as he holds you firmly in place against the mattress. “What are you—”

“Don’t move.” He groans. The tone of his voice is one you’ve heard once before, when you were licking and sucking the skin along the column of his throat in the elevator that day. Instead of listening to his clear command, you try to wiggle an inch or two away from him, as if that would help the situation, but it only makes Bucky’s problem more obvious. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his black boxers, and as you move your hips once again, it brushes against your ass and you feel it. You feel it and you freeze. “Fuck.” Another groan leaves his lips and you feel your cheeks heat up. Your nightmare from moments ago is forgotten.

“Is it…is it from what you inhaled earlier? Tell me what you’re feeling.” The words come tumbling out of you with urgency as you grow more and more worried.

“Yeah. No. It’s just—fuck.” Bucky swears again, exhaling quickly and then inhaling through his mouth. “You smell so goddamn good, I don’t know what to do with myself.” You’re both silent, so silent that you can hear the way he’s mouth-breathing just so he doesn’t have to overwhelm himself with your scent.

“Bucky—”

“You saying my name only makes this worse.” His grip on your hip tightens slightly and you try to keep your own breathing shallow, so you won’t be moving even a centimeter more than necessary.

“What can I do to help?” You ask quietly. What can you do to help? Bucky bites his lip. Your question is so innocent, so kind, and yet all he can think about is actually letting you do the one thing that would help him right now.

“Let me sleep in the car.” He sighs. You can tell he’s struggling, you can tell he’s in need, and as much as you hate that he’s in that kind of position, you can’t help but feel a little excited about the fact that he’s in it with you.

“You know why that’s a stupid idea. What else can I do?” While you’re lying there in front of him, offering your help, Bucky’s squeezing his eyes shut as he remembers the taste of your lips and the skillful way that you ran your hand along his thigh in the car after that one mission, letting your fingertips just barely skim over his bulge. He remembers every fucking detail of the way you kiss and the memories paired with the fact that your ass is still pressed against him make him feel as though all control is slipping away from him.

“Remind me why I can’t have you.” His request takes you by surprise. It takes a moment for your mind to gather the words that will give him what he wants.

“We work together.” Three words? That’s all you can come up with? With his cock pressing against your ass, your mind is going on strike.

“We work together.” Bucky repeats. That’s a shit reason, sure as hell not a good enough reason to get him to let go of your hip.

“It’d ruin our working relationship.” You try again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in.

“It would.” Bucky agrees. Your reasons really aren’t even registering in his mind. He’s loosening his hold on your hip but instead of letting go completely, he starts dragging a vibranium fingertip along the waistband of your panties, almost absentmindedly. Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingertip ghosts over your lower stomach, but he slowly drags it back to your hip. He loves the way your body responds to even the slightest of touches.

“It could end horribly.” You point out, trying to keep your breathing steady as he continues tracing the waistband of your panties.

“It could.” He says with a small nod. Bucky doesn’t think as he leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck. One kiss. One deep inhale. Another kiss. Another deep inhale. You catch yourself arching your back the tiniest bit, pressing your ass against him more.

“There isn’t a single good reason for us to do this.” It’s the last thing you can think of. Bucky pulls his lips away from your neck and his hand stills on your hip.

“There isn’t. It would be a pretty bad decision.” He acknowledges. That’s when you feel him adjust his legs and grind into you. “We might end up hating each other.”

“We can’t have that.” You tsk, biting into your bottom lip after the words leave your mouth. Neither one of you has enough self-control to separate at this point.

“You can have whatever the fuck you want.”

The soft whimper that leaves your lips at the undeniably filthy sentence he’s just spoken against your ear makes him grind into you harder. He can’t think straight when you make noises like that, when you smell like you do. Fuck. You don’t say a word, so he slides his vibranium hand down your thigh and wraps it around your knee, hitching your leg back and over his own. Once he has you a little more spread and leaning even more into his space, he grinds against you from the new angle. You feel his erection against your clothed cunt and the already wet fabric between your legs gets a little more soaked.

“I thought you just agreed that this would ruin our working relationship.” You whine. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop. Though you sound like you’re being reasonable, your mind is anything but.

“I’m thinking about ruining something right now.” He grumbles against the side of your neck, nipping at your skin.

“We can’t do this.” You say firmly, reaching your left hand down to pull his vibranium one away from your leg that’s still hitched over his thigh. When your palm glides over the now warm metal, you can’t seem to push his hand away. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and fight to hold in the moans that are threatening to spill from your lips if he keeps grinding against you the way that he is.

“I know, baby, we can’t.” Bucky groans, rutting into you a little harder and faster, as if he’s trying to get just a little more pleasure out of this before it ends.

“We can’t.” You repeat. Why your hand lets go of his and moves to reach over your shoulder and tangle in his hair is beyond you. Why you pull him further against your neck, encouraging him to kiss and lick you even more is lost on you. Why you don’t do a damn thing to stop what’s currently happening can only be chalked up to how badly you’ve wanted him to fuck you since the first time you kissed him in that bar. Bucky doesn’t dare to say a single word more. He isn’t going to risk talking a little too much sense into you. So, he starts sucking on your neck, leaving obvious marks as you whimper and moan out those sweet, irresistible little noises that have him wanting to fuck you ten different ways.

Bucky’s holding onto the tiniest thread of self-control, it’s all he has left, a damn thread. Every single one of his senses is overwhelmed as he grinds himself against your barely clothed body and tastes the skin of your neck.

“We’re not doing this.” Bucky sounds so resolved, but even as he speaks the claim, he’s pushing your leg off of where it was hitched over his own and guiding you onto your stomach. He doesn’t want you on your stomach, fuck no. He wants you in any position where he can see the faces you make when he buries himself inside of you for the first time, when he starts fucking you the way you’ve needed to be fucked for weeks now, when he cums inside of you. But Bucky knows if he has the privilege of seeing your face through all of that, he won’t ever be able to look at you the same way. He won’t ever be able to go back to working with you in the field. It would ruin your working relationship just like you said. So, he makes sure you’re on your stomach when he starts pushing your shirt up and running his palms along the skin of your back. There isn’t a hint of protest from you as your back arches against his hands and your ass raises up ever so slightly. Even as Bucky begins tugging your panties down your thighs, not a damn word.

Your scent. Your fucking scent. As soon as he has your panties halfway down your thighs, he knows why he couldn’t resist you. You’re ovulating, and he can smell it, the pheromones, just radiating off of you.

“Fuck.” Bucky groans headily. He completely abandons his effort to tug your panties any further than your knees as he rolls on top of you and gets his cock in just the right position to slide between your legs. His hard shaft presses against your wet cunt as he lowers himself onto you and lets his length move between your upper thighs. “You’re already so wet, fuck.”

It only takes a second for you to have Bucky’s entire cock soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet. You can’t stop yourself from arching your back and pressing your ass up and into him as he teases you, dragging his length back and forth along your cunt but never giving himself the chance to slide in.

“Bucky…” His name leaves your lips as a needy moan and you don’t have to say another word. You don’t have to ask him to do it. He braces himself with his forearms on either side of your head, his knees on either side of your legs, and lets you shuffle your own knees until they’re underneath you enough to raise your ass off of the bed. A breathy whimper escapes you as a shiver runs down your spine.

“If you keep saying my name, I won’t be able to pull out when I need to.” Bucky warns you, just as you feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance. You think he’s about to push in, when he lets his cock slip away from your entrance and run lazily through your folds. He does it repeatedly, letting it rub against your clit over and over again, listening as your breaths come in more and more ragged at the stimulation.

“Shit, you’re right. You’re not wearing a condom.” You point out in a rare moment of clarity. Bucky chuckles and uses one hand to move your hair away from your neck, before leaning down as pressing a kiss there. You push your forehead into the pillow, muffling the soft moan that you can’t hold back.

“I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky repeats, as if he means to say that he wouldn’t wear one even if he happened to have one.

“You’re not wearing a—” You’re cut off by Bucky thrusting half of his length into you so suddenly and forcefully that the rest of your sentence disappears from your mind entirely and your hands move to grip his wrists beside your head. You dig your nails into him without realizing as your muscles tense and you press your face into the pillow once again.

“That’s it, get used to it.” Bucky encourages you. It’s such a simple thing to say yet it sounds so filthy coming from him in this moment. It is filthy. He takes a moment for himself, focusing on how tightly your pussy is gripping the first few inches of his cock, how your arousal is basically dripping down his shaft as he lets you adjust to him. That little thread of self-control he was holding onto earlier has frayed more and more and he can’t stop himself from forcing the rest of himself inside of you, until his balls are pressing against you and you’re screaming into the pillow.

“It’s too much, oh my god, it’s too much.” You moan out as you lift your face from the pillow and rest your chin on it instead. You don’t dare to try and look over your shoulder at him, you can barely move without feeling the sting of his cock stretching your entrance.

“No, no it’s just an adjustment.” Bucky coos, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck and inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of your hair. “You’re taking it so well already, just relax for me.”

Your body listens to him. You feel yourself relaxing. First, your hold on his wrists eases until you’re no longer leaving nail marks in his skin. Then, you let out a deep exhale and sink into the mattress beneath him. Bucky’s in awe of you. He knows he’s big, and he knows it’s probably been a while since you’ve slept with anyone with the way work keeps you busy near 24/7. You really are taking him so well. He starts dragging his length out of you slowly, but only a third of the way before he’s pushing it back into you again. The wet sound that results makes him fucking feral. He does it again. Then again. And again. The next thing he knows, he’s holding your hips with your ass up in the air and your face down on your folded forearms as he fucks you so hard that the springs of the couch bed are threatening to snap. With every loud creak of the springs, there’s an equally loud sound of skin smacking against skin. It’s animalistic, the way he’s fucking you.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper. You bite into your forearm, surely leaving a mark, as he sets a tortuously pleasuring pace. You can feel him reaching a spot inside you no one has ever reached before and it has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“I know, fuck.” Bucky says breathlessly. He pounds into you over and over again, chasing his own release as he feels the walls of your pussy fluttering around him. You’re right there and he can tell. “Cum on my cock, so I can pull out and cum all over your fucking back.” He groans, sounding so damn needy. You can’t think straight. You’re definitely not thinking straight. That’s the only reason you say what you say next.

“No, I’m not cumming if you’re going to pull out.” You say defiantly, actively fighting to hold back your orgasm. Bucky thrusts into you even harder, letting you know that he most definitely likes the sound of not pulling out. He leans down until his chest is pressed against your back and he’s close enough to whisper against your ear.

“You’re going to make me cum inside you when you’re fucking ovulating?”

“How do you—”

“I can fucking smell you.” He rasps against your ear. “Answer me. You really want me to do this?”

You don’t even take a moment to think about it, not a single moment to consider the possible consequence.

“Please.”

It’s only a few hard, deep thrusts later when Bucky’s rhythm grows sloppy and he gives you every single drop of cum he has, fucking it all into you almost recklessly. With every last thrust into your cunt, he’s fully aware that he could be getting you pregnant. He’s fully aware, and yet, he doesn’t have a single fuck to give.

---

It’s the smell of your arousal mixed with his cum, dripping out of you and into your panties, that wakes Bucky around midnight. It’s only been a couple of hours since he was buried deep inside of you but it feels like it could’ve been days ago with how hard his cock is right now. He reaches beneath the covers, palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers as he listens to your steady breaths. You’re sleeping so soundly beside him, with your back turned to him and the covers pulled up just past your waist.

A few key thoughts run through Bucky’s head as he lets his hand run along his clothed length. How serious is this to you? Have you wanted him as badly as he’s wanted you since that night in the bar? Is it just physical for you? A surface level attraction that you momentarily gave into because he was horny and shoving his cock against your ass in a shared bed? But you let him cum inside of you, while you’re ovulating. When your body is fully ready and capable of beginning a pregnancy, you let him pump an entire load into you without a hint of hesitation. You didn’t just let him, you said please. Bucky’s suddenly pushing his boxers down his thighs for the second time tonight, wrapping his fist around his length, and rolling over to face you.

He doesn’t think there’s ever been a better scent than the one emanating from between your legs right now. He can picture the way his cum is swirled together with your arousal right now, probably threatening to soak through the thin fabric of your panties and drip down the soft skin of your thighs until it reaches the bedsheets beneath you. It’s that thought that spurs Bucky on, that makes him tug your panties to the side and press a gentle kiss to the side of your neck as he guides his cock between your legs. The moment he feels the warmth of his own cum from earlier drip from your folds to coat his shaft, he starts mumbling against your skin.

“I need you.” He whispers into your neck, fighting the urge to bite into your skin as the head of his cock notches inside of you and begins to slide in. “Wake up.” Your eyes flutter open just as the head of his cock has fully entered you and the rest of his shaft is following. A raspy swear escapes your lips as your back arches and you start to tense up at the sudden intrusion. Bucky’s vibranium hand flies to your hip, stilling you as he continues pushing in.

“Oh my god.” It’s all you can say as he bottoms out inside you and immediately starts pulling his hips back. He sets a much slower pace than last time, rhythmically fucking you sideways. “I’m sore.” You whimper, turning your head slightly to muffle your moans in your pillow, just like you did earlier.

“I’m sorry, I know.” Bucky groans against your neck, continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He can’t stop. He can’t make his hips still, he can’t pull out of you and let you recover. He just fucking can’t. He fucks you as gently as he can, using his own cum from earlier as lube. With every slow thrust, your soreness dissipates more and more and pleasure begins to replace it. When he cums inside you the second time, it’s without warning, without one single worry about pulling out. He just does it and expects you to take it…which of course, you do.

---

You wake up two hours later, with aching thighs and the slightest hint of a burn on your neck from Bucky’s scruff. As you lie there in the darkness, listening to the sound of Bucky breathing softly mere inches behind you, feeling the excessive amount of cum pooling in your panties, you only seem to be able to think about one thing. Both times that he’s fucked you, he did it from behind. You didn’t get to see his face once. Not once did you get to see how he reacted when he felt the walls of your pussy clenching around him, the face he made when you told him you didn’t want him to pull out, or the way his eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open when he was cumming. You’ve been deprived of it.

Why does it bother you so much that he hasn’t looked in your eyes either of the two times he’s fucked you? Is he trying to pretend you’re someone else? As tears begin to rim the edges of your eyes, you tell yourself that you’re just being emotional because you’re ovulating. God. You wouldn’t have even known you were ovulating if he hadn’t told you himself.

Truthfully, you’re not even horny. Yet, you find yourself rolling over as quietly as possible, making sure the bed springs don’t creak beneath you. You’re silent as you tug your panties down your legs and toss them onto the floor. You’re even more quiet as you pull the covers back just enough to let you stealthily straddle Bucky’s hips, making sure you don’t touch him yet. Who knew this is what you’d be using all of your professional training for?

He begins to stir when your fingertips graze over his lower stomach. He draws in a deep breath as you tug his waistband down and free his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. His eyes are blinking open, studying the sight before him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and stroke it firmly. That’s when he comes to his senses and his gaze lands on your face.

“Shit.” He breathes out as you sink down onto his length with determination. Your face. He can see your face. The way your features contort as you try to fit all of him in at this new angle is ruining him. This is exactly what he didn’t need to see, so he tries to talk some sense into you. “You’ll be too sore if we do this again, three times is too many.” Bucky says quietly, running his hands up your thighs to grab onto your hips. You’re only an inch from being fully seated on his cock when he holds you still, not letting you slide down any further. He doesn’t want it, you think. What man tries to stop a girl when she’s already sitting on his dick? He just wanted to fuck you in the dark, with your face invisible to him, and then he wanted to be done with you. Tears well up in your eyes a little more and you dare to look down at him. His gaze coasts from where you’re both connected, up the front of your t-shirt, to your face. That’s when he sees the watery layer over your pretty irises.

“Just let me do this.” You plead, pushing his hands away from your hips and taking in the last inch of his length. Bucky inhales sharply and screws his eyes shut as your tight, wet cunt envelopes his cock completely. He can’t deny you. He can’t deny you, so it’s his turn to fist the sheets as you start moving your hips. You alternate between sliding up and down the entirety of his length and grinding in deep, slow circles when he’s fully sheathed inside you. Even as a tear falls from your face and lands on his bare chest, he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m already so close.” He groans, lifting his hands and covering his face with them. He wants nothing more than to roll you over and fuck you missionary. He wants to rail you into the mattress until its deformed and concaved to fit your body. He wants to pin you down and look into your eyes as he fills you for the third time.

“Look at me.” You whisper, moving your hips a little faster. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Bucky groans beneath his hands, and reluctantly removes them from his face, resting them on your thighs once more. His eyes focus between your legs again, but after a couple of seconds his lifts his gaze to meet yours.

“How do you still look so damn pretty after taking my cock the first two times?” He asks with a pained groan. You know he can’t possibly have much to give you after the first two times, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to take what you can get. You start bouncing on his cock with increasing desperation, chasing your own orgasm. “You even look pretty with tears in your eyes.” He says with a softer tone.

Right as Bucky nears the edge, you feel his cock twitching, you feel his abs tighten beneath your hands, and you lean down. Your nose brushes against his and for a second, you think about kissing him.

“You know why I didn’t want to see your face?” He asks, his ability to form a complete sentence surprising even him. He pushes your hair back, cupping your cheeks in his hands as you continue riding his cock. “Because I knew I’d memorize the way you look when you’re stuffed full of my cock, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you the same way again.”

“So you were okay with potentially getting me pregnant but not with looking me in the eye?” You ask incredulously, your hips slowing. Bucky groans and thrusts up into you impatiently.

“Don’t talk about being pregnant, fuck.” He thrusts up again and a smile plays on your lips. His hands move from your face down to your waist as he starts setting a pace.

“Bucky, you fucked me raw. You came inside me twice. I’m probably halfway to pregnant right now and you’re about to do it all over again. We can’t talk about it?”

In the blink of an eye, Bucky’s rolling you over, making sure his cock stays inside of you as he lays you on your back and immediately starts thrusting into you.

“Fine.” He grunts, pushing your thighs up to your chest and draping your legs over his shoulders. He buries himself in you deeper and deeper with every snap of his hips. “I’ll look you in the eye right now while I make sure you’re so full of my cum that there’s no fucking way you aren’t pregnant. Is that what you want?”

“Fuck yes.” You moan out as he pounds into you. Within seconds, you’re a panting mess on the couch bed and Bucky’s staring down at you with a passionate, determined look in his eye.

“Look at me when I’m cumming inside you.” He commands. “Look at me when I’m getting you fucking pregnant.”

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @lulawantmula @i-l-y-3000 @armystay89 @fandomsfeminismandme

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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otaku553 · 1 month

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Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit

Some more design notes below:

Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.

For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.

I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.

I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.

Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.

I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha

The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.

#one piece #cat burglar nami #nico robin

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bluesidez · 23 days

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GymRat!Miguel Part 5

content warning: very fluffy, PDA ➡️ something in which the reader is shy about and Miguel is hungry for, Miguel’s bday is 10/13 here, it gets suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, George O’Hara is NOT abusive in this story and he will be Mexican here idc idc idc, some mentions of food (deer meat at one point), some of the gym photos are white men (my deepest apologies, I just want y’all to have an idea of the pose 😔)

word count: 4.3k (just nod and smile. she's thicc like me😗)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who learns your schedule front to back. He’s always there to walk you to your classes and carry your heavy bags and purses. Sometimes he’ll meet you outside of your dorm, sometimes you’ll send him your location and he’ll come running. Now, you both walk into the lab building hand in hand and leave the building swinging hands. You used to despise those lovey-dovey couples who were stuck in their own world, but now you could understand them completely. They were still a little annoying, though.

GymRat!Miguel who makes a habit of sending you post workout pictures in the early mornings. His go-to poses are the worm’s eye under-chest, the standing mirror, the bench mirror, and the back mirror. The last one was specific to his dorm bathroom, too shy to take his shirt completely off. Your thorough praises made him feel warm, but sometimes you let more silly things slip.

“You could probably choke me with your thighs and I’d be thankful”

“Baby don’t say that. :(( I would never hurt you”

“Oh so you can want me to sit and lay on you but I can’t ask for the same? Wow. The double standards”

“That’s not fair. You should sit on me. I can take it and I want it. Thoroughly.”

“Oh! So you’re saying I’m not strong enough. Got it.”

“Baby I never said that!”

“Whatever Miguel 🙄”

“ㅜㅜ”

“You never answered me though. Will you sit on me?”

“Go get ready for class 😒”

“😞”

GymRat!Miguel who tells you that his birthday is coming up at the last minute possible. You berate him for telling you so late and kick yourself for not asking sooner, but you still manage to get a reservation at one of the fancy local restaurants.

You pull out all of the stops you could. A gift card from Smoothie King, a pair of slippers to match yours, the newest Final Fantasy game, and a muscle bunny keychain to match your muscle bear keychain. He was your big teddy bear, after all.

You handed him the gifts after the staff brought out a chocolate cake with sparklers on it while singing at the top of their lungs. The chocolate syrup read “Happy Birthday Miguel 🤎” around the plate.

Miguel’s smile got bigger as he took the gifts out one by one. He paused when he got to the cards: one a birthday card and the other a thick “open when…” manilla envelope.

The birthday card was simple and sweet. It was the other stuff you were worried about. You found these cute ideas about letters and notes to leave for your significant other. You had one for anger, sadness, needing a hug, sickness, boredom, and even one for wanting a kiss. You remember Jess walking in on you with your lips smashed against the cardstock, trying to get a bunch of kiss marks to cut out. She just sighed out a “young love” and carried on to her side of the room.

“It’s only been a short time since we’ve been dating, but Thanksgiving and Christmas break are coming up so I wanted to leave you with something for when you can’t reach me.”

Your heart is thumping as Miguel takes the cards out, reading their envelopes.

What you don’t expect is for Miguel to start crying.

You startle a bit, scared that the gift is awful, but he lets out a watery thank you, flustered from everything.

You quickly make your way to his side of the table and hug him. You wipe at his eyes and chuckle at his cuteness, telling him you were afraid he didn’t like it.

He shakes his head, breathes deep and slow to calm his emotions.

“No, I will definitely be using all of these. I really appreciate this. Everything. I’m not sure how you were able to do all of this, but I’m thankful that you did.”

You couldn’t take it. Here he was with dewey eyes and red tinting his cheeks. It was cuteness overload.

You face him towards you and lean forward, connecting his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who stares at you stunned when you lean back. That was your first kiss with him. His first kiss with you and he was sitting here with his cheeks damp and nose sniffling away.

“I-” his heart picks up and he’s opening and closing his mouth. He was short circuiting.

“Can we- I mean if it’s ok, can we do that again?” Miguel stutters out.

You simply nod your head and lean in again, this time tilting your head.

The cards in Miguel’s hands drop to the table and his breathing stops. Your lips were soft and full. Another fraction of his dreams that were nothing compared to the real thing.

He could only hear his heartbeat and the soft jazz music in the restaurant when he let up for air.

This was definitely the best gift of the night.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed when the waiter comes and asks if you two need anything while he’s leaning down for another kiss.

He just got to kiss his dream girl. Who cares if the waiter saw him kiss you some more?

You jump when the waiter’s hands come close to you two as he picks up an empty dinner plate. You look to the waiter awkwardly to apologize and ask for the check.

This just makes Miguel want to pull you in his lap and kiss you as the entire staff goes by.

GymRat!Miguel who wants you to feed him bites of his cake. You happily agree, especially since he was the birthday boy. His eyes never leave you the whole time.

GymRat!Miguel who grabs the check before you can pick it up. He doesn’t want you to pay for the meal.

“Miguel, it’s your birthday. I picked the restaurant and reserved the seats,” you say a little whiney.

“But I want to pay for the dinner,” Miguel pouts as he holds the check out of your reach.

When he got like this, it was hard to change his mind.

“If you let me pay, I’ll give you another kiss.”

“Just one?” Miguel brings the check back to your level, squinting at you.

You sigh, “I’ll give you ten.”

“Deal.”

Miguel gives you the check with a giddy smile and you slap your card on it.

The kisses still don’t stop him from taking over the tip.

So stubborn.

GymRat!Miguel who texts Gabriel once he’s back in his dorm. He sends pictures of everything from the food to the cake to the gifts.

“Look at what my baby did for me 🤪”

“The same one you left at the party even tho you blew up my phone about her for weeks? 😕”

“Yes…I didn’t do it on purpose. Me and her talked about it already”

“jk jk it wasn’t your fault”

“No way she got you final fantasy. Dana barely got me a cupcake”

“This just proves that my gf is better”

“Tbf tho you and Dana are still in high school”

“Ohhhh my god. You turn one more year older than me and all of a sudden you have the wisdom of a sage. SHUT UP 😭”

“I’ll literally be in college next year”

“AND ANYWAY you’ve never shown me this so-called gf. How do Ik you haven’t gone insane?”

Miguel clicked the back of his teeth in annoyance. Peter walked by him with his eyebrow raised and Miguel just waved his hand.

He sent a picture he took of you from tonight. You looked amazing in that dress and your eyes were beautiful and deep. You were smiling at him from across the table.

“First you try to steal Dana from me and now you get her”

“It’s crazy how this world is so anti-Gabriel”

“What are you yapping about”

“And I didn’t take ANYTHING from you 🫵🏽”

“We were 6 and 7 and you couldn’t push her hard enough on the swings. When will you get over that?”

“It burns all the same”

“You should give me her number and I can let you experience that feeling”

“Gabriel.”

“Show her what a real O’Hara is like”

“Cabrón”

“You’re so lucky I’m not next to you right now”

“THE BIG C WORD?”

“I’m telling mom you called me that btw”

“All because I wanted to meet your gf ☹️”

“Bastard”

“I’M TELLING MOM YOU CALLED ME THAT! WTF?”

It wasn’t long before Miguel’s mom was calling his phone to berate him. He pressed the green button, air pushing out of his nose as his mom’s face filled up the screen.

Peter looked bug eyed as Conchata’s rapid fire words filled the room.

“Ma! That’s so not fair! Gabri called me a bastard!”

There was a quick pause as his mom made a face that he knew all too well. Miguel heard Gabriel yelp as a sandal made a loud impact with his skin.

Miguel heard Gabriel cry out as his mom took off her other shoe, ready to aim, “MIGUEL HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”

Miguel just threw his phone on the bed and groaned. He could hear Peter snickering from his desk.

“What girlfriend? Miguel! Where are you? Come back and answer me,” Conchata’s voice got louder and louder. “I can’t believe you two! You would think this distance meant that you two wouldn’t fight like you’re still sleeping in the same room.”

“We’re not fighting,” Gabriel said. He smirks as he gets in the camera next to his mom. “Miguel is still hiding things from you, though.”

Miguel picked the phone up again with a frown on his face. Gabriel just stuck his tongue out like the brat he was.

“Mijo, what’s going on?” his mom asked, concern in her voice. “First, it was the party and now this. Do you need to come home?”

“No, ma,” Miguel sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine now. Great even.”

“Then why haven’t you told me about this girlfriend of yours?”

“We just started dating. It’s still very new,” Miguel chose his words carefully. Ever since his second seamster in high school, she’s been super sensitive towards him and his feelings. Knowing her, she might give you a hard time. He didn’t want that for you just yet. “I didn’t want to introduce you to her until we were more solid.”

“I think a girl that helps to organize the take down of a sorority in your honor is pretty solid,” Gabriel comments off camera.

“She did that?!” Conchata stares at Miguel with furrowed brows.

Miguel only nods, lips wound in a tight line.

“Oh well, mijo, I have to meet this girl!”

“I don’t think-”

“Let me know when she’s free to come home with you! Maybe over Thanksgiving?”

“Ma, she has her own family-”

“Ok I have to go now! I have to catch my shows. Call me more often or I’ll have to come up there!”

The room fell silent as the call ended and Miguel was met with his messages with Gabriel again.

“CHECKMATE!”

Miguel still wanted to throttle him.

GymRat!Miguel who’s super excited when Halloween comes and you want to wear couple costumes. He hasn’t done costumes since early middle school. Growing up meant realizing that some people your age want to grow up. Fast. No one wanted to dress up in silly costumes anymore or go trick-or-treating. Sure, the scary stories were fun but at that age, he wanted to eat candy all night, not teepee houses and run in the woods.

He’s hanging out on his bed chatting with Mary Jane and Peter while you get ready in the bathroom. The theater and art department collaborated together to host a costume party. This time, Miguel wouldn’t leave your side. Maybe if you had to pee, he would consider waiting awkwardly by the door. He didn’t want the same mistake to happen.

The two of you decide to go as Starfire and Nightwing grouping up with MJ and Peter who dress up as Raven and Beast Boy for a Teen Titans theme.

The costume is pretty tight but he has to admit, it looks great on his build.

You walk out of the bathroom with a cheery “I’m ready!”

It’s definitely not ideal that his suit is so tight.

The skirt is hugging your body in every which way. The cut-outs at your hips had his fingers twitching. To top it off, the diamond cut out for your chest left him internally screaming.

Peter whistled from his desk and MJ hollered about how good you looked. You smiled bashfully, doing a 360.

Miguel wanted to shove MJ and Peter out of the room to reenact what Starfire and Nightwing actually got up to when they were by themselves.

You walk up to him and flip your flaming hair back playfully.

“Do you like it?” you ask, peering up at him.

“I think he more than likes it,” Peter mumbles out in a stage whisper. MJ elbows him softly in the stomach.

Miguel spins you around, “Fuck yeah.”

Your laugh falls out of you, surprised at his curt reaction.

“Honestly, you two can go ahead to the party and we’ll just hang out here,” Miguel said, face as serious as ever as he wrapped himself around you from behind.

“No, no, no! You can do whatever you want after the party. Keep it in, buddy,” Peter says as he starts to guide everyone to the door.

Miguel keeps himself attached to you all night.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you bring your things to your car for Thanksgiving break. It’ll only be a week but he feels like he might not make it.

“You’ll see me again next Sunday, Miggy” you say to him as he’s bent over you with the biggest pout out ever.

“I’m still gonna miss you,” Miguel leans further with his forehead on yours. “Wish you could come with me.”

“Maybe over the winter break we can plan a time to meet outside of school.”

Miguel just sighs dramatically.

You decide to say fuck it and kiss him in the middle of the almost empty parking garage.

Miguel doesn’t let up now that you’ve given him an inch. He’s holding you by your hips, your face, your waist, anything to get closer. He moans a bit into your mouth as you open up.

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper, “I really have to get on the road now, baby. And so do you.”

Miguel slumps as he guides you to your driver’s seat. You roll the window down and pucker your lips for another kiss.

Miguel obliges easily and asks, “Call me when you get there?”

“Of course,” you say.

He stands and watches you drive off, missing you already.

GymRat!Miguel who is almost knocked down when he opens the door to his home. Gabriel is wrapped around him like a koala, squeezing away.

Miguel laughs and rubs his back, relieved that he’s not heavy enough to knock him over.

“It’s good to see you too, Gabri,” Miguel laughs.

Conchata peaks around the corner and almost cries at the sight.

“My boys!” She coos while coming to the door. “George! Come help Miguel with his bags!”

Miguel waddles in with Gabriel still clinging to him. He’s glad to be home.

GymRat!Miguel who gets your call in the middle of Gabriel watching him play Final Fantasy. He pauses the game and runs to his room, Gabriel yelling at him to come back and unpause the game.

You tell that you made it home and that you’ll call him later.

You blow a kiss at the screen and he catches it with glee before you end the call.

Miguel is glad you left before Gabriel opens his door like that one big bird meme.

“Was that her?” he asks, voice excited. “Is she still on the phone?”

“Yes. No. Why are you eavesdropping like a creep?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping! It just dawned on me a little too late that you left to go talk to her.”

“Whatever,” Miguel groaned. “Let’s just get back to the game.”

“You know you can’t hide her from me forever, right?” Gabriel says, skipping next to Miguel.

“I’m not trying to. But you being a weirdo will make me want to.”

Conchata passes by them with a laundry basket on her hip, “Who’s hiding something?”

“Nobody!” Both Miguel and Gabriel shout in her direction and run back to their game.

Conchata rolls her eyes and continues to her bedroom.

GymRat!Miguel who becomes overwhelmed on Thanksgiving Day. It’s as if every close and distant relative was here. The first floor was full of people. As much as Miguel puts on, he’s never been an much of an extrovert.

He’s up in his room taking a breather. He pulls out one of the cards you gifted him. The one for when he missed your kisses.

He opens and pulls out a letter. There’s instructions on it.

“Each shade is for a different feeling!”

There was a cute chibi doodle of you kissing him on the cheeks at the bottom of the letter. He saw that there was a shade for nervousness/being overwhelmed.

He pulls out a polaroid of you and opens the bag of glossy paper kisses. He flips one and it reads, “Breathe slow and steady 10 times. Kiss me when you’re done.”

He does as you say and brings the paper to his lips. It even smells like you. Sweet. Fruity.

He smiles to himself and takes out one more.

GymRat!Miguel who finally lets Gabriel talk to you on Friday.

“He can be a bit annoying. I’m warning you now,” Miguel says.

“Don’t say that, Miggy. He’s your brother! He’s allowed to bother you at least a little. ”

Miguel yells for Gabriel to come in and he’s running to snatch Miguel’s phone.

“Hi! My name is Gabriel, the better O’Hara. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Oh my gosh,” Miguel watches as you gasp. “It’s like another Miguel!”

Miguel snickers as Gabriel groans loudly in annoyance.

“I don’t look like him. He looks like me!” Gabriel pouts.

“Well, you both sport that same O’Hara pout.”

Gabriel and you chat for a long time. Miguel had to cut the conversation short when Gabriel started to tell embarrassing stories from their childhood.

“Alright, you’re done,” Miguel says and snatches the phone back.

“Aw, but we were just getting to the good stuff!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I wanna know how you messed up the science lab in middle school!”

“Nuh uh, Gabri is running his mouth too much. Get out.”

“I can’t wait to see you in person!” Gabriel shouts as Miguel pushes him towards the door. “You can meet my girlfriend too! She’ll love you!”

“I can’t wait,” you say, laughing as Miguel struggles to detach Gabriel’s fingers from the doorway.

GymRat!Miguel who talks to you on the phone until you fall asleep. You look adorable as you’re blissful to the outside world. Your cheek is squished on your pillow.

He has the urge to bite it like it’s mochi.

“Buenas noches, mi amor,” he whispers before he closes his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of your breaths.

He didn’t know that you were still partially awake to hear him.

GymRat!Miguel who picks you up and spins you around after the break. You squeal in shock, surprised that he could pick you up in the first place.

“Baby, I lift much heavier weights at the gym. This is nothing,” Miguel stares at you as if you have two heads when you comment on it.

You’re in a daydream the rest of the day because of that fact.

GymRat!Miguel who joins you on your late study nights in the library closer to finals. You two always sit at one of the tables hidden by the giant bookshelves.

It was nice and cozy. Quiet and roomy.

It was also a great place to makeout.

Every time you got a set of flashcards memorized, Miguel would pull you in his lap and devour you with kisses. It was a great motivation and a welcomed distraction.

It always ended up getting a little too heated and Miguel would have to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Sometimes you would feel so delirious that you wanted him to stay so you could crawl under the table and take care of his problems for him.

That was definitely the multiple late nights talking.

GymRat!Miguel who is super bummed out by the time Christmas break starts because you two can’t find a proper time to meet.

You have to visit several other family member’s houses and his biological dad wants his family to join him and his family at some ski resort before the week of Christmas.

George O’Hara was not turning down a free vacation.

You told him to cheer up and enjoy the snow and jacuzzis. Miguel couldn’t help but to think that the jacuzzi would be better with you on top of him in it.

And when Gabriel annoys him, he didn’t mind all that much because that was his baby brother whom he loves dearly. It was when Kron, his step-brother, would run his mouth that Miguel would seriously get annoyed.

He’s been competing with Miguel ever since he caught on to the fact that his dad had a secret love child.

Right now though, he was pissing Miguel off.

First, it was fighting Miguel over a snowboard. Then, it was taking the last elk burger and not even finishing it. Next, trying to knock him off balance right as he got off of the ski lift.

It was as if he was 8 and not 20.

His final straw was when he was being a dick towards Gabriel. All Gabriel was trying to do was bring them together and Kron cursed at him.

Even Miguel doesn’t tell Gabriel to fuck off.

“What is up with you? Don’t cuss at him. He didn’t do anything to you,” Miguel unlocks himself from his snowboard, ready to leave.

“It’s ok, Migs,” Gabriel held his hand out, knowing how this could end.

“No it’s not. He’s been nothing but a dickhead to you, to us, this entire trip. I’m sick of it. Go be annoying somewhere else, Kron.”

“Dad,” Miguel shouts out. Both George and Tyler looked over at him in concern. Miguel didn’t feel like directing himself towards a specific person. “I’m going to the room, I’ll be back down for dinner.”

Tyler wanted to run after him. George was eyeing Tyler for even reacting to Miguel’s cries. Nancy and Conchata just stood in confusion.

“He, uh, he probably just needs a breather. Maybe he’ll talk to his girlfriend!” Gabriel said trying to lighten the mood.

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? I didn’t hear about any girlfriend,” Tyler says, saddened that he was being left out.

“Shit,” Gabriel mumbled to himself.

“You don’t live in our home, Tyler. Of course you don’t know,” George says, a bit peeved.

“What George means to say is that it’s all new. Fresh! Even I haven’t met the girl,” Conchata slides in matter of factly.

“Tyler should know her, being that she was the one who emailed him with our son’s case,” George grumbled out.

Tyler turned to Gabriel, “Jessica?”

“Uh, no.”

Tyler then says your name with a fondness. As if he knew you like an old friend. “She was quite compelling with her words!”

“So the two of you know of her and I still don’t even know what she looks like. I never thought this day would come,” Conchata held her gloved hand over her forehead like she was about to faint.

“Why don’t we host a small dinner next year? We can get to know her that way,” Nancy chimes in.

“Guys, I really don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Nonsense, Gabriel. If this girl was willing to do something so brave for Miguel we have to meet her,” Tyler grips Gabriel’s shoulder tight. A grip that could rival his brother’s.

“That’s a great idea, Tyler! Nice co-parenting move!” Conchata holds her fist out for him to bump. He does it proudly and they walk towards one of the cabins while Nancy follows behind, discussing dinner ideas.

George only scoffs and stomps off to his room mirroring Miguel’s mannerisms.

Gabriel was screwed once Miguel finds out.

GymRat!Miguel who waits until Christmas night in his bedroom to open the gift you sent to him. He smiles at your cute message and unfolds the paper to so much. It’s a Spider-man lego mask, a customized hoodie with a doodle of you and him, two picture frames with the two of you from his birthday dinner and the Halloween party, and some polaroids that you warned him to look at by himself later.

His breath shuttered as he took him in. They were all of you in your dorm room. They started off innocent. You were smiling, laughing, staring at the camera. Then they got a little more explicit.

You had on a tank top with no bra. Your cleavage was on display. Some showed your entire body on the bed. Some showed your torso and hips, curvy and full.

Miguel felt faint.

His final straw was the last picture in the stack. It was a picture of you from behind, “Merry Christmas XX” written in cursive across the top. You had on briefs but your ass was still readable, peaking out from the bottom. There was an arch in your back as you looked over your shoulder seductively. What a tease.

You were going to send him to an early grave. And who took these pictures?

All Miguel remembers was shuddering, hips lifting off the bed as he held one of pictures high. He had to bite his shirt as to not startle the entire house.

After he cleans up, he spreads the pictures across his bare chest and clicks a photo with a lazy yet satisfied smile.

You respond back with voice memos, so happy that he loved his gift. You also send some sounding a bit needy.

Miguel calls you and talks with you all night.

This Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

dividers by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: This one was really fun to write!! I dove deep into my lover girl brain for this. Like full on immersing myself into the reader’s position. I hope you enjoyed! 🩵

As always likes and reblogs are super appreciated. PLEASE COMMENT OMG. 😭 Let me know how you feel or I get nervous 😭😭😭!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm

#love lab drabbles 💊#GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x plussize!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x chubby!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara au #miguel o'hara imagine

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tarjapearce · 9 months

Note

Miguel x reader x punkmiguel?????

PRETTY PLEASE 🥺🥺🥺

Hope this makes it justice 😳 (No proofread at all I warn you.)

art by @bumbleboots_art in Ig

The Multiverse was still a baby concept for you. All you knew was that in other universes there were exact copies of you, doing any sort of things. A doctor that would surely make your parents proud, a stripper, that would surely cause the opposite effect. It was like Barbie and her own Multiverse.

Miguel had just quirked an eyebrow when you used the metaphor. But in your universe, you were another Spiderwoman, and you had been recruited by none other than Miguel O'Hara. HQ soon turned into a second home for you.

Annoying as you were sometimes, your input had provided him a different perspective, that bit by bit, had made you earn a spot in his personal circle. You adapted well, quick learner and practical.

---

Smoke filled in the place. The pressure levels from the particle accelerator had gone a bit too over the top, a miscalculation from both you and Miguel.

The explosion in the lab had created a rift, a small portal, enough for an unsettling scene stand before you, Miguel, Jessica and Hobie.

Another Miguel had gone through the rift, tearing through the fabric of space and time. But this wasn't your usual grumpy faced, sarcastic ass and perpetually tired with a chronic savior complex Miguel. No. He was just as tall as your groaning in pain boss, same facial structure. Yet he wasn't.

This portal Miguel had his hair ruffled, yet stylish, contrary to the neatly, well combed hair do you were already used by now. This Miguel had piercings in his face. His brow, and lips and ears to be more specific. He wore a leathery black jacket, the "NO FUTURE" caption drawn into it. Scruffy jeans with a studded belt and heavy boots. His fangs were out, he wore them proudly you had noticed.

Your Miguel, the one that was always grumbling about something, just stared back at him with a frown yet wide eyes. It was as if this Miguel had hung around too much Hobie, which just stared at him with a lazy approval smile.

A punk Miguel. They were face to face, seizing eachother with scrutinizing gazes. A typical 'opposite twins'. What archetype would each one be? Your Miguel would surely be the responsible and well behaved twin that would rarely to never break the rules. Describing the other would be to only make it out even more obvious.

The punk Miguel smirked at him.

"Puta madre, Qué viejo me veo." (Holy shit, I look old af)

Miguel frowned immediately as you giggled.

"¿Where am I?" The alternate version of your boss/almost lover spoke as he took in whatever his eyes could Guitar hanging upside-down his back. Just like Hobie's, hand tucked in his jacket.

"Miguel?"

"Hm?"

"Sí?"

The both turned to face you once more, speaking at unison.

"We need to send him back, as soon as we can."

"Should we give him a temporary pass?"

"No."

"Puedo oírte desde acá , jefazo." (I can hear you from here, Big boss)

Miguel scowled and faced him.

"Cállate." (Shut up)

"¿O qué?" (Or what?)

This Miguel smirked playfully.

"Alright, Alright. Let's calm down." You got in between them, nearly sandwiched between the mass of muscles and clothes to then create a bit of space between them.

"Let's play nice. We gotta figure a way to get him back home."

Punk Miguel wrapped an arm around your neck and spoke

"Gotta listen to her, old man. Don't wanna hang out in a place where you see yourself as the face of oppression. " Hobie saluted him from afar.

Ouch.

"Call me Miggy, Princesa."

Miguel's eye twitched at your stupified state and his words. You smiled at him, excitement sparkling in your eyes.

Trouble. Everything smelled like trouble. Jessica just rolled her eyes.

----

Reluctantly he ended up giving Miggy a temporary pass. Technically he still was Spiderman. His suit had you like a fangirl, marveling over the littlest details. Just like Hobie but darker and meaner.

Miguel would give you tasks, sometimes absurd ones, just to keep you away from himself. Literally.

"What's so funny?" You giggled as you went through the tasks

"Oh, nothing." The not so subtle jealousy from him was endearing to you.

The rest were as fascinated as you were. Miggy and Hobie surely clicked. They would ramble on for hours about their situations and how things were going in their universes. Never in his wildest dreams Hobie would admit that this Miguel was nice to be around.

---

Of course Miggy would scurry within missions whenever something caught his interest. He was more than capable in the battle field, still it was like having an unhinged different version of him. Still to this day it was bizarre to see himself acting like that. Like a total stranger.

Miguel couldn't help but wonder if he had gone through the same in his universe. He had overhead a bit of conversation with Hobie and just mentioned losing someone really important during duty. A requirement that seemed the only demand to join the Spider Club. As Miggy called it.

----

"¿Nunca te relajas?" (You never catch a break?)

"No."

"¿No is everything you say?" He smirked

"No. Yes."

"Con razón hasta canas tengo." (No wonder why I have white hairs.)

"¿Puedes callarte?" (Can you shut up?)

"The only good thing of being you is that we have this princesita here." He gestured over you as you sat down on a further chair.

"Guys, play nice." You mumbled as you entered the room. Miggy smiled your way, hands hoarding you briefly and twirled your body before letting you go.

"There is no we in there."

Miggy shrugged as he eyed you

"Sharing is caring, amigo."

"I'm not your friend. Nor share."

"Déjala elegir entonces. ¿O el pensamiento libre también es una amenaza para ti? " (Let her choose then. Or free thinking is also a threat for you? )

You couldn't help to shrink further and further at his words. Your cheeks were impossibly red, your stomach fluttered. Despite the fight, the both complimented eachother so well, like black and white. What one lacked, the other compensated and viceversa.

You gulped as both Miguels set their deep red eyes on you. Expecting. A shiver ran down your spine. The alarm of an anomaly flared up, you had never ran to duty so fast.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Miguel x Reader x Punk Miguel #t writes✨#spiderman 2099 x reader

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on-leatheredwings · 2 months

Text

Dirty Laundry (18+)

Yandere! Dick Grayson x (Fem) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > Request: I think Dick would be a major creep and your rules didn't say anything about no nsft, so can I ask for a fic with this scenario: Dick stealing reader's underwear and using the dirty ones to get off while cumming into the clean ones. And putting the "clean" ones back into her dresser hoping she doesn't notice the stains and wears them? Thanks! > a/n: …………………………………… Ohhhh, so you’re crazy. Meaning, you’re just like me . thanks for the dick request i want to write him better/more ;u; had fun writing this! > tw: someone cumming in your panties without your consent or knowledge, so sexual assault. As well as yandere-typical thoughts and behaviors. > Word count: 1847 (Ugh this was supposed to be like 3 paragraphs max but i’m me.)

Dick’s your best friend.

… You guess.

He was new to Blüdhaven, and you two just seemed to keep bumping into each other in the rare times you left your apartment. Might as well get to know the guy. You didn’t have much choice in the matter, once he attached to you. And that was okay, because you liked him back and, frankly, were in quite desperate need for friends. The man currently lounges on your bed, sifting through a magazine while you’re mixing audio for this indie rock cover band that’s commissioned you. That’s your side hustle and passion, when you’re not being a work-from-home researcher for S.T.A.R. Labs.

You’re an hour into your work and Dick Grayson is lounging on his spot on your bed, because he has claimed a spot at this point. All is well with the world. Then, your stomach lets out a groan, and so do you.

A pair of eyes, all ocean blue and twinkling, slide over to you without a second’s hesitation. You meet them, unblinking and unperturbed. Does he know he’s kind of a freak? Being all light-eyed and adoring?

You stand up without fanfare, removing your headphones from your ears and letting them sit around the column of your neck.

“I’m going to get food from the place next door.”

You yawn and walk away from your desk. That usually was much harder for you, but Grayson’s presence in your life had made it more of a priority for you to care for yourself. “Don’t touch anything,” you say, plainly and without venom. Without another word, you’re gone, and Dick launches up from his seat once he hears the front door to your flat close.

He told himself he was going to do this today. He told himself, and he is a man of his word.

He opens the bottom drawer of your dresser, where he knows you keep your clean pairs of underwear. Then he trespasses into your closet, where he knows you keep your laundry basket.

Dick knows where a lot of things are in your apartment, and he has made it his job to know every inch of your bedroom specifically. When you leave the room, like times like this, he enjoys going around and familiarizing himself with everything. And he’s planted cameras, of course. He does leave your en-suite restroom alone, an act he pats himself on the back for. You deserved your privacy, after all. To his disappointment, you do tend to masturbate exclusively in the shower, and he must tide himself over with the audio his cameras pick up, rather than visuals.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dick buries his hands into your laundry basket. These were the things… you wore. His eyes twinkle as he smiles. Still, he had no time to waste. While often busy, the Chinese place you were at was also known for its fast service. Dick grabs the first pair of panties he sees: blue lace-trim, white in color, with blue gingham. You’re so cute.

He sits in your closet, back to your hamper, slides off the jeans that look really good on him which he hopes you’ve noticed. All of these actions are done a little clumsier than normal because his pulse roars in his ears.

He lets his head fall backward, and he begins pumping his cock with your panties in that same hand. He thinks of your face, your body, your hands. He really likes your hands, so adept and amble, always flying across a keyboard or strumming a guitar. He thinks about the honest things you say, truthful but usually with tact. He thinks about your eyes crinkling when he’s being a show-off, and your pretty lips that you’re usually wetting with your tongue rather than finally just getting lip balm.

At this point, Dick is a wreck, eyes glazed over and only half-open. His eyelashes flutter as he struggles to keep them open. He goes slack-jawed, pink lips only a little swollen from his biting down on them. He’s about to finish, he knows he is. It’s building in him like the birth of a tidal wave. Pre-cum and his sweat have soiled your gingham pair, and he looks at the very plain pair of navy blue boyshorts in his free hand, clenched into a fist. He finds himself blushing. Your underwear is so… you, and it’s hilarious that holding them in his hand is what is flustering him so much. Considering what he’s doing.

Dick whimpers, a sound that’s both embarrassing and utterly liberating. Pleasure pulses in between his legs, his back shoots into an arch, his balls hike up to the base of his cock. He cums with a raspy cry, right onto the crotch of your boyshorts. He had initially planned to just finish anywhere on the fabric, but at the last second decided to cum where your cunt would touch. He’s kind of romantic like that. (He’s also kind of a pervert, and he knows that.)

He pants in the afterglow of his orgasm, cheeks painted over with rosy pink. He tosses your white pair back into its home, the laundry basket.

His calloused fingers reach up for the corner of his mouth, which had been agape this whole while.

… Was he drooling?

Dick robotically proceeds to rub his semen into your underwear until it's just a dark stain. He pulls his dark jeans from the pool of black denim they formed at his ankles, he runs his fingers through his hair at a job well done. He returns your boyshorts to your dresser, neatly folding them like all the rest. And finally, he wipes his mouth. He returns to your bed, and it’s like nothing has happened since you left.

Dick Grayson – Gotham pretty boy, badass superhero – should probably cringe; in any other context, isn’t that so lame…? But considering it was you, honestly, what could he have expected…

You come back into your bedroom, a bag of takeout swinging from your hands. His eyes don’t leave you for an instant.

… You simply have that effect on him.

You stomp through his room until you’re right in front of him, where he pretends to be scrolling on his phone. Your arms are akimbo as you stare down at him, blocking your room’s overhead light with your skull and casting your shadow over him. He looks up and smiles cheekily.

“Alright, Dickard.” Dick’s lips quirk. “Get out. I’m going to shower and change.” Sniffing yourself on the way back, you decided it was high time you did.

Dick’s brain goes a mile a minute. Shower. Change. Underwear? His heart skitters but he doesn’t show it.

“Aw, don’t let me stop you. Feel free,” he teasingly sings.

Your eye twitches and you take it upon yourself to physically move him. Not that you could if he chose to actually resist. You know that he must be strong, stronger than ‘doing acrobatics as a hobby’ must make someone. You’ve caught a peek at his abdomen and biceps now and then. Guy is ripped.

“Go eat,” you order, throwing the takeout into his hand. “I got enough for the both of us.” Why, Dick could twirl his hair and kick his feet right now – despite a prickly exterior, you really were a sweetheart, weren’t you? He refuses to have you pay for him though. He will definitely be returning the favor thricefold.

You successfully shoo the six feet tall model out of your room.

Once he’s out, you take your shower, standing for five minutes in the spray until it grows warm. You think with amusement at the idea of movies and TV making women showering such a sexy, erotic scene. Bitch, you are in here scrubbing pots and pans.

After the job’s done, your feet land on your worn shower mat from college, and pad towards your bedroom once more. You catch a towel on your way there, belatedly remembering that Dick Grayson may still be loitering in your bedroom, and you weren’t too keen on the idea of him seeing your private bits. Warily shifting eyes from behind the door, you see no one’s around.

Knock knock.

“Are you done?”

Dick’s voice from the hallway makes you panic, fearful that he may burst in before you’re ready and presentable.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a woman while she’s getting ready in her boudoir!“ you yell, hoping some rich person’s instinct suddenly clicks in him. You thought rich men were supposed to be gentlemanly. Really, ever since meeting Dick, who is son to the richest man in the state, you’ve learned rich people all must be whiny, clingy, braggers, show-offs, and sometimes, just plain brats. In your hurry, you swipe a panty from your drawer and slip it on past your thighs. Body still damp from the shower, you don’t notice anything.

The rest of your clothes follow, and you choose to sit back down in your desk chair. You turn back to your double monitor set up, ready to become a screen zombie once more when you remember someone’s waiting for you.

Without turning around, you holler, “Come in.”

Without a moment’s pause, Dick reenters, takeout plated for the both of you in each hand. He places one smoothly in front of you with butler-like precision.

“Your meal, madam,” Dick says in a Parisian accent, and you do smile in amusement. His eyes dilate, but you don’t notice.

“Thank you, my fine sir,” you return, a little embarrassed, accent weak, but willing to keep up the bit.

Dick knows not to disturb you too much while you work, so he wanders away as you slip your headphones over your ears once more. But before returning to His Spot on the bed, he quietly treads to your dresser. He sneaks a glance to make sure you’re still occupied. And you are, that blue wash of light painting your skin.

He pulls out the drawer, and– hhhhh.

He heaves with breath involuntarily, although it’s nearly imperceptible. You do make him slip more than he likes, but he’s experienced. He glances once more to make sure you didn’t hear that, and of course you didn’t. You’re still fiddling in Ableton Live.

He shuts the drawer and stalks to His Spot on the bed, and anyone who knows Dick Grayson would see that he is tense. He is stiff.

And how could he not be? You’re wearing the underwear he had cum on. Did you notice? Is this your way of coming onto him? No, you’re too forward to play games… Something he finds both refreshing and a shame, because he loves games. You simply mustn't have noticed. Regardless, the knowledge fills him with such ecstasy and arousal… and longing.

He eyes you discreetly as his skin reddens. He tries to act natural by eating steaming orange chicken, plucking it from his plate with a chopstick. One day, he’ll have you, in body and soul.

Until then, he can entertain himself with this game, however one-sided.

#yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x reader #really enjoyed writing a more mellow reader!#mine

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miguelhugger2099 · 4 months

Note

Omg first off LOVE!!! your wiring literally *chef’s kiss* imagine Miguel x reader suggestive smut where they’ve been both super busy and haven’t had time for each other and tension has been building up to this point.

Worth the Wait

nonie im gonna sob. not only was i so excited to see you be my first ask, this is also my first ever written smut!! aaaa im so nervous so please have mercy !! i jumped on my laptop as soon as i saw this and its so late right now haha im a little tired but i didnt want you to wait at all !! im not sure if i wrote too much or too little lol regardless i really hope you enjoy and if not i'm more than happy to make something else and thank you sososo much for the compliment <3333 the ask wasnt specified if it was fem!reader or not so i made it gn!reader just in case <3 Miguel x GN!Reader, Smut, too embarrassed to proofread it, Word Count: 3,681

“Hey, Miguel, do you think you could stay late tonight? Boss wants you in the lab for testing.” A short woman popped her head in his room, her hair neatly tucked in a high bun. Miguel stopped his pacing in his office, his glasses lifted on his head using it as a headband to pull back his fringe. He placed the beakers in his hands down and took off his gloves while ruby eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. He was supposed to leave in a couple minutes.

Miguel’s eyebrows scrunched up, tsking under his breath and turning to look at the woman. “Can’t someone else be there? Peter can oversee it instead.” He pleaded, exasperated. She gave him a sympathetic look and sighed.

“Sorry, Miguel. He specifically asked for you.” Not wanting to be the bearer of bad news anymore, she slipped out the door and shut it behind her, leaving Miguel to groan and slump his shoulders. He stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, breathing in and out to calm his anger. It seemed like these days all he ever did was overtime at work. He fiddled with the golden band around his left ring finger, his other hand twirling it mindlessly for some comfort and also a silent apology to you.

His heart ached as he made his way to his desk, picking up his phone and dialing your number. He licked his lips while he brought the phone up to his ear. Miguel wasn’t prepared to hear your voice, happy and hopeful and only be met with disappointment.

“Miggy?” You answer happily. A small smile forms on Miguel’s face.

“H-hey, baby. You doing alright?” He asked, taking a seat on his swivel chair and leaning back to stare at the photo of you two on his desktop.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m finishing up dinner. Are you on your way home?”

Miguel’s smile dropped a bit, realizing once more why he had called in the first place. “Um, about that, mi corazón. I have to–”

“You have to stay the night, don’t you?” You cut him off, disappointment evident in your voice. Miguel’s heart clenched at the sound.

“I…I do. Believe me, I don’t have a choice or I’d be there in a heartbeat.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m not mad or anything. This month has been hectic for both of us. I just… I just miss you is all.” You speak softly over the phone. He missed you more. He wanted to be there.

“Lo siento, bebé. You know how much I hate being away from you.” He apologized. “How about tomorrow, huh? I have off. We can go out and get a drink. Or maybe stay home? I know how much you love my cooking.” He offered, his heart beating faster at the thought of spending time with you again. That feeling sank when he heard you let out a quick puff of air in annoyance.

“I can’t. I’m working this weekend. Six days in a row,” You rolled your eyes just thinking about it. Your job always had a way of pushing your buttons. Miguel’s jaw clenched as he heard you. Miguel never really liked this recent event of work taking up his time from seeing you. He hated it even more when your job took you away from him. “God, I really thought we’d have tonight together at least.”

Miguel was quick to reassure you. “Hey, hey. Listen. We’ll have a day together. Eventually there’ll be a day for just us–all about us, I promise.”

When Miguel had arrived home, it could barely be even classified as night time with the way the sun had been peeking through the horizon. He dragged his body through the door, a cold home awaiting him. After kicking off his shoes, he dumped his coat and bag on the floor and made his way to the kitchen, eating the leftovers of the dinner you two were supposed to eat together before trudging back to bed. He saw you lying there on your side and he felt exhaustion drag him down.

Miguel slipped in under the covers beside you after striping himself of his clothes, leaving him in his underwear and slipped his arm around you. He pressed your body flushed against his, Miguel’s larger body enveloping yours protectively. His nose buried itself in your neck, his lips grazing your shoulder. His hand rubbed your stomach and then slid up to rub up and down your waist. Sneakily, he ran his hand under your shirt while his lips left small kisses on your neck and shoulder. You stirred awake as you felt the sudden touch of someone else.

Miguel felt you move so he pulled you tighter to him, keeping you caged in that position. “Mig…?” You called out sleepily. You felt something poke you from behind and groaned. Miguel continued to kiss your neck, his teeth coming out to gently nip at the skin making you shiver. He simply hummed his response.

“‘M home.” He murmured. He slowly turned you on your back, towering over you slightly with your leg between his. Miguel’s arm rested by your head while his attacks became more intimate. You leaned your head back, allowing him more access and his other hand on your hip squeezed you in appreciation. You bent your leg up on the bed slightly, your knee caressing his growing bulge in his boxers. Miguel let out a low groan, his hips grinding on you for some friction.

Your hands finally reached up to his hair, curling your fingers around his soft wavy brown locks. Miguel took this as an opportunity to capture your lips with his, muting the soft moans you were letting out. His own knee spread your legs apart, rubbing in between them to add to your pleasure. You felt a jolt of pleasure run down your spine, bucking your hips up instinctively. Miguel sighed against you, his hand on that had been gripping your hip, moved down to the hem of your pajama pants. He teasingly pulled it down, letting it snap back to your body and making you whine. You felt him grin through your kiss. Cheeky bastard.

Before he could ease his hand down your pants, your alarm had blared through the room, shocking the both of you and separating yourselves off each other. Miguel scowled while you clambered up to grab your phone. “The hell was that?” He grunted, displeased with being interrupted. You fumbled with turning it off, placing a hand on your chest to calm your fast beating heart.

“My alarm. I have a morning shift.” You moaned, tossing your phone back on the counter and standing up from the bed. Miguel blinked twice before getting up with you. He reached out his hand to grab yours in an attempt to stop you.

“Woah, woah, hey–what’s the rush?” He asked, turning you around and cupping your cheek. “We can at least have these couple minutes, can’t we?” His voice dropped an octave, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. Miguel tried to kiss downwards but you stopped him, albeit unwillingly.

“Amor, you know damn well how Nueva York’s traffic is in the morning. I’m not gonna be late and get my ass in trouble ‘cause you can’t keep it in your pants.” You slipped from his arms with a playful roll of your eyes and walked to the kitchen. Miguel scoffed, slightly offended, his eyes watching you walk away and looking down at your ass.

“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it.” He grumbled, looking down at the tent in his boxers wondering what to do with it now.

For the next week, it had been nothing but just pure torture. With the month making you and Miguel work away from each other, this week was stretching that limit. When Miguel worked in the morning, you’d work at night and vice versa. Each time without fail, you managed to slip in a few teasing touches. Waking up Miguel by sitting on his lap and peppering kisses on his cheeks with his hands grinding your hips down on his hardening cock. Miguel cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze when you came home from work while he was on his way out. Both of you were on the brink of breaking by this point. These small acts were supposed to tame the fire within you, not burn it brighter.

Eventually, it was finally your day off after a long weekend. A break from customer service and passing out as soon as you got home. Miguel had work today but he texted earlier that he’d get off on the hour he was supposed to this time around. You felt bad. He’d been working so hard and today had been no different. He took a shift earlier than usual so he could come home earlier without anyone being there to suddenly ask for him to stay. Lord knows he’s pushing those forty hours into overtime.

From the bedroom, you heard the door open, keys jingling as it was turned to unlock it. You got up from the bed and peered out the door, seeing Miguel kicking off his shoes and coat while tossing his bag carelessly on the living room chair. “Welcome home.” You greeted him. He dragged his feet closer to you with his head down, the top buttons on his white button up were popped open, exposing a glimpse of his collarbone. Miguel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a comforting hug. You followed suit, hugging him back since you sensed he probably had a rough day. He hummed in response, settling for resting his chin on your head. You stayed like that for a while just holding one another until you felt his hand run under your shirt to feel your soft skin against his calloused hands. They continued up and up your spine until your shirt was lifting up with him. “Miguel.”

“What?” He grumbled. One hand slid down under your pants, getting a quick feel of your ass and pulling your pelvis to him. You gasped and tightened your hold around him, feeling the warmth of arousal ignite in your stomach. “I need to have you. I can’t wait any longer.” His soft touching became more possessive, roughly grabbing your ass and tugging on your shirt and pants.

“Miguel.” You repeated his name, this time in a whimper. Your own hands slipped down his collared shirt and lightly scratched your nails on his large back which made him shiver. He pulled back and you saw his eyes hazed with desire, pupils blown wide.

“Please…” He whispered, his lips brushing up against yours. Your hands fell to his buttoned shirt as you looked up at him. Your heart raced in your chest–the sheer want of having you all to himself finally after weeks was too good to pass up. You nodded and the pleading look on Miguel’s face dropped as he immediately bent down to kiss you. You let out a squeak of surprise between his lips right before giving into his needs and kissing him back.

He tugged your pants down to your ankles before lifting you out of the puddle of clothes and bringing you to the bed. Once you were laid on top, you watched Miguel fumble with his belt. His large hands quickly unhooked the metal making it chime and the soft zipping sound of the leather sliding out his belt loops. He practically ripped himself free from his clothes, not even unbuttoning his shirt and just lifted it up and off his torso. You saw his girthy length, standing tall and proud with a slight red color tinged at his tip while the rest of him was a slighter darker color than his skin. His tip was already oozing with precum. A sight you had always welcomed. It became clear to you that Miguel had been thinking about this for a while–maybe all day. Miguel crawled on top of you, helping you out of your shirt and underwear and kissing you again while his hands roamed your body.

“I’ve waited so long. Did you miss me like how I missed you, cariño?” He sighed between your lips. Your hands clutched his shoulders, one leg hooking around his waist.

“Always.” You whimpered back.

“On your knees. Now.” He growled. You felt your heart skip a beat, another heartbeat going straight to your core. Stumbling, you got off your back and got on your hands and knees like Miguel wanted. This position has always made you flustered. It was both embarrassing and exhilarating not seeing what Miguel could do to you, or even get to put your hands on him–solely relying on feeling.

Perfect timing, his hands met your ass, grabbing them and massaging them. “So perfect,” He murmured. His finger grazed your aching hole where you were the most sensitive, purposefully teasing the nerves on your body. He took pleasure in the way you writhed beneath him, succumbing to his hand. His thick cock rubbed up against you, smearing his leaking fluid on you for even better access. Then ever so slowly, gliding in his fat weeping tip inside and penetrating your walls.

You both moaned in unison. The feeling of being stuffed was like finally feeling that last puzzle piece snap in place. “Uff, fuck–I’ve missed you,” He groaned, his breath shaking as he leaned over your body. His one hand held the headboard in front of him while his other hand held the plushness of your hip tightly. Miguel’s body was shaking as he entered you slowly, stretching you out after a long time of not seeing each other like this. You whimpered, falling from your hands onto your elbows as you shook with him. “Ease up, cariño, así es.” He praised, leaning back to watch his cock disappear inside you. His pride swelled at how easily he seemed to slide in you even after so long, his mouth curling into a sly smirk.

“Mi–guel…” You choked out a moan. You whined and gripped the pillow underneath your head tightly in your fists. You had forgotten just how huge Miguel was, his covered bulge was nothing compared to the real thing. Panting, you heard your heartbeat in your ears, turning your head to rest your cheek on the pillow.

Miguel’s hand left the headboard by this point, choosing instead to rest on your back, running down the curve of your spine to press your head down. You whimpered and clenched around him which made him let out a string of curses under his breath. You felt him push himself to the hilt, his balls gently smacking against the curve of your ass. He groaned, his hand on your head gripped your hair to still himself from pounding you immediately. The two of you stood there, breathing heavily while you felt each other. You could feel him throbbing inside you, twitching ever so softly. Miguel bit his lip to hinder himself from cumming on the spot with your walls convulsing around him, weakly attempting to suck him in deeper.

You wiggled your hips, bucking them back against Miguel with a pathetic whine. “M-move…plea–” You got cut off when Miguel slipped out of you, and then he slammed back inside making you scream and shake. He then began a steady pace, enough for movement but not as quick as you wanted. Still, you mewled and clutched at the sheets while his cock was ravaging your guts. The hand on your hip wrapped around your lower stomach, his bicep flexing as he held your weight up to fuck your from behind.

“Too long. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve fucked this needy hole properly.” Miguel sighed, huffing with each thrust of his hips. Your eyes rolled back and your jaw slacked open. Skin slapping echoed in the room along with the wet smack of sweat between your bodies. It was a symphony of lust and desire. An aching instinct to be reunited like this. You pleaded for more–a little quicker, a little harder– and Miguel who loved you so much didn’t want to deny either of you this ecstasy. He then used both hands to grab onto your hips and started to drag your body back and forth on his dick, drilling himself in you like a toy. Miguel used up all his frustrations of not being able to see you all this time, his eyes drinking in your writhing form while he bucked into you abandonly.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck–Miguel…!” You squealed, involuntarily squeezing him which made me grunt and buck his hips faster. You babbled nonsense while your core bubbled up the feeling of an orgasm. You screwed your eyes shut as you allowed Miguel to hump against you. He leaned over you again, pressing kisses on your back, murmuring things you could barely hear over the sound of your own moans.

Suddenly, Miguel had pulled out again leaving you feeling empty and light headed while the feeling of an impending orgasm disappeared. He let go of you, your hips bouncing on the bed without the support of his strength holding you up. You opened up your eyes, glazed with pleasure and shakily tried to look behind you. Before you could, Miguel took your body and flipped you on your back. It all happened quickly before you could even register what was happening. He took your legs and tugged your body closer to him like a ragdoll. He spread them wide then pressed them up against your chest. You lolled your head up and you saw his fringe had fallen to his forehead, sticking to it with his sweat. His chest was heaving up and down, the glow of the moonlight highlighting the carvings of his muscles perfectly–it made your breath hitch.

Miguel then loomed over you, nuzzling his head into your neck again. You leaned your head to the side making him gain more access to you. His teeth bit your soft flesh, his lips suckling your skin to leave tiny bruises along the side. “Ah–” You squirmed and gasped when you felt Miguel slide back into you again. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, your hand running through his already messy hair. You pressed his head closer, your eyes opening up hazily to stare at the ceiling while Miguel starts his pace again.

“So tight, just f’me, hm? You have no idea how much–” He moaned in between speaking, the lust clouding his mind. “H-how much I needed you. I should’ve just brought you to work, bend you over my desk and fuck you however long I want,” He shuddered at the thought, his hips stuttering while you whimpered and arched your back off the bed. “Oh, you like that?” He grinned, his voice oozing with arrogance. You nodded, your eyes shutting closed again and desperately lifting your hips to match his thrusting.

“Next time, bebé, next time. I promise. You’re doing so, so, good. You feel so good.” He slurred softly, his hips snapped harder, his cock twitching and swelling inside you.

“Mig–Mig–I can’t,” You moaned, your screams getting louder the harder Miguel went. “Oh, god, Miguel!” Miguel kissed you, swallowing all your moans while he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist the moment he let go of your thighs. His hands traveled around your body, feeling the shape of your silhouette back into his memory. He grabbed at anything he could hold onto before curling around your ass for a small squeeze.

He pulled away from the kiss, breaths mingling for a moment until Miguel rested his forehead on your shoulder. Your hands raked down his back and you dug your nails into his giant back, leaving streaks of red in their wake from scratching him. He moaned from it–the pain only adding to his pleasure-fueled mind. Miguel peppered kisses on your shoulder, making his way down to your chest.

“Miguel, I’m so close–so, so close…” You whimpered.

“I know, ángel, me… me too. Solo enfocate en mí, hm? Just let me have you.” He pleaded, his rough moans turning into whimpering as he neared his end. You responded with a weak ‘uh-huh’ then clinging onto Miguel for support.

He murmured in a jumble of Spanish and English, his breath hot on your neck while you screamed and pleaded for more, how good it felt, anything to get both of you going. Miguel lifted your lower half up, relentlessly pounding into you while he cursed lowly, burying his head in your shoulder again. You felt the bubble in your abdomen about to snap.

“Miguel, I–!” You tried warning him but instead the waves of your orgasm flooded your body, cumming on Miguel and making a mess between your legs. You twitched around him, milking his cock for all it’s worth. Your legs shook until you went limp, fucked out of your mind. Miguel whined, speeding up to catch his own release.

“Fuck–!” He moaned, feeling his cock pump out his creamy fat load inside you, painting your walls white. Miguel’s entire body tensed up, stilling up against you while he slowly came down from the high. His strokes gradually slowed down, pumping the final ropes of cum, while he softened inside you, huffing and puffing with you. He shakily but carefully pulled out of you after a few moments. You whimpered when he completely left you with a soft wet shlick.

Miguel fell beside you, exhausted and spent. Still, he reached for you, bringing your shivering body in his arms. You curled yourself in his chest weakly, feeling his hand play with your hair. He kissed your forehead, basking in each other's afterglow. He brought the covers up over you two for some extra warmth.

“I’ll…get us cleaned up in the morning…” He huffed with a tired smile. You grunted in response, too numb to speak but satisfied nonetheless.

can you tell this is my first smut? hahaaaa dontanswerthatillcry

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oval3000 · 6 months

Text

Chapter 2

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

-------------------------------------------------------

Jacob slammed one of the medicine drawers close after getting the bottle of pills from a specific patient. "I don't know what miracle came down here, but we haven't had an accident in a month." He said to a fellow nurse standing next to him.

"Don't jinx it," she said grabbing the pill bottle from his hands.

"You know," he stared at your section, watching as you typed what you needed into the computer," ever since she started working here, König hasn't bashed anyone's heads."

"Well it's only been a month since she started working here, I wouldn't be relieved yet." She said, popping two pills into a Dixie cup.

"Yeah well I'm very optimistic about this." He got up and walked away. "Oh if the drawer gets stuck again, just bang on it a few times."

"It would be better if they just get new ones," she sighed, walking away towards her row of patients.

He rolled his eyes, "please they're too stingy to buy new bed sheets."

You have been working here for a month and so far everything was okay. You do what you need to do and things go smoothly.

As for König, he hasn't said or do anything towards you. You honestly felt like they were fooling you by telling you all those stories about his past nurses and guards.

You learned more about the staff names on all floors. König's two guards are named Eli and Gabriel. They both make sure that nothing happens to you aswell as any other staff.

You met Dr. Smith. You first impression of her was a little stiff. Mainly because she was direct and serious. She doesn't really make small talk to any of the nurses only the administrator. She also doesn't really fond of you. Well it's not like she hates you, is more of she critics anything you do. From the way you gather the medical supplies to the way you check patients vitals. During her visit with König, you stay outside the room so you don't know what goes on in there.

You saw when she exited the room alongside Eli and Gabriel, taking König back to his room. You didn't need to look up to know that Dr. Smith was walking towards, her heels made it obvious. "He will no longer take his usual calming medication, he'll take this one." She gave you the doctors order.

"benzodiazepines?" He was fine with his usual one.

She looked at you with her eyebrows forward "Yes. Is there a problem."

"Wouldn't the short term use cause him more problems compared to how he is now. I mean, he's been doing good lately and his oth-'

"Are you a doctor (Y/n)?" She tilted her head as she gives you a serious stern look.

"No."

"Right, I call shots for what is good for my patients. So if I tell you to order his new medicine then you order his new medicine! Is there a problem!?" Her high pitch tone caused the other nurses to look at you.

You look around mentally slapping yourself in the face. Of course she knows more than you, you are just a nurse. "No, Dr. Smith. I'll order them asap."

"Good. Make sure that his primary physician knows about it too and next time you question me, go back to school to get a lab coat. You are a nurse, you do what I say."

She left leaving the echo of her heels scraping the white tile floors. You cursed under your breath while picking up the phone. Calling in orders for prescription is a pain in the ass. Well the hospital it is, you're not familiar with a psychiatric hospital. The last thing you need is to be at hold for three hours trying to get it through.

"We need medical attention at room #526!" You heard Eli. You quickly ran to König's room and saw Gabriel on the floor, holding his mouth as blood was coming out. You turned your head to take a look at König. He was standing there with blood on his nuckles. He's tall, you never got a good look on how tall he was. This man is a mountain an actual mountain.

"What happened?" Jacob entered in seeing the mess.

"I need gauze pads and bandages.' You said holding onto Gabriel. König saw as you attended him. You're his nurse not Gabriel's. You should be attending König not him. The other guards came in to help Gabriel getting up while the others trying to hold König down. Jacob came in with the medical tray. He flicked a needle, trying to get any air bubbles out. You got up as they took Gabriel out, "what are you doing?"

"Everytime he does this, we have to put him down" He made his way towards König while two other guards were trying to hold him down. Compared to the guards themselves they looked like little children against König.

You went in front of Jacob, "You don't have to do that. It will make him think more irrationally. Please he is my patient."

He lowered the needle down giving you a sigh, "Fine. I'll go make a report. But you still can't be here unless two guards are present."

"Okay." The two guards let König's arms go.

Eli and Jacob left to talk to the administrator. You picked up the gauze pads and bandage from the trey.

You haven't made eye contact with König. You've always been too nervous about that, but you had to see him to examine him. You saw him, you saw his face. He had stuble. His features are strong and sharp, his jawline looks like it can cut anybody. He had scars on his face one through his mouth and the other one through his eye. His eyes are blue a nice clear blue, which stood out against his dark under circles. He was probably the most handsome patient you have ever seen. No, not patient, the most handsome men you have ever seen.

You walk towards him, slowly. You looked up to him, your face aligned to his torso . His white t-shirt was snuged and hugged all his curves on his abdomen. You can see the outline of his perfect abs and chest area. His biceps make it look the arm holes of his shirt are going to pop open. His hair was a perfect shade of brown, almost golden. Like before, it wasn't long or short, it was a good length, enough to make a little lazy ponytail.

You stuck out your hand as he placed his on top of yours. Your hand looks barley visible compared to his. You took a peace of gauze and dabbed it on his bloody nuckle. He didn't have any wounds from the punch he gave grabriel. If anything, the blood you are wiping away is Gabriel's.

König stared at you. He saw how concentrated you are with him, how gentle you are with him and how carring you are to him. The fact that you stood up for him from getting sedated, it was a like a call for him that you are his officially.

I mean he did it for you. No one knows the other half the story, they always accuse of the one that looks guilty. When Eli and Gabriel went to take him back to his room, König heard the comments they made about you. All the comments made by Gabriel.

Sure, Gabriel is nice to you, but he looks like a jerk and he is one. He's nice to you, but behind your back he thinks you are an object. Talking about how he wants to take you, not for a date, but for a nice dinner so that he can fuck you later in his car and most likely never talk to you again afterwards...unless he's desperate for sex again

König couldn't let that slide. Talking about you like a sex toy. Talking about you like you don't have emotions. Yes, König has killed men and women that don't really deserve it, but you. Someone that stood up for him. That attends when he needs or wants something. He wanted Jell-O during lunch, but no one was giving him one. Then you came inside the dining room and saw that he didn't have Jell-O like the rest so you gave him one. It's like you read his mind. You don't deserve to be treated this way. It reminds him of himself when he was a kid.

Being bullied for just being nice, for being who he is. He wants to protect you that's all he wanted to do. So he punch Gabriel after hearing his plan to seduce and fuck you then leaving you alone for yourself without a care in the world. He was easy, just one punch and he was down on floor holding his bloody mouth.

You cleaned him up and sat him down on his bed. He wanted to grab your waist and pull you closer to him. To kiss you as a thank you.

He was never lucky with the women, who would be with someone who's a looser. He remembers the time in high-school when girls will ask him out only to laugh at his face when he thought they were serious. Before he left to go to the military he met a girl. The girl just wanted some free drinks so she talked into him for some free stuff. He lost his virginity to her and felt as if he found the one. But to her he was her wallet, a way to get free things and rides for her and her friends. He bought her flowers, teddy bears, chocolates. Took her out to romantic dates that he tried so hard to assemble. Only to walk in on her having sex with another men, in his bedroom on his bed in his place that he pays for. He hoped that she was just drunk or scared..maybe, but no.

"Seriously König, you thought that I cared about you? I mean you are not even good at sex. I was just using you for the free stuff. I just wanted free drinks jeez! It's not my fault you couldn't take a hint."

He saw how they both laughed at his face. How they both just sat there naked, laughing at him as if he was the punchline to a joke.

"Believe me I never wanted this to happen! Especially after getting that dam abortion. But it doesn't matter cause you paid for it."

She wanted money to buy a new dress. She used it to have an abortion. He felt tears running down his face. They didn't feel bad, no, they laughed harder at him at how pathetic he was.

"Why would I even be with a looser."

He remembered how those kids would push him down the slide. How they would rip away his comic books. How they broke everyone one of his toys.

"Looser!"

"Looser!Looser!"

his fist turned white, he felt his fingernails, cutting deep into his palm. The girl he thought was the one was taunting him along his boy toy. He walked up to them. They expected him to bawl like a baby and beg for an apology. Instead, he choked her. His hands gripped tight around her neck. He felt some punches coming from her boy toy, telling König to stop, to let her go.

He saw as the life of her eyes went away. He heard as her neck cracked and dropped her back on the bed. He turned the guy, choking him to death aswell.

He hid the bodies, ran away, joined the military and found a new way to live.

You heard other male voices coming from the elevator and the administrator coming in. "What happened!?"

"He attacked Gabriel." You said to him, you saw what was behind him, other doctors.

"Put him in a straitjacket." He pointed to König

"What no!" You said getting in between him and König.

"Excuse me!?"

"Putting him in a straitjacket isn't going to solve anything."

He crossed his arms while looking down at you "Doing nothing will solve nothing, (Y/n)!"

You turned to König who had a stoic expression "I know, but I'm sure there are oth-"

"What are you again, (Y/n)?" he blurted out.

You knew where this is going. Twice in one day, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "A nurse."

He gave you a small smirk, the same one Dr. Smith gave you. "Exactly. A nurse. I'm your superior, you don't get to tell me what to do. Your job is to take his vitals, and give him medication not to throw orders around! Do I make myself clear!" He stepped closer to you. You wanted to back away, but you felt frozen. He was directly infront of your face. "Now, move aside so we can our jobs!"

You looked down on the floor. You never felt so light headed as you did now. The other voices coming from them were echoes. You felt nausea and sweating. Your heart felt like it was pounding from your chest, but it sounded like a blur. "S-sorry.. sir." You always feel week when people yell at you.

"Next time you do something like that, you're out of here, (Y/n). " He said as you all watched König being put in a straitjacket.

The administrator, Ben, saw König. He was taken back a bit. The look he gave him. As if he was killing him right on the spot. König no longer had the stoic expression, he gave him a death stare.

Who does he think he is to yell at you for being nice to him. To threatened her. They are all the same. Everyone here is all same. The same kids that shoved him around the boys bathroom when he was 10. The same as those girls that laughed at him that laughed at his face.

But instead of him being the victim, is you. You're so weak and innocent, how can someone treat you like that.

But it's okay because you'll have König by his side. He'll make sure to save you.

To care for you.

To love you.

To make you his.

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