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oval3000 · 5 months

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Yandere CEO Miguel O'Hara x Reader

part 2

Warning: Toxic behavior, age gap, Violence, death, daddy kink, very toxic, smut, porn with a little plot, grumpy Miguel. Modern au- ish. The reader understands Spanish.

Part 1

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Everything was dark. There was no light going through. No daylight, no artificial light in the house. Everything was sitting still with silence. The curtains were now a shade of blue as some of the walls from the moon shone through.

No one here, no one around to hear. The big luxurious house sits alone in a fancy community. Not gate, Miguel hates gated communities. Having to deal with the guy a front, he hates. However, with a fancy home comes a community where each house is isolated with big gardens, separate garages, Big beautiful trees all around the green yards, and piles of roses making plain bushes look pretty.

The bedroom was closed shut. Clothes are on the floor. The outfit that you picked out for the third date was now all over the bedroom, hardwood floors.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of wet skin squelching, You sat on your back on Miguel's torso with his legs and your legs spread wide open. Your head was resting near his shoulder as one of your hands was holding onto his neck while the other was clutching the bedsheets beneath you. Your eyes were blindfolded with one of his black ties.

This is the second time he has pleasured you. The second time the both of you are naked, making love while some call just straight-up porn. Miguel wanted to play with you. He wanted to play with something that was his.

His middle finger and ring finger were so deep inside you, rubbing your walls with his fingertips. He wanted so deep that he wanted to break off his fingers. He was so drunk with your pussy, he wanted to dive in and destroy it.

After the romantic date, that he planned and did, ended, he brought you back home. He didn't tell you that he wanted to have sex with you. He didn't give you any type of warning that he wanted to rip off your clothes. The second you guys went was spent ended with watching a movie and sleeping while cuddling. Now here you are after the third date, laying there with your legs spread open while he was fucking your pussy with his long, thick fingers. He's so big and fit that you forgot how much it came to pleasure above all and beyond.

Your moans were so turning him on, it was making him even more horny. He was so horny. After the date, you went to the bedroom and started to change into your pj's when he came from behind wrapped his tie around your eyes, and blindfolded you.

He told you that he wanted to take care of you and make you feel good like he did before. You got him addicted to this.

"You're so warm, cariño." he felt his fingers getting wet with how much he was playing with your pussy. "You like my fingers, don't you. Is this pussy mine, baby?"

He watched as you squirm with his touch inside you. "Y-yes!~...Ahh!...oh~....."

"Yes, what." He stopped moving his fingers.

"Yes! Daddy!...Ah! This pussy is yours!`...Oh.." You moaned out. He didn't pump his finger, he was just playing with your insides which made you act crazy. He moved again. The teasing made you feel more hot.

"I want you to gush on my fingers, reina. I want you to cum. Cum for me baby." He moved his fingers faster than before. The sound of your pussy getting slapped around made him roll his eyes back.

"Ahh! Oh.....Miguel!" You screamed feeling a wave coming through. Squirting all over his fingers, coating them, and drenching them with your juices. He took his fingers out and gave a few flicks on your clit which made you spray even more, "Ah!Ah~"

"Que chula es mi reina." He gave you a kiss on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing you could only feel him shift and move around.

You felt your back on the bed and his presence on top of you. He went under your wet pussy, feeling his hot breath near. He kissed your thighs and moaned, making it vibrate. "I want to taste you, mi amor."

Your hands were gripping on the bedsheets as went in a started to suck your clit with his mouth. You felt the vibration going through with the moan he let out.

His touch was everything. He made you so high that you couldn't remember anything. You couldn't even remember your name. The only name you were moaning out was, "Miguel~...Miguel!~...Ohhh~ Miguel!!"

That night, he fucked you. He came inside you so many times that you felt so bloated with his seemed. He pleasured you so many times that it made you forget. His pleasure made you forget.

You were honestly grateful that you listened to your ob-gyn a couple years ago about birth control. You never planned on having sex, you just wanted to fix your period pain. Even though the IUD was a freaking pain to be inserted that you felt like dying, you never knew that it would come in handy.

As days went by, his lawyers came to the house and discussed more of the marriage license. He told them that you were ready to sign. When you told him that it's a bit early for you to get married, he quickly snapped at you.

Now that the paper was in front of you and the pen was in your hand, you realized how real this was. How everything was. You'll be married to this man. You'll now be Mrs. O'hara.

His lawyers were talking to him about the more paperwork that you'll be doing since you have to change your last name. You stared at the paper trying to read it, but the only thing you could see was the blurriness and your heartbeat taking over your brain.

"What's wrong, mi amor."Miguel placed his hand on your back. You stared at him and saw his face. The man that you'll wake to for the rest of your life.

You remembered the night you told him that you weren't ready. He screamed at you. "N-nothing." You wrote your signature on the dotted line.

Paperwork after paperwork, you are finally married to Miguel O'Hara. The lawyers and a private judge, who's one of Miguel's friends, congratulated Miguel and left. "What's the matter, mi amor. You're so quiet."

"I just didn't plan to be married right away. I thought I was." You looked at him and images of him grabbing you and dragging you to the bedroom, yelling at you that you will marry him no matter what. His pleasures make you forget." Nothing, I...I'm happy."

"Are you still not sure about the marriage." He got closer to you. "Because if you aren't sure."

"No!..N-no I am sure! I'm happy." You said to him.

His mouth turned to a smile. "Good! how about we go to the bedroom and have a moment as newlyweds." He kissed your neck. "We could start having a little bundle of joy." He placed his hand on your stomach.

"I think we should wait first. We just got married and we should enjoy ourselves before-" You couldn't finish your sentence.

His red crimson eyes stared at you, "You don't want kids? Because if you don't want kids," he held your waist a little too tight, "then."

"I-I do!" You whinced at how hard he was gripping your waist. "I just thought-"

"You thought wrong. We're going to have kids and we are ready for it. Trust me, once we get a little ñiño or ñiña then you will see that you've always been ready." He grabbed your hand and dragged you back to the bedroom.

Tell him about the birth control! You heard a voice in your head. Don't tell him! You should bear his child! You shouldn't! He gave you everything! You should still enjoy your life first! You're his wife! Kids can be a handful! You're being ungrateful! You deserve better!

His pleasure made you forget.

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"I made an appointment to check our fertility." Miguel tossed his phone on the couch and sat next to you. "We have it tomorrow, early morning, okay."

It's been five months since the both of you have been trying. You were shocked that the birth control was holding on strong.

Every night, he would fuck you deep inside. Sometimes he would fuck you rough. On other nights, he would fuck you gently. There are times when you would go to sleep early to avoid it, but then you'll feel him on top of you, fucking you.

You eventually told him that you might get pregnant if you guys take it slow and don't spend all night in bed naked. You told him that your body needed to rest maybe that's why you couldn't get pregnant.

Your heart was racing. You were panicking. You couldn't shed a night's sleep at all.

When you felt the sun shining through, you felt your stomach getting heavy. You had to use the bathroom to relieve yourself of how nervous you were. You felt so nauseous that your legs couldn't start jiggling up and down.

You heard him waking up, so you quickly cleaned yourself up and got ready for the day.

He put on a casual blue shirt and some jeans. You tried to urge him to not miss work, but he replied by saying that he's the boss and that missing a day won't harm him or the company. You looked at the clock as the time was getting close for the appointment.

Just tell him! Maybe he'll understand! you thought to yourself. You lied to him. You have been lying to him for five months. "Let's go." He got up from the armchair and headed downstairs.

You followed him from behind. Your cuticles were starting to bleed with how much you were picking on them. "Wait, Miguel."

He turned around, "What?"

"We can't go." You said. He stood in front of you. He was so tall and broad that it started to frighten you. "There's nothing wrong with us."

"What do you mean?" He asked. You shook your head. Why are you so scared? Stop being scared? You told yourself. Your eyes were getting watery. "(Y/N)?"

You looked at him, "I'm......I'm on birth control." You looked at his face and saw how angry he got.

His face was no longer the usual face he made. His eyes were darting right at yours."What!"

"I've been on birth control for two years now. I got it when I first turned 18. I'm sorry. I should've told you, I'm sorry." You explained to him.

"If you were on birth control then why didn't you tell me!" He yelled at you.

"I don't want to have kids now. I'm not ready. Miguel please," You cried to him. "Migue-"

"Pills or inserted?" He asked. "Answer me!"

"It's an IUD." You replied.

He took your hand and pulled you towards the front door. "They'll take it out."

"Wait! Miguel! I'm not ready! Please! Please don't do this to me!" You sobbed to him, trying to get free from his grip. You pulled your body away from him but his strength was easily overpowering yours.

He turned to you and grabbed your face. "No! You don't get to do this to me! You've been lying to me! This entire time I thought that we couldn't have kids, but now you're telling me that you are on birth control!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried out.

"I don't want to hurt you. I really don't want to hurt you." He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.

"Please don't hurt me! I'm so sorry!" You felt his grip so tight on you.

"Your privileges are over. You're no longer going outside. You no longer have access online. We're going to get that thing remove and once it's done, I'm going to fuck you day and night. I don't care about your pleas. I don't care what you say, I'm going to put babies inside you." He dragged you back to the bedroom and threw you on the bed.

He called the doctor and told him that the visit was now going to be a home visit. The doctor came in and removed the IUD from your body. When the doctor left, Miguel went in and did what he told you.

The only difference was that he wasn't gentle. He wasn't calling you sweet names like he did. Instead, his wordplay was more...degrading. Calling you a bitch or a slut.

Every day, he'll fuck you. Any chance, he'll bend you over; whether it was the kitchen counter, the bedroom, or even the bathroom, he'll bend you over and fuck you.

One night, he was rougher than ever. He was fucking you deep and hard. He was making you tear up. "Ah!...Mhmm~ Ngh!...Fucking bitch! take my fucking cock! Fucking whore!" He thrust in and out.

He pressed your head on the pillow with your ass up in the air, "Ah!...I- Fuck! I'm going to put a baby in there! fuck~" He will slap your ass and continue to fuck you ignoring your sobs to tell him to stop.

That morning, he was gone when you woke up. You went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. You felt the water running down your body. You sat on the floor and cried your feelings out.

When he came home, he opened the bedroom door and started to undress himself. You lay on the bed, hearing his belt buckle hitting the floor. You were staring away from him, covering yourself in blankets. You covered your face, letting out a cry. "Please." You sat up and stared at him with desperation. "Please. You're hurting me."

"I'm doing what's best for us." He said.

You sobbed. You cried and cried. "You're not seeing what you're doing to me! You're hurting me! You said that you'll love me! You said that you won't hurt me!" He got on the bed and got closer to you. "No. No...NO! NO! STOP! STOP! NO! NO!" you kicked and pushed until you felt your hand slapping him across his face. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

You ran to the bathroom and closed the door. You locked the door and ran to the tub. You got in and curled yourself into a ball. You could hear his knocks and calls out for you.

"I-I'm sorry baby. Please open the door. I didn't mean to hurt you." He said it in a concerned tone. He never meant to hurt you. He didn't. He never realized what he had done. "Carño..Por…porfavor… I want to see you, please. I need to know that you're okay. Mi amor." He wanted you to hit him back to get back at him for not realizing how much damage he had caused you. That was never his intention. He never wanted you to be scared of him. The way you looked at him, the screams you made It sounded and looked like you were going to be killed. It was a wake-up call to Miguel, to finally get some sense and see what he had done. "I'll let you do whatever you want. If you want to go outside, I'll take you. I'll take you wherever you want to go. If you want to hit me, then hit me and punch me. I just want to see you. Porfavor! Carñino! Abra la puerta."

You never answered him back. You stayed in the bathroom for hours and hours. Eventually, those hours turned into days.

Miguel, every day, kept talking to you and telling you to open the door, but there was nothing. He was getting worried. The only response he got from you was when he saw that the food he left out was eaten, so at least he knows that you're still alive. He would leave out a blanket, pillows, and some fresh new clothes so you could at least be comfortable. He doesn't know if you are ever going to forgive him and he doesn't blame you.

At work, he hardly concentrated because all of his thoughts were of you. When he comes home from work, he'll stare at the door contemplating if he should knock the door down or wait until you are ready.

"Mi amor," he said softly. "Perdoname…Perdoname…Porfavor." he sat down on the floor near the door. "I won't force you. I won't do those things to you. Please, open the door. If you don't want to have kids now, then I'll wait till you're ready. I was so eager to start a family that I didn't think about how you'd feel. I'm sorry." he rested his head on the door. "I'm sorry for not listening to you," he closed his eyes, feeling guilty for all the things he had until he remembered the other little things he committed. The murder of your mother. Does he feel guilty for that? Not really.

"You won't hurt me?" You finally said, softly.

He opened his eyes wide open. "Mi Amor? No. I won't hurt you, I promise. I promise baby. I swear to you. I swear to everything that I won't hurt you ever again. Let me in, please." He heard the door unlock and moved his body to turn towards it. When he saw the door open, he finally saw you and you saw him on his knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his head on your stomach. "I love you. I love you. I love you. Te amo, mi amor. Te amo mucho. I'll never hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. Not you. I'll do anything you want me to do, but please forgive me. I can't live without you. I can't live without you. I can't. I can't. I refuse to live without you. I love you so fucking much. Mi Vida. Mi Sol. Mi Cielo. Eres todo para mi. I don't care if the world ends as long as I'm with you, I'll be the happiest man alive. Mi Princesa. Mi Reina. Mi Amor." He kissed your stomach, your hands, your arms, your legs, he trailed his way up to you and cupped your cheeks. "I love you so much, I'll burn this planet down so it can just be the two of us."

"You really hurt me, Miguel." You said to him.

"I know. I know, princess. I hurt you so much and you didn't deserve it. The things I'd done to you. The things I've said. If I ever even dare to say any of those things to you again, kill me. Shoot me in the head. I'd rather be dead than hurt you ever again. I love you." He pulled you into a hug, feeling you in his arms. "I love you, Mi amor."

You felt his warmth once again. His touch. His gentle touch. "I love you too."

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The cold was settling in. The snow was covering the roads and sidewalks. Kids are out building snowmen and angels. Christmas lights are out and colorful shining through the city.

The local church with many kids and parents getting hot cocoa, warm blankets, and jackets. Helpers handing out gifts to kids. Light Christmas music playing on the speakers.

You rubbed your hands together to get a bit of warmth. "Mi amor, I told you to bring your mittens, you're gonna get cold." You turned to Miguel who was getting a pair of mittens from his dark brown coat. "Here," He took your hands and put on the warm mittens. Your warm mittens. "Mi vida." He placed a kiss on your forehead.

He went back to hand parents hot cocoa or tea and kids some presents. Many kids were surrounding him as they thanked him. They were talking to him about how cool the gifts were. He gave their parents, who didn't have a car, a gift box with their new car keys inside. He gave single moms a free two-day spa ticket they could use alongside a professional babysitter's phone number, who could watch their kids free of charge. Of course, Miguel is the one paying for all of this. A true hero for the people.

You handed out bags of candy to kids and saw how big their smiles grew. Family taking pictures with a Christmas tree behind them. You never had a true Christmas day. The first year you spent with Miguel in the house and your mom, Miguel was in his office all day while your mother was partying it out. You remember when Miguel knocked on your bedroom door and gave you a diamond necklace, matching bracelet, and earrings. The second time was just you and him. He gave you a gorgeous dress ( that matches your style perfectly). And now here you are, giving presents to the people in need. Looks like there were signs all along.

When the night ended, the both of you went home. Miguel told you about the New Year's Eve party at the company. You couldn't pay attention because all you could think of was the faces those kids made. The way they were so happy about the littlest things. The way Miguel was so gentle with them. The way they all played with each other.

The New Year's Eve party was nice with all the scientists and workers gathering together and talking about their latest project. Everyone was talking to Miguel about his work and the intervention of how far everything has gone with science and technology. Miguel introduced you to everyone as his wife. The fact that you felt yourself blush over that was something.

He kept you close to him and always held your hand everywhere you both went. Even if he wasn't there, the two guards are there to protect you. Miguel then gave a speech to everyone as a thank you for their hard work and dedication for their long hours of using their knowledge to further enhance the evolution of people's health.

The car ride was comfortable as you listened to music that felt nostalgic. Miguel blasted the radio, placing his hand on your thigh the entire ride back home.

"It's so freaking cold outside, but I tried to warn them about this." He took off his pants and shirt. "We're busting our asses to maintain a functional solution for this polluted crisis." He put on some gray sweats and a plain white t-shirt. "Shortly, all of this will be over, and we'll have normal winters and easy summers." He walked over to the bed and saw you sitting in your chair with your vanity spaced out. "Are you okay, mi amor?"

You snapped from your thoughts and looked at him. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Is everything alright? You spaced out. I know science can be boring and can make people drive off." He continued to talk, removing the pillow to lift up the blanket.

"I think I'm ready." You told him. Miguel stopped what he was saying and what he was doing. He stared at you with his mouth hung open. "I want a baby."

It was cold. The air was making things freeze outside. The cold roads were turning into ice, making it slippery.

The only thing that was making everything warm was the body heat you both were creating.

Miguel was sitting on the armchair with his legs spread open. He had his hands on your back, holding you tightly. His face was buried into your chest, kissing it, leaving hickeys all over. He lifted you up and down so gently and sensual. He ran his hands all over your body as you are on top of him, pussy deep into his cock.

You moaned out the pleasure of his cock hitting your cervix making your head tilt back. He lifted you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He, gently, placed you on the bed and continued to thrust into you. He placed his hands on yours and intervened his fingers with yours holding each other's hands. He kissed you so passionately and deep it made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

He lowered his body closer to yours rested his head on your neck and picked up the pace with his thrust. Your hands were on his back feeling his cock drilling you in and out. His moans and grunts entered into your ear and were mixed with your orgasms. His soft moans turned into words that made you feel good. "I~ I love you...Ah!~...I love you, mi amor."

He made love to you. He made you remember.

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The crisp, orange leaves fell down and landed on the green yards all over. People put their carved pumpkins out on their porches. Horror films are being played on TV. Halloween decorations are being put everywhere. Spooky music fills the air through the loudspeakers. The fresh air hit your face as you ate all the pretzal bites you bought. Your two guards were holding two cups of pigs in a blanket and more pretzel bites while walking aside from you.

you threw the now empty cup into the trash bin and entered the store. You looked through and found all the cute things that made you smile.

You ate the rest of the pretzal bites on the way back home. You placed the shopping bags on the couch and went towards the kitchen. You saw the chef that was making the food. You were now his taste tester, but were just hungry.

You heard the front door open and close and saw Miguel coming in. He walked up to you and kissed you on the lips. His hand made its way to your stomach and gave it a little rub. "How was little one today."

"He wanted pretzal bites." Miguel bent down and gave a kiss on your swollen belly. "I think we're gonna need to buy a pretzel place."

He chuckled, "He's gonna be just like you. How was shopping?"

"Good. I bought this cute onsie and a tiny little binnie. I know he's gonna grow out of it fast, but they were so cute." You explained and showed it to him.

That night, you woke up in pain. You looked at the clock and saw it was two in the morning. "You're going to be trouble to put to sleep, aren't you?" You whispered while rubbing your belly; the pain was getting worse. You took deep breaths while feeling the contraction. You got up and moved to be more comfortable. Another wave of contraction came in closer when, all of a sudden, you felt a big wave of water running down your legs. "Miguel!"

He quickly woke up, "What's wrong?" He got up from the bed and saw you in excruciating pain.

"My water just broke."

The ride was fast and safe. Miguel timed the contractions and told you to take deep breaths.

The labor itself was painful, but you were just happy to finally meet your baby. Miguel was right by your side during everything. He let you hold his hand while you squeezed it. Miguel demanded that you have the baby on your knees so gravity can help you out and it did.

When you heard the baby cry you cried with joy.

After the after-birth, you lay back down on the bed as the nurses placed the baby on your chest. He was an exact copy of Miguel.

"What should we name him?" He asked.

"How about Gabriel."

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Miguel came home from work and saw you breastfeeding your son. It's been a month since you came back home with your newborn son. Miguel has been more helpful than ever. He stayed up at night to feed his son so you can have your rest. He would change his diaper instead of asking you. "Mi amor, I've been thinking about hiring a professional nanny to come and help while I'm at work." He told you.

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Por su puesto, mi amor. It'll be nice for someone to come in and help while I'm not here." He said to you, taking the baby from your arms, and cradling it. "I've found a professional nanny who also has a degree in nursing. She worked in healthcare at the children's department and also in childcare for 20 years. Of course, you'll meet her as well and determine whether or not she's fit for it, I just thought it would be good to get a little help. Besides," He kissed the baby's head while rocking him, "we plan on having more, right?"

You met the nanny, who was professional and caring. She already had kids of her own and is now a proud new grandma. You gave her all holidays and weekends off. You also made sure that Miguel gave her a holiday bonus and benefits for herself and her family. She helped you whenever you needed it.

This was your life now.

Miguel's dream came true. He got the woman he loves and a family. He'll make sure that nothing will ever take that away from him.

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user2772636 · 3 months

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Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

After the incident, things take a turn for both better and worse. All with that, gym class has turned the school into a zoo. When people can't take their eyes off of what's yours, you take their ability to see. What an ironic thing for a one-eyed boy to set his mind to.

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Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: injury, teen boys being teen boys, jealousy (there's a small love triangle in this chapter)

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Chapter two: My eye only

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I stand next to Simone, waiting a few feet away from the butcher's for Michèle. I rummaged through my bag, making sure everything I needed for gym class was with me.

Simone rubs her thigh next to me. I smack her arm lightly.

"Stop touching it. You're going to make it worse." I say and she stops.

"It's going to be so embarrassing when we go to gym class. What if the love of my life will be there, and they see me with this ugly bruise on my thigh? First impressions are important. This bruise is gonna mess it up." Simone sighs anxiously.

"I don't think you'll meet the love of your life in a room full of sweaty, teenage boys. Plus, I think you've already met him. 3 o'clock." I nod my head towards Jean Pierre, walking out of the butcher's side door.

She greets him, and he only looks at her. I nod as a greeting. He only glances at me, too.

After a while, Michèle follows after him, closing the door.

"What's going on?" Simone asks Michèle. I greet her good morning. She smiles and greets me.

"He has a disciplinary hearing this afternoon." Michèle says, worried a little. We start to walk.

"There's nothing you can do. Stop worrying. Know what else is today? Our first gym class." I nod in agreement.

"Guess what?" I already knew the answer to that question, and roll my eyes.

"I fell this morning. I'm going to have a huge bruise." Simone whines.

××《☆》××

We are walking through the gate when Simone greets two girls.

"You already know everybody's name?" Michèle asks, impressed. I nod to the girls Simone greeted.

"Not everybody. Just the girls." Simone smiles at Michèle.

"I hope we don't do endurance classes. Do you sweat a lot?" She turns her head. "Hi, Laubrac." She turns back to us. We hear Laubrac say hi, too. Michèle also greets him.

"Why did you say hello to him?" Michèle asks Simone.

"Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Michèle?" I tease her, smiling at her now flustered state. Simone laughs.

"No. Why would I be jealous?" Michèle says defensively.

"Don't worry. I'm just teasing. But I see the way you look at him. Did something happen in detention that I don't know about...?" I tease further.

Her face turns red like a tomato. Me and Simone laugh more.

"Whatever. Moving on, I swear, if my brother gets kicked out..." She shakes her head.

"He won't." Simone reassures with a knowing tone in her voice.

"Don't you remember Descamps? He took his eye out." Michèle exclaims. I feel myself gag, remembering the incident.

"Fine. But you know what's good?" Simone asks her.

"Don't say he still has one eye." Michèle says before Simone could answer her own question.

"Descamps is recuperating at home, so the teachers aren't seeing him. But they are seeing your brother." Simone says matter-of-factly.

"Your brother with his perfectly combed hair, good grades, nice manners." She's totally in love with him, it's obvious.

"People are thinking about him. No one's thinking about the one-eyed boy." We look in front of us to see everyone looking towards the gate. We turn around, and my heart drops to my stomach.

In all his glory, Joseph Descamps stands, had just walked through the gate. He looks the same as the day I last saw him, only now with a bandage on his eye and the glint of sun in them gone.

××《☆》××

Heels clack against the hardwood floor, making it creak.

My eyes travel to a familiar mop of ash brown hair. He turns his head, and I'm lost in a trance, unable to look away.

I was right. There was no brightness in his eyes (or eye) anymore. His stare felt blank, unreadable. He continues to stare, and that's when I snap back to reality and look away.

I still feel his eye on me for a few seconds, and then he goes to turn his head. Though his stare felt cold, without it, I felt colder.

"Can someone give me the dates of the Battle of the Marne?" Annick and a boy raise their hands.

"Mr Felbec?" Ms. Giraud says, and Felbec stands up.

"September fifth to the twelfth, 1914." Felbec answers. As I watch Felbec, I feel a pair of eyes on me. They're framed, but not Descamps.

It's the blonde boy. Applebaum was his name. He's decent looking, tall, sharp nose, but not so sharp sight. I look at him, and he looks away hurriedly.

Ms. Giraud gives a slow nod. "And who were the opposing armies?" Annick jumps in her seat, trying to get Ms. Giraud's attention. It certainly caught mine.

"Ms. Sabiani, are you going to jump on the desk for me to see you?" Ms. Giraud walks over to her. "Don't you think you have enough attention as it is?"

Is she jealous of Annick? Her beauty? Her youth? Her knowledge? It seems like it. Annick slowly drops her hand.

"The opposing armies." Ms. Giraud lets Annick answer.

"The French and the Germans." Annick answers.

"And the British Expeditionary Force. Don't raise your hand if you only know half the answer." Ms. Giraud adds on, rather cockily. Imagine bullying your student for your own benefit.

As she walks to her desk, she talks again. I might go deaf. "And please tie your hair back. This isn't a party. Okay, we'll talk more about the Battle of Marme tomorrow."

I feel Descamps turns his head to me again. I look, and I'm still met with an emotionless eye. He maintains it, but I waver and look away.

"Let's move on to naming our class leader." This catches my attention. Felbec raises his hand again. Ms. Giraud calls his name. When I turn to look at him, Applebaums eyes are stamped on me. I ignore his stare and shift in my seat.

"My classmates have always picked me as their class leader." Felbec tells Ms. Giraud. The class laughs. "I'm studious and get good grades." He adds, standing upright.

I still feel Applebaum's eyes on me. I glance at him and smile softly. He smiles back, a blush coating his cheeks. He's cute. I return my attention to the two people standing.

"Well, I'm not like your previous teachers, Felbec. You'll have to earn it." Ms. Giraud says with a smile. It doesn't fit her. Felbec sits back down.

"Does the Battle of Marathon mean anything to anyone?" Ms. Giraud asks the class. No one answers.

"I see. Whoever can give me the date of the Battle of Marathon this afternoon will be named class leader." Too bad I don't know the date. I sigh, not too bothered.

Unbeknownst to me, Descamps glares at the back of Applebaum's head and will do so the rest of the day.

××《☆》××

Me and Michèle wait for Simone to come back. She does after a while. We hear fast and light footsteps on the stairs. She sits in between us.

"So, I was right. There's a massive bruise on my thigh." She makes an O shape with her hand. We lean in to see. I make a hissing noise, feeling bad.

"What if I meet the love of my life today? Like tonheston. I see him. He sees me. We fall in love. And then bam. He sees my bruise." Simone fades into her thoughts. I shake my head, chuckling.

"I already told you. I don't think any of those boys are going to be the love of your life. Besides, don't you have a thing for-"

Simone cuts me off by putting a hand on my mouth. She gives me a wide-eyed look, nodding towards Michèle. I realise what could've slipped past my tongue and mouth 'sorry'.

Michèle looks at both of us confused, but before she could say anything, Jean Pierre walks out the school's doors. He looks at Michèle with a glare.

"Are you okay?" Michèle asks worriedly.

"Ask me again after the hearing." Jean Pierre replies coldly. I chill at his tone.

"He'll be fine. You'll see." Jean Pierre's friend reassures Michèle. They walk away.

"Fingers crossed, Jean Pierre. Good luck." Simone calls out. I give her a knowing look, and she gives me a look of desperation. I raise my hands as if to say fine.

I look to the side, and I see Applebaum. I wave to him. He waves back. When I look away, I see him through my peripherals, talking to his friends.

"Do you like him?" Simone asks me.

"I don't know yet." I smile to myself. Maybe this will make school more interesting. I turn my head. There's an eye trained on me, so intense I could feel it. It couldn't have been Applebaum.

I look up, and Descamps is staring, sitting on the bench I saw him on the first day. I squint to see him better. I could've sworn I saw his jaw twitch. I look away.

××《☆》××

"The boys have a locker room, and all we get is the teachers' bathroom." Simone says from inside.

"My brother hates me." Michèle says, mostly to herself, but also to us. I purse my lips in pity.

"Stop it." Simone says in an annoyed tone.

"Really. Even before all this. He's always been pushing me away." Michèle continues even after Simone's reply.

"I witnessed it, Simone. It's true." I say through the door to let Simone hear my voice. Michèle looks at me in thanks. I nod.

Simone opens the door, now clothed in her gym clothes.

"Brothers don't hate their sisters." Simone tells Michèle to reassure her. It doesn't work.

"You're just lucky." Michèle detests.

I walk into the bathroom to change. I try to rush, our gym class starting in a few minutes. My clothes are a bit small, growing out of them since last school year. I adjust it a bit. The shorts are too short, shirt tight, but comfortable enough. I shrug.

I walk out the bathroom. The girls look at me.

"Wow, look at that figure of yours. Let's go before class starts without us." Simone grabs me and Michèle's arms and drags us to the gym.

They continued a conversation I hadn't been in, so I just blocked it out. We walk out the school, boys turning their heads to take a second look.

××《☆》××

"Hiding it draws more attention to it." Michèle tells Simone as Simone tugs at her shorts. I walk in a few steps behind them, entering the gym.

"It's yellow and green with purple spots. It's gross." I cringe at the description.

"No one will see it." Michèle reassures Simone.

"Everyone will see it. These shorts." Simone groans. The boys walk in with their tanktops and shorts.

"Great, you're all wearing navy blue. Maybe if I just stand sideways." Simone shifts her feet. I stand in front of her, covering it with my leg. She smiles at that.

All boys look to their right when Annick walks in. All of them except Applebaum, who keeps his eyes on me. I guess he gained a bit of confidence because he waves and smiles. I wave back and smile, too.

"Guess there's no need to stand sideways after all." Simone says, defeated.

××《☆》××

The boys scatter around, stretching and walking around. The coach commands them to do certain things I didn't care to listen to.

Applebaum walks behind us. I turn and smile.

"Hello, Applebaum." I greet, and he turns rushed from his bended position. His cheeks are flushed. I smile softer, trying to make him less uncomfortable.

Descamps walks into the gym and sees me and Applebaum interacting. He continues to watch. I don't notice him.

"Hi." That's all he says. I nod. Good enough.

"Good luck in there." I tilt my head to the boys, beginning their formation. He smiles.

"Thanks. You, too." He stutters out, placing his glasses on the bleachers hurriedly, almost running away from me.

Simone turns around. "Why is he running away from you? Did you say something? He's so red." She laughs.

"I just greeted him. I don't know why he's so shy." I reply, confusion in both my face and voice. "And he said you too when I said good luck. That doesn't make sense."

Simone laughs louder. When Michèle asks why she's laughing, Simone explains, and now Michèle is laughing, too. I roll my eyes, but a smile finds it way to my face.

Descamps is on the bleachers across from us. I feel a gaze on me. When I follow it, my eyes lock with his. He smirks. I scowl.

Annick raises her hand and calls out for the coach.

"Oh, right." He says. "The girls." A sigh.

××《☆》××

We look at the rope attached to the ceiling. I grimace.

"Climbing? Is he joking?" The three girls shake their head. I sigh.

"Who first?" No one answers.

I glance at the game, wanting to watch the boys play through it. They start to assemble, the game starting. I notice Applebaum moving around weirdly, squinting and turning his head rapidly. He really can't see without those glasses.

He gets hit in the head and falls to the ground. The boys go up to him. My brows crease in worry. In the bleachers, Descamps smiles. It triggers me.

I get up from the mat, the girls asking me where I'm going. I ignore them, rushing up to Applebaum.

"Applebaum, are you okay?" I hiss in pity, a red mark on his forehead.

"Pardine?" Even without his glasses, he still recognises me. That's sweet. I smile.

"Mhm. Are you still good?" He nods at that. I help him up. Out of the corner of my eye, I feel Descamps dark stare on both me and Applebaum. I ignore it.

"Be careful." That's the last thing I say before going back to the girls.

"You so like him." Michèle teases. I smile. I think I'm starting to.

Annick gets on the rope, and Simone holds it still for her.

"She's even good at gym. She's Marilyn Monroe's secret daughter." Simone tells me and Michèle. We laugh.

"No, I swear. She's nothing like us. Did you see her skin? It's perfect. Straight out of Hollywood." Simone says, convincing us that she was serious.

They look to their left. I keep my eyes on Annick and on the game.

"Your brother is looking for you." Simone tells Michèle. Jean Pierre ushers her to him, and both of them go. I replace Simone's position by handling the rope.

Simone comes back after a while, taking her place on the rope again. I sigh. Let's see how long this'll be.

××《☆》××

Annick finishes climbing up the rope. I decided to go next. I grip on the rope and start climbing. When I'm at least five feet away from the ground, my hands shift, and I fumble.

I start to go down, my hand that's still on the rope getting a burn, and the inside of my thigh gets the same injury. Three feet away from the floor, I fall on my back.

The loud thud gets attention from everyone in the gym. Simone and Michèle quickly get to me, asking if I'm okay. I don't respond, my injuries stinging.

I get up after catching my breath. I stand slowly with the support of Michèle. I nod, and she lets me go.

Descamps walks towards us, and I think of something to say. "What do you want now?" I don't look up at him, eyes on the burn on my thigh.

"Coach told me to bring you to the clinic." He says with a sigh.

"Why can't the others do it instead?" I ask him, now looking up and feeling cold sweat. His stare is so dark. His height makes him more intimidating. I don't show my sudden fear.

"Because I'm the only one not in this class. Now quit complaining and come with me." He grabs my arm harshly, but his hold is gentle. I wince anyway. He rubs it gently.

××《☆》××

As we reach the clinic, the nurse is disappointingly not there. Great.

"Sit down." Descamps says, a commanding tone in his voice. I sit on one of the beds.

He grabs a few things from the first aid kit. I look at him in wonder.

"I didn't know you knew how to take care of injur-"

"What the hell was that?" He cuts me off, caging me in with his arms on the bed. He's glaring. He's mad. Why is he mad?

"What?" I ask, clueless. What could he be mad about?

"Your injury. If you weren't so foolish and took care of yourself, you wouldn't have burns on you." He grabs my wrist and puts it up, showing me my own injury. I wince in pain, and something shifts in him. Regret and worry.

"Why do you care so much?" I say, now angry. Something shifts in him again. Annoyance. I whip my wrist from his hands. He grabs it again.

"It doesn't matter why I care. What matters is that you're hurt because 'you' don't care." He squints at me. "Plus, why are you wearing such small clothes? Is it because of Applebaum? Do you care what he thinks? Do you like him?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"He's nice to me. The only boy besides Pichon." He clenches his jaw.

"Pichon, huh? That piggy? Do you like both of them?" He chuckles. "The blind boy and the pig. You have bad taste." He leans in close. Too close. I feel his breath on my face. I glance at his lips, then back up to his eye.

"You call him blind when you only have one eye, and at least Pichon has respect for us girls. Unlike you." I tilt my head, urging him on. He stays quiet for a while. His eye moves from my eyes to my lips.

"Stop being a brat." He says, voice low. He lifts my hand up and blows on my palm. I feel myself relax, my breathing shaky. He still has his eye on me. I look at him. He doesn't look away.

He continues to blow until he has no breath left in him. He takes a disinfectant, spills a few drops of it on cotton, and gently pats it on my burn. I wince. He rubs my hand with his thumb.

"Be careful next time. I don't want to have to take you to the clinic again." He says, voice almost a whisper, but still low that you can see his throat vibrate.

"Trust me. Now I know that it would be you taking care of me, I'll be a lot more careful not to end up here." I whisper, too, feeling tension in the air.

He scoffs. "Didn't I tell you to stop being a brat?" He says a bit harshly, but his touch is still so gentle that you could fall asleep.

I don't say anything back. After he puts antiseptic on my palm, he gently wraps it in gauze. I watch his face. He's entirely focused, there's even worry etched on his brows.

He put my palm down gently. He looks up at me, eye scanning mine as he hovers his hand on my thigh. I nod.

He put his hand down. Both of us let out a breath we didn't know we were holding. He might've thought he hurt me because his hand caresses me gently. Very, very gently. I might pass out from relaxation.

On my inner thigh, there's a small burn. He grabs a cotton with disinfectant and does the same procedure he did on my palm.

Once he finishes, his hand stays on my thigh.

He bites his lip. "Be careful. Remember it." He says, his voice so low I could barely understand what he said. But he was so close, I could even hear the stutter in his breath.

"Okay." I whisper out, my breath moving his hair. The door opens, and the nurse comes in. Descamps steps away from me, and I feel cold. Like winter with no fire. Autumn with no coat. So, yes, it feels very cold.

"Ms. Pardine. Sorry I couldn't tend to you. I was on my break." I shake my head, dismissing it. I get up, and Descamps is suddenly by my side, helping me straighten up. I look at him. He doesn't even glance at me. Instead, he's looking at the wall to his left.

We head out of the clinic. It's break time already. Descamps walks away, disappearing in the tunnel, not even saying goodbye.

I walk towards Michèle and Simone. I sit on the bench, and they look at me worriedly.

"Y/N, are you okay? We've been worried since you left with Descamps. Did he do anything to you?" Simone asks, eyeing my injuries. I purse my lips.

"He only took care of me, surprisingly." I keep my head down. They nod, relaxing. I see Descamps' group of friends walk out the tunnel with Pichon's group just a few feet behind them. They talk, Applebaum's glasses not on his face. I furrow my brows.

"Hey, guys. Can you come with me later to change?" They nod.

I glance back at the boys. Descamps is now talking to Pichon. I start to worry.

"Why does she never talk to us? Celebrities do that. She says she's never been to Hollywood, but who knows?" Simone says, cutting me out of my trance. I already know who she's talking about.

"Maybe she's just introverted?" I say based on my observations. Simone shrugs. She looks to Michèle.

"Are you listening?" Simone asks her. She seems distracted lately. Michèle says yes. I doubt she had her head in the conversation.

"Hearings can take a while. Don't worry." Simone tells Michèle. I nod, feeling pity for her.

"Don't feel bad if he's going through this, Michèle. He just wanted to defend you. That was his choice, you know? He cares." I tell her, placing a hand over hers.

"Have you used the climbing rope a lot?" Michèle asks. Very random, but Simone answers anyway.

"No, why?" She says, smiling confused.

"No reason. Forget it." Me and Simone purse out lips and forget about it. We look around the courtyard. I see Pichon pop out of the tree next to us. I look at him confused. He walks to our bench and starts calling out for Annick.

"You can just talk to her." Simone tells him. Annick walks over to Pichon, and they walk away.

"Do you think he's going to propose?" Simone asks as a joke. I laugh.

"Probably." They laugh, too.

××《☆》××

"So," Ms. Giarud places her coat on her chair. "Who deserves to be class leader?"

Descamps raises his hand, Felbec, too. I look at Descamps confused. How does he know?

"Mr. Felbec. Did you find the date of the Battle of Marathon?" Felbec stands up.

"Fifth century, B.C." Felbec answers.

"Correct. Would you say 'twentieth century' if I asked about the Battle of Verdun?" The class chuckles. Descamps raises his hand again.

"Mr. Descamps. Can you do better?" Ms. Giraud lets him stand.

"Four hundred ninety B.C." Impressed noises come from our class. I raise my eyebrows.

"Congratulations, Descamps. That's very impressive." It is impressive. Very.

"Can you tell me where you found the date?" This is where I have a feeling he doesn't know. I'm right. But he plays it off.

"In our book." Wrong answer, Descamps. I smile slyly.

"Surprising. The Persian Wars aren't part of the curriculum." Busted.

"Maybe it was another book. I don't remember." He's bad at playing this off. I sigh. Too bad for him.

"Already? If you've already forgotten something that happened today, how will you remember anything when you get your diploma?" Ms. Giraud says matter-of-factly.

"I gave him the date." Pichon says, standing up. That's how Descamps knows. That's what they were talking about earlier. Ms. Giraud lets Pichon continue.

"Four hundred ninety B.C. is in the manual on Ancient Greece." Pichon answers her.

"And I know that because..." He trails off and looks to the side. "I read it in the book."

"Why did you give the answer to Descamps?" Ms. Giraud asks him.

"I wasn't sure I could do it." He fumbles with his hands. "Being class leader, ma'am."

"There are worse faults than humility. Certain students, boys and girls, should remember that." Ms. Giraud says, fingertips balancing her on her table.

"Pichon, you are our class leader." Tension as sharp as a knife spreads around the classroom. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable in the silence. Good luck with them.

××《☆》××

"Should I iron Laubrac's jacket before I give it back?" Michèle smiles as she asks us.

"I knew you liked him. I totally called it." I say in triumph. They laugh. Michèle suddenly gasps.

"I forgot my cardigan." Michèle remembers, the smile on her face dropping.

"Go ahead. I have errands to run." Simone says. We all bid each other goodbye and part ways.

As I walk to my flat, a hand grabs my arm and covers my mouth. I prepare to scream, but stop midway when I see Descamps' face. I push him away.

"What was that for?" I shout angrily at him. He puts a finger to his lips, shushing me.

"You're too loud. Do you want to get caught?" He steps closer.

"Get caught doing wha-" He covers my mouth again, and I lick it. He pulls away, disgusted.

"Ew, why would you do that?" He wipes his hand on my shirt. I move away from him.

"Stop covering my mouth." I whisper-shout at him. We stand there, silent, his hand staying on my arm. I see him gulp, his adams apple bobbing up and down.

Our breaths are heavy. It's the only thing we hear. He walks a bit closer to me. I look up, his height getting taller.

"What do you want, Descamps?" I ask him, whispering. He doesn't say anything yet, eye focused on me. He drops his head.

"A warning." He says, his voice breaking a bit.

"What?" What does he mean by a warning?

"He got off with a warning." Oh. Jean Pierre.

"It's not fair. He took my eye out." I don't know why he's talking to me about this, but I feel pity anyway.

"Descamps-" I cut myself off when his arms wrap around my waist and his head tucks itself into my neck.

My hands absentmindedly go up to rub his back. I whisper confort into his ear. He isn't crying. He's just standing slumped, absorbing my warmth. I let him.

He suddenly pulls away, some sort of fear in his eyes. He runs out of the alley, and I'm left alone.

I decided after a while that I should start walking back home. He stays in mind the rest of the night. Even in my dreams, he lingers. His touch, his scent, his breath. And I hate it. I hate him.

××《☆》××

End of- Chapter two: My eye only

Next- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say

××《☆》××

End of chapter two. I think this is longer than the first because i added more additional scenes so the joseph and the reader can interact. The enemies to lovers are really coming into place in this. Applebaum is a sweetheart, but for those who loved him here, sad to say, this will only be a one-time thing. Unless i change my mind in the future. Hope you guys liked it and again, leave a comment or dm me for recommendations. Thanks for reading!!!

#joseph descamps x reader #joseph descamps #mixte1963 #michèle magnan #simone palladino #jean pierre magnan #alain laubrac #enemies to lovers #reader insert #fanfic #x reader #slow burn

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luxeslore · 2 months

Note

teacher konig? (legal age ofc) i love ur work smm ESP LOSER KONIG

okay… i promise i’m listening, but i’m also thinking… what if professor!könig and loser!könig joined forces ??? this is less than 500 words— maybe i’ll expand on it some day. ♥︎

WARNINGS… 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. f!reader, implied age gap, teasing [reader -> könig], size kink, oral [r. receiving].

“Professor—”

Your voice is warm and sweet like honey. Yet you still sound impatient; your tone borders on petulant, as usual.

It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before during these little after class sessions you have. The issue König is facing is that you’re sat on his desk. Little skirt barely covering your thighs that are spilling all over the cool, hardwood surface.

So much soft skin that’s begging to be touched and fondled by his giant hands. You’re not helping when you kick a foot out, the toe of your pricey ballet flat landing on his knee before dragging up his thigh. Stopping before you get too close to the bulge in his slacks. He’s never good at hiding it.

“Don’t you want me?”

God help him. He does.

He wants you enough that he’d go through losing his job a thousand times over if it meant he’d get to have you— even just once. All that burning desire isn’t enough to bury his shame. To make him forget how absolutely mortified he is that such a rotten minx like you managed to break him down. Such a big man with such little resolve. He’s stumbling out of that cliché and into the next with this porno-esque professor-student moment you’re having. He could stuff his face in his hands right now, but he doesn’t.

Instead he grabs you up.

For a second, he marvels over how his hands nearly engulf your waist. Almost groans over the feel of his digits sinking in. I want you. He chokes the words out, desperately. As if he won’t be able to breathe if he doesn’t mutter them. His palms are rubbing your sides and he’s dropping to his knees before he can even fully think about it.

Pathetic. That’s how he feels as he presses his face between those precious thighs of yours, kissing the front of your panties. You croon, watching before König’s eyes meet your own, pooling with lust and hunger. He’s thought about how your sweet cunt tastes more than he’d ever admit. Now he’s right at the gates, guiding them to open wider so he can thumb those cute panties to the side and get to work.

#i’m easing back into writing #konig x reader #konig smut #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #⌨️.luxe's writing

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

... or Yoongi + mafia + hybrid + "it's okay baby, i'm okay, it's just a scratch, don't cry love" (spoiler: it's a gunshot not a scratch !!!!! :C)

the depths of hell:

pairing: human! yoongi x cat hybrid! reader

genre: fluff || mild angst || mafia au || hybrid au || non-idol au ||

summary: yoongi hates when you cry.

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: mentions of a gunshot wound, blood, mentions of death, crybaby! reader, very much grumpy x sunshine who only smiles for her type relationship

notes: i put both your requests into one!! the first request is at the end!!

drabble masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You always found the question about where your loyalties lie a little peculiar. Though your answer had always been the same and will continue to be the same for whatever time you have left alive in this world. May death be stood at your front door tomorrow, or you live till old; you’re certain the answer to that question will never change.

Because sure, you weren’t a dog, you didn’t sit at your master’s feet like so many of your kind did that had crawled into this world, the shadows where people like Min Yoongi run chunks of the city, where merely his name is enough for those knowledgeable enough about the city’s mafia to be silenced. One looked at the jagged scar across his eye and his name fizzles out on your tongue until you’re choking on your words, his eyes piercing and picking your soul a part.

But no matter how much blood stains his hands, your loyalties will forever be his. You hadn’t crawled into the depths of hell, Yoongi had extended his hand, a kind offer to join him, and you’d taken it. Skipping through the gates as he laughed at your vibrance.

You’d always been stubborn, Yoongi liked to point it out sometimes, usually accompanied by a gentle smile on his face and an exaggerated pout from you; nothing a soft kiss can’t fix, because as much as Yoongi was in love with you, you will always love him double the amount.

Many of those in the same world as him, always laugh when you make it a point that no amount of riches, no shiny little jewels or promises of endless pleasure will ever make you part ways with Yoongi. Maybe holding your chin high by his side was a fickle game of life and death, where you constantly had a target on your head.

Though it was a risk you were willing to take for Yoongi, because if you were to ever die, as much as he hated the idea, then you’d much rather die by his side.

And no amount of him begging, falling to his knees at your feet with rough hands holding warm cheeks, will ever sway you to never step foot in this household again. No amount of sweet concern and tearful confessions will be enough, and maybe that made you selfish, ignoring Yoongi’s concerns, but sometimes being a little selfish is justified when it comes to the people we love.

Not only was your life at risk, but he’d made it very clear that every day he’d wake up never knowing if it was his last and you’d understood that; however, that didn’t make it any less daunting when he did come home injured.

You hear the front door slam shut, cat ears flickering at Yoongi’s heavy boots padding up the stairs. Heavy in the way you can hear his feet drag against the hardwood floors. Faint buzz of the alarms disarmed reaching you on the other side of the house.

You peek through the open door of the balcony into the bedroom when you hear his footsteps outside the room, clumsy when the door swings open, and you watch as he staggers towards the bed.

You smell it before you see it, thick metallic blood permeating the air, and your heartrate picks up; book long forgotten on the table as you stumble into the bedroom, eyes zeroing in on his blood covered hands—white shirt-stained red.

“Yoongi?” you dare ask, falling to your knees before him as he hunches over on the bed, eyes avoiding your gaze.

“I’m fine” he grunts, hand held over his stomach.

You swallow thickly, hands shaking as you try and pry his own hand away from his wound, “Yoongi please” you hiccup, his body becoming a blur of red behind the veil of tears, “You’re hurt, please”

And he can see the tremble in your hands, pearly little tears falling onto his slacks as you try and get a better look at his wound, only your body shakes as you sob, fingers barely holding onto his wrist.

“It’s okay baby, I’m okay, it’s just a scratch, don’t cry, love” he coos, “You know I hate to see you cry”

His spare hand pauses just above your hybrid ears when he sees it stained with blood, grimace painting his face and he can’t tell what hurts more. The heartache of seeing you cry, or the bullet lodged into his side.

“I’m not stupid Yoongs. I’m gonna call Taehyung” you push yourself up on shaky legs, cat tail wrapping around your thigh. Faux comfort doing nothing to ease the anxiety that’s thrumming throughout your body, heart wrenching at the thought of losing Yoongi.

“Stop panicking, my love” he watches as you throw the pillows off the bed, blankets shoved out the way when you can’t find your phone, another pitiful sob shaking your body as frustration bursts as your seams.

“I don’t want to lose you” you cry, back of your hand wiping your eyes.

And maybe if Yoongi didn’t feel like he was moment away from passing out, he would have found it funny how bossy you’d sounded over the phone, because no matter how late it was Taehyung needed to get to the house as soon as possible, your threats far from empty.

You’d pressed a towel to the open wound while waiting for Taehyung, babbling on about some bullshit Yoongi didn’t want to think about, eyes shutting at the sound of your voice; only slipping them open when he hears the sheer panic in your tone, worried he’d fallen unconscious.

“I love you” he murmurs, weak squeeze of your hand bringing a watery smile to your face as Taehyung patches him up, your tail whipping around behind you in mild distress with each uncomfortable groan he let out.

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” you blink up at Taehyung through wet lashes, fingers gentle as they brush Yoongi’s sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“Yeah, just make sure he doesn’t pop the stitches and he should be okay”

Your small smile drops at that, “This isn’t funny” you snap when you see the wry smile on the doctor’s face.

“He’s a lot stronger than you think he is. He’d crawl out the depths of hell just so you weren’t alone, I doubt a shitty shot at his abdomen is going to stop him from coming back home to you”

“Why’re you still here” Yoongi pushes himself up, and you fuss over the pillows behind him, “Go home, Taehyung” he grunts.

Said man gives you a knowing look and you simply turn back to Yoongi, cat ears flickering when the bedroom door clicks shut.

“I’ll get a cool towel for you” you pick up his bloodied shirt on your way to the bathroom, running the tap cold.

“Come here, baby, I’ve had a long day. Let’s take a bath and cuddle, how’s that sound” he leans against the frame of the door.

You turn the tap off, “You’re meant to be resting, you know”

“I am. I know you have one of those shitty bath bombs you wanted to try out, go and choose with one you want”

“They’re not shitty” you smile, “Promise you’ll rest after a bath? I’m worried you’ll re-open your wound”

“Promise, my love. I feel like shit, we need to change the sheets as well” he grumbles, tugging his boxers off as you start to run the bath.

“I love you” you look up at him from where you’re crouched on the floor.

“I might just love you a little more”

Your tongue wets your bottom lip, “That’s impossible. I’d crawl out of the depths of hell for you too, just so you know”

☀️ thank you for reading!!

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

first request:

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi imagine #bts imagines #bts mafia fic #bts au fic #bts non idol au #bts hybrid fic #bts x reader #min yoongi #bts #bts hybrid fanfic #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid au

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jinwoosungs · 2 months

Text

{ 133 }

season's call.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ my beloved season calls me | because i always feel you in me. }

most people would cower in fear at the thought of walking alone in the middle of the night-

yet you could say with confidence that you were not one of those people.

despite being a young woman living in the midst of the big city like seoul, you found a strange safety while walking within the darkness of the night-

a comfort, even.

with your job requiring you to work many hours, it came as no surprise when you came home most days feeling completely drained. the exhaustion seeming to seep within your very bones as your drooping eyes could barely stay open the moment you came back to your apartment.

sometimes, your boyfriend was around, but most times, he would often be working. taking on his duties as the latest s-rank hunter and dominating various gates that appear across the city. but you would never worry too long about him, simply falling back in bed while re-reading his last message that was sent to you until your eyes could barely remain open.

my monarch 👑 [ you just go home and focus on resting. i'll be home soon, i love you. oh, and please, do dream of me. ]

those were the last words you recall reading until your cellphone slipped from your fingertips, ready to land against the hardwood floorings of your shared bedroom had it not been for a certain shadow gently catching it before placing the device on your nightstand.

it wasn't until several hours later that you finally woke up from your nap, which was what lead you to your current predicament.

being well past midnight, you felt groggy from your nap and became aware of the lack of sustenance felt within your system. after freshening up within your bathroom, you allow your eyes to stare blearily at your reflection. your hand touches at your cheeks, noticing the dark circles as you sigh and began to wash your face once more.

"my queen... are you alright?"

as you dry your face with the plush towel, you trail your eyes down towards your shadow, seeing several, glowing purple eyes looking back at you. normally, such a frightening sight would be enough to cause someone to feel an immense fear-

but not to you.

"i'm fine. since there's not much to eat here, i plan to buy something to eat for me and jinwoo at the convenience store. do you mind accompanying me?"

"of course, my queen. our king will be delighted with your decision."

with a smile painting your lips, you nod before grabbing your phone and bag, extracting your keys as you decided to explore the city and buy a late dinner for you and jinwoo to enjoy later on once he comes home. the city was bustling with activity, and you allow the sensation of the wind to course through you, humming a favorite tune as you walked with confidence across the sidewalks.

as you enjoy the sights of the city, you felt danger quickly approaching you. goosebumps were felt erupting all across the expanse of your arm as a low whistle was heard trailing from close behind you. you stiffen momentarily, but ultimately decide to stop walking.

you allow your eyes to follow the voice, seeing a man sneering at you as he came out from a random alleyway. your heart was felt racing slightly, summoning your flight or fight response-

yet your fear was short lived when several, tiny whispers were heard coming from your shadow.

"hey hey hey, what's the rush babygirl? you're lookin' a little lost."

the faint scent of alcohol was evident when you felt the man's calloused hands grabbing on to you. you had to fight back the repulsion that threatens to course through you, mustering the coldest look you could manage when you stiffly tell the drunkard, "i'm taken. my boyfriend will be livid if he sees you forcing yourself onto me."

he gives you a smirk now, his piercings glinting from beneath the moonlight while his hold on you seemed to tighten when he tells you.

"aw, don't be like that, babe. heheh, i bet you're just stiff because you need a good fuckin' to help with loosening you up, that's all."

he was about to get closer to you when he saw the wisps of shadows surrounding you. you close your eyes, already basking in amusement when you saw the panicked look within the bastard's eyes.

"w-what the hell? you a fucking hunter?"

no, but my boyfriend is one.

you keep your thoughts to yourself, allowing the cold shadows to surround you as you briefly wondered what shadow soldier would appear, ready to defend you with their life.

would it be igris? or beru?

"you." within mere seconds, you found your answer, gasping when jinwoo himself appears in front of you.

your knees were weak, feeling your heart began to pound when you were met with jinwoo's broad back. he keeps a powerful hand behind you, using his body as a shield between you and the poor bastard who dared to hit on you.

"a-a-ah..."

you hear the shakiness in his voice when jinwoo grabs a hold of his shirt, slamming the bastard against the harsh, brick wall of the alleyway with a click of his tongue. the bastard never stood a chance, losing his consciousness immediately as he slumps against the concrete.

jinwoo was breathing heavily when he finally faces you, eyes still glowing a bright purple when his shaky hands gently frame at your face.

"are you alright, sarang?" his voice was shaky, still assessing your features for any trace of fear or discomfort. "i'm sorry if i was a little late, but... when i saw that bastard coming on to you-"

he trembles, letting out a shaky sigh when you felt his hands clutching at your shoulders in a tighter manner. "i nearly lost myself to my rage, ready to rip that bastard into shreds if i had to."

finally snapping out of your reveries, you sigh and wrap your arms around jinwoo's neck, your embrace and the way your warmth seemed to surround him being enough to calm him down.

"i'm alright, jinwoo... i'm just so happy to see you again."

you laugh before pressing gentle kisses against his jawline, slowly calming down your beloved boyfriend as he basks in your presence. he lets out a sigh of your name before wrapping his arms around your back, resting his head against your shoulder while gently holding you in his arms.

"did you just finish your raid?"

you look at him with amusement in your eyes when he gives you a gentle nod against your shoulder.

"yeah, i'm done."

"then, let's get some dinner together, shall we?"

you feel jinwoo place a lingering kiss against your shoulders before moving away from you, the rage in his eyes finally dying down into a gentle simmer as you could see the clarity of his grey eyes once more.

"yes, let's go." he nods, with the two of you completely forgetting about the man who was foolish enough to hit on you, leaving his unconscious body near the alleyway he had came from.

and as you continue to explore the city while in the arms of your beloved shadow monarch, you knew that he was the sole reason you had no reason to fear the night-

for sung jinwoo would always be right by your side when danger struck, ready to protect you with all that he had.

a.n. - hhhhhh the jinwoo brainrot is real... please save me jinwoo, my daydreams for you can't seem to stop 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x you #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo sung #solo leveling x reader #.stories

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thatfreshi · 8 months

Text

We Never Cease Being Lucky (Astarion x Reader)

TW - anxiety attack

Recommended Song: Renee - Sales

You absolutely adore birthdays. Although, you haven't celebrated yours since you met Astarion on that godforsaken beach. You remember asking when his is, as you do with everyone. He trailed off, distant.

"I... I don't quite remember."

You never asked about it again, but that sadness kept you in a chokehold. How could you go so long without celebrating your birthday? It's not fair, to not be able to celebrate life, to have that ripped away from you.

Once you end your adventures, you buy a house together, free from all the past pains, dancing on hardwood floors far from anything that ever hurt you. You still live in Baldur's Gate though, and you realize something one day while lying in bed.

"Aster, you were born here, right?"

"Of course, never left, well until I was taken."

You smirk, a little plan unfolding in your mind.

"I know what we're going to do this evening."

It's not often you have a suspicious smile across your face. He's curious.

"Well my love, please do tell."

"We're going to break into the courthouse!"

He laughs, sitting up to stretch, letting go of the slumber.

"Adorable. As far as I recall, we're done with our silly little adventures."

You just stare at him, and he realizes you're serious.

"Wait, why do you want to break into the courthouse?"

"It's a secret!"

"I feel as though it's hardly fair to ask for my assistance if you're not even going to tell me why."

"Well, it's for you. You'll see."

"Alright then, I revoke my complaints. Breaking into the courthouse, sounds great."

He used to be a lot more secretive about it, but he loves when you do things on his behalf. You don't often get such an opportunity, but tonight, tonight you finally get to give him something he's been missing for so long. Of course, as long as everything goes to plan. You tell him to grab a few lockpicks, and the two of you head out into the darkness.

"Sooooo, you can't even give me the slightest hint as to what you're up to?"

"Nope, but at least now you know it involves your very own specialty: sneaky criminal activity."

"Now, I think I have quite a few other far more interesting specialties, but I guess I'm just a glorified key to you."

He scoffs.

"No, you're just really good at getting into places quietly, and I think if I did this by myself I'd probably get arrested, and I definitely don't need you bailing me out considering you'd hold it over my head forever."

"Well you're right about that."

You give him a playful shove, and he trips on a loose cobblestone.

"Okay, rude. Maybe I'll turn you in anyways, say you were trying to involve me in some illegal heist against my will."

"But if you do that, you don't get your surprise!"

"Ugh, fine. I'll play along."

You shush him as you get closer to your target. There's a sleeping guard posted outside, one that the two of you successfully sneak past, finding a side entrance.

"Do you have any idea where this door leads?"

"Nope."

You smile at him, and he rolls his eyes.

"You're asking me to open a lock and you have no idea what's behind it? You clearly are not as masterful of a thief as you used to be."

He starts to pick away at the lock anyways.

"Well, I have been in retirement for a little bit."

At the end of your sentence, you hear that final click, and he opens the door. When the two of you get inside, it's pitch black, all the candles and oil lamps burnt out.

"Do you see any signs that say Records?"

"No, what would I possibly want with the city's records?"

"You'll see! Gods, just let me do something nice."

"It seems like I'm doing most of the work so far..."

"It's fine. Once we find the records room I can do the rest. You're just helping."

He can't resist that grin of yours, clearly excited by your mysterious plans. Astarion gives in, sighing as if he's bothered, but the two of you continue to look for the records room. Eventually, you turn a corner to yet another locked door. You bat your eyes at him, and he goes to work once again.

"You owe me after this."

"Please my love, I'm telling you you're gonna be so excited!"

"If you insist my dear."

He gets the second door unlocked, ushering you inside. He casts fire, lighting up a nearby candelabra. You're met with bookshelves stacked high with pieces of paper loosely put together, turning more golden and tattered as you look to your left.

"This is it!"

You immediately start to look at the dates on the records, finding the range of about two centuries ago. Without a care for the organization, you quickly flip through years and years of records, looking for anything that could be a birth record.

"Darling, I thought the point was to sneak in here, not throw papers all over the floor and have someone know we were here."

You ignore him, becoming a little desperate to find what you're looking for. The text is fading on some of these documents, making it hard to know they're not his. He crouches down on the floor beside you, realizing you're stressing out about this unknown objective.

"Hey, hey, Tav. What's wrong?"

You start to tear up a little, thinking this would be so simple, that this stuff wouldn't be so carelessly stacked on shelves.

"I can't- I can't find it."

You throw the stack of papers on the floor, wiping a tear off your cheek.

"I know you're trying to do something nice for me my sweet, but maybe if you told me what you're looking for, I could help you."

You sniffle, trying not to go into a full sob.

"I- I wanted to-"

You choke up, almost unable to speak. He takes your hands in his.

"Breathe Tav, breathe. In, and out."

You listen to him, trying your best to just inhale and exhale. You didn't think this attempt was going to lead to an anxiety attack, but luckily he's dealt with plenty himself. Your breath steadies as you tightly grab his hands.

"Now, what are you looking for?"

"I... I was trying to see if I could find your birth certificate. You know, since we don't know when your birthday is and all, I thought it might be nice to know. I feel so bad, it just passes every year and you're none the wiser."

He's dumbfounded, shock in his eyes, almost a little confused. You were having an anxiety attack just now because you weren't going to find when his birthday is?

"Darling, I... that's very sweet, but nothing worth this much stress. I haven't even thought about it in years."

"Yeah, but I just really love birthdays, and I just wanted a day where we could celebrate you, you know?"

"I appreciate that sentiment, truly, but if we can't find it, it's okay. You tried, and that's enough. Besides, what's the point in keeping something almost three centuries old at this point?"

"I don't know, I thought that was their job, to keep old shit."

You look at the scattered papers, and he follows your gaze. Something catches his eye, a document sitting to your left.

"Wait, look at that one."

You turn, picking up the piece of paper and holding it in the light of the flame.

"Holy shit."

He sits himself on your shoulder, looking at the writing with you.

"Gods, I really am that old."

You smile, another small tear falling.

"Aster, look. It's tomorrow."

He continues to read, eyes crossing the date again.

"We never cease being lucky, do we?"

"No, I guess we don't."

You turn to kiss his cheek, and then roll up the paper, putting it in your bag.

"Wait, you can't just take that!"

"Why not? Means more to us than them."

You simply shrug and he shakes his head, almost in disappointment. You clearly had no intention of making it seem like you weren't here. He doesn't stop you though, as he can't deny he'd like to keep his birth certificate as well.

"Thank you my dear, for always thinking of me."

"There's nothing more important I could think of."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff #comfort

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Come Out, Come Out

Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.

Summary: you get an unwelcome visitor.

Based on this anon ask:

That reblog about Seb's hair: a dark simp character with a hair pulling kink? He purposefully keeps it long because he loves when you pull on it. Even if you're physically fighting him to get away, he'll be disappointed if you don't pull. About this post.

As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗

You keep a hand over your mouth, your other arm wrapped around your knees as you huddle down in the cramped space. You listen to the footsteps only a few rooms over. The slow, deliberate pace taunting you. Searching, searching, searching, until you don’t hear any at all.

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice startles you, closer than you could’ve expected, “I know you’re here.”

He lets his steps make noise again. The light on the other side of the door flicks on. You cower as you stare at the yellow line slipping in from beneath the wood.

His soles scuff on the hardwood as he makes a patient progress around the room. The subtle shift of something being lifted sets your skin alight. You swallow down a gulp as you quiver in the dark closet. He clucks loudly and hums.

“I’m just checking in, like Steve told me to,” he says, “making sure you’re okay. How can I calm his worries… if you won’t show yourself?”

His irritation hangs in the last syllable. He sighs as he waits for you to wilt. Wait for you to give in and show yourself. But you can’t. You won’t. You shouldn't have let him know you’re there at all.

“You should’ve let me in when I told you to,” Bucky snarls, “now I gotta explain the tripped alarm to the blonde bozo.”

You push your knuckle into your mouth and bite down. Why can’t he leave you alone? Please, just go away.

“Tell you what, sugarplum, I’ll count to ten and if you come out before then, I won’t be mad.”

The threat is plain. It’s too late for all that. He’s already angry. You know better than to fall for it. It doesn’t matter if you come out now or later. He’s here and he didn’t come without a mission.

He laughs and claps his hands, “you’re really going to make me count?”

You curl your arm around your head as you slouch your shoulders. You keep your palm cupped around your mouth and steady your shallow breaths. Please, please, please.

“One,” he begins and punctuates it with a step, “two,” another, “three–” a third and his soles squeak as he turns sharply, the legs of a chair scraping on the floor. “Ah, of course, sugarplum, you’re too clever for that trick, aren't you?”

You push your lips together as your nose tingles. A tear spills out and rolls down your cheek, a salty line crisp along your skin. You close your eyes and make yourself as small as you can.

“Four,” he says louder than before, “five,” his tone takes on a mean lilt, “six!” A bang as the table jolts against the floor, “seven!” A chair sent into the wall to clatter back with a crack, “eight… doll, you’re playing a dangerous fucking game with me.”

Your throat clenches painfully and your eyes burn. Your horror streams down and pools along the bend of your fingers, curved around your mouth to hold in your fear.

“Nine,” his voice is shaky with rage as his march continues across the floor.

He laughs again. The air grows stolid as your ears prick and you listen. You don’t hear him. Nothing. Not a sound.

The knob wiggles and suddenly the door wigs outward. Yellow lights pours over you, quickly blocked out by his black silhouette. You squeak and hug your legs tight as you shake your head in helpless denial.

“Ten,” he announces in victory, “sugarplum,” he squats down before you as you keep your eyelids shut. A thin shield from his invasion. “I could hear your heart beat from the fucking gate.”

You wince as his metal fingers brush over your hair. He tuts and grabs a fistful, dragging you up as he stands. You exclaim as you hang from his grasp, on tiptoes as you brace your head and try to ease the fire in your scalp. Your eyes flick open and meet the deep valleys where his should be.

“Please,” you beg, “please, I was only scared–”

“Of me? Sugarplum, you know me.”

You whimper and grasp his wrist as you snivel, “you’re hurting me–”

“You made me,” he rasps, “hiding like a bad girl.” He backs out, bringing you with him into the light as he clicks his tongue again. “What am I gonna tell Steve, huh? That his best gal was so mean to his best pal? You know he doesn’t like it when you act out.” He caresses your cheek with his other hand, his real hand. “He cares so much about you, sugarplum, he sent me all the way here to make sure you’re behaving.”

You pout as you peer up into his bottomless irises, so deep and blue. His hair is floppy as it falls apart in the middle. He looks as if he’s only just woke up. Even in only a hoodie and jeans, he makes a formidable figure.

“I am–”

“Shhhh,” he puts his thumb and index around your chin, “don’t lie. I’ll have to tell him about that too if you do.”

You press your other hand to his chest, feeling the firm muscle through the thick layer of his sweater. He purrs at your touch and looks down, poking his tongue out as he takes in your desperate attempt at resistance. He smirks and his eyes meet yours again, a growl creeping up his throat.

“Don’t be too sad, doll, I like playing with you,” he purrs as he wrenches you away and spins you to face the table, “I love it when a little kitten shows their claws.”

His hand slips down from your hair to the nape of your neck. You plant your palms against the table, arms shaking as he puts his strength into you. His metal grip pinches cruelly as his other hand crawls lightly along the hem of your nightgown, toying with the little ruffle there.

“Did he pick this? Or did you?” He leans forward to exhale across your crown.

You whimper as you fight to keep yourself standing. He shoves you and your arms collapse. You land on your elbows and cry out again.

“You don’t gotta say it, we both know he tells you what to wear and you do it like the pretty little doll you are, huh.”

He keeps you bent and slaps your ass, groping you through the thin cotton, his thumb rubbing the print on the outside, “strawberries, mmm, so sweet.”

He pushes the fabric up slowly and slides his boot between your bare feet. He tickles along the curve of your ass and purrs. Bumps rise on your naked skin as he shoves you down further, crushing your arms beneath you until your face is against the polished wood.

His touch follows along the shape of your ass to your cunt. You quiver and clench as he rubs along your folds. Your feet arch as you struggle to keep your toes on the floor. He flutters his fingertips further and delves between your lips, rolling over your bud firmly.

You murmur and reach an arm across the table. You curl your nails against the wood and whine as you turn your head, weeping freely as you kick a foot against his calf. He squeezes your neck until you still, another sob heaving from your chest.

“Please,” you claw at the table as you beg, “please, let me go–”

He snickers and ignores your pathetic pleas. He plays with your clit, slides two fingers around it and squeezes. As the pressure thrums in your bud, he dips back and brings his roughened fingertips against the pinpoint of nerves. You moan as his touch sends a current of electricity coursing through you.

You slap the table, your palm squeaking across the polish. You try to drag yourself higher, try to free yourself from him, but the vice of his fingers only tightens around your neck. You gurgle and gulp frantically as his irritation shows in the motion of his fingers.

“Be sweet for me, sugarplum,” he sneers as he pokes along your entrance, “hmm, I know you can be.”

He dips two fingers into you, stretching you to his knuckles. You walls clench him as you mewl. He wiggles his hand, keeping his fingers buried deep inside you. Your breath hitches and a shaky moan escapes your lungs.

“Mm, feels like ole cap’s been taking it easy on you,” he slides his fingers back slowly, hovering them just along your entrance as he lines up a third.

He pushes against your cunt, inch by inch he stretches you. You throw your arm back blindly, your fingers dancing fruitlessly along your ass as you try to stop him. You lift your head as far as you can as he works his fingers deeper. You arch your back as your thighs flex and quake.

He kicks your feet further apart and rams in to his knuckles. You yelp and drop your head, retracting your hand to bring a fist against the tabletop. He tilts his hand, rocking harshly against you as he jerks your body with each thrust.

“Look at that pussy. Clinging to me… desperate for me,” he gloats, “fuck, he’s barely gone a week and you’re tight as fuck.”

You sniffle and cover your face. You bend your arm over your head and rest your hand on his metal one, another pathetic attempt to push him away.

You can hear it. Hear how your body reacts without your permission. How he steals what he wants from you.

He drags his fingers out of you, smearing the betrayal up your ass and giving a mean pinch. He rescinds his touch, shifting behind you, boots set against your feet.

He bends his knees and you feel the naked graze of his tip again you. A new chill ripples up your spine. You grit your teeth as he rubs up and down your cunt, tapping along your entrance as if to mock your futility.

He centres himself and prods at you. Leaning in only to relent, basking in your weak whimpers and hollow whines. He frames his dick with his fingers and pushes into you. You can't help but sob louder as he invades you.

You gnash your teeth as he rocks himself deeper and deeper. You groan and once more claw at his hand against your neck. He slips it away to gather the fabric of your nightgown behind your waist. Twisting it taut as he carries a steady rhythm with his hips.

Your muscles rack as your cheek presses to the table and your arms fold helplessly at your sides. He grunts as he sinks to his limit, snapping his pelvis so you yipe. He chuckles and speeds up, goaded on by the disparity in your strength.

He releases the knot of fabric and trails his hand up your back. He hooks his hand around your shoulder and bends over you, rutting harder as he puffs against your hair.

"If you let me in, I don't have to break down the walls, doll," he snarls.

You moan and fling your hand back, latching onto the lock of hair that tickles your ear. He grunts as you tug, trying to hurt him anyway you can. He leans in and nips the back of your ear.

"You like it," he pants, "I grew it out so you got something to hang onto."

He laughs again. The derisive snicker turns your blood to ice. You can't hurt a man who feels nothing.

He slams against your ass mercilessly and you grasp his hair tighter. He fucks you without measure, frantically pumping into you as his head drapes down beside yours. His metal fingers dig into your shoulder tighter and tighter as his other hand frames your hip.

You yank the tangled strand again as you heave. It's not about hurting him any longer. It's about getting through it, that is until he's back again.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america

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