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prettyfastcars · 2 months

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Owned | Mob!Lando - part 2

Read part 1 here

Summary: Lando finally gets what he wants. Sure he had to use crooked ways to get it, but all’s fair when one is in love, isn’t it?

Themes: dark!mob!lando, breeding kink, smut, fluff, explicit language

“Did you do it?”

You asked as you were both in bed in your apartment, your head resting on his chest while his hand gently caressed your back. Your fingers mindlessly toyed with the chain around his neck.

Lando had been here with you every single night ever since you’d learned about your ex boyfriend’s tragic accident which happened on the same night you decided to break things off with him.

That night, you two had an argument and it was messy. After that he stepped out for a walk, then unfortunately got hit badly. The days following the accident were rough. You called Lando the morning after, crying as you told him what happened. He told you not to worry and that he was coming to take care of everything.

The moment he got there at your doorstep, everything passed by in a blur. You barely even remember the funeral, the headstone at the cemetery, mourning with your ex’s family. All you remember is Lando was right there.

And now that all of that was over, now that you had taken time to work through your emotions and feelings, and now that you had a taste of normality again, you couldn’t help but ask that question.

Lando sighed, “What makes you say that, baby?”

He had taken every precaution. His guys had even made sure there were no cameras around where the ‘accident’ happened.

“Just wondering,” You murmured. You went to get up, to pull away from him and get out of bed but Lando stopped you by rolling on top of you before you did. The heat of his body, the feeling of his warm skin against yours, suddenly you didn’t want to get out of this bed. Ever.

“You think I would lie to you about something like this? You think I would put you through all this on purpose?” His pretty eyes looked down at you. His soft lips, his messy hair, that chain hanging from his neck slightly brushing against your chest as he hovered above you. “Hmm?”

Of course, Lando knew he could never tell you the truth. It was better this way. He hated lying to you, but this was for your own good. He saw the way guilt immediately filled your eyes at the sound of his question.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “I think I need some more time to process everything.”

As much as he hated the thought of you being engrossed in the thoughts of another man, he nodded, agreeing.

He leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth softly, “The kids miss you.”

You gave him a slight smile then. “I miss them too.” He had told you that he had hired a temporary nanny for them, until you were ready to come back to work. He also said how they didn’t really like the new nanny and asked about your whereabouts each morning and night. “I’ll be back soon.” You promised.

He moved his mouth on top of yours and kissed you passionately, biting your lip before shoving his tongue past your lips and kissing you like he’s famished.

He’d been doing that a lot lately. Whenever he found you too deep in your thoughts, he’d find a way to distract you and make you forget for a while. Most of the time, you both ended up in bed.

Like right now.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him back. You moaned and whimpered, your bare body squirming under his. Lando's mouth left your lips as he kissed his way down your body, pulling the covers away in the process until he settled in between your legs. His handsome face just inches away from your dripping core.

“I miss having you in my home, you know that?” He whispered before he leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. “I miss seeing your face when I get home from work.”

Your body felt hotter and lighter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. He looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure.

“Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.

You opened your eyes and supported your upper body up, your elbows digging into the mattress. You watched how his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He maintained eye contact as he licked in between your wet folds again, making you whine as he teased you. His touch was deliberately slow, and pleasurably agonising.

“Come home with me.” He whispered before he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud until you came undone, thighs shaking as he kissed his way up your body again, hovering over you.

“I will,” You answered. “Soon.”

“How soon?” He leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

“Maybe in a couple of days.”

“You’re torturing me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Am I?”

“Yes,” He insisted. “I miss you.” He repeated. “When you come back to me, I’m never letting you leave my bed.”

You giggled again, running your fingers through his soft hair as he leaned in to kiss you again. His hand slipped in between your legs with ease, caressing your inner thighs again. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss given how sensitive you were.

You squirmed under him, and Lando smirked through the kiss as he slid his cock easily into you, pulling your legs up to wrap them around his waist. You moaned out loud again as he filled you up entirely.

He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head, whispering as he fucked you slowly, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He gasped, “Then you’ll be mine forever.” He stared into your eyes, lips parted as he fucked you gently.

His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans while he rolled his hips against yours. He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you squirmed under him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. “You’d be safe with me, just us and the kids. Huh, baby?”

“Yes…” You whined.

He bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he pounded into you. Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

“I can see it already,” He whispered, “You, walking around with a baby bump, in your little dresses,” He pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen while he kept pounding into you incessantly. “I can’t wait to spoil you rotten, baby. I’ll worship your body even more than I do now, I’ll buy you anything you wanted, fuck I’ll do anything for you.”

“Oh… Lando, please,” You whimpered.

You tightened around him as you felt him quicken his pace, pounding into you. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore.

His hand toyed with your clit, making you tremble. “Come for me.” He murmured, his voice now deeper. “Take all that cum, it’s all yours, baby. All yours.”

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, and came with a loud moan.

Lando came right after you. He didn’t pull out, but remained buried inside you. Both of you catching your breaths and hearts racing in sync. You were a whimpering mess as he collapsed on top of you.

“I fucking love you.” He whispered, breathless.

Lando left in the early hours of the morning. He hated leaving you, but his kids would need him. He left after giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He murmured against your skin.

On his way home, Lando got his phone out and immediately pulled up the camera footage. These past days, you’d been sleepier than usual so he had ample time to bring his guys in and have them install even more discreet cameras all over your home.

He didn’t see it as invading your privacy. But he had to make sure you were alright at all times, right?

So he watched you as you slept. Warm and safe under your blankets. “Everything’s gonna be okay, baby.” He whispered as he watched you shift around until you found a more comfy position. “I’ll take care of you.”

—

He couldn’t have been happier the day you decided to come back to work. Neither could he keep his hands off of you the moment the kids were napping during the day or sleeping at night.

“You’re moving in with me,” He growled into your ear one night, as he fucked you from behind while you were bent over his desk again. He grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body into him each time he thrust into you. “I don’t want you living in that apartment anymore. You hear me?”

You whined, barely able to hold on to the desk as he pounded into you. “I can’t…” You gasped, “I can’t just move in, I–,”

“Why?” He barked, “Why can’t you?” He leaned over you, his damp, warm chest pressing against your back. “Hmm?”

You turned your head to the side, gasping in pleasure as you tried to form a coherent sentence. “I can’t just… ” You desperately tried to get the right words out. “Maybe later, in a year or two if we’re still–,”

“Years?” He growled, fucking you harder. Your body crashed against the desk with each of his thrust, and you moaned at how his cock reached all the right places. “And if we’re still what?”

You whimpered when he bit down on your shoulder before pounding into you harder than before. “Together." You answered. "What if–,”

Lando pulled out, pulled you up from the desk and twisted you around so you faced him. He did it so quickly you barely processed any of it. One moment you were bent over his desk and the next you were facing him with his hand wrapped around your throat.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You secretly loved this side of him. Unpredictable. Wild. Dark.

“What did you just say to me?” He whispered, his voice surprisingly deeper than you’d ever heard. It made you shiver. “You think there’s even a slight possibility that you won’t end up being mine forever?” He leaned in just enough so his mouth brushed against yours. “You think this is a joke, baby? You think I’m just messing around with you?”

You trembled as he sat you down on the edge of the desk and slid his cock inside you again. The room was dark, the only light came from the dim scones on the wall and the moonlight coming in from the wide windows. Lando looked angry.

He tightened his grip around your throat just enough to make you whimper again as he resumed fucking you. “You’re mine.” He hissed. “There is no if,” He kept fucking into you even as you came, moaning and whimpering as you clenched around his cock, “You will be mine forever.”

You were too far gone, high on the orgasm he’d just given you that you didn’t hear the dark promise dripping from his words as he came inside you.

—

A couple of days later, one night as you put the kids to sleep, you received a phone call from a panicked neighbour of yours. What she said over the phone made you rush to Lando, trying to keep yourself from freaking out.

You found him in his bedroom and you couldn’t help the tears then.

“What’s going on, baby?” He wrapped his arms around you and held you until you were able to speak again. "What happened?"

“My neighbour called and… they’re being evacuated because–,” You took a deep breath, “My building is on fire, it’s… it’s pretty bad.” You sobbed, hugging him tightly. “My apartment, it’s all gone.”

“Hey, hey,” He cupped your face in his large hands and said, “Calm down, I’m here. Okay? I’ll handle this, baby. Don’t you worry.”

You buried your face into his chest, sniffling.

He hugged you tighter, kissing your temple and rubbing your back to comfort you. He hated it, being the reason behind why you were crying. But this was necessary, wasn’t it? You refused to move in with him because you liked your apartment. So he got rid of the apartment. The whole building in fact.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He murmured against your skin as he repeatedly kissed your forehead while you cried on his shoulder. I had to do it. He thought. How else would we live under the same roof?

—

You had no choice but to live with him after that incident. Apparently the authorities couldn’t find what started the fire, and any evidence was probably ash too.

As much as you missed your cosy apartment, living with Lando was like being in a dream.

You’d wake up in his arms, spend time with the kids, have breakfast like a family, then Lando would leave for ‘work’ and you’d kiss him goodbye at the door. You’d spend your entire day with the kids, reading, baking, playing in the yard. Then he’d come home and you’d spend the evening like a family again.

After putting the kids to bed, Lando would always, always drag you straight to bed where you’d fuck until one of you passed out, then resume in the morning and repeat.

Everything was perfect.

And just weeks after moving in with him, you found out you were pregnant. When you broke the news to him, he was almost giddy with excitement.

He refused to leave your side, to the point where he’d try to be home as much as possible and would only ever leave if something desperately needed his attention or intervention.

Many times you’d find him in the kids’ playroom, talking to them about having a newborn baby around. They were all excited.

It had become impossible for him to keep his hands off you, especially once you started showing. “You’re too beautiful to resist.” He’d tell you.

You would often wake up to find him wrapped around you, nuzzling your bump and kissing it. He would find you at random times during the day, and pull you into a room or drag you to his office or your shared bedroom and fuck you until you were both completely spent.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He’d whisper each time.

You noticed he would be extra careful with you. His touch was soft, he would always fuck you nice and slow, always looking at you to confirm he wasn’t hurting you and that you were enjoying it as much as he was.

“You don’t have to be so careful all the time, you know?” You whispered to him one night, your hands running through his hair while he laid his head on your bump, kissing it occasionally. “I’m just pregnant, I’m not made of glass.”

He left a kiss on your bump then lifted his head to look up at you. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” He whispered, “Or the baby.”

You smiled at him, caressing his pretty face. “We’re okay. You worry too much.”

He kissed his way up your body, his hips settling in between your legs again. You giggled as he slid inside you again. It was the third, or fourth, time tonight.

“You never get tired these days, I see.” You whined, back arching off the bed slightly as his mouth latched on to your sensitive nipple while he moved in and out of you in a pace that made you lose your mind. He knew you were extra sensitive these days, and he took full advantage of that.

–

Lando ended up hiring a helper to aid you in taking care of the kids. But the kind lady ended up doing all the work and you’d often find yourself with nothing but free time to do whatever you wanted.

You went to Lando regarding this, and the moment you showed up in his office he pulled you onto his lap and helped you ride him instead.

“This is a serious…” You gasped as he lifted your hips up before bringing you down his cock again, “...problem.”

“Mhm,” He mumbled, lips wrapped around your nipple again. His hands held you by the hips and he slowly thrust up into you. “Is it?”

“Yes,” You argued, placing your hands on his shoulders. You looked down and smiled at your growing bump, before you glared at him, “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Told me she was just here to help when in fact you hired her to do my actual work.”

He pulled his mouth away and smirked up at you. “You need rest, baby.” He thrust his hips up slightly harder, deeper each time until you were coming undone all over his cock again. It didn’t take much given how sensitive you were these days. When you both calmed down he said, “Now you have time to do all that you want.”

“I’m gonna get lazy.” You mumbled as you cuddled up to his side, your bump always got in the way but Lando still got as close as he could to you, wrapping his arms securely around you.

“You’re carrying our new baby, you’re allowed to be as lazy as you want.” He kissed you on the nose.

“So what, I’m just gonna be here doing nothing all day? Just read, and bake and make babies for you?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” He chuckled.

"Whatever." You groaned, “I’m too tired to be angry at you.”

He laughed. One of his hands reached out to caress your bump. “Let’s get you in bed.” He murmured against your forehead. “Okay, baby?”

You nodded.

–

By the time he got you cleaned up and in bed, you were already fast asleep. Lando checked on the kids one last time before climbing into bed with you. Pulling you close, he kissed you one more time.

Everything was perfect, just as he intended. There were some secrets he would take to his grave with him, some he would never share with you. Some truths he would never let come out; mainly the accident, and the fire.

But this right here was all that mattered, you and him together.

#lando norris #mob!lando #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #dark!lando

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natsarrownecklacx · 5 months

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Cruelty Is An Art Form Pt. 4

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 4,722

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- 18+ fic, minors DNI, Smut, Mean Mob Nat, Mentions of killing, confusing relationships dynamics/ feelings, descriptions of violence (noting too bad)

Series Masterlist

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

If a few days ago you had even a fleeting thought that you might be in this situation right now you would have admitted yourself for a voluntary seventy two hour hold. Natasha Romanoff, THE Natasha Romanoff, the mob boss, mass serial killer, ruthless, cold hearted woman that she is, just introduced you to her “babushka’ as her finance.

Eh, no. No thank you. This has been quite enough insanity for one bad dream. You’d like to wake up now. Be back in your home in your nice, warm and comfortable bed with your favorite stuffie, the one you’ve had since you were thirteen years old, tucked between your arms and your chest, holding the bear close to your heart where it belongs. Giving you every ounce of comfort you will need once you wake from this nightmare any moment now.

Seconds pass and you just stand there in shock. Unmoving. Not saying a word.

For the other two people in the room the whole thing is a little awkward. You, however, are simply waiting until your brain decides to stop having a stroke and wake you from this madness.

Any second now. Just gonna wake up. With everything but subtlety you bring your left hand to your right forearms and pinch. Hard. You wince slightly at the pain but that's it. Nothing else happens. Not waking up? Okay then.

Natasha clears her throat and snaps you from your panicked state of delusion. Damnit. Why couldn’t you be dreaming.

You look to the redhead, the question of what the fuck is going on right at the tip of your toung ready to be unleashed. Natasha only has to raise her brow at you, daring you to open your mouth, to shut you up.

You let your mouth fall closed and you instinctively swallow your words, nodding vaguely in submission before turning your sights on the other, older, women in the room. You smile at her apologetically and do your best to smooth things over. “Hi.” You say, more awkwardly then you would have hoped to. So you clear your throat again. “Sorry. I’m just a little nervous.” You mumble, whipping your now sweaty hands on your pants.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear.” The older woman says softly and you can see in her smile that she is doing her best to reassure you. She waddles toward you, well, more to do the old woman shuffle, and although you have no reason to fear her, you have to resist the urge to take a step back.

If the older woman notices your tense posture she chooses not to act on it, which you are grateful for, because the second she puts her arms around you in a warm embrace you feel the tightness in your chest ease. You all but melt in her comforting embrace and for a slip second it

makes you forget about the situation you're in.

It's the first time since you left that bar that you feel almost completely at ease. A tear wells up in your eye as you think of it, as you let yourself have this comfort. You might have even let that tear fall, let it track its way down your face as a sign of your exhaustion with the whole situation and the fear you feel.

But Natasha is looking at you with a tilt to her head, a curious look in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips. It almost looks as if she likes that you and her grandmother are getting along. Disgusting. If there was one thing in this life that you would absolutely NOT be doing, it would be causing that evil woman to smile that way. As if something inside her cold, dead, void of a heart might actually start beating again.

You glare at the woman and turn your face away, unable to look at her stupid green eyes anymore.

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.” You say, pulling away from the embrace but the older woman keeps you in her grasp, her hands holding your forearms loosely.

“Oh please.” The woman scoffs lightheartedly, as if the two of you knew each other well. “Call me Galina. We are going to be family after all, are we not.”

You let out a nervous chuckle at her words, hoping for your sake that it sounds more like a genuine laugh. “I… suppose we are.” You smile at her, not completely hating the idea of being related to the woman, but her granddaughter? You’d rather sleep on a bed with nails then tie yourself to that woman in such a way.

Galina, gives your arms a comforting squeeze, sending you another smile before pulling away and moving in the direction of the living room. She stops just as she passes Natasha and reaches out to squeeze her arm, similarly to how she did yours.

“I like her, Natalia.” She says, in an approving manner. “She’s nice and very polite.” She leans in closer then, as if telling her granddaughter a secret. “And she’s very pretty.”

You smile at the woman bashfully for her comment, your eyes drifting from her to the redhead beside her when you feel green eyes looking at you.

“Yeah.” Natasha says, her eyes locked on you and looking strangely soft as she does. “She really is, isn't she.”

You blush at Natasha’s words and try to taper down the surge of self loathing you feel at the uncontrollable reaction you have to her. You suddenly find the floor very interesting and decide to examine the tile in favor of keeping your eyes away from the woman.

Galina pats Natasha on the arm then and shuffles off to the living room as if nothing had happened. Natasha waits for her granny to be out of the room before turning to you, one brow raised and a shit eating grin on her face as she takes in the sight of your blush tinted cheeks. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t really have to. She seems to have this natural talent to annoy you without even saying a word.

She opens one arm out and gestures toward the hall Galina had disappeared down, silently commanding you to follow her. You narrow your eyes at the widow, making yourself look as annoyed with her as you can, while still trying to tamper down the red on your face. Wordlessly, you brush past her, making sure not to look at her and follow Galina into the living room.

———————

Natasha is sitting next to you on the couch, nearly on top of you with how close she is, her hand resting comfortingly, or threateningly, on your thigh. She’s leaning her side into yours, an easy, natural laugh passing her lips every so often and a permanent smile on her face.

Sometimes she runs her thumb over your thigh or squeezes the plush skin softly in her hold. You can’t help but let your eyes drift to the action each time, nor can you help it when your eyes drift to her face right after, or the immediate frustration you feel when you see that she’s already looking at you, an unfamiliar look on her face. Then, seconds later, a sly smile slides its way over her lips. Every. Single. Time.

Oh what you wouldn’t give to be able to just reach your hands up and whip that self assured, cocky look off her face. To just grab her and bash her head against the table. Harshly. Repeatedly. Until either she, or the table, breaks.

It seems as though your brain, all sides, rational and irrational, want the same thing and have decided to work against you for that common goal, because without even realizing it you’ve raised your hands to cup Natasha’s face. Her dark green eyes widen a fraction, her brows shooting up almost into her hairline.

You can see the confusion and intrigue swimming in her eyes. Dammit. You get lost in those graphic thoughts from seconds ago, staring into Natasha’s eyes. You could just tighten your hold on her and give her a good smack against the table in front of you. Or the back of the couch. Or your knee if you angled it just right. Or-

Natasha’s eyes slip closed, her head turning to nuzzle into your left hand and oh god. Why does she look so adorable right now? Without even realizing it you’d begun to rub your thumbs across her cheeks in a soothing motion. Your bodies are both turned to face each other fully, how did that happen, when did that happen.

You want to stop. You should stop. But she looks so comfortable, so content. A thought crosses your mind, when’s the last time anyones held her like this? And your heart cracks just a little, the solid ball of hatred you hold for her melting, even just slightly.

“Aww look at the two of you.” Galina, coos from her seat opposite to the one you and Natasha currently occupy. “You two truly make quite the pair.”

Thank god for this woman and her comments. The old woman's words bring you back to yourself, your hands retracting from the widow's face as though her skin and physically scorched you.

You send Galina what you hope is a polite, shy smile and lean back into the couch, brushing Natasha’s hand off your thigh inconspicuously in the process.

Natasha takes a few seconds before opening her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the tingle your touch has left on her skin. When she does open her eyes she looks slightly out of it, but she doesn’t try to touch you again. She simply sits and makes polite small talk with her babushka, and sometimes you, until the woman decides to leave.

“It was lovely to meet you, dear.” Glina says, as you all stand at the front door saying your goodbyes. The old woman leans in to give you another hug, this time giving you a light squeeze as she does so.

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. Romanoff.” You say, quickly correcting yourself when you see the playful glare the old woman sends your way. “Right, Sorry. It was nice to meet you, Galina.”

The older woman pats your back in approval and pulls away smiling, making sure to send an appreciative wink your way before turning to take her granddaughter into her arms. Natasha seems to melt against the other woman, the tension in her body all but disappears the second she’s in her arms. Maybe she just has that magic effect on everyone.

The sight is almost endearing, if it didn’t spike an odd, unwelcome feeling in your chest. It makes a daunting realization fall on your shoulders with a weight you're not sure you’ve ever felt before.

Natasha is just a woman. Just a person, like you or anyone else. She’s a daughter. A granddaughter. She isn’t evil in its purest form. Not Satan made flesh. She wasn’t just dropped on this earth one day to test humanity. Yet she still commits the most heinous crimes. Kills in the most disturbing ways. Still finds art in her cruelty.

She tried to follow the warmth of your hand when you’d pulled away from her face earlier, you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’d seen it, convinced yourself that it was a trick your eyes played on you. Because that would mean she needed something. Needed kind and gentle touch, human interaction beyond her work, her killing. Killing she enjoys, you remind yourself and push away the borderline hurt in your chest at the idea that Natasha might be touch starved.

Natasha pulls away from her grandmother after a minute and offers to drive her home herself, to “make sure she gets there safely.” There’s a smile on her face, a kind and caring one and a look in her eyes you can’t quite place. You would have never guessed her to be an attentive person, even towards her grandmother.

You have to look away from her, turning your head to the side before you can lose yourself trying any other traces of humanity in the redhead.

Natasha notices the movement out of the corner of her eye but she chooses not to comment on it, instead keeping her attention on the older woman in front of her, who is now telling Natasha that she worries far too much for her safety and she will be perfectly fine with her driver.

————————————-

“Why did you tell your grandmother we’re engaged?” You ask the second Natasaha comes back from walking her grandmother to the car, the door barely closed fully behind her.

Natasha sighs and leans her forehead against the cool glass of the door. She takes a deep breath, counting to ten in her head and trying to stave off the irritation she feels at your question. She turns from the door toward you, her eyes catching on the way your arms have crossed protectively over your chest, causing your breasts to peek out over your top.

“Natasha?” You push, snappily and Natasha has to yet again swallow her irritation in favor of keeping on your good side. Or as close to your good side as she can get. All she really needs is for you to be compliant, to not cause a fuss or get any ideas of running away. That would cause far too much of a headache then she could handle right now. But she wants more than that, so she has to behave herself, at least as much as she can. She does still have to teach you a lesson on teasing her though.

She wants to tell you exactly that. That you should just stop talking and get on your knees. Put your mouth to better use and fix her building frustrations by burying your tongue between her legs.

But in all honesty right now she’s a little too caught up in the fact that you’ve just said her name. Just let it roll off your tongue as if it's the most natural thing in the world. God what she wouldn’t give to hear you say it in much different circumstances. Though you do look cute being all mad at her, a downward, almost pouting lilt to your lips, your brows furrowed and your arms crossed over each other in a defensive stance.

Instead she lets an easy, teasing smile slider over her face. She watches amusedly as your eyes narrow at her, as if knowing she wasn’t about to give you any form of straight answer.

“Why were you so quick to play along, Angel?” She taunts, taking a teasing step toward you. “Do you like the idea of being my wife?” You visibly gulp at her words and a hot feeling flares in her stomach as she watches you falter and take a step back.

“What? No.” You answer, a consciously added tone of disgust in your voice as you watch her continue her stalk toward you and you continue to walk blindly back.

“See, I think you're lying, pretty girl.” She says, a lilt to her voice that makes you think she’s doing more than just teasing now, she’s daring you to disagree, challenging you to prove her wrong.

Your back hits a wall and your breath catches in your throat. You watch, frozen, as a sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, a borderline ravenous look in her eyes as she slowly takes you in, her tongue swiping over her lips, wetting them as if preparing to press them to something, anything, in a few moments. You don’t know if you want her to or not.

“I think you love the idea of being my pretty little wife.” She’s standing in front of you now, less than a shaky breath away, her chin tilted down slightly to be able to look you in the eye.

She leans forward, her hand landing with a silent thud against the wall right next to your head, the other hand makes its way from your thigh up tp your hip, starting out as a light touch, her finger tips barley grazing your skin, only for her hold to tighter, possessively, wantingly, when she finds the dib of your hip.

“You're delusional.” You bite back, having just about enough of this woman. She doesn’t get to force you into these situations and then tell you it's what you want, nor does she get to call you a liar for denying her.

“Oh?” She taunts, moving forward more, her body now mere inches from yours, effectively changing you in. “So you wouldn’t like to be my pretty little stay at home wife.” She raises her brow questioningly, a faux skeptical look on her face. “You don’t want to have absolutely no worries? Just let me take care of everything? Take care of you?”

Natasha traces the hand on your hip back down to your thigh, hooking her fingers under your knee and pulling your leg up to rest on her hip. Your eyes widen, her actions having left you more open to her, more vulnerable.

“I could spoil you, Angel. I’d do anything for you, get anything for you. Whatever your heart desires. Say it and it's yours.”

You should look away from her, you should WANT to look away from her. Avert your eyes from her dark green eyes and her full lips, the ends of them curled into a smirk. Something in your chest screams at you to look away, take your eyes off this demoness before she swallows you whole. She has too much power already, you don’t want to give her anymore. You won’t.

But with her standing this close you can feel the heat radiating off of her, see a look in her eyes that seems something scary like genuine. She steps closer, closing the gap between you, your heart now thudding so hard in your chest you're sure she must feel it against her own.

You watch as her eyes drop to your lips for a full three seconds, her tongue swiping at her own again, before her eyes flick back to yours. She removes her hand from the wall and brings it to cup your cheek, the warmth and gentleness of it taking you by surprise. She tilts her head down more, drawing her lips closer to yours, her eyes almost pleading as she whispers, her breath fanning across your face as she does. “Let me take care of you, Angel.”

You take a sharp intake of air and the following sound that passes your lips is entirely involuntary, only you're far too swept up in her to care. You see something pass through her eyes, there and go faster then you can decipher what it is or what it means. Then again, do you really care? With her standing so close, touching you so gently, holding you like this and saying all the right things.

“Please.” You whisper back, hoping she doesn't know how much you mean it. Hoping she doesn’t catch the hint of longing and submission in your voice.

Natasha smiles and leans in to let her lips hover over your, she barely lets them touch, just grazing them before moving to trace them over the skin of your cheek, over to your ear. She smirks to herself at the noise of protest you let out, wanting her lips on yours in a more forceful way.

“What's wrong, Angel?” She asks, knowing damn well what she's doing. She moves her kisses down your neck, smirking against your skin when she feels you tilt your head back, giving her more room to work. She feels your leg held on her hip tighten against her, one of your arms up around her neck, holding her close to you and a quiet moan falls past your lips when she nips at your pulse point. She doesn’t think this can get any better for her right now.

“Natasha.” You say breathly, a hint of neediness laced through her name. “Please.”

Jesus Christ. How is she meant to go through with this now? How is she meant to pull away when she knows that's just a taste of what she’ll get if she carries on. Fuck it. She can indulge herself a little longer.

“You want it, Angel?” You nod fervently, a whine bubbling up in your throat as you push your body more against hers.

Natasha pulls away, finding a sinister satisfaction in the desperate look on your face. “Say it.” She says, already catching the hesitation in your eyes. “Say you want me to fuck you.” You swallow at her words and finally find it in you to look away from her.

Natasha however only wants your eyes on her. In one fluid motion she has her leg slotted between yours, a delicious pressure hitting your core. You moan lowly and press yourself against her, giving your hips one greedy thrust against her.

She stops you with a hand on your hips and your eyes snap back to her. “Tell me or I’ll stop.” She says firmly.

“I- I want…” You manage to say but seem to lose your voice and find yourself unable to finish your sentence.

“You want what Angel? You want me to make you come?” Natasha says, moving down to place open mouth kisses on your neck, marking you as hers. “With my fingers?” She says between kisses. “My mouth?” Another kiss. “You’d feel so good coming apart on my tongue.” You groan at her words and try to grate your hips against her.

“Would you take my strap if I asked, Angel? Let me fill you like the good girl I know you want to be for me.” Your breath hitches at her words and Natasha makes a mental note to use your apparent praise kink against you whenever she can.

“Or maybe you're happy to come as you are. Riding my thigh just like a desperate little thing. You gonna make a mess on my new pants, angel?”

“Yes.” You gasp, the pressure between your legs becoming borderline unbearable. “Please let me ride your thigh Mo- Natasha. Please let me come.”

A sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, her hold on your hips loosening, allowing you to move a little. “Go ahead Angel. Make yourself feel good on mommy’s thigh.”

You moan loudly at her words, wasting absolutely no time before rolling your hips against her. Natasha watches in awe as you grind yourself against her, the need between her own legs building at the sight.

She tries to move her hand from your hip but your eyes snap to her with a pleading look and your hand grabs her wrist keeping it in place. “Guide me.” You say, no trace of embarrassment at voicing your needs and Natasha can’t help the hot arousal she feels. “Please.”

“Well when you ask so politely, Angel, how am I supposed to say no.” Natasha moves both her hands to your hips, grabbing at them greedily, guiding you against her thigh. The reaction it draws from you is immediate. You push yourself harder against her, a lewd moan falling past your lip when you feel her tense her thigh beneath you.

Your hands fly to her shoulders, using her to anchor you, to pull her closer. “Feels good.” You murmur, dropping your head into the crook of her neck, face down in her shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” She answers and even though you can’t see her you know her brow is raised and a smirk rests on her face. “Is mommy making you feel good, angel.” She teases, tensing her thigh and lifting it against you while pressing you down with her hands.

You nod against her shoulder and turn your face against her neck, your hot breath hitting her sensitive skin. You whine, your left hand coming up to weave into the hair at the back of her head. You're so close. You can feel it. Natasha can feel it.

You let out a shuddering breath and Natasha knows she either has to pull herself away now or let her plan fly out the window, and with it, her vantage point. She has to teach you a lesson, she has to show you how it feels, to know that you're at least half as sexually frustrated as she is.

Her body is hot against yours, her all consuming presence both grounding and drowning you at the same time, and you're ready to let yourself fall into her completely.

She pulls away, rips herself from you and the startling cold of the now empty space where she was is altogether too sudden. You whine and reach out for her, wanting her to come back, wanting her warmth, wanting her to finish what she stated.

You look up at her through tearful eyes, the knowing, smug look on her face hitting you just as hard as the wave of cold moments ago. “Now you know how it feels.” She says, her arms hanging lazily by her sides, as though she is completely unbothered by any of this.

You don't say anything in response. You don’t even want to look at her. You turn away from her, silently and make your way toward your room, eyes trained straight ahead of you until you close and lock the door once you are inside.

You don’t see the way Natasha’s face drops. Or the way she moves to reach out to you but ultimately decides against it.

You need a shower, a warm one. You walk toward what looks like a bathroom door, removing your close as you go, uncaring of what you'll do with yourself afterward. You open the door and just as you thought a nice, decent sized bathroom is revealed. You don’t even take the time to look it over, simply make your way toward the shower, turn the water to hot and step inside.

You need that warmth back. She took it from you too soon, you were too comfortable, too close. How could you have believed what she was saying, that she would take care of you? That she wanted to? How stupid could you be?

It feels wrong, everything does, you do. Having been that willing feels wrong. Missing her arms around you feels wrong. The lack of her heat feels wrong. The fact that she’s not here feels wrong.

You close your eyes and sigh. This has all gotten so confusing. You hate her, there that’s it, not so confusing. But you wanted to believe what she said. You wanted to believe that she touched you the way she did, whispered in your ear the way she did, for a reason beyond just lust or amusement.

You want her. No. Yes. You can’t. You huff, annoyed with yourself and your dumb confused brain.

You think about her, trying to make ssense of it all. You remember the way she held you, the feeling of her lips on your skin. The way you felt when she touched you, when she told you she wanted to take care of you. That she wanted you to be her wife.

You remember her hands guiding you, you remember asking her to. You remember letting yourself call her mommy, in a way you’ve never been compelled to do with anyone before. You remember the way she looked when you said it, the way she called herself it right after.

Your hands trail over your wet skin and drop between your legs, your fingers roaming warm skin until they find what they are desperate to touch.

You drop two fingers to circle your clit, letting a moan fall past your lips. You slip one finger inside, then another. You come with one hand covering your mouth, head leaning back against the cool tiled wall and two fingers buried deep inside you.

If only one thing was going to come out of it today, it would be the fact that you were now significantly less frustrated. The same couldn't be said for Natasha, who heard your moan as she was on her way to speak to you.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n- this took ages because I’ve genuinely been up the walls and barely been able to write 😭 hope ye like it tho

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Missing

This is so dumb. Imma post it anyway. This is more of a pure ridiculousness and fluff fever dream with grumpy mob Bucky and sunshine reader, was in the mood for a lil sassy Bucky.

A silly part 2

“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE”

Bucky’s men swallowed thickly, staring lowly at their feet while he glared at them, their silence angering him more. How could they let this happen.

“So none of you. NONE OF YOU thought to keep an eye on her to make sure nothing happened to her?!”

Silence.

“I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU TO TAKE CARE OF HER WHILE I WAS GONE”

Sam and Steve shook their heads a the group, they should have known better than to be so careless, this wouldn’t have happened under their watch.

“Fucking hell, I leave you idiots in charge for 5 days, 5 FUCKING DAYS, and that was some how too much?!”

Bucky sucked in a breath, storming to his office, deciding he could tell them off later. Right now, he had bigger problems and the longer he waited, the harder it would be to get her back. His baby. His sweet heart. His angel. His everything. Steve and Sam followed, ready to search the entirety of New York all day and night if they had to.

“Buck, what do you plan on doing, she could be anywhere, we can send the team to look-

“I’m not sending those idiots” Bucky rubbed his temples before pulling up his laptop. The scowl from his face dropped when he saw the little blinking red dot on the screen. “Thank fuck, her tracking device is still working”

“You put a tracking device on her?” Sam gawked, before snorting and shaking his head. Of course the mobster did, how could he expect any less.

“Well, now you see why I did” Bucky shrugged, turning the laptop for the other two men to see. The coordinates weren’t near them but it didn’t matter. “I don’t get how the fuck she ended up there, but we have to go now, lets go”

Bucky couldn’t help the tick of his jaw, the twitch of his fingers as they drove down the streets to get to her. He narrowed his eyes as they neared the location, he didn’t care what or who he’d have to face, he would get her back if it meant he had to burn the cutesy little house to the ground.

The three men hopped out of the black SUV, guns and knives in check, taking long strides to the little porch of the house and straight to the door. Bucky wasted no time, his fist flying to the door. As soon as it opened, he stared down at you, his jaw clenched, chest heaving.

“Where is she”

5 Days ago

You yelped feeling a warm soft ball of fur brush by your legs as you restocked some flowers your stall. You looked down to see a pair of bright blue eyes looking up at you, a sweet little white kitten slinking around your ankles.

“Oh hello” You giggled, as the feline purred, rubbing herself and nuzzling into your leg, lifting her paws up so you could carry her. You smiled, cradling her in your arms; her perfect silky soft fur and gold jeweled collar indicated she was definitely not a stray.

“Who do you belong to princess” You carefully looked at her collar, only to find her name on it without an address. “Hmm Alpine. What will I do with you sweetie?” You cooed while she nudged her face into your neck, her paws kneading into your skin.

“I suppose you can stay with me and we can put some posters up for your owners to come find you?”

“Meow”

You giggled, deciding to close the stall early for the afternoon, making your way down to the pet store to grab a few tins of food and other supplies for your new guest, unsure of how long she’d be with you (though you secretly hoped her owners wouldn’t come for her too soon).

“Hmm little princess like you, how about this soft cat bed?”

Halfway through your shopping trip, you forgot Alpine wasn’t actually yours, filling the cart with treats, toys, a bed and a number of other things you certainly didn’t need. You couldn't help it though, cooing at the little ball of fluff that contently curled up in your arms as you walked up and down the aisles.

Of course.

She loved all her toys. And ate all her food. And was the most polite little house guest. Her daddy taught her proper manners.

Except.

She never used the bed.

No.

In the middle of the night you felt 4 tiny paws climb over your side, nuzzling itself into the crook of your neck, her purring as loud as a motor boat. You sighed to yourself, snuggling Alpine in your arms, wondering how much time you’d get to spend with the fur baby.

Present

You jumped, hearing loud banging at your door; dropping your rolling pin on the counter. You ran to the door, blinking up at the 3 huge men at your doorway with wide eyes, all of them staring down at you, the one in the middle looked like he was going to just walk right in.

“Where is she”

“Who-

You blinked again in confusion before connecting the dots; the chain around Bucky’s wrist was very similar to the one Alpine wore as a collar. You bit back a giggle, looking at the large man in front of you. His rings, dark suit and the gun poking from his waist band was a stark contrast to the little ball of fluff you had housed for five days.

“Oh! You’re here for Alpine?”

You stepped aside, letting all three men into your home. Bucky paused for a moment after he actually look in his surroundings. Your home reminded him of a cute doll house; a small porch with a swing. The outside painted a soft yellow. Flowers were all around your garden. The inside of your house smelled like cinnamon and vanilla with pictures of family decorating the walls. It was adorable.

“Come with me, I’m sure she’s still where I left her”

You led the mob boss down the hall to the living room and Bucky’s heart was beating a little faster than usual. You were in a dotted dress, an apron still around your waist. Your hair was still a little tousled from your time in the kitchen; smearing's of flour streaks your nose and cheeks.

You looked like a doll.

The most adorable- No. Focus.

Sam and Steve glanced at each other, smirking, watching Bucky give you heart eyes as he trailed behind you, the two whispering while you both disappeared into the living room.

“Bet you 50, Alpine gets a spot at the altar”

“The altar?”

“When they get married” Sam shrugged, while Steve snorted.

“Alpine, look whose here” You smiled softly, while Bucky’s heart leapt seeing his little princess curled up in one of your sweaters, her paws batting at the strings of your hoodie. She perked up, scampering off the couch and into Bucky’s arms, purring and burying herself into his chest.

“Hey sweet girl” Bucky whispered, kissing the top of her head. “You went on an adventure, huh?” He scratched her behind the ears, giving her all the kisses she had missed out on for days. “Daddy missed you baby”

Your heart melted, looking at how Alpine nearly disappeared in Bucky’s large arms and the way he was so soft for his little fur baby. His eyes were glazed over, cooing and kissing her. It was also then that you realized he was incredibly handsome. Blue eyes like Alpine, tan skin, stubble covering his cheeks, pink lips. Beautiful.

“How did you know she was here?” You hesitantly took a step closer to stroke the top of her head. Bucky smiled at the way Alpine responded to you as she leaned into your touch, on cloud nine now that she had a possible mommy to play with-

“Oh” Bucky blushed again, realizing he had essentially just barged into your home without warning, not actually telling you who he was, or what he was even there for. “Her collar; it has a tracker”

“I-I um- brought some stuff for her, you-you can take it with you if you like?” You quickly stepped away to grab the box of the things you had bought for her and Bucky’s heart leapt again at your sweetness. “She didn’t use her bed, only slept with me”

“Yeah, her daddy would’ve probably done the same if you found him instead- ow” Sam whispered before he yelped when Steve flicked his hear, trying to contain his laugh.

Bucky thanked you, not trusting himself to speak each time you looked at him with your sweet eyes. He wanted to give you something to taking such good care of his baby but of course you refused and he only fell for you more. Alpine mewed, looking back longingly as the SUVs pulled out of the driveway before lookin at her dad right in the eye. Why were you not coming with them?

*****

“Alp?”

Bucky set down the book he was reading, as Alpine slinked out of bed, making her way over to the box of stuff you had bought for her. She dragged a sweater of yours that had fallen into the box, pulling it up onto the bed and kneading it before making her self comfortable, burying her face in, purring loudly. Bucky snorted, wrapping her up in the sweater and cradling her, clearly he wasn’t the only one that had spent all day thinking about you.

“You like her huh?” Bucky looked down at the sassy thing in his arm; the slow blink she gave him was all he needed to know. “You want her to be your mommy?” Bucky blinked to himself, shaking his head. What was he doing, taking relationship advice from his cat. “I’m getting a head of myself”

“Yeah, starting with the fact that you’re talking to a cat. Now go ask her out”

Bucky growled, rolling his eyes, hearing Sam’s muffled cackle through his closed door. Sam wasn’t wrong though.

He had to ask you out.

*****

“Make it 100. 100 bucks Alpine is at the wedding”

“Add another 5, she’ll officiate the wedding”

“You think he’ll want Alp on our side with the groomsmen or with her”

“There won’t be any groomsmen left alive if you all don’t shut the fuck up”

*Whispers*

“Alp will be with the groomsmen”

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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

Text

Caiju Clean-Up Crew (NSFW) Ft: Momo

When you first came to Earth you were surprised at how kind the Earthlings were, despite being in a constant war with the kaiju. It was endearing, to say the least, but that was two, or three no 5 years ago. Now you were fully integrated and couldn't leave all that cleanly, so you got a job at the Kaiju defense force clean-up team and lived with your friend Momo Hirai, a highly loved and popular anti-Kaiju fighter.

While at work a new employee approached you asking to go to lunch with you. You tell the lady politely that you already have plans to have lunch with your roommate and she sighs before leaving you alone. You finish cleaning up the pieces of Kero Kero, and check your watch,

“Okay, lunchtime,” you say. You wave your friends off and jaunt over to the office. Mono is waiting for you outside in her civilian clothes and mask. So she wouldn't be mobbed by adoring fans

“Ready?” she asked. You nod as you follow her.

The both of you go to the garden of the Anti-Kaiju Defense Force Headquarters. You open the lunch boxes you packed for the both of you. Momo smiled as you handed her food.

“You know what I love most about your cooking Dai-san?” Momo asks you

“The fact that I don't have to make it,” Momo said before taking out her chopsticks and digging in.

“Oh Daihouzan sensei.” you hear a voice come. You groan as if it were the new worker from earlier. She was pretty, too pretty she drew too much attention to herself and it didn't bode well for the flying under the radar you had been doing for the last year.

“Uh Yeah Mrs Chou.” How can I help you?” you asked Mrs Chou

“Oh so polite, but please call me Chewy everyone does.” you nod at Chae’s request

“Okay, Chewy how may I help you,” you respond

“ I heard you got the highest recorded score for the aptitude test in the history of the AKDF. I was wondering if you could help me as I'm retaking it in three weeks and I'd like to move from clean up to the frontlines and I figure who better to teach me than the prodigy himself.” Chewy says to you. You sigh seeing the optimism and hope in her eyes, but before you can dash little Chewy’s dreams Momo steps in.

“I'll work with you,” she says with a rare smile you recognize as a challenge. You cock an eyebrow at your roommate. “Besides you don't want Dai-san as a teacher, he will overload you with information you don't need.” Momo teased.

“Hey they had to change the test because of me,” you said defensively with pride.

Momo rolls her eyes and then faces Tzuyu. “We’ll get you in top shape regardless,” she says

Tzuyu smiles and then thanks the both of you before leaving. You turn to your roommate confused.

“Why are you getting her hopes up? You know how the AKDF are.”

“Because we need more lady front liners and you are too pessimistic,” she says

You tilt your head and reply, “Well if everything was not so engrossed in politics I would have helped her, but the higher-ups they'll eat her alive.”

“Good thing we're going to make sure that doesn't happen,” Momo stated matter of fact

“What do you mean we? You agreed to tutor her,” you called Ge

“Please Dai-san that big ole heart of yours is going help and you know it.”

You groan as the both of you finish up lunch and then head back to work.

The rest of the shift lacks considerable amounts of excitement so Momo and you are both able to head home rather easily and earlier than normal. You and Momo arrive home within seconds of each other. You sit on the stool by your shared countertop when she opens the door. She smiles at you seductively. She grabs you in a hug. You can feel the stress in her body intertwined with her body as much as her curves are.

“What happened today ?” You ask

“What?” Momo responded

“Your tension. It's like if someone injected cortisol into every part of you.” you follow up

“What?” Momo said

“The stress chemical,” you explain Momo nods.

“I always forget how smart you are because of how lazy you are,” Mom says.

“So you're just going to ignore my question? What's up? Is something wrong.”

“No big dog everything is fine. It's just I have been testing a new anti-kaiju weapon, and it's been quite…what's that word you use when something makes you tired tolling?”

“It's probably taxing. Or you could mean it taking a toll.”

Momo clapped and said “The first one.” you smiled at your roommate.

Momo yawns before looking to you for comfort

“I know it's my turn to do dinner and lunch but Dai-san can you do it? I am so tired Dai-san can you help me shower too? I'm too tired after today's fight,” she says with a teasing smile. You consider her words. Your roommate was gorgeous by both Hyperion and human standards so you couldn't complain seeing her body you were also drained from your work today so it was not as enticing a proposition, but when you saw her fall asleep standing you knew she was exhausted. You catch Momo luckily before she falls and she smiles at you. “Thanks Dai-San.”

you smile saying “Any time.” you pick up the slightly older woman and carry her to your apartment’s shared bathroom. You sit her on the toilet before readying the bath and boiling and grabbing all the ingredients for a quick 30-minute meal out. You head back to the bathroom where Momo is already asleep again. Her breathing is fatigued something you have seen before many nights when the two of you would study relentlessly during training camp for the AKDF. You smile as you get up and help her undress. As you leave her grasp to let her get into the tub she grabs you.

“Please stay,” she says.

“But.” You try to respond but Momo counters

“Please” You knew she had you when her eyes did that big pleading thing where she looked at you like a small animal. Helpless and vulnerable. So you relent. You undress as well which causes Momo to blush.

“What? I’m not wasting water if you want me to stay with you, we are showering together like old times.” Momo chuckled as you took your shirt off.

“Wow, you’ve let yourself go.” She teased.

You cock an eyebrow before saying, “Hey watch it. One more snippy comment and I’ll leave.”

Momo nods then shuffles slowly to the bath. As the two of you clean the other off she sighs and says, “I have been so tired lately.”

“Me too and going to sleep doesn’t help as well.” You agree

“Yeah, I keep having this dream of being chased by a giant kaiju.” Momo states

You turn to her, “Wait really? What kind?”

You ask her and she briefly describes the same Kaiju who had been chasing you as well in your dreams. You groan and get up. Momo looks at you confused.

“I’ll be right back.” You say

“Wait why?” Momo asks

“We might have an infestation.” You say. Momo snaps to attention and follows.

The two of you get dressed and head outside of your apartment. You notice every acting progressively more sluggish and tired. This serves as only more fuel for your theory. You walk out of the building grab a big rock and throw it at a window. When the window doesn’t break you turn to Momo. She nods and heads back to HQ. Not wanting to waste the time though you find a quiet place with no prying eyes and take out your rizer. You use it to transform into your Hyperion form where you see the leaching kaiju attached to your building. You grab the camouflaged kaiju and slam it safely away from your building. Without wasting any time you use your Special particle beam to kill it and fly away looking for a safe place to go. Change back into your human form. On the way back to your apartment you pick up one of Momo’s favorite sodas to allay suspicion.

When you arrive back at the complex Momo is there she turns at you.

“Where did you go.”

You hand her the soda and she takes it graciously.

“Hyperman showed up and killed the kaiju for us,” Momo says relaxed. You nod. “I know I was not a fan of his but I do appreciate his return. At least this once.”

You nod and say, “Well at least we can rest now.” Momo raises an eyebrow

“I’m feeling rejuvenated. We should spar.” Momo said shadowboxing your way. You smirked at her but eventually let her have her way. You follow her back to the HQ. The two of you badge to the surprise of the attendant waiting

“Oh, Mrs. Hirai good to see you.”

“Great to see you, Mina.” You wave at the attendant

“Good to see you Mrs Myuoi.” You say. The attendant who was also a frontline fighter on leave for mental health smiled

“Please Daihouzan you don’t have to call me that.”

“I do when you outrank me.” You tease

“Oh please we both know half our defense team wouldn’t be here without our “Friend-Father”” Mina fires back.

You shrug. “How’s Dahyun?” You ask.

“Oh, she’s good. She has been working hard for her next promotion so she can join us in the frontline fights. You should reach out she misses you.” You chuckle.

“She knows where my office is, and my open-door policy hasn’t changed.” Mina nodded and said that she’d tell Dahyun then. The two of you walk to a sparring room that should have been empty but was full with Drill Instructor Jihyo teaching a group of recruits. Jihyo’s stern facade instantly melts when she sees the two of you.

“Dai-San Momo Unnie.” Jihyo greets you and Momo with a smile. Momo and you hug Jihyo before she asks if you guys are looking to use this sparring room. Momo nods.

“Wow just like old times. I can’t believe it’s been 4 years since graduation.” Jihyo says. Momo and you have since reminded me of the slow creep of time never stops.

“Well I’m done with this class do the two of you have any advice for them?” You scratch your facial hair at the wide mix of students before saying “Learn Kaiju anatomy. It will increase your combat effectiveness with less expenditures of energy and resources. One well-timed hit at a Kaiju’s weak point will do more than 100 rounds of Arakami bullets.” Momo laughs at your correct statement.

“Stay well rested. Kaiju attacks can happen at any time and even though Hyperman has helped us with a lot of battles we can’t rely on him for every major battle.” Momo says Jihyo agrees with that more than your advice which stings a little since the two of you used to be so close. If you were the dad friend she was for sure the mom friend. but you didn’t hold it against her. As the class leaves Jihyo turns to the two of you and says, “Try not to tear the roof off this time.” You assure Jihyo that you’ll keep Momo in check

“Hey, it’s not my fault the new Kaiju weapon was so powerful,” Momo said defensively.

After that, it was just the two of you again. You get into a fighting stance. Momo looks at you surprised.

“That’s Hyperman’s fighting stance.” she says You shrug and Momo stops, “No you just can’t shrug that off,” Momo says. You worried your cover had been blown.

“Take this seriously. Hyperman’s style is sloppy and too showoffy.” Momo said. You stood there taken aback for a moment, not sure what was more surprising.

“Hey, he’s not lost a fight so he must be doing something right.” You challenge

Momo rolls her eyes again before saying “Fine have fun getting beat up.”

“You can try.” You say.

Her first attack is predictable. She opens with one of her famous kicks. You roll out of the way and trip her still-planted leg. She looks at you wide-eyed. You look at her and raise your hands. Momo's twin kicks to recover her footing. You back up and she does three flips to lead into a chop. You dodge and grab her arm before slamming her (gently) into the mat. You back up and retreat to your ready stance.

Momo was not lying when she was rejuvenated she came at you for 3 more hours of sparring. It went about the same as the beginning Momo would do an offensive move you’d block or dodge then gently reset to neutral. This frustrated Momo to no end making her sloppier and wilder as the match went on. Eventually, she grew tired of your guarded and defensive style. So she decided to adopt a mirror stance to yours instead of engaging she planted her two feet down. You smiled as she tried to taunt you into charging

“Come on make a move. You scared. See anyone can just durdle and play defensive.” She yelled. You smile and switch stances. Momo looks on in concern. You approach slowly. You make one strike which she guards but due to the sheer force, she still stumbles back. You give her time to recover. She makes a measured and calm strike. you block and make an open palm strike at her chest. She falls back. You wait for her to get up and change stances again. You begin to circle her slowly. She strikes at you with another powerful kick and you turn and return with a kick of your own, she received the hit and lands on her butt. She finally taps before you help her up. You turn back to see you have gained a crowd watching the two of you spar.

“Alright shows over,” Momo says as the two of you walk out.

The two of you arrive back at your apartment where you begin cooking again. Momo still having restless energy begins feeling you up while you cook.

“Ugh, I hate how good of a house husband you are,” she says

You turn to her confused

“It's an expression, don't they have those in America?” you hesitate as you nod as being “American” was your cover for the time being.

“It means you are good at doing stuff around the house. Considering how many times I haven't had to go hungry because of you looking out for me.

“So what's your point?”

“Oh come on. I'm not doing it for you. I have been practically throwing myself at you the last few months.”

“Oh well excuse me for remembering when you said. I like you but not like you as a friend.” You tease Momo. Momo smirks

“Can't a girl change her mind?” she cooks. You roll your eyes at her. Which causes her to smile before bringing you into a heavy kiss. What caused you to snap out of it was the burning sensation from the stove your hand was on.

“Ahhh. That hurts.” You grimace.

Mono smiles before saying, “I just wanted to give you a taste of what's to come.” to further her point she seductively puts her finger into the pan you are using where the food is and erotically takes a swipe before putting said finger in her mouth.

“Delicious as always.” Mom exaggerated before sashaying away. As her body moves you are mesmerized by the way her ass looks in her tight battle outfit. You feel the blood rush to your other head as try not to think about all of the less-than-virtuous things you'd do to her. You finish cooking without any disasters and set the table and food for Momo and you. “Momoring food is ready,” you say curious as to what she's doing.

Momo walks out of her room in her bra and underwear which isn't an uncommon occurrence. What she usually wears is a sports bra and boy shorts, but today she opted for a bold and brazen red and black lace lingerie set. You blink three times before your self-control shatters. You get up and kiss Momo with passion and emotional build-up you've had since you met her 4 years ago. When you break it her pupils have dilated so intensely there is hardly any brown left.

“Whoa someone is pent up.” Mom teases as she begins to caress your clothed erection.

“Shut up,” you say taking off your pants. Momo smiles. She even giggled when you picked her up, but that all changed when you put her in a mating press. She groans as do you as you penetrate her for the first time

“Ahh ugh.” she moans luridly

You begin to thrust and Momo yells “Oh god yes. This cock is filling my tight pussy so well.”

“Oh you like it?” you tease

Momo moans as you fill her, “God I love it. Why have you been hiding this cock from me for so long?” as you thrust her womanhood clenches your manhood with the clinginess of an anxious lover.

“You're so tight Momoring, why are you worried I'm going leave you.”

Mom turns to her face to you. Those gorgeous brown eyes glare fiery and passionate.

“I guarantee I gotcha.” she purrs before initiating a torrid kiss. She regains dominance over you by forcing her tongue down your mouth when you break the kiss she smiles caressing your face. “Cum for me honey.” she teases causing you to erupt violently within her walls. You scream from the intensity of the orgasm. When you regain your senses you set Momo down and you use the countertop to steady you. Mom stares you down as she dips a finger into her pussy where your cum is trailing out of her. She smiles and traces a line of semen with her finger before bringing it up to lick it.

“Hm, you taste good as well,” Momo says with a voice made husky by the overwhelming erotic pleasure she felt. You give her the time-out gesture which makes her laugh. She sits down to eat the food you made with a smug grin.

“Don't tell me you're all tuckered out,” Momo says with a mischievous tone.

“Listen when you have 4 years of emotional catharsis built up and then released by your unrequited lover then you can talk.” you fire back. Which causes Momo to take a step back,

“Wait we've known each other 4 years?” she says confused

“Yeah I know I've loved you since I first laid eyes on you, but how could I not? You came into my life like a battle angel, full combat gear the mecha suit wings. It was stunning.”

Mom smirks then smiles you sit down and begin eating with her.

“So you have liked me all this time?” she asks again. You nod before she gets up walks over to you and starts stroking you to hardness. When you're aching again she plants herself back on you. You groan still sensitive from the last time.

“Tell me what you love about me!” she demanded as she began to ride you with a tortuously glacial pace.

“I love your tenacity and enthusiasm for your craft. You work so hard and it just fills me with pride and admiration for you,” you respond. Momo speeds up

“More.” she moans

“You also aren't consumed by the job you still maintain your identity in all of this and it makes me ahh,” you say as you trail off her pussy is dripping wet but she is still oppressively tight if not tighter with each praise from your mouth.

“Come on I’m almost there.” she groans as she expertly grinds over your cock.

“You're such a good girl, you are so kind and helpful to all of those around you,” you say also nearing another climax as she continues to bounce on top of you. You do notice an intense string of tightness from Momo when you call her a good girl so you go all in

“Oh, you like being my good girl? (her pussy vice grips you driving you feral) well, I like you being my good girl too. (you squeeze her ass) My good girl has the nicest ass. My good girl has the prettiest brown eyes and the tightest pussy.” that last line sent her over the cliff and she exploded all over you.

“Oh god. Oh god, I'm cumming” she moaned as she came. You feel her squirt all over you and her pussy attempt to milk you for all its worth. As her orgasm raged on she continued riding you before saying “Come on baby cum for me I need it.” her words set off a cascading effect causing your second orgasm and pushing her into another one of hers. As the two of you cum for what feels like hours (it's actually like 7 minutes.) the two of you make out and paw at the other desperate to keep the high going.

When the two of your bodies finally calm down Momo asks, “Do you have any of your kaiju clean-up supplies? Because we made quite a mess.” you roll your eyes, and she gives a hearty laugh.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #hirai momo #twice momo #twice smut #momo smut

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janeyseymour · 23 days

Note

Ooh prompts! Okay okay okay

How about Melissa finds a roommate who is not Jacob. And she's cute and nice but Melissa just keeps to herself because she's Melissa. Until one day, Mel is trying to read but can't focus for whatever reason (bad day, just in a mood, whatever) so her roomie reads out loud to her

And They Were Roommates

i gotchu.

WC: ~2.8k

Moving is always stressful. But moving in with a gorgeous, fiery haired woman who could kick your ass in an instant and you’re pretty sure could be part of the mob? You quite literally think that you’re in over your head.

But her ad seemed good enough, her career of being a teacher wasn’t a front, and as of right now this is your only option unless you want your rent to be out of your budget or your commute to be double what it is now. So, you spend the weekend moving your things into Melissa Schemmenti’s townhouse.

She doesn’t offer to help you- you just flash your smile at her as she hands you the key that she had made for you before she’s off. Honestly, your new roommate and landlord really isn’t even around for most of the weekend. The woman stays out for most of the weekend, claiming that she has errands to run or friends to hang out with. That’s fine by you because at least then you know you won’t be in her way, and she won’t be there to glare at you while you do your best to unpack everything.

The redhead only comes in at night once you’ve given up on unpacking for the day and you’re preparing to head to bed, just filling up your water bottle before you head to your room for the night.

“Hey,” you smile at her softly.

The woman, who was still trying to relook the door, jumps at your voice. She turns sharply, fist curled into a ball and ready to fight. Once she realizes that it’s just you, she lowers her hand and uncurls it. Then she catches the way you look…

You’re simply dressed in your night shorts and a tee-shirt, hair thrown up carelessly with your blue light glasses sitting on your face, and you have no makeup on. It’s a drastic change from the way that you came in, even just to move all of your stuff. You had come in clad in a sweet, floral jumpsuit with your hair beautifully framing your face, not one hair out of place, and just the lightest amount of makeup on to highlight all of your best features. Both ways, you took her breath away, not that she would ever admit that.

“Hello?” you say again, confused as to why she’s staring at you.

She blinks a few times. “Sorry, sorry. You startled me. I didn’t think you would still be up.”

“I won’t be for long,” you chuckle quietly and raise your water bottle. “Just came down to fill up for the night. Goodnight, Melissa. I hope you had a good night.”

“Y- yeah,” the redhead says, although it’s clear to you that she still isn’t really all there. Maybe she just had a bit too much to drink, you think to yourself (she was stone cold sober). “Have a good night, Y/N.”

You brush past her in order to make your way up the steps, and the teacher can’t help but watch you as you go. You were… wow. Again, she blinks a few times, wondering why you’re making her practically short circuit. She knew you were cute when the two of you first met, but there’s something about seeing you in your natural state that has her entranced.

The next day, you wake up and continue to unpack. She hears you shuffling around up in your room while she’s getting ready to head out herself.

The knock on your new bedroom door startles you.

“Come in!” you call once you’ve collected yourself. The door swings open gently to reveal your new roommate looking absolutely stunning.

“Hey. Just letting you know that I won’t be around much today. Heading to church and then I have a bunch of errands that I have to run,” Melissa tells you as she avoids eye contact- she doesn’t want to get caught staring at you again like she did last night.

You nod and smile at her. “Have a nice day, Melissa.”

“You too,” is all she gets out before closing your door again.

By some grace of God, you’re able to finish unpacking your things by mid-afternoon. Exhausted, but knowing that you still have to go grocery shopping and pick up a few little odds and ends, so you drag yourself out to the store.

While you’re perusing the aisles, you just so happen to run into your roommate. Quite literally- actually. She accidentally hits you with her shopping cart in the hip. You squeal out in surprise rather than pain, and when you look up to see who did it you’re met with the softest green eyes you’ve seen out of the woman.

“Y/N!” she says quickly. “I’m so sorry, hun.”

You laugh with a wave of the hand. “All good, Melissa. All good. Just startled me.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you promise her, extending a hand out and touching her forearm gently. You would be lying if you said neither of you felt the little jolt of electricity between the two of you at the contact.

Her eyes immediately go down to avoid your own. “Alright, well… I’ll see you later.” And she’s off.

As you continue to shop down the aisles you can’t help but wonder why your roommate is acting the way she is. In her emails, and even the first time you met her to interview for her extra room, Melissa Schemmenti gave off that she was a tough woman- someone who didn’t put up with any sort of shit. But now that you’ve seen her over the past few days, you’ve only caught her acting like a deer in the headlights or like a flustered schoolgirl.

Melissa, as she continues to waltz up and down the aisles at the Giant, she too wonders why you have her acting like an absolute idiot anytime she sees you. You’re cute and you’re sweet, but so are a lot of other women that she’s encountered. Deciding that she can’t get wrapped up and hypnotized by you and your sweet, soft eyes and voice, she vows to herself that she’ll just keep to herself while you live with her. She can surely do that for the next year that your lease is, right?

And she does- she does a nice job at keeping her distance, really only running into you in the morning and occasionally at night when you’re filling up your water bottle and heading to bed.

You won’t deny that this roommate situation is odd, but you don’t press. You technically live here, yes, but you feel like a guest. Melissa’s name is on the lease, and you pay her the rent directly.

But even then, when the two of you don’t directly interact a lot, you both learn a lot about each other.

You’ve learned that Melissa always does her grocery shopping on Saturdays at 2, she goes to church every Sunday, she loves her students more than you thought was possible. She prefers coffee in the morning and tea in the evening, occasionally with a glass of wine. You’ve noticed that she is very particular about how food is made, and she always cleans up her materials as she cooks- and that she only ever cooks what could feed a family of twelve. Despite that, she never asks if you want any leftovers, and you don’t press for them even though the smell is near heavenly. The redhead likes to curl up on the couch after a particularly hard day with a good book, a glass of (always red) wine, and what seems to be her emotional support Eagles sweatshirt- her cat-eyed glasses either on her face or on the tip of her nose are a staple. She’s usually in bed by 10 or 11, and she’s never a morning person.

Melissa, on the other hand, has learned that you’re just as enchanting as she thought you to be. You never fail to give her a smile and a soft hello as you make your way in or out, despite the fact that you may be exhausted or frustrated. She’s learned that you aren’t particular about where your food comes, but that you are particular in how it sits in the fridge- she never touches your things. The woman has come to learn that you have a ukulele and a guitar up in your bedroom, and she can occasionally hear you strumming it softly. She’s come to find that your singing voice is just as soft and as soothing as your speaking voice, a bit of a folky twang to it, and it often takes the place of a calming lullaby for her. She’s found that you are a bit of a writer, having found little scribbles of lyrics or chord progressions on sticky notes that you throw on the fridge in the morning to retrieve later once you’ve taken on the day and are ready to relax. It’s charming, and it gives her insight as to who you really are.

Although the two of you live very separate lives living in this one space, you’ve both found yourselves falling for each other. Both of you can only hope that you are falling in love with the real person and not some image that you’ve made up in your mind.

It’s about two months into living with the redhead that when you come home she isn’t stationed in her kitchen and cooking a meal for twelve. Instead, she’s sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. Her book is open in her lap, and yet her eyes aren’t trained on it.

“Hey,” you smile warmly at the woman that you live with.

She just grunts in your direction.

You just give her a knowing look as you head into the kitchen to start your own meal. “You aren’t cooking yourself dinner?” you call gently. Your voice floats through the house and she hears you.

“Shit day,” she sighs. “Don’t feel like cooking.”

“Do you want me to cook something?”

“I was just gonna order a cheesesteak,” she says shortly.

You head back into the living room and bite the bullet. It’s been two months of you living here, and to be quite frank, you’re not very happy with the fact that all of your conversations with your roommate are as short as they are. You genuinely want to talk with Melissa and make some sort of connection, although now that you’re standing here you aren’t sure if today was the best day to pick.

“That sounds nice,” you say as you rock back and forth on your feet. “I can pick them up if you want so you can relax?”

That gets her to look at you. “What?”

“I said a cheesesteak sounds nice,” you repeat. “And I can pick them up so you can relax. Just tell me your order and where you want them from.”

“I- wow.” She looks you up and down before rattling off her order and where she wants it from.

“That’s where I like to get mine,” you grin. “Perfect. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

You place the order, and when you head out for the order, she’s still sitting there looking absolutely lost with her book in her lap. “Try to relax,” you tell her gently before closing the door behind you.

When you return, she’s still sitting there, although now she’s at least trying to read her book. You set her order down in front of her and take out your own. Then you head into the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of wine, and pour your roommate some as well.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask as you settle on the couch next to her, but still keeping a fair distance between the two of you.

She nods with a shy smile, although she still doesn’t look to you. You end up pulling a novel out of your purse and open it.

You read a few pages as you eat your dinner and sip your wine before you notice that Melissa is still just staring ahead- actually, she’s kind of watching you.

“You okay?” you furrow a brow. “Did I mess your order up? I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “No. Not at all. I just… You’re stunning.”

You blush and tuck a hair behind your ear. “No I’m not.”

“You are though,” she says softly. “You… come bringing dinner, you know exactly what kind of wine I was in the mood for, and then you just sit there and read as if you’ve not just made my day so much better.”

“I just figured you could use the pick-me-up,” you shrug. “You look like you had a tough day.”

“I did,” she sighs. “Those kids today really gave me a run for my money, and all I wanted to do was come home and read my book, but I can’t find it in myself to focus.”

“What’re you reading?” you ask her.

“The Girl On The Train,” she tells you as she shows you the cover.

You smile a bright smile. “That’s one of my favorites. I’d be happy to read it with you.”

“Really?” she asks quietly.

You outstretch your hand to take the book. She hands it to you with a raised brow, and her jaw drops just slightly as your soft voice starts to read aloud. She’s able to fully relax as she eats her cheesesteak, listening to your warm and light voice as it reads about some of the darkest tragedies in life.

When she’s finished eating, she holds up a silent hand, asking you to pause your reading. She cleans both of your areas up before she’s plucking both of your glasses up and taking them to the kitchen. She returns a few minutes later with full glasses and sits significantly closer to you.

“Can you keep reading?” She asks you gently once she’s pulled a blanket over the two of you.

You just smile as you nod. You begin to read aloud again. It’s a nice little bubble that the two of you are in, and you can’t help but let your eyes go soft as you look at her.

It’s a bit before her head falls to your shoulder, and you can’t help the small little chuckle that bubbles up out of you. The redhead is asleep, so you close her book a few pages before where you had paused and relax back against the couch cushions. The television is playing music softly, so you stretch just slightly to pick up your own novel and crack it open.

You stay there in your place for about forty minutes before your roommate wakes with a small jolt.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying to keep your tone soft and warm. You crane your neck just slightly to look at her, and her cheeks are just about as red as her hair.

“Sorry,” Melissa mumbles as she lifts her head from your shoulder.

You chuckle and shrug. “I didn’t mind. It was nice, actually spending time with my rooommate- even if she was asleep for about forty minutes.”

The teacher smiles softly. “It was really nice. Thank you for reading to me so I could enjoy the story.”

“Of course,” you reply gently. “I love that book, and most of the books you have on the shelves, so I’m always happy to read with you.”

So, the two of you often find yourself curled up on the couch together after enjoying a meal together. Sometimes she cooks, sometimes you cook, and sometimes the two of you go out and grab food. But you almost always end up on that couch with her head on your shoulder as she falls asleep to your soft and soothing voice. Sometimes you’re reading to her, other times you’re sitting there strumming a stringed instrument or writing while she watches her reality television shows. It’s a nice little routine that the two of you have found yourselves in, and it’s been a hell of a lot nicer actually talking to your roommate and getting along as opposed to the coexisting that you had done for the first few months of living with her.

And then one night, it all changes. As you’re reading to her, you can feel her head fall to your shoulder. With a knowing smile, you turn your head to glance down at her, expecting her eyes to be closed. But they aren’t. Those sparkling emerald eyes are looking up at you with such a fondness, and almost in slow motion does she lean up to kiss you.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years

Text

The dutiful Wife

AU MASTERLIST

Part 1

Summary: You navigate your new life as married to the new boss who has an incredible breeding kink

Pairing: Mob!Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: DARK, misogynistic behaviour, mob bussiness, age gap (Lloyd’s late thirties, reader is mid-twenties), dub-con, unprotected rough sex, (don’t be silly wrap your willy), little fingering, degradation, mocking, cursing, pet names, breeding kink, marriage kink, slight cumplay and eating, might miss some warnings.

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.2 k

Notes: Here I am, not being able to do one shot no more AJAJAJA and I did really want to write more about this mannnn. Inspired by the amazing @lifeissomethingelse

“Are you pregnant yet?” “Did you drain my cock today?” “Let's both stick to what we are good at right, Angel?”.

You fixed the collar of your dressing shirt as you walked down the stairs, you missed the feeling of the suit against your skin. You got to the first floor of the manor, ready to ask your personal driver to bring your car around. You walked by the home office, knowing Lloyd was there but trying to pass by unnoticed

It didn’t work

“What do you think you’re doing?” you stopped in your tracks to look back at your “husband”, bag and cellphone in hand, stilettos in your feet and dressed in a tailored chanel suit

“It’s my first day back at work” you explain simply, walking back to him, entering the study. He was accompanied by Ari, August and Bucky, and they all seemed like they just entered an action movie with a bag of popcorn. Lloyd also looked entertained by you, like you were amusing

“You didn’t ask my permission, wife” he growled, his eyes shiny and his face serious for one second to the next. You snickered like he had said the most amusing thing in the world

“Why would I?” you asked then, raising an eyebrow as you saw his twitch in annoyance

“You aren’t going back to work” he said firmly

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me to” You said defiantly. He walked towards you, but you stood your ground. “I am the youngest female CEO in the industry and I will go back to my office, I will go back to work” you said firmly. You didn’t back down when he walked towards you until you felt his warm breath in your face. With what you’d only describe as a “shit eating grin” he leaned in until his mustache tickles your ear

“The only work you’re gonna be doing is working your hips up and down my fat cock” he whispered in your ear making you feel goosebumps

“You are disgusting,” you said back, feeling flustered and embarrassed. Taking steps back to get away from him

“You are my wife now, and you’ll do as I say” he demanded, “Or you want me to fuck you in front of my men again?” he asked, and that’s when you saw red

You grabbed the first thing you can get your hands on, a crystal base and you threw it against the wall right besides Lloyd’s head

“That was a half a million dollar base” he growled

“That’s what I made in two months, it means nothing to me” you mumbled, and then you walked away from him. He didn’t chase you but somewhat that made you even more nervous. You somehow knew you were going to pay for this.

It was a long drive to the company from your home that was in the outskirts of the city, and while you drove there, you couldn't even imagine what Lloyd was doing

As soon as you walked into one of the biggest buildings in the city, you were received with the news that the board itself had reunited, and was summoning you. Could it be?

You took the elevator to the very last floor, to the main conference room, and there they were, the board of the company. All old men.

After unpleasant greeting, you stood in front of all of them like you were on trial, and you were

“We have decided to fire you as a CEO of Marvel Co.” said Ross

“On what grounds?” you asked then, your knee shaking under you.

“We fear that you don’t have the best interest of the company at heart, and the majority of the shareholders had decided towards your termination” the mayor shareholder had been your father, which means….

“I'm also a mayor shareholder” you fighted

“This was a unanimous decision” they sentenced

You walked into your office to find Lloyd seated on your desk

“What are you doing here?” you whined, cleaning the tears that threatened to fall

“I told you” he said dangerously, standing, looking straight at you, “You weren’t going to work anymore”

“So you used your shares to have me fired?” you asked, a single tear finally fell down your cheek, he pouted at you, mockingly

“Don’t cry wifey” he said condescently, “I told you you have enough work at home”

“Fuck you” you snapped, walking towards him and your desk, to grab your things. Today had been the most humiliating day you’d ever had in your life, you tried to concentrate on grabbing your pencils and knick knacks, until you felt him at your back, grabbing your hips. You drop everything when he turned you around to face him, you couldn’t even look him in the eye

“You'll do as I say” he demanded, searching for your gaze but you avoided him. And you felt trapped, not only physically but if you backed down now, he was going to end up controlling every aspect of your life, and you didn’t want that to happen, but also, you didn’t quite know how to stop him

“What if I don’t want to?” you whispered

“It pretty much ends up like this” he said, pleased with the situation and himself, “what is it with you and desks, uh?”

“Lloyd wait” you pleaded but he didn’t hear you as he grabbed your ass and made you sit on the edge of the desk, he spread your thighs opening you up for him. The skirt of your suit hunching up around your waist

“No more waiting” he rasped against your ear as he opened up his fly. He growled when he felt your panties, “What the fuck did I said?” he demanded, looking at you with a look that made you squirm

“No underwear” you muttered, but you couldn’t do it, it was improper, what if somebody saw? you squealed when he ripped your panties in one harsh movement, burning the insides of your thighs

“Bad wife” he was so indignant he almost spat in your mouth, grabbing your jaw making you look into his eyes while he split you open with his fat cock. You whimpered because you weren’t quite prepared, but the pleasure outran the pain making you moan and squirm, unconsciously trying to get out of his hold, but he only grabbed your hip and push you back towards him, impaling you further, making you whimper

“I told you” he threatened, “I’m going to keep you bred all the fucking time” he started pounding into you roghly but slowly, made you feel every inch of his cock. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you moaned loudly. You thanked the heavens that the walls of your office were soundproof. “You have enough work at home” he chuckled against your ear

“I don’t want that” you managed to moan, “please”

“Your only work now is to please me, and what please me is to ruin you” he grabbed you by the neck and pushed you down until you were totally against your glass desk, and he over you, looking down at you and drilling into you roughly, moving the desk and everything on it. Pounding into you roughly your skin slapping against his. You felt your orgasm quickly building

“We have to make this quick” he mocked, “Somebody could walk in any second now” you squealed in surprise when you felt his finger finding your clit and rubbing it furiously. YOu whimpered and twisted under him, feeling so overwhelmed by the amazing pleasure, feeling a tension building in your lower belly, and then, you just let go…

You squirted, you had never done that before and you were terrified, open your eyes to look at Lloyd, who, contrary to your believe, was looking like he won the lottery

“Who knew you had this in you wifey” he mocked, he kept pounding into you until he cum, staying deep inside you, cumming deep in your belly.

You had to walk out of your office under the gaze of everyone in there, they all clearly knew what was happening there and you couldn’t help but look down as Lloyd pushed you down the hall with a sad box of your office belongings and his cum dripping down your thighs.

You get into the black SUV alongside Lloyd, you tried to avoid at all costs, curlining yourself up against the door on the other side

“Are you mad wifey?” he mocked, you only whimpered, wanting to cry, “You’ll see that you’ll find your new job more pleasant and fulfilling”

“Ok” you just mumbled, not wanting to engage with him leaning into the glass of the car’s door. You felt watched but not only by Lloyd, you looked forward and you saw the stormy look of Ari looking back at you through the rearview mirror. So you cleaned the tears as they left your eyes and tried to look away, feeling embarrassed and watched.

He threw you gently over the bed, you bounced on the mattress, your eyes not leaving his looming form.

“I see that you are having trouble adjusting to your new reality,” he said, taking off his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest and arms. You looked at him and couldn’t hide the hunger in your eyes. It would be lying if you say you didn’t desired him

“I want to go to work” your protested, at this point you thought you did it only to provoke him further

“You want to work? I’ll give you work, I’m going to give you my baby to keep you busy” He grabbed your skirt and pull it off of you, he already kidnapped your panties so suddenly you were naked for the waist down, and then he ripped your silk dressing shirt off of you, and then your bra, leaving you naked under him

“I’m going to stuff you silly” he threatened, “until the only thing in your brain is me and my cum” you moaned spreading your legs for him under his wide smile

“Lloyd” you called, and that was enough for him to dive into you, he didn't even take his pants off but he did open his fly fast and desperate to have you, to possess you. You brought him towards you kissing him roughly, the anger and hate you felt towards him morphing into lust and desire, and nothing was better than a good hate fuck.

He entered his digits in your weeping pussy, testing how wet you were and he smiled wickedly at you

“Do you get turn on by your baby daddy degrading you? uh?” you nodded, grinding your hips on his hand, begging for more friction, “You dumb cumslut” his filthy wods made you even more needy and wet

“Yes” you begged, “Only for you daddy” you moaned wantonly, grinding even harder, he fingered you roughly, while his thumb caressed your clit making you shriek in pleasure. “Please”

“Please what?” he mocked

“Please daddy give me your babies” you whined. Almost reaching your climax, he stopped, making you whimper

“You are cumming around my cock” he said, pleased, and waiting no longer he retrieved his fingers to be quickly replaced by his thick cock. He split you open in one long thrust and you wondered if you were ever going to get accustomed to his thick shaft, it was always a stretch, “You are going to drain me?”

“Yes” you moaned when the tip of him reached your cervix. Your eyes turned to the back of your head when he retreaded and thrusted into you again, making you whimper

“I’m going to fuck my cum deep into your belly”

“Do it” you invited him, grabbing him by the back of his neck and drawing him back to kiss him. His mustache tickled you and you moaned when you remembered how good it felt when he rubbed you raw with it while he ate your pussy.

He fucked into you so roughly the bed moved back and forth, the bedframe hitting the wall so hard you thought he wa going to break, and maybe it did, but you wouldn’t know becaue you were so lost in the pelsure of havin hit your g spot over and over again you lost your mind.

“My pretty little cumdump” he growled against your mouth, “are you going to make me a daddy?”

“Yes!”

“You sure?”

“Yes please Lloyd” your legs wrapped around his waist trapping him against you

“Fuck!” he screamed, just as you reached your climax he did his, his seed painting your inner walls and warming your womb. He stood still looking down at you. With little lighting his looming figure was scary and intimidating, you felt small trapped under him and between his arms, he was still inside you, and it made you whimper. After a short minutes he retrieved himself from you, the empty and stickiness he left behind mde you whine

“Silly little wife, look at this mess” he cooed, you tried to shrink under his heated gaze, looking at his cum dripping down your weeping hole. “You have to keep it inside you dumb whore” you whined in potest as he pushed back inside you all his seed with his fingers and afterwards he close your legs tightly as a way to keep it inside you

“It’s too much” you protested, he only smiled wickedly as he could even see a swell in your lower belly, he leaned in, stuffing his dirty fingers in your mouth, you moaned as you sucked on his fingers leaving them clean. He then slapped your fuck out face.

“Look at you” he mocked, pleased with himself, “your brain melted by all that cum”

“Lloyd” you called, feeling the need for an aftercare, wanted to be held by him, but he only dressed himself, fixing his pants and putting his shirt back on

“I don't want you wearing more suits around the house” he said, mocking, “only skirts and dresses, no underwear” he grabbed you by the jaw and made you look at him, “Is that clear?”

“Yes husband” you muttered, and he was pleased, releasing you

“I have work to do” he threw at you, “I’ll be back and I expect dinner at 8 and set the table for 6” and just like that he left you alone.

With a lonely whimper you stood up, having trouble walking towards the bathroom but you did. You cleaned yourself up taking a long shower

You looked down at the set table looking for any imperfections. In the manor you had many maids and cooks who did it all for you, but still you made sure everything was perfect.

Just in time Lloyd entered the dining room, followed by Andy, August, Nick and Steve Rogers

He grabbed you softly by the neck and kissed you as a greeting.

“Hello wife, everything looks great” he purred against your lips

“Thank you” you whispered, smiling softly. You looked at your guests and greeted them as well, just Andy came close to you to give you a short kiss on your cheek

“Marriage looks good on you” he winked and then turned to take his place on the table. Lloyd of course sat at the head, and you on his right side, and the rest sat all around you.

They started talking about businesses and shipping, you knew that meant drugs and other darker things so you tried not to pay attention, that was until he started talking about overseas cargo

“I don’t know how he did it” Lloyd admitted, and you chuckled because you did knew how your father did it before him, it was a simple but infalible shipping technique. But they all kept quiet and you felt their gaze on you, you looked up at Lloyd scared, and he seemed so angry it made you shiver

“I know how he did it” you explained, and he only raise an eyebrow, “He hid the cargo on barrels of car oil” you whispered, “But now that the DEA knows his hideouts, I would just send it hidden in dust chemicals…” but gasped in surprise when Lloyd grabbed you by the neck

“You wanna work now sweetheart?” he squeezed lightly, clearly upset that you undermined him in front of his men, “Wanna warm my cock for our friends to see?” he asked then, but you shook your head rapidly, looking down at the table

“No husband, m’sorry” you mumbled, and he made a pleased sound looking at the others like he showed them a trick his pet just executed perfectly.

“Silly little wife, are you even pregnant yet?” he asked then, kept teasing you, “She drained my cock twice today already” he told the rest, “Let's both stick to what we are good at, right Angel?”

“Yes, sorry” you muttered, and he released you. You felt the heated gaze of the rest of the men on the table, but chose to ignore it. You knew he was going to be more angry if you just walked out in the middle of dinner, so you just lowered your gaze and played with your food in silence, playing deaf to his snickers and filthy comments on you.

After finishing dessert, Lloyd invited them to the library, where it was custom to drink whiskey and smoke cigars, and you weren’t invited. They all smiled wickedly at you and left you, Lloyd didn’t move, he leaned into you tickling his mustache on your cheek

“Com’ere” he purred. You looked at him scared of him, sitting back at his chair, and patting his thighs, he wanted you to sit on your lap. But before you could, he opened his fly and took out his hard cock, pumping himself lazyly, waiting for you

“Your friends are waiting” you whispered, but he only smiled

“Now, wifey” In a second he made you sat on his lap, with your skirt hunched around your waist and pleased discovering you weren’t wearing any underwear just like he told you to

“Lloyd” you cried, not being able to see him, giving your back to him made it even more enticing as you felt the tip of his fat cock searching your entrance, rubbing itself between your folds.

He placed it on your entrance and then grabbed your hips, making you impale yourself on him, whimpering as you did. You couldn’t hide your moan, and frankly, you didn’t care who might hear it

“I know this turns you on” he growled in your ear, enticing you to move your hips faster, “admit it turns you on to be my housewife” he pushed his hips forwards impaling you, and grabbing your hips making you stay like that, with him deep inside you. You just moaned, wanting to keep riding him. “Say it”

“I like it” you admitted, with all the sorrow of your independent heart, “I do like it” you leaned back until your back was all against his chest and your head against his shoulder you drop a lazy kiss on his cheek due to the angle and he only chuckled

“That’s my wifey” he said, pleased, moving your hips again on top of him. You placed your feet on the ground to have leverage and he moved his hand to place it in your lower belly. He pushed gently, feeling himself deep inside your belly

“Do you feel that?” he asked against your ear. You just managed to moan as you searched for your climax, fucking yourself in him, riding him roughly. Wet sounds filled the room as you grew desperte feeling the climax built inside you

“I’m going to fuck you dumb into my perfect little wife and mommy”

Taglist!

@phildunphyisadilff @lifeissomethingelse @black-repunzel99 @momobaby227 @siriusjohnpotter

#misguideddutiful #misguidedoneshot #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #mob!lloyd hansen #fanfic #mob!au #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #cevans #cevansedit #chris evans character x reader #chris evans characters

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safehouse-if · 1 year

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Safe house

There's a rumour about the mob family, ruling over a bustling port city. A five generation enterprise with loyal followers, deep pockets and enough hands and brainpower to rule the city from behind the veil of legality.

Legality that is build on bribes, threats and politics going back decades.

The next generation of Desoto family was getting ready to step into power, to rule as their right was, when there was a betrayal. A right hand of the oldest child of Desoto head, known only as Wraith on the streets, spilled their guts out to the law.

Became a little song bird, spilling secrets.

Now the old man Desoto is sitting behind bars, waiting trial and the family is for the first time having to face consequences of their actions. But why were they betrayed?

On the other side of the country, in a middle sized town, in a new suburb called Avalon Acres a new couple moves in.

It’s not a surprise. Avalon Acres is everything a person could want. Outdoor activities, enough life to sustain multiple local businesses and actually four different seasons to enjoy. The modern white architectured houses built into the hills and woods certainly attract all manner of life.

Play as Wraith, an ex mobster turned informant hiding for their life

Choose your own gender/pronouns

Customise your appearance

Make a living in a quiet suburb or chafe against the boredom

Reflect on your life and the choices that made you jump on the side of the law

Learn a hobby

Find love? Or maybe just share a bed with someone

Safe House is intended for 18+ audience as it follows an ex-mob enforcer’s life in protective custody and as such deals with trauma, ptsd, violence and sex. However violence will not be a prominent part of the story, nor told in great detail. This age limit is rather set for the writer’s comfort.

Ariana “Ari” / Arnaldo “Arno” Holloway

Tall and athletic, they are the agent who brought you in and are now your fake partner as well as your handler while you wait for the trial. Calm and collected most of the time with penchant for comfortable clothes and intellectual challenges.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, fake marriage

Roberta “Bob” Vernell

A nice young woman living next door, who loves all things geeky and is always smiling at you. If you don’t mind that she rarely goes out of her house and keeps suspiciously close eye on the neighborhood. As if she was the one hiding from the mob and not you.

tropes: nice girl from next door, protect at all cost

Eli Short

This guy keeps running by your house with his dog and inviting you for a barbie. Whatever that is. Apparently lives a couple doors down with his mother and works at the local fine dining restaurant. Keeps trying to feed you and get you to pet his dog.

tropes: nice boy from next door, himbo

Soline/Severin Desoto

Did you grow up together as friends or were you always just their puppet? The one who pulled Wraith’s strings for all that time. Sleek and preppy appearance hides a temper and penchant for the adrenaline rush behind good manners and old money. You will never go back. Right?

Trope: red flag relationship, pining

Links:

Demo TBA Home

Ariana/Arnaldo

Roberta

Eli

Soline/Severin

Want to be part of the process? If interested I’d welcome help in writing/creating/editing/coding if this idea seems interesting to you.

#safe house if #sh_if #interactive fiction #interactive story #wip game #twine if #twine story #if wip

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604to647 · 2 months

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Safest with You (Ch. 12 - The Workout)

7.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din “work out” at Mando’s gym and you end up getting sick.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), reader ogles Din like a piece🥩, smut, unprotected PiV sex, semi-public sex (car), new-ish established relationship, dirty talk, light degradation, light daddy kink, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, bunny, etc.), description of flu symptoms (it's gross y'all), reader is described as shorter than Din and he strokes her hair while she's sick.

A/N: Oo! This is a long one; it's just because The Workout and The Cold used to be two chapters and I ended up shmushing them together. There was an ask about Din taking care of reader while she's vulnerable; I hope this chapter fulfills that ask! 🥰 Thank you as always for reading!

Series Masterlist

“You know, you can come work out at Mando’s, if you want.”

“Really? That won’t be weird? Like, I’m moving in on your space?”

“I like you in my space.”

Din says it like a simple statement of fact, not even looking up from the cutting board where he’s slicing the steak he grilled for dinner. You’re not big on working out, but once in a while you just like to go for a run or a row and zone out to some TV; it’s not a regular thing so you don’t have a membership anywhere, and your building has a gym on the third floor that you can use whenever the urge strikes you (not often). But this morning when you went downstairs, ready to put in the hour you needed to catch-up on your favourite trashy reality show, you had found a temporary closure notice on the gym entrance.

It's not a bad idea. The weather is getting a bit chillier so your walks with Al haven’t been as long as both of you would like; it might be nice to have another option to get a little bit of exercise, “It’s okay if I just use the cardio machines? I won’t use any of the weight lifting equipment or anything.”

“You can use whatever you like. I’ll even have Jimmy fetch you water and towels.”

“Noooooo,” you make a face and shake your head.

“Yessssss,” he mimics you, “You’re the boss’ girl, you should be treated special.”

“You treat me special enough, for you and Jimmy both, thanks,” you say, still scrunching up your nose, but you tell Din you’ll take him up on his kind offer.

---

The next weekend, you leave Al snoozing on the Din’s bed and head down to the gym with the intention of saying hi to Din while he works, but also to run off some of the stress from the work week. Like the gym in your building, there are enough empty machines so you have your pick, but unlike your gym, the patrons all seem to know one another and are treating their workouts like a social event. Din’s helping out with the training today; you give him a little wave when you walk by the ring so not to distract him, and pick a treadmill off to the side so you can still see him and also simultaneously do some innocent people watching while you run. Headphones on, your phone jacked in to the console so you can stream your show, you pick the program you want the machine to run and start your work out.

Your plan is almost immediately derailed. As the familiar title sequence of your show starts to play, your eyes drift up past the screen and lock onto Din’s figure in the ring. He’s sparring with Chris today; having already gone a few rounds while you were upstairs, both men are sweaty and breathing heavily, chests and shoulders heaving as they circle each other. Din has sweated through his t-shirt so that it’s now sticking against his body, making him look even more immense than usual, and you openly gawk at the strong lines of his back and arms visible through the darkened fabric. As if he’s somehow reading your mind, Din puts a pause on the bout in order to remove his wet shirt; it’s not an easy task given his gloves, but he manages it with some grace and the use of his teeth to pull and hold the collar. When he finally whips the shirt over his damp curls, you’re treated to the sight of his thick, hard chest, glistening and flexing as he stretches out his arms; you feel a heat pooling below your abdomen and a flush spread across your chest that has nothing to do with your lackluster exercise efforts.

Far from doing any people watching like you had planned, you’re now struggling to make sure that you yourself don’t become a spectacle by openly drooling while you watch a shirtless Din fight in the ring. Every one of his punches is quick and agile, arms extending perfectly to show off his control and precision; his muscles prominent and flexed, the veins on his forearms protruding as his gloved fists clench, ready for impact. He’s a mammoth force, a powerhouse, somehow both immovable and unstoppable, and he looks good enough to eat.

You haven’t watched single a minute of your show and it’s actually getting to the point where the voices coming through your headphones are an unwelcomed distraction from the actual show you’re engrossed in, so you take off your headphones and place them next to your water bottle. Big mistake. Now, you can very clearly hear Din’s groans and pants as he ducks and punches. It’s like the thirst trap video you’ve been watching all of a sudden turned up its pornographic soundtrack. Din’s low, throaty grunts as he exerts himself, coupled with the words of praise you hear him shout out in his deep, encouraging baritone, have your mind running wild.

When Chris lands a hard punch to Din’s shoulder and you hear him grunt out, “Fuck!”, you nearly trip over your own feet.

You’re pounding back your water, throat parched and sweating profusely, and you’re barely 20 minutes into the preselected program; you’re not even going to lie to yourself, the flush of your skin and your shortness of breath have absolutely nothing to do with this treadmill. You’re about to admit defeat and cut the run short, thinking you could definitely benefit from a cold shower, when you see Chris and Din touch gloves, seemingly done training for the moment. Din ducks under the ropes and starts taking off his gloves; as he walks past you, he throws a towel around his neck and you a quick wink. Where is he going? You watch as he heads to the front of the gym, disappearing around the partition wall that rests between the front door and the main gym.

Without even thinking, you stop your machine, grab your things, and try to quickly and discretely follow. You find Din outside, having put on a dry shirt, standing behind his truck with the trunk door opened above him as he rifles through the box full of equipment he keeps in the trunk. Wordlessly, you put your things down on the trunk bed next to the box, surprising Din at your sudden appearance, “Hey pretty bird, what are you doing here? It’s cold, you sh-“. Taking his hand, you lead him to step back before pressing the auto-close button on the trunk door; as it folds down; you open the door to the back seat of the truck, and gently push Din to get in, with you following directly.

Din chuckles as you situate yourself on his lap, straddling his thighs, looking at him with a hunger in your eyes, “Baby, what’s all th-?”. He’s cut short when you silence him by throwing your arms around his neck and attach your lips to his, hard and hurried. You’re embarrassingly pent up from the last 20 minutes of watching the hottest man you’ve ever known show off his power and skill on what was basically a stage you had a front row seat to, and now you need to feel the strength of those muscles on you, under you, fucking up into you.

“Want you,” you mumble against his lips, “…so turned on. Watching you.” You’re barely able to string together your thoughts, you’re so consumed with exploring the cavern of Din’s mouth with your tongue, but Din gets the idea. Feeling incredibly needy, you start lightly grinding down on Din’s lap, and he encourages you by placing his hands on your waist and helping guide your movements; even this light friction feels overwhelmingly good against your aching clit, and you throw you head back and cry out, unabashed and loud enough for anyone walking by Din’s car to hear.

“Fuck, daddy, need you. Please, please…” your mouth back to messy kissing Din’s as your hands thread through his damp hair, tugging at the curls at the base of his neck and earning you a deep growl from the back of his throat.

“Look at my desperate, pretty girl,” groans Din, eyes greedy as you take off your t-shirt, then your sports bra, letting your tits bounce in his face, “…can’t even go a whole work out without riding her daddy’s dick.”

Unable to wait another minute, you peel your wet shorts and panties off in one go, now completely naked, sweaty and panting on top of a still fully clothed Din. “Not my fault, daddy,” you pout as you press yourself down on Din’s clothed cock, making a wet mess of his gym shorts. “You looked so fucking good in that ring, then you were making all those grunting noises. Couldn’t think of anything else but you filling me with your cock. Ahh-,“ you gasp out loud as Din takes one of your nipples in his mouth, nibbling and rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth before sucking down and flicking it with his tongue. You whine and increase the intensity and tempo of your movements while he moves to do the same to your other nipple, hand palming and tweaking the now abandoned breast. Din’s free hand snakes its way down to your core only to find you slick with want, a sticky mess already coating your inner thighs and soaking through his shorts, “Messy, messy slut. You get this wet just from watching me spar? Good thing you followed me out here, can’t have you leaking all over the gym floor like this.” He brings up his fingers so you can both see how your wetness coats his fingers, even though he has yet to insert them into you. When he pulls them apart, you watch the fluid web that connects his fingers stretch, proof that your pussy is positively leaking; you whimper at the filthy sight and bring Din’s hand to your mouth, popping his fingers into your mouth so you can suck off your own arousal. Moaning at the taste of your own indecency, you grind down hard against Din’s groin, his hard-on straining painfully against his shorts.

“Fuck me,” you mumble, Din’s fingers still in your mouth.

“Let me make you come first, pretty bird,” Din pleads, always putting your pleasure first and wanting to lesson the sting of the first stretch of his cock within your tight walls.

“Can’t wait, daddy… please, I can take it, please.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” grits Din, as he pushes his shorts and boxers down; his leaking cock springing out and slapping against your stomach, coarse hair at the base tickling your clit and making you gasp in pleasure, “YES! Please, daddy, need to bounce for you.”

You’ve never taken him without having come first, and if you weren’t so far gone, answering only to your lust, you would probably be worried; but as you line yourself up with Din, the shudder you get just from swiping his swollen head through you folds and tapping it on your clit makes it impossible to care about anything other than having him inside you right now.

Slowly, slowly you sink down on Din’s length, taking him a little at a time. Din grips your waist tightly, eyes closed, forcing himself to breathe; you’re so incredibly tight this, warm cunt practically strangling him, he fights the urge to move and bury himself in you fully. The stretch of Din’s fat cock is almost too much, your soft walls molding so tightly to him you can feel every ridge and vein as you slowly spear yourself downwards. The pain doesn’t register so much as the overwhelming feeling of fullness, your body needing more time and space to accommodate Din’s thickness. When he finally bottoms out, you just sit and sigh, sated from just warming his throbbing cock in your tight heat.

Your lust driven frenzy quelled, you now rest serene in Din’s arms, drinking in his gentle kisses, soothing touches, and words of praise of how good you’re doing for him; Din worshipping you as you take his cock so perfectly, and you getting used to his size and relearning how to breathe. Finally, finally, you look up at Din’s face to see his eyes filled with adoration, and your breathing evens, allowing you to kiss him with renewed passion. Grinning against your lips, Din murmurs, “Thought you wanted to bounce, bunny?”

Pulling away slightly and grinning back, you nod and lift yourself up a little, then slowly push yourself down back down fully onto Din’s length again, eliciting a heady groan from you both. You repeat the action, again and again, each time increasing the amount of Din’s length you work in and out of your pussy, until you’re panting and bouncing up and down on the full length of Din’s dick, “Feel so good, daddy. So full.”

“So fucking pretty, bouncing on me like a whore, bunny,” groans Din, as he mouths at your tits. You love his new pet name for you, the endearment spurring you to bounce harder and chase the high that’s been building since you saw him land a thundering cross punch to Chris’ jaw in the ring.

“Love being your slutty bunny, daddy,” you cry, head thrown back in ecstasy, “wanna ride this cock until it’s all creamy. Until it fills me up, ngh..ahhh-“

Din thinks he’s going to explode from your filthy words, then he knows he’s going to explode when he looks down at where the two of you are connected and sees a ring of white around the base of his cock, “Holy shit, baby. Look at you already creaming around me. My perfect bunny. Doing so good riding this dick, taking me so well. So fucking perfect.”

He presses one of his hands against your stomach, balls tightening when he swears he can feel some movement against his palm from the inside, and uses his thumb to draw his name on your swollen clit.

It’s too much, too much. The stretch and burning sting of having taken Din’s cock without much prep, his filthy words of praise, the lewdness of fucking in his car in broad daylight parked out in the open in front of his place of business, the tenderness of your new pet name, the delicious pressure on your clit – you come. You come with a soundless scream, the stuttering of Din’s name punctuated by sharp gasps of air, you body shudders and shivers as you clench down hard on Din’s cock. Hand threading, then fisting the hair at the base of your neck, Din fucks up into you as he praises you through your high.

“So fucking gorgeous when you come for me, pretty bird.”

“My little bunny did such a good job on daddy’s dick.”

“You feel so good, baby. Made for me.”

You’re still so full, but now also so pliant and eager to please; with what remaining energy you have, you bounce down hard, meeting every one of Din’s upward thrusts so he bottoms out in you each time, the force of each drive has your ass jiggling as it slaps down on his thighs. Din grunts and pants as he chases his own finish; you hug yourself around his neck, and babble, “Thank you for making your bunny come, daddy. Felt so good to gush all over your dick. Want to do the same for you, Din. Please, please, fill me up. Need your cum, please.” Never one to deny you anything, Din comes with a roar, filling your pussy with rope after rope of his milky cum so you grow even fuller and continue to hum, “Thank you, thank you, daddy.”

Your post “workout” cooldown comprises of gentle strokes to the back, soft cradling of heads, and quiet words of devotion; tired and satisfied in Din’s embrace, you start to shiver, and this time not from pleasure. Coming out into the cold air while sweating from a run, then getting naked in a colder car was probably not the smartest idea, but you hadn’t been really thinking about the well-being of your health at the time. Din rubs his big hands over your arms to warm you up, “Pretty bird, let’s get you dressed.” You find your gym clothes but the idea of putting on damp clothes is wholly unappealing, so Din reaches his long arms into the trunk and roots around for some spare clothes. Stepping out of the truck in an oversized yellow Lakers t-shirt and Din’s sweatpants that you’ve rolled up multiple times, you realize it couldn’t be any more obvious what the two of you have been up to.

Getting your things from the trunk, you decide to go through the side entrance straight up to Din’s apartment to avoid any walk of shame embarrassment in the gym. Giving him a parting kiss at the front door, you whisper, “Hope it’s okay we did that, Din. Don’t want anyone to file a complaint against Mando’s.” You look so cute, worried about the reputation of his business, Din can’t help but yank you against him via the waistband of his pants and give you a deep reassuring kiss, “Perk of being a Mando, pretty bird – no one can say shit to you,” before sending you upstairs with a spank.

---

You start to feel a tickle in your throat when you go to sleep on Sunday, and by the time you wake up for work on Monday, it’s a full-blown sore throat. You trudge through a morning of meetings, trying to avoid the pounding of your head and attempt to soothe your throat with lozenges when your team gathers at the door to your office and point a makeshift cross made out of pens and rubber bands at you, telling you to go home.

You gather your computer and some files and tell them you’ll work from home until you’re better, but they insist you rest; you compromise and say you’ll be available by email before heading home.

Din is doing double duty again his week; although you haven’t voiced your concerns, you've noticed that Din’s been a little restless as of late, him and Paz meeting more frequently over an increasing number of border skirmishes and disputes that need to be handled. You’re not sure if it’s anything serious, but you do know that the need to step up security has been weighing on Din – he himself stepping in and putting in more face time than he has since his retirement. You call Din to let him know that you seem to have caught a cold, and you think it’s better if he doesn’t come over, in case he catches it too. With him working long hours, you don’t want anything to risk him getting even less rest than he already is. As expected, he protests, but you insist even though you will miss him.

The next morning you wake up feeling like hot garbage. You slog through about two hours of work before making the executive decision to put your out-of-office on and reschedule you remaining meetings. Your team tells you they don’t want to hear from you until next week but know you’re likely too stubborn to agree to that. You take a bunch of drugs and wonder how you got sick. You’re usually pretty healthy and while the weather is getting chillier, you’re not out much without being bundled up?

Oh.

Your drowsy brain flashes a vignette of sweaty bodies in the backseat of a car, windows fogging as the heat from illicit activities condense against windows cooled by the lower outside temperatures. Of Din’s face buried into your neck, holding you close as you both calm down, your naked body cooling and shivering after your explosive highs. So, this man really will be the death of me, you think, as you pass out.

You wake up groggy and with your throat on fire later in the afternoon. Popping some more drugs, you reply to some work emails and the messages from your friends and Din checking in. You know he’s doing another late night with the Mandos, so you downplay your symptoms a bit so he will acquiesce to your suggestion that he go straight home to rest again. It’s easier to do over text; a phone call would have given away your loss of voice and sent him racing over. With your friends, you can be more candid, I’m dying you tell them – they all immediately volunteer to come over but you tell them to stay away for their own sakes. Going to bed early after taking Al out, you debate dinner but ultimately go without because you can’t handle swallowing any food.

Wednesday is… a blur. You don’t even turn on your computer today or look at your phone. You drag yourself out of bed, take Al out, feed Al, then curl up on the couch shivering. Shit. This is the flu. Your muscles ache, your head is splitting open, and you can add a stuffed-up nose to your growing list of symptoms. Using the energy you have left to grab more blankets, take some drugs and pull down the blinds, you’re guessing the fever is next. That or death.

It's dark when you finally wake up to your phone buzzing on the coffee table; you groggily look at the time, shoot, it’s 7 pm already? You don’t feel well rested at all. You need to take Al out. Ignoring the call and what you think are a bunch of missed notifications on your phone, you thrown on a jacket over your sweats and apologize profusely to Al while waiting for the elevator. Once outside, you have to admit that the crisp cool air feels amazing against your hot skin, and you’re debating if you should risk taking Al for a short walk when your phone rings again. You pick up when you see it’s Din, “Hubo?” you croak out, barely audible.

“Pretty bird… you sound terrible,” Din’s been worried about you all day. He hasn’t liked the idea of you being alone and sick, but you were pretty insistent that it wasn’t anything to worry about while encouraging him to stay at his place. He’s been feeling a bit off kilter being apart from you; even though he’s exhausted from pulling double duty with the Mandos, he misses at least seeing you and Al for your nightly walk. Now he’s even more thrown when he realizes you’ve been downplaying the severity of your illness for whatever reason.

“Thanks,” you joke, but it doesn’t come out sounding jovial; in fact, it’s barely the sound of a scratch.

“Baby, I’m going to come over and-” Din starts to say when you interrupt, “No, no, you’ll get s-” before you’re stopped mid-sentence by a coughing fit.

Din’s already gathered his things and is getting in his truck by the time you’ve finished coughing, “I’m fin-” you’re saying when you’re cut out by the sound of a siren going by.

Din says your name. He hardly ever says your name; it’s always pretty bird, or baby, or sweetheart, or some other endearment. And he never says it in this low, warning tone, like he’s afraid of what he might say if he doesn’t say your name instead. He repeats it, then, “Who is walking Al while you’re sick?”

Why do you feel like you’re in trouble whether you answer or not? Your body clearly doesn’t want to get in trouble either because it figures the best thing to do is launch another coughing fit.

Din softens a little, “Pretty bird, get inside and get in bed, I’ll be over soon,” and he hangs up before you can attempt to argue.

When you and Al come in a few minutes later, you feed him and give him some fresh water, all while giving him as many fussings as you can muster as a continued apology for having ignored him all day. You trudge over to the kitchen thinking you should eat something, clearly the lack of food has not been aiding your recovery, but as you peer in your fridge, the idea of having to prepare anything overwhelms you. You pour yourself some orange juice and use it to wash down some more flu medication and then look through you phone at the messages you’ve missed while sleeping. You’re mid-scroll when there’s a knock on your door; after opening the door, you quickly step back to let Din in and cover your mouth with your hand so you don’t breathe your germs all over him.

“None of that now, pretty bird,” Din says firmly, reaching for you and pulling you in close with one arm before planting a kiss on the top of your hot head.

“You’ll get sick,” you murmur into his chest.

“Then I’ll get sick,” he puts the bags he brought on the foyer table before gently shuffling you towards your bedroom.

When he sees that your made bed (when did you do that!?) does not look slept in, he tsks, “They say that doctors make the worst patients,” he lays you down after pulling the covers back, tucking you in after, “but I think it’s actually stubborn little girls that work in finance.”

His words are lighthearted but you know he’s worried about you, so you play along and whisper as loud as your painful throat will let you, “Sorry, daddy.”

Din kisses you on your forehead, “You’re burning up. I wish you had let me come over sooner, baby. Take care of you and Al.”

“Didn’t want to bother you, Din,” you murmur, snuggling down into your bed; just being in his very presence has relaxed you. That and the drugs kicking in, has you feeling pliant and snoozy.

“You never bother me, sweetheart. Except maybe when you don’t tell me how sick you really are and you go out in the cold while you have a fever,” he says pointedly.

You yawn and close your eyes, confessing, “You seem so stressed out with all the stuff that’s going on with the Mandos lately, Din. Didn’t want to add to your load, make you feel like you have to come and see me and Al when you’ve already had a difficult day.”

“You ever think that maybe seeing you and Al is exactly what I need after a long hard day of seeing some bad shit go down?” says Din, quietly.

Your eyes open wide; you can’t believe you haven’t thought of it like that. You know that anytime you’re having a bad day, it’s been made better the instant you see Din’s face, and even while you’ve been sick this week, you’ve longed for his soothing embrace. Why didn’t you think it would be the same for him? You sit up so fast you get dizzy, but throw your arms around Din’s shoulders and bury your face in his neck, “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”

“It’s okay, pretty bird. You were just trying to take care of me. You need to let me take of you too, okay? I like taking care of you.”

You nod into him and let Din gently lay you down again. As you snuggle back into your covers, you pat the other side of the bed, “Come and sit with me and tell me about your day and all the shit that’s been going on until I fall asleep.”

Din climbs onto the bed and starts to pet your hair, “Sounds good. But whenever you wake up next, I’m going to feed you some soup, okay?” You nod, and feel the bed jostle some more as Al hops up on the bed to join in on the family time. He lays down between you and Din, resting his head on Din’s lap so Din can pat his head as well.

When you’re all settled in, Din looking like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, starts to share. First you learn some background: in addition to the Fett family, there other powerful syndicates in play - The Pykes, the Hutts, the Guavians, to name a few. You make a face when you remember Gorga Hutt and his slimey cronies from Jimmy’s fight night and Din chuckles as if reading your mind. Apparently, years ago, before Boba rose to power, the rival gangs ran unchecked, and violence in the streets was a common occurrence. Gangs constantly fighting for territory or profits made for a lot of instability and it was an unsafe time for Din’s neighbourhood as well as many others in the city. Once Boba had built up sufficient territory and muscle to be taken seriously, he had called the families together and brokered a peace treaty; physical borders and commercial limits were drawn that minimized conflict and overlap of business interests, ensuring prosperity and minimizing bloodshed for all. Din recalls for you how many of his earlier years as Boba’s enforcer were spent strengthening and defending these borders and boundaries. Happily, for the most part things have been stable for many years; nothing is ever truly peaceful but everyone has been co-existing without issue.

However, in the past month or so, something had shifted; little problems and violations have been occurring with increasing frequency.

“What kind of problems?” you ask, you’re fighting sleep to make sure you don’t miss any of what Din is telling you. Din sighs, “Things that if they were to happen as a one-off, wouldn’t necessarily be concerning. Like vandalism of a business under one family’s protection, or minor altercations among lower ranking members from rival families in public places, or even the theft of known family members’ property.” Din rubs his face in frustration. There’s nothing to prove it but Din doesn’t feel that these incidents are isolated; there must be something bigger at play. For now, the Mandos are being dispatched to put out these figurative (and in one case, literal) fires, and to beef up security where future infractions are likely to take place, but Din thinks they need to investigate these events as a whole to see if there is something more sinister behind it all. It’s really been stressing him out.

Holding Din’s hand and stroking it so that you’re the one now comforting him, “I think you should trust your experience with this type of unrest. Plus, you don’t have any reason not to listen to your gut. What does Paz think?”

“He agrees with me, but he’s the leader now and his orders are to quell and prevent further disturbances. Any investigation has got to be secondary.”

“I see. What do you think is going on?” you nuzzle Din’s hand with your cheek, letting him know he can think out loud with you.

Din rubs his chin, “I don’t think it’s a new player, they seem almost too careful. None of the incidents ever hit any big enough targets or players that would lead to full scale retaliation. So it has to be an existing family in order to be in the know. The problem is, I can’t see any of the families risking all out war… for what? A couple of corners? The cost of a few repairs?”

Your analytical brain is turning, “Are the other families run like the Fetts? I mean, when you say it can’t be one of the families, what you really mean is you don’t think it’s a family sanctioned plan or attack, like it isn’t approved by leadership? But, are any of the families big enough or loosely run enough that people could go rogue? Or get away with stuff without their leaders knowing?”

“Hmmmmm… good point, pretty bird. None of the other families are like the Fetts, actually. Boba’s power never came from numbers, but from solidarity… stronger together, is the family motto. Everyone knows what everyone is doing and we stick together, no secrets. As I understand it, that’s not how the other families are run – they’re bigger for one thing. And there’s a lot of segregation so no one knows everything. Everything is need to know and people sort of stick to their own lanes �� it’s so no one amasses enough power within the organization to overthrow anyone.” Din shrugs, “I mean, seems like a weird way to run things to me. What you're suggesting would still be risky, and I don’t know why someone would take that risk, but it's definitely possible we should be looking for people who are doing things without proper family sanction.” Din grins down at you, “Smart girl.”

You smile back, “Really?”

“Really. I can think of a few people I want to look into right off the bat. You’ve given me lots to think about, pretty bird. Now go to sleep.”

Yawning a big yawn, you close your eyes and smile, murmuring, “I helped.”

---

When you wake up, it’s nearly midnight; you’re groggy and still feverish, but your stomach is growling and there’s a delicious smell coming in from the kitchen.

You pad out to living room to find Din working on his laptop, a pair of reading glasses perched on his adorable nose. When he sees you, he sets everything down on the coffee table, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Having decided that honesty is the best policy, you croak out, throat still scratchy, “Hungry.”

“Good!” Din guides you to the kitchen and gently helps you up onto a high top at the kitchen island.

As Din takes out a bowl, you ask, “What’s that?” Curious about the pot that’s simmering on the stove; you think it’s the source of the delicious aroma you woke to earlier.

“Peli’s famous chicken noodle soup,” Din ladles some into a bowl.

“You made this?”

“Yeah right. No, Peli won’t share the recipe. Says if we’re lucky she’ll will it to one of us when she dies. Nah, she made this batch for you when she found out you were sick.”

“That’s so nice. She didn’t need to do that. I’ll have to bake her some cookies to thank her when I’m better.”

“She’ll like that, but she wanted to. Pretty girl, don’t you get it? You’re one of us now and we take care of each other. You have more people than you know that have your back.” He puts the steaming bowl of soup in front of you and tells you to wait. Grabbing a blanket from the couch, he wraps it around you, tucking in your arms. You manage a small laugh, “How am I supposed to eat my soup?”

“I’ll feed you,” he holds a hand up when he sees your expression, “you said you’d let me take care of you.”

You nod. It’s not in your nature to let people wait on you hand and foot, but you still feel bad for not telling Din how sick you were earlier so, you sit, bundled up on your chair, and let Din spoon the soup that he blows on to cool into you waiting mouth. It’s incredible. Even your stuffed up head can taste the explosion of flavours, the ginger clearing up your sinuses a bit, and the carrots, chicken and noodles all tender enough to be swallowed painlessly. Din patiently feeds you the entire bowl, and you patiently let him; the look of relief and devotion that Din is giving you is enough to make you glad that you let him. After you’ve brushed your teeth, Din sends you straight to bed, hardly needing any convincing to stay with you until you fall asleep.

The next day, Din calls out from work, both jobs. He knows if he goes in, he’ll just be distracted by how you’re doing – plus, he’s making some headway in the investigative notes that he's making for Paz. He does all the walks with Al, and feeds you more soup. He runs you a hot bath filled with eucalyptus bath salts and stays with you while you soak your achy muscles. When he dries you, you try to give him a seductive look, but end up doubling over coughing and he tells you that while he still finds you very sexy even sick (Is that sarcasm?), you need to conserve your energy. You make a face at him when he tucks you into bed. You sleep. By the late afternoon, you feel like you can sustain consciousness for more than an hour and you opt to lay on the couch and hangout with Din. He puts on the comfort movie of your choice and massages your feet while you eat a yogurt. You fall back asleep before the end of the movie, barely registering when Din turns it off and takes you back to bed.

It's past midnight when you wake up again and the first irrational thing you think is that you’ve somehow gone back in time and gotten sick again, but this time worse. You feel disgusting. Your nose is no longer stuffy, but that’s because the snot is now just free flowing out of your face. You’re so snotty, in no time at all you’re surrounded by a ring of used tissues from having to blow your nose so much, and there’s no end in sight. Your sore throat and dry cough, which had been clearing up, have been replaced with rattling phlegm which you can’t seem to clear no matter how hard you hack, but you try until your eyes water. Ewwwwwwwwwwww.

Din, appears in your doorway when he hears you, “Baby, you okay?”

You look up at him, squinting through your tears at his sleep tousled hair and the wrinkles on the pajamas he must have changed into. You woke him. And this is the thing that just breaks you and you start to cry for real. He rushes over, scared, “Pretty bird, does something hurt? Let me make it better.” His obvious concern and caring tone of voice just make you cry harder, and now you’re snotting even more. Great. You hate that he’s seeing you like this. You’re not the smart, pretty, funny girl he dates, you’re this weak thing, sick and tired and gross. Totally unsexy. Completely unhelpful. Needy. Putting so much on him. He can’t even get a decent night’s sleep around you.

You don’t realize you’ve said this all out loud until Din tuffs out a little laugh. He climbs onto the bed and sits right across from you taking your hands in his, kissing them.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“No, it’s not,” you choke out between sobs, “You shouldn’t have to be here.”

Din sighs, but it’s not a sigh of exasperation, but of understanding; he tips your head up to meet his eyes, “I’m not here because I have to be, I’m here because I want to be.”

“Why? I’m so gross.”

Smiling, Din patiently explains, “Why? Because I love you, pretty bird, that’s why.”

Your eyes widen; your drowsy brain isn’t sure you heard him right, “You love me?”

He nods at you kindly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. But to you, in your current state, you can’t comprehend it, “Like this?”

Din lets out a deep laugh, one that fills the room, and he strokes your hair and looks lovingly at you, “Yes. I love you like this. Like the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, one who never ceases to think of the welfare and comfort of others even when she’s in an obvious state of discomfort herself. Like someone I truly love taking care of because it’s such an honour to take care of her. She’s strong and capable, and she doesn’t really need me and never asks anything of me, but trusts me enough to let me be around her when she’s not feeling strong and capable even though she is definitely still all those things. It’s an honour to be good enough to take care of you, pretty bird, because the only person that can do the job properly is you, and it’s an honour to come second to you for anything.”

“Yes, I love you like this. And I love you when you’re playing with Al, when you’re sneaking the treats you bake to Jimmy when you think Greef isn’t looking, and when you’re happy just to keep me company while I work. I love you when just the sight of you brings a peace into my life that I didn’t know was possible, and when you laugh, or call me ‘old man’ or when you listen to me talk about the Mandos and never judge. I love you when I see your name pop up on my phone and when you hold my hand when we walk Al together.”

“I love you all the time, pretty bird.”

Now you’re crying for a different reason, though no longer hysterical; just silent tears running down your face as you come to the obvious but inescapable conclusion about your connection to this magnificent force of a man in front of you, “I love you, too, Din.”

And you do. You do love him. You love all that he is, all that he’s capable of, and all of who he chooses to be on a daily basis. You love his kindness, his protectiveness, his compassion, his gentleness. You love that he lives by a code that values loyalty, respectfulness, and helping others, and he practices this creed in every little thing he does. You love his playfulness, and his sharp wit, and how being able to make him laugh feels like an incredible accomplishment and when you do it, you just immediately want to do it over and over again. You love that he always makes you feel wanted and cherished, but never treats you like you’re breakable. You love how he’s constantly pushing up his reading glasses, and thinks they make him look old but will blush when you tell him how attractive you find them. You love him when he’s bringing you and your work team dinner and remembers that someone’s gluten free. You love him when he places his hand on your thigh when he’s driving, and you love him when he pushes up your sleeves when they start to slip when you’re washing dishes even without you asking him to. Yes, you love him all the time too.

You can’t tell him all that right now, though; you’re too sick and sleepy, but you think you’ll be able to tell tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. For now, you love him by letting him love you, snot and all. Clearing away all the tissues on your bed, you lay back down and scoot backwards towards of the middle of the bed, making a space for Din and hold your arms out, I need you. Din’s smile spreads wide across his face, relieved and content, he climbs in and wraps you up in his arms. Stroking your hair, your back, as your breathing evens.

Drifting off, you roll over so your back is pressed to Din’s chest, taking comfort in feeling him there, a physical and proverbial wall for you to lean on, “Good night, Din. I love you.”

“I love you more, pretty bird. Good night.”

#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #modern!din djarin #modern au #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #no y/n

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moonxmagix · 1 year

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Cubicles

Pairing: Gerard Way x Fem Reader secretary

CW: power imbalance, use of daddy, brat, spanking, fingering, choking, p in v, slight degradation, drinking, drunk while p in v, semi public ?, face fucking, hair pulling, soft ending, 18+

Summary: You are Gerards secretary and y'all do some nasty stuff in his office and at his home.

It had been my one year anniversary at my new job. I was the CEO’s secretary and was always told how I did an excellent job. I was an overachiever you’d say, I’d take over jobs before my boss told me to, and spend all nighters on work. I was one of the very few women in the office but I didn’t mind, it usually meant I got more expensive gifts! But my pay for the work I did was not satisfactory.

I love my job and wouldn’t trade it for the world. My boss Mr. Way was an excellent business man with the best of manners. But, he was a flirt, a tease, you’d say. Your attraction to him never went beyond a steamy makeout session in his office and some hands between your thighs. If you saw him outside of the law firm you’d never think he was some top boss to a bunch of lawyers that represented mob members. I will admit it was scary at times having grown men yell at you and not being able to yell back.

Being from New Jersey the one thing that got me in trouble the most was my mouth. Mr. Way loved it though, it tested his control. His closest friends and top employees were big flirts too, but I didn’t want them as much as I wanted him.

I walked into the law firm and greeted people as I passed. I had a small office of my own but it wasn’t nearly as spacious as Mr. Way’s. I made special cookie brownies for my one year anniversary here and couldn’t wait to share them. I put all my heavy things away and first went to go get coffee for myself and a couple others. As I stood at the coffee machine I felt a hand smack my ass. I turned to see Mr. Iero standing next to me, I was so used to him being touchy-feely. “I could sue you for that, Mr. Iero,” I said, trying to sound serious. He chuckled, “You’d lose anyway,” he took a sip of the fresh coffee I made.

I rolled my eyes, “You’d lose anyway,” I mocked him. “Better watch it or I’ll get you in trouble with Gerard,” he raised his brow following behind me. I opened Mr. Way’s office door to not see him there, “Is he here yet?” I asked Frank. He was always early even before me and I made sure to get there at 6:30 am sharp. Keep in mind I live in Jersey and transport by train to NYC.

“Haven’t seen him, why? You miss your lil boyfriend,” he teased. I placed his coffee on his desk ready for when he does get here. “Not my boyfriend and I brought a special treat for later and I want him to be the first to try,” I said going to make my way to Mr. Toro and Mr. Mikey as we called him. It’s confusing to have two different Mr. Ways. “Now, leave me to it, yeah?” I smiled ruffling his long hair.

I could tell I got him hot and bothered by the way he unbuttoned his first two buttons on his shirt. I walked into the office that both Mr. Mikey and Mr. Toro shared. “Hi boys,” I smiled, receiving compliments from both. “Don’t you look amazing,” Mr. Toro said, kissing my hand. “What’re you dressing up for,” Mr. Mikey asked. “It’s officially been one year since I started,” I smiled. “Thank you for the coffee Mrs. Y/N, and congratulations to you,” Ray smiled and I went to go see if Mr. Way was here yet.

I snuck by his office and peeked in the door window to see him working on his computer and taking sips of his coffee. I hurried to my office and grabbed the cookie brownies I made. I checked my makeup one last time and freshened up my dark red lipstick.

My heels echoed in the halls as I nervously approached his door, I knocked before opening right away. Gerard met me at the door and saw my hands full of brownies and papers. “Whatcha got here?” he said excited and curious. He took the papers from me and placed several kisses on my cheek and jaw. Smothering me.

I blushed and laid the brownies on his desk, a cigarette from his ash tray filling the air with smoke. He stood in front of me, staring at me up and down. “I made brownies and wanted you to be first to try them,” I said, scooting closer to him, our faces inches apart as I put my arms around his waist. “Aren’t you sweet,” he smiled, grabbing my chin and kissing me gently trying not to get my lipstick on him. I gave him a piece and I heard him moan in joy, “They’re delicious but not as sweet as you,” he said, rubbing our noses together cutely.

But there was more that I wanted to talk about with him, getting a raise. Which I knew wasn’t going to be easy. Gerard sat on his chair taking a puff of his cigarette, “Could I talk to you about something?” I asked shyly. “Of course you can,” he said, patting his lap motioning me to sit on it. I played with his messy hair and took in his features, it didn’t look like he got much sleep. “So?” he said, pulling me out of my gaze.

“Y’know it’s my one year anniversary here anddd I wanted to see if I could get a raise,” I was so nervous for his response. He chuckled, “We’ll see about that. You’ll have to earn it though,” he said with a smirk. I swallowed, “Haven’t I done enough Mr. Way? So not fair,” I whined. He grabbed my face and pulled his mouth next to my ear, “You watch that fuckin attitude right now, understand?” he said, placing a kiss on my neck. I nodded, when he got dominant like that it made my heart race and that wasn’t the only thing having a heartbeat.

I moaned when he kissed my neck, making his demeanor change completely. He told me to get up from his lap and I thought he was going to leave the room but he locked the door and put the blinds down so no one could see inside. He rolled up his sleeves and walked over to me with a dominating hunger in his eyes. “Take your skirt off,” he demanded as he sat in his leather chair.

I hesitantly took my skirt off, leaving me in a black silk button up and black tights. Shoes left with the skirt. He grabbed me and laid me over his lap, “What’re you doi-,” SMACK. I moaned out in pleasure and pain. “Brats like you don’t get to boss around their daddy like that,” he said, smacking each cheek several times. He rubbed and grabbed my ass with such force, leaving more hard smacks. He told me to get up which I did and he shoved all the papers that were once cluttered up to the side.

He pushed me against the desk, towering over me. I grabbed his black and white striped tie and pulled his face closer to me, “Is that all you got, sir?” I teased him, knowing that would only make him more rough with me. He pushed me onto the table and ripped a large hole in my tights. “Gerard!” I was upset with him at that moment, I didn’t bring an extra pair with me. “I’d prefer if you didn’t wear these. I want easier access to what’s mine,” he said, getting on his knees and kissing around my thigh and on the small fabric that covered my pussy.

He slowly moved my panties over, running his finger up and down the wetness. I bit my lip trying to contain the moans. He teased my hole with his fingers, “Beg,” he said, removing his fingers. “Gerard please, give it to me,” I begged him, getting sexually frustrated with him. He inserted two fingers and slowly worked them, my juice leaking out and all over his fingers. His thumb rubbed on my clit which drove me mad. I was a squirming, wet, and hot mess for him.

“Gerard, I..I’m gonna,” I breathed heavily, gripping his full head of hair. “Cum for me you dirty whore,” he growled, slapping my sensitive cunt. I came all over his fingers and he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tasting me. He unbuckled his pants, throwing the belt onto the floor and ripped his pants off, leaving him in his boxers. You could see how hard he was, he pressed his bulge right against my soaking wet cunt.

He pressed his lips to mine, our mouths dancing messily together. His lips and face were covered in lipstick, but mine was too. Gerard took out his cock and teasingly rubbed it against my folds. He slapped my cunt with it, “How bad do you want it? How bad do you want your boss's cock huh?” he smirked. “Give it to me, I’ve never wanted something so bad,” I whined, throwing my arms around his neck. “You’re forgetting something sugar,” he said, pulling his cock away from my cunt.

“Please daddy,” I whispered in his ear, my warm breath sending chills down his arms. He slowly put his cock inside me and I moaned in pain and pleasure as he was thick in size. His pace sped up and his hips slammed into mine. My moans echoed in the room and Gerard kept a tight grip around my throat. “Take that fucking cock,” he murmured in my ear. “Look at you, taking your boss’s cock like the whore you are. Let everyone know how I’ve claimed you,” he said, staring into my soul. “You don’t own me, you stupid man,” I smirked, fighting back with him.

“Oh yeah? Everyone on this floor can hear you right now taking my fat cock. If they try anything with you they’re gone,” he said, pinning my arms down and slamming into me. My walls tightened as I came all over his cock, my ears rang and my mouth was dry. “Daddy’s gonna cum, holy shit,” he said, pushing his hair out of his face. Gerard had plans of pulling out but I stopped him by wrapping my legs around him, forcing him to cum inside me.

“Look at you, what a good girl,” he said, kissing me all over my lipstick covered face. “Do I get that raise?” I said, trying to catch my breath. “We’ll see,” he smiled, putting his clothes back on. I took my tights off and threw them in the bin. We looked at ourselves in the mirror and tried our best to wipe off the lipstick. I laughed at him trying to rub it off with his fingers, smudging it even more.

“Do you think they’re gonna stare at me?” I whispered standing at the door. He chuckled lightly, “No sweetheart, just hide your face and you should be fine,” he said, staying in his office. I took a deep breath and exited. I used my hand to hide my face but while shielding myself I accidentally bumped into someone. “What the hell happened to you?” Frank said. “Mind your business,” I said pushing past him into my office. I scoured through my purse for my makeup wipes and started hurriedly wiping it off. KNOCK, “I need to talk, it’s important. I’m too impatient to wait,” Frank came in bothering me.

I groaned in annoyance, “Do you not have any manners? Holy shit,” I said, throwing my wipe away and taking out my makeup to touch up. “Do YOU have any manners?! Moaning for the entire office to hear,” he mocked my moans. I got fed up and took my heel off and threw it at him.

~^~^~^~^~^~^

It was about 7pm and I was beyond tired, my office was dimly lit by my computer screen and a lamp in the corner. I sighed frustrated trying to set up meetings and such for Gerard. KNOCK, “Come in!” I yelled not taking my eyes off the screen. “My lil workaholic,” Gerard said, leaning against the desk. I sighed, “I wouldn’t be if these people knew how to communicate,” I was frustrated and ran my fingers through my hair. “Log off for the night! Wanna get drinks with us?” he offered, grabbing my stuff and placing it in front of me. “Who’s us?” I asked. “Frank, Ray, Mikey. Oh and Mikey told me he was scared,” Gerard laughed. “He’ll get over it. But yes, I’d love to,” I said, grabbing my cardigan so I wouldn’t absolutely freeze on this autumn night.

We all walked out of the building together with me wrapped around Gerard’s arm, the taxi ride to the bar was just the guys teasing us for our little workplace hookup. “You’re just jealous!” I exclaimed, nudging Frank in the ribs.

We got to the bar and we got placed in a dark private corner, Gerard and I sat together on one side and the three of them on the other. Several drinks were ordered and I quickly got drunk but not belligerent. I was so touchy with Gerard, whispering several compliments in his ear all night. “You smell so good, it’s so intoxicating,” I said, kissing his neck. “I want you,” I whispered in his ear. Gerard grabbed my face with his hand and kissed me, “Wait until we get home,” he said which caught me off guard.

“Home?” I said, confused. “Mhm, you’re going home with me tonight,” he turned his attention back to the table after his sly comment. While I was still intoxicated by his smell and way with words, I got myself on his lap and rested my head on his chest. “Look at you two, your love makes me sick almost,” Ray said jokingly which made me chuckle. “He doesn’t know that,” I said, shushing him with my finger. I loved Gerard, he was my type to the T. I felt his chest vibrate from nervously chuckling at my drunk confessions.

~^~^~^~^~^~^

I stood outside with Gerard holding me up and forcing water down my throat. Which I fought of course. “Y/N sweetheart it’s starting to rain, please just drink this while I get a cab,” he said sternly which made me stop and do as he pleases. I love when he bosses me around, I couldn’t imagine myself as anyone else’s secretary.

He catches a cab for us and takes me to his place, my legs draped over his. He walked me to his high rise apartment and I was in awe at how nicely decorated it was. “Holy shit, this is really your place huh?” I said, starting to undress myself without any care in the world. Left to my bra and underwear. I make my way to his bed and hop into the cold sheets, “Can I finally have you?” I giggle trying to hint at him.

There he stood at the end of bed, undressing himself in such a hurry to get to me. He crawled to me getting under with me and immediately assumed into the big spoon position. His body was so warm despite looking like a vampire. Wet kisses covered my neck making me giggle, “What’s so funny?” he joked. “It just feels good,” I smile, tiredly. “I’m not done with you yet,” he said, shoving his face into my neck, kissing and sucking. “Gerard,” I moaned. “Everyones gonna see-” he covered my mouth, shushing me.

His other hand trailed down to my abdomen, his fingers slowly lifting the edge of my panties. His fingers worked themselves around my clit, I wanted more of him. “You’re already so fucking wet for daddy,” he growled into my ear. I palmed his cock through his underwear, feeling the wetness of precum leaking through. I stopped him so I could take his cock out, pulling his underwear off and onto the floor. I spit on his head, lubricating my hand.

“Suck on it you dirty whore,” he grabbed a fist full of my hair. I whimpered as he shoved my mouth onto his cock. My mouth was small and I couldn’t help but gag on his length. He bucked his hips up, going deeper into my throat. Drool began to fall and pool as he face fucked me, not loosening his grip on my hair. I felt him pulse and do one more push down my throat to release himself. He pulled away with cum all over my lips. “C’mere baby,” he said, pulling me back to his chest.

He lifted my leg and teased my hole with the tip of his cum and saliva covered cock. Without warning he shoved his cock inside me making me gasp in pleasure. “Yeah? This what you want?” he purred in my ear, pounding. The sound of skin clapping together.

Somehow we ended up in doggy but my phone rang. I groaned in annoyance and I was going to hit decline but Gerard said, “Who is it?” he questioned. “Frank,” I moaned out as he didn’t stop fucking me. “Answer it,” he demanded. I hit the green call button and put it on the speaker.

“Hey I just wanted to know if you got home safely,” he asked, seeming about as drunk as I was earlier but tried to hide it. “Y-yeah, I did,” I said, trying to not moan or whimper but it still came off suspicious. “Are you okay Y/N? Do I need to come over?” he said, trying to have an excuse to hook up. “No, it’s fine. FUCK!” I yelled into the pillow as Gerard railed me, cumming all over his cock. “Gerard, please-,” I said, gripping the sheets.

“Well I’ll let you two love birds have fun,” he giggled like a schoolgirl. I hung up the phone and Gerard pulled my head back by the throat and pulled me up. He kissed me on the neck and back, burrowing his cock deep inside me. He pulled out and I felt his cum leak out of me.

Our bodies collapsed together and my eyes fluttered. “You’re so hot, you know that?” he said, stroking my hair. “Say’s you,” I poke his chest. “We should probably get cleaned up before we go to bed sticky and sweaty,” he suggested, rubbing my thighs gently and kissing my temple. I agreed and was able to stand but barely, as my legs were too wobbly and weak. Gerard noticed and came to my side, “Let daddy help you,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist.

He started the shower and the steam filled the bathroom, we took turns washing each other and it was everything I could’ve wanted. It was bliss, to have someone care for me, love me, hold me. The thought of past relationships came rushing to my head, I covered my face with my hands. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Gerard asked, pulling my hands from my face. “It’s nothing, really,” I tried sucking up, letting the shower water cleanse my salty face.

“It’s clearly something, Y/N. No need to hide,” he said sweetly, he was a lot more protective than what I was used to but I loved it. It brought a sense of comfort and safety, not the type of protectiveness that sheltered you from the world. “I’ve just never felt so cared for, so wanted,” I said sniffling. “I’ll always be here for you, you’re my baby,” he said, holding me in his arms, rocking back and forth gently. “Does this make us…” I said, raising my brows at him. “Partners? Absolutely.”

#mcr shitpost #mcr #my chemical gerard #mychemicalromance #my chemical romance #my chem gerard #gerard way #Gerard Way smut #Gerard Way fanfic #gerard way fanficton #Gerard Way imagines #gee way #gerard way mcr #secretary #smut #mcr smut #gerard smut

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tomorrowusa · 3 months

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Right now is the time to get involved in the defeat of America's most dangerous enemy since the Cold War.

The traditional election season, starting on Labor Day, is a thing of the distant political past. And considering the magnitude of the threat to democracy, even waiting for the end of the primary season may be too late.

The worst president in our history is, arguably, stronger within the leadership ranks of the Republican Party than he has ever been. He is now the most dangerous presidential candidate in U.S. history. As a consequence, the great question before the rest of us is whether enough of us are ready to do whatever is necessary to defeat this threat as we have all those that have come before. Sadly, there is reason to believe that this time we may not meet the challenge. Right now, Donald Trump is one of two people who could be our next president. The race, at the moment, between him and President Joe Biden, is too close to call.

The people with their heads up their ass over Biden's age are either hypocrites or dissemblers. On Inauguration Day 2025, Donald Trump will be 95.66% of Joe Biden's age. And Trump will also be older in January of 2025 than Biden was upon assuming office in 2021. Biden may have a lifelong stutter but he is still grounded in reality in a way the narcissistic nepo baby Donald Trump never was.

Joe Biden by any objective metric has been one of the most successful presidents in modern U.S. history. He has led the creation of more major legislative initiatives benefiting the American people than any president in 60 years. He oversaw the creation of more than 14 million jobs during his first three years in office. He has brought down inflation and reduced the prices of vital medicines to affordable levels. He has restored American leadership worldwide, expanded our vital alliances like NATO, and stood up to our enemies. All presidents face challenges and make missteps. But it is hard to deny that in the wake of the U.S. economic recovery, the passage of the American Rescue Plan, the Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill, the CHIPs and Science Act, and the Inflation Reduction Act, the expansion of NATO, and the creation of new Indo-Pacific alliances, Biden’s record is formidable. That a president with this record is in a horse race with a candidate who is a menace to the country, who led an insurrection, who is a pathological liar whom courts have found to be a fraud and a rapist, and who has no real ideas, no credible policy proposals, no record of actually ever achieving anything for the American people is chilling.

In normal times, over 40% of US voters would NOT pick a notorious sex offender for president. But these are not normal times.

You would have thought that the sight of mobs carrying Trump flags and weapons and chanting for the death of Vice President Mike Pence on January 6, 2021, would have been alarm enough. You would have thought the same of Trump’s Access Hollywood tape, in which he confessed his impulse to abuse women. You would have thought the two dozen women who accused him of abuse would have had that effect. Even if none of those things were quite warning enough, you would have thought the findings in the E. Jean Carroll case would have been enough. After all, respected federal judge Lew Kaplan wrote, “The fact that Mr. Trump sexually abused—indeed, raped—Ms. Carroll has been conclusively established and is binding in this case.” It should have been enough. But so far, it has not been.

And who would have thought that the party of Ronald Reagan is now led by a stooge of the Evil Empire?

You would have thought that Trump reaching out on national television to our Russian adversaries for aid during the 2016 campaign would have been enough. You would have thought the conclusive findings of every major U.S. intelligence agency that Russia sought to aid Trump’s campaign would have been enough. You would have thought that Robert Mueller’s finding 10 instances of possible obstruction of justice by Trump would have been enough. You would have thought Trump kowtowing to Vladimir Putin and taking his word over that of our intelligence and law enforcement communities would have been enough. You would have thought his illegally withholding aid to Ukraine to seek dirt on Joe Biden would have been enough. You would have thought his impeachment for that would have been enough.

Are you willing to spend more time and money than in previous election cycles to end a major threat to Western democracy and to undermine homegrown fascism for at least the rest of this decade?

So, ask yourself, is that enough to make you do more than you have done? Is that enough to commit for the next 10 months to do more than you have ever done during an election year? To give more? To canvas more? To spread the word more? To help get voters to the polls? To ensure every member of your family, your friends, your co-workers do the same? The stakes are too high to do less than everything you can.

I rarely quote Margaret Thatcher and would probably disagree with at least 90% of her views. But she did know something about winning elections and combating the USSR. If she was good for just one thing, it's for this observation in a speech made in her retirement.

[N]o battles are ever finally won; you have to go on winning them by example and by being prepared to defend your way of life against those who would attack it.

If we learn just one thing from the Trump threat, it's that we can never rest on our past laurels. A slacker democracy is one which will not outlast a determined demagogue.

Civic involvement by pro-democracy citizens is absolutely necessary to maintain freedom.

#democracy #threat to democracy #donald trump #democracy vs. totalitarianism #trump is a tool of russia #trump is a sex offender #if you hate freedom vote for trump #register and vote #vote blue no matter who #support democratic candidates #the biden administration's economic growth programs #civic involvement #david rothkopf #bernard l. schwartz #election 2024

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

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Heart’s Munition

Chapter 1

Pairing Mob boss!Steve x single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.6k

Series masterlist

Warning: Steve is a slut (he will be through part of the series), talk of throwing up, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of cutting off hands, Elijah is our sweet boy (he deserves a bit of a warning) mentions of medication.

A/N: here we go with a new series! I know this is just the first chapter but the story I have envisioned is just ✨🤌🏻💋👩🏻‍🍳✨ both series and permanent taglist are open for 18+ only dividers related by the lovely Em @writing-for-marvel (originally made for is it a crime? But I thought they fit this fic!)

The sun hadn’t risen yet but you were already awake. There was a list you went over every morning before you could even step out of your small one bedroom apartment. It didn’t simply consist of making sure you had your keys, purse and phone with you, it was more complicated.

“Elijah,” you called softly from the side of your son’s bed. “Wake up my love.” You caressed his cheek as his eyes fluttered open. “Good morning baby.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Morning ma.” Elijah smiled sleepily at you.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good. I had a dream that I was riding on a giraffe but I was hanging on to it’s neck so I could see everything”

“That’s good baby, means the medicine is working. Did you have fun riding the giraffe?” He nods and you snicker while getting up to grab one of the many medications he’s on and prepare the first dose of the day. “Now, Mrs. Fields is going to be here in a few minutes, I already have your breakfast ready. All she has to do is warm it up for you. If you don’t feel sick afterward she’ll take you to school and pick you up after and then I’ll see you later tonight ok?”

“Ok.”

He accepts the medicine you give him and scrunches his face in disgust as the liquid goes down his throat. You sit with Eli for a few minutes and he sits in your lap, his face hidden in your neck. These little moments were everything to you because you weren’t sure why he was sick and if he’d survive it.

“Alright baby, I love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you to the moon and back ma. Have a good day at work.”

“Have a good day at school.” You smile and kiss his forehead.

In the living room you look over which medication needs to be refilled and you make an online request for them. Then you set a reminder on your phone to pick them up on your break. The door to the bathroom closes and you stop to listen to see if Elijah is throwing up but to your relief he isn’t. Soon enough the front door opens and Mrs. Fields walks in.

She had been your saving grace after moving to this new apartment. She lived in the building across the street and you ran into each other at the corner store. After knowing each other for a few weeks she offered to look after Elijah after school for you. At first you weren’t sure if it was a good idea but if you wanted to keep the job you had there was no other choice. Once Elijah started getting sick she stepped up even more. Without her you’d be out on the street by now.

She smiles at you causing the wrinkles around her eyes and the laugh lines to deepen. Her salt and pepper hair is up in a twist with a clip holding it in place. The older woman holds out a cup of coffee and a bag for you.

“Here, breakfast and before you complain remember you have to keep your strength up too.”

“Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.” You take the coffee and the bag and hold it in one hand while grabbing your bag. “Eli took his medicine already and he seems to be feeling good. I think today might be a school day.”

“I’ll get him ready then. Have a good day at work and don’t worry about a thing.”

“Bye, call me if you need anything.” You say before heading out of the door and in the direction of the nearest subway station.

The house, or better yet, the mansion was quiet which was a relief. It meant you had enough time to change into your uniform and get a second cup of coffee. As you put away your bag in the locker your employer had set up in a room by the kitchen. Just like always, you were one maid short and the other was late considering her locker was wide open.

“Morning Dom.” You greet the cook as you enter the kitchen.

“Ah, my favorite coworker.”

“And apparently your only coworker.” You tell the older man.

Dominick has worked at the mansion for a long time before you ever started working there. He was in his early fifties with a beer belly, chubby cheeks, tattoos covering all of his arms and a bald head. Your favorite thing about him was that he looked deadly but was the sweetest man on earth. In a weird way he had become a sort of father figure in your life. He was only one of the two people that knew about Elijah’s existence at the house. The other being Coulson, the estate manager.

“She’s probably running late, you know how that ditz is. I don’t even know why they hired her because she isn’t good at her job.”

“You know why she was hired.” You bat your lashes at Dom and smile sweetly. “Oh no, do you think you could get that for me, my skirt is way too short for me to bend over. If I do, you'd know I’m not wearing any panties.” You say in a high pitched voice. Dom laughs as he makes you a cup of coffee.

“You are trouble, Mia Cara.”

“Only the fun kind.”

“What’s the fun kind of what?” Dom turns to the stove while you turn around to see your Boss’s best friend and right hand walking into the kitchen.

Long brown hair, steel blue eyes and a smirk that could make anyone’s knees weak. Bucky Barnes takes the seat next to you at the breakfast bar and smiles in your direction while he awaits an answer.

“Nothing Mr. Barnes. It was just a conversation between Dom and I.”

“Don’t be like that doll. I just wanna be your friend is all.”

You roll your eyes and stand to wash the mug you’d used. “I don’t need friends, I need to get started with work seeing as I’m the only one here today. Have a good day Mr. Barnes.”

“Why don’t you ever call me Bucky?”

“I’ll call you Bucky the day you stop calling me Doll.” You give him a fake smile and walk out.

“Have I done something to make her so standoff-ish?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you. She just has her reasons, she’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“She didn’t have an issue being friends with you.” Bucky says annoyed at the fact.

“That’s because I’m charming and the ladies love me. Especially Y/N.”

“There’s no way, her heart is made of ice.”

“Fortunately for the rest of us, not everything revolves around you. Now let her be if she wants you to be her friend, she’ll let you in.”

Bucky just scoffs and takes the cup of coffee Dom puts in front of him.

Steve groans as he sits up in bed. Usually he’d already be up and down in his office by this time but he’d spent the better half of the early morning getting information out of some idiot that thought it’d be a good idea to steal from him. The rest of the morning was spent with the newest maid in bed.

She was pretty but she wasn’t anything special. He regretted taking her to bed the minute she started writhing beneath him like if she was possessed. He was good, he was great even, but she was just putting on a show as if that would prevent him firing her after this. Steve looked over his shoulder one more time before heading into his bathroom for a shower.

****

Once he got into his office Steve saw both Bucky and Sam waiting for him. By Bucky’s face alone Steve knew he had something to say.

“You really need to stop sleeping with the maids.” Bucky said as soon as he closed the door.

“Why does it matter who I sleep with?”

“Because you keep screwing Y/N over and I like her. She minds her business, turns a blind eye if we come in bloody and bruised and doesn’t ask any questions.”

“You’re trying to be friends with her aren’t you?”

“So what if I am? I think it would be good to befriend her, make sure she really won’t spill the beans if cops come asking questions.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t want any of his men to be friendly with you. Mostly because he wanted you for himself. So if his men did in fact become friends with you, getting you into his bed would be even more difficult. If he got what he wanted, which he always did, Steve would have to fire you. It was written into the employment contract as a way to protect himself. Steve knew his best friends and right hand men thought you were sweet, he did too. It was in your smile the first day Coulson introduced you.

The first time he made a pass at you though he also saw how angry you could get and you shut him down immediately. In all honesty your attitude turned him on so much he ended up having to take care of his hard on before he could continue his meetings. It had been a few months since then and you still wouldn’t sleep with him. So Steve getting you in his bed became a game for him. He liked the chase and you gave him the satisfaction of not being easy. But he knew it would be a matter of time before you caved and once you did he would make sure to give you a hefty sum of money and send you on your way. It didn’t matter that you were in fact a really good employee. Or that he was starting to care for you more than he’d like.

“Stop trying to be friends with the people I hire.”

“She’s different and she isn’t going to sleep with you. From what I can tell she needs the job more than she needs to get dicked down by you.” Sam finally chimed in. “Also I agree with Buck, stop fucking every woman you hire. Get someone at one of your clubs like a normal person.”

“I do who and whatever the fuck I want. That’s enough for this conversation. Do you have the buyers lined up?”

“Yes, our only issue is the Black Order. They’ve tried to corner at least three of our runners in the last few days. If we make the sale we’ll need extra bodies to make the delivery.” Bucky said, leaving behind the previous conversation and getting into work mode.

“Have Barton and Romanoff come in this afternoon so that we can plan a few routes. And have Belova and Bishop come in too, I want them on this issue with the runners.”

After that the three of them kept going on with different deals they were getting ready for. The last few months the Black Order had been trying to take over the city. Something Steve had worked hard to do and maintain. He wasn’t going to let a bunch of nobodies take over and push him out.

You’d just finished dusting the shelves in the living room and were heading to the kitchen to get some water when you see Jessica, the other maid, walk down from the second floor wearing one of Steve’s shirts. She smirks in your direction and walks straight into the kitchen with you following behind.

“Dom, make me an omelet for breakfast.” She demanded.

Dom looked at her and then at you. You only shrugged in response and grabbed a glass to get some water.

“Shouldn’t you be in your uniform? Why are you wearing that shirt?”

“Not that I have to answer to you but I won’t be needing my uniform anymore.”

“And why is that?” He asks amused.

“Well a lady shouldn’t kiss and tell but after weeks of flirting and dancing around our feelings, Steve and I have taken a step towards starting a beautiful relationship.” She says with a smile before it drops and she glared at Dom. “So unless you want me to have Steve fire you, you’ll do as I say.”

You laugh at the last part of her statement and Dom joins in.

“What is so funny? And don’t think that I haven’t seen the way you look at my Steve. You’re already on thin ice so you better show me some respect.”

“Why should I show you any respect?” You say once you’ve calmed down.

“Because I’m the lady of the house now, that’s why.”

That only makes you both laugh more and she lets out a frustrated whine.

“You obviously didn’t read the employment contract before you signed it.” You say as you wipe a tear away. Dom was still laughing, red in the face. “Coulson is going to flip out. You know how he gets all flustered when he has to fire someone.” You tell Dom and that only makes him laugh harder.

“We’ll see about that. And you can consider yourself fired after this.”

Jessica gets up and stomps her way toward Steve’s office. You and Dom follow her and watch as she opens the door without knocking and you cringe. That was a big no-no.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve’s tone made it clear that he was pissed.

“Stevie, will you please tell Dom that he has to do what I say?” Jessica said in a sickly sweet manner.

You rolled your eyes when you finally stepped in front of the doorway.

“Why would I tell them that? Last I checked, Coulson was responsible for the house staff.”

“I know,” she walked around his desk and sat on his lap. “But since things have changed between us and I’m now the lady of the house-“ Steve raises his hand to shut her up.

Sam and Bucky snicker. The latter looking in your direction and you mouth ‘delusional’ which only makes him laugh more.

“Where did you get the idea that you were the lady of the house?”

“Well after last night I thought that we would be together. Also I want Y/N fired.”

Steve runs a hand over his mouth and down to smooth out his beard.

“I’m not going to fire her. Now tell me, you do know what a one night stand is right?” He says as he gently pushes her off his lap.

Jessica looks at him dumbfounded while Steve picks up his office phone and asks Coulson to come into his office. The older man walks in a minute later and sighs as he realizes what’s going to happen next.

“Phil could you please explain to Jennifer the guidelines in the contract and handle whatever else is necessary.”

“My name is Jessica.” She stomps her foot like a child having a tantrum. She looked around to see if anyone was going to speak up but when no one did she focused on you. “I bet you’re really enjoying this aren’t you? He’s going to do the same with you.”

“Why do you think I haven’t slept with him?”

“Jessica, could you please follow me?” Coulson says already over the situation. “I need a meeting with you later, sir.”

Steve just waves him away and Jessica stomps all the way out of the office. Dom follows but heads to the kitchen and you remain where you are. Your attention is on the stairs as Jessica goes up to get her clothes so you don’t notice that Steve has moved to stand in front of you. When you look back he’s too close for comfort. You place your hand in the middle of his chest and push him back.

“I want a raise.” You say as you cross your arms.

Steve smirks as his eyes roam your figure and you roll your eyes.

“And why should I give you a raise?”

“For starters I’m doing the job of three people because you keep getting your dick wet with everyone Coulson hires. Also I’m a damn good employee. I deserve a raise.”

“You know I could just take care of you. All you have to do is say the word and I’d give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

You lean to the side to look at Sam and Bucky who are further in the office. “Is he always like this?”

“Unfortunately for all of us, doll. I mean Y/N.”

“You should have given me a heads up on day one Buck.”

He smiles, happy that he’s getting somewhere with you.

“I’d rather keep my job. So the raise?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“It’s not like I’m asking for a million fucking dollars.” You scoff. “Oh and I get to help Coulson hire the next two employees.”

“You’d make a good lady of the house and you would never have to lift a finger again.”

“Just get tested often.” You scoff. “Get it through your head. I will not be sleeping with you ever.” You say and you turn on your heel and leave.

Steve groans as he closes the door. His forehead rests against it as he tries to ignore the fact that he’s hard, again, because of you.

“I really like her.”

Sam agrees with Bucky as Steve turns to look at both of them with a scowl on his face.

“Just give her the raise, she deserves it.”

“I’ll think about it.” He sits behind his desk again. “Where were we?”

You ended up working until at least 7:30 because you were the only one but at least it was some extra money for you. Fortunately the day was finally over and you were grateful for that and the fact that it was Friday. That means you had two days to be at home with your baby to take care of him the way you wish you could all the time.

“Hey Mrs. Fields, how did today go?” You asked as soon as you walked through the door.

“Apparently school was very good. They had some type of group project to work on. And he seems to be feeling very good today although he did lay down for a little nap around five.”

“Ok good. Here you go.” You place some cash on the table in front of her. “Thank you for everything.”

“Please take this back, I’ve told you that you don’t have to pay me. I have my husband’s pension.”

“It’s the only way I’m comfortable with you doing so much for us. Please just take it.”

“Fine, but I’m still not going to use it. If you have an emergency just know you can come to me.”

You appreciate the gesture but you worked hard so that you didn’t have to depend on anyone. It was a lesson you learned the hard way when you found out you were pregnant at sixteen. Elijah’s father disappeared and your family turned their back on you for being a so-called disgrace. Not so long after informing your mom and stepdad of the pregnancy they kicked you out. They said they couldn’t have you giving your younger stepsister a bad example. So your entire pregnancy was spent in a shelter for women. The first few months of Elijah’s life hadn’t been easy but you figured it out. You were able to finish high school while working at the same time. It was shitty pay but it was something and you haven’t stopped working since.

“I’ll never tire of saying it Mrs. Fields but I really appreciate you.”

“Oh honey, you’ve given this old woman something to look forward to. If it wasn’t for you and Eli I think I’d lose my mind all alone. Now why don’t you get some rest.” She pats your back gently. “Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

You lock the door once she’s left and head toward Eli’s room. Sure enough he’s sleeping and considering it’s evening he’d probably sleep through the night. Some of the medication tended to make him drowsy. You sit on the couch with the intention of taking off your shoes and checking your bank account so that you can pay some bills before showering and changing into pajamas. Instead you end up asleep, it was where you slept every night anyways.

“Ma.” Elijah calls out just above a whisper but it still startles you awake. The first thing you think is that he doesn’t feel well but when you sit up and look at him, he gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s ok baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. You just never came in to say good night. Then I woke up to use the bathroom and saw you asleep and you weren’t in your jammies.”

You look down and groan, causing Eli giggles.

“I’m going to take a quick shower and I’ll be right back.” You do as you said but took some extra time to let the warm water relax your muscles a bit.

It was almost midnight and yet your son sat up on the couch waiting for you. There were two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with chips and two cups of milk waiting on the coffee table. The couch also had the sheets, pillows and blanket you used all set up for you.

“What is this?” You ask as you sit down and turn on the tv just to have something on in the background while you talk.

“I set up your bed because I know you’re tired. I didn’t have dinner and I know you didn’t either. You take care of me so I can take care of you too, ma.” He said before you could protest. “Also Mrs. Fields made something but it didn’t look good so I just said I was tired and that I’d eat later.”

“So you lied?” You ask while before taking a bite of the sandwich Elijah had made.

“I didn’t want to be mean and hurt her feelings.” He frowned as he thought of his action.

“It's ok baby, I understand why you did it but we’ll talk about that later. Now this is the best Pb and J I’ve ever had. Maybe you should make dinner more often.”

“Wait until you try my cheese sandwich.” He smiles.

“If you keep it up I’ll send you to one of these cooking shows for kids. They would love you.”

“Gordon Ramsey would lose his shit if he had my cheese sandwich.” He laughs when your jaw drops.

“Elijah!”

“What? You say it all the time.”

You glare at him playfully and he just laughs more. “That’s a good point, maybe you’d be better as a lawyer.”

“I don’t like arguing. It would probably get boring because I’m pretty sure I would be right all the time.”

“At least you’ll be humble.” You chuckle.

After you’ve finished eating Eli crawls onto your lap. Fortunately he still likes to be cuddled. You put on some show he likes and when his breathing has evened out you carry him to bed and tuck him in.

You clean up quickly and lay down on the slightly lumpy couch. It doesn’t take much to fall back asleep although your back will ache lightly the next morning like it always does.

“You have got to stop.” Coulson said as he walked into Steve’s office late on Friday night. “How many more times am I going to have to deal with the same issue? It’s been at least fifteen women this year alone and it’s barely June.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he was scolded yet again for the same reason. Still he kept his mouth shut as Coulson paced the length of his office.

“And I swear you better stay away from Y/N. She’s the best damn employee I have and if she leaves because of you I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“Ok tough guy why don’t you sit down before you fuck up my floor.”

“I’m serious Steve, I know that you want her because she’s giving you a run for your money but please back off. I need her here because she keeps to herself and she won’t run her mouth with what she sees. And I know she won’t run to the cops because she needs this job more than she needs more problems.”

Steve perks up at the last part of the of his statement.

“What problems does she have?”

Coulson closes his eyes as he realizes what he’s said. You had trusted him with the information about your son in hopes that if you had to leave suddenly it wouldn’t affect your employment. Of course you had asked that he wouldn’t say anything, especially to Steve or his friends because you were afraid they might use your son against you.

“Normal people have problems Steve. Mundane problems that you’ve probably haven’t had since you became the king of New York.”

“Wait a minute, if something is wrong though I want to help her. Me wanting to sleep with her had nothing to do with that. You know I want the people that work for me well taken care of. So what is it Phil?”

“I can’t say,” Coulson shakes his head. “She asked me not to say anything and I’ve fucked it up already. Just stop trying to sleep with her, Y/N really doesn’t need to be harassed every single time she comes in to work. She’s a good kid.”

Steve studies Coulson’s face, seeing how genuine he’s being with the request. He nods, accepting what he’s been told. But the moment the door is closed he picks up his office phone and makes a call.

“Hey Parker, are you busy?” He asks one of his younger associates.

“No, do you need me for something boss? I can be there in a few minutes.”

“You don’t need to come in but I have a job for you.”

“Anything sir.”

“I need you to follow Y/N and tell me if anything is going on with her. I think she might be in some trouble and I want to help.”

“Miss Y/N, boss?” Peter sounded unsure of the request.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No sir, it’s just… she’s really nice and I wouldn’t want her to not trust me if she finds out that I was following her.”

Steve wonders what exactly it is that you’re doing to have his men question their loyalty to him.

“Then don’t get caught.” With that Steve hangs up the phone.

Steve’s willing to do whatever it takes to figure out what’s going on with you. He doesn’t know when it happened but he can’t stop thinking about you. The side of him that he locked away long ago that believed in love and yearned for it is trying to claw its way out. You had done that, with your smart mouth and no bullshit attitude. He moved past wanting you in bed for a night to needing to know more but he was very good at shutting down whatever those emotions were.

Steve sat back in his chair, his mind racing and thinking of the worst case scenarios and how he would help you out of them. Maybe it was an abusive boyfriend. If that were the case it would be an easy fix. Just cut off his hands for even touching you.

The last thing on his mind is that you have a child. A sick child you’d do anything for. Neither of you are prepared for everything that would be coming your way. It would be harder still to realize you’d need each other if you want to survive.

Ch. 2

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#heart’s munition series #mob!steve rogers #mob boss!steve rogers x single mom!reader #single mom!reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader

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aalyssah · 1 year

Text

Kidnapped

I’m back and feeling better!

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Spoiled!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Gun and Killing. That’s really it.

Word Count: 1,871

Summary: You go shopping one day and get kidnapped by Roman’s enemies, but you warn them, that they made a grave mistake.

A/N: Requested by: @bloodripleygal Hope I met your expectations. Hope You Enjoy! (Btw sorry the end sucked, I just wanted to get this out and felt like I kept the requester waiting for too long.)

You were currently in you and your husbands, Roman's shared room. You were digging in the closet, trying to find something to wear, but nothing caught your attention. Yeah, you did just go shopping about 2 hours ago, but there's never enough clothes for you.

You we're what people called, a spoiled brat. When you didn't get what you wanted, you would cry, whine, hit, do anything in your power to get that thing. And 9 times out of 10 you would get it, and that's because of your husband

Roman Reigns.

He's the most fear man in the world and he will do anything for you. It might sound good being married to a mafia boss. You get expensive clothes, eat good food, get anything that hasn't even been released yet, there's just so many things, but there are bad things as well.

Such as, his enemies. He has rivalries against many people and if they want to get under his skin, they go afteryou instantly. There has been times where they tried attacking you, but nothing has worked because he makes sure to have high security on you at all times.

Sometimes, you wish you didn't need security guards everywhere. It made you feel like a child. You huffed as all the dresses in the closet we're on the floor. You walked out the room and grabbed your keys. "Charles go clean the room." You demanded the butler. He sped walked up to the room fast.

You also loved having the power when it come to demanding people. You got in your Black Rolls Royce and made your way to his office. He might be in a meeting, but who cares? You need new clothes.

You walked through the door and all eyes were on you. Everyone tracked your moves as your heels clicked on the tile floor. As you stood outside door, you could hear yelling from Roman. You smiled and opened the door. His eyes snapped to the door, ready to yell at whoever came in. "What are you-" He then saw you and softened his expression.

You walked over, behind him and rubbed his chest. "Hey, baby." You saw how all the clients looked confused at how a girl can make him calm down. "Hey love, why are you here?" He grabbed your wrist and pulled you in his lap. "Babe, worst thing ever! I don't have any clothes to wear!" Roman shook his head.

"Didn't you just go shopping, like 2 hours ago?" You nodded your head while pouting. "Please babe, everything in the closet is hideous!" You over exaggerated. "Ok, fine." He pulled out his card from his pocket in his suit. "Go shopping and buy whatever your little heart desires." You squealed and hugged him. "Thanks babe." You got up to leave, but you heard Roman.

"Solo, go with her." You let out a groan. "Ro, I don't need a bodyguard, just let me go on my own. Please?" You looked back. "No. You need someone to be with you, Solo." He motioned, but you weren't gonna give up. "Just this one time. Come on, babe I'll be quick, just give me 20 minutes and I'll call you."

Roman thought about it for a moment, if you called him, he would know that your safe. "Fine, but just this one time." You smiled and an over to him before jumping on his lap. "Thank you, thank you baby. I love you." He nodded his head before you left out.

You walked out the building with a huge smile on your face and got in your car, but little did you know, a man dressed in all black was standing behind a building, with binoculars, watching you. "She going now."

Who was this man?

——————————————————————————-

Pulling up at the store you wanted to go to, you exited out the car and walked in. You saw some jewelry and went over to it. You bought a couple of rings and brackets before walking to the lingerie. Roman has been wanting you to buy lingerie so you two can 'be in the moment'. You picked up a red lacey set before going to try them on.

A lady was standing by the changing room. "Excuse me, can I get a room?" The lady looked over at you and straightened her posture. "Y-yes ma'am."' You smirked at how scared she got. You entered the changing room and began taking off your clothes. You put it in and turned to the side in the mirror and noticed a figure under the light of the door.

You took a moment and started at it for a minute, but it went away. Maybe a person walking by? You thought. You wanted to get some pictures to send to Roman, but the lighting in the room was bad. You opened the door and took a picture in the mirror, but then everything went black?

You could hear somewhat of a muffled voice speaking. The mysterious man bend down and picked up your phone and sent the photo to Roman with the text. 'Like what you see.' He threw your phone on the floor, making it shatter into pieces before picking you up and dragging you in a car.

His phone ringed. "Yeah, I got her boss."

——————————————————————————

You woke up to your head pounding and a slight ring in your ears. You tried moving your body, but felt held back, looking around you found yourself in a chair, with ropes on your wrist and legs. You heard a door open and a black figure appeared in from to f you.

"Oh, your awake now." You couldn't tell who the person was, but they did sound familiar. "You made a huge mistake, kidnapping me!" You warned, but only got a low chuckle. "Are you sure about that? Y'know, this isn't the first time I've tried getting you." That one sentence gave away the person’s identity.

Your husband’s enemy, Brock Lesnar.

Brock has been going after Roman for a couple of months now and ever since Roman beat him last time, Brock hasn't been able to get over it. "Brock?" That's when the light turned on and he had a huge smile on his face. "Such a smart and pretty girl, now I see why Roman keeps you around." Was that supposed to be an insult?

You didn't care whatever that statement was supposed to be because all you knew is that it wouldn't be long until Roman came busting down the door with his guards. Yeah, you will get yelled at and probably will never be able to leave the house on your own again, but your not focused on that right now.

"Keep all the talk, but Roman will come for me and it will be over for you just like Summerslam." You could see the anger rise in him by the expression in his face. "You got a lot of mouth, you know?" You just smiled, making him even more mad. "Yeah, I wouldn't be married to a mafia boss, would I?" He scoffed before leaving the room.

Roman's POV

It's been way more than 20 minutes and I was just about to call quits and go to the store my damn self, but then I got a text. Pulling out my phone and quickly typing the password it was a text from Y/n with an image. I clicked on it and felt anger rose inside me.

It was a picture of Y/n in lingerie, but that wasn't, what caught my attention. It was the fact you could see a black figure about to hit her in the head with something.

If you connect two and two together: there is a figure in her photo, about to hit her and that now, she isn't answering her phone. Something bad has happened. I got up fast, ignoring all the confused murmurs, coming from the clients. "Come on boys, Y/n has been taken." The rest of the Bloodline got up fast, getting their guns and rushing out to the car.

Normal POV

You sat in the chair, humming a song you were listening too in the car. "Shut up, will you!" Brock yelled. "What's the matter, Brock? I'm not doing anything wrong." You flashed doe eyes at him and started laughing. "Your laughing like this is funny, but when I get up out this chair I-" He was cut off by the sound of yelling and shooting.

"He's here." You singsonged with a smile. Brock grit his teeth. "You better not make a sound!" He rushed over to the corner and pulled out a gun. He walked back over and untied you before wrapping his arm around your throat. "Y/n! Y/n! Where are you?!" You could hear Roman yelling for you, and as much as you wanted to yell out, Brock was trying to choke you to death.

"R-r-o!" You squirmed around, trying to get out of Brock’s hold, but nothing worked. “What did I say!” Brock said, gritting through his teeth. He was a little scared because last time Roman didn’t let him off so easily so imagine how he’ll be now. You kicked him in the balls and ran to the door.

“Roman! I’m in here!” You banged on the door and tried opening it, but it must’ve of been locked from the outside. “I’ve gave you many chances, but now I’m done being nice.” Brock walked over to you and snatched you back, making you land on the floor with a groan. He walked over and cocked his gun.

“Let’s see what Roman will have to say when he finds your dead body.” You squeezed your eyes shut, tightly. ‘This is it’ you thought. If you listened to Roman you wouldn’t be in this situation. All of a sudden a gun shot erupted around the room, following a loud thud.

It couldn’t be you because you could hear your loud, heavy breathing. “Y/n!” Roman dropped his gun and rushed over to you. You just sat there in shock as Roman help you, asking you if you were ok. The rest of the Bloodline came in, checking the surroundings. You were close, close from dying all because you wanted to be independent and didn’t want to feel like a child.

“Your never getting out my sight again.” Roman promised, with his grip getting tighter. The boys went over to clean the body up, but Roman stopped him. “No, no, we’re gonna take the body to his wife so she can see what he did to himself.” It sounded cold, from what Roman was saying, but you knew he didn’t care.

He didn’t care about the victims families because he only killed the person for a reason and Brock deserved it more than anyone Roman has faced.

You two went home after a long care ride of Roman holding you and telling you how much he loved you and how he wouldn’t know what to do if he hadn’t found you in time. You also can’t forget the scolding he did.

Truth be told, you’re never going anywhere without a bodyguard. You learned your lesson.

#roman reigns #roman reigns angst #roman reigns fluff #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfiction #mob!roman reigns #wwe roman reigns #wwe x reader

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Photo

Title: New Hire [3]

previous chapter

Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader

Summary: After escaping your demanding, violent father, you get your first job nannying for Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Manipulation, Obsessive behavior, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Dubcon, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat

A/N: 👀 i know we’ve all been kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop with Ari and Kitten, so here we go! i’m working two jobs now, so i don’t have a lot of spare time left over to write—as a result, i kind of went waaaaaaay overboard with this chapter. i split it into two, just for ease of reading, so i really hope y’all enjoy! floral divider by @firefly-graphics

This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘

“I’m not leaving till I see my daughter!” You can hear your father’s raised voice clearly, like he’s yelling at you from inside the car rather than the driveway. Ari’s stern hand on his shoulder seems to make him even angrier.

“So what, you got her locked up here like your own little toy, and what? No fuckin’ ring on her finger, I’ll bet,” he sneers, and it’s like you’re seventeen again. Seventeen again and listening to him tell you you’re used and ruined because you’d let the Baker boy come sniffing after you—

“Liam we’re going to go inside.” You hate the way your voice shakes, the way your stomach clenches with old fear. As you turn around, you try to swallow down the panic so that Liam doesn’t see it on your face. “And we’re not going to look at, or talk to the man outside, okay?” You repeat it like you heard it from your therapist when you’d first left your father. Don’t engage. You don’t owe him anything. You are your own person.

You are free.

“I don’t like that man.” Liam says quietly from the back seat as you unbuckle him. “He’s scary.”

“Yes,” you agree, glancing at the man in question over your shoulder. “He is.” Liam clamors over the middle console and into your arms. You don’t want to stay in the car, listening to him shout. You take a deep breath, gathering what little courage you feel, and pull on the door handle. Immediately, his cursing fills your ears while you cover Liam’s with your hands, steering him quickly towards the stairs.

“Oh, there she is,” he snarls. “I taught you better than that, you little bitch! Abandoning your responsibilities to this family, all so you can sit on some Alpha’s fucking knot—”

“Enough!” Ari’s voice is like a clap of thunder. His huge hands are knotted threateningly in your father’s shirt. “You come here like this, you fucking threaten my mate—” He bares his teeth angrily. “How’d you even fucking get in here, you slimy piece of shit?”

“I’m here because Peter-fucking-Quill sent me,” he spits, and your chest goes even tighter at the name. “On account of you fucking his mate.”

“What?” It’s your voice that acts as a knife through the tension, and both men turn to you. You know Peter Quill—or, well, you knew him. Before things had gone bad at home, turned sour like milk left out to spoil, and you’d had to switch schools—because your fancy Catholic school was too much money—you’d played with Quill. He was only a year or two older than you, but he was always… kind, for lack of a better word.

You never thought you’d hear that name again.

“Then he needs to come himself.” Ari’s voice is low, barely above a growl. His shoulders are stiff and squared, his knees slightly bent like he’s ready to soak a blow. “Because as far as I’m concerned, it’s my mark on her neck.” Ari shoves your father, and he stumbles back a few steps. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot messengers. But it is fucking tempting.” Trembling, you begin to lead Liam up the stairs.

“You tell Quill he’d better send someone more fucking qualified next time.” You hurry inside, one of Ari’s men holding the door open for you as they usher you inside. Faintly, you can hear Ari, his orders mixed in with frustrated swears.

“King, you mind telling me what the fuck you were thinking, letting him get past the goddamn gate?”

You’ve never seen this many people in the house before, men in black, guns bulging under their clothing. The man Ari called King’s gaze flicks around nervously before settling on you. Ari sees it too, and almost immediately, his hostile posture softens.

“Kitten, why don’t you take Liam upstairs?” He turns to you with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be up in a little bit, I know that was… scary.”

“I…” You have questions—so many questions. “But Ari, he—”

“Upstairs, Kitten. Now.” His voice brokers no room for argument, bordering on an Alpha command that your body jumps to follow. You spare one last look for the strangely crowded kitchen, and then take Liam’s hand and lead him up the staircase to the second floor. You put out a few of his favorite coloring books and games to distract him while you go change your clothes.

Your feet begin marching in the direction of your old room, and it’s only when your hand rests on the brassy doorknob that you remember it isn’t your room anymore. You stand there in front of the door, your hand hovering over the knob. So much has changed in the past three months, and you wonder if they’ll ever stop changing. It’s like you’re at the center of a whirlwind, and each time you get your bearings, you’re whipped about by the storm until you’re just as lost and confused as ever.

Three months ago, leaving your father’s house had been the hardest, most confusing thing you’d ever had to do, but you had done it, and you had done it by yourself. You’d navigated the help wanted sections of every newspaper, typed out your resumé on the ancient library computers, all for your father to find you again.

It’s okay to start over, that’s what Dr. Nicholson says. It’s okay to do things over until you get them right. You wonder what she’ll think of these new developments as you force yourself to turn around and head down to the other end of the hallway, towards Ari’s room—your room. You’d missed last week’s therapy session—it isn’t like you could show up with Ari still knotted inside you. The thought makes your face heat hotter than a stove-top, and you bite your lip against the embarrassment.

You’re due for another session in a few days, and you’re actually looking forward to it, to being able to decompress and just talk without fear of reprisal. As you shrug out of the sundress, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Though you try not to, it’s impossible not to see the neat ring of teeth marks sunk permanently into your flesh.

Ari is proud of how clean his bite is, you know it—you can feel it through the bond when his teeth slide home like keys into a well fitting lock. You remember running your fingers over your mother’s own mating mark as a child, the flesh knotted and bumpy to the touch, like your father had torn into her like an animal. A shiver runs down your spine as you recall his words—

Peter-fucking-Quill sent me. On account of you fucking his mate.

You weren’t mated before Ari—the smooth, unbroken skin above your mating gland had told that truth far better than your mouth ever could. So what had he meant by that? How could you be Peter’s if you were already Ari’s?

Your body is still singing with tension and unresolved anxiety, winding you tight like a spring as you search through Ari’s cavernous closet for something to wear. The possessions you do have feel meagre in comparison, like you’re a pauper dressing up as a prince. You emerge from the closet wearing shorts and a button up shirt—one of Ari’s—tucked into the waistband.

When you poke your head into his room, you’re pleased to find that Liam has only made a moderate mess, having somehow managed to get into the finger paints that you keep having to hide in increasingly difficult to reach locations. He looks up at you with a wide, gap toothed grin, and holds his masterpiece up for you to see. His little hands are stained green, and you expect they probably will be for the next four to six business days, but your heart still melts as he brandishes his paper proudly.

“Look, I painted everybody,” he replies, bouncing excitedly on his toes. He peeks over the top of the paper, and then back up at you. “This is daddy—he’s going to work, that’s why he has his suit on. And then, then there’s me, and right here is you!” He taps the paper again, for emphasis. You giggle, taking the paper gingerly.

“Wow, Li, this is amazing! Is that my dress?” You ask, looking down at him as he puffs his chest out with pride. “This is so good! You know, I bet dad is going to want to hang this up somewhere,” you say conspiratorially, and he laughs, before his face falls a little.

“What if he doesn’t see it?” He kicks at the rug. “Dad’s always working.” You can almost hear the sound of your heart cracking open at Liam’s innocent admission.

“You know what, let’s go put this on the big mirror in the bedroom. That way he’ll be sure to see it, okay?” You hold Liam’s hand as he leads you down the hallway, and the two of you hunt for scotch tape to hang his painting as you strain to hear what’s going on downstairs. It’s useless, the walls are too thick and well soundproofed for anything but the barest murmur of conversation to make it through.

As you’re finishing up taping Liam’s drawing, a shudder runs through you, your hairs standing on end. Alpha is looking for me. You don’t know how you know it, but you do, like feeling eyes on your turned back.

“Dad!” Liam’s exclamation has you turning to face the large figure in the doorway. Ari doesn’t stop him as Liam goes crashing into his legs, and he scoops up his giggling son, ruffling his hair. “I drawed something for you.” You move out of the way, stepping aside as Ari sizes up Liam’s masterpiece.

“Li, you know we’ve got to frame this, right? You’re just a regular Picasso.” It’s like you’re watching Liam’s confidence grow in real time, a pleased expression gracing his little features, though you doubt he actually knows who Picasso is. “Is this what you guys were doing while I was working?”

Working. You still don’t really know what Ari even does, though you don’t doubt that he’s important. All the men downstairs, Ari’s fierce demeanor… the answer plays at the edge of your consciousness, but you don’t grasp for it, too afraid that you might be right. As Ari chats with Liam, you excuse yourself, wandering down to the kitchen to get some water. It’s like no one was ever there, and if you hadn’t had to drag Liam through a veritable sea of men in tac gear, you might have thought you’d imagined it.

You can’t help but peek out of the front door, just to make sure your father is really gone, that he isn’t just lying in wait outside to ambush you again.

“Thought I would see what was taking so long, Kitten. You know Liam won’t start the movie without you,” Ari rumbles, his breath ghosting across the shell of your ear. You whirl around, almost dropping your glass.

“Ari, I… I just wanted to see,” you admit. “If he was gone.”

Ari’s lip curls, his eyes narrowing. “He’s gone. I made sure of it.” He pulls you against his chest, burying his nose in your curls with a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry.” The apology falls timidly from your lips before you can stop it. It’s a force of habit more than anything, the desire to placate before it becomes a problem. “I… I don’t know how he found me, I-I did all of the things Dr. Nicholson told me to, I—” Ari cups your chin.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.” His calloused fingers are gentle on your face. “You did the right things. It’s not your fault.” Your fingers tangle in his shirt as Ari rubs soothing circles on your back. “He found you because he went to Quill, baby.”

“Quill?” You dredge up the image of him young and roundfaced from your memory. It’s easy to tell Ari is… reluctant to continue this line of conversation. You can feel his discomfort prickling in the back of your skull through the bond, but more than that you can see it written plainly on his face.

“I’m not sure how you know him,” Ari says lowly, “but Peter is a… business associate of mine. Was.” He runs a hand through his hair. “How do you think your father got that nice new house on the good part of the island? How he got those debtors to stop calling? He went to Peter, Kitten. And he made a deal.”

Your head is spinning. The answer is right there, but for some reason, you refuse it.

“A deal?” You repeat the words dumbly.

“For you, Kitten. He promised Quill you.”

—

You’re restless that night, tossing and turning until Ari pins you underneath him with a stern, sleepy grunt. He can’t stop your mind from spinning though, and you don’t sleep until the sky outside begins to turn pink.

Your father had sold you—like cattle. Traded you when you’d become useless to him.

What kind of parent does that?

Your dreams offer no answers, only more questions. When had he offered you up like cattle? And what kind of man accepted a person as fair trade? You know your father has never been good with money—even before your mother died. Your chest goes painfully tight at the thought of her. You wish your mother was here, now more than ever. You can’t help but wonder what she would make of all of this, if she would approve.

In the morning when Liam wakes the two of you up with far too much pep, you’ve only managed to struggle through a few hours of sleep. He chatters excitedly about his dreams and you do your best to listen, nodding eagerly as he describes the superpowers he’d used to save the universe. Ari rolls over onto his side, and you don’t miss the way his eyes rest heavily on you, his full lips pulled into an easy, satisfied smile.

He scampers off to pack his backpack for the day—one of his favorite activities, even over summer break. Ari’s hand settles on your thigh, warm through the thin sleeping shorts you wore to bed.

“You didn’t sleep well last night, Kitten.” It’s an observation, a statement of fact. Embarrassed that he remembers your sleepy grumbling, you duck your head, nodding.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you awake,” you tuck an errant curl back behind your ear. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about everything.” Your stomach churns again as you recall your father shouting at you from the steps outside, his eyes bright and frantic. I hate him.

You hadn’t ever actually thought it consciously before, how much you despise the alcohol soaked man who’d showed up to shame you only yesterday. I hate him.

It feels like his arrival has started something, put things in to motion that you can’t see, things you don’t understand. But Ari does. You can practically feel him gearing up for something, something big—readying himself. Ari’s beard rasps against your cheek as he leans in to kiss your temple.

“He won’t be back.” He says it with such conviction it’s hard for you not to consider it an absolute truth. There’s an unspoken threat that sends a shiver down your spine, one that speaks to the roughness that lurks just underneath the placid, casual mask that Ari wears all the time. You’ve already seen it slip a few times—at the amusement park, with your father. It makes you wonder what he’s really capable of.

You can tell he wants to say more, that the conversation isn’t quite done yet, but the shrill ringing of Ari’s phone cuts through the moment like a sharp knife. He reaches for it, irritation written in the downturned corners of his mouth and narrowed eyes. He gives you one last, distracted kiss before sitting up, the sheets pooling at his waist.

“Yes?” You can’t hear the person on the other end of the line, not clearly, but you can tell they sound upset—frantic, almost. “Slow down, Drysdale. I said slow the fuck down,” Ari growls into the receiver, dragging a hand down his face. “Quill sent what to Fowler?” You still at the mention of Peter, but Ari taps your ass sharply with the palm of his hand, and you squeak.

“Business,” he mouths at you. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”

Though you aren’t pleased about being effectively dismissed, you scoot off of the edge of the massive bed and pad towards the shower. Liam is downstairs, and you walk into the living room just as his improvised karate routine is finishing up.

“Look how high I can kick!” He says loudly, lifting his leg up the way you know they’d taught him in his karate class.

“Liam no!” You’re too late, his little foot intersecting with one of the framed photos on the coffee table. You wince at the sound of breaking glass before rushing over and sweeping the errant six year old off of his feet to check for cuts. Sheepishly, Liam clings to you, embarrassed tears leaking down his little cheeks.

“No cuts, right bud?” You ask as you turn his hands and feet back and forth, squinting as you look for shards of glass. “Nothing hurts?”

“N-no, but…” he trails off, pointing at the shattered frame. It’s a nice picture, Liam up on Ari’s broad shoulders as the two of them grin widely at the camera. You’d taken that picture—at Liam’s birthday, just a few months before. “I broke it.”

“Yes, you did, but what’s more important is that you’re okay,” you say, wiping the errant tears from his chubby cheeks with your thumbs. “Dad can always get a new picture frame.” Your humor doesn’t deter him, however, and Liam looks at the stairs nervously. You place Liam carefully on the couch as you sprint into the kitchen to grab the broom and dustpan.

“He’s gonna be mad at me,” Liam sniffles, rubbing at his red rimmed eyes as you clean up the mess.

“That’s not true, pal. Dad’s not going to be mad—”

“He is!” Liam insists. “That’s his most favoritest picture in the house, he said so!” He’s getting worked up now, his cheeks splotchy and red as he becomes more and more upset. Frustrated tears begin leaking from his eyes again, and you feel your chest go tight.

“Liam, I promise dad isn’t going to be mad,” you say placatingly, setting down the broom to rub his back as he sniffles. “Would it make you feel better if we got another one?” The mall isn’t far away, certainly close enough for the two of you to pop over and be back before Ari even notices you’re gone. “We can go get him a new one so he won’t feel sad, okay?”

This seems to be an acceptable compromise to Liam, who nods tearfully. “Okay.”

Of the several cars sitting in the garage below the house, you select an unassuming black Wrangler, making sure to buckle Liam into his seat before climbing into yours. It starts up easily, and you shoot a quick text to Ari—one you’re sure he won’t even see before you’re back—before taking off. Liam is singing some kind of made up song to himself as you pull out into the wealthy suburb that Liam and Ari—and now you—call home.

The mall parking lot is as crowded as it usually is, and you hold Liam’s hand tightly as you navigate between the cars. Still, he tugs on your hand impatiently, eager to get inside. He hasn’t been on a real outing since the amusement park—your face burns hot at the memory—and it shows, with Liam bouncing excitedly on his toes as he drags you into the mall. You make him wait as you squint at the map, looking for the bright red You are here!, labeled at the bottom entrance.

“It looks like there’s a nice frame shop this way, Li. We can go pick out something cool for dad.”

“Okay!”

Though the frame shop is distinctly not an environment for six-year-olds, Liam handles it like a champ, using his “inside” voice the way you’d taught him, and handling the delicate glass with care when he dares to pick something up. Like his father, he seems to be rather choosy, squinting at several picture frames before dismissing them.

“What about this one? This one’s cool.”

“That’s not cool,” Liam says decisively, turning his nose up at the one you hold in your hands. You stifle your own laughter as you imagine what Liam thinks cool is. I don’t think they have any frames with Spider-Man on them. “This one, this one!” He holds up the gilded gold frame excitedly, standing on his tippy-toes to show it to you. “I like this one.”

“I like this one too, Li,” you take it from him gingerly, holding it up to the light. It really is pretty, something you could see sitting in the spot the other picture had occupied. “Lets take it up to the register.” As you wait in line, Liam begins shuffling his feet, darting out to grab things from baskets near the register before putting them back. You’re honestly amazed Liam’s attention span has lasted this long, and you don’t fault him for his boredom. So when he pulls on your arm and points to the ice-cream booth just outside the store, you nod.

He’s just right there. I can see him.

You turn back to the line, playing anxiously with the heavy black card Ari had given you the day before. You haven’t used it yet, but then again, you haven’t needed to. You glance over your shoulder as the person in front of you finishes up. You can see Liam’s little blond head as he bounces excitedly, waiting his turn in line.

“Is this all today?”

“Y-yes, that’s it, thanks.” You turn back around embarrassedly, placing the card on the counter with a sharp click. The older woman behind the register runs it before handing it back, and you watch her begin to wrap the frame in newspaper.

“Your son is adorable, you know, so cute,” she says, and your cheeks warm. You’re not sure how to respond, how to parse out the complex nature of your relationships in a way that is easy to understand—mostly because you don’t understand it yourself. In the span of a week you’ve gone from nanny to step-mother, from employee to mate, and the transition still has you reeling.

“Yes, he is.” You manage a weak smile as you turn to scan the crowd for him again, looking for the soft, wavy blond curls that denote his presence by the ice-cream stand.

But you don’t see him.

The panic that seizes you is immediate as you turn fully, eyes wide as you search the crowd again and again—but come up empty. The cashier’s voice is nothing but a dull drone in your ear as you push through the people behind you.

“Liam? Liam!” There are people stopping to look now, their attention only adding to your distress. He was right here, I just saw him, he was right here—You feel terrified tears beginning to gather in your eyes as you call for him. “Did you see a little boy? Blond, blue eyes, he’s missing his front tooth?” The man behind the counter looks at you helplessly.

“I, I mean I think so, I’m sorry, it’s just so busy—!” You try to calm yourself, wiping at your eyes as you continue looking, your purchase at the frame shop completely and utterly forgotten. It’s only been a few minutes, but it feels like you’ve been looking for hours, wringing your hands as you jog through the mall.

Something gold catches your eye, and you turn towards the main doors. There’s a man in black, all black, his clothes bulky and ill fitting—reminiscent of the way Ari’s men had looked yesterday. The outline of the bullet-proof vest under his shirt is clearly visible, as is the large hand wrapped around Liam’s tiny forearm.

“Liam!” You’re barreling towards him before your body even has a moment to register that you’re moving, and you slam into the man’s back with your shoulder. He lets out a surprised, pained shout as Liam sobs your name. “Let go! Let him fucking go!” You’ve never fought anyone in your life, but you feel grim satisfaction as you rake your nails down the man’s face and smell the coppery tinge of his blood under your fingernails. It’s his surprise that allows you keep hitting him, raining blows down all over his face and chest as he tries to shield himself from you, cursing.

“Get off me! Fucking crazy bitch—” He shoves you off with a snarl, and you scramble over to Liam, panting as you put yourself in the way, shielding his smaller body with your own. Adrenaline has you on a tightrope, unable to move or blink as you watch the man get to his feet. The world around you rushes back in to your ringing ears—there’s someone saying to call the police, another group of people attempting to block the exit, to hold the man here—but you can’t process any of that.

You turn to Liam tearfully, running your hands through his hair and over his face. He presses into your chest, his little arms going around your shoulders as he sobs uncontrollably, snot and tears running into your hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you murmur as you rock him back and forth, your eyes still wide as you stare unseeingly past him. The relief is almost as big as the fear, and with both of them swirling inside of you, it’s impossible to calm down.

“I-I-It-w-was s-s-so s-s-scary,” Liam’s words are barely discernible through his tears. There are people talking to you—at you, really—but you don’t have the bandwidth to respond, only clutching Liam tighter when anyone approaches, like a feral animal. All you can focus on is Liam, keeping him pressed to your chest as you try to analyze every possible new threat.

Keep away, your hindbrain snarls, and you feel your own lip curl to mirror it. Baby’s not safe, not safe! You’re dimly aware of mall security attempting to detain the man who’d grabbed Liam, the sound of sirens—

“Kitten.” And then there’s Ari, kneeling in front of you as he cups your chin, strokes your hair; checking you over in much the same way you’d done Liam only minutes before. “Kitten can you hear me?” You nod numbly, still holding tight to Liam as Ari tries to pry your fingers loose. “Good, baby. You did so good, protecting our boy.” His hands are gentle as he helps you stand up. You can’t explain the rush of warmth that fills you as you inhale his scent, the deep sense of comfort that washes over you as you begin to process his nearness.

Alpha is here.

Safe.

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gnashingwailing · 13 days

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@fireflywritesgt LOVINGLY WRITING MY UNHINGED CH23 THOUGHTS AND THEN BURYING THEM UNDER A READMORE. I felt such overwhelming hype when I saw we got 2 chapters in 1 day I truly was ready to throw my phone out the fucking window. TOO MUCH JOY FOR ONE LITTLE GNASH... I hadn't even finished processing ch21......

first off pov Joe when he goes to Calloway's to pick up his cute new tailored fit in 3 days

soooo right from the jump. hey.

"“…’cause he’s way better off than I am, it’ll make it harder for me to leave him or something. That he’s luring me in. I mean—” Joe laughed nervously as he steeled himself in preparation for how the captain would react to his next statement “—if it were a giant treating me the way he treats me, everyone would call me a pet.”

“Well of course they would, Joe. That’s because giants are evil.” The captain said matter-of-factly.

He may as well have poked Joe squarely in the eye. Nonetheless, the bartender continued."

hey. UM. Joe you beautiful idiot who canonically has bad luck and, presumably from reading this very chapter, a terrible poker face. Maybe you should have said. Any Other Thing? GODDD in my heart he's definitely sooo overconfident and drunk like wow I am so smooth :) nobody suspects a thing :) while Calloway is having a conversation with him like uh... just saying, but you know, none of us could stop you from. for example. idk. becoming a giant's pet. we wouldn't like that but it's just a random thing that came to mind just now, unrelated to the really tall really wealthy really powerful guy who is afraid of taking advantage of you by luring you in and giving you things like a giant would and maybe isn't treating you like a person. And you're afraid you shouldn't want it. Like BRO IT IS SO OVER FOR YOU even without Harry literally calling Joe's name 3+ times in the dead silence 😭😭😭😭 And presumably Harry having been waiting around there for a while to see Joe! Loitering in a way we know tinies are on guard about since they all noticed that snatcher back in Ch13!

They're idiots ur honor, so true, but it's all worth it to see Joe get rescued and swoon like a damsel ... I definitely wonder if Calloway observed any of that, and what he might think about it if so. >:) May or may not have been daydreaming and writing bits about how horrifying it would be to give your surrogate kid all this well-meaning advice, see him nearly slip to his death, and while you're hurrying down to try and help him, watching him call out to a walking nightmare for help and then get whisked away by it

I have a pet theory that everything we've seen from Calloway so far has been pretty heavily colored by it being from Joe's perspective when he's having a bad day, and maybe he will be more understanding than we think? Objectively, I didn't think he was being very rude or anything back in Ch 13, when he was speculating on Joe's love life. It rankled Joe, which is understandable, but he 1) he's happy that Joe looks good, 2) he doesn't let Gutters or O'Grady rag on Joe too hard and 3) he just generally seems like an interested father figure would about his kid's love life:

"“Oh, lay off him, Tim. It’s a good borrowing year!” Captain Calloway cut in. “We all have ‘em, we all enjoy ‘em, we all cry ourselves to sleep when they’re over.”

Relief washed over Joe like the warm water in Harry’s sink.

“Though I gotta say…” The captain gave a wry smile as he continued. “…it could just as easily be someone else’s good borrowing year if ya’ catch my drift. Could be he’s got a little sweetheart looking after him. A brick of pure chocolate? That’s practically a dowry."”

Although I may be wrong here, since Ch 21's incident at Tiny Town with the Italian mob that saved him gives us the insight that "[for] the first time in Joe’s entire existence at that, Joe understood what it was like to have a real father." So maybe Calloway is not that nurturing to Joe and not much of a caring dad -- as @remordsposthume's tags so wisely point out:

WTF WAS HE DOING LETTING HIM LEAVE THE BAR LMAO. Calloway's Den of Drunkards confirmed for an "everybody drive home drunk. it's not my problem" bar??? Everyone is processing TAoLaW thru their own cultural lens and. in that spirit. lmfao. I must say. Calloway reminds me of the libertarian redneck dads I've known who just let their kids do whatever. If he was a giant I think he'd let his kids ride ATVs thru the woods drunk. Most probably he would also be ridin around drunk with them. "If you die it's your own damn fault" being his motto is too on the nose LOL. Huge farm dad "I LOVE MY SONS. ONLY HALF OF THEM WILL SURVIVE TO ADULTHOOD BUT I DO LOVE THEM" energy. To Me.

(Btw Harry & Joe processing their parental issues together WHEN <3)

BUT ANYWAY YEAH EVEN IF CALLOWAY WAS THE MOST UNOBSERVANT GUY IN THE WORLD RE: THAT SUSPICIOUS CONVERSATION? YOU WERE LITERALLY BOTH SCREAMING EACH OTHERS' NAMES LIKE LOVESICK ROMANCE PROTAGONISTS RIGHT UNDER THE DREDGE THAT'S STILL PROBABLY GOT AT LEAST SOME NIGHT MARKET CUSTOMERS? HELLO?? @94444 we are on the same wavelength rn

AND MORE ABOUT CALLOWAY... I am very heartened by how you mentioned once, Warren, that you planned to give each character real depth and treat them with sincerity. I feel very interested about when that time will be for Calloway! We know that he takes in kids (or at least O'Grady and Joe scratch that. tag lore be upon me) and teaches them how to sell trinkets. We know that he hates giants. We know he's been horribly injured in a way that led to him losing a hand, an eye, and possibly teeth. Knowing what we do about the risks of being a borrower, and how casually cruel giants are to them, it's not unlikely those last 2 things are related. I'M TAKING YOUR TAGS AND RUNNING AWAY WITH THEM LIKE A DOG W SOMETHING IN ITS MOUTH.

So Calloway knew them for several years as vulnerable kids... then lost them for a year or so... then got them back after they escaped the watchmaker's? I will be interested to see if that trauma means he's more protective of them, or uh, still more drunk libertarian dad about them. Lmao. He seemed like he cared about Joe getting into Tiny Town way back in Ch3 tho at least! (as an aside... interested in who Gutters is, too. He SEEMS to be older than Joe/Tim, but he could also still be a Calloway Kid himself... he seems to defer to Calloway... and/or he could just be some guy embittered about giant/tiny relations. which. fair, brother.)

If the broader Tiny Town culture (such as it is... would word get around about this incident with Joe and Harry, or does news just not travel that well amongst lots of secluded borrower communities? much to consider. it makes sense in a dark way why you would physically mark somebody who's transgressed against society's cardinal rule, in a culture where you cannot generally spread information effectively) would reject Joe for his proclivities... will Calloway, too? Or is it Joe's anxiety making him think that? I'm afraid we already know how Tim would feel. Other than him, Calloway is the person who Joe seems most connected to in miniature society... Although Harry's worry about Joe not spending enough time around his fellow miniatures in Ch22 is at least partially motivated by his own guilt-trip, I think he has a bit of a point! I hope Joe doesn't lose touch with everyone -- or if he does, I hope there will be new friends out there for him, too, who are more understanding.

(LORRAINE WHEN)

Now Calloway aside, OBVIOUSLY THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER HAD ME HOOTIN AND HOLLERIN.

“Joe… can we go back to the big, sexy giant part for a second?” <- LIT'RALLY me rereading this chapter 800 times

A snapping turtle is a fantastic little horror for poor Joe to face, woof. Those fuckers are scary enough when ur height is measured in feet. The quick way they snap is no joke. Just want to 👏👏👏👏 about how good this passage is: The turtle’s maw emerged from the waters of the lake like the gaping mouth of some ancient monster that fed on the souls of sailors. The grimy lakewater rushed over its beady little eyes as its beak, sharp as a dagger, flew towards Joe faster than a gunshot. YEAH.

It just!! makes my little heart sooooo happy to see that Joe does have someone who will unconditionally look out for him...!!! Harry has his issues, and they're still learning how to open up about themselves, but he consistently shows up!! :') the thought of him waiting for his man all night ... hoping the dredge would be the place Joe meant ... and then acting sooo fast when he saw a tiny guy fall off of it... what a faithful hound of a [future] boyfriend. Calloway is so right. Joe deserves somebody to look after him. And Joe has done the (forgive me for the loaded meme) girl math on this. One big man is the best possible outcome for him. ONLY THE BIGGEST MAN WILL DO to keep him off of his bullshit as much as possible 👍👍

And OF COURSE god their conversation is just so so so fucking funny. "Thank you" "fuck no I'm not" -> "FUCK YOU" is INCREDIBLE i CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT lmaooooo and Harry still being so gentle about receiving this insult and trying to parse what Joe means ... he does listen to Joe, they're definitely not back to square one as drunk!Joe feared, his own issues are just getting in the way! (And Joe's are getting in the way of him seeing thru Harry's facade into what the real issue is! We love to see it!)

"“I meant that. You don’t get to call me handsome until you start listening to me.” He slurred. “You gotta—you gotta want it.”

Joe crossed his arms and scowled up at the beautiful man and his beautiful face as Harry tried to parse what Joe was saying.

“Want it…?” Harry echoed.

“Yeah. You gotta want to be my friend. And screw what anyone else thinks!”"

And did anyone else cackle at how Joe telephone-gamed Calloway's advice to still be in plausible-deniability-land. "You gotta want to be my friend" ok. not what he fuckin said. run that back real quick -> "Not if you’re being open about what you want and everything. That’s how love works, Joe. You gotta want it."

I just adored the moments of insight between them, too. "... Joe knew his real answer was yes – he was just too afraid to say it overtly. He argued and fought and begrudgingly accepted it instead. / What was that saying to Harry?" vs. Ch22 Harry's revelation: "How much of his relationship with Joe was genuine, he wondered, and how much of it was Joe going along with Harry’s suggestions in the name of diplomacy?"

Joe IS acting like somebody who's being coerced! Harry IS being a trustworthy guy by noticing it and checking in once their relationship is definitely turning intimate! It's so fascinating to think in hindsight that every time Joe turned red and embarrassed, Harry was having a thought at the back of his mind like "he doesn't want this. I'm scaring him. He doesn't want me, and he doesn't even know the real me yet. And worse, he can't tell me, because he's afraid of what I might do to him." But he can't SAY all that because it would hurt too much if he said it and Joe confirmed he was actually correct, so Ch22 comes out as a trainwreck where he's accidentally insulting Joe's ability to survive without him. (Side note I KNEW Harry wasn't REALLY considering Joe his landlord. Sad!!! That fucked up scrawny starving guy has squatter's rights and he was doing pretty good all things considered maybe !!!)

The respective issues ~Society~ has given both of them just make it impossible to talk about the root of their problems without baring your guts in a really terrifying way. OOF.

HOWEVER this chapter confirming that homophobia isn't such a problem in tiny society is going to make this eventual conversation betwen them real interesting... Harry like "You don't understand Joe :( there's something really wrong with me... ... I like ... men..." and Joe being like "omg :) :) :) :) :) wait what's wrong with you tho" and then Joe "No you don't understand Harry :( I know this is sick but... I like.. giants... I'm sure you could never see someone smaller than you as anything other than a pet ..." and Harry just ":) :) :) :) oh what no :) Georgie was shorter than me" I hope they can have a good, baffled laugh at how long they could've been snuggling guilt-free. At the end of the angst. <3

#taolaw

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megalony · 11 months

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Soft Spot

This is a new Dark/ Mob Chris Evans series I am hoping to be working on I hope you will all enjoy it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps

Masterlist

Summary: Chris has his hands full with his club, his boys and his wife who he dotes on. Things get harder when (Y/n)’s pregnant but she’s barely gotten over losing their little girl.

Enjoy.

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Tiptoeing across the landing, the eldest boy crept around the squeaky floorboards and moved over towards the bathroom. He knew the rules of the house like the back of his hand and one of them was that if either of his parents were in the bathroom, he had to knock. He couldn't just barge in there like he had done on some occasions in the past. But the bathroom door was ever so slightly open, just a crack.

That little crack let Ronan sneak a small glimpse of the bathroom so he pressed his head against the doorframe and peeked inside. He was nosey by nature, he couldn't help it but there was just something so fascinating about watching his dad prepare for work.

He could see Chris clearly through the small opening in the door. His dad was stood in front of the bathroom sink, water dripping from his face and hands and a few droplets were falling from his hair. For a moment, he thought his dad might be shaving but when he watched him, he was just having a wash. Ronan couldn't remember the last time his dad had shaved. His mum liked the beard so much Chris never shaved it off anymore.

From this angle, Ronan could see the slick black and silver hand-gun tucked into the waistband of his trousers against his back. His dad never went anywhere without it.

Chris shook his hands over the sink before he grabbed the towel and dried himself off. Reaching at the back of the sink, he grabbed his watch and silver wrist chain and slipped them over his bruised, scabbing knuckles, passed the various rings cladding his fingers.

He took one last look in the mirror and raked his fingers through his hair, brushing the brown locks back on his head before he reached across for his plain black shirt. He never wore white to work. Blood never came out of a white shirt like it did a black or navy blue one.

"What's up bud?"

Ronan jolted against the door and smacked his forehead against it in shock. How did his dad know he was watching him? He had been so quiet, he didn't make a sound and he didn't move the door and his dad didn't even look his way once. Rubbing at his forehead, Ronan sheepishly pushed the door open and looked up at his dad who now had his hands on his hips and his shirt hanging off his shoulders, noen of the buttons done up yet.

"I- um, mum's been sick, she asked for you." Ronan rubbed his hands together behind his back and looked away when he noticed Chris' expression change.

He'd heard how the people who worked for his dad spoke about him at the gym. Some of them would whisper that he was ruthless, some said he had a cruel streak which confused Ronan greatly. But everyone said that (Y/n) was his soft spot. Ronan couldn't count the times he'd heard people say how lovely and caring and sweet his mum was but how vicious and vindictive his dad was.

They didn't make the most natural of couples but boy did they fit together perfectly.

"Alright, go get ready you're coming with me today, remember?" Chris ruffled Ronan's light brown hair and gave him a loving nudge out the way so he could walk past him.

Chris buttoned up his shirt as he headed back down the landing and over to his and (Y/n)'s shared room. He knew she hadn't been well the past few days, morning sickness seemed to hit her like a truck, especially last night. He'd had to rummage around in the kitchen cupboards until he found a large plastic bowl to keep beside the bed so if (Y/n) was going to be sick and couldn't make it to the bathroom, she could use the bowl instead.

He flicked the light on as he walked into the room and hurried over to the bed, kneeling up behind (Y/n). He could feel a growl building up at the back of his throat when his eyes raked over his wife's frame. (Y/n) was laid on her side with her back facing him, she had an arm wrapped around her waist and her knees pulled up to her stomach. Both hands were clutching the 'sick bowl' as they now called it but her skin was glistening with sweat and she was shaking.

"Okay doll, I'm gonna sit you up." Clicking his tongue against his cheek, Chris moved the bowl to the end of the bed before he wrapped his arms gently under (Y/n)'s chest and kept one hand at the back of her neck.

He felt (Y/n)'s arms weakly loop around his neck and he shuddered at the way she whimpered when he slowly lifted her so she was sitting up with her weight resting on his chest. She was burning up against him and he would bet that she was now dehyrdrated from how much she had been sick over the night.

"I guess we're taking a trip to the hospital this morning,"

Reaching across to the night stand, Chris grabbed the glass of water on there and placed it in (Y/n)'s trembling hands. He felt the way she squirmed against him in a silent protest. Hospitals were full of dark memories and horrid thoughts for both of them, it took a lot of persuading on Chris' part to get his wife to go to a hospital. One time he had just picked her up over his shoulder and carried her to the car to take her when she tried to protest against him.

"No, I'll be okay."

(Y/n) tipped her head back against Chris' shoulder and tried to take a mouthful of water to prove her point further. She didn't want to go to the hospital, not if there was a chance they would try and make her stay there.

"Hm."

"Please don't make me go."

A sigh passed through Chris' lips before he pressed his lips against the back of her head. She sounded so much like Ronan when she said that but whenever (Y/n) asked Chris for something, he always gave in no matter what it was. He went weak at the knees for her and if she was ill, all Chris wanted to do was comfort and smother her with love. He didn't exactly want to go to the hospital either but he didn't want her getting any worse.

"Well we've got two options baby. I can take the boys with me and you can stay home and I'll call to check up on you. Or we all go to the club and I keep an eye on all of you there. What's it gonna be?"

Chris would be fine with taking the boys to his gym with him but then that meant leaving (Y/n) here feeling ill and sluggish on her own. Even if he called her, she might get worse and he knew he couldn't trust her to tell him if she was eating and drinking properly or not. (Y/n) never liked to worry him when he was at work and it was endearing but it was also infuriating when she wouldn't tell him if she was unwell because she didn't want to disturb him.

The gym was Chris' other world, it was where he worked out, where he had complete control and hundreds of people working for him. It was where dodgy dealings and side deals and contract killings went on.

It wasn't the best place to have kids around but with Chris owning the place, it couldn't be safer for them. They never strayed from him, his right hand man Seb helped keep an eye on them and Ronan loved working out alongside his dad.

Having (Y/n) at the club was also like moral support for the guys working there. Chris relaxed and was easier on everyone when (Y/n) was around, she was like their guardian angel. If something went wrong or someone fucked up, they wished (Y/n) was there because the punishments were never as harsh if the bosses lovely lady was there.

"I'll come with you." (Y/n) took a large gulp of her drink as if to seal the deal and try and prove that she was going to be alright. Plus, Chris had a large sofa in his office so if she needed a nap or felt the need to lay down, she would be fine curled up safe in the office with Cole.

"Okay, I'll go get the boys ready."

Chris pressed another longing kiss to the top of (Y/n)'s forehead before he gently leaned her back against the pillows surrounding the headboard. He could already see she needed about five minutes to breathe and relax before she got ready. With quick steps, Chris headed out the room and rapped his knuckles on Ronan's bedroom door. He peeked his head round the door to find his eldest was finally dressed.

"Go make your mum some breakfast, we're all heading to the club today."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where had they disappeared to?

Running his fingers through his hair, Chris stalked down the corridor away from his office where he had left (Y/n) falling asleep on the sofa. So far she hadn't been sick since coming to the office, but she'd barely eaten anything either. The boys had eaten like there was no tomorrow, Chris included, whereas (Y/n) had a few small nibbles of a sandwich and a few glasses of juice.

At least while he had (Y/n) here, he could keep a proper eye on her and make sure she was alright, which was more than could be said for the boys since they seemed to have disappeared. Chris had put a worker named Alex in charge of the boys for a while and now he couldn't find them anywhere.

"Hey, have you seen the boys anywhere?" Chris motioned his hand towards Sebastian who was walking the other way until they locked eyes.

He was Chris' right hand man, he was the person Chris trusted the most after (Y/n), of course.

"They're in the equipment room, why?"

"I just lost track of them. Hey, don't go in the office, (Y/n)'s in there and isn't feeling too good."

"Oh, okay."

Chris felt a little more at ease when Sebastian turned on his heels and started walking in the opposite direction, alongside Chris. If he couldn't go in the office and start on the finance books then he may as well tag along with the boss and see how the boys were doing. He was used to (Y/n) being around but he knew she can't be well if Chris was dishing out the 'do not disturb' sign.

"How's she doing, the scan's next week, right?"

Sebastian liked (Y/n). She brought out the better, calmer side of Chris that they didn't get to see too often and it was clear she had a positive effect on him. The club always seemed brighter when she was around, the atmosphere was buzzing and the tension disappeared if (Y/n) was around and that was how everyone liked it.

"Yeah, Tuesday. She's doing great, just being sick a lot and she won't let me take her to a doctor."

"Hm."

Sebastian remembered the incident that happened two years ago like it only happened yesterday.

He had been in the office with Chris dealing with a bad situation when the phone rang and Chris being Chris, he put it on loud speaker. Sebastian felt like he was going to be sick when he heard (Y/n)'s tortured cries as she begged Chris to meet her at the hospital. (Y/n) had been at home with their two boys and their newborn daughter Evelyn when the four-month-old stopped breathing.

Both Chris and Sebastian had sped down to the hospital where Sebastian watched the boys and Chris had ended up laying on the hospital floor with (Y/n) screaming in his arms until she passed out.

Evelyn passed away.

For almost three months, Sebastian had been put in charge of the club, he was the temporary manager while Chris stayed home trying to look after the boys and piece his wife back together again. And it had taken months for Chris to get (Y/n) to leave the house. It had been a tag team game for them all, Chris got (Y/n) out of the house and showered her with as much love as he could. Ronan helped to watch over his mum when Chris went back to work and reported back to his dad.

And Sebastian tried to help with the boys, taking them to school and nursery when he could. (Y/n) coped inside the house. When she was inside, she would smother the boys with love and clean the house and move around as if nothing was wrong. There were only a few odd days when she couldn't get out of bed and face the world. But going out was different, it was like the outside world had become dangerous to her and she didn't dare go out.

They had all grown back into a routine over the past two years and Chris was finally starting to feel like he had his wife back. But now she was pregnant again and Chris was on edge.

He didn't want anything to go wrong and he didn't want (Y/n) dwelling on the thought of something happening. It wasn't just the pregnancy that was worrying, it was the thought of spending the first few months or even the first year of their baby's life worrying they might pass away like Evelyn did.

Chris shook his head, as if dismissing the subject while the pair of them walked into the back room. The gym had a lot of segments and parts, there was the boxing ring in one area, the machine equipment in this back room like treadmills and bikes. Then in the other room they had the larger equipment for pull ups and weights.

A smile pulled at Chris' lips when he scoured round the room for his boys. Ronan was on the treadmill and Cole was giggling away, seemingly playing chase with Alex.

"Cole, you shouldn't be running in here."

"Daddy come get me!"

Cole's big toothy grin sparkled up at Chris and he ran in Chris' direction before turning and skidding to run away, attempting to entice his dad into a game, unaware it wasn't working very well.

"No, stop running-"

A violent shiver ran down Chris' spine and he cringed the moment Cole slipped. His little arms stretched out to try and grab something to steady himself with but all he managed to do was scrape his hand on the treadmill before his head banged into the side of the treadmill Ronan was running on.

His scream cut through all of them and Chris jogged over to him and quickly scooped him up as Ronan slowed to a stop and moved to stand beside Sebastian.

"Let me take a look."

Chris went down on his knees and sat back on his heels with Cole sitting on his bent leg, loud screeches leaving his lips. He had his eyes screwed shut, his baby blond hair was askew and his hands were deadlocked around Chris' lower arm.

He had blood pouring from his nose that was bright red and clearly going to be bruised in a few hours and there were graze marks on his hand from scraping on the treadmill. Chris had been around enough to know what a broken nose looked like and Cole hadn't broken his nose, thankfully.

The look Cole gave Chris made his heart stutter, his wide blue eyes were sparkling from being glazed over with tears that were pouring down his face but the moment Chris locked eyes with him, a loud sob left his lips.

“Head forward for me buddy, spit it out.” Chris rubbed Cole’s back and gently pushed his head so he was looking down at the floor in case his nose was still bleeding, he didn't want the blood to run back down his throat.

When Cole coughed the blood onto the floor and seemed like he was the slightest bit calmer, Chris gently scooped him up and settled him on his hip against his chest as he stood up. He watched as Cole curled up into his chest seeking a lot of comfort, wrapping one arm around Chris’ neck whilst he held the other hand to his bleeding nose but it didn’t stop the wails from leaving his lips.

Just when Chris thought Cole was starting to calm down, he seemed to realise his hand was grazed as well and a very loud scream left his lips that deafened Chris. He held his little hand out to his dad and waved it in his face to prove his point.

"It's alright bud, just a little cut. You're okay, let's go find mummy."

"Kiss," The word blubbered past Cole's bloodied lips and his hand stayed in front of Chris' face until he leaned closer and kissed the palm of his hand that was red and lightly burned. He then leaned over and kissed Cole's nose to see if that would calm him down but his cries continued, muffled by Chris' neck that was now sticky with blood.

"Get a wet cloth," Chris motioned to Ronan who hurried over to the water machine and grabbed a paper towel to run under the stream.

Chris was very gentle when he cleaned the blood from Cole's nose, lips and chin. He could see it clearly stung and made him whimper but it looked like the blood was finally coming to a stop which was a relief.

“Alright buddy, the bleedings stopped now. You’re fine, you’re fine.” Leaning forward, Chris pressed his lips against Cole's burning forehead and slowly started to bounce him on his hip.

He would be fine, he just needed his mum.

#Chris Evans #chris evans imagine #chris x reader #dad! chris #imagine #mob!chris evans #sebastian stan #soft spot

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