#corner stone cues | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivwritescrappythings · 3 months

Text

Unfair

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.

part 2

tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.

word count: 7.2k

MDNI

masterlist

–

Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready.

The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.

Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.

The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd.

You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives.

Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.

—

When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.

The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.

With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now.

You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere.

Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime.

“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back.

You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.

God, you hoped he was Joel.

He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance.

You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth.

“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.

“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said.

Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.

“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.

Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.”

“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.

You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair.

“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself.

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.

For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.

“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.

He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth.

“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.

There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.

“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat.

Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”

“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.

Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.

–

You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor.

The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine.

“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger.

You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.

Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.

There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.

You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding.

“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.”

You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.

“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.

Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.

“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.

“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.

Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight.

The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.

Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.

She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her.

Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.

Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car.

You were tipsy enough to allow it.

He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.

“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.

It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by.

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close.

You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed.

He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.

You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.

Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.

Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.

The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth.

“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.

“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.

You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection.

He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.

He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.

You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare.

“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.

—

It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.

Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside.

As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist.

“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear.

“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers.

The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.

He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.

“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms.

You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up.

You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.

Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.

The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth.

Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.

“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.

“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.

You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.

“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”

He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart.

You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs

“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him.

Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks.

One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.

Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you.

And then he pulled back.

“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.

He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey.

He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.

Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.

He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.

You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up.

It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped.

You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat.

The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.

“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”

“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice.

Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge.

When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.

“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.

You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.

Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him.

“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”

The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe.

Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge.

“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you.

Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further.

He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.

Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.

“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside.

Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.

You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you.

He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.

“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach.

The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.”

You couldn’t take waiting anymore.

He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat.

You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.

Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.

Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.

Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.

You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm

You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.

His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.

A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”

You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.

A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.

“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.

You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.

Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.

You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself.

Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.

“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.

“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it.

He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.

A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”

–

Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #the last of us #reader insert #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #tlou hbo #pedro pascal sag awards #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x fem!reader

413 notes · View notes

nataliasquote · 3 months

Text

I Will Rescue You | n romanoff

Summary: An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected…

Warnings: teen pregnancy, injury, blood, guns

Pairings: natasha x adopted!daughter!reader

wc: 3.7k

note: this is just precious mama nat who holds a special place in my heart

-⧗-

"Got your six, Natasha. Approach when ready." Nat heard the crackle over her intercom and readied her gun, her elbows locked as she pressed herself against the wall.

Never did she think she'd be back in this place. The one place she vowed never to come back to. But here she was. The coldness of the stone wall was seeping through her tactical suit, which wasn't adapted to support her through Russia's freezing temperatures.

But that was the last thing Natasha was thinking about. There were girls inside. Girls that needed help. Natasha knew all too well how they felt, and she wanted to put a stop to it.

Yelena was on the opposite side of the courtyard, double ponytails swishing back and forth as she kept checking her surroundings. The sisters made eye contact and nodded, Natasha taking that as her cue to move.

Silent as the dead of night, the redheaded assassin crept through the open door, sticking to the shadows like this very place had taught her. She didn't make a sound, taking down guards with a single slice to the throat, clean and precise. Fires shot in the distance and she knew she didn't have long.

But this place was once her home. She knew it like the back of her hand, as much as she hated to admit it. She knew who she wanted to meet for the final time, but a faint rumbling told her that that plan was gone.

"черт возьми." She muttered under her breath as her once careful footing now broke into a sprint. The team had estimated about 30 minutes for extraction, but that had been cut down to 10. There were more guards than the trio expected, but they powered through.

"I'm hitting the training rooms. Nat cover the wings and Yelena-"

"Doors, yes I know. Don't need to tell me солдат."

"Buck, you know she hates being bossed around." Natasha whispered as she climbed the stairs. She heard gunshots through Bucky's comm, but carried on. They could look after themselves.

The sight of the dorm corridor made Nat sick to her stomach. But she hauled herself together and ran along the hallway, checking the rooms. They were empty.

The sight of the tiny beds empty was a relief to her. Maybe they had stopped taking so many young children.

"I've got 15 in here Nat." Bucky called over the comm.

"Take them to the jet. I've got none so far." She checked all the dorm rooms, but there wasn't a trace of life. She thought the place was deserted until a faint whimper was heard, followed by desperate attempts to console.

It sounded like a baby's cry, so Nat placed her gun in her hostler. She didn't need to have her weapons out right now. The widow bites on her wrists would do enough for now to keep her protected.

There were 5 single cells along the back wall, and only one of them was dimly lit. Nat stepped into the light so she wouldn't shock anyone who was living in there. It seemed empty at first, but upon closer inspection Nat could see a young girl curled up in the corner.

Her blue eyes were locked on Nat, muscles tense as she pressed herself into the wall.

"Я ничего не делал, клянусь!" (i didn't do anything I swear). There were bruises on her temples and a hastily tied bandage on her arm and Nat just smiled softly.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." She crouched down outside the rails and offered her hand out slowly, like you would to a frightened puppy. But the girl just stared at Nat, her eyes narrowing.

"You are Black Widow." Her english was broken and laced with a heavy Russian accent. "You disgrace him."

Nat frowned at her words but shook her head. "No, I'm here to save you. I'm gonna get you out."

"Nobody take us anywhere." As she spoke, her arms loosened to show the tiny baby wrapped in a blanket in her arms. It couldn't have been more than 2 months old, but yet the girl only looked around 15. Natasha felt sick to her stomach. What kind of sick programme had they created?

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. How old are you?"

The girl stared at Nat for a few minutes before answering. "16."

"Блядь. (fuck)". Natasha sat back on her heels,

contemplating her next move. "And the baby? Ваш ребенок? (your baby?)". The girl nodded.

"Y/n." Nat raised an eyebrow. "меня зовут Y/n."

"That's a beautiful name. You want to get out of here?" The girl shook her head slowly, and Nat didn't blame here. This was all she knew. To her, it was home, as sick and twisted as it was. "You will be safe."

"Safe? You safe?"

Natasha nodded. "You're safe with me. You both are. But we need to go." As if on cue, the whole building began to shake and pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling. The girl screamed and buried her face in her daughter's blanket, holding her tightly. "Y/n, we need to go!" Nat blasted the padlock and the door swung open. "Now!"

"Can't!" The teenager gestured to her leg, which was openly bleeding. A gunshot wound was clean through her calf, and looked fairly fresh, meaning the girl struggled to walk. Nat registered it and brought her hand up to her comms, slowly to not startle the girl.

"Bucky I need backup. Quickly." After a grunt in reply, she quickly looked around the room to find something to help. But it was bare except for a bed and a sink.

Another vibration shook the building and Nat had no other option. She rushed over to the girl and helped her stand, taking the baby in her arm after reassuring the anxious teenager that she would be safe. The girl could hardly walk, but Nat couldn't carry her. Not with the baby too.

As a pair, they hobbled out onto what once was the hallway, now half broken in the middle and filled with rocks. Y/n was heavily leaning on Nat, pain shooting up her leg with every step.

A voice came yelling down the hallway, and through the dust broke Bucky, racing along trying to fit his gun back in it's holster. "What-"

"No questions. Move. Talk later. You need to carry her." Nat was clear and concise with her orders and she gestured to Y/n's leg, which was all Bucky needed.

But Y/n was wary of the new person and she grabbed Nat's arm in front of her. But the redhead turned to face her.

"Hey, it's okay. He is going to help you be safe." She looked into the girl's blue eyes, knowing they had very little time left to get out of here.

"Natasha, I don't know where you are but you better get out of here because this place is gonna blow!" Yelena yelled into her mic, cursing in Russian as she shot down guards.

"Y/n? Please?"

"если ты делаешь больно, детка, я делаю тебе больно! (If you hurt baby, I hurt you!)". Natasha nodded and carefully settled the baby in her arm. Y/n didn't take her eyes off the infant until Bucky picked her up and she felt the pain shoot through her leg. He mumbled an apology as they. began to run, dodging explosions and gunfires.

They broke through a gap in the wall and Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, not used to the blinding light of the sun on the snow.

Yelena was stood at the base of the Quinjet they had stolen from Stark, and as she saw her sister approaching she ran inside to start the engines. They lifted off the ground just as Nat managed to throw herself into a seat, the baby still safely in her arms.

They'd taken a bigger jet than the Avengers usually used, so the widow's Bucky had taken from the training room were in a separate area where they could sit comfortably together. But Nat had brought Y/n up to where she was sitting so she could look at her gunshot wound.

"мой ребенок! (my baby!)" Y/n cried out as soon as she was sitting, but Nat was already on it. She soothed the distressed girl and gently placed the baby in her outstretched arms.

The young girl may only have been 16, but she was a good mother. She calmed her child and an old Russian lullaby and gently stroked her head, kissing it softly. As she sat opposite, Nat couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy when looking at the mother and daughter. As wrong as it was, she never had that opportunity, and she hated herself for it every day.

"Can I look at your leg?" The young girl nodded and stretched her leg out, wincing slightly. The bullet had gone straight through which made Nat's job easier. "Okay it just needs a few stitches. May I? This will hurt."

Y/n shrugged and pulled down the bandage on her arm. Bucky had to turn away at the sight of the DIY stitches that were 'holding' the wound closed. Nat took a sharp inhale of breath but kept her calm. That could be sorted out back at the compound.

Y/n didn't flinch once as the stitches were being put in. She kept her eyes glued to the baby, stroking her face softly as she hummed once more.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Nat passed the girl a blanket and stepped back to give her some space. "I'll go check on the others." She said to Bucky, who nodded and went to sit at the controls with Yelena.

Y/n was exhausted but tried to keep her guard up. Her eyes darted around the small room, but it wasn't long before she couldn't fight sleep and her eyes began to close.

~~~

"Hey hey woah! It's okay! She's here. She's right here." Natasha was trying to defend herself against Y/n fists as the panicked teenager attacked her. Nat knew the baby wasn't safe just laying on the bed as the teenager slept, so she moved her to a makeshift cot. But Y/n woke up and freaked out.

"You touched her without my permission!" She screamed, swinging a fist at Nat who caught it just in time.

"Y/n, I was looking after her. You needed the rest." Nat held the struggling girl's fists in her hands and stood still, watching as she breathed hard. "It's okay. She's okay."

With a huff, Y/n pulled her hands away and scooped up her baby, cradling her close to her chest. "She needs feeding," she said bluntly.

"Okay. We don't have anything here but why don't you and I go out today and we can buy some supplies, including a cot for our room?" Natasha asked this more as a peace offering and the girl eyed her suspiciously before nodding.

"The other girls. Where are they?"

"Fury- our director has got new homes for them. Don't worry."

"And me? New home for me?"

Nat paused, thinking about her answer. The truth was, she didn't want to see Y/n leave. Not just yet. Something about the girl had reached out to her, and the slight possibility of having a daughter raced through her mind. Maybe this girl was her second chance, a chance to do something good again. "Well, we wanted to keep an eye on you and the baby. Seeing as she's so young."

Y/n just hummed in response before disappearing towards her room with a slight limp.

"You've got a feisty one there." Came a voice from behind Nat. She turned around to find Wanda snacking on a bowl of cereal, spoon halfway to her mouth.

"Yeah." Her reply was half hearted as she stared at where Y/n was last seen.

"Nat?" She turned to face Wanda once more. "I can hear your thoughts; they're really loud. And I'm gonna say go for it, but be careful. You know what you were like when you first came out. She's not much different than you, you know. Give her time."

Natasha smiled at her friend before grabbing a banana. "Thanks Wands."

~~~

Nat really listened to Wanda's words, which is why she called up the store before they left and asked to hire it out for the day. Stark had more than enough money to make that happen, and Nat wanted Y/n to be as comfortable as possible.

They entered through the back door, and only 2 members of staff were on each level of the huge department store. The bright lights and colourful items were enough to overwhelm Y/n anyway, as she held her baby close to her chest, still wrapped in the filthy blanket.

"You can pick whatever you want, okay?" Nat informed the teenager as they entered, but she didn't respond.

She wandered around, face stoic and eyes wide. Natasha could see the outline of a glock tucked into her jeans, but she didn't comment. Where she got it from was unclear, but it brought the girl a sense of comfort and Nat trusted her not to use it inappropriately.

Nat pointed a couple of bottles and baby clothes out, to which Y/n either shrugged or nodded. She was uncomfortable, but this trip was necessary.

"Okay, how about we look at cribs?"

"Our room?"

"Yeah if you want. But there's a nursery we can set up?"

Y/n thought for a minute. "But- no. Close to me."

"She will be close to you." Y/n looked skeptical. "Okay, how about this. We can get one for our room and one for hers, yeah?"

"Okay. But you don't leave no? No moving rooms?"

Natasha couldn't help but smile. "Honey, I'm not leaving. We can get you your own room if you want? For space?"

"No."

"Okay then."

They walked over to the cribs section and looked at the options. Y/n had relaxed a bit more as she considered the options, reaching her hand out to feel the wood. She'd never had the opportunity to make her own decisions before, and it felt foreign.

But within her focussed task, Natasha failed to notice the shop assistant approaching them, until a bright and cheery "Hi there! Can i help you?" broke through their thoughts.

Y/n immediately jumped behind Nat. Her hand would have reached for her gun if it wasn't so busy holding her baby and newly found protector.

"отойди! (stay back!)" Y/n yelled from behind Natasha, who held an arm in front of her. The assistant looked startled and held her hands up in surrender, taking a few steps back.

"Sorry. Could you give us a minute?" Nat apologised quickly and then turned to Y/n. "Hey, stop struggling." The girl unclenched her fist and placed it on her child's back. "That woman is not going to hurt you. Or your baby. You're safe."

"She stay away!" Y/n grunted through gritted teeth, chest heaving. Nat knew there was no winning this, so she placed her arm around the girl, who didn't flinch like she usually did.

"We don't need any assistance right now, thank you." The now shaken woman nodded and scurried away, not wanting to spend another moment around the assassins.

"We go? Now." Y/n stood her ground, staring Natasha directly in the eye.

"30 minutes. Then we go."

"Fine."

Nat rushed around the rest of the store, grabbing baby formula, clothes, cribs, clothes and tethers. She found a bouncer and play mat, even though the infant wasn't even sitting up yet. She grabbed some clothes for Y/n, some of which the teenager picked out, others that Nat knew she needed. The small girl was currently wearing one of Wanda's sweatshirts and a pair of jeans, both of which were too big. All of the items were sent directly to the compound, so they didn't have to carry anything home. And Natasha made sure to heftily tip the woman who had approached them before, as an apology.

Stark had restricted everyone's access except Nat and Wanda to the areas where Y/n was residing. The girl didn't trust men at all, and even with Wanda she was slightly wary.

But after the intense shopping trip, Y/N was exhausted. And her baby was restless, crying even after being fed and changed. The teenager was frustrated and tired, but she refused to hand the baby over to Nat, who offered many times.

But Natasha had another plan. She turned on a movie on the TV and let Y/n sit on the bed, shushing her child desperately.

"Why don't we try her new crib? Maybe she'll settle in there?"

Y/n looked over with heavy eyelids and reluctantly stood up. Her legs buckled slightly but she continued walking to place the baby in the crib. Nat handed her a pacifier but the teenager stared at her blankly, confused at the item she was holding.

"May I?" Nat asked, gesturing to the child.

"Careful." Y/n hissed.

Nat approached the infant and slotted the pacifier into her mouth, smiling at how her cried were instantly silenced.

"ведьма (witch)." Y/n mumbled, watching as her daughter fell asleep within the minute.

"Спасибо, дорогая. (Thank you darling.)" Nat quipped with a smirk as she watched the teenager climb back onto her bed. "Why don't you come onto mine? We can watch a movie?"

Y/N's eyes filled with fear. "Not Snow White. Please no."

Natasha pushed painful memories down and she shook her head. "Definitely not. I still can't watch it."

Y/n shrugged and hesitantly climbed onto Natasha's bed, sticking close to the edge nearest the crib. But Nat didn't comment. She was too busy trying to suppress her excitement over the improvements Y/n had made in such a short amount of time.

She put an episode of Friends on, knowing it was lighthearted and not likely to trigger any fresh memories that Y/n still had.

But she didn't need to worry. Within 10 minutes the teenager was fast asleep, her head resting on Nat's shoulder ever so slightly. The redhead didn't move. She couldn't. This girl was trusting her more and more. The improvement that had been made in a week was beyond anything Nat had ever expected. She paused the movie and switched off the main light, wrapping her arm gently around Y/n's shoulders.

~~~

(5 months later)

Y/n shot up in bed, chest heaving as she broke out of her nightmare. Her eyes automatically darted to the crib beside her bed... but it was empty.

"Mama! Mama! где мой малыш! (Where is my baby!)" She leaped out of bed and raced out of the room, looking everywhere as she ran to the corridor.

She kept yelling for Natasha, calls becoming more and more frantic the longer it went on. But Nat heard her and called back, summoning her into the kitchen.

"I can't find Talia! Someone must have taken h-" The teenager stopped in her tracks, not expecting what she saw infront of her.

Her 7 month old daughter, Talia, was sat in her high chair, eating yoghurt from the spoon that Nat was feeding her. There were berries scattered across the countertop and with every spoonful of yoghurt came a wipe to the mouth from Nat.

"Little miss over her was extra fussy this morning so I made breakfast. Thought you might want to sleep in a bit more."

Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief and leaned against the doorway for a second to catch her breath. "I thought she'd been taken!"

"Well, she just gets more Natty time, don't you little one?" Talia cooed in response, her tiny fists smushing a blackberry on her tray. "Oh you're a messy girl."

"Here Mama, I can clean her."

"Ah ah! I know what I'm doing." Wanda was sat on the other side of the counter eating a plate of pancakes, but she burst out laughing as Talia squished another berry and it squirted onto Nat's white shirt.

"Talia! No baby. Don't play with food." Y/n said, grabbing another wipe for Nat, who accepted it gracefully.

"Good morning Maximoff, Romanoff, Mini-Romanoff and.... Mini-Mini Romanoff." Tony made himself known as he entered the kitchen, Pepper not far behind him.

Over the last 5 months, Y/n had become more comfortable with the rest of the team, especially Tony who spoilt her rotten. He was forever ordering random items or adding updates to her room with Natasha, even without being asked.

"Good morning Stark." Y/n acknowledged him with a smile.

"Nice moves Grandma!" Tony teased as Nat danced around, wiggling her hips, causing her to pause. She grabbed Talia's soggy rabbit plushie that she had been chewing and hurled it at his head, which he only just managed to duck to avoid.

Talia giggled at the sight of her bunny flying through the air and everyone froze.

"Was that her first laugh?" Wanda asked, and Y/n grinned.

"My clever girl! Mama loves her clever girl!"Y/n picked her up from her high chair and held her up, peppering her face in kisses. Talia giggled even more, kicking her legs at the funny feeling.

Nat sank down onto a chair next to Wanda and watched her new daughter and granddaughter laughing together. Tony had given the child her bunny back, and was having fun playing peek-a-boo with her as Y/n held her.

"They've both done so well." Wanda commented as she watched the scene unfold.

"I'm so proud of her. I'm going to ask Fury for adoption papers today." Nat smiled as she felt Wanda's eyes on the side of her face.

"Really?" Wanda's voice was laced with excitement. "You're going to make it official?"

Nat nodded. "She will officially be Y/n Romanoff. My Y/n Romanoff."

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #yelena belova #bucky barnes #black widow

408 notes · View notes

cevherien · 24 days

Text

Abby Anderson.

Fucking you on her motorcycle ☺️

tags: no need to sugarcoat anything she eats you out on her motorbike, semi public sex, she's kinda rough with it, dom/sub undertones.

You were riding on Abby's motorbike, been so needy lately but she was a busy woman, so you weren't able to play around as you'd like. You had missed her touch, the way her muscles would flex when she had her strong hold on your flesh. But now you were alone, well on the road, no less. Your tits behind the flimsy material of the shirt you were wearing pressed against her back as you hold onto her.

Arms wrapped around her lower belly, playing dangerous but it was worth it, traffic safety be damned you were fucking dripping for this woman, head too fuzzy for consequences.

She was taking you to a friends house or whatever, you weren't listening when she told you that, instead you were busy grinding yourself on the seat of the bike like a pathetic little slut, but you pay no mind to such labels anymore. I mean if the shoe fits.

But you weren't completely stupid, obviously, so you wait like a good girl for a red light to strike, your hand drawing closer to her parted thighs once she stops the ride you are onto her.

"Abby-" delicate fingers playing with the material of her pants, near her inner thighs earning a surprised gasp from her. And as if taking that as your cue you press against her further and cup her clothed pussy.

She involuntarily drops her head back, with a heavy whine she spells out "What are you doing-?"

"You know exactly what," you apply pressure with two fingers on where you know her clit to be under those layers.

"Are you out of your mind-" her hips rise a little to gain more friction from your palm involuntarily, you take your hand away just to be a little shit. Making her groan at the lost.

"Maybe i am," but before you can do much else the green light is on and your time is up. She pushes on the engine and you almost fall back with the momentum, barely finding the time to hold back to her. "Whoa- hey- hey" maybe she was the crazy one.

Now you weren't the only one playing said dangerous game, her's were deadly though, nowhere near close to your little teases of cat and mouse. You realize she's changed routes, and her grasp on the handlebar lever a little too strong for the speed limit.

"Wait where are we even-" she cuts you before you can finish.

"We will play what you want, how you want bunny."

Abby pulls near a back alley, without telling you anything she spins you around and you brace yourself against the stone wall of the shady corner, only support being her motorcycle.

"Acting like a cheap whore will only get you so far you know," she gives a little slap at your butt, so rudely "Good thing i'm here, yeah?"

Goddamn, seeing her mean like this was something new, but fuck was it a welcome surprise. You whine then, she presses you further into the wall with your cheeks squashed and her hand on your ass.

Abby's next move was simple, pulling your pants down together with your underwear, bunching at your bent knees, leaving you open on display. The cold air of both the alley and reality of being bare in public, well, semi public but still, was making you drip down hard.

Abby kneels down, presses her face to your cunt, laps at your slick as if honey, only getting you wetter. Eating pussy from behind felt dirtier, cheap.

She spreads your lips to lick deeper into your wet hole, teething on your slick pearly clit. Kissing your puffy lips and playing on your rim, she knew how you liked it best.

Well she also knew she had to keep it short, unfortunately. If it was up to her she'd keep you open on display like this and lick you clean until you were out of it and spent, but alas, you were getting your ass ate in a back alley for fucks sake.

Her tongue continue it's magic for some more, enough to get you off for two times, your hole leaking down like some fountain of youth.

But before giving you the pleasure of a third orgasm she pulls back, slaps your pussy from the back and pulls your pants back up. A needy whine slips your lips while you move your hips together to feel better. That was not enough.

As if reading your mind, "Look at the mess," trust she was no different under those clothes, "We'll continue later baby, when we get back."

Yeah and when you do get back, she'd split you apart with her eight inch strap, well lubed up and well pampered until you can't remember ever feeling so needy.

#need her viscerally #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby anderson smut #lesbian #abby the last of us #abby tlou #cece writes ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧#cevherudite

228 notes · View notes

neopuppy · 1 year

Note

Hi 😊 hope you're doing well. Can I ask for just the tip scenario with jaemin please 💙 love your work.

think of this as…..a teaser of something to come in the future☺️💚

warnings: ‘just the tip’, unprotected penetration

“I thought you said she was special for a newbie.”

Jaemin’s glaring at you, arms crossed over his chest annoyed with his ankles mimicking the same position. Only to further intimidate you, test your will and see just how serious you are about this.

“She is.” Johnny’s quick to confirm, quickly shooting him a stern look before moving to stand in front of you and hide you with his larger frame. “Don’t listen to anything he says.”

“I’m still sore from yesterday..” you try to whisper, Jeno standing nearby scratching at his nape shyly.

“Sorry…” he mouths, shrugging and smiling sheepishly.

“Do you want to reschedule?” Johnny’s assuring as always, squeezing your shoulders to calm you. “We don’t have to film today if you’re not up to it.”

Jaemin’s mumbling curses under his breath, tightening the sash around his waist, robe concealing more of his chest. “This is bullshit.”

“No no..” you know Jaemin’s pissed off, rolling his eyes behind Johnny’s back while repeating ‘special my ass’. “Can’t we just, I don’t know.. take things slow?”

“We’re shooting a gonzo scene, how the hell do you imagine we can take things slow!” Jaemin moves to stand next to you, his expression clearly filled with frustration. “This is stupid Johnny! We’re wasting filming time.”

“We can always rework the filming style, nothings set in stone alright? Calm it down.”

“What if we..” Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow at the sound of your voice, teeth gritted between his lips. “A little at a time, you know.. slow.”

Jeno clears his throat, continuing to set up the camera’s position. “Just the tip scenes do great from what I’ve seen, just saying.”

“Just the tip?” Johnny’s eyebrow cocks up, slowly nodding. “POV Just The Tip….innocent slut struggles to take a 9 inch cock for the first time.” His fingers snap, nodding and smiling. “You think you can handle that?”

Jaemin smirks over his shoulder for only you to see, tongue dragging between his teeth as if daring you to back down.

“I can do it.”

Johnny nods, tugging you into his side to whisper against your hair. “I won’t get mad if you can’t.”

Tucking into his chest you double check that Jaemin’s moved away, wrapping around Johnny’s waist. “Is it really 9?”

He laughs at that, stroking your waist through the robe. “Nothing you haven’t handled before.”

He’s right, between filming with Johnny and Jeno you’ve been put through thicker and bigger than you fathomed to be possible, but Jaemin..

As if on cue he unties the sash around his trim waist, eyeing you from your toes up to the anxious look you give him in return. Grinning slightly he bites down on the corner of his lip, robe dropped down leaving himself completely bare, length half hard dangling between his upper thigh and pelvic bone.

Fuck.

Tugging himself to full mass his brows lift at you suggestively, as if to say ‘you next’.

The settings simple today, nothing plot heavy, plain set only for the purpose of close-up shots, a few cameras set up around to capture your lower halves connecting, Jeno handling a handheld camera for up-above shots from Jaemin’s point of view. It’s different, and as you approach the edge of the couch in front of him you remind yourself that this has to do good. It’s only your second week working at Suh Films, and the last thing you plan to do is let Johnny down so soon after taking a chance on you.

“Jeno fuck you too good yesterday?” Jaemin asks, low toned, grabbing onto the knotted up sash keeping your figure covered. “You know, if you can’t handle a little pain..”

“I can.”

“He’s not really..” Jaemin leans in, licking at your earlobe. “As thick as me.” Untying your robe, he steps closer and grips onto your waist, fingers digging into your sides purposefully to manhandle you onto the couch, robe completely slipping off in the process.

Gripping around your knees, he hoists you closer until half of your ass hangs from the edge, shoving your legs into place until you sit spread open, feet curled against the couches ledge and your palms flat to support your balance.

A sadistic thrill runs through his chest, inspecting your swollen core. Jeno really had done a number on you, fucking like a horny teenager finally nailing his wet dream. Palming down your inner thighs, he pulls your center open with his thumbs, wet folds spreading out met with the cool air filling the room.

“You’ll let me put it in a little, right?” He asks, no longer whispering. The cameras rolling not even crossing your mind, too engrossed in each flex of muscle rippling through his chest and arms. The dumb whiny nod you give is all he needs to grip around the base of his length, girth appearing ridiculous in thickness surrounded by his fingers.

Smoothing his thumb between your folds, he bends at the knee, the tip of his length swiping between to smear arousal up to your clit. Slit sucking at the bundles of nerves with each slow pass.

“Too wet for a whore that can’t take a big cock.” Jaemin sneers, tip pushing down a glob of wetness back to your entrance, the sound of it bubbling out embarrassingly loud.

“I can..”

“Oh yeah?” His teeth poke out, hiding back a smile as he pushes down against your resistant opening, having to suck back a hiss at the first bit of his length making it inside. “Fuck that’s tight.”

Jaemin whispers too low for the cameras to pick up, zoned in on the tip of his length struggling to push past the pulsating band sucking around him.

He keeps still for a second, inhaling short deep breaths as the veins lining his rod thrum violently, hungry for more. “Need in this pussy.”

Chewing at his bottom lip for a minute, his cockhead dips in and out furiously; stomach muscles contorting with every snap of your entrance around him. Focusing on your cunt gripping around his size, the stretch too painful to even look at. Heat scorches between his thighs, balls tightening up forcing him to tear his gaze away, distracting himself with your mouth, hung open and panting.

“Can you take more?”

#nct hard hours #nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin drabbles #anon #jaemin hard hours

1K notes · View notes

storiesoflilies · 14 days

Text

school bus love

synopsis: he wasn’t the kind of boy who was noticed first, but when she finally saw him, the world made just a little bit more sense.

pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader

warnings: none.

a/n: hello my lovelies! here’s a little piece of lily lore, and just a smidgen of my heart sprinkled into it too. this is based on the very first time i laid eyes on my boyfriend when we were young and seventeen <3 if anybody wants a continuation of this, do let me know :) enjoy xo

drabble series link. // part 2

how strange it was to leave behind everything you had ever known for your whole life, all in pursuit of the future you wanted for yourself.

the tips of her fingers were ice-cold, with nail beds dipped in a light blue hue, and puffs of her breath came out in whispy swirls. there was no sun in the sky, only grey clouds promising sleet and snow, near slips on the icy asphalt. she stared down the road, shoving her hands into her blazer pockets, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. she thought of home, knowing it most certainly wouldn’t be this cold there.

her bus buddy was standing beside her, careful not to lean against the wet stone wall behind them, while she typed frantically on her phone. the younger kids around them chattered away without a care in the world, still viewing the cold world around them through rose-tinted glasses, their zest for life seeming invincible.

she thought about how it didn’t seem all that long ago that she was just like them, only on the other side of the world.

“hey, by the way, my friend says she’s going to join us today,” her buddy announced, flicking her hair over her shoulder with an air of nonchalance. “she gets on at the next stop.”

“sure, yeah,” she replied, not really knowing what else she could say, and acutely aware that her opinion held quite little value.

this was a whole new world to her, a completely different way of life than before. she wasn’t used to having to learn all to navigate through the intricate social rules that came with enrolling in a school where students had known each other since they were toddlers. it was hard, and so very isolating. she didn’t like how subdued she had become and clung desperately to the hope that things would get better.

her bus buddy carried herself with her chin stuck in the air, clearly relishing in how much she didn’t know about anything at all, and was more than happy to share and gossip. she told her about who was in each friend group, where they all liked to drink in secret at the weekends, and who was dating who. menial things too, like how they had somehow earned the right to sit at the back of the bus simply because they were older, and how sitting anywhere else would garner harsh stares, as if she’d grown two heads.

not that any of it really mattered to her. she was just living on a big floating rock amidst the stars and inky black expanse of the universe, and was only here to finish her high school education and move onto bigger and brighter things.

hopefully.

as if on cue, the headlights of the bus shone through the misty air, coming to a screeching halt at the bus stop. she breathed out a sigh of relief, taking her hands out of her pocket and blowing hot air into them, rubbing them together in anticipation.

“fuck, fuck, c’mon let’s get on quick and get good spots,” her friend ushered, clearly impatient. “c’mon, before all the boys get here.”

they pushed through the throng of kids clambering onto the bus, and she felt a stab of guilt, although she was grateful to be getting out of the cold. her bus buddy ostentatiously plonked herself right onto a comfy spot in the back corner, and she slowly took the seat opposite to her.

“you think the boys are going to say anything?” she asked, slightly nervous, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of a confrontation.

her friend snorted. “who gives a shit if they do?”

heat rose to the back of her neck, and she rubbed it shyly, placing her backpack onto the floor between her legs. her friend was already texting again on her phone, paying her no attention, and she busied herself with trying to fish for her earbuds, and perhaps an old memory hidden somewhere in her pockets.

soon enough, she heard the familiar sounds of the boys whooping and boisterous voices approaching the end of the bus, and she shrank further into the safety of her crevice.

“hey hey hey! the fuck’s goin on here?” droned the familiar voice of satoro gojo, who was looking at them both with a disgusted crinkle of his perfect nose.

“shut up, gojo,” her friend spat back, sitting up straighter in her seat, glaring daggers at satoru that dared him to try and say anything else. “we were here first.”

satoru seemed to concede, albeit quite obviously begrudgingly. “whatever,” he mumbled, then returned to talking about whatever the rest of them were conversing about before.

the rest of the boys clambered into the seats, with satoro and suguru geto beside each other to the far left of them, with kento nanami sliding politely onto the seat beside her, quietly apologizing for brushing his leg against hers.

and then.

he sat down across from her, right beside her friend.

he, a boy with gorgeous dark hair and even more beautiful green eyes, immediately put his feet up in the tiny sliver of space between her and nanami. he who was big and broad, just exactly her type, and deliciously handsome. she was almost shell-shocked. had she ever seen this boy before in the two months she’d been here? something inside her told her that she had, but this had to be the first time she was really seeing him.

he glanced at her before immediately putting his headphones over his ears, tuning out the sound of the bus engine rumbling and sputtering.

she bit her lip and mirrored him, ignoring that familiar boom! badum! boom! of her heart.

the world flashed with a shade of rosy pink promises.

the universe smirked at her.

general taglist (open): @tadabzzzbee

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji oneshot #toji drabbles #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento

185 notes · View notes

bts5sosempire · 1 year

Text

the tyrant (viii)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5,852 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, mentions of infertility, etc. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna’s eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you." 𝐚/𝐧: I AM FINALLY DONE! Went pass the word limit istg. But hope y'all are ready what y/n is planning. 👀 btw, please like ❤️, comment in the "comment" section 📝 for tagging, and reblog 🔄 if you wish. Forgot I edited some parts in different chaps too, so if you see minor changes in them then I was fixing them.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Another few more months with the year ending, and another would mark the end of five years. Despite being bedridden, it had made you uneasy since spending the luxury time doing nothing had made you naught. Yumi and the personal servants who you had personally hired for your inner circle inside the castle had been keeping you posted up about your businesses from the outside. Everything was going well.

Holding the reports over the fire, it lights up when the corner catches, "I'm gonna leave for a bit." You told Yumi, who was alarmed by you.

They started to panic, "You already received your reports saying all is well; you shouldn't move around a lot." Yumi tried to sway your mind, but you had already stood up from your bed and in front of your long mirror.

With your arms stretched out, the personal servants you hired from the outside who knew about your secret come to your aid. They swiftly took off your attire and replaced it with your pseudo outfit. You rarely snuck out, but today you feel rebellious. Staying in bed may get you sick in staying in bed.

You turn around to grab Yumi by the arms and put her in your futon, "Stay here and be good." With a soft smile, you open the door and poke your head out and look around for a particular male valet. Outside, your room was quiet; everyone was prepping for dinner now and cleaning the dining area to feast later. "Where are they?" And right on cue, their eyes met yours when appearing from a corner, and they understood immediately when you nodded at them.

With the quick perception of their view, their feet race towards you. "Everyone is busy; it should take about two hours at most." They informed you with a bow, their gaze not meeting yours.

"Good," coming out of your room, your feet glide across the polished wooden boards as they tail closely behind you. Behind every castle are secret walls; you happened to know it by accident during your research days as becoming Seijuro Hajime. It somehow comes in handy now.

After making swift turns around the halls, you stop right in the middle of a wall that is made of a stack of jagged stone slabs building on top of another; its color that was once in the shade of grey birch is now darkened with tints of green. Its gap of lines was filled with green and yellow moss and heavy, unruly vibes hanging from above. The area you'll frequent quite a lot is an abandoned wing rumored to be a gorgeous garden but is now defiled by aging neglect. The large pond that was filled with colors of Koi fish is now empty with weeds and putrid water that is left behind by the rain. Chip redwoods of a bridge leading to a roofless gazebo that represents the heart and main attraction of the pond. Overall, everything is in bad condition.

Your fingers smoothly ran along every crevice and protruding bump of each slab, and it wasn't until you reached the smaller rock with a small mark that could go unnoticed under the human eyes if no one was paying attention to it. Faintly remembering the details at the back of your head, you push the rock, which caves into your strength.

There was a low rumble from within the walls, and debris fell from above the shaking forces. The wall split into two, and faint mechanic whirring gears could be heard. Torches mounted on the wall spring into life as each illuminates the dark long descending stairs ahead of you. Red wooden beams were worn for ages, also holding the tunnel. A faint smell of wet, sticky residue lingers in the air.

Well, that's ominous. You turn around to face the valet, and they bid you a half farewell, "Stay safe." Nodding at them, they press another adjacent block to the opening block, and the doors come sliding close.

You descend the stairs and follow one pathway until you reach the middle, where it diverges to three; if you remember, you should take the one on the right. It also says in the blueprint that there is a trigger for activating traps; right in the center is a hanging bell above. If the bell is cut loose, all the mechanisms within the walls will run. You eye the old rusted bell that is darkened with a barely color of copper resembling it.

"Did you miss me?" Someone throws themselves and wraps their arms around your neck behind you. You place a hand on top of the table to save yourself from toppling forward face-first into the food. The cup of warm tea of amber liquid spilled over your nimble fingers. Their scent entered your nose, and it was the same person you bumped into before. "You know you're very hard to find; I scoured the whole city." Sliding their arms around, that now occupied your arm, they sat beside you as if they were your lover.

Personal space for you is also gone.

You patiently set the cup down and grabbed the rag near the portable stove that warmed the teapot. Wiping away the spilled remnant, you inch away from the clingy woman by loosening your arm, but she only tightens it with a pout. For some reason, you don't think you understand the choice a young woman like her makes to try to be cute to get their way. I mean, you're a woman. That's why you're probably immune to it.

In the first place, you only came out here to be a spectator since, within your report, there should be two high clans born male heirs trekking through the city that Sukuna rules from Yuichi. But you doubt you can complete your task today if you don't do anything.

"It's rude not to look at the person talking to you. Do you know who I am?" They tugged your arm. "My older cousin runs this city, and I could have your head, too, you know?" It looks like it will be hard to get your attention, "My cousin is Sukuna Ryomen."

Upon hearing his name, you tried to remain indifferent, but you only let out a small huff of a laugh. 'This should be interesting to pass the time.' The woman thought throwing her cousin's name around would add weight and make her cave in, but it seemed to be doing the opposite effect. Without her knowing, you decided to amp up a charming facade. "The Sukuna Ryomen?" You turn your head to face her, and the coy smile that split across your lips made the woman frown. Why aren't you scared of her? "Do you know," you stare into those pomegranate eyes that share the same color as Sukuna, "throwing your cousin's name around isn't safe too? You're making yourself a target for-" your eyes roam around the room. A few people were looking your way, and the woman noticed it too and flushed red, "-those to take advantage of."

"If only you looked at me when I asked!" Kiriko fumbles out an excuse, and her face becomes hotter and red.

This makes you decide to toy with the woman. Since she has a relation to your supposed husband, it would be easy to probably get the information right if you knew how to ask. Although you think you wouldn't be able to, it's not hard for you to play around with her. "From what I heard, he isn't a good man."

"What do you know about him?" She bites back.

"He plays favorites with certain people, and there's this special wife he's rather fond of." You quip to get a reaction from her, and it seems to hit the mark. "I saw her a few times, and she's lovely that many of these city and village folks adore her. Got to say she's a woman after my own heart if she wasn't married."

"You shouldn't like her!" Kiriko jealousy spouted, and with a tug of your arm towards her, you thought she might yank it off its socket. "She might be pretending to be nice to make people like her! You should like someone genuine like me!" She declared, and this made you snort another laugh. A woman jumping the horse, it seems. You don't know what she has heard about you, but it is pretty amusing. "What? You don't believe me?" Now she sounds offended.

"It's not that I don't believe you," wanting to tease her more, you swoop in closer to her, "but I don't believe in tarnishing another person just on baseless rumors or what they have or heard against her." Kiriko shrinks back from the sudden closeness. She was quiet, and then you turned your attention away from her. "Sir," you raise a hand to pay for your tab. Once they're near, you drop the payment into their outstretched hands.

Sliding your arm out of their hold, you lighten up your pace with the woman chasing after you. "Wait!" They shouted after you, and you made eye contact with a nearby seller who understood what you indicated. The seller grabbed a bucket of water and poured it onto the ground right after Kiriko was close enough to be after you. Kiriko shrieks out when the lower half of her attire is wet. "Watch where you throw that dirty water, you peasant!"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Miss." They awkwardly apologize.

Kiriko bites the bottom of her lip and looks at your back; you don't even turn around to check if she's alright. She watches your figure disappear into the heads of an endless crowd with a little bit of resentment. She'll make you look her way no matter what since she wants to take you back to her homeland as a spouse by the end of her stay, even if it's by force.

[at a random inn]

"So what's the deal?" You suddenly appeared by Yuichi's side, who got slightly spooked.

"You got to stop doing that," the man told you; he put a hand over his chest. You only laugh and cross your arms before looking below from the second floor. Yuichi saw you spectating two males who stood out like a sore thumb in the crowds of primary cotton colors clothing of grey, dark grey, and brown. "I thought you weren't going to come?"

"And miss this glorious sight?" You humor Yuichi but cut it short too. "I must return to the castle soon, or my covers blow. So who are they?" Motioning the two rich strangers talking lowly to one another, Yuichi tilts his head slightly toward you.

"The one in deep indigo is Totsuwa Iriyu; from my sources that I have people gathered around, his family used to serve the Emperor before they fell from grace. The funny thing is your husband was involved with their family, and there were speculations that he took them off from the Inner Circle of the Emperor Hoshu." Yuichi explains, and you thought that might be something Sukuna would do. "And the one in dark green is Mugetsu Rintoru, and he's that buddy, in the deep indigo best friend too. He also has a problem with your husband too."

"Everybody seems to have problems with Sukuna; I'm unsurprised." Amusement dances across your lips, "How long are they planning to stay?"

"Approximately up to three weeks since they did get an invitation from Sukuna." Now that made you raise an eyebrow.

"Guess invitation isn't what is going in their mind too; nobody comes here in Sukuna's land with no pure thoughts since he is the most sought after when it comes to wealth. And revenge." You then un-latch your arms and pat Yuichi's biceps. "I'll approach them in my time, but keep an eye on them."

Your servants all scamper away when Sukuna walks through the hall; they all refuse to look up but still greet him in acknowledgment. But the one that felt like they were getting a heart attack was the one who was your spies. Sukuna had come to pick you up for dinner quite early. They all gave each a look to see who would intercept him. There was a back-and-forth motion of 'No, you' between the servants. But it wasn't until Sukuna positioned himself in front of them they all hesitantly looked up.

"L-Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) is still resting." One squeaks out in fear; despite being hired by you, they still fear Sukuna.

"Move aside," he commanded.

"She wishes not to be disturbed, My Lord." The same person quickly interjected.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, "Do you wish to die?" He glowers down at them, and they all shrink back. "Now. Move. Aside." Sukuna said each word with heavy and daunting syllables, and the servants sidestepped demurringly. If their heart could leap out of their chest, this would be the best time.

Before Sukuna could open the door, it slid open, and there was you. "What's with all this commotion?" You don't need to look at your servants who tried to stop Sukuna lets out breaths of relief. Sukuna peaks over your head and sees books lying on your table.

Sukuna: "Thought you were resting, no?"

You: "I did; I woke up a while ago."

Without further ado, you try to bypass Sukuna, but he takes good of your hand. You wanted to rip it from his hold without causing much fuss, but he tightened his grip. "You seem well enough now; your colors are back." He took steps with you side by side.

"You are already starting to make me sick," exasperation released from your voice when you tugged your hand again, and Sukuna tutted at you.

"There's that tone that I've missed," he purrs, and if he's successfully getting under your nerves, he's doing a great job. You were clenching your jaws. "I've got something to show you after dining too." From his tone, Sukuna was rather excited; it was only a slight pitch lighter.

[excution field]

A heavy fur coat was draped around your shoulders. You don't understand why he brought you here right after eating. Most of all, the execution ground. You got a hand to cover the smell. Sukuna leans heavily behind you with his arms encasing you; somehow, this feels familiar, like that one day. Once again, you attempted to shrug him off, but it always made him want to be closer to you.

There was fresh blood over the dried blood; even the stench of death couldn't be erased from this place. You never really visited the site; this was the first time in five years you had set foot on the ground where innocent sinners came to die by Sukuna's final resolution. "I like you to be the first to witness something that could lead me to more winning conquest." He said, leaning his head low and letting his lips touch your ears; Sukuna's breath fans over one side of your face. You silently tilt your head to look up at him; questions linger in your eyes.

Sukuna was jittering in excitement, and this was something. You rarely see him like this; he can be proud and loud within his moments. This is something new. He's barely contained.

Sukuna lets himself be away from you, which makes you inwardly happy. "Bring it out!"

It didn't take two frightening retainers to bring out a wooden craftsman box. Sukuna flipped the lid open, and inside, it was presented to be some long metal rod with wood attachments. You were observing not too far away from Sukuna. Sukuna lifts it out of its case and settles an aim. "Get the prisoners too." You recognize that black powder from anywhere when Sukuna pops the lid open and pours it into the opening of the barrel. Then he used a rod to push the powder more profoundly into the narrow tunnel before setting the breech on fire.

"What are you doing?" You ask him; somehow, dread-filled your chest when you saw three people lined up and tied to a thick wooden pool. You can hear their whimpers from where you're at.

"You'll see," was all he said; Sukuna leveled the weapon up and above over his shoulder as he aimed again, then pulled the trigger with a steady finger.

BANG!

The sound made you jump; you instinctively covered your ears in fright with your heart hammering, as did the people far and near to witness. Smoke came from the weapon, but it was pushed away and dissipated into the atmosphere by the wind. What you were looking at wasn't the weapon itself but the person tied to the wooden stake. Their head was blown clean right off, just from this distance where Sukuna stands.

Is this what he wanted to show you? The future? How it's going to be in his hand?

"Did I spook you? Sorry," Sukuna carefully put the weapon back into its case and walked toward you; he took your hands from your ears and slotted them into his own. Your eyes wouldn't move away from the headless corpse; it was stuck wide open, witnessing the scene. It wasn't until you blinked again and pulled your hands back from his hold then your curiosity overtook.

You: "What did you do to them?"

Sukuna: "It's obvious what I did, didn't it?"

You: "Yes, you did. I'm asking what kind of weapon was that."

Sukuna glances over his shoulder before covering the view by stepping to the side when you try to take another look. "I must admit, the Portuguese did come with something this time. It's a Matchlock rifle. It's one of the prototypes, not permanent yet."

"A rifle? You can kill someone from this distance?" Your furrowed brows and contorted face of confusion almost make Sukuna lose composure. This is undoubtedly the first time in a while that you have been interested in something and was willing to talk with him, without sassing back, of course.

"Even further, too," Sukuna confirm. "But like I said, this is just a prototype, not yet decided. I want to talk to the Portuguese and have a room ready for one of their men to stay behind and modify the rifle with me."

You: "Why modify it when it's already deadly enough as it is?"

Sukuna: "Not deadly enough to my liking."

You were back to your room and became a sitting duck again. 'If Sukuna could get that weapon, then we're screwed.' When evolution for weapons couldn't get any better or worse, you almost felt worried. Sukuna would indeed be able to conquer land much more and faster, but with that rate, even the death of others he's going to take isn't going to remain stagnant anymore.

More bloodshed and the lives of others will continue to bleed over this land of Japan.

"Get this letter to Yuichi as fast as possible tomorrow during your shift outside; we need information." You fold the letter with deft hands and give it to a male retainer. "Be careful."

"Lady (Name), you have a gift from Sultana Aida." Yumi hands you a box, and it is wrapped neatly. "It was sent earlier when you were in the...field."

You took the box and unwrapped the red sash around it. Sultana Aida has sent you self-care items, especially body oil, and cream. The scent was sweet and fresh, not overpowering enough to give you a headache. The oil inside the clear bottle was in a rich hue of gold, and the body cream was sealed tightly in a jar too. Sultana Aida had a penchant for making perfume and women's essential needs. You met them over a year ago during a foreign meeting.

"Send a gift back to her." You told Yumi, who nodded and went outside to where there is a room where you store all your possession and gifts.

[night time]

There was a fluid snap of your doors being open and closed; the person who always comes into your room as they please is Sukuna himself. Through the bronze mirror, you could see Sukuna in his loose attire, which exposed the skin of his partial chest once he was close enough to where the lantern light could reach. You applied the body cream you received today to your neck before Sukuna settled himself behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and chin upon your shoulder.

You froze for a quick second. Sukuna closes his eyes in bliss to take in the scent. "This smells nice." Even if he notices your discomfort, he doesn't care at the moment, not right now. He nuzzles his nose closer until it presses against your neck, and the warm breath of his seeps through your skin and into the thinness of your night clothes. You close the lid over your body cream and set it aside.

"What do you want?" Your eyes remain on the mirror, which shows how relaxed Sukuna is; he got you in between his legs as they were propped up to where his knees were bending. There was a deep inhale from him.

"I can't even be here in my own home?" He inquired, "I'm here to spend the night with you." That made you decisively rip his arm off around your waist.

"No, you're not," you shot back and marched away from him to create a distance. "You have plenty of women in your harem who wanted to spend time with you," on the other side of the room, you defiantly look at the man, who gives you a lop side grin.

"I'm not bedding you, not right now." Sukuna restates your thoughts, "Just sleeping side by side." Your face was stoned, but it was enough for Sukuna to tell that you didn't believe him when your brows twitched. There was a 'huh' from you, and you were gunning for the door, and in a flash, Sukuna had you in his embrace again. Another momentarily struggle from you when you start to kick and tell him repeatedly to let you go. "Don't," he whispered huskily into your ear, "I won't do anything, I promise." The man carried you by the waist with both arms and settled down with you in a slump onto the large futon.

Sukuna loosened his arms, and you slithered away to the other side of the bed and got under the cover with your back turned to him. He wanted to push the boundaries, but he wouldn't. Getting under the surface, too, he remains still watching the slope of your curves highlighted by the sheet and your back rising and falling. Sukuna gathered your hair that was pools around the gap in between you both and played with the ends; he let them loop around his forefinger before running a thumb over the silk feeling of it. He then brings the strands to his lips and kisses them to bid good night to you.

Then the light went out.

You roll over in bed and bring the blanket under your chin to snuggle in deeper. But why did something feel heavy around you? There was difficulty opening your eyes, and when you did, sleep didn't completely fade away as drowsiness was still evident. If it weren't for the hand patting your back to lull you back to sleep, then you would've done so. "Go back to sleep." With a heavy grave tone that slinks into one of your senses, the haze of sleep washes away. Angling your head up, you see the fondness in Sukuna's eye and push him away in shock with an 'ack,' and Sukuna only rolls onto his back in bed. The man almost laughs at your reaction. Quickly sitting up in bed, you didn't realize how bright the room was when your face was scrunched up and brought the bed sheet up to your chest. Even outside was quiet.

Sukuna almost forgot you make so many faces during sleep and even when you wake up, although not this much. There was a yawn from you as you covered it with both hands, then you swept your hands through your hair. "It's almost near ten if you're wondering." He repositioned himself again on the futon, laying on his side with one leg propped up while he used one hand to support his head under his chin.

"Get out," voice groggy; you stood up from the bed to prepare for the day, but Sukuna reached across the bed and brought you back down.

"You should sleep in more; you look adorable when sleeping." Sukuna teases you, and by instinct, you try to tear your wrist away, but this further fuels him to bring you into his arms and lock you up. Cradling you, he brushes a few strays of hair out. The push and pull you both had is almost desirable to other women in the harem. Sukuna in the morning looks different, nearly too humane for your liking. When he brushes the hair aside, he lingers his hand on the apple of your cheek and brings his lips to kiss the top of your head. Your reaction was like a cat sprayed with water, always struggling. "I almost forgot; good morning to you too." The body scent you had acquired sticks to you so well that it is only what pheromones entirely throughout the night. Maybe this is the scent he likes, besides your natural scent.

"I took some time off from my affairs and decided to tend to you." If you look offended, you do indeed; anything he does for you sounds like an offense. The foreign topic of him trying to soften you up always seems helpless, but Sukuna has time to try everything; a man like him is never out of ideas.

"I don't need you to," glaring at Sukuna, his smiles widened even more, and you took the liberty to push his face away when he closed up again with your other free hand.

[afternoon]

He was serious when he said he wouldn't leave you alone. You wanted to be by yourself, but he made it difficult. Not only had he dismissed everyone who served under you and told them that their service wasn't needed for the day, but he was also hand-hogging you.

Sukuna grabs your hand, and you forcefully pull it away; he does it again, and you repeat it. This childish play continues until he grasps it tightly, forcing you to walk side by side. "Let go." You wiggle your hand, trying not to lose composure, and Sukuna swiftly plays with your fingers and separates them from interlocking his with yours to tighten the hold.

"No," that one-word answer from him had you wish you could disappear into the air magically. "I made a promise, and I intended to keep it." Sukuna brings you even closer as you bump into his arm.

You both were walking to nowhere, only letting your feet guide you and him around the fortress ground. It wasn't until Asuna's head appeared in your view that Danzo's tugged his mother's hand to tell his mother he wanted to visit you quickly.

"Danzo?" You call from a few feet away, and the little boy brightens. He lets go of Asuna's hand and runs toward you at full speed, and knocks himself into your legs. Danzo smiles happily at you, and you use your free hand to pat the boy's head. Asuna greeted you and Sukuna while lingering where she stood. Her eyes trail to your and Sukuna's hands which are interlocked tightly. As a spectator, the scene ahead of her almost makes it seems like a perfect family of three should be if Danzo were yours, even though you were awkward in showing affection to Danzo in front of Sukuna. She kept seeing you side-eying the taller man, who was observing every millimeter of interaction. Asuna's son was very fond of you during the first meeting, even if he had misunderstood you for being a character from a book. Although you don't mind interpretation, you were rather genuine in your exchange with Danzo.

"Have you been good?" You readjust the multiple layers of collars of Danzo's clothing, fixing any creases. Danzo nodded rapidly with a hum.

"Use your mouth," Sukuna spoke up, and you again side-eye him. Danzo's little body tensed up at the sound of his father. You pretended to wiggle your hand in Sukuna's and elbow his side purposely, and he saw a subtle disapproving eye and a frown from you. You were peeved with his tendencies. Why be a grown man picking on a child, especially his own? Even his half-brother was treated almost the same.

Before you can open your mouth to comfort the child, multiple voices enter the yard. Out and emerge from the corner is Eisha with her daughter and Sena accompanying the crown matriarch along with a few minor concubines. Everyone was locking eyes with each other and stopped their idling talking. Eisha (along with Sena) picked up on how close you were to Sukuna, and a knot formed in her chest when the apparent physical contact of hand-holding was the first thing she saw. A tight-lipped wry gambol set on her lips as she greeted Sukuna and ushered her daughter, Eri, to do the same, so the rest followed suit. But her eyes flickered to Danzo's last second; he was also close. Eisha knew that Asuna's son wasn't a thought in Sukuna's mind as he was just one of the many children he sired. Still, it tickles her interest why he was so close when her daughter wasn't granted the same physical closeness but a mere glance.

"Greetings Lord Sukuna/ Father." Then the rest greeted you, besides Eisha, due to ranking. You give the rest acknowledgment with a thin nod and adequately greet Eisha only. "What brings you all out here, Lord Sukuna?" She inquires with pique curio sitting at the back of her mind.

"Thought it would do Lady (Name) good for some fresh air." Then Sukuna turns the question to Eisha, "And what are you doing out here? You are frail and susceptible to the cold, which could worsen your health."

"I'm glad that you ask Lord Sukuna," she then pulls Eri forward in front of her by the hand gently. Almost as if she wants Sukuna to acknowledge the child. "I came out here with Eri for a walk after her studies." There was only a flat 'oh' from Sukuna, and from how he sounded, it lacked interest. Even Sena picks up on the tone, and that pricks a nerve. If Sukuna doesn't even care about her two previous children, then why would he care about Eri at all? Even in your presence, he doesn't seem to show filial affection towards them.

"I see; carry on with your walk then." Sukuna quickly dismissed them, but Eisha wasn't willing to let go.

"If I could, would Your Lordship, Lady (Name), and Concubine Asuna allow us to join your route?" Eisha wouldn't allow you and Asuna to be alone with Sukuna. And behind her back, she made a hand sign which the lower-ranking concubines understood and made a quick excuse to leave the yard. So now that only leaves her, Eri, and Sena. What Eisha did, didn't escape Sukuna's vision; that only made him take a deep and intolerable sigh inwardly.

All he asked for was one day with you without interruption.

For Asuna, she thought this timing couldn't be any worse with the visible tension brewing. She could tell that Sukuna's mood had floundered a bit since, after all, he was only out here to be with you. Then she focused on you, which she could say for once; your mood seemed to be in sync with Sukuna, although you wanted to get rid of him.

Two weeks later, two figures on separate horses rode up and stopped by the entrance.

"So this is Sukuna's mighty castle, huh?" Mugetsu's keen eyes search every nook and cranny of the building to see how well the fortress is built. Then there's Totsuwa, who already feels the regret setting in. He only accepted the invitation out of sheer impulsiveness and hatred for the pink hair man, and now the feelings somehow dissolved once he made it to Sukuna's Hell doorstep. It was easy for Totsuwa to imagine himself slaying the demon and reclaiming all his honor, power, and glory that Sukuna had muddled; he even talks significantly about it in his drunken stupor at an inn a week back.

"Don't be a chicken now, Iriyu," Mugetsu teases his best friend, "we might be able to learn more about our enemy." Somehow that doesn't sound comforting to Totsuwa, even when their tone is meant to lighten him up.

Getting off their horses, they handed the reins to a stable boy and looked for someone with deep pink and white hair. It wasn't hard to spot them when they were wearing their white garment. "Hello, Lord Mugetsu and Lord Totsuwa; I am Uraume, Lord Sukuna's retainer." They greet the two men with a proper bow, "If you would please follow me, I'll guide you two."

Mugetsu tapped Totsuwa's arm a few times, "They look pretty," he whispered, eyeing Uraume's back, "if only I wasn't married and they weren't your buddy's retainer, then I would've gotten them."

"Please, for the love of God, shut up!" Totsuwa whispers right back to his friend. "You always say that to every pretty woman you walk by!"

Mugetsu: "I can't help it, though."

[sukuna's office]

"Whoa..." Surprise color Mugetsu and Totsuwa when they saw not just the room but you seated a foot away from Sukuna. Rumors about the favorite wife do hold.

"Stop ogling at my wife," the pink-haired man snapped, brows drawn together into a scowl with the corner of his lip quirking up, and a tongue click could be heard. Sukuna wasn't sure why you insisted on being here; he would let you join any other meetings, but why this one? He doesn't know. There was a smidge of hesitation presenting at the back of his mind even though he tried to push it away logically; it always came back up. However, Sukuna wouldn't let it show. During the last two weeks, you and he had an on-and-off time together, the same usual push and pull. Still, you somehow had inserted yourself into his schedule willingly today with the promise of being interested in politics.

Sukuna had warned you it would be boring to dissuade you from this meeting, but you brought up a point, "You were the one who allowed me to visit your meetings, but now you won't let me?" Point taken, and now here you are. In the logical aspect, this allows Sukuna to spend time with you. Albeit not the way how he wanted it. But he couldn't brush away the nagging thought that it didn't feel right for you to be here.

Taglist: @sukunasobject @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy @pinkrose1422 @skepticalleo @please-help-therapy-needed @whatsonthemirror @krispsprite @loser-alert @saturnknows @samdric @littlemochi @akigoat @mxghostbee @rose4958 @shadowywizardarcade @huicitawrites @baji-keisukes-wife @choso-wifey @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @sanderaen @peonnnny @tiredlattes @waytomanyhusbands @whatamidoing89 @utena-akashiya @outrofenty @welcometodemonschoolfan @im-a-killer-queen @loverisa @bubera974 @sashaphantomhive @chaoticstrawberryland @onetwo123three @sxftiebee @bbrrose @gretel-gravain @slasherflickchick @floraroselaughter @kikis-art @21yumna @lifegosoana @sob4 @unknown-204 @dathoe @dellalyra @noot-noot-noooooooot @goldenglow149 @sukunabitch @guccirosegold @aesthetic-faye @kakeruko14 @roseki @levisbadbitch @divxnee @dvmekarina

974 notes · View notes

abyssruler · 2 years

Text

alhaitham x reader

cyno has been watching alhaitham closely ever since he arrived in port ormos. the guy is tricky, sneaking through alleyways and other parts to evade his sharp eyes because he knows cyno is keeping a close eye on him. most days, he doesn’t find anything suspicious, or at least, anything suspicious with actual evidence to back it up. after a month of being clear, he decides to ease up a little, just to lessen his load and because he doesn’t want to give alhaitam the privilege of having his whole attention. he might just go mad like kaveh.

and then one innocuous, sunny day, cyno spots alhaitham leaving a store and carrying something in his arms while not so discreetly trying to pass it off as inconspicuous. unfortunately for him, cyno will mark even a single sneeze from him as suspicious and possibly another plot to a greater scheme. so he follows him as quietly as he can, remaining unseen by staying in the shadows and lurking beneath large roots. it comes as a surprise when he finds that alhaitham isn’t deliberately ignoring his attempt to follow him, he’s utterly oblivious to it.

what could possibly be on his mind for him to lose track of his surroundings?

the answer comes in the form of a merchant from liyue standing beneath a stall of wares that look far too enthralling for any passerby to not take notice.

cyno hides behind a large tree as he watches alhaitham come up to you. he thought he was only there to take stock of your wares, but his suspicion turns into befuddlement when alhaitham stops next to you, and you, in turn, stop in the middle of talking to a customer to move your gaze to the man next to you and—

he has to take a while to process the sight of you opening your arms up with a teasing grin. and alhaitham putting aside the suspicious object he has in his arms to—cyno could almost feel his eyes pop out of their sockets—step into your hug.

the object he deemed suspicious earlier is picked up by your deft hands. the paper wrapped around it is ripped away, leaving a small array of flowers in a pot—and cyno really should have checked what store alhaitham went out of instead of immediately tailing him. you say something to him with a grin as you hold the pot between your hands. the man himself remains as stone-faced as ever, but there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that cyno squints just to catch sight of.

and then he sees you lean up on your toes (because alhaitham is ridiculously, annoyingly tall. it’s the only trait he has in spades against cyno) and place a chaste kiss to alhaitham’s cheek.

oh.

he thinks his brain just about stops working.

alhaitham reaches up to cradle your face with one hand—aaaand that’s cyno’s cue to leave. immediately.

he starts walking away, steps hurried like a pack of tigers are at his back. as he ruminates on the interaction he just saw, the only thing he can think of is how insane you must be to willingly put up with alhaitham.

#might be ooc but do i care? no #i thought kaveh being in cyno’s shoes here to be more fitting but we really don’t have much on his character so i didn’t choose him #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #cyno #gn reader #genshin shorts

3K notes · View notes

brightgoat · 4 months

Note

Hey hi! I’ve been an avid follower of yours for awhile for your Pucci art but, this green child au has me hooked more and more lately! Your art is stunning by the way, thank you for posting!! The final metamorphosis panel has me excited for the next installment you share ngl.

Anyways, I was wondering if I could ask a few things about it? Specifically, what has happened after O-moon came into the picture, and the buildup to part 13 and 14? Of course if you wish to keep things vague or don’t know, there’s no need to answer! I’m just curious.

When did Jotaro get alerted to the incident and decided to finally come around? Did he encounter Pucci first or Jolyne? After the revelations that O-moon revealed to Jolyne, how did her perceptions of her father and Pucci shift? Did Jolyne ever figure out what Pucci was most likely about to do to FF while they were cornered by him? Have you thought about how Weather Report factors into this AU at all (since he’s probably in prison at this point)?

Sorry for the bombardment, and again no pressure to answer these if you don’t wish to!

- Kimera

Greetings! Thank you very much for the compliment, hope the payoff to that comic was satisfying haha

So, I wanna keep things vague with this AU, telling the main story beats through images and short comics- not only cuz I like it that way but also cuz... I haven't decided a lot of the details hahaha-

Answering this via lore dump, hope you like reading, this can be just one of many ways it could've happened:

I imagined that while Pucci and Jolyne were out getting souls, Jotaro was studying whatever is left of Dio's followers, and eventually tracks down Pucci, and travels to the US. Perhaps he finds out Pucci has been tutoring Jolyne from Jolyne's mum (who knows maybe they reconnected).

Oh and yes, Jolyne's mum knows abt Pucci, but of course not who he really is.

During this, Jolyne has awakened the Green Baby and fused with it. Jotaro may even sense that something is wrong through their family psychic bond thing.

Jotaro, realizing Pucci is a step ahead of him by already taking in his own daughter, tracks Pucci down to the church and confronts him there, sparing no time and going straight to beating answers out of him, where's Jolyne, what happened to her, what's your plan etc.

I had this thought, that once Jolyne fuses with the green baby, she inherits a bit of Dio's knowledge, and it helps her realise she's been getting used by Pucci all along. Not only that, she inherits the will to go to Heaven, and it drives her to complete the plan, she's strung along by fate now.

Now obviously she feels betrayed by Pucci, but still sympathetic to him, and rescues him from Jotaro. She's conflicted, she's angry, the only reason both Pucci and Jotaro reached out was because of some bigger-than-her plot, and not because of herself. She doesn't know how much of what Pucci gave her was genuine or because of her use to him.

(had this idea for a scene that right after Jolyne rescues Pucci, all three of them are still in church and Pucci realises she's transformed, he yells for her to stay still so he can get Whitesnake to take whatever's inside her out, but as soon as Whitesnake reaches out, a hand bursts out, he thinks it's Stone Free and suddenly JUMPSCARE O-Moon jumps out at him and the reversed-gravity throws everyone away from her-)

The only friend she has left is FF, and yes she finds out what Pucci did to them, furthering her anger. So she drags FF along with her, they are eachothers' only allies here, and although FF doesn't fully understand what's happening to Jolyne, they'll stay by her side (cue the uhhhh 'oh jolyne gave me so many memories and memories make up my intellect so i owe her yadda yadda-')

Aaaaand as for Weather, yeah mf's still in prison lmao I haven't thought too much about him. I wanted this to focus on Jolyne and Pucci, though if I did turn this AU into an entire actual story, Weather would probably come up at some point. God knows how though lmao-

#green child au

252 notes · View notes

adriftmoonchild · 2 years

Text

symmetry; jjk (m)

pairing: gryffindor!jungkook x slytherin!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, hogwarts au, smut

summary: with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

word count: 10k.

a/n: i used to write on here a while ago but deleted my blog. since deciding i wanted to come back i figured i would start with what was my most loved fic. i tried to get my old url back, but alas, she was gone. enjoy.

-x-x-x-

One thing you had been certain of the past seven years of your education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was that the divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor was a big one.

Due to that fact, your feelings towards the students in said Gryffindor house were negative to say the least. You disliked many of them.

Most notably; Jeon Jungkook.

The cocky Gryffindor Seeker, who walked with a strut in his step and a smirk on his face as he boasted about yet another victory for his Quidditch team thanks to his ‘magical skills’.

Not a day went by that you didn’t imagine wiping that bunny grin off his face with a hex or two, his need for attention and praise the most frustrating thing of your day to day life; next to the fact that almost everyone in the castle seemed to fall for his childish demeaner and shower him with compliments and love.

It was about four weeks ago that you finally snapped and devised a way to mess with him; to take him down a peg and have people snicker in his direction instead of sending flirtatious winks or loud cheers accompanied with high fives.

What you didn’t expect, was that the magenta hair you’d managed to give him would somehow work for him. Unbelievably, it made him that more attractive to the female population of the school and gave him more opportunities to have a good night at the end of any party.

What you expected even less was to see that magenta hair between your thighs as the pair of you hid in a broom closet in a more secluded part of the castle.

“Jeon-” you sighed, hand twisting in his dark pink locks as his tongue worked in figure eights against your aching clit.

Responding with a lustful moan that vibrated through your body in the most pleasurable way, he quickened his movements, his fingers digging deeper into the exposed skin of your thighs.

About three days after his hair had been altered, he had come to the realisation that there was no changing it back any time soon; something you had made sure of. He was going to be stuck with that colour until the end of the school year at the earliest.

Three days after that, Jungkook had finally found the culprit, cornering you in an empty classroom to demand an apology or a way for you to make it up to him. Cue a long heated argument that somehow ended with his teeth at your throat as he lifted you up onto a desk and tore your underwear clean off.

After he gave you the best orgasm of your life, you had scolded yourself and sworn that you would never set foot near the boy again; until the next day when he somehow managed to seduce you into a quick romp in a secret passageway he’d found a year prior.

Lewd wet noises broke you from your thoughts as the all familiar tingle started coursing through your body; back arching away from the rough stone wall at your back, teeth clamping down on your lower lip to keep yourself from being caught in the act.

Legs twitching, your breathing came out in short pants as Jungkook rose to his feet; using the back of his hand to wipe away any leftover moisture.

“One of these days you’re going to have to give in and scream for me.” He mumbled, teeth scraping against the mark he’d left on your neck the night before. “You’re the only one who actually gives a fuck about what we’re doing.”

You couldn’t contain the need to roll your eyes as his lips twisted up into yet another smirk.

“Will you just hurry up?” Tugging him towards you and swiftly unbuttoning his trousers, you relished in the hiss that he produced as you grasped his newly freed erection in your hand. “Some of us actually have places to be.”

He quickly lifted you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist as your back hit the stone wall again, aligning his straining cock with your entrance. “Is today finally going to be the day you agree to taste yourself?”

Scoffing at his vulgar words, you moved your face away from his when he brushed his nose against yours; lips hovering far too close for your liking.

“You know the rules. No kissing, that's not what this is.” You reminded him. “Besides, you’re disgusting.”

Raising his eyebrow in a sneer, he grunted “And yet here you are.” as he sharply thrust up into you; a quiet groan vibrating in your throat at the full feeling of him deeply situated inside of you.

“The ends justify the means, Jeon.”

His eyes scrunched shut, your walls tightening around his length causing him to falter in his movements. “Whatever you say, y/l/n.”

-x-x-x-

Potions class had always undoubtedly been your favourite; if for no other reason than your head of house was the teacher and it was the subject both of your parents had excelled at whilst they had been attending Hogwarts.

The potential to be an incredible potions master was all but running through your very veins.

Until the headmaster decided that a method had to be created to better the relationship between houses. Apparently there were too many rumours at this point that the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses were becoming more and more hostile towards one another as the years went by.

That's how you ended up here, no longer paired with your intelligent housemate, but instead with the well known slacker that irritated you beyond belief; Jeon Jungkook.

Your breath came out in a huff for the third time in the past twenty minutes, the ruby red umbrella that he'd brought in with him poking you in the leg for what seemed like the twentieth time since class had started. “If you still insist on using muggle objects instead of magic against something as simple as the rain, at least learn how to store it properly under the desk.”

His attention having solely been on enchanting a piece of paper to fly over to his best friend in the shape of a small dragon, his eyes widened as he realised you had spoken to him; turning to you with a look that highly resembled a deer caught in headlights.

“Have you even paid attention to what we have to do for the next hour and a half?” You scoffed, arms crossing in annoyance.

“Of course.” He replied, flicking his head to the side to move the hair of his fringe from his eyes. “We have to make some kind of potion before the end of class.”

It took everything in you not to swear at him for his idiocy. “Well observed that we'd have to make a potion in potions class, Jeon.” You sneered, moving your book to the middle of the desk so that he could see what you'd noted down.

“Amortentia?” His face scrunched in disgust at the name. “Should we really be learning how to make this? Surely this is just a lesson for crazy ex girlfriend's who won't give up? No one in their right mind should be making a love potion.”

“We don't really get to decide that.” You couldn't fault his logic, also unable to see any benefits from a potion like this, having researched and found that several children had been born whilst one of the parents was under the influence of amortentia; the children were then incapable of love themselves. “But we need to brew this stupid love potion if we want to pass the class, so focus and hopefully this will be over soon.”

Pushing his hair back, Jungkook reluctantly started to help you look for the ingredients around the room. With his cooperation, the pair of you managed to finish the potion within the hour; the pearly sheen giving you hope that you'd actually done well together and completely the task without fault.

However, as the steam spiralled up from the cauldron and wafted under your nose, you suddenly questioned if you'd messed up.

Sure, the scent of lemon cupcakes made sense, as did the salty smell of the ocean that you always loved to visit as a child; but the last thing to register gave you pause.

You knew what the scent was, it was something you'd come across quite often over the past few weeks whenever your head had been nuzzled into Jungkook's neck to suppress the moans that threatened to escape from your throat.

The musky smell of his cologne was obvious to you now, which meant that there had to be something wrong with potion sitting in front of you.

And by the horrified expression on Jungkook's face, it was pretty obvious that he was having a similar experience.

“You must have done something wrong.” You snapped. There was no way that it had been you to make a mistake in potions class, you'd gotten top marks your entire education.

“I did everything you told me to do, if something went wrong then it's on you.”

The two of you stood in stunned silence as the professor glided over and proceeded to praise your work and explain how perfectly you'd created the liquid that continued to taunt you from it's place on the desk. “10 points to both of your houses.”

As he walked away mumbling about how the headmaster may have been right to merge the student houses in classes, Jungkook and yourself refused to meet each other's gaze as you pondered the new information.

The silence was deafening until your professor announced that class was over, both of you rushing to leave the room; which resulted in his umbrella prodding you in the ribs when he lost his grip in his haste.

“Ow. If that useless piece of plastic and metal hits me one more time I'm going to shove it up your ass, Jeon.” You growled, a fierce glare sent his way.

“Before you do that, you might want to consider removing the one up yours.” He snarled before quickly turning and walking out the classroom.

As you silently seethed, the scent of his skin lingering from the cauldron only worsening your mood, you stormed out of the room to find something to de-stress with; and it wasn't going to be Jeon Jungkook.

-x-x-x-

When students were asked what their favourite part of Hogwarts was, most would often answer with an anecdote of how much food they’d managed to stuff in their mouths on a night.

You were no different.

The feast set out before you was great; every single thing you could possibly imagine laid before you just waiting to be devoured. It was nights like these that you knew there would be a huge announcement, one that would lead to about 90% of the student body cheering for their headmaster; whilst the other 10% who hated being social would grumble to themselves about how they weren’t taking part in whatever event was away to be thrown.

“I wonder what it’s going to be.” Your friend, Reagan, pondered out loud. “I hope it’s not another contest, Gryffindor just get extra points thrown at them, everybody knows it by now.”

Wiping a stray crumb off a pumpkin pasty from the corner of your mouth, you dismissed her thoughts “It’s too late in the year for it to be a contest, it’ll be some sort of celebration to let the current students have some fun and leave an ever lasting impact on those that are leaving.”

“Whatever it is, the headmaster better announce it quickly.” She replied, daintily taking a bite of her food. “If I need to find an appropriate outfit, he needs to give me as much time as possible to prepare.”

“Oh I'm sure you'll do just fine.” Your eyes focused on the headmaster as he made his way to the owl shaped podium at the front of the hall. “Looks like you're going to get your wish anyway.”

With a raise of his hands, the great hall fell into silence. You had to admire the simple sign of respect, something that one could argue was much more powerful than all magic.

“You all must be wondering what is in store for you tonight, what grand announcement is coming that you were granted with such a bountiful feast.” He started, eyes sparkling over his half moon spectacles. “Well, it is with great delight, that I can tell you we will be hosting a ball. A dance to say farewell for the summer and good luck to those who will be leaving us this year.”

The different houses immediately erupted into ramblings of who they were going with, what they would wear, what music they were hoping for and everything else you'd expect with a ball on the horizon.

“I knew I'd need to think of a new outfit.” Reagan piped up from your side, turning to your housemate who wanted to talk colour coordination for the event.

You yourself, found your gaze drawn to the pink haired boy who was staring over in your direction. It didn't surprise you per say, the pair of you often finding a way to communicate with each other when the rest of the students around you were preoccupied; the excitement for the ball was as good a distraction as any.

The look in his eyes was clear and you knew exactly what it meant, that he wanted you and if you were smart you'd meet him in the secret place he'd shown you unless you wanted to risk him searching for you later.

When he'd first pulled you into the hidden passageway, you'd asked how he'd even found it himself; just to get a vague response about needing the 'right map'.

Regardless, the heat that instantly pooled between your thighs made it obvious that you were going to accept his offer without any hesitancy.

-x-x-x-

The air was thick with the smell of dusty books that hadn't been opened in decades, the library silent with the very few students who chose to study on a Friday night.

You often used it as a kind of sanctuary; hidden in the far back corner behind a row of tall bookcases that kept you out of sight of any others in the room. Thoughts were easier to process when you didn't have anybody around to distract you.

So there you were, reading a letter from your father that had arrived that afternoon. He was informing you of a potential match for your future husband, something that your parents were both adamant that you would agree to once your school life was over in a few months.

The sinking feeling in your stomach was new to you. An arranged marriage was a fact of your life that you'd been spoken to about for many years now and you'd always been okay with it. Your ancestors were all matched up by their families, so it wasn't outrageous to you that the same fate would befall your future.

But something had changed, though you didn't know what, and the idea of spending the rest of your life in what would probably be a loveless marriage no longer appealed to you. In fact, it made you feel slightly sick.

Footsteps running in your direction caught your attention, brief irritation washing over you as a mop of magenta hair appeared from around the corner of the bookcase to your left.

Jungkook.

Of course he would interrupt your thoughts at a time like this; how unbelievably inconsiderate.

He hadn't seemed to notice your presence, having twirled around to pear back to where he had appeared. His muscular shoulders were rising and falling swiftly while he panted, his breathing laboured from his brisk sprint.

“Please don't say you use this place for hookups.” You drawled, hiding the letter amongst your books as you spoke.

Jungkook twirled round, eyes wide with surprise as he acknowledged your existence. “Y/l/n. What are you doing here on a Friday night?”

“There's this insane concept, where you come to libraries to study.” Glancing down at your books with a look of condescension, you could almost feel him roll his eyes at you. “The only thing out of the ordinary here is you, Jeon.”

“I'm hiding, obviously.” He scoffed, giving a quick glance around the bookcase before sauntering over to take a seat next to you. “A Ravenclaw I spent the night with a few months ago finally caught up to me and doesn't seem willing to let it slide that I didn't fall madly in love with her afterwards.”

Squinting your eyes in disbelief, you asked. “And you thought the library was a good place to hide from a Ravenclaw?”

You knew that Jungkook wasn't the brightest student at Hogwarts, but you had figured he would be smart enough to understand that the library all but belonged to the brainy house of blue.

“Well, why on Earth would anyone think that I would enter the library?” he smirked in return. “As you just said, I'm the only thing out of the ordinary here, she'd never expect me to run to a place of wisdom for solace.”

“The end of that sentence almost made you sound intelligent, congratulations.”

His focus darted to the table where your notes were scattered, returning his gaze to you with suspicion clear in his deep brown eyes. “Intelligent enough to know you're hiding something. I have a feeling it's got something to do with the letter sticking out of that book.” Pointing towards the letter you'd haphazardly shoved into hiding, he leaned back in his chair with a look of triumph at your surprised expression.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You caught me. I come to library sometimes when I have to think and it might not always be education related.”

His features softened in concern. “Everything alright?”

“It's not something you have to worry about.”

The two of you sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, uncertain of what to say to each other. In all of your secret meetings, you'd never once had a real and honest conversation; that wasn't what either of you had signed up for and you weren't about to change that because of a letter you had been expecting your whole life.

“Careful, y/l/n.” he warned, mischief dancing in his eyes. “The look on your face is going to out you for having real emotions.”

As much as you tried to resist, your closed off expression dissolved into a soft laughter when Jungkook nudged into your side with a gentle smile. It looked like he may possibly be useful for more than one thing like you'd originally believed.

“You know, if you wanted a distraction.” His hand smoothed up the skin of your thigh to play with the ends of your skirt; shivers running throughout your body at the contact. “With an area this secluded, we could do something a lot more fun than study.” He whispered in your ear, teeth scraping along the skin of your earlobe at the end of his sentence.

Rubbing your thighs together, the sudden urge to have him inside you was immense, but you'd found yourself running to him too often now and this was a place for clearing your mind from all distractions; not falling into the arms of your most common one. Especially when you'd come so close to opening up about your problems to him.

“No, no, no.” You firmly said, pulling your books together and standing from your seat. “This is my happy place, you're not ruining it.”

“We could always make it our happy place.” He retorted, eyes widening with the realisation that his words sounded far more romantic and dating like than the sexual innuendo he'd been aiming for.

Your hand flew to your chest in mock flattery with a gasp. “Aww, are we going to start holding hands now? Are we going to pluck wild flowers for each other and make googly eyes across the great hall?”

“Okay.” He scoffed, rising to his feet beside you.

“Are you going to start writing poetry for me?” You asked, face contorted as you pretended you were going to cry with happiness as you turned to leave. “Is this when we announce our undying love for one another?”

Shoving your shoulder with a chuckle, he made to follow you out of the hidden spot. “Shut up, you know what I meant, asshole.”

-x-x-x-

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip to try and contain the moans that were fighting to leave your mouth, two of Jungkook's fingers curling inside you as he moved them to find the exact spot that would have you crumbling in no time.

“God you're always so fucking tight.”

Mind delirious with satisfaction, you hardly registered his words that were muffled against the skin of your neck as he sucked a new purple bruise into the crook. Dirty talk wasn't something you particularly sought after, but the gruff tone that came with the lewd words always peaked your pleasure.

“Fuck-” the word escaped you without your permission, ecstasy rolling over your body in waves as you reached your high; Jungkook grinding his clothed erection against your thigh when you bit into his shoulder to halt the sounds tumbling out of you.

“On your knees.”

Dropping to the floor, you helped him undo his belt and unzip his jeans, mentally noting that you would have to wear tights for the next few days as your knees scraped against the stone floor.

Hogsmead trips had always been pointless in your opinion, but more recently you'd come to be thankful of them. Most of the students would be out of the castle, at least the ones who would notice your absence. Which meant that you and Jungkook had a good few hours to meet up without raising suspicion.

Unfortunately, as exams grew closer, you had to keep it quick so you could return to studying.

His cock was firm in your grasp as you slowly swirled your tongue around the tip, Jungkook sighing with relief at the contact.

It was always the same, you would tease him to the point he would lose patience and throat fuck you till tears were running down your cheeks.

This time was no different.

Working your tongue along the side of his shaft, you heard him growl as a hand tightly wound it's way into your hair and brought you back to the tip.

“You know I hate it when you do that.” He rubbed the head across the parting of your lips a few times. “But we both know it's only cause you like my cock shoved so deep down your throat that you struggle to speak afterwards.”

The moisture that was already gathered at your entrance after your orgasm only seemed to worsen with his words, the feeling of it smearing across your thighs as you rubbed them together leaving you yearning for him to be inside you again when your walls clenched around nothing.

But you were unable to form a response to his words when he opened your mouth and shoved his cock so far that the head hit the back of your throat.

He groaned at the warm feeling of your mouth around him, freezing in his motions for a second with the fear that he'd cum too quick if he moved immediately.

When he finally started thrusting, your moans overwhelmed you, the sounds vibrating around him; his teeth gritting together with his attempts to stay in control.

“If you keep doing that I'll- hnng- I won't last much- fuck- longer.” His hand tightened to keep you still as his movements became rougher, the familiar sting of him prodding deep into you bringing tears to your eyes.

Your hand slid down to the junction of your thighs, two fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit. There was something about giving away all control that had you aching for release, your usually independent self being able to let go for a small amount of time.

Jungkook's eyes scrunched together as he realised what you were doing to yourself, feeling you swallow around the end of his length as you inched closer and closer to the edge at your own hand. “Fuck, keep doing that.” He panted, sweat gathering at his brow as he neared his own release.

With his cock shoved deep down your throat, it muffled your noises enough that you allowed yourself to be as loud as you always wanted to be. The cry as you came only audible to yourselves without the risk of anyone overhearing.

As satisfaction coursed through you, the feeling of Jungkook's cum painted the inside of your mouth when he came with a sigh; hands desperately grasping the back of your head as his thighs trembled.

His member left your mouth with a pop, your mouth staying open so he could admire the sight of your tongue covered with his seed like he always craved after such an act.

Swallowing every last drop, you rose to your feet with the help of the boy in front of you; legs shaky as you tried to overcome the lingering aftermath of your second orgasm.

“So I'm guessing you'll be skipping the ball.” He chuckled, tucking himself back into his jeans. “I think I might do the same, I'm sure we'll be able to find something much better to do.”

It was quite a strange topic for him to decide upon, though all you both ever seemed to do now was organise when your next secret rendezvous would be.

Adjusting your skirt so that it was straight again, you sighed, smoothing over the fabric with your hands. “Actually, I'm going with Jameson. My parent's believe he'll be a smart match for me or whatever.”

Focusing on the slight crease that was refusing to cooperate, you failed to notice Jungkook freeze; his mouth slightly agape at your words.

“Oh, so you are going? With a date?”

“That is what I just said.” Eyes shifting to his own with confusion, you wondered what his deal was. “What's wrong with your face?”

He seems to snap out of his daze at your words, hurriedly tugging his tie back over his neck. “Nothing, just amazed someone could have the patience to deal with you for that long.”

Scoffing, you peak out the door to check that the coast was clear. “I get that you're too dim to understand half the things I say, but other intelligent minds can grasp how interesting I actually am.”

“Yes, I'm sure your ass and your money have nothing to do with his interests.” He quips, leaning back on the wall in preparation to wait until you'd been gone for 5 minutes.

“How classy.” You deadpanned, shifting out of the door without so much as another glance back; incapable of seeing the confusion and self doubt the clouded Jungkook's eyes as he considered the new feeling bubbling in his chest at the idea of you with another guy.

-x-x-x-

The night of the ball came all too quickly.

The dress that your mother had sent you for the occasion left you uncomfortable as you left the Slytherin common room, a deeply low cut back allowing a breeze to sweep across your bare skin; the silver snake that hung down the middle cold as it caressed your spine.

Jameson had agreed to meet you at the great hall, if for no other reason than you wanted as much time to yourself as possible before you were forced to spend an entire evening with him.

“You look lovely this evening.” He greeted you, eyes bored and uninterested as you made your way towards him.

Neither of you had particularly wanted to come to this affair together; but much like other pure blood families, yours decided that a marriage had to be arranged before you left the school for good. Thankfully, they did agree that you should have a few meetings before anything was set in stone.

It unsurprisingly took only a small amount of time until your fellow Slytherin was making an excuse to leave your side, abandoning you by one of the large fireplaces to go and get you both drinks.

“This is interesting.” A confident voice sounds behind you, a finger grazing along the side of the snake at your back; shivers running up your spine at the contact.

Turning your head, you find Jungkook looking down at you with a smirk, his hand lingering on your lower back far too long whilst in public.

“I thought you weren't coming.” You remarked, shifting away from his touch to get some distance between the two of you.

“I thought you had a date.”

Raising an eyebrow in annoyance, you gestured over to where Jameson stood talking with his classmates. “There he is, now I don't believe we ever agreed that we could interact in public unless we were forced to by our professors, Jeon.”

“Nobody is watching us, y/l/n.” He scoffed, resting against the wall at his side. “As I said before, you're the only one who gives a shit.”

Eyes darting around the room, you noticed that he was right for the most part; except your best friend who was watching your exchange with narrowed eyes.

“You're not entirely right about that.” You muttered, lips turning down in a small frown. “If you're that desperate for my attention then you can wait until the evening is over.”

The smirk on his face grew with your words, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear. “Do I really look that handsome that you're not even going to pretend to resist this time?”

“Bold of you to assume I'm agreeing so quickly for any other reason than I want you to leave me alone for the remainder of this event.” You sneered back quietly, briskly walking away to rejoin your date.

Anger was swirling in your stomach, unable to believe the audacity that boy had in interacting with you where everyone else could see. However, a deeper part of you knew that the emotions you were feeling were mostly towards yourself and the fact that what he'd said was actually true.

He was wearing a black tux, his magenta hair styled to perfection that had most of the girls in the room staring at him from afar; hands raising in flirtatious waves when his gaze would linger on them for little over a second.

Jealousy wasn't an emotion you'd ever experienced before; having wealthy parents who purchased anything you ever dreamed of and your grades being high enough that you didn't have to worry about your future.

But watching as he winked at a Hufflepuff that had been pining away for him all year unsettled you in a way that made you want to drag him out of the hall and refuse to let any other woman so much as look at him for the foreseeable future.

“Looks like Jeon didn't manage to find himself a date.” Jameson scoffed, the envy clearly etched on his face as he observed the Gryffindor boy getting so much female attention. “I knew it was only a matter of time before others saw how worthless the half-blood really is.”

The others around you snickered at the boys words, but your mouth formed a pout as disgust settled within you; the topic of blood status never being one that you enjoyed conversing about.

Your eyes locked with Jungkook across the room, his gaze morphing into concern with the sad and guilty look in your eyes.

-x-x-x-

Standing underneath the arches outside the main entrance, you gazed at the stars as Jameson rambled on about his future prospects and working with his father.

His had had settled on your waist ten minutes ago, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin through the fabric and making you cringe.

“I agree that we make a smart match, y/n.” He suddenly proclaimed, breaking you from your thoughts as his free hand moved a stray piece of hair from your face. “I think it would benefit both of our families if we could agree to some form of arrangement to spend our lives together.”

He had leaned in closer, his eyes darting towards your lips with every word. He thought that bringing up your family's wishes would somehow convince you into being intimate with him, you assumed.

When his lips were a breath away from your own, you turned your head to the side asking if he would be so kind as to get you a beverage. “My throat is a little dry.”

“Of course.” He replied, the disappointment and frustration clear in his gaze, though he forced a fake smile. “I'll be right back.”

When he was out of sight, you released a harsh breath, bile starting to rise to the surface at the idea of having to kiss the boy you'd been coerced into spending the ball with.

A hand roughly grabbing your arm caused you to flinch, eyes snapping to the body of Jeon Jungkook as he drew you away from the ball; his face set in fury with loud footsteps echoing down the empty hall.

As he all but dragged you down the corridor, you shoved his hand off of you. “You can’t just drag me away from a date, Jeon. That’s not what we do.”

“Will you just shut up for like five minutes?” He fumed, backing you up against the wall at your back. “You and I both know that you found him a stuck up boring piece of shit, so quit acting like you were enjoying yourself.”

If you were to say that the fire in his eyes wasn’t having a heavy affect on you, then you’d be a liar. The way his furious gaze held your own had your breath leaving you in pants as heat pooled between your thighs.

The space between the two of you grew narrower, your mind so delirious with desire that you almost threw all of your rules out of the window; no longer caring if you were to get caught fucking in the middle of the hallway.

But then a door started to appear beside you, Jungkook wasting no time shoving you through it into a room that was slowly taking shape before you.

“What the hell is this?” You asked, eyes squinting as a bed formed in front of a large fireplace. “What have you done?”

“Nothing yet.” He responded, pushing you down onto the newly appeared mattress. “But I’m not about to waste a good opportunity on answerless questions.”

His mouth was on your neck before you could form a response, desperately sucking and biting as he moved to hover over you. “J-Jeon-” You stuttered, trying your hardest to keep your mind clear as your heart thudded in your chest and your thighs squeezed together.

“Please shut up.” He mumbled against your skin, his voice almost desperate.

Your secret meetings had always been quick and filled with an intense need, but you couldn’t recall a time that was this heated and impulsive since that first time in that abandoned classroom.

Jungkook rolled the two of you over, sitting up to have you straddle his lap; hands moving to your shoulders to slide the sleeves of your dress down as his lips moved over every inch of newly exposed skin.

As the dress was carelessly thrown to the side of the room, you pushed a hand through your hair; thankful that you hadn’t tried to do anything extravagant with the style.

Groaning at the sight of your body, Jungkook lurched forward to take a nipple in his mouth, tongue twirling around the hardened bud as you slowly grinded on his growing member.

“He wouldn’t have been able to treat you right.” He sneered, lips parting from your skin with a small popping sound. “You know I’m the only one who can make you feel this good; can have you trembling and eager for my cock to be inside you.”

You wanted to disagree, to curse him out and leave the room without so much as a glance back. But his hands on your ass driving you harder against his clothed erection was enough to keep you quiet; your forehead falling against his muscular shoulder as a lustful moan left your parted mouth.

One of his hands rises up to bring your face up to his again, forcing you to hold his gaze. “Say it.” He demanded. “Say that you need me.”

Eyes closing, you couldn’t bear the intensity of his stare, hoping that you wouldn’t have to answer him; not knowing if you were happy with your own answer. You shouldn’t need this; you shouldn’t need to fall back into the arms of Jeon Jungkook whenever you felt horny. One thing is damned sure, is that he should in no way ever have that strong of an effect on you. He was a meaningless hook-up; someone you should be able to leave behind no problem.

His hand moves around your throat, squeezing lightly to regain your attention, the pressure in your stomach warming to a point that you were sure he could ask anything of you in that moment and you would give it to him. “Say it, y/n.”

Your eyes opened to meet his at the mention of your first name, you never called each other by your given names, you weren’t that familiar. “I need you.” You breathed, head light with anticipation of what was to come.

An almost animalistic growl was all you heard as he rolled the two of you over once more to lay you against the pillows. “Say it again.” He ordered, hastily unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the defined muscles you had come to know by touch alone; hands tugging it over his head recklessly as he tossed it to the side.

“I need you.”

The remainder of your clothes were quickly disposed of, your panties exposing how wet you already were for him just from a few gropes and harsh words. “Something tells me you might be enjoying this.” Jungkook smirked, eyes focused on the damp patch you’d left on your underwear.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m leaving to go find Jameson.” You snarled, more than impatient at this point; a vicious yearning threatening to overwhelm you any moment now.

His eyes hardened, jaw tightening with barely veiled jealousy at the mention of your date to the ball. Within no time at all, his trousers and underwear had joined the rest of the clothing on the floor and his erection was burrowed deep inside you before you could utter another word.

Immediate satisfaction surged through you as he started a ruthless pace, urgent thrusts hitting all the right places; his voice rough and broken when groaning vulgar words into your ear.

This hadn’t been the night you had planned when getting ready earlier in the evening. In fact, Jeon Jungkook had been the furthest thing from your mind until the moment you spotted him glaring at you from across the great hall. The thought of him relentlessly pounding into you wasn’t something you had ever allowed yourself to imagine, unless he was the one purposefully creating that picture for you.

Suddenly, his speed slowed as the familiar feeling of bliss started to collect within you, your eyes widening when he brought his face up to your own.

Thrusting deeper inside you, his nose brushed yours as you felt your bodies press tighter together; his hips rolling against yours in the slowest rhythm you’ve experienced with him yet.

“Jeon.” You warned in a hushed tone, your gut screaming at you to move your face away from his before it was too late; before either of you had the chance to break your number one rule.

One of his hands tangled into your hair, foreheads pushed together, his lips a hair width away from yours; heavy breathing the only thing exchanged between the two of you.

“We can’t-” Your words are cut off as he finally joins your mouths together in a ruthless kiss, a wave of electricity flowing from your chest throughout your body; every inch of you tingling with a new feeling that you couldn’t even begin to explain.

Jungkook groaned as his tongue slipped passed your lips; the fingers in your hair tightening their grip whilst his free hand harshly gripped at the skin of your ass.

“Oh my-” He gasped, incapable of finishing his sentence due to the urgent desire to mark every last bit of exposed skin and make you sigh his name in delight.

The coil in your stomach tightened when you felt his thrusts lose their rhythm, alerting you to the fact he wouldn’t last much longer; your nails digging into the skin of his lower back as he pounded into you harder.

You were almost ready to burst, the pleasure you were feeling too much for you, your mind losing focus at the feeling of him hitting deep within you and brushing against the place that made you want to scream.

Fingers skimming up his back to twist into his hair, you stuttered out “J-Jungkook.” His mouth crashing onto yours once more to swallow your cries as the pair of you came together; ecstasy rushing through your veins in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

A few moments passed and his movements slowed to a stop; though his mouth still languidly worked over yours, his thumb delicately soothing over the side of your head from where his hand was still entangled in your hair.

Tonight had been different from your usual rendezvous. You had no idea where it left you; what it meant for tomorrow.

One thing you knew for certain, you were in deep shit.

-x-x-x-

It had been a week since the night that seemed to change everything between the pair of you; neither one having made the move to talk to the other.

The dark circles under your eyes made it quite clear that you'd struggled to sleep; that is on the the nights that you'd managed to fall into a peaceful slumber at all. But even those dreams unsettled you, filled with Jungkook and the warmth of his gaze from the morning you'd woken up after the ball.

He'd been wrapping a strand of your hair loosely around his finger as he'd watched you wake up to find that you'd spent the night in the mystery room that had appeared for the two of you.

That only lasted a few moments though, the anxious feeling that ran through you forcing you out of the bed and towards the door; tugging on your clothes as you made excuses of where you needed to be so early in the day.

And that was how the dreams always ended, with you glancing back to see the disappointment and rejection replace the warm glow in his irises when the door closed behind you.

“He's looking for you.” Reagan reported to you, studying the clouds above you as they darkened to a murky grey.

“What makes you think that?”

She scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head and raising her wand to create an umbrella like shield above her head. “Everyone knows by now, y/n. He keeps trying to act nonchalant but he reeks of desperation.”

After that night, you'd finally caved and admitted to your best friend what you'd been involved in the past couple of months. Much as you'd expected, she'd been disgusted with the whole thing, commenting on what your parents would think and how he wasn't the kind of guy you were meant to go for; something you'd been aware of the entire time.

“Anyway, I just thought you should know.” She sighed. “You've been acting strange recently, I think it would be beneficial for you to figure out what he wanted.”

You didn't have time to respond to her before she gracefully walked off into the rain that had started to fall. She had a knack for making semi-dramatic exits, always needing to have the last word and leave others reeling from the conversation.

Searching through your pockets, you grumbled to yourself as you realised that you'd left your wand in your room; having just had muggle studies where it obviously wasn't needed. You cursed the school for adding it to your timetable.

“Look whose muggle object is suddenly coming in handy.” You heard from beside you, a bright red umbrella hovering over your head in preparation of leading you out from your shelter. “You need some help getting back to the entrance hall?”

Eyes shifting to meet Jungkook's, you faltered for what to say. Usually you would reply with a snarky comment that would have him rolling his eyes and either walking away from you or leading you to a secluded area.

But the look he was giving you was something you weren't used to. His feet shifted, teeth slightly biting into his bottom lip that conveyed he wanted to say something to you but didn't know how to word it.

“You're lucky I'm so hungry for lunch.” You muttered, shifting closer to him in the hope that you could save your shoulder from being soaked as the pair of you started your trek to the main area of the castle.

The silence that accompanied you was uncomfortable to say the least; your fingers fiddling with the strap of your bag to try and help you focus on anything but the close proximity and unsaid words of the boy beside you.

His footsteps halted, not giving you any time to react before he was grasping your arm and turning you to face him. “What would you say if I told you I had feelings for you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, or maybe it stopped completely, you couldn't tell at that point. The only thing you were sure of was that you felt like time had stopped, his expectant gaze doing nothing for your trembling hands.

“Jeon-”

“Jungkook,” he corrected. “You used it the other night, you don't get to revert back.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you weren't entirely sure how to answer his question. It went against everything you had agreed all those months ago; then again, there wasn't exactly a rule you hadn't broken at this point.

“Jungkook.” Your voice cracked, incapable of stringing a coherent sentence together.

He rubbed a hand over his face, the bags under his eyes indicating that he'd had just as many restless nights as you. “Listen, I don't know when it happened, I don't know why it happened... But it did.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, his gaze to intense for you to handle.

“I have feelings for you, y/n.” he explained. “Honestly, I was terrified of telling you, but I wouldn't be a Gryffindor if I couldn't face you and I'm sick and tired of losing sleep over this.”

“That's not what this was meant to be.”

As your eyes locked with his at your small words, you registered the disappointment that overcame his features; eyes veiled with what you could only guess was hurt.

“Yeah, I know.” His feet shuffled against the wet floor, the heavy rainfall creating puddles around the pair of you. “I get that, I do. But I think we both know it's not just me that feels something.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

He scoffed, eyes turning almost harsh. “Yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn't have avoided me this whole time, you wouldn't look just as tired as I do and you sure as fuck wouldn't be looking as guilty as you do now when you're attempting to reject me.”

Your arms crossed across your chest, gripping at the fabric of your jumper with the need to hold onto something. “I don't know what you want me to say.”

You hated this, acting so meek and pathetic in front of him; in front of anyone.

“Just tell me the truth.” He softly demanded. “Tell me that you feel the same, tell me that what happened the other night was different for the two of us and that it actually meant something. Tell me that if I tried to kiss you right now that you'd want me to.”

The distance between the pair of you had dwindled with his short speeches, leaving you caught in his gaze as his eyes pleaded with you to give him what he wanted; what you both wanted.

But you couldn't.

Your parents would never allow such a thing, you had a duty to the family name to go through with your soon to be arranged marriage and the life that would come with that. They would never accept any kind of relationship with a Gryffindor half blood that had no desire for a career within the ministry.

“I can't.”

Though your words came out in a whisper, he heard them loud and clear; he knew the reason too. Drawing away from you he shook his head in disappointment, turning to walk away in dejection.

“When you figure out what you really want, come find me.” He grumbled, shifting away from you and towards the castle, the red umbrella sheltering him from the light drizzle the rain had become.

Stood staring after him, you thought back to the day in the library and the light feeling you had when he'd managed to make you smile on an afternoon you'd been lost in doubt and misery; a feeling that had come back tenfold in the past few minutes.

This was for the best, the arrangement between the two of you had to come to an end at some point; this was an easy break.

At least you hoped that it was.

-x-x-x-

There was only a few more days until the end of the school year.

A few more days before you would return home and never set foot in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ever again.

So you were concerned when a letter arrived from your parents when you were sat eating breakfast. Surely anything they had to say could wait until you were back in their house?

Using a knife to break the family wax seal that held the envelope in place, you opened to see a few words written in your mother's handwriting peaking out from the deep v.

they've agreed to have you betrothed to their son

It was as though someone had punched you in the gut, your breath leaving you in one harsh blow. You almost couldn't bring yourself to read the rest of the letter, but you had to make sure that what you believed was true.

And it was.

The Jameson family had come to an agreement with your own that meant you would be getting married in a little over a month. Thoughts flew around your mind, making you dizzy and light-headed.

It all seemed to be happening all too quickly, you had only spent a few moments with him the other week at the ball; even leaving him behind to spend the night with Jungkook.

Jungkook.

The name caused a shooting pain in your chest as your mind drifted back to your conversation a few weeks ago. Somehow, the feeling of regret and disappointment felt stronger when you pictured the bunny smile that he'd let slide onto his face on the rare occasion he let his guard down.

Here you were, reading over the words that sealed your fate as the future Mrs. Jameson and yet the only person you could bring yourself to think about was Jeon Jungkook.

There had been very few times that'd you'd been plagued with thoughts and worries about your impending arranged marriage, but usually Jungkook had ended up being there to break you from your thoughts and even make you laugh.

And yet you'd rejected him.

Glancing over to the entrance of the great hall, you noticed Jameson tormenting first years with a sadistic smirk on his face and your mind suddenly flashed forward to the image of the children that you would be forced to bear; how they would be treated by a man such as him.

Your heart clenched with dread at the realisation that the life you so enjoyed was suddenly being ripped out from under you.

With all my love, mother x

As the words sunk in, you wondered if there was a way for you to get out of this; a world in which your mother would understand and allow you to live the life you wanted. You'd worked hard for your grades and the vision of you becoming a housewife to a man who you knew you would never love made no logical sense to you.

St Mungos Hospital had accepted you in for an apprenticeship within days of you applying. Your skills in potion making had always had you picturing your career in medicine; often spending time in the hospital wing when somebody you knew was injured just so you could watch how they were treated. That was what you wanted for yourself.

But there was somebody who found you interesting enough regardless of your ambitions.

Jungkook had been brave to admit his feelings to you, even when he must have known what your reaction would be.

Crumpling the letter in your hands, you rose to your feet and left the great hall with purpose.

It was time for you to be brave too.

-x-x-x-

Anxiety coursed throughout your body with every step you took across the castle grounds. A part of you was relieved that you were finally going to get this off your chest, although a much larger part of you was annoyed that you somehow remembered his practice schedule without even trying.

The Quidditch pitch was quite far from the rest of the school, set far away enough that the players could practice without distracting the students who had to study for important exams that were swiftly approaching.

Three or four times on the walk over, you had found yourself considering turning back; the possibility of being humiliated all too plausible. It wouldn't surprise you if Jungkook had been playing you this entire time, just another one of his pranks against a Slytherin student.

His practice should be finishing up around about now, he was probably changing out of the uniform right this second and getting ready to stuff his face at dinner. What if they had finished early? What if you were wrong and they weren't even practising today at all?

Your worries were dismissed quite quickly as a few members of the Gryffindor team sauntered past you with looks of interest; no doubt wanting to stick around and see what would unfold.

The rumours about you and Jungkook had circled the castle in record time after he admitted his feelings towards you, so it was no surprise that his fellow teammates would want to find out first hand what was going to come from his declaration.

“He's in the changing room.” You heard a voice from beside you when you lingered in front of the doors to the entrance. It was a blonde Gryffindor who you'd often seen by Jungkook's side around the school. “Nobody else is in there so you should be good.”

Nodding your acknowledgement, you took a deep breath with the realisation that you had no other reason to put off the conversation you were about to have. But regardless of your nerves, you were determined to have it.

You found him tugging his shirt on over his head, hair still wet from the shower he must have had after a hard practice. It was an image you'd grown used to over the past few months, having been dragged into an alcove more than once so he could release the stress that came with being the Gryffindor Seeker.

Fiddling with your fingers, your deep rooted need for self preservation screaming at you to forget about your feelings and live the life you were born to, it took every ounce of your energy to stay still. “Hey.”

Eyes locking with yours momentarily, you noticed the grimace that appeared on his face.

The silence stretched for a few moments before you sighed and tried again, walking further into the room to approach him. “Your hair looks like it's finally fading.”

“What do you want, y/n?”

His tone was curt, your feet freezing in place as you flinched. You should have known that he wouldn't be interested in talking to you; it had been weeks since his confession and you hadn't so much as smiled in his direction. It was almost as though he hadn't existed to you.

“You told me to come find you when I finally figured that out.”

Stuffing his Quidditch uniform into his bag, he ran a hand through his damp hair when he turned to you. “Everyone already knows about your engagement, y/n. Jameson basically bragged about it all morning.”

He'd known before you did? Then again, it had been up to Jameson's family to decide on the matter, so they probably told their son before they even let your parents know the verdict.

“You didn't have to seek me out to reject me, I got the message loud and clear.”

Having grown accustomed to his cocky light-hearted nature, his defeated tone caught you off guard. Slytherins were always said to be cruel, to bring down those around them. It was something many in your house had tried to dispel over the years, but right now you suddenly agreed with it all.

“Wow. I knew you were dim, but this just exceeds even my opinion of you.” Sitting down on one of the benches, you feel his disbelieving stare on the side of your face. “Here I am, trying to think of a way to explain to my parents that I not only want to call of the engagement that they only just arranged, but that I want to call it off because I have feelings for a dopey Gryffindor and he turns out to be even more of an idiot than I already thought.”

His breath caught in his throat, your lips quirking in the corners at the sound.

“If you were smart enough to at least recognise when a girl has come to admit that you were right, then maybe I'd have been able to bring them around to the idea but now I just don't know.”

It was a very different confession than the one you had rehearsed in your mind the whole way there, but it seemed to fit the general tone of your relationship.

Taking a seat beside you, the warmth radiating off his body was a comfort to you, his light chuckle music to your ears after so many weeks away from him. “I feel sorry for the poor bloke.”

“You should, he really doesn't understand what he's gotten himself into.”

Jungkook tilted his head to the side, eyes dramatically squinting in thoughts. “I mean, she did spell his hair pink. I think that's a pretty strong vision for the future.”

“I think to gain the approval of my parents, it'll be green next time.”

“Don't you dare.”

Laughter came easily after that, his hand gently intertwining your fingers while rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

“So what does this mean?” His eyes stayed firmly on your joined hands to avoid your gaze.

“It means, that I like you and what happened after the ball meant something to me too.” you admitted. “Just don't fuck it up, Jeon.”

-x-x-x-

As the pair of you walked out, hand in hand, you contemplated the words you were going to write back to your mother before the end of the day.

“It's raining.”

Momentarily glancing up at the sky at his words, you pulled out your wand and pointed it at the broom in his hand, casting a transfiguration spell to mould it into something more useful; the bristled end sewing together to create an arched shelter as the broom handle shortened and curled at the end. The last thing to change as the object took form in front of your eyes, was the colour.

Jungkook smiled with a small shake of his head, mouth quirking up into the little bunny smile you'd come to admire. “A red umbrella?”

“I mean, with the fact it started off as a broom, I think I just managed to make your muggle object magical.” You smirked. “You're welcome.”

He gave out a hearty chuckle, free hand pulling you closer as his arm wrapped around your waist. “That you have.”

Lips meeting in a sweet kiss, your body felt lighter than it had all week; the possibilities for your future leaving you feeling content. Resting his forehead on yours, his magenta hair falling in between the two of you, you could tell by his gaze that he was thinking the exact same thing.

You should have pranked him years ago.

“This was still originally a broom, if it just shoots off randomly into the sky I'm going to charge you.”

Rolling your eyes, you used your wand to cast the spell that produced a shield over your head, moving away from his body and his need to kill a mood.

Was it possible to already change your mind and agree to the arranged marriage?

“Hey wait!” He chuckled, jogging after you with a grin. “I was joking, don't leave me.”

-x-x-x-

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts au #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts scenario

3K notes · View notes

ineylesian · 2 years

Text

NO LEAF CLOVER

─ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY X FEM! READER

PREFACE | this is continuation of another fic, “me, or him?”. it’s advised that you read that before this

AO3 | MASTERLIST | CODENAME: FANGS MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT | 8k

SUMMARY | you had made your choice, all you had to do was execute.

however, a small tinge of you knew that you could never be true to one side; and you would face the grim consequences of disloyalty in the vision of never resting nightmares and a smoking bullet.

WARNINGS | angst, smut, canon typical violence, vaginal fingering, a mix of rough and kinda soft sex, hard overstimulation, finger fucking, cum eating, make up sex if you could even consider it that, implied graves x reader (and a little action), biting, scratching, clothed sex, grinding, you make ghost cum in his pants, he does the same to you dw, unprotected p in v, cumming inside, thigh fucking, ghost literally fucks the shit out of you, but it’s angsty as hell, the mask stays on this time boys

AUTHOR’S NOTE | still can’t stand the people that say ghost is completely emotionless bro, like yeah he’s an edge lord BUT he cares about those closest to him and that’s how i portray him… my baby cakes fr fr

THIS WORK IS MEANT TO BE WRITTEN IN AN ADULT READER’S POINT OF VIEW. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

11:07 PM.

FUERZAS ESPECIALES HQ // LAS ALMAS.

“Exterior squad 414, report, over.”

Click.

“All good here, sir.”

Radio waves fell shallow as the remaining patrols checked in, leaving only the soft rattle of metal against concrete to your ears. A few seconds passed before the canister popped, engulfing the narrow exterior you stood in with heavy smoke, soon giving way to an array of green lasers on the walls. You ducked under the first two, gloved hands sliding along cold stone to fall into a prone next, just barely shifting past the harsh buzz after a few slow movements.

A quiet hum responded to the force of your hand on fluorescent red, leaving the last section of the underground tunnels in Fuerzas completely unguarded.

You crouched down beside the first corner in the system, pulling a flare from your pocket, setting it alight, and stepping away. A single spark shot from the pyrotechnic before it was crushed by your foot, the bundle of ashes seeping from the short lived explosion allowing you to trace a check mark onto the wall with your foot.

“Exterior squad 182 to Commander Graves, permission to send traffic?”

Your eyes narrowed at the panic steadily climbing each word, prominent even through static.

“This is Graves actual, send traffic.”

“There’s a hostile bird inbound, sir. Approximately 2 clicks away and approaching fast.”

A distant curse carried over the comms, followed by a short bout of silence save a few shuffles.

“Copy that, 182. Lock down and stand by for further instruction.”

Creaking metal followed your return to the surface, sliding a pair of binoculars out of your pocket, and peaking out above the fortress walls. The violent whir of fan blades led your vision to the southeast tower, clicking down on an effective zoom before holding the lens up to your eyes, spotting Price behind a sharp glint of light. A brief wave was shared between you before he raised a hand to his comms, giving you the green light to move.

“Cobra to Graves, what’s your location?”

“Heading to the FE General, be careful on your way over.”

Your fingers fell from the comms button on your shoulder, turning your attention to the array of warehouses ahead. A minute of dodging your own soldiers and you were kneeling beside a sequence of panels on the 4th warehouse down, sliding a screwdriver into each bolt while lightly prying at the edge. Once the metal surface plate popped off, you unclipped a small canister from your vest, tugging the cover off with your teeth before dropping it into the filter and fastening it back to the wall.

You stood back up at the cue of a soft hiss from the depths of the ventilation system, tugging yourself away from the building before it spread outside.

Price had called your part in their covert operation “The Fixxa Uppa”, point and blank. You had held your tongue at the lack of empathy he held for your situation, giving strict orders to kill any Shadows on sight, and apprehend Graves.

Quiet footsteps and sand hidden tracks led you to the Fuerzas Especiales General building, still pristine in coating and flying the Los Voqueros flag. You sighed at the recollection of Graves’ refusal to tarnish what represented your old allies, scolding your soldiers about reputation and the idiocy of raising an American flag in Las Almas.

The lower region of your chest pulsed slowly at the thought of Shepherd, now exposed and helplessly losing thousands of soldiers by the minute. Yet, your mind also flicked to the flip side: Graves, frantically barking out orders over Shadow Company’s comms while providing as much support as he could give. And you? Perhaps the rapid shift of your pulse with each waking step proved that you really did feel bad, but you and everyone that knew you were well aware that you despised Shadow Company.

Yet, you had stayed, fiercely protecting and slaughtering the men under you all the same. Every action for the sake of the man who you were set out to betray.

A heavy series of explosions coaxed your steps swifter, knuckles raising to deliver three swift knocks on the conference room’s door. The familiar rap pattern led the door to swing open almost instantly, your wrist being seized in the process.

Your eyes parted as you were pressed against the door, eyelids clamping down to adjust to the loss of light. Reopening, you were welcomed the slim, familiar outline of Graves, light pants representing the life you couldn’t see.

You clicked the flashlight fastened to your vest on, illuminating his face in a soft white glow. His skin glistened with a light coat of sweat and blood, hair disheveled, belt almost bare, rifle hanging carelessly from his side. Your gaze slowly drifted to his face, taking in the sight of his teeth fastened to his upper lip, eyes drilling into your own in a tight squint.

Any upcoming words of concerns that had planned on parting your mouth were washed away just seconds later, in their place the flaming sensation of Graves’ lips sealing over yours, swiftly, aggressively, filled to the brim with indecipherable motive.

Graves never kissed you on missions.

Yet here you were, inhaling the scent of smoke and pine on his collar while his blood dribbled down your chin, coating your tongue with metal as he brought your faces closer together. One of your hands subconsciously reached for the back of his head, keeping his mouth firmly planted against your own while he feverishly sank his teeth into your bottom lip, drawing a harsh breath from your nose.

The sudden blast of a breach charge broke you apart, followed by the rise of gunfire on the first floor. You frantically reached down, fumbling with your belt before snatching a case of 5.56 mm cartridge from the side, fastening it to Graves’ waist.

“They’re after you.” Your words came out jumbled, too focused on turning him towards the emergency exit just one room over. “You have to get out of here.”

Your efforts fell to no avail, however, as Graves was quick to pull your wrists down, rooting the both of you in place.

“I’m not leaving you here, Fangs.” He retorted, swiftly coaxing you behind a desk before crouching down, softly running a hand over your arm before falling to his gun. “We live together, or we die together. Remember?”

Of course, how could you forget?

The phrase echoed in hand with choruses of flying bullets and screams as a small group of your soldiers barged into the room, narrowly avoiding incoming spurts of fire. You raised your gun to rest against the desk’s surface, peaking over the side to ensure you were firing in dead areas. After spending the entirety of your mag, you pulled your rifle back, silently hoping they had noticed you flick your gun’s muzzle flash on.

An aggressive sequence of beeps fell close to your ears as you slipped a new clip into your weapon, leading your eyes to widen in shock at the sight of a semtex laid to rest on the surface right above you.

You threw your gun to the side before kicking Graves as hard as you could, sending him staggering a safe distance away and heading in the opposite direction. Bullets chased every fraction of your explosion-illuminated movement, forcing you to slide down on the floor next to one of your men.

However, you were only welcomed to the sight of glistening knife harshly jutting into the chest of your cover, spurting a hefty coat of blood onto your cheek. Your eyes widened in shock as the solider grabbed hold of the arm that held the blade inside of him, twisting himself and the attacker back into you, pushing away to leave him falling straight into you.

Sweltering winds kissed the hairs plastered to your face as the force sent you flying backward, crashing through the window behind you, fraying your skin with minuscule shards of glass. Your waist was roughly seized by the man on top of you, swapping your bodies seconds before you smacked against the ground.

You cried out in air deprived silence, hearing a series of cracks erupt throughout your upper region as the impact rolled you to the side, melding the world a fleeting series of red and white before fading to black.

—-

ONE WEEK LATER.

beep.

…beep.

BEEP.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Cobra… you hear me? Try opening your eyes.”

The words reigned similar to static in your head, each inhale pooling a deep ache in the front of your head. A jittered breath pressed it’s way out of you as your eyelids pried apart, leaving you to clear the atmosphere with a few blinks before looking to the side. On the side of your bed stood Price, sending an affirming nod your way while he set a change of clothes on the table beside you.

“Welcome back, soldier.”

You slowly shifted your way up against the pillows, wiping a hand along your eyes while the other detached the ventilator mask from your mouth.

“The mission.” You breathed out, eyes snapping to Price. “What happened?”

“Well, your accident was distracting enough to stop the mission before we could complete it.” He started, offering a bottle of water your way. “We had to drop everything to save you.”

He paused, gaze drifting to your watch, surface glass now split unevenly down the middle.

“I was hoping you could help us. Graves is completely off our radar, and we need to take care of him before moving in on Hassan.”

Your breath hitched, hand clamping down on the bottle of water resting above your lips.

“Our mission is kill on sight.” He continued, lips settling into a thin line. “But I’m willing to give him a choice before that. Join the Task Force, or die.”

You remained silent for some time, taking a swift glance at your watch before looking back over to Price.

“Alright.”

“Good.” He nodded, lightly patting your shoulder before standing up. “We’re meeting up at Flint’s in a bit. Join us if you’d like.”

Darkness enveloped your vision once his footsteps completely faded, hands growing clammy at the thought of even putting a hand on that watch. However, you’d agreed to it, and Price had certainly done you a favor by dropping the mission to save you.

Sighing, you leaned forward, legs kicking off the bed to stretch before you slid off of the sheets, wobbling slightly until your body adjusted to carrying your weight once more. Dim infirmary garments were swapped for one of your “civvy” outfit, leaving only the watch on the table as you slipped your right shoe on.

Cool metal snaked around your fingers, lightly securing hold around your wrist as you brought it down, following a soft click of worn silver and carbon fastened against your skin. You tapped on the messages app next, sliding down to Graves’ contact before placing your finger over it. Your teeth lightly rocked against each other at the blank canvas of screen before you, fingers hovering over the small keyboard as you thought. Ever so slowly, they began to move.

YOU

“Still alive?”

SENT. 5:48 PM.

Your watch sat idle as you pushed through the front doors of Flint’s, waving your hellos to Price, Gaz, and Soap before sliding into a booth nearby. Soft strums of an electric guitar fell to ring around your ears as a waitress walked up to you, setting a small glass of water in front of you with a smile.

A part of you hoped he didn’t answer. That this could all be over and you could leave Las Almas behind

But you knew it wasn’t that easy. It never was.

Minutes passed before a shadow passed across your table, the sudden halt of footsteps rousing your attention. Your eyes parted in surprise at the sight of the man now sitting directly across from you, setting a shot of whiskey on the table with a soft clink.

“Ghost?”

His eyes drifted up from the rim of his glass, locking you in his usual, hard gaze.

“Knew it’d take more than a fall to kill you.” His voice drifted out low, devoid of the gritted shout he adorned during missions. “Was worried you’d gone soft.”

Your eyes dragged along the upper region of his sweatshirt, stopping at a small strip of white that sat wrapped around his neck.

“You broke my fall.”

“Smart girl.” He leaned forward, lifting his mask up a fraction to take a sip of whiskey. “Antibacterial gauze works wonders.”

Your attention broke off at the rise of a buzz on your wrist, leading you to lift the device up while flicking it on.

2 NEW MSSGS.

Your heart rate picked up with each tap, fingers drumming noisily against the table as you waited for the screen to load.

GRAVES

Christ, Fangs, thought I’d lost you.

How are you doing? You safe?

“Cobra.”

YOU

Yeah, I’m okay. What about you?

“Cobra, hey, I’m talking to you.”

GRAVES

I’m good.

Still in Las Almas?

“Fucking Hell, [name].” You felt your wrist being snagged from across the table, pulling reality back to you in the form of an annoyed glint of narrowed eyes. “Stay on task. His location, that’s it.”

A lump pushed its way past your throat, following a shallow nod as you looked back down.

YOU

Yup.

Can we meet up?

You flashed the watch in Ghost’s direction, eyes knitted in irritation at the feeling of his eyes hounding every movement of your fingertips.

“Ghost.” You pushed through partially grit teeth. “I can feel you staring at me. Stop.”

A swift glance upward showed pure negligence of your request, his gaze seemingly burning a hotter trail into your skin than before, sinking uneasiness into the veins below.

GRAVES

Shadow Company has one stocked warehouse on the outskirts of Quilán. Tomorrow work for you?

Ghost leaned over to look at your outstretched arm, giving a curt nod at the message before standing up. You followed, fingers typing one last message before showing it to him and shutting the watch off.

YOU

6pm. I’ll be there.

—-

THE NEXT DAY.

5:52 PM. QUILÁN, LAS ALMAS.

Cool winds swirled around the barren expanse of the vast plain ahead, coating your hands in tiny fragments of sand. You stopped at the foot of a tree line, spotting two sizable warehouses peaking out of a fortress of barbed wire. The sight of shifting masses atop the towers flanking each side of the perimeter led you to place your fingers against your shoulder, tapping into 141’s comms.

“Be advised, multiple armed personnel spotted.”

One of your hands raised in a wave, earning the reaction of one guard before moving forward. You imposed a sickeningly faux smile at the entrance gate, earning a series of nods from the guards stationed there as they let you in.

“Good to see you, Lieutenant.” One spoke, motioning off to the larger of the warehouses. “Commander Graves wishes to see you as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, soldier.”

You broke away from prying eyes by rounding a corner, taking a glance around to ensure no one was watching before patching into comms once more.

“Larger warehouse in 2. Cobra out.”

The earpiece was shoved into your pocket, leaving you just one stretch away from the warehouse. Turning to face the front door captivated your spine in a frigid chill, rendering your blood cold in comparison to the blazing sand chipping into your skin. A sigh pooled from the depths of your nose as your gaze dropped down to the handle, hand reaching out to hover above it whilst you waited for visuals on your team.

Your watch flashed 18:00.

Soap poked his head out from the top of the warehouse, sending a thumbs up your way before ducking back down.

Okay.

A steady groan followed the drag of metal against the floor, illuminating the pitch black interior with marengo streaks of light. Your eyes traveled along the contents of the warehouse, eventually stopping to focus in on a large mass of crates and containers, and a thin shadow looming out of the side of them.

Through shifting shadows of grey and black, you saw Graves step away from an array of ammunition boxes, holding a finger up in wait as he fastened a few clips to his belt. However, his hand only dropped flat as he glanced over, taking in the sight of you with pleasantly widened eyes.

The last of your footsteps clicked against the vast space, rousing a shuffle instead as you stopped to look up.

You couldn’t bring yourself to smile at him. Hell, you couldn’t even speak, and he knew, arms stretching out to envelop your being, holding all of you against him like he’d die if he let go. Warm hands brought themselves up to grasp lightly at the back of your shoulders, allowing your arms to snake around his neck.

The two of you stayed there for some time, long enough to numb the soft movement of your arm running down his vest. Seconds passed before the safety of a gun clicked just feet away, shooting Graves’ head up as he let you go. The attempt of his body to turn around fell to no avail as one of your hands clamped around the pistol strapped against his vest, rooting him where he stood.

Price slowly made his way towards the both of you, gun pointing solely at Graves, allowing you to step away, tossing his gun under one of the nearby crates.

“You’re gettin’ two choices here, son. Only one of ‘em is gonna let you out alive.”

Graves’ mouth fell to rest in a flat line, hands leisurely moving to rest above his head. His gaze then traveled over to you, what was once a soft meld of blues hardened into something more practical. Then, he looked up, breathing out a quiet huff of amusement at the sight.

“Join TSF 141, or die.”

Price stepped closer, watching as Graves’ eyes lowered back down to you.

“Could’ve guessed you were playing me, Fangs.” He lightly shrugged, nodding up to the man crouching on the rails above you. “Big dog Ghost up there left a little something back at the warehouse, didn’t he?”

Your eyes narrowed. The knife.

“Make the right decision, Graves.”

“The right decision?” He scoffed, flicking a finger between you and Ghost. “I’ve been giving everything I have for you, only to figure out you’ve been fucking around with him? Now you want me to join you?”

“This isn’t about him, or any of them.” You snapped back, jabbing a finger against his chest. “You knew what Shepherd did to us, and you still chose to stay with him. How can you live with yourself?”

“You’ve got one last chance, son.” The gruff call of your captain rang out, feebly smothered against airborne tension. “What’s it gonna be?”

“Who was by my side the entire time?” Graves voice pushed out low, taking your finger and turning it to push against your vest. “Only you made that decision.”

A single, deep breath pushed its way from your mouth as you brought the same hand up, ripping Shadow Company’s insignia off of your chest, dropping it to the floor, and smothering it under your boot.

“It’s not too late to change.”

His head shook slowly, taking a step back from you before lowering his hands.

“Not for you, Fangs.”

The world before you sparked into a violent surge of smoke and fire as explosions broke out from above. Gunshots scraped against the ground near you as you ran, diving behind a nearby crate to cover yourself.

Only to realize the inside was fizzing.

You were sent flying backward as the middle of the warehouse erupted into flames, the sheer force of the chain linked explosions slamming your back into the wall. Air starved lungs desperately inhaled smoke, leaving your vision blurred and burning at the thickness of the atmosphere around you.

Your arms weakly pushed against the ground, pulling you far up enough to grab the side of a table, hoisting yourself to stand with a pained groan. A massive crash echoed from across the interior, shaking the ground below you and pulsing blistering waves of smoke against your face. Another followed shortly after, only leading you to assume the roof was collapsing, the shriek of stressing metal confirming your suspicions.

Raising a hand to your shoulder, you pressed on the your radio, using your spare hand to hold your earpiece to your ear as you ran.

“Price, Soap, Gaz-“ You paused, choking on a fresh inhale of fumes. “Does anyone copy?”

Silence.

You cursed under your breath, bringing a hand up to hover against your lower face whilst running amidst the shadows. Your foot kicked against a railing, leading you to blindly turn for the stairs, narrowly avoiding falling chunks of debris from the ceiling as you neared closer to it. The thin flooring shook under each of your footsteps, the section behind you breaking off with a sharp clang just after you’d cleared it.

Sucking in the ashen material of your arm, you broke into a sprint, heading for the first gleam of light visible. Your arms rose to cross over your face, shattering glass as you dived outside, stealing harsh breaths of fresh air from the sky on your fall.

You landed in the midst of a large bush with a quiet thud, breaking into a coarse fit of coughs and retches in a desperate attempt to clear your system. Once the haze of CO2 had swept out of your lungs, you pulled yourself out of the mass of thick branches and leaves, staggering up to look at the warehouse before you.

“Cobra, do you copy?”

Your hands fumbled for the button on your shoulder, tapping into 141’s comms with a sigh of relief.

“Good here, Soap.” You responded, pacing away from the destroyed warehouse. “What’s going on with the others?”

“Don’t know, you’re the only one I could reach.”

“We need to find the others. I’ll take the second warehouse, you sweep the outside.”

“Got it.”

You let go of the comms with a hum, eyes moving up as you approached the smaller warehouse. The sudden rise of gunfire widened your eyes, clear that it came from the inside. Your boots fell hard against dry grass, kicking up heavy tracks before you jumped on top of one of the ac units hooked to the wall, using the slight leverage to pull yourself up to the hanging ladder halfway up.

A fury of dying lights sparked against the air as you peered down through the skylight, running towards the edge in sight of a vent. Gripping the ledge of the shingled roof, you slid in through the metal nailed to the wall, boots softly thudding against a metal walkway overlooking the inside. Thinly strung lights dimly lit the vast area below, only giving way to the continuous reign of bullets clanging against metal.

You dropped down to the next section, dodging weapon crates and supplies before breaking for the staircase. Frantic hands unhooked the Deagle on your belt as you grew closer to the ground floor, spurred on by the abrupt end of shots from all around. Your hands laid to rest against the nearest railing, watching with wide eyes as a lowly flashing streak of red shot past you face, and to the far side of the warehouse.

One of your arms instinctively raised against the mass detonation of the semtex fused with boxes of mines, lighting one side of the warehouse up in a raging sea of flames. Tugging the safety off of your pistol, you jumped down onto one of the crates below, kneeling against the edge in search of any signs of life against the weak light of fire. Eventually, a shadowed figure crossed not far off from where you perched, leading you to scale the line of containers in swift apprehension, keeping your movements light.

Your teeth grit firmly together at the rising waves of familiar heat brushing themselves against your skin, the waves in pursuit forcing you to climb up a layer to breathe. Eventually, your target led you to a small, void area of the warehouse, charred black, and holding a slumped body against the ash. Your eyes widened at the scarce patch of white on his face illuminated by edging embers, your breathing increasingly erratic by the second as the quiet click of a gun’s safety rang out from the shadows.

Before you could articulate a reasonable plan of action, your feet were sliding off of the containers overlooking the scene, landing just above the shadowed figure with a harsh thud. The reaction to the noise was not sufficient enough, as by the time the gun was pointed your way, you had blindly tackled them against the wall, hand moving to hold their gun up as you slid the Deagle against their chest.

A crude gunshot bounced off the walls, crawling into your ears in horrid sight of the body pinned against your leg. You stepped away from the mass of blood pooling onto the ground beneath, watching as the lifeless body of Graves slumped against the ground, his blood sickly warm on your hands. The warehouse grew silent in your wake, save the faint crackling of burning wood, ever softer the drops of red liquid falling to mix in with the rest.

“COBRA, GHOST?”

The words spoke muffled to your ears, fighting against the deafening drum of your heartbeat pounding against every crevice of your being. A hand took hold of your shoulder amongst the scorching ripples of heat, turning you to face Price, who gave you a light squeeze where his hand sat as he took your gun.

“Good work, kiddo. Let’s get you patched up.”

—-

ONE WEEK LATER.

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.

2 NEW MSSGS.

SOAP

Hey, didn’t get the chance to see you after the mission.

I owe you one, big time. Let me know when you’re free?

YOU

Tomorrow okay?

The watch fell limp against your side, following the brush of a bag hitting the ground. A briefcase was placed against your coffee table, beside you an SR-25 waiting to be taken apart.

Not an ounce of pride swelled in your chest at the achievement of killing Hassan. The honorary medal that had been draped around your chest now sat idle on the floor, particles of dust beginning to settle over the bright coat of gloss over the surface. Deft hands worked in steady motions, pooling out breaths of focused air as you pulled the weapon apart.

Your mind had been elsewhere for some time, thoughts scrambled by dull static while you sat atop that building, sparking not even an ounce of a reaction out of you as you pulled the trigger. Instead of confirming your kill, you pulled the sniper back, silently disappearing as soon as you’d arrived.

The visions had been relentless. When you closed your eyes, you saw horrified faces and snow white bandages stained red, the scent of gore and death so evident, so real that you choked on your breath. And you saw yourself, watching Soap and Gaz carry him away, earning nothing but stale breathing from blood coated nostrils.

You’d been told he had a 15% chance of survival. That was, before you left to finish Hassan and the cartel. It was said that chance would rise to at least 70 with a blood transfusion. They advised against it, you were taking his job, steady aim was more important that everything else. Just a little missing blood could have thrown off your aim, let one of the world’s most notorious terrorists walking free after dropping a missile on the Pentagon.

You did it anyways, taking the gamble that the doctors wouldn’t tell Price. Guess it paid off well — well enough for the rest of the world, anyway.

A quiet clink shuffled against styrofoam as you placed the last part of the sniper rifle in the briefcase, smoothing over the scope with your hand before shutting it and flipping the locks closed.

It was one thing to be a hero.

And another to be a killer.

The vision of Ghost wasn’t the only nightmare that haunted you since it happened. Graves, the blood, his blood on your hands; the .50 round of your Deagle in his chest.

His funeral wasn’t special, at least from what you’d heard. Your failure to show resulted in a brief visit some few hours after, placing the Desert Eagle beside the small pile of tempered soil that covered him. Ironically enough, it had been more like a late return.. you’d almost forgotten the pistol was originally his.

The door to your temporary apartment clicked shut, leaving you to the garage, and a brand new Porsche, one of the many thanks of service from the military for your success in killing Hassan. If only they knew about Shepherd, the Shadows.. Makarov.

Almost 15 hours and 2 full tanks of gas later led you to the coast of New England, “Her lady Boston” as specifically named by Price. The TSF had a good majority of their American warehouses here, probably as close to the UK as they could get.

Your legs fell limp as you let off the brakes for the last time, shifting into park before leaning your head back against the headrest. A few stretches later and you were off to a small facility on the edge of the city, steadily welcome to the chirp of seagulls and scent of the Atlantic.

An automated door and a cool gust of wind welcomed you to the inside, nodding a greeting to the receptionist before heading for the lounge. Upon seeing Soap, Gaz, and Price, you waved, to which all stopped their conversation and turned your way.

“Aye, if it isn’t the infamous Cobra.” Soap snarked, ruffling your hair with a smile. “Welcome to New England.”

“There’s a whole lot to do here.” Gaz added, giving you a pat on the back. “Hope you’ll hang with us a little.”

Lastly, you glanced over to Price who had just finished putting out his cigar, nodding to you before pulling you into a quick side hug.

“Good to see you, kiddo.”

You breathed out a small sigh of acknowledgment before sliding into the seat beside him, setting your briefcase beside your foot.

“What have you guys been up to?”

Soap and Gaz glanced at each other, then to Price, who shrugged.

“We’ve just been laying low for now.” Soap answered, following a nod from Gaz. “Waiting for Laswell to dig up what she can on Makarov.”

“Shit, Makarov..” Your fingers drifted along the table, the image of Price’s face upon looking at the man’s picture popping into your head. “And Shepherd?”

“As much as I’d like to go after him, the bastard’s untouchable right now.”

You nodded, figuring going after Shepherd would be a waste of time in this state. You’d need a whole lot of evidence to even begin to prove his guilt, and right now, you had none.

“You should get goin’, it’s bad to keep a geezer like him waiting.” Price’s voice rose to your ears, motioning a finger to your briefcase. “Room 24.”

“Thanks.”

Wood steadily creaked under your shoes as you set off in the direction Price had pointed to, briefcase wrapped tightly around your fingers. The hairs on your neck rose with each step down the hallway, forcing you to look down while fiddling with the keys in your other hand. No one had seen him for days beside the doctors, and not even they had permission to say anything regarding his condition.

The sound of the key turning in the doorknob made you step away, running a hand against the clammy skin on your face before placing it on the door.

A hushed creak followed your first step into the room, streaks of harsh light from the hallway clashing against the dim world inside. Your eyes fell into a squint at the loss of light from shutting the door, kicking your shoes off before taking a few steps forward. Seeing as there was nowhere else to go but the kitchen and bathroom, you peaked around the corner to what you presumed was the bedroom, gaze landing on a partially shadowed figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

The sound of the briefcase hitting the floor roused his attention, bringing his features to the light as you flicked the nightstand lamp on.

Part of you wished you hadn’t. Maybe it would’ve been smarter to leave the briefcase and go.

You bit back a grimace at the sight. Your eyes shut momentarily, blinking a few times, unsure then if you even be sure you were looking at Ghost. Throughout all the injuries, all the years, this was the worst you had seen him, less harsh on the eyes, almost.. small. His gaze mirrored that of a sick child, taking in the pure look of visual disgust reflecting your irises.

You weren’t really disgusted, but it sure looked that way.

“Just came to drop off your rifle.”

The words came out in a simple, quick murmur. You turned to leave, biting back a hitch of your breath at the hand clasping around your wrist.

Damn, he was fast.

Silence was quick to latch onto the atmosphere, dripping an uncomfortable buzz into the hand that held you. Your eyes glanced upward, taking in the sight of defiantly cold irises stricken with something.. unusual, the very sight itself turning discomfort to panic.

“Why?”

You blinked up at him, confusion evidently spreading across your features. That question could’ve meant anything, especially now, you’d done a lot of questionable things in the past few weeks. Whatever it was had his eyes shot open, looking like he was seeing a reflection of himself in the mirror.

And maybe he was. Maybe you being here wasn’t good for him.

“Why aren’t you angry?” He grabbed your shoulders, voice hoarse despite the lack of words spoken. “Why did you save me?”

The pure silence of the world around you gave way to a sliver of a crack in his voice at the dying syllables.

“It’s my fault Graves is dead.”

“No.” Your hands grasped at his forearms, feeling them shake through his jacket. “It was my choice.”

Your choice. You said you’d chosen him, and you did.

You’d never anticipated a happy ending after getting closure, but this — this wasn’t what you’d been anticipating. You never expected him to say thank you for saving his life, but you couldn’t wrap your head around why he was looking at you like you killed him.

“I betrayed Graves, and I killed him.” You continued. “Wanna take a good guess why?

Denial flashed through the whites of his eyes, causing him to let go of you, rubbing his hands across his mask.

“Don’t-“

Too late. You roughly snatched his arms, tearing them away from his face before sticking one of your fingers to rest against his throat.

“I did it because I fell in i-“

Your sentence molded into a mere mumble as his right hand cupped over your mouth, his posture gradually folding with each waking second.

“Don’t say something you’ll regret.”

You could feel his hand jittering against your skin, giving away what his eyes tried desperately to hide. And you saw right through it, the anticipation stowed away deep beneath seas of lifeless umber, practically begging to break free. So you placed your hand over his, slowly prying your mouth free before folding your fingers against his.

“If that’s not what you want to hear, I won’t say it.”

When you break Ghost down, Simon Riley is an open book. Right now, his pages of vulnerability were on full display, allowing you to run a hand along his arm, stopping to squeeze at the shoulder. Upon hearing a quit hiss of pain push through his lips, you’d knew Simon Riley was fully yours.

“So, what do you want, Simon?”

A shuddered breath heeded your question, eyes screwing shut as you ran your fingers everywhere they’d go, stopping to rest at the hem of his sweatpants. When you shifted to move, his eyes shot open, grasping your arm to keep you there.

“You.” He breathed, drooping down to rest his forehead against yours. “Always wanted you, Cobra.”

Years of built up tension… insufferable hatred, snapped. Just like that.

Before you could continue to move, Simon broke out into a rather violent coughing fit, leading you to usher him to the edge of his bed. Your hand drifted down to his pants once more, lightly prodding at his clothed erection to alleviate the tension in his upper chest. Seeing as it worked, you pushed him further into the sheets before climbing up yourself, gently moving to straddle his thigh.

The groan he let out at the pressure almost roused a smirk from your end, yet you stuck to lightly dragging yourself against his leg. Your hand groped softly at his dick, watching as his gaze rose up to the ceiling.

“You like that, huh?”

A partially coherent “yes” made its way to your ears, the slight whimper in his tone causing you to bite back a moan. Your own arousal became evident in the partially damp feeling of your clit digging into the fabrics of his pants, the warmth of the skin under threatening to make you drool.

Short, quiet breaths filled the air as your hand worked on rubbing along the base of his clothed erection, earning a muffled noise of suppressed pleasure from him every time your fingers grazed over the right spot. You gnawed at your lips as one of his hands lifted up, loosely grasping your hair while you rocked back and forth on his thigh.

“You like this.”

He shrugged, spare hand moving to run along the hem of your pants, the press of his cool hands against your skin drawing a gasp from your lips.

“You do too.”

You watched as his eyes gradually darkened with each ministration, sweet moans melting into rough groans and curses. It was almost like a switch, how fast he could go from Simon Riley to Ghost. The pure sight of his now bored looking gaze instinctively made you dig your nails into his cock before the pleasure built up too much, eliciting a sharp breath from him in the process. At the same time, he twitched under your fingertips, hips subconsciously jutting into your hands, silently begging you to go faster.

And faster you went, scratching and squeezing coarse groans of pleasure from behind the mask. You got off at the same pace, letting out a low whine as your lower abdomen began to cloud with heat.

“That’s it, cum for me, lovie.” Ghost encouraged, lightly tugging on a handful of your hair. “I’ll be right after you.”

A gravely moan pushed its way out from the back of your throat as you came, completely soaking the fabric underneath you. True to his words, he was cumming just seconds later, a warm patch of seed turning the base of his crotch a deeper shade of grey.

You had no time to regain your breath, as Ghost was already pushing a hand into your pants, rudely shoving your underwear to the side before stroking his pointer finger down your folds. A deep inhale passed him at the feeling of your arousal coating his fingers, encouraging him to being an extra finger in to you with your clit.

“Soaking wet.”

Your eyes threatened to roll at the cocky gaze irises carried, clearly proud of the power he held over you. Yet, he clearly wasn’t over his own pleasure, as two of his fingers were quick to stuff themselves into your pussy, swirling around your walls as they began to pump into you.

“How does that feel?” He asked, dragging his fingers in and out of you, horribly, agonizingly slow. “Got something on your mind, don’t you?”

“Too slow.” You mumbled, fingers sinking into the cool fabric of his jacket at the complete stop of movement. “Don’t- tease me.”

A hum answered your commands, returning his fingers into your leaking pussy at a much faster pace. His fingers grew increasingly slick with each pump until he was practically nailing you, eyes glazing over with pleasure as your fingers delved under his hood, raking blazing lines over ice cold skin.

“Fuck-“ He groaned, head tilting to look up at you as his fingers relentlessly fucked your hole. “Cum again for me, dirty girl.”

Your legs clamped around his arms, crying out in pleasure as you gave into your second orgasm, coating his fingers in a generous amount of slick. Your teeth grit together as he swapped hands, pushing into you with his other set of fingers, raising the others up show you just how much you’d soaked him. Then, he beckoned your hand toward his mask, allowing you to expose his mouth as he slipped his fingers between his lips, tongue wrapping around the sickeningly sweet taste of you.

Those same fingers gently pushed into your mouth after he’d had his fill, making you lap up his saliva as his fingers swirled around the front of your throat. You bit down on your cheek as his fingers slipped out of your mouth and back into your pants, not bothering to hold your legs apart as he started to rub at your clit.

“Mmph, Ghost..” you sighed, hands running along the irritated expanse of his back. “You feel so good.”

“Taking my fingers so well.” He muttered, nipping at your neck through the mask. “Think you can take my cock?”

“You already know the answer to that- shit.”

Your eyes shut tight at the rush of another orgasm building up in you, waves of pleasure messily sloshing in their threats to spill again. Just as you’d thought you’d gotten used to it, Ghost roughly curled his fingers upward, snapping the dangerously thin thread sitting in your abdomen.

“FUCK!” You groaned, shuddering as Ghost fully pulled his fingers out of you, allowing yet another wave of your juices to pool against his pants.

The quiet drag of his sweatpants rustled in your ear, following your own pants being peeled off of your legs, and tossed behind on the floor. You watched as he dragged his boxers down, running a hand along his dick before taking hold of your shoulders and settling you against the pillows perched against the headboard.

And then he stopped. The flash of uncertainty in his eyes clear as the sunny skies of New England.

“Is this the last time I’ll see you?”

Your eyes parted at the sudden question, the burning desire of your answer present in his still, solid gaze. You glanced to the side, thinking about the mere handful of suitcases carrying your life’s worth sitting against your apartment door in Chicago, ready to go on your word. The decision was sure before you came here; leave the Task Force, rebuild your life brick by boring brick.

Yet, when you looked into the ever-longing window of vacance in Ghost — Simon Riley’s eyes, that thought went straight out the window.

However, there was no forgetting the terrors that seethed around him, igniting his very being in a fearful light. You knew it better than anyone else, and as long as you lived around him, you’d be plucking hopes off of a no leaf clover, trapped with the living, breathing nightmare that was Simon Riley.

“I don’t know.”

Maybe you liked the horror, the constant reminders of your failure to stay loyal settling in each crevice of your mind as you woke up covered in sweat, vocal chords arid from screaming.

And Ghost? Oh, he’d fallen deep into it with you now.

Some would’ve called it love.

Others called it getting by.

As much as he hated the uncertainty wavering in your answer, Ghost couldn’t bring himself to stop, stop touching you, stop looking at you. Each flutter of your sweat stained eyelashes made him want to scream, to cry and beg for you to stay with him until he was nothing but a forgotten pile of bones six feet under.

He buried those feelings deep inside your weeping pussy, bottoming out against your walls before dragging himself out, hissing at the way you sucked him in. Meanwhile, you were fighting back the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes as he relentlessly stretched open your overly sensitive walls, crying out at each full piston of his cock.

This was the misery, a feeling worse than any torture you’d ever endured. The absence of light in your fall from grace, leaving you a shell of the strong soldier you once were, a barely living, coldly breathing shadow. That shadow had spread to every part of you, poisoning your mind with acidic waves of remorse as you continued to be reminded of how you failed to save the man you loved. It was horrible, killing him with your own hands to cover up your failure to change.

You were horrible. And so was he.

Your body screamed at the sloppy thrusts of his cock, in, and out. Tears had long since began dragging down your face, painting the world in a static haze as you threw your head back, crying out at the painfully pleasant drags of his dick, carelessly abusing your pussy.

Maybe horrible wasn’t so bad, anymore. As long as it came with the face of bone white splattered on aged black, and the cold, broken soul that stared at you from behind it.

What felt like your twentieth orgasm hit you with crippling force, starving the air from your lungs as you screamed in grim bliss. Ghost continued to hammer into your sweet spot, chasing his own high and coaxing you back into yours just as fast. What was once slightly ragged breathing had bred animalistic pants, following a bruising grip of his hands on your thighs to keep you steady.

“If you leave.” He spit out, groaning at the sudden clench of your walls around him. “Promise me something.”

You feverishly nodded, pitifully clawing at the abuses of your nails on his back as his pace picked up. A strangled moan spilled from his lips as he painted your insides white, soothing the scorching burn with thick ropes of his seed.

The pull out was gentle, leaving you devoid of him yet so full as he lifted a hand, brushing stray strands of hair away from your eyes.

“Promise you won’t forget me, sweetheart.”

The request pooled out soft, a mere rumble finding it’s way pushed out of strained vocal chords. You thought it was the most beautiful thing — his voice, his body, everything about him seemed like a gift from heaven itself in your infernal world. And even though most of his body was covered, your eyes still fell victim to the mesmerizing sight of the glistening smudges of aged paint, glazed over with a heavy coat of sweat.

He’d never looked so bewitching. The sight alone enough to hound each waking memory and follow you until your last breath. And as long as you breathed, you would hold it with you like a fleeting spark of bliss.

“Promise me.”

His voice rang out again, practically begging for you to say something, anything. You looked at his eyes, taking the barren, so lifeless yet lively plain of his gaze, reflecting the sight of a breezy, cloudless day.

“I promise.”

If crossing empty skies was all this pitiful life had left for you, you would do it over, and over again, and never look back.

#arqhms #arqhmsthirst #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw22 #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fanfic

2K notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 6 months

Text

Do Not Go

Vax’ildan x Reader

Words: 2349

Part One of Two

Summary: Separated from the others in a brutal battle, Vax tries to save you before you fall to your injuries.

Notes: You guys knew this had to be coming eventually. I have so much angst planned for this man, it isn’t even funny. Also, I’ve never written for an animated character before (let alone one based on a DND campaign) so hopefully this goes well. I’m playing around with jumping around in a timeline, so bear with me. I love Vax so much.

“This way!”

“No, you idiot. This way!”

“Close the gate!”

“Hurry!”

The voices shot over your head like the arrows that were actually shooting over your head. Ahead, the large metal gate began to lower.

Shit shit shit shit.

The whole group ran faster.

Scanlan and Grog got under first, Grog nearly smacking his head against the bars. Then Pike, then Keyleth. Vex ducked under the closing bars. You and Vax were only seconds behind. You stopped when you heard him cry out. An arrow grazed his leg, making him fall.

“Go!” He yelled to you, voice urgent and out of breath.

You looked at the closing gate and turned on your heel, sprinting to his side. You grabbed a hold of his arm and helped him back to his feet.

“I’m not leaving you.”

The gate crashed down with a dooming thud.

“Vax!” Vex screamed, reaching her hand through the bars.

Soldiers descended upon you.

“We’ll hold them off.” He told her, readying his daggers for a fight.

She remained, along with the rest of the group, eyes wide and panicked.

Vax put a hand on hers. “We will find another way around. Go.”

Vex’s eyes snapped to you. “Keep him alive.”

All you could do was nod and she reluctantly pried herself away from the gate. The group disappeared into the dark hall.

Vax watched them go, keeping his back to the soldiers. He turned his head towards you. “How many?”

You scanned the crowd before you. “Fifteen, give or take.” You shrugged.

He smirked. “Better get to it then.” He whipped around, throwing one of his daggers into a soldier’s eye.

Arrows shot past your head, nearly slicing your cheek. Three soldiers with swords charged you. You cast a bolt into two of them and watched them crackle into dust. The third swung at you. His sword only collided with your wrist guard, but the impact knocked you backward into another guard. A sharp, burning pain radiated from where you collided with him.

“Son of a-” You gasped.

He charged you again.

You grabbed both of them and cast your personal favorite spell. They both collapsed with a painful scream.

Vax finished off another soldier, his dagger cleanly slicing open the man’s throat. Five more rushed down the hall towards you.

“I thought you said there were only fifteen!” He yelled.

“I believe that’s our cue, darling!” You shouted over the clashing metal.

Vax took your hand and the two of you started to run. You cast a handful of ball bearings onto the floor, buying you at least a head start.

You sprinted around corners and ducked into dark halls, hoping to lose them. Finally, Vax found an open door and pulled you through. It opened directly to a flight of stairs. Neither of you caught it in time and you both tumbled down into the dark. You caught the door with your foot, thankfully, closing it so the soldiers wouldn’t find you.

You landed on a hard, stone floor. Pain radiated through your body. You could hardly move. Even when Vax helped you to your feet, there was a stinging, awful ache in your back.

“Right. A little light, love?” Vax said. You cast a small fire and lit up the space. It appeared to be a cellar. “Perfect. We can wait for the soldiers to pass and then we can go find the others.”

“Vax-”

“We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” He chuckled. “I have to say, I’m impressed. The way you handled yourself was incredible. That spell? Those men didn’t stand a chance.” His lips formed a victorious smirk.

“Vax…” Your voice was weaker now.

His hazel eyes turned from amused to worried in an instant.

You took a step towards him and immediately collapsed into his arms.

“Y/N, what is it?” He asked. As his hands reached to hold onto you, he felt a wetness below your ribs. His hand came away bloody. “No. Gods, no.” He gently lowered you to the ground, pulling you into his lap.

“I guess,” you gasped in an attempt to laugh, “I guess adrenaline has more power than I thought. I hardly feel-” You cried out as another jolt of pain shot up your spine.

Vax’s face contorted as if he too were feeling your suffering. “It’ll be alright. We’ll use that healing potion you bought from Gilmore and everything will be-”

“I used it.” You coughed. “I used it on Keyleth during our last battle, remember?”

“We’ll figure out something else. We’ll…” His voice broke into a panic.

You reached up and touched his cheek. Your fingers were cold.

“Shh,” You soothed. “Can you just… hold me?” You managed a small smile and hoped that his beautiful hazel eyes would be the last thing you saw- just as they had been the first when you met.

The fire lit only a small circle. The trees loomed over you like tall, ominous shadows. You’d never been a fan of darkness. Too much could await you. Too much of the unexpected lurked in the pitch.

There, in the dark, you could see them. Staring at you. The rest of the group seemed unaware, but you couldn’t help but stare back. You weren’t frightened, exactly. There was no malicious intent in their eyes. Instead, there was a curiosity that equally intrigued you.

“Oh, stop it with the theatrics, will you?” Percy scoffed. “That’s Scanlan’s job.”

“Yeah!” The gnome agreed, giving you a wink.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. You took another swig of ale but nearly choked on it.

A figure stepped out of the darkness. From his alluring presence to his smirking lips, you found yourself utterly entranced.

“Y/N, this is Vax’ildan, but everyone just calls him Vax. Vex'ahlia’s brother,” Percy said.

“This little mouse is Y/F/N Y/L/N,” Vex snickered to her twin. “She’ll be joining us, apparently.”

The woman half-elf’s skepticism towards you hadn’t gone unnoticed. Not that you blamed her. Times like these, everyone had to look out for themselves. Honestly, the only member of the group enthusiastic about your joining was Scanlan and you were pretty sure he was trying to bed you.

But you couldn’t take your eyes off of the dark-haired rogue.

He looked at you intently and you felt the burning heat of blush rush to your cheeks. You gave him an unbearably awkward wave. Fates, what were you doing?

“Hm.” He dismissed you with a nod and took his place beside his sister.

“Do you remember?” You laughed weakly. “Do you remember how nervous I was? All of them were intimidating, but you frightened me the most. With your dark gaze an-and your smolder. You fucking smoldered at me!” Your laughing turned into violent coughs.

Vax held you closer.

“I remember,” He said. The reassuring smile he gave you didn’t reach his eyes. “Try and hold still. The others will find us soon. You’re going to be fine.”

“Vax, I-”

Footsteps thundered overhead and Vax’s body jolted and you slid ever so slightly out of his grasp. The sudden movement sent another fit up your back. You muffled a pained scream by biting your lip so hard it nearly bled.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He muttered, arms wrapping tightly around you once again. “The others will be here soon. Pike will heal you. They’ll find us. Everything will be fine. They’ll find us.” His words were barely more than a whisper as if he were more reassuring himself than you.

“It’s okay,” You said. You tucked a lock of his dark hair behind his ear. “I’m okay.”

“Don’t…” He clenched his jaw to keep his chin from trembling.

“There was a night- gods, it feels like it was yesterday-” You took a deep, shaking breath and tried not to wince. “There was a night in that awful tavern. Everyone had gone up to their rooms but us and we stood outside for what must have been hours. We talked about, well everything, and I can still remember your hand grabbing mine. I thought I’d surely stopped breathing.” You closed your eyes and smiled sadly. “I’m sure you don’t remember. The next morning we were both so hungover from all the ale and you didn’t seem to recall anything that had happened.”

Vax felt a pang of guilt. That night, he’d let himself feel vulnerable in a way he hadn’t in years. It scared him. The next morning, he could hardly face you. He let you believe it didn’t mean anything. That the secrets you trusted him with were forgotten in a haze of the morning. It was one of his greatest regrets.

“I remember.” His hand held yours and his lips pressed gently against your palm. “I remember.”

Perhaps it was you who didn’t. Not entirely.

“Look there!” You exclaimed. You pointed to the sky so enthusiastically that you lost your balance and stumbled into him. You both, however, were too drunk to care. “Did you see it?”

“See what?”

“The shooting star, silly! It was right there!” Your words were hardly understandable, but he still nodded, listening intently. “In my village, we used to say that shooting stars were souls being brought back from the dead.” Your goofy grin dimmed. “You know, for a long time, I’d see them and I would think that maybe, just maybe, those stars would be my parents coming back to me.”

You felt his eyes on you and fell silent. You let your gaze fall back to the street around you.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”

“Nobody ever asked.” You shrugged. “And it’s not something I like to talk about, so…” You bumped your shoulder against his to try and play off the situation. “Unless I have a few drinks in me, apparently.” With a nervous laugh, you took another swig.

The dark memory faded almost as quickly as it had come, thanks to the haze of intoxication floating around your head.

Vax’s eyes didn’t leave your face as he took another drink of his ale. He’d lost count of how many he’d had, but he was fairly certain you’d had half as many. Yet drunken giggles tumbled out of your lips like flower petals in the wind and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I used to be scared of you, you know. You and Vex,” you said. You laid your head on his shoulder with an absentminded snicker. “I’m still scared of her! But you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “you’re just a big softy, aren’t you? You act like you don’t care, but you do. I can tell.”

You let your hand fall back to your side, but your head stayed on his shoulder. Both of you looked back at the sky. Something grazed your palm. Your breathing hitched. Vax’s fingers laced with yours and his warm skin sent shivers up your arm.

Vax couldn’t move. Gods, he could hardly breathe. Just the feeling of holding your hand made his heart pound like it never had before. The urge to take you completely in his arms was fought only by the towering fear in his mind. He pressed his lips to your forehead and closed his eyes, trying to commit the feeling to memory before the darkness in him ruined it.

He felt vulnerable when he was with you. Weak. He wanted to protect you. He never wanted to be without you.

And that terrified him.

You were right. He cared more than he cared too.

You were growing paler by the second, which hardly seemed possible.

Vax was covered in your blood.

The rest of the group was still nowhere in sight.

“Vax,” You gasped. He lifted you slightly, holding the back of your head in his hand.

“I’m right here, darling.”

“I need you to tell them…” You winced. Just speaking was taking more energy than you had left. “I need you to tell Vox Machina that I- to tell them I-”

“You’ll tell them as soon as they arrive and Pike heals you.” He didn’t let the hope in his voice falter. If he could convince you, maybe you could hold on just a little longer.

Your expression saddened. “Tell them thank you. My life is richer for knowing each and every one of you.”

“Please.” His voice cracked along with his heart. “Please, just hold on a little longer, Y/N.”

“Vax’ildan,” You used the rest of your strength to hold his face in your hands. “The things I should have told you sooner…”

“Y/N, I beg of you, do not go.” He held back a sob.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a choice, my love.” Your words shot another arrow through his heart. Love. You weren’t afraid anymore. Your heart may be slowing, but it felt fuller than ever. “My Vax’ildan. How am I ever to repay you for what you have given me? For the love you have reminded me I am still capable of?”

“Don’t leave me.” He pleaded. “You can make it. You’re so strong. Please. Don’t go. Please, Y/N, I…” His words caught in his throat.

Your hands fell away from his face. Your head tilted back and one final breath parted your lips.

Like that distant night, Vax couldn’t move. He was frozen, staring at your still body, and waiting for you to wake up again. But your skin was cold in his grip, slicked with your blood.

“Y/N?” He put a hand on your cheek.

It was like ice.

“Don’t you dare leave,” Vax cried. “Don’t you do this. We need you. Please. Y/N.” He shook you gently. “Y/N, please!” His cry rang through the chamber. He pulled you to him, burying his face in your hair. He whispered against the coolness of your cheek. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you.”

Everything fell silent, save for the sound of his sobs echoing back to him from every dark corner. Even the shadows seemed to mourn.

#vox machina #the legend of vox machina #vax'ildan #liam o'brien #vax'ildan x reader #vox machina imagines #dnd

155 notes · View notes

zapreportsblog · 9 months

Note

Hey really enjoy your writing. I was hoping if you could accept my request. Fem reader is human mate to the volturi kings . She met them while her friends and her where Ghost hunting it was night time and they friend to get in she’s ended up meeting them that way lmao she was 😳

Spooked but intrigued needles to says her life changed that day. She has had a blast getting to know the 3 kings and befriended the guard. She’s was always insecure and sometimes it’s hard to believe she gets to be with amazing people like they have so much knowledge and even been through a lot in life. One day she over heard a new guard talking shit about her. “Why is a human so important to the kings. The probably will just use her and toss her out. She’s so useless and doesn’t do anything. She heard it and got so depressed she locked herself in her room. It got so bad she sorta stoooed eating because she thinks he sorta is right compared to the kings she really does not grasp why they are with her she understands she’s their mate but wishes she could do more.

Cue the kings and the guard being worried /pissed because they can’t see her and got even more worried because she’s not eating and crying all the time. The twins are also mad they investigated and slowly found out how she heard some new guard talking shit. The vampire will now understand the phrases fuck around and find out.

Needless to says the guard is pissed with this vampire and the kings will take care of him soon 😡

But first their b loved need to understand how her work and her perspective as a human is so precious to them and to the her she’s that breath of fresh air that they need she makes their day’s joyful and they can’t see life without her. Marcus s all of them coax and explain how much she means to them. They get very vulnerable with her 🥹🥺

You cans add romance and fluff if you feel comfortable.

Now after reassuring her they take her so she can see them end this fool 😡😈

A trial is done to this stupid guard that dared to do this to their mate it’s not going to be a pretty execution 😈

👁️👄👁️ this is so long but at the same time 👁️🫦👁️ I like it, therefore enjoy 👁️👅👁️

↱ protecting what’s theirs ↰

➘ summary : a stupid ghost hunting trip leads to an unexpected meeting

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, twilight x reader, volturi x reader

The full moon cast an eerie glow over the ancient streets of Volterra as (Y/N) and her friends ventured into the heart of the city. Armed with flashlights and a sense of adventure, they were on a ghost hunting expedition like no other. Volterra's rich history and legends of the supernatural had drawn them here, but little did they know, they were about to stumble upon a world beyond their wildest imagination.

The cobblestone streets echoed with the hushed laughter of the group as they meandered through the shadowy alleyways. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The tall, imposing buildings seemed to watch their every move, and (Y/N)'s heart raced as her flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows against the ancient stone walls.

As they turned a corner, the distant sound of footsteps caught their attention. A chill ran down (Y/N)'s spine, and her grip on the flashlight tightened. The footsteps grew closer, accompanied by an indistinct murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

"Did you guys hear that?" (Y/N) whispered, her voice barely audible above the hushed whispers of her friends. They nodded, their expressions a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Their flashlights converged on the source of the sound, revealing three figures emerging from the darkness. Dressed in attire that seemed both elegant and out of place, the strangers exuded an air of authority that demanded attention. Their eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, capturing (Y/N)'s gaze and holding it in a vice-like grip.

"Who are you?" one of (Y/N)'s friends stammered, her voice quivering.

"We are the Volturi," the tallest of the strangers replied, his voice smooth and commanding. "And you are trespassing in our domain."

A mixture of fear and fascination washed over (Y/N) as she studied the enigmatic trio. The Volturi - the name resonated within her like a haunting melody, awakening something deep within her soul. Unbidden, her eyes met the piercing gaze of the Volturi king, his crimson irises holding a promise of secrets and mysteries beyond her imagination.

Before anyone could react, the situation took an unexpected turn. A low growl reverberated through the air, followed by the emergence of another figure from the shadows. This newcomer was different from the Volturi, his presence radiating an aura of danger and wildness. His eyes locked onto (Y/N), a mix of curiosity and something more primal flickering in their depths.

"Demetri, Felix, we have guests," the newcomer's voice was a velvet whisper, sending a shiver down (Y/N)'s spine.

The tension in the air was palpable as (Y/N) and her friends found themselves caught in a web of intrigue and danger. The meeting of humans and supernatural beings was fated that night, setting in motion a series of events that would forever alter their lives.

The atmosphere grew electric, the very air around (Y/N) seemed to thrum with a hidden power. She tore her gaze away from the newcomer and back to the enigmatic Volturi kings, who exuded an unsettling mix of authority and intrigue. Questions tumbled in her mind, but the words caught in her throat.

"Forgive our intrusion," one of (Y/N)'s friends managed to stammer, her voice trembling. "We didn't mean any harm."

The tension eased slightly as the Volturi king who had spoken regarded them with an inscrutable expression. "Curiosity often leads mortals to unforeseen encounters," he mused, his tone measured.

"But now that you've seen us, you pose a risk," the newcomer interjected, his voice like velvet edged with steel. "A risk that requires management."

(Y/N)'s heart raced as the implications of his words sank in. What did he mean by "management"? The situation felt precarious, like a fragile balance hanging by a thread.

"We promise, we won't tell anyone about what we've seen," another of (Y/N)'s friends hurriedly assured, her voice quivering.

The Volturi kings exchanged a look that conveyed volumes without a word spoken. It was as if they communicated through an unspoken language that (Y/N) couldn't comprehend. After a tense pause, the leader of the Volturi spoke again, his gaze resting on (Y/N) once more.

"Your words are noted. However, secrecy is not the only matter at hand. There is something... unique about your presence here."

The intensity of the Volturi king's gaze sent shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. She felt like he was peering into her very soul, unraveling the thoughts and emotions she kept hidden even from herself.

"What do you mean?" she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.

A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his lips, but it did little to ease the unease coiling within her. "Some things are better shown than explained," he said cryptically.

Before anyone could react, a swift movement caught their attention. The newcomer, who had been lurking at the edges of their conversation, now stood in front of (Y/N). His intense gaze bore into her, a mixture of curiosity and something far more primal.

"Would you allow me to show you?" he murmured, his voice like a seductive whisper.

(Y/N)'s heart raced as she met his gaze, her mind torn between fear and a strange attraction she couldn't explain. Her friends exchanged nervous glances, their unspoken concern palpable.

"Show me what?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

The newcomer's lips curved into a predatory smile, and a flicker of something unreadable danced in his eyes. "The truth about who we are, and who you are becoming."

As the moon cast an ethereal glow over the ancient streets of Volterra, (Y/N) stood at a crossroads between the mundane world she had known and the enigmatic realm that had suddenly opened before her. Unforeseen encounters had set her on a path of discovery, a journey that would challenge her perceptions and forever intertwine her fate with that of the Volturi kings.

In the days that followed that fateful encounter, (Y/N)'s life took an unexpected turn. Intrigue and curiosity won out over fear, and she found herself agreeing to the newcomer's proposal. What could he possibly show her? It was a question that echoed in her thoughts, driving her to embrace this newfound journey.

As days turned into weeks, (Y/N) discovered a world she had never dreamed of. The Volturi kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, each held a presence that was simultaneously awe-inspiring and intimidating. Yet, to her surprise, they welcomed her into their midst with a warmth and hospitality that shattered her preconceived notions.

There was something about their timeless wisdom and the stories they shared that drew her in. Aro's insatiable curiosity, Caius's unwavering determination, and Marcus's melancholic wisdom—each king offered a unique perspective that broadened her horizons.

But it wasn't just the kings who left a lasting impression. The main guards, Felix, Demetri, Jane, and Alec, became her friends. They possessed a camaraderie that was forged through centuries of loyalty and trials. Their stories, filled with both triumphs and heartaches, served as a reminder that even the seemingly immortal beings had faced their share of challenges.

Despite their extraordinary existence, (Y/N) found that they too were grappling with their own vulnerabilities. Jane's fierce determination masked a deeper longing for acceptance, while Alec's quiet demeanor concealed a well of emotions. Demetri's playful banter belied a complex history, and Felix's imposing presence shielded a heart of gold.

As (Y/N) spent time with them, she began to realize that they weren't just powerful beings, but individuals with their own struggles and insecurities. It was a humbling revelation that helped her see herself in a new light. Her initial insecurities, the nagging doubts that she didn't belong, began to fade.

With each passing day, (Y/N) embraced the friendships she had forged. They didn't judge her for her mortal limitations; instead, they celebrated her unique perspective and her willingness to learn. She found herself laughing more, exploring the hidden corners of Volterra with her new companions, and immersing herself in their world.

And through it all, the enigmatic newcomer who had introduced her to this world kept his promise. He showed her the secrets of their existence, revealing the intricate web of alliances, rivalries, and histories that shaped the Volturi's power. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her thirst for knowledge deepening as she delved into the labyrinthine tales.

As the weeks turned into months, (Y/N) realized that her life had irrevocably changed. She had transformed from a mere mortal into someone who walked among beings of unparalleled power. But even more importantly, she had found a sense of belonging, a place where her presence was valued and her voice was heard.

The grand halls of the Volturi castle echoed with footsteps, laughter, and murmured conversations. (Y/N) had grown accustomed to the rhythms of this supernatural world, finding comfort in her friendships with the kings and their guards. But one day, as she wandered near a corridor, her steps slowed involuntarily as she overheard a conversation that shattered her newfound sense of belonging.

The voices, though hushed, reached her ears with a clarity that cut like a blade. Her heart hammered in her chest as she recognized the voice of a new guard, someone she hadn't interacted with much. The words he uttered were like poison, seeping into her thoughts.

"Why is a human so important to the kings? They'll probably just use her and toss her out. She's so useless and doesn't do anything."

Those words echoed in her mind, a chorus of doubt that she couldn't escape. As if struck by an unseen force, she retreated from the corridor and fled to her room, her steps heavy with a sadness she couldn't put into words.

Locked away from the world outside, (Y/N) sank onto her bed, her thoughts a tumultuous storm. The echoes of the guard's words reverberated in her mind, amplifying the insecurities she had once managed to overcome. She had believed that she belonged here, that her friendships and connections were genuine. But now, the shadow of doubt loomed over her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she battled the emotions that threatened to engulf her. She had thought she was strong enough to face the skepticism of the outside world, but the venomous words had struck a chord deep within her heart. The weight of her perceived uselessness bore down on her, suffocating her spirit.

Hours passed like a blur as (Y/N) grappled with her emotions in the solitude of her room. The once-familiar space now felt like a prison of her own making. The world outside seemed unreachable, the bonds she had formed now tainted by the poison of doubt.

But just as darkness threatened to consume her completely, a soft knock on her door drew her attention. Tentative at first, then growing more insistent. With a heavy sigh, (Y/N) forced herself to rise from the bed and open the door, revealing the concerned faces of Demetri and Felix.

"(Y/N), are you alright?" Demetri's voice was gentle, his eyes reflecting a genuine worry.

Her voice caught in her throat, and she turned away, unable to meet their gazes. It felt like they could see right through her, past the façade she had constructed.

"(Y/N), you heard that, didn't you?" Felix's voice was quiet, tinged with a sadness she hadn't expected.

Unable to speak, (Y/N) nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She felt vulnerable, exposed, as if her deepest fears were laid bare for them to see.

Felix stepped forward, his large frame engulfing her in a comforting embrace. "You're not useless, (Y/N). You've brought light into this place, and your friendships are genuine. We've seen it, felt it."

Demetri joined them, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "We understand that words can hurt, but don't let them define you. You're part of this world because you've earned your place."

Tears spilled down (Y/N)'s cheeks as their words sank in. She realized that she hadn't been alone in her struggle. The friends she had made here saw her worth, even when she couldn't see it herself.

Despite the support of Demetri and Felix, (Y/N)'s mind remained ensnared by the guard's hurtful words. Their reassurances were like a lifeline, but her doubts had taken root, growing stronger with each passing day. The castle that had once felt like a sanctuary now seemed like a place where she didn't belong.

The laughter of the kings and the guards, once a symphony that brought her joy, now felt like a reminder of her perceived inadequacy. She watched them with a heavy heart, wondering why they would choose to be with her, a mere human. In her eyes, they were luminous beings, powerful and wise, while she was fragile and ordinary.

As the days turned into weeks, (Y/N)'s insecurity morphed into something more insidious. She began to withdraw, spending more time in her room, lost in a sea of introspection. The once vibrant glow that surrounded her seemed to dim, and even her interactions with Demetri and Felix felt strained.

The guard's words had taken root deep within her, echoing through her thoughts even as she tried to push them away. Food lost its appeal, and her appetite waned as she contemplated her own worth. She wanted to do more, to contribute something meaningful, but the weight of her perceived uselessness bore down on her, sapping her energy.

Demetri and Felix's concern deepened as they watched her retreat further into herself. They tried to offer solace, to remind her of her place among them, but their words fell on deaf ears. Every reassurance seemed like an empty echo against the overpowering tide of self-doubt.

In the heart of the Volturi castle, a sense of unease hung in the air as Demetri and Felix stood before the three kings. The normally imposing presence of Aro, Caius, and Marcus seemed muted in the face of their guards' obvious distress.

"Demetri, Felix, you both seem troubled. What weighs on your minds?" Aro's voice was laced with a curiosity that never failed to unnerve.

Felix exchanged a look with Demetri, a silent understanding passing between them. With a deep breath, Demetri began to recount the events of the past few weeks—the encounter with the new guard's hurtful words, (Y/N)'s growing isolation, and her plummeting emotional state.

Caius's expression darkened as he listened, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his armrest. "And you say she's confined herself to her room? She's not eating?"

Felix nodded, his voice grim. "Yes, she's been locking herself away, hardly eating, and she seems to be in constant emotional distress. We've tried to reach out to her, but our words don't seem to reach her."

Aro leaned forward, his fingers pressed together in thought. "This is troubling indeed. We were aware of her insecurities, but we had hoped that she would find solace within our company."

Marcus, who had been silent throughout the conversation, finally spoke in his characteristic soft tones. "It appears that the shadow of doubt has taken a firm hold on her. She questions her place among us, her worthiness."

A heavy silence settled in the room as the weight of the situation hung over them. Aro's eyes glinted with a mixture of concern and determination. "We must not let this darkness consume her. We have seen her strength and resilience. It is our duty to remind her of the light she brings into our lives."

Caius's gaze was steely as he spoke. "Felix, Demetri, I want you both to find a way to reach her. Encourage her to open up, to share her thoughts. We cannot allow her to remain trapped in this cycle of despair."

As the guards nodded in agreement, Marcus offered a quiet suggestion. "Perhaps, the presence of the kings themselves might help break through her isolation."

Aro smiled, his expression one of reassurance. "Yes, we shall pay her a visit. Together, we will show her that she is not alone, that her place among us is secure."

With renewed determination, the three kings and their loyal guards set forth on a mission to bring light to (Y/N)'s darkness. The castle's grandeur and power faded in importance as their collective focus centered on the fragile human whose presence had stirred something profound within them.

As twilight settled over the Volturi castle, the air was charged with an unspoken tension. The kings had made their decision, and Alec and Jane, the twins known for their formidable powers, were chosen to investigate the events that had cast a shadow over their domain. The twins moved with an eerie grace, their gazes set with an intent that held an unspoken promise of retribution.

Their path led them to the new guard's quarters, and with a swift motion, Alec opened the door. Jane's crimson eyes bore into the guard, her gaze like a laser that could cut through steel. The guard looked up, caught off guard by their sudden presence.

"Mind if we have a word?" Alec's voice was deceptively calm, but there was a flicker of danger in his eyes.

The guard shifted uncomfortably, his bravado faltering as he sensed the aura of the twins. "What do you want?"

Jane's lips curved into a cold smile, her power radiating from her as she stepped closer. "We heard about your little chat the other night. About (Y/N). Care to elaborate?"

The guard's eyes widened in realization, but he tried to maintain his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alec's patience wore thin, and his tone hardened. "Don't play games with us. We know exactly what you said. We know about the doubt you sowed in (Y/N)'s mind."

The guard's defiance wavered, and fear crept into his eyes. He stammered, "I... I didn't mean anything by it. I was just venting."

Jane's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Your words have consequences. You underestimated her strength, and now she's suffering because of it."

A tense silence hung in the air as the twins' words hung heavy between them. The guard's mask of arrogance had crumbled, revealing a hint of vulnerability that Alec and Jane took note of.

"We suggest you tread carefully from now on," Alec's voice was a chilling warning. "Because you've just invoked the wrath of the Volturi kings, and they don't take kindly to those who threaten their own."

With that, the twins turned and left the room, leaving the guard to his thoughts. As the door closed behind them, a sense of unease settled over the castle.

Meanwhile, within the chambers of the kings, the atmosphere was fraught with a simmering anger. Alec and Jane's report had ignited a fire within them, and the knowledge of (Y/N)'s suffering had only fueled their determination.

Demetri's eyes darkened with rage as he clenched his fists. "The audacity of that guard to undermine (Y/N)'s place among us. She deserves more respect than that."

Felix's jaw tensed, his expression mirroring the anger of his comrades. "It's clear we need to set an example. We can't allow this kind of behavior to go unpunished."

Aro's lips curved into a dangerous smile, his gaze glinting with a mixture of power and retribution. "It's time to show this guard what it means to cross the Volturi."

The kings and their loyal guards united in their determination. The guard had unwittingly invoked the fury of the most powerful beings in the vampire world. The phrases "fuck around and find out" took on new meaning as they hatched a plan to ensure that the guard understood the gravity of his actions.

In the shadows of the castle, a reckoning was brewing—a reminder that the Volturi did not tolerate threats to those they cherished. The guard's actions had set in motion a chain of events that would shape the fate of all involved.

As the days unfolded, (Y/N)'s sense of isolation began to wane. The support of Demetri and Felix, along with the kings' determination to mend the damage, had chipped away at the fortress of doubt she had built around herself. The light that had dimmed within her began to flicker once more, illuminating the path toward acceptance.

One evening, as the moon cast its silvery glow over the castle, (Y/N) found herself alone in her room. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of anticipation and unease. The knock on her door signaled the arrival of unexpected visitors.

"(Y/N), may we come in?" Aro's voice was gentle, tinged with an underlying warmth.

Heart racing, (Y/N) opened the door, revealing the three kings standing before her. Their presence was awe-inspiring, yet this time, it didn't fill her with trepidation. Instead, a sense of belonging enveloped her, and she welcomed them with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity.

"Please, come in," she managed to say, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

As they entered her room, the kings' expressions were a blend of concern and determination. Aro, the one most adept at voicing thoughts, took a step forward. "We want to apologize for any distress you've experienced due to the actions of one of our own."

Caius's gaze was piercing, yet there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "We should have intervened sooner, defended your place among us."

Marcus's voice was soft, carrying the weight of his centuries of wisdom. "You are not just our mate, (Y/N), but a valued member of our family. Your presence has enriched our lives in ways words cannot convey."

Tears welled in (Y/N)'s eyes as their words sank in. They had come to her, not just to reassure her, but to affirm her worth in their lives. The fortress of doubt she had constructed crumbled, and she felt like she was standing on the precipice of a new understanding.

"I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice catching.

Aro's smile was warm as he approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to say anything. Just know that you are cherished, valued, and loved.”

Caius's voice was a whisper that held an unspoken promise. "And we want to make amends for any pain you've endured."

Marcus's gaze held a quiet intensity. "Which is why we've decided to have a trial for the guard who caused you harm."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of emotions churning within her. "A trial?"

Aro nodded. "Yes, a trial. We want you to be there, to see the consequences of his actions, to understand that the Volturi do not tolerate threats to their family."

Caius's voice was firm. "You will witness his judgment."

Marcus's words held a sense of finality. "And you will know that you are not alone."

Tears streamed down (Y/N)'s cheeks as she met their gazes, her heart overflowing with gratitude and a newfound sense of belonging. In that moment, she understood that her place among them was not just by chance, but by choice.

As the moon bathed the room in its glow, the kings and their mate stood together, bound by a connection that transcended words. In the embrace of their love and support, (Y/N)'s journey of self-discovery continued, her spirit rekindled by the realization that she was an integral part of the world she had come to call home.

258 notes · View notes

oopspeter · 8 months

Text

We'll never have sex

SUMMARY: Returning from a year long mission should be a relief, but the terrors from those hard months have followed you back home. Struggling to find comfort in your old ways, a certain co-worker introduces you to his own salvation-- distraction.

WARNINGS: 16+ rating for mature themes, blood, allusions to torture, foul language, minor to medium injury descriptions, weapons and violence.

WC: 3.6K

NOTES: First fic! Please let me know what you think-- it hasn't been proofread very well.

"Are you taller than the last time I saw you?" You tease, in awe of his largely built physique.

"I guess everything finally loosened after being off of the ice for so long," Bucky says rather non-chalant.

"Has the giant stick finally fallen out of your ass then?" You quip with a cheeky grin.

"Never," he shakes his head with an equally matched smile.

"And decided to evolve from that 'lord and saviour' haircut?" You motion to his new trim.

"I've decided that look only suits the holiest of men, which of course I don't qualify for," he instinctively runs his fingers through the chopped locks.

The sound of a heavy heel echoes on the polished concrete, a grand entrance for the one and only Tony Stark.

"Hermit and the recluse!" His hands spread out like an awful gesture of welcome.

"I thought you were too old for modern hip-hop references, Anthony," you push your lips into a thin line, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Puh-lease, as if gramps here even knows what I'm yapping about," Tony points his thumb over his shoulder at Bucky as he walks past.

Even though he was totally right, Bucky also refrained from producing any sort of a reaction.

"Here to spread anything useful or are you just trying to be a dick?" Your current distaste for the playboy was evident in your tone, but it was nothing new. Deep down inside you did feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, as did he to you.

Opening the large, stainless steel refrigerator that looked like it could hold at least six months worth of food at a single time, he snatched a bottle of lemon water before slamming the door shut again.

"Since you're back, Banner wants to do a few procedural run throughs just to check up on your health," he flicks the cap off of the bottle which goes flying into the bin. "Oh, and the Star Spangled Banner would like to see you as well-- not the Bruce Banner, but the Star Spangled one."

"You can just say Steve, you know that right?" You squint at him as he daintily sips from the mouthpiece of the bottle.

"Just proving my vocabulary has extended further than the most generic white-man name in America," he shrugs coolly, and you kinda' wanna punch him in his smug face.

The ex-soldier stands as still as stone beside you during your exchange with Tony, if you couldn't see the gentle rise and fall of his chest you'd think he was dead with the lack of noise emitting. Choosing to ignore him, the man takes the cue to leave the room, still feverishly sipping the bottle of lemony water. Once the sound of his heavy heels disappeared out of the kitchen and down the hallway, you noticed how Bucky's shoulders relax.

"Bet you're dreading being back, huh?" You allow to corner of your mouth to turn upwards slightly.

"I could say the same thing to you."

There's an unspoken tension in the air, something far from awkward but not any nearer to comfortable either. Had it been a year and a half since you last saw him? On his six month mission to Angola, at the fourth month you had been sent off on a mission of your own in the Pacific islands to track down an old HYDRA associate who had formulated a plan to obliterate the entire planet from his tiny laboratory in the middle of bum-fuck no where.. no biggie, right?

The seemingly short mission of yours turned into a solo, twelve month exhibition trying to chase a man who was half the size of yourself and almost as clever. Eventually when you caught up to him and the few friends he had made along the way, the year job was over in thirty seconds. Underwhelming.

Sure, you’d escaped death a few times, but not by the man who you’d been hunting. Turns out there were a few other undesirables along your path that you just couldn’t miss the opportunity to lock up. Maybe that was a bit of a roadblock, too.

“I don’t want to keep Bruce waiting, I’ll uh.. see you later?” It was a hopeful question.

“Certainly,” he nods his head in reply, and your heart skips a beat or two.

You blame the heart issues on being so emotionally disconnected from anyone for the past twelve months.

The appointment with Bruce was swift, you chat for more of the time than you did actually doing the check up. He prescribed you with a few pain meds, re-dressed some wounds you’d brought back with you and altered your fitness plan to better accommodate your new injuries. Bruce had a way when it came to making people feel safe, despite the fact any moment a big green monster could jump out and crush you.

There were the usual questions like, how has your diet been-- have you been getting enough sleep-- are the night terrors still occurring-- any unusual pains-- are you sexually active?

The answer has always been something along the lines of nutritious, not at all, all of the time, plenty and no.

It's hard to maintain a sex life being away all the time and locking yourself in your room when you are around, even harder trying to manage a relationship. Sure, you've dated before, dabbled in a love life or two before inevitably deciding it wasn't for you. It never will be for you.

It's far past nightfall by the time you actually decide to leave your room, walking barefoot through the long, cold halls of the tower before finding yourself in the kitchen. Your stomach growls to protest your hunger, throat scratchy and dry as symptoms of your thirst. The automatic lights flicker on the moment you walk through the threshold into the kitchen. A pristine, clean kitchen soon to become the next victim of your horrific cooking skills.

First of all you grab a glass from it's respective cabinet, running the water from the tap to fill it up. Your lips meet the mouth of the glass and you drink, quenching your thirst with a relieved sigh. The water here is refreshing, hygienic, in great contrast to what you've been drinking for the past year. Feeling the coolness in your palms you go to take another sip.

It's metallic, tastes like you've drunk straight from a muddy puddle. The water they have just thrown on your face definitely mixed with the blood dripping from your nose and clinging to your lips. Coughing up a mix of flehm and mucky water, you thrash around in the flimsy wooden chair you've been restrained to.

The room smells of mildew, wet dog fur, and something that is heavily rotting. You can blame the stink of decomposition on whatever is beneath that blue tarp tucked away in the far corner of the room. There's no light aside from a single bulb eerily hanging above your head like some old, cliché horror movie.

Your wrists hurt more than usual and this time you can't blame it on early on-set arthritis, but instead the finger-marks imprinted in a purplish green and the thick rope that rubs against them. The silhouette hiding in the dark approaches you in the light, the indistinguishable appearance morphing into that of a tall man with a mask that hid his face and resembled a smiling monkey. It would be the least menacing thing in the room if he wasn't wielding a knife as large as your forearm.

It's silent aside from the obnoxious drip from the ceiling on the tarp. Drip. Drip. Drip. The face of the knife shines in your eye, reflecting from the light of the bulb hanging from the ceiling. His feet drag along the crusty floor, it's evident he has a limp by the way he carries himself towards you. If you had a free leg or two you'd drive your foot straight into his knee to completely eliminate that problem for him, forever; but how tightly they had bound you prevented even a nudge of movement.

The masked man is close enough for your knees to touch, taking the tip of the sharp knife and dragging it across your cheek to leave a light mark that brings blood in it's wake. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of even a slight whimper which evidentially leaves him unsatisfied, because the knife leaves your face and dives into your--

"Hey, are you okay?"

The glass in your hand shatters completely, hundreds of shards diving and piercing the skin on your palm, the water that was left now drenching your socks. Were you holding it so tightly that the sudden fright made it break?

Swinging around with a crimson hand you find an equally shocked Bucky, lips slightly ajar as a physical indication of his surprise. Not even a moment later he's rushing over with a dishtowel to wrap around your bleeding hand, the white terry cloth quickly becoming stained. You can tell he's panicked by the rise and fall of his shoulders, yet you are struggling to even breathe.

The rotting and mildew is replaced by lemon disinfectant and lingering cooked onion. A dark, dank room now replaced by a pristine, white kitchen. The man in front of you is not a man who wears the mask of a monkey, but instead the one and only Bucky Barnes.

"Fuck, fuck," he has the towel wrapped so tightly around your palm. "We need Banner--"

"No!" You interrupt him, finally finding your own voice. "I don't want to wake him, please don't disturb him."

"Then what do I do?" You can tell he is trying his best to keep his composure and not snap at you for being so stubborn like he has so many times before.

"Get the kit from under the sink, wait for the bleeding to calm and I can take the remaining shards out of my hand," you instruct.

"I will take the remaining shards out of your hand," he corrects. "Keep pressure on it please."

His callous hand places your other hand on top of the towel, pushing the back of it down to apply the same pressure he was before. He's rushing to grab the kit from beneath the kitchen sink, taking his hand to shove all of the bleach bottles aside instead of carefully rummaging through.

You've already made your way to the island, taking a seat at the bar stool and leaning your elbow against the marble. It fucking stings. You have no idea how you transported all the way back into the room after shoving the memory so far down to the depths where you thought it could never recover.

You take in his evening look, those baggy grey sweatpants a signature at-home look of his. The creased t-shirt a dark navy and border lining a compression tee from the way it hugs his torso and biceps so tightly. There are bags under his eyes like there always is, and his brows are pulled tightly together in deep concern.

Your heart does that concerning thing again. Perhaps the bloodloss?

He stands beside you at the end of the counter, the fine marble a slight barrier between your bodies. He unzips the kit with such force you're surprised the entire thing hasn't ripped. He's panicked, you can tell.

"Hey," your uninjured hand reaches out to lightly touch your wrist. "Breathe, it's okay, I'm not dying."

Bucky pauses, and he isn't breathing-- until he does. His tense shoulders drop and his face finally relaxes, then he moves your hand back to apply pressure to the towel.

The silence between you is intense and lasts for what feels like forever. You can tell there's a question on the tip of his tongue that he's too afraid to ask, and you've got a feeling you're not quite sure how to answer it either why. You're not sure why you broke the glass, or why you became absent for so long, or why you were back in that room again.

"Why are you awake?" He interrupts your escape into your own head.

"I couldn't sleep," you answer honestly. "Neither could you?"

Bucky shakes his head in reply. "No, I couldn't."

"Never can." You both say in unison.

There's a pause.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he doesn't look you in the eyes, instead stares at the red cloth covering your hand.

"You didn't mean to," you shake your head with reassurance, offering a small smile to show that you aren't upset with him at all.

"What if I did?" The corner of his lip upturns.

"Then we'd have a bit of a problem, wouldn't we?" Your tone is playful.

"How about we leave the sparring for after, when all of the glass is out of your hand y'know," he shrugs jokingly.

"Right," you nod your head in agreeance, pulling the towel back to reveal the palm of your hand.

It's definitely not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but not the worst either. There's only one significantly deep cut but the rest just brushed the surface few layers of skin. Bucky is quick to get to work with the tweezers, disinfectant and plasters.

As he works on mending your hand you can't help but look at his face.

Compared to the last time you saw him there's a scar or two more on his right cheekbone, a significant healed slash across the bridge of his nose, a few extra wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. The stubble on his jaw, chin and upper lip is well maintained and lacks intensity on his neck. The cropped look suits him, hints of grey coming through as a reminder of his aging body now that he has been off the all the chemicals and the ice.

Your eyes trace his side profile, from his hairline to his forehead, eyebrows to the tip of his nose, nose to his lips, lips to his chin and then back to his lips. They're pursed as a habit of concentration, blue eyes trained on the task at hand (literally).

Though it stings, it's practically painless with the way he leans into the counter to reach you. Your heart is skipping again, but this time you think you know why.

"Done," he claps his hands together. "I definitely recommend seeing Banner tomorrow though, even though I spend my weekends fixing myself up I sure as hell ain't a doctor."

"You did a mighty fine job anyways, Mr Barnes," you admire his handy work, though you definitely need that deeper cut a proper look at tomorrow. It'll definitely stop the bleeding and keep it all together for the meantime.

The tension resumes it's place between you, it's palpable.

Your stomach growls in the quiet room.

"Are you hungry?" He quirks a brow.

"Yeah, I was initially in here to cook," you nod your head and rub your forearm with your uninjured hand sheepishly. "Kinda' foiled now." You wave your now bandaged hand.

"Can I take you somewhere?" He's polite, and looks at you like an expectant puppy. You can't help but grin.

"Sure."

It’s a stones throw, or two, from the tower before you finally arrive at your destination. The roaring of his motorbike falls to silence as he uses his heel to push out the kickstand, leaning the bike on it and throwing his leg over to hop off. Reaching his hand out he offers to help you down, which you gracefully accept, placing your hand in the palm of his own and jumping out of your seat.

Dinner was gorgeous. Some little, family owned, Thai place hidden in Brooklyn, where the women knew Bucky’s name and the men shook his hand. They presented you both with a free entrée. It sure as hell made you forget about that little episode in the kitchen. The second the food met your tongue you practically melted into your seat, and Bucky laughed as if to say ‘I know, right!’

Conversation flowed easily, any moment of silent was just a cause of food being stuffed into your mouths. He didn’t ask why you couldn’t sleep, or why you were in such a state and broke the glass. Bucky knew you’d tell him when you were ready.

A shared plate of Khao Niew Ma Maung and a more than generous tip later, you find yourself standing outside of the door to your room. Laughter echoes down the empty, dimly lit hall as you keep at least a foot between you— not daring to even brush arms. His strong featured are illuminated by the shadows, and that funny feeling rests heavily in your chest.

There’s a blanket of silence that falls between you two, not wanting this quiet moment to end. You can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and if the super soldier hearing was true he’d definitely be able to hear the heavy beat of your heart.

“Thank you,” you break the silence. “I— tonight was lovely.”

Bucky hums. “It was.”

Neither of you move a muscle, an invitation lingering on the tip of your tongue.

You open your mouth to speak. “Do you—”

“Yes, please.”

Inside your room is sweet, the bed is made with the cosiest of sheets, books stack shelves accompanied by little trinkets you display proudly. Flicking a match you ignite your pumpkin-scented candle for a source of light, the blinds already automatically pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. If the crisp, untouched sheets were not enough of a sign that you couldn’t find rest, perhaps the growing bags under your eyes were.

Respectfully he kicks his shoes off at the door before stepping on your plush carpet, shrugging off his own jacket and neatly placing it on the back of your desk chair. He’s never been in your room, no one has besides Banner who stumbled in panicked to find you a shaking mess on the floor. That’s a story for another time.

You lay on top the bedspread and rest your head on the plush pillow, hands intertwining on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. Letting out a gentle sigh you feel the mattress dip to the right of your feet.

“You can lay with me, don’t be shy.”

He’s hesitant to do so, but you can feel the warmth of his body as he lays parallel to yourself. You can smell his cologne and it’s much nicer than your expensive candle.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he motions with his hand that you can see in your peripherals.

“You thought I’d be happy with the Stark furniture they so kindly gifted us all when we first moved in?” You put a certain emphasis on the word, which causes him to chuckle. The bed shakes under his weight, and the butterflies flutter.

“I think I broke the bed frame on the third day,” he shuffles beside you, you can tell there’s a smile on his face that matches yours.

“Holy shit, who did you do?”

“No— no— not from that!” He’s quick to jump in and defend himself, evidently flustered. “Turns out the billionaire couldn’t spare the few extra dollars to buy something that could hold 260lbs.”

“So what, you were just sleeping and it collapsed beneath you?” You turn your head slightly to glance at his face.

“I mean I kinda’ face planted on it after I got home from a frustrating mission, and it just splintered beneath me.”

“Oh god,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I was pissed,” he shakes his head, turning it slightly to look into your eyes. “I stormed through the complex and kicked open Stark’s door.”

“Did you get a new bed frame?”

“No, my mattress is still on the floor.”

“I think you need to make another complaint to head office then.”

“You bet,” he shakes his head with a heavy sigh, but the upturn of his mouth tells you that it’s the least of his worries right now.

There’s a certain tension in the air as his cerulean eyes drown in your own, nothing but the crackling of the candle wick and your combined breaths filling the void.

“Thank you, for taking me out tonight,” your eyes trace his jaw to his lips before flicking back to his own. “I—I wasn’t doing too well.”

“I know,” he nods his head in understanding. “I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mrs Nguyen so happy to see me walk through that door with someone other than myself.”

“Is that why she’d check on our table every five minutes despite the fact we were the only people dining there?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his chopped hair. “Seems so.”

For the first time in a very long time, you feel your lids getting heavy as your body sinks further into the mattress. There’s a warmth rather than that awful cool you feel so often, and it’s starting to become a challenge to keep your eyes open.

After what feels like an eternity of struggle you lift your head slightly to notice how Bucky’s lashes now rest on his cheeks, lips parted to let out quiet breaths. And suddenly in this moment you are safe, and everything is okay.

Your lips meet his forehead in a soft, gentle kiss. “Thank you.” Before you rest your head a little closer to his own and fall into a sleep you’d been praying for.

211 notes · View notes

jerreeeeeee · 3 months

Text

It was only a blur. A flash of a face. A familiar silhouette. The way the man moved as he walked away down the street. Barry almost hesitated, almost didn't turn around. It was hard to see in the waning evening light, and he could nearly remember someone teasing him about his bad eyes. A voice he couldn't hear. It slipped from his mind as soon as he tried to grasp it.

The man went into a tavern. Barry followed him. It was a loud and crowded place, swanky, not what he would've chosen. There was a big stone hearth with a roaring fire that lit the place warmly, a nicely polished bar, tables full of people. There was a pool table in the back, in a way that made a kind of sense to him, even though he didn't know why it felt right, like weird, comforting, and deeply unsettling deja vu. The man he was following hadn't gone back there yet, but he was eyeing it from his seat. Barry went to the bar, put down the gold for a room and a drink, and before he could think better of it, sat right next to him.

The man hardly spared him a glance, focused on tearing apart the meal in front of him. He ate like he was starving. Barry tried not to stare, but kept looking at him out of the corners of his eyes. His face was fuzzy and out of focus and almost seemed like someone Barry should know. His ears flicked back and he shot Barry a look. Caught, he tried to pretend like he'd been looking at the pool table.

The man finally looked up. He followed his gaze to the table. Looked back at him, up and down. Especially down. At his shoes. Then back at the table, and then finally met his eyes. "Hey," he said. "What's your name?"

"Barry," Barry answered. "What's yours?"

"Taako," he answered. The beginnings of a grin tugged at his face. "How's a game of pool sound?"

Barry wiped his mouth and set down his fifth beer. "This is it," he said. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna get this one."

"You're more fun than I gave you credit for, Bluejeans!" Taako hollered. He'd had just as much to drink as Barry, who, despite appearances, could apparently party. "But still not good at pool. Let's see it." He leaned back in his chair and smiled easily, and rested his feet on the edge of the pool table. Barry eyed his own boots enviously. He'd lost the first round. And the second. That was two chances for the two boots—no one ever said Taako was uncharitable (well, actually, many people had said that). But Barry was doing better this time, with his glasses on the line. And Taako was having fun.

There was a gaping hole where his heart should be, as long as he could remember. It wasn't filled now, certainly. It still hurt if he thought about it. But there was a small, fluttering warmth there that grew hard to ignore the longer he laughed with Barry. It had been a long time since he'd really talked to anyone. The banter between him and Barry was comfortable and easy. His laugh was rusty, but he couldn't stop it from bubbling up out of the warmth in his chest.

Barry aimed his cue, and in a rather impressive and familiar maneuver, the ball sunk. "Ha!" Barry crowed, and finished the beer. "Guess I'm not so bad!" He turned around to face Taako, who had, just a moment before, had every appearance of enjoying himself.

Taako was no longer laughing. "Who taught you how to do that?"

"Huh?" Barry asked, looking back at the table like it'd tell him what he'd done.

Taako rose angrily. "Hey, who the fuck do you think you are? Have you been following me or something?" That was his move. He'd invented it as a kid... at least, he thought so. He'd been using it for a long time, anyway. But he hadn't tonight. Now that he thought about it, Barry had been playing just like he usually did.

"What?" Barry asked stupidly.

"I'm done, man," Taako replied. "I don't—I'm leaving." Whether Barry was an overzealous fan or a family member priming him for a revenge murder, Taako didn't want anything to do with it. He'd thought he was far enough away, somewhere he'd never been before, halfway across the continent, but this just kept following him—

"Hey, what about my shoes?" Barry asked, starting to get angry as well.

"I won them, asshole!"

"We're in the middle of a game!"

"Too bad!"

"W-At least let me—look, I-I already spent all my gold on a room, but you can have it if you give me my shoes back," Barry said wretchedly. "I can't—I need shoes."

"Then you shouldn't have bet them," Taako said, but his anger dampened. The guy seemed genuinely bewildered, and anyway, Taako couldn't afford a room here. Or anywhere else. It'd been a long time since he'd slept in a bed. It wasn't nearly as good as gold, but a night's sleep... Couldn't hurt to leave it to chance. "Tell you what," he said, "we'll finish the game. If you win, I'll take the room, and you can have your shoes back."

Barry grinned. "You're on."

Barry eyed the ball, drinks forgotten. He kind of desperately needed a win. "So," he said, trying for conversational, "what'd you even get mad about?"

Taako, also, had given up on flippancy. "You were playing just like me. I thought you'd been watching me or something."

"I have been," Barry answered, and noticed Taako's shoulders stiffen. He blushed. "Not- not like that. We've been playing all night. And, I mean, not to say I'm giving up, but you're a lot better than me. I kinda need any pointers I can get."

"Yeah," Taako said. "That is true. Maybe that was it."

The balls clattered and the one Barry had aimed for bounced away from its pocket. "Fuck."

Taako took his place and aimed his cue. The table scattered and two balls sunk. Barry was facing down a tomorrow without shoes. The coin'd told him he only needed enough gold for the night, with extra just in case—but that was extra before all the beers, and the chicken wings, and the room at the nice, expensive inn with the pool table he'd followed Taako into on a whim. He didn't even really know why he did it. There was just something about Taako... something that made his chest ache less, just like the coin said.

The game went on late into the night. The other people in the tavern slowly trickled away, upstairs or out the door to cheaper inns, until the room was left dim and quiet. Barry's turns always took too long, but Taako never told him to hurry up. The balls clinked together and sunk into their pockets one by one, until Taako took his last shot, and his last ball disappeared. Barry stared despondently.

Taako stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly. "Well, guess that's it," he said with finality, still wearing Barry's boots. "See ya."

"Good game," Barry said hollowly, and walked to the stairs on socked feet. He made it about halfway up before he realized Taako wasn't moving that way either, or leaving.

Taako sighed. "Hang on, Bluejeans." Barry stopped. "Alright, here. Take your shoes. I don't need them. It was enough just to kick your ass."

Surprised at the offer of mercy, Barry came back down, and Taako handed his boots back, looking away, toward the empty bar.

"Thanks," Barry said.

"Sure," Taako said. "Whatever. What the hell am I gonna do with your boots? I have to be nimble, dude, and they're clunky as hell."

Barry went to go back up the stairs, but something stopped him. Taako still didn't make to leave. His clothes were awful ragged, threadbare and patched. He was still looking out at the room, and his eyes rested on the fireplace, where the fire had burned down to warm embers. It was cold at night this time of year, wasn't it?

"You can stay in my room if you don't have anywhere else to go," Barry blurted before he could think.

Taako looked back at him. "What?"

Barry flushed. He might still be a little drunk. "I-it just seemed like you weren't leaving... If you have a room somewhere else, sorry, but I was-"

"Inviting me to your room?" Taako asked incredulously. "What, are we gonna cuddle? Or are you coming on to me?"

"No," Barry said, embarrassed, even though he could tell Taako was fucking with him. Somehow, he could tell. "I just—look, you don't have to, I just thought it'd be nice to offer. Better than nothing. And you gave me my shoes back, so fair's fair."

Taako glanced back again toward the door, and the fireplace. "Alright," he said slowly, like he was surprised at himself. "You know what, why not."

Taako wasn't all that impressed. For a nice inn, it wasn't much. The bed was large, but other than that the room was mostly empty, and still chilly. Drafty window. Bare wooden floors. Well, he had a decent bedroll, at least, and it wouldn't be nearly as cold in there as outside. Even so, for a moment he stared longingly at the thick blankets on the bed. Then he started unfurling his bedroll in the clear space on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Barry asked.

"Going to sleep, dude. Gotta get a full eight hours." Elves were supposed to meditate, but he wasn't able to. He didn't know why. He just knew most of them did it with other elves nearby.

"On the floor?" Barry asked. Taako looked at him quizzically and he stammered, "I-I mean, it's a nice place—the bed's pretty big, y'know? I wouldn't mind."

"Thought you said you weren't coming on to me," Taako said, half joking and half uncomfortable. Not for any reason, really. He was far more comfortable than he ought to be.

"I'm not!"

Taako opened his mouth to say, I'm not spooning with a stranger, but something deep in his subconscious told him that wouldn't be quite accurate. Some part of him felt at ease. Something about this guy had compelled him to give the shoes back. He’d never given the shoes back before. He couldn't imagine why he did this time. Someone who seemed kind wasn't to be trusted. And yet...

"God," he muttered to himself, "what the hell am I doing?" Then, out loud, "Fine!" And before he could think any more about it he crawled into bed. Well, he crossed from where the bedroll on the floor was laid out, over to the left side of the bed, against the wall. Barry sat down on the right. He was between Taako and the door. No easy escape. Why the hell had he gone to a particular side at all? It wasn't like he was used to sharing. It wasn't like he'd ever had anyone to share with, enough to have a side. Whatever. He blamed it on the alcohol. Actually, he was just gonna blame all of this weird situation on the alcohol. All this warmth spilling over inside his chest. Well, what was done was done. Even if he couldn't understand why he'd done it.

Besides, Barry was a heavy sleeper. Something made him certain of that.

"Touch me and I'll curse your ass," Taako warned.

"My ass is already cursed," Barry mumbled, face buried in a pillow. "'M lactose intolerant."

That sounded right. That sounded exactly right. He didn't know how he knew these things.

Taako laid back cautiously, more out of habit than anything. He should be expecting something. He didn't have anything worth stealing, really, but there were definitely people who'd want to kill him. He should be falling asleep expecting to have his throat cut in the night.

But Barry was already snoring, and for some reason that sound made his eyes so heavy. Barry was a solid presence at his back, between him and the door, and for some reason, that made all his tensed muscles relax for the first time in a long, lonely time. Partly from the shared blanket and partly from this other, confusing feeling, Taako felt warm. The last thing he thought before he drifted off was that there was a space between them, a space that Barry had very carefully left at his request. And he wished there wasn't.

When Barry woke up to midmorning sunlight streaming through the inn room's window, for a moment the weight in his chest was light, and he felt, for the first time in years, that maybe he'd finally found a piece of his shattered self. Then he looked beside him, and the space there was empty and long cold. The ache came thundering back.

But the sheets had definitely been slept in.

#sorry i'm not done. still Thinking about them #mine #fanfic #the adventure zone #taz #taz balance #taako #taz taako #barry bluejeans

128 notes · View notes