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#if you're reading this i appreciate you also how the fuck did you find me
mypoisonedvine · 9 months
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"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader
(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth
once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!
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Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.
The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.
But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…
He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.
Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.
~
The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.
For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.
"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.
"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.
"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.
"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.
"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"
Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."
He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.
"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”
As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.
“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."
"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"
"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.
"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."
You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.
“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”
You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”
“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”
“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”
Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.
And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.
….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!
“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 
“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.
“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”
“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”
“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”
“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.
Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.
“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”
You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.
“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.
For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.
“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.
“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”
Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.
He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?
“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”
“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”
You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”
You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.
“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.
“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.
Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.
Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.
~
The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.
“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.
And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.
It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”
Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.
“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."
Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.
“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”
You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.
“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”
It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”
“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.
“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”
“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”
“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.
“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”
Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.
“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.
You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.
“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.
“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.
“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.
“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”
You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”
You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.
“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.
“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”
“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”
He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.
“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”
Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  
“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”
You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.
“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.
“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”
He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  
“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.
“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”
"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"
Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.
A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  
"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"
He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"
As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.
"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.
“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”
You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”
“Open your legs,” he ordered.  
Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  
“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.
He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.
Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.
Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  
You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?
He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  
“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”
You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”
He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.
“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”
You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.
“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”
He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 
“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”
He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.
“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”
This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.
“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”
You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.
“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”
You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”
Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.
You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.
“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.
You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…
But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.
“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”
“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.
“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”
You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”
Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.
Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.
Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.
“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”
You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.
“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”
The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.
“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”
Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.
“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”
But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”
“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”
You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.
“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.
“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”
He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…
As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 
"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.
Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.
Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.
You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.
“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.
“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”
Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.
“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.
He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 
"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"
He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…
"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."
You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.
“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”
You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Answer me," he insisted.
"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.
"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.
"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.
“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”
“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”
"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"
He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.
"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."
You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.
He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"
You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.
“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  
At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.
“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”
Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“
He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”
As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  
You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.
“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”
“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).
It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  
It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  
"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"
“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.
“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.
You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”
He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?
“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”
He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.
He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?
As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.
“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.
You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.
“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.
Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.
“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.
He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.
When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  
It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.
“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”
You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.
“He looks at you different now.”
You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 
Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.
“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”
Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”
“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”
You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.
He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.
“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”
“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”
“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.
“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 
Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.
“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”
“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.
“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”
You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”
“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”
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inkedbybarnes · 24 days
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anything
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.
i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷
dividers by @cafekitsune!
reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡
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“can you please let me in, baby?"
that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.
“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”
your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.
“just because you're what? sick?”
you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.
“how did you open the door?”
bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”
you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”
“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”
“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”
“like what?"
“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”
you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.
“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”
with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.
“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”
you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.
you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.
“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”
you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.
bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.
“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”
“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”
“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”
this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"
"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."
you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.
“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”
“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.
“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”
“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”
“anything?”
he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."
( a lil bonus < 3 )
“what is that smell?”
sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.
the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.
sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.
“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"
"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."
“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”
their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.
"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."
"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.
bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."
"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"
bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."
clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."
"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"
"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."
"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."
bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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magerightsmagefights · 3 months
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I know people tend to forget Wyll a lot in this fandom (I wonder why. What Could Possibly Be Different. Can you spot the difference?/s) but I'm genuinely surprised at the lack of Durge x Wyll content. Especially if you're going Redeemed, there's that inherent flavor of "My lover cannot know the truth, I am horrible and they would hate me, they would be correct to hate me." And with Wyll it's just... so juicy, he's so pure and shining, and Durge is so filled with filth and misery that there's barely a person left underneath.
Idk, as a femme romance reader I've spent so many years reading the "love redeems" arc where a FMC plays beauty to an MMC beast, in every genre, medium, budget, etc. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but beauty and the beast as a story structure has never done it for me.
until it's reversed, apparently, because Wyll as the beauty to Durge's beast needs to be injected directly into my veins like yesterday. All the other companions are good and sweet, don't get me wrong, but their reactions are coded like 'i accept you,' where Wyll to me comes off much more as 'we will heal you.' He doesn't have any funny little quips about you trying to bite him, no innuendos, no "I Will Put You Down" a la Laezel, he's just... so good, and he believes in your inherent goodness, he so easily sees "you" and "your urges" as wholly seperate entities he would step between if he could.
Speaking of which!! The coronation scene, when everyone finds out you're Bhaalspawn? I never see anyone talking about Wyll's reaction compared to other companions getting angry (even Dark Shadowheart will yell at you) because Wyll seems to be the ONLY PERSON who immediately separates you(the person he knows) from you(the person you used to be). Astarion isn't angry, he even appreciates your scheme freeing him from Cazador, but he also kinda falls into the whole "I will talk to you as if you are the exact same person who did these things, this is Your True Nature and I feel positive about it."
Wyll's reaction feels like the only one saying "You WERE that," instead of "You ARE that." It also feels like the only one that kinda-sorta acknowledges Durge's actual amnesia, because he doesn't treat this revelation like a betrayal the way the other "good" companions do. They be saying "The real evil was hiding within our ranks all along" like wym hiding? Durge didn't know either, how tf they supposed to tell you?
Wyll doesn't even blink. Once he knows what you are, his No.1 priority is reassuring YOU about it. The fact you're Bhaalspawn isn't a betrayal; it's a Horrible Burden and he's sorry you have to bear it, but there have been others like you who were good, who overcame, and your blood isn't who you are. His first instinct is to offer hope, to reassure you that there's a way out, he believes so hard that your urges are a defeatable enemy and he's ready to fight them with you.
(I also fall into the Durge And Gortash Fucked camp, and I cannot overstate the tastiness of Durge waltzing into the coronation of their ex, the Worst Man Alive, while bringing along their new boyfriend, the Best Man Alive)
Idk, I've just never engaged in a romance where I played the part of the Beast. As much as people rag on pure, princely archetypes, I don't actually see them that often. I genuinely don't remember the last time I read/saw a male lead behave like Wyll, but I've seen plenty of Astarions, Fenrises, Rhysands, etc. Romance loves a fixable MMC, but so rarely an MMC who wants to do the fixing.
Anyway. Justice for Wyll or whatever. I can only cross my fingers that future DLC will include more romance content, because we all deserve to have a Beauty for our Beast sometimes.
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etfrin · 3 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter eighteen | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | non-con/dub con hints, hints of knife and mild blood consumption, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide, mentions of Dr. Gaul, choking | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow has his hands on you and he's not playing
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 @tristanswildcat thank you for feedback! and y'all also make sure to let me know your thoughts for the chapter!
Beta read by the lovely 🌹 @nowitsmissing
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Coriolanus walks behind you. The silence is deafening, the tension could be cut with a knife. The upper floors had bedrooms assigned to every Capitol ‘guest’ that had come. Snow was walking you to yours. You don't say a word to him; you keep walking forward searching for your room number.
You make a soft noise as you find your assigned room. You take out the key that was given to you and you push the key into the keyhole. Your eyes flicker at Coriolanus. But it was impossible to see his emotions, his face was cold and passive. As if you're nothing.
You open the door, unaware of the danger.
You walk in, and Coriolanus follows.
Not even a second has passed and you find yourself pinned to the door. Coriolanus grins as he sees the flash of fear in your eyes. ‘Be afraid of me, dove,’ he thinks. Be afraid. Coriolanus Snow was going to punish you.
And you're going to take it.
He knew he was capable of killing you. He was mad enough for that. He also knew he would kill himself right after because there would be nothing to live for.
“Hi, dove,” he smirked.
“Remember me?” He hissed in anger.
“Cory-” Before you could finish calling him by his nickname, he cuts off your airway with his hand on your throat. He pressed hard, making you gasp. He was taking your breath away.
“Don't call me that, bitch,” he growled. You squirm under his hold but don't fight back. He likes how you're giving in. You're letting yourself surrender like a broken toy. Good girl.
You gasp, trying to say his name again. He pressed harder, making your eyes nearly roll back. He then loosens the hold, letting you take small amounts of air so that you would remain conscious.
Coriolanus takes out a pocket knife that he keeps in his pants at all times. He chuckled as your eyes began to panic and your trash in his hold. “I'll stab your heart if you keep acting up, sweety,” he whispered to your ear. The threat has you relaxing in his hold, though you whimper in fear. Coriolanus would feel ashamed later that he could feel his cock harden from the sound.
Such a fucking drug you are, making him high after all these months. He needs to overdose or else he doesn't think he'll survive. “You…” he said, “you're a horrible, horrible being.” With every word, he squeezed your neck. “I hate you.” It was a lie obviously, but Coriolanus figured that you'd never find out.
Tears begin to fill your eyes. Coryo ignored the pang of pain in his heart. He takes the pocket knife and lets the blade slowly drag against your cheek. He doesn't let it break the skin, not yet. He takes the blade down until he reaches the button of your shirt. One by one he cuts them off, exposing your body to him. He hums in appreciation of your beauty.
“But you still belong to me.”
He lets the knife break skin. He was cutting you near your hip. He could hear you hiss. He doesn't care. He carves out two letters on your skin. CS. Coriolanus Snow. That way you can never forget about him again like you did for all these months. He made sure of it. Every time you look at your body, it will remind you of him.
Snow would never leave your mind now.
Coriolanus felt proud of himself for achieving that. He lets the pocket knife fall on the floor and traces the bloody cut with his finger. He takes his bloody finger and smears the red on his lips. His tongue peeks out to lick the metallic liquid and he groans as he has your taste on his tongue. Is it disgusting of him to think that was delicious? God, district twelve has fucked him up.
“You're so fucking addicting. I should kill you,” he said to you as he sucks his lower lip for any lingering taste. He then pressed a kiss to your cheek, his hold around your neck completely loosening. Now it just stayed there like a leash.
You gasp, taking much-needed air as Coryo nuzzles his face to your neck. The smell of blood fills the room and you whisper his name,
“Coryo.”
He felt the anger rushing back, “You don't get to call me that anymore, dove.” He adds, “You lost the fucking right.” Tears begin to fall from your eyes. “Coryo- please-” you plead, afraid of him.
He felt more anger by the fact that you thought that he would hurt you. He would never! “No- fuck off! Shut up!” He yells, he hopes that the walls are thick here. He pressed his lips to yours, shutting off your begging. He kisses like he's starved and he is. He savagely bites your lower lip, sucking your tongue. He groans into your mouth. He doesn't break the kiss, no matter how sloppy it gets.
He hadn't realized that he had begun to choke you again until you stopped kissing back. Your eyes were closed and your unconscious body was supported by him. He takes you to your bed and lays you down slowly. He looks at you, your shirt torn, your body exposed, and your mind shut off.
He frowned, he thought he would like you see you like this. But he didn't at all. He remembered the first time he had been pinned against a door. It was in his penthouse, you were bleeding that day too. But in a different way. He fucked you with his fingers that night, and you were out of it from pleasure. He preferred that much more. He thought of you as pathetic right now.
Anybody could come and take advantage of you. Coriolanus couldn't let that happen. He finds out there's a first aid kit in your suitcase. He takes off your ruined shirt. He wets a cotton ball with antiseptic, he then presses the bud on your cut. He cleans it up to the best of his abilities and stops the bleeding. He then takes out an oversized t-shirt… which he recognizes as his.
He furrowed his eyebrows, confused about why you would keep his t-shirt. He clenched his jaw, a bit mad that Tigris had given it to you. He hadn't checked any of her new letters and it was time he spoke to her anyway. He then dresses you up in his old t-shirt. Then he waits… and waits.
He wondered how long he knocked you out for and if he should leave. But he doesn't. It's too risky to leave you alone in a place filled with filthy peacekeepers. Then he hears you murmur in your sleep,
“Please, Dr. Gaul, let me talk to him. Please, I beg of you. He's sorry, I promise.”
You wake up with a startle, crying out his name as you sit up. Your eyes are wide as you look around the unfamiliar room. Then your eyes land on him and you remember. You practically tackle him. Your limbs caging him into a hug. You were on his lap. And you were sobbing so loudly.
“Coryo, Coryo, Coryo,” you repeat his name like a prayer. You pulled back slightly and then you raised your hand to slap him, hard. It stings. He knew that it would leave a mark.
“Why didn't you reply to any of my letters, you bastard!? And you called me a bitch! The fucking audacity!”
Your hand wraps itself around his throat.
It was at this moment that he knew, he fucked up.
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lightwing-s · 2 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞
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pairing: jason todd x fem! reader
summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.
word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this) warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.
a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist
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You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.
Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.
It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..
And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.
In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.
At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.
Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.
Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.
He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.
Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.
You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours. 
Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.
“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.
You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.
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. 8:24 PM
hey, how are you feeling?
. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it . not really kill for it . yk...
🤣
You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.
“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.
“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply. 
“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.
“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.
“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”
You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.
“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”
“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”
“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.
Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.
Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.
“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.
“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.
“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.
Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”
You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?
“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time
“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.
“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.
Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.
“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”
“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.
“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..
“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.
“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.
“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”
“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”
“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.
“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.
“I’ll get it done,” you said, following  his move. “Eventually.”
Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.
“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.
For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.
Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.
When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.
“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.
Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.
And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.
“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”
Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.
Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?
“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”
Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.
“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”
“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.
He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.
His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.
“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.
“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”
“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”
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Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.
Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment. 
The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up. 
You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.
Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.
You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.
“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.
“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”
“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”
Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.
“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”
“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.
“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”
You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”
“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”
Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.
You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.
“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.
“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.
“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.
“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”
Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.
“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working. 
Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled  into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.
“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”
“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.
“That’s different.”
“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.
“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.
Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.
“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.
“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.
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It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.
He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.
You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.
“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”
“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.
“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.
There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.
The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.
“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”
“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.
You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.
He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby. 
All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.
“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”
It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.
His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.
You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.
“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.
“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”
Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.
“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.
“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”
Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”
Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”
“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”
Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.
“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.
The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.
Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.
You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.
Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.
But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.
Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.
“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with. 
Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.
“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”
Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.
“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”
You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly. 
What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.
“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”
The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.
You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.
“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”
With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.
“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”
“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.
Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.
“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.
“I better head home.”
“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.
“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.
“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.
Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.
“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.
“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.
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“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.
“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.
“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you. 
Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.
Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”
It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses  in the increasingly chilly days of September.
“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.
“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”
You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.
“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”
Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.
And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.
“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another. 
The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant. 
“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”
One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time. 
At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.
A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.
Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.
You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”
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It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute  pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on. 
“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.
It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.
But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.
All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.
A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.
It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.
Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.
In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.
Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.
“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”
“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.
No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.
“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.
“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”
“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.
“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”
You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.
“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”
“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”
“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”
“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.
“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.
“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”
“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”
“In your room.” 
Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.
You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition. 
Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.
“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”
His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.
“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.
You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.
Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.
“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”
Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”
“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”
Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.
You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”
“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”
“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.
“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.
“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.
The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.
“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”
Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.
“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”
“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”
“Daddy, I-I…”
You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”
His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.
“Get your things and get away from this house.”
You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.
Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.
“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”
“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”
“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”
You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”
Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.
“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”
Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away. 
You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.
Great. Just fucking great.
.
.
tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona
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sanji-piss-hell · 5 months
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ZOSAN FIC REC
Here is some of my fave zosan fics. Some of these I read years ago and so I don't fully remember what theyre about but they we're good enough that I still have strong emotional attachments when I see the name. Most of them are things I've read recently. Literally all I do all day is homework and have an app tts fanfics to me like an audio book so there's quite a few of recs here. I am not the best at summeries but just trust me bro these are GOOD SHIT. I only provide the best. What I consider a good fic: - Takes place in the one piece world (I don't like modern aus) - Characters stay in character or if they do have changes from their canon portrayal there is a justifiable reason from within the story. - Solid story telling and arcs (even the shorter fics) - The Zosan dynamic is kept mostly how it is in canon they fight and bicker. (I know some like when they're soft with eachother like a loving married couple. You won't find much of that here) - Some of these have pervy sanji, que nose bleeds and ogling. With that out of the way here's the list!! Now to my fave zosan fic of all time and ironically enough the only fic taking place in a modern setting: Life is fine series. TW: Drug abuse, heavy angst, depression I have reread this twice and forced a friend to read it too. It is so amazing not just for the zosan but for the genuinely good story telling. You follow zoro reeling from his sudden loss of relationship with Sanji and falling down a...Well uh, path. It's fucked it's dark it's depressing and its fucking riviting. Alot of the time reading this you're just like WHY DID SANJI LEAVE HIM WHAT IS GOING ON??? Honestly I need to reread this again. Onto softer fics to heal your heart after that one: Honor in limits, his strengths in weakness By Hawksbrood
“Fucking hell cook, what happened to you?” Zoro demanded, voice low so as not to disturb the others sleeping nearby.
Sanji rolled his eyes. “What do you think? I told you we got in a fight earlier.”
“Not that, your fucking feet!”
The cook snarled at that, crushing his cigarette in his teeth. “What the fuck do you mean, my feet? They’re just feet!”
Zoro’s eyes widened, looking at the bruised flesh before him. This wasn’t that.
This was just so good and cute. I appreciate watching zoro appreciate sanji. They take care of eachother but in a way where theyre both still them yeah know? I appreciate how sanji is written letting himself be vulnerable but understanding that he's always gonna be crass cause it's just a part of who he is.
come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee
The one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride.
Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.
I reread this one recently and it's just soft and sweet. I like watching sanji flounder around. The gay panic is great.
a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew. I read this like 3 years ago and I dont remember much but I do remember loving it!
Part Timer By 8ball Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together. Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways. I am sure everyone knows 8ball very well they're like zosan famous but still just in case this one is really fucking good. Also read this 3 years ago so I don't remember much but I consider this a zosan classic. Onto the rated R Grand Buffet by asyndese Drunk fic!! If there was one thing Zoro knew, it was that you could always trust Sanji's inclinations to do a beautiful 180 as soon as he was drunk. Luckily, Zoro was more than equipped to handle it. I spent. 30 minutes. Trying to find this fic again because that's how much I loved it. It altered my brain chemistry. Sanji getting a nose job during sex is just. aaaaaaaaa. Read it. Cannot suggest enough. Horrors not yet known by Trixree
Sanji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, is the thing. Of all the times he has seen Zoro shirtless (in battle, mostly) he just… never noticed. The problem is, once he has noticed, Sanji can’t seem to stop noticing. And neither can anyone else.
In which Zoro has a nipple piercing and Sanji has a Problem.
I recently reread this and the first time I read it I didn't really get the whole gender sanji shit. Now though???? Yeah another fic that rewired my brain chemistry. This fic opened doors for me it exposed me to a new world. Also sanji gay panic is in here and I live for that. It can be pretty raunchy (love that too) Three rounds with a tiger by KobochaKitsune Another drunk Fic!! also in modern times damn maybe I lied sdklfj
Liquid courage, drunken decisions, terrible euphemisms, and texts from last night, or: how to think entirely with the booze (and your dick) for once.
Or: By the time Sanji got to the party, everyone was already drunk.
I read this 3 years ago (theres a trend going on can you tell??) It also rewired my brain chemistry (from this point on just assume all of these nsfw fics rewired my brain chemistry each of these opened doors for me. This one opened the doors to bottom zoro.) Fucking 20k words of just pwp. I dont even know how the author did that bro like damn. Nature of things by stark_black Tw: Sex work and prostitutes When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit. I hunted this down for like fucking hours a couple of weeks ago because it was that good. Stark_Black has a fucking library worth of zosan fics this one is a classic to me. But if you want more content check out his other fics I think they have like over 100 zosan its kinda insane. Coregasm by Yakarmi
Sanji discovers that sometimes, Zoro has orgasms while he lifts.
-----
“You…” Sanji trailed off, gaze turning down as he licked his lips. Pink tongue darting out nervously. “You orgasm when you exercise?”
Zoro clenched his jaw. Shrugged. Trying to act nonchalant.
“Sometimes.”
Sanji’s eye went wide, and like his mouth had suddenly been liberated from his brain, blurted out, “that’s so fucking hot,” before clamping his hands over his mouth. His cigarette fell from his mouth, bouncing soundlessly on the ground.
Bro bestie, the way this put me on nose bleed Sanji. Perv sanji. I need that gif thats like mmm cause man this is good. Ending this fic rec with a BANG we have
Contingencies and Congruencies by PeaceSignDisasterBi
Somewhere between finishing the bottles of alcohol and mugs of beer, the crew comes together to create a contingency plan for something that may-or-may-not-happen during their time on the Grand Line and beyond. Usopp thinks it's more likely than bumping into zombies, Zoro wants to stay out of this, Sanji is just going with the flow, and Nami may or may not keep things legally binding and above board with consistent consensual acquiescence. Robin finds it all amusing.
The damn chart stays in the locked drawer in her desk, split into three neat categories: Devil Fruit Powers, Science, and Magic. Each represents whatever they're hit with but also categorizes the amount of self-control the person has during.
AKA: 5 times Zoro and Sanji had to help each other as Consensual Helpers of Dubious Consent + 1 Time There Was Nothing Dubious At All
Ok this is 152k long its pretty insane. It regoes over the arcs so throughly so carefully that I literally had to question my memory because I havent experienced alot of these arcs in a while (it's one of the reasons im rewatching one piece). I will say despite how amazing and well written this is I had a hard time comprehending sometimes. now I was sick at the time of reading this so that might be why but sometimes the way things were phrased felt like yoda talking. I think it's just me though. I'm not used to big words :( And thats a wrap!! These arent even all the ones I wanted to include I have at least 20 more off the top of my head but I'll save that for another day. I hope you find joy in these fics Like i did I'll def do another one of these as cause I didnt even touch my sanji centric fics or germa 66 or just in general the best sanji fanfic writers. (Mentioned some of them like 8ball, thousand sunny and donuts and coffee.) Best of luck to yall and let me know what you think!
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theauthorunicorn · 6 months
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1 A.M. | Gojo Satoru
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an unmistakable angst festering within me that I need to let out.
note: if i was to be asked what type of drabbles, fanfic that i could and would read in my lifetime, I'll choose angst, that undescribed feeling that you wanted to punch the wall and angrily shout at someone. anyway, enjoy! reblogs, comments and like is really appreciated :)
not proof read
word count: 1128 word (wow)
Gojo Satoru x Reader
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
Satoru can't be explained in few words, if you can describe him, you'll be lost in your own words. Before, there were days that you only look at him, afar, adoring and silently loving him. But, for the past few years he is, was yours and you were his.
It didn't take long for him to fall in love with you, with his best friend out of the picture you gladly fill out the empty vastness within him. Shoko was there as well but you gave him the kind of attention that he needed that time.
For the past few months, you've been noticing the distance between the two of you. You assured yourself that you may be feeling this way since you've never seen each other and spent time together. Satoru also promises that the missions had been taking him to places and made him tired, so he'll just stay on his apartment to rest and will see you soon - this promise were also accompanied by mumbled I miss you and whispers of I love you's.
Late Saturday evening you're both watching the TV. You leaned comfortably in the sofa scanning the channels to land on a perfect show while Satoru was laying on your lap maybe asleep.
A long sigh broke the silence, "I'm sorry," you lowered down the volume, "I just can't find a good show."
He hummed in agreement, "Nah, your good." He said as he traced line over your skin.
"Do you think I changed?" Satoru asked without looking at you.
"What do you mean? Physically or what?" You played together with his antics.
"I mean, you spent a lot of time waiting for me and then I'll just call or text you that I will not be coming or even ditching our dates just because I was busy."
He noticed it too, "Uhm, I guess I understand your tired and missions had been longer and tiring, you know, so, I also try to understand it." You answered him.
"I just want you to know Y/N that I still feel the same way as when I first met you." He muttered. You can see that his trying to give you the assurance through his words that he can't physically show you.
But how long can you stay.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
You're both standing face to face as you bit your lips as you hold on to your tears, "You know what Y/N sometimes, no, honestly you suffocate me!" Satoru shouted, "How many times did I told you that we were just out drinking and you're here at my house demanding why I did not spend time with you instead? I do get a chance to choose how I spend my time right? I did not sign up for being with you all the time. Fuck, you're so annoying and clingy."
Long arguments with Satoru had been frequent. You're hurt, his word hurt, his gaze towards you hurts everything right now with Satoru hurts. You look at him trying to compose yourself if you should yell at him too, slap him, punch his pretty face, or just say -
"I'm sorry Satoru," you sighed, "I should not come here and demand your attention," you said slowly, "Yeah, missions and stuff is always the priority, right? We need to do that. I understand and I'm really sorry about -"
He looked at you without any emotions, maybe even regret about earlier instead of stopping he continues, "I hate that sometimes I get sick of you, Y/N. Fuck." He curses. The last words he said was so cruel and potent.
"I'm sorry again, Gojo." You look at him one last time trying to hold your tears. "I better get going, you need to rest." You walked away from him with a deep sigh and tears falling on your cheeks. It's one a.m. he should be asking you to stay and fix this mess, but he didn't. You walked away from the man that you loved the most that you let him break your heart a thousand pieces.
Thirty minutes passed you arrive in your apartment you phone pings, "Text me if your home, Y/N." You read it as tears falling in your screen. You left Gojo on read.
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You avoided Gojo after that night like a plague. Shoko asked you if everything was fine since Gojo had been asking about you through her. You simply smiled at her with hollow eyes and said that you just had a small argument with him, and everything is fine.
You lied to Shoko, and she knows that too.
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A week after that night you are avoiding Gojo had come to an end. A meeting was arranged to all staff to discuss an important matter. You tried to prolong your current mission to miss the meeting but -
"The meeting won't start without you in it." Shoko said softly over the phone.
"Why?" You chuckled, "It's not that I'm that important. You can just take note the minutes and pass it along."
"Yeah, I tried to stall them, but everyone is here waiting for you. Nanami is annoyed why your ass is still not here, Y/N."
"Fuck." You curse, "I don't want to be there, -"
"Are you coming or not?" Satoru asked you as he snatched Shoko's phone, that's only the reason why you're hearing his voice after a week.
You sighed, "I am. I'm just finishing this. Tell them to give me 15 minutes and I'll be there." You answered plainly.
"Where are you? I could come and get you instead."
"No, no need. I'm done." You end the call.
You were panting as you run across the Jujutsu Tech. You know you're a mess, hair in a messy bun, a cut on your cheeks, a bruise in your arm and thighs.
You opened the door and all eyes on you, "This meeting better be so important that you all required me to sit in after a fucking mission." You rolled your eyes and grab the nearest chair to sit between Nanami and Shoko.
Gojo stood up and walked towards you, "Are you even okay, Y/N. We could let Shoko check you first -"
"No, I'm not okay Gojo," you hissed at him, "just fucking start this meeting so I could rest." You tried to smile sweetly at everyone.
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"You are calling Satoru, Gojo is not heard for years, babe. What happened?" Shoko asked as you let her tend your injuries at her clinic.
"I'm just tired and that meeting could have been an email, you know, Kento even agrees." You motion to Nanami sitting across.
"And humor me, why Satoru is off limits here? He's like a stray cat outside waiting for you."
"Let him be."
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You walked out and thanked Shoko for her assistance. True to her words Gojo was there sitting like a stray cat waiting for you. You did not acknowledge his presence and walk on the opposite way to which he was sitting. He noticed you while closing the door but the lack of attention to him proves that you're not really talking to him.
Instead, he followed you through the halls of Jujutsu Tech and stopping as well when your students stopped and said hi to you.
"Y/N-sensei, how are you?" Nobara asked, "I heard that you were hurt, and they still let you attend a meeting." She pouted.
"I'm fine." You assured her, "and were still watching that movie tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay sensei, and why is Gojo-sensei following you like a lost cat." She whispers. You shrugged and smile and continue walking.
You can still hear his steps following you. You completely ignored him. You wanted to do this to let him taste his own medicine. You stopped your tracks and grabbed your phone to call a cab.
Gojo snatched your phone, "I already called one. Let's just wait for our ride here."
"What do you mean our ride? I'm going home to rest, I'm tired." You demand him to hand your phone back.
"Yeah, were going home -"
"What the fuck, Gojo." You snarled at him.
"It's Satoru, Toru, babe or baby for you, love." He corrected his own name.
"You're so self-centered, you know that don't act like you fucking love me when you fucking told me about many nights before that you're re sick of me, that I'm so annoying and you're tired. I'm tired right now so can you please leave me."
"I know I was self-centered that night and I got so mad and lost my cool but it's because I'm just tired. I wanted to talk to you, but you avoided me like a plague, I don't even know what you were up to. I had to check with Shoko or Nanami to check what are you doing. I hate myself for saying such cruel things to you, you know it's not true right? You know that I feel the same way for you every day, even if I failed to show it to you, it's still the same. My heart aches when I think about you. The things that I have said - I'm really sorry, love."
"How much longer do you want me to be in pain, Gojo?" You asked him.
"It's Satoru even if you're mad at me," he shakes his head, "what? I don't want you to be in pain."
Gojo saw your pretty eyes saying that everything is over, you and he are done but he denies it. Your indifferent now, cold and as if you're digging a grave to bury all the memories that you had with him. Gojo still denies it.
"We're done. I'm breaking up with you and you don't get a chance to say anything after what I've been through. I think about this for a past couple of days, Gojo. I'm done with you, I'm not sorry for this."
Gojo Satoru remained on his foot as he watched you walking away. Although all of him is breaking down because of you he doesn't have anything as of now to let you stay. But he knows deep down in this life, journey and world in which nothing last forever -
It's only you for him.
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hunny-bean · 10 months
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Hello, I have a Matt x reader x Frank castle smut request. Frank tells Matt what he does with you after his patrol, how tight you are and how good your pussy tastes. Frank takes Matt to his apartment and the two have a lot of fun with the reader. They use the reader like a sex doll. Despite the years with Frank, the reader is too tight and Matt is too big.
In High Demand
Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x F!Reader
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Summary: Matt's been overworking himself. Frank knows someone who can help him relax.
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Threesome, Oral Sex (M and F Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Praise and Degradation, An Obscene Amount of Dialogue, The Reader is Very Slutty (I'm Sorry. . . No I'm Not).
A/N: Well, I'm officially out of the frying pan and into the fire. Of course, by fire, I mean threesome. I'm sorry this took so long for me to finish. I'm a bit of a slow editor. If you have any constructive criticism, I will absorb ALL of it happily. I'm trying to improve my writing skills as much as I can. Also, I'm always taking requests! XOXO.
Read on AO3
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
"I really appreciate you helping me out with this, Frank."
Frank looked up from where he was sitting with his back against the brick barrier. "Yeah, well, I owed you one," he replied, "and I'm not a huge fan of being in debt."
The two vigilantes were resting on a vacant rooftop, listening closely for any signs of danger. Hearing nothing, Matt figured the "Devil of Hell's Kitchen" had driven everyone with something to fear from him back inside. He declared his nightly patrol a success. As soon as he switched off attack mode, he felt the exhaustion hit him, and he slumped down on the wall next to Frank.
"So, you're saying you did all this to balance the scales?" Matt asked incredulously.
"Just about," Frank muttered, scratching a little blood stain off the knife Matt let him borrow. "And I only beat up one guy, so it's not like I actually had to work for it."
"I'd say you worked hard enough. I mean, you did make it all night without killing anyone."
"There you go again with that self-righteous bullshit," Frank groaned. "What I don't get is why you would ask someone you constantly feel the need to babysit for help."
Taking a deep breath in, Matt forced himself to stand, getting ready for the walk back to his apartment.
"You were convenient," he explained. "I knew your skills and I knew where to find you. Also, you're not nearly as lethal without all your guns."
"Well, fuck you too," Frank grumbled. He waited for Matt to take a few steps towards the ladder before chucking the knife he was holding directly at the back of his head. He watched it spiral through the air, perfectly on course, only to land gingerly in Matt's hand. It was almost like the knife changed its trajectory at the last second, but Frank knew that wasn't the case. Besides, it's not like he actually wanted to hit him. He didn't even think that was possible.
Matt turned back in his direction. Even through the mask, Frank could feel the raised eyebrow. He ignored it. Hopping up, he made his way over so the two of them could walk together.
"Okay, but why ask for help at all?" Frank pressured. "It's obvious you can handle yourself, and you've never asked before."
"You know as well as anyone how unpredictable these streets can be," Matt began. "You're right, most nights I can handle myself, but. . . I wasn't so sure about tonight. I wanted someone there, just in case."
He was about to start climbing down the ladder, but Frank's voice stopped him before he could.
"Something tells me you're not gonna be so sure about tomorrow, either."
"What?"
"Come on, Red. Look at yourself. You're practically dead on your feet," Frank pointed out. "It's three in the goddamn morning, you just fought like fourteen people, and now, what? You're going home to get your two hours of sleep before work?"
"Four."
"That's still not enough, and you know it."
"I'll be fine," Matt asserted.
"No one can do that every night and be fine."
"Why do you care?"
"Because unlike some people, I actually respect what you do around here, and I don't wanna find out what this shithole would look like without you," Frank raved. There was a long silence after that, both men startled by the declaration.
"You won't."
Matt began his descent, ready to end their conversation. Frank, it seemed, had other plans.
"If you were fine, you wouldn't be taking the ladder," he called down after him.
Matt paused, resting his head against the metal rung in front of him. He was really starting to get aggravated by Frank's incessant concerns. The most annoying part was that he was right. Matt would usually make it home from patrol in two minutes flat, his feet touching nothing but rooftops. He picked a shorter building with a ladder tonight because he feared his body was too sore to make the jumps. To say it had been a rough week would be an understatement.
'You have nothing to prove,' he repeated in his head like a mantra. It worked at first; he made it another three steps down, but then he heard Frank's stupid voice again.
"Why won't you just admit that you're burnt out?"
Matt gritted his teeth, unable to hide his frustration any longer. He gave up on avoiding conflict and began climbing back up to the roof to be on the same level as Frank.
"I am not burnt out," he growled.
There was an awkward pause as Frank looked Matt up and down, thinking. He carefully considered his slumped posture and his shoulders racked with tension. Matt couldn't see him, but he could feel Frank's eyes examining him, and it made him uncomfortable. He was about to say something, but Frank broke the silence before he could.
"When's the last time you got laid?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"I'm sorry-"
"You're not a virgin, are you?"
"What? No!"
"So how long's it been?"
Matt wasn't sure how to feel about the sudden shift in the argument. he kinda felt like he was in a train headed towards a cliff that suddenly veered off course. He was safe from the fall, but who knew what lay ahead of him now?
"Why the hell would you want to know that?" he asked.
"Just answer the question."
"Uhh, a few months? I don't kn-"
He was interrupted again by Frank letting out a low, impressed whistle.
"That's even worse than I thought," Frank said.
"You've thought about this?" Matt asked, horrified.
"No, jesus christ, man, it's obvious. You're all tense 'n shit. You look like you haven't relaxed in a while, that's all."
Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. "I think we should go," he mumbled.
"I think you should get some."
"Ok, well it's not like you've got someone waiting for you at home either," Matt snapped.
Frank looked at Matt quizzically, letting out a surprised chuckle.
"What?" Matt asked, exasperated.
"Nothing," Frank responded. "It's just that you really are off your game."
"What are you talking about?"
"There is someone waiting for me at home right now."
"Bullshit."
"I thought you could, like, smell it on me or something," Frank speculated.
Now that he mentioned it, Matt did notice something different about Frank's unique smell. There was a slightly sweeter scent intertwined with his typical smoke and rosewood. He knew Frank wasn't lying, but for some reason he didn't want to believe it.
"I didn't hear anyone else inside when I came to get you," he added.
"She was out with some friends. She should be home by now."
"You realize how made up that sounds, right?"
"Cut the crap. You know it's true."
"Yeah, I know," Matt conceded. "She your girlfriend?"
"Yeah. . . At least, I think she is."
"Do you go out on dates often?" Matt supplied. He made a 'come on' gesture to encourage Frank to follow as he started down the ladder once more.
"I don't exactly know what counts as a date in your world, but I think we do." Frank inhaled sharply as he almost lost his footing on a loose bar.
"Wait, does she know who you are? The terms of your agreement-"
"I remember all the terms, thanks," Frank muttered. "I didn't tell her. She figured it out pretty quick though. Maybe I should grow a beard or somethin'."
"Do you love her?" Matt asked when they reached the bottom. The two of them started off in the same direction for their homes, taking only the deserted back alleys they were all too familiar with.
"Well I've only known her for three months," Frank answered, dusting little flakes of rust off his black jacket, "but I think I'm really starting to. She might just be the prettiest, sweetest girl I've ever known."
"That's a good sign. Okay, one last thing: Does she sleep with other people?"
Frank suddenly looked like he was remembering something funny. "Only if I ask her to," he smirked.
Matt was pretty sure his brain short-circuited, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "The correct answer would have been no," he deadpanned. "Why the hell would you ask someone to do that?"
"Well, Red, there's this thing you should know about my girl. I know she seems all cute and innocent at first, but she's actually the biggest slut I've ever met."
"Okay, TMI," Matt complained. Naturally, Frank ignored him. They began walking again, talking more about Frank's secret girlfriend.
"I'm telling you, man, she's perfect," he bragged. The night we met, I found her blowing some guy behind a bar."
Matt had to admit, that was a little amusing. "And what?" he asked, "you just went up to them and started hitting on her?"
"Not exactly," Frank laughed. "I was just walking home, and the guy she was with thought I said somethin' to him or some shit, 'cause he came over to me and started tryin' to pick a fight, right? Well, anyway, I knocked him out cold. Save the lecture, he was a dick wad and he wasn't even that drunk. But this girl, she thought it was hot, can you believe that? So, she starts hitting on me, saying I look strong and dangerous, 'cause apparently she's into that. She kept asking me to take her back to my place, and she was obviously hammered, so I did, just to keep her safe, you know? Almost immediately, she passes out on my bed, too tired to even try to fuck me anymore. Luckily, when she woke up, she remembered everything that happened, and I gave her my number in case she ever needed me to punch somebody else for her."
"And did she?" Matt prompted. He didn't actually care that much, but it was a decent story and it was definitely helping him keep his mind off his injuries.
"Yeah, two days later," Frank grinned. "She wasn't calling for a bodyguard, though. When I picked up, she told me she hadn't been able to stop thinking about me and was wondering if we could talk for a while so she could 'satisfy her curiosity'."
"She sounds very forward."
"You've got no idea. She's absolutely shameless, especially when she's drunk. You know, when she called me, she spent the whole conversation trying to pretend like she wasn't getting herself off."
"Wait, what?!"
"So, I had to sit there for an hour and listen to her try not to moan, and she's usually pretty good at staying quiet, but sometimes she gets so fuckin' wet that she just can't."
"That's disturbing," Matt lied, and was once again ignored.
"It's real easy for her to cover up the noises coming from her mouth, right? But the other ones. . . not so much. So, the whole time, I was just on my couch talking to her, and I was going absolutely insane 'cause I could hear what she was doing. After a little while, I just snapped and I told her if she wanted to hear my voice that badly, she could come over and I'd help her out."
"And?. . ."
"And she did."
"You slept with her the second time you met?"
"Yep. And the third, and the forth. . . probably the first eight times we got together. I mean, we were just goin' at it like every single night. It was amazing. She's so fuckin' tight, like tighter than most virgins. And she's damn good with her mouth. Like, the first time she sucked me off I almost saw your God. I don't think there's a single thing she can't do. Not much she won't do either."
"Really, dude. Stop."
"Whatever, man. I realized I actually liked her when she spent a full weekend at my place. We went out for lunch and played cards and watched a movie. She was just so smart and funny and I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving," Frank reminisced.
"So, is that when you asked her out?"
"No, that was when I asked her to move in with me."
Matt didn't even know where to start unpacking that. Before he could say anything, Frank stopped walking in front of a tall staircase behind a brick building.
"This is me," he announced.
"Hold on, you still haven't answered my question," Matt reminded him. "Why did you ask her to sleep with someone else?"
"Oh, yeah," Frank mused. "About a month ago, I went out for drinks with this old friend of mine, and was going on and on about how he hadn't gotten laid since his divorce. He seemed about her type, so I took him back to our place and had her take care of him for me."
"And she did it, just like that?"
"I told you she was great, didn't I?" Frank beamed.
"And neither of you cared?" That was something Matt was having trouble comprehending. He'd always been pretty possessive in his relationships, and the thought of sharing his partner was completely foreign to him.
"I am not a selfish man, Red. Anyone who dies without experiencing that pussy has never truly lived."
"Good to know."
Frank leaned casually against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.
"So, uh. . . you interested?"
It look Matt a moment to process what he was being asked, and when he did, he didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he didn't want to take any more help from Frank, especially not for something like this. He didn't want to come between a happy couple, either, even by invite. On the other hand, it had been a while, and the girl that had been described to him sounded remarkably satisfying. He began to realize that Frank was right: He seriously needed to get laid.
Frank decided Matt had been thinking a little too long.
"Do you like eating pussy?"
Matt was startled out of his inner turmoil. "You can't just fucking ask someone that," he hissed.
"Why not? You seem like you would," Frank stated nonchalantly.
"Fine. Yes, I do."
"Good. I'm tellin' you right now, there ain't a woman in all of New York that tastes sweeter than my baby. You get between her legs, you come out knowing things you didn't think were possible, swear to God."
"I find that hard to believe," Matt scoffed.
"I mean it. I could spend hours down there. I did once, actually, 'till we both passed out. . . But I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you? Come on, man. You really need this."
"I don't know, it just doesn't sound like such a good idea."
Frank rolled his eyes. "We're all adults, we can have a little fun. If you want, you can come up to get your dick sucked and then head home. It doesn't have to be a big thing."
"You seem very adamant about this," Matt noted.
"Well, I do aim to please," Frank quipped. "I'm talking about you and her. I think my girl would have a lot of fun with you."
"What makes you say that?"
"You're pretty easy on the eyes, you know. Also, she seems to have a thing for jaded middle-aged vigilantes. So, what do you say? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Murdock."
Matt sighed, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. For the life of him, he couldn't seem to remember any of his reasons for saying no.
"Alright," he decided.
Frank's face broke into a wolfish grin, and he began ascending the staircase towards the window at the very top of the building. Matt followed close behind him, wincing at the pain in his sides as he climbed. When the two men got to the top, Frank knocked four times at the glass.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
You had just finished changing into one of Frank's old t-shirts when you heard the familiar rattling of the window pane. You dried your hands on the bathroom towel and smiled as you went to let your boyfriend back inside.
Using that word was strange to you, but still it made you giddy with excitement. You never thought you would meet someone wonderful enough to settle down with, but finally you had. Frank was the most perfect man you'd ever known. He understood you in ways no one else could, and with him, you were satisfied. That was a miracle in and of itself.
You slid open the creaky window with a hard push, and watched as Frank hopped through it with a gracefulness that contrasted sharply with his bulky exterior. He seemed completely unharmed, as per usual, but you had still been worried about him. There was always that small chance he would come home covered in his own blood and full of broken bones. You were about to tear into him for not leaving a note when you noticed the red figure slipping in behind him.
"Hey, sweetheart, you remember me telling you about Matt, don't you?" Frank asked, cradling your face in his hands and giving you a sweet hello kiss.
"Is this him?" you responded, giving the new arrival a once-over.
"Yeah, this is him. Hey, Red, why don't you introduce yourself."
Matt stepped up to you and offered his hand for you to shake.
"Hi, I'm Matt. Frank's already told me all about you," he said cheerfully, almost like he knew something you didn't.
Frank stepped up behind you, resting his hand on your lower back and leaning in to tell you something.
"If you're up for it, I'm gonna need you to do me a favor, alright?" he mumbled. You could tell Matt heard everything. You remembered what Frank had told you about him and his unique talents.
You turned towards Frank, sliding your hands under his jacket and leaning in close.
"By that, do you mean you're gonna need me to do him a favor?" you wondered. Frank tucked your hair behind your ear and twirled it idly around his fingers.
"He's pretty high strung right now. I figured he might need a little somethin' special to relax."
"I'm perfectly capable of getting laid on my own, Frank," Matt butted in. Frank ignored him.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"
You laughed. "Yes, about twelve times this morning. You don't need to flatter me, I'll do it."
"You're amazing," Frank marveled, giving you another chaste kiss before turning to address Matt.
"How about you start by taking that stupid helmet off. Let my baby see what she's working with."
A small thrill ran through you when you heard Frank address you as his. You watched as Matt pulled his mask off, revealing the rest of his face. He looked a little nervous but you couldn't see why. He was absolutely gorgeous. His messy hair from the suit only added to the effects of his boyish charm. You noticed he did look rather tired, but that did nothing to dull his handsome features. You could tell you were gonna have a lot of fun with this one.
"He's even prettier than you," you joked.
Frank swatted you lightly on the ass and pushed you in Matt's direction. "Watch it," he growled playfully.
You stalked over to Matt and kissed him lightly on the cheek before pulling him over to the couch.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" you asked gently.
Matt swallowed thickly, trying to adjust to his situation. "Yeah, I'm okay," he responded. You hoped he'd settle in soon. There was something about him that told you he could be a lot of fun when he warmed up. Then again, that was what you were there for.
"What do you want?"
"I'm not exactly sure. Really, I can just go if-"
"No!" you interrupted. "I don't want you to go, I want to make you feel better. I'm okay with whatever you want, promise."
Matt seemed to be struggling to come up with what to say. Honestly, you were feeling a little nervous too, even though there was no reason to be. Suddenly, you realized what the issue was.
"Hey, Frank?" you called out. He came over to the two of you holding a couple of beers in one hand. He passed one to Matt, who accepted it gratefully.
You waited until he was next to you before admitting your problem to him. "I think we feel a little weird because we don't have any rules. Could you maybe. . . tell us what to do?" you asked.
Frank nodded, sitting down in the ratty old armchair next to the couch.
"Why don't you ask me what you wanna do with him, and I'll give you the go-ahead. Sound good, baby?"
You looked over at Matt who seemed to have relaxed some. You definitely found the source of the problem. All you needed was permission.
"Can I kiss him?" you asked.
Frank's eyes were sparkling with his newfound control. "You can kiss him all you want, sugar."
You slid closer to Matt, turning his head towards yours. "Stop me if you get uncomfortable," you whispered, and then leaned in to press your lips to his. Matt groaned and immediately deepened the kiss, eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. It was obvious now how much he needed this.
He tasted good in a way you couldn't explain, and you didn't want to pull away until you'd figured out what it was. You could feel the throbbing in your core picking up with every passing moment. Your breath caught when you felt Matt reach up to run his fingers through your hair. Wanting to move things along, you climbed into his lap so you could be pressed against him, chest-to-chest.
"Pull her hair. She likes that," Frank suggested.
Matt complied, tugging gently, then harder when he felt you shiver against him. Leave it to Frank to know exactly what you want and when you want it. You pulled back from the kiss to look at your moderator, rolling your hips hesitantly to gauge his reaction. He nodded, and you watched him palm himself roughly through his pants. That was all the encouragement you needed.
Returning to the kiss, you began grinding down hard against him, hoping that he could feel your movements through his thick suit. Matt reacted in a way that showed you he certainly could, gasping and grabbing onto your hips to push up against you. You moaned when one particularly hard thrust allowed you to feel the outline of his cock through your clothes.
"Oh, what the fuck," you breathed, pulling away from the kiss in shock. There was no way in hell he was that big. You settled your weight fully on his lap, gently rocking back in forth to feel more of him. You had to make sure that you weren't just imagining things. You weren't. He was absolutely fucking huge. You weren't sure how he was supposed to fit inside you, but dammit if you weren't excited to find out.
Matt seemed amused by your reaction to your recent discovery. He could smell the sudden increase in your arousal that accompanied the feeling of you getting wetter. You felt his hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he grinded up against you. Every thrust was deep and dirty, inciting the growing heartbeat between your legs. It felt like he was showing off, or using his knowledge of a secret you had to tease you.
"Feel something you like, baby?" Frank asked from the sidelines.
"Uh-huh," You responded inattentively. You were too focused on the feeling of Matt's bulge rubbing against you to say much more than that.
"Why don't you head on down to the bedroom, alright sweetheart? We'll meet you there in a minute," Frank urged.
Reluctantly, Matt released you and you wandered down the hall to wait for the two men to come join you.
Frank waited for you to be out of earshot before moving to the couch next to Matt. They sat for a second, sipping at their drinks before Frank spoke.
"I know you have a fuck ton of ideas about how you should treat a woman, but I'm gonna need you to forget that shit before I take you back there, okay? I'm doing this for you, but if you don't make this good for her, I will kick you out, got it? She's not interested in your kindness tonight. She wants you to treat her like an object. Like a dumb whore you're just using to get off. I know you've got a dark side in there somewhere, Red. I need you to tell me right now if you think you can use it."
Matt never expected that to be something that would intrigue him. It had always seemed so cruel and taboo. . . but if it was what you wanted. . .
"I can."
"Good." Frank stood up and began walking towards the bedroom. After a few steps, he remembered something and turned back around. "Also, what the hell, man? I'm not letting you fuck her without stretching her out first. I know I said you could hurt her, but I don't want you to make her bleed."
When they made it to the bedroom, they found you laying back against the pillows, gently teasing your clit through your panties. When they came through the doorway, you pulled your hand away, looking up at Frank shyly. He raised an eyebrow at you, scoffing at your innocent expression.
"You couldn't wait two minutes?" He sighed. "I'm not gonna embarrass you in front of our guest, baby, but next time you might not be so lucky."
"I'm sorry," you whined.
"No you're not." Frank came around the bed to sit next to you and directed Matt to sit down on your other side. "I think it's about time to take this off, what do you think?" Frank asked, tugging on the hem of your (his) shirt. You nodded, and he pulled it over your head, leaving you completely naked save for your soft cotton panties.
"What do you want right now, baby? His mouth or his fingers?" Frank offered, turning your head towards him. You were a little confused that those were your only options. Weren't you supposed to be making Matt feel good? Confusion aside, you still couldn't choose. They both sounded very appealing.
"Damn, Red. You must've done a good job back there. She's already having trouble thinking," he teased, flicking you gently on the forehead. "Why don't you use both?" he suggested.
Matt smiled, beginning to understand how Frank expected him to treat you. "If she's all fuzzy from a little kiss, are you sure she'd be able to handle both?"
"I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?"
You weren't sure what it was, but when Frank talked about you like you weren't there, a combination of arousal and safety washed over you. It always seemed to put you in a different headspace.
Matt climbed on top of you, finding your lips again as he slid your underwear down past your knees for you to kick off. He pulled your legs apart and began tracing your folds gently with his fingertips. Every touch was a completely new sensation. Matt was experimenting, figuring out where you were most sensitive, which motions you preferred and how hard he had to rub your clit to make you whimper.
He circled his fingers around your entrance, dipping into you just enough to feel you pulse and tighten around him, trying to pull him deeper. Right before you started begging, he pushed two of his fingers all the way in, curling them to explore your soft walls. It didn't take long for you to gasp and melt into the pillows as he brushed against your sweet spot. You hid your face in his neck, whining as he assaulted it over and over while bringing his thumb up to massage your clit.
Frank shushed you gently from his spot on the bed, reaching over to stroke your hair as you shook from the intense stimulation. You felt yourself dripping down Matt's fingers, and you could hear the wet sounds you were making as he fucked them in and out of your tight heat.
He pulled you right up to the edge before you heard Frank tell him to stop.
"Not yet," he muttered. "She'll get worn out after the third one, so you should probably make 'em count."
You huffed as Matt pulled his fingers out, earning you a proud and dangerous smirk. He gave you another sweet kiss as an apology.
"Sorry, angel. I don't make the rules," he reminded you.
Any disappointment you felt was soon replaced by the image of Matt sliding down the bed to get between your legs and pull them over his shoulders. Almost as an afterthought, he brought his hand up to his mouth to taste the palm you had drenched. As soon as his tongue touched his skin, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. His eyes darkened to look almost predatory, and he tightened his grip on your thighs. He glanced in Frank's direction, silently begging for his permission to proceed.
You didn't see Frank's approval, but you knew exactly when Matt got it because he dove into your cunt like it was a fucking desert oasis. In a lot of ways, it was. He wasted no time with teasing, instead shoving his tongue inside of you as deep as he could get it. Your vision went blurry as your eyes rolled back in your head. Grasping desperately at his hair, you pulled him harder against you until you were worried you would hurt him, but he barely seemed to notice.
He drew his tongue out to give your soaked pussy a few hungry licks, drinking up everything that dripped out of you. The wet noises he created with every suck or swipe of his tongue were enough to have your face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.
Feeling ignored, Frank grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a fervent kiss. He dislodged one of your hands from Matt's hair, guiding it over to rub at his clothed erection. You squeezed him through his pants, humming happily when you felt him twitch and grind up into your palm. Deftly, you undid his button and zipper, tugging his pants down just enough to slip your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. You didn't do anything else until he said it was okay.
"You want it, baby?" he murmured against your lips. You nodded, pushing your hand farther in, but you just barely managed to brush against it before he grabbed your wrist. He broke the kiss to look you in the eye, moving his hand from your jaw to gently hold your neck.
"You gotta use your words, sweetheart. You know that," he crooned.
"Please, can I touch it?" you sighed, moaning when Matt started stroking your clit again. Frank used his grip on your wrist to pull your hand deeper in until you could firmly grab his aching cock. You began tugging it slowly as it pulsed and hardened further in your grasp. You swiped the pad of your thumb over his slit and felt him drip onto your fingers, easing the glide of your palm.
You felt yourself getting close again when Matt stuffed his fingers back inside you and sucked hard at your clit. This time, no one stopped you from falling over the edge. You sobbed as your release rushed through you, tightening your thighs around Matt's head and your hand around Frank's cock. Matt groaned against you, savoring the scent and the taste of your satisfaction. Frank hissed at the added pressure, thrusting up into your fist which was slick with his precum.
The two men reluctantly pulled away from you as you came down from your high, giving you time to catch your breath. They returned to their positions on either side of you, stroking your hair or your shoulders as you refocused on reality.
"You were right," Matt announced, breathing almost as heavily as you were.
Frank smirked, looking over you to assess Matt's disheveled state. "Yeah? 'Bout what, exactly?" he asked.
"Everything," He admitted dreamily. To anyone who didn't know the effect you had on fortunate men, he might seem drunk or high. You supposed he kinda was.
"You were talking about me?" you whispered, hiding your face in Frank's neck. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.
"I was just braggin' about how good you are, baby," he promised.
Matt laughed quietly at Frank's statement like it was an inside joke no one else would understand.
"He said a lot more than that," Matt disclosed to you. "He said you were the biggest slut he'd ever met. Honestly, he would not shut up about how tight you were, or how good you tasted. I thought he was exaggerating, but I think you just proved me wrong."
You smiled into Frank's shoulder, enjoying the attention. He tapped you lightly on the hip to get you to focus on him.
"I believe you were just given a compliment," he signaled.
Taking the hint, you rolled over to face Matt, angling his face towards you to give him a soft kiss as a thank you.
You looked down to where he was straining against the fabric of his suit. A small wet spot was becoming more visible at the tip of his swollen bulge. You caught yourself before you stared for too long, worried you might start salivating if you let your mind wander far enough.
"That looks uncomfortable," you pointed out. "You should probably take it off before it starts hurting you."
Matt agreed, standing up beside the bed to start stripping off his clothes. If he were dressed normally, you would offer to help, but you didn't even know where to begin with that thing.
"I'm sure she wants to return the favor," Frank advised Matt. "I'll go ahead get her stretched out while you use her mouth, alright?"
When Matt was in just his boxers, you tugged him back down to take your spot in the middle and climbed on top of him. Frank had stood up to finish taking off his own clothes, and when he was done, he kneeled behind you on the bed to get you in the right position.
You found yourself face-to-face with Matt's thinly veiled hard-on and your ass up high for Frank to take you from behind. He slid three of his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out a few times to see how relaxed you already were. As soon as you had freed Matt from his final barricade, Frank pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock inside you in one smooth thrust. You moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, wincing at the stretch but enjoying it nonetheless. Frank gave you a moment to gather your bearings before he began to move.
"Focus on him, baby. He's the one you're supposed to be paying attention to," Frank directed. That was easier said than done when you were being relentlessly fucked from behind, but you had been wanting to get your mouth on him for a while now, and you weren't gonna pass up the opportunity.
Now that you were seeing him in person, Matt's size was almost intimidating. You were glad Frank took it upon himself to stretch you out first, because you were sure you'd be feeling it in your stomach when it was time to switch. His head looked tight and angry, and you watched as a small bead of clear fluid welled out of the tip and ran down the side. You leaned in to catch it with your tongue, whining softly at the taste.
"There you go, sweetheart," Frank praised.
You licked a long stripe up the underside, stopping when you got to the top to suckle gently at the head. You wrapped your hand around the base to stroke him firmly as you focused on taking the first few inches comfortably. It was already stretching your mouth quite a bit and your jaw was aching from trying to force yourself down on it. Before long, your spit was dripping onto your fingers and sliding down to settle at the base, creating slick sounds as you tugged at his length.
You moaned around him when Frank gave a particularly pointed thrust, nailing your spot dead-on. Provoked by your reaction, he repeated the same motion until your eyes rolled back in your head and you could no longer focus on the task at hand.
"Come on, pretty girl. You can take more than that," Frank fussed. "If you want his help, you can ask for it. Don't be shy, baby."
You were reluctant to ask because you wanted to prove yourself to Matt, but you didn't think you would be able to take more on your own. Usually, you were pretty good relaxing your throat, but there was no way you could swallow even half of him without choking. If you wanted to make him feel good, you would need him to take over and force you to blow as much of him as he wanted.
You pulled off of his cock teasingly, hollowing out your cheeks on the way up and swirling your tongue around the tip. You gave it one more little kiss before resuming your strokes, looking up at him to see which motions garnered the best reactions.
"Please," you whined, using your other hand to guide his to your hair.
"Please what, sweet girl?" Matt asked, petting you gently where you placed his hand. You swallowed your pride, giving in completely to both of them. You no longer had anything to prove. You were ready to be used however they saw fit, not caring about anything except making them feel good.
"Please, fuck my mouth."
"Aww, is it too big for you?" Matt consoled, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Do you need my help, angel? You're already being fucked on one end, is that not enough?" he mocked, tightening his grip on your hair.
He knocked your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own so he could rub it across your lips. You opened your mouth for him, and he slowly pulled your head down, forcing you to take him in until you choked. He held you there for a moment, groaning and thrusting up into the wet heat of your mouth before letting you take a breath. He continued like that for a while, guiding your head up and down, forcing you to go deeper each time until you couldn't take anymore.
Behind you, Frank wedged a finger in beside his cock, grunting at the added friction. You gasped at the new stretch, your release slamming into you unexpectedly. You arched your back and pushed into the feeling as he deftly attacked your sweet spot. Frank grinned at your reaction, smacking your ass once to watch you jump and hear your muffled yelp.
"I'm just tryin' to get you loosened up. I didn't mean for you to like it that much, you slut," he teased affectionately. He slipped in another finger, curling them to tug gently at your entrance until he felt that you were ready.
He took his fingers away, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he slid his cock out too, leaving you completely empty. He left a sweet kiss at the base of your spine, letting you know you had done a good job, and moved around you to talk to Matt.
"She's ready for you, if you're interested," Frank informed cockily. He watched how Matt was thoroughly fucking your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with every thrust, pulling you down to meet him half-way. You were doing much better than Frank had expected you to. It looked like your mind was somewhere far away, and you were just letting Matt use your mouth as a cocksleeve.
He started slowing down his movements, letting you up further and further, until you were back to just sucking at his head while he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. Finally, he pulled you off of him with a soft, wet pop, edging out from under you so he could switch places with Frank. You whined at your sudden emptiness, burying your face in Frank's stomach as he took Matt's vacant spot.
"Is she always this desperate?" Matt asked, replacing Frank behind you. Frank laughed, caressing your head softly as you began mouthing and licking at his abs.
"Pretty much. Actually, she's doing better than she usually is. I think she's just upset that she didn't get you to finish."
"Really? She likes that part?"
"Oh, she loves it. Some days, she even asks me to pull out so I can come in her mouth. Ain't that right, baby?"
You nodded into his hip, sucking a dark bruise into his v-line.
"Why don't you go ahead and finish me off," Frank suggested to you. "I'm sure it'll make you feel better."
He grabbed himself around the base, enticingly pressing the wet head against the seam of your lips. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth and swallowed him all the way down. You moaned lowly, purring at the feeling of being able to take him comfortably down your throat. He wasn't small by any means, but he was more familiar and significantly less jaw-breaking that Matt.
"Fuck, baby," Frank groaned, tugging at your hair. You were content just to stay like that for a while, holding his heavy length on your tongue and feeling him subtly grind his tip against the back of your throat. With your head still, you could feel every little twitch and taste yourself in every drop that leaked down your throat.
"You wanna move at all?" Frank asked, his muscles tight with restraint. In response, you nuzzled your nose against his skin, swallowing around him in the hopes that he'd let you stay there.
"No? You just like having your sweet little holes filled, huh? That's fine, sugar. You don't have to move an inch, but I'm gonna need more than that if you wanna make me come. Do you wanna make me come, baby?"
You hummed your assent, the vibrations sending a shiver up Frank's spine.
"Then suck," he commanded, and you obeyed. You used as much suction as you could manage, creating a satisfying friction without all the typical motions. You teased the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue, listening to his quiet grunts as you drew him closer to the edge.
Behind you, Matt was listening to the sound of your wet cunt dripping onto the bedsheets. He kneaded your ass and thighs in his hands, ensuring that you were fully relaxed before trying to fuck you. Soon, he was nestling his cock between your soaked folds, lining himself up with your tight entrance.
He rubbed the small of your back as he began pushing himself in. He was met with an alarming amount of resistance, and he didn't even get the first inch in before you were clenching down around him and letting out a pained whimper. He pulled back, afraid he would tear something if he carried on.
"Frank, it's not gonna fit," Matt told him. Frank huffed, too busy chasing his own pleasure to think about problem-solving.
"It'll fit, just keep going," he reassured. "She likes the stretch. Hurry up and fuck her already."
"If I tried, I would break her," Matt warned. "Why don't we test out a different position?"
"Fine. Hang on for just a second."
Frank tightened his grip on your hair, whispering a quick apology before pulling you halfway off of him. He gave you no warning before he was slamming back in, forcing a surprised squeak out of your chest as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth. Barely a minute passed before Frank's thrusts grew sloppy and more desperate. His cock pulsed wildly against your tongue, and he let out a guttural groan as he came hard down your throat. You eagerly swallowed every drop that spilled out of him, waiting for him to soften a bit before releasing him from your mouth. Laving sweetly at the sides, you cleaned him up as best you could before he pushed your head away from oversensitivity.
"Alright," Frank mumbled, scooting over so you could take his spot in the middle. "On your back, baby."
You flipped over to face Matt, opening your legs so he could settle in between them.
"Pretty slut," he commended, leaning in to kiss you as he lined up with your needy hole once more. "We're gonna make it fit, alright? Don't you worry your cute little head about it."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he began pushing his hips towards yours, his thick cockhead stretching you out obscenely. You winced at the pain, trying to force yourself to relax, but it wasn't working. Matt grunted at the vice grip you had on him, but he didn't advance further until he felt you could handle more.
From beside you, Frank played with your hair and kissed your neck in all your favorite spots until he had taken your mind off the pain. When Matt felt you unclench, he gave you another inch, once again stopping to allow you time to adjust. He continued on like that for a while, feeding his cock into your pussy in small increments until he was completely buried inside you.
As soon as the pain subsided, feeling something that deep was absolutely incredible. You felt yourself get wetter when you realized you could just barely make out the outline of his length poking through your tummy. It was evident to both of you from the very start that this wasn't gonna last long.
"Holy shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Matt groaned, starting a series of very shallow thrusts to get you used to the feeling. "This is what you were made for, sweetheart. You feel so fuckin' good," he praised. Slowly, he began picking up speed, fucking you harder and deeper like he couldn't control it anymore. You felt so full, you figured it was a miracle that he was even able to get half-way in. You couldn't stop the noises that Matt punched out of you with every heightened thrust. Because of his immense size, there was never a moment when he wasn't rubbing directly against your most sensitive areas.
Matt could sense that you were getting close, and he knew he wouldn't be far behind you. He started snapping his hips into yours impossibly harder, spurred on by the prospect of your impending release.
"You gonna come on my cock, angel? It's okay, you can come," Matt encouraged. He heard you cry out and smelled the sudden spike in your arousal. He knew he had you right on the edge. "Come for me sweetheart," he breathed.
You almost screamed as you came, your body arching up off the bed, every muscle tightening and trembling as your pleasure coursed through them. Matt cursed at the feeling of your walls clenching and fluttering around him. He let out a subdued moan as he fucked into you three more times before coming deep inside you. You felt the comforting warmth dripping down your thighs when he slipped out and collapsed on the bed beside you.
When you came down from your high, the night's exertion finally caught up with you. You cuddled into Frank's chest, and he pulled you closer, murmuring to you about how good you were for them. Matt slotted his body into place behind yours, leaving kisses on the back of your neck and stroking your side gently.
"Thank you," he whispered, and before you could respond, he was already asleep. You were about to follow suit, but a thought popped into your head, keeping you awake.
"Is this gonna be a one-time-thing?" you asked Frank, opening your eyes to see his face. He didn't seem surprised by your question. Honestly, he seemed like he'd been expecting it.
"It doesn't have to be," he responded. "If he's ever up for it again, I'd be fine with it."
You nodded, closing your eyes again and starting to drift off to sleep. You passed out in less than a minute, but not before you heard Frank say something that, in the morning, you thought must have been a dream. Nevertheless, it was nice to pretend it was real.
"I love you, baby."
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
984 notes · View notes
transmascaraa · 25 days
Note
Hi, Hi, Hi! How are you?
I am the one, who requested the FREEZING hands and I loved it. Thanks for the food. I really, really loved it! And I have another request! Their s/o just randomly telling them what their first impression of them was, when they first saw them. They always heard of like their intimidating/cold behaviour or looks, but when their s/o first saw them they didn’t think that. They thought like “Such a cutie patootie! Awww! Look at how adorable he is! I just wanna squish those cheeks!”
Could I request Cyno, Alhaitham, Wriothesley & Diluc with that? (And could I be an anon? 🪶 anon please? Pretty please?)
STAY HYDRATED, EAT ENOUGH AND HAVE A PROPER SLEEP SCHEDULE!
multiple characters headcannons!
"cutie patootie!"
characters: cyno, alhaitham, wriothesley, diluc x gn!reader
author's note: OFC I ALREADY ADDED YOU TO THE ANONS ON MY INTRODUCTION POST^^ i love this and this is probably how i would act if i was actually in genshin aka teyvat idk anyways enjoy reading this!!
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๑ Cyno
-you when you just told him this he still had a neutral look on his face.
-"and they all told me you were so so SO scary! but when i first saw you- I WANTED TO BITE YOUR CHEEKS AFFECTIONATELY!!!"
-he looked a little confused.
-"bite my cheeks?-"
-"THEY'RE SO SQUISHY!!"
-you got closer to him and cupped his face in your hands, basically squishing his cheeks, and then giving him a kiss on the nose.
-"y'know, i still feel the same about you. i don't know what the hell others are going on about."
-he's never received much affection in his life before so he's kinda confused about it, despite his cheeks getting redder and warmer by second, ever if he didn't realize it.
-"uh- thanks?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✧ Alhaitham
-you start ranting to him but the first few minutes he isn't even listening to you and is instead reading some book even tho he said he's literally listening.
-"'haitham! are you even listening?"
-"huh? uhm- sorry- can you repeat what you were saying?"
-you're a bit annoyed but do it anyway, and this time ge actually listens.
-"yeah? what about us when we first met?"
-he's impatient for you to finish but also curious about what you're about to say.
-now he's a bit surprised.
-"I JUST WANTED TO SQUISH YOUR CHEEKS AAH!!!!!-"
-he's SLIGHTLY blushing and has a MICROSCOPIC smile on his face but yeah.
-he's happy to know it but also- how the fuck did you think that he was a "cutie patootie" as you said?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✿ Wriothesley
-bro would be flabbergasted but smirking at you teasingly the whole damn time
-"AND I THOUGHT YOU WERE SO FUCKING CUTE!"
-"mhm..."
-"oh~?"
-"yeah..~
-you would be blushing halfway but he'll let you continue lmao
-then he'd start talking about how he felt when you first met too and it would honestly be really cute imo
-but like okay dude why you looking at me like you'll ask me to kiss youu
-he probably will tho tbh
-not much left to say but he'll really enjoy listening to you and all cuz bffr you're 753 times more special to him cuz you didn't find him intimidating like literally everyone told you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✯ Diluc
-he'll deny it the whole time that he finds you so adorable ranting to him about it
-but then again he appreciates it
-even tho he wishes you actually found him scary or intimidating
-"AND LIKE- YOU LOOKED SO CUTE THAT I WANTED TO JUST GRAB YOU BY YOUR HANDS AND JUST KISS YOU WHOLE FACE ALL OVER AND-"
-"i don't understand you... how the fuck do i look- what was the word... skrunkly-?"
-you laughed your ass off at that but like okay
-he looked even more confused lol
-but no matter how little he understands you, he'll always be sure to actually pay attention to you cuz he doesn't want you to feel forgotten or worth any less than you are
-he'll do his best to not come off as too rude or mean but he genuinely thinks your thoughts sometimes are weird af
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
loved this one definitely
i didn't know what other word to use except for skrunkly but alr
HOPE YOU LIKED IT‼️
| 🪶anon | @mariaace <3
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ivymarquis · 4 months
Note
Hi loves 💕💕 I saw requests are open so I figured I'd send one in! I absolutely love your work you're so talented and I binge read all of your fics!!
I would like to request fem reader x soap where Soaps wife adopted a dog she found on the streets and keeps her even though he hates the idea.( he has a cannon fear of dogs which I find a little funny) slowly but surely he warms up to the dog but not fully. While he's out on a mission there's a robbery and the dog protects the reader and scares off the intruder. Soap hears about this and is instantly is best friends with the dog because even though he hates dogs he loves that the pup will protect his wife (I also hc that mabey it's not a street dog but a retired k9 reader adopted to feel safe while he was gone and she just didn't tell him until he comes home and sees a dog. it's up to you what you pick💓)
Hello anon I appreciate your patience!! I did pick and choose a wee bit to make the fic make sense for me, I hope you like it!
The Exception to the Rule
Pairing| Soap x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 1.9K Content/Warnings| Housekeeping first- this fic is SFW so if you find it in the tags I won’t be bothered about minors reading it but I am an MDNI blog and I will block any minors or ageless blogs who follow me. Got it? Cool. The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent, likely inaccuracies about how military dogs in general or bomb dogs in specific work. Allusions to prior animal injury, allusion to potential dog choking (in the context of choking off a working dog who won’t release its quarry), allusion to home invasion, dog bites, Johnny is not happy, the author does not condone getting animals you know your partner has issues with (but the plot necessitates it so on we go!)
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Soap knows his wife well enough to know when she’s taken a “ask for forgiveness rather than permission” course of action. It’s written all over her face when she accepts his FaceTime call and answers his greeting of “What did ya dae, hen?“ with a “Please don’t be mad.”
Now certain men might have to worry about their brides stepping out on them on deployment. Soap knows her well enough to not even entertain that notion, so the wheels start turning for what exactly she could have done that has her looking this guilty out the gate.
The answer comes very suddenly in the form of a bark on the other end of the screen.
John Soap MacTavish sputters, something he is not often inclined to do, “Is that a fuckin’ dog?” And not just a dog. That wasn’t a little yappy fluffball who can be picked up with two fingers if need be. It sounds like one of the damn bomb dogs always yapping over in the kennels.
“Please don’t be mad!” She pleads again.
“Well a’m not happy, that’s for sure. Where and why did ye git that thing?”
This is completely out of character for her. Soap’s disdain for dogs (and why) is well known. She bloody well knows. So what the hell?
“It’s not permanent! You said this deployment would be a long one, and there’s been break ins in the neighborhood and I got nervous and my friend told me about this rescue group that helps rehome retired military dogs.” Her explanation is all in one breath. “They approved us” (Us??) ”as a foster family. He’s already got applications in for a permanent home. It just feels,” she pauses to catch her breath, and Soap can feel himself softening ever so minisculely to the dog- as long as he’s on the other side of the world, away from it, “safer here, with him here since you’re gone. The break ins have been really scary, they haven’t caught the guy yet.”
Fucking hell how is he supposed to argue with that? Especially if there’s some prick on the loose breaking into houses.
“Cujo better nae be oan th’ bed wi’ ye,” he grouses, acquiescing while still making his displeasure known.
“His name is Kabar and I’ll have the bed freshly stripped when you’re due back I promise.”
Soap is a god damn sucker for those pleading doe eyes, giving a big exasperated sigh to signal he’s letting her off the hook. “Fine. Bit he better be gaen by th’ time I pull intae th’ driveway. Let’s see th’ damn thing then,” Christ he hopes it’s not a Belgian Malinois. He knows they’re popular for military dogs but his darling is not built to handle a maligator, retired or not.
“Okay hang on,” she replies, notably cheerier as she taps the screen.
It’s a German Shepherd, thank fuck (Johnny must be having a stroke to be grateful for the sight of a German Shepherd in his bed)
He knows as well as anyone else they can be intense, but they’re a step down from the Malinois at least.
The coloring is traditional, but Soap’s brain starts nudging him that something is wrong with the dog. It takes a moment to click before he realizes the problem.
The damn dog only has three legs. “Is he a tripod?” The question is out before he can stop himself because no he is not inquiring about the damn dog. It was just a thought that escaped.
“He is a disabled veteran!” His bride corrects cheekily, before much more solemnly adding “He was a bomb dog.”
Oh Christ. He did not need to know that. Doesn’t need to think about the damn animal waking up one day with four legs and clocking in to work with his handler before boom.
“A’m only entertaining this because of the break ins, hen, am ah clear?”
Maybe having that booming bark rattling the windows will keep any would-be intruders at bay. This is the worst part of the job- being stuck on what might as well be the other side of the world when she’s got something to deal with.
“Absolutely crystal clear!” She’s all too agreeable, pleased as hell to have her cake (the dog) and eat it too (Johnny tolerating it).
Somehow this is going to blow up in his face and he’s going to permanently end up with a fucking military dog he doesn’t want, he just knows it.
But there’s no fucking way he can tell her No. Absolutely not. He goes back today, with a potential threat lurking around the neighborhood. He’d never forgive himself.
The rest of the conversation is much more in line with what he usually anticipates with their phone calls being- He doesn’t much like talking about work off the clock although lets her know of any interesting shenanigans around the base, and listening with baited breath as she regails him of tales both extraordinary and, well, extra ordinary.
Usually their phone calls end when she passes out in bed, and they’re perfectly poised to continue that habit tonight also.
“Ye made sure all th’ doors and windows are locked, hen?” He asks as she starts snuggling into the bedding underneath her.
“Yeah Johnny, I,” she cuts herself off with a big yawn “-I double checked them.”
It’s a few minutes later that the phone slips from her hand, camera pointing at the ceiling as she drifts off.
Johnny can almost imagine he’s at home laying on his back, watching the rhythmic movements of the ceiling fan in time with his lovely girl snoring slightly in his ear (despite her verbose protests that no she doesn’t snore- okay. Whatever you say, gorgeous.)
It’s an incredibly comforting moment that lets him feel a bit closer to home that is ruined by the sound of snuffling by the speaker.
The dog’s nose appears on screen, the angle making him look like an aardvark as he sniffs the phone before laying down, presumably relishing in the fact there’s not a damn thing Soap can do about this situation.
“Ye better keep an eye oan my girl, Cujo.” Soap grumbles as he begrudgingly hangs up the phone.
The mission ends quicker than expected- substantially quicker- and as content as Soap is with getting home he also is annoyed.
The mission got cut so short, and it’s so damn late by the time Soap is driving home that he knows the fucking dog is still there. The agreed upon date has not yet passed, which means that fuck is lazing about on his side of the bed.
Not to mention the mere obstacle of convincing a former military dog he’s never met, in the middle of the night, that yes this is his fucking house and he’s the one paying the bills around here and yes that actually is his spot on the bed so kindly fuck off.
At a point during his drive home, a police car flies by him. Then another. Then another.
Must be the fucker that’s been breaking into homes. Hopefully he gets caught and that’s one less thing to worry about when Johnny leaves again.
Except the red and blue lights seem to be fucking honed in from the spot that he’s steadily driving to, and Johnny’s convinving himself that he’s seeing things. There is no way that those lights and sirens are stemming from his house, thank you very much.
Even still, he feels himself driving faster. The sooner to quiet his anxiety that’s brewing.
The anxiety doesn’t dissipate as he makes each turn to his home. If anything it gets worse.
Because all that noise and the flashing lights are stemming from his own fucking home. Johnny can barely get the thing in park before he’s flying out of the vehicle. He can hear screams and specifically her crying and in an instant Johnny’s beyond being keyed up.
One of the officers attempts to intercept Johnny- thinks he’s just some nosy fuck from who knows where- and it takes everything in him not to blow his top entirely as he cuts the man off with a stern “This is mah house ‘n she’s mah wife!”
The sound of his voice booming into the night is enough to catch her attention and bring her running to him. Johnny embraces her as she flings herself at him, crying into his shirt as he strokes her back and soothes her.
He can piece together the general what happened, although he’s completely unaware of the details.
One piece begins to fit into place as he starts to hear what all the screaming is. His initial attention completely fixated on ensuring his wife is whole and hale, now he can check that off the mental list he now has the bandwidth to listen to the bellowing.
“Git it aff me! Och Jesus, someone git it aff o' me!”
“Cannae git th’ damn thing tae release him,” Johnny hears one of the officers comment dryly.
“Can always choke him off if the owners can’t git him tae let go,” the other one supplies.
“Eh, ah guess,” the first one responds in a bored tone that makes it clear he has a this guy fucked around and now he’s finding out, and I don’t see a reason to hurry- the dog looks happy anyway, stance to the situation.
On the side of the house, face down in the grass is the man who presumably broke inside.
He is so incredibly lucky there are witnesses and a sobbing wife to curtail the dark, angry thoughts swirling around in Johnny’s brain. Otherwise all it would take would be one phone call to Laswell and this prick disappears forever.
Attached to the calf of that man is Cujo, happily laying on the ground with his tail wagging slowly like his teeth aren’t sunk inside a man’s flesh. If the dog gets too annoyed with the man’s wiggling he shakes him like a chew toy, starting up a fresh round of someone git this fucking dog aff o’ me! until he lays still.
The mention of choking the dog off the would-be intruder doesn’t slip past his darling in the slightest, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.
Damn it all, he’s always a sucker for that look.
“Johnny, do you know how to make him let go? I don’t want him choked!”
He decides she’s probably better off not being told how often that ends up having to happen, and that Cujo will be just fine minus a few brain cells if push comes to shove.
But he has spent enough time (against his will, mind) around the dogs that he’s learned the basic commands over the years through repeated exposure.
“No promises, hen, bit we’ll see.” The dog has never met him a day in his life- there’s no guarantee he’s going to listen to a man that’s a stranger barking orders at him, but Johnny gives the sharp German command anyway.
To his surprise, the dog lets go immediately and turns towards them, giving the skipping lope that a 3 legged dog does before placing himself in a heel at Soap’s side, eyes wide and head tilted.
Johnny doesn’t want to think about what could have happened tonight if it wasn’t for Cujo- Kabar- taking such an involved roll in apprehending the man stupid enough to break into his home.
And he’s most assuredly not magically over his aversion to dogs- especially military dogs- but he might be able to tolerate an exception if it means having some peace of mind that his wife is safe at home.
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brights-place · 3 months
Text
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Jeff The Killer with an Mute! S/O
Pairings: Jeff the killer X Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of gore, Dating headcannons
A/N: Jeff the killer dating an mute reader that me and my friends were talking long and hard about how each creepypasta would date an S/O who is mute :>>
- When you were first introduced he tried to annoy you and get you to talk smack back to him caus he wanted to fight someone since Jane was on an mission and Jeff itched for an fight
- He’s suspicious of you at first when you don't reply - Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much... JK HE DOES MIND LIKE WHY AIN'T YOU FIGHTING OR YELLING AT HIM!
- He complains and cruses you out as you just stared at him - Jeff is annoyed how you hangout with Smile dog who makes sure to make you feel comfy which makes Jeff confused since well... Smile wasn't nice to people actually nobody really was I mean they were Creepypastas they were creatures and beings that could kill
- When he tried to fight Liu since well that's whats siblings do you smacked him up top the head as liu cackled at how Jeff was flabbergasted as you stared him down
- He gets annoyed by everybody and since your silent he comes out of nowhere and hangs out with you as he says "Shut up" when not knowing you were mute cause he never knew you were mute
- Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of annoyed yet staring down at him making sure he is comfortable - He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. - he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 
- Sooner or later he watches you do sign language talking to EJ, Toby, and Nina as you just nodded shook your head or just did sign language which he connected the dots quickly finding out that you were mute
- most of the time he is translating for those who can't understand you when you use sign language when Jeff can't is when he's on his missions and off to kill some people
- Other then that he would be by your side making sure your safe and are alright When he speaks he forgets that he's doing sign language while speaking whenever your near and people point it out he rolls his eyes
- He gets used to your silence and can't help but when he feels pissy just walks towards were you are in your room or in the kitchen kick open the door and grab you and lay his head on your shoulder
- He didn't understand sign language so he just focused on when you're looking at something or someone in a certain way, how your eyebrows furrow. how you squint your eyes, the way your lips curve up or downwards with something he likes and dislikes.
- He could read your thoughts and what you want to say but can't at all but try to explain in sign language to you and say's fuck it and just speaks to you as you nod your head listening. - He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation - When you two are out at night not doing missions you take an stroll before jeff then goes on an rampage out of boredom - You were making sure that jeff was careful when you noticed an couple watching them afar since you knew that they had an child but also knew that why you two killed the two parents cause they were Junkies and quiet emotionally abusive towards their own child so of course you had to kill the two so you brought Jeff!
- When he is on an mission his knife digging into the skin of an 30 year old couple while their daughter was fast asleep in her room not knowing about what was happening downstairs.
- You couldn't help but watch Jeff ripping the parents skin with his knife carving an smile as he turns towards you when you stomped your foot lightly two times on the floor is what you two used to say its time to go since he well he and you have your own secret language
reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact
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earthtooz · 1 year
Note
I NEED ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS, I BEG YOU 😭
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·˚ ༘ ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS !
# warnings: gn!reader, fluff and a little hurt/comfort, mentions to arguments, somewhat suggestive but no nsfw, swearing, idk how many words this is but quite a bit LOL, unedited
# a/n: LUCKY FOR BOTH OF US THAT I JUST SO HAPPENED TO WANT ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS TOO. ENJOY MY FRIEND.
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no one knows how you two got into a relationship and to be honest, you don't really know either. like how did you bag itoshi mf rin 😨 the most unlikeable bitch anyone will ever meet in their life... (lovingly)
bachira asked you if you were okay the first time you met and rin immediately lunged at him. like, please stop babe, you're just proving meguru's point !
how you met and all is a story for another time <3 because holy fucking shit is it a long one.
but the point is, although rin takes a while to open up, he is an amazing boyfriend, despite what everyone believes :,)
claims that he needs an independent partner bc he needs his space from time to time and you were completely understanding, even agreeing that some privacy here and there is nice.
except as it turns out, rin is the most co-dependent partner there is 💀 it's no longer 'i' bc it is now 'we'! slay!
he literally needs you to go to the grocery store with him and expects you hold his hand the entire time too- literally.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
"you know how to buy your own green tea, why do i need to come with you?" you ask when rin pops his head into your study room where you were reading your book. "please?"
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
you accompany him (almost) every time. if you're out he even waits for you to get home just so you can go with him like boy wtf...
well his love language is quality time saur.
expresses his love through gifts and acts of service as well. all of the gifts he buys for you are genuinely so well thought-out, like you almost tear up at all of them. one of them was a teddy bear that said 'you're better than mediocre.' and you almost cried 🗣🗣 okay but fr, he got you an anniversary gift of all his favourite moments with you, adding spotify bar codes to the pictures. there were photos from before u even dated like rin 😭😭😭😭 he is so babygirl pls take care of him.
on that note, i headcanon that rin has decent music taste. he listens to rock and alt, even anime soundtracks 🤣 but bc he's fluent in english, i bet he listens to arctic monkeys and the neighbourhood on REPEAT 🔁
wait yeah lover of music, it just makes sense for him to have a collection of headphones in his room. he likes to make you playlists too :( rinnie :( for me???
(rin also has a love language of offering you the first bite of food. you're sharing ice cream? here, have the first spoon. wanna try some of rin's lunch? he's already offering it. the smoothie he's having sounds good? he's already pushing it towards you.)
ALSO ☝️ BC THIS FUCKER LOVES HORROR, IT'S SOMETIMES TO A POINT THAT IT GETS YOU KINDA SCARED FOR YOUR LIFE... HOW IS HE SO IMMUNE TO ALL THE BLOOD... AND VIOLENCE...
he's SICK for this. you never let him pick the movies whenever you want to watch something.
also like it's a good enough reason to not get on his bad side. mans probably has 100 ways to k*ll shidou and get away with it.
anyways, rin would probably be hesitant to let you meet his family (read: sae). he's not ashamed of you, he's ashamed of sae.
so when his family demands to meet you, rin finally caves, agreeing to a dinner back home. only to find out he had nothing to worry about. his mother and father love you, saying how you were so beautiful the whole dinner, and how lucky rin was to have you. they even brought up the topic of marriage and you and rin kinda just sat there like 😐😁 smile and wave... smile and wave...
internally though, rin was over the moon knowing that you're accepted by his family. he loves his mum and dad, and although his relationship with sae is rocky with no smooth waves in sight, his opinion is... 'appreciated'.
best part was that his mother then turned to sae and went 'when are you going to get a partner as well?' and rin SENT HIM THE MOST SHIT-EATING GRIN EVER LMFAOOOOOOO
they got into a fight whilst cleaning the dishes that night.
rin then takes u home and pampers u, still high from the happiness that seeing u with his family brought 😇
WAIT ALSO - YOU TWO DEFINITELY SHOWED UP TO THE DINNER WITH MATCHING FITS >:o
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN'S WARDROBE LIKE DAMN SHAWTY... LET ME HIT... so he'll 100% shop for you too.
in fact, he's the best boyfie to take shopping, he'll be like 'no that's not your colour, but the fit is nice' or be like 'you might need a different size. this one isn't right' - you trust his judgment way more than your friends.
when you are out with your friends shopping, you'll send rin photos for his opinions and he never misses 💯 drops whatever he's doing to respond bc he's gotta make sure his pretty lover has the best wardrobe!!
rin loves paying for your shopping sprees too. no matter how much you try to wrestle him for who pays, he will always win. you make it even though by paying for your meals that day (the difference in how much money is spent on clothes and food will never compare, but it makes you feel a little less guilty so rin indulges you).
also attentive af. knows your tastes in almost everything, memorised your little habits and how you like certain things done. very dedicated bf once you realise just how much he loves doing things for you.
i just had this thought:
you know how couples post on tiktok all the time? well, you thought it would be nice if you could participate in one trend with rin.
you just thought it'd be a small post to share with your friends but instead, you seemed to forget to turn on the 'only friends can view option', it blew the FUCK up - like ofc it would, that's itoshi mf rin... but the comments were all like 'why are you with him', or 'dump him... you're too hot for him...', or 'you can do sooo much better than him'.
look, no matter how sensible rin is, he's not immune to drama and this bitch will not settle for when people tell him he doesn't deserve you like did YOU GO THROUGH TWO YEARS OF PINING??? I DON'T THINK SO. SIT THE FUCK DOWN.
so he's on your account, picks the comment 'i could treat you better than him', films himself giving the commenter the middle finger before you pull him in by the collar to give him a big ol kiss, cutting the video at the exact time that you both stumble out of frame.
look, it's not the most optimal way to fight back against the haters 🙄 but he doesn't need to prove nothing, not like anyone else gets you all to themselves.
oh this man has a banger social media presence, on his main AND on his private accounts.
he prefers posting on the priv bc there he can freely show u off and be more authentic.
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itoshirinpriv I love when Y/n wears the things I buy them
─ megurusundercover when will u buy me things rinnie </3
╰┈➤ itoshirinpriv Choke and die
╰┈➤ megurusundercover kinky ;)
─ isagi11 Hi @y/n !
╰┈➤ y/n HI YOICHI !!!!
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LOVES A SUPPORTIVE S/O, EVEN IF HE DOESN'T LET IT SHOW!!! WEAR HIS JERSEY AT A MATCH AND CHEER FOR HIM AND YOU HAVE HIS HEART !!! RECORD HIS MATCHES FOR HIM AND WATCH THEM WITH HIM AND HE'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!! he doesn't ask for much, just a little appreciation back :<
also don't try to compete against rin in anything unless you have guaranteed victory bc this mf is competitive AF.
will spare you on some occasions but more often than not, will give 100% into everything.
you use this to your advantage like 'hey babe, wanna see who can clean more of the house in one hour?' and HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY EVERY TIME. to be fair, so do you because like you want a clean house, but rin is SO speedy when there's a challenge involved.
easy defeat every time but you can't be mad.
hc that rin can't cook for shit. so you'll have to be there with him or just ban him from the kitchen straight up.
you taught him how to make microwave popcorn and that's about the only thing he is permitted to make.
even his diet-regulated smoothies are all made by you because holy fuck he somehow always messes up the recipe despite it being really clear and concise.
also you steer clear from him when he's working out because he just looks TOO GOOD working out that i makes you feel a little funny and pathetic 😇
if you are someone who does enjoy exercise, rin would love to take this chance to spend some more time together. you could be doing a pilates workout and rin is in the corner lifting weights, glancing over to you ever so often, sending him winks when you catch him.
loves going on hikes with you, no matter the difficulty, how steep or flat, he just really likes being active and if you join him, he'll be SO happy.
also u know how he loves yoga and meditation? if hiit and sweat-inducing workouts aren't for you, he likes stretching with you and teaching you breathing exercises that help throughout the day.
100/10 MASSEUSE BTW !!!! 👍👍👍👍
ofc, relationships aren't always perfect and especially when dealing with rin, someone who has quite a fair bit of trauma from being abandoned and left behind, it only worsens the tension.
believes you're going to leave him every time </3 like no :( just bc you're mad at him doesn't mean you've stopped loving him.
communication is so important. rin has a tendency to catastrophize a lot so please, put your pride aside and talk to him! reassure him! spend some time with him! that's how post-arguments usually go.
then you'll talk it out calmly, expressing both of your perspectives, apologising for breaking boundaries and trying to adapt accordingly.
this routine is a delicate one and it took months of putting aside your immaturity in order to grow together. especially rin who is so full of pride, but when he realised that his stubbornness wasn't winning him anything, he shattered his hardened perception of self and let you in.
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"rin?" you whisper, poking your head into your shared bedroom delicately, afraid to upset the beast sleeping in there even more.
"what," he snaps, sitting on his side of bed in a hunched over position. he hugs his legs close to his body and the sight breaks your heart a little.
"i'm watching 'the shining', you can join me if you'd like to."
he grumbles something inaudible before you close the door quietly, hoping he'd cave because you chose this movie just so he'd come around. it's his favourite after all.
setting out a bowl of popcorn and some beverages of choice, you just manage to get the movie up when rin emerges from the bedroom, all gloomy and moody. he plops down on the opposite side of the couch, chin on his hand.
he's pretending like you don't exist which is fine by you, you know he'll cave eventually. so, you slide a cup of water and the bowl of popcorn to him and settle in, pressing 'play'.
around 15 minutes in or so, you're too engrossed in the movie to hear rin's quiet shuffling, and how he's now crossed the distance to sit next to you. his hand comes up to your shoulder to get your attention and when he has it, rin's quick to manoeuvre you so that you were now lying down on the couch.
he then plops down, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your chest.
"i'm sorry," whispers the striker. such simple words with such heavy meaning, especially coming from him.
you know he wants to say more, but you know better than he can't get it out, so, you begin threading your fingers through his hair, just how he likes it. rin softens completely against you.
"it's okay," you reassure.
"you're too good for me."
the next morning there's a bouquet of flowers and dessert from your favourite bakery on the kitchen counter.
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rin wakes up at a reasonable hour. he likes to start off his days between 8 to 9 am, with 9-10 hours of sleep.
your sleep cycle has been synced with his because he hates sleeping without you beside him.
unless you have a good reason to push back sleep, he will not stand for it. stop depriving yourself of sleep and give your body the rest it deserves!!!!!
has a set night routine with you.
also i'm sorry but rin loves making out + neck and hand kisses are his favourite to give to you + he loves receiving temple and lip kisses.
goes to parties and clubs but very reluctantly. he doesn't like to drink, especially during soccer season, so there's not a lot of joy he can find in going out, except when he gets to eye you up and down all night and have fun with you AYEEEE 🕺😩
'you can wear whatever u want, i can fight' bf.
one thing you learn abt this man overtime is that he truly does not care how you dress. even tho it seems like he's judging you, he loves everything you wear and will admire you appreciatively 24/7.
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toastermoth · 4 months
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Hey I was wondering if you can do a hc of the OM Characters finding out that MC used to be a singer in the human world but in reality was unsuccessful and doesn’t like mentioning about it at all but still has passion over it. It doesn’t matter about the gender and yeah. If u can Tysm! 🤗
Obey Me! x Gn! Singer!Mc
I had so much fun writing these- tysm anon for requesting!! <3 LUKE IS LIKE YOUR LITTLE BROTHER!!! P.S. You can also read this as platonic or romantic! Lucifer: 1st Born
He finds out because you were taking too long in the shower and heard your captivating voice singing.
He would be surprised and though looking unimpressed on the outside, in the inside this man is so happy if he could he'd squeal like a little girl.
When he's alone with you he'll definitely ask you to sing for him and through small pleas you agree, and when you're done he'll be smiling his signature smile and clapping softly.
"Where did you learn to sing like that y/n?" he asks awaiting your response like a dog waiting for a command.
"Well I just liked singing! I used to be a singer in the human world but it didn't work out.."
He hears your voice break when you say those last 4 words and he is devestated.
How dare nobody appreciate your beautiful voice?!
He must've been glaring because then you said "But I still have a passion for it! They never discouraged me enough to make me quit!
That reassured him as he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Y/n, never give up your passion, and if nobody supports you just know that I will personally string them up and make them appreciate your singing."
You laughed a little and Lucifer was just happy that he was able to hear your amazing gift.
Mammon: 2nd Born (Sorry his is short-)
He finds out one day when he heard you start singing a song for a playlist you're making to study.
WAIT WHAT?!
HIS HUMAN CAN SING?! WHY IS THEIR VOICE SO AMAZING?!
"WHY'D YA NEVER TELL ME?!"
You yelp in surprise and ask what he's talking about.
"YOUR SINGING OBVIOUSLY! IT'S LIKE GRIMM FOR MY EARS!"
You make a face and after much begging by the 2nd born, you decide to tell him
"Well, nobody really liked my singing in the human world.. I tried everything but no matter what I never really got listeners or fans haha.."
This poor man is wondering WHY?! HOW?!
He looks at you with his blue-yellow eyes and cups your face.
He says "Well they're stupid because you got the most amazing voice. Hell better than the angels! And they're angles for fucks sake! Look human, what I'm trying to say, is that you shouldn't listen to anyone who talks down to ya. I'll be your number 1 fan y/n! Nobody is gonna take that spot either ya hear me?"
That reassured you as he tackled you and pulled you into a hug.
"My precious human! How dare they keep this talent from me!"
He probably made a t-shirt saying "Y/N's #1 FAN"
Leviathan: 3rd Born
He found out when you started singing the opening to an anime!
Singer mc?! LEVI.EXE:SHUT_DOWN
Once you knew that he noticed your smile dropped and stopped singing and whispered a small sorry before looking down almost looking shamefully.
"Y-y/n?! Where did you learn to sing?! H-how can you-?!"
This poor boy has so many questions which you were reluclant to answer.
He gave you the cute 'anime girl' eyes (which is what he called it) and he knew you couldn't resist them.
"Mmmm fine. I used to be a singer in the human world and I gave it my all I really did but.. I never got anybody to listen.. I enjoy singing still but only for myself.."
Oh HELL NO. Levi may be shy but he can get ANGRY.
"That's impossible! Your singing is the most amazing thing my ears have ever experienced! You're just like the mc in the anime I'm-A-Secret-Singer-In-Highschool-Living-A-Normal-Life-But-Please-Send-Help!"
The long ass title of course made you snicker but he looked at you with serious eyes and said, "Henry had people who talked down to him but he never gave up! A-and neither should you y/n!!"
Satan: 4th Born
He found out by you humming a tune to singing some of the lyrics from a song in a movie that was inspired by a book that you were looking for in the library.
He couldn't help but be frozen by your hypnotic voice. You didn't notice him until he leaned on a bookshelf and something fell.
"I'm sorry Y/n. I couldn't help but listen to your singing. Where did you learn to sing like that?"
You paused a little bit while he motions you to sit in one of the library chairs.
"Can you tell me y/n?"
You sigh knowing he wouldn't forget about it and would probably ask you about it tomorrow and decide to tell the blonde haired demon.
"Well, in the human world I was a singer and I enjoyed it, loved it actually! But people didn't really like my songs or my voice or anything so I just kinda quit.. I never lost my passion for it though."
He sits looking at you in what you can tell is a mix of anger and confusion.
"Why did you give up? People are ruthless, but I think you should try again y/n. You never know and if they don't like your singing they can suck dick."
The last part of his sentence makes you laugh a bit as he smiles and looks at you saying, "I believe in you y/n. Even when you don't believe in yourself."
Asmodeus: 5th Born
He found out you could sing when he dragged you to a karaoke bar.
"C'mon sweetie! You'll do just fine besides my voice will take the main stage and you can sing backup! We got this we'll crush every demon! And don't worry I'll let you pick the song, as long as it won't ruin my beautiful voice!"
You think he only said the last part because he saw you looked a little nervous but you were still thankful.
After the karaoke session you noticed how everyone there was looking at you and not as Asmo which was weird because he's the lust demon, then you noticed he was even looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.
He bowed to the crowd then dragged you back to the house of Lamination.
"Where did you learn to have such an enchanting voice darling?! That was amazing!! I need to bring you to there again, you'll be all the talk all over Devildom!-"
He stopped once he took a look and saw you looking at your knees in discomfort and silence.
"Sweetie.? Are you alright? Did I make you uncomfortable?" Despite popular belief he was actually very caring and kind and not always self-centered.
You nodded and said, "That was my first crowd in a long time.."
Confused, the pink haired demon asked "Well what do you mean sweetheart?"
So you explained it to him.
"Well, I used to be a singer in the human world but, it didn't really work out and I never really had a crowd that enjoyed my singing but maybe they didn't even enjoy it as much as I do.."
"Y/n. I know demons, and I know just by their faces that they loved our performance. Your performance! Don't be so hard on yourself, because I know that you did amazing and I'm perfect so obviously I'm right!" He said swishing his hair in an attempt to make you smile. (It did)
"There's that smile I adore! Let's get your confidence back and go to more karaoke bars okay? Next time you better sing a duet with me though!"
Beelzebub: 6th Born
How he found out was one time you were baking with Luke and Barbatos (and Beel decided to bring himself to 'taste test.') and a familiar tune came from Barbatos's voice from him humming then Luke joined in singing and eventually you joined in on the fun.
Soon the kitchen was soon made into a ballroom with you singing and dancing with Luke and Barbatos stil humming the music as Beel watches in total awe.
You're a little worn out from singing and dancing till you see the tall orange haired demon looking at you as if you were the most prized food in all of Devildom.
"Y/n your voice is amazing!"
"Ah.. you really think so Beel?"
He nods his head as Barbatos and Luke agrees.
"Well, let's just get back to this cake yeah?" The three boys wondered why you were so dismissive but Barbatos and Luke paid no attention and they continued working. Beel however did not forget about your captivating voice.
On the way back to the house of Lamination he asks, "So you don't need to answer, but why did you just shut down the idea of singing? I really like your voice and I think so does Luke and Barbatos."
"Well it's not somthing I really talk ab-" theres the Beel puppy eyes. Damn you Beel for being adorable.
"Okay.. I used to sing in the human world, and I really loved it so I tried to become a professional but nobody.. really liked my singing as much as I do.. so I kinda gave up on that profession."
This poor boy was shocked.
"But why? Just because some people don't like it doesn't mean you shouldn't. Your voice is very nice to listen to especially when singing. Even if you don't like it I do and so does Luke and Barbatos and everyone who didn't support your singing is stupid."
You smiled knowing at least somebody liked your singing at least one person.
"If you start singing let me know, I want to hear your voice again singing."
Belphegor: 7th Born
How he found out was when he called you up for a nap and said he needed a lullaby.
"Y/nnnn I need something to make me fall asleep I can't fall asleep without oneee.." Which was halfway the truth. After much begging on the behalf of Belphie, you gave in and started singing a small lullaby.
Once you were done singing and started humming Belphie sleepily commented, "Such a mystical voice.. how not famous lullaby singer..."
You laughed a tiny bit to yourself for how sleepy he is and turned to him seeing even though sleepy he was dead serious.
"How are you not famous.?" he asks.
You hesitate to meet him in the eye as he lays close by you, knowing him he'd keep himself awake until you told him or he would lay on you until you told him.
Sighing, you say, "I tried to be famous, to sing as a real singer. But people just, didn't really listen and I was unsuccessful.."
You notice a hand lay you down and the fluffy blue haired demon says, "Well they lost out on a good singer.. that means you're now my professional lullaby singer.. screw the money grabbing producers who can't tell talent."
You smile at him being this caring and start singing another lullaby to lull him to slumber as well as yourself.
"You're the greatest singer and make sure you believe that too.."
OKAY HI THAT TOOK A LONG TIME AND I SORTA GOT LAZY AT THE END- BUT TELL ME IF YOU WANT ME TO DO A PART @ WITH BARBATOS, DIAVOLO, SIMEON, AND SOLOMON!! (AND LITTLE BROTHER LUKE!!!)
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redr0sewrites · 11 days
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(Tumblr kicked me out in the middle of me writing this ask I'm so sorry if you receive this twice 😭)
I JUST READ YOUR STRIKER HEADCANONS AND IM DROOLING RN
I think he likes it when you make him fight for it sometimes. He likes the power struggle. Wrestle with him in bed, make him hold you down, make him tie your wrists together to keep you from flipping him over. If he wants to dom you, make him earn it.
Also? Heavy on the gunplay. It's never loaded of course and you have a safeword should you ever need it, but seeing that little twinge of fear in your eyes when you realize you can't keep fighting him, he won, you're powerless, AND he has a gun pressed against your temple? Delicious. Makes him feel strong.
Could I maybe request something like this?
yes oh my god this is literally what i was thinking when i made those hcs NONNIE U READ MY MIND ♥️
🥀Cw: smut, a bit of fluff, established relationship/consent, reader is gn but there is one use of m'am/sir, powerplay, scratching, biting, gun kink, overall filth
🥀minors dni
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you collapse against the bed as striker pins you down, beating you easily in yet another wrestling match. the mattress dips from your combined weight, and striker used the opportunity to lean down, whispering against your neck. the combination of thefeeling of his breath ticking your sensitive skin and his raspy voice makes you shjver. "aww, how sweet," striker coos, mockingly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "did ya really think y'could beat me, poppet?" you squirm beneath him, his hips planted firmly above you with his thighs caging you in place. you buck your hips upwards, eliciting a hiss from striker as you grind against his prominent buldge. his tail rattles slightly, curling up around your thigh as, with one hand, he grabs you wrists and pins them down above your head.
"fucking brat," striker spat, using his free hand to grab your face, forcing you to look at him. his cowboy hat tipped forward, falling of his head as he leaned down to kiss you messily. you giggle when the hat falls to the side, but the giggle soon melts into a moan as striker grinds down against you. "fuck, doll, look what you do t'me.." striker murmurs against your lips, and you let him slip his tongue into the cavern of your mouth as the hand on your face travels down to your neck.
suddenly, with all your might, you push up against him, attempting to flip him over onto his back. striker lets out a throaty chuckle, tsking when you whine out his name. "y'wanna be on top, sugar? too damn bad," his voice transcends into a growl as he makes quick work of your pants and undergarments. he pulls apart from you to quickly undress himself, and while you remove your top, you also use the time to admire his toned body. "like what ya see?" striker smirks, crawling on top of you again, his hands finding purchase on your supple thighs. he gives your ass an appreciative squeeze before gently teasing your entrance with a finger. "y'ready?" he asks, his voice adopting a softer, serious tone. "if ya want to stop, we always can." you smile, grabbing his hand and pulling it closer to your needy hole. "i know, striker. and i know what i want- i want you, and i want you to touch me." the corner of his mouth twitches, fighting off a crazed grin. "y'really are such a doll, y'know that?" striker whispers huskily, plunging a finger into you. you gasp at the pleasurable intrusion, soon accompanied by a second finger as he stretches you out.
"o-oh! ffuck-" you gasp, keening as he curls his fingers with mind numbing accuracy. striker brushes your hair out of your eyes, watching your face twist in pleasure as you pant. he can feel you practically sucking in his fingers, and a sudden idea strikes him. "open up," striker commands, grabbing his gun from the bedside table. your hole clenches around his fingers and you throb at the sight of the weapon. without hesitation you open your mouth, drool pooling on the edge of your lips as he shoves the gun into your mouth. you gasp, shocked by the cold sensation of the metal against your tongue. you can feel your orgasm approaching fast, the coil in your abdomen squeezing tighter by the second.
suddenly, striker pulls his hand away, relishing in the muffled, needy whimper that slips past your lips. "aw, d'worry poppet," he chuckles, pumping his cock a few times before aligning himself with your hole. "i'd never leave ya unsatisfied". striker thrusted in slowly, watching as your aching hole swallows his cock in a vice-like grip. "o-oh!" you gasp airily, thighs clamping around his waist as you claw down his back. striker begins to move, slowly but surely thrusting into you as you adjust to his size. it takes everything in him not to loose all restraint and fuck you senseless, especially with the way your moaning his name like a prayer. your hole was tightening around him and your wanton moans grew louder and louder, signifying that you were close.
you clench around him impossibly tight, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "striker- oh fuucnghh-" you gasp, your words muffled by the gun stil in your mouth as the coil in your abdomen snaps. your mind went perfectly blank as you ride out your high, striker cursing up a storm as his orgasm follows immediately after you. he pulls out, spilling his seed onto your stomach and chest.
striker gently pulls the gun from your mouth as you come down from your euphoric high, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes and gently massaging your sore jaw.
"y'okay, bubs?" striker asked, gently cupping your face as he collapses beside you. "mhm," you murmur, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his nose. "just a lil' tired..." striker chuckles at your reply, gently kissing your forehead. suddenly, an idea struck you, and you crawl on top of him. striker watches you with amusement as you straddle him, his teeth glinting in the moonlight streaming in from outside your window.
"not too tired for round two, i see," striker snarks, and you shush him. "if you want to cum, then i suggest you stop talking," you reply, and striker swallows hard. "yes m'am/sir," he whispers, wetting his lips as you grind down against him. "i promise i'll behave," he murmurs, eyes glistening with lust as his hands travel to grip your thighs. "we'll see about that," you reply, already knowing your in for a long night.
I HAD TO HYPE MYSELF UP FOR THIS ONE 😭 this will probably have a pt2 w sub striker cuz i cant resist the opportunity- sorry i haven't posted in like a week ive been fighting demons (anxiety and burnout 😭) but i really wanted to finish this! i have a few more wips that will be posted soon, and im considering adding marvel/the mcu to the list of fandoms i write for cuz ive been falling back into my marvel phase lmao. ANYWAYSSSS I HOPE U ENJOYED!!!!
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scoonsalicious · 4 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 28, Unwanted - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, death
Word Count: 861
Previously On...: You're boyfriend's back and Jade's gonna be in trouble. Hey na, hey na...
A/N: THREE MORE CHAPTERS LEFT OMG HOW DID WE GET HERE?!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
Jade was dragging you through the hallways of the base by your hair as she frantically searched for an exit that would keep her out of Bucky’s reach. At first, you tried to keep track of the path you took, making note of turns and counting doorways as you were pulled down long corridors in case the opportunity to escape presented itself and you had to retrace your steps, but the route was so convoluted, and your head so battered, that you quickly lost track of where you were going, and any sense of direction you’d been able to hold onto. 
“I need eyes,” Jade said, more to herself than to you, and soon she was shifting directions. Within moments, she was throwing open a metal door that appeared to lead to a security center. Tossing you unceremoniously inside, she bolted the door behind her and heaved a heavy breath.
“What’s the matter?” you asked, your tone dangerously mocking. “If he loves you as much as you think he does, you shouldn’t have any reason to run from him.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Jade chanted. She moved over to the row of security monitors and began quickly cycling through the screens. “Gotta find an exit,” she murmured to herself. “There has to be a way out where he won’t see.”
You took the opportunity her distraction provided to study the rest of the monitors, hoping to find some subtle way to contact Bucky, to let him know where you were or, at the very least, to try and find an escape route of your own. 
“How did he know where to find you?” Jade muttered as she continued to flip through the feeds.
You opted not to answer; you’d be a fucking idiot to reveal your distress bangle now. If you could keep it a secret from Jade, you’d ensure that Bucky would have the ability to find you, no matter where she ended up taking you. It would also let him know you were still alive.
You scanned the rest of the monitors, instead, and were shocked by what you saw: Room after room was littered in corpses; bloody, mangled, bodies where there had once been Hydra agents. Your eyes landed on a monitor in the far left corner of the room, and you saw him. Bucky was covered head to toe in the blood of his enemies, dual guns raised in the air as he opened fire on anyone who stood in his way. Though you couldn’t hear the words coming from his mouth, you could read his lips well enough to know he was screaming your name, searching for you as he tore through the facility, slaughtering every Hydra operative that crossed his path.
You had never seen him so enraged before. Yes, you knew that, as the Winter Soldier, he’d been capable of immense violence– you’d seen video footage of him in action, after all, but this? This was so much worse than that. Because Soldat complied. And Bucky Barnes? He was out for blood.*
You should have been frightened by the blatant display of absolute brutality, should have been repulsed by it. But instead, it excited you. It thrilled you, because you knew that he was doing this for you. To get you back, to keep you safe. He was willing to damn his soul to hell to protect you when you needed him. You should have been disgusted, but you’d never been more turned on by him in your life.
“Gotcha!” Jade exclaimed, drawing your attention back to her. She’d stopped her cycling through the security feeds on a non-descript door that, so far, seemed to have been spared from the ongoing carnage. Moving to a locker beside the desk, Jade reached inside and pulled out a handgun and several clips of ammo, tucking them snuggly into her belt.
“Come on,” she said, reaching out and grabbing your hair once more. “You’re my human shield for getting out of here.” She dragged you back out of the security station and into the hallway, looking both ways before turning left and sprinting down the corridor. It was all you could do to keep up; you had no doubt that if you faltered, she’d drag you across the floor behind her without a second thought. 
In minutes, you were at the door you’d seen in the feed. Jade let go of your hair and trained her gun on your head. “Open it,” she commanded. 
You winced in pain as you yanked on the door with your right hand, the left dangling limply and uselessly at your side. “Hurry up!” Jade shouted at you.
“I’m trying,” you grunted as you pulled. “The door’s fucking heavy, and in case you forgot, I’m down an arm because of you.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jade grumbled, reaching around you to yank the door open, herself. “Do I have to do fucking everything around here?” She jabbed the barrel of her gun into your back. “Go,” she urged.
You stepped into the darkness of the open tunnel and, doing your best not to stumble or jostle your ruined arm, began to walk.
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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navybrat817 · 1 year
Text
Christmas Karma
Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: Nick doesn't appreciate anyone pushing you around, especially when you're shopping. Word Count: Over 1.8k Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, threat of violence, implied explicit sexual content, swearing, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?) being a little grinchy, but we love him. A/N: I present to you lovelies my writing challenge fic and gift exchange for the Thot Neighborhood's Tis the Season to be Thot-y! @angrythingstarlight , I hope you enjoy your fic! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @sgt-seabass , but any and all mistakes are my own. Also thanks to @sweeterthanthis and @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog regarding this idea. Banner and moodboard by yours truly, divider by the wonderful @firefly-graphics , and prompts at the end of the fic. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Nick wasn't in the mood to be out and about today. He wondered if he could blame his grinchy mood on the cold, but the winter weather never bothered him. It was also a good excuse to keep you close. He could think of plenty of ways to warm you up and wanted to pull you back inside the minute the two of you left your home.
"Sweetheart," he grumbled. "Do we have to go shopping?"
He bought your gifts weeks ago and kept them in his office so you wouldn't find them. You asked him not to go overboard, but he couldn't help himself. You deserved to be spoiled and he couldn't wait to watch your face light up as you opened each gift.
He had a special gift saved for last.
"Nick, you promised," you reminded him when you tugged on his hand. "Just two small things and that's it."
Like him, you had your shopping done, even when he told you he had the one thing he wanted: you. Brushing that off with a giggle, you told him even the man who has everything deserves a present. Your gifts were always thoughtful. A last minute invitation to a neighbor's party, however, threw you for a loop. Not only did you insist on buying a gift for the hostess, but you needed to buy something for one of the games planned.
Which sparked a debate over whether to call the game "White Elephant" or "Rob Your Neighbor".
"Two things and we're really done?"
"That's it. We won't be out long," you smirked when he sighed. The look in your eyes made him want to drag you back inside more. "You can have me all to yourself when we're done. I'll even wear that little blue number you like when we have dinner as a thank you."
Nick ran his tongue along his bottom lip. It was one of the few pieces of lingerie he hadn't destroyed. Not because he couldn't afford it, but because you loved it as much as he did.
"We'll see if you can make it to dessert," you added.
"Tease," he whispered.
You both knew he'd have you bent over the table before the night was over.
All he had to do was make it through shopping.
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"You sure this is a good idea?" he half joked as he watched a man fill up the trunk of his car with shopping bags.
"Yes," you smiled as you lightly hit his arm. "Even though I may have underestimated just how packed the parking lot would be."
He circled the lot twice to no avail and finally stopped when a nice guy waved him down and pointed to his car. The space was close to the door, too. Maybe they would be in and out quicker than he thought.
"Just for that, you should wear that new red number tomorrow," he suggested, giving the guy a nod as he backed out of the space and drove away. "My favorite next to the blue."
"See, now you're just looking for excuses to-"
Nick was about to turn into the parking spot when a red beamer nearly swiped his front bumper, drawing a gasp from you as he laid on his horn.
He didn't care that the prick almost hit him, but fuck anyone who scares his girl.
"Are you okay?" he asked, turning to look at you as you swallowed.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you assured him, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze. "Just wasn't expecting that. He came out of nowhere."
"He's lucky he didn't hit anyone," he said, bringing your hand to his mouth as the man got out.
Maybe it was his sour mood playing tricks on his mind, but he swore the smarmy asshole smirked at him before he headed toward the store.
Fucker. All I have to do is swerve and-
"Don't do anything," you said, as if you read his mind. "I don't mind walking. Besides, Christmas karma will get him."
He had to smile as you tried to make the best of the situation. "What exactly is 'Christmas karma'?"
"The brilliant and gorgeous Nick Fowler doesn't know what that is? Please, give me a moment to bask in this glory," you teased, making a show of closing your eyes and opening them again as he chuckled. You enjoyed stroking his ego. "It's karma, but it's wrapped in a pretty bow."
"I prefer you in a pretty bow," he winked.
"You're getting the blue number and possibly the red. Don't push it," you smiled.
He chuckled before he drove to the front of the store. "And I'm not making you walk," he said, putting the flashers on before he got out and went around to your door. "You go ahead. I'll find a spot."
You stopped to give him a kiss once he helped you out of the car. "Thank you. I'll see you inside."
That Christmas karma you mentioned must have been on Nick's side as he was able to find a spot a minute later.
His good deed for not running that prick over.
You messaged Nick to let him know which section you went to as he went inside to find you. He managed to bite his tongue as he dodged people who thought walking with their carts in the middle of the aisle was normal. You would have been proud that he kept his opinion to himself.
He smiled to himself when he saw you carefully looking through one of the shelves, one gift in your hand. The more he thought about it, the more he thought part of his bad mood had to do with the fact that it wasn't Christmas yet. He began to second guess if proposing that day was the right decision. He had complete confidence in the ring. One of a kind and crafted to perfection, just like you. He just didn't want a holiday proposal to be too cliche.
He meant what he said that you were the only thing he wanted for Christmas.
The smile slipped off his face as you reached for a box on the shelf, only to be bumped by the large guy standing beside you. The motion was too rough not to be an accident, but you managed to hold onto the gift as you found your footing. His eyes narrowed as he got a better look at the man who had the nerve to touch you.
It was the asshole who almost hit his car.
A special kind of asshole who apparently liked to shove women out of the way to get what they want.
"Excuse me," you said politely, even though the push wasn't your fault.
"Yeah, excuse you. You wanna hand that over? Now?" the guy snapped, trying to take the box as you pulled it out of his reach.
"No, I don't. I'm sorry," you said, frowning as he blocked your path.
"I was reaching for it and you snatched it. Give it to me," he said, putting his hand out.
Nick saw red as he padded across the floor, a few people moving out of his way. You once told him he had a murderous expression when pushed to that point. With his broad shoulders and fury flashing in his blue eyes, he was sure he looked like he was going to go on a rampage.
He should have just hit the guy earlier and been done with it.
You put your chin up as the man tried to grab the box again. "There are plenty of other gifts you can find," you said, an edge of annoyance creeping into your voice. "Please, excuse me."
"Bitch, give me that-"
"Step away from my wife."
You inhaled sharply at the deadly calm in Nick's voice. He didn't like to shout unless he had to, but the deep, quiet tone wasn't a good sign for anyone on the receiving end. Up close, the guy was smaller than him and all bark.
Or maybe the deadly look of his rendered him speechless momentarily.
"Or what? She took my gift," he accused.
"And you took my parking space," Nick lifted one shoulder in a bored shrug. "I memorized your license plate, by the way. I'm curious if I have someone run your plates if anything would come up. You seem like an 'outstanding parking tickets' kind of guy. Maybe worse. Would be a shame to ruin your holiday."
Even if he had a clear record, he could pay someone off to teach him a lesson.
But the way the color drained from the guy's face, he was in some kind of trouble. "She can keep it."
"You'll pay for it. Both gifts as a way to say you're sorry," Nick demanded, his voice low. "And anything else she wants in this store."
"Just these," you said with a smile before you thought about it. "Oh. And maybe a small donation to them," you added, nodding toward a group in Santa hats near the front of the store.
"Oh, god. Not the carol singers," the man grumbled. "I'd rather punch them."
Nick kind of understood where he was coming from. He grew tired of the same songs after hearing them over and over. But if that was what you wanted, he'd make it happen.
"Nick, you sure you don't want to call the station?" you asked innocently.
"Okay, okay. The gifts and a donation to the carolers. Happy?"
"Very happy," you said as Nick slipped an arm around your waist. "It's the season of giving and we appreciate it."
"Go to the counter. Now," Nick ordered.
You muffled your laughter as the guy took off, both of you following close behind. "You're really making him pay for these? We have the money."
"It's the principle. He's lucky I didn't shoot him for treating you the way he did."
He was still considering it.
"Well, thank you for not killing him. As much as I support you and your endeavors, committing a crime like that in public could get you into trouble and I don't want to spend Christmas alone," you smiled before you cleared your throat. "You called me your wife."
"I did," he said. It slipped out before he could stop himself. "And I didn't hear you correcting me."
"Because it felt nice to hear," you smiled, stopping him before you got to the counter. "But I do need a ring on my finger."
"Maybe Santa will bring you one," he teased.
"Maybe I'll say 'yes'," you said, glancing above your heads where mistletoe hung. "And I think my future husband deserves a kiss before we go home."
He placed a soft and tender kiss on your lips. Maybe a Christmas proposal wouldn't be so cliche after all. Like you said, it was the season of giving and he wanted to give you all of him.
And in the spirit of giving, he wouldn't call the cops until after the holiday to run the plates.
Maybe they'd even put a bow on the warrant.
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Hope you lovelies enjoyed this holiday treat. Love and thanks for reading!
Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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