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lucky-bucky-boy · 8 months

Text

Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not.

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents.

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside.

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days.

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit.

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily.

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that.

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page.

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up?

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable.

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it.

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure.

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left.

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling.

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything.

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil.

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food."

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?"

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect."

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get.

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky.

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there."

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes."

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier.

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter.

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done."

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you.

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize.

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up.

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you.

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself.

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom.

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into.

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him.

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him.

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes.

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different."

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now.

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body?

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it.

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words."

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal."

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost.

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing.

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his.

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting.

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last.

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that."

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist.

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core.

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again.

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair.

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye.

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out.

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice.

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this."

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up.

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?"

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded.

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core.

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste.

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud.

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved.

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day."

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him.

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination.

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath.

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that."

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?"

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly.

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this.

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely.

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you.

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you.

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?"

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name.

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you.

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

#bucky barnes #marvel #seb stan #marvel smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes #james barnes smut

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ft-3racha · 5 months

Note

Yunho, size kink, lots of hands pls 🤪, with a lot of fluff, lovely aftercare

new necklace (ft. jeong yunho)

pairing: jeong yunho (ateez) x gn reader

warnings: smut!!!(minors dni!); established relationship, clear d/s dynamics, bigdick!dom!yunho x curious!sub!reader, hands (🤪), size kink (heavy), degrading, praise, fingering (reader rec), choking, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), breeding kink, creampie, multiple orgasms (reader rec), a little teeny tiny angsty bc of problems regarding their sex life, ending with fluff and aftercare bc yunho is a gentle giant at heart <3

author‘s note: your wish is my command! how could i not write this ask??? as soon as i read this, the gears in my head started spinning and produced this piece. enjoy. :))

wc: 3,6k (oops-)

____________

„i‘m cumming, baby.“

i know, you thought to yourself, before your boyfriend pulled himself out of you to release himself on your lower back. as always. yours and yunho‘s relationship was absolutely beautiful, and so was the sex. the only problem: it was always the same. he made you cum with his hands, then you guys fucked until you came a second time before he chased his own release, which always resulted in him unloading on your back, kissing you on your forehead and getting a towel to clean up the mess he produced.

it was good, but you sure as hell missed something. you always had the feeling that yunho was holding himself back, for whatever reason that may be; he just absolutely didn‘t look like the vanilla kind of guy he was trying to be. or so you were hoping deep down.

a couple of days, and a shopping spree online later, you find yourself in your shared bedroom, the parcel on your bed opened up and it‘s containments already on your body. as you look into the mirror, you admire the white silky robe against your skin, hiding your nude body from unwanted eyes; actually, any eyes other than your boyfriends were unwanted. together with that beautiful shining piece of fabric you ordered another thing adorning your lower half: it was a beautiful bottom piece completely made out of white lace. that color was chosen on purpose, because it made you look the most innocent; what you were planning was far from that though. just a few minutes prior you had taken some sultry pictures of yourself posing in your new undergarments, not even thinking a second before sending them straight to yunho. it didn‘t take him longer than five minutes to reply with a casual „i‘m at work, love“. well, no shit, that was kind of the whole point. your answer was a question, straight to the point with a little bit of attitude: „what are you gonna do about it?“.

silence. all that followed was unanswered, mysterious and unsatisfying silence. you were hoping that yunho would understand what you were trying to do, that you wanted to tease him and rile him up with your bratty behaviorism. but he unknowingly ended all potential fun and experimental games before they had even begun. you threw your phone to the side, exhaling heavily while closing the robe with a knot in the front. the rest of the day was spent with chores as you tried your best to get your mind off of the disappointment that was spread all throughout your being. the sun was close to being set, and you just finished wiping down the kitchen, when you heard your phone go off. nonchalantly, you went to check it, and you did a double take when you openend the message you received. it was from yunho.

„wait for me in the bedroom in that outfit. on your knees. be home in 15.“

speechless. absolutely no words were leaving your mouth, but more so roaming in your mind as heat spread through your entire body. you did exactly as yunho requested you to do, his message making it sound as if you had no other choice but to obey to him. exactly how you wanted it to be.

14 minutes and 52 seconds later you heard the front door open and lock back up. normally it took him about 20 minutes to get home from work, you figured he went a little over the speed limit for the perfect reason. if he were to get a ticket, you would definitely forgive him. and while you were doing as he asked, yunho came through the door, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his thoughts going wild. nevertheless, he calmly took off his jacket, hung it up neatly and placed his bag down in it‘s designated spot before taking off his shoes as well. a deep breath left his plump lips, the exhaled air hot and heavy; with slow and heavy steps he made his way towards the bedroom, cuffing the sleeves of his white button up and pushing them up to his elbows in the meantime. it was exciting to him, almost as if he was a predator on the hunt, because he could only imagine what the current scenario did to you; how it made your breath hitch in your throat with every single step that was taken, how a shiver ran down your spine at the thought of what he was going to do to you, how excited you were about not knowing what was going to happen.

yunho slowly opened the door, and what he saw kicked all the air out of his lungs. you looked so stunning, so ready for him to destroy you: perfectly sat on your knees in front of the bed, your robe untied, the white lace still adorning your lower body. your gaze faced towards the ground, palms neatly sat on your legs. so good for him, and him only. the door closed, but you didn‘t dare to lift your eyes. yunho stepped closer and came to a halt right in front of you, yet all you could see was his feet and the beginning of his black slacks that were covering his beautiful long legs from your desperate view.

„beautiful“, was the first word that left him, and it made a chill creep up your entire being at how deliciously deep his voice was. „did you do all of this for me?“ you nodded, his presence so domineering that it took away your ability to speak. you knew he wasn’t as vanilla as he was pretending to be. „you should use your words when asked a question, sweetheart.“ sweetheart. you considered yourself lucky to be sat in this very moment, otherwise your knees would‘ve given out. wanting to please him in every way possible, you slowly lift your gaze and almost inaudibly answered: „yes, i did. all for you.“ „good baby.“ a needy whine escaped your throat at the praise, not used to yunho being as vocal as he turned out to be. his dark eyes raked over your submissive form; glossy and half-lidded, irisis almost eaten up by enlarged pupils. he slowly made his way over to the bed and sat down on the edge, instructing you to get up and sit on his lap. you do as you‘re told without another word, finding yourself on him only seconds later. his big hand cradled the side of your face, the calloused pad of his thumb slowly pulling at your bottom lip, it snapping back in place immediately after he let go. „kiss me, please“, you begged him, overwhelmed with the feeling of him surrounding you entirely. „you sound so fucking pretty when you beg“, is all he said before giving in to your request, his lips engulfing yours in a kiss so passionate it made you throb with need. it was all tongue and teeth, desparation visible on both sides. but it might‘ve just been the best kiss you‘ve ever shared. you felt him everywhere, long fingers digging into your scalp, slightly pulling your head to the side as his lips traced your neck, wet kisses spreading all over it. „my god, you are so stunning“, he spoke lowly into your ear, earning a moan from you in response, „can you feel what you are doing to me?“ indeed. as soon as he said that, you could feel how hard he was inside of his pants, his cock trying to break free while poking at your center. experimentally, you started rolling your hips, to which yunho responded with an almost animalistic sound escaping his throat. „so desperate“, he mumbled, his hand itching its way from your scalp to the front of your throat, „want me to choke you, baby?“ „god, please“, was all you could say, the thought of his hand around your neck causing you to involuntarily clench around nothing. you’ve always had a thing for his hand, and yunho knew; he saw your little glances here and there, but never said a word. it was cute, almost naively sweet even, how something so normal to him could rile you up so easily still, even after having been together for awhile now. he had never asked to choke you before, but feeling those slender fingers expertly applying pressure on the spots where your charotid artery lays had you crying out his name, your thoughts revolving around nothing but him while your hips ground into him with more pressure in search of any kind of friction. „look at you“, he almost growled, hazy eyes scanning you with a smirk on his deviously handsome face, „all it takes is my hand around your neck and you start acting like a desperate little whore?“ the name had you internally screaming, the combination of praising and degrading words tumbling out of him hitting you just right.

next thing you know his hand leaves your neck and you find yourself on your back, the white robe having been cascaded in the process. „are you gonna be a good slut for me, hm? you gonna behave?“, yunho asked, his dominant frame hanging over you as his big hand lays on your inner thigh. „i promise“, you answered so fast it was almost pathetic, „i‘ll be so good. just want your cock inside of me, please.“ „i have to stretch you out first, baby. don‘t think your tight little hole can handle it without.“ and he was right. there was a reason to the beginning of your usually bland sex routine: he had to make you cum with his hands first to help you relax, to help you adjust to him easier, because he was a sight for sore eyes. he always stood tall, not only having been blessed in height but also in size. thats why, even after many times of sharing the bed with him, you find yourself still not used to his impressive length. slowly testing the waters, you reply: „give me your fingers then, so i‘ll be able to take your big cock.“ he groaned, and you added a very obvious size kink to your mental notes; you had suspected it for a while after having been asked if „it will even fit“ and being reminded of „how tight you are“ a couple of times before. yunho pulled down your panties almost in a hurry, attaching his fingers to you as soon as the lace left your body and hit the floor. finally. „inside, please“, was all you were able to say, mind foggy with the need of him filling you up. and he did just that, his pointer and middle finger breaking past your entrance and into you, deliciously stretching you out. both of you moaned at the feeling, yunho finally realizing how badly you really needed him after feeling your wetness trickle down his hand, and you because you almost came from him just inserting two fingers. the chokehold this man had on you in this very moment was absolutely driving you crazy. „always so fucking ready for me, shit“. he cursed before driving his long digits into you with force, hitting the spot that made your toes curl and your hairs stand at the back of your neck. your hands flew to his back, clinging to the thin material of his dress shirt. the fact that he was doing your fully naked form fully dressed drove you insane, the humiliating feeling adding to your pleasure. his name left your lips like a prayer, as if he was the only thing that mattered in this world, and for you, he was.

the way your orgasm approached so quickly left you shocked, not even being able to warn him before it happened, and you swore to yourself in that very moment that you never came that incredibly hard because of just his hands; in fact, you probably never came that hard in your entire life. he helped you calm down, softly stroking your thigh to soothe you and help you calm down from your orgasm, letting his gentleness peak through for just a second, checking in and making sure you were okay before all of it left again in the blink of an eye. his newfound duality was crazy, but crazy attractive indeed. relishing in your post-orgasmic state, you barely realized that yunho had gotten up, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and leaving it to mingle alongside your panties on the floor, his slacks and boxers joining just a minute later. as he hovered back above you, you saw him in all his glory, the tip of his long cock leaking precum, and you couldn‘t help your hand finding his shaft, stroking him slowly. „so big“, you state softly, doe eyes finding his, „it‘ll stretch me out so nice, will hurt so good.“ „fuck“, he cursed, tip prodding at your abused hole, „i‘m gonna fill you up so good, and you‘ll take it all.“ with that, you felt him slowly fill you up, and you nodded alongside that burning feeling you loved so much. „look at how you swallow my cock, greedy little slut can never get enough of it, isn‘t that right?“ his pelvis met yours as his tip kissed your spot with the right amount of force, making you see stars in the process. „yes yunho, feels s‘ good.“ you couldn’t even form coherent sentences anymore, already too fucked out from him just entering. he bottomed out slowly, barely having left you before pushing all the way back in with a little more strength. you arched your back and clawed at his, moans and whimpers leaving you, and that‘s all it took for him to finally let go. his cock rammed into you hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoed from the walls. it was as if the english language had left you completely, barely understandable mumbling and cries of pleasure being the only things leaving your mouth alongside his name. „shit angel“, yunho panted above you, your nails raked down his back at the nickname, marking him up, „you feel so fucking tight around my big cock. tell me, who do you belong to?“ „you“, you answered immediately without a second thought. „i bet nobody could ever make you feel the same.“ „never“, you reassured, causing him to speed up even more, „y’ make me feel so fucking good. cock‘s so big, can feel it in my tummy.“ as those words left your mouth you felt that familiar feeling built up again. yunho must‘ve felt it too, probably because you kept clenching around him, because he leaned down, lowly whispering in your ear: „cum for me, now.“ and you did, your second orgasm of the night not washing over you, but rather hitting you like a brick. your vision turned blurry as your whole body tensed up, thighs spasming and hole clenching around yunho to the point where he had to still completely to ensure he didn‘t spill, wanting to relish in the feeling of your heat just a little longer.

he helped you again, gently stroking your hips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you slowly came back to this planet. you feared it was over, were scared that it would be the same as always from now on, but you were met with a stern gaze again as soon as he realized you were good still. „on all fours, ass up.“ that was a new one. usually sticking to just missionary, you were surprised when you found yourself with your face pressed into the pillow and your back arched, ass up in the air. yunho stood behind you on his knees, his cock now glistening in a mixture of your fluids. „hands behind your back“, he instructed as you gave him your hands to hold behind youf back with one of his giant ones, the other one used to guide his cock back into you. the new angle made you moan, mentally cursing yourself for not suggesting this position sooner, because fucking hell, did it feel fantastic. he could reach even deeper, making you feel fuller than ever before. now you could really feel him rearrange your guts. he wasted no time. snapping his hips into yours at a ruthless pace, no mercy to be found. „you feel so fucking good“, he praised, „my good little whore. all mine.“ this man and his filthy mouth will be the death of you. „so full“, you whimper. „yeah? gonna fill you up even more.“ the moan that escaped you after that statement could put pornstars out of business. „you‘d like that, huh? want me to pump your tight little hole full of my cum?“ all you could do was nod in response, the thought occupying your mind completely. breeding you was never a topic of discussion; it has been a silent agreement from the get go for him to pull out, eventhough the thought of him filling you up had crossed your mind multiple times beforehand, and not once did you mind it. not at all. so you nodded again, clenching around him before answering with a desperate tone: „please fill me, use me. i can take it all.“ you didn‘t think it was possible, but after that he sped up even more, not only chasing your third orgasm of the night but his own as well. he pulled you up by your neck, your back colliding with his chest as his big hand wrapped around your throat again, choking you from behind while relentlessly pounding into you. you could feel your orgasm approaching again, hearing him mumble some more praise into your ear, always mixed with those delicious derogatory words. „my good little slut, so ready to take my cum. gon‘ give it to you, just a little more.“ his thrusts got sloppier after that, not once going down in roughness as they did. „yunho, i‘m-“, was all you managed to stutter out, before your third and final orgasm hit you like a truck, your whole body clenching and tensing up in yunhos arms. and as he felt you clench and pulse around his cock, yunho‘s orgasm hit him as well, causing him to spill his seee inside of you. it felt good, almost animalistic; as if he was marking you up from within, and you loved every second of it.

all that was heard after was both of your heavy breathings in the heavier air. yunho slowly lowered you onto the bed, caressing your hair while you snuggled up to his chest. the room probably reeked of sweat and sex, but you couldn‘t care less. „you did so great, my love“, yunho spoke up after taking a minute to breathe, „so incredible for me. i love you so much.“ „i love you too“, you smiled up at him, before laughing lightly, „you fucking animal.“ he laughed, his cheeks coating themselves in redness. „i always felt like you were holding back“, you stated, to which he just nodded. „i did, yeah. didn‘t wanna scare you away.“ you could (metaphorically) hit him in the head for not just speaking up about his desires, but neither did you, so you chose not to scold him for that. instead, your heart swell at the fact that he didn‘t wanna scare you, and you lifted your head, slowly entangling your lips in a sweet kiss.

a couple of minutes of you guys reflecting on your session and cuddling in bed passed by, before yunho got up to run a bath for the both of you; your sore muscles couldn‘t thank him more. he came back seconds later with a wet towel, the water running in the background. „is it okay if i clean you, or do you wanna do that yourself?“, he asked cautiously, and you appreciated his thoughtfulness, especially in moments like these. „you can do it. thank you, love“, you answered as he slowly spread your sore legs to clean up the mess both of you produced. once he finished that up, he picked up the clothes from the floor, tossed them in the washer alongside the towel and got you some water and snacks for you to hydrate and gain back some energy. and as you laid in your warm bath yunho sat behind you, massaging your shoulders skillfully. „that feels really nice. thank you for preparing all of this, i really appreciate it.“ you letting him know that made his head spin and his belly fuzzy. „no worries, beautiful. thank you for letting me take control of your body and making you feel good. it means a lot, and it‘s not something i take lighthearted“, he replied and you blushed. yunho always let you know that he appreciates your body, but hearing him say it after such an intense session was extra special. „i trust you“, was all you said, before letting your head fall on his chest, his arms snaking around your waist and connecting with your hands in the front of your body. „how about we lay in here for a bit more, then we wash up, get into something comfortable and i order our favorite while you pick out a comforting movie?“, yunho asks with a soothing voice, playing with your fingers absentmindedly. you nodded in response, a shy smile grazing your features, before you guys get back into conversation about nothing particular, sharing love confessions, laughter and mindless kisses surrounded by bubbles and sweet lavender air.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ft-3racha‘s ask

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pwinkprincess · 3 months

Text

my doll, my princess ୨ৎ

megumi roughly fucking his princess :3 ୨ৎ

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ MY DOLL, MY PRINCESS ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ---> aged up (20+) characters, emo x bimbo, creampie, p in v, rough sex, praising, pet names (baby, princess), light begging, oral sex [m receiving], squirting, dom/sub undertones, breeding kink, possessiveness, talks of recording, black reader :3 but anyone can read

megumi can’t help it. the way your naturally full lips turn into a pout whenever he says something you don’t want to hear. the way your acrylic nails scratch over his arm (or sometimes his scalp whenever he’s feeling extra vulnerable). the way you’d say ‘gumi’ with a huff as you try to defend yourself from his teasing. you look so innocent but in reality you’re his slutty girl.

no one ever said being a sorcerer would be easy, hell, if anything he got told everyday that it’s hard. but as he aged and grew into an adult, he found balancing a normal life and being a sorcerer impossible. he would come home at inconsistent hours in the morning, just to go back to work a few hours later. it was genuinely becoming a job instead of a passion.

it felt like he was already tensed and pent up. he tried working out for extensive hours, didn’t work. he tried sparring with yuji, didn’t work. he even reluctantly went to get a massage with nabora, still didn’t work. he was beginning to accept that this was his life now. he now understood why nanami walked around with a permanent frown.

that was all until he discovered you. he had exited the local cafe after ordering himself a iced white mocha frappe. he had just got done with an intense session in the gym and felt like he earned himself a sweet treat. he was walking towards his car that was parked in the parking lot until he heard a feminine voice squeak out, ‘sir!’. he turned around and that’s when his eyes landed on a brown skinned woman. her entire outfit was decked out in pink, there were cute little bows in her hair, and her outfit was a mini skirt with a cropped shirt. she was absolutely adorable.

“yes?” megumi asks with a confused expression on his face.

her heel boots clacked against the concrete as she made her way towards him. megumi realized that she’s actually even more breathtaking up close. the way her head had to turn up to make eye contact with him made his dick stir with curiosity.

“uhm, so, i noticed you from where i sat in the cafe.. and i think you’re really handsome and i wanted to know if i could get your number.” megumi’s eyes shifted from confusion to shock, he had never been approached so boldly before. he found himself enjoying the boldness.

“i-i.. sure?” he responded. this was so abrupt that he didn’t have time to seem confident. suddenly, he remembered he’s all sweaty and possibly flushed still. he should’ve taken a shower at the gym instead of waiting to get home.

a smile adorned her pretty face. great, she’s even prettier when she smiles. megumi felt like he was going to faint.

“gumi, am i not making you feel good?” your voice knocks him out of his thoughts. his eyes glance down to where you are. you’re seated in between his legs with drool dripping down your face. you hold his dick in your hand casually as if it was a natural thing to do. there’s a pout on your face as you look up at him for reassurance.

“you are, baby. you’re making me feel so fucking good.” he leans up a little so that he could cradle your cheek with one hand, “i’m sorry, i just got lost in my thoughts for a second.” he coos as he replaces your hand on his dick with his own. he guides your head back onto it and like the good girl you are you open your mouth and welcome his dick back into your mouth.

he uses two hands to guide your head back and forth. the sound and feeling of you gagging as you try to deepthroat makes megumi’s eyes roll back. he uses your head as if it’s a fleshlight. his hips occasionally buck to meet your mouth, no matter how many times he tries to suppress doing so.

your hands rest on his thighs as you squeeze your eyes closed. stray tears escape from your eyes, no matter how many times you try to blink them back.

megumi still could not believe he has gotten his hands on something so delicate. that little innocent facade you like to put on towards strangers. megumi had fell for it until you practically begged him to let you ride his cock. he still remembers how tears and drool leaked out as you bounced your way into becoming dick dumb.

“my little cockslut.” he coos at you. when you moan out from his words, it sends a vibration up his cock causing his toes to curl. “fuck- i wanna cum inside your tight pussy, baby. c’mere.” he slowly removes his cock from your mouth, he bites down on his lip while he watches you smear your own drool and his precum on your gorgeous face. “my nasty girl.” he says as he pulls you up and onto his lap.

you let out a breathy gasp when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit, it’s almost embarrassing how fast your hips begin to buck. megumi would usually tease your clit some more but he had already denied himself once when you were sucking his cock. he was feeling way too sensitive to tease you.

“gumiiiiii.” you whined as he slowly began entering you. your pussy immediately began clenching around his length as he made slow work of bottoming out inside of you. “haaaa! gumi your cock is so big!” you always knew how to stroke his ego.

“shh, princess. you’re gonna take my cock like you always do. be my good girl.” he says as he softly thrusts his hips up.

being the pillow princess you are, of course you’re gonna ride with your knees instead of planting your feet. you press your chest that was poorly covered with a size too small bikini top against his as you begin meeting his thrusts. he doesn’t waste any time getting rougher with you. his hands grab the fat of your ass cheeks as he plumpets into you.

“shit!” you gasp as your eyes roll back.

“watch your mouth.” he threatens.

you lower your head and begin placing sloppy kisses on his jaw as an apology. your acrylic nails press into his shoulder blades as you try to take everything he’s giving you without complaint. the sound of your wet pussy making noise every time he slams back into you is enduring.

“i should record you, let everyone see how my little innocent girl is actually a slut.” he pumps faster into you. you couldn’t keep up with his inhumane speed, you were practically forced to just stay there and take it. “wouldn’t do that though. you and this pussy belongs to me, no one deserves to see it.” he growls out. the feeling of his grasp tightening on your ass cheeks makes you groan.

“yes, gumi! i’m yours, only yours! no one else's!” you scream out once you feel your stomach flutter. megumi knowing you like the back of his hand, lets go of your ass cheek and instead starts rubbing at your clit.

“cum for me, baby.” he coaxes. he rubs with an almost painful speed. your breathing gets caught in your chest as you try to warn him that you’re coming. your poor pussy squirts around his cock. the fluid streaming out like a jet.

megumi moans shamelessly at the sight and feeling. his toes curl as he suddenly leans up and bites into your shoulder. his cock twitches as his sensitive tip begins spurting out his cum right into your pussy.

“gonna make you a fucking mother. have you so full and round with my seed.you want that? hm, baby? you wanna walk around with my claim on you?” he babbles drunkenly.

“yes, gumi! please make me a mother! please!” you agree in the heat of the moment. the two of you continue talking dumbly to each other until megumi finally stop orgasming. he pulls out and his cum immediately drips down onto his thigh.

“fuck, princess.” he mumbles before pulling you into a kiss. “what do you say for me cumming in you?” he asks once he pulls away.

“thank you, gumi.” you reply with a bright smile. fuck, you’re so pretty.

#pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #gumi ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶#jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #megumi x you #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black!fem reader

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arieslost · 2 months

Text

act up | op81

summary: you and oscar have been skirting around each other for ages. it ends tonight.

word count: 949

warnings: drinking (we’re back in the club!), suggestive comments/moments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

oscar couldn’t stop staring at you, and he had no one to blame but himself.

well, himself and the empty shot glass in his hand. he’d lost count of how many times he’d tipped the contents of the glass down his throat, and it’s like that saying— a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. or however it goes. if oscar were to insert himself in that equation now, he’d be the drunk guy.

the drunk guy who wanted to do nothing but stare at the girl sitting on his lap: you. he couldn’t remember how you got there for the life of him, but hell, he wouldn’t be caught dead complaining about it. it felt good to let his inhibitions go and his anxiety with them, even if all he was doing was sitting there with his arm around your waist, hand resting on your thigh.

you’re waving down the bartender to pour the two of you another round of shots from where you both sit in a booth, and he uses the liquid courage to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“are you trying to make me act up tonight?” he murmurs in your ear.

you press your lips together, tilting your head towards him so you’re practically cheek to cheek. “maybe. got a problem with that?”

“nope.”

he’s surprised at himself for his lack of filter and complete honesty with you; normally he isn’t even able to look anywhere near you without feeling his face getting hot. the same could be said about you, honestly. the boldest you’ve ever been towards him is giving him a kiss on the cheek when he got a podium finish a month ago, and both of you were bright red afterwards even though you both loved it. it didn’t help that lando had, of course, been there to make fun.

“i’m sick of the two of you. oscar, mate, be a man and kiss her for real.” he’d said, laughing as the two of you somehow turned an even deeper shade of red and looked in opposite directions.

“shut up, lando, for fuck’s sake.” oscar grumbled, punching him in the shoulder a little harder than normal.

“ah,” lando had just laughed harder before setting his sights on you. “if he doesn’t grow a pair it’s gonna have to be you.”

“die,” you told him, not being dramatic about it at all.

“i love you guys too. but not as much as you love each other!” he called before being chased out of the room by oscar’s balaclava and your empty water bottle hurtling towards him.

neither of you could endure lando’s teasing sober, especially not oscar, who spent way more time with him. but here he is, so many shots in that he’s lost count, and you on his lap. he’s going to run with it for as long as possible.

the bartender brings over the shots you ordered, and you pick up both.

“don’t cut me off now, i’m almost drunk enough to ask you to come home with me,” oscar says, lips brushing your neck.

he smiles when he feels you shiver, dragging his hand a little further up your thigh. “save it for when we’re sober,” you giggle as his fingers play with the bottom of your shorts.

“i’m not brave enough to say this stuff to you when i’m sober,” he confesses with a sigh.

“you should be. you know i’ll say yes.” you down a shot, and then hold up the other. “you want this?”

he nods. clearly there’s some magic in the shots that finally allows him to be forward with you.

you lift yourself up, much to his dismay, but he relaxes when you simply turn to face him and straddle his hips. “come and get it, then,” you say with a playful smirk, before tipping back the shot and looking at him expectantly.

you don’t swallow. oscar feels like he’s about to explode. he doesn’t waste any time in leaning forward and firmly pressing his lips to yours, knowing that he would never be daring enough to do this sober, as much as he always wants to. your fingers slide into his hair, carding through the long strands like you’ve done it a thousand times. his hands find purchase on your back, pulling you forward, before they slide down to your hips and squeeze. your mouth opens in surprise, but he’s expecting it and opens his mouth as well, allowing the alcohol to pass from yours to his.

you part from each other for a moment, and oscar barely even registers the harsh burn of the alcohol when he swallows, too intent on kissing you until he can’t breathe.

“oscar,” you moan out against his lips, and fuck, you sound so hot that he can only moan back at you, hands traveling down to your ass and grasping it firmly.

you’re pressed so close to him that he can hear the hitch in your breathing when he does so. he moves his attention to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, wanting to know what places draw out those beautiful sounds from your mouth.

“oscar,” you say again, sounding more insistent, and he reluctantly lets you pull away. “not here.”

you giggle when his eyes light up. “but somewhere else?”

“somewhere else, when we’re sober.”

oscar pouts. “i don’t know if i can do this when i’m sober.”

“then i guess it’s gonna have to be me,” you echo lando’s words from last month with raised brows.

“lando can kiss my ass,” oscar says with a newfound determination. “i will do this when i’m sober.”

you grin. “that’s what I’m hoping for.”

note: the beginning of this was actually written for a fun little passion project of mine and i wanted to turn it into something a bit more. i hope u all enjoyed!

since this is being posted on march 12 it is important for me to say that this is most specially dedicated to @venusacrossthestars. my entire op81 week event is, but three years ago on this day, we met through a discord server, and i am so grateful to still know you today and call you my best friend. i love you bestie <3

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld @nessacarty1 @tswizzleismother @anythingforourmoonsy @meko-mt @solonelystill @tomriddleswhorecruxes @sammykiszkalover @landosgirl

#blurb #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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mindmelter · 5 months

Text

New Soldier Skin

Nick found it weird that the doctor was calling him again for a check up, he had done one early that month and they normally don't do twice a month. But he had no choice in the matter, he was just a soldier.

"I'm feeling perfectly fine doctor, there's no need for another check up, also I'm out of duty tomorrow"

"Nonsense, It's very important that we keep track of the health of our soldiers, now stand on the scale over there please. We just want to make sure that you are ready to return to your family, I bet you must be really excited right?"

"Yes I am, Doctor, It's been a long time, can't wait to see my wife and kids back at home" He said getting on the scale.

The doctor's friendly expression changed drastically once Nick was standing on the scale with his back to him, now the doctor had a blank and emotionless expression. The doctor walked to his laptop on his table and pressed a key.

"My wife can't wait to see me back at home, and the kids are really...huh?" The soldier looked down at his feet confused, he could feel the scale vibrating beneath his feet, he tried to take his feet off the scale but he couldn't, his feet were stuck to the scale like a magnetic force was pulling them down "That's weird, I can't pull my feet off the scale, doctor?"

"Thank you for your service, Nick" It was all the Doctor said before pressing another key on the laptop.

"What? What is..." Before Nick could finish, he felt a strong electric shock run up from his feet and spread to the rest of his body, he could feel every cell in his body being hit by the eletrical charge. His body became rigid and he grunted for a few seconds, but then the humming of the scale stopped and he fell to the floor completely hollowed out. His hollow head on the floor with smoke coming out of his orifices.

The Doctor looked unfrazed at the lifeless bodysuit on the floor, actually, he looked even bored with the whole event.

"You can come out now, your new skin is ready" The doctor said and then the door opened and a humanoid alien entered the room. The white humanoid alien was wearing a visibly worn out and torn open human skin, it was very damaged with holes and scratches, and was also missing half the face, under the skin it displayed the alien true form, a white gelatinous goo.

"It was a shame that your last human skin was damaged in battle, you're always so careless with your skins. The General was furious." Said the Doctor.

"I know, I will be more carefull this time" The Alien said looking at the skinsuit lying on the floor, suddenly his true white form started to melt, hollowing out his current damaged skin, his gelatinous form crawled on the floor in the direction of Nick's skin and started to enter through the holes in his head, mouth, eyes, nose, ears, soon the hollow body of Nick started to inflate and gain life, Nick's flat muscles started to get bigger to their full power. The alien was filling every part of Nick with It's slimy form, filling it like a balloon.

After a few seconds he stood up in his new human body, Nick's eyes were completely white with the gelatin alien body underneath, but they quickly started to turn into normal human eyes, now identical to Nick's eyes.

"Do you have any new assignments for me Doctor?"

"No, actually this was his last week of service before his break, you're going back to his family tomorrow"

"Are you serious? It's so boring to pretend to be a husband and a dad, You know I like the action, I want to go into combat!"

"Sorry, but I'm just following orders from the General." The Doctor said grabbing the deteriorated human skin from the floor and looking at it with a disgusted expression. "This was your fourth skin only this year" The doctor then threw the human suit inside a garbage chut on the wall, then he closed it "That's why we chose Nick to be your next skin. The General thinks it's better for you to spend some time out of combat. I know It's not fun to have to pretend to be our skins, but I guess it will be good for you to relax a little, besides you don't have to act exactly like Nick, you just have to not act too much out of character"

"Is being fucked by men too out of character for this hunky skin?" The soldier asked with a devious smile, looking at the doctor with hungry eyes.

"As long as his wife doesn't find out..." The doctor said dropping his pants to the floor, exposing the jockstrap he was wearing.

They both started to make out as Nick groped and squeezed the doctor's big package. Nick dropped to his knees and lowered the Doctor's jockstrap and was in awe to what he saw.

"Wow, your skin is so freaking hung!"

"He used this thing on a lot of women, but I didin't used it in a long time"

"Fill it up, I want to see how big it when completely filled"

The doctor member started to inflate like a modelling balloon in a fraction of seconds.

Nick then started to suck it while he jerked his own hard member. A few minutes later Nick was lying on the doctor's table with his burly legs up being roughly fucked by the doctor's thick cock.

"How is my health, doctor?" Asked Nick with a grin while having his hole stretched by the doctor's big member.

"You're fine... really fine. You are free to go to your new family. Just don't forget to smile and say sentimental words when you see them, like how much you missed them"

______________________

Monthly Report:

Doctor, I'm having a blast in Nick's skin, you were right, I needed a break from all the action, I can have as much action in here with a body like this, I lost count of how many guys fucked me already. Apart acting like a gay slut in the shadows, his wife and kids don't even suspect their beloved husband and daddy is just a skin now. I guess I'm doing a good job as Nick.

End of report.

#bodysuit

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deakyjoe · 1 year

Text

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her pronouns used, reader is implied British and given backstory)

Category: I still don’t know but it’s coming together

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you’re pleasantly surprised to run into your secret observer.

Warnings: flirting (Ghost and reader getting some action, they deserve it), mentions of war/death, talks of scars, alcohol consumption, Ghost being normal AND weird, the mask is off again, Ghost doing domestic things almost (socialisation in a pub), sexual references, family issues, reader’s friends are intense, British terminology/slang, swearing/cursing, dialogue heavy, minute Soap slander (I love him but couldn’t resist)

Word Count: 5.5k (longer than part 1)

A/N: After the love I got for part 1, I decided to continue so Simon is still my babygirl. Please remember that if Simon feels out of character, that’s the point of this story. It’s him when he’s not being Ghost but being forced to mix aspects of his life at home and his life at work - the work aspects being reader. Also he’s going out of his comfort zone to please the sergeant (you) because he likes you but just hasn’t really realised it yet. Not entirely sure I’m as pleased with this part as I was with the first but we’re posting anyway!

Part 1 available here.

Part 3 available here.

It took weeks before your friends finally managed to convince you to join them on a night out. You'd been putting it off for a number of reasons. One being that the thought of socialising in a crowded environment had you wanting to gouge your eyes out as you'd grown used to little to no company. Another being that you genuinely thought it'd be overwhelming and you might have a panic attack.

But after they'd assured you that they'd look after you and you could all leave if it got to be too much, you relented and organised a time and place with them. Just your local pub on a Wednesday night. You'd decided on a Wednesday as you hoped it wouldn't be too crowded and that your friends might need a pick-me-up in the middle of their work weeks. They agreed quickly with the idea.

And honestly it'd been nice for the most part. You'd arrived early, you swear active duty had made you so time efficient that you spent almost no time at all getting ready, and sat down at a table in the corner, out of sights of the most of the rest of the pub. The only thing in direct eye line was the bar itself which would come in handy when you needed to go up and order drinks.

Your friends all slowly arrived, none of them being too late, and gave you big greetings as they hadn't seen you in "forever" they claimed. You returned hugs and kisses and prepared yourself for a night of bombarding questions and retelling of war stories.

A couple of your girlfriends were bought drinks by guys at the bar and you watched on in amusement as they giggled about it together. They assured you that someone would probably buy you a drink if you asked but you waved them off saying you didn't care, which you didn't.

You listened intently as they all told you what was happening with their lives - work, significant others, kids, families, pets, parties, weddings, funerals, birthdays, anything and everything you could possibly imagine. A note of envy settled in your stomach at one point but it went away quickly when you told yourself you were being silly.

Telling them about your life was slightly more complicated. You had to skirt around some of the details of your job as it was classified and would probably horrify them if they knew what you truly did. You gushed about some of the amazing people you'd met and mentioned casually that you'd actually bumped into your lieutenant in the supermarket. They all absorbed it with wide eyes of wonder and amazement, each of them having at least one question to ask.

"So, wait, you can actually shoot a gun?"

"Does it bother you having to bunk with a bunch of blokes?"

“What’s said country like?”

"Are any of them fit?"

"Isn't it tiring?"

"How long until you go back?"

"Met anyone you fancy?"

"Hang on, you have to share a communal bathroom?"

Yes, it's alright, not really, they're okay, very, not sure, oh my god, yeah.

They never really seemed satisfied with your answers and always wanted you to elaborate. Which you did if possible.

Overall, it was nice. There was no sense of impending doom or a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole thing. You let your guard down just enough for once to attempt to have a good time. Which you did. You laughed, you chatted, you drank, it was good.

Until the bar tender came over with a drink that looked exactly like what you usually ordered.

And when he placed it in front of you, you wanted to throw up.

"Fella at the bar bought this for you."

This was it. The moment in the night that you looked forward to the least and the moment your friends had been encouraging the most. They insisted that you needed to "put yourself out there more" and “try to get laid at some point”. You were "too uptight" as they put it. Little did they know that you weren't really interested in a quick shag or even a relationship with anyone at the moment. And rejecting someone was always awful. Every time they asked why and having to explain that your job made romantic entanglements extremely hard made things awkward.

"Ooh, this is so exciting!" One of your friends squealed beside you, frantically searching the bar for the culprit. "Which one?"

“Blond one.”

Oh.

"Tall."

My.

"Scars on his face."

God.

Your eyes shot towards the bar and immediately landed on him. Of course he was already looking your way with his drink raised to you.

"Shit." You cursed, silently letting out a sigh of relief that it wasn't someone you'd have to reject but all the more anxious because it was him. A part of you was very excited to see him though.

"What is it? Do you know him?" Another friend asked you.

"He's my lieutenant. Fuck." You stood from your seat, grabbing the drink.

"The one from the shops?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a minute, guys. I'm just gonna go say hi." You explained, slowly making your way towards Ghost.

"Take your time!"

You hadn't seen your lieutenant since he'd gone over to your place for tea. It was a weird experience. Weirder than the shops. You'd had a couple cups of tea each, shared his packet of chocolate digestive biscuits, which he'd kindly offered to you, chatted a little more and then he'd left. You didn't exchange phone numbers or even offer to see each other again. He didn't because he probably didn't want to and you didn't because you thought he probably wouldn't want to. So you'd gone your separate ways and that was that.

As you got closer to him, you wished you hadn't had so much to drink. You weren't drunk but you weren’t sober either. Kind of just bordering the edges between being buzzed and tipsy.

"Simon."

He turned so his body was facing yours, his large frame consumed the stool he was sitting on. Intimidating and alluring all at once. "Sergeant."

"You really should start calling me by my name." You sighed, stopping to stand in front of him.

"I like calling you sergeant."

"And I liked calling you lieutenant." You shot back, taking a sip of your drink despite your head screaming at you not to.

"Bet you like calling me Simon more."

Your eyes widened at his statement. He wasn't wrong but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Thanks for the drink, by the way."

"It's no problem. Thought I owed you for the bourbon."

You hummed in agreement but said nothing.

"Friends of yours?" He nodded towards your table where all of them were watching the two of you interact intently.

"Uh, yeah. First night out since being home so..." You shrugged.

"Having fun?"

"I was." You regretted your words immediately, knowing that you’d been insensitive.

"Ruined it, did I?" He asked but it wasn't malicious.

"No. Just... unexpected."

He nodded. "So, which one's your boyfriend?"

You were surprised at the question. Last time he'd enquired about your personal life it hadn't gone so well.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back."

He blinked at you and said nothing so you rushed off to make tea, desperately trying to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

"That's presumptuous of you, lieutenant."

"Just making conversation with you, sergeant." The return of dropping rank had you tingling inside. Might have just been the alcohol though.

You huffed. "None of them."

"Girlfriend then?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Sorry soul you're torturing with your affection couldn't make it then? What a shame." His eyes narrowed, you presumed he was joking.

"I'll ignore that insult. I'm single." Setting your drink on the surface of the bar, you leant your hip against the side but not before taking a step closer to him.

"Lucky for the world then that you're not burdening anyone with yourself."

"Jesus, Simon." You laughed out of shock, struck with his bluntness.

"Had to be said."

"Huh, you really are a charmer." You flashed him a glimpse of your teeth in a small smile, brows raising on the last word of your sentence.

"I try my best.” Pause. “Why are you single?"

"Because my affection is a burden apparently." Repeating his own words back to him seemed better than explaining your depressing void of no romance in your life because of your job. But maybe he’d understand.

"I'm serious."

"Why do you care?"

Simon didn’t strike you as the kind of person who gave a shit about the love lives of people he worked with. So why did he seem so interested in yours?

He didn't answer straight away and when he did, it seemed rehearsed. "You're my sergeant, part of my team. It's my role to care."

"To make sure I stay alive. Not to inquire about my love life." You were properly frowning at him now.

Ghost raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry I asked."

With a sigh, you relented. "The job."

"Go on…"

"Makes it difficult. The job makes it difficult to date. Especially civilians." You added the last bit on with clenched teeth. It didn’t really matter. Civilians were not on your romantic radar.

"Would you want to date a civilian?"

He saw straight through you.

"No, not really."

"Hmm."

You wanted to avoid discussing the topic any further so asked a question to change the subject. "What're you drinking?"

"Scotch that Soap recommended."

"And?"

He swished the glass around, the ice clinking against the side. "Utter shite."

"Figures." You took a long look at his drink. “You drink it on the rocks.”

“Tastes better cold. Less shit.”

“That your second glass?”

"Monitoring my alcohol intake, sergeant?” He asked and you shook your head as he looked you up and down. “You gonna take a seat or just stand there all day?"

"I'm supposed to be going back to my friends." You gestured weakly over your shoulder with your thumb, kind of forgetting they’d still been there until that moment.

His eyes flickered between the table and you. "Think we both know that isn't happening any time soon."

You hated how he saw straight through you. "Do we?"

"We do. Take a seat, sergeant." He nodded towards the stool next to him.

You stood up straighter, making a point to look directly into his eyes. "I like being eye level with you."

His foot hooked around the back of your legs and tugged you closer to him. "Think you'll find that I've still got a couple inches on you."

Your skin flushed hot, he was so close to you. You reached out and tapped his chest a couple times before realising what you were doing and removed your hand. "Think you'll find that you've had a bit too much to drink, sir."

"Simon. Thought we'd established that you can call me Simon." He leant back a little bit, relaxing in his seat. “And thought we agreed that you weren’t monitoring my alcohol intake.”

"Sorry." You squeaked.

"Sorry who?"

With a smile, you looked up at him through your lashes. You already knew what you were going to say. "Sorry... Lieutenant Riley."

He smiled. Actually smiled. It was small but it was unmistakable. "Brat."

He was beautiful when he smiled. He was always beautiful but when Simon Riley smiled… he was radiant.

You lit up at the smile but glowered at the insult. "Simon!"

"It's true." He shrugged, taking another mouthful of his drink and wincing at the taste.

"I'm stubborn. Not a brat."

"Believe me, I know you're stubborn. You've almost died like twelve times because you're stubborn. Had to save you every time." He shook his head as if it were a grievance to him.

"Could've left me behind."

"Couldn't do that. I'm your lieutenant, remember? My role is to keep you alive."

"I'm sure Price would let it slide if you had good enough reason." You thought about your Captain and wondered if he'd let you die for a good enough cause. Probably. But you held no resentment towards that fact.

Simon's head tilted to the side as he watched you think. "Don't think he'd accept brat as a reason, hm?"

You raised a finger to correct him. "Stubborn. Not a brat."

"Definitely a brat."

"Stop calling me that." You whined.

"That was the brattiest thing you've ever said. In the brattiest voice." He glared down at you. "You whined."

"You're such a dickhead, Simon." You scoffed but it was clear you were holding back a smile.

"And you're a brat. Guess we're even."

"Okay, I'm going back to my friends. To get away from this targeted attack." You paused. "Unless you want to join."

"I'll pass."

"I guessed. Do you have any friends? Maybe you could use the socialisation." You offered, wondering whether the man ever spoke to anyone when he was home or if he completely isolated himself from the rest of the world.

"Don't have friends for a reason."

That answered that for you.

"And what's that?"

"Ask too many personal questions."

He had a valid point. People did ask too many personal questions and you could understand why someone like Simon wouldn't like that.

"They wouldn't. My friends. They know we tend to be... private."

"You're a sergeant and I'm a lieutenant. Neither of us are privates." He paused to let the joke settle in. "A little army humour."

"I got it. That was good." You beamed at him, eyes crinkling in the corners at his quip.

"How much do they know of what we do?" He nodded in the direction of your friends.

You thought it over for a moment. "Very little. They know more about my teammates than anything else. Even that is limited."

He stiffened at that. "What do they know of me?"

"My quiet lieutenant with no face. Until recently." You let your eyes roam his features, taking all of him in. He was remarkable to look at really. But you'd never voice that to him.

"Hmm."

"There's more but I won't divulge with you." It was a partial joke to mess with him a little. There was some truth behind it however. You may or may not have gushed about your lieutenant to your friends. But that was nothing really. Just friendly appreciation for the man who outranked you.

"That makes me nervous."

Playing with him was too easy and too fun. "You should be."

"I'm reconsidering sitting with you and your friends now." He frowned but wasn't completely serious.

That surprised you. "You were going to?"

"Maybe." He drank more of the Scotch and trembled. "Christ, this stuff is fucking disgusting."

"Order a bourbon, something you know you actually like." You sighed. "Please do. If they're too much we can leave."

"We?" He was always questioning we.

You rolled your eyes at him. "It's always we. Teammates, y'know?"

A level of unsureness settled over his face. "I know."

"Get used to a lot of we then."

"Don't plan on seeing you again after this." The admittance stung but you weren't going to let that stop you.

"I'm sure you thought that last time as well. But here we are. Are you stalking me?" There was a hint of genuineness in the question. There was no way this second chance encounter was pure coincidence.

He shook his head, waving the bar tender over and ordering a bourbon like you'd suggested. "You're too boring for that."

"You have such a way with words. Really know how to make a lady feel special." You said dryly.

"It's a gift." He scratched at the side of his nose, absentmindedly trailing a finger over one of his scars in the process.

"They wouldn't say anything, y'know? Or stare. If you're worried about that. I've come home with my fair share of scars over the years. They understand." You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side to show off an old bullet wound that had scarred over on your collar bone.

Simon's eyes lingered on the mark on your skin but you couldn't quite read his expression. "People always stare."

"I don't."

"No, you don't." He hesitated. "Okay then."

"Wait, really?" You perked up.

"Yes, really. Quickly. Before I change my mind, sergeant." He rose from his seat, grabbing his drink and gesturing for you to go first.

You gazed up at him. It really was easy to forget just how big he was. "Quick question first?"

He didn't seem keen. "Go ahead."

"How long were you here watching me before you sent the drink over?" You really needed to know, to see how out of it you were.

"Not long." Lie.

Your brow furrowed. "How long, Simon?"

"About forty minutes."

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect it to have been that long. "Fort- Jesus. And I didn't notice you?"

He brushed you off with a small shrug. "You were having fun. Guard was down."

"Still."

"Don't dwell on it. I was just going to leave and not let you know I was here." His eyes moved away from you, the opposite side of his eye contact problem showing.

You ducked to the side to meet his gaze again. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged again.

You offered him a small slip of affection, just the tiniest thing. "I'm glad you didn't."

He grunted in reply, which was more than you were expecting. So, you just gestured for him to follow you towards the table of your friends where you stopped short a couple feet away. You sent a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure that Simon was still, in fact, there and hadn't pulled a Ghost and disappeared. But he was still standing there watching you when you checked. Which meant it was time for introductions... which you sucked at.

"Everybody, this is Simon. My lieutenant. Simon this is... everybody." You frowned at the crowded table in front of you. "You'll pick up names. It's alright that he joins us, yeah?"

“Of course.”

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god, yes."

"Take a seat, mate."

"Where you from, Simon?"

"Manchester."

"Ugh, he's a Manc! Moving on!"

You laughed as you squeezed into the booth with Simon next to you, trying not to touch him too much. "What did I miss? What are we talking about?"

"My husband is cheating on me." One of your friends announced dramatically.

Your eyes widened at the confession. "What? Really?"

"I suspect he is." She pouted, slumping forward onto the table.

"As if. He worships the ground you walk on. As he should. What makes you think he's cheating?" You debated whether this was a good topic to be talking about with your lieutenant sat right there. But then you figured that Simon needed some friends. And what was a better way to make friends than through some old-fashioned gossip?

"Late nights as work. Going to the gym a lot. He's not getting any fitter either."

You winced. "Ah, well that is quite damning."

"Yeah. I'm trying to build up the courage to just ask him about it."

"Yeah, confront him. If he's cheating then come to me. I know how to use a gun and hide a body." You winked at her.

"Sergeant." Simon's warning tone came from beside you.

"I'm kidding, lieutenant." You looked to your friend again and mouthed. "I'm not."

Another one of your friends spoke up, leaning on the table on his elbows. "God, you guys are so formal. Even during leave."

"We don't have to be. He refuses to call me anything other than sergeant. I think it's because he secretly doesn't know my name." You nudged Simon with your elbow and then, realising what you'd done, pulled back quickly. Maybe taking a break from the drink would be a good idea for a while.

"Not true." Ghost shook his head slowly.

"So you claim. Yet you've yet to refer to me as anything other than sergeant."

"It's fun watching you squirm thinking you have to be on your best behaviour all the time." He sent you a sly smirk, his eyes squinting just the tiniest bit.

Your jaw dropped. "I'm asking Price to reassign me. This is bullying."

"Wouldn't let Price do it." He countered, leaning in dangerously close.

"Who's Price?"

The both of you pulled back at the question and answered simultaneously. "Captain."

"Ah, okay. The one with the mutton chops, right?" One friend offered.

You nodded. "Right."

Simon huffed. "That's what you told them about Price?"

"It's his best feature."

"Christ, woman." He groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Ooh, woman's a new one."

A friend volunteered in your defence. "To be fair, she's not allowed to tell us much. She usually gives us one identifying feature of every person she tells us about. So we can keep up."

"I'm assuming Soap is the fact that he's Scottish."

"Scottish with Mohawk. He gets two."

"What's Gaz?"

"Baby of the team."

"Fitting. Me?"

You stayed silent.

"What is it?"

You shook your head. "Can't say. Classified."

"Sergeant." His voice was harsh, demanding.

But you weren’t going to give in. "Lieutenant."

"I won't be insulted." His voice dropped to its familiar bored tone, as if trying to force the idea that it wouldn’t bother him.

That’s not what concerned you however. "Don't think you would be."

"Then why can't you tell me?”

"Just can't." Stellar reasoning, well done.

"I could ask them." He tilted his head in the direction of your friends, who were all watching you completely enraptured.

You didn’t back down, stare hardening at him. "Go ahead."

"Fine." He turned to the table. "What's my identifying feature?"

There was a moment of silence before someone gave in and admitted it. Traitors. "You don't have one."

There was a split second of delay before he replied. "She doesn't talk about me then?"

"Quite the opposite actually." One of your friends giggled.

Another stepped in. "Talks about you sooo much that you don't need an identifying feature. Just know who her lieutenant is."

"Besides, apparently you usually wear a mask. You have no features."

A raised finger of a counterpoint. "Arguably, the mask is the feature."

Ghost turned to you, almost smug. "You talk about me, sergeant?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Simon. You're good at what you do. I can appreciate that." You sniffed, rolling your shoulders back to force yourself to relax.

"Out loud? With your friends?"

You shot him an irritated look. "Get over yourself."

"Didn't say anything."

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "I know what you're thinking."

"I'm sure you do." He exhaled deeply, glancing away from you towards his drink.

Your own gaze moved back towards everyone else around the table. "Moving on! What else is happening with you guys?"

"Saw your parents a couple days ago. They said they didn't know you were home."

Well, that wasn’t the jollier topic you hoped to move on to.

A fake smile automatically set itself on your face at the mention of your family. "Fuck. What did you say?"

"Lied for you and said you only just got back. Might want to call them."

"I will do that. At some point.” Lie, lie, lie.

"Mhm, your sister had another baby as well. That's what? The fourth niece or nephew you haven't met?" There was a note of condescension in your friend’s voice.

You shrugged, knowing you had a decent enough reason. If your job counted as decent. "I've been busy. And it's only the second."

"We're not judging. Your parents might be though."

"Well, that's lovely to know." You slouched down in your seat. The relationship with your parents was… touchy, to say the least. Desperately seeking their approval for years had left the bond with them strained. And you being away from home so often definitely hadn’t helped the rockiness of it all.

"Also they seem convinced that you've met a military man and are going to come home engaged or married..."

Your face scrunched in disgust. "Oh, ew. What the fuck?"

Simon elbowed you harshly in the ribs. "We're not that bad."

"Share a bunk with Soap and come back to me on that." You snapped back. Your fellow sergeant was a snorer who regularly farted in his sleep. He was like your brother but man did you hate having to sleep in close proximity to him.

"Fair point.” He grumbled back to you. “But why are they under that impression?"

"They know I don't date civilians."

"Or anyone." One of your friends mumbled in her drink.

"Thank you.” You sent her a sarcastic smile. “So they think I'm after a man in uniform."

"Aren't you?" The same friend asked.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw. "In... theory."

"Not in practice though." She carried on, loving the way you were squirming.

"We know not in practice, okay? Doesn't need to be said aloud.” You spared a glance at the man beside you before adding a harsh whisper. “Especially in front of my lieutenant."

"I'm sure Simon is loving this."

"It comes with the job. Family troubles and no love life." He offered some of your words back to you from earlier, shrugging. You were glad of the support from him, even if it was only your own thoughts.

"You got any friends for her Simon? Anyone on the team you think she'd be good with?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not good enough for her."

Wait, what? Not good enough? For you? Since when did he have such a high opinion of you?

A friend of yours cooed. "That's sweet. If it helps, she's great in the sack."

You choked on the mouthful of drink you were taking, slamming your glass back down. "And how exactly would you know that?!"

"I shared a house with you in uni, babes. I remember all those guys coming out of your room with dazed smiles looking as if they'd just had the time of their life." She grinned at you slyly.

Eyes wide. Jaw dropped. Heart racing. "Oh, my god. Please shut up."

"You asked."

"I didn't need such a detailed answer!” You were ignored.

"Although you may be quite rusty at the moment. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You covered your face with your hands. "For the love of everything that is good in this world, please be quiet."

"I'm just saying. We're all friends here, aren't we?" She laughed, mainly gesturing towards your higher up.

"He's my lieutenant!"

"Wait, Simon, are you single?"

You cut in before it could go any further. "Nope! Okay! So... sister? Baby. Parents? Delusional. What else?"

Everyone around the table chuckled at your reaction but moved on anyway, much to your relief.

"They're hoping you’re home for Christmas this year."

Your hand tightened around your drink. "I hope I'm not."

"Thought you'd say that."

Paying little attention to what your friend actually said, you mumbled to yourself. "That's fucking ridiculous of them. What the actual fuck?"

"We said the same." Mumbled loud enough for them to overhear apparently.

Simon looked confused. "What's the issue there?"

You failed to answer so someone else did for you. "They uninvited her to Christmas three years ago. Hasn't been back since."

"Why would they do that?"

"Didn't approve of her lifestyle."

He turned to you. "Your... lifestyle?"

"Murderer daughter." You bit back, bitterly.

His body tightened with tension. "You're not a murderer."

"Tell them that." You snorted. "Why do they want me home now?"

"Beats us.” Your friends said in weird unison.

"Wish they'd make their mind up over whether they want to disown me or not. It's exhausting trying to keep up."

The table laughed at that. Simon did not. But did he laugh at anything?

“I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” He looked down at you, pointing vaguely at your almost empty glass.

“Uhh… sure. Thanks.” You smiled at him, which he obviously didn’t return. After briefly asking everyone else if they wanted anything, which they declined, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Once he was a few paces away, one of your friends practically launched herself halfway across the table and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "He's gorgeous, babes."

You decided to play coy. "You think?"

"You don't?" Her brow was raised in disbelieving accusation.

The coy act was dropped pretty quickly. "Oh, I know he is. Just didn't think you would."

"Well, I do. And he’s definitely your type, absolutely perfect for you. Plus he so likes you."

You scoffed. "No, he doesn't."

"He fancies the pants off of you!" She insisted.

You didn’t buy it. "I can guarantee that he does not."

"He can't take his eyes off you!"

"He has a staring problem." You shrugged, it was true.

"Yeah, the problem is that he can't stop staring at you."

You thought about it. Yeah, he stared at you a lot. But he stared at everything. Didn't mean he stared at you with... feelings or whatever your friends were implying. Just that he had a staring problem.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley does not like me." It was a finalised statement, one that you believed wholeheartedly.

"Open your eyes, babes. He likes you."

"Do you like him?"

Avoid answering. "Not allowed to like him. He's my lieutenant."

"That doesn't answer our question."

Shit.

"Maybe a little." You pinched your fingers together, there was no point lying to them, and shook your head. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"Why?"

"Because, say he did like me, he'd never admit it. And I'm not going to push him into anything. I'm just glad he's talking to me and accepting my attempt at us being friends." That was true. You were loving how he wasn’t completely rejecting your friendship. He maybe wasn’t embracing it but he wasn’t pushing you away either.

"That's so sad, babes."

"Cheers.” You deadpanned. “It can't happen anyway."

"Why not?"

"Relationships aren't allowed. Makes us a liability. My captain would reassign one of us as soon as he caught wind of it. And it would be me." The thought of Price reassigning you was horrid. You loved your team more than anything.

"Simon said he wouldn't let your captain reassign you."

That was true, he did. "He was joking... I think."

"I don't think he was. That man stares at you like he's ready to eat you. It's like listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen in real life!"

Groan. "You watched Dirty Dancing again, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that Simon looks at you with hungry eyes. And don't judge my love for Dirty Dancing." Two of your friends nodded in agreement with her.

"I'm not. I'm judging your favourite song choice when Love Is Strange by Mickey and Sylvia is clearly the superior song on the soundtrack." You said as you downed the last bit of your drink, thankful Simon was bringing you another one. Your mouth was dry and the initial buzz was wearing off. You’d need more alcohol if this interrogation was going to continue despite it probably not being the best idea.

"Blasphemy!” She declared before quietening herself. “Oop, we gotta be quiet now because he's coming back over. Simon!"

He froze in his tracks, a glass clasped in each large hand. "Yes?"

"Can you settle a debate for us?"

You froze too, wide-eyed. They weren't going to ask about him staring at you, were they?

"Sure...?"

You smiled at his unsure tone. Big, scary man who got shot at for a living was terrified of answering a little question.

"You've seen Dirty Dancing, yeah?"

You relaxed.

"I have."

Surprising.

"Which is a better song? Hungry Eyes or Love Is Strange?"

"Oh, I... uh-"

"Leave the poor man alone." You laughed despite being a little curious about his music taste.

"I always liked She's Like the Wind."

That shocked you to your core. "Patrick Swayze fan?"

"Used to have a mullet just like his." He placed your drink in front of you. "Here you go. You look surprised."

"I always am when you don't disappear. And when you admit to being a Patrick Swayze fan." You snorted, taking the drink from him.

"Learn to have a little faith, Sarge." He sighed as he sat down next to you again, an inch closer than before you were sure.

A burning feeling settled in your chest at the nickname. Sure, it was only a shortened version of your rank, and a common one at that, but it was something. Not sergeant. Not woman. Sarge. You decided to let it slide to see if he’d ever do it again of his own accord.

"Your name's Ghost for a reason." You sing-songed, the image of his mask flashing through your mind.

"I'll give you that. But remember, Simon here."

"Still weird."

"Still Simon."

You chewed the inside of your bottom lip before asking your next question. "Patrick Swayze?"

"He was blond."

"Like you, you mean?"

Hesitation. "Yeah."

You hummed and thought about him with a mullet. What an odd thing to admit to you. But you’d never complain. If Simon was willing to offer you little tidbits of silly information about himself, then you were going to absorb every single one and treasure them forever.

A/N: Simon with a mullet as a teen because he wanted to be Patrick Swayze when he grew up is canon to me now.

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mcu-coworkers · 11 months

Text

Complete

Summary: Life for you and Miguel was greener on the other side.

Word count:2.5k+

Warnings: slight child birth complications, pregnancy. Other than that nothing much.

A/n: This is pt.3 to “Where Do Broken Hearts Go?” I wanted to give you guys something to read while I work on Pt.3 to “You?” so I hope you guys enjoy the third and final bit of this story, see you guys soon!xx

Tag list: @marcswife21 @greeknerd007

Parts: I II III^

CREDITS TO THE OWNER^

It had been months since you’re little get away with Miguel, 7 to be exact and six since you found out you were pregnant.

And 3 since you found out it was a boy.

You’ll never forget the day you found out.

Miguel had come home early from HQ to take you to a surprise dinner date, he’d been thinking about it all day.

He found it a little weird you didn't come to the entrance when he opened the door like you usually did.

“Amor, Ya llegue.” He yelled out walking into the house.

Still no response.

“Lyla checks for heat signatures.” he said as he began looking into the rooms.

You didn't mention going anywhere and last he checked you were home.

“Low heat signatures detected on the…the bathroom floor.” she said, realization hitting them both.

Miguel made record time running upstairs and into the bathroom where he found you on the floor.

“Ay mi amor. Lyla check her vitals.” he said, picking you up and laying you on the bed.

Lyla began doing a scan on your body when she found something strange halfway through.

“Um Miguel, there's uh..” she paused, not sure how to say it.

“A what Lyla what's wrong with my wife?” he asked, getting annoyed.

“A baby.” she blurted.

Miguel froze.

Suddenly you began to stir, eventually opening your eyes.

“Miguel? Honey- oh ow..” you said rubbing your head.

Sitting up in bed you start taking in your surroundings, a bunch of holograms that all look like a big blur.

You looked back at Miguel who had what probably is the biggest smile on his face that you could have ever seen.

“Mi hermosa luz, eres mi todo. (my beautiful light, you are my everything.)” he said, taking your face in his hands.

Confused but delighted by the compliment you rubbed his arm, “Gracias mi vida?”

“We're having a baby.” he said, finally deciding to fill you in.

Gasping in shock you looked at Lyla who confirmed that statement by showing you a sonogram of a little bean in your belly.

Miguel laughed at your reaction and pulled you in for a hug.

Finally, he thought.

His world was complete and all thanks to his beautiful wife.

“Thank you.” he said as he kissed all over your face.

“It takes two to tango O’hara don’t forget to thank your biggest asset.” you said giggling, you could feel him smiling as he continued to kiss down your neck.

Ever since that day Miguel made it a priority to have yours and the baby’s checked frequently.

Very frequently actually he just wanted to make sure all was well the Miguel O’Hara way.

At 4 months you began to feel cramping sensations so the doctor recommended indefinite bed rest and that devastated you because Miguel was finally taking you to the Spider Society to meet everyone but with this news there was no chance.

Two months later you feel yourself at your best and hoping the doctor sees that too.

“Are you ready mi amor?” Miguel said, peeking his head into the kitchen.

“Yep. I hope the bed rest order gets lifted or I actually think I ‘ll go insane Miguel.” you said slightly waddling over to him.

Your bump was getting bigger and walking like a normal person was getting harder.

Giving him a peck on the lips he followed you out the door smiling at your little walk.

-----

One more month.

He made you do one more month of bed rest before granting you freedom.

As soon as you heard those god sent words you were ready to get out of that hospital and go for a nice long walk.

….At the spider society.

Not to mention that throughout your entire pregnancy your attraction to Miguel only grew stronger.

Just the thought of feeling him inside you again would have made you cum on the spot.

The doctor said sex was normal but the closer to the due date the less like bunnies and more like turtles.

Whatever it was you’d take it.

You wasted no time as soon as you got home.

“Amor?” you called out.

“Yes?” he said as he went into the kitchen to grab a drink.

“ I need you.” you said bluntly, beginning to take off your maternity clothes.

“Is everything okay? ¿Te sientes mal? Que pa- oh.” he said as he stood in the entrance of the living room.

“ I need you.” you said one more time walking over to him slowly, grabbing his hand and bringing it down to your hot core already dripping for him.

“Baby- fuck.” he said trying to refrain from going back to his rough ways.

Turtles, turtles, turtles he thought to himself as he laid you down and gave you everything you wanted.

After a night that was much needed you laid together on the couch as he rubbed on your belly.

“Miguel?” you said tracing patterns on his bicep.

“Hmm?” he hummed in response, eyes feeling droopy.

“Can we go to spider society? I wanna meet everyone, please?” you asked sweetness dripping from your voice hoping it would work.

“Whatever you want Princessa, it's yours.” he said pulling you in closer and dozing off into a deep sleep.

Smiling to yourself you fell asleep content, and impatient to get to HQ.

----

To be completely honest, Miguel was halfway to dreamland when you asked him about going to HQ.

So when you reminded him in the morning and asked what day he’d be taking you it practically caught him off guard.

“ I said what?”

“Ay Miguel, aren't you the attentive one? You said you’d take me to HQ this week.” you said, serving him his breakfast with a bright smile.

Cursing himself for slipping up he looked up at you and smiled.

“Friday mi amor, I will take you on friday.” he said, earning an excited squeal from you and you waddling over to kiss him on the cheek and rant about all the things you wanted to see.

----

Friday couldn't have come any sooner for you but for Miguel it could have.

Once he told the team about your upcoming arrival they were just as over the moon as you were.

Jess and Peter B. were planning a surprise baby shower after hearing you elected to not have one given how tired you were and Miguel's persistence of you getting rest only solidified that decision even more.

The real kicker was that not even Miguel knew about the surprise so decorating and planning had to be swift and silent.

But at last, it was friday and you had picked your prettiest sundress and waited patiently for Miguel to come get you.

While you waited you thought about the weeks you had left with your little guy, the time was getting closer and you for one couldn't wait to have him in your arms.

Miguel walked through the portal just outside the living room and walked into a sight that made his heart skip a beat.

“Funny, I told Lyla to send me home but I think she ended up sending me to heaven.” he said as he leaned down to kiss you on the lips whilst rubbing on your belly, making you smile.

“Hi baby, let's get going, I don't wanna keep anyone waiting.” you said extending your arms so he’d help you up.

Nodding in silence he reopened the portal and let you go first.

Walking in he made sure to stay close to you and explain a couple of things.

“If you or the bay get too overwhelmed just tell me and we’ll go strai-” beore he could finish that a very excited Peter B. was coming down the hall.

“Is that who I think it is? My god she is Beautiful Miguel. Hi, I'm Peter B. this is May Day. I'm the only spiderman with a kid.” he said pulling you in for a hug.

“For now.” Miguel said, smiling down at you.

“It’s nice to finally meet one of my husband's best friends, not to mention this cute little thing. May I ?”you asked, reaching out.

“You do not have to ask,” he said, handing a smiley May Day over. “Do you wanna see the pictures I took of her? You are absolutely going to flip.” he said, pulling out his phone.

“Oh I‘d love to.” you said taking her from him as Miguel tried to interject.

“Amor, maybe you shouldn't hold a baby-” he tried gently following you closely.

“Corazon it's fine! Look at her, she's a feather.” you said cuddling your face with hers.

“Wow, Never thought I‘d see the day someone told my buddy Miguel no.” Peter B. said, mesmerized by your being.

“Keep walking Parker.” Miguel said, and there he was.

Eventually Peter B. was able to lead you to the room where the shower was and the surprise was overwhelming to say the least.

Miguel would have ripped out a couple of throats had the act upset you but you were over the moon especially after meeting Jess.

After making sure you were okay Miguel allowed himself to relax and enjoy watching everyone meet the love of his life and adore her almost as much as he did.

No one would ever love you as much as he did. Not even close.

After hours of talking and laughing Miguel decided it was finally time to go home.

“Alright this was fun but we should get going, you need to rest.” he said putting his hand on your lower back.

He was right you were a bit tired but there was still so much to learn, “Pero amor Im still getting to know everyone! Where is LEGO Peter, your best man?Is that plush spidey?” you asked looking around you could swear you just saw someone holding a plush spidey.

“ I know I know but we can come back another time, Ya lets go.” he said urging you on.

“Okay fine,” you said, turning to say your goodbyes while he opened the portal.

“Oh oof hold on.” you said clutching your belly whilst holding on to Gwens arm.

“Everything okay momma?” she asked as Miguel ran over.

“Yeah it's just a braxton kick, give a second im alright.” you said taking deep breaths trying to reassure Miguel.

And just as you were about to stand straight your water broke.

“Oh my-” you heard Peter B. say while everyone else's eyes just widened.

“Shit. Alright come on we gotta go.” Miguel said, picking you up swiftly.

“Miguel you can’t take her in this state, It could hurt the baby we need to get her to the infirmary now.” Lyla said, appearing over his shoulder.

That statement only angered Miguel.

This isn't where he wanted to be when his son was born but now he had no choice.

Running you up to the infirmary he laid you down on the bed as Lyla plugged in your vitals.

“This is actually happening.” you said taking in the moment. You were about to give birth to your baby boy at the Spider HQ.

“It's okay baby, just take deep breaths.” he said as he kissed the top of your head.

You really thought you were hallucinating it when a spider doctor walked in the room to help you deliver your baby.

Nope this was entirely real, Miguel was holding your hand looking at the doctor with a look that could kill.

Which probably would if he risked anyone's health.

Two hours is what it took for you to fully dilate and thirty minutes is what it took for you to bring him to the world.

Lucca Gabriel O’Hara.

He was perfect.

Miguel didn't want to let him go at first but the nurses needed to check him and make sure everything was alright.

It was more than alright, it was perfect. Ten toes, ten fingers, and one cute little face that you already loved so much with all your being.

Your body felt overly exhausted but you wanted nothing more than to hold your baby.

While you did just that Miguel admired the scene before him. Nothing would ever top this moment.

“Mr.O’Hara a word?” the spider doctor asked to pull him out of the room.

“Everything alright?” he said, feeling a weight in his chest.

“Well yes and no, because your DNA was morphed to be 50% human and 50% spider the baby took a lot from your wife in its time in her stomach,” he paused hoping Miguel was catching on.

“We’d like to keep them here to ensure her body doesn't go into shock from his departure, and give you guys an idea of just how this baby will be growing all things considered.” he finished as Miguel looked back at you and Lucca.

“Alright, how long?” he asked hoping it wasn't long at all.

“Two weeks, one to analyze initial growth, and a second to compare data. Their health will come first of course.” he said reassuring Miguel.

“Fine but no guests until she allows it. And I‘ll tell her.” Miguel ordered as he walked back into the room.

Giving you a soft smile he told you the news and you couldn't have been more excited, it probably would have shown more if you weren't so tired.

“Miguel, will you take him? I'm pretty tired.” you whispered, Miguel realized the heart monitor was starting to slow down.

Taking the baby he rang for the doctor through his watch.

“Hold on baby don't close your eyes okay? Stay awake for me.” he asked, panic began setting in the further away the beats got.

“I'm just so tired Miguel, just need to close my eyes and…” you said letting your head fall to the side.

“Baby? Y/n! Lyla!” Miguel tried but it was no use you were out cold.

Just like that, the doctor and Lyla were present and at your side.

“Just like I said, her body is in shock. After giving so much energy to the baby the sudden loss was too much to handle.” he said as he injected you with something that brought your heart rate back to normal.

“So what? She needs what she gave him back?” Miguel asked, if he were calm he’d understand and probably take care of it himself but you were his wife.

He needed you to operate properly and right now his mind was nowhere near capable.

“Yep. These next couple of weeks will be a bit hard on her but she's a tough one, I ‘m sure she’ll be just fine.” the spider doctor assured.

And eventually, he proved to be right.

In all instances actually.

You turned out to be just fine, Lucca was a spider baby growing astronomically but still at the rate of a human baby, and you could finally go home after two weeks.walking out of that infirmary felt like a relief to Miguel.

As you said your goodbyes to all the spiders who gave you company when Miguel had to step away Miguel opened the portal home.

Walking through together you smiled as you stepped in your home again.

Your smile grew when you realized your home had been decorated with all kinds of spider decorations to welcome baby Lucca home.

“Welcome home baby.” Miguel whispered, kissing your cheek.

“It's good to be home papi.” you said, turning to give him a peck on the lips.

“So good.” Miguel replied, kissing you some more.

He felt whole again after so long, the feeling he longed for was back and he was never letting it leave again.

#spider-man 2099 #spiderman #miguel spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #Miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #marvel #MARVELLOVE #Marvel men #MARVEL WHY #Oscar Isaac

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togrowoldinv · 1 year

Text

Into the Flames

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When your house catches fire, you meet one very attractive firefighter

Warnings: Mention of house fire, smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral, fingering

Note: Firefighter Nat is back 🔥 She’s very sweet and very beefy. Enjoy! Remember to follow @togrowoldinvlibrary for fic updates!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

It’s everyone’s worst nightmare. Alarms beep loudly at you as you stir from your sleep. At first you assume it’s a gas warning, but then you see the smoke filling from the other from. You know it’s a fire.

Thinking back to fire safety you learned in elementary school, you grab your phone and carefully get low to the ground as you climb out the window. Luckily it’s only one floor and you get out safely.

From outside, you can see the flames engulfing the middle part of your home. Before you can even call 911, fire trucks are pulling onto your road. You deduce that one of your neighbors must’ve called them.

“Hello, I’m Captain Rogers. Is this your house, ma’am?” A man’s voice rings in your ears. You turn to see him and other firefighters around.

“Yes,” you say.

“Is there anyone in the house? People? Pets?” He follows up.

“No.” It’s a simple response, but it’s enough for the crew to finish setting up and the attacking the fire.

Captain Rogers calls out orders as the firefighters approach your home. Their attempts to put out the fire seem to be working.

It’s then that you remember that you didn’t grab the box of photos that mean everything to you. You don’t realize that you’re panicking about it until you feel a strong hand on your shoulder.

“Ma’am, are you okay? Ma’am?” A raspy woman’s voice helps you stand up a little straighter. You make eye contact with the woman and discover she’s beautiful. Her red hair burns brighter than the flames. “Hey, breathe with me.”

She instructs you to take deep breaths and your breathing becomes more normal.

“My photos are in there,” you tell her. “I don’t have any copies.”

She glances towards the house and back to you.

“Okay,” she begins. “Where are they?”

“In my bedroom, on my desk.”

You notice the way it looks like wheels are spinning in her head before she says, “I’ll get them for you.”

She releases your shoulder but you reach for her hand before she can walk away.

“Wait! I don’t even know your name,” you say.

She squeezes your hand and flashes you a smile.

“I’m Natasha. What’s yours?”

You tell her your name and she tries it out before she turns back to the house. She goes past the captain and he stops her.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“I need to go retrieve something for her,” the woman, Natasha, supplies.

“Stand down, no one else needs to go into the structure,” he commands her.

You watch as she looks to the house and makes a split second decision. She runs into the flames.

“Nat! That’s an order!” Captain Steve yells after her, but it’s not use. She’s made up her mind.

You watch on nervously as the woman you just met risks her life for you. It’s a few minutes before she emerges from the flames, but it looks like a scene out of a movie.

The flames burn behind her, but she doesn’t look back. She runs towards you and hands you the box of photos.

“Thank you, thank you,” you tell her with tears in your eyes.

She doesn’t speak but instead smiles before she is pulled away by another firefighter. You overhear their conversation.

“Nat! Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” A blonde woman chastises her.

Natasha coughs a little, but still stands up straight.

“I was doing my job, Danvers,” she says. She glances your way and knows it was worth it when she sees you holding the box tightly to your chest.

The rest of the night goes by in a flash. They get the fire out, but you won’t know the extinct of the damage for a few days. You call a friend and stay ask to stay with them for a while.

A few days later, you still can’t get your hero, Natasha, out of your mind. The sight of her running into and out of the burning house replaces your bad memory of waking up the flames.

“Earth to y/n,” your friend Wanda says. She waves a hand in front of your face.

“Oh, I’m sorry Wands.”

Wanda smirks. “Thinking about your firefighter hero again?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “I just wish I could thank her again.”

“Why don’t you make her brownies or something?” Wanda suggests. You’re not sure about her plan. “And then you can take them to the firehall. I’m sure people thank them like this all the time.”

“It’s not a bad idea I guess,” you say.

Wanda laughs and shakes her head. She knows you’ll do it because you want to see Natasha again.

After getting to work in the kitchen, you drive to the firehall. Your heart beats fast in your chest as you open the door. She’s sitting at the front desk.

If you thought Natasha was attractive before in her full firefighter gear, then seeing her now with a simple T-shirt and pants on is like another world. Her arm muscles are evident to you and in the light you can see her strong hands.

“Y/n?” Natasha asks you. She can’t help the smirk that comes onto her lips.

“Hi,” you say nervously. “I- um- I wanted to say thank you and I didn’t know how so I made brownies.”

You walk towards her and hand her the container. Her hand brushes yours as she accepts them.

“That’s very kind of you, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “I can think of more ways you could thank me.” Your brain short circuits at her words.

“Oh- I-“ you stumble over your words, but luckily are saved when her coworker comes into the room.

“Nat stop flirting and get back to the desk,” the woman says. You recognize her from that night.

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant,” Natasha’s voice drips with sarcasm.

Danvers takes the container from Nat and walks towards the other room. But not before one last statement.

“Desk duty was such an easy punishment, Romanoff. Don’t waste mine and Cap’s pleading with Chief Fury,” she says.

Natasha shakes her head and looks back to you.

“I’m sorry about that. I do have to get back to work, but maybe I can see you tomorrow night?” Natasha asks. Was she asking you out on a date? She must read your mind because her next words are, “Like as a date, if you want that.”

“Yes, that sounds nice,” you agree.

She hands you a card with her number on it and tells you to call her. Your hands shake as you accept it, and walk back to your car.

The next day comes quickly. You called Natasha as promised and her smooth voice on the other end of the line makes your heart threaten to explode in your chest.

When you meet her at the restaurant, she looks stunning in black pants and a leather jacket. It’s exactly the kind of outfit you expected her to wear.

At some point, she takes off her jacket and your eyes once again go to her strong arms and hands. You wonder what they would feel like against you.

The date ends way too soon and Natasha walks you up to your friend’s apartment door.

“Tonight was fun,” you say, turning around waste time by the door.

“It was,” she agrees. She steps closer to you and your back is pressed to the door.

Natasha’s hands come to rest softly against your face. Her touch is gentle, but you can feel the roughness of her skin from the physicality of her job.

“Can I kiss you?” She says quietly.

“Yes please,” you say. She chuckles at your cuteness and brushes her nose against yours.

Finally, she closes the space between the two of you. Her lips against yours feels like magic. Your knees go weak as your hands find her waist. She deepens the kiss, but pulls away before it goes too far.

“Goodnight y/n;” she says with a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight Natasha,” you say.

She makes sure you get inside okay and then she walks back to her motorcycle. You both can’t sleep as you think about how amazing the date was. And that kiss. Wow.

After a night of tossing and turning, you decide to text Natasha. It’s a simple good morning text, but she replies quickly. A few minutes later your phone rings.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Natasha’s voice sounds so good in the morning.

“Hey there, Natasha,” you greet her back.

It’s quiet for a moment.

“So, when can we see each other again?” You gain some confidence to ask her.

“Well, I work for the next few days,” Natasha says with an apologetic tone.

“Oh, okay. Maybe we can meet up after that?”

Nat is silent for a moment. “Or maybe you could come and see me here? We can order lunch.”

“That sounds great,” you say, trying your best to play it cool.

You get dressed and Wanda teases you as you leave to meet Natasha. You’re not entirely sure what the lunch date entails, but you’re hoping it’s more than just food.

When you enter the firehall, it’s Natasha sitting at the desk once again.

“Hey, beautiful,” she greets you with a hug. Her strong arms hold you tight.

“Hey Nat, you look nice,” you tell her. She’s wearing a tank top with the fire station’s logo on it.

“You’re cute,” she says. She turns to another firefighter. “Hey Parker, I’m going to lunch. Man the desk for me?”

He agrees and Nat takes your hand. She leads you to a room upstairs. Closing the door behind her, she pulls you in for a kiss. It’s different than last night. It’s rougher. It’s hungrier.

Her hands slip under your shirt and you thank goodness that she’s on the same wavelength as you are.

“Is this okay?” She asks before she goes any further.

“Please. Please Nat yes,” you say.

You stop breathing when she takes her own shirt off. Her abs are perfect.

“My eyes are up here,” she jokes before she drops to her knees. She unbuttons your jeans and pulls them and your underwear down your legs. “So wet for me.”

“Fuck Natasha,” you say as she starts to lick through your folds. Her tongue works expertly to bring you to your high in record time.

“So good for me,” she says as she kisses your inner thighs and cleans you up.

When she stands back up, you pull her into a searing kiss. She doesn’t hold back her strength as she pulls you closer.

You dip your hand into her pants and gather her wetness.

“Fuck,” she mumbles. You pull your hand out and she groans at the lack of contact. Quickly, you unbutton her pants and slip them down her legs. She’s wearing boxers and she looks so good in just them and her bra.

“Wow,” you comment. She smirks and pulls her boxers down to join her pants.

“No teasing,” she says in a no nonsense voice. You kneel in front of her.

“Oh yeah? And what if I do?” You test your luck.

Her hand comes to the back of your head and she pushes you into her core a little roughly, but you don’t mind.

You get to work licking her and taking her clit in your mouth. When she’s getting close, you decide to use your fingers to work in tandem.

“I’m gonna come,” Natasha says. Her head is falling back in pleasure.

You moan against her and she’s tipping over the edge. She comes hard against your tongue and fingers.

When you stand back up, she takes your hand and sucks your fingers that were just inside of her. She keeps eye contact as she does it and your brain goes fuzzy.

“We have to do that again sometime,” you say once she’s relented.

“Agreed. You ready for lunch or was that appetizing enough?” She asks with a chuckle.

“Natasha,” you grin at her cheekiness. She kisses your lips softly.

“Okay. Actual food and then round two?” She asks.

“I’m totally in,” you say.

You two share a smile and get dressed again. She takes your hand again and leads you to the kitchen.

Maybe something good came from the fire after all.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #firefighter!nat #firefighter natasha

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junkiespromise · 1 year

Text

superstar | ms47

request: can "superstar" be about mick? y/n is a very supportive girlfriend and she cheers for him and goes to every race but she's not famous, she's a "pretty normal" person compared to him, so his fans don't really understand what he sees in her?

summary: where two young kids fall in love but the world one of them is involved in seems to be against their happiness.

warnings: angst yeah and a bit of relationship doubts.

notes: the second story and first request of the eras masterlist is finally here! i hope ypu guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writting it, also it was my first social media au, and remember that requests are still opened!

masterlist

Mick’s life had always been filled with the thrilling sound of car engines and the adrenaline that comes with excessive speed. His father being probably the most famous Formula One driver in history was perhaps the reason why he was so interested and enamored by the sport, making him always wonder if his father was not who he was, would he even be this obsessed with it, or would he want to be a football player or a pianist.

So he made his way through the motorsport world, karts like any kid and then a formula three and two champion until he achieved the highest category and just like his father he became a Formula One driver but he realized that even now when he had finally achieved everything he had dreamed of, he felt, lonely.

Even when he stepped inside the most rapid vehicles in history, where he thought he would feel the most complete, his heart told him that something was missing, to make it alright, to put it all in place. He didn’t know what it was but his soul ached for it, he longed for a deeper connection, someone who would see him for who he truly was and understand his mind and soul.

So when he crossed paths with Y/N, one Sunday evening back home in Germany those lingering feelings disappeared, he knew she was the one.

Mick remembers the day they met as if it was yesterday, he remembered her clothes and could describe in a detailed way how her hair was wrapped in a hair band forming a low ponytail that rested on her shoulder.

He was wearing some long-sleeved shirt that was years old and a pair of dark blue jeans tightened with a belt that probably belonged to his father, considering the damaged black leather of it.

That cold evening he and his sister decided to go out for a coffee, and after an insisting chat with Gina, he decided to go. He was back home, finally, after a never stopping routine of constant travel he had some time for his own, and like every year he went to Germany, with his family. So that day they decided on a small café that not many people frequented.

Mick had asked for a cappuccino and Gina for a macchiato, his order was the first one they called but just as he was stepping towards the girl who was handing it to him, exactly like in a rom-com his sister made him watch, he felt a coldness hit his chest, in a second his white long-sleeved shirt was splashed in brown iced coffee.

A wave of apologies said by a sweet voice filled his ears and that was the moment he finally looked at the girl who had accidentally thrown her coffee onto his shirt.

—Don't worry too much, I'm lucky it was an iced one—He said, slightly chuckling, placing his hand on her wrists, stopping her from smudging it more. Now his mind wondered why she was even ordering it when outside you could see slight traces of snow.

Their eyes finally met, for the first time, before, she was too busy trying to get rid of the stain on his shirt to pay attention to the person she was cleaning it off of. Embarrassed by the situation with her cheeks flushed in a light pink that went all the way up to her ears she stopped for a moment the apologies.

They told each other their names and rapidly started talking, as if faith had brought them together and made them meet like that. In the back, Gina laughed at the poor flirting attempts of her brother who had also completely forgotten about their arranged siblings' coffee date.

And for months after that, they were friends, each too afraid to confess the feelings they had, until finally, one night, when he had traveled to her hometown as a surprise Mick tried to in the most rom-comish way he could, confess his feelings.

Afraid about not hearing an answer to his confession, all kinds of thoughts run through his mind, maybe he had read the signals wrongly and she just wanted to be friends.

But for his luck, the thoughts were interrupted by a pair of lips clinging onto his.

Now, months into their relationship he knew that she was that missing piece he had looked for all along. He raced in the fastest cars in the world yet he felt more adrenaline when he looked at her, his nervousness when he started a race did not compare to that of placing his eyes on hers. And his worries faded to nothing when he looked at her

But people started talking, they always did, and at first, not caring was so easy, in the end, a relationship with a superstar who has thousands of fans all around the world was hard for everyone who was in one, except that to Y/N, his fans seemed harsher on the critics.

They speculated about her motives, if it was for some quick fame or the money he could bring to your home or even the connections she could get and that after catching them she would rapidly leave him, both of them knew the truth, they loved each other and nothing could stop them from it but sometimes it felt like they could.

Mick knew he shouldn't doubt their relationship but he could not stop his mind from wandering if she truly loved him, he knew he loved her but what if it was not like that to her, what if they were right.

The doubts started to get to his head, the side comments, the replies to any post he made about her or she made about him, they, at a point, became to much, so the distancing started between them, slowly, but not slow enough for her to not notice.

yourusername

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yourusername half of my weekend dump !

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sarahluvs47 only here for the mick content like all of us.

formulaleclerc this the girl mick is dating, why? lol

wagsl0ver no one know really, he could

truly do much better

yourbestfriend you look so hot, how do you do it, stop

As the sun began to set in the Saudi Arabia grand prix circuit, everyone's faces filled with excitement, the voices high pitched with enthusiasm. She stood with her hands on the metal railings that separated the crowd from the track.

Although excitement filled the air, Y/N's heart ached. She loved Mick, so much, his love completed her, but people commented on it, on a love that was so pure it seemed almost indestructible, and for a moment she was so foolish she believed that, that their love would be forever, even with all the comments from the outside, their own little world would stay the same.

She knew, the second Mick had told her he was a driver, a formula one driver, that it would be hard to maintain a relationship with a superstar like him. But she was willing to try, even if it meant that the moment she stepped out into the world as Mick Schumacher's girlfriend, that her way of living would not be the same and that that quiet life she liked to have would not be possible, at least for the time they dated. And for him, she was willing to try.

Taking a deep breath in, she locked her phone, reading through the dozens of messages and comments people left her was exhausting and she did not understand the why of them, she hadn't done anything to anyone, she was aware of the ruthlessness of the internet but she had never experienced it first hand.

The comments had been recently getting to her head and she knew they had gotten to Mick's too. Lately he had been more distant, quieter also, and she didn't know what to do about it, talk would be the obvious thing but she avoided serious talks at all costs, she wasn't good at it and her eyes got all watery when she made eye contact with the one she was talking too. But, right now, it seemed like the only thing she could do, force him to chat with her.

…

The wheels on the car were barely been held together, after forty two laps with them and fifty seven laps total, the race was coming to an end and for the first time, Mick, was finally going to place his feet in the podium, second place, just milliseconds behind the blue car numbered "one".

Gina and Corinna sat by her side, the three of them on the verge of tears. The cameras pointed at their faces and then back at the race, she wouldn't celebrate yet, to her it was bad luck. Her heart accelerated at the same pace as the cars passing on the screen in front of her, one more lap and it was his.

The checkered flag appeared in the air, finally it had come to an end, the moment the car passed the checkered flag, the three women and the entire team got up, at the same time, screaming and hugging each other. Now they waited for him to arrive and congratulate him.

Her eyes placed on his, she knew that behind that helmet, a pair of blue eyes were staring back. She smiled when he finally ran towards his team to hug them, the flashing of cameras and screams filled her ears but as soon as he reached out for her and his arms wrapped around her, her head on his chest, his helmet still on, it felt as if they were the last people on earth, just them.

It was celebration day for Mick Schumacher, after that eventful race and his first podium he could finally celebrate it, with his friends and his team, even part of his family and of course, his girlfriend who had been with him for months now and was one of his biggest supporters.

He had changed already after a shower, into a pair of light washed jeans and a navy blue shirt. Mick looked at himself in the bathroom mirror one last time, he didn't need to look great but in the end it was a celebration for him so he had to be presentable at least. After a few minutes in the bathroom he finally came out to go look for his girl, who he thought was going to go with him.

He was surprised to find his girlfriend facing towards the TV, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a matching black and light pink sweats set he had gotten her one time after she had told him she had liked it. Her phone facing down by her side and her hands where, he supposed, resting on her face, covering it.

— Hey, what's wrong? Are you not coming? — He sat by her side, putting his arm around her, fingers softly twisting her hair between them.

— We have to talk Mick, I, I can't stand this anymore — Her voice cracked at the end, even if she tried to hide it, he knew it had.

— What? Y/N, look at me, what is going on? — His hands grabbed her face now, his blue eyes scanning over her features, she was god damn gorgeous.

— Those comments, you know, they keep saying that I'm only with you because of your connections and shit, and you have been so distant lately I just — She looked in his eyes, not for long before she drifted them away from him and started to look at different things that seemed now, extremely interesting. Not the best at keeping eye contact especially in moments like those.

Mick immediately reacted back with the intention of talking back, refusing to hear her re-call the comments but Y/N talked before.

— I just don't want that to destroy us and you to think that I'm looking for fame, I just love you so much, and you've been so great to me so you suddenly distancing yourself from me is, I, please don't hear them —

His heart broke when he heard her shut down cries and saw her tear stained face. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and his hands grabbed her head softly and hid it against his chest, immediately feeling a wetness on his shirt, her tears.

A wave of sorries emitted in a low flooded her ears his nose against her head whispering them closely.

— I, you were right, I did listen to some comments, but I doubted myself and if I would be able to have a true relationship, and with you after today I know I have it. — Y/N felt his smile as he talked just by hearing the way he said the words. — When mom talked to me after the race she told me that you were the one and that you looked at me the same way she looks at dad —

The blond haired boy smiled as soon as he felt the smile of her girlfriend on his chest.

With his right hand, the one which he was not holding her with, he cleaned her tears from her face — I love you, so much I can barely hold it inside of myself, okay? You are the best girl someone could ever ask for. — She said it back after that and he repeated it a few times before falling quiet and for a few minutes they stayed like that, her arms wrapped around his chest and her head on his chest, one of his hands on her back and the other on her hair softly caressing it.

When they separated her hands went to her cheeks to wipe away the tears she had, now drying. — So, you're staying? — He asked, she simply shook her head — I'll go get ready, i have the cutest outfit planned —

She got up and walked to the bathroom quickly — You had an outfit planned without even knowing if I would get on the podium? — he asked, laying down on the bed — Of course! I felt it in my heart, you know, that you were going to be up there. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to jinx it, so I kept it to myself. — Mick smiled, looking at the ceiling, she had felt in her heart that he would be on the podium, how was he supposed to act after knowing that.

— Okay, I'm ready, let's go — She appeared on the room again, wearing a silk dress, black fishnets and a pair of black mary janes on her feet, her hair slightly wet and her eyes painted with a sharp eyeliner.

— You look, great, gorgeous actually — He walked up to her, admiring the way she looked, when he was finally in front of her he kissed her, with love and pureness.

To Mick, Y/N was his superstar and he knew she was hers too.

mickschumacher

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mickschumacher celebrating P2 for the first time and some pics with her.

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yourusername i love you <3

gina_schumacher truly proud of you !

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#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #taylor swift x f1 #f1 social media au #f1 x you #formula one fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x Y/N #f1 ig au #f1 instagram au

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gatoru · 1 year

Text

are there still beautiful things? || natsuo todoroki x reader

synopsis/content warnings: natsuo finds himself coming back to you in times of need. after all, you’ve been doing it for over a decade. (childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, domestic love, SMUT; heavy dirty talking, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint, natsuo is a bit posessive lol, yan!natsuo during dirty talk, idiots in love, not beta read we die like men)

wc: 3k

author's note: i wrote this as a gift for my dear friend @strawberrystepmom ! thank you so much for inspiring me, talking to me and being there for me. i wanted to show you that i really appreciated you :) <3 hope u like it

Natsuo has a habit.

Such a habit consists of knocking at your door, usually late at night – desperate, big eyes begging for help. He’s been doing it for years, ever since he was merely a lost kid. This time, his head is down and he won’t seem to fully look into your eyes.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Todoroki breaks the silence, shaky voice leaving his chest with force.

Truth be told, you knew he’d show up at your small apartment as soon as the news broke, as soon as you saw the scarred man on the television proclaiming to be one of the Todorokis.

Touya.

You let him in – of course you do. There’s nothing in the world that would stop you from letting Natsuo in your home, and in your heart.

“Is it true?”

Your question seems to cut the tension in the air, as a knife ripping the thickness apart. Context isn’t needed: the white haired boy – man – is still staring at the coffee mug you handed him moments earlier. You’re past the point of asking how he likes his coffee, black and no sugar, thank you very much.

“No. Yes.” He finally looks up at you, dark gray eyes looking for an answer. “I… I have no idea.”

There’s silence once more - only this time, it isn’t thick with tension. It’s still heavy, with a hint of sadness. There’s only so much to be said about a dead brother coming back to life, and becoming evil. Still, you’ve known Natsuo long enough to know what he’s thinking.

“Touya was dead.”

You uncross your arms, taking your mug from the coffee table in front you. The coffee was running cold already.

Natsuo is still staring at you. You can’t help but notice there’s a certain resemblance between him and his father – his nose and eyes belong to his mother, yes, but the rest? It 's all Enji.

You can’t imagine how he feels.

“Natsuo…” You whisper his name, placing a gentle palm over his hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

He nods, recognizing your truthness. He sighs – a tired one, and exhausted one.

“I don’t think there’s a lot to be said.” His confession lifts a weight from your chest, and you’re glad you didn’t close your fist around something so delicate. “Just… I don’t wanna go home.”

It’s your turn to nod, knowing exactly what he means.

The first time Natsuo showed up at your door, you were merely kids.

Your mother answered. immediately recognizing him as one of the Todorokis that lived down the street. Years later, she would tell you the truth: his household was hell on earth. But, again, it wouldn’t take the brightest mind to notice that.

You were both seven. Or he was eight, maybe. You don’t remember all the details.

However, you do remember the dynamic: he’d come knocking at your door whenever things got rough at home. Your mom would feed him, you’d play video games together, and he’d get a chance at a normal life – even if only for a few hours.

“Do you wanna play pirates?” You’d ask, a toothless grin plastered on your face.

Natsuo would smile – as big as he knew how to.

“Yeah.”

Needless to say, you didn’t have to show him the guest room. He knows his way around.

You lean against the door frame as he takes his jacket off, throwing it on the chair besides the bed. He doesn’t look out of place, strangely so. The 6’3 man doesn’t look uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, you’ve never seen him look so at home before.

“Want me to order take out?” He asks, fishing his phone out of his backpack.

“Only if you’re craving something. Was thinking we’d cook something simple.”

He frowns, gray eyebrows knitting together.

“If you think I’m staying at your place and let you cook for me, you’re out of your mind.”

“Technically,” You hold a finger up, getting closer to him. “It’s for us.”

He scoffs, mainly in amusement.

“Absolutely not. My mother would have my head at the sheer disrespect.”

You chuckle, although not missing the shadow that crosses his eyes at the mention of his mother.

“Fine. Whatever makes you happy.”

“How come I’ve known you for almost 15 years and you still suck at Mario Kart?” He asks, in pure disbelief at your 8th position.

“It’s hard!” You cry, failing at avoiding another green turtle shell an NPC threw in your direction. The pink car stumbles once again. Peach has always sucked, anyway.

Natsuo finishes the race in first place, as you see Yoshi celebrate on the top of the screen

“You suck.” He adds, chugging at his can of diet coke and giving you a smirk.

You have to actively avoid acknowledging the butterflies rebelling in your stomach.

“And you’re mean.”

There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone. He takes the controller from your hand, getting closer to you. He’s so big and warm… so inviting.

“Cry about it.”

Despite the mocking, he finishes the race for you.

The first person to defend you from monsters was Natsuo.

Well, not actual monsters – more like shitty 5th grade bullies.

The whole playground saw it. An older kid – although the same size as Natsuo – tried to steal one of your toys. The white haired boy puffed his chest, and displayed the meanest face he could. Much like his dad.

“Give it back!” You screamed at the older kid.

Natsuo, however, didn’t ask. no, he punched the kid. Right in the stomach.

You remember gasping in surprise, but gladly taking your toy back. No one’s ever messed with you again.

It’s only fair you do the same to him every now and then.

“It’s getting late.” You notice, turning the television off.

“Yeah.” Natsuo gets up from your worn out sofa, towering over you. “I’m heading to bed.”

“Need an extra blanket or something?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He walks towards the bedroom door, turning on his heels halfway there.

“Uh… thanks for letting me stay, by the way. Really means a lot.”

You smile at him. He smiles back.

“Anytime, Natsuo. Knock on my door if you need anything.”

He nods, excusing himself.

Unsurprisingly, Todoroki knocks on your bedroom door a little after one in the morning.

“Natsuo?” You whisper, sitting up in your bed, still hazy from sleep.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers from the half-opened door, an apologetic look on his face. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Come in.”

He does, gently closing the door after him.

You barely notice the routine established by you and Natsuo.

It’s been a few days since he first came to your place.He didn’t leave – and it’s now like you wanted him too. Having him around is nice. Better than nice. You don’t wanna name what you’re currently feeling.

“I’m home!” He announces loudly, and you almost jump from your spot at the table. Your eyes scan him up and down.

“Natsuo, what’s all this?” You ask, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

He lets the paper bags on top of the counter, sighing happily at the sight.

“Went grocery shopping after visiting my dad at the hospital.”

Your shock doesn’t seem to go unnoticed by him, although he doesn’t seem to be in the mood to acknowledge it. Your eyes drift back to the laptop in front of you.

“Nice.” It’s all you can come up with.

“Got you your favorite chocolate, by the way.”

It’s been two weeks, and Natsuo doesn’t stay in the guest room anymore.

No, he stays with you. His giant figure can’t possibly be comfortable in your not-so-large bed, but you don’t have the heart to inquire about that.

“G’night.” He mumbles, curling up beside you.

“Night, Natsuo.” You whisper back, your words getting softly lost in the darkness.

Natsuo smells like mint and something fiery. It’s fresh, it screams his name. His white locks gently frame his face, looking like a layer of now. His lips seem soft, plushy and pink.

Natsuo is sleeping right beside you when you finally name what’s going on with the two of you, although only for you to know.

It’s love.

Sleepingly, he wraps an arm around you. Despite such surprise, you nuzzle your face in his chest.

You both sleep the whole night, peacefully – for the first time in a while.

There’s only so much he can hide from Fuyumi, he thinks.

“Did you officially move out?” His sister shows up in his room – his actual room, at the Todoroki household – as he’s packing another bag. The white room seems empty, soulless.

Natsuo is taken by surprise. Of course, it didn’t seem like that to him.

“Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding all eye contact. Fuyumi’s eyes look for his, behind thick glasses. She leans against the doorframe.

“Are you staying at ____’s?”

He nods.

“Good. It’s good to at least know you’re safe.”

Natsuo blushes at his sister’s words, warmth blooming on his cheeks.

“Tell her I said hi.”

With that, Fuyumi leaves him alone.

At the dinner table – with food that isn’t take out, cooked by the both of you – Natsuo gets himself looking at you.

Your eyes glistening and your hands moving rapidly as you talk about your day.

His heart swells on his chest when you start speaking about something you love – something related to work, something he can’t quite understand.

Natsuo realizes he loves you and almost chokes on homemade soba.

That night, when you start your bedtime routine, Natsuo breaks the silence.

“I…” He starts to speak, and you look at him through his reflection in the bathroom mirror, applying nighttime moisturizer on your face, in gentle circles.

“Yeah?” You encourage him to actually start speaking, moving your hands like a fan in order to dry the products on your skin.

“I love you, _____.”

You turn around, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Natsuo…” you say his name, like a thousand times before, only this time it feels different.

“I do. Always have, I think. Ever since we were kids. I love you.” He completes, taking a strand of hair from your face. You look at him, incredulous. “I’m not asking for you to love me back, by the way. I just wanted to let you know that I do.”

He’s comfortable with just loving you.

The words seem to come back to you at such an insult.

“I’m in love with you too, idiot.”

He seems shocked at such revelation, and a stubborn smile starts to blossom on his lips. His eyes seem different now.

“You do?”

“Natsuo.” You whisper his name again. “I’ve loved you ever since you asked if I wanted to play pirates.”

He bites his lips, grabbing your waist gently.

“Yeah? What about all the boyfriends? All the other crushes?”

You figure what the hint in his irises mean.

Possessiveness.

Natsuo towers over you, and it makes your stomach do flips. You mumble something, and he brings you closer.

“Sorry, couldn’t hear that.”

“Was trying to distract myself. From you.”

He smirks, gray eyes becoming wolf like.

“Yeah, but I’m here now. And if you think I’m letting you go, you’re fucking insane.”

Your lips crash into his; desire traveling through your veins.Your tongues dance against each other, slowly and curious to taste each other. Your breath hitches in your throat as he bites your lower lip, sensually.

“Bedroom?” You whisper against his lips, in between pecs. He nods, smiling against your lips.

Natsuo’s shirt and your pajama bottoms get discarded somewhere from the bathroom to your bed.

Your nails gently scratch his abs, earning a reaction from him. His hips jerk against yours, and you bite back a moan. He looks at you adoringly, passionately. Your heart explodes in fireworks. All the movies and poems, books and songs about love make sense now.

“So pretty.” He mumbles against your neck, placing open mouthed kisses on your sensitive skin.

Natsuo takes his shirt off while your hands discover his body, reaching his gray sweatpants. The volume behind the soft fabric makes you smile, devilishly so.You gently grab his erection, playing with him a little, in order to discover more of his pretty sounds.

He groans, grinding his hips against you.

“You’re evil. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Whatever leverage you thought you had is gone once he takes his bottoms off, as his dick gloriously stands against his abdomen, with heavy balls hanging below it. Your mouth slightly falls agape at his thickness as he gently strokes his cock.

Natsuo finally removes your panties, slowly. He’s taking his sweet time with you, despite your constant squirming and whines.

“You know,” He whispers, husky voice sending a shot of desire right to your core. “when we graduated high school and you told me you lost your V card to some jackass, I tried my best not to go after the bastard. After all, it wasn’t my right to.”

His fingers ghost over your now exposed pussy, feeling your sticky wetness.

“And before that, you confessed to me how you’d use the showerhead to finish, cause your fingers couldn’t do it. They’re not thick or long enough. Can’t reach all the right places, right?”

You nod, eating his words up. Slowly, your hips start to move against his hand, but Natsuo seems to not be having any of that. He places a strong hand on your waist, holding you down. He doesn’t need words to make you obey him.

“I wonder if mine can?” He asks, pushing a single finger inside of your gummy walls. Whining, you throw your head back due to his unsatisfactory rhythm. He pushes the digit in and out, curving his finger a bit.

“What, baby?” He purrs, swallowing your moans with open-mouthed kisses. “What d’you want?”

A bubble of warmth starts to bloom on your lower abdomen, sending a white-hot feeling through your entire body. There’s sweat, there’s spit, there's desire. You feel like your body might combust at any given moment.

“More, please. Need more.” You manage to babble, eyes getting glossy over the neediness.

He obliges your wishes, shoving another finger into your needy cunt.

“Fuck baby, yo’ure so fucking sexy. ‘ve been dreaming about this for so long.” He confesses, shortly after sucking a love bite on your collarbone.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, feeling your pussy clench on his thick fingers. Right as you feel the tension start to explode inside of you, he removes his digits.

“Natsuo!” You cry, in a needy way. “C’mon, please.”

You’re not even sure what you’re asking for anymore. He smiles at you, sickeningly sweet. His white hair glues against his forehead, messy silver locks. Natsuo’s face is flushed with desire, a light shade of pink decorating his cheeks.

“Want my cock, baby? Huh? Want this as much as I do?” His clean fingers gently hold your jaw open, as he places the stained ones on your mouth. You suck on them, tasting yourself and making such dirty sounds that make him grunt.

“Yes, please. Want your cock inside me. Want you to fuck me, Natsuo” You beg, mumbling through his fingers. “Make me yours.”

The last words seem to fire a light inside of him, as he smiles at you wolfishly. Natsuo grabs his erection, teasing the tip on your wet entrance. You give him a fucked out smile, softly moaning at his actions.

“You’re such a tease, _____. I’ve been fantasizing about your sweet, tight pussy forever.” He groans, finally pushing his fat cock inside of you. It stretches you in the most delicious way, hitting spots you’ve never reached before — nor your or anyone else.

He grabs your legs, folding them against your chest, and you whine at the new found angle. It’s so deep, he’s so big. It’s overwhelming.

“Fuck, Natsuo! So good, so fucking good.”

He makes a strangled noise in return, picking up the rhythm. The slapping sound of his balls against you is filthy, and it only adds to the feeling. Natsuo – who’s usually very well composed and controlled, looks wild and predatory.

“Yeah, am I fucking you good baby? Am I fucking you dumb, so dumb you can’t even talk properly?”

You whine, only nodding in response. The bubble of warmth starts to grow on your abdomen again.

“Fuck, fuck.” He groans. “Are you on the pill?”

Rapidly, you nod, silently consenting what you know he’s actually asking for.

“Gonna feel you up so good, baby. Gonna make you mine.” He places a couple of digits against your puffy clit, rubbing them in circles, and you cry even louder.

“Cum for me, baby. Can feel you clenching down on me. Go ‘head, I got ya.”

You feel the Earth stutter on its axis as a white hot feeling explodes on your tummy, making your legs shake. Waves of fire travel through your entire body, as your vision slightly fades to black. You can feel Natsuo spill inside of you, with a groan of your name against your ear.

You stay like this, for a moment, lost in blissful silence. Hissing, he removes his now soft dick from inside of you, his cum spilling out. Slowly, your breathing comes back to normal and you sit up, finding your lover with a wet cloth on his hands.

Gently, in between soft kisses and praises of “you did so good for me” and “love you, love you so much”, he cleans you up, just enough so you won’t be too uncomfortable before summoning the energy to go shower with him.

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.”

Natsuo looks at you, adoringly, slowly taking in the fact that you’re his. The only thing he’s ever chosen in life, the only thing that actually belongs to him, he won’t have to share.

He smiles at the feeling.

“Mine.” He whispers, before kissing you one more time. “Now let’s take a shower, stinky.”

#natsuo x you #natsuo todoroki #natsuo smut #natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki smut #natsuo todoroki x reader #natsuo todoroki x you #mha fanfic

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jeanbie · 1 month

Text

WORDLESS #5 ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

genre: sugar daddy & contract killer au | warnings: implied violence, establishing feelings, mentions/references to john wick & the continental | wc: 6.8k

note: who expected me to actually finish this? (answer: no one) i'm so glad that i got to finish "wordless" and put these two losers in a place they deserve to be in! this chapter is the finale and also almost entirely from levi's pov, and this one flows in a chronological order :)

★ ch1. ch2. ch3. ch4. ch5

⏤ Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Levi over the edge if he hears them again. But maybe he's ready now.

(41) Giving them space when they express wanting to have some time alone.

It’s been a hot second since Levi saw you — and it’s killing him more than he’d care to admit.

Since the blow up in the shower over girls he wasn’t fucking in the first place, Levi hasn’t heard from you, and he hasn’t made much of an effort to reach out either.

Why did he even lie? There was no benefit from telling you he was seeing other girls; the only reason he said that so often was to manage the healthy boundaries between you, to remind you not to get too close, to remind himself that being with you is a risk.

Not that pushing you away has made his life any easier. On the contrary, he thinks it’s made everything worse.

It is almost dehumanising to admit it to himself, but he misses you. Since your rather unconventional first meet — which was a far cry from any ‘meet cute’ that normal situationships had — Levi has been telling himself that the circumstances surrounding you being in his life were unique at best, and that you weren’t permanent.

But now, he lives his life around a ghost of your body, making room for you in his home, making time out of his schedule, making arrangements to keep you happy.

Okay. Maybe it’s a little bit too late to acknowledge the feelings he has for you. Levi knows they’re there — he’s not an idiot. But making those feelings real is something he just can’t afford to do. Not yet. Not while there’s too much going on in his life.

Still, he stares longingly at the door every night when he staggers back home, as if hoping you might take him by surprise and crawl back into his arms. Not that you do, at least not for a while; not until Levi grows fed up of waiting and finds you first.

But for now, he’ll grant you he space that you need, the space you deserve. And in the meantime, he’ll try and make peace with the waging war in his head.

(42) Holding their hand while walking, even if there isn’t a crowd.

“This is nice.”

The neighbourhood Levi now lives in is much smaller than the last one. It pales in comparison to the condo it took forever to finally move out of, but having consistent security breaches just for a tiring view of the river didn’t feel worth it for Levi anymore. It made no difference to him if the apartment he all but owns for you is much farther away — you’re barely ever there, anyway.

Since putting his angst to rest, and since making it known to you that you’re quite literally the only woman he likes enough to keep buying houses for and invite over, things have been calm between you.

There’s still a strange unspoken thing, the remains of an agreement made out of convenience so long ago, to feed both the lust and pride Levi wanted and the safety you craved; but in general, Levi acknowledges that what he has with you right now feels like the closest thing he’s had to a partner in a long, long time.

Levi looks over at you, feeling your hand tighten in his as you cross a cute little park covered in flowery bushes and beds of tulips.

“I’m glad my neighbourhood has your stamp of approval,” he replies, tightening his fingers around yours before pulling up slightly to stuff your joined hands into his pocket. Though it’s spring now, there’s still a bite in the air, a chill that Levi is determined to shelter you from.

“Technically,” you start, and Levi can predict, like a robot, what you’ll say next, and mouths the words as they fall from your lips, “it’s mine, too.” Your eyes turn piercing as you scowl at him, “Hey! Don’t…predictive text me.”

“Then stop being so predictable.”

“I think we spend too much time together,” you mutter, looking back at the flowerbed you’re currently passing by.

Levi scoffs to himself and playfully scratches a nail against the hand lodged in his pocket.

“Then go away,” he says. No chance, is what runs through his head, and the coy smile you flash him is as equally predictable as the word he knows you’ll say next, starting with n and ending in o.

(43) Holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them.

Ever since Levi figured out how to share locations, he’s become obsessed with watching you move around on the map on his phone. Numerous times, he’s slipped up on spending hours watching your little circle move, sometimes not even moving at all.

If you had any complaints, he hasn’t heard them, though he very much doubts that you’ll complain in the future now that his stalking has worked out in your favour.

You might have initially thought that bumping into Levi outside the supermarket was a rather delightful coincidence — that was until he moved across the city, and has no real business in your area unless it concerns you.

“Perfect timing,” you say once you see him crossing the small car park in your direction. He has half a mind to pretend he hasn’t seen you and keep walking, but watching you struggle with your shopping is painful enough.

He grunts, reaching for the bag that is squeezing the blood from your fingers. “Don’t get proud about it.”

Sniggering, you happily let Levi grab the overweight bags and fall into an even step beside him.

“Why do you have so much stuff?” Levi huffs. To be fair, the bags aren’t that heavy, but he can’t see any reason for you to have bought so much considering you live at his house more often than you do your own. “You gonna share this shit?”

“If you want,” you reply. “You paid for it.”

His tongue clicks. Levi hasn’t paid you a penny since he last felt guilty about the fact he rarely paid you, despite that being the very foundation of your relationship in the first place, but even with what he paid you and hasn’t since that point, he knows your bank account is more than comfortable. Paying for all of this has barely made a dent, but that’s what the money’s there for.

He makes his way to his car pulled up outside the car park turning in a layby and struggles in his pocket for his keys.

“I live five minutes away,” you remind him, steps slowing.

“No, you just said you’d share it, so we're going to mine.”

With a sigh, you’re left with no other choice but to follow him to his car. “You know, the romance of you carrying my bags is lost now you’ve only walked it to the car.”

Before he pops open the boot of the car, he turns to you and sneers, “You want me to walk back and let you do it yourself?”

There’s no argument to be had. You get into the car.

(44) Standing between them and a busy road.

Habits. Levi hates to keep track of how many he’s developed since you entered his life almost two years ago. Time has gone by so quickly since the day he first met you, in the worst way possible, but since then, he’s transformed into a whole new person, a whole new paranoid man who overthinks everything because there’s no other option.

His habits as of late include worrying about you whenever you’re not around — whenever he’s at work, he’ll think of you. Whenever he’s in a different city or country, Levi will obsessively worry over what you might be doing, who might be on your trail, scenting your every move while you’re vulnerable. Another habit includes feeling like an overbearing parent even when he’s in the same five mile radius, but at least he’s self aware of it.

If you’ve noticed Levi becoming more clingy, less like who he swore he’d never change from, you haven’t mentioned it yet. Perhaps a small mercy to save him the mortifying task of admitting that he has feelings stored away for you.

Today, Levi has fallen victim to his habits of worry and has walked himself all the way to your university just to walk you all the way back home. His home, not yours. In a sense, your home, too. In an unspoken way.

Levi stands waiting for you in the overhang, gaze trained on the thick grey sky until he hears your class file out of the building in a chatter. Sasha is who he sees first, followed by another one of your friends he’s never met but has seen on Instagram once or twice, and then he sees you, looking thankfully in good spirits, and all too beautiful for your own good.

When you see him standing with his hands in his pockets, he allows himself the pleasure of pride when you break away from your friends just to join him, the smile on your face so genuine and radiant that he has to scoff in amusement.

“Hey, you,” you call, falling into his arms.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” you confess, pulling away to stare curiously at his withdrawn expression. Levi is already twisting an arm around your waist to walk you down the step and across the lawn. “I told Sasha I’d go to her café and wait for her shift to end. Didn’t you have that thing today?”

“What thing?” he mutters.

“The thing with Erwin. And some deadbeat called George, or something.”

“How many Korean men do you know named George?” Levi deadpans, though his arm does tighten around you in caution. “You shouldn’t even know about that. How do you even know?”

The busy road widens into view as you leave the closed campus. Levi’s pretty much counting the days before you graduate and never have to come here again, and the time is passing strangely slow in that department. It feels like it’s been ages since you enrolled, and he wants nothing more than for you to leave and become the greatest journalist in the world — or whatever it is you even want to do when you’re done.

As you walk, you lean into Levi’s side, furthering the distance between yourself and the road bustling with cars and buses. He frowns.

One of your habits since the accident on the bridge with your family had been to avoid busy roads, as if convinced something might happen again. You’ve told him numerous times that it’s irrational, but Levi doesn’t think so. It’s a very normal thing to feel afraid of everything, even when those things are a little on the unrealistic side.

Naturally, it results in Levi sliding his arm from around your waist and replacing it with his other one, positioning himself between you and the chaotic lines of commuting cars going home.

His heart flips when you smile at him for it, linking your arm around his while moving your waist out of his grip. Levi tries not to let it get to his head how much you trust him, how much he cares for you. But by the minute, he’s losing the will to keep it hidden.

(45) Rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb.

Back to habits, there are some that Levi has that he’s not particularly as proud of. But, as expected, you’re as good as it gets, and any habit he thinks he might have gotten away with hiding, somehow you pick up on it.

Levi flicks through a blueprint laying flat over his kitchen table, his hands nervously drumming the edge of the tabletop as he tries to memorise the elaborate labyrinth of a building he’ll be breaking into later to find his next hit. Usually, Levi has you at his home before and just after taking a job, just to eliminate the threat of you being hurt as a punishment.

He wishes that the company gave you unrestricted entry and protection without him being there to clear it, but in order for that privilege, Levi needed to address you as his partner, which just felt like an even larger target on your head. So, he settles for his home, though the worry does not cease.

This building is riddled with passageways and vaults, basement levels with so many access points that studying them feels intense. One wrong recollection could come at the cost of his life, and at the minute, his life has increased in value. Things are finally going right for him, it would be a shame to have it all taken away from him again.

A text from Erwin sounds next to him, and Levi all but glances at the screen to see what’s happening. All assistance available should he need it — he almost sighs with relief at the words.

In the past, Levi had thought he could never work in cohorts with other hitmen, but becoming partners with Erwin and his henchmen has been working in his favour.

Still, it doesn’t hurt to learn the layout off by heart. So, Levi pours himself over the blueprints and maps, memorising every detail, becoming so engrossed in it that he barely even hears you letting yourself inside of his apartment.

Your shoes hit the wall with a noise that makes him suddenly aware of your arrival, and he glances up to see you peeking into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room for any unfortunate signs of Elio before you approach him.

He notices the street market bag and inhales the smell of spice before looking back at the maps. “Hope you’re gonna share that.”

“Of course,” you reply, offended he even thought you might not. You place the container of tteokbokki on the table before sliding around to his side, eyes glued to the rolls of paper. “Where’s this?”

“Less you know, the better,” he mutters, leaning his head into your mouth as you kiss his jaw.

For a while, you say nothing, letting Levi memorise what he needs to while you assess the prints for yourself. Eventually, you shift your hand over his and squeeze, making him glance at you sideways.

You’re looking at him already, though you can’t see his eyes from the way he’s hunched over. Spotting Levi’s signs of anxiety must be incredibly easy, because somehow you’ve caught on, and begin to rub the back of his hand with your thumb, nose pressed into his bicep.

“Come eat,” you suggest quietly, after a while of basking in the silence with him.

He grunts, a typical Levi sound, and nudges you away. Though, you only shuffle to the drawer to fetch two forks — forks! He scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he rounds the table to take one from your fingers.

“Easier to stab with a fork,” you offer as an explanation.

“If my mother was here to see me eating tteokbokki with a fork, she’d lose her goddamn mind.”

“Well…” You start, trailing off after a moment. You’ve got nothing to say; he’s won the argument just by bringing Kuchel up, and both of you know it.

Scowling, you stab another wedge of tteok and chew it furiously, meanwhile Levi smirks to himself, victorious.

(46) Giving them a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed.

“I need to retire. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“No way. How old are you now, like, twenty eight?”

“…I’m thirty.”

“Best looking thirty year old I’ve ever seen. Roll over, I’ll massage your back, if you want?”

If he ever refuses a massage from you, he’s an idiot.

Levi rolls over ungraciously, hitting the mattress on his stomach with a low groan. He rolls his shoulders, the bones cracking comically loud, and as you shuffle up to straddle his back, he groans again.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not heavy.”

Levi sniggers into the pillow, though as soon as your hands start to work their magic, he moans, the pleasure instantaneous.

“Make a house back there, if you want. Just don’t stop.”

(47) Staying up half the night to finish a game with them.

“I can’t do it if you’re not here, Levi. You need to get over here.”

“Do you not see that I’m trying?”

“You’re terrible at this game.”

Levi scoffs. He wouldn’t be so terrible if he actually knew how to play properly. His character begins to run in circles without him even asking him to, and Levi growls angrily.

“Fucks sake, this bitch is pissing me off.” Then, he wrangles the controller from your hands as you protest and says, “You be him instead.”

“But I don’t want to be Cody.”

“Me neither.”

As soon as you start moving little Cody around, Levi peers in scrutiny at the controller in your hand and how it so suddenly has stopped drifting on its own. There’s a circular dent in your inner cheek where your tongue is, and Levi scowls in your direction.

“You were sabotaging me,” he accuses, eyes focused back on May as she stumbles around uncoordinatedly.

“I think you’re just really bad,” you reply. Cody is moving fine, and finally, the mechanism moves and the story can progress. Hm.

Levi’s eyes bore into yours as you shift to face him, elbows snug in the blanket bundled around you both. Levi has been laying low for around two weeks now — he’s surprised with just how much he likes not having to work. Though, there have been a few times whilst playing this infuriating game where Levi has wished to be anywhere else.

“You’re good at a lot of things,” you tell him sincerely, “but just not games. And that’s okay. You tried.”

“I’m good at games,” he replies, offended.

You raise your eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Your animal living game.”

“Animal Crossing?”

“Sure, that too.”

All Levi has ever done on Animal Crossing is make a character and proceed to hit everybody with his fishing net, not to mention dig holes around your front door so you can’t get out. Still, you say nothing — the look of disbelief speaks volumes to Levi and he rolls his eyes, turning back to May as she wanders off to the side of the screen and falls off.

Okay. He’s bad at games. That he’ll admit. But you like it, and by the time he’s gotten the hang of the controls, it’s already four in the morning.

(48) Getting them a coffee just the way they like it.

Remember those habits?

“You remembered!”

If not just to see your smile, Levi likes to bring you one of the expensive bags of coffee from Erwin’s studio. You could quite easily buy the bags yourself, but there’s no thrill in ordering something and having it arrive in due time, not like there is in making Levi steal three at a time as he leaves a meeting or training session.

Levi sets the bags with a loud thud by the coffee machine and hums.

“And you got me a drink!”

Yes. He has also become a barista and familiarised himself with the exact way you like to drink your coffee. The takeout cup he also borrowed from Erwin is placed down by your laptop as you relentlessly type away at an assignment at Levi’s kitchen table, and he presses a kiss to your temple and mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, already sipping at the steamy contents.

“It’s hot,” he points out. “You’ll only cry when you singe all your taste-buds off.”

“I will not—” You slurp, then hiss, “Ow!”

“I warned you.”

(49) Buying them a special treat when you go out shopping.

You know what? No. Levi has given up on pretending like he doesn’t enjoy you being in his grill all day, every day, which is the reasoning for why he ends up in an expensive jewellery store with Erwin one day after a long haul of inspecting an upcoming raid location.

In all honesty, Levi wants to put his work to rest once the raid is all over. It will be their riskiest ploy to date, and quite frankly, Levi’s tired. He’s been killing people for years, cutting at the humanity he has left, and back in the day he would have been very comfortable with being a monster, killing until he was killed.

But now he had you. Now, Levi had someone to care about, so deeply and so passionately that it often left him feeling sick.

“That’s called love, Levi,” is what Erwin had said when Levi chose the rare option of opening up when he tried to explain why he wanted to retire early.

“Love,” he scoffed. But then Erwin had said something profoundly wholesome, leaving Levi with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You’re not unloveable just because you loved nothing for so long. I know it took you awhile to get back to where you are now, but just because love went wrong once before doesn’t mean it has to again. Besides, almost two years of your bullshit and that woman is still there — I don’t think you need to be worried about her pulling away from you once you tell her how you feel.”

Which roughly translated to: Buy her something nice and quash until you can’t any longer.

Once Levi gets home, he hears you giggling at something and finds you with a book over your face, your legs kicking as you squeal like a goblin. His face twists and he asks, “That book got jokes in it, or something?”

You peer around the spine and look at him. “They kissed. They. Kissed!”

“Who kissed?” Levi makes his way to the couch and takes a seat where you were just lying down. The cushions are warm — you’ve been here a while, and the thought makes him smile.

“Evangeline and Jacks. It’s all so perfect. I didn't like most of the book, but what matters is that they kissed,” you tell him, a little too excited. You plant your feet in Levi’s lap. “I love love, Levi. It is the greatest. I love books. Men written by women!”

“Why are you giggling over other men in my own house?”

“I giggle over you when you’re not around, too.”

He hums once from the back of his throat, watching as you mark the page with your bookmark and close the book before crawling into his lap and curling into his arms. He welcomes you instinctively, the blocky shape of the ring he bought in his pocket.

After smooching your lips for a long fifteen minutes, Levi pulls away and reaches for the box. “Got something for you.”

“Ooh, show me!”

He produces the little box and hands it to you, but when your eyes round and you hesitate in taking it, he worries.

“I’m not proposing,” he says quickly.

“Thank god. I was about to be very upset,” you sigh dramatically, finally taking the ring box. “Most unromantic proposal ever.”

“The fact you think I’d be that lousy with a proposal is actually really offensive.”

The genuine grumble in his voice puts a flutter in your stomach, though soon after, it simmers into a cool pit of shock when you flip open the box and see the most delicate, gorgeous ring that you’ve ever seen in your life, not counting ones you ogle in shopfronts.

Cautiously, you lift your head to peer at Levi’s expression. It’s not a proposal — he’s just told you so, and considering you’re not even his girlfriend in official terms yet, it seems unlikely that anything like that will be happening soon. But it has to be more than just an offhanded purchase, and you’re determined to figure out.

Levi’s eyes tremble as he looks between you and the ring. “Is it ugly?”

You immediately shake your head, “Of course not!”

“Put it on, then,” he urges. The steady beat of his heart stutters out of tempo. Suddenly, he feels quite nervous as he watches you take out the ring and study its appearance up close. “Need help?”

“Yeah, it’s so hard, I can’t figure out how to put it on. Needs instructions.”

Levi tuts and gently takes the ring from between your fingers, grabbing your ring finger whilst trying to look as casual as possible. Somehow, he manages to slide the ring on without making a fool of himself, but when he looks back at your face and sees gemstones of your own lining your waterline, he frowns.

“I’m not gonna sit here and give a speech,” he starts. By now, you know him better than that. He’s never opened up about his feelings to you, at least not without feeling regretful of it the morning after, and you nod simply, eyes catching the glint of the diamond. “But you know why I’ve bought it. I don’t need to tell you what you already know.”

And he doesn’t. Somehow, despite Levi being tremendously unromantic, having no manners, and in general being a terrible companion, you at least know that he cares. And with his upcoming job creeping up on you both, it doesn’t require an above-average intelligence to work out why this ring came when it did, what it means if things go south, what it means regardless.

“I know,” you tell him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Instead of saying anything, Levi curls you tighter in his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes when you snuggle your face into his collar and relax.

His mind has been made, his plans set. As soon as the job is over, he doesn’t want to look back. Only forward, with the woman who has made him feel alive again.

(50) Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

It has been days since Levi told you he’d touched down in New York, working out some stuff in the very famous Continental until he was set to join Erwin on whatever mission they had planned and prepared for. Levi hadn’t told you the details this time because the risks were too high, and now, it feels like a major setback.

New York is on fire, and Levi barely kept his life getting out of the Silver Sword compound. An entire mob wiped out by two guys with no backup — it was practically unprecedented, unseen or unheard of since John Wick was knocking around.

The Continental had done everything right in the aftermath, including keeping Levi in their small infirmary for days whilst tending to his excessive wounds. Fuck, he had been so reckless, so vengeful, so stupid. It had almost cost him his life ensuring that no leads followed him and Erwin back to Seoul, and although he had succeeded in destroying every last bit of incriminating evidence, the risks had been too great.

When Levi finally gets discharged from the infirmary, it is almost eleven in the evening, and New York has finally calmed down and settled in for the night. Erwin greets Levi in the lobby, a frown on his face, holding a destroyed black bundle of phone parts that bear a striking resemblance to Levi’s missing device. He swears.

Levi hasn’t heard from you since he got here. Since the last risky job he took in Gwangju last year, you’ve never been lax while he’s been away; he can almost imagine your fear, your paranoia, and before he can even hear Erwin’s well wishes, Levi’s crossing the lobby for the customer payphone and dialing in your number.

The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Baby?” Levi asks, after three attempts of saying your name and no coherent response. He cranes his head around the curly wire and glares at the clerk, though she looks less than pleased being interrupted by Levi, “Is this a global line?”

“Obviously, sir. It’s a telephone.”

“I fucking know it’s a telephone, but if it’s global, then why the hell isn’t it working?”

The girl gives him grief about his manners and Levi is forced to give up on calling you, slamming down the phone angrily and feeling his body growing hotter and hotter with worry.

He knows you're fine, in his house with the big cat you hate to love, but he knows you. He knows how you operate, how you worry, how you love him too much.

“Look, we’ll catch the first flight we can,” Erwin assures him as soon as Levi has caught his breath and taken a seat on one of the black leather sofas. His hands are shaking violently. “She’s fine. I promise.”

“I know she’s fine,” Levi grumbles.

“Then get a hold of yourself,” sighs Erwin, his frown low and face tired. “There’s nothing you can do but wait. I’ve got people waiting on me, as well, you know.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Dogs miss their owners just as much as girlfriends miss their boyfriends,” Erwin protests, because that’s all he has back home these days.

There had been a time where you had offered to set him up with your friend, Sasha, who deserved to be with a man who could handle her energy but also make her feel safe after her last terrible relationship, but Erwin is basically married to his work, and had got a dog despite Sasha being deathly allergic.

Still, Levi’s not heartless enough to know that Erwin isn’t missed by his dog, and probably other people in his life. And he’s right, there’s nothing he can do about the connection problems. All he can do is reign in his worries and wait.

The earliest flight they can find is the next morning, and Levi spends every second up to that point and up until he pulls up outside of his house in a complete state of panic. Would you be there? Did you leave, thinking he’d never come back?

Levi abandons his bag and leaves it in the backseat as he sprints from the car up the stairs, past his front door, and into his house. He kicks off his shoes once he’s in, the door hitting the wall with a booming slam.

He hears what he thinks might be scuffles, potentially even Elio’s claws, and right as Levi calls out your name, he sees you round the corner with a blotchy red face and feels his arms stretching out for you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You slam into his chest, almost taking him to the floor, and encircle your arms around his neck so hard that the breath knocks out of his lungs. Still, he isn’t even annoyed; he squeezes you so tightly, tighter than he’s ever hugged anyone before, and shoves his face into your neck, inhaling the smell, feeling the way your body felt in memories while he was away.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper, his features tugged in displeasure as you whimper into him, no doubt crying over his shirt. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I thought you were dead!” you blurt, “I even cried on Elio’s back because I thought you had died! What’s the point in having a phone if you never pick it up or charge it?” You snatch yourself from his arms and gently beat against his chest with your fist. “I’m so pissed off at you!”

“I’m sorry that my phone got crushed,” he says, affronted that you would even think he’d ignore your calls on purpose. “I was in a hospital bed for three days! And then the bitchy receptionist got smart with me about their shitty phone, and I called but the line cut out. Sounded like a goddamn robot, I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.”

Your jaw drops, “That was you? I thought you’d died and some enemy gang guy was trying to call me to kill me!” Levi has to laugh at the look of worry on your face. He hasn’t been cared for in this way in a long time. Never been loved to this volume. “I unplugged the landline, I was so scared! Jesus Christ, Levi!” Then, like you never left, you rush back into his arms and let out a shaky cry.

“You did the right thing,” he tells you. Unplugging the landline was the silliest thing he could have ever thought of, but then he realises that you’re still here, and that you made peace with Elio just because you thought he had died.

Levi strokes the back of your head and shushes you, feeling your heartbeat hammering furiously against his chest. His is most likely the same, though he’s not so eager to acknowledge his own feelings.

After a while of standing there, and after Levi’s stroked behind Elio’s ears when he prowls towards them and rubs his head on Levi’s trousers, Levi looks back at you softly and takes everything in.

He has missed you more than anything, grieved the missing piece of his soul that is shaped like you. And, while he’s at it, yes! Fucking hell! He loves you!

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him, and Levi kisses you, his hands cradling your face. The kiss is firm, desperate, though he has no intention of walking you backwards towards the bedroom like he normally does after a job.

Instead, he pulls you in for a hug again.

“I missed you,” he mutters. “So fucking much.”

“Me too.”

He says with his mouth pressed into your head, “I’m done with this shit. I’m not taking any more jobs.”

You twist out of his arms, eyebrows raised. “Really? Why? You love your job.”

“I hate my job,” Levi confesses. “I have too much to lose. I just wanna live my life. And make it all count for something.”

For a moment, you stand there, looking at his face so intently that he almost feels uncomfortable. But then, as a smile spreads over your face, Levi feels like he can finally breathe again, finally feel like himself.

“Alright. If that’s what you want, babe, then let’s do that.”

And we can do it together.

(51) Getting adjusted.

Levi forgot what it was like to be normal.

He now wakes up at whatever time he wants to, feeling next to him for the lump in the bed where you sleep. Once he knows you’re still there (because despite being retired, he doesn’t think the habit of making sure you’re safe will ever go away), Levi wakes up and starts his day.

Coffee for one becomes coffee for two. Levi never has to eat breakfast on his own, never sits alone on the sofa or sits in silence at the kitchen table. Levi has lost half of his sink counter space to your belongings, lost half of his wardrobe to your own clothes. There are so many shoes by his front door that it looks like a storefront.

Elio has a mother, in a strange, estranged, visitation-hours-only kind of way. Levi has made room for you in his life and you fit perfectly, so perfectly that he barely remembers what it ever felt like to live alone.

The shower is always filled with two people. Levi finds your things all over the house in the most bizarre places. He has candles on every coffee table, pictures in frames, finds your cardigans hanging over every chair. But he loves it. He loves it so much. He can’t imagine ever not having it, having you, having this life.

(52) Finally saying the words.

“This is my first time using this thing.”

“What?” you gasp as Levi comes to sit next to you on the balcony.

Elio yawns inside, sleeping on the couch. It is partly his fault that Levi’s out here in the first place, though the thought of being tucked beside you on the outdoor couch in a blanket, watching the sun sink behind the skyline, is thankfully rather appealing, and he voices no complaints.

Levi takes a swig of his whiskey and abandons the cup on the table, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. It’s not exactly cold tonight, but he knows you too well, and knows that within an hour, you’ll be dithering next to him.

“Imagine having a balcony and never using it.”

“I’m using it now,” Levi huffs, pinching your neck. You squeal, “Fuck off, it didn’t hurt.”

You’ve been officially living in Levi’s home for two months now, although sometimes it feels like you’ve always been here. Still, despite you making yourself very much at home on the inside, neither of you have once come out to sit on the balcony, to bask in the lovely sun as it settles for the night, not until today.

“When’s Erwin coming?”

“Bout an hour or so,” Levi says in a low drawl, his head tilted back and hand massaging the side of your head. It had been your idea to invite a bunch of people over to your house — the house you now shared — and frightfully, Levi hadn’t opposed. It would be nice to share the wealth of simply being alive with people he now had the patience to care about.

You shuffle to look at him, and Levi picks up his head at the sound of you moving. Like always, Levi thinks you look beautiful, but since he’s made you his girlfriend, it has felt like every time he looks at you, he can’t breathe properly.

“I’m excited. This is our first time hosting a party together,” you grin, while Levi thumbs your ear and smiles. “Do you think Elio will eat Erwin’s dog?”

“No. Elio’s moved back onto a pescatarian diet, so I think Erwin’s mutt will be safe.”

“Good. I bought him a bone, do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’s a dog. Yes, I expect, why are you asking me this?” Levi asks, eyebrows scrunched, though he pulls you close to where his mouth is and kisses you straight on the lips. “Stop stressing.”

“I can’t help it. I’m nervous! It’s all so serious! What if nobody likes our house?”

He shrugs. “I don’t give a shit who does or doesn’t like our house. It’s ours.”

“Hnnngh. And I want you to have a good time!” you whine. “You deserve a bit of fun in your life.”

“My life is always fun now that you’re my girlfriend.”

He’s instantly won himself brownie points by saying that.

“Just tell me if it gets too much,” you mutter, lips on his, mouths together. “Okay?”

Levi hums. “Yeah.” Then, after he’s kissed you three more times and felt his heart shake, he nudges his nose against yours and says, “I love you, y’know that, right?”

You pause, eyes rounding wide as you take in the sight of him. Levi has never said those words before, not explicitly. But now is as good a time as any, right?

Levi has spent far too much of his life withdrawing from his emotions, hiding away from what matters most out of a fear of caring too much. In the past, he had cared too much and lost it all. You were never supposed to be something he cared about, but when it had happened, it happened so fast he hadn’t had the time to make sense of it all.

But now, now that he’s been through it all with you, ticked every box imaginable, become comfortable being vulnerable again, Levi thinks he’s finally ready to accept the love he deserves and dole it out to those who mean the most to him.

Your mouth moves against his, though he can’t understand the words coming out. He laughs, confused, and somehow manages to pull away and ask, “What’re you even saying?”

All for you to blubber out in a laugh, “I’ve been waiting for ages for you to say that!”

His heart bursts, chest soars. “You could have said it first.”

“I’ve said it before,” you protest, “in actions.”

He scoffs, “So have I.”

And he has, you really can’t deny it.

“Say it again, won’t you?” you ask sweetly, kissing the corner of his mouth, and Levi sighs, like asking that of him is simply too much.

“I love you. You make me very happy.” Levi groans when you cackle and squish the breath out of him with a hug, but this time, he sniggers too. Why waste the moment on pretending to be indifferent when he’s actually the happiest he’s ever been?

Levi Ackerman can finally say that he feels good. He feels safe, he feels content, he feels comfortable — and most of all, he feels loved. And in love. And totally at peace in the world with the person who makes him the happiest.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #aot levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #jeanbie

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kuroosdarling · 9 months

Text

KISS THE CHEF — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : coming home after a long day of work & seeing your boyfriend cooking dinner — or at least, attempting to.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff & silliness !! : WC — 800

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)♡*.ﾟ

today you had the misfortune of staying a little late at work. deadlines and last minute corrections tied you up when all you wanted to do was to go home and see your loving boyfriend.

but instead of being greeted by him once you walk through the door like you normally are, you were faced with the slight tinge of something burning in the air and a dusting of smoke filling itself throughout the apartment.

in a second, you reach the source. standing in the middle of your kitchen, with a red and pink “kiss the chef” apron cinched around his waist, was your boyfriend sporting the biggest pout you’d ever seen.

“kuroo tetsuro-“ you start, glaring at him.

“i made dinner.” he gestured to the oven, revealing whatever was in there to be well over done.

“is that what we’re calling it?” you raise a brow, quickly searching for the hot pads.

“just let it cook.”

“baby, it’s burnt.” you ignore his ever growing pout as you opt to take out whatever was in the oven. you set it on the stove top and whirl back around, more than ready to hear his explanation.

“well, i admit. i got a little distracted.” he rubs the back of his neck, looking to the side. you follow his gaze and see the table.

the table was set beautifully, a nice white cloth strewn over it, accompanied with candles and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers — your favorite. you can even see little rose petals covering the cloth, with the nice plates set out.

“oh-“ you walk over there, fully admiring it before you turn back around. the panic you had earlier was simmering down and melting in the palm of his hand. “it’s wonderful, tetsu. what’s the occasion?”

“no occasion.” he smiles, wrapping you up in his arms — the greeting you were robbed of in liu of kuroo almost burning down the kitchen. “just felt like spoiling you a bit. well, before it all went up in flames.”

“oh hush, this is so thoughtful.”

“well, i guess it’s a good thing i memorized our take out orders then.” he joked, but you could tell there was disappointment setting in his tone.

now that you think about it, you didn’t stay that late at the office today. he must’ve set all of this up by leaving his job a little early. the thought touched your heart and you couldn’t bare to see this all go to waste.

“no!” you yelp out, loudly than you meant to. his eyes widen as he looks at you. “i mean, we have more food in the fridge, let’s finish the dinner together.”

“damn, i love you.” he says as a genuine smile stretches across his face he quickly leans down to kiss you. you giggle as his lips touch yours and you can feel his smile blossom even more.

a small sound of protest escapes his lips as you pull away, watching as he chases them with his eyes still fluttered shut.

“so, where’s the recipe?” you ask, looking around the kitchen for some sign of paper.

“it’s on my phone here.” he puts it down on the counter so you can take a good look at it.

and with that, the two of you get to work, turning on one of your playlists and flitting around the kitchen. giggling and laughing as you fill each other in on your day.

as you start chopping up some of the vegetables, you feel him behind you, encasing your body inbetween his and the counter as his arms rest on either side of you.

“you’re doing such a good job.” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. he kisses your cheek before bringing up his phone, the screen coming to life with just a simple tap. “okay once we add that we should be good to go.”

the rest of it breezed by, getting everything together with just a few finishing touches. checking the time, you realize the dinner is almost done.

“come here.” he says softly, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you close. “you need to work on your manners, you know that?”

“what?” you tilt your head, confused on what he was talking about. he pointed to his apron where “kiss the chef” was plastered onto it.

“you’re supposed to kiss the chef!” he leans in, his lips almost touching yours but he’s clearly waiting for you to meet him the rest of the way. with a roll of your eyes, you indulge him.

in an instant, his mouth is slotting against yours, trying to devour you with just a few licks of his tongue. you both get lost for a minute or two, wrapped up in each others arms.

his hands slowly slid up your back, effectively pulling you closer to him. he kisses you like he hadn’t seen you in days — like a man just coming back from war. he was so full of love and you could feel the taste of it on your lips. it was addicting.

the timer goes off, the alarm sounding off in the room causing you both to jump apart. the food was done — and you had almost let it burn. again.

but it would’ve been for an entirely different reason this time.

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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championashley · 5 months

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Alright. I said I would write this and I’m gonna stay true to my word.

I’ve been seeing a lot of takes since The Giggle has come out questioning the potency of 14’s ending. People have been citing multiple different times during the reboot era where the Doctor has “settled down” somewhere, from Darillium, the university in S10, to even Trenzalore. However, I think all of these comparisons are apples to oranges, completely missing the details of each instance and how The Giggle’s ending rebukes all of them.

So, because I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, I’m going through every single one of these instances and explain why 14’s ending is different from them, in chronological order.

I’m gonna start with a weird one: S7EP4, The Power of Three. Because it provides a good example of all the things we’re going to be talking about.

Prior to this episode, long time fans already had a good idea that the Doctor…does not do well in monotonous environments, a truth that is consistent across multiple incarnations.

“I don’t do families.”

“Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that.”

“Here you are, Living a life, day after day. The one adventure I could never have.”

“Christmas dinner.” “I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Oh god I had a terrible nightmare about you two!” [Talking about Amy and Rory having a normal life in Leadworth]

The entirety of The Lodger

“There’s a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there.”

The Power of Three, spells this truth out in bold, montage style marker pen. The Doctor “needs to be busy”. Why, as Amy later asks?

Personally I think this answer varies slightly between regenerations, based on experiences and losses each face goes through. 9 couldn’t imagine a life of peace coming out of a war, a war that he had a major hand in. 10 continues that idea, with the added baggage of losing Rose. 11’s reasoning is a bit subtler: he says to Amy that he is running to things before they go, as if he now understands how short beautiful things last. He’s going from one thing to the next in avoidance of staying to watch things die.

“And what’s the alternative? Me standing over your grave?”

This doesn’t change by the end of the episode. The Doctor explicitly tells the Ponds that he’s only staying to watch the cubes, and once the threat is gone, he’s already out the door. He only stops because of a potential threat, an idea we will return to in the next example. He even accepts the idea of Amy and Rory wanting to stay behind: “things to do. Worlds to save. Swings to swing on. Look, I know. You both have lives here. beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.” The Doctor is saying, ‘I know you have lives here, and that I can’t always be a part of that. And that’s ok.’

This episode in my opinion is a perfect microcosm of The Doctor regarding this topic, spelling out explicitly why The Doctor can't ever settle down. The Doctor needs to have something to run to because they don't feel secure enough in any place to not allow their altruism outweigh their need to process their trauma. The only thing that could motivate the Doctor to stop, even just for a second, is the promise that their friend(s) will be there too. The next example is the worst-case scenario of this issue.

Trenzalore is an interesting case. When I first heard of it being counted, I immediately shut it down, because Trenzalore was a literal war zone (wars are obviously not a good place for mental health time). But in doing research, there is actually way more baggage contained in this period making it unsuitable for this argument than just that fact.

Trenzalore was set up to be the Doctor’s final resting place, where they would truly die. It wasn’t the first time a death prophecy had surrounded the Time Lord, and once again, just as with The End of Time, the thing that kills them is, what Davros would later call The Doctor's “greatest indulgence”: compassion. Tasha Leem warns 11 that she will burn the planet upon the possibility of the Time Lords returning, a warning the Doctor takes extremely seriously.

“This planet is protected.”

“Christmas has a new sheriff.”

For 300 years, 11 stayed true to his word. He fought long and hard, for the townspeople and his own. He was celebrated and was loved. But Clara returning with the TARDIS revealed how he really felt about all of it.

“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually.”

“But you didn’t have your TARDIS.” “Well, that made it easier to stay.”

There’s an unspoken sentiment in these words, echoing 11's philosophy in Power of Three: the Doctor will always want to leave, in this case, to understandably avoid his prophesied death. But he doesn’t, because “Every life I save is a victory”. Their compulsion to help, their innate capacity to help those in need. So often it’s been their greatest strength, but here it’s framed as destructive selflessness. 11 has become so wholly committed to helping others before himself that he’s willing to accept his own death.

Clara correctly calls this out: “What about your life? Just for once, After all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?” The Doctor didn’t stay on Trenzalore for himself, he stayed for everyone besides himself. It’s only because Clara gave the Time Lords a proper verbal smackdown that the Doctor managed to survive. Had they not intervened, The Doctor would've suffered and died, once again to protect them, despite already saving them from annihilation in the previous episode, Day of The Doctor. Trenzalore wasn't The Doctor stopping, it was a century-long effort to keep satiating the bottomless survivor's guilt they still carried from The Time War.

Darillium is yet another case of looking like a time the Doctor settled down somewhere on the surface. But the details don’t match that conclusion. The entire thesis of 12 and River’s final conversation was about the fleeting nature of their situation.

“Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”

The Doctor says this, cries at hearing the Singing Towers, despite already knowing they have 24 years in a night. Because he knows it can’t last. There’s already a deadline on their moment of peace before it’s begun. Eventually River must go to The Library.

The final quote of the episode punctuates this: “And they lived happily ever after.” Fading away until “happily” remains. Because they didn’t have their “ever after” and they didn’t “live”, because a person can’t entirely experience life to the fullest with a clock hanging over their head.

While they got their moment of happiness, it was only a moment. 24 years is just a blink of an eye for a Time Lord, and sure enough, we see by the end of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”, the next chronological episode, 12 is ready to leap back into the fray. Still the same overall Doctor he was before.

The University is an extension of this. We find out that the only reason he has stayed is to guard Missy in the vault. When 12 tries to mindwipe Bill (an eerie parallel to both Donna and Clara), he directly says: “I have no choice, I’m in disguise. I have promises to keep.” Just like with Trenzalore, The Doctor’s altruism has trapped him somewhere he doesn’t actually want to be. The second he hesitates, he immediately runs after Bill, inviting her into the TARDIS and sneaks off to the universe behind Nardole’s back.

So, now that we’ve gone through each past instance, what’s the connection? What’s the key issue(s) that prevented the Doctor from permanently stopping in any of these cases?

The (fear of) loss of their friends, and the Doctor’s own self-loathing. Either out of fear of the march of time, or the chains that their altruistic nature binds them to, The Doctor always runs away from the picket fence life.

Now, let’s look at 14 and how this ending departs from all other examples.

Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle more prominently explains 14’s origins as a coping mechanism. The reason why 10’s face came back was to retreat to an incarnation that didn’t invoke the loss of The Ponds, Clara, and Bill. The second destruction of Gallifrey and the reveal of The Timeless Child. The Doctor’s avoidance of their trauma has now been made physical, just like how mental stress can often manifest as physical changes or ailments.

“We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation that I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I keep running!! How am I supposed to look back on that?!”

Already this is a departure from the instances we’ve discussed, because by the very nature of having 10’s face again, it’s forcing the Doctor to ask why.

“It’s like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I’m trying to make a point.”

But 14 chooses not to answer it, because answering it means accepting the truth: it’s too much. The trauma can’t be avoided anymore, because The Doctor would always be reminded of what they’re trying to avoid by looking in a reflection. 14 telling Shirley, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Then asking Donna, “what am I? What am I now?” It’s not because he’s been given a blank slate and doesn’t know what to do with it, like other regeneration stories. In trying to run away again, to bury the trauma and pain, The Doctor has made it more visible than ever, and doesn’t know what to do with that.

Ironically, the Toymaker causing the bi-generation was the greatest gift he could’ve given the Doctor, because 15 was exactly who 14 needed to see. He’s happy, energetic, full of life and wonder, but also empathetic, understanding and open. He’s the only other person in the entire universe who The Doctor will listen to (well, one person, we’ll get to the other later), because he knows all of the trauma they went through, and yet, made it through ok.

“But you’re fine.”

“I’m fine, because you fix yourself.”

15 is leading by example, their own ‘ghost of Christmas future’ but positive. 14 now has an ideal self to strive towards, a face born from love and empathy. 14 doesn’t have to ground herself out of moral obligation, 15 will now protect the universe.

But that leaves one question: why Donna? Out of all of the people to settle down with, why her? That’s easy: because she gets it.

Donna, out of all of the companions the Doctor traveled with, understood the soul behind the legend, because she recognized someone fundamentally similar to herself. One of Donna’s signature character flaws is her horrendously low self esteem: “I’m nothing special.” no one ever listened to her (thanks Sylvia, for at least cleaning up your act later), so she covered up the silence with noise. She held onto whatever indisputable moments of genius she had to drown out the cacophony of voices shutting her up. Wild Blue Yonder explained this perfectly: Donna believes she is both brilliant and stupid at the same time.

She lives in two contradictory self images at once, and so does The Doctor. The genius and the idiot. The universe’s most fascinating person, and the person who would easily throw away their life for the betterment of others. She’s seen their blinding arrogance/rage (the Racnoss, Jenny) and their crippling self doubt/loneliness, and always met both with empathy and kindness.

“Doctor! You can stop now!”

“Cause sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.”

“It won’t stay like that. She’ll help you. We both will.”

“Is ‘alright’ special Time Lord code for ‘really not alright’ at all?” “Why?” “Cause I’m alright too.”

Donna shouldered the burden of destroying Pompeii, she silently hugged 10 after coming back from Midnight. All because she knew what all of that would feel like in her own life. She didn’t need to know the history of The Doctor and Davros, because she saw her best friend afraid and knew he would want comfort, because she would too.

Even if Dalek Caan manipulated the timelines to get Donna to him, That friendship was completely real to both of them. We saw what Donna was like without the Doctor in Forest of the Dead and Turn Left, and she always felt some level of unhappiness. 15 years removed from them and she still felt as if something was missing. In every future/reality, she always wanted them there. Same for the Doctor too. Within only a few episodes of losing her, 10 started to fall into becoming the “time lord victorious”. 12 looks the way he does because of Donna’s plea to adhere to his name, and save people. Even before 14 came into existence, the Doctor was willing to tell other people how important she was to them, on account of River recognizing Donna by her name: “you’re Donna, Donna Noble.”

Donna didn’t just travel with the Doctor and she wasn’t just friends with them. She completely understood them, their soulmate. Two halves of a greater whole, The DoctorDonna. 14 stayed because there was a more stable incarnation to take his place, and because his best friend would be there alongside him, helping and supporting him through and through. The Doctor stayed because, for the first time in their life, they felt safe. In where they would be staying, and what they would be leaving behind.

That's why 15 doubling the TARDIS was so significant. In giving 14 her own TARDIS, 15 is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. 14 can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.

And the truly amazing part of all of this is that the TARDIS knew it from the beginning. Was it a coincidence that very soon after 13 regenerated into 14, the TARDIS landed close to where Donna and Rose would be shopping?

“You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

The TARDIS brought the Doctor home, and this time, they stayed. Because it was a place where they wanted and needed to be.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #fourteenth doctor #donna noble #dw meta #dw spoilers #doctor who meta #meta writing

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awoogayanderes · 1 month

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chapter six : you did as you were told

➪ sypnosis : you’re much more aware of things than what the doctor believed you were

➪ other notes : hi guys :3 here’s a new chapter, i didn’t like how it turned out but this is also kinda like a filler chapter that builds up afterwards, need reader with some trauma. also reader might seem a bit dramatic BUT PLS REMEMBER THAT SHES LITERALLY 13 IN THIS.

➪ warnings : manipulation, MORI IS A HOE !!!! ( as always )

you didn’t have anything to do, boredom often consumed you. so, on most days when your chores were completed, you pass your time outside. maybe even wandering on the outskirts of yokohama, memorizing the path back home easily. mori didn’t really care, well he didn’t notice much when he was caring for the old man you no longer saw.

you hummed quietly as you returned home, picking up a newspaper from a trash can. “rise of the armed detective agency” blah blah, “more violence on the streets” blah blah, “the sheep strike again.” now that interested you. how shameful it is that such a violent group is named after a docile animal.

shaking your head, you throw the newspaper back into another trash can. when you get to the doctor’s house, there’s a slight hesitation when you place your hand on the door knob. nevertheless, there was no other place for you to go. the door creaks, the hinges on their last life. when you walk into the kitchen, you can see the doctor surrounded in papers.

“how was your day, dear ?” the doctor asks as he looks up. “fine, how was yours ?” you ask, already wondering why he was home. “same old, same old,” he says. “why are you here early ?” your thoughts become dialogue. “he wants to be alone,” mori says, knowing what you’re indicating. you hum in response.

“can he can think properly ?” you ask. the doctor shakes his head, “pity isn’t it ?” a scoff leaves your lips by accident. “he should still be able to be conscious of his thoughts, he’s not schizophrenic,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows. mori parts his lips before giving you a smile, but there was an uncomfortable curve of his lips that made you shut your mouth.

“my, my, how lovely it is to see you pay such attention to keen details,” mori says. you don’t say anything, you felt, almost scared. no, not almost, you were scared. “what are you doing to him ?” you quietly ask. “me ? nothing,” he says, a calm tone on his words. “how much longer does he actually have ?” you ask.

“a month,” the doctor sighs. your lips part as a small gasp leaves your lips. “you’re destroying his brain…?” you ask, almost hesitantly. you knew that the doctor wasn’t…well not a good doctor but all doctors save lives don’t they ?! “he asked about you the other day, he believed you were his daughter,” the doctor sighed, still not answering your question.

“you told me…you have told me that death comes naturally, that doctors should never be the cause of death,” you say, courage taking over you. “but you’re who’s killing him, my dear, you’re the one who supplied the medicine, you started the process,” mori says, standing up, and that’s when you freeze.

you ? a soon to be murderer ? but you just did what you were ordered to do in your time with him, give the boss the same medication every day. the doctor grabs your hands, holding them in his own before leaning down. “his blood is on your hands.” he whispers, meeting eye to eye with you. not realizing you’re shaking, the doctor lets go of your cold hands and stands up to his normal height, still in front of you.

“you did as you were told, but you are still at fault here, you are the reason he will die,” mori says, looking down at your smaller frame, yours eyes wide. you feel your heart in your throat, you only wanted to comply with what the doctor said, nothing more, nothing less. yet you were to blame, yet you ARE to blame.

“have a pleasant rest of your evening, my dear,” the doctor says, leaving you in the middle of the kitchen, in the same position with your hands out, it was as if you were frozen. you could only see the sun slowly droop and the night sky reigned, as you thought to yourself in misery. you only did as you were told.

#written by terra #sincerely terra #bsd #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #bsd manga #bsd x reader #bsd manga spoilers #bsd dazai #bsd anime #dazai bsd #bsd mori ougai #bsd mori #bsd spoilers #bsd fic #bsd imagines #bsd angst #bsd hurt comfort

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ivoryghostyy · 7 months

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「 image isn't mine. sourced from pinterest. 」

「 this was supposed to be a re-vamp of "love bite" but, well, i guess i got a bit too carried away. this one's pretty long, so have fun! 」

「 tw: possessive behaviour, swearing, non-consensual biting, mentions of blood, mentions/implications of violence — read with caution. 」

"don't touch that!"

crash!

"oops. :("

"oops? that's all you have to say- don't give me that look."

":("

"fuck you."

"ohhh, i like the sound of that-"

you groan in frustration, rubbing your throbbing temple. pieces of a broken flower pot lie carelessly on the tiled floor—a flower pot that was meant to house your newly grown Daffodils if someone could keep his hands to himself.

he frowns at your distress, snaking an arm over your shoulders to pull you in. his free hand rests snugly on the small of your back. right where it belongs.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. i'll get you a new one, okay?"

you shake your head, making your way through the array of potted plants within your shop. once your hand grasps the familiar wooden handle of your broom, you reply.

"no. it's alright. i can just order another one; it wasn't that expensive, anyway."

he hums, looking through his phone. at this point, you know he hadn't listened to a single word you said. he's been your closest friend for years. by now, he's probably-

"i got you a new set. they'll arrive in a few days. is that alright, honey?"

-already ordered another one. actually, he ordered more. you don't even need that many pots right now! you can feel another headache settling in.

"okay, whatever. what are you doing here, anyway?"

you sweep up the sad pieces of the flower pot, sending your Daffodils an apologetic look. 'i'm so sorry, my babies. i'll get you a new home soon, i promise.'

he watches the exchange, eyes squinting. you're no stranger to the look. you've seen it more times than you could count on two hands.

or, well, you assume that was the case. you're not really counting-

while you're cleaning his mess, the man in question leans idly on the counter.

'how strange,' he muses. he's seen the way you coddled your.. shrubs. for the last time, they're not shrubs!

maybe you were unknowingly born with the ability to talk to plants? or you simply have some form of connection with your babies, as you liked to call them.

or perhaps you've simply lost your mind ages ago, so you've convinced yourself that the shrubs- they aren't shrubs!!

-sorry, the not-shrubs could communicate.

wait, did you talk in his head?

you ignore his sudden confusion, opting to mourn over the loss of a perfectly good pot. fly high. you will be missed. after dumping the broken pot, you turn back to the insufferable man.

"you didn't really answer my question."

"what? am i not allowed to visit my favorite florist?"

"mind you, i am the only florist you know. besides, you're too busy to pay any unnecessary visits."

he laughs, muscles flexing as he pushes off the counter.

"alright, you got me. so you remember when i told you that i've found her?."

her? oh! he means his, uh, what did he call it? ah, right. his destined pair. pfft, that sounds cheesy as hell. why can't he be normal and say he fell in love?

"yeah? are you going to man up and tell her? you've been dancing around it for years; you haven't even introduced me yet!"

with a snort, he crosses his arms.

"well, sorry. i don't really find the need to introduce you."

eh? you take personal offense to that!

with a dramatic gasp, you clench the fabric of your top, right where your heart is.

"i've been your best friend for this long, dealing with your stupid ass for years, but you won't tell me who the love of your life is? i see how it is."

he smiles, "i.. don't think we'll still be friends after i tell you.."

what?

"don't tell me, is it my sworn enemy!? i can't believe you would settle for that-"

he denies it immediately, face scrunching in disgust.

"absolutely not. i would sooner choose to marry a horse."

you crack up at that, clutching your stomach as you laugh.

his eyes soften with a small grin. sometimes, he wonders what he'd done to deserve you.

you, with eyes that light up every time you see him. with that smile stretching your lips into a carefree curve; delighted and so full of life. you fill his heart with an immeasurable amount of love. if only you know what you do to him.

everything about you is so perfect. you're mesmerizing. you're his everything.

but he's not the only one.

just thinking of all the eyes who've dared to look at you..

his smile falls.

if only he could gauge their eyes out; or better yet, he could keep you all to himself. he'd mark you as his own, give you everything you could ever want or need. it isn't hard for him to do as he pleased.

but at what cost? you wouldn't be happy. you would hate him. but worst of all, he would hurt you.

and he couldn't hurt you. never.

and yet, as he watched a customer—another man—flirt with you, he couldn't help but rethink his choices. would it be better for him to take you, after all?

his eyes darken.

you're stuck.

after you had closed the shop, you were forced down.

he held your trembling wrists, firmly pressing them against the counter. 'his hands are cold,' you noted, breath hitching as he stared you down.

"look, i know i said 'fuck you' earlier, but i didn't mean for you to actually do so-"

"shut up."

you did.

he was mad, you could tell. frustrated, even.

why? did you do something wrong? were you being too mean earlier? did he find the secret stash of snacks you've been hiding from him-

you squeak when he hauls you up by the waist, fully lying you against the wide counter instead of the previous awkward position.

"w-wait, seriously, we can talk about this-"

you're cut off when he grips your chin, roughly forcing your eyes to meet his own.

"you know i don't like it when you avoid my eyes."

he's only an inch away from your face; his stare holds an intense wave of emotions. they swirl within his eyes, almost unreadable to you—but one stands out.

you lean your forehead against his, facing him head on. you don't avoid his eyes. you're not scared of looking directly at him, even in this situation. that might be another one of the reasons why he's fallen so hard.

"why're you hurting?"

his eyes crinkle as he grins. such a sweet human. no matter the circumstance, you never lose your heart. do you not find him threatening? he stares at the guilty little twinkle in your eyes. how can one be so cute.

you're not making this any easier for him, are you? he can barely control himself as is.

your eyes catch a glint, honing onto his sharp fangs.

what-

"ah, the cat's out of the bag."

his voice sends shivers down your spine, and unconsciously, you move back.

he doesn't allow it, however, as he guides you closer. his fingers draw up your leg, leaving a trail of heat despite the contrasting temperature of his hand.

he stops at your thigh, pulling it up to his hip.

he's so fucking close.

"i can feel you shaking, sweetheart. are you scared?"

you shake your head, but he's already caught the traces of fear that linger on your features.

"lying is a sin, love. weren't you the one who taught me that?"

the next moment is a blur.

he leans down, fangs poking the skin of your neck. dread settles into the pit of your stomach. the fear comes after; and then the panic sets in.

but it's already too late.

you whimper, biting your lip to distract you from the pure, unadulterated pain. your trembling hands find their way to the back of his shirt, tightly clutching the fabric.

you don't even realize that you're crying until he rubs your cheek, and you feel the tears sliding against your skin.

his fangs sink deeper, and the agonizing pain melts away, replaced with a growing heat in your abdomen. you stifle a moan, the metallic taste of your blood lingering on your bitten lip.

he keeps you against the counter, a hand tracing circles on your waist. suddenly, you're not scared anymore. your heart beats erratically, but you find nothing out of place. in fact, everything feels right.

a headache surfaces, and you groan into his shoulder as he pulls away. a drop of blood trails down your neck, but he licks it off. you shiver, feeling hyperaware of every movement.

he smiles at your dazed state. he rubs your head, pulling you closer when you bury yourself in his chest, nuzzling into his embrace.

his eyes trail down to the mark on your neck, and he grins with pride; kissing your temple.

you'll probably be mad when you're not dazed anymore..

no matter, he'll make it up to you later. right now, he can't wait to take you home.

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