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honestsycrets · 11 months

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Stung | [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | after a discus malfunction, you're bitten by an anomaly and refuse medical attention. you're in a state that you refuse to show to miguel-- at all costs.

❛ tags | NSFW, sex pollen, mention of a wound, slight chase, miguel o'hara doesn't like to be ignored, cum eating, creampies, abnormal amount of fluid, venom bite, slapping, some insecurity, spanish is not translated, sexual memories.

❛ sy’s notes | my obligatory ABO-sex pollen fic for ATSV. i usually make a ABO/Sex Pollen piece per fandom I write in, so here's one for Miggy 🐝

“All done!”

You slipped out of HQ’s packed infirmary with a jaunty bounce in your step. Crispy, coppery blood was matted onto your forearm concealed behind a hastily tied bandage. You weren't concerned about it. It would resolve within the hour. Likely less. As would your elevated body temperature. Despite the doctor's prattle about the benefit of further testing, you found their concern to be a non-issue. These things were virtual non-issues, even if the doctor and your man thought otherwise.

The hallways at HQ were like any other day in your city. Congested with the coming and going of spiders in their daily lives. A glimpse at any group might reveal decadent flirting and haughty laughter. Some were in a rush to their own worlds, but most were completing work assigned by the Spider Society. The one you were looking for reclined against a wall with his arms interlocked one over the other. His displeased rumble prompted you to his presence above all other voices in the crowd.

“You should have let them run the tests.” His voice was teased with concern but became mild, little more than a drab sigh at your refusal. You blew off his concern with a shake of your hand, gone yellow and bubbly behind a bit of ineffectual gauze. His eye glazed over the wound. You couldn't tell what he was thinking behind his mask, but you didn't need to. You only needed to convince him you were right.

“It’s stopped bleeding, Miggy. It’s just a scratch,” You held up your arm, flicking it with emphasis. His eyebrows raised for a moment, then flattened, staring at you with a dull rictus. “It was just a brief malfunction of the discus.”

Technically it was more of an impalement, but if Miguel wasn’t going to ask, you weren’t going to invite him to delve deeper. Otherwise, you might spend the next few hours of your life fixing a wound that surely would have closed up by the time results were back. The injury site mildly itched. That was all. Never mind, the slight, honey-colored rash migrating from the puncture site to your elbow. Or the referred pain. Minor things.

“You’re being stubborn.”

“You’re the one to talk.” You snapped the discus free from your sash and chucked it toward Miguel. He caught it with an unsurprising amount of ease, claws clicking in unison against the ineffectual metal.

“¡Qué problema!” he mocked, his voice dry and absent of discernible emotion.

You closed the distance between your bodies to slide your arms around his broad neck. His other hand came to your lower back. It was warm, the way he touched you, from the bundles of affection that fluttered in your belly to the heat dappling across your chest. You missed this every day. It made fleeing the infirmary all the more worth it.

“I put the anomaly in another discus. One that actually works, no thanks to your programming.”

“That’s what happens when you take things without asking.” He flicked the discus between his thumb and index finger, waggling it for emphasis. It was true that there had been nights that went with banging, clacks, clatters, and the occasional outburst when things weren’t quite going his way. There were a few discuses on his desk. You just so happened to take the one that malfunctioned. “I was working on it. ¿Qué era?”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Just some stingy bees. What harm could they do?”

His eyes roamed your wound. You couldn't help but look down too, both horrified and fascinated by the way the rash had moved in just a brief few minutes. The colour had begun to fade. You glanced up, flattening your mouth into a slight, forced smile.

“Fine. If you're sure.”

To be fair, you secured many anomalies with and without the help of others. They all went into their cozy, temporary forcefield homes until they could be fairly redirected to their appropriate dimensions. In the downtime, you could help or hinder Miguel's progress. Then, your watch would alert you to another disturbance and the cycle would continue.

Until that morning.

Your watch blared, and blared, and blared some more. The early morning sun began to rise and cast offensive beams of light into your room. Usually, it didn’t bother you. But this morning, everything offended you from the scratch of silky sheets on your naked body to Lyla illuminating what darkness was left, all golden and cute. You wondered if that was how Miguel felt when you forgot to pull the curtains, strung out on the bed after he finished with you.

“Woah! Oops!” she turned, covering her eyes with her spindly fingers. A growing ache throbbed between your legs. It wasn’t quite the same dull soreness from Miguel’s late-night visit last night, either. “Sorry, sorry. Miguel--”

“He can handle it,” you bit out, snappier than you intended. It wasn't like you. “Or-- Jess. No, Gwen. Gwen can do it, she loves--”

“He asked for you.”

Of course, he did. You scrunched a pillow over your head. Your Miguel couldn’t see you this. Absolutely not. You debated getting up, ignoring what you called a negligible ache that was quickly morphing into a terrible pounding. You can't believe how quickly the thought fell apart, pushing yourself to sit up in bed. The ghost of his scent floods your nose, flashing memories of the night before.

Something at work set him off. Something that commanded no intimacy, but the mechanical release of his rage that wouldn't destroy precious resources. He sat on the edge of the bed, driving your mouth onto his cock with the aid of your hair bundled around his fist. You recalled the shakiness of his thighs under your fingers, his firm legs spread wide fucking your mouth with cold abandon. He chased his own orgasm selfishly, needing the release, needing to see your body painted by whips of his cum sprayed across your exposed breasts. He pulled you off in silence, inspecting the drool and cum that spilled down your chin and throat in rivulets. "What--"

Your face tightened, glancing down at the growing tension in your belly. Everything began to annoy you, especially the scratch of the sheets against your skin, your bed empty of his presence. How could you tolerate that uniform plastered to your ass? You buried into the offensive bed. This was fine. This was normal, recalling what you'd done last night. Surely, the burn had to do with the whole being launched through not one, but two crumbling buildings the day before. The dust and rubble. Were you close to your cycle?

“Tell him I’m dead,” and without another word, you resolved the call. Within seconds she popped up again, bent at the waist because this was your life now. Never could you just… take a day off. There was always something. You muffled your screams of protest into the mattress and dug your feet in, kicking off the sheets, the blankets, the pillows, all of it.

“Is this a fit? You’ve never had a fit before,” Lyla noticed. A fit? She thought the burning of your body was a fit? Damn AI. Resolve.

Resolve. Resolve. Resolve.

It became cathartic after a good while. Or it would have been if not for your senses hyper-fixating on every minor change in your body. Despite your apprehension, you knew. What was once a dull pain radiating from your forearm morphed into something much worse. Something you couldn’t blame on the rather average experience of being pelted through the average event of windows and concrete. It was more than a tingle. It burned as it coursed through your body.

You stumbled over the bundle of bedding into the bathroom. It was there that you realized that to your horror, you weren’t just lubricated, now you were soaked. Your fluids coursed down your thighs as you dabbed the region clean with a bundle of tissues. It did little good. Touching the area exasperated the issue. Maybe you needed an orgasm, maybe ten. An hour or so later, you slammed the heel of your palm into the mirror, fracturing it into shards of terrible glass that crumbled onto the countertop. Beads of blood dabbled onto your reflection.

“If you d--” resolve.

So not a reaction to your average bee sting. Correction. A great, big, fat colony of hissing, buzzing bees. The act of recalling information was like jamming your hand into fluid water to snatch a tiny hair tie. No matter how many times you tried to recall the information, you couldn’t quite grasp it. It was there, floating around your head, but inaccessible. Your mind traveled back to Miguel. How gentle his lips could be, trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder when you rode him in reverse. How deep he'd go.

"Fuck off!" Your watch blared again. Its beeping filled your bathroom, echoing over and over. You reached behind the door to pluck a silky white slip from its hook and dragged it over your head. You were about to resolve the call again when the hot timbre in his warm voice saying your name gave you pause. Your Miguel, popping up in a golden haze. You found yourself gazing at his full lips, full and plump. If only he was here. He could have his lips on your--

“What are you doing?”

Lost in thought, you failed to realize that Miguel had been calling you by name again. You shook your hazy mind free of the thoughts that formed a swirling cloud over your head. You slumped down the wall and onto the floor.

Help was what you failed to say. As your mouth opened, nothing came out. The words were not wording. The vulnerability of asking for help was palpable. You soothed yourself by shifting your hands underneath your skirt. What would he think if he saw you here-- ripped asunder by your own biology? Whore. Miguel lowered his gaze, his eyes squinting at the sweat dabbling down your neckline as he looked you over. He wouldn't want you anymore.

“Are you listening? ¡Coño! What is wrong with you!?”

Resolve.

You resolved him. Your Miggy-- resolved. Oh, you swallowed dryly. He wasn’t going to be happy about that. It wasn’t a matter of if Miguel would come for you. It was a matter of when. When he had time to separate himself from trashing-- whatever was the closest object to him in the lab-- to take out his rage on you. You reached for your medicine cabinet. You had more important things to worry about. First on the list? The searing heat.

Your watch was better off tucked away in a chest in the closet.

Night came with no solutions. You crouched on your window sill, chest rising and falling. You sought to stare at anything but the mindless buzz of the tv screen inside. Even with light pollution, some stars winked in the distance. Your body was a bundle of warm heat, buzzing with irritation after a fruitless day of soothing your body. You grew accustomed to your pert nipples against your silky slip, the lubricant coursing down your leg. At first, denial. Now, acceptance. You thought tomorrow might be better.

You felt his presence before you heard, smelled, or saw him. Through the sea of scorched sensations battering your senses, there was one that stood apart. A tickle that niggled at the back of your head. It could have been anyone, but you didn’t have to guess to know who it was. “Lyla."

“You haven’t called him all day,” Lyla squeaked.

“Called all-- I answered his call!” Your dress was matted to your body, cloaked in an abhorrent amount of sweat. It was only minutes ago that you retrieved your watch confident that you could bullshit something, anything, for a few days of reprieve. You jammed your shaking finger to resolve the call.

“Not all of them. Miguel was worried.”

“Worried! Lyla, that is not worried,” you spat. That was your Miguel, scaling the side of your apartment. His talons cracking the siding of your apartment. The reverberations spiraled up your legs, sending waves of anticipation lapping at your core. After your long day, you weren't sure how you were still somehow upright. With every crack of his talon into the brick siding, you were running out of time to come up with an excuse.

In a bid to escape, you fell into your room. The hard floor knocked the breath out of your dry lips. You stumbled onto your feet and supported yourself with a bookcase of less than half-read books. “Lyla, he can’t see me like this!”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” she popped back up. “C’mon, you can tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

If her tone was playful in some half-baked attempt to neutralize your fight, the threat was imminent. Your hand connected with the top of the window, applying pressure to close the window. A hair too late. At the same time, Miguel’s clawed hand curled around the bottom of the window sash. You were too slow for the man who excelled with power, speed, and efficiency. You weren't going to win this fight. Not with your body threatening to crack at the very sight of your man's strength.

Though you saw him nearly daily, he always took your breath away. His sinewy body was always a sight, his suit accentuated his thick and fine cut. You moistened your lips, longing to run your fingers through his thick dark brown hair as you did every night. You caught his sharp gaze a second longer than you should have.

“Open up,” he whispered coolly.

He was a distraction. The wind was not on your side either, blowing wisps of his scent into your overwrought senses. His natural musk mixed with the sweat of a hard day's work. Somewhere in there, bitter blood. You could smell the caramelized scent of the flaky, buttery empanadas and hot coffee you shared the day before. It gave you pause, his intoxicating smell and the sultry trill of his voice. But you couldn’t let him see you, not like this.

“Oop, there he is. Just checking on you,” Lyla chittered. Resolve.

“Miggy, please go away,” you sobbed in frustration, shifting to shoulder the window. “Why are you so stubborn!?”

“It’s who I am.”

The window cracked all at once. With mere milliseconds to respond to the sash careening into the upper rail, you whirled past the bedroom door. Miguel broke into a run behind you with long strokes of his legs. He made contact, sending you barreling into your lazy sapphire couch from the impact. You saw stars for a fraction of a second before you lurched on your palms and elbows, scrambling off of the couch and across the floor. His hand caught your ankle and dragged you underneath his body.

“¡Ay!” you bit out. “No, no no no. Miggy!”

“¡Callate!”

His hand wrapped tightly around your throat to force complacency, pinning you back to the hardwood floor. Your palms slammed onto his chest, drawing lines down his chest. Bits of pathetic electricity fizzled on his broad, muscular chest, a consequence of your fading focus. That focus was eviscerated when Miguel threw his hips flat against your core. Your frantic fidgeting against Miguel soothed some of the terrible, buzzing pressure rattling between your legs like warm honey on a sore wound. The ache for his relief became more important than the impulse for substantial breaths.

“Don’t move. Why are you--”

“I can’t help it,” you cut him off, straining against his large palm to stare at his crotch. His gaze fell on yours, following the path to his soft cock. His eyes widened with the sudden attention. Tears threatened to spill over from your eyes, pricked with spikes of pain. "It's too much!"

You ate your shame with his body crouched between your legs and his large palm choking the air out of your throat. The influx of air not only brought your scent, but your day-long desperation to fix what you believed was wrong. He could smell it now. He could see it now. He could hear it in your voice. He knew why you failed to answer his calls. The violent jabbing of the resolve button. Throwing your watch into your cramped closet to ignore the calls. The pheromones that soaked your apartment. It was unavoidable.

“You can’t help it,” he repeated. Miguel considered you with razor-sharp eyes, nearly as sharp as the talons that rescinded into his arms.

"I'll see about that." His hand left your neck to reveal bundles of bumpy shivers that soared across your skin. He raised his finger to wipe away the wet tears that fell from your flushed cheeks. Then dropping lower, Miguel chased the thin straps of your gown with his claw and slid the offending fabric off of your breast. The nub was as hard as it had been hours ago when you twerked the nipple between your fingertips and dreamed of Miguel.

“You’re...” he cupped your breast in your palm and massaged your nipple with one sharp twist of his thumb. The gasp that left your lips wasn’t one you were proud of. Your undulating hips that ground down on his cock weren’t entirely unwarranted. You needed it. "Hot. As if you're in heat."

This couldn’t be happening. From a ball of rage to one of arousal, he released a tiny amused chuckle. You spent much of the day in different parts of the apartment with your hand, toy, ice, and water into your body to soothe this terrible ache. So Miguel wouldn't see you like this. It was this moment you sought to avoid after your long day: The moment of Miguel's disapproval. Now he laughed at you.

“Happy?” you sobbed into the forearm that kept Miguel stable. “Go away, someone else could use your stupid help.”

“Don’t you need me?” Miguel dipped his head down. Strands of his dark hair tickled your hypersensitive skin. With the lightweight fabric of his suit, pressing your cunt back against his clothed bulge felt wonderful. You bit your lower lip and watched his cock jut against its fabric. You lifted your puffy eyes to his gaze and found a wicked gleam there. He knew it wasn’t enough contact for the pressure and painful spasms to abate. Deep down, you knew that Miguel was your only hope for relief. Who else could, or would, you call in this condition? Mostly because Miguel always fixed everything.

"Miggy," you murmured. After this pitiful display, he wasn't rejecting you? Your mind flowed weightless and light. The terror of your day faded under his careful caress. In its place, comfort that he would take care of you.

“Don’t you?” His hand snaked between your folds and found it soaked wet, the low throbbing of your pussy palpable. He retracted his fingers and spread the sticky fluid between his thumb and middle finger. At some point, silence became better than an answer. Miguel brought his hand down on your cunt for a sharp slap. Bundles of nerves cried out under the abuse. It shook free a squeal from your lips, bitten raw by the pressure of the day. Your head bobbed into a mechanical nod as to save yourself from another slap.

“You know how to ask. It’s si Miguel, por favor Miguel.”

You needed the warm sensation of his cum. But making those words proved too difficult. Your canines pierced bloody holes in your lower lip. You clawed up his forearms, trying to leverage and force him closer. Miguel grabbed your shoulders and thrashed them back down onto the floor. You felt bad for the downstairs neighbors.

“Say it.”

“Miggy,” you looked into his eyes. They were blown wide, nearly fully black with a thin outline of scarlet, chasing the outline of your exposed breast. For all his talk, you realized he wasn't immune. Even with his face tight, his eyes focused on the same thing you needed. Maybe, all this time, you were baiting Miguel with half-assed answers. They were invitations. Invitations to come to fill this need you had. You would be lying if you said that wasn’t what you wanted this whole time. Finally, you had him where you wanted him.

Miguel broke eye contact first. He cupped his plush lips around your nipple, suckling the breast taut and wet. You cried out in surprise and arched into Miguel’s mouth, enticed by the fangs that grazed your nipple. As quickly as he came, he was gone.

You lurched up, palming Miguel's dick through his pants. His hips bucked into your palm. He refused to make any sound as he considered your next movements, releasing Miguel’s cock from his suit. Impatience and need coalesced into your brave movements, sliding your palm against him. He was impossibly thick and hard, dribbling at the tip. Miguel huffed a small noise as your palm ran over him. You dared to call it a moan.

Miguel sneered and shoved you back onto the floorboards. “I’ll only tell you one more time. Ask me properly.”

"You do too, don't you?" You giggled. A noise that grated his ear. With the belief you wouldn’t bolt, Miguel shifted back onto his knees. You wouldn’t. There was nowhere left to run. Not that you even wanted to, fat and hungry off Miguel's growing desperation.

"Come here." He snaked his hands underneath your knees, dragged you close, and pushed them to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut. Moments later, the sensation of his thick dick sliding against your engorged folds forced them back open. It gave you just enough relief through the pulsing pain to look at him with your hazy eyes. From this angle, you appreciated how large Miguel had gotten. His round cock-head bobbed and crested over your mound as it rubbed against your aching clit. His face was trained, focused. He wasn't going to relent first.

The nagging pressure never abated. You sought something more, something better, the sensation of being filled. With every glide, you squeezed your walls in protest to his absence. Your hips protested the restriction of your movement, shimmying against the firm hold he had that kept you in place. You wanted more than that. You wanted true relief from his teasing. Miguel drew back to inspect the fluid over his fat shaft as held you down. You gave in, whining at him like a brat.

“Por,” you scratched his forearms. “Por favor, Miggy. You don’t know what it's like.”

“All fours-- face down.”

The cacophony of desire battered and overcame any other human emotion you could have. You complied, crawling onto your fuzzy indigo rug for what came next. Miguel’s gloved hand skimmed across your ass, middle finger skimming toward the center. He followed up his gentle touch by reeling back his hand and cracking it across your ass, searing the nerves alive. Once, twice, and then a third. Tears pricked your cheeks again, a consequence of your nerves being overwrought and now assailed.

“Miggy!”

He shushed you with fervor, another thwack beating the jiggling flesh hot and red. Your legs trembled under the weight of his slaps. “Ignore my calls again and you’ll get much worse.”

“I didn’t-- you wouldn't want me,” your lips parted in defense of what you’d done. Miguel dipped down to spread your folds, rolling his index finger along your pulsing walls. Your body drew him in, squeezing and urging him forward. Your swollen walls were impossibly tight, straining to bring him in more and more.

"You know I do."

The need for more devoured any other thought, any threats of what he’d do next time. You rolled your hips to ride his hand. In place of a slap, Miguel slid another finger slid in beside the first to stretch your walls open. He faltered at your next words and slid his fingers free.

“Not like… not like I need you.”

“Who decides that?” he pressed on your upper back to force it down. You complied. Miguel stumbled forward, finally pressing his thick head to your pulsing entrance. His round head pressed, just barely, into your wet hole. You clenched down, inviting him into your warmth. You weren’t sure he’d actually give it to you. It was so damn close.

“You do, Miggy,” you murmured, pushing back. He watched as his shaft slowly disappeared into your body, your apprehension of retaliation rendered you too slow to finish.

Miguel snatched your waist and forced you to take the rest, a soppy squelch lubricating his shaft. The sound that slipped from your lips was entirely uncouth, punctuated by his unforgiving thrusts. Your walls strained around his cock. No matter how many times you took him, the drag of his cock and slap of balls against your body always felt somehow like the first. It filled that ache-- the consistent burning need to have him here, inside of your greedy body, scratching something that you could not itch all day. It��s what you wanted.

“That’s right, I do.” Miguel rumbled, short, punctuated thrusts beating your clenching cunt into complacency. The pleasure ruptured through your cunt-- battering his dick in response. He let loose a sharp grunt followed by a string of curses. Your sweet release spilled over his dick and balls, dripping down your thighs. Your legs threatened to shook, but Miguel was unwilling to allow your trembling legs to give out.

"Ah! Miggy!" His fangs punctured your shoulder to force you to stay in position, his pelvis stuttering against yours. His growl punctuated the warm, soothing cum that soothed your walls like warm honey over a wound. Your walls milked him free of his cum, spasming in response to his orgasm. He pieced himself together against your back, pulling his fangs free and settling a soft kiss over the burning wound on your shoulder. As if he hadn't been the one to tear his fangs into the crook of your neck.

“You’re not letting go,” he hummed in annoyance. He turned his attention down to your ass, ghosting his fingers over the healing bruises over your backside. You squealed, jerking forward. He followed you forward, punching a hole in the floor by your side. “Fuck, don’t move!”

You cast your attention back toward Miguel. He huffed forcefully out of his nostrils. He motioned toward your ass as if it were obvious-- your walls were clamped over his cock, unwilling or otherwise unable to let him go, as if he had any more cum to give in that current moment. You took it all.

“I. I didn't-- I can’t--”

“Yeah, I know. That Bee venom does that. Mine should neutralize it.”

At some point, you murmured. It sure as hell wasn’t doing it now, keeping him seated into your cunt that bubbled with the mixture of his and your release. “You knew about it? I could have died!”

Miguel chuckled.

“You wouldn’t. You’re too stubborn to die,” he sighed, fiddling with his watch. The tests-- that you never had ran. Ones that he suggested. Ones that you refused quite openly. “Why would I deny myself the fun?”

His cock slipped free. Your hips dropped and fell slack against the floor. You weren’t proud of the cum that oozed out of your ass over your decimated room, nor the fact that your useless neighbors hadn’t called for help once. Not that you needed it-- but still. You palpated your stomach, slightly distended. Miguel bent down and gathered the mixture of your bodily fluids on his fingers, suckling his own fingers dry. You watched his wet tongue swirl around his fingertips. It wasn't fair.

“Fun? What fun!? Do you know how long I-- You’re a mean man, Miguel O’Hara.”

He lurched over, his breath tickling your lips. He kissed you, salty and sweet. Your nose scrunched up, pouting against his lips. He left the room for the kitchen, fetching a wet cloth to clean his body with. He zipped himself back into his suit shortly after and dropped the sodden cloth by the cum puddling under your ass.

“Never said I wasn’t.”

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #Miguel ohara/reader #atsv imagine #atsv x you #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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sarcasticallyinclined · 2 years

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every trip or event I've heard of happening in the past like. month. has resulted in people i know or know of getting covid. and im still recovering from having it myself from a trip i didn't even go on partially out of safety concerns so it's like. even though im PERSONALLY probably the safest I'll be from getting sick, i am. very :/ about the idea of going to pride this weekend

#absolutely no one in this goddamn city masks anymore #not restaurant workers not grocery store workers the pharmacy workers aren't even serious about it #and the more I think about it the more positive i am that a bunch of people are gonna get covid after pride this weekend #actually i've just had a look through the whole website and there's no fucking mention of covid so yeah absolutely not #last year in september i went and was in the minority wearing a mask and shit has only gotten worse since #but at least they fucking required vaccine card or recent negative official test #this year? I can't find ANY policies at all for this huge crowded event #when covid rates are going up and up #no one fucking CARES anymore #i've been coughing for a week past my other symptoms and i THINK it's getting better but it's frankly hard to tell #and i THINK it being harder to breathe whenever I've been out is just my bra being too small being exacerbated by it #bc it feels like when I wear a binder for a couple hours #but it's! fucking hard to tell! and even if i do fully recover soon! it's fucking sucked!#and going back to the office today where im one of two people who wear a mask consistently is just! a fuckin slap in the face!#hate it here.#hate knowing that like everywhere else in the country is probably just as bad now.#jess pretends to have a life #sick and fucking tired of people doing things how many people have to die before we get back to giving a shit #saw stuff about new theories that every single person who gets any form will have permanent health impacts they just may be too mild to see #and also it's shown that after the initial period of I guess temporary immunity from getting it again you're MORE likely to get covid #the more times you've had it #and it's like great thanks i love to have my family screw over my health in even more ways than they did with genetics #im. tired.#and i hate coughing

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dfortrafalgar · 24 days

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Hi, saw that your request were open so I was thinking on asking you for Law X fem reader where law has a crush on reader and starts hanging out and sees that one of reader’s guy friends is being way too touchy and starts touching her butt, he is also being mean to her and at one point even hits her in the head.

How would he react, I was thinking of a fluff ending.

thank you so much for your request anon!!! i really loved this one, it was super fun to write! it was definitely a bit of a struggle though, as much as i enjoy writing heavier topics, physical abuse is tricky for me to deal with, but i hope the fluff at the end delivered some resolutions <3

also, i actually really really like Bellamy as a character. i think he's super cool, but i couldnt think of anyone else who could really fit in the role he's playing in this fic LOL

Rectify

Law x Fem Reader

Law’s feelings for you are forced to clash with a loathsome person in your life.

Warnings: descriptions of brief physical abuse, implications of past abuse, very mild suggestive language, modern setting, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

By the time Law realized his crush on you had surpassed its normal, healthy limit, it was far too late for him. It certainly didn’t help to see you sitting next to Bellamy, tossing joking remarks back and forth. All of you were in the same friend group, so it was truly impossible to avoid your interactions with the much larger, stronger, arguably more handsome man. And the thought began to make Law’s blood boil.

Because Bellamy was everything Law wasn’t.

You and Law had been friends since childhood, growing up in the same neighborhood and running with the same crowd. You were familiar with his best friends and his dad, just as Law was familiar with your closest peers. Law liked to think that, as the years went on, the two of you grew closer and closer. You were always far nicer to Law during his awkward teenage years, and there were a few times where the raven-haired boy grew hopeful that you might one day return his budding feelings for you, but that day never came. And then you started college… and then you met Bellamy.

On the contrary to the black-haired medical student, the blonde was known around the entire campus as ‘The Hyena,’ and for good reason. He was ruthless in every sport he played, a malicious, sadistic grin constantly pulling at his thin lips striking fear into the hearts of his opponents. He was strong, freakishly so, with muscles that could rival that of an Olympic weightlifter. His blonde hair was a hit with the ladies, and partnered with his darker skin tone and his assortment of badass tattoos, it seemed like a no brainer that women would be falling all over him.

Law just internally hated that one of those women seemed to be you.

Despite you having confirmed on multiple occasions that you and Bellamy were simply friends that you met in one of your classes, and that you truly had no interest in men like him, Law couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his chest.

Bellamy certainly seemed to like you. A lot.

Law watched from across the room, a plastic cup still completely full of an unidentified cocktail in his tattooed hand and the large group of friends you shared laughing and chattering around you in the living room of the house party, as one of Bellamy’s large, strong hands began to circle around your waist, gripping the soft flesh of your ass through your pants. The sensation made you jump, trying to scurry away from him with a nervous smile on your soft lips as you awkwardly laughed at the feeling, but Bellamy tried to pull you in closer. The couch cushions sunk under his weight, creating a deep divot that made it hard to stand up.

You lightly shoved Bellamy’s chest, mumbling something about standing to get another drink, before you were finally able to haul yourself up from the warm sofa and make your way toward the kitchen in the back of the house. Law stood from his metal folding chair, abandoning his cup on a random end table. He followed you diligently into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Oh, hey, Law!” you returned his greeting, mild surprise filling your eyes. “I didn’t hear you behind me!”

The man shrugged, leaning against the counter. You awkwardly fiddled with a glass bottle of beer, using the edge of the counter to pop open the metal cap. Law eyed you suspiciously.

“You don’t drink beer,” he stated, watching as you simply held the chilled bottle in your hands without making a move to drink it.

You smiled in response, but the gesture didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did. “I know… I just needed to get some air away from the living room for a little bit.”

Law couldn’t hold back the question fighting on his tongue. “Is Bellamy bothering you?”

Pointed stares were shared between the two of you before you finally, lightly, shook your head. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Something told him you were lying to his face.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you groaned. “Law… I know you don’t like him… but he’s really not that bad.”

“You didn’t seem to like it when he touched your ass,” the med student grumbled.

“Law, I don’t want to fight,” you retorted, firmly. “I don’t like it when Bellamy touches me, anywhere. I know he’s into me but I’m not into him, but I don’t want to cause a scene at a party I was graciously invited to.”

You had a point. Liquor was running as free as tap water within the stale, stuffy walls of the house, and saying or doing something that could potentially cause a fight wouldn’t be ideal. Especially since the police had already been called multiple times to a house just a few steps down the sidewalk from this one.

Law wished he could open his mouth and just tell you, tell you everything that had been on his mind, how he realized just recently (and yet somehow far too late for his liking) that he’s madly in love with you, how he doesn’t want to see you be treated poorly by someone who you call a friend, how he wished so desperately that you would see him in the same way, how he longed for your touch. But instead, he stayed silent, watching as you anxiously eyed the brown glass of the untouched beer bottle you still gripped in your hand, as if the bottle was the only thing keeping you glued to reality.

“I’m fine, Law,” you blurted. He hadn’t said anything more. With your eyes cast down to the floor, you left your beer bottle sitting open on the countertop before retreating back into the thick of the party.

The raven-haired student waited a few moments before returning as well, his metal folding chair unfortunately having been taken by two sweaty economics students locked in a very passionate, very inappropriate, makeout session. He pushed his way through the mingling crowd back toward the couch where he spotted you perched on the arm of the sofa this time, Bellamy practically flush against your body on the end cushion, his palm on your ass, fingers squeezing intermittently. The blonde was locked in an intense conversation with the man in front of him, and the look on your face screamed uncomfortable. Law felt his stomach flip over. Your eyes caught him again, and you frowned. A frown so deep that it left shadows under the creases of your lips. You looked… aged. Stressed. Afraid.

But Law kept his distance.

You didn’t want a scene to break out. You could handle yourself on your own.

Bellamy’s hand trailed from your ass down your thigh, your skin still protected by the rough denim of your jeans, but that didn’t stop his fingers from crawling around the front of your body and dipping between your thighs. The feeling of his intense hand trying to pull you apart in front of another man, without your consent, made you visibly tense up and pull away from him. Your motions finally made the blonde’s attention snap to you, his dark eyes narrowing and somehow becoming even more villainous.

“Don’t run off,” he snapped. “You’re sitting right here with me, all pretty like that.”

You steeled yourself. “Then I don’t want you touching me like that. We’re not an item, Bellamy.”

“I don’t care,” he huffed back. “I’ll touch you however I want.”

The music of the party, the chattering voices slurred with alcohol, faded completely around Law as he watched the argument unfold before his eyes. The only sounds entering his ear drums were the disgusting words leaving Bellamy’s mouth, the demands, the insults. The dim lights of the living room did very little to hide the way your face contorted in discomfort, trying to pull away from the blonde athlete even more.

“Bellamy, I said no,” you snapped.

No one seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening, all eyes everywhere but where they should have been. When you were being closed in on by a man much larger than you, no one was looking. You were alone.

And Law was somehow so far away.

“I don’t remember ever needing to listen to you,” the hyena chortled, his voice gravelly and nasally. “You should be lucky that you have a guy like me who’s into you. You’ll never be able to do better than me.”

You opened your mouth once more to shout a retort, but you were cut short. Bellamy’s clenched fist connected with your lower jaw, swiftly knocking you to the ground in a stunned shock. You fell like a lead brick, hitting the ground with a force that Law somehow felt through the soles of his shoes, rattling his bones and making his head spin. Your hands blindly scraped against the floor searching for your bearings, completely disoriented from the blow that had just met your bone. You brought one of your hands to your mouth, cupping your palm over your lips as your eyes closed, trying to block out every overwhelming color and sound filling your brain with a nuclear buzz.

And yet. No one. Noticed.

Law cleared the floor in an instant, just as Bellamy was yelling something about your worth being determined by your partnership with him. The fist inked with DEATH clocked the blonde in the temple, the short, stubbly blonde hairs leaving phantom singing pain on Law’s fingers. The hyena stumbled backward, catching himself on the arm of the sofa you were previously sitting on.

For a brief moment, the med student was gloatingly proud of himself. His father was a retired marine after all. Law knew a thing or two about a good punch. His thoughts were quickly retired, however, as he crossed the crowded floor to your side, quickly helping you to your feet and pushing through the crowd with you hunched over in his arms, tripping over your heels as he rapidly escorted you to the door.

Don’t cause a scene.

Bellamy didn’t follow, and Law counted his blessings. “Hey, your apartment’s on this street, right?”

With a hand still cupped over your mouth, you nodded. Your eyes were barely keeping themselves open, what was visible of your face contorted in a muted agony.

If Law was any less collected, he would’ve stomped that hyena’s face in with the heel of his boot.

The two of you were barely getting anywhere with your afflicted state. Law scooped you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his hips and free hand clenching the soft fabric of his shirt as he carried you back to your apartment with one of his arms carefully supporting your rump. Thank goodness you lived so close, in a converted townhouse on the corner of the same street. Law still lived in on-campus housing across town, which was less than ideal for his tastes. He helped you fish your key from the pocket of your pants, keeping you in his grasp while he pushed the door open and entered the narrow entryway of your home. Your roommate was gone for the week visiting family on the other side of the country, so your place was completely dark and quiet.

Law flipped the light switch on just in time to watch you scurry to the first floor bathroom as soon as your feet touched the hard wooden floor, leaving the door open as the light in the smaller space flicked on as well. He quickly followed, standing in the doorway as you finally pulled your hand away from your mouth.

A few droplets of blood were dotting your palm, but when you opened your mouth, a worryingly large glob of bright crimson exited past your lips and splattered in the white porcelain of the sink. Law’s stomach lurched as he watched you try in vain to spit out the metallic liquid, your entire face scrunching up as the nauseating sensation and taste. Your shoulders shuddered with the feeling of your gag reflex bobbing in the back of your throat, forcing your stomach to hold its contents as you released drops of bright red into the white porcelain of the wash basin.

The med student’s first thought was that one or more of your teeth had been knocked loose or even came out permanently, but nothing solid landed in the sink. As you began to calm down from your spitting into the basin, your eyes began to well with overwhelmed tears. You gazed at Law in the mirror, his golden eyes locked on yours as a small dribble of blood and spit slid down the skin of your chin.

Wordlessly, your friend stepped into the bathroom with you, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and wetting it with warm water from the tap, wiping away the bloody drool that left your lips.

“I know it hurts, but I need you to open for me,” he muttered, gently holding your cheek in his hand as the other one balled up the toilet paper and discarded it into the open toilet bowl.

When you opened, Law reached into the back pocket of his speckled jeans and procured his phone, clicking on the flashlight without looking at his screen. He shined the light into your mouth and, to his relief, didn’t see any chipped, broken, or missing teeth. He did, however, see a substantial gash on the side of your tongue. You must have clamped down hard on the muscle with your teeth thanks to the force of the punch. The thought made a silent rage build in Law’s gut. He turned you around and closed the toilet lid, sitting you down and proceeding to rummage through your medicine cabinet.

He handed you two pieces of gauze wrap from below your sink. “I need you to hold these against the cut on your tongue, okay? Don’t remove them until I say so.”

You diligently followed his orders, taking the dry cloth from him and inserting it painfully into your mouth to rest on the stinging wound that cut your muscle. You watched as he continued to rummage through your supplies, pushing aside boxes of tampons and toilet cleaning chemicals and finally finding what he was hoping he would see- a brown plastic bottle. He stood from his crouching position, the bottle in his firm grasp. He spun the item around to gaze at its expiration date and hummed approvingly under his breath. He quickly exited the bathroom, leaving you alone for a few fleeting moments.

While he was gone, you were able to take a better look at your face. While one of your cheeks was puffed up slightly with the clump of gauze against your tongue, you could still make out the swelling of your skin on the same side. A large, black and blue bruise was quickly blooming along your jaw and up your cheek, your fractured capillaries leaking into your epidermis.

Law finally returned, a very small cup in his right hand and a bottle of diluted bleach in his left from the kitchen. You watched as he poured a small amount of clear liquid from the brown bottle into the small cup before running the sink tap and filling it the rest of the way with plain water. He handed the cup to you with no instructions before lightly spritzing the porcelain basin with the diluted chemical, running the tap once more and washing your blood away, making sure to scrub the entire bowl. He finally turned around to face you.

“I need you to swish that in your mouth for a few seconds, and then spit it out in the sink,” he directed. “It might taste kind of bitter.”

You carefully pulled the gauze out of your mouth, wincing as some of the light fibers pulled against your wounded muscle, but followed his directions and tossed the contents of the small cup back into your mouth, swishing with your cheeks puffed, trying to focus the liquid onto your wound. Just as Law warned, the taste was bitter, vaguely salty, but definitely not pleasant. Law finally stepped aside from the sink after a long 30 seconds and let you spit. Both the gauze and the clear solution you rinsed your mouth with were lacking blood, meaning your wound was already on the clotting and healing path.

After sputtering for a few moments, the faint smell of diluted bleach filling your nose from the sink, you placed the cup down on the counter and gazed at Law, who watched you with a keen eye. “What was that?”

“Hydrogen peroxide and water,” he uttered. “To disinfect your tongue. Luckily, peoples’ mouths tend to heal much faster than other body parts, so after a day or two of discomfort, you should be back to normal.”

Cleaned and disinfected, you finally started to let your mind sink on the gravity of the situation, your heart rate increasing and your eyes once again growing heavy and blurry with impending tears. You watched as Law, avoiding your gaze with a deep frown on his lips, grabbed your rinse cup from the counter and turned to head back to your kitchen. You quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt sleeve to stop him in his tracks, the fuzziness of your vision causing the colors of his form in front of you to waver and warp, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his lean torso in a hug, the warm wetness from your eyes soaking the cotton of his clothing.

“Please don’t leave,” you uttered into his chest, your body trembling. With the adrenaline finally subsiding, the pain radiating from your jaw grew more and more noticeable. Every movement seemed to irritate your bruised bone, and talking felt like trying to articulate with a lead weight attached to your mandible.

With your face smushed into his clothing, you didn’t see when Law placed the cup back down on your counter, only hearing the soft tap of the plastic against the linoleum surface. His arms carefully, as if to not shatter you where you stood, wrapped around your waist, one hand coming to rest comfortably in between your shoulder blades, his fingers sprawling out over your spine before retracting and collecting some of the fabric from your own shirt into his inked fingers. It felt like his hand was made specifically to bring you comfort.

—

It took some time for you to calm yourself down enough to relocate from the bathroom doorway to the small living space you typically shared with your roommate when she was home. You listened with your head resting on a soft pillow and an ice pack nursing your jaw as Law busied himself between your bathroom and kitchen, washing the cup, cleaning off the bathroom counter and sink for a second time, and disposing of the small garbage bag where your bloody gauze had ended up. Your living room was dark, with the only light coming from the kitchen, just enough to catch glimpses of Law’s shadow moving about the space. Your face ached from the force of crying against your bruised jaw bone, your eyelids uncomfortably sliding over your corneas, dry and fragile after expelling what was easily the rest of the water in your body.

After what felt like an eternity, Law finally emerged from the kitchen, carefully approaching your laid out form on the couch. He kneeled in front of you and adjusted the ice pack against your cheek slightly, the tenderness of his fingers ghosting over your own. Your heart galloped in your chest.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess,” you groaned, forcing your dry eyes closed to avoid Law’s pensive stare.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I acted on my own,” he replied stoically, his hand remaining within close proximity to your own. His tattooed fingers flexed a few times, eager to take your hand in his, but he eventually relented and let his limb fall back to his side.

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, curling your legs up toward your chest. “But you could’ve gotten hurt.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek at your words, his own chest clenching in disdain, not for you, but for the hyena that had left you feeling such a way. “I don’t care if I get hurt if it means you stay safe.”

When your eyes opened, they were small. Weak. Like you had been fighting some unknown battle in your skull for as long as you could remember. You truly looked tired and ragged, and Law wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms until all your life’s woes flushed away like the aftermath of a rainstorm.

“Law…” you began, your mouth opening and closing a few times, at a loss for what to continue with. “I never really liked Bellamy.”

The man stayed quiet, his lips pulled in a taut line.

“But sometimes, when you get really uncomfortable, all you can do is laugh and smile. Because you hope that acting friendly and cordial and cute will keep you safe from danger.” Your voice was so fragile, your words mumbled as you continued to cradle your jaw with the thawing ice pack against your skin. “I never wanted to hang out with Bellamy, but he scared me so much and I just… didn’t know how to say no. I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Again.

Law’s own jaw clenched, suppressing a bubbling rage as he relived the blonde’s actions from a few hours prior. A deep-rooted maniacal side of the medical student wished he could gut the D-1 athlete in his sleep, but what good would that do? It certainly wouldn’t help you in the way you needed it. And the fact that your attempts to protect yourself had only led you to getting attacked in the first place made his blood boil in his veins. But he needed to stay calm for you. Anger solves no issues. He learned that from Cora, his best friends, and now you.

A bout of anger got you out of the situation you were stuck in, and now you needed comfort.

“What…” he began, stumbling. “What do you want from me? To help you?”

After a few brief moments of silence, the only sound cutting through the darkness being the faint wrrr of your air conditioning unit, you finally spoke up. “Can you spend the night with me?”

Law blinked once, then twice. “Here?”

“Yeah. In my room.”

He gazed at you through the darkness, his golden eyes widened. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

You emitted a small gust of air through your nose. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Fair enough. “Do you have anywhere you want me to sleep?” he asked, helping you sit up against the couch cushions and carefully easing the ice back off of your jaw. The swelling had gone down substantially, but it would still take a week or two for the bruise to fully heal.

One of your hands remained planted against his shoulder, gripping the cotton of his shirt. “In my bed. I feel safe with you, Law. It’s really okay.”

After receiving your words of affirmation, Law stood from his crouched position and guided you to stand through the darkness, his hand in yours and the other clutched around the ice pack. He discarded the item on your kitchen counter to be dealt with in the morning, keen on getting you comfortable under your secure blankets. You gladly followed him, stepping carefully through the dark home into your bedroom where you blindly navigated to your bedside lamp, pulling down on the cord to activate the light. The warm orange glow flooded the room, making the two of you squint your eyes.

Law could finally see just how bad your bruise really was. A large, black and blue swollen welt tinged with red the exact size of a harshly clenched fist was carved across your skin. The sight of the impact was much more swollen compared to the other side. You had taken a hit most street thugs hadn’t ever dealt with.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it,” you asked, voice still paper-thin and anxious.

“It’s… definitely a decent injury,” Law responded bluntly, inwardly cursing himself at his awkward language.

You didn’t hold it against him, however. Instead, you stripped off your clothes, crawling into bed and leaving the other side open for Law.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, one more time.

You nodded. “Yes.”

Law followed your initial lead, taking off his jeans, followed by his shirt and socks, leaving only his boxers covering him. He carefully crawled into the space in your blankets you had left open for him, laying on his back like a plank with his hands awkwardly draped over his abdomen. You pulled down on the cord to your lamp once more and flooded the room with darkness.

The med student felt the mattress dip as you moved closer to him, effortlessly draping yourself over his body, as if you were made to fit into the crevice of his neck. His hands found their position around your back and waist yet again, surrounding you in the comfort you had been longing for all night. You nestled your face into the soft skin of his neck, slow, deep breaths setting a hypnotic, drowsy pace for the both of you to fall into slumber.

No words had to be exchanged, not until the morning at least. Your legs tangled together and your hearts beating in sync did all the talking for now.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #request fics

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 12 days

Note

imagining a situation where for whatever reason you absolutely need to be sat on the ghoul’s lap (like, due to lack of space/seating or something) and he gets the sick idea to bounce his knee once after you’re sat on him for a bit. y’know, trying to make it seem unintentional/like a muscle jerk or something.

but fully knowing exactly what it may do to you, and wanting to see…he’s beyond thrilled when it immediately elicits an involuntary moan😏

Close Quarters

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,429

Warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, very sweaty fucking around, mild choking, slight dubcon if you squint.

Notes: Anon, you're just like me (I am also embarrassingly into knee and thigh riding)! Thank you for the excellent submission.

Apologies for the delay in getting this out! I'm so relieved to be back at home, finally, as I wasn't able to be as productive when traveling as I'd hoped. Please enjoy.

You were going to tear Cooper a new one the second the two of you got out of here.

It had been his idea, after all, to veer off the road in your latest trek to nose around this place, which hadn't seemed all that interesting to you. Your business partner had been quite unrelenting, as in all things, despite your inability to see anything of immediate value in the area; some hulking old rusty machinery you couldn't identify, train tracks partially buried in the sand. Boxes of blasting supplies, long emptied. It appeared to be an abandoned mining facility upon first glance, but was difficult to tell, as you had barely had a chance to actually look around before things had suddenly gotten crazy.

It was his fault the two of you were stuck here now.

The old man was absolutely insistent that he'd glimpsed a deathclaw (which you'd read had a special propensity towards mines and quarries, and had told him as much just the night before) just over the nearby hill; you hadn't been looking in the proper direction to confirm when he'd grabbed you by the arm and yanked you into this...storage closet? Frankly, you weren't even sure it was large enough to pass as that, more like a coat closet with a single wooden box on the floor. The two of you were crammed as physically close as possible without touching, mostly due to the great efforts you were taking to balance yourself against the wall as carefully as you could. It was incredibly claustrophobic.

It was also unbearably hot, but apparently only for you; as you cast another unamused glance at him, the third in maybe twice as many minutes, you couldn't help but notice how his only annoyance seemed to be boredom. His eyes lazily scanned back and forth between the small holes in the wall like he was watching out for mole rats. You, on the other hand, were convinced you were about five minutes away from sweating yourself to death, your knees aching worse than they did most nights after miles and miles of walking, the pain setting deep into your bones. It was making you squirmy, your thighs and quadriceps flexing and relaxing as you tried your best to hover above your companion's leg, his body crowded so close behind yours. You'd been traveling together for months now, and he was much more comfortable with you than he ever had been, but you still wanted to respect his space...

...a courtesy which he didn't always afford you.

Something about Cooper Howard that you hadn't been anticipating when you started to grow closer was just how much of a filthy tease the man was. Despite his rather rough exterior, the old cowboy could be very charming, a side of him you saw more and more as your travels went on, and, as a result, you'd developed quite the embarrassing little crush on him. An additional heat crept up the nape of your neck as you thought on it, adding to the untenable swelter around you.

Once you'd propositioned him for sex. Once! How were you supposed to know that people on the surface didn't generally approach their casual hook ups that way? He'd laughed until you thought he'd be sick, your face red as a Nuka Cola sign the entire time.

You thought that had been that, and it was all you'd needed to assume that he simply wasn't attracted to you in that way. It stung some, but whatever, life goes on. So you'd soldiered on, trying to keep your head low the next few days to avoid making him uncomfortable, desperate to not lose his companionship due to an awkward misunderstanding, but that's when the teasing began in earnest. He took very apparent glee in crowding you in, getting into your face or into your ear, murmuring in that soft tone that made you crazy and turned your cheeks pink, only to almost immediately pull away, his demeanor as if nothing had even happened.

Whether he did this because there was any real intent behind it or simply because he enjoyed embarrassing you and making you squirm, you hadn't the faintest idea. You chastised him when he did it, but ultimately you couldn't really conceal the way the attention from him still made your heart race and your panties damp. Heck, the way the ferals seemed to be able to pick up on your scent from a mile out, you wouldn't be shocked to learn he could smell when you were aroused. Just another small humiliation to throw on the pile.

The damn space was already small in total dimension, made even worse by the fact that a shelf up top cut off a lot of the total height, forcing Cooper to stoop and bend awkwardly, the desire to stay silent keeping him hunched over you for several minutes before he slowly, slowly slid down onto the box, eventually reclining somewhat, bending his neck to and fro to peek out the various rust spots and bullet holes in the metallic siding. Your Pip-Boy didn't register any nearby movement, but that didn't always inspire confidence in situations like this.

This whole thing was miserable, but being torn limb from limb by a deathclaw would be worse, so you continued your infinite wall-lean, trying hard to remain silent as you wiped the sweat from your brow for the millionth time. Behind you, he seemed to relax a little further, his knee sliding slightly along the inside of your thigh. A shiver broke up your spine.

Eventually, your trembling, aching legs fully gave out, forcing you to allow your full weight to straddle the knee that was poking out from between your knees, pressing down directly at the apex your thighs. You tried your best to rest towards one foot or the other to keep your weight off of his thigh, but his hands quickly found your hips and stilled your movement.

The pressure from sitting this way had already begun to make your slit swell, increasing in sensitivity as the time continued to pass, but it was ignorable. Then, slowly but surely, and to your absolute horror, Cooper's leg began to jiggle, the slight movement rocking you back and forth ever so slightly until your clit began to ache. Now, you'd never seen him fidget before, but you'd also never seen the man have to cram himself into a shoe box, so you gave him some mild benefit of the doubt.

But the jiggling quickly became a problem, the heat between your legs quickly equaling the heat in the room, leaving you breathing with noticeable volume. You buried your face into your chest as best as you could to try and hide the sound of your labored huffing, but the man behind you was quick to let you know that you were failing.

"Keep it quiet, kid." he chastised you in a hushed voice, but his hands stayed glued to your hips, balancing you right back onto his thigh, shifting your weight right to where you were trying to avoid placing it. You cleared your throat as another wave of heat swam through your gut, your companion continuing to move his leg up and down as the wind and sand hissed against the walls. Increasingly, you were nervous to look at him, afraid he would call you out for deriving some sort of sick pleasure from his innocent movements, accuse you of endangering both of your lives for some fleeting sexual gratification.

However, that moment never came, only more rocking and more huffing. Eventually, you began to slip further down towards his knee, struggling to fully support your weight any longer. His thigh jerked upwards, bouncing you several inches backwards and pressing hard into your swollen bud, drawing out a high pitched yelp that made you sound like a wounded animal. If you didn't know better, you'd have thought you felt him grin against the sweaty back of your neck.

"Hush." he said, tone thinner this time, but his hands began busily working your body as he slid you up and down. Two fingers worked their way into one of your belt loops, pushing and pulling you fully; the other traced teasingly along the damp, exposed skin of your belly at your belt line, and the feeling made you moan in earnest shock.

The leather of his gloves was shockingly soft against your damp skin as he suddenly let it jump up just above your breasts, the heel of his hand brushing at your cleavage as it slipped higher and higher, firmly clasping at your throat. You were still able to breathe, since he wasn't really choking you, but the grip he maintained below your jaw meant that he basically had full control of your body, pulling you back quickly and easily until you were snug against his chest, his cracked lips brushing the sensitive shell of your ear.

"If you can't keep that mouth shut, I'll find another use for it." he whispered, continuing to tug at your belt loops and your sanity. Your throbbing pussy clenched around nothing at his dirty talk, so much realer than ever before. You knew now that his teasing came from a genuine place, at least; you could very clearly feel the shape of his hardening cock against your ass.

You were tempted to test his claim, to whine out again fully and see what he would slip into your mouth. But instead you clamped your lips between your teeth so hard that you wondered if the chapped flesh would bleed, finally giving in and letting your hips cant ever so slightly against his leg as he continued to bounce his knee, the motion becoming quite exaggerated as the minutes continued to tick by.

The idea of any looming danger outside was quickly becoming lost among the static, the pretense of accidental squirming rapidly melting away; your brain felt runny, loose, and it was difficult to you to keep a logical train of thought for long, but it did occur to you that the two of you were basically fooling around in a closet. If you'd been coherent at all, you'd have wondered how he would react towards you when this whole awful, delicious thing was over, or even how it would end, but coherence was long lost to you as you barreled towards something amazing.

"Please, I...you have to stop..." you whispered desperately, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you felt the incredibly tense muscles in your abdomen start to flutter. If he didn't know what he'd been doing, he knew now, and his leg didn't stop for a single second, not even a falter in his movements as you began unashamedly moving your hips as far back and forth as you could reach, the firm muscle of him stimulating you so perfectly. A frantic little whimper escaped your lips, which your left hand jumped to cover, your teeth sinking into your palm you danced right up to the edge, your empty cunt gripping feverishly at nothing.

"Coop. Please." you begged, but you were unsure if you were begging him to stop or to let you finish.

He granted you the latter, both hands sliding right back down to your hips, pressing your weight hard down into him as you both worked your body back and forth, once, twice, and a final time as your head fell slack against his shoulder, his lips at the side of your throat as you came completely apart in his lap, limbs twitching, teeth pulling a tear in your dry lower lip as you bit down on it hard to hide your moans. Vaguely, you were aware of the feeling of him rocking his erection against your backside, his breathing almost as heavy as yours.

"Good girl." you swore you heard him mumble, but chalked it up to your overstimulated, spinning brain simply making you hear what you wanted to hear.

For maybe a minute, you allowed yourself the indulgence of resting against him, struggling to slow your heaving breaths. Slowly, you leaned forward once more, curling yourself into a half-ball with your head as far between your knees as you could manage until you no longer felt light headed. At some point, your companion regained his composure, his tone not strained or breathy in the slightest when he spoke to you again.

"Well," he said, suddenly back at his regular volume and causing you to jump slightly, "I think we can get out of here."

You twisted back to look at him, but before you could lock eyes, he was already lifting you by your hips to force you to stand on your shaky legs, pulling himself up to a crouch as he tugged the door open. You flinched, stumbling a bit as you attempted to conceal yourself behind the wall, but you peered back out when he confidently strode out past you, bending and turning at the waist as his spine let out a series of loud cracks and pops. Behind him, you struggled to stand fully upright, attempting to fix the fit of your clothing from where it had been tugged on.

"C'mon, let's go." he called over his shoulder, not turning to look at you fully as he trekked forward towards the hill you'd spent what felt like ages fearing as if it were nothing but another pile of dirt to be crossed.

"Shouldn't we try to go the long way around outta here? What if they're still over there, just not close enough to pick up on?" you called, concerned once more now that the flow of blood had generally returned to your brain. Everywhere around you, you felt imaginary danger, ready for anything to jump out from anywhere, as nothing had actually changed the whole time you'd been hidden away.

That got him to stop and turn to look back at you, an incredibly impish look playing across his face.

"I get the feeling it'll be alright." he winked before resuming his climb up the fairly steep incline, sand rolling down in little rivulets behind his retreating feet.

You lagged behind a bit, watching him go through narrowed eyes. Turning your gaze towards the setting sun, you mused to yourself that soon, the two of you would need to stop for the night. The roads through here were too dangerous to travel at night.

He would have some turnabout coming his way, you knew that for certain. Your days of being teased were about to be done.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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tarjapearce · 10 months

Note

Now I’m curious of how wife!reader and Miguel meets again 😭 and how they started dating. Do they meet again at a different hosted party and Miguel asks her for a dance this time ((and her name 💀))

🤭🤭 Actually

Pt. 3

The whistling from the referee echoed through as the men on the field began playing. Jessica, once more, had kidnapped you after finding you were in a blue mood after you got ditched in a date.

"Never going through Tinder again." you had mumbled as she offered you tissues.

But of course, partially the reason why you had came was

1. Shirtless men playing

2. Jessica and another red headed woman and you, were in charge of the water and refreshing drinks.

You found out that Mary Jane Watson was her name, or MJ for shorts was dating Peter, the guy that had hosted the carneada. She was pretty easygoing. However, the familiar hulking figure running through the field stood out like a sore thumb.

"Hey" You name was called by Jessica that followed your eyes and smirked

"Oh, that's Miguel."

"I know. Met him at the party remember?"

"Heard he has a girlfriend. But doubt it. "

You shrugged.

"Okay? He just helped me out a little."

"Hmm."

A little disappointment settled in your chest.

In any case, your attention was snapped back to the field and the little ruckus on the field. Miguel was held by Peter and another man called Ben, as the rival player kept provoking him. Gabriel pulled him back.

"Oh, Drácula is pissed"

"You kidding? They're playing dirty." MJ spoke, concern plastered all over her face as Peter tried to calm the situation.

You watched from the water station, eyes following the ball, but they couldn't help but to land on Miguel. Shirt soaked in sweat, hair down, some strands sticking to his forehead, and neck, pouty mouth panting and cursing.

"Pasámela, pendejo!" (Pass it, you dumbass! )

A giggle escaped from you as he pinched his nose bridge with one hand. He moved but the crowd gasped. One minute he was walking away and the next he was on the floor, cursing and limping. His knee was scrapped and it bled. The good thing was that the guy that had injured him, got a red card.

"Do you happen to have any first aid kit by any chance?" Peter approached as Jess and MJ shook their heads.

"I think I have one in my car. I'll get it."

Peter smiled and went back to Miguel, mahogany eyes immediately following your form.

When you approached him, he had removed his shirt to dry the sweat off his forehead, to then slick his hair back. Eyes staring at you with a little smirk.

"Pitufina, eres tú?" (Smurfette is that you?)

"In the flesh, Gargamel."

You both chuckled as you sat before him, he was about to wipe the caked blood and dirt with his sweaty shirt. Your hand slapped his away

"¿Estás loco? Se te va a infectar!" (You're crazy? It'll get infected)

"It's just a scrap"

"Cállate. God, your girlfriend must be a saint to put up with you."

A swab of cotton was soaked in alcohol, he quirked an eyebrow at your words and chuckled.

"No tengo-" (I don't have-)

He hissed as your hand wiped the blood first. The chemical stung on his raw skin, but seeing you focused, a little furrow on your pretty face made the sting to slowly fade . You then grabbed a gauze and wiped gently the excess of fluid.

You looked up at him and pursed your lips

"So I can..."

"Sorry, Out of game for now." You laughed at his words and shook your head.

"Who said I wanted to?" He chuckled at yours

"No, I was meaning to do this without remorse." You sprayed him some antiseptic and he batted your hands away with a mild panic expression, as the initial burn was a bit too much.

"Hija de la chin-" (Son of a-)

You laughed. as he fanned the scrap

"Esa mierda arde!" (That shit burns!)

"Ay, no estés de llorón. It's just a scrap remember? " (Don't be a cry baby)

"Not fucking funny" He grumbled as you gave him a bottle of water and a towel. His fingers brushed against yours, the touch lingering for a bit longer than it should.

"For me it is. I'll put a gauze on it okay?

"Déjalo así" (Leave it like that)

"No. It's too fresh for you to keep it exposed"

He was about to bat yout hands away when you loomed the antiseptic spray directly on his wound. He stopped and frowned, a finger trying to threaten you.

"Cuidadito" (Careful)

"Haz caso entonces." (Do as you're told, then)

You just glared at eachother.

"Get a room already." Gabriel casually mumbled as he picked another bottle of water. The rest just looked your way with silent mirth. They had been watching cautiously the interaction between the two of you.

The comment instantly made you pout, a soft flush on your cheeks. Gabriel left.

"Ese pendejo..." (That dumbass)

He grumbled and scratched his neck awkwardly.

"Anyways..." You sighed and applied some vaseline at the wound. Your hands were gentle, caring and soft.

"Pitufina"

You grumbled your name as you finished covering his wound.

"Right." He nodded with a tiny smile

Silence.

You were putting the things back in the kit. Eyes following your every motion, you were nervous. He smirked

"Wanna go... and get some food later? My treat"

He blinked at your sudden question. All smugness vanishing from him.

"After you've taken a shower and changed of course" You giggled and looked up at him.

His heart beat a bit faster and he gulped almost imperceptibly.

"Si quieres, claro" (If you want to, that is)

You smirked with a shrug. His mouth gaped softly

"¿Es un si? " (Is that a yes?)

He just nodded, still a little shaken from what just happened.

"Bueno, Adiós Drácula." (Well, see you)

You left after patting his thigh gently, His ears went a little pink.

He didn't see that coming at all. He smiled inwardly. Yeah, he'd better step his game up. He was rusted, but you'd definitely worth the shot.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#miguel atsv #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #t writes✨

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loveharlow · 8 months

Text

'TIL DEATH

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [2k] You realize just how unstable your summer fling turned boyfriend is...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, murder, mentions of blood, mild crude humor, gaslighting, manipulation, co-dependency, violence, mentions of broken bones

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ

YOU STOOD IN SHOCK. Bewildered at the sight in front of you. No, no, that word wasn’t even enough to describe the pure terror your eyes were laid upon. You could feel the tips of your fingers shaking, your knees were weak, and tears burned the edge of your waterline.

He called your name as he attempted to step towards you but you cringed, folding in on yourself by an inch but enough for him to stop in his movements. “Don’t…” You started, your voice was meek and feeble, cracking under your emotions. “Don’t come near me.” You cried.

You were at some kook kickback in a cabin built in a clearing, it was someone's birthday. You had no idea whose. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Rafe — your boyfriend. You’d gotten together with him during the early days of summer and it was the most unexpected thing of your life. You knew of him, of course you did. Who didn’t? But up until three months ago, you weren’t even sure he knew the first letter of your name.

You’d had your fair share of fun — late night talks, car rides, food runs, sex. Lots of sex. He was your summer fling and you were actually starting to fall for him. Which is why you let him drag you out of your house tonight. Where parties appeared, Rafe followed. But you hated going to parties with Rafe. He’d always abandon you for a prolonged time and return to you only to be drunk or high. It wasn’t something you were fond of but you weren’t here to change anyone.

But maybe you should’ve been.

When he’d disappeared this time, you went to get a drink for yourself, bumping into a random touron at the alcohol littered table. He complimented your dress and asked your name and you... entertained him for lack of better phrase. You couldn’t even call it flirting, you were just lonely and it was nice to talk to someone else at this party who didn’t know anyone either. After a few minutes of idle conversation, you excused yourself when you decided Rafe had been gone longer than usual.

You searched for him in the bathroom, the kitchen, even some of the bedrooms upstairs and still nothing. You sighed and sat your cup down God knows where, pulling down your mini dress where it rode up from your fast-paced wandering. You walked outside of the house and closer to the bulk of trees where the clearing became more of an actual forest, pulling your phone from your bra and pressing Rafe’s contact. Bringing the device to your ear as you wandered further into the tree-crowded area, you could’ve sworn you heard his phone ringing not too far from where you were standing.

Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion when you heard leaves ruffling and after an abnormally short amount of rings, the call went to voicemail. You looked down at your phone, the small object your only good source of light. You called again, this time not bothering to put the phone to your ear, instead listening out to see if the ringing came again.

And it did, prompting you to edge further into the woods. “Rafe?” You called, softly but loud enough. Leaves and branches crunched under your heels, the shoes making it harder to navigate the thick terrain. The further in you went towards the ringing sound, you could hear frantic shuffling and a string of curses — someone was out here, that you knew for sure.

When you finally reached the source of the sound, it took you a moment to realize what exactly was going on. The first thing you saw was his face, a smile growing on your own, ready to ask why he was all the way out here. But you didn’t get that chance when he turned to look at you, revealing the blood splattered all across the left side of his face. You felt your smile drop and your eyes seemed to take in the scene before you in its entirety — Rafe kneeled on a pile of leaves, covered in blood with his hands clutching his phone that had long stopped making noise, and a body. An unmoving, non-breathing, beaten body not even a foot from where your boyfriend kneeled in the dirt.

You didn’t even notice you had dropped your phone, not until you took a step back out of fear when Rafe rose to his feet, accidentally stepping on and breaking the device with your heel.

He called your name as you slowly shook your head, you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You felt hot and cold at the same time, but more than anything you were terrified.

“Hey,” He called, hands out in front of him as if that would quell your anxiousness. He was taking slow steps towards you. Your fight-or-flight kicked in on instinct as you made an attempt to turn the other way and make a run for it.

But he was much taller than you, his legs carried him greater distances. So needless to say, he caught up to you before you made it much of anywhere at all. His arms wrapped around you tightly from behind and you could feel the wetness and warmth of the blood on his hands smear across your arms.

“No! Get off of me! Get OFF! GET OFF!-”

“Stop, just listen-”

“Get your fucking hands off of me! HELP-”

“Stop it-”

“SOMEONE HELP ME-”

“Dammit! Shut up!” He yelled into your ear, jerking you around. Rafe clasped a bloody hand over your mouth, the smell and the little bit of the substance that hit your tongue making you want to vomit. You choked on your own sobs as he dragged you back to where the body laid lifeless on the soil. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it — clearly a guy from the haircut and the shoulders and you swore he looked familiar but you couldn’t see his face. You didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to know who your boyfriend just murdered.

You didn’t even fully register when Rafe released you from his grasp, just briefly, in order you pin your frame against the length of a tree. His hand still covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself down, your sobs turning into never ending sniffles. Your own hands clawed at the bark of the tree as you tried to ground yourself.

“I’m going to move my hand, alright?” Rafe started, his eyes running wild. “If you scream, I’m going to hurt you. And I don’t want to hurt you, so…” He trailed, making sure you understood what he was alluding to. Slowly, he removed the hand covering your mouth, the skin that was covered going cold in the night air from the blood that was no doubt smeared across your face.

At this realization, you wiped at your face like a mad woman, only stopping when you realized the blood was now on your hands. A dead man’s blood was on your hands. Your gaze snapped to Rafe’s, then the body, then to Rafe again. Your breaths were heavy and labored. You were scared. And angry. And disgusted.

“What the fuck did you do?!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Keep my- keep my voice down?” You hissed. He was too calm — and it angered you. It made you want to kill him. Your hands balled into fists as Rafe just stood there, a hand in his hair but he didn’t look stressed or worried. Truthfully, he looked annoyed. “Is he…”

Rafe sighed and turned to look at you like an idiot. “Oh, he’s just taking a nap.” He spoke with no humor in his voice. “Yes, he’s dead. You think he’s resting? In the middle of the woods? And what, using his blood as a blanket to keep himself warm-”

“Don’t talk to me like some kind of child. I didn’t kill someone-”

“You did, though.” He chuckled. "Oh, but you did." You narrowed your eyes at him, silently waiting for him to elaborate. “I saw you. Flirting with him, giggling at whatever dumbass lines he was feeding you-”

“Oh my God!” You couldn’t help but laugh. Nothing was funny but you couldn’t stop laughing. You folded in on yourself, laughing until your laughs turned to sobs. Angry sobs. Shooting back up to your full height, you charged at Rafe. Pushing his shoulders so hard he stumbled back. “You…stupid…fucking…” You cursed in between each assault. Pushing him until he’d had enough and ceased your wrists. “Are you fucking kidding me? I can handle the coke, okay?” You started, the terror you felt before creeping back into your veins as he eyed you down but you kept talking anyway, no matter how shaky your voice got. “I can handle the coke a-and the alcohol and the fighting. But you just killed someone for talking to me. Do you realize how deranged that is?”

“He isn’t the first.”

…

“What?”

“The dweeb on the ground? He isn’t the first person I’ve killed for you.” The way he spoke with such disgust for an innocent being and endearment for his actions sent a chill down your spine. He said it like killing someone for you was a gift to you.

You knew Rafe wasn’t the most stable individual — in between the good moments, he had some incidents this summer. Fights and squabbles here and there. But you never thought he could hurt someone like this.

“...You need help.” You started, the tears rolling again as you tried to pull yourself out of his grip. You were shaking your head vigorously as you spoke. “You’re insane. You’re crazy!”

Rafe attempted to quiet your cries, opting for his hands to roughly cradle your face now, wiping your tears away. He was shushing you and trying to pull you in closer to him but you wouldn’t allow it. Eventually, the push-and-pull caused you both to fall onto the ground and unfortunately, you had landed partially on top of the dead man’s hand, hearing his bones crush under the impact.

Your head snapped to his now oddly shapen wrist and you let out a gut-wrenching scream and frantically crawled away from the body. Rafe wouldn’t let you get far, though. He was right back in front of you, rubbing your arms while you sobbed.

“It’s okay..” He tried to soothe.

“It’s not! It’s not okay!” You bawled, slapping his hands away. “You’re a bad person, Rafe…” You whimpered, just speaking at this point. You were too emotionally disarranged to even know what to do anymore. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t take Rafe down.

So, in your weak state, you let him embrace you. The action alone made you want to puke. The way he comforted you was so casual, like any other time he’d comforted you for small things. In his mind, this would pass. You’d forget about it and you and him would be fine again. And maybe, in some sick way, you might have to be. You were no stranger to how the law barely existed for the Cameron’s in Kildare.

If you walked into the Sheriff’s Department and told them Rafe Cameron had murdered a man, they’d probably believe you but wouldn’t do a thing about it. Because his last name holds more weight than gold in this town.

“I’ll hide his body and then we’ll get out of here,’kay?” He spoke with his forehead now pressed against yours. When he got no response, he pulled back and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. He didn’t look as caring now. He looked cold. And his voice matched the canvas. “Stop crying.” He spat. “You can either sit here and whine, covered in blood or you can pull yourself together while I get rid of him. Do you understand?” He spoke harshly. You weakly nodded, a response that satisfied him enough.

When he stood up, he called your name once more. “If you even try to run, I’ll make sure that’s the last thing you ever do.”

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#angstober23'#obx rafe #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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pandorasfavorite · 1 month

Text

His Little Girl

AN: First post of the day, definitely not the last. ^Him blowing a kiss to you and his little girl.

“Are you gonna win Papi?”, his daughter blubbers while looking up at him from her spot on the side of his hip. “I’m gonna try for you mija”, Dominik says before kissing the top of her head and passing her back to you. Your daughter clings to you and lays her head on your shoulder with a sleepy smile. It was past her bedtime but Dominik wanted her to watch. He had been waiting many years for his daughter to finally be old enough to understand that her daddy was not actually getting injured at work. She knew that it was just going to look like it. Or at least that’s what Dominik and you told her.

So when it’s time for Dominik’s match, and his music blasts all he can think of is where you guys are standing. Turns out (by the sounds of his baby girl's squeals of joy at seeing him), you were both on the right side of the ring. Dominik got in the ring with a scowl but subconsciously his eyes softened at the sight of you both, he was sure everyone could tell. So he turned his head away from you both as quickly as he could manage, though it did take a while. Your daughter was practically trying to lunge over the barricade to her dad and would whine when he would walk to the other side of the ring.

You loved that she was a daddy’s girl because you loved your husband just as much as her. Dominik hastily blew you both a kiss and went back to waiting for his opponent and entertaining the crowd until then. Through the opponent's intro, her eyes only flickered to Andrade for a second before she was back to staring at Dominik. But when the match starts she is instantly angry when Dominik takes his first hit to the chest. She whips her head up to look at you with a pout and a wobbling lip. You shush and bounce her on your hip; whispering to her that it's okay; that it isn't real. No matter how well you convinced her, Dominik was selling so well that it was nearly impossible for it to seem true. The next move was a kick straight to Dominik's stomach and with that, he doubled over and fell to the floor clutching his stomach.

Your daughter busts into tears so loudly, the camera surely picked up on it. Nearly everyone was turning to see what the commotion was while you were trying to console her the best you could. But at this moment, only her Papi would be able to make her feel better truly. Andrade takes advantage of the distraction and plummets into Dominik again; his wispy hair flies back with his head and Dominik rolls to the side and groans. While he was in just mild pain; his eyes were pinned onto his sobbing baby who was desperately reaching out for him. And there was you with a worried look trying to calm her down and get all the eyes away from your daughter. His baby had waterfalls flowing down her cheeks with a trembling lip.

Dominik couldn't take her tears any longer, he hated it when his little girl cried. In fact when she first got her ears pierced; and he held his baby girl in his lap when they pierced a hole into her little ears; she screamed and sobbed like no other. Dominik was so pissed he was glaring daggers at the piercer and you for even insisting on getting done in the first place. He held his baby tight and gritted his teeth through every sniffle and sob. So of course right now it was driving him to the brink of his mental bridge to not go and get her.

Dominik stood up with all his strength, backhanded Andrade, and slammed him on the ground. All just before he slid out of the rings and walked towards you both with his usually confident stride. He stood in front of the barricade that was separating you guys and he let his little girl hold onto his pinky finger. "I'm right here mi hija, I'm okay baby", he spoke to her in the softest voice he could muster in the moment. Though everyone watching cooed at the sweet moment from the biggest heel in the industry. When he heard their coo Dominik was forced to turn and glare at them rudely (he was still at work after all). Dominik saw Andare from the corner of his eye; it was instinct to keep an eye out after all.

Dominik kissed her on the head and moved his pinky out of her grasp, he told you to take her backstage. He had to deal with Andrade before it was possible to be with you both. Dominik knew he had to make this match quick.

#dominik mysterio x reader #dom dom #dominik mysterio fluff #dominik my bbg #wwe #dominik mysterio smut #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x you #dominik mysterio x reader smut #dominik mysterio fanfiction

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stargirlfics · 6 months

Text

The Gentleman Chapter Six: Tremble

Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader

Summary: Scarecrow threatens to bring Gotham to its knees while you and those you love find yourself caught in the middle

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence, mentions of chemical weapons, anxiety and hallucinations, mild angst and hurt/comfort, competency kink, alfred being a soft dom, smut: soft spanking tw, body worship, oral (reader receiving)

Word Count: 12.0k

This chapter is finally here and I actually cannot believe the journey it has been from when I started working on this, having months of difficulty writing and then I just write this massive chapter! I’m really happy to be sharing it and I hope it’s well worth the wait. I really appreciate and cherish all your comments and love and patience especially on this series, it means so much 🤎

[series masterlist] [series playlist]

At the mercy of impending catastrophe, an entire city was holding its breath in sick anticipation.

News of Scarecrow and his fear toxin was everywhere one went, anxiety climbing with every hushed discussion and passing day without answers.

His motives were still unclear and everyone was trying to decipher the severity of the message he had left: This is Gotham’s only warning. Fear the Scarecrow.

What was to come next? And would you be ready?

Trust in Gotham’s institutions was few and far between for most, though you did feel a little more hopeful with Mayor Bella Reál’s steady presence in public lately—even still, people were bracing themselves.

For you that meant dance rehearsals were still being held so stage time was abundant, the exotic performances and the allure of the Iceberg Lounge were quickly becoming a good means of escape for many in the city.

You wanted to dazzle the audience, satisfied when you could suspend their belief that this was just a dance and convince them nymphs and sirens were real and alive in front of them instead.

It was easy to throw yourself into the work if you thought about it; counting steps and turns while the band played their hearts out.

There was no other competition, the shimmer and sparkle of the costumes, the lingerie underneath even more dazzling, opal pearls and diamonds adorning your lush bodies caught every single eye.

Five, six, seven…a spotlight shines down upon you, such a pretty beacon of desire, of the passion flowering so strongly in your own heart until there’s nothing but you and the music.

You left nothing on that stage at the end of the night.

Especially not when Alfred was in the crowd watching you with an ever growing adoration.

He made the effort to catch a show when he could, waiting with roses for you afterwards and no compliment or praise spared from your ears if he could help it.

It was amazing how much things could shift, how nervous you had been the first time you knew he would be watching and now you welcomed it, relished in his promise to show up for you simply because he thought your talent and love for your artform was worth it, that you were worth it.

And of course how could you forget his handwritten letter with such neat and elegantly written words, the very letter that sat on your nightstand since your date in the bookstore when he presented it to you and made it all official.

You read over it in the late night hours and in the morning when you woke up wishing he was next to you, until you could recite every word he had written by heart. Weeks ago you would have felt anxious about entering a relationship, not wanting to go through heartbreak if your feelings weren’t the same but now you understood Alfred would never let you stand on unsteady ground.

He hadn’t since the first moment your paths collided, the memory of it still so vivid you could practically hear the echo of your pounding footsteps on the concrete hurrying to reach him, taking a chance on a stranger and embracing him out of fear only to come away from it with your pulse racing for an entirely different reason instead.

Something solid and gentle had formed here and you wanted to be cocooned inside of it forever.

Your friends definitely didn’t hide their excitement that you were “basically dating a member of the Wayne family!” as Roxie had put it.

She was the first to tell you she wouldn’t mind at all if you slipped Bruce her number. Bambi was already ride or die for the relationship, as was Amber and then Kiera’s encouragement of all things romance on top of it all certainly made this a fanclub if you’d ever seen one.

Truthfully though their reassurances kept you from letting the tendency to overthink get in the way, making sure you knew that the way Alfred treated you was everything you deserved.

Grateful felt like too simple a word but it’s perhaps the best word to summarize the way you felt about each of them. Elated in how they celebrated this with you, a sing-song chorus of excitement when you told them about his letter in the chat or how everything went after he spent the night at your place for the first time.

It kept you hopeful, appreciating everything you had just a little extra.

Fresh snow dusted the windowsills of The Magpie where you were counting down the time until you’d have your evening free to spend with Alfred.

You would see him in just a few short minutes anyways, with Bruce in tow for a meeting with the mayor and her team but knowing you’d still have some time before you truly got him to yourself left you feeling a little antsy.

The bar had already been wiped down twice and you just checked on the handful of people sitting around for brunch, most of them talking and finishing off their drinks for the time being.

So you settled on people-watching, polishing the crystal whiskey glasses while you did, arranging them in a stacked pyramid and you were almost done with the menial task when Bruce Wayne sidled up to the bar.

“Oh, hey! Can I get you anything, Mr. Wayne?” you greeted him with a smile, doing your best not to make it obvious you were also looking to see if Alfred was nearby.

“Please just call me Bruce, you don’t have to keep it so formal, really I insist. And just coffee if you can.”

“Sorry, habit. I can get you some coffee, any sugar or cream?” you were laughing to yourself a little, forgetting that you didn’t have to address him so properly every time.

You still did that with Alfred sometimes, a ‘Mr. Pennyworth’ at the tip of your tongue on occasion which always came with a playful scolding.

“No thanks, I’ll take it as is,” Bruce corrected, thanking you again when you set the steaming mug down in front of him. “Oh, before I forget. He may have told you this already but when time allows it Alfred likes to try and get Dory and I together for a proper Sunday dinner and if you’re able to this coming weekend, I wanted to try and surprise him.”

Oh, how thoughtful! Quickly realizing he was inviting you to join them in this tradition of theirs made your heart swell and you hastened to accept.

“That sounds so nice! Of course I can be there. Should I bring anything, dessert maybe?”

“Yes, that would be perfect actually. It’ll be nice to have you there..uh, I know we haven’t had much time to speak but thank you, it’s good to see him happy lately and that’s because of you.”

Bruce’s usual shy, reserved tone was more open, a little softer and you felt relief knowing that you had his approval in a way, maybe not wanting to admit to yourself that it had been a quiet worry all this time.

His and Alfred’s relationship was on better working ground now and you didn’t want to complicate that or make it any more difficult for them to connect in the way they needed and it was very clear from the start that they did need each other and cared for one another fiercely.

This was good, really good.

“I’m glad and that’s okay by the way there’s been a lot going on you’re probably just as busy as he is, if not more, I figured we’d get to talk at some point. I really do just want to make him happy and I hope you know he is because of you too, he’s so proud of you.”

Your last few words saw the very rare edge of a smile before he took a sip from the mug, face turning stoic again.

Speaking of Alfred, he walked in the very next moment, as effortlessly handsome as usual. His suit was a crisp charcoal gray, a black tie tucked perfectly into that pristine waistcoat you knew felt smooth under your hands, the familiar gold accents of his wristwatch and cane pulling it all together.

He always looked incredible but god did he have you weak from halfway across the room today, those kind, blue eyes finding you with ease.

Waving him over to the bar, you started making his usual cup of Earl Grey, sharing a sheepish smile when you greeted each other.

“Good to see you, darling. I hope you’ve had an easy morning.” The depth and lull of his voice and that accent sent warmth spreading across your cheeks, distracted from hearing the affection in his tone.

“I have, thank you,” setting his cup of tea down on the bar counter, you leave the milk out for him to pour how he likes, “Hope the meeting goes well, you’re gonna kill it!”

“That’s very nice of you. I imagine it will, what we’re proposing will benefit the city and they seem receptive to Bruce’s ideas, which is all we can ask for.”

Beaming at him you nodded encouragingly, giving yourself a few more moments to talk with the two men before the mayor arrived and they were whisked off to a more private table.

Kiera came in not long after that, you were really just working the morning to fill in for her until she could get here but your plans to leave with Alfred right after his meeting lined up with the timing anyways.

An hour passed ever so slowly, the meeting finally finishing with what looked like good spirits from everyone and before long you were saying your goodbye’s to Bruce since he had to head out while Alfred lagged behind to take a phone call from his office.

Bundled up in your coat, you waited by the hostess stand content to watch the snow flurries begin to fall outside, such a stark contrast to the warm, crimson interior.

Not sure how long you were lost admiring the view, a warm hand slides across your lower back drawing your attention in a gentle caress you’re sure you’d know anywhere.

“Ready to leave?” Alfred held his hand out for you and kissed your knuckles when you fit your palm against his.

The eager nod of your head and the accompanying excited giggle gave you away but you didn’t care to hide how much you’d been looking forward to this evening with him.

“Ready.”

Outside the air was chilly, coats zipped up a little higher while you discussed what the plans were for the rest of the day.

It was still fairly quiet out on the streets, the business sector in this part of the city always a bit more empty than the bustling traffic of downtown that you were used to, at least before dinner rush anyway.

Nothing out of the ordinary piqued your attention until Alfred was pausing mid-sentence, asking if you heard what he had heard.

“No, what-” but no sooner than you had opened your mouth, the faintest recognition of what sounded like a scream could be heard. You flicked your eyes up to him in concern.

Had it really been a scream? Or was the frigid wind playing tricks on you, whistling through the air?

The same sound rang out again somewhere in the distance, only this time you both were able to hear a distinct shout of “HELP!” following it.

The mood had suddenly turned urgent but it was as if you could only move in slow motion until you realized that at this very moment, the other shoe had indeed dropped.

Chaos was the only way to describe it, more shouts piercing the air but nothing prepared you for the wave of people running out into the street in every direction.

You can’t be sure exactly what’s going on or what everyone was running from but the gears were already spinning in your mind and you don’t hesitate to move when Alfred hurriedly nudged you to follow him, clutching onto his jacket as he guided you to cross the street where his car was parked around the corner.

But you wouldn’t make it more than a few steps off the curb.

The flow of the crowd was too dense, too panicked and you were jostled as you tried to keep your feet steady on slick, snowy pavement.

A gasp was knocked loose from your throat when someone shoved past you, upsetting your balance in the process, the impact forcing you to let go of Alfred’s hand.

Fingers flailed but it was no use, you couldn’t move fast enough and soon more people pushed themselves between you on all sides which meant he couldn’t reach you either. You were quickly losing sight of him, legs feeling like lead as you tried to follow the sound of his voice shouting your name but there’s too much noise to filter out.

No, no! Where is he? I can’t see him anymore.

Your heart sank realizing you’d lost him in the crowd, even as frantically as you were searching for him there were so many people dashing past as you also tried to keep moving that you knew it would be impossible to find him like this.

You were separated and on your own.

Now it felt like your sense of direction was off, not sure if you were still headed in the right direction towards his car anymore, the whole world feeling like it was swallowing you up.

Deep breaths, just take a deep breath. Keep moving.

You had to repeat it to yourself in order to stay calm, trying to reassure yourself that somehow you could make it out of whatever this was but a pang of worry for Alfred made you feel nauseous.

Unwelcome thoughts of something happening to him threatened to take root amidst your struggle to think. Hands moving on their own volition, you reached into your bag to fumble for your phone; maybe you could could get a hold of him by calling, sending a text, could find where he was and try and make your way to him in the event you ended up making it to the car and he wasn’t there.

Seconds later, up ahead of you, a truck swerved to avoid a group of people rushing into the intersection which sent everyone scrambling to move aside, inadvertently knocking you off balance again.

Stinging pain prickled in the meat of your shins, rattling all the way up to your temple when you collided with the cold concrete, eyes going wide knowing it wasn’t safe to be on the ground like this.

But it didn’t matter because had you not been knocked to the ground you weren’t sure you would have noticed it: the shiny silver canister nestled in a pile of snow not six feet away.

Something didn’t feel right about this. It felt like you were being herded to this point.

Under the noise of so many footsteps and all the commotion you heard it click, a slow whistling hiss coming after. The sound grew louder but you were already scrambling backwards trying to put distance between you and the cloudy plume of gas extinguishing from the cylinder.

This had to be the fear toxin, this had to be him.

Fresh screams dotted the blood rushing to your brain through your ears, dread forming a hard lump in your throat as you watched the gas diffuse again and mix with the falling snow.

Loosening your scarf you folded it over your nose and mouth hoping it would buy you some time if you weren’t breathing as much of it in, you couldn’t be sure you hadn’t already.

Your heart was hammering in your ribs when you finally found your footing and could stand, ignoring the strain in your muscles or how your skin felt raw from where your tights had snagged and torn from crawling on the pavement.

Now that you were on your feet again your surroundings were more familiar.

It’s how you spotted the mouth of an alleyway to your right, knowing exactly where it would lead, recognizing the rust red fire escape peeking out from the side of the building. You hadn’t realized you traveled back this far but you’d take it, at least you’d be off the street this way.

The disadvantage of this was that you were working against the flow of bodies but you tried to keep your stance wide and square out your shoulders so you couldn’t be pushed quite as easily, and there was something else…a noticeable difference in how people were acting.

It wasn’t just panic in their eyes, pupils glazed over and blown wide, this was an erratic look of fright. This toxin was confirmed to cause hallucinations which could only mean there had to be dozen’s on this street alone who’d come in contact with it.

You could only imagine what awful things they were seeing, your voice ricocheting against the clamor of sounds trying to warn whoever you could.

Just then, the quickest flash of gold appears in your peripheral and you hear your name again turning in time to see him, Alfred, shouldering his way through the crowd.

You stared in awe, questioning for a split second if you were starting to see things too but he was really there fighting and pushing his way through the packed street to get to you.

The small relief when he reached you, both of his arms locking around you this time before ushering you the rest of the way. Slipping into the alleyway was easy after that.

“Are you hurt? Darling, look at me please! Are you hurt?” His voice is chalked with concern, a clipped edge to his tone that echoed against the brick wall you had slumped against to catch your breath.

He’s already looking you up and down in careful assessment.

“I’m fine! I’m okay..I think, but wait, Alfred! This was intentional, the gas it-” the words come tumbling out but you fall short at the nod he gave you. Of course he had pieced it together. You’re gulping before noticing his cane is missing. “What about you? I was so worried when we-” the words died in your throat for a second time remembering how you got separated in the crowd.

You didn’t trust yourself not to cry.

“Me too, sweet girl but I am alright. I was far more worried about you.” and it’s the tenderness in his voice that makes you sniffle.

Screaming cuts through the brief moment of rest and you both agree you need to get out of here, deciding to stay off the main streets. If you could cut through a few alleyways you’d be able to get to his car.

His hand is once again steady in yours, thumb passing over your skin trying to soothe you while your own fingers return pressure here and there, beyond relieved to be next to him again even with a million more worries arising.

The damage had already been done though, time beginning to move slowly, buildings looming high above feeling suffocating, as if maybe you’d never find your way out, every muffled cry or scream from the streets a terrible chorus.

A loud squeal and the creaking of metal a few feet ahead halted your steps again, Alfred’s arm thrown back to push you behind him.

Four men filed out of a side door, the hoods of their jackets pulled up so they were shrouded in shadows, both of you just barely avoiding being seen.

Alfred had hastened to backtrack and slip behind an empty delivery truck in the alley that provided some cover without close inspection but was still too close for any sort of comfort.

Everything in you went quiet and still, clammy fingers gripping Alfred’s bicep a little tighter, grateful you were wedged between the side of the truck and his body. You don’t want to look their way again but your anxiety rises at the thought of not knowing how far away they were so you risk a peek over his shoulder.

Your blood goes cold almost instantly, breath sucked from your lungs when a fifth man stepped forth.

Dead eyes pierced through a ripped burlap hood covering the man’s head, its crooked stitching reminding you of an old scarecrow only the rest of him was clad in a suit. All you felt was dread.

“Keep your eyes peeled.” a distorted command came from behind the decrepit hood.

There was something terrifying about the way this man moved, it was creepy and sinister, your suspicions confirmed when you spotted more of those silver canisters peeking out from his suit jacket just before he was slinking away, moving out onto the street ahead flanked by those four men, each with a weapon in hand.

Tentative relief came seeing the distance increase between your position and theirs but you weren’t out of the woods yet by any means with one more street to go.

Counting shallow breaths one by one, you waited until the crunch of their footsteps on the snow faded enough to move ahead safely.

Alfred squeezed your fingers to get your attention, motioning for you to follow him from out behind the truck carefully. It was best not to stay idle here too long.

In the midst of trying to process what just occurred you didn’t notice Alfred pull out a small blade until you saw it clenched in his left hand, noting the way he kept it tucked in towards his palm so that outwardly no one could see it was there.

His other hand gripped your arm, keeping you from being able to move from behind his back as you crept forward together, a defensiveness in his movements that made it seem like this was just muscle memory for him.

Here he was, protecting you, keeping you calm this whole time and though it wasn’t surprising anymore you were still a little struck by just how much he cared for you, your wellbeing. It bled through into every part of him and that had your heart clenching.

When you finally made it out of the alley fresh worry spiked like ice inside your chest, attention drawn to every direction trying to make sure nothing would catch either of you off guard now that you were no longer under the cover of the city’s alleyways but at last, after what felt like an eternity, you had arrived.

Unlocking the car and seeing to it that you were safely tucked inside, Alfred was skillfully weaving the sleek vehicle through the streets in no time.

—

Everything felt like it was turned upside down.

Sirens and police cars whizzed past, headed in the direction you’d just left behind and you could only watch as the weather turned dreary.

Alfred checked in every so often, comforting you with reassuring glances, a soft squeeze to your knee which you returned with a weak smile. You were sure he had noticed you shivering as well and felt appreciative of the warm air circulating through the vents.

Remembering your phone after a moment you fished it out of your bag, replying to a string of texts from Kiera who was worried sick and thankfully still safe inside where you last saw her.

Scrolling through the rest of your messages and missed phone calls that kept pinging in your notifications you let each of them know you were safe until it hit you that something was missing, a sudden gasp catching Alfred’s attention.

“Do-do you think Bruce is okay? He left a few minutes before us. Maybe he managed to miss all that.”

“I’m sure he made it through, but he’s not been answering his phone. We’ll be at the Tower soon and we can check.”

It sounds hopeful but the crease of worry between his brows makes you wonder.

Trying to cling to the more hopeful outcome, you attempt to keep bad thoughts at bay with the idea that you’d see that swath of dark hair emerging from the staircase as soon as you step into the foyer. He just had to be there.

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet but the noise in your head made up for it.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d seen—Scarecrow. How close you’d gotten to the fear toxin but so luckily managed to avoid it, a sick feeling in your stomach seeing what it did to the people around you.

Whatever his big plans were for the people of Gotham, you were sure they were horrifying.

Anxiety drips from your shoulders when the car finally comes to a stop, limbs heavy again as you soar up to the penthouse floors from the parking garage elevator and it’s only when the low hum of the lift stops that you let go of Alfred’s hand, the doors opening to a suspended silence.

It only took a few minutes and a quick search to see that it was evident Bruce wasn’t here.

Your stomach was twisted into knots again waiting patiently while Alfred tried his cell phone one more time. Each trilling of the dial tone felt longer than the last and your heart sank once it went to voicemail.

“If he has his location on, I’m sure I’ll be able to find him.” He takes a deep breath, pacing the floor trying to think, to come up with answers.

Wringing your hands wasn’t doing much to ease the tension in your body so you forced yourself to lean against the solid wood table of the main room.

Touching something solid seemed to help and you wanted to be helpful to Alfred right now, at the very least supportive in the effort to find Bruce, hoping anxiety wouldn’t take over everything.

Mentally you were running through a list of possible places near the incident that he could be, fingers flying to your phone to search news updates, find out if Bruce’s name had been mentioned anywhere.

“Christ, I’ve found him! His phone is at the GCPD building. He can’t have been there for very long yet.”

“Okay, that’s good. He’s probably okay then if he’s there of all places, right?” your question is tinged with a cautious optimism as is Alfred’s responding agreement but you still feel unsure.

“I’m going to head there regardless, surely he’s fine but I don’t want to take any chances. I wish he would answer his bloody phone, though.”

He sounded like such a dad in that moment you might have laughed if the circumstances were different.

“Maybe he’s there with the mayor too, they walked out together before us, it was probably the first place he would think to go especially if they saw something related to what we saw.” you offer a little reassurance and reach out to squeeze his shoulder.

“Smart girl. I’m sure you are right.” Alfred sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Fngers pinching the bridge of his nose before he slips his glasses from his breast pocket and puts them on, focused in on what needed to be done once again, typing out a few messages to Bruce in the meantime.

“I can come with you, just in case he’s in trouble or, or.” you don’t want to go any further with possibilities and you aren’t sure how to articulate your uneasiness at him going back out there on his own even if he could handle himself.

It upset you to think you wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t know if something else were to happen.

“Oh my love, I appreciate that. You’ve been so brave through all this and I do want you with me but more importantly I need you safe and staying here will ensure that. I don’t want you in harm's way.” he’s setting down his phone to cup your cheeks, moving in close so his nose brushes yours gently.

You want to protest but understand that he’s right, the lump in your throat returning as you look at him.

He was being strong, for you, keeping it together just to make sure you weren’t any more frightened than you needed to be but you could see the stress in his features and knew you needed to be strong for him too.

“I don’t like it but I understand,” you relented with a whisper, leaning into him a little more, unconsciously trying to hold on. “I’ll stay here but just please be careful okay?”

Alfred moved back a bit so you’d look him in the eyes, a determination in them that takes away some unsettled nerves.

“I promise I will be. I’ll keep in touch as well, as soon as I find out anything you’ll get a call.” His soft murmur came in between the gentle press of his lips against your forehead.

His kisses were effective in calming you even if it didn’t help the reluctance to part from him, you know he has to go and don’t want to delay him any longer.

A new wave of emotion crests at the way he fusses over you before departing; making sure you were okay to be here alone for a bit, reminding you to eat something soon and that there was a change of clothes still in his room if you wanted to shower and take off your torn tights and snow dampened sweater.

The anxious shake of your hands was better even as you kissed him goodbye, returning his thoughtfulness by making sure he had a pair of gloves and another cane from his collection in hand before hurrying off, your feet lingering for a moment longer after the elevator doors close behind him.

Now…the waiting began.

—

Barely twenty minutes have gone by but you’re restless and there’s a sharp tension in your shoulders all the way down to your hamstrings that won’t ease up even when you try to relax.

Wayne Tower was quiet and far too empty, the methodic tick of the old grandfather clock in the foyer and your footsteps all the sound she’d bestow.

Sitting still has proved to be impossible so you wander the halls, count the steps each staircase you go up, try to roll out the stiffness in your neck little by little.

It’s only afternoon but the skies are gray and dark, some heavy kind of shadow cast over every corner that could be touched and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it but have patience.

News updates are slow meaning no one knows anything concrete yet, just that nearby hospitals were starting to get an influx of people affected by the fear toxin and police were all over the scene of the incident and surrounding areas. You’re just glad it seemed to be isolated to the few blocks you had navigated around earlier, nothing else occurring elsewhere in the city.

That certainly didn’t mean these incidents weren’t going to spread, you were fully prepared to hear of more fear toxin attacks in the near future with so much mystery still surrounding Scarecrow.

This whole thing felt deeper than what you could see at the surface but all you could come up with were questions and more questions.

But there’s no use in giving yourself a headache, not now at least, your phone ringing abruptly and Alfred’s name illuminating the screen. You’re answering before the second ring, taking a deep breath the moment he tells you everything is alright.

Bruce was indeed at GCPD headquarters when Alfred got there and the pair were in the process of giving statements about what they saw related to the attack so it was looking like they were going to be there for a while yet.

You don’t get to speak to Alfred for long before you hear him being summoned and you’re wrapping things up, wishing him well before he leaves you with a promise that he’ll update you as things go.

Your body felt much lighter now that you knew they were safe, the tightness in your chest dissipating as you finally allowed yourself to unwind a little.

Stomach still too tense to try and eat anything yet, you opt to take a shower instead, the change of clothes and the hot steam of the water would do you good.

Finding the familiar path to Alfred’s bedroom was easy, his space inviting, kept as tidy as ever but you still see all of him in it.

The faded bookmark sticking out of the novel on his bedside table, his nighttime reading glasses that lay folded on a stack of books to the left, and the tie and cufflinks atop his dresser still there from when he was getting ready this morning you imagined.

You’re comforted knowing you’re surrounded by his things and you’re further softened seeing your clothing items amongst his from when you stayed the night for the first time, everything neatly folded in the way you’ve learned he liked to fold.

Thoughts of him lingered as you retreated into the warmth of the shower, adrenaline slowly leached from your body, swirling down the drain with the soapy water.

You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from the last hour and a half until your eyes started to feel heavy but you don’t want to get out just yet.

It feels safe here and you’re already too far gone indulging in daydreams of your boyfriend, the thrill of being able to call him that now—the same one who practically bouldered his way through a crowd of people to reach you.

In the moment there hadn’t been time to really think about it but now that you were alone with your thoughts, it’s all you could replay.

Or maybe it’s all you wanted to think about but either way you wanted to drown in whatever strength and steadfast skill Alfred possessed, heart fluttering thinking of how every movement was intentional, the way his entire body pivoted to shield you, keep you safe as you moved through the streets, the switchblade he so effortlessly and quietly had ready and the expert flourish of his wrist when he pocketed it in the car.

Yes you knew he had been a soldier, had seen combat and was skilled in more areas than you could count, you could only imagine all the technical and psychological training he had from his days as an intelligence agent and though you took those parts of him seriously, you also couldn’t help but find it all deeply attractive.

Where words could not be applied, he showed you.

Refreshed and in more comfortable clothes, your mind felt a little clearer even if having to wait was still difficult but you try and be patient for another update, checking in with your friends in the meantime.

Alfred’s bedroom was warm from the steam still escaping from the connecting bathroom and you felt far too cozy here to venture back downstairs so you climb into the large bed and curl up on his side, comforted by the fact that his pillows smell like him.

No longer restless from the quiet aura in the air, fatigue rolled in, the energy to worry had faded quickly. Instead you began to drift off, the allure of resting pulling you under so easily.

Your phone is still clutched in your hand as you oscillate between worlds, thinking of Alfred and that “oh my love” that had left his lips so tenderly, understanding now why your breath caught in your chest after, why you’d been persuaded to listen.

He refused to let you dismiss your own wellbeing when thinking of others, your importance to him was too great to let you follow him into the unknown even if he’d feel much better having you by his side.

Nothing was going to happen to you if he had anything to do about it.

You hadn’t ever been shown this much adoration before and so fiercely and consistently at that and you slip into a light slumber thinking that this must be what falling in love felt like. To know perhaps, somewhere etched deep within you that it was exactly that. Love.

An unending flame, a sewn red string, so viscerally real it had you swearing to nurture it always. Even in sleep you know you’d never dream of stopping.

—

Winter sun had just begun to set when you were woken up by the sharp buzzing of your phone. A text message.

On the way back now, Bruce is with me. Hope you’re doing alright, I’ll see you soon, lovely x Alfred

Smiling at the good news you rub the grogginess from your eyes and reply back before tucking your face back into the pillow for a few more minutes.

Your nap had lasted an hour or so and afternoon was quickly spilling into evening as you blink the last remnants of sleep away and check the time. Anticipation and the rumbling in your tummy finally get you up.

Taking a few moments to fix where your curls had flattened to your head from laying on your side, you fluffed out the small coils until it looked the way you wanted, padding down the old staircases and into the kitchen soon after.

You wanted to try and make something quick to eat for when they got back, you were sure if you were hungry they must be too especially after everything that had happened, all the extra energy spent.

A quick browse through the fridge and pantry had you grabbing ingredients for sandwiches, absentmindedly putting everything together and you’d just stacked the last one on the plate when you heard the elevator chime and you didn't bother to put anything away, rushing out to the foyer right away.

You don’t care that you’re running, feet carrying you forward with their own motivation, you’ve waited long enough and it’s a complete and total relief when Alfred and Bruce step inside.

Alfred saw you first, a grunt that turns into a chuckle resounding through his chest when you all but crash into him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug that he returns immediately, his own arms sliding across your torso to pull you in close.

Not a second more apart, that is all you wished out of the rest of this day.

“I’m so happy you guys are back. What’s going on out there?” you compose yourself after a moment.

“Half the city is shut down right now, people are scared and staying inside judging by how empty the streets are.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair while he explains.

You almost don’t notice that his fingers are smudged in some sort of dark ink or paint, the color reminding you of motor oil, thoughts racing as to what could have happened, what he might have seen.

“Are you guys doing okay?” you’re asking quietly as you all walk into the main room, hoping you hadn’t pressed too much too soon, just worried by what their faces won’t yield.

Alfred shrugs off his coat and rubs your shoulders to comfort you.

“We’re both alright, darling, don’t worry.” He's reassuring you, steady and measured voice calming you enough to where you begin to let yourself focus on how delighted you are to see them.

Bruce is the first to head to the kitchen when you mention you made sandwiches if anyone was hungry, his thanks echoing down the hall.

You take a moment then to greet Alfred properly, kissing him soundly, spine tingling when he returned the kiss with a sweet pressure that gave away how much he missed you.

“I’m so sorry it’s been hours, their investigation is a big operation and nearly everyone needed to speak to us. Are you doing alright? I’ve been thinking of you all afternoon." He's looking over your frame again, almost like he can’t help but check for himself one more time

“I’m okay, I promise! Actually doing a lot better now that you’re here. It was hard not to be a nervous wreck for a second there but I took a shower and ended up sleeping for an hour and that really helped.” you’re sighing contently against his shoulder.

“That’s my girl. I am so proud of you for how you’ve handled all this today, I really am. That’s great!”

His words were so full of praise and affection it flusters your thoughts and you’re glad he can’t fully see your face lest he notice how much you’re affected, how much that just made you want him, but you reasoned it wasn’t the right time for romantic feelings and desires to take hold yet.

Not when there were still so many questions and things to be talked about, so you stow away those thoughts for the moment, already sure the tension would be palpable when you were able to be alone.

Maybe it would only be a little longer left till then.

Eventually the two of you joined Bruce in the kitchen, everyone feeling a little more settled after eating, able to process and debrief about what madness you’d found yourselves in today.

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe how it felt but it’s all you could manage to say, not quite sure how you were able to make it out of the chaos in the streets unscathed save for a few bruises, it all felt like a bad dream come to life and everyone feared that the worst was still yet to come, that sick feeling in your gut returning with the thought that they were probably right.

Dusky colors peeked over the horizon as the three of you tuned into the five o’clock evening news hour, wary faces glued to the TV as the first solid pictures of Scarecrow flashed across the screen. Your knees bounced nervously where you were sitting on an old loveseat, the reminder of his hooded face making you shiver.

An eerie cell phone video showed him moving down a street with his henchmen, people screaming and writhing on the ground from the toxin.

It seemed like he enjoyed what he had caused, a maniacal glint to his eyes, in the way he moved his face under that hood you swore had to be fused to his skin by the way it looked on him. You had to look away after the third loop of the video, an attempt to keep any nightmares about him later at bay.

Some information was given about the initial incident that sent everyone running; the toxin had been released inside the vents at the City Hall building near The Magpie, gas canisters later found in the ducts like the ones you’d seen in the commotion, lying in the snow so coincidentally.

Having confirmation that it had been planned like you thought only produced more confusion with the sudden wish to have been very wrong about what was going on.

Premeditation like this could only mean this man was cunning and careful, that he’d only been caught on video and surveillance footage because he intended to be seen and that terrified you to realize.

When you dared to peek at the TV again you immediately had to do a double take, up close photos of the men flanking Scarecrow in the video popping up, showing you what the men you saw in the alley really looked like out of the shadows.

You wanted to throw up. You knew for sure that you recognized one of them.

The same man who had been following you when you ran into Alfred that morning you met completely by chance.

It couldn’t be, you didn’t want it to be, as if you could kid yourself into believing you’d forgotten his face no matter how hard you had tried since that day, but it was him and a shudder rolled down your spine at how much of an awful turn this was.

Your small gasp of surprise caught Bruce’s attention and you noticed his careful gaze shift from the screen to your face in a question, figuring out what you’re stuck on trying to explain before you can get any words out.

“You know one of them?” there’s something in Bruce’s tone you can’t discern right away.

“I..yes I recognize him,” your sigh was heavy, followed by the point of your finger when the man’s picture was shown one more time. “Don’t know his name or anything but I do know he works for Oz, I’ve seen him around the Iceberg Lounge pretty recently.”

You took a deep breath before turning your attention to Alfred who was also listening curiously.

“I should also mention that I found out he was the man who was stalking me the morning we met. Oz sometimes uses his men to intimidate the dancers who get out of line with him and I may or may not have injured his pride the night before. I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner I just didn’t want to upset you with it.”

You cringe inwardly, anxiety rushing in all over again now that you’d said it out loud.

That incident had been something you tried not to give too much thought to, you’d been careful, always were and hadn’t had any more issues with being followed, even got back in Cobblepot’s good graces lately as well but seeing that photo brought it all back.

“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for, darling. That’s quite alright and more than understandable, I think you know either way I’d always be upset knowing he sent that man to stalk you but I would never be angry with you about that.” Alfred spoke gently.

You’re relieved he isn’t mad at you even if the guilt that lingered made you worry.

Maybe you’d make a point to bring it up again when you were alone and able to discuss it in the full context of your relationship, you were sure he wouldn’t mind giving you a little extra reassurance about it.

“Thank you. I don’t know what to make of this but I am a bit shocked Oz would be connected. He’s looking for opportunities to climb up in the crime world, all of us know that and he can be sleazy and he has a reputation for a reason but for him to be part of something like this if he really is involved is extreme.” you chew the inside of your cheek, pondering if your boss had made a deal with the devil in his search for power in Gotham.

Men like him were all smoke and mirrors with a penchant for easily bruised egos but these revelations had you questioning things. It wasn’t a good thing to know too much in this situation and right now, you were making one too many connections for your liking.

You would just have to be more vigilant now, especially around him.

The investigation into today’s fear toxin attack was still ongoing and every news outlet was clamoring for updates and solid information that was nonexistent right now, Bruce finally turning off the TV after a while.

There would be a press conference tomorrow, maybe the city would know more by then but for now it was no use to any of you to rewatch the events you’d already experienced firsthand today.

Bruce announced he was going to shower and call it a night and wished you well if he didn’t see you again, adding that you were welcome to stay any time if you didn’t feel safe going home and he was glad you weren’t hurt after everything.

It brought about a smile to your face again to know he didn’t think any differently of you and made sure you felt welcome.

You were remembering his offer to surprise Alfred with a proper dinner this weekend and though what happened today seemed to put a huge damper on things, you hoped that could still happen.

Closeness and company was what you all needed right now.

After helping Alfred tidy up the kitchen a bit he offers to drive you home and your face must have indicated your disappointment because he was quick to explain he had every intention of spending the rest of the night with you, just thought you’d want to be in your own space after such a taxing day.

He was right, as comfortable as you felt here at Wayne Tower you did miss your apartment and your bed and the familiarity of being in your space but you were also relieved to know that he was still looking forward to making the most out of things this evening.

Of course he’d never leave you wanting or wishing.

Trying to hide your eagerness was a challenge, a new kind of adrenaline in your system as you watched Alfred gather some things to take with him because he said he’d be staying the night too which meant you’d get to have him to yourself after all, putting excitement back in your veins after you’d been quietly hoping to be able to wake up next to him in the morning.

When you finally left the Tower, the streets were just as barren and quiet as Bruce had said, it was eerie not seeing any of the usual traffic.

The only semblance of relief came from seeing that familiar bat signal lit up in the sky, a few hopeful beams cutting through the gloom in the air.

Nothing was going to be the same moving forward and most of the city had been bracing for this since the first threat. It was only a matter of time but tonight, you wanted to forget for a little while and just take all the comfort and quality time with Alfred that you could.

He was as protective as ever walking up to your building and doesn’t fully drop his guard until you’re both inside and the door is locked.

Home at last!

Falling back onto more recent patterns, the space by the door is filled in with Alfred’s shoes, his coat hanging up next to yours, his presence in your apartment making it feel the most complete it’s ever been.

He insisted that you let him make an evening cup of tea for both of you while you sank into the couch cushions, browsing through movies to watch together before you agree on something comedic and lighthearted.

Eventually he joined you and somewhere in between laying your head against his shoulder and the middle of the movie, you finished your mug of chamomile tea and Alfred had pulled you into his lap.

And somewhere between then and the end of the movie you fit yourselves together so you could be cuddled against his side, your leg draped over his to make space.

He’s so solid and warm that you’re helpless to sink into his hold, unable to explain why his arms made you feel so sweetly held, so comforted that the feeling radiated through just the mere mention of his name.

Maybe it’s why the tears eventually came, when you knew you were completely safe and able to feel all your emotions fully after hours of having to push through.

It didn’t take Alfred long to notice your quiet sniffles though, catching the moment some of those tears spill over in silence.

“Ohh sweetheart, it’s alright you’re okay. I’m right here, can you tell me what’s on your mind?” His words are soft and patient and spoken so gently you feel more tears come.

“Today was just a lot…like I keep thinking of when we got separated in the street. I don’t think I’ve ever been as scared as I was at that moment. It’s probably all hitting me now I think,” the waver in your voice could have broken his heart.

“It was a lot and you’ve done such a good job getting through it, you know that was a brilliant idea to use your scarf as a mask? You have no idea how proud I am of you! But you are right, that was terrifying, I was so worried you were hurt or trampled or worse, can’t imagine how caught off guard and disoriented you must have felt and I am so sorry for that, darling.”

Alfred kissed your temple, fingers careful when he began to wipe away the salty streaks left behind on your cheeks and nose.

You wiggle yourself a little closer and nod against his shoulder, “You found me though, you made sure I wouldn’t be hurt even if you did almost give me a heart attack thinking I’d never be able to find you again.”

This time there’s a genuine, shy laugh at the end of your words.

“I’d always find you, you know that right?” his tone shifted to a slight seriousness, still comforting but there’s a weight to his words that steals your breath. “There isn’t a time, a place or a world in which I wouldn’t come find you, wouldn’t do everything in my power to keep you safe, you mean far too much to me.”

You cried a bit more when all of that sentiment sank in because you trusted Alfred so much you knew he spoke truthfully, it wasn’t just to ease your emotions he meant every word and in turn, you’d felt every word.

“I know, I don’t doubt that one bit. I know we talked about this earlier but I do want you to know I didn’t intend to keep that information about Oz sending someone to stalk me a secret from you. I promise I’m going to be a lot more careful around him now too.”

He wiped away the dampness from your lashes before simply shaking his head at you and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“That would definitely be wise going forward especially since we don’t know how deep his involvement goes but I also don’t want you worrying about how I feel, sweet girl. That was always yours to tell if and when you felt ready and it meant something greater that you trusted me with that knowledge, that I can be a place of confidence for you.”

When would he ever stop rendering you speechless?!

You began to think the answer was never and that was just fine honestly, your heart so taken with his patience and diligence to validate your feelings whenever it was needed, no shame or dismissal involved.

“Sometimes I think I just need a little extra reminding but you’re right I do know I can trust you with anything that’s going on, with anything I’m feeling.”

“Good, that makes me happy. I may have been thinking about putting you over my knee for thinking such silly thoughts that I would be upset, but there’s not a single thing you have to apologize for.”

Oh.

You forgot how to breathe after hearing that, something lighting up inside you imagining yourself over his knee, accompanying thoughts of being toyed with, spanked, squirming and helpless under the grip of those strong hands of his followed swiftly.

He’d figured it out now, reading the change of your expression for what it was, latent desires rising to the surface.

You untangled yourself from his embrace to sit up for a moment, further distracted when he clasped his hands behind his head, shirt pulling taut over his biceps.

“Thanks for reassuring me, if I ask again feel free to do that though, think I might actually get it through my head then,” you teased shyly, “I guess I am being silly, you did after all muscle your way through a wall of people to get to me, which by the way was very impressive.”

He laughed at your compliment, the sound low and gravelly to your ears, pulling you in.

“Mm used to be a boxer, love. I’m flattered you think so.”

Oh wow. Again your interest in his skills had been piqued and he must have seen the flicker of an urge to ask further in your eyes because he continued after a second.

“Well, field medics like to have fun too and it was the army so we were all trained in hand-to-hand combat; boxing kept us in shape and gave the lads something to do, to focus on. I still try to keep up with the training, Bruce and I spar a lot of the time, we have since he was old enough to throw a punch.” Alfred tilted his head at you a little, reminiscence on his features for but a moment.

A stray image of potentially watching him spar one day landed right in your lap and it was incredibly hard not to involuntarily scoot your leg further up from where it was draped over his thigh.

He was so damn attractive it wasn’t fair. It made sense, the boxing, connecting why his shoulders were so defined, the tone in the muscles of his back, the power you knew he had behind those thick hands and even thicker thighs.

So sturdy and agile, age and old injuries just a reminder that every move was calculated for a reason.

“That’s so cool. I bet it’s a good way to let off some steam too,” you rest your chin on the plush pillows of the sofa. Something had begun to shift, a slowly simmering tension working its way between your bodies.

“Oh I can think of other things that would do that better.”

The look on his face sends a wave of heat through you, straight to your core.

“Like putting me over your knee?”

It slipped from your lips on a whim but he was ready for it and you realized he’d been enticing you this whole time.

“If that’s what you’d like then of course. Have you ever been spanked before, darling?”

You took a shallow breath, “Maybe once or twice it’s happened in the moment but no, not really, not properly like that. I-I think I’d actually enjoy it, um have you ever spanked anyone before?”

“I have.”

He unclasped his hands to sit up next to you, eyes never leaving your face, keeping the intensity up, lighting every little flame inside you by the second. He knew exactly what he was doing and you were going to let every spark catch.

“Also impressive and yes, Alfred. I want your hands on me,” you sighed a soft plea.

“C’mere then, I’ve got you.” He tugs you gently into a kiss and your fingers slide down over his wrists when they moved in to cup your face, touching you the way you wanted, so sure and thorough until he grasps for your hips, hungrier than you’d anticipated.

He doesn’t waste time, your surprised little squeal making him smile when he moves to stand up and lifts you slightly by your hips, tipping you so you’d fall into him before he was transferring your weight so you were hauled over his shoulders, centered with such ease so that you felt balanced and stable now that you were off the ground.

Your pulse thuds in your chest as you cling to him, those nervous giggles muffled against his back while he carries you to bed.

—

The short walk down the hall made you feel jittery in the best way, a nervous excitement bubbling inside you knowing he was experienced with this, that he was going to show you and make it feel so good. You were sure he would.

It’s almost crazy to be back in your room after all that’s happened today, how tense all the minutes bleeding into hours had been.

But it could all be pushed to the background for a while, your attention locked into the moment as Alfred sat down on your bed, bringing you with him, your body positioned across his lap so prettily, angled so your legs were spread just slightly with the length of his left thigh keeping you supported.

You stretched out your upper half on the duvet, propped up on your elbows to look back at him, watching as he pushed your leggings down, throwing them somewhere behind him on the bed before warm hands were caressing up your shins, over your thighs and up to the swell of your ass.

His palm kneaded your flesh, strong fingers applying a teasing amount of pressure while you squirmed and arched back into his touch.

“I’ll start slow, is that alright? Nothing too hard, just a few spanks to see what you can tolerate. If you don’t like it or aren’t sure, we don’t have to continue.” His hand moves in soothing circles across your skin and he leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m okay with that.” you try and breathe.

“Good, I want you to say the word red if you need to stop, yellow if you need to slow down and green to continue if I stop to check in. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

There’s a little authority in his voice and it made you squirm again, aroused by his establishment of cues and a safeword right away, how in charge he felt right now, you wanted this so badly it caught you by surprise. You hadn’t expected to be so needy for this.

Remembering that he was waiting for a reply you squeak out a yes and have to bite your lip to keep from gasping when he pulls his hand back and swats the center of your ass, more sound behind the movement than there was force but it still made you jolt forward.

You groaned at the dull sting that prickled your skin after and glanced at Alfred who was already studying your reaction.

“Well done, how did that feel?” he cooed praise at you and this time you don’t try to stop the sound you make in response.

“Felt good, like what I was expecting but also different but I liked it, I want more.” your legs flexed when his hands smooth over your skin one more time, his pleased smirk at your declaration making heat pool in your lower back.

You wished he would slip off your underwear too, so then he’d be able to see just how soaked you were from all this but you knew you had to be patient and the reward would be everything.

You do take a second, however, to wiggle out of your sweater, starting to feel warm under the fleece lined fabric, and when you glanced back Alfred was admiring just as you thought he might be.

No bra, nothing underneath but soft, brown skin for him to feel and just to entice him a little more, you arch your hips, making your ass jiggle, just enough to pull his steely gaze down your backside.

The next spank is firmer than the first, more heaviness to his hand that made you whimper, your mind feeling a little hazy in the best way, the kind of haze that felt like a release, a soft bed to lay down on and surrender some control because you knew you’d be taken care of.

Thwap!

Whimpers and moaned out gasps mark the smack of his palm on each of your asscheeks, only a slight increase in the amount of force so that the sting just bordered on stealing your breath.

“Christ, you’re so gorgeous like this, baby.”

His accent was deeper, that gruff voice sending tingles rippling across your spine, going down smooth like whiskey and followed by his left hand sliding over your back to rest on your right hip, making sure you couldn’t squirm away.

He made each spank hurt in the most delightful way, alternating between right and left and then across both cheeks, spreading out the sensation, giving you a feel for which areas were more sensitive, which areas you liked being spanked at.

“Oh, fuck!” breathy curses left your lips when he kept at it, precise hands giving you just the right amount of impact.

“Good girl, you are doing so well. I think it’s time we take these off, hm?” he coaxes your hips up slightly so he can hook his fingers under the waistband of your panties and you’re all but begging him to.

Nevermind if he felt like tearing them in two, you would have let him, but he’s polite in how he strips you despite the way you feel him stirring, hardening beneath where you lay. God, you wanted him so badly.

“Please touch me, oh please,” you don’t even realize the words are coming from you.

In barely audible little pleas muffled by where your face is flush with the bed but Alfred doesn’t miss anything and he’s grinning in your peripheral.

“You should see how soaked you are, love. Need my fingers there, is that right?” his fingers were already inching towards where you ached the most, his right hand circling, distracting you from being able to speak while preparing you for another spank.

“Yes! Please, Alfred, I want it so much!” your whimper leaves both of you aching.

A tremble in your thighs had spread down to your pointed toes with the way he swirled the pads of his index and middle fingers over the slick mess between your thighs.

Slow and sweet as he slid them over your folds and circled over your clit, waiting and then rewarded with the eventual roll and arch of your hips, his free hand drawing back and then coming down on heated skin.

You gave a strangled cry, the sound turning into a moan when his fingers continued to circle your clit, responding to the way your body reacted, only taking his eyes off you for a moment when he finally put aside his self control to watch your pretty pussy swallow his thick fingers.

He worked you open gently, remembering how you liked him to move, where those sensitive spots were even at this new angle.

Giving you something to clench around with his next spank, coaxing you to rock into his touch like he could see you wanted to do, the gorgeous sway of your hips trying to meet the plunge of his fingers, undeniably needy for him.

You knew he could hear it in the way you cried out his name, how sensitive your entire body was now, the broken, pleading edge to the way you praise him in return, telling him how good it felt, how much you’d been needing this.

The pleasure built higher as did Alfred’s movements, a hiss at the edge of your words at each searing swat of his hands that mixed with the scissoring of his fingers, both working in careful, measured tandem.

“That’s my girl, come on, that’s it!” he grits out when you push up onto your elbows again and grind your hips back.

The passion and possession in the way he called you his merged with the curving of his fingers and you both know you’re there, tender walls fluttering as you come, thighs aching, your whole body tingling, trembling with the steady roll of his wrist keeping the pleasure drawn out, filling your entire body.

You’re not embarrassed by the tears that prick your eyes or the sob in your throat that follow when he finally flips you over, laying you back because you’d begged for him to and who was he to refuse you, an angel.

If you wanted his face between your thighs, eating your dripping pussy until you were too sensitive to take it, that’s exactly what he’d give you and it’s why you weren’t shy, not in this moment, not when you knew he wanted it just as much as you.

Soft hands disturb the careful style of Alfred’s hair, unable to help it when his tongue licks you and the salt and pepper scruff scratches achingly over your inner thighs, daring you to try and close them.

Not like you’d want to, able to see how his shoulders curved and bulged with the stretch of his shirt as he kept your legs parted with his body.

This was everything you had wanted, moaning at the way he consumed you so lovingly, a weight in his touch and in his encouraging, filthy words that told you he wasn’t holding back now, you were his girl, he could show you the more true depth of his desire now.

And you were safe to do the same, you craved it actually, always wanting this and you reason you have this entire time, craving this level of care and need, even obsession with each other, so much trust and feelings at the center of it.

“So good, baby. Just like that, please…” you barely get the words out, lungs losing air from the focus he gave to your words even before you finished speaking.

His hands didn’t stay idle, the grip of his hands over your body like he wanted to memorize the feel of you, the way you dipped and curved and stretched and it drove you wild, the wet suction of his mouth the only thing your mind could focus on.

It’s a wonder you can even move when he finally withdraws his mouth from your puffy lips, turning his still hungry and devoted gaze towards your chest, those stiff peaks he’d been neglecting through all this, but no longer.

You squirmed into the flick of his tongue, the way he kissed your skin and praised and nipped and got his lips on every inch of skin that he could while you just laid back and relaxed, recovered from the orgasm still twitching in the muscles of your arms, your thighs, your tummy.

“Just look at you. Fuck, I am so lucky,” he rumbles against your collar and you wrap your arms around him, curled against him.

“I feel exactly the same way.”

His soft huff of breath against your neck tickled and you snake your legs around him, hoping to keep him close, just wanting to be in his arms and under his body for as long as you could.

You’d take forever, and that was all you needed to know.

The Shoreline Lofts

November 27

12:00 a.m.

The Batman was watching. Unblinking and focused, planted in place but ready for anything that might come. Folding himself into the inky cloak of the midnight hour.

The Iceberg Lounge was directly beneath the loft space but that wasn’t why Bruce had come tonight.

No, he was far more interested in what Penguin got up to in private, without guests and dancers and clients around, what secrets or clues might be yielded if he just sat and watched, surveilled for a while.

He was curious why the man you had recognized from the news was connected to Scarecrow and he didn’t believe for a moment that Oz wasn’t keeping tabs on what his men were doing, he had to have known the attack was going to happen.

Motives were unclear but pieces of this horrid puzzle were starting to come together so Bruce wouldn’t rest until he could see the grand picture for what it was.

He tipped the binoculars back up to the blackened edges of his cowl, zeroing in again on where Oz was playing pool, unaware a shadow sat spying through the skylight.

The building’s layout was already scoped out, every entry point found, tested, and memorized. Now Bruce would wait and watch until Penguin left the loft to slip in and see what he could find.

Gordon needed intel, something to go on after grasping for dead end’s, there was no time to sit on things, not after what he’d seen today.

Not after you and Alfred were almost hurt and especially not after he’d seen what the toxin did to people, recognizing the look of anguish in their eyes like his own reflection.

A waking nightmare was no stranger to Bruce so he’d make sure of this, Scarecrow would be made to answer.

A/N: It’s been so long and I have missed writing for Alfred and I’m really surprised and proud of what I wrote here! Went through a lot of emotions trying to get this on the page and there was a lot of self doubt and anxiety and unfairly beating myself up about things not coming together but here we are and I just really love that I pushed through and had fun putting this all together in the end 💕 We stan protective Alfred! Like if that’s not a whole husband right there!

Thanks for giving this a read!

no pressure tags! 💌 @flamingdisputes @saradika @ozarkthedog @tarabyte3 @tarrenterror25 @the-eyes-of-andyserkis @communism-bitches @xnodamsel @glitterjuju @mariahthelioness29 @ayoarticulate @fluffyprettykitty @unrefinedmusings @xoxovivafics @peachyteabuck

#amalia writes #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x black reader #alfred pennyworth x woc #the batman!alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth smut #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth fanfiction #alfred pennyworth fanfic #andy serkis

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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Final Bids [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (19) Stakes are high and mischief is rife at Stark's charity auction. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Auction trope. Smuttish. Language. Mild Angst -> Fluff. (w/c 4.7k)

Loki hadn’t shown up fighting his way through customs at the airport. There was no dramatic kiss on the runway, and no hint of his theatrical presence at the other side when you landed at JFK. He’s never text you before, he won’t start now; you thought, staring at the blank phone screen resting on the bar of the Tower’s event suite. You stared at it, hoping for a miraculous flash. This is mad.

“Hey.” Wanda said, sliding into the seat beside yours. “Hey.” you replied flatly. She was dressed to the nines tonight, cleavage bursting from a sinfully red strapless dress. “You better be careful in that thing, Thor will get the wrong idea.” you muttered, taking another sip of your drink. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” Wanda winked. “Have you seen him?” she said, flipping her hair over one shoulder as she scanned the room.

“No...I need to talk to him, actually.” you said, joining her in scouting the bustling crowd. Wanda hummed, distracted. Needing to talk to Thor, you chided yourself; say you’re desperate without saying you’re desperate. “I still think you should have given Stark a pair of used panties for this thing.” the redhead mumbled coyly as she turned back to you, satisfied her audience of choice was not in the direct vicinity. “I don’t think anyone wants my dirty underwear, girl.” you laughed, happy for the distraction. “Please.” she scoffed. “Whatever pheromones you’re pumping out had two gods fighting over you. Lit-e-ral-ly.” she said, emphasising with four slaps of her palm on the bar. “People would pay good money to wear that shit like perfume. Mark my words.” You shrugged, seeing Wanda’s eyes narrow. “I think my pheromones are officially out of business, honestly” you sighed, “Rome didn’t exactly go to plan. I think we’re done.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “You always say that. And then the next time I see you, the hair’s all fucked out and you have a big dopey smile on your face and something new he’s said or done that’s driving you crazy. It’s your thing. Your couple thing.” “We’re not a couple.” you snapped.

“If you say so.” Wanda murmured coyly, manoeuvring the tiny straw hanging off her cocktail into her mouth.

There was a pause as you both ran your eyes over the elegant guests returning from intermission. So far, the charity auction had been a roaring success. Your combat belt went for a respectable forty-eight large, while a pair of Banner’s ripped shorts and Bucky’s unwashed sweatband had both garnered over fifty thousand. You knew the world had gone officially mad when Rogers’ notebook of patriotic mindfulness ramblings reached double that. Tony was working his magic on a group of shareholders near the head of the hall, raucous laughter splitting the gin-soaked air. Steve stood at the podium, frowning. As expected, he was taking the duty of auctioneer very seriously.

“What did you hand over to Tony’s fund, then?” you said, crossing your legs on the barstool. “A bra.” Wanda shrugged, as you spluttered on a mouthful of diet coke. “What?!” she postured innocently, “it’s for charity.” The two of you burst into peals of laughter, your gaze drawn back to Captain Rogers squinting at his cards on the stage. “Oh, Steve’s gonna love that.” you gasped, wiping a tear from your eye. Wanda shrugged again. “They said a personal item that people would want – so I complied.” Clint peeled away from the edge of the crowd, leaning on the bar beside you. “Ladies.” he said solemnly, letting his stare wander from a distance over the pulsing mass of people. “Have either of you seen Laufeyson?” Wanda shook her head. “I don’t think he’s coming, he’s not on the auction list – hasn’t even submitted anything.” she said casually, fiddling with her straw. Your stomach dropped, as Clint grimaced. “Good.” he said, letting out a sigh of relief. You frowned. “What’s the problem?” A forced smile stretched across Barton’s face. “Oh nothing! Just...trying to lay low that’s all. He and I had a little...never mind.” You shifted your handbag on the bar, feeling the weight of Loki’s seal rolling gently against the sides. He wouldn’t want to lose it, you thought; remembering the awkward conversations with airport security in Rome. A flash of green caught your attention out the corner of your eye. Whipping your head towards the entrance, you watched as a polished and preened Amanda sashayed around the edge of the crowd like a shark. Green, you scoffed. She’s really laying it on thick. Amanda teetered on her heels before pausing, forehead creased as she plopped down on a chair and hoisting one leg over the other. Clint cleared his throat. “They’re starting again, Tony sent me to get you guys. Shall we?” The next forty-five minutes went by in a haze as your gaze flickered intermittently to the main doors. Loki never missed a chance to schmooze with the higher echelons of Midgardian society. He enjoyed the look of abject terror on Steve’s face too much. You clapped dryly with the others as each lot was closed: Thor’s silk nightcap, Natasha’s make-up case, Lang’s personalised hip-flask and of course...Wanda’s bra. Where is he? You couldn’t help but notice Amanda glancing over her shoulder, meeting your eyes each time before quickly turning away. She made no bids, you noticed; but her stare wandered to the main entrance with suspicious regularity. The same as your own. Steve rumbled on, pausing for laughter as the crowd graciously indulged their host for the evening. Tony heckled from the side-lines, making the captain’s cheeks flush pink on each occasion. As he began the speech he had rehearsed for the closing remarks, you saw his blue eyes widen. The tell-tale shuffle of bodies parting behind you was the only other sound you registered as whispers ran through the crowd like the rustle of leaves. “Good Evening, Agent.” a low voice drawled softly over your shoulder. Wanda elbowed you teasingly in the ribs, her hands still folded on the high circular cocktail table. You elbowed her sharply back.

Tilting your chin casually to the side, you saw the blurred edge of Loki’s profile as he hovered at a respectful distance. “You’re late.” you hissed, heart thundering in your chest as the scent of him infused the air. You could have sworn the holy incense from the Roman church still clung to his hair. Loki chuckled lightly under his breath, hot air ghosting your ear. “I think you’ll find I’m right on time.” he purred, before peeling away to a space at a standing table to your side. Suddenly your mouth felt dry, flickering your eyes to the side covertly. Loki was wearing a suit tonight, but not just a suit; you whined internally. Never just a suit. Snug trousers of darkest forest green clung to his legs, the straight hem tailored flawlessly to the tongues of his dress shoes. A jacket of green sateen was wrapped around his exquisite musculature, biceps bulging beneath the glossy fabric as he conjured a drink to his open hand. You ran your eyes over the black lapel, his strong chest flat beneath the trussed layers of propriety you wanted to rip from his body.

Beneath the jacket, a silk waistcoat hugged his broad torso; the buttons glinting in the low atmospheric lights. A matching cravat wound around his long neck, fastened with a peculiar brooch you could only assume was Asgardian.

His hair was drawn back in an unkempt bun, messy strands hanging by his carved cheekbones. The contrast between his refined ensemble and the muss of his hair was not coincidental. It couldn’t be. A gentleman in the streets, a ravenous Asgardian whore in the sheets; it screamed. In his free hand, he held a cane; the tip heavy and ornately carved. Completely unnecessary, of course. Of course, you thought – watching him sip his drink with a knowing smirk. People were staring. And among them, Amanda. Steve cleared his throat pointedly, trying to recapture the section of the crowd engrossed in the unexpected late arrival. Your gaze swung back to the blushing blonde just as a stagehand crept sheepishly to his side, handing him a note.

“-and so in conclusion we would like to thank...to...wait wha-?” he raised his hands towards Tony, waving to the note with undisguised irritation. You saw Stark shrug, closing his eyes as his eyebrows raised. Just go with it, the gesture said. Steve frowned. “It seems we have one final item for auction, folks.” the captain said sourly, his feelings on the matter abundantly clear. “Courtesy of Loki Laufeyson apparently...which is..is-” He trailed off as he flipped the prompt card in his hand over, before waving it subtlety to the man who had delivered it, hidden offstage. The stagehand shrugged, making Steve purse his lips. “Well...I’m sure whatever our newest member has submitted for tonight’s fundraising efforts will be top notch. Why don’t we get the man himself up here to tell us about it, since he’s being so coy?” Steve looked smugly towards towards the god in the crowd, before he frowned. Loki was already sauntering towards the stage, tipping the ostentatious cane to excited applause before he began to climb the steps. You could see Steve’s lips moving, the rest of his face a stoic warning. He spun on his heels towards the audience, whipping the microphone cable once. “So, why don’t you tell the generous people here what they’ll be bidding on?” he announced through gritted teeth, an air of joviality barely masking his anxiety. Rogers gaze ran suspiciously over the god's placid features before turning back to the crowd with a showman smile. Loki clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward to the microphone clenched in the captain’s fist. “Me.” he said, slowly.

There were gasps as the guests leaned to each others ears, hands impulsively travelling to the bidding paddles discarded prematurely. “Ha-ha-ha he’s only joking folks. Let’s not get excited.” Steve chuckled, extending a hand to pat down the enthusiasm on the air. “Why don’t you tell them what they’ll really be bidding on.” he said with a maniacal fake smile that looked like it hurt. Loki’s smirk was a masterpiece of mischief, flirting at the dimples at the base of those devastatingly high cheekbones. He bent forward to the microphone, and you saw the exact moment that Steve realised it was too late to pull it away. “Me.” Loki repeated with a growl, his voice even richer and more seductive the second time. His long fingers wrapped around Steve’s white knuckles, holding him steady. “For one night, for the highest bidder; I will show them what it is to be brought to the precipice of sanity through pleasure. My complete and utter carnal devotion. An unlocking of your basest and most debauched desires. That is my submission to this affair.” He straightened, his eyes flickering to Steve’s face now pinker than his fuchsia tie. The poor captain’s eyes were watering. You felt sick. “What the fuck is he doing?” Wanda hissed, before downing her drink. “This is ridiculous, how dare he... he needs a knee in the nuts-” You turned, shushing her. “No, just...I need to..think.” you muttered. On one hand, if he didn’t go above fifty thousand...you could probably afford it. Just. But then, why should you? The arrogant, cruel prick that he was. If there was ever a way to show you that he was over it, over you – then this was it. Fuck him, you thought; blood thundering as you saw Amanda twirling the paddle between her fingers. And he’s definitely going above fifty-fucking-thousand. You saw Tony begin to squirm as Steve took a few tentative steps to the front of the podium. “You know...ladies and gents I gotta say this is pretty heckin’ unorthodox right here and I’m not sure-” In a handful of frantic bounds, Tony was on the stage; his arms spread wide before he clapped Rogers harshly on the back. “-OK, thanks Cap.” he announced playfully. “Captain Goodtimes over here doesn’t think it would be proper to support tonight’s great cause with this...fine specimen on the bidding block.” He motioned up and down Loki’s long body, his endless limbs wrapped in the exquisite green suit that shimmered like blackbird feathers in the light. “Do you agree with him?” Tony yelled incredulously, winding up the baying crowd with a circling fist as chants of No filled the air. Steve was incandescent with embarrassment, redness flushing down beneath the collar of his shirt. “Are you ready to get a piece.of.this?” Tony roared, as Loki spun slowly on his heels, hands clasped behind his back before he raised them outwards with faux sheepishness. A smile tugged his lips, eyes smouldering across the crowd becoming steadily unsettled as friends became adversaries in the face of competition. Chaos was brewing.

You suddenly felt yourself jostled, Wanda’s hand grasping at your forearm before it slipped away. Swathes of guests crowded forward, each trying to be subtle and failing miserably. Men and women crushed together towards the stage, elbows popping dangerously close to eyes as they readied their paddles for action. “Let’s start the bidding at...twenty thousand.” Tony postured towards the fizzing audience, casting an appraising glance back towards Loki who met his stare with a tilt of his head. His lips pursed, a silent 'ooo' sliding between his lips as he feigned offence.

Tony grinned, pressing the microphone innocently to his chin. “Number seventeen, I see you.” he pointed. “Twenty five thousand.” a strangled voice shrieked behind you. “Twenty-five, not bad.” Tony mumbled, beginning to pace. Loki swung the handle of his cane casually, before making it flip in the air and land expertly back in his grip. The crowd groaned in unison, the scent of mass arousal beginning to hang heavy in the air. You felt your pussy clench beneath your party dress, beads of sweat beginning to form on your collarbone. In a flash, the cane disappeared, as Tony let his forefinger trail down the silk of Loki’s waistcoat, toying with a chain hanging from the pocket. “It’s a nice suit Laufeyson – you’ve got quite the wardrobe, but I think your bidders are more interested in what’s underneath all that slutty satin am I right?” he said coyly, raising an eyebrow. Feral roars of approval sounded around you, as you were shunted back and forth. The man beside you shot up his hand. “Thirty-five!” he yelled, waving the paddle in the air. The increments came like bullets as Loki’s fingers toyed with the silk cravat wound around his neck, sliding the material teasingly from the curve. He threw it into the audience, two women falling to the floor as they became a squabbling mess of bare legs and dishevelled Chanel.

This can’t be happening, you thought with a wave of panic. You clenched the paddle in your fist to your chest, watching the smouldering sweep of Loki’s gaze run like treacle over his captive audience as he began to shrug the satin jacket from his shoulders.

“Fifty!” you heard yourself gasp, arm straight in the air. Tony’s face scrunched, his amusement palpable as he acknowledged the desperate bid with a nod. But it was white noise. “Sixty-five!” the man beside you blurted immediately, shouldering you roughly to the side as he squeezed forwards. You cast a pleading look towards Wanda, who shook her head in disapproval. Tony didn’t have to say a word, pointing to each bidder as they continued to come thick and fast. Loki held his waistcoat with one long finger, dangling it teasingly to the side before letting it drop. It vanished before hitting the floor. Seventy. Eighty-two. Ninety-five thousand. The devastatingly erotic god treated each button of his shirt like an act of foreplay. His fingers caressed the curve before releasing another sliver of fair skin to the sound of baying moans of desire all around you. Beginning to force your way against the tide of bodies to Wanda, you collided with Scott. “Oh hey.” he grinned, eyes wide with excitement. “This is fucking ca-ray-zy right?” Another wave of squeals told you Loki had reached the end of the line of buttons. Suddenly Scott raised both arms, throwing his head back. “A HUNDRED N’ FIFTY BIG ONES!” he yelled, returning to his previous stance as if nothing had happened.

“What?” he quipped casually, giving a shrug of resignation as he was immediately outbid. “Just shooting my shot. Plus, this is legend already. Iconic. No way I ain’t gonna be part of that.” You rolled your eyes, beginning to press against the mass of bodies to the side. “We should get t-shirts. ‘I bid on Loki Laufeyson’…” he joked to no-one. “’And all I got was this stupid semi.’” he added wistfully as you finally reached Wanda. “I saw your bid. It was kind of lame.” she drawled. You shook your head. “I don’t know what to do Wanda.” you whined, wringing your hands. You heard a commotion as the crowd parted over near the doors – a woman had fainted. Loki’s smirk was pure drama as he showed off the endless length of his body with finesse, bare chest glowing beneath the stage-lights. His legs were wide – a perfect triangle wrapped in tight, luxurious cotton that creased against his thighs. The bulge of his cock was clearly visible, every subtle sway of his hips making the fabric stretch against the outline. The bladed angles of his face flashed tantalisingly beneath heavy-lidded eyes as he reached for his belt buckle. Five hundred thousand. Five-fifty. Six hundred.

Wanda rolled her eyes again. “Look – if he doesn’t say it back? Well then he’s the same asshole he’s always been. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that.” she mumbled, taking another sip of her drink. “But the auction-” you whined, feeling Wanda’s other-worldly grip tighten on your wrist. “You’re an Avenger, dumbass.” she growled. “Fuck the auction.” “Fuck the auction.” you repeated unconvincingly under your breath, turning to face the source of your undoing. Loki’s eyes met yours across the room as he ambled forwards, ignoring the hordes of guests who had lost all sense of decorum scrounging at the stage’s edge. They were feral. Over the chaotic din, you could swear you heard the clunk of metal as his graceful fingers toyed with the metal fastening at his hips. He slid the leather out of its loops slowly. Tony wolf- whistled. “Hoooo-eee folks, do I hear seven hundred thousand for a night of debauchery with this actual...real life...bona-fide sex god. Think of the orphans, people.” he jibed, working the crowd into a frenzy. Eight hundred, eight-fifty, nine hundred. You watched the constant flash of frenzied paddles rise and fall, your breaths becoming ragged under duress. “Do I hear one million?!” Tony smarmed, unfurling his arm towards Loki who had placed his hands on his hips, working the waistband of his trousers down to reveal the V of his muscles. “Come on, we’ve all seen the Twitter photos...don’t pretend you haven’t read the tabloids - you know he’s worth it.” Loki flicked a strand of hair back from his eyes, throwing Tony a slow wink as a paddle for the one million bid rose tentatively in the air. Fuck, Tony. you thought, slamming your paddle down to the bar table. “Are you gonna use that?” a woman behind you mumbled inaudibly, before sliding it away. Your frantic eyes found Amanda, still seated elegantly at one of the high stools. There was something different about her tonight, you pondered; as she waited with a look of unbreakable concentration. Waiting to pounce.

There were gasps as Loki reached one arm up, the mouth-watering curve of his bicep matched only by the tight stretch in his obliques. He tilted his chin down, the coquettishly slutty pose making you realise a flood of wetness had begun pooling traitorously between your thighs. He slowly dragged the hair-tie from his messy bun, letting waves of curls fall around his collarbone. “Final bids, folks.” Tony sighed. “I don’t think Laufeyson can take off any more clothes without Steve-y boy going into cardiac arrest.” he quipped, fighting to contain laughter as he glanced at Rogers concealed off stage. Final bids. A wave of nausea rolled in your belly. Who had bid last? Was it the stockbroker, the mayor’s wife? Obama? You couldn’t tell, the mass of jostling bodies melding into one horrible sludge of jealousy. “Two million.” a clear-cut voice called over the carnage. Every head in the room turned to gape at the owner, but you didn’t even need to look. It was her. Tony released a low whistle, spinning on his heels and patting Loki on the shoulder with a commiserate shake. “Two million. No pressure, bud. Hope the royal sceptre has been resting recently.” he mumbled with feigned secrecy into the microphone. Loki chuckled, leaning over. “A veritable bargain, I assure you.” he smirked. “That’s my boy!” Tony chuckled gleefully, spinning to the front. “Two million going once…” Your eyes were wide, turning to Wanda who nudged her head frantically to the head of the room. Tackle him, it said. “Two million going twice…” - “Where’s my paddle…?” you gasped, not thinking straight, “I..fuck.” “Sold!” Tony yelled, to moans of disappointment and reluctant clapping. “To the beautiful Amanda Goldberg for two...million...dollars. Come get your prize, m’lady.”

You saw red, the room starting to spin as the applause grew louder. The flow of Amanda’s dress swirled towards the stage, a bare-chested Loki down on one knee to welcome her with a kiss on her outstretched hand. “Loki, no!” you gasped quietly– pushing the crowd to the side as you elbowed forward. His arm slid around Amanda’s shoulders, planting a lingering kiss on her cheek with a secret smile. “Loki!” you yelled, shoving the final obstacle from your path. Tony. He spluttered, waving his hands dramatically as you hopped onto the stage and took three stumbling steps to where Loki waited with hands clasped behind his back. Even in his stripped state, messy curls hanging devilishly around his chiselled features dark with the lust of baying adoration – he was a prince. Your prince. The crowd began to whisper, awkward murmurs of dissent bubbling like lava at your back. You could feel the heat of their confusion wafting against your skin as it rose in your cheeks. Loki stared unblinking, his eyes narrowing for a split second as he analysed your stricken features.

“Can I help you?” he purred innocently, drumming his fingers around Amanda’s bicep. She gave a loud, cartoonish giggle. You swallowed harshly, throat dry. Loki tilted his head, feigned-confusion painted on his ethereal features. You grasped at your clutch bag, feeling it click open with a fumble of your moist fingers. “I wanted to give you this...back.” you stuttered, arm outstretched with his ancient seal in the flat of your palm.

Loki looked at it for what felt like an eternity, before his eyes finally rose.

“Are you sure you wish to return this to me?” he murmured, arm dropping from Amanda’s shoulder. His chin was tilted to his chest, ropes of muscle flexing at his neck. The growing whispers of the crowd faded to nothing, the beat of your heart the only sound as it thudded in your ears. “No, actually.” you heard yourself say, voice trembling. Loki inhaled sharply. His chest puffed, hard abdominals clenching as he braced himself. Reluctant tears stung your eyes, fingers shaking as the heavy seal began to quiver in your outstretched hand. You tried to blink the impending flood away, glancing to the side. Steve stood behind the wings, wringing his hands with a deep frown. Your eyelids fluttered shut, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. You could hear Tony trying to clear the crowd, tempting them to the bar with the offer of free booze, before Loki’s warm breath fanned your forehead. “Then do not return it.” he said, carefully wrapping your fingers around the cool metal. His hand clasped your own, squeezing gently as he lowered to your ear. “It is yours.” he whispered. It is yours. Maybe it was the scent of him, maybe it was the heat of his naked skin so close, the warmth with which his fingers intertwined with yours, holding his sacred mark. Maybe it was the faint plead in his voice. But as your eyes rose along the carved lines of his chest and up the curve of his neck, savouring every inch – you somehow knew what you would find. Loki’s eyes shone with nervous anticipation, brows slanted upwards as he licked his bottom lip. His teeth caught the curve, pulling gently. They swam with worlds unseen and words unsaid, long lashes framing the endless chaos you had lost yourself within. Hopelessly.

A rogue tear rolled down your cheek, making you look away. “No, darling...no-” Loki murmured, confusion lacing his tone as he wiped it softly with his thumb.

He cupped your face, drawing it towards him. “Please, Loki...don’t.” you gulped, swallowing the force threatening to humiliate you in front of the whole of New York high society. He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. Tendrils of his hair grazed your cheeks, curtaining you from the crowd at your back as his fingertips slid from your jaw to your shoulders; gently at rest. “Agent, I…” he started, breath trembling. His grip tightened, a staggered exhale making his stomach clench. Three loud slaps sounded by your feet, making you jump. Loki released you with a growl, as you spun towards a very pissed-off looking Tony resting casually on the side of the stage.

“Can you guys hurry up? Trying to save this thing, here. Thanks, Laufeyson, by the way, for the added theatrics. Very amusing, as always.” he scoffed dryly, inspecting his nails. “Will you desist?” Loki hissed, crouching forward. Tony shrugged. “Better get the two mill for the orphans. That’s all I’m saying. Little Loki’s got his work cut out tonight.” “Little?!” Loki snarled indignantly, sweeping his hair back from his forehead as he rose to his full height once more.

The vein in his temple twitched, anger flashing across the sharp profile you knew so well. You grasped his bicep, feeling the tight bulge soften as his breaths steadied. Nerves twisted in your belly like acid, the room beginning to swim as you felt the moment begin to pass. Not again. You took a deep breath; “Loki, what were you going to-” The god whipped round, jaw set in a grimace as he swiped against your forearm with his own. Your hand was swept from his bicep, caught in a millisecond by the warrior grasp of his long fingers. “That I love you, you infuriating woman.” he yelled ferociously, brow furrowing as he realised he had said it aloud. You gaped, frowning as you fought lacklustre against his iron grip. Breaths quickened in your chest, panting as you looked at the abject fear beginning to creep into Loki’s eyes. The gazes of a hundred confused spectators became nothing but a blur, their mutters fading. You stilled, letting your hand become limp. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. Suddenly, you lunged towards him - hooking your free arm around his shoulders. Loki swallowed a gasp as your lips met his with force, a low sigh breathing into your mouth as he melted into you. The god’s hands travelled to your ass, hoisting you around his hips as his tongue massaged your own with wild intensity. A palm slid up your back, winding in your hair as he pushed your face roughly to his. You could hear the PG-curses of Rogers as he frantically hoisted the stage curtains closed, his inane blustering audible over the gasps of intrigue from the crowd beyond. Loki’s feral kisses had moved to your neck, the desperate adrenaline coursing through him as he devoured your soft skin in messy sucks. You found your fingers curling in his lengths, pulling his head back gently. Just like the old days, you thought with a thrill. He frowned, panting. Loki wet his lips, preparing to speak before you covered his mouth with a flat palm. “I love you too, you infuriating whatever-you-are.” you enunciated slowly, lips feeling heavy with the force of his affections. The god’s brows slanted, deep lines appearing in his forehead as he shook his head from side to side; making your hand slip away. “Truly?” he growled incredulously, peering up through ebony lashes. “Truly.” you whispered, watching a smile as radiant as an April sunrise creep slowly across his face. “What happened to ‘I know you love me, Agent’…” you coyed, impersonating the timbre of his voice as he lowered you to the ground. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you flush to his bare chest. “Knowing and feeling are two different things, Agent.” he purred, before placing a languishing kiss on your forehead. “What would be the point in your love for me...” he murmured, muffled against the skin, “if you did not believe it yourself?” There was silence as Loki’s fingertip tenderly grazed your collarbone, steady breaths rising and falling between you as he nuzzled into your temple with a low sigh. You opened your eyes over Loki’s shoulder. “Oh – shit, what about her?” you groaned, giving a small, awkward wave to Amanda several meters away. That’s weird, you thought; frowning. She’s smiling. Smiling like...

Loki’s hand rose, a click of his fingers making the emerald skirts of Amanda’s dress begin to smoulder with bright green flame. “My brother owed me quite a few favours, Agent…” he murmured apologetically with a smile against your cheek.

Your eyes widened as a bulky frame peeled into view behind the mirage of Loki’s magic. But the grin – the grin was still the same. Thor flicked his hair, running his palms down his torso. “That’s better.” he rumbled, throwing you a wink. “Sorry about that…” he chuckled. “Motivation was required, apparently.” He folded his meaty forearms. “I still think you’re mad for being in love with him, by the way. But there’s no accounting for taste.” “You better not have started another Oath of Most Ass-yoor-red Recompense scenario.” you muttered dryly to your dark-haired lover, making another smile stretch across his face. He pulled you tight. “No, darling. This was purely fraternal reparations. Isn’t that right, brother?” he growled. “I have been reliably informed that I have been, what you call, a dick-head.” Thor grumbled penitently, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Indeed.” Loki hummed coldly, before his voice softened. “But tonight has gone some way to mending said wrongdoings. Along with your agreed donation to the orphan-fund, naturally.” “Naturally.” Thor grumbled, averting his eyes. Loki’s fingers toyed with the shell of your ear, the tips exploring the angle of your jaw lightly as if for the first time. “I believe that we should..talk? As is the custom I believe? If you’ll permit it.” You nodded, giddy disbelief still coursing through your veins. “As long as it’s not in this fucking ballroom.” you scoffed, before squealing as Loki gathered you effortlessly against his chest bridal style. “Gods, no.” Loki purred, capturing your lips in a wet kiss before his tantalisingly moist lips grazed your ear. “I think it’s time you finally saw my chambers, Agent -don’t you?”

Continued in Final Bids: Love Wins Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @wheredafandomat @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @123forgottherest @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @cheekyscamp @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @cheekyscamp @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman

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existentialcynic · 1 year

Text

knight in black leather

Janine ditching you on a night out might just work in your favour.

Pairing(s): melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

Word count: ~1.4k

Warning(s): suggestive themes but no actual smut, mild harassment

You didn’t realise you were even tipsy until you stood up from the couch you were sharing with Janine - scratch that, Janine and Gregory. When did he get here? Why were you here? When the decidedly reserved Miss Teagues invited you out with her to the hookah bar with a woman you had already forgotten the name of, you expected to have one drink before your work friend called it quits and wanted to leave. Instead, she’s one encouraging nudge away from shoving her tongue down another colleague’s throat, and you couldn’t interrupt to ask her to drive you home.

Shouldering your way through the thick crowd, you walk into the - surprisingly - empty bathroom, grimacing at the way your shoes stick to the floor as you sway slightly. Pulling out your phone, your finger presses the screen to call Jacob.

“Hello,” he answers after a few rings, dragging the word out and causing you to raise a brow he can’t see.

“Jacob? Janine is… busy and can’t drive me home. I don’t want to waste half my paycheque on an Uber, can you come get me?”

He laughs a little too loud, making you pull the phone away from your ear. “No can do I’m afraid, I’m getting turnt with Barb and Mel.”

Laughter bubbles out of your chest - you can practically feel the eye rolls your other colleagues are giving the oblivious man on the phone. A faint voice floats through the phone, the unmistakable Philly accent making you blush in your inebriated state. “Who’s that? Your shoe guy boyfriend?” Jacob huffs into the phone, and you listen quietly as he explains “the deets” to Barbara and Melissa. A bit of shuffling meets your ear before the woman of the hour speaks directly into the phone.

“Hey, I’ll come get you, I’m not drunk like numb nuts here. I live closer anyways.” You can hear Barb start to say something, but Melissa cuts her off. “If you puke in my car you’ll wish you never went into teaching in the first place.”

“I’m not that drunk,” you groan, “Janine just ditched me and she’s my ride.”

“Whatever hot shot. I’ll be there soon.” She hangs up before you can respond. Deciding one last drink can’t hurt, you exit the bathroom and slide into an empty seat at the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention.

“Now what’s a sexy thing like you doing all alone,” questions a jarring male voice from behind you. Plastering the most convincing smile you can muster, you turn to see a man undressing you with his eyes and leaning in way too close for comfort.

“I’m just waiting for my ride,” you reply, turning back to sip on the drink the bartender brought to you as the man spoke up again. “I can be your ride baby, in more ways than one,” he smirks, gripping the buckle on the front of his pants. Downing the drink, you grimace before stepping off the chair and away from the guy that just won’t take a hint.

“I’m good, actually.” A well-timed text lights up the screen on your phone, letting you know your redheaded colleague is outside. Shouldering past him and into the crowd, you slowly make your way to the door.

The icy December wind hits your body as you leave the warm, tobacco-scented air from the bar. You can almost feel yourself sobering up in the cold. Spotting Melissa idling at the curb, you start towards the parked car before a hand grips at your upper arm.

“C’mon baby, let me show you a good time.” The man from the bar turns you towards him, the stench of liquor coming off him in waves. “Don’t be a tease.”

“Hey I’m not interested, get your hands off me,” you snap, yanking your arm back with no luck. The man is inches taller than you, and strong if his grip was any indicator. Your heart races when you see that he’s starting to get angry.

A soft, warm arm wraps around your waist, fingers digging into your hip. The contrast between it and the man in front of you makes you shiver. The voice that you heard over the phone earlier is eerily sharp, accent thicker now that the owner is irritated. “Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?”

Turning your head, the redhead holds your gaze; her eyes are soft but have an edge to them that would have made you blush if there wasn’t a stranger gripping your arm. “No, I’m okay.”

A dark chuckle escapes the older woman’s lips. Moving to face the drunkard in front of the two of you, any kindness that she had shown you dissolves as she starts to speak. “My girlfriend is a lot nicer than me. Get your hands off her or it’ll be the last time you use that hand for a long time, I guarantee that.”

“Whatever bitch,” the man spits out, loosening his hold and moving back towards the bar. That soft hand around your waist moves up to your bicep, massaging it gently as its owner ducks her head to look at your face. “Hey, are you okay honey?” You give her a dazed nod, your brain only focusing on the woman touching your arm.

“Are you sure?” Her other hand moves to your face, palm cupping your reddening cheek. You nod again.

“I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you return, hand coming up to slap over your mouth after your thoughts slip out. Damn that last drink. The laugh from earlier meets your ears again, Melissa’s eyes darting down to your covered mouth. Her fingers slip around your wrist, moving your hand away from your face and using the grip to pull your body closer to hers.

You knew you were sobering up fast but the touch of the woman in front of you is making your head swim, your stomach flutter. A stuttering breath escapes your lips when Melissa’s hand grabs your hip possessively, no longer putting on a show for anyone. “Really? That was nothing. I can do so much better than that, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” She nods, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Eyes glancing at the ruby lipstick, you watch a smirk bloom as she catches you staring. Your cheeks are no doubt the same shade as the swipe of colour you were looking at, and you slowly meet Melissa’s fiery gaze.

“Why don’t you show me then, Schemmenti?”

Instantly, the soft lips that had you hypnotised earlier are now pressed against your own. The hand wrapped around your wrist moves to your bicep, your shoulder, and up the nape of your neck. Sharp acrylics drag across your scalp before gathering a fistful of hair and giving an experimental tug that has you practically whimpering. It gives her the leverage to slip her tongue into your mouth, confidently brushing it against yours. She tastes like sugar cookies and wine as red as her lips. Fumbling, one hand grips the lapel of her jacket - leather, your favourite - while the other moves underneath it to dig your fingers into her lower back. It pulls an appreciative groan from the other woman, and she starts to back you towards her car.

Your back hits the side of Melissa’s car, forcing a chuckle out from your chest. Pulling away from the redhead, you press kisses down her jaw, stopping just below her ear. “You playing the protective girlfriend role is doing something to me, Mel,” you sigh, biting her pulse point softly enough that it won't leave a mark. It prompts her to tighten her hold on your hair, and you let out a deep moan at the slight sting.

“Is that right, honey?” You hum in response, pulling her free hand forward until she's cupping you through your pants. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, red as sin itself. Pupils blown, Melissa kisses you hungrily, not removing her hand but not daring to go further. Pulling back, you grab her chin to make her look at you.

“Take me somewhere private and I’ll show you just how much,” you murmur, watching Melissa stutter before turning to the car door she’s pressed you next to and opening it for you. Settling in the seat as Melissa rounds the car, you’re still catching your breath as she starts the engine. “I live closer,” Melissa states, just as breathless as you are as she pulls away from the curb. Chuckling as you remember that phrase from earlier - in a much different context - you squirm in your seat at the thought of what’s to come.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x gn!reader #melissa x reader #melissa x gn!reader #fanfics by fern #jasper writes #existentialcynicofficial

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alcoholfreenayeon · 7 months

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your jealous tzuyu thoughts sound amazing... how about describing them more? i need more dom!tzuyu on tumblr!

A/N: You are so right about that🤭also I’m sorry it took so long to finish this😭💔

Aching for more…

Tzuyu x fem!reader

CW: suggestive, mild smut

You were feeling a bit tired of repeatedly introducing yourself to the people but since there were so many people here who wanted to meet your girlfriend you had to bear it. It was her moment after all. An hour later, the crowd had spread into little groups and you had your girl to yourself for a few minutes. Like always, you teased with a witty comment before looking at her with a proud smile. The two of you were chatting happily when Tzuyu was called and you were left all alone.

You sigh in resignation accepting that you wouldn’t have Tzuyu until you both went home. As you take out your phone, you saw someone approaching you through your peripheral vision. However you paid them no attention until they started to introduce themselves. Looking up, you saw that it was a pretty girl, she looked somewhat familiar.

“Hey Y/n, you look really good tonight”, she complimented.

You politely thank her with a smile, she’s sweet, you think to yourself.

“I’m surprised someone like you is alone though, I’m sure we can have fun together. I tried some of the food and it’s really good, wanna grab something?”, she continues.

You feel a bit skeptical as it felt like she was suggesting something while intending for something else. Nevertheless, you thought it would seem a bit rude, like it was just trying out some of the food, right? You decided to go against your gut and followed her. She led you to the snack bar and handed you a plate of rolls.

“So, how come you are alone here?”, She asked again.

“Uh, I am actually here with Tzuyu”, you clarify tentatively.

“Wow, really?”, something about her tone changed but you couldn’t tell what exactly, “If I were her, I would keep a pretty one like you at my side at all times you know”, she says and smiles suggestively.

“Oh…uh…well, I-”, you stammer as you didn’t expect her to be so straightforward.

“Come on, you know it’s true. Why don’t you let me…entertain you till she comes back…”, she smirks and puts a finger on your cheek.

Before you could reply, a hand grasps your shoulder from behind, “There you are Y/N, I was looking for you”, Tzuyu says with a forced polite smile.

“Oh, Tzuyu, I can-”, You panic, realizing how the whole thing must have looked to her.

“It’s alright, that’s just how she tries to make friends”, Tzuyu says politely but her tone sounds hostile. "Its about time we leave anyway, its getting late."

You gulped as Tzuyu grabbed your hand tightly and led you out. “We are going home now”, she said sternly.

The drive back was in complete silence. You didn’t know whether you should explain the whole thing to her or not. It seemed like the girl and Tzuyu knew each other but didn’t like each other at all. As you both enter your home, Tzuyu suddenly grabs you by your shoulder and turns you around, so you face her and stares at you intensely for a brief moment before just as suddenly she begins to kiss you aggressively. A few seconds later, she pulls away and pushes against the wall, locking both your arms above your head with her hand and looks at you sternly.

D-did she just push you against the wall??!! "T-Tzuyu, what-", You squeaked but she cut you off by covering your mouth with her hand.

Y/n, you aren’t allowed to talk right now. I still can’t believe you took so long to tell her off. That really upset me you know. Don’t you know that you only belong to me. “She spoke with anger, no, it was more like frustration.” Now I am angry and now you are responsible for what I’m going to do.

She then proceeds to turn you around and push you against the wall again, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back, kissing you aggressively while groping your chest with her free hand.

You couldn’t do anything but let Tzuyu do as she wanted as she had completely pinned you. You were feeling a bit guilty because you didn’t mean to upset Tzuyu at all, you were just trying not to cause a scene. You wanted to explain to her what happened from your perspective, but you also didn’t want to stop her kissing you. Especially with the unexpected aggressiveness and possessiveness she was showing, something about it felt…right. Like you wanted Tzuyu to do as she liked while you were completely helpless.

As your thoughts were processing what was going on, Tzuyu finally stopped kissing you and only then did you realize as you were huffing how out of breath you were. But Tzuyu wasn’t done yet, lifting your face so you could look into her eyes, “You look so pretty…...”, her hand gripping your chin slightly tighter while she pulled back your hair harder as well.

For some reason, you began to blush really hard, surprising yourself, you hadn’t been shy or nervous or anything in almost forever around Tzuyu. So why are you feeling like this now. Was it-

Your thoughts were interrupted as Tzuyu suddenly leaned in again, causing you to exhale sharply, and began to make out with you once more. A whole minute passed, and she showed no signs of stopping. Almost another minute now and you were out of breath now, “T-tzuyu”, you weakly moaned, “C-can’t breathe….”.

Hearing that, Tzuyu reluctantly pulled away slightly, both of you panting hard now, looking at each other with primal desire. You were feeling very hot, pressing your legs together tightly and being looked at like that by Tzuyu didn’t help. She started to lean in again and you eagerly closed your eyes, impatiently waiting to feel her lips again but were instead a bit startled when Tzuyu whispered in your ear, “Let’s go to our bed”.

You made your way there somewhat hastily, your thoughts hazy. Tzuyu followed you, seeming completely relaxed and stopped at the doorway, leaning against the frame, smirking as she watched you try to undress quickly.

“Stop.”, she practically ordered you causing to be startled as Tzuyu speaking with such authority was still surprising to you. “Just lay down”, she commands which you obviously follow. Unsure of what to expect from this new Tzuyu but nevertheless you are still quite excited in anticipation of what she’ll do to you next. She then finally enters the room, looking at you like prey, her eyes burning with desire.

She walks gracefully up to the end of the end and then in one smooth swoop, leans over you, placing her hand on your chest and slowly moving up onto your throat where just for a moment her grip tightens before she stops it at your jaw. She examines your face for a moment before making you look at her, “Y/N, you’ll be good to me, won’t you?”, she asks while gritting her teeth.

You nod eagerly but Tzuyu stops you. “Don’t just nod, say it out loud. That you’ll be a good girl for me.”, she orders, squeezing your cheeks.

You couldn’t believe Tzuyu, YOUR Tzuyu was going to make you say that out loud but right now you felt completely vulnerable to her, she could do whatever she wanted to you, and you would accept. You were feeling like doing anything for her. “I…. I am going to be good for you, I promise.”, you promise her. “Good girl”, she replies approving of your obedience. “Now we can continue”.

She then goes on to strip you, stopping to play with your boobs. Groping, squeezing and even lightly slapping them as she pleased. You already really turned on and all this was now really starting to drive you insane. You needed her NOW, but she was happy to take her own sweet time, practically torturing you. You wanted to scream in frustration but with the way Tzuyu was behaving right now that might not be the wisest idea to get your release, so you keep yourself quiet for now.

Tzuyu smirked to herself, proud of the effect she was having on you. She was beginning to get used to ordering you around, it was really fun. Hearing those little whines and whimpers from you as she explored your body. The way you were desperately spreading your legs each time her hands went down low. How cute of you to be so eager.

After what seemed like eternity, she finally moved her hands down to your pelvis, tracing her fingers softly over it causing shivers down your legs. When she finally touched your entrance you gasped, her fingers feeling so cold. Tzuyu rubbed her fingers in a circular motion, smirking, “Wow Y/n, you are so wet. You have been wanting this really bad, haven’t you?”, she whispered while nibbling on your earlobe. “Don’t worry I am going to take care of you”.

You could only moan in reply. If this was just the start of the main event, then all that suffering was worth it because she barely touched you and you already feel like you are in heaven. After feeling you for a few moments she finally put her fingers in you earning another gasp from you. Going knuckle deep with 2 fingers, Tzuyu began to work her magic and you felt like you could cum within moments. As if that was not enough, Tzuyu used her free hand to play with your chest.

“oh, your moans are so cute”, Tzuyu whispers, really trying hard now and it pays off almost instantly. You feel like all the air in your body has been sucked out, your eyes start to roll up, your hips begin to buckle, and you feel like your stomach is tightening and that’s when it all stops. You softly gasp, expecting a massive wave of shocking pleasure but nothing happens. In fact, your pleasure seems to be fading rapidly and then out of nowhere Tzuyu takes her fingers out of you. You feel really confused, like what is happening….

Tzuyu smiles prettily at you, “that was really fun Y/N”, and then kisses you with some passion but it feels one sided since you don’t kiss her back. Still clueless to what is happening. “T-tzuyu? I…I didn’t cum…”, you manage to say weakly.

She smiles, a hint of mischief in her smile, “Yes, I know that Y/N”.

“But…….”, you try to question.

“Mmmhhmm” She chides in, “Consider this as punishment for letting someone else flirt with you for so long.”, She then cups your cheek for a moment and gets up. “But if you are good tomorrow, I will make it up to you”, she adds before leaving you there, messy, horny, and unsatisfied.

You lay there, taking a minute to process Tzuyu just completely edged you and left. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you cover yourself under a blanket and contemplate, wow she REALLY just left you hanging for something that was NOT your fault. And she wants me to be her good girl, you scoff to yourself. I am going to be the biggest brat to her and then I will see how long Miss Iamsuddenlysomommy tolerates that then.

“You can’t even make a girl cum”

“I don’t think your mouth can do what it claims to talk about”

“You are just pretending to be so dominant right”

You smile to yourself as you think of all the things to say that will just piss Tzuyu off enough to come back for seconds.

#ask me anything #answered asks #twice #anon ask #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop headcanons #kpop imagines #reader x idol #twice x reader #twice tzuyu #tzuyu smut #tzuyu x reader #twice smut #chou tzuyu #twice scenarios #twice imagines

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minkoongi · 2 years

Text

say my name - kang yeosang

yeosang x y/n x mingi

word count: 3790+

synopsis: you and yeosang have been friends for years. lately, things have been getting rather tense between you two but neither want to confront anything in fear of ruining your friendship. after yeosang invites you to his concert, all bets are off when he acts like you don't exist the entire time. will you finally have the courage to face your fears and tell him how you feel? or will you get yourself into a situation you may not be able to handle?

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni), explicit language, implied consent, dom yeosang and Mingi, sub reader, threesome, hand jobs, oral sex (male and female receiving), dirty talk, cum eating, mild bisexual behavior, creampie, crying, slight breeding kink if you squint, aftercare, lil tiny bit of fluff at the end.

a/n: im seeing ateez in a few weeks and the photos/vids of them on this US tour are driving me insane. so this is the result of that???? idk i did this mainly for sommer and spooks so i hope you like it

You watched with wild eyes as your best friend stood on stage with sweat dripping down his body. Yeosang invited you to his concert weeks ago but you didn't actually say yes until the last minute. It’s not that you didn’t want to go. Of course you wanted to support Yeosang and the rest of Ateez but things were growing more complicated between you two recently. What started as a few innocent glances here and there, have turned into eye fucking each other every chance you had. He acted oblivious to his actions the one night you felt enough courage to ask him about it but deep down you knew he wasn't stupid.

Now you stood in your own vip suite in the arena they were playing at, watching him smile at the crowd of adoring fans. Your eyes couldn't help wonder across his toned body. He wore a black leather vest with large buckles on the straps and fitted dress pants. The outfit highlighted his rather small waist and muscular biceps. You weren’t sure if maybe it were the bright stage lights shining down on him or the angle in which your seat provided but he looked like a god. His black hair was slicked back and sweat glistened off his neck as he spoke to the crowd with beaming joy.

The concert went by in a blur. Before you knew it, you were being escorted backstage by their staff to the waiting room. You could hear their loud voices booming off the walls of the hallway as you prepared yourself to enter the room. Quickly smoothing down your dress, you give a slight nod to the staff member in front of you. They opened the door for you as you took your first steps in to greet the memebers. You didn't get very far before Wooyoung ran up to you with the happiest look on his face.

“y/n! You made it!”

He engulfed your small frame into a big hug.

“Of course I did. I’d never miss a chance to see my favourite boys!”

You chirped happily.

Your eyes quickly fell to Yeosang sitting quietly in the far corner of the room. His intense eyes were glued to his phone. Something about the lack of response to your arrival caused an ache in your chest. You pushed the feeling aside and took a seat next to Yunho and Mingi. Everyone asked you about your thoughts on the concert and what your favourite parts were. You kept the conversation going while sneaking small glances at Yeosang who continued to act as though you weren’t even there.

Eventually, one by one the boys excused themselves to go clean up before heading to the hotel. After chatting for a while the only people left in the waiting room were Mingi, Yeosang, and you. Both the boys were still wearing their stage clothes, at some point during your chat Mingi removed his hoodie he had on, leaving him in a loose fitting white tank top. You couldn’t help noticing the small things he was doing to draw your attention to his body. Whether it be fidgeting with the rings on his long fingers or adjusting the tank top ever so slightly so you can get a quick glimpse of this toned torso. You weren’t the only one who noticed what he was doing, Yeosang sat across from you with a look of jealousy plastered across his face. A part of you wanted to see how far you could take this situation before he admitted something was different between you two lately. You’d never imagine Yeosang actually acting upon anything so it was worth a shot.

Keeping up the causal conversation, you moved your body closer to Mingi. To the untrained eye, it would have looked like you simply shifted in your seat to get more comfortable but you knew exactly what you were doing. The movement caused your dress to ride up on your thighs ever so slightly. You could feel Mingi’s eyes scanning down your legs before making eye contact with you. When Yeosang first introduced you to his member, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Mingi attractive. As you became closer to everyone, Yeosang noticed something was going on between you and Mingi but when he asked you about it, you simply brushed it off. After that Yeosang never brought it up again. Mingi has kept his distance from you ever since that day. A part of you feels like Yeosang said something to him about it but you never had the courage to ask.

In this moment, you could feel the tension beaming off of Mingi. You knew he’d never do anything with Yeosang there so naturally you fixed your dress and flashed some puppy dog eyes towards him. After a minute or so, Yeosang looked up from his phone and narrowed his eye at you.

“What do you want?”

He said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Can you get me a bottle of water please”

Flashing a smile at him as he groaned.

“Now is that any way to treat your best friend who came all this way just to see you perform?”

You said lightly. You knew Yeosang better than most people. He would also grab himself a bottle of water and most likely drink it before heading back with yours. It would give you a few moments to push things a little further with Mingi. Nothing too scandalous but maybe just enough to make Yeosang more jealous than before. You knew it was wrong but at this point, if this was the only way you’d be able to get him to admit something more was going on, you were willing to risk it. Like clockwork, he excused himself from the room. shutting the door with a loud bang.

“You know he sees what you're doing right?”

Mingi said with a devilish grin.

“I have no idea what you're going on about, Ming”

You sighed.

“Righhht. You definitely didn't push your dress a bit just then to make Yeosang jealous”

You couldn’t help feeling your cheeks heat up at his comment. He noticed your reaction, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

“You know pushing his buttons may result in something you may not be able to handle, princess.”

His hand lightly brushed up against your exposed thigh causing you to shiver. Everything in your brain was telling you to abort and go find Yeosang to apologise but your body remained still. Before you could muster up a response, the door opened and Yeosang returned with a bottle of water for you. Mingi reluctantly removed his hand from your thigh and stood up from his seat. Nodded slightly to Yeosang and gave you a quick wink before closing the door behind him.

Yeosang didn’t speak to you the entire way to the hotel. You could tell he was fuming by the way his jaw ticked as he watched the building pass by. You were too nervous to say anything to him because you didn’t want to make him more upset. So you stayed silent until you reached your hotel room. Before entering the room, you took your chance to say something to break the tension.

“Yeosang I-”

You were cut off by his lips smashing into yours. His hands immediately grabbed onto your neck as he pulled you close to him. Your back fell against the door as you pressed yourself into him. Breaking the kiss as a small gasp left your mouth when he gripped your waist roughly. You don’t remember when or how the door opened but before you realised, you were making your way into the hotel room. His lips never leave your as you find your way to the bed. Yeosang gently pushes you onto the bed. His eyes were full of lust as he took in the sight before him. You paused to catch your breath for a moment, you wish you could pinch yourself to be sure this wasn't a dream. Youe attention snapped back into focus as his deep voice rang through the room.

“y/n, stand up and strip for me. I will be right back”

He said.

You shot him a confused look before rising from the bed. He could sense you were hesitant so he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Trust me”

Was all he said before turning on his heel and leaving the room. Your body shook with anticipation as you removed your clothing piece by piece until you were in nothing but your thin panties. You decided to keep a small part of your dignity by not removing them just yet. The door opened quickly as you turned to see Yeosang standing in the entryway to the room. The expression on his face almost looked much darker and devious. Something about this situation seemed a little odd as he continued to stand there with the door open. Without thinking you covered yourself, never removing your eyes from his.

“Would you look at that, she’s hiding herself from us”

Yeosang said in a low tone. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Us?

“Now, there’s no reason to be embarrassed. It’s just us, princess.”

Mingi’s tall frame stood behind him in the doorway. They closed the door before slowly walking towards where you stood. They’re eyes never leaving your body. You felt dizzy with confusion as they closed in on you. You couldn’t help the wetness pooling between your thighs as they stared at you like you were their last meal. Yeosang was the first to make contact with you. Snaking his hands around your waist, you leaned into his warm body. He spun you around on your feet so your back was flush against his chest. His hands continued to explore across your body leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“You wanted my attention so badly earlier you were willing to act like a little slut with Mingi when you know you're mine.”

Yeosang’s voice vibrated against your neck as he pulled you in closer to him.

“You’ve never claimed me as yours. I can do whatever I want-”

Your words fell short as his hands made their way to your throat causing you to gasp at the new sensation.

“You’re right, I haven't claimed you because you’ve always been a good girl. That was until you tried to use Mingi to make me jealous.”

Your face burned with embarrassment but also excitement. Yeosang has always been so sweet to you, this was a side of him you’ve never seen before. It turned you on more than anything.

“Now we’re going to punish you for being such a naughty girl. Do you understand, y/n?”

Mingi growled as he stepped towards you. Yeosang continued to roam his hands freely over your body as Mingi placed a finger under your chin, raising your head so you could look at him.

“He asked you a question. Be a good girl and answer him”

Yeosang suddenly slapped your ass, making you cry out in pain. You nodded your head eagerly. Mingi moved his hands up to your face to pull you into a deep kiss. It was much different than the kiss you shared with Yeosang. Mingi’s was more eager when Yeosang was passionate. Yeosang let out a low moan as he felt your body reacting to Mingi’s touch. Your brain felt fuzzy as you tried to keep up with what was going on. They’re hands found their way to your breasts, teasing them roughly as you let out a small moan.

“Fuck”

You moaned.

Mingi’s hand worked its way down your body and found your clothed core. He drew small circles over your clit causing your back to arch onto Yeosang chest. You could feel his hard cock pressed against your ass as you leaned on his. He let out a groan as you moved yourself against him. Mingi broke away from your body for a moment to lead you towards the bed. The sudden loss of body heat made you shiver. They guided you to lay on the bed as they began removing their clothes. Your fingers moved lightly over your core making you gasp and moan at how wet you were. Yeosang and Mingi stared at your with wide eyes as you continued to touch yourself for them. Bucking your hips and whining at the desperate feeling.

“Touch me please. I need you.”

You whined.

“Begging already, princess? You’ll have to try harder than that to get what you want.”

Mingi teased.

“After what you pulled tonight, you need to prove to us you deserve our attention.”

Yeosang said while removing the rest of his clothes. You pulled your hands away from your heat and crawled towards the end of the bed. Once you were seated between the two men, you started rubbing their clothed erections through their underwear. They both felt impressive in size. Mingi wasted no time freeing his painfully hard cock from the confines of his underwear. You didn't wait for any direction from him as you began pumping his cock at a slow but steady pace. Yeosang took his time taking in the sight before freeing himself as well. Watching his best friend, the girl he’s wanted more than anyone else, jerk off one of his members. Yeosang shouldn’t be are turned on as he is but the sight in front of his was too erotic not to be aroused.

Reaching your hand out for Yeosang, you begin pumping him at the same pace. Mingi was definitely longer than Yeosang by an inch or so but he made up for what he lacked in length with how wide his cock was. Both men let out soft moans as you continued working their cocks. You turned towards Yeosang, attaching your wet mouth to the tip of his cock, tasting the sweet precum that was leaking out of it. You couldn't help moan as you pulled him deeper into your mouth until you began to gag slightly. This earned a loud moan from both men as Mingi weaved his hands into your hair, controlling to the pace of you sucking Yeosang’s cock.

“Mmmmm just like that. What a good slut”

Mingi moaned. He was enjoying watching Yeosang fall apart as you worked your tongue on the underside of his cock. Pulling away to gasp for air, your mouth was quickly filled when Mingi turned your head towards him and shoved himself down your throat. Setting a rough pace, he practically fucked your face as you rubbed your thighs together. Feeling your wetness dripping down your thighs. Coming up for air, strings of spit hung off Mingi’s cock from your mouth. Turning your attention back to Yeosang, your hands came up to lightly cup his balls as you continued taking his deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, y/n. You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

You looked up at him as he dropped his head back in bliss. Mingi grabbed your hair once again and held you down on Yeosang’s cock. Both men moaned as you did your best not to gag all over him. Reaching next to you, you pumped Mingi’s cock at a rough pace. He released his grip on your head allowing you a moment to breathe. It only took a minute or so more before Yeosang was bucking his hips and coming down your throat. You gladly swallowed every drop before you were pulled to your feet and placed onto the bed.

Mingi came to your side, attaching his mouth to your nipple. Sucking and pulling lightly with his teeth, making you cry out in pain and pleasure. Your head spun as Yeosang left wet kisses up your legs towards your soaking cunt. In one swift motion your panties were removed, Yeosang’s mouth replaced where the thin fabric once sat. Your back arched off the bed as you threw your head back. Your hands found his hair, lightly tugging at his scalp as you bucked your hips, chasing your high.

“Please please please need to cum”

You practically screamed. Gripping on to Mingi’s hands as he held on to your throat cutting off your air flow. You were gasping for air until he released the grip on your neck. Oxygen didn’t have the chance to fill your lungs when your body was overtook by your orgasm washing over you.

“Hyung, let me taste her”

Mingi said in a husky voice. Yeosang pulled himself away from your dripping pussy and made his way up to where you laid. Without giving you a second to process what was going on as you came down from your high, Yeosang attached his mouth to Mingi’s in a deep kiss. You grew wet again and reached your fingers down to your sensitive clit as you watched the two men share your release on their lips.

“So sweet”

Yeosang hummed again Mingi’s lips. You couldn’t help moaning their names as they brought their attention back to you.

“It seems our baby girl isn't satisfied yet?”

Mingi hummed.

“Do you need to be filled up, princess?”

You nodded feverishly in response. Mingi made his way between your legs, pulling you closer until the tip of his cock ever so slightly penetrated your tight hole, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Slowly he pushed his way into you. Yeosang assumed the position behind you so your head was resting gently against his stomach. Mingi didn’t give you a chance to adjust to his size before pulling almost completely out then slamming back into you. Your tits bounced as he pounded into you.

“Look how well she’s taking my cock, hyung. Such a good girl for us.”

Mingi moaned. Yeosang hummed his approval as he brushed some pieces of hair from your forehead.

“My sweet y/n. Taking his cock like that. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Yeosang waited a moment for a response before reaching down and slapping your clit lightly causing you to scream.

“y/n use your words”

He said sternly.

“Yes yes yes feels so good”

You screamed. The pleasure was almost too much to bear as Mingi drilled into you. His thrusts became sloppy as high was approaching. You whined and whimpered about needing to cum and it being too much for you to take. Without warning, Mingi withdrew from you and let out hot robes on cum all over your stomach and cunt.

“Look at the mess you made, Min. Don't you think we should clean you up?”

Yeosang and Mingi dropped their heads down between your thighs and onto your stomach, licking up every drop of cum off of you. You were so fucked out you barely even noticed each of them shoving their fingers into your mouth so you can get a taste. The small licks against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves was enough to send you over the edge once again. You hadn’t even come down from your high before feeling Yeosang pushing his cock against your entrance. Unlike Mingi, Yeosang took his sweet time working himself into you.

“God, you feel like heaven. I’ve waited so long for this”

Yeosang moaned loudly as he pumped into your throbbing hole. Mingi laid next to you, drawing lazy circled on your clit as Yeosang fucked into you sweetly. He was nowhere near as rough as Mingi was but was still hitting so deep inside you, your legs shook.. Your body felt like it was on fire in the most marvellous way.

After a few minutes, his thrusts changed from slow and steady to fast and deep. Even in your fucked out state, you somehow managed to still moan his name as he drilled into your abused hole.

“Take this cock baby. This pussy belongs to me. All fucking mine.” Once again you were nodding like an idiot until Mingi placed his hands back on your throat and squeezed, earning a gasp from you.

“Use your words like a good girl, y/n”

He removed his hands from your throat allowing you to suck in a deep breath before responding.

“Yes, it belongs to you and only you. Fuck Yeosang dont stop!”

You screamed. Hearing his name was all the encouragement he needed to pick up the pace. He fucked into you harshly, your back arched so high you thought it might break if you took any more. Both of your orgasms were approaching as the entire room filled with the three of you moaning. Mingi pumped his cock in his fist at a steady speed while watching Yeosang slam himself into you.

“Please cum for me. Make me yours”

You cried. Tears spilled from your eyes as you clawed at his skin and held on to Mingi’s thigh as your third and final orgasm ripped through your body. Both men let out heavenly sounds as you came all over Yeosang’s cock. That was all he needed to push him over the edge as his thrust became sloppy.

“I’m gonna fuck every last drop of my cum into you”

Yeosang thrusted into you one last time before painting your walls with his seed. Mingi came within a second, spilling himself all over his hand and stomach.

The three of you laid in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Yeosang got up and walked to the bathroom. He returned a moment later with a warm towel and some water. Carefully they both cleaned you up and helped you to the bathroom. After you were done, Yeosang picked you up gently and brought you back to the bed. Tucking you into the soft blankets. You weren’t entirely sure when Mingi left but quietly Yeosang sank into bed next to you and pulled you close to him.

“Yeosang, I’m sorry for making you jealous-” He cut you off with a tender kiss before you could continue.

“Y/n, it’s okay. Honestly I wasn’t jealous. I asked Mingi to help me finally tell you how I felt because I didn’t know what to say. Of course, in typical Ming fashion, he came up with a better idea”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words.

“Oh so that was all his idea then?”

You questioned playfully.

“Shhh don’t ruin the moment”

Yeosang closed his eyes and pulled you closer to his chest. He had a grin that made your heart melt written all over his face.

“Fine I’ll let it slide as long as I have you all to myself next time”

You said quietly.

“Whatever you want, princess. You’ll have to tell Mingi yourself though”

#ateez #ateez smut #yeosang #yeosang smut #mingi imagines #mingi smut #yeosang imagines #ateez imagines #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #yeosang headcanons #18+#smut #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #ateez atiny

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chargeeboltz · 1 year

Text

thinning smokes - bakugo x reader

cw: 18+ nsfw, do not read if under 18 !! bakugo makes u cum on his fingers, gendered terms used (atta girl), mild praise kink if you absolutely squint

it doesn’t take long for you to realise your unforgiving crush on your classmate, given how his proximity makes your breathing stutter and your chest do somersaults. the day you come to the unfortunate conclusion that you’re very much into him, it’s possibly the worst conclusion you’ve come to in the entire time you’ve been in UA.

your eyes find him no matter the crowd, and honestly it’s not like you’re looking for him. he’s just hard to miss, with his abrasive personality and his loud voice. he’s with kirishima, the redhead shouting almost as loud as his blonde counterpart as they attempt to solve a dispute. the argument in question? kirishima bets bakugo can’t speak to anyone politely for more than one interaction.

“I absolutely could, shitface.” he scoffs, fixing kirishima with an unhappy look. it’s not quite angry, but god it’s enough to make you shiver from a distance. “for a day, even.”

kirishimas laugh reaches your ears, he’s grinning. “a week.” he challenges, and bakugo scoffs.

“easy.” he retorts, crossing his arms across his chest, and you feel your cheeks heat up as you watch the muscle ripple beneath his compression shirt. “it can be different people.”

“nope!” kirishima says, popping the p. he knows that he’s gotten under bakugo’s skin and he’s going to exploit this. “pick someone and stick to it.”

bakugo scoffs as he turns away, and your breath catches in your throat as he makes eye contact with you. you look away, your lunch suddenly the most interesting thing in the room despite the crimson eyes burning a hole in your head. you won’t look up, heart fluttering against your chest. the days of being able to hold a conversation with him were over, they ended the day he propped himself up against the doorframe in front of you and questioned you on your training regime with an expression so cocky you were half tempted to drop to your knees there and then.

denki grins, looking up at you. “oh you are so done, so fucking done for,” he taunts, fully aware of your little conundrum. “if he’s nice to anyone around you, you’re gonna be on your knees within-“ you cut him off with a cry, turning to glare at him.

“denki!” you snap, elbowing him with a little more force than may be necessary, but you figure he deserves at least that one. it’s lucky you did, because bakugo slams his tray down on the table, gritting his teeth as he does so.

“hello.” he mutters, casting his gaze down to the table as he sits down, looking around at his classmates. you respond after denki does, not wanting to be the first person to greet him. conversation flows easily between the group, casual insults thrown back and forth regarding recent test scores. you had done exceptionally, but you weren't going to bring it up for fear of 'bragging'. that plan, however, went out of the window when bakugo fixes you with a stare.

"what'd ya get?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. unbeknownst to you, he's actually nervous about your response. he's been determined to score higher than you, and he studied harder than previous for this test in particular, even abandoning his strict bedtime in favour of studying harder.

"92," you mumble, catching his eyes and fighting the urge to shy away. his face twists, and he slumps slightly.

"how'd ya do it?" he starts, forcing himself to be nice. "let me study with ya, ya always get too good results." he mutters, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth at the end.

your cheeks burn, a burn so intense you can feel it in your ears. with a nod, you go back to your food, taking a thoughtful bite and chewing it before opening your mouth. "when do you wanna study?"

bakugo looks down at his plate, then yours, then you. "now." he mutters, finishing his last mouthful and standing up. "we can go back to my dorm, yeh?" you nod, finishing your plate and reaching for it. before you can, bakugo has a grip on it and he's walking away.

you pause, looking at your friends for an idea of what to do, but they just shrug - equally clueless. before you get a chance to vocalise your confusion, bakugo is back and hes nodding for you to follow him, so you do. "this is - you don't normally do this," you manage, choosing your words carefully to avoid upsetting the blonde time-bomb of a person. he just chuckles lightly, an exhale of air that could be perceived as annoyance if he wasn't displaying the tiniest of smiles.

"i know. kirishima told me he bets i can't be nice to someone for a week. i figured you'd be the easiest bet. ya don't piss me off like the rest of those fuckin idiots." he scoffs, walking to his dorm with you in tow. "plus, yer smart as shit and i wanna learn from ya," he admits, pushing his door open with his shoulder and letting you in first, his eyes burning into the back of your head.

you smile lightly, looking up at him to thank him, before studying his room. it's typical of bakugo - black sheets and pillows, clothes hung neatly and desk perfectly empty other than the tiniest little cactus, and a photo of him with kirishima framed. you let out a chuckle, walking over to look at the photo, when bakugo gently pushes you.

"oi, come on. i wanna study," he grunts, pushing you to the bed where you sit with a little laugh, looking up at the blonde just in time to catch sight of him as he reaches over to tug a hoodie on. you inhale sharply, the thin sliver of skin showing as he reaches up, and your mouth goes dry. being in this close proximity to a bakugo who is this comfortable with you is going to ruin you, you're sure of it. before you can do or say anything, his eyes are back on you, and they're amused. "stop ogling me, ya ain't subtle,"

you just tut, rolling your eyes and looking away. "wasn't even looking at you, what is it you want to study?" you ask, reaching for your bag to pull out your books. your mind is preoccupied on both bakugo himself, and the idea of having to tutor him, so you don't realise when bakugo shifts himself closer to you and gently pushes his knee against your thigh.

"wanna see what i did wrong compared to yours," he mumbles, holding out a hand for your paper. his cologne tickles your nose, and you go lightheaded for a moment, passing him the paper wordlessly and looking back up at him. he takes it, his hand brushing yours and sending shivers down your spine, before he just chuckles. "you're real good at those 'fuck me' eyes," he teases, watching you closely.

your cheeks heat, yet again, he’s very good at doing that to you, you think. “fuck me eyes?” you counter, taking a step that’s a little more bold than you’re used to and leaning closer to him.

“are you projecting, bakugo?”

he laughs, eyes flitting down to your lips for a split second, a gesture you can't possibly miss when he's looking at you like that.

“maybe I am,” he hums, placing your paper down beside your thigh and resting his hand there instead, calloused fingers heavy through your pants. his eyes pierce, eye contact so intense that your breath runs lighter for a second.

"wanna fuck ya stupid, pretty," he murmurs, gently ghosting his lips across yours. "but i need ya to teach me first, you'd be too fuckin' dumb to teach me once i've had my fill of ya,"

you whine lightly, leaning forward to close the inch of distance between you, kissing him with a little more desperation than you'd like. katsuki bakugo moans against your lips, the noise sending a spike of heat between your legs, as he kisses you with equal desperation.

by the time you both pull away, panting and wide eyed, bakugo has your thigh firmly gripped in his hand, and he's trailing his other hand up your spine to grab the back of your neck.

"yer fuckin' lucky shitty hair told me to be nice," he hisses, tugging you in for another fervor kiss, tasting you with an intensity that has you squeezing your thighs together. your head swims, your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt and tugging him in closer, closer still. bakugo abandons all restraint, the hand on your thigh moving between them and gently running up your clothed core.

"off, now," he demands, voice gravelly, lips still only an inch from yours. "wanna see how wet ya are from me just kissing ya," he smirks, sliding his other hand to gently grip your hair in a ponytail.

you try to nod, whining at the sharp tug of your hair in return, hands fumbling to get your pants off for him. tossing them aside, you gently tug at his shirt, eyes wide and desperate. "please," you whisper, and bakugo just chuckles as he tugs his shirt off for you, lying you back against his pillows, surprisingly soft.

"ya okay?" he asks, looking at you with an expression that suggests nothing other than sincerity. "'m not gonna fuck ya, not yet anyway," he hums, waiting for your consent to move forward. you nod, but clearly it's not enough for him.

"yes, fuck- yes, please," you gasp, and he just chuckles, pushing your underwear aside and rubbing your clit lightly with his thumb. the noise you make goes straight to his dick, and it's all his self-restraint to not flip you over and make you scream his name there and then. his hands are rough, warm, and when he buries his fingers in you, you see stars, arching off the bed and crying out his name.

"mm, this what ya wanted?" he teases, curling his fingers to brush against the spongey spot that draws another moan from you. you nod, eyes squeezed shut as he breaks you with only two fingers. you're begging, breathless and desperate, and he increases the pace to bring you hurtling towards the edge.

"oh-! kats- fuck, i'm gonna-" he cuts you off, leaning down to kiss you with such desperation you're honestly surprised you don't clash teeth. teeth nip at your lip, and fingers brush against your spot, and that's all it takes for you to finish, vision whiting out and legs shaking.

he talks you through it, kissing at your neck and gently rubbing circles into your thigh. "atta girl," he purrs, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking at the way you squirm in embarrassment. "c'mon, i've got some shorts you can wear," he hums, standing up to grab you them.

"and you have some teaching to do," he teases, but there's nothing but warmth in his voice

(me when this sucks)

#chargeeboltz #mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki mha #bakugo katsuki bnha #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki imagine #bakugo katsuki headcanons #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo smut #katsuki smut

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noisynaia · 1 year

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Dreaming of You

Chapter five: I Get High On Your Memory

summary: An otherwise depressing night takes a turn when a pair of warm brown eyes belonging to a charming stranger lock with yours. Years later, at a different time of your life, a certain pair of brown eyes find their way back into your life.

word count: 3.9k

rating: E

pairing: Javier Peña x afab!reader

note: No use of (y/n). This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

Can also be read on ao3. Listen to the playlist.

(18+ minors, please don't interact)

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…I get high on the memory that you sent through me

I get high remembering how good you feel

I deliberately think of you

And every little thing you do

I get aroused, high on the cloud whenever I want you…

Javier’s thoughts are all over the place as he leaves the bookstore. Of all the women his dad could have been talking about when he said that a woman working in the little charity bookstore on Main Street had mentioned that she had met him he would never have guessed that it was going to be you. He is a little surprised that you even remember him, but he can’t help but feel glad that you do, cause he sure hasn’t forgotten you.

He actually remembers you better than he probably should. He had gotten himself off to the memory of you multiple times after your night together. It had been a good night, and there was no doubt that he found you very attractive, but there was something more to it, something about that short encounter with you back in 92’ that had stuck with him. There was just something about that night with you that had been different, maybe it was because he had just been Javi that night. He had been agent Peña for so long at that point…

And now you live here in Laredo, married to Bruce fucking Price of all people, looking just as beautiful as he remembers you. Javier doesn’t know what to think about all this, or if he even should think anything about it. He doesn’t actually know you, after all.

He knows Bruce Price though. He went to school with him. They had never been close, ran in different crowds, but they had been on friendly enough terms. Javier shakes his head, pulling out a cigarette and his lighter, placing the cigarette between his lips. It’s too fucking early but he suddenly feels desperate for a drink. He sighs at himself before cupping his hand around the unlit cigarette, flicking his lighter as he sucks fire into the tobacco, letting the smoke escape through his nose with a deep sigh.

---

You roll into your driveway a little after noon, your shifts at the store are never long. You are still feeling a little shell-shocked by the encounter with Javier this morning. You don’t know how you’re feeling, or even how you should be feeling so you decide to try and not think about him, even though it is difficult. You lock your car and rush inside, it’s boiling outside and you could use something cold to drink. You pour yourself a tall glass of lemonade from the fridge before going outside to the backyard patio, to drink your lemonade and smoke, the book you’re currently reading tucked under your arm. Bailey follows you and lays down at your feet. You smile at her, and she soon starts to snore softly, the heat always tiring her out.

You start reading, but you have a hard time concentrating, you keep reading the same paragraphs over and over and your book is soon discharged. You instead look out over your backyard, you had no prior experience with gardening but you are proud of the few things you have managed to plant. Your eyes land on the tall sunflowers that are gently nodding their big, yellow flowerheads in the mild wind. They are your pride and glory and the first thing you knew you wanted to plant when you moved into the house. You have always loved sunflowers, but now all they do is remind you of Javier again.

You sigh as you ash your cigarette, so deeply lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear the car pulling up in your driveway or the front door opening. You jump a little in your seat as you are being pulled out of your daze by Bruce’s voice as he steps out on the patio. It is way too early for him to be home, he is usually earliest back around five or six in the afternoon, often first coming back home way later, you get worried that something has happened, but he doesn’t look distressed in the slightest.

“Hey, honey.” He says as he walks over to you, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hi, you’re home early.” You say, looking up at your husband.

“Yeah, but I will have to go back to the office again. We are having some problems with some of the associates in London, so I will have to stay late tonight. I will probably first come home after you have gone to bed, so I thought I would come home and have lunch with you, you haven’t eaten yet have you?”

“Oh…” You are sad to hear that he has problems at work and that he has to stay late in the office, but it is not unusual, your husband seems to be constantly busy with work. “You should have called before you left, I could have gotten something ready for us.” You say, but he just shakes his head.

“Nah, I wanted to surprise you, besides I picked something up on the way, your favorite.”

You smile up at him, it is moments like this that you remind yourself that your life here in Laredo isn’t all that bad. “Sounds good.” You tell him with a smile.

“Come on, let’s eat, I have about an hour before I’ll need to drive back.” He says, reaching out his hand for you to help you up from the patio floor.

You are soon sitting around the dinner table, takeout boxes between the two of you as you eat your lunch.

“How’s your day been?” Bruce asks you as he pours himself some water.

“Oh, you know, uneventful like always.” You say, feeling a knot in your stomach, your day has not been as uneventful as always, you are once again reminded of your meeting with Javier, but you act like nothing. It should not have been an eventful meeting, it is only your silly mind that makes it into a bigger deal than it is.

“I feel like that is always what you answer.” Bruce says as he sets his water down.

“Well, my days just happen to be uneventful, what do you want me to say?” You say it casually, but you suddenly feel defensive, he knows that you don’t have much going on here, and you really don’t know how he expects you to give him a different answer with how your life is, he is the one who always shuts the idea of you getting a ‘real’ job down. You know that your life isn’t exciting, you are the one living it after all. You don’t want to admit it to him but you are bored, but most of all, you are lonely. It is something you are often trying to hide from him, but it is something that you are feeling on a daily basis. You don’t get to see your husband much and you don’t have any friends here, still the outsider.

It is scary how slowly time passes when you’re feeling lonely. It feels like all you do these days, besides your few hours at the bookstore and your daily walks with Bailey, is sit at home, reading or listening to music, waiting for Bruce to come back home while you smoke too many cigarettes just to try to keep the dark, gloomy feeling of loneliness at bay but with little success.

This hour with him, which should be a nice little moment together, somehow managed to be twisted into you feeling sad again. You know that he didn’t have any bad intentions when he said what he said, but his words still manage to hurt you. That's the thing with Bruce, he will say things that hurt you, but then you will feel bad for feeling hurt because you know that he never means to hurt you on purpose.

“I don’t know…” He just says, before strategically filling his mouth with food, so as to not have to come up with a better answer.

The two of you continue eating in silence for a while after this. You hate how quickly the mood has changed, you are still feeling sad and slightly hurt but you try to push through, forcing a smile on your face.

“At least lunch was a nice surprise.” You break the silence. Bruce smiles immediately at your words like the tension from before had never happened.

“I’m glad.” He says, extending his hand over the table for you to take. You sigh mentally, but you take his hand nevertheless, trying your best to smile back at him.

“Listen, I promise that I’ll get home early tomorrow, and then I’m taking you out to dinner and we will have a lovely evening, okay?” He says as he gives your hand a little squeeze.

“Okay.” You say. That actually sounds really nice, and now you are back to feeling bad for getting upset. “I just… I just feel lonely, that’s all.” You admit, feeling the familiar sting in your eyes that warns that tears are pressing on, you hate how weak your voice is as you say this, but it feels so good to finally say it out loud, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He squeezes your hand again. “It looks like I will have to fly over to get this problem fixed, that was actually what I wanted to tell you over lunch, but I promise that I will try and be home more after I come back again, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, a little sad that he has to leave you again so soon after you have admitted to feeling lonely, but you also know that it is his job and even though he surely could get someone else to do it he’d rather do it himself. You will take what you can get.

---

Javier removes his dusty boots before stepping through the screen door and into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, which he quickly downs, setting the now empty glass down on the counter before walking into the living room. He throws himself down into one of the comfy armchairs with a sigh, rubbing his hands over his face before fishing out his lighter from his pocket, he absentmindedly starts to click it on and off, the little orange flame disappearing and reappearing again and again. He has just finished his work on the ranch for the day, feeling tired and worn out.

He is alone in the house, Chucho left in the morning for an overnight fishing trip with some of his old fishing buddies. It is weird, Javier has never had a problem with being alone before, but Colombia must have changed him. The ranch house feels too big when it’s just him–nothing to distract him from his own thoughts now that the work for the day is done.

Now his thoughts get to run wild, and since he saw and talked to you yesterday, they keep coming back to you. His thoughts keep circling back to your night together. The memory of how sweet and peaceful you had looked when he had walked back into your bedroom and found you already asleep after you had slept together. He remembers how badly he had wanted to crawl into the bed and lay down next to you and let sleep overtake him too.

He had not done that though, instead, he had sneaked out, leaving you without even as much as a goodbye, it was not because you didn’t deserve a goodbye—because you definitely did. It was just that he didn’t have it in him. That night with you had just been a little too good, he had enjoyed your conversations a little too much. He would be back on a flight to Colombia only a week later, and he would be agent Peña again, and the Javi he had been with you would be gone again.

So he had just left, picked up his clothes from the floor, and got dressed, but not before he had picked up your discarded dress from the floor too. He had neatly folded the delicate fabric and placed it on the little table next to your dresser. He was leaving your apartment to become a faint memory to you, but for some reason, he wasn’t able to do the same with you.

You kept tormenting his mind. He had figured that it must stem from the fact that he just had walked out without saying goodbye. Javier might have a reputation as a libertine skirt chaser, and that might also be true, but he was raised better than to leave in the middle of the night like that.

Javier doesn’t think he has given anyone flowers since he was a kid and gave his mother flowers on Mother’s Day unless you count a corsage at prom, but he had suddenly gotten this urge to send you some, and when he had seen the bouquet of bright, beautiful sunflowers as he had walked by a flower shop, he just knew that he had to get them for you. You had not deserved some pendejo like him walking out on you like that, and if it could help him feel like not as big of an asshole as he usually feels that would be nice too, but most of all he had just wanted to thank you for the nice night you had had together. At the time it had been a long time since he had had a night so pleasant and carefree, and he honestly doesn’t think he has had one since.

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, he needs a distraction. In Colombia, he would have gotten himself laid, but he ain’t gonna do that here. Instead he gets up and walks to the phone, dialing Alvaro’s number to hear if wants to meet him for a drink at El Toro instead.

---

You are met with the cool night air as you step out of the restaurant. Bruce takes your hand in his and you begin to walk down the sidewalk. He had parked the car a few blocks down the street, so you start walking hand in hand. The temperature has dropped from when you left home and the knee-length slip dress you’re wearing is not doing much to warm you, and a cold shiver runs over your arms. You would love it if Bruce would put his blazer around your shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to realize that you are cold, and you, for some reason, don’t ask him for the jacket, even though you know that he would give it to you if you did.

You wrap your free arm around yourself in an attempt to warm yourself without making it too obvious that you’re cold. If you had been a little smarter you would have brought a cardigan or a jacket, but it had been so hot earlier when you got ready that you hadn’t even given it a thought. Bruce begins to talk about his upcoming business trip to London, but you aren’t really listening, more focused on the sound of your heels clicking on the concrete as you try to pick up your pace to make the trip to the car go by faster, but with little luck as Bruce doesn’t seem to be in a hurry at all.

You keep your gaze fixated on the pavement, Bruce’s words going in through one ear and out the other as you get lost in your own thoughts. You feel a little bad that you aren’t listening to him, but you are tired, and most of what he is saying is just a repetition from your dinner conversation anyway. You had really looked forward to this dinner, Bruce had made it sound like it would be a type of apology for so often working late and to make you feel better after confessing that you are feeling lonely here in Laredo, but it had not been like you had hoped. He had kept talking about work no matter how hard you had tried to turn the conversation in another direction.

Your eyes focus more on the cracks and crevices in the concrete than anything else until you hear a man’s voice calling out a little further down the pavement, making you look up. You immediately recognize the man as Alvaro, one of Bruce’s old friends; they used to play soccer together back in high school.

You like Alvaro, he’s definitely one of Bruce’s friends you like best, but it is his companion that catches your eye. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and the same burnt umber leather jacket as he had back when you first met him, Javier…

“Price! What a pleasant surprise.” Alvaro exclaims, a smile spreading on his lips as you and Bruce approach. “And Mrs.” He adds, offering you a warm smile as you and Bruce now have reached them. You smile back, trying to look as normal as possible but your heart is suddenly feeling like it is going at a hundred miles a second.

Your stomach drops as Javier’s eyes meet yours and you feel how your grip on Bruce’s hand loosens and you, without even thinking about it, step a little away from your husband as you let your hand slip out of his, letting you wrap your arms around yourself.

“Long time no see.” Bruce says, clapping Alvaro on the upper arm companionably before turning to Javier. “And Peña! Thought I heard something about you coming back, it’s good to see you, man.”

Javier tears his eyes away from you to look at Bruce. You remember how Javier had asked you to say hi to Bruce for him, but you hadn’t done it. It felt too weird to mention Javier to Bruce.

“Yeah, you too.” Javier gives him a tight-lipped smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Bruce places a hand on your back, gesturing to you with the other to introduce you to the man. “This is my wife.” He says with a proud smile on his face, but you don’t see it, you are way too dumbstruck at the moment, the feeling of Bruce’s hand on your back while Javier stands in front of you feels weird, a nauseous feeling of guilt spreading in your chest and stomach. You have not done anything wrong, but the dream you had about Javier last week is gnawing at you. You know that you can’t control your dreams but you can’t help but feel guilty, the memory of Javier’s touch is like an intrusive thought that has been plaguing you since he had come back into your memory.

Bruce tells Javier your name, not aware that the other man already knows it. “This is Javier, we went to school together.” Bruce tells you, and Javier’s gaze goes back to you, he extends his hands for you to shake, like the two of you are meeting for the very first time.

“Nice to meet you.” He says, the deep baritone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine, it is like you are hit by an electric shock when his big, warm hand engulfs your smaller one.

“You too.” You answer. You think you manage to sound somewhat normal despite feeling anything but.

You let go of Javier’s hand, but the warm feeling of his touch lingers on your skin, your palm keeps tingling long after.

“It’s actually perfect timing that we ran into you guys.” Alvaro says before ashing his cigarette. “I’m throwing a little party on the 22nd, you two should totally come!”

“Ah, sorry man, sounds great, but I’ll be in England on the 22nd.” Bruce tells him, but you are only listening to their conversation with half an ear. It is first when you hear your name being spoken by Alvaro that you are being pulled out of the daze that Javier’s touch had sent you in.

“Sorry, I think I just got caught in my own thoughts there for a second.” You say, feeling a bit embarrassed, but Alvaro just smiles friendly at you.

“I just asked if you wouldn’t want to come anyway.”

You really appreciate Alvaro’s friendliness and attempt to make you feel welcome, but you still know you aren’t gonna come, he will probably be one of the few people you know, and the two of you are at most good acquaintances.

“It sounds nice, but I-” You start but you are interrupted by Bruce.

“That is a wonderful idea! You said you felt lonely right, this will be a good way to make some friends, right babe.” He says in a way too cheerful tone. You know that he means well, but you feel your stomach drop and embarrassment wash over you. You had told him about how you are feeling lonely in confidentiality and even though you know that it isn’t something to feel ashamed about you can’t help but feel embarrassed that Bruce just informed both Alvaro and Javier that you are feeling lonely and don’t have any friends…

Both of the other men seem to sense discomfort. Alvaro gives you a compassionate look in a way that expresses that it is more from Bruce’s clumsy words than the fact that you don’t have any friends here, and you are very thankful for that. Javier, on the other hand, sends Bruce a somber look, which your husband seems to miss entirely.

“Well, you don’t have to decide now but it would be nice if you came. I promise that there will be cooler people there than us two knuckleheads.” Alvaro says to you, pointing between himself and Javier at the last part. This finally makes you smile.

“I’ll think about it.” You promise him, smiling at Alvaro before stealing another glance at Javier. So he will be there, huh…

“Great.” Bruce says, completely unaware of how he had made you feel. “ It was great to see you guys, but I have to go to the office early tomorrow so we better get going.”

“Of course. We also can’t have your wife standing out here in the cold the whole night…” Javier says and you can’t help but notice how his strong jaw tenses.

“No, you’re right.” Bruce says, looking a little startled before looking back at you, finally noticing how you’re shivering, quickly slipping off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders.

“Thank you.” You mumble to him, but your thanks goes more to Javier than your husband.

“Don’t mention it babe.” Bruce smiles at you, unaware of the stern look Javier is sending him. Bruce bids the two men goodbye before placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you down the sidewalk, you sneak one last glance back over your shoulder, your eyes locking with Javier’s before you finally reach Bruce’s car and he disappears into the bar with Alvaro.

…High from the feeling you give me (high from the feeling you give me)

Even though you're not with me (though you're not with me)

Together, we made a memory (together, we made a memory)

What's wrong with a touch of ecstasy?...

I Get High, Freda Payne

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