#translation: Reader: Why did he say that?
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ᬊ Serenade ᬊ
— LEO VALDEZ X FEM!READER
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☆ radiostar is playing... paloma querida by josé alfredo jiménez!
warnings; language, a pinch of angst with comfort at the end.
a/n; I wanted to do this one so much, I finally got to finish it, I hope you like it. The translation of the song is below each verse, as well as the vocabulary at the end.
— You know what? Go to hell!
You slammed the bedroom's door behind you, trying to shut it with a bang, but Leo managed to catch it with his hand to follow you. Although in fact, it wasn't to try to solve the things.
He let out a loud huff when he saw you grabbing your keys and your things.
— Well, actually you’re the one leaving so, why don’t you just go there and give me the address later?
The regret was immediate, but he was just as angry and ignored it. For a second, he feared for everything as you turned back to him with flared nostrils and a frown, your eyes starting to tear up.
— If that's how things are. Good, then I won’t have to come back to this dump. — You threw the keys at his face and left with a door slam that echoed in the apartment.
Within two seconds, Leo was already running down the stairs, shouting your name, but it was too late when he saw your car turning the corner, almost leaving a trail of fire on the pavement. Feeling down, he ran his hands through his curly hair and sighed.
Who started the fight? It was hard to tell, but maybe Leo's response wasn’t the best. Actually, it had been the worst of all their fights, and he saw that reflected in the way you left. You two weren’t the type of couple to fight with sharp words, so this was almost like saying he’d rather see you dead.
— I’m- uh que pendejo¹ ! —he exclaimed, throwing himself onto the couch and complaining while rolling around. How would he apologize now? This time, flowers or a card saying "Sorry for being an idiot" wouldn’t cut it, and even if it did, he knew you deserved more.
Then he had an idea, triggered by a memory from his days in that old neighborhood when his mom was still alive. He could remember that place was lively, colorful, and sometimes noisy because people like his mom and him lived there, never letting a place so far from home feel as cold and foreign as it actually was. And there was something moms and grandmas children would do for on their birthdays, big block parties, or even when there were small couple fights: a serenade seemed like the ace up the sleeve to ease the pain and give a heartfelt apology. For Leo, that was fair.
Where would he get mariachis? But that was the least of his worries. He’d done more impossible things than finding a mexican musical group in the middle of the night.
— Hephaestus, help me — he muttered -almost like a prayer- as he put on his green military jacket and grabbed the keys you had thrown at him earlier. The raccoon keychain wearing a Camp Half-Blood shirt left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Before leaving, the candle illuminating the picture of his mom on the shelf next to the TV flickered intensely, catching his attention, and he took that as a response from his dad that was something like: " I Pass, I’ve had enough with my wife," and he honestly understood what he meant. One thing was a fight, another was being cheat repeatedly.
He turned off the lights and fearlessly wandered around to find his grand musical apology.
You were curled up in your bed with a frown and some tears in your eyes. You never thought any of your fights would reach this point, even if Leo's response had been in a joking manner, fighting with him was already too much for your heart. You wondered if this was the beginning of the end, if he was really angry, or if his response was an expression of how tired he was of you.
Were you done? 'cause you had thrown the keys at his face and had no way of getting back into that place.
Your anxiety flooded your body, and a slight tremor in your lip kept asking you to finally release the tears you had held back. Would you go to bed this sad and empty? Even the mattress seemed too big without him by your side.
You turned to switch off your bedside lamp when you heard a small object bounce against your window. You turned around and nervously played with the laces of your hoodie. Was it him? You looked at the clock and could see through your blurry eyes that it was around 2 AM. No way Leo could be here at this hour, maybe it had just been the wind
You turned to reach the switch when the sound repeated, and before you could get up, two more pebbles hit the glass. At the foot of your window, before opening the curtain, you heard a whistle and some trumpets starting to play.
— Amor!
You opened your eyes wide and clumsily pulled out the curtain. What you saw through the glass left you speechless. There were mariachis, about seven of them, and Leo was there with a bouquet of roses, waving his hand at you. When you opened the window, he smiled broadly, though there was a noticeable hint of shame.
— FORGIVE ME, MI AMOR — he shouted, cupping his hand to his mouth to amplify his voice, and you, speechless, kept watching the scene. Your boyfriend turned around and gave some instructions to one of the mariachis, who nodded and started a count of three. The music began, and not only did the singer's voice echo in the street, but so did Leo's.
— Yo no sé lo que valga mi vida. Pero yo, te la vengo a entregar.
( I don’t know what my life is worth, but I’m here to give it to you!)
You smiled. You couldn’t understand much from the distance, but the way he clutched his chest with each word made you tear up.
— yo siento quererte... con todas las fuerzas que el alma me da.
(I feel I love you with all the strength my soul can give...)
Leo impatiently gestured for them to continue while he looked for a way to climb up to your window. Though the vines weren’t entirely safe, he decided to risk it.
— Paloma querida! — he shouted off-key as he walked on the roof, short of breath, and beneath your window, he stood on tiptoe to hand you the roses. You leaned on your stomach to grab the flowers wrapped in red cellophane, and without taking your eyes off him, you smelled them.
He stepped back enough for you to see each other clearly. Again, he placed his hand over his heart and with a sincere smile mouthed, "I’m sorry."
What felt like seconds were actually minutes until the song change brought both of you back to reality. You leaned out to be a bit closer to him, and he jumped up to barely kiss your lips.
— No that, dummy! — you said giggling, nodding towards the group who continued playing with smiles, seeing that the serenade had achieved its goal. — The neighbors, Leo.
Leo raised his eyebrows and pointed to the front of your house, where people in nightgowns peeked from their windows, and some kids were dancing. An elderly couple watched the scene with tender eyes. Apparently, there were no complaints, so everything seemed cool.
He bowed without taking his eyes off you, and opening his hand in the air, let the keys jingle sweetly. You smiled, and he mimicked you.
— I love you.
— Te amo más.³
❉᯽❉
¹ que pendejo: I'm an asshole!
² paloma querida: dear dove; It's the name of the song translated to eng, an expression too or a kind of petname
³ te amo más: I love you more
⁴ amor, amor mio, mi amor: love, love of mine, my love.
#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#pjo#percy jackson#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x you#leo valdez x y/n#leo valdez hoo#heroes of olympus x reader#hoo x reader#leo valdez fic#leo valdez one shot#leo valdez imagines#leo valdez fanfic#leo valdez blurb#pjo x reader#percy jackon and the olympians
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Alien who accidentally fingers you during one of his examinations of the human body and is intrigued by your reaction
Hi! This took a turn at the end unexpectedly. Hope you like it and thanks for the request! <3
Alien inspection
Alien x fem!reader || dub-con (kinda?), finger-fucking, groping, lowkey humiliation
When you arrived to the space station you weren’t expecting to pass any medical exam. They told you back on Earth that you’d be free to go anywhere without background check. You should have guessed they were wrong. So now you were patiently waiting in a room full of alien creatures. There were so many different morphologies and colors and textures… Your poor human brain was overwhelmed with all the information you were getting just sitting in the waiting room.
After what felt like an eternity but probably was just half an hour, a metallic voice called your name and a very, very tall alien stood before you to escort you. He started talking in a language that sounded completely extraterrestrial, full of weird sounds and clicks. You looked at him confused, and he looked at you like he never saw a human before. A spark of surprise crossed his features as he extended his hand and clicked something next to your ear. The translator. Oh fuck, you forgot.
“Sorry, I forgot I had to do that.” You explained, already embarrassed.
“It’s okay, it’s your first time here.” His voice sounded weird when translated, but at least you could understand him now. “I’m excited, you are my first human.”
“Uh? What do you mean?” You asked, completely confused at what he meant. You couldn’t be the first human arriving at the station, there were at least fifteen other women in your same ship.
“I’m new in this facility, I’ve never seen a human before.” That explained it. You said nothing as he led you to another room. “Remove your coverings and sit there.” He pointed to a metal table in the middle of the space.
When you were finally naked and exposed completely to him, he turned around and started writing in his tablet. He put some cables around your chest and soon you heard the telltale sound of a cardiac machine, the beep beep of your heart deafening in the silence of the room. His clinical look of your body was making you feel extremely self-conscious, and a bit hot. You didn’t know what he had, but his detached look and the way he didn’t instantly look at your tits made you feel a bit better, but also started a fire inside of you.
You took time to study him as he kept writing stuff. He was so tall his head almost hit the ceiling, his skin such a pale green color that looked almost white. He was handsome in a very extraterrestrial way, otherworldly. And then you saw his hands. They looked like spider legs, super long and with at least four knuckles instead of the two humans had. It was weird, so weird, but it did something for you. It picked your interest in hot way, in a way that made you wonder how would that feel against your skin.
“Why is your skin turning pink?” He asked, writing down some stuff.
“I’m embarrassed.” You explained, trying to sound as clinical as him. He looked at you with a face that asked you to elaborate. No words needed. “I am naked and you are not, and you are looking at me, and I’m naked.”
“Interesting. Is nakedness wrong by human standards?” He asked, as he checked something on the machine and wrote it down.
“Well, yes and no.” He made a weird sound that your translator didn’t get and kept pressing some kind of instrument to your head and neck, tickling you. You giggled and he looked intently at you, not saying anything but writing down in his tablet. He lowered his weird hands to your chest. “Ouch!” You slapped his hand away when he pinched one of your nipples with his way too long fingers. Your heart raced as he did it again. “Ouch!!”
“Uh, that’s interesting. Your heart-rate spiked. Why?” He asked, looking between your boobs and the machine, his confused face was kind of adorable.
“I- That- Nipples are a sensitive area for humans. For some humans, at least. For me.” You babbled when you were nervous and he was making you really nervous at the moment.
“Interesting.” He didn’t let you out of the hook, grabbing your boobs and massaging them to his heart’s content. You were struggling to remain quiet, his touch turning you into a hot and bothered mess. You always had very sensitive tits, and his hands groping you were more than a bit arousing.
He kept at it for what you felt like ages, groping your boobs, measuring them, pinching your nipples (softer this time). He explored every tiny millimeter of your boobs as you rubbed your thighs together in what you hoped was not too obvious manner. At some point, when you were about to draw blood because of how hard you were biting your lip to stop the groans for escaping, he moved his hands down. Touching your abdomen, taking notes, poking your bellybutton and making you giggle.
“Open your legs.” He instructed next, pulling at your ankle softly, looking at you with his big pale eyes.
“What? No!” His previous touch left you dripping wet, you could feel your juices all over your pussy and the inside of your thighs. You really, really, didn’t want him to find out he aroused you. Fuck.
“I have to inspect your genitals, too.” The clinical way in which he said it made you shiver, uncomfortable, but weirdly turned on. What the fuck was wrong with you? He was a doctor, he wasn’t trying to fuck you. You didn’t even like aliens. Right? Well, maybe you did like this particular alien. So you complied and opened your legs slowly.
“Why is it wet? Is normal for it to be wet?” He asked, parting your lips and grabbing some of your juice, taking it to his face to smell it. He poked his tongue out and tasted it, making you let out a groan. He looked at you, alarmed. “Well? Is it normal?”
“Is normal when humans are aroused.” You told him, trying not to groan again.
“Are you aroused?” He didn’t stop his exploration, not even looking at your eyes when he said that.
“Yes.” You whispered, completely embarrassed, feeling a bit humiliated at the fact that he turned on by just his medical touch. You were perverted.
“Interesting.” His complete lack of reaction to your words made you feel humiliated and confused, some more wetness leaking out of your gaping hole. His intense eyes focused in your pussy again. “It twitched!” He exclaimed. Two milliseconds later, one of his fingers was pushed inside of you, making you groan and arch your back.
He experimentally moved his finger around, hitting your G-Spot and making you moan again. “Does that feel good?” He retracted his finger just to push it back again.
“Yes!” You looked down, he had just two knuckles inside of you, the other two were still out. His fingers were longer than any dick you’d ever seen, and he looked like he wanted to push the whole thing inside. God yes. “More, please.” You begged as he crooked his head at you, confused by your reaction but starting to push deeper, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside, stretching you. Fuck.
When his long fingers entered you completely, he started to finger fuck you intently, thrusting in and out and touching your G-spot every time he could. He was driving you wild. And when another finger found your clit, you screamed, making him look up and then repeat the movement to see how your face looked when he did it. He never lost his medical look in your body, not seeming interested on you as a person, but just your human anatomy. It made you feel humiliated, and that fired the heat inside of you.
He played with your pussy like he was a master of it, touching all the right places, rolling your clit and rubbing it just the right way. Before any of you were ready, you were coming hard around his fingers, thrashing on the table and babbling nonsense between groans and moans.
He took his fingers away and shoved them in his lab coat pocket, saying: “That was very illuminating. Thank you.” He then turned around and went away, leaving you naked and panting on the table.
A nurse entered and with one look at you they said: “Ugh, he fucked you, didn’t he?” You tried to dress rapidly as they kept looking at you.
“What?” Your face grew hot, probably red as a tomato.
“He has a human kink and always fucks the patients.” The nurse looked infuriated and tired as they pinched their nose-like appendage on their face.
#monster#monster fucker#monster x human#monster imagine#teratophillia#monster x reader#terato#alien#alien fucker#alien x human#alien x reader#exophelia#x reader#fem!reader#request
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❝Bite❞
more wolf Sukuna and bunny reader
Warning: mentioned of sex but really none, still that height difference being poked at, tho. Biting, biting, BITING. Sukuna is just being a big baby :) still, MDNI
A/N: anyone else wanna walk around with Sukuna's teeth marks? Just me?
"bunny." Sukuna's body towers over you, his overgrown tail stiff and unmoving, four eyes just piercing down at you, making your bunny ears fold back.
Your friends, your little bunny gals, look behind you and clearly see an insanely tall wolf, his eyes only on you. What's their immediate though? Great, now our friend is some prey. Which isn't a half lie...
Your friends ears copy yours, an easy sign of some fear.
"'kuna?" You squeak, trying not to be so afraid. This is the man that wipes you down after fucking you dumb, or makes you cum for the fifth time every night, no need to be afraid. He huffs, yanking you to him with one hand (to which your friends are freaking out, they wanna help but look at the size of him) "its Sukuna to you, rabbit. Why are you here? I've been looking in those woods for so long. Thought we promised to meet up."
"s-sorry, I was talking with my friends—"
"maybe I should stuff your mouth with cock so you have nothing to even talk about."
You tense up. Not only because you're definitely going to gag and choke pathetically if he does make you give him head, but because you're friends heard. And, smart enough, they see what's going on between you to and hop away...
Your face goes cherry red, your eyebrows creased like you're mad. "Why would you say that?" Your words blur together, unable to keep cool. Sukuna scoffs as he sees your reaction, not even sharing a glance to your little bunny friends. He should've ate them.
"can't handle dirty talk now?" He mocks you, leaning down to your height in a taunting way. "I looked like a damn fool searching for you. Have you forgotten how you told me you'd be there?" He darkly whispers near your ear, using a tone that you haven't heard before... "I think—"
Chomp!
"I need to make us known."
Sukuna squeezes your small body on his, his tail coming to wrap you even closer to him and muffle all your little squeals and whines as he sinks his fangs into the middle on your shoulder blades, trailing the stinging marks up and to your nape and jaw. Your small hands go to push him off, but there was no success. "E-eek! 'kuna—ouch!" You mewl.
He grabs a hold of your cotton tail (just because he loves to) and pushes you in closer. He didn't bite hard enough to make any blood, but he definitely tore some skin. He pampers you neck and upper half with kisses before swooping you into his arms. "Better." He coldly gazes at all the painful yet pretty marks, red and purple teeth prints all over you.
"that hurt..." you angerily pout at him, "you're mean."
Sukuna ignores your little comment and walks over to his home, away from all eyes when he gets to take you for himself, only to keep you from squirming in embarrassment. He doesn't care who sees... maybe he wants that. "Please," he growls, "be lucky that was all I did, rabbit."
It was so short but I had this idea and in part one and two this was a strong idea of mine, him biting you!
˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steal in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen smut#ryomen x reader#ryomen x you#subby bunny#hybrid#wolf boy#ryoumen sukuna#smut fic
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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).
⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )
#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }
#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.
#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.
you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.
and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?
(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)
but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.
(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.
time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?
time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
ticklish.
the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.
there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.
“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.
there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.
“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.
“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”
his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.
you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!
every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.
“mwah, mwah, mwah—”
“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”
(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)
will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.
(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)
the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.
if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.
(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)
veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.
mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”
at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.
looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?
✧ a moment among the stars:
“...yet another headache.”
as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.
you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.
a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.
(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)
veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”
oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.
you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.
“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.
“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.
(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)
“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.
“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”
“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”
(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)
“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”
“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.
“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.
(your heart skips a beat.)
will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.
how mysterious.
but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?
your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.
pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.
(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)
the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.
fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.
(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)
if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.
as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?
(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”
sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.
“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”
you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.
he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”
or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.
(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)
“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”
“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.
most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.
“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”
you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?
(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)
will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?
after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?
but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.
(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)
dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”
(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)
sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.
(it remains persistently.)
when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.
when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.
(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.
but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”
you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”
he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.
“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.
“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.
“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.
dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.
“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.
(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)
“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”
“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.
“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.
(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)
— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio x you#sunday x reader#sunday x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng x you#hsr fluff#hsr headcanons#hsr imagines#seelestial.inks
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a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism
Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.
My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)
This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)
And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.
And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand.
In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.
That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with,
“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”
I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.
I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!).
Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.
If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading!
Sincerely, a tumblr user.
#exiavojtmmc#hermitcraft#matpat#gt#game theory#hc#mcyt#evil xisuma#hbomberguy#plagiarism#james somerton#jeff the minion#mine#micer2012#hcs9
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What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭
little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader
you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.
but it isn’t.
throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.
his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.
they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.
satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.
for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.
he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.
so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.
a shameful failed trial at that.
in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!
so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.
…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.
and come home you did and to all this mess.
swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.
then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.
satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.
so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“
you simply quirk an eyebrow.
and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”
“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”
your husband gasps, “how!?”
“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”
so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.
like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.
that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”
satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”
“bad word!”
“sorry!”
however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”
hit the panic button.
“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”
the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”
“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.
your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.
ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.
“hello?”
“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”
“what?!”
and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.
you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”
“yes ma’am!”
he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.
your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.
and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.
he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”
he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”
“I was gone for 3 minutes.”
“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”
he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.
anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.
when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.
now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.
he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.
satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.
he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.
opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.
if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.
he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.
so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.
the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.
that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.
he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”
he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.
she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.
satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.
your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.
your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”
almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.
satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”
a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”
satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”
s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.
so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”
your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.
then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:
“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”
your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”
satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”
s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.
looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.
he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?
he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.
with no blanket.
no pillow.
not even his favorite cushion.
but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo imagine#gojou satoru x reader#jjk imagines#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#jjk x y/n#jjk gojo x reader#jjk gojo x you#jjk gojo x y/n#satoru x you#satoru x reader#satoru x y/n#gojo fluff
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karma is my boyfriend - rc
pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader
précis - a lil princess treatment from rafe :)
content/warnings - mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, fluff,
word count - 673
"Rafe, Rafe!?" You're spinning around, looking for your boyfriend until suddenly you whirl around and bump into a broad chest.
"Hey!" You gasp, until you look up and see his face. "Oh! Hi baby!" You coo, reaching up to cup his cheeks.
"Hi sweet girl." He smiles, running his thumb along your cheekbone.
You greet him happily, leaning in to his touch. "Did you get my drink?" You wonder, suddenly remembering why he left you in the first place.
"Hmm, sure did." He nods, handing you an ice water rather than the vodka redbull you'd requested.
You don't seem to notice though, slipping the paper straw into your mouth and slurping it down happily.
"We gonna dance s'more?" You wonder, straw between your lips.
"We can't, baby," He says, smoothing a hand down the back of your head. "They're closing."
"Nooo!" You groan, throwing your head back.
"I know, I know," He soothes. "But we can go home and get some snacks and watch a show...?" He offers.
"Okay!" You're smiling once again, digging your fingers into his tee shirt.
"Finish your drink and we'll go home, kay?"
You nod, bypassing the straw and tipping the rest of the water into your mouth, before handing your empty glass to Rafe.
You're not even that drunk, really just a little past tipsy but you're fine with letting Rafe handle everything and take care of you.
Suddenly his jacket is being draped over your shoulders, coupled with a soft kiss to the top of your head.
"Thank you." You simper. You slide your arms into the sleeves and blink up at your boyfriend.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
You lead him out of the bar, arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket, while he has your little purse slung over his shoulder, your phone, his phone, and the keys all in one hand.
"How much farther?" You ask a few moments later, looking back at him.
"Not too much," He frowns looking out at the street. When the two of you arrived at the club, hours before, he'd had to park his car somewhat far due to the lack of space. "Your feet hurting, baby?"
You shrug a shoulder. "Yeah." You nod. "But it's just till the car then I'll take my shoes off."
"C'mere," He says, shoving both of your phones into his pocket.
"What?" You wonder, turning to give him a coy smile.
Your sweet boyfriend kneels down on the dirty sidewalk, taking your ankle into his hands so he can unbuckle your heel. You're flustered beyond words, heat rising on your cheeks while Rafe's rough palm softly works your foot out of your strappy shoe.
"Stand on my foot babe, so I can take your other shoe off." He says, running his hand up your calf.
Once both of your heels are dangling from his hand, he scoops you into his arms, bridal style.
"Are you sure, Rafe?" You wonder softly. "I feel bad, you don't--"
"You have nothing to feel bad about." He assures, lips at your temple. "Just let me take you to the car, okay gorgeous?"
"Okay." You hum happily, relaxing in his hold.
Your arms are sling around your neck and you have easy access to his neck if you strain a little--and you do--at least five times on the way to the car, so you can kiss his neck.
He pretends like he's not flustered by it, but you can see the rosy glow of his cheeks from the street lamps, the harsh light making him appear ethereal and you have to shut your eyes for a second to remember he's real.
You’re still in a fond trance when he uses one hand to open the car door and gently deposit you into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and tugs on it, before pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Love you,” You croon, leaning back against the seat to look at him.
“Love you so much more.” He promises. “C’mere angel, gimme a kiss.”
© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.
#mine#my work#my writing#witchwyfe#witchwyfe writing#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fluff#outer banks fanfiction#cw alchohol mention
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language
Summary: You get something to aid you in your attempts to bond with your pack. Unfortunately, your ideas have consequences for everyone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, some brief violent imagery but nothing worse than what's in the game, lots of military inaccuracies
Author's Note: Did you know there’s Scottish translators online? I do now lmaooo. Those military inaccuracies are really coming through in this one so...if you’re here for accuracy...I am so sorry. This one's a bit shorter, more of a filler for the next one but there's some important stuff that happens that you'll need for the next chapter. Also a lot of good ole easter eggs and references in this one. If you can find them all, I’ll give you a cookie.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
You perk up when a knock sounds at your door. You hop off your bed, eagerly swinging the door open. Price is standing there, a package in his hands. The corner of his mouth twitches as you smile, almost bouncing on your toes in excitement.
“Kate said you’d be expecting this.” He says, amusement shining in his eyes.
You nod, holding out your hands. “Yes, sir!”
You take the package, holding it against your chest. You had sworn Kate to secrecy about what was in it, after a long explanation of why you needed it and why you were asking her for it and not Price. She said she threw in a few other things, things you didn’t realize you’d miss once you moved to the UK. You knew she likely did that so she wouldn’t have to lie to Price when he asked.
“Don’t have too much fun.” He says, giving you a smile.
“I’ll try not to.” You grin. “Thank you, sir!”
You close the door, not bothering to lock it as you bound back to your bed. You open the package, digging through the snacks to the bottom of the box. You move the box to the floor, holding the book in your lap. You run your hand over the cover, excitement thrumming through you.
“The Powerful Omega.”
You’ve spent the last few days running through what you remembered from the book the last time you read it almost four years ago. There wasn’t much, only a few things sticking with you. Things you thought would be helpful.
You curl up on your bed as the others head out for the afternoon, the familiar sound of boots disappearing down the hallway fading into the background as you dig into the book. You’re determined to find some way to get Ghost to at least be tolerant of your presence. You don’t need him to want you, you don’t even need him to like you. You just know the entire process will be easier if he’s at least accepting of the fact you’re going to be part of the pack, whether either of you like it or not.
That was long before you knew you’d be placed in a military pack, though.
He’s a big, tough, military alpha who doesn’t like to show his face. There has to be something in the book that might help you, or at least give you ideas on what to try. You know the best you can do with Ghost is try. He’s an enigma on purpose, and it seems like he’s going to stay that way, regardless of how close you try and get to him.
You could use Soap to get close to him. Ghost’s protective aura practically envelopes Soap whenever they’re in close proximity, laying a claim without even having to touch one another. You know getting close to Soap could force Ghost to get comfortable with you, or it might make him more territorial.
But that scene at breakfast a few days ago, when he’d gotten defensive over that soldier staring in your direction.
You let out an exasperated sigh, opening the book. “Alphas are so infuriating for literally no reason.” You murmur to yourself.
You read until another knock sounds at the door, signaling lunch. You use your note pages as a bookmark, stuffing the book into the back of your underwear drawer before opening the door.
“Hungry, pup?” Price greets you as he usually does when he’s escorting you to a meal.
You nod, stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Always, sir.”
Like most omegas, you have a healthy appetite. It always gets bigger close to your heat, and you never quite feel satisfied and full during that time. You wonder how you’re going to manage on a military base with such a rigid schedule. There’s always snacks in the rec room, but you’re going to need a lot more than chips and protein drinks to keep you happy when the time comes.
You follow Price to the mess, his arm brushing yours as you walk. You’ve noticed them getting closer to you over the past few days, at least in the literal sense. It started with Soap and Gaz. They walk closer to you, sit closer to you. When you join them in the evenings in the rec room they’ve started putting you between them. Price has now started getting closer, walking closer to you, standing closer to you, often looming behind you like a shadow.
Ghost is the only one who hasn’t changed much, still regarding you with disinterest and speaking shortly to you when you’re forced to interact.
“Don’t worry about ‘im lass. He'll warm up tae ye.” Soap had reassured you after a rather cold shoulder from Ghost.
You’re not entirely sure that’s possible. You’re determined to at least try to get on amicable terms with him, and you’re hopeful the book will help with that. Even if he’s nothing more than just another alpha in your pack, if you can get him to stop being so icy around you, perhaps you’ll be able to settle in better.
And maybe you’ll be able to fix your lack of instincts.
Dr. Keller said there was nothing wrong with your lack of instincts at this point in the transition, but everything you had learned at The Institute goes against what she said. You’re an omega. Your job is to be obedient, to serve your pack, and follow your alpha’s commands. Good omegas do what’s asked of them without question, putting their trust in their alpha. No one knows what’s best for you like your alpha.
Your alpha hasn’t asked much of anything of you.
You don’t know how to feel about that.
“I’m startin’ tae think that sandwich insulted ye, lass.”
Soap’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You have been sitting and staring at your sandwich for a while, lost in your thoughts. It’s not a terrible sandwich by any means, certainly better than the ones you got at The Institute.
They’re all staring at you, four pairs of eyes watching you. You’ve barely touched your plate, and you hardly remember going through the line.
You shake your head, picking up your fork to poke at whatever mushy vegetable Price had added to your tray. “No, it’s fine. I was just lost in thought.”
“‘Bout what?” Soap asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich.
You shrug. “Just something Dr. Keller said.”
“Ah, omega secrets then.” Soap grins. “I’ve heard rumors that omegas know the true meaning of the universe.”
“Yeah, it’s 42.” You say, earning a chuckle from Price.
If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in Ghost’s shoulders, the slight softening of his gaze for a moment as he stares at his own sandwich.
He's laughing at you again.
He’s an enigma, a confusing presence in your life. You have no choice but to have him in your life, just as he has no choice but to have you in his life.
You finish your food quickly, wanting to get back to the book. You’ve already got some ideas floating around from it, things that might help you ease into their world a bit more.
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, the area between the two buildings more crowded than usual. You both slow a bit as a whistle sounds through the air, your head turning as a rather crude comment reaches your ears.
“Ignore them.” Gaz says, putting a hand on your back. “Bunch of cocksure alphas. They’re always rowdy after the weekend. They go out, surround themselves with omega barrack bunnies, make themselves feel important.”
“Have you...been with a barrack bunny?” You ask hesitantly, mostly out of curiosity. You know they likely have. They've had their entire lives they've been able to dictate for themselves.
“Not since joining the team.” He answers honestly. “None of us have. We don’t usually have the time, or the need. We have each other now.”
And now they have you.
“Do they, the other soldiers...do they know why I’m here?” You find yourself asking as you enter the barracks.
“Not specifically.” Gaz says. “Most of what we do is classified, even to them. I think some of them have begun to put two and two together. And before too long, they’ll be able to figure it out.” He says, giving you a look as you stop in front of your door.
“Yeah...” You say softly, your stomach churning nervously at the thought of your approaching heat. There’s still quite a bit of time before then, but you don’t feel ready. You don’t feel ready to spend a heat with an alpha, you don’t feel ready to be claimed.
“Don’t worry too much.” He says, pressing his finger between your brows like he might be able to smooth out the frown that’s formed between them. “Price will take good care of you. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to work out the kinks.” He chucks you under the chin gently before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your rapidly warming cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
You still feel a bit like you’re floating as you close your door behind you. Your face is warm, not just from the forwardness of Gaz’s actions but also his words. You let out a quiet sound as you fan your face, trying desperately not to think about how soft his lips are, how easily he had ignited a fire within you with some words and a simple touch.
Gaz is trouble, you think as you pull out the book again, settling down at your desk to read.
You open the book, starting at the next section.
Bonding With Your Pack.
This is what you need, ideas on how to do exactly that. Even though you’re already beginning to feel close to Soap and Gaz, you still feel as if there’s a chasm keeping you from Price, and an ocean between you and Ghost. You just need something, anything that will start building that rope bridge and maybe a boat.
Learn To Speak Their Language.
You pause at the chapter title, pulling out the notebook you’ve been taking notes in.
“As much as we want to think it can be, not everything can be about us all the time. Just like in any relationship, we have to put effort into others as well. If you find yourself struggling to connect with your alpha, the first step is to figure out something they’re interested in. Sports? Video Games? Food? Get to know your alpha, and make it a point to learn about something they’re interested in. Learn to speak their language.”
You read the passage thrice over, the realization dawning on you. You knew from the beginning that getting them to adapt to you was not going to be possible. You were going to have to adapt yourself to fit into their lives. Their lives of fighting and war and violence and guns.
An idea begins to form in your head as you brainstorm, scribbling page after page of notes. It’s not perfect, but you’re in no rush to perfect it. After all, you’ve got nothing but time.
You sit next to Soap at breakfast, close enough his arm is brushing yours. You wish you could see Ghost’s face, or, well, his eyes at least.
“So what do you guys do between breakfast and lunch?” You ask, all four of them pausing as they look at you. You continue to eat, pretending not to notice their looks. You know mornings are for their workouts before breakfast, but what they do between meals is almost entirely unknown to you. You assume it’s some sort of training, maybe meetings and briefings.
“Training, usually.” Price answers after a moment. “Running simulations, training courses, weapons training, hand-to-hand. Keeps our skills sharp. Today they’re running a routine course to make sure they’re not getting lazy in our time off.”
“Can I come?” You ask, their gazes snapping to you again. “To watch? I’m getting kind of bored sitting around.”
Price’s gaze burns into you as you meet it, not looking away despite the tickling at the back of your neck telling you to yield. Tough alphas like a challenge, the book said. Don’t back down, even when you want to.
“I don’t see why not.” He finally says, picking up his cup of coffee. “Give these muppets another reason to compete with each other.”
The table erupts in chaos as Gaz and Soap immediately start betting with each other. You can’t help but smile, used to their bickering and competitiveness after spending time with them doing literally anything together.
This is certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else.
“There’s two rules for you being here.” Price says as you walk with him down a line of hangars. “You do everything I say, and stick close to me. They’ll be using live rounds, and the last thing we need is you catching a stray bullet in some freak accident.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” You say, saluting him.
He stares down at you for a moment, amusement shining in his eyes. “Cute.” He leads you into the hangar, a sort of building made out of plywood set up inside. “Over here.” He leads you to where a sort of command center is set up.
There’s screens showing feeds from cameras set up inside the mock building, a timer and an intercom system set up. You look it over in amazement, Price coming to stand next to you.
“How does it work?” You ask.
“They enter there.” He points to what you assume represents the front door. “Work their way through both levels to clear the house.There’s targets in some rooms that pop up when certain pressure triggers are hit on the floor. Hit every target, clear the house, exit there,” He points at a spot on the side of the house in front of where you’re standing. “And reach that red line in 60 seconds.”
You blink in surprise. “How fast can they do it?”
“Gaz holds the record currently at 19 seconds, Ghost in second at 19.5, and Soap at 20.5.” He says.
“Wow.” You say under your breath, looking over the cameras again. “I’m not sure I could even think that fast.”
Price chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to, sweetheart. We’ve had years and years of training and experience. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He says, heading back down the steps to where the others have gathered, wearing light gear.
It’s not the first time you’ve seen them all geared up, but the change is always palpable. Gone are the laid back betas and alpha, and instead they’ve shifted into battle-hardened soldiers. It’s almost mesmerizing how easily they can shift between the two.
And you can hardly handle your instincts getting a little twitchy.
Price joins you again, turning on the intercom system. “Alright Gaz, at my go sweep the house and clear the rooms.” You hold your breath as Price pauses, Gaz in place at the front door. “Go, go, go!” Price says, the timer starting as Gaz enters the house.
You watch on the cameras as he goes through the lower levels, jumping slightly as the first gunshots echo through the hangar. They’re louder than you had expected, even with the hangar doors opened partway. You feel a bit anxious as you watch the time and his progress, almost as if you’re watching an intense movie.
17...18...19...
Gaz slips through the side door, racing for the red line marking the end. You stare at the timer as Price hits the stop button. Twenty one seconds. You wonder how often they don’t meet their previous records, or if their break really is having that much of an effect on them. You hear Gaz curse quietly as he passes, heading back to stand by Soap as Ghost gets ready at the start.
The nervous anticipation doesn't lessen any as Ghost makes his way through the house, moving swiftly and silently as he always seemed to do. For such a large being he can move so quietly with an ease unlike you’ve ever seen.
You watch the timer as he crosses the red line. 21.9.
You catch a whiff of his scent as he passes, the hint of ozone burning your nose. He’s frustrated. They have to know they’re not performing as well as they know they can. Part of you wonders if it’s your fault they’re not even meeting their best times.
Soap is up last, moving with an ease and focus that you’re not entirely surprised he’s capable of. Though he tends to be the most lighthearted of the four, and the most unserious, he made it on the team for a reason.
Again you watch the timer, still held at rapt attention in the intensity of the moment as he crosses the red line. 25. He lets out a loud string of curses, most of which you don’t understand as he moves back to the start.
“Wait here.” Price says before descending back down the steps.
You’ve seen the change in him as well, a bit more subtle as he always seemed to be in the Captain mindset to some degree. You wonder if he’s ever not the Captain, if there’s a time where he gets to just be John Price. You wonder what he’s like when he doesn’t have the weight of his responsibility constantly on his shoulders. You wonder when the last time he got to let go like that was.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” You say as he joins you once more. You’re beginning to think maybe you made a mistake in asking to come along.
“Most likely.” He says, resetting the timer. “But that’s something we need to know. This is the new normal. They need to learn to work through it.”
Especially if it’s you they’re trying to get to.
You knew there was a risk. Just being associated with them puts you at risk. They’re hidden, anonymous, deeply classified for a reason. You’d gotten that briefing during your time training with the CIA, after Laswell had told you where you would be going. Just knowing their names, who they are, where their home base is, is enough to put you in danger. You were hidden just as much as they were now, your entire existence now hidden beneath layers of security clearance.
You could still be a target, if anyone found out. They might think you have information, details about their missions, about the things they do.
The likelihood of that happening was low, but never zero. There was still risk involved in being around them, a risk you were assigned to take. It was your duty, though, as an omega. Do what you’re told, go where you’re sent, follow your alpha without question.
Institutes really are like the military, you think. Only you’re fighting a different battle than they are.
You’re seated on the couch in your usual spot, curled up with a book. Your pack was having some downtime as Price had an emergency meeting he had to attend. Your heart had jumped a bit at the news, at the thought that they might be pulled away early. They weren’t supposed to get called off on a mission until after your next heat to allow for the adjustment and claiming, but if they were needed...they could be called away before then.
So you’d settled in with a book in the rec room to try and calm your nervous energy.
“Mind if I join ye?”
You look up as Soap enters the rec room, a smile on his face. “No, go ahead.” You offer a smile back.
He joins you on the couch, lifting your legs over his lap. You flush a bit at the bold move, but you were growing used to his boldness. “What are ye readin’?”
“‘Lord of the Flies.’” You say, holding up the cover.
“Did ye finish the other one already?” He asks in astonishment.
“I’ve already read two books since I got here.” You say, laughing a little.
“Och, yer a bright wee lamb, aren’t ye?” He chuckles. “Ye like tae read?”
You nod. “Yeah. It’s good for passing the time.”
He hums, grabbing the remote. “Ghost likes tae read too. Dinnae tell him I told ye that.” He holds up the remote. “Ye mind?”
You shake your head. “No, go ahead.”
He turns on the TV, keeping the volume low as he sits with you. His hand is warm where it rests on your calf, his thumb absentmindedly stroking circles over the fabric. You try to focus on the book but you can’t help the fluttering in your stomach at the proximity of the beta. You keep catching whiffs of his scent, and you’re beginning to feel an urge to ask him about Ghost. If anyone can give you answers, it’ll be Soap.
“Soap?” You ask, closing your book.
He hums, turning to look at you. You stare into those bright blue eyes, your heart fluttering a bit. His eyes are so warm and expressive, shining with something you can’t quite put a name to.
“Does Ghost...hate me?” You ask quietly, knowing with your luck as soon as you start the conversation, the man in question would appear out of nowhere.
Soap’s lips tug up into a smile, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Nae, lass. He doesnae hate ye. Ghost is...” He makes a face, trying to find the right words. “Ghost is very guarded.”
He slips his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You let out a quiet sound in surprise, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders out of instinct. His arms wrap around you, his tactical vest digging into your side a bit, but you’re too focused on the sudden proximity to really care.
“He's no an easy man tae get close tae.” He continues. “I know. Couldnae stand me when we first met. I broke him down, proved myself. We spent enough time together, and that bond just formed naturally.”
“He sees me as a threat.” You say, voicing the opinion you’ve been coming to over the last few days.
“I wouldnae say a threat.” Soap grins, his hand squeezing your side. “A wee yin like ye. He just needs time tae adjust. He's gonnae dae it in his own way.”
“I don’t even need him to really like me.” You say, tracing the Union Jack on the front of Soap’s vest. “I just need him to tolerate me.”
“This is him tolerating ye.” Soap deadpans.
You give him a look. “Well he’s got a funny way of showing it then.”
Soap chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body. “Nah, dinnae worry too much about him, hen.”
You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. It’s Captain Price I need to worry about.”
“I dinnae think ye need tae worry too much there either.” Soap grins. “The Cap’n is head over heels for ye already.”
You give him a look of disbelief, eyebrows raising. “What?”
Soap nods. “Oh aye, I havenae seen him smile this much in all the time I’ve known him.”
You continue to stare in disbelief. You knew Price at least tolerated the idea of you becoming his omega. He’s been nothing but polite, cordial even with you. In the traditional sense he’s already begun courting you, providing and protecting. You still have yet to move beyond the polite tiptoeing, even with how things have been shifting the last few days.
You have the beta’s approval, which you know is an important step in pack formation.
You bite your lip, your fingers curling around the edge of his vest. “You really think he...”
“Mhm.” Soap nods. “Cannae blame him, pretty omega like ye strutting around the base.”
He’s getting closer to you. You can’t do anything but stay still as his face lowers towards yours. Your stomach is fluttering, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. His hand slides down your side, following the curve of your hip before it settles on your thigh. He’s so warm, his scent amplified with your close proximity. You feel a bit dizzy, your head spinning a bit. You understand now how betas can still win over both alphas and omegas.
“We all feel lucky havin’ ye.” He says quietly, his breath fanning your face. His forehead presses against yours, so close to you your noses are brushing.
You wonder what Ghost would do if he walked in and saw you this close to his beta. Would your body fly through a window or a wall? Or would he tackle you, wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze until your head pops or your airway collapses? Or, was Soap right and he would do nothing?
Or would he like it?
The thought sends a shiver down your spine. Soap likes you, both of the betas in your new pack like you. It’s good, you know, having the approval of both betas, even though you don’t technically need both. Price could claim you with only his and Gaz’s approval, though it would be easier if all four approved.
You wonder if Ghosts supposed tolerance of you is because of Soap. The alpha is very protective of his beta, though you don’t doubt Soap would go to bat for you if he needed to.
He might have already.
Soap hasn’t moved, both of you frozen where you are. He wants to kiss you, you think, your brain pulling up all the movies you’ve seen in your life. You’re gripping onto him tightly, your stomach fluttering. You’re nervous, unsure of how to move next. Do you let him kiss you? You’ve only been kissed once before, but that was hardly more than a childish peck on the lips. He wants to kiss you like they do in the movies.
Will Soap be upset if you pull away? Will he force you back and take what he wants? There would be no stopping him. Even if the others were in the building, even if they heard you, would they come to your rescue? Or would they let it happen because it’s your purpose? What would Ghost do if he walked in and saw you? What would Price do? Would Price be upset that he wasn’t the first to kiss you?
You are his claim after all.
You slowly draw yourself back, removing your arm from around his shoulders as you turn slightly to face the TV. You hold your breath, not wanting to catch the souring of Soap’s scent, the tell that he was upset at your decision. You wait for his grip to tighten, for his body to force you back onto the couch. His hand moves from your thigh and you tense, waiting for the reprimanding to come, but instead he simply wraps his arms around your upper body again, holding you like he had been before.
Your heart is still thudding in your chest as you quietly watch the TV, the silence in the room thick but not uncomfortable. You lean your head back on his shoulder, letting yourself relax into him. The almondy scent of beta is thick in the air, likely his doing to diffuse the tension he must be able to feel.
“British TV is weird.” You say, trying to follow along with what’s going on, on the screen.
Soap laughs, squeezing his arms around you for a moment. “Aye, it really is.”
You continue to sit with him, letting his scent relax you. You’ve given up following what’s on the TV, his warmth and presence slowly lulling you until your eyes are drifting closed.
The scent permeates the air everywhere he goes.
Caramel. Vanilla. Strawberries.
No amount of scent blockers can keep it from seeping under his mask, permeating his senses. He’d spray the scent blocker up his nose if he thought it might work. You’re stinking up the base, his beta, his life. Even now he can smell it, the sweet cloud of your scent wafting through the halls.
He can pick up the sharp tang of anxiety on the edge of it, a low growl rumbling through his chest in response. It burns his nose and he hates it. His boots are quiet on the tile floor as he makes for the rec room, following the cocktail of scents. Your pungent sweetness layered over Johnny’s warm spice.
Images flash through his mind of what position he might find you both in. He can smell the musky undertones of Johnny’s desire in the air, a scent he’s very familiar with. He knows how much his beta wants the new omega that’s been forced on them. They don’t need an omega. He knows how much Price fought against it, but even the Captain has begun to fall under your intoxicating spell.
You don’t even know you’re doing it.
His hands curl into fists as he steps into the rec room. The TV is playing some daytime rerun, but his eyes are drawn to the couch. Johnny is fast asleep, his head leaning against yours. You’re asleep in his lap, hand under your cheek, resting against his chest. You’ll have imprints on your skin from your hand and his vest. Johnny’s arms are wrapped tight around you, looking more peaceful than he has in a while.
He’s already comfortable enough to sleep with you.
“MacTavish!” He snaps, startling both of you.
The only thing that keeps you from flailing to the floor is Johnny’s quick reflexes, his grip tightening around you to keep you on his lap. Johnny blinks the sleep from his eyes, squinting up at him for a moment.
“Let’s move.” He growls, turning and leaving the rec room.
He refuses to look at you in your sleepy haze, not quite as quick to wake as Johnny. He doesn’t want to watch the way Johnny eases you to your feet, how small you look leaning against him as you grumble sleepily. He doesn’t want to watch as Johnny guides you to your door, easing you into the safety of your room while they leave to do their jobs.
He hates the way he turns back to look as Johnny speaks quietly to you, those big, shiny puppy eyes staring up at him. He hates the churning in his stomach as you soften at Johnny’s kiss to your forehead, the way you watch Johnny walk down the hallway. Ghost opens the door for his beta, letting him out, but he can’t bring himself to move until he hears the click of the lock on your door sliding into place.
Taglist:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieeee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#a/b/o#141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#poly 141#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#x reader
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Fashion n' Cars
Pairings: F1 Grid x Verstappen!Supermodel!Reader
Summary: Max Verstappen has a sister who is a famous supermodel but what happens when other F1 drivers start taking interest in her?
Warnings: None!
fc: Emily Ratajkwoski
Proofread!!
A/N: Happy 150 followerssss, this is a special post for celebrating our 150 followers. I js wanna say thank you so much for all the support and appreciation. I really do appreciate it, your feedbacks and comments makes my heart flutter. I promise to always give you the best i can and here's to many more <3
and again if u want to be added on my taglist u can input ur user on this form ^^
https://forms.gle/4Pk1HSDjTEg51Xo79
part two part three
ynverstappen
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 56,347,232 others
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maxverstappen1 beautiful but 4th pic was not necessary schat
ynverstappen im a model. It's my job. 😁
maxverstappen1 i'm sorry?? actually no im not sorry, why are you in my sister's instagram??? @charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc magnifique
ynverstappen thank you cha ^_^
maxverstappen1 stay away from my sister.
user not max being protective HAHAHAHAH
user GRAAAA MILANO FASHION WEEK + YN = FIREEEE
user omg did charles js comment :000
f1 can't wait to see you back on track Y/N
maxverstappen1 to see me win 😎
ynverstappen 😂🫡
ynverstappen
liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 48,987,743 others
ynverstappen me n' fashion n' cars p.s a big congrats to my brother and to uncle nando and to pierre for a great race <3
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maxverstappen1 dank je schat but where's my picture?
ynverstappen graag gedaan and no <3
fernandoalo_official muchas gracias ☺
pierregasly merci ma belle, c'est merveilleux de te voir à la course
maxverstappen1 back off second french guy
pierregasly you don't speak french.
maxverstappen1 google translate exists.
landonorris was nice seeing you Y/N 🤗
maxverstappen1 stop flirting with my sister kid.
lewishamilton if you're ever looking for a new last name, Hamilton will suit you darling 😍
maxverstappen1 i will crash into you the next race.
carlossainz55 Te ves perfecta en rojo mi amor
maxverstappen1 you're second on my list of "drivers to crash" 😊
user SHUT UP I CAN'T MAX REPLYING TO THE DRIVERS COMMENTS IS SO FUNNY HAHHAHAHA
ynverstappen
liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 60,834,765
ynverstappen he's handsome af
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part two??? :3
TAGLIST
@euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @Inchident-jgp @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore555 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @emmy626 @hiireadstuff @urfavouriteanon @darleneslane @anon555xxx @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyy
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#formula 1 au#f1 grid x reader#f1 blurb#carkos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#fernando alonso x reader#pierre gasly x reader#max verstappen x reader
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she chose me
Summary: Steve's hopes get crushed when he wrongly assumes you'd choose him over Bucky.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x agent!female reader
Warnings: 18+, no condom (but f is on birth control), teasing, pet names, jealousy, sergeant + sir + daddy kìnk, vibranium arm kìnk, language, degrading, praising, no mention of y/n etc.
Word Count: 6.9K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it! This was inspired by the "She chose me." TikTok trend.
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
You’re all quiet, watching the back and forth between Cap and Bucky. Not even Sam intervenes.
“You didn’t-”
“This is just not gonna work, Buck.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, with an expression you like to describe as bitchy. He’s so sassy without even intending to, and you wonder how bitchier he’d be if this wasn’t his best friend talking.
“Let’s see if people agree.”
He looks around waving at you and the rest of the team while Sam just snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.
But you’re not amused because you have no idea how to handle this diplomatically.
“Whose side are you on?” Steve’s tone is deep and authoritative, making you feel a little uneasy.
You don’t know how to talk to Avengers sometimes. You are on friendly terms, even when you train. Sam always cracks jokes, Steve shares stories and gives advice, and Bucky is Bucky. Nat and Sam call him The Machine for a reason. But he’s a really good professor and an even better observer. He pays attention to every recruit and remembers what they need to work on. You find him extra intimidating because he’s also the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. No exaggeration. And it’s not in the usual clean and golden boy way you are used to, anyway. He’s been through shit and it’s showing in the way he carries himself and doesn’t talk much when it’s not needed.
But you pay attention too, and this is why you think you were chosen to lead the recruits for this mission. You are on good terms with the Avengers, and Bucky probably approved the idea of working with you because you didn’t piss him off like most do. You know he hates chit chat, you learned how to read most of his stares and to not take it personally when he makes remarks about your fighting skills. They’re not your strongest asset, but you have a flair and you come up with the best solutions under pressure. You managed to pin him down once for a few seconds, and that is probably your greatest achievement.
But in moments like this, you don’t know how to say things without upsetting one side.
“You won’t get in trouble, don’t worry,” Bucky adds confidently. You’re not surprised when four out of your six colleagues agree with Bucky. They explain quickly why, emphasizing how much faster and efficient it would be if you followed that route, but their voices are still trembling. And you get it. Telling Captain America to his face you prefer his best friend’s plan over his will always be a risk. But if he gets mad, that says more about him as a leader than about anyone else.
Sam raises his hands in the air defensively, probably enjoying this as a show, but based on the looks he shares with Bucky, it seems like he agrees with him too.
You try to find your words, knowing you’re the last one from your team to speak, but before you can even open your mouth, Steve already smiles, pointing at you with his index finger. “Look at this, though! She agrees with me… She chose me.”
His grin is cold and a little arrogant. What you don’t notice, though, is the intention Steve had when he decided to use those exact words, but Bucky does. And he clenches his jaw at the same time his vibranium hand curls into a fist; a silent response to the not-so-innocent assumption that Steve made.
After a few seconds, Bucky leans in, his gaze steady and confident. “Did she?”
There is no way you would pick Steve’s plan. You are too smart and you have too much integrity to pick his side just to kiss his ass. He raises an eyebrow at you this time, a confident smirk forming on his lips. “Did you really choose him? You really think his plan would work better, doll?”
You feel surrounded by Bucky… attacked even. Your cheeks are getting hotter, too, and you know there is nothing you can do to hide your redness. Doll… He called you that when he turned you again on your back the day you managed to pin him down. It’s something about the way he says it that makes it absolutely deadly. Your first instinct was to be offended, but you reminded yourself he is a man born in 1917. He lived his twenties in the 40s, and doll was used as slang for sweetheart.
Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly, directing your response to Steve. “It’s not about choosing sides, but considering all perspectives for the best outcome. And your plan, Captain, has its strengths, but I’m inclined to agree with Sergeant Bucky.” You bite your lip. “It’s about finding the most effective strategy for the mission, not a personal preference of any kind.”
Steve’s smile falls off, but your attention shifts back to Bucky’s grin that lightens up his face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Well, then,” Steve sighs. “Can I have a word with you in private?”
You don’t realize he’s speaking to you until he says your name.
Surprised, you jump. “Yes, of course.”
*
Steve leans back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips as you write down the last details. “You know, I value your insights on the mission.”
You look surprised because how can he value your opinion when this is your second mission only? He’s Captain America!
“Oh?”
“I trust your judgment, and your training is going great. If you and the team chose Bucky’s plan, then we do it.” You see his jaw clench, though, so you know it’s not easy for him to say it. Even if it’s his friend… interesting. “Maybe, when all is over, we could grab a cup of coffee and talk about other things. What do you think?”
You’re silent for a couple of seconds, trying to realize if he means it in the way you think he is. There is no way, right?
Just in case, you offer him a friendly smile, “Thanks, Cap! I value our teamwork too. Coffee sounds great after. It could be a good way for all of us to unwind as a team.”
He nods, sighing. “I’m glad you’re on board. I’m looking forward to that coffee, even if it’s with the whole team. And please, call me Steve.”
So he was flirting…
“Thank you,” you pause as you stand up. “I’m gonna talk with Sergeant Barnes so we can get things ready for tomorrow. Have a good night, Steve!”
*
You knock only three times before the door opens and a Bucky dressed in shorts and a white tank top lets you in with a smirk.
“Sergeant Barnes,” you nod as you take a step inside his bedroom. He only stays here before and after missions when he is too tired to go to his apartment, so you don’t expect to see any personal objects there except for a few clothes.
“What happened to Bucky?”
You look at him surprised, tightening your hold on the tablet you are holding.
What?
“Sir?”
Bucky closes his eyes for a second. “Earlier, during the meeting, you called me Sergeant Bucky.”
Shit!
Maybe you should start calling him Sergeant Barnes in your head as well to avoid these fucks up. You feel so embarrassed that you want to disappear. You don’t want him to think you disrespect him in any way. His rank carries a lot of weight and trauma.
You clear your throat, slightly flustered. “My apologies, Sergeant Barnes. It won’t happen again, sir.” You offer him an apologetic smile while trying very hard to maintain a professional tone.
Bucky’s smirk softens as he places his flesh hand on your shoulder. You feel your legs transforming into jelly.
“My point was, doll, there is no need to be so formal. We’re off-duty here, and titles aren’t necessary. Just call me Bucky.”
“Alright, Bucky,” you smile. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but I came to discuss the plan for tomorrow. I talked to Steve and we agreed it would be wise for you to lead the way as Mr. Wilson-”
“Steve?” Bucky interrupts before you can finish your sentence. He doesn’t even bother to look at your tablet, either.
“Yes, we talked in the office.”
“No, I get that. But you call him Steve? What happened to Cap?” Bucky knows that might sound really childish, but he can’t help it. What is Steve trying to do?
Was it some kind of test? Did you misunderstand everything with Steve?
“Oh, Cap allowed me to call him Steve earlier. I am sorry if it sounded disrespectful.”
He squeezes your shoulder even before moving his hand to your chin, raising your face, and you feel yourself blushing again.
The blue of his eyes is so intense that you can’t see how anyone would be able to survive it.
“You apologize too much, doll. I don’t like it.”
You can’t breathe. “Sor-” You pause, realizing he is right. Apologizing is second nature to you. It feels wrong when you don’t, and you do it without even thinking about it. “I guess I do that a lot. I’ll work on it, Bucky.”
“I’m not your teacher right now, doll.” He smiles, letting go of your chin. “Just remember, we’re not all about formalities here. Relax a bit.”
Easier said than done. But you need to keep it together and ignore the urge to grab his face and finally kiss him. So you focus on talking about the mission and the members of the team. You talk about all of your colleagues, and Bucky helps you take notes. He switched so easily from friendly to the sergeant mode, which is fascinating.
He explains step by step your positions, the way things are gonna happen and even two back up plans. Two!
You’re not overwhelmed by the amount of information, but you’re quite surprised by how much he talks and how well he answers every possible question any of you could have. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak for more than a few seconds continuously so you try to focus on every word.
Only when he finishes and you close your tablet after sending everyone the plan, do you see him relaxing again.
With a smirk, he asks you, “How did Steve take it?”
“He was fine with the plan, even suggested if we feel like doing it, to get one or two more members. But based on what you said, we won’t need it.”
“He has a point, of course, but if you said you don’t think you need it, good.” You try not to stare at his lips as he speaks, but it’s so hard. “And I meant how he took that you chose my plan. That you chose me.”
You meet Bucky’s gaze, trying to keep your composure, “Steve seemed more than okay with it from what I saw. He values the team’s decision. Plus, it’s not about choosing sides, and-”
“And not a personal preference of any kind,” he interrupts just to quote you, and you don’t know if you should feel flattered he remembers word by word or to prepare yourself for a negative reaction. To be honest, your head is spinning and him being so close makes it worse. “I heard you very well, but I’m curious…”
He extends his hand and carefully tucks your hair behind your ears. You swear you can hear your own heartbeat going crazy. And if you do, so does he.
“About what?”
“Would the answer be different if it was about personal preferences, doll? Would you choose him?”
You freeze. You are simply in shock because this cannot happen to you. From Steve asking you out earlier to your crush basically doing this. You’re confused and a little tired, but you didn’t imagine all of this. Does Bucky want you? Is that it?
You take a deep breath praying you won’t choke on the words. “In a hypothetical scenario based on personal preferences, Bucky, I would still not pick him.”
Your voice is trembling, but you maintain eye contact even after admitting it. You didn’t choose Bucky’s plan because of your crush, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or exposed. He’s the one who let you call him Bucky, who touched you and asked you that. You don’t know if he counts romance as a personal preference, but there is an urge inside you to find out. You wonder how he’d taste, if he’d kiss you back if you kissed him first, how your mission would be if you crossed the line. Your thoughts are foggy.
“So you’d choose me.”
You clear your throat. “Yes.”
“Over Captain America.” His grin is so boyish and cute that it makes you smile. He looks younger and less… burdened when he gets like this. Bucky chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Well, well, well. Looks like I got someone not kissing Captain America’s ass for a change. That’s really rare. You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”
You mask your gasp with a cough, deciding to play along, a sly grin forming on your face. “Maybe I just have a thing for underdogs.”
Bucky’s eyes light up with amusement to your annoyance but also excitement, and he leans in, taking the tablet from your hand and placing it on the floor without a care. “Underdogs, huh? Ouch, that hurt a little. I thought I was your favorite super-soldier.”
You can’t help but giggle, feeling enough encouragement from his reaction to touch his vibranium arm just to feel it. You got the chance to do it only for a couple of seconds and it always fascinated you, especially the golden pattern. The fact he can feel everything because it’s connected to his nerves is insane to you. It probably is to him too. “Oh, you are. And my favorite teacher too. But a little competition never hurts, Sergeant Barnes.”
You can see he feigns offense. “Competition, huh?” Bucky’s playfulness turns into a serious tone as he adds, “Well, let me show you why I’m the only choice.”
And without warning, he closes the distance between you and kisses you.
You gasp, taken aback, but you bring your hands to his face and hip before you deepen the kiss. He’s not as gentle as you expected, his left arm flying to your ass and bringing your hips closer to his immediately.
You moan when you feel his hard on so close to your pussy, and tug on his hair a little.
“Aren’t you a naughty girl?” He lowers his lips to your jaw. “I could basically smell how wet you got earlier as soon as I called you doll. And so did Steve.”
You want to open your eyes and tell him to stop talking about his friend. You don’t want to be turned off, but he already continues.
“He thought he stood a chance with my girl.”
“Your girl?” You whimper when his teeth graze your neck before his tongue licks on the spot. He intends to leave a mark, you have no doubt, and you absolutely love it.
“Mine.” His whisper makes you shiver. “I want to mark you. The thought of having you covered in hickeys during the mission makes me so hard it almost hurts. Gonna show everyone you belong to me.”
“Do I belong to you, Sergeant Barnes?” You take a step back but let your hand linger on his chest teasingly. “Because I don’t remember you asking me to dinner.”
Bucky grins. “Dinner is a classic move, and I adapted very well to the present. But of course I can stop with the kisses right now, and we can have some late dinner.”
You roll your eyes at his unbelievably good answer. Fucker!
“This is not what I meant, Barnes, and you know it.”
“I don’t know it. But I want to know something else.”
You don’t even doubt he means something dirty because it’s too obvious.
“Like what?”
“Like how your pretty pussy tastes while you come all over my face.”
You gasp at the no-filter words. You’re so used to Steve’s warning you to use proper language, that you did not expect it.
“I thought men your age were all about being proper and refined… Don’t they teach subtlety in the 40s etiquette class or did you skip it?”
You tease him on purpose, and he knows it. You are well aware what a nerd he was in school. Such a nerd that it was displayed in the museum. You snort. You were a nerd too, so you love it.
Bucky chuckles, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he brings his hands to your pants, unzipping them without warning. Holy. Shit. The way you love this. He reads your body language very well and he has his super soldier senses.
“Well, doll, proper and refined went out the window with the 40s, right? Because otherwise you’d not be standing here letting me undress you.”
You raise your eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. His energy is so light, and he looks like a man without a worry in moments like this.
“You’re the one who offered to show me what the little upgraded version of you can do, after all.” You take off your shoes before pulling down your pants as soon as he drags them to your ankles. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck James Bucky Barnes! “Why would I say no?”
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, doll. Gonna make sure you have the time of your life.”
You snort, amused by his eagerness, and decide to take off your shirt yourself to see his reaction. And he doesn’t disappoint.
He grins like a child, his hands flying straight to your back without taking his eyes off your chest. And before you know it, your bra is on the floor and Bucky cups your breasts, bringing your left tit to his mouth.
If you gasped when you felt the cold touch of the vibranium, now you moan loudly, enjoying the way he licks around your skin. He avoids your nipple on purpose, so you decide to take matters into your own hands quite literally and get a grab of the top of his hair, forcing him to suck on your nipple.
“Fuck! I didn’t expect you to be so whorish,” you say without realizing, and you feel his snort and breath on the wet patch he left with his tongue.
Bucky’s grin turns into a sly smirk. “This is what you call whorish? I guess I’ll give you an experience you won’t ever forget.”
“Talk less, do more.”
You want to enjoy more of this. You have a mission in a few hours, and it might be just a one time thing anyway since he is Bucky Barnes. You don’t want to get your hopes high.
Bucky lets go of your breast with a pop and moves up, raising your head so he can kiss you.
It’s electrifying, and desperate, and not enough. You move your hands to the bottom hem of his tank top and lift it, interrupting the kiss so you can take it off completely. You just want to feel him, all of him.
You step back for a second, wanting to look at him properly, but you notice a change in his eyes that he, of course, tries to mask.
“Why are you nervous? You look like a fucking god! I should be nervous here.”
Bucky’s eyes flicker with vulnerability.
“I guess I’m not used to someone seeing my scars or my,” he waves toward his vibranium arm, and you frown.
“I will sound totally weird, but they all make you really cool, Serge.” You trace down a few scars when you see he is completely relaxed and continue. “Do I have to lick them all to make you believe me?”
You move your hands under his shorts before he can answer, though, finally touching his cock. You both moan at the feeling. He’s hard and thick, and the head is wet. You bring your fingers to his lips, smearing some of the precome before leaning in to suck it off.
You’re not prepared for his moan or for the way he attacks your mouth, and definitely not for him to snap your underwear using his flesh hand. Not even his vibranium one!
You moan into his mouth. He makes you feel like you’re floating and you need to fuck him right then.
“You’re not just whorish, you’re a whore!” You pause when you feel his fingers close to your entrance. “No wonder why you didn’t belong in the 40s.” Then you move, allowing him to touch you. You don’t realize what you said, and when you do, in the middle of dragging his shorts down, you curse yourself in your mind. It sounds like the most disrespectful thing ever. This man’s fate was changed by monsters who cryogenically freezing him and brainwashing him, and you are selfishly talking as if he belonged to you. “I’m sorry that was awful of-” But he interrupts you before you can get a chance to properly apologize.
“You like that, don’t you?”
A wave of shame surges through your body. Your cheeks are burning.
“I’m really sorry,” you take your hands off his shorts and look away, not even peaking at his cock. You ruined it, didn’t you? “I will just go.”
Bucky shakes his head, puffing. “For such an amazing agent, you’re not a good room reader, are you?”
Your eyes finally drop to his cock, which you’ve been trying to avoid in the last minute out of shame, but there’s no need anymore since he’s teasing you. He’s just a bit longer than average, and he’s really thick, and the veins do not make it ugly at all. You are curious how it’d feel in your hand, how much it’d twitch, how Bucky would moan.
“You aren’t a good room reader, either then, Barnes, since I’m not getting dicked down and my hair pulled, am I?”
Something snaps in him, and it’s visible in his eyes. You don’t know what to expect so you just watch him. But you can’t. He is so quick that, despite your crazy training, you don’t anticipate his move. His hand wraps around the hair from your nape and fists it hard enough for you to move along with him.
“Wanna be dicked down? Fine by me, get on your hands and knees.”
You’re surprised, of course you are, but his tone is firm and you find yourself nodding and doing what he told you. You know you can say no; there is nothing in Bucky’s energy that makes you feel unsafe or as if you have no choice.
At the same time, he lets go of your hair just so he can take off his shorts completely.
“Are you not gonna make sure I’m wet enough for you?” You ask when you see him getting closer to you again, even though you are very wet. You just want to push his buttons.
“I can smell you if I focus on it, let me remind you.” He smiles. “I know you’re soaked, and you wanna be dicked down. Or are you backing off?”
Challenging prick!
You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of your dick.”
“Good, because he wants to be friends with you.”
You close your eyes, cringing. “God, you were this close to turning me off.” You raise your hand in the air, putting your weight on the left one as you bring your thumb and index finger close to each other to show him exactly what a thin line this was.
Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you forget it in a second.”
Your first instinct is to want to tease him about the second remark, to ask him if this is how long he can last, but you’re too horny now. And you also need rest for the mission tomorrow.
“How, uh…” You pause not knowing how to ask this properly. “Can you, uh, make babies?” You cringe at your words. “I mean, widows can’t… and I just wanted to know if we need a condom to be extra careful since you might be extra fertile because I am on the pill and I have no idea how sex with a super sold-”
Bucky’s lips press against yours suddenly, making you stop talking.
“Breathe.”
“I’m breathing,” you whisper and he cups your face.
“Not enough. We can use a condom if you want, but I’ll need to check where I can find one. Or we can go bare if you trust me… I can pull out and you are already protected, so there shouldn’t be a problem, I think.” He pauses to kiss your lips again. “But we can still use a condom anyway to be extra careful as you said.”
You frown at that, suddenly more desperate to feel him bare than ever before.
“No, I trust you. I have never done it without a condom before, and I assume you didn’t have much time to uh… have sex.”
Bucky snorts amused. “Now why do you assume that?”
“You look like you haven’t been fucked since 1945.”
The fact he doesn’t even deny it makes you feel even bolder, so you reach for his cock and place your thumb on his wet head while wrapping the rest of your hand around the length. “Are you gonna even last for a second once you’re inside me, Sergeant Barnes?” You snort when you see him trying to hold back his moan by biting his lip. It makes you feel happy. “Or do you even manage to get inside me before- ahh!” He is predictable this time as he pulls your hair, so you laugh.
“Are you familiar with this whole red, yellow, green color code?”
You gasp. “Yes, read about it, never needed it. But how do you know that?”
“I read about it, too.” His grin is so wide and beautiful that you melt again.
“Quite naughty of you, Serge. Reading dirty books. Needed some ideas?”
Bucky smirks, kissing you again and again. “Gonna need a review after I finish with you.”
“You finishing with me?” You smile. “Big words, Barnes, but no action.”
He knows you challenge him, and you don’t try to hide it. Do you have to beg for his cock for him to finally fuck you? He is edging you on purpose at this point.
You let out a whimper in anticipation when he moves behind you.
“Are you sure you’re fine with no condom?”
“Ihm, I’m not ovulating anyway,” you whisper, trying not to sound too eager. But you are. You want to get dicked down, indeed. And you wanted it for months.
His silence makes you a bit nervous, but the sounds of him dropping to his knees behind you, followed by his hand grabbing his cock and positioning it at your entrance while squeezing your hip with the metal arm.
You love the sensation of the coldness, but you love even more when he leans in to kiss your back before he pushes inside you.
It takes two tries, though, for him to be able to push halfway inside you because you kept pushing his dick out of you instantly. You managed to take him only when he brought his fingers to your clit and rubbed a bit.
You still laughed though because the sounds were too funny and his little frustrated whimpers were hilarious. The amusement turns quickly into more horniness when you feel him stretching you without even being fully inside you. You dreamed and daydreamed about it… fantasized about it, but it still wasn’t even close to how it actually feels. How full it feels. It’s like you cannot even think, your body is weak.
“Fuck,” your voice is cracking. “Deeper.”
“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers.
“So?” You bring your hand to his ass, trying to show him you really need it deeper. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing? Or are you trying not to come, Mr. Super Soldier?”
“You have quite a mouth on you, I think you need it-”
“You talk way too much. Are you nervous or-” It’s his turn to interrupt you with a thrust. Such a deep thrust your head is spinning. He’s not fully inside you, you realize, but he doesn’t try to, instead, he starts to fuck you, taking your breath away. His fingers leave your clit, grabbing your hips with both hands.
There is no question anymore, just fucking as you wanted.
And it feels like heaven. You try to keep your eyes open just so you look at him over your shoulder, but it’s impossible.
“Cat got your tongue?”
You groan. “No, you did, n-now fuck me harder.”
“Well, well,” he slows down and you almost wanna die. “This is not how you talk to your Sergeant, is it?”
He can’t do this!
“Fuck you!”
“What does my baby want?” His thrusts are too slow and teasing, just like his voice. “Use your words, beg for it.”
You’re not turned off, surprisingly. Not at all, on the contrary, the firm tone he uses, the words… you’re getting hornier, if that is even possible.
“I love your cock, Sergeant, so please give it to me. Fuck me harder and faster. Need you to pull my hair, and choke me, and… be rough.” You would be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. You know he wouldn’t make fun of you for this, so you trust him.
“Only mine.” You take a deep breath relieved when you feel his right hand wrap around your hair. “Do you hear me? Answer me.”
You nod, unable to say anything because he starts to thrust hard and fast, just like he did before he stopped. Your tits are jumping at the impact, and you have to dig your toes into the floor.
“Use your words. If you want my,” he moans. “If you want my cock and my hand wrapped around your neck, you have to use your big girl words. Tell me you’re only mine.”
You can’t hold back your tears this time. You love it so much, you can’t believe you waited so long to have him.
“Only yours.”
“No Steve.”
He lets go of your hair, wrapping his hand around your neck. No pressure, not moving it, he’s just holding it there.
“There’s n-no Steve, Sergeant. Only you. My pussy belongs to you. I o-only want to get filled by you.”
You know he’s smiling without needing to look at him.
“You love your Sergeant’s cock, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to speak while thrusting so hard. He’s a fucking robot, indeed. “No one else could give you this, no matter how much they tried.”
You feel the building in your core. You’re so, so close already, so you try to place your weight on only one hand and bring the other to cover his, and before he can say something, you encourage him to choke you by pressing his fingers on the sides of your neck.
You moan so loudly you surprise even yourself. You sound like a cat.
“Please, sergeant, please, choke me.” You repeat your move and you close your eyes. “Please, daddy, I’m so c-close.”
He pauses for a second, and you don’t know why.
Before you can ask what’s wrong, he doesn’t just start to thrust inside you again, he dicks you down just the way you wanted. It’s as if he fucks the air out of your lungs every time you exhale. You’re crying and screaming at this point, so loud the whole floor must hear you. But you’re not ashamed. You feel so close you can almost taste it.
You barely hear his whimpers, but they’re there and they’re so beautiful.
You get no warning when he decides to squeeze the sides of your neck: gently at first, but then? Perfect. So perfect you come without warning, not being able to even say his name. You just scream some nonsense, your hand dropping from his to the floor so you can ground yourself properly. Your whole body is burning, and burning, and burning, coming alive for what feels like an eternity.
He doesn’t wait even for a second after you come down from your orgasm. Instead, he gets his dick out of you, grabbing you by your ass and raising you in his arms. Still weak, you barely have the strength to wrap your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck. He’s sweaty but not that hot. His metal arm is making you cool down.
“Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His lips find your forehead and you fight the urge to kiss his neck. You feel so small in his arms… and as if no one can hurt you.
You’re smiling like a fool when your back hits his bed, and so is he. Such a beautiful, blinding smile.
You let him spread your legs before you drag his face down so you can kiss him. You bite his lip hard until he opens his mouth, moaning when you feel him entering you again. This time, you’re relaxed so he thrusts inside you so much easier.
“Gonna make you come again around your daddy’s cock..”
His hands wrap your legs around his ass when he starts to thrust again.
“You’re quite… into it, Sergeant Barnes. So dirty!”
He gently grabs your jaw. “Tongue out.”
You do it, opening your mouth and waiting, and waiting until you finally understand what he’s about to do.
Instead of being grossed out, as you expected, you eagerly swallow the saliva that he lets drip from his mouth, which lands on your tongue.
You bat your eyes as you start to move your hips to meet his thrusts halfway, and that sends him into a frenzy.
“Fucking hell, you don’t want to sleep tonight, do you?” He asks sarcastically, but you don’t have enough air to tease him with a stamina comment. “You want me to make you scream and swallow my spit and come till we have to go to that fucking mission. Till your beloved Steve needs to come to us himself and hear us covered in come but still fucking.” You moan at the idea of your teammates finding out about this. You get awful comments anyway; at least you can get him for real and rub it in their faces. “You would like that, wouldn’t ya? Having all my undivided attention on you, not caring that my best friend is mad…” The thrusts are so deep that your head falls on the pillow instantly. You cannot keep your eyes open for even a second and you’re crying again. “Not caring my pal wanted you so badly he even tried to take you out tonight.”
“Sergeant-”
Thrust after thrust. You grab his forearm as tightly as you can so you can have something to hold onto.
“He thought he could have you, that you’d choose him. Come on, love. Come on, scream my name, let them hear. Let them all hear whose cock you cry for. Who is the one you belong to.” His balls slap against your skin so hard they tickle you. But not even that can distract you from almost reaching your orgasm. His words, his cock, his possessiveness…
“Sergeant, please. No one but you, can I… c-can I touch my clit? I’m so, so close.”
You don’t have to, though, because he is quick enough to bring his flesh hand between your bodies and rub your clit just the way you need it.
“F-fuck, coming,” you manage to warn him before the pleasure hits you. It’s so overwhelming you see white, digging your nails into his forearm.
You don’t know what you call him… daddy, Bucky or sergeant, but it doesn’t matter. You hear his praise, how you’re his good girl, and his words encouraging you to come for him.
When you can focus again, you kiss him with everything you have.
“Need you to come for me, Sergeant Barnes,” you whisper between kisses. “Need you to come inside me, need you to fill me up with your come, sir.”
He hisses loudly, his eyes being more grey than blue.
“Don’t tease me.”
“I mean it,” you make eye contact, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “Not the heat of the moment. I need your come, daddy. I’m on birth-”
He kisses you so hard your teeth end up hitting, but you don’t care. This is everything.
“Gonna come, gonna give you what you want. Gonna make you my come s-slut. Is that what you needed?”
“Yes, yes.” You’re so excited to watch him finish you don’t even realize how much you like being called his come slut until he says it again. “Come on, Sergeant, come for me.”
After you say that, it only takes him two more thrusts to finish, moaning your name.
His eyes close, and you notice how pretty his eyelashes are. And the little moles on his face… his mouth semi-open and his hair in all directions.
You want to witness this every day.
Before you can stop yourself, you lean in to kiss his nose and cheeks, letting your hips move at the same time.
“C-can’t… doesn’t stop,” he manages to groan, and you bring your hand to his nape, caressing his hair as he rides out his orgasm.
When he finally finishes, though, his head falls on top of your breasts, his mouth finding your nipple and playing with it before sucking it fully into his mouth.
“Easy, Bucky,” you moan, but he keeps going, though.
You have to pull his hair, to make him stop.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I need to uh… I’m tired.”
You’re back to your shy self. But his smile still makes you feel so relaxed.
“Got you tired, huh?” He winks, giving your breasts a kiss before pressing his lips against yours. “Fuck, I’ve never been so aroused in my entire life. Won’t even mention how happy I am.”
“Me neither,” you whisper.
“Well, we need to get used to it.”
You laugh so happily that you think your chest will explode. It’s surreal.
“You owe me that dinner after all.”
“A million dinners.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Trying to charm me?”
He pecks you one more time before getting out of you with a whimper.
“I’ve already done it.”
It’s weird to be empty like this again, but seeing your come and wetness on his pubic hair or dripping out of your pussy just to soak the sheets beneath you distracts you. You made a mess.
“We need to clean this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says distractedly as he uses his index finger to push some come back inside you. Jesus! “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You smile. “You’re a whore.”
“Your whore.” He slowly gets out of bed, grabbing his shorts from the floor.
“Want me to go?” You ask all of a sudden, gaining a confused look from him.
“Why would I want that? Unless you do, of course…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix it a little. “But I want you to stay.”
“Saw you dressing.” You bring your knees up just to put your chin on top of them. You feel extra shy.
He smiles. “Just gonna get you some water. I don’t want you dehydrated.”
*
Bucky knew Steve was in the kitchen as soon as he went down the stairs. He smiles casually, not giving him a second look as he goes straight to the fridge. It’s not like he hasn’t seen him in shorts or shirtless before, and Bucky knows he knew exactly what happened upstairs.
“Can’t sleep?” Steve’s tone is so obvious Bucky almost laughs.
“Not sleepy yet. What about you? You’re alright, punk?”
“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip from his own glass of water; his hands tightly wrapped around the glass.
“Still mad about earlier? You know I’m right.”
Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s all good.”
Bucky sighs dramatically. He loves Steve, he is his brother, but sometimes he is so annoying.
“Well, try to get some sleep. I suggest you wear some earplugs or something, though,” Bucky suggests casually, taking a whole bottle of water. “We wouldn’t want you too sleepy tomorrow. And the night is young.” He even winks at Steve, making him clear his throat.
“Buck…”
“Not a super soldier perk, I know, but you understand, right?” The smirk he suddenly gives Steve is almost sinister. “She chose me after all, and I gotta let her test-drive me. Have a good night!”
Even though he turns around, Bucky doesn’t miss the way Steve’s hold gets so tight that his glass almost breaks.
Bucky doesn’t regret it. He had it coming when he thought you’d choose him.
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x agent!reader#bucky barnes x agent!femalereader#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#my stories#my fanfics#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#sebastian stan#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x agent! female reader
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Triple Threat. (Keegan, König, & Ghost X Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, double penetration, Sex Pollen, drugs, death, violence, poorly translated German, (sorry if I missed any.)
It’s been a long day.
You’ve been walking for miles behind the trio of masked men. You aren’t even sure why you were sent on this mission, considering the three men in front of you were the strongest. Physically and Mentally. They’re all skilled, more skilled than you’ll ever be. But you obey orders and even though you’re pointless to be here, you’re still enjoying yourself. König thought you’d be useful, you can’t argue there.
You’re lagging behind a bit, listening to everything going on. You’ve got a clear idea of how this mission is supposed to go. Capture the target, see what he knows, leave no survivors.
After a couple bomb threats from this person with the target of the base you all stayed on, you had no choice but to do this. You were getting too close to his operation and he was getting desperate. Which means whatever he has going on, is not good. You’d been walking a few miles, it’s where you were dropped off. You were closing in on the building he was in. It was all dense jungle around it. Nowhere to run.
As you approached the building, you noticed quite a few men outside. They were loading up a truck with crates of something. None of you had any kind of idea what it could be. “Keegan and Ghost, you two go ahead. You’re the quietest.” You nod. They give you nods of their own before splitting off into their own directions. “I’m going to go around, see if I can’t get a clear shot of some on the other side.” You mumble to König. He tilts his head. “Be safe, schatz.” You smile, “always.”
You make your way around, not having any idea of what awaits you ahead.
König watches through his scope, not sure why he’s out here when he did better with close combat, but nevertheless he kept quiet and stayed hidden. He watched Ghost and Keegan zero in.
“Y/N, how’s it looking?” He says into his radio.
He receives nothing but silence.
“Y/N? Do you copy?”
After another few minutes of silence, he begins to panic.
“Y/N isn’t responding, she circled around to get a better view, verrücktes Mädchen.” He mumbles the rest as he releases the button on his radio. “Shit. We have to get inside.” Ghost calls back.
“Keegan, do you copy?”
Ghost calls.
Goosebumps rise on his skin when he gets nothing in return. He’s breathing hard, resting up against a door. “Keegan?” He asks again. He sighs. “König. Keegan isn’t answering either.”
He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He’s surprised when König doesn’t call back.
“König?”
Silence.
“God damnit.“ he breathes, taken by surprise when a dart is being shot into his neck. “What the f-“
That’s the last he remembers.
Slowly, one by one, they’re waking up. They’re on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. They’ve killed most of the threats, but there’s still one. “Rise and shine.” He smiles. Their vision is blurry but they can hear you whimpering. When they fully register what’s going on, they start to panic. You’re strapped to a chair, fully naked. You’ve got a cloth tied around your mouth. “What the fuck is going on?” Keegan yells. “Ah, so you can talk.” The man smiles. He’s breathing hard, fighting against his restraints. He runs a knife over your chest and you close your eyes tightly, breathing heavily. “Deep breaths darling. Yeah, that’s it.” He chuckles.
König’s eyes darken. He wants to rip this man’s head off for touching you.
“Your precious girl here is infected now. Well… all of you are.” He chuckles. “This little dart here. Holds 1 Milliliter of the sweetest drug you can get your hands on.” He holds up the little dart. “I prescribe about 1/4 of that for my very special clients. You’re all infected with enough of this to kill a horse.” He laughs. “What the hell is it?” Ghost seethes. “Oh? You don’t know?” He smirks. “It’s a sex drug. A bit like the over the counter ones you can buy, but on steroids. When you take a little bit, you get aroused, you produce pheromones that attract people, makes sex intense. But when you take in more than the recommended amount..” he clicks his tongue.
“Heart rate picks up. Blood pressure rises. Keeps rising and rising until it bottoms out. You’ll either die of a heart attack or your heart will just give out.” He laughs. “So.. your girl here. She was infected first. Which means she’s going to die first, and you’re all going to watch her squirm. She’s going to beg for relief, beg for anything you’ll give her. But you’re stuck.” He laughs. “The only way she’ll feel better is if she gets fucked enough.” He laughs. He sits down in a chair, writing something down. “Ich werde dich töten.” König seethes. Looking up at him through his mask. “What was that big guy? Hm?” He laughs. He stands up once more. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. How about we get rid of the ridiculous costumes, show your real faces!” He claps his hands together. He starts with König, pulling off his hood. He glares up at him. Next was Ghost, he tugs his balaclava off. Ghost sends him a death stare. Next was Keegan, who had a smile on his face. “What are you smiling at?” He crouches down. “Just think your head is going to look perfect on a stick.” He spits in his face. He growls. “Whatever. Pay close attention to your little girlfriend, she’s going to start begging soon enough.” He mumbles. “She’s actually really sexy, might give her a go before her heart explodes.” He grips his dick through his jeans and that’s when König tugs at the ropes, feeling them start to give away. You whimper out, shifting in your chair. “Yeah, there we go.” He chuckles, sitting back down. He goes back to writing something down, and you squirming on the chair doesn’t help the situation at all. You’re rubbing your thighs together, raising your hips. You’re rutting them down into the chair for any sort of relief. As the time goes on, the worse it gets. Pretty soon, all three men are trying to ignore the tightening in their pants, shifting uncomfortably, trying hard to get out of their restraints.
“Awe. Look at you.” The man smiles. “Soaking the chair.” He chuckles. He runs his fingertips up your thigh and you flinch. “Stop.” Ghost growls. “Nah, I think it’s time I take her for a test drive.” He smiles. König rips through the ropes, the man freezes when he hears the click of a gun.
“Turn around.” He growls. “Woah… take it easy big guy. I was only joking.”
“Ich habe einen Witz für dich.” He smiles. “What?” He asks. Just then, König pulls the trigger. He hits the man right between the eyes. He falls backward, blood pouring from his head. König cuts the ropes off of Ghost and motions for him to free Keegan. König rushes to get to you. “You okay?” He asks. “No-“ you shiver. He kneels down, freeing you from the chair. “I know, it’s hard. But you have to fight it.” Ghost mumbles. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?” He asks. You shake your head. “No.” You grit your teeth. “Where are your clothes?”
“I don’t know, it’s too hot anyways.” You pant. Your skin is hot to the touch. Keegan stands behind you, brushing your hair away from you to look at you. You’re completely clear aside from a tiny puncture mark from the dart. “The… the only way-“ you grit your teeth, closing your eyes. “The only way is to have sex, I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.” You whine. “I feel it too.” Keegan mutters. Ghost looks down. Agreeing silently. König nods his head. “So what do we do?” Keegan asks.
“We do what we have to.” Ghost mumbles. You nod your head.
The more aroused the three men get, the better they seem to smell. They’re attracting you so much. You bend over, crying out. “You okay?” Keegan kneels by you. “Can’t take it anymore.” You look up at him. Tears streaming from your eyes. “Cmon.” He mumbles, sliding his arm under the bend of your knees and your back. He lifts you up. “We’ve got to find a room or something. If we’re going to do this we have to start now.” Keegan mumbles. They nod. They quickly move through the building, Ghost first, König next, and than Keegan with you. They move in a line, just in case there’s more men they don’t know about. You whine into Keegan’s shoulder. Propping yourself up onto him. “Y/N- what are you doing?” He mumbles. “Need it- need it so bad Keegan.” You mewl. You grip onto him, wiggling out of his grasp so that you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist. You attack his neck with your teeth, grinding your hips into him.
“Shit- Y/N. We’re almost there. You have to stop-“ he grits his teeth, Ghost and König glance back at you, seeing you attacking Keegan. Your desperation has them aching.
“In here.” Ghost holds open the door, locking it behind you and propping a chair up on it just in case. It’s a bedroom, at last. “Ah- you’ve got to let go sweetheart.” Keegan groans. “No, please. I need it. Need it so bad.” You whine. Grinding your hips into him more. “I know, we’re going to help you. Just… for one second baby.” He breathes. You let go of him and he lowers you onto the bed. “Fuck..” he growls. Noticing the way you’ve soaked the front of him. The three men are standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you. Like you’re the finest meal they’ve ever laid their eyes on. Keegan is first to break, reaching for his belt. Your pupils are blown out as you watch his hands move to unbuckle it. The other two follow his movements. You bite your lip, body shivering at the thought of what’s about to happen. You can’t help yourself, reaching between your legs to stimulate the sensitive nub that awaits any kind of relief it can get. A mewl leaves your lips and you tilt your head back. “She’s going to have to get used to me, I’ll go last.” König nods. They all silently agree. He’s right, he’s the biggest of the three. After admiring the way you touch yourself, they can’t anymore.
Keegan reaches out, grasping your hips and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Poor girl. Just soaking..” he breathes. He rubs the tip of his cock over your aching hole, a whine leaving your lips as you raise your hips into him. He moves his hips forward, the tip of his cock pushing through your wet folds. You want to cry when he fills you up. The relief you feel is incredible. You can feel more tears welling up in your eyes as he starts to thrust himself inside of you.
The squelch from your wet pussy is the only thing they can hear besides your whines. You squirm around, the way he feels is almost too much. “Ah- you’re gripping me so tight.” He breathes. “Hold on.” Ghost mumbles. He lifts you up off of the bed, apologizing at the loss you feel from Keegan exiting you. You straddle him. “You wet enough from her?” He asks. Keegan nods his head. “Y-yeah. Fuck.” He groans. He’s never done anything like this before, nothing like he’s about to do. Ghost lines his cock up with your pussy, and you sink down onto him with a gasp. Clutching his shoulders. “There you go, now relax for Keegan alright?” You nod your head. You feel Keegan’s tip aligning with your ass. You’d be worried. If it weren’t for the drug, you’d be modest and shy away from what they’re doing. But as he fills your ass to the hilt with ease, the fullness you feel. You can’t even think straight anymore.
The pleasure you feel from them has you on cloud 9. Vision blurring, you can barely make a sound. Your lips are parted, eyes are blown wide as they start to move into you. A chuckle leaves Ghosts lips at your reaction to them.
“She’s feeling good.” He laughs. “Think so.” Keegan chuckles. You rest your head on Ghosts shoulder, turning to look at König. He’s pumping his cock quickly, he’s desperate too. You reach your hand out for him. He moves closer and you take him into your hand, pumping his cock. He gasps out, head tilting back. You can see them, all of them. More than just the color of their eyes. You can see their sharp jawlines, the small scars decorating their faces. You can see the curves of their lips, their stubble that needs to be shaved. You can see and feel all of them, and it’s too much. Your first orgasm is coming fast. Your thighs are shaking, your cheeks are flushed from the warmth moving through you. “I.. I’m so close.” You whimper. Your hand tightens around König and he hisses slightly. “Fuck.” He groans. You clutch Ghost hard with your other hand. “I-“ you freeze up. Body going rigid as you reach your first orgasm. You cry out, soaking Ghost’s thighs with your arousal. “Oh fuck.” He breathes, looking down. “Look at the mess you’ve made of me.” He chuckles. “Ah fuck- I’m gonna cum too!” Keegan pants. He grips your hips hard. Thrusting into you harder. He’s chasing after his high, using you to reach it.
He’s panting hard, moans getting more unsteady by the second. “Oh fuck!” He growls, teeth gritted as he cums. His thrusts are sharp and bruising as he rides out his high, stuttering to a stop against you. You feel full of him, turning to look at him. He grips your throat, kissing you hard as he slides himself from your ass. “Fuck-“ he breathes. He steps away from you for a second.
“I think she’s ready for you, König.” Ghost nods. Keegan takes a deep breath, relaxing back into a chair. “Does it feel like it’s worn off?” Ghost asks him. He nods his head. “Yeah. I think it’s only got her so worked up because she’s smaller than us.” He nods. “Probably, never thought about it like that.” You’re rocking your hips into him, desperate for more. “I’ll go make sure the rest is all clear.” Keegan finishes getting dressed. König replaces the chair on the door behind him before making his way back to you. Ghost slides you off of him and you mewl at the emptiness you feel. He chuckles at this, “Relax, just for a second darling.”
“Go to König.” He breathes. You nod your head, König lifts you up into him, swapping places with Ghost. He sits down, lining his cock up with your entrance. “I’m really big sweetheart, so don’t get too eager.” He breathes. “Schau mich an.” He raises your chin and you look him in the eyes. “Keep looking at me.” He presses his forehead to yours. You slowly sink down onto him, thighs shaking slightly. He’s big. You moan out, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you. Once he’s bottoming out in you, you can barely hold yourself up. Ghost has his cock nestled into your ass, like Keegan had. He was already so close. When they start thrusting, you can’t keep quiet. It’s so much, and König adds to it. Circling your clit gently. Sucking your nipples into his mouth. You being stimulated is what helps the l drug wear off. He’d do what he had to.
Ghost has a tight grip on your hips, his thrusts are getting sloppy. He hisses, feeling you tighten slightly around him. He’s right on the edge. He tilts your head back, tugging slightly on your hair. König has one of your nipples between his lips, sucking gently as he rubs your clit. Ghost kisses you hard, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. It’s by far the best he’s ever had. His body jerks hard as he finishes inside of your ass, pulling away from you completely. You moan at the loss of him, turning to look at him. “I’m going to go help Keegan.” He mumbles. He’s readjusting his cargo pants, buckling his belt. “Be safe.” You whimper. He nods. When he leaves this time, neither you or König are worried about the chair in front of the door. He lifts you up, turning around so that he can lay you on the bed. Smiling when you refuse to let go of him. “Relax, Ich gehe nirgendwohin.” He pushes your hips down into the bed, and looks at you. He’s not sure you’re ready for the force he’s about to use on you, but as desperate as you seem to be, he doesn’t think you’ll mind.
He starts at a fast pace, fucking into you hard. It only takes a few seconds and you’re nearly crying from how rough he is with you. His cock is big and you’ve never taken anything like the three of them ever before. You’ve got a death grip on the blankets beneath you, and you can’t stay quiet. He releases one hand, using it to rub circles into your sensitive nub once more, and that’s when you lose it. You’re sobbing when you finally cum again, raising your hips into him and flinching away from him when he continues his fast pace. “Doing so good for me. So ein gutes Mädchen.” He pants. He leans down to kiss you once more, his high is approaching too. The stimulation he feels is intense, you’re wrapped so tight around him, he just can’t take it anymore.
“Oh yes… yes so close.” He grips your hips hard as he slips over the edge, hips hammering into yours as he cums. You’re sure there will be bruises all over you. “Verdammt, so gut.” He cries. His thrusts halt, and he realizes he’s just filled you up with his cum. He sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He breathes. You look up at him. Eyes feeling heavy as the arousal finally begins to wear off. You send him a lazy smile. “Don’t be.” You breathe. He slides out of you, groaning as he does so. He takes a second, panting. He’s trying to catch his breath.
He helps you get cleaned up, making sure to clean your skin if the mix of arousal between the four of you.
He wraps you up in a clean blanket. Lifting you up and carrying you back into the room this had all begun. He’s looking around for your clothes but can’t seem to find them. “It’s all clear.” Keegan nods. König nods his head. He places you down in a chair for a moment, picking up his hood and returning it to cover his face. Ghost and Keegan doing the same. “I can’t find her clothes.” König sighs. “I’ve got them.” Keegan nods. He passes them to König and he thanks him. He unwraps the blanket you’re in, helping you get dressed. You’re exhausted and weak, eyes getting heavy as he helps you. “I’ve got a sample of the drug and some paperwork. That’s all we needed right?” Ghost asks. König nods his head. “Yes. All in all this was a successful mission.” He nods. “Jedoch, this stays between us.” He laughs. Ghost and Keegan can’t help but laugh, even you have a tired smile on your lips. “Yes sir.” Keegan laughs.
König ties your boots, and returns the blanket around you, lifting you up with ease. That was one good thing about the massive man, he was strong. “Let’s get to exfil. We all need to be checked out.” Ghost says. Everyone nods in agreement. You’ve finally fallen asleep and König can’t help but smile.
This was going to be a day to remember.
#call of duty mw2#soap mw2#cod mw2#ghost mw2#captain john price#price mw2#alejandro mw2#captain price#johnny soap mactavish#mw2 smut#ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost#ghost fanfiction#ghost cod#keegan x reader#call of duty keegan#keegan russ x reader#keegan p russ#keegan smut#keegan call of duty#könig call of duty#könig modern warfare#könig x reader#könig#könig x you#könig smut#könig cod
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so american ; CL16
pairing(s) ; charles leclerc x american!reader
summary ; in which a trip to monaco turns permenant because of one ferrari racing driver
warnings ; fast paced relationship, smau, google translated french (pls correct anything that’s wrong) & FLUFFF
note ; lol sorry i lowkey disappeared. anyways. here’s charles and leo (aka everyone’s fav duo)
instagram !
liked by friend1, charlesleclerc, and others
youruser leo & i might never leave 🥰🇲🇨
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friend1 monaco is so so beautiful
yourbff you can’t leave me here alone in the us
youruser but…
charles_leclerc im stealing her
yourbff you’ve know her for 3 weeks
charles_leclerc whats your point ??
friend2 the states miss you come home
friend3 leo has a new lap to sit in????
yourbff i feel cheated on
charles_leclerc i’ll make sure you don’t leave ☺️❤️
youruser having the best time of my life with you🫶
yourbff saying you’re not gonna let her leave is kinda creepy not gonna lie…
charles_leclerc you’re just jealous coz she doesn’t wanna go back to the us and wants to stay with me
friend4 you look so happy😁
instagram !
liked by fan1, fan2, and others
cl16updating recent pictures of charles with a puppy, fans who asked him about the dog say his name is leo and he is not charles dog but he is staying with him for a while!! we are also unsure who the girl in his car in the last picture is, if anyone has any idea please share her instagram @ with us!!!!!!!!
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fan1 omg he’s not his dog??? i’m devastated now i wanted leo paddock appearances
fan2 idk maybe if you guys find her instagram @ don’t share it,, if charles wanted us to know about her he’d share with us
fan3 if she doesn’t want us to know about her maybe she shouldn’t hang out with the prince of monaco
fan4 she should be able to hang with whoever she wants. some of y’all are so weird
fan5 imma steal that dog
fan6 that means we probs won’t get leo in the paddock😭
fan7 maybe leo is the girls’ dog and she’s a friend of charles visiting him or something idk
imessages !
translation 1: ‘i’ll miss you so much’
translation 2: ‘we can be crazy together, my love’
twitter !
instsgram !
youruser added to the story!
charles_leclerc added to his close friends story!
charles_leclerc replied to your story
↳ you always do baby
↳ god you’re so cheesy
↳ i hate you
↳ can we go back home i miss leo
↳ charlie babe leo will be fine by himself for 3 hours
↳ i know i know
↳ i just love him so much
you replied to charles_leclerc’s story
↳ CHARLIE DELETE
↳ THE DOGS ARE OUT😭😭😭
↳ LEO GOT OUT??????????????? WHERE IS HE ??? IS HE SAFE??? DID SOMEONE FIND HIM??:??;??/??
↳ omg baby no leo’s fine i’m sorry for worrying you
↳ why would you joke about that
↳ i think i nearly had a heart attack
↳ you’re more obsessed with leo than me
instagram !
liked by user1, user2, and others
f1wagupdates charles and his girlfriend (leo’s mum — we don’t know her name) this saturday. the owner of the first pic said that they were out for dinner with pascale, arthur, lorenzo, and their girlfriends.
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user1 she so beautiful oh my god
user2 where’s leo
user3 girl she doesn’t have to take him everywhere
user4 i think her name is y/n… my cousin in america said that she looks like someone she used to go to school with
user5 i looked through charles’ following and he follows a private account with that name @youruser
user6 ooo that could be her fs
user7 did she really leave leo alone.. she’s a bad owner wtf
user8 leo is a dog he’ll be ok by himself for a few hours omg you just want a reason to hate her go touch grass
twitter !
twitter !
instagram !
liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and others
charles_leclerc happy gorgeous amazing month ☺️❤️
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user1 CHARLES who is THAT
user2 Y/N CONTENT ON THE MAIN ‼️‼️‼️
carlossainz55 whipped
user3 omg is she playing his piano
user4 yes with her feet
youruser love love love you
charles_leclerc chérie💓💓
user4 anyone else think they’re moving REALLY quickly…. like i heard they’re living together already
user5 who CAREEESSSSS
user6 it’s none of our business
yourbff you’re all she talks about oh my GOD
charles_leclerc are you jealous
instagram !
liked by leclerc_pascale, yourbff, and others
youruser “too much, too soon” i’m living with him lol
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yourbff remember when we had conversations that weren’t about him
youruser wdym
yourbff i hate him
yourbff you’re OBSESSED with him
yourbff you guys are DISGUSTING
youruser you sound jealous
yourbff i AM. that little french driving man STOLE my best friend
charles_leclerc FRENCH????????
friend1 miss you 🫶🫶
joris__trouche ❤️
friend2 come visit soon we miss youuuu
friend3 you’re so so so gorgeous
charles_leclerc MON AMOURRR
charles_leclerc YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL I WANNA KISS YOUR FACE
yourbff can you get me a ticket to the miami gp so i can see my wife pls
charles_leclerc no you’re gonna try steal her back
yourbff @youruser ur boyfriend is being mean to me
youruser charlie i lost my miami paddock pass can you get me another one pls but like could you put it under the name y/bff/n y/bff/ln please, for no reason☺️
charles_leclerc okay baby💓💓
youruser stop it i love you so so much you’re so adorable😭
leclerc_pascale Leo ❤️
youruser he misses you 🥰
imessages !
my other works !
#charles leclerc#charles#leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charlesleclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#cl16 imagine#formula one#f1#formula 1#ferrari#x reader#olivia rodrigo#charles leclerc fluff#charles fluff#cl16 fluff#f1 imagine#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula one fluff#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#smau#charles leclerc smau#formula one smau#f1 smau#formula 1 smau#Spotify
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Not Lonely Anymore
summary: You hear your roommate Bucky Barnes moan your name while masturbating and it changes everything between you two.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 3K
warnings: 18+, dry jumping (brief), unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, choking, teasing, dirty talk, no mention of y/n.
A/N: Hello hello! I present you the last part of my Lonely Night series. I am so grateful for your interest in the first two parts. I tried to keep my motivation up and give these two perverts a satisfying ending. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. Your feedback would be much appreciated.
You don't have to read the first two parts to understand what's going on but if you want to, please check my blog/masterlist for A Lonely Night and Same Lonely Night.
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Daddy kink and choking is for you ✌️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
You can’t take your eyes off Bucky while you're processing what has just happened. Your eyes roam around his face and bare chest before falling on his shorts. His erection is pressed against the waistband, carefully hidden away from you but the wetness forming on the fabric betrays Bucky’s intentions. You can’t contain your smile, but Bucky doesn’t see it. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, and when your eyes meet, you realize he is worried and embarrassed. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something in order to end this awkward silence, but you beat him to it.
“Did you just say my name?” It comes out so calm, you even surprise yourself.
You know he did. You heard it with your own ears loud and clear. That’s why you dropped your glass after all. But it was that shocking to you. That unbelievable! So you just want him to confirm it. To make it real and assure you that really happened. Maybe then you will be able to believe it.
“I- I can explain.” You notice the cold sweat forming on his forehead.
He seems like a scared kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t do. And it’s probably because he thinks he might lose you. You would feel the same way if he was the one who caught you masturbating just an hour ago. God, that would be mortifying, but now that you are on the other side of the equation, all you feel is excitement.
The realization eventually sinks in: he wants you. He actually wants you. That gives you a level of confidence you never had before.
You take a step forward and close the distance. Your lips are on his before he can react. You wanted to do this for a long time, but you had been unsure if he would have wanted it or not. You have a clear answer now, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. It takes him a second to respond to you, but you don’t hesitate. You just keep kissing him and it wakes him up like he has been hibernating for a long time.
His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you closer. His fingers are digging into your hips like he’s trying to convince himself this is real, and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue gently slides into your mouth and that makes you moan for the first time. His lips, his tongue… He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of it. It makes you crave him even more, and you don’t know how that is even possible.
Suddenly you push him, hoping to get him back inside his bedroom, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just gives you a dazed look, trying to understand why you did that.
“Work with me. Just move back.” You sound impatient, and he finally understands what you are trying to do.
“Fine.” He raises both of his hands like he’s surrendering, with a smile on his face, then he takes a step back and lets you push him further inside the room. You continue until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls onto it after one final push.
“Is that what you wanted?” He sounds amused.
“Yeah.” You straddle him without missing a beat, getting comfortable on his lap while he pulls you in for another kiss.
This time it feels a little different. His hands are on your cheeks, holding you still while his tongue explores your mouth. It is the most passionate kiss you have ever had in your life. His erection is standing right there, between your legs and you can’t help yourself… You can’t stop that urge that’s slowly building up and why would you? You’re on his lap, finally doing this. There’s no need to stop yourself from doing what you want. So while he tastes you however he wants, you start to move your hips. After a couple of tries, you find the perfect spot and both of you moan nearly at the same.
He stops kissing you for a second just to take a breath, but he still holds your cheeks with his big hands and looks into your eyes. It’s like he’s afraid you might disappear. You have no plans of disappearing or stopping, though. You keep moving your hips and watching his eyes flutter every time you rub the right spot. It feels good even with the fabric between you two. Yet it’s not enough.
“We should get rid of your shorts.”
“And your panties.”
You raise yourself on your knees, just enough for him to push his shorts down, but you don't give him enough space to take them off completely.
“I don’t wanna use any protection. Do we have to?”
“Well, we don’t have to, but we might need to.” He’s not sure how fertile he is. It’s not like he tried it before, so it’s quite risky. All he knows is he has a lot more come than an average man and that’s a problem when it comes to using condoms. They are practically useless.
“I’m on the pill.” You quickly clarify. You only asked the question to see if he was comfortable with the idea or not.
“Then we definitely don’t need to.” Oh, he’s definitely comfortable. The way he just said it is enough.
He grabs his cock while you pull your panties aside without wasting any time, and you lower yourself onto him while balancing yourself with one arm on his shoulder.
“That impatient?” He taunts you, but he chokes on his words as soon as he feels your wetness. The head of his cock rests between your folds while you answer him:
“Are you not?” You sound relatively normal. Then you keep talking while taking him inch by inch. “Would you rather fuck your fist and fantasize about me?”
He wants to answer you. He wants to say something, but being balls deep inside you makes it harder to do so. He just lets out a low groan while grabbing your ass to ground himself.
You’re not so different from him. The way he stretches you pulls a pornographic moan out of you. You sit still for a second, trying to get used to this feeling. You can’t remember the last time you felt this full. It makes you shiver even without moving. You take your time and he just waits, patiently until you get used to the sensation. After a couple of seconds, you feel confident enough to move.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” There’s a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you don’t notice it because you are lost in the feeling of finally being so full. All of your senses are overwhelmed by it.
You aren’t sure if it’s going to hurt because he’s definitely the biggest you have ever had. So you move your hips slowly and test the waters. There’s something there. Some kind of discomfort. You can’t say you feel uncomfortable, you just need to get used to his size. So you keep moving because there’s this promise of pleasure hidden behind that discomfort. You can nearly taste it and it keeps you going. While trying to figure out the best way to move, you don’t realize Bucky is watching you, carefully. He’s trying to read your expression and see if you are okay. He’s ready to take up the reins or just stop if that’s what you need. His hands gently roam your body, discovering little details about your skin. Like how many moles you actually have.
“No rush. Take your time.” He sounds more like himself, much more confident than before.
You moan because of his words. His voice is deeper and it makes your blood rush. You start to move a little faster and notice how the discomfort slowly fades away. He notices that, too while grabbing your tits with both of his hands. One is colder than the other, and the contrast is dizzying. You lean into him, just to feel him a little bit more, and his grip on your tits tightens.
“God, so fucking pretty!”
Before you can say anything, his mouth is on your right nipple. You feel his tongue flicking over and over again while his other hand rests on the other breast. Then he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You grunt because of the mixed sensations. Just when you are about to protest, he lets out your nipple and moves on to the other one. He gives it the same treatment. A mix of licking, sucking, and biting until you can’t contain your movements. Your hips start to move so much faster, making both of you moan loudly.
“God, I wanted to do this for ages!” The words spill out from your lips without much of a thought.
“You did?” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there?
“Does this mean I am the daddy?”
His question catches you off guard, and you just freeze in the middle of the action.
“You… heard me.” It comes out more like a question rather than a statement.
“Why do you think I was masturbating?”
It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he's just said. He actually heard you. You never used his name, but it doesn’t change the fact that he witnessed something so private. Something you really wanted to hide from him, yet the idea of him hearing you also sets you on fire. Instead of submitting to the urge to get all shy, you decide to ask him what you actually want to know.
“You heard me and instead of making a move, you decided to fuck your fist?”
“What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and ask if I can replace your dildo?”
“Yeah. Sounds great to me.” You keep moving your hips fast while talking. “Or maybe you are too shy to take what you really want.”
“Shy?” He blinks a couple of times.
“You don’t seem shy but maybe you are. Maybe you are a submissive little boy who wants to just lay here and take whatever I give you.”
You watch his expression change into something so different. It’s not particularly dark, but it feels like it. Before you can say anything else, he just flips you over. Your mouth falls open when your back touches the bed. Instinctively, you try to wrap your legs around his torso, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pushes your knees back to your chest.
“What are you doing?” Your amazement is evident in your voice.
“Taking what I really want.” It takes a lot of effort to hide your smile. You can’t believe your taunting worked that quickly. “Tell me if it gets too much and I will stop.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
He waits for you to finish talking and then he starts to move. Your mouth falls open once again but this time, it’s not because you are surprised. It’s because you can’t believe how good it feels. It’s completely different than how it felt when you were on his lap. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, and his hands are still on your legs, pushing you further into the bed. You let out another sinful moan.
“Way better than I imagined.”
“Is it?” A smile lingers on his lips. “Feel free to be as loud as you want.”
“Do you want us to get kicked out of this apartment?” It takes every ounce of strength in you to form this sentence without stuttering. It’s so hard to talk like you aren’t getting railed.
“No, I just wanna hear you call me daddy.”
You can’t help but moan. Shit, he really heard everything. You feel so exposed, but somehow it doesn’t bother you. Is he actually into this? Who could’ve guessed?
“If you want that, you gotta work harder than this.”
“Ask for it.”
“Harder, please.” He waits for daddy to come out of your mouth, but it doesn’t. You really meant what you just said, he needs to earn it.
So that’s exactly what he does. He starts to pound you, just the way you fantasized. He manages to touch every part inside you and fills up in a way that makes you wanna cry. Your moans get louder with each thrust.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Your ears start to buzz. You can feel that your orgasm is close.
“Talk to me, doll.”
He wants to hear you, and you don’t feel like holding back anymore.
“I’m-I’m so close, Bucky.”
“What do you need?” His question is instant. You feel that he’s ready to do whatever you want.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You take a deep breath just to be able to keep talking. “Just keep going. Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetic, but you can’t brush off the urge to beg him. He would like that, wouldn’t he? You did it while masturbating and he got a hard-on just because of you. “Please, please, please.”
Your words make him groan like he is struggling to contain his excitement.
“I really need it, daddy, please…”
“Fuck, baby.” You feel him losing control. His thrusts are sloppier but he notices that, too. His metal arm moves on your chest and rests there. You don’t know if he’s trying to keep you still or ground himself. Then he looks directly into your eyes, trying to see if that makes you uncomfortable or not. It definitely doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you need his hand on your neck, and you gently grab his metal hand and move it on your neck without breaking eye contact. You watch his eyes widen with the realization.
“Are you sure?” You nod in response, but it’s not good enough for him. “Words, baby. I need actual words.”
“Please.”
That does it. His fingers tighten around your neck, pressing right against your veins, careful not to crush your windpipe.
“Yess.” Your head is thrown back. This is exactly what you wanted.
The way he’s choking you snaps something inside you. It intensifies everything you are feeling at that moment. Your whole body suddenly starts to shake, and it surprises you. You have never reached an orgasm this quickly before.
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god, yes!” Your voice comes out hoarser than usual.
“Look at you.” He taps his fingers on your neck while he keeps moving. “My pretty baby. So good for me.”
You only moan in response, already too lost in the waves of your orgasm. It’s running through your whole body like electricity.
“Look at me! Look into my eyes.” He sounds so commanding and you listen to him even though it’s so hard to do it. He looks like he’s about to lose it, too.
“Come with me. P-please.”
“You want me to come, baby?” He asks in a way that makes you wanna cry out even more. Like he won’t come if that’s what you want. He will keep holding back until you say so but you don’t want that. You want him to enjoy this as much as you do.
“Please, daddy. Come with me.” He groans in response. You clearly see how your words affect him, especially calling him daddy. You can’t believe how much he’s into it.
He stops holding back and starts to move in a way that makes you scream. So you do that. You can’t contain the noises you make when he moves like this. You grip on his sheets, letting him ruin you for any other man.
“Fuck! Such pretty sounds… You like it that much, baby?”
“Yes, yes. So good, daddy.” You slur at the last part. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything when he makes you feel like this.
“Fuck, you take me so well.” You can actually hear that he’s close. “I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck.”
“Yess!” You have been waiting for this. You want it so badly. You wanna see him come. You want him to feel good, all because of you. You want to witness a part of him that he hides away from everyone else. It feels like owning a part of him. So private and primitive, but you don’t care. You need this.
He lets out the most guttural moan right before starting to come inside you. He doesn’t stop, just keeps the same pace, emptying himself inside you.
“Take it, baby. Take it! It’s all yours.” You know what he’s talking about. His come is already dripping out, yet he’s not done coming.
It looks like he lost his damn mind, but it’s the hottest thing you have ever witnessed in your life. You are so fascinated by him even though you are still coming yourself. That's why you force yourself to keep your eyes open and watch him while your high slowly fades away. Yet he keeps going. His hands are gripping on your tights, pulling you into him every time he moves. His come is dripping on your ass, to the sheets. It’s so messy but feels out of this world.
After a couple more thrusts, he collapses on top of you. His head rests on the crook of your neck, and you feel his heavy breathing on your skin. You don’t mind it, though. He doesn’t let his whole weight crush you. Always so thoughtful….
Your hands go to his hair, gently stroking it. That makes him move his head and look at you.
“We should’ve done this before.” That makes you wanna laugh, but instead, you just give him a huge smile.
“Yes, we should have. It was amazing.”
Suddenly he moves away from you, leaving you completely empty. It makes you whine instantly. You miss the fullness and the warmth of his cock already.
“Where are you going?” You give him a confused look while raising yourself on the bed. “Come back here.”
“Not was.” He kneels right next to the bed, in between your legs, and moves his head closer to your dripping core. “I’m not done with you, baby.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#sebastian stan#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#avengers smut#roommate!bucky barnes#my stories
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✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)
⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )
#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }
#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.
#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭
★ 〜 masterlist.
© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.
it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?
it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?
for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.
before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.
what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)
but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.
ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.
a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—
“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.
“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.
...so, that's who.
(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)
it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.
taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.
this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.
'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.
sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.
call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.
“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”
the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.
“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”
neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.
(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)
⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.
it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.
everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.
he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.
but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.
don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.
tick-tock! tick-tock!
the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.
“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.
and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”
the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”
“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.
“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.
but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.
wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.
(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)
⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.
it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.
they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.
trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!
he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.
he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.
how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.
maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.
will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).
it never gets old.
when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.
for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.
“lyney?”
right on cue.
your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.
“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.
you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.
your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!
“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.
“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.
who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”
his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.
“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.
“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.
with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.
“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”
there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.
“lynette!”
but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.
— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#lyney x reader#neuvillette x you#wriothesley x you#lyney x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact hcs#genshin impact x you#genshin imagines#seelestial.inks
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Overprotective Dad
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)
Warnings: google translate spanish..
Girl Dad Carlos series continues, enjoy!
Carlos, Charles and Pierre participated in the World Stars Football match. It was a charity football match and it was happening tonight so you and your now three year old daughter Bea decided to go with Carlos and cheer for him.
It was no secret that Carlos loved football and is an avid fan of Real Madrid, so the fact that his wife and daughter will be watching him play tonight made him all too excited.
"Están mis niñas listas?" Carlos asks entering Bea's room where the two of you were getting her ready. (Are my girls ready?)
"All done! Go show daddy what you're wearing." You say as you tighten the red ribbon on her tiny curly ponytail and put her down from your lap. Bea excitedly runs towards Carlos and spins around in front of him showing him the small grey Ferrari sweatshirt that had Sainz written in big red letters on the back and number 55 on the front in the right top corner of the sweatshirt.
"Wow, mi amor, eres hermosa." Carlos says picking her up in his arms and kissing her chubby cheek that was blushing. Bea was a truly girly little girl and she loved compliments and attention especially from Carlos. And Carlos being the best girl dad in the world loved spoiling her. "What does it say on your back?" He asks her.
"Sainz" You whisper to remind her.
"Sainz" And she repeats after you.
"Are you gonna cheer for papa tonight?"
"Yes!!" She screams clapping her hands.
"Did you show him you hair?" You ask stepping closer to them and fixing the ribbon on her hair.
"Let me see." She quickly turns her head and reaches for her ponytail for him to see. "Ayy, maravillosa!" (Gorgeous!)
You put on your long trench coat and high heel boots and Carlos took his backpack and Bea into his arms. Soon you were out the door on your way to the stadium. Since it was big event with a lot of famous athletes, there was a ton of reporters impatiently waiting for them to arrive.
As soon as you saw it, mild anxiety washed over you. You got used to it by now, but you didn't like them taking pictures of Bea. So far you have successfully kept your three-year-old out of the media eye. It's not that you were hiding her, but you didn't like them sharing pictures of her all over the internet.
Besides, as much as Bea is an extrovert and loves attention, she's still just a little kid who gets terrified of a crowd of strangers shouting in her face. And that's exactly what happened this time.
As soon as you got out of the car they spotted you and the camera flashes went off like crazy. You took a deep breath opening the back door of the car to get Bea out of her seat. Carlos stood behind you with the backpack in his hand and held the door of the car open.
"Come here, baby" You say unbuckling her belt as she stretched her arms towards you. Bea already noticed from the car that something was happening outside. They were calling for you shouting your names out loud and she was very confused about who these people are and how do they know her name.
You positioned her on your hip and tightly wrapped your arms around her. At first her big brown eyes widened watching all those people standing in your way as you started walking towards the stadium. Carlos had his arm around you as you walked close to him, but you were struggling because it was hard to see clearly from the flashes and in addition to all that, you were wearing high heel boots and holding your child.
"Mama.." You could hear Bea's heart pounding against your chest and it didn't take long for her to burst into tears. It all became too much for her.
"Baby, it's okay shh.." You tried, but it didn't help and you completely understood why. "Oh my God, I'm gonna trip and fall"
"Give me her" Carlos slung his backpack over his shoulder and stopped walking for a second to take her from your arms into his.
"Are you okay? Hold on to me." He asked you and you quickly gave him a nod. She hid her face into his neck and you held on to his arm as you started walking again.
You could feel Carlos slowly starting to fume with anger because they scared and made his little girl cry, and she was so excited to come here and watch her daddy play. You tightened your grip on him trying to calm him down, but once one of them tried to shove their camera into her face, Carlos was about to lose it. He was not having any of that.
"Do that one more time and I'll smash the fucking camera against your head you fucking piece of shit" He stopped in tracks, his brown eyes darkened. If he hadn't been holding Bea, he would have punched him for sure.
"Carlos, no please" You said pulling him away.
When you finally managed to make your way through the crowd and reach the inside of the stadium you ran into Charles.
"The Sainz family!" Charles yelled smiling, but he quickly noticed something was wrong.
"Just give us a second please." Carlos said to him as you two stood to the side to calm Bea down. "Bebe, it's okay, you're safe, daddy wouldn't let anything happen to you" He said softly wiping her tears away and placing a kiss on her cheek. After a few minutes of comforting, the tears dried up and the sweet smile returned to her face.
"Papi no nos dejes" She said quietly playing with the collar of his t-shirt. (Daddy, don't leave us)
"No bebe, tu y mami vendrán conmigo. Vas a apoyar a papá, sí?" Carlos said tickling her tummy making her laugh and nod in agreement. (No baby, you and mommy will come with me. You're going to cheer for dad, okay?)
"We'll be daddy's loudest cheerleaders, okay?" You said gently pinching her cheek.
"Y más hermosas" (and the most beautiful)
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz one shot#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#carlos sainz smut#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 blurb#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton
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i haven’t stopped thinking abt wrio like,,, bodyguard wrio,,, underground fighter wrio,,, hate sex wrio,,, god help me
cw. bodyguard wriothesley, overprotective, possessive & dom, fem! reader
bodyguard wriothesley who likes to leave you staggering on the edge of a spinning insanity when he intentionally addresses you as "sweetheart", "princess" or "my lady" whenever he follows your orders, and it really doesn't matter to him where the both of you would currently be— if, lets assume, a quick shopping spree around fontaine or something more to his own liking, such as having you pushed down on a bed by your hips, parting your legs with his knee as large hands easily slide and secure around your waist.
bodyguard wriothesley who makes your mouth fall open on a hard, broken gasp when he swiftly traps you in place right under his strong frame, spurring you into immediate action by a dirty comment such as, "you're so sensitive, my lady." was in fact, a deep sort of satisfaction that gets you to ease up and forget yourself for a second, or the obvious fact that you're currently fucking your own personal bodyguard and that it might not be the best out of all your ideas, yet it still feels so fucking fine when he does it.
and archons, does he know what to do to keep you spiraling into euphoric bliss.
bodyguard wriothesley who adores whenever you tumble over your little, pathetic mewls when he pushes his fat tip inside of you for the very first time this night, and he notices how you're tightening up a bit when he adds another inch and spits on your cunt to have you all wet and nice, deep drags penetrating your most delicious spots while you're still loose enough that wriothesley can rub over your pulsating walls splendidly, tasting the soft clench of a warm, sore pussy on his throbbing girth.
bodyguard wriothesley who hooks up a smile at you, pearly whites grabbing your attention, admiring just how unbelievably cute you were— his boss, his princess and he could spend his entire day fucking you just the way you wanted it, with his dripping dick shafting through your pussy, manhandling you while plunging his lips against your tits to attach his hungry mouth to your nipples.
and how good you were, ah what a sight, able to swallow his cock, despite its size, working your sopping insides into the vast shape of his length so you're all marked up for him, because do keep in mind for a second— he was the one protecting you, and he would lie to himself if he'd say he couldn't become a little too possessive every now and then, while watching out that no one would bother you, no guy talk to you and wriothesley loved taking care of your needs, in many more ways than an outside person would assume— whilst all the others who even dared to look your precious, enticing way?
they aren't even half as tall as him, half as strong as him or most importantly, half as good in bed as him— the man was confident that no other was able to make you scream and enjoy yourself just the way he did.
and you were aware of that, sometimes cursing yourself as to why you let it go on for so long and be that unprofessional— but then he's here to quickly make you regret nothing at all— with your mind hanging in the clouds, still blank and the loud blows of gluttonous moans and your sexes bumping against each other, that you'd never ever feel more protected by any other individual, only him, your hands swiftly finding flaming solace in his soft locks when you hide yourself in his warm neck, pressing frenzied smooches around his defined shoulder as wriothesley groans out deep, "fuck— princess!", sensing how you're about to lose yourself to a high.
©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact smut#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut
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