#you seem to have stumbled in on something
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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
“You’ve never what?”
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh.
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?”
Shit.
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click!
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah.
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl.
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER
…
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo
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cw: smut, fingering, blow jobs, choking, man handling, age gap relationships, afab!f!reader
Poor König, just wanted to court you right and proper. There was a significant age gap between the both of you - with him taking the lead. You were a real pretty thing, and he was in love. Helplessly so.
Call him old fashioned, but König wanted to "win your heart" the traditional way. Took you out on dates that he paid in full, showered you in flowers and jewelry, did his got damned best to be "charming". Safe to say he was desperate.
Yet you didn't seem to mind. Rather, you giggled at his bad jokes, even let him pull you into his lap, leaning into him as he mapped out your curves through your clothes. A dirty, delicious, man; one who thought you were the most innocent thing hes ever seen.
Come the time you both decide you were "ready" to take the next step. Didn't take you to a trashy hotel, or fuck you in his car like other men might've. König invited you to his home, cooked you a fresh dinner of something from his native country - a pleasant conversation with dim lighting. How fucking romantic.
In his mind, you were so compliant, so swooned by his love and nuturing nature toward you. Probably hoped it would own a few blissful moans this night, afterwards he'd tell you to quit your job and live with him while you were still cock drunk. But after dinner, when the conversation slowly stumbled into the bathroom and was discarded on the floor in the forms of clothes and underwear - well, it was safe to say you were anything but the innocent bird he thought to have nurtured.
Rather, you lead him to the bed, pushing him back to a seating on the bed. His hands tangled in your hair, groaning and grunting as you nipped and kissed all his favorite places. Neck, jaw, his muscles even; you were so fucking perversely thorough. It left him weak and malleable to your desires and sinful actions.
Couldn't even question you as you begged to suck his fat, weeping cock. Just nodded with a stupid, star struck expression in his eyes. His head bobbing backwards as you licked and greedily fit him inside your warm mouth. The hot muscle of your tongue swirling against the sensitive head of his cock, followed by the vibrating moans of your throat, it was all crashing down at him at once.
The moment he felt himself about to come to a seering hot climax, you pulled away, licking your precum smeared lips, your sticky fingers earning the same treatment afterwards.
"Mhh.. Choke me, please?"
You were so bold. So unbothered by your own words. König could help but use the remained of his breath to release a laugh. Kids these days, so fucking vulgar. Though, it wouldn't sop him from grabbing that pretty throat and lifting you back to his lap.
After all, the sweet folds of your pussy practically oozed prayers of attention. And König was not about to deny his angel. He'd have his thick fingers ramming into your cunt, spreading them from the inside while you whined and cried his name; almost helplessly orgasming from some choking and fingering alone. König would give you proper whore treatment if that's what you begged for.
#zombieplayground#zombieplaygrounds#konig call of duty#konig cod#konig mw2#konig x reader#könig#könig call of duty#könig cod#könig mw2#könig x reader#konig smut#cod konig
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Do you ever plan on continuing the Adoptive Son Au?
This wasn't just a mission anymore.
Dick lays perfectly still, staring up at Crowne's bedroom ceiling. Besides him, Crowne is found asleep, and his soft puffs of breath are the only sound to be heard in the room. As always, the other man is curled up facing the wall, one fist under his cheek and the other clutched to the warm set of blankets.
It's something Dick noticed the first night he slept over.
Awake Crowene took up so much space with his commanding aura, steadily leading his team into the future like a king upon a throne—as if he were larger than life.
Asleep, Crowne seemed to grow smaller, a shocking reminder that for all he's accomplished, he too was only eighteen like Dick.
His face softened, and the invisible weight that seemed to be resting on Crowne's shoulders vanished once he slumbered. It surprised Dick, the first time he watched him sleep, to see how gentle the man could be. How innocent he appeared.
It was a reminder of how inexperienced Crowne was regarding relationships.
The mission had gone on longer than he'd ever planned it to. Dick was worried about how far he was going to go with the honey pot aspect, even with his suggestive comments and more daring flirtations. None of his other missions have gotten so far, always stopping at a few cuddles and kisses.
Thankfully, Crowne hesitated to go further. He had agreed to the hotel room, leaving Drake with Nancy for the night, and as Dick was desperately trying to think of an escape as they climbed up to the room, Crowne had grown more and more angsty.
They had kissed against the door and stumbled their way to the bed with heated breaths and whispered moans, but when they actually landed on the hotel bed, Crowne had sprung away. He had burst into tears, shamefully admitting he wasn't ready.
Dick had been so grateful for the out as he gathered Crowne into his arms and promised to wait till the time was right. He would wait until the CEO was ready, wiping away tears and kissing his cheeks dry.
He gave himself more time by admitting he also didn't feel comfortable moving forward yet, and Crowne looked at him with such tenderness Dick forgot about the mission for only a minute.
Instead, the two somehow ended up chatting the night away, lying side by side, whispering to each other against the pillows. None of what they spoke about was useful for the mission, and yet he found himself holding the little facts about Crowne close to his heart anyway.
He learned about Crowne's insecurities, some of the bullying he endured as a kid, the loving parents he missed, and the sister he lost. He even spoke about his fear of failing Drake or the rest of the people at his company who depended on him, how sometimes that fear of failure would creep in and freeze him in place.
In turn, Dick found himself talking of the circus, whispering what he missed and what life was like before his parent's death.
He shared his role as team leader—though not what the team was—and how sometimes he felt like he was still attempting to find his place in everyone's lives. Shockingly, he even admitted that he feared Bruce would never see him as soon, hiding his tears in Crowne's neck as he pushed out the words.
He never opened up to anyone like that, which terrified him of how far he may have lost himself within the lie.
They fell asleep together that night, curling around each other fully clothed, and it was far more intimate than anything he had ever done with anyone else.
The following day Dick had been able to spot love in Crowne's eyes whenever he looked at him. It made him sick. He tried to not make too much eye contact following this, for they had yet to find the missing children, and he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the devotion of a man he was playing for information.
Now, four months after they agreed to go slow, he slept on the right side of Crowne's bed, which had become his side, watching the snow gently fall outside the window of the new house Crowne had purchased. The mission had far surpassed the expected wait time, as Christmas was quickly approaching, and Crowne had made comments of spending it at Wayne mannor.
He had seen a shopping list with Bruce, Jason, Damian, and even Alfred's names on Crowne's desk, and a couple of gift ideas were written next to them. Because he knew that to Dick, they were his family, and he wanted to make a good impression on them.
The mission had begun in spring, but Dick couldn't find a way to untangle himself from Crowne. He had been heavily involved in the gym Crowne was setting up with Drake, seeing that he adored possibly being a gymnastics teacher more than he ever planned.
Bruce occasionally commented that he shouldn't let himself be swept away by the lie.
He knew the truth.
This domestic bliss he was spending with Crowne was an illusion. It was bound to burst the day they found what they were looking for, but by the gods, Dick honestly thought they were wrong.
They had to be.
Crowne's mysterious rise to power, extortionary science, brilliant business mind, and unexplained funds all pointed to darker, evil intentions.
But Danny? The man's eyes soften by children's laughter. He made silly puns when he wanted to cheer up Dick. He curled around Dick, holding him through nightmares and never asking what they were about.
Danny stepped up for Tim Drake and gave him a home when all signs clearly pointed to the Drakes neglecting their son. Danny was the one who anonymously paid off medical debt, asking nothing in return, not even acknowledgment. Danny was the one who could name all the stars in the sky, yet looked sad when staring upwards.
Danny was the one Dick was in love with, but Danny was also Crowne, and the Bats were gunning to lock him up for the rest of his life.
It tore him to pieces, but Dick pushed himself out of the warm bed. He patted his way to the boxes that still needed to be unpacked. He was the one to convince Danny to buy a house outside the city, knowing the man wouldn't bother to pack appropriately.
This meant he would likely carelessly throw evidence into random boxes—the evidence he needed to finally put him away.
He looked over his shoulder to ensure the other was still sleeping before going through the items. He went through the first five without finding anything, angry at himself for feeling relief until he came across the last box.
Inside were notebooks.
Some date back to the first year Danny was adopted by the Crownes. There were systematic experiments and notes on the portal making, but the worst of all were the files.
Files of the street kids he had moved. With each page turned, Dick found profiles of the kids, where they were found, what they were going through, how they were taken, and where they were placed. There were even several phone numbers of social workers who helped him move the kids about.
A leger of the trafficking ring. All were written in Danny's handwriting. It was a lie, Dick knew, but it was still devastating to realize how evil the darkness within Crowne indeed was.
The very last thing in the box was an engraved ring with Richard Grason on the inside, sitting inside an elegant ring box.
Dick felt sick as he reached up to his earpiece pressing it three times. Bruce picked up with a soft greeting that quickly turned to worry when Dicked choked out through his tears.
"We got him."
#dcxdpdabbles#the adoptive son#Part 5#Angst#Dick and Danny were falling in love#They spent almost a full year togther#Danny wasn't going to propose until a year latter but he saw Dick as his forever#Now the Bats got what they wanted
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞
꧁ eddie x female reader
a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain
listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)
summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.
triggers: 18+ smut
author’s note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.
The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.
His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.
The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.
If you would have looked back at him you’d have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadn’t been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the window— he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.
Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.
The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.
Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.
He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.
The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.
Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you haven’t seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didn’t mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didn’t have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.
Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.
Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.
Please don’t stop, please please.
The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you weren’t interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.
Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.
You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.
“Pretty hot out today… need a lift?”
The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth you’d never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.
You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and you’d be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.
“Baby don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere,” his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so he’d get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.
Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.
His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambi’s colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.
When he spoke it was clear that his intentions weren’t to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.
“Hey, do you wanna see the West with me?”
It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy you’d never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.
The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.
He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.
You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.
Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if you’d known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?
Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.
His smile didn’t fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.
He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.
Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. “What?” he chirped, a little twist to his lips, “don’t believe in stuff like that?”
This bastard clearly didn’t know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, “honey, love’s never meant much to me, but I’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.”
After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasn’t real. But hell, you’d humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?
A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, “I’m Eddie.”
And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything he’d ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.
He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you weren’t sure about at first.
The roads were desolate, and you couldn’t imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing you’d ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.
But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.
That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.
That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, “you uhm,” he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark, “you don’t have to worry about using that with me… I’m not that kind of guy.”
His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadn’t said, showing you that he wasn’t lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasn’t long before you whisper, “okay.”
When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples you’d ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.
Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.
The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.
“Shit, ‘m sorry, how long did I sleep?” you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.
Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, “don’t apologize for sleeping when you’re tired,” he said, shrugging, “besides, you probably would’ve woken up if I crashed.”
A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, “where are we?”
“Still in Texas believe it or not,” he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, “I hoped we could’ve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but I’m starting to think that ain’t gonna happen.”
You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. “I can drive while you take a nap.”
“Nah,” he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, “not that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus… I need a shower.”
Taking a whore’s bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldn’t care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.
You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. “It’s really not a big deal, I promise I’m a good driver.”
The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed weren’t lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, “deodorant only lasts so long before we’ll have to ride with our heads outta the window.”
He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.
“C’mon,” he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. “We survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I would’ve done it already.”
“It’s not that,” you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, “I wasn’t walking because I wanted too…”
Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.
“Don’t worry about it,” he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasn’t a big deal that you’d be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didn’t change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, “seriously sweets, you’re doing me a favor keeping me company, ‘m not gonna make you pay for a trip you didn’t plan, okay?”
You sighed, and shook your head yes.
The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldn’t be bothered wondering how long they’d been spinning in the warmer.
His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time you’d seen just how tall he was.
He squints in the sun and cocks his head, “bet you a dollar the carpet is orange.”
Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.
Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.
Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.
“How’s the hotdog?” you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.
A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, “rubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.”
You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.
“Hotdogs for breakfast… don’t think I’ve ever had this before.” You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time he’d ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.
“Stick with me, we’ll have breakfast for dinner, too,” his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.
You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. “Do I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?”
Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and that’s about all you could ask for at this point.
Eddie’s eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, “mind if I shower ‘fore I fall asleep?”
“Not at all,” you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, “take all the time you need.”
He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.
Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, “you’re not gonna run away, are you?”
You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, “think you’re stuck with me, if that’s cool with you?”
His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he won’t be long, promising to save some hot water.
Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters “cool,” to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.
Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. “Never know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,” he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.
Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.
He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.
Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states you’d scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.
That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you haven’t talked about in years.
When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didn’t mind, he wanted to know more.
The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the table—ice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.
“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, “two eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.”
Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.
Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.
Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, “Nothing like home, huh?”
A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, “definitely not, the air is dry here.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burnt— probably microwaved— concoction, “it is, but that’s the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.”
He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadn’t noticed before and you ask, “you keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?”
A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, “in all the years I’ve been on the road, I never have, not until you,” he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, “guess I haven’t run out of luck just yet.”
You hide your own smile, itching your nose, “how long has it been?”
Eddie thinks for a minute, “well, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,” he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, “… shit,” he says with a smirk, “almost nine years now.”
He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.
But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.
“Do you ever miss it?”
He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, “Nah, I’ll go back someday, me and my girl.”
That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.
You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.
Not knowing that Eddie was also slowly losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter then the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.
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#eddie munson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie drabble#eddie blurb
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— midnight ventures ˚⁎⁺ levi ackerman x f!reader (18+ MDNI)
You shouldn’t have looked and he shouldn’t have been there.
But Fate can have a funny sense of humor. The punchline that night? Stumbling onto your naked Captain in a hot spring… and doing something about it.
content — Rated E - Canon universe, Snowed-in, Winter, Hot Springs, Power Dynamics, Smut, Orgasm Delay, Oral (f. receiving), Authority Kink, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Biting, Multiple Orgasms, Light dom/sub dynamics, Soft!Dom Levi (wc: 11.7k).
Thanks to my BETA @stellar-smth. Written for @sixpennydame following this prompt: "I can't get enough of you."
Crossposted on AO3.
The mountain is a lonely, cruelly cold place.
Up here, everything is covered by planes of white, endless valleys rolling and coming. Icicles cling onto winding branches, while roots are drowned in bitter cold. Even nature seems to be at a complete standstill here.
Getting lost here would be ill-advised.
And yet, here you are, stranded, with the last person you ever expected to be with.
Captain Levi Ackerman.
“That was our last one, sir,” you say as you lower the flare gun, securing it to the harness strapped to your wool jacket. Gray smoke, usually reserved to warn of the presence of abnormals, now towers above you. It was a last hope to signal someone to your location and unfortunately, no answer has come.
You are, in every sense of the word, lost.
"You grew up around here, didn't you?" comes Levi's voice, that his gravelly and magnetic tone that always makes you instantly zero-in on him. "Any of this look familiar?”
You meet his impassive stare, and you try to ignore the familiar flutters forming in the pit of your stomach.
“I did. But I’m sorry, sir, I don’t recognize these parts,” you answer evenly, glancing at the footprints in the snow. “Everything looks the same to me.”
“I see.”
You rub your hands over your covered arms, trying to create your own means of warmth. "My father used to say these mountains were a death trap come winter. I suppose there was some truth to his words.”
“A death trap.” Levi clicks his tongue. “A novelty in our lives, I’m sure.”
Your chuckle beneath your breath.
Somewhere to the north of here is a military outpost, the destination of your supply round. Unfortunately, as things stand now, you won't reach it on time. Perhaps if you had ODM gear or horses, you might have already reached it. But winter in the mountains renders both useless: the hooks don't secure properly because of the ice, and horses aren't trained to navigate such terrains.
Hence, you are doing everything by foot.
“It's going to be dark soon,” Levi points out in a monotone voice, as if this situation wasn’t a matter of life-and-death.
You stare at the darkening clouds over the horizon. "Yeah."
Levi kicks some snow with his boot, white particles clouding the air. “Let’s head back down, I saw a cabin on our way up.”
“Yes, sir.”
With his directives now laid out, you begin the walk down. Levi sets the pace, keeping a diligent speed that ensures your bodies stay warm and your minds stay sharp. For a while, that’s all there is to it. Nothing but the crunching of footsteps in snow and the wind howling across white nothing.
The silence gives you a moment to yourself, one where you're able to take in your surroundings, including the sight of your Captain next to you.
Like you, Levi’s appearance is marked by the cold. His eyes, red-rimmed; eyelashes, glistening white; his cheeks, flushed with a rosy hue; his hair, flowing and ebbing midnight.
It suits him, this look. All dressed in white, he looks beautiful.
Not exactly a surprise, you suppose. Your Captain could wear a rag and still look good.
It’s an objective, albeit unfortunate, truth. Your Captain is beautiful, magnetic, striking… and you happen to have a big, fat crush on him.
It’s not like it's a secret. You think everyone in the Corps knows at this point. The brats from the 104th love to tease you about it. So does Commander Hange, for that matter—somehow, you think it is no coincidence the two of you ended up paired for this mission.
Meddlers, they all are.
"Oi, focus on the road," Levi grumbles.
Your cheeks warm, feeling like your Captain caught you red handed with your daydreams, even if you know that, objectively speaking, there's no way he did (Levi is many things, but a mind reader isn't one of them. Thank the Walls for that.)
Despite knowing that, you can't help but stammer, "S-sir?"
"You're not focused on the road. You're going to slip and hurt yourself."
And he's right, of course. It is slippery. Dangerous, even.
But how exactly does your Captain even know you aren't focused on the path? He's not looking your way.
(Over the year, you've learned this hard truth: Levi always knows, somehow.)
A snow storm has picked up by the time the cabin comes into view. Relief expands in your chest; you were just starting to lose the feeling of your toes.
The shelter appears to be deserted. Out of courtesy, you knock several times, checking the perimeters for signs of life, but when it’s clear no one is inside, your Captain decides that survival precedes politeness.
He surprises you with a new skill: opening locked doors.
“Dare I ask when you learned to pick locks, s-sir?” you stutter as he uses the tools from his bag. His movements are nimble and practiced, like a well-oiled machine. “S-secret skill from the Underground?”
From his crouched position, your Captain shoots you a blank look. “You may not ask.”
With a click, the door swings open.
You enter, raising your oil lamp to illuminate the inside. A half-decorated living room with a dining table, a sofa, and a fireplace. There are additional rooms to the back.
"Nobody’s lived here for months,” you comment, sniveling.
“They intended to come back.” He bobs his head to the right. "There's fresh wood and supplies over there."
You hum in agreement, teeth chattering. “It’s-s common enough for folks beneath the mountains to have a second house up here. Maybe they plan on coming up come s-summer.”
Levi grunts out a sound, presumably not caring too much as to why the house is well-equipped, but glad that it is all the same. Either way, you're clearly trespassing on someone's property, and you hope that whoever this house belongs to won't mind soldiers occupying it for one night.
Knowing the Captain, they'll probably find it in a cleaner state than the one they left it in, anyway.
But before that, your Captain seems to have other plans.
“Before we do anything else, we need to take care of you,” he declares.
Your Captain’s gray eyes then narrow onto you, roving up and down. His attention makes you straighten in place, feeling uneasy to be in his spotlight. Levi closes the door with a swing of a leg. His stare never strays from his thorough inspection.
A shiver licks your spine. “S-sir?”
“You’re shaking like a leaf. Strip, now.”
Your stomach stupidly flips at Levi’s orders.
"You need to change into something dry," he adds in a rueful tone.
You chuckle nervously while your brain goes into overdrive.
... Shit.
This is going to be a long night, isn't it?
Trying to push aside all the ways you feel overwhelmed by Levi's presence (you are, after all, fucking cold), you begin to remove your ice-coated gloves. This, however, proves to be an exceptionally painful endeavor—you suck in a breath when you realize you can't completely bend your fingers. Oh, no. Why can’t you bend your fingers?
“Damn it, you’re like an icicle,” comes Levi’s sharp voice behind you. Before you can make sense of anything, you feel your Captain by your right side, seizing your hands to inspect them.
You wince.
Levi is right, of course. Your fingers feel as though they are frozen, though you know they’re not. You can still move them, just painfully.
Still, you’re not exactly feeling peachy right now. You’re visibly trembling and your balance is growing more wobbly. And why is your vision so hazy?
“Why didn’t you speak up earlier?” Levi scolds. He shrugs off his own gloves and scatters them to the floor. He grabs your hands into his own, rubbing to create friction.
You stare, watching his slender fingers—rough and calloused and yet, so gentle—encompass your own. It’s the first time he touches you like this, and even if there’s nothing romantic about the gesture, your heart somersaults all the same.
(Stress and romantic attraction cause such similar reactions, you note in passing.)
“I’m s-sorry, sir. I really didn’t realize I was feeling so cold,” you say.
“Do you have something dry to change into?"
You nod.
“Good. Go change while I get the fireplace going,” he tells you.
You do just that.
While Levi works on the chimney, you discover that the rest of the house consists of two bedrooms and a lavatory. You don’t waste time inspecting them; you quickly lock yourself in a room. The first layer to go is your coat, but everything else is eventually removed. You change into dry pants and a sweater retrieved from your bag. Then you lay out your belongings, as well as Levi’s scattered coat and gloves, on wooden chairs, placing them near the starting fire, hoping (praying) that they dry by tomorrow morning.
Levi’s just finished throwing several logs into the fire. He stands up to meet you, looking at you through a half-lidded stare.
Unlike you, your Captain's clothing is relatively dry; only his gray shirt sports wet patches, the fabric clinging to his chest. You try not to stare at his well-defined muscles for too long.
(Even if you really, really, really wish you could.)
The beginning of crackling amber hovers on one side of Levi’s face, creating sunken shadows on the opposite side.
“Looks like cleaning will need to wait. You’re trembling like a drowned rat,” he says.
You conceal a smile. “L-like the ones in the Underground, s-sir?”
“Yeah, and I’ve seen enough for a lifetime.” His eyes narrow to slithers. “Just… sit your ass down on the sofa. I’ll find blankets and make tea.” You stare at him blankly, which he seems to take as some kind of signal to press the urgency in his tone. “Fucking stay awake, got it?”
You give him a confused look, but soon catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the windows. Ah. You're not looking so well—your lips are chapped, and there's shadows plaguing your eyes.
Levi finds several blankets in a wardrobe. With your help, he moves the sofa from one side of the room to the next, positioning it right in front of the fire. Levi forces you to sit (“But sir, I can—” “Stop arguing and sit the fuck down.”), and soon, he layers covers over your shoulders.
The sofa shifts under his weight as he sits next to you.
“You alright?” he asks.
You nod, still groggy. You're still cold, but the tea is helping a little.
Still, you should really try to warm up now. You attempt to take a sip of your drink, but in your excitement, you forget the fact that fresh tea tends to be, in fact, piping hot.
It trickles down to a burning sensation down your throat. “Pah, I think I just burned my tongue.”
“Now I'm starting to think you take pleasure in inflicting pain on yourself.”
“N-no." You gulp nervously. "I just didn’t notice the tea was so hot.”
“It's tea."
"Yeah, well. I guess I'm still not thinking straight. It's just s-still so cold in here.”
You do your best to hug the cup of tea with both hands, still audibly shivering, while snuggling into the blankets Levi threw over you. In front of you, the hearth continues to warm, staining the room with a glow that's oddly comforting.
A log splinters.
Then, Levi’s voice barrels through: “Hand over the tea.”
You turn towards him.
Your Captain is fixing you with a severe frown. Without questioning his orders, you hand him the drink. You think he might add some lukewarm water to it to make it drinkable, but to your surprise, he places both cups on the cold floor close to the edge of the sofa.
A confused look draws on your face.
What now?
“Fucking come here already,” your Captain orders.
And he gestures with two fingers in his direction.
That’s when you realize what Levi’s offering. He’s… beckoning you closer.
He wants to warm you up.
You gape at him.
This isn't happening. Is it?
But apparently not interested in watching you mull this over, Levi doesn’t leave you time to consider his proposal. He yanks on the blankets draped over your shoulders, reeling you close. You heave as the back of your skull collides with his collarbone, and you readjust against the crook of his neck.
“S’ just for a moment,” he mumbles under his breath, arms settling by your side.
And who are you to contest that? He's your Captain, you can hardly disobey him (well, you know you could disobey this particular order, but it's too late for that now).
So you let him tuck you close, and you discover that Levi is warm, and you think how nice that feels after hours of walking in cold weather. In fact, Levi’s body rather reminds you of a furnace right now, burning at its strongest in winter. His embrace creates a little cocoon of body heat just for you; soon, all you can smell is him, the scent of tea leaves and cotton enveloping you into a lovely state of serenity.
(You always did love Levi's scent.)
With enough elements grounding you, you let your head roll back, pressing against his right shoulder blade, trying to ignore his steel muscles (that you can, admittedly, finally feel to some degree—and they are just as hard as you always imagined they would be).
“Fuck, you’re freezing.” Your Captain’s voice rumbles against your back, presumably feeling the cold sting of your cheek as you nestle closer.
In response, Levi’s hands slot over your forearms, something careful and hesitant about his touch. You hold your breath, feeling his fingers spread against your sweater. There, he begins to rub up and down, repeated motions that create tiny tingles down their path.
The added friction renders you speechless.
It was one thing to be so close to him before; now, your Captain is essentially stroking you. His attempts to create warmth spread like wildfire, and in an absence of coherent thoughts, you let the fire consume you.
Soon, even the fireplace growing in size doesn’t seem to phase you. It licks the cold air, spreading from all sides, but it is nothing compared to the burning sensations simmering across your neck, your cheeks, and down to your core. It’s like Levi’s touch is commanding it everywhere, this warmth, leaving you flustered and confused.
Then Levi’s fingers make contact with your bare wrist, and you jolt.
Because unlike the rest of his body, his hands are freezing.
“What… Captain! Your hands are—w-wha—” You let your voice trail, heart plummeting in your chest, when you come to a realization, a realization that makes you a little frustrated. “Hey! You were cold all along as well!”
A clicking sound resonates against the shell of your ear. “Stop yapping.”
You try to move to face him, but Levi grabs your wrists with an iron grip, keeping you locked against the expanse of his chest, making his order quite clear.
“Quit squirming and stay put,” he mutters.
“But, Captain, you gave me all the blankets,” you complain, for once foregoing your respect for him and letting your concern speak volumes instead. A decided frown settled between your brows. “What would I say to Hange if their best soldier died trying to save me?”
“I wasn't going to die."
"But what if you did?"
"Then I’m sure you’d have found a creative way to spin it.”
“You still shouldn’t have done that. I’m not worth Humanity’s Strongest.”
“Stop saying stupid shit and focus on staying warm.”
You sigh. Your Captain and his stubborn ways. He was never good at putting his needs on the line, and years of military service haven’t changed this fact.
Still, not finding the energy to argue back, you allow the conversation to die out.
It is only a minute later, as you try to relax back in your position that you notice that Levi’s breath has mellowed out as well. In fact, your Captain’s attempts at creating frictions have slowed in urgency. His pace is now languid; his fingers are wrapped around your shoulders while his thumbs slide up and down, up and down. Slow.
You imagine that the two of you rather look like two people lounging on a sofa after a long day's work.
Like lovers.
“Tea's ready,” comes Levi's husky voice, making you jump in your seat.
You swallow down all the feelings bubbling at the back of your throat—the ones begging and begging to be let out—keeping your face trained ahead.
“R-right. Um, thank you for that, Captain,” you say. "I feel all better now."
Breaking away from his embrace, you try to avoid his burning gaze. You grab both cups, handing him one without sparring him a glance.
Instead, you move to sit at the edge of your seat, far away from your Captain. Between the two of you, the covers bundle together, discarded.
“So, what do you think?” he asks.
You stare at your flustered reflection in the tea cup. "Mm?"
“Why the hell does it smell like old eggs in here?”
That takes you right out of it.
You finally look up at Levi, meeting his lidded stare. Old eggs?
“... Sorry?”
“The fucking stench,” he mutters, wrinkling his noise. “It reeks in here.”
And that’s when you realize that Levi is talking about the smell in the air, the scent that’s lingered everywhere since you entered the house, but you were too focused on everything else to notice.
An odor you know well enough.
“Oh,” you say dumbly, “that’s the smell of a hot spring.”
“What?”
You finish your cup of tea in one gulp, now just perfectly warm and drinkable, and place it back on the floor. “I think this house might have one.”
You swiftly get up, darting to the bedroom you changed in earlier.
And sure enough, as you pull the curtains open, you notice a familiar sight. The back gardens of the house, all dusted in white, are painted with steam and water.
A hot spring.
.... And you are, you realize, a complete idiot.
Why didn't you think of this before? You could have simply taken a dip to warm up.
“What’s that?” Levi’s monotone voice comes from behind. He’s close to you, hovering just behind your shoulders, but you do not turn around. You’re certain that if you do, that you will find him bathed by the moonlight and that you won’t be able to form a single coherent sentence.
“A natural body of water, sir. It’s what Commander Hange was talking about in their briefing for this mission. Hot springs are found all over these mountains..." You bite your lower lip. "I didn’t realize we were right next to a hot spring. I could have spared you all the effort in warming me up.”
“No thanks, I’ve no intentions in having us swim around in something that smells so foul,” he grumbles. “Besides, it’s not good to go from two extreme temperatures.”
You hum. “True enough.”
“It smells vile.”
“It’s the sulfur. It’s great for muscle tension.”
“Sounds dubious.”
“I promise, it’s true!”
Forgetting your own advice, you turn around to drive your point home, and you realize that Levi is close—that you could count his eyelashes, if you wanted. But you don’t, because normal soldiers don’t think about counting the eyelashes of their superior.
“W-When I was young," you stammer, "my parents sometimes brought me up to the mountains to swim in them. They’re perfectly safe.”
Levi makes a face. “I’ll pass. But I guess it’s good to know the stench isn’t coming from the house itself.”
You snort.
Levi’s eyes seem to soften, half-lidded as they were. And just as you suspected, the moonlight trickling in really does something to your Captain’s face, bathing in with a silver hue that brings out the blue in his eyes.
Don’t look at his lips, don’t look at his lips, don’t lips…
“Looks like titan steam,” the Captain suddenly comments, looking at the steam fogging the windows beyond your shoulders.
He takes a step back.
You let out a much-needed breath, one you didn’t realize you were holding all along. “Uh-huh. It does.”
You glance back towards the hot spring, noticing that the snowstorm is close to subsiding, a cloak of black draping the sky beyond.
“Well, I suppose we should get to work, now that we’re all warmed up, huh?” you suggest.
“Yeah. Let's get this dusty-old house spotless.”
That night, you can't fall asleep.
This in itself isn’t a rare occurrence—most Scouts have somewhat questionable sleeping habits. Between the world of titans and watching comrades die, there's plenty of reasons for soldiers to struggle with sleeping.
The problem is, at least tonight, the culprit isn’t insomnia.
It’s… something else.
Something that's lead your thoughts astray.
Maybe it's everything that happened with the Captain earlier, maybe it's the snowy setting that feels oddly romantic, maybe it's the cold that zapped your brain but... you keep on imagining what it’d be like to have Levi next to you, doing indescribable things to you. You imagine him turning on his pillow, taking his time to take in every line of your exposed skin. He’d unravel you with his gaze alone, you’re sure of it. Would he bestow the same intensity he reserves in training? Would his fingers hook around your limbs with the same ferocity? You think they might.
You think—
You groan, cutting your fantasies short. You and your damn fixation on Captain Levi—the one person who couldn’t possibly be less within your reach. This crush of yours must be a cruel joke from Maria, Rose, Sina… maybe all three of them combined.
More importantly, why is it all resurfacing now of all times? It's been fucking years that this one-sided crush of yours has been, just, there. In all this time, you've managed to reign in your emotions.
So why? Why won't your mind stop wandering into dangerous territories? Why can't you shut it down even now?
Whatever the reason may be, you need to find a solution to your... predicament. You suppose you could try to be quiet about it here, to bring yourself the release you desire, but you fear your Captain hearing you, given that he's sleeping in the room next to yours. You can’t imagine being caught in the act of pleasuring yourself.
No.
You need to find somewhere private.
Somewhere like…
Oh.
The hot springs.
Of course—why didn’t you think about it before?
At once, you shuffle to a seated position in your bed, glancing out of the windows of the bedroom. The weather has cleared up by now, freckles of delicate white weaving through the air. Just beyond it, the hot spring awaits.
Serene. Lovely. Inviting.
Just the kind of spot you've been dreaming of.
Sure, your Captain wasn’t too keen on the smell, but you can wash afterwards.
Yes, this will have to do.
With your grand master-plan now laid out, you quickly spring into action. You gather your belongings: a towel, boots, an oil lamp.
In the main room, the remains of the fireplace are still dim and warm. Levi is occupying the second bedroom, and his door is closed shut—just as you’d hoped. It’s well past midnight, he must be asleep.
You grin to yourself. So far, your plan is a resounding success.
Outside, the air hangs still. The blizzard's fury has long passed, leaving only delicate snowflakes that twirl gracefully through the air. You pause to savor the newfound peace, taking in the picturesque landscape: rolling hills blanketed in pristine white, majestic forests embracing the mountain's gorges.
And the hot springs.
Nestled nearby, the cabin's springs stretch impressively, their shape narrow and serpentine rather than wide. Smooth rocks jut out over the water's edges, with pines and shrubs clinging to them. Together with the rising steam, they weave a misty veil that softens your view of the night.
Shedding your clothes, you quickly step in.
And oh... the initial touch of warm water is everything you'd hoped for and more. It sends a delightful trail of goosebumps trailing across your body.
The hot spring is shallow enough for ease, yet deep enough to envelop you comfortably as you sit. As you wade deeper, the water laps gently just above your chest, soothing the day’s weariness from your muscles. You let out a contented sigh, a particular knot in your spine coming undone.
This is the respite you've craved these past hours, especially after today's strenuous hike. It's a pity, really, that your Captain was so against the hot springs. This might have done him some good.
You venture further in with a smile plastered on your face. The clear waters mirror the starlit sky above, inviting you to explore every tranquil corner of this secluded paradise.
It isn't until you're midway across the hot spring, shoulders dipped beneath the water, that a sense of unease begins to gnaw at you.
Light.
Movement.
Noise.
With the instincts of a trained Scout, you crouch into the water. Through the shrubs, you suddenly notice a pool of yellow light, too intense and artificial to be anything natural. Strange. It bears the distinct glow of the oil lamps used by the Survey Corps. More troubling still, there's a subtle sound of splashing water.
Your gaze flicks anxiously to where your clothes lie scattered, a distance away. You didn't bring a weapon with you. Should you attempt to go back?
Before you can think further on what to do next, your peripheral catches a glimpse of pale skin.
You freeze.
In the thickening steam, rising like delicate spirals into the chilly air, it’s hard to trust your eyes. This could easily be a hallucination.
But as the figure emerges, shoulders and back surfacing smoothly from the water, the reality sets in sharply.
It's him.
Captain Levi.
The man you’ve had a crush on for as long as you remember.
The man who you were just fantasizing about.
The man who’s currently naked a short distance away from you.
Oh.
Oh no.
This is bad.
Levi is clearly out for a swim. Apparently unaware of your presence, he pauses at the edge of the spring closest to a hill. He tilts his head back, hand brushing back wet hair. He looks up at the sky, oddly peaceful.
(The altitude is so high that it almost looks like your Captain could touch stars if he wanted to.)
But then your attention is drawn inexorably to the droplets cascading down his bare chest, and the full implications of your predicament crash over you.
Sure, water conceals Levi’s lower body, but his upper body leaves little left to the imagination. The curves of his shoulders, sloping down towards well-sculpted biceps. His chest, marked with scars and lines left by ODM use. His abs, well-defined and toned—a feat you know is only possible due to his diligent training ethic.
Already, warning bells ring in your brain.
What are you doing still standing here? By some miracle, Levi hasn’t noticed you. But with his perceptive senses, it won’t be long before he does.
And when that happens, you’re in trouble. Not only are you naked and gawking, but you also have no real reason to be here.
You could try to tell him you couldn't sleep. If anyone could understand, it might be Levi. The man rarely sleeps.
But you’re not entirely sure your Captain wouldn’t see right through your deception. He's sharp like that.
That can't happen. You can't admit to him the real reason you came out here: to touch yourself while thinking of him.
You need to leave. Now.
Which is why you carefully start to back away, eyes trained on him—praying he doesn't notice you.
Unfortunately, while you miraculously slipped past Levi’s attention the first time around, your luck has run out. His focus shifts, honed like a hawk zeroing in on its prey.
Then comes his voice, slicing through the quiet of the night. “Who’s there?”
The familiar timbre sends shivers down your spine and tightens the knot between your legs.
Panic sets in.
Desperate, you dive underwater, hoping to blend into the natural shroud provided by the spring.
But Levi isn’t called Humanity’s Strongest for nothing. With instincts sharper than a knife, you see the blurred outline of his pale body trudge through the water at an alarming speed.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Levi’s voice rumbles through the water, but the meaning of his words are drowned by the elements. Your lungs burn as you begin to swim away, the mingling bubbles and steam clouding around you, the sulfuric scent of the spring sharp in your nostrils.
You pump every ounce of strength in your frantic escape.
Then a strong hand clamps around your arm, and you're dragged upwards.
“Oi!”
Instinctively, your hand lashes out, grabbing hold as your body is yanked forward. You gasp, air filling your lungs, the cold biting at your wet skin.
Your eyes round when you realize what your hand has landed on: one of Levi’s biceps.
You glance up, eyes locking with your Captain's surprised face.
A choked sound escapes you.
“What...” He says your first name, a frown settling between his militant brows. There's a lull in the conversation, like he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing, but his barking tone soon replaces it. “What the hell are you doing?”
Moments later, his lips press together in a taut line, and his biting grip tightens. He pushes back so that you're pressed against the edge of the hot spring, where he lets you go.
You land with a splash.
At once, you attempt to cover yourself using your hands, dipping into the water so that you're almost entirely submerged. Levi looms over you, apparently not feeling discomfort from being naked before you. The water level arrives below his waist, and you can’t help but notice a trail of trimmed black hair that starts just above his navel.
You want to scream.
Your eyes fleet back up. His expression is inscrutable, but his eyes carry an intensity that you've only seen reserved for training sessions.
“You have five seconds to explain yourself,” Levi grumbles, magnetic and sharp.
“I—” you begin, only to close your mouth again.
You… what? You can’t tell Levi the truth. You would rather drown than admit to your lewd intentions.
But you also have to say something.
“—I didn’t realize you were in here,” you manage with some difficulty.
There. That's not a lie, is it? You wouldn't dare to come in here if you knew your Captain would be around.
Unfortunately, your answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him.
“And why aren’t you asleep?” he asks.
You bite the inside of your cheek, watching the steam envelop Levi’s torso. “I couldn’t sleep, sir.”
“We’ve got a long hike ahead of us tomorrow. You can’t be dead weight because you wanted to go on a midnight stroll.”
You hate this… this feeling that you are letting him down. It’s everything you strive to avoid when it comes to your Captain. You’re proud to be in his squad and you pride yourself on being the best soldier you can be.
“That won't happen, sir. I can carry my weight.” You try to sound resolute, calm and collected. You fear you may be failing. “And Captain… I find it a bit odd that you're saying all of this to me.”
“What?”
Walls. You’re treading dangerous territories.
You clear your throat, waving a hand in the air. “Didn't you say the water was unhygienic? That it reeked? That we should both go to sleep?”
"Get to the point."
"I just assumed..." you mumble, chewing at the inside of your cheeks.
"Oh, I see." Something flashes in his eyes. Torture. "You hoped you could just do as you please, that the curfew rules didn't apply to you. Hate to break off your fantasies, soldier, but that's not going to happen. I'm here and you're caught."
"Well, you also need sleep, so..." you attempt, dipping your chin away from him and into the water. Levi's eyes narrow. You clear your throat. “I’m just speaking out of concern.”
“Then don’t concern yourself.”
You grimace. You're really not doing too well with all of this, are you?
You need to turn the tide, somehow.
“I apologize, Captain. But I don’t think I’m in the wrong," you try to reason. "My track record speaks for itself: I’ve never faltered, even when running on fumes. You know I haven’t. I couldn’t sleep and this seemed like the best solution to reach that end. I wasn’t planning to stay here all night or to be a burden, sir; I just needed to clear my head before going to bed.”
You look at him again, trying to stand straighter for your words.
Levi's expression doesn't falter.
Then, he lets out a long exhale, half-turning away from you. “Look, I'm not your parent. Do as you please. But don’t come crying to me tomorrow if you're tired. You better be able to keep up. I expect nothing less of you.”
Your Captain must recognize that level-headed attitude he witnessed plenty of times out on expeditions, or he wouldn’t let you go down so easily.
Levi rubs his eyelids with the tips of his fingers. “And next time, pay better attention. There are all manners of perverts in this world. Even if this place seemed abandoned, you can never be too careful. It’s unlike you to be so careless.”
You chuckle nervously. If only Levi realized you’re the only degenerate lurking these waters.
“Right,” you answer. “Lucky it’s just you.”
As you say those words, Levi looks at you—really looks at you—and something shifts in his expression. His eyes move away from your face, casting his stern gaze over the rest of your body, as if seeing you for the first time.
His attention makes your breath stop.
“You should still be careful," he says in a low tone. "Men in the military are still men.”
You swallow loudly, a delicious sensation coiling at the bottom of your stomach. There’s something suggestive in Levi’s words, isn't there? You tell yourself that it’s just him showing his concern and that it means nothing beyond that.
“As I said, lucky it’s just you,” you repeat.
Then, Levi surprises you.
He takes a step forward, cornering you further to the edge of the spring. His stare glints like starlight.
Your heart leaps. What is he doing? Outside of training, Levi never approaches you like this.
You try to keep your cool at the sudden proximity. Knowing that just one peek down, and you’d see what lies between your Captain's legs. You briefly wonder what his cock looks like.
If it’s like the rest of him…
Stop.
You need to focus now—your Captain is speaking to you.
“And who’s saying I’m not the sort of man to take advantage of a situation like this one?”
Your breath hitches, unsure if you heard him correctly. His gray eyes linger on your bare shoulders, fixing it like his stare could pierce through them.
Is he... is he testing you?
Your eyes meet again. His pupils are dilated, yours are wide.
“I know you,” you hear yourself say, “you’re not that type of man.”
For a moment, neither of you speak. Snow continues to dust the air, melting into the warm water surrounding you both. A faint gust of wind wheezes from down the mountain.
“You have that much faith in me, do you?” Levi asks quietly.
Your eyes flit back up. Levi has dipped further down into the water. He looks... pensive, eyes fixing his rippled reflection.
The sight of him so close almost takes the air out of your lungs.
And you’re reminded of how handsome your Captain is.
In all the years you’ve known him, all you could do was admire him from a distance—trying to keep your feelings and attraction for him in check. But Levi has always been beautiful, even when you denied yourself the opportunity to think so.
Deep-set eyes that remind you of muted skies—the occasional spark of blue shining when the sun hits his face just right. A velvety undercut that you know he trims himself every other week, the rest of his shiny hair parted in the middle. Rosy lips that appear permanently pressed together—only you’ve seen it: on the rare occasions that your Captain allows himself a downtime to drink a cup of tea with his squad and friends… yeah, the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, and the world is graced with one of Levi’s rare smiles. It’s a sight that you’ve kept locked in your heart.
“Yes,” you whisper, “I do.”
Levi's eyes come smoldering back onto you. “Speak up.”
“I would follow you to the ends of the earth, Captain Levi.”
It's true.
You first agreed to join Levi’s squad because you’d seen him fly, seen the way he handled his ODM gear. You grew to respect him like no one else. You stayed because of the sort of leader Levi proved to be. He didn’t demand authority like the rest, but he exuded it all the same. He didn’t care to be Humanity’s Strongest, but he still garnered hope and made people believe in him.
“I mean it,” you add, “I’m devoted to you.”
Levi's face pinches. “Careful with your words. I don’t like thoughtless sheep.”
“That’s not what I mean. You know I’m not scared to question your orders if I disagree with them. I’m smart and I’m strong. But even so, you’re the person I followed when I joined the Scouts. I would do anything for you.”
His eyes do not blink. “Anything.”
“Anything.”
Levi swallows heavily, taking a step back.
“Don’t say shit like that," he mutters. "Anything is everything. Other people would abuse your willingness. You should be careful.”
A moment passes by. You lick your lips, already moistened by the fog. Suddenly, you recall the actual reason for being here. You’re hot, burning. Like if you don’t get the release you desire, you might just need to cool off in the snow somewhere.
It might be why you dare to say your next words.
“Do you want to abuse my willingness?” you ask.
Levi’s stare darts back to you. Before you can control it, you squeeze your thighs tightly together, finding the tension unbearable. Levi takes notice: his eyes burn up and down, mouth parted.
It's maybe Levi's stupor that makes you act next. You push yourself up on the balls of your feet, rising with an arm draped over your breasts. The water provides a somewhat decent cover over what lies below your waist, but it does nothing to stop runlets plowing down your exposed curves.
Levi’s goes still.
And you push through.
“I lied, Captain Levi,” you tell him.
His brows knit together.
“The truth is, I came out here because," you avert your gaze, "… because I needed relief.”
“Relief.”
“Yes, relief in the…," your cheeks grow warm, "physical sense, I mean.”
“You mean masturbation.”
“You’re putting it rather plainly, but sure,” you mumble. “I.. I’d still like that relief, sir.”
“Look, whatever depravity you’re up to does not concern—”
“With you. I'd like for it to be with you.”
Everything goes still after that.
Levi’s entire face is blank, as if he sucked in all his emotions. All you can hear is the light gust of wind, swallowed by the mountains.
“What..." Levi opens his mouth, then closes it shut again as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. The knot in his throat bobs in what you can only describe as the most painful seconds of your life. You swear your heartbeat must be loud enough for him to hear. "What you're suggesting. You realize that it’s against the rules.”
“I realize, sir,” you say.
“That I’m your Captain and you’re my subordinate?”
Dread settles at the bottom of your stomach. Yikes, you’re in for one of his lectures, aren’t you?
“Yes, Captain Levi.”
“That both of us could get in trouble if this gets out?”
... What?
Your eyes flit up.
Did you hear him correctly?
Levi assesses you. He takes a step forward and you shrivel back as he plants his arms on either side of your body, caging you in. He dips down into the water to come eye-level with you.
“Tell me,” he murmurs, stare never straying from yours.
You blink. Is your Captain seeking to understand your desires?
"S-sir?” you stutter.
“Tell me what you want, if you could have it,” he says.
Oh shit, he is. Your Captain is actually trying to understand what you want.
“Oh, um," you fumble with your words, heartbeat climbing up to your throat. Truthfully, you never expected to make it this far, so you feel unprepared. "Well, in my fantasies, my partner would… touch me, sir.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere. But I suppose it begins with a… kiss.”
Levi’s eyes flicker to your lips.
Oh, fuck.
"Show me."
Your eyes widen. "S-show you?"
"That's what I just said."
Now, normally, you'd be the type to overthink and overanalyze just about everything. So when your Captain says those words, beckons you closer, you stop thinking.
You do as he asks and you kiss him.
And you discover that his mouth is soft, like velvet on skin.
Then Levi leans into you—moving his lips over yours, cupping your cheeks with more vigor—and you realize that it’s truly happening. Your hands fall onto his chest bone and his heartbeat sparks under your fingertips. It's his heart. The heart he dedicated to the Survey Corps—it's yours, if only for a brief moment.
And reality crashes on you.
You’re kissing Levi Ackerman. Your Captain. Humanity's Strongest.
Holy shit.
Not wanting to waste this fleeting opportunity (because surely, this can't last), you slide your tongue further into the depths of his mouth. Levi lets out a hum of approval, and you taste him—taste the chamomile he drinks most evenings and the mint from his toothpaste.
When your eyes venture open, you find that your Captain’s steely gaze is already fixed on you, watching you through a half-lidded stare. You can see the clear blue ring around his silver irises.
It only makes you want him more.
"C-captain," you say through the kiss.
Levi breaks apart briefly. “Tell me.”
You take his hand and guide it to your chest.
“T-touch me here. Please.”
Levi acquiesces, gripping the bud of your nipple between two fingers and pinching, hard.
Pleasure ripples through your body, making you whimper in place.
At that moment, you can only imagine what you look like—flushed, pliant and pleading for more. You’ve never shown this side of yourself to him before; you wonder if it repulses him.
Wrong, utterly wrong. The opposite seems to be true, in fact; your Captain seems to delight himself with this facet you are revealing.
“Desperate, are we?” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, tone dripping with a husky sense of satisfaction.
Before you can answer to his teasing, his mouth moves over your neck, while his hands continue to caress your breasts. The contrast of temperatures is so stark—the hot spring so warm, his skin so cold—that it makes you audibly gasp.
Your hands slide up towards his nape, and you brush the brittle undercut and twist, tugging him closer.
That’s when you feel it… the hardness—his hardness, pressing against your plump flesh.
At the contact, the Captain groans against your throat, biting down without restraint. You whimper, attempting to push back, but Levi's teeth don't let go.
"Quit squirming," he mutters.
Your warm breath clouds the air. “C-captain, please.”
“Mm?”
"Please touch me. I can’t bear to wait anymore.”
In response, Levi slides his free hand to tug at your hair. He pulls on your locks, exposing the side of your neck for him to ravish, nibbling from the tip of your ear to your collarbone.
“Don't you know that all good things come to those who wait?” he says.
Vindictive that your Captain is depriving you of what you’ve asked, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. You roll your hips forward, grinding against him, a fleeting attempt to make him just as desperate at you are.
Levi hisses as your soft curves plow against his erection. “You little minx.”
He pulls you back to shoot you a glare. Dangerous move, his eyes convey. And yet, it also gives you a glimpse into his state and, oh... interesting. You aren’t the only one who’s flustered, you realize—rosiness dusts his cheeks and his pupils are wide-shot black.
Your lips quirk into a playful smile.
Levi shrugs with one arm, looking away. “Be patient, will you?” His voice is hoarse. “I’m not someone who does things half-way.”
You roll your eyes. “Uh-huh. Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
Levi lets out a grunt that’s so decidedly him.
Suddenly, Levi completely lets go and your body drops into the water. You frown. One of Levi's lids twitches.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Teaching you some patience. Wait here and stay put."
"But, you said—“
“—that's an order.”
You close your mouth, shivering at the commanding tone in his voice. You aren't sure how you'll be able to go back from this after tonight—listening to his orders on the battlefield is going to be a nightmare.
Nonetheless, you do as he says, watching as he swims offshore where the oil lamp is placed.
And the whole situation hits you like bricks.
Holy shit.
You just kissed Captain Levi. And you're about to do more with him.
Why exactly is it happening now, of all times, you wonder? Why is your Captain allowing this?
In all the years you’ve been working alongside the Captain, you always thought your crush had gone unnoticed, or if Levi knew, that he had ignored it altogether.
Your observations are cut short as Levi comes back, holding up his towel and his green cloak above the water's surface.
You raise a questioning brow.
“I’m not touching you in this water, natural spring or not.” Your Captain unfolds the towel as he places it neatly over the smooth edge of the hot spring that's snow-free, casting the cloak behind. He shifts his blank stare on you, and taps on the ground with one hand. “Sit.”
You gulp, self-conscious at the idea of exposing yourself like this. Sure, it’s nighttime, and sure, the steam obscures the air, but he’s demanding a level of vulnerability that you hardly give out.
Levi picks up on your hesitation in a flash of a moment, reading you like a book. “You can still back away from this, you know.”
“I… no. No, I want this.” And you do—the way your core pulsates even now should be a telltale sign of just how much you want this. “I really want this.”
“Then what? You’re never uncertain during expeditions.”
“That’s because I know my shit out there. It’s not that easy with you. This is scary.”
Levi scoffs. “You think I’m scarier than a titan?”
“Of course not. But I overthink.”
Levi traps your chin between two fingers, tilting your head so you’re forced to look at him. “Then don’t think.”
You falter, mouth parting. Levi skims a thumb over your lower lip. The sudden gentleness behind his words, combined with his actions, makes you falter.
“Okay,” you find yourself whispering back.
“Okay, what?”
You meet his stare head-on. His eyes are no longer a muted silver, but turning towards a stormy gray. They demand an answer.
And you have just the thing to give him.
“Please help me not to think, Captain.”
Levi lets out a long hum as he slides closer. There, he takes the time to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, all the while his hands create a path down your body, exploring for the first time.
“Is that what you want?” he asks in a low tone. “For me to help you stop thinking?”
“Y-yes." You swallow loudly. "You have complete control. Do whatever you want to me, just... get me there.”
In one movement, Levi plucks you off the ground, his hands gripping your ass as if you weighed nothing at all. You squirm in his grip, clutching his back for support as your wet flesh slides against his own. He then carefully places you onto the towel so that you're sitting on the edge of the hot spring, your calves dipping into the water. The rocks under you are smooth, and you now tower over him.
Levi takes a step back to admire you, his eyes roving over every facet of your body, tracing your curves with meticulous care.
It makes you squirm in place. “Captain…”
“Levi,” he answers without missing a beat, engrossed in admiring your body. He parts your legs as he anchors himself in between them, where he draws circles along your rib cage, thumb slotting along every dip.
“Huh?”
His silver eyes look up to you, a fire in them that wasn’t there before.
“We’re not here as soldiers, so. Just call me Levi,” he says.
One hand nestles along the flesh of your waist while you tremble in his arms. Levi angles your head sideways with his other palm, siphoning your neck with kisses before finding a sensitive spot that makes you gasp.
“Alright… ah, Levi,” you say with some difficulty. It feels strange to call your Captain so informally, but there’s something arousing about it too.
"And if I do anything that displeases you or that feels too much, just so."
"Say what?"
He pulls back for a moment. "I don't know, pick something."
"Anything?"
He nods.
You think about it for a moment when the idea hits you. "Okay... Green, red. Formation colors."
Levi scoffs. "Titan formations."
"You said to pick, so I picked. Still a soldier through and through, right?"
"Whatever you say."
Levi’s hand trails to your chest, moving to cup one of your breasts between his nimble digits. His thumbs toy with it while his tongue finds its place along the valley of your second breast.
His hot breath drifts against the tip of your hardened tit, “I'm gonna go down on you.”
Before you can answer, Levi flicks the bud of your nipples with his teeth, swirling his tongue in circles that sparks pleasure everywhere—leaving you to moan and hold onto his set of hair.
Your words tumble mid-breath. “Are you s-sure?”
Levi’s stare lock with yours, his lips still sealed to your breast. He pulls away with a pop, a thread of saliva connecting between his mouth and your nipple.
The sight makes you want to scream.
“Have I ever said anything I didn’t mean?” he asks.
A shiver runs down your spine.
“No… I guess not. I… fuck, okay, yes. Go down on me, Levi. Green, so fucking green.”
Levi takes a step back, using your name to usher you into execution. “On your back, then, and put my cloak on. You’re not catching a fucking cold from this.”
I don’t think I’ll be getting cold with what's ahead, you think to yourself.
Nonetheless, you comply with his orders. You slide his cloak over your shoulders and prop your elbows down. Before you can blink, Levi pulls you towards him by the grip of your thighs, causing your back to lie flush with the ground. You glance at him, bewildered.
Levi has wrapped his hands around the meat of your legs, parting them to have full access. There's a wild glint to his eyes, like what you have between your legs is making him lose himself. Before you can blink, Levi begins to heed kisses on the inner parts of your legs, his touch slow and treacherous. It makes your hips buck, twitching beneath him.
“Sensitive, are we?” Levi tuts, his warm breath tickling your skin.
Any clever answer you might have given him is snuffed out as his warm breath falls on your sex. His hot tongue dips into your folds, something almost wicked in the way he rams in. You jerk up, calves sliding out of the water to wrap themselves around his neck.
You shoot up to grab a fistful of his hair.
But Levi stops you in your tracks. He pulls back, gathering your wrists in one hand. “Stay put. You can look but you can’t touch.”
And with that, he flings your wrists to your stomach, clinging onto you as his other hand pins one leg down. Then, he relishes in the wetness between your legs, slowing down in a manner that’s oh so sensual.
That wicked little man.
“Captain,” you complain, trembling beneath his touch. You can’t take it anymore—not being able to move, being held down as he unravels you, and now he teases you with his tongue?
It’s too much and at the same, it's not enough.
In response, Levi doubles down on his efforts.
“S-s-shit,” you breathe out, your mind going into overdrive from being pinned like this.
You knew of Levi’s strength, of course. Everyone within the Walls knows about Humanity’s Strongest. You’ve even had the privilege to witness it firsthand on expeditions.
But seeing it used in his lovemaking, well… it's something else entirely.
“You fucking tease. You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?” you mutter.
His voice hums against your sex. “And what if I am?”
That’s when Levi hits your spot, tenderly sucking on your clit in a way that makes you heave. This time, you can’t help but release a louder moan, hips arching up to meet his lips.
But just as you're about to reach that bliss you've craved all along, Levi pulls away.
You're left cold. Aching.
You tilt your head to gape at him. Levi’s mouth glistens with your slickness, but it does nothing to quell down your frustration.
What the hell is he doing?
You’re about to mouth him off when his expression shifts, stormy eyes narrowing.
“Patience,” he grits out.
It’s painful, the way he just delayed your orgasm. In the absence of his touch, your core throbs, begging for some kind of release.
So despite him being your superior, you can’t help but let out disgruntled words, “I don’t like being delayed, sir.”
Levi scoffs as his hands travel back onto your dampened skin. “I always knew you’d get bossy in bed.”
Your brows raise, wondering if you heard him correctly. Does this mean your Captain has thought about you… in bed?
Before you can ask, Levi moves on, dipping back into the task at hand. He shoves your legs apart, pinning you in place with an iron grip. His other hand trails over your damp inner thigh, positioning one finger at the entrance of your vagina, a digit sliding in. You feel your walls clench around his finger, pleasure ebbing through you as he discovers that magic spot that makes your toes curl.
“Perfect fucking cunt,” Levi slurs against you, cheek pressed against your shaking leg as he glides his deft finger with steady movements, mouth nuzzling closer to your silky clit.
You whimper at his praises, hips bulking up to chase his tongue. You try to keep quiet, but the more your Captain learns where to hit your points of pleasure, the more you think you may not maintain this charade for very long.
You realize that the way he delayed your orgasm has made the buildup now so much more intense. Your muscles tense, like a spring about to let loose.
So the relief that comes from Levi’s mouth wrapping against your clit again brings tears in your eyes. Pleasure seeps in. You try to grind against him to chase it even faster, but Levi remains unwilling to allow you to assert your dominance here—he keeps you pinned, keeping complete control, like he said he would.
More—you need more.
“Please, Captain. Please, please, please.”
In response, Levi doubles down on his efforts. It's as if all he needed was to hear you plead to give you exactly what you want. His digit rams into you, the pad of his thumb moving to tease you while his tongue flicks your clit with increased fervency.
Your heart drums quicker than a horse’s canter.
“… shit, shit, shit,” you choke.
When you open your eyes again, you find that Levi’s face is locked on you already—his compact muscles tense, his usual steel-eyes now a smoky haze. If only you knew what this is doing to him. His mouth seals on your bundle of nerves with a groan, his digit curling to rub your g-spot, thrusting with well-timed movements.
And then, he hits the point you were begging to be touched all along, groaning into your folds…
Right.
There.
The coil splits and your climax flares.
Your mouth opens to release a silent scream, skull rolling back as tiny warm tingles swim through your body.
Holy hell.
Levi stays with you through the orgasm, riding the bliss with you. He takes in the sight of you coming undone for him—learning from it, committing it in his memory.
Legs shaking, you don’t even register Levi tending to you as you come down. He licks your wetness pulsating in his mouth, enraptured in the taste of it as he takes it all in. With meticulous dexterity, he slides his coated fingers into his mouth, watching you as he goes about it.
“Oh, f-fuck,” you stutter out.
In response, Levi only continues to pepper kisses over your trembling legs. A madman, you think.
After a moment, Levi’s touch slides away. The sound of water sloshing as he pushes himself out of the hot spring.
Your head lulls sideways to admire him.
Levi’s neck is flushed—whether from the stream or from going down on you, it’s hard to tell—but it’s about the most bewitching sight you’ve ever seen. He sinks to his knees, like a religious man kneels before the Three Goddesses, and your breath falters as you catch sight of his erection.
He’s hard, tip flushed red. A trail of black hair paves down from his navel to his erection, while the rest of his body glistens under the moonlight. Sinewy muscles and tendons, locked together—years of relentless training and surviving on display.
The sight of it makes it impossible to think.
“Captain Levi,” you say with some urgency.
“Mm?”
“I’m gonna need you inside me. Now.”
“Are you ordering me around?” There's slight derision in his voice, twisting your insides.
“Yes,” you lick your lip, eyes locking with his, “that’s right, I’m ordering you.”
Levi huffs, forearms flexing as he crawls towards you—slowly, like a predator does its prey. With his body still warm from the hot spring, it creates a fog around him, his pale skin gleaming like gossamer.
Levi's voice remains steady, eyes impassive, but there's a hint of something in his eyes that tells you he enjoys being spoken back to.
“Someone thinks highly of herself, ordering her Captain around,” he chastises.
“Said Captain has yet to say no.”
“And why would I refuse you?”
At that, your Captain captures your lips. Your savor the way his body molds into yours, tasting your muskiness on his tongue. A wonderful sensation overwhelms you then—knowing you allowed your body to succumb to his touches, knowing he wanted to taste you in this manner.
As he breaks away the kiss, you can't help but continue to ask for more.
“Sir…”
Levi tugs at your waist, sliding you back down with force. “What did I say about calling me by my name?”
He looms over you, his bangs dusting his face. Your lips twitch into a coy smile, sliding your fingers into his slick hair. It's so soft.
“And what if I want to call you by your title?” you ask.
“Oh, is that how it is?” Despite the neutral tone in his voice, there’s something dark in his stare, heightened by pink cheeks and red ears. He strokes the ball of your shoulder with his thumb. “You’re one of those people who gets off on authority, huh?”
You grip his arms, turning your head away. Levi rubs his cock over your clit, teasing you and spreading your wetness. You mewl.
“You're lucky I'm feeling generous,” Levi says in your ear. “You better use it well."
Your breath catches in your chest as the tip of his length enters you. His warm hands skim over the flesh of your body, letting you slowly adjust to him, cradling you.
“That will all depend on you, Captain Levi,” you manage to pant out, letting the l sound roll of your tongue.
He grates out your name. “So fucking mouthy.”
“Well, I learned from the best, sir.”
Levi’s stare locks onto you, gazing at you like he was in a trance. His Adam's apple bobs. He almost looks vulnerable for a split moment.
“You've watched me, have you?” he says in a low tone.
Your cheeks warm at the suggestion in Levi’s words, mouth parting to contest when you feel his forefinger run along your lower lash line. Your eyes meet his piercing gaze.
He leans close, mouth hovering close to yours.
“I've watched you too,” he confesses.
And then, Levi slams into you.
Your cry mixes in with Levi's groan. Reaching blindly for something to hold on to, wanting—needing—him to understand just what he’s doing to you, you settle on clawing at his back. Levi’s thrusts are treacherous—painfully slow at first, pounding with full intensity.
The way of a man trying to ruin you.
“Holy s-shit,” you breathe, puffs of white clouding the air.
Levi holds you close as his hips roll forward to settle on a cadence that matches your vices, his flushed cheeks pressing against yours. You hook your fingers, grinding into his touch—your mind edging towards complete absolution.
“F-fuck,” he mutters, voice decadent. "You're so. Perfect.”
His words cause something delicious to swirl within you.
Levi slings an arm around your back, the other hooking up one knee to position himself deeper, slipping out and back into your wanting heat. You watch as his lips press together like he were trying to contain back a moan, but it’s obscured by your vision blurring at the sensation of his length stretching you out.
With one traitorous jerk, your walls throb in pleasure, eyes brimming with tears as you stare at Levi’s pale skin and the snow mingling together. Your nails scratch his hips, leaving red marks on his soft, plush skin.
“Levi,” you plead.
Levi, what? You aren’t sure what you’re calling out to him for. You’re too forgone, too dizzy, to notice you used his first name, let alone find the words to finish that thought.
His back muscles go taut under your fingertips, his spine moving in accordion with the rolling of his hips.
More.
More.
More.
“Captain, please, please—.”
“Be patient,” he grits out. His tousled hair clings over his forehead, lips parting as your bodies merge into one. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
Suddenly, he pulls out of you and flips you over so that you’re on all four. He angles your waist up, one hand pinning your neck down, the other holding onto your hair, as he slides back in..
Then Levi moves down on you and bites your right shoulder—hard. Pleasures ripples through your body, feeling his mark on your skin.
"Color?" he asks, voice shaking.
"Ngh... green, so fucking green." You whimper, nails scratching at the soil. “Do it again."
And Levi only delivers, his bite turning to something strong enough to bruise as he thrusts into you.
You wonder what Levi looks like up there, gripping at your waist while the rest of your body curves face down. You wish you could frame a picture for yourself to stow away.
If you could see your Captain, you’d see that his eyes are trained on the sight of your naked body glistening with sweat. You’d catch him fixing his cock getting lost inside of you, your walls clamping around him. You’d see the way his eyes marvel at your curves—how your body blends with valleys of snow over the horizon. You'd see the blush spreading from his neck to his ears, burning the way you are.
A state of euphoria.
“F-f-fuck. I can't get enough of you,” you hear him confess.
Can’t get enough of you? Are you hearing him correctly? Since when does your Captain speak like that?
Still, his words seem to ignite something inside you, emboldened to see more of this side your Captain is revealing.
“Tell me,” you murmur, pleasuring building and building.
His answer doesn’t miss a beat, straightening up to pound into you harder. “You drive me crazy.”
Levi’s fingers dig into your flesh, something needy, something bruising, about his grip.
“Yeah? Then let me let you in on something, Levi… Captain, ah,” you mutter, eyes fluttering as he continues to fill you up. “The reason I came out here in the first place was because… ngh, I wanted to imagine your fingers touching me. Wanted to imagine it was you fingering me.”
“F-fuck,” Levi hisses.
He grips your hips with full-blooded vigor, siphoning into you with a quickened pace.
“Captain, I—”
But your words die out when three fingers find a place on your swollen clit. Your brain short-circuits.
Your orgasm splinters into the night.
You go boneless, sagging into pure bliss, while Levi continues to thrust into you. Feeling your walls clench so tightly, creaming his length, he follows soon after—the rushing heat of his climax answers your own, his pulsing cock engulfed by your heat.
And your brain? Your brain is numb.
For a moment, all the two of you can do is pant and attempt to regain your senses. One of Levi’s hand rests on the small of your back, while you slowly uncurl your fingers from the ground.
Eventually, Levi slides out of you. He uses the towel to help you clean up. You watch him go about it, mind still delirious, something almost coy about the way he handles the aftercare of your lovemaking.
When all is said and done, a comfortable silence fills the air.
It’s now well past twilight, and both of you only have a precious few hours before you’re back on the road.
Neither of you are particularly tired. You let your sore body slide back into the warm water with your Captain by your side. You watch the mountains slope down, elbows perked on the edge of the hot spring, basking in the utter peace that comes from this sort of silence.
You lean a cheek on your propped hand to watch him. A light breeze tousles Levi’s black hair, faint snow dusting the air. You count the scars twined on his torso, wondering about the story behind each one.
Maybe one day, your Captain might open up about each of them.
"Did it work?" Levi interrupts the trembling silence, watching as you draw circles over the smooth edge of the hot spring.
Your eyes circle around to meet his cloudy stare.
You raise a brow. "Did what work?"
"Did you stop thinking?"
You snort, recalling your pleading request. "Yeah. I stopped thinking. And... thank you, by the way."
Levi hums. There's another lull in the conversation, filled with comfortable silence.
“I guess I don’t need to tell you that this should remain between us,” he says.
That makes you roll your eyes. “Aw, you wound me, Captain. Here I was hoping to gossip with everyone about the way you like to eat people out.”
Levi shoots you an unimpressed look.
“I’m not stupid, Levi,” you add.
Levi clicks his tongue. “No, just too fucking ballsy. Never knew your mouth ran so wild.”
You smirk. “Well, sorry to say, sir, but you’ve not seen half of what my mouth can do.”
You swear a a rosy hue dusts the ridge of his nose. “You're a shameless thing, you know that?”
You laugh, tilting your head sideways. “I told you. I know what I want.”
“Clearly,” he remarks, eying you. “And you’ve wanted this for a while.”
Despite having just had his face buried between your legs, you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed at that comment and the confession it demands of you.
“Never said that,” you dismiss.
“No? What were your exact words? That you—”
“Don’t repeat what I said!” you hiss, glaring at him. “It was in the heat of the moment. You can’t hold it against me.”
Levi grunts in an amused way, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, unsure how he might use this knowledge. You didn't think about any of it before, but where do you go from here?
Levi gives you that answer seconds later. He raises a hand to your face, tugging a strand behind your ear and swirling his thumb over your jaw.
“Well, next time you dream of my fingers, just come to me,” he says simply.
There’s an intensity in his gray eyes that wasn’t there before.
You go still.
Next time?
Is that a promise?
His thumb presses over your neck, feeling you gulp against his fingertip. Your stomach contracts in anticipation.
Oh, it is a promise.
You could get used to this new side of your Captain.
And then Levi retreats, eyes never wavering from yours, and bobs his head towards the chalet.
“Now to the shower, we’re not reeking come morning.”
“But—”
“That’s an order, soldier.”
You sigh.
There’s the Captain you’ve grown to like so much.
— Masterlist / Join my taglist / Spotify Playlist that inspired this fic
Heart divider by saradika-graphics - the rest is by me ~
Taglist: @l3visthighs, @bejewelledd, @nube55, @thephantomtheory, @levilxvr, @halloweenmedic, @notgoodforlife, @sixpennydame, @youre-ackermine, @starrylevi, @loyal2rin, @levistealeaf, @queen0sharena, @levisecretgfblog, @bitchymanlet
#users on my taglist - sorry for tagging you all so late tumblr was bugging on me#levi fanfiction#levi x reader#levi ackerman#aot levi#levi x oc#levi x y/n#levi x you#attack on titan fanfiction#attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader#captain levi#ao3 fanfic#levi smut#levi ackerman smut#flo's fanfics#flo's oneshots#n.sfw
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Prompt from a Request (Alastor X FemReader) R+18
!!Minors DNI!!
Pairing- Alastor x Reader
Summary Reader is on their period where Alastor can't help but treat himself.
Word Count- 2K
~~~
Your first period in Hell was the worst, and they did not have birth control to help with the flow which you took religiously when you were alive, unfortunately you were cursed with heavy periods. Though at the time you did not know sinners still had periods. So, there you were sitting next to Angel at the bar nursing a drink when you laughed at something Husk said when the familiar feeling occurred between your legs. Immediately you were alarmed, NO, it can’t be!
Your face went blank void of all emotion, and you stood up sliding off the bar stool, letting the chair legs scrap on the floor. Without looking up at anyone your eyes fixed to the ground, you quickly waddled your way to your room with your hands behind you covering your backside, knowing the blood had already seeped through your leggings. You pull up a hand to reveal bloody fingers.
“No, no, no.” You whine getting closer to your room rounding the corner when you bump into something hard, stumbling backwards. You groan and look up at Alastor’s grinning face.
“My my, you seem to be in a hurry.’’ Alastor says smirking down at you, reaching out his arms he grabs your shoulders, steading you. You take a step back out of Alastor’s personal space since you knew he did not like anyone to touch him or be overly close, but surprisingly he steps closer, and did not release your shoulders.
Over the past couple of weeks staying at the hotel you made sure you did not do anything to upset Alastor, he was terrifying, and you always felt uneasy around him. His smile was unnerving as it was but when he stared, you just wanted to sink into the floor.
“I-… Yes, I need to handle something that is pressing.” You say talking with your hands to express more urgency. Suddenly Alastor snatches your hand examining your slick fingers. He leaned forward and pulled your hand to his face, taking a deep inhale, closing his eyes savoring the scent. You blush at the intimacy of the moment, rubbing your legs together uncomfortably. Alastor was smelling your blood from the most private part of your body; you thought cringing inwardly.
“Are you hurt I can only assume since the blood” his voice dangerously low when he said blood, you could barely hear him over the static that grew louder around both of you. He opened his eyes looking down at you with half lidded eyes like he was high off the scent of your blood. The intense way he was looking at you left you speechless, the desire behind his eyes sending a warm feeling pool in your groin. No, stop, he just wants your blood that’s kinda his thing, right?
“N-no, I am fine,” gulping from your throat going dry, “it’s more a personal matter.” You stumble over your words as he brings your hand closer, pressing them to his lips, before pulling them back slightly. Your heart rapidly starts to beat in your chest as you watch him lick his lip as soon as he licked the blood his eyes grew wide at the taste.
“Irresistible.” Alastor whispers bringing your hand to his lips before slowing sliding one of your fingers in his mouth. Your breath hitched at the sensation, sending tingles down your arm. You bite your lip to hold back a moan when his tongue swirled around your finger ever so lightly. Alastor lets out a groan, gripping your arm tightly slipping in another finger in. You take a step back in a daze, your back hits a wall, grateful for the support you lean your full weight against it. As revolting as this was your body betrayed you by being turned on by the mere thought of Alastor’s mouth on your skin.
In one swift movement Alastor pins you against the wall, slipping your fingers out of his mouth leaning in close enough to feel his breath on your lips, he rests a hand on your hip gently griping, while he slides one under your chin lifting it up.
“I need another taste, ma bichette*” he inhales sharply as you press your lips to his sliding your hands up his chest wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. He moans at your eagerness, deepening the kiss he slides his hand around your throat gently squeezing softly making you groan at the pressure. You break the kiss looking at Alastor through half lidded lust filled eyes, turning your head allowing more of your neck exposed.
“Then take it.’’ You whine. Alastor dips his head down lightly biting down, compelling you to inhale quickly, holding your breath waiting for the pain to start. Alastor shifts and slides a leg between yours, spreading them open till his thigh pressed to your mound, chuckling menacingly Alastor trails his nose up the length of your neck, nipping at your ear lobe.
“Oh, mon cheri, so willing to give yourself to me already.’’ He grinds his thigh against your heat. “Your neck isn’t the place I want to indulge in.” It takes you a moment to think through the fog that clouded your judgement, but you eventually understand what he meant, when the realization comes to you, your face instantly burns up.
“Al… I-I did not think you really cared for that type of thing.” You say groaning at the constant friction Alastor was making. You look down and notice a wet spot forming on his pants, you whisper. “You’re going to dirty your suit if you continue to do that.” You say, silently hoping he will continue, since it felt so good, you have not been touched for years prior to dying. Even though Alastor scared you at times you could not stop the way he was making you feel, trembling at his every touch.
“You’d be mistaken my dear, this is only an act for my entertainment.” Alastor laughs lightly but his eyes told you another story. They had turned to radio dials, which is when you noticed all the other strange things happening around you. The lights were flickering, and the air was thick with static pulsing around you, but most importantly Alastor’s frame was slightly larger than normal, and his antlers had grown towering over you. “You are just the toy I decided to play with.”
You stomach tighten when he finished speaking, the thought of him just using you for something only he would want was thrilling as much as the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. Being eaten out by him while on your period still grossed you out, but the question of pleasure was on the line so you caved.
“P-please be g-gentle with me.” You whimper, pushing down Alastor’s thigh away from your throbbing core, grabbing his hand you pull him the rest of the way to your room.
Before the door is even closed you feel Alastor’s hand on your lower back leading you to your bed, you try to make your way to the bathroom to clean up a bit but, you are stopped when Alastor’s hand snakes around your waist pulling you closer to his side.
“Alastor, I need to get a towel.’ You say shyly. “I bleed rather a lot and I don’t want to—.’’ Alastor laugh fills the room cutting you off.
“Oh dear, do relax. I am not going to let a single drop on your covers.” Your face burns wondering what you have gotten yourself into.
In no time you are lying on your back, while Alastor stands in front of you between your legs. He sheds his coat, neatly laying it across your bed, then proceeds to unbutton his cuff rolling his sleeves up just below his elbow, watching as his muscles flex under his skin. Your eyes trailed his every move never seeing Alastor this excited, head tilted, smiling coyly down at you. The dim light casts a shadow across his upper face making his eyes glow redder somehow, sending a thrill down your spine. Alastor kneels sliding his hands up your thighs stopping at the top of your stretchy leggings, curling his fingers under your waistband dragging his nails against the skin at your hips hard enough to leave thin trails of blood in their wake, making you shudder with pain and excitement.
“Lift your hips up.” Alastor commands, you raise your hips up slightly as he shimmies your pants and panties down past the curve of your ass. You lift your legs once the fabric bunches at your knees allowing him to slide the rest down, taking them off. Once bare from the waist down fully exposed to Alastor, his hands slide up your calf, lightly gripping your knees he slowly spreads your legs open reveling your drenched cunt on display. You bite your lip trying to focus on something other than Alastor and settled on a stain on the ceiling. Alastor did not miss your shyness and refusal to look at him. He shakes his head he could not have that now, could he?
“Look at me, doe.” he says sternly, planting soft trail of kisses down your inner thigh, slowly making his way down your leg to your center. His other hand was gripping your other thigh pushing your leg down into the bed, locking you into place. You felt his hot breath on your core before he licked the skin between your leg and your outer lips. The action makes you both groan, forcing your hips to jerk up at the sudden contact. “You’re so intoxicating.” He whispers before he starts to slide his tongue everywhere but the places you need to be touched. Your cunt clenches at the close calls aching for his tongue.
“Al-Alastor, stop t-teasing me.” you whimper barely able to contain your need for more. You runt your hips up trying to force his tongue to slip up and do what you wanted. You look down at his smirking up at you with a sly smile almost as if he was enjoying watching you squirm under his hold. He skims lightly up the length of your fold watching your reaction. You moan and arch your back clenching the covers in tight fists.
Alastor runs his smooth tongue over your clit making your hips jump, sending shivers of pleasure throughout your whole body. You feel him chuckle against your cunt before he starts to add pressure to your sensitive nub drawing light circles tantalizingly slow. You run your hand under your shirt lifting it up as you go, slipping your bra over your breasts, rolling your one of your nipples between your fingers.
“Such a sweet taste you have dear.” Alastor growls sliding his tongue down your slit before plunging into your core making you moan feeling heat pool at the base of your stomach. As he keeps feasting on the blood pouring out of you his tongue curled up and swiped across your sweet spot sending a puling sensation though out your body. How is his tongue so long?
“Al… please do that again.” As if on cue he curls his tongue up again and adds more pressure. After what seemed like eternity his intense suckling increased, making the coil in your core snap releasing a flow of cum and blood into Alastor’s mouth, making him grip your thigh, feverishly lapping up all your juices.
He pulls back looking at you through dazed eyes before his eyes were drawn to a single drop of blood slowly dripping out of your core, he swoops down and licks up your slick.
“Ah.” Alastor chuckles darkly. “Still so, so much more to give.” You moan as he continues to feast on your over sensitive cunt barely recovering from your orgasm.
~~~
*ma bichette~ my little doe
Taglist- @papas-ghoulette @ceafighter @ivebeenthearchersstuff @rapturenyx
A/N
I had a lot of fun writing this, but life got in the way :( I hope the ending didn't feel too rushed. I hope you like it.
Something personal! This is the playlist I listen to while writing. Music definitely affects how I write in a way! So enjoy!!! (Music taste isn’t the best so beware)
Playlist
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel radio demon#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor smut#alastor#period#r+18
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My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
========================
The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
#ley writes#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda maximommy#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#the scarlet witch x fem!reader#the scarlet witch#scarlet witch x you#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch
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Unwanted: Chapter 28, Unwanted - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, death
Word Count: 2.9k
Previously On...: Jade's running, Bucky's chasing, and you've had the shit beat out of you.
A/N: It's our Battle for Pride Rock, ya'll!
via GIPHY
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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After several long minutes of being manhandled through the forest, you heard a distant roar through the pine needles, and while you recognized the sound of Bucky’s voice, the absolute rage evident in his tone was completely foreign to you.
“CARTHAGE!” he bellowed, sending a group of birds, squawking in indignation, into the sky. You tried to focus, to determine how far away he was from you, but the pain in your body, in your head, was too disorienting for you to figure it out.
So, instead, you decided to offer him some metaphorical breadcrumbs to point the way to your location. “BUCKY!” you screamed, as loud as you could, trying to break free of Jade’s grasp so you could run toward the sound of his voice. “BUCKY! I’M HERE!”
You made a valiant effort, but Jade would always be stronger than you. Gripping you tighter, she began running with you, away from the direction of Bucky’s voice, but you kept shouting for him.
He screamed your name again, and you were relieved to hear he didn’t seem as far away now, closing in. His voice was shattered with desperation, but he was gaining on you. Despite the pain each time your body jolted, you purposefully stumbled, hoping to slow Jade’s progress, but she kept moving, kept dragging you even if your feet were not perched solidly on the ground.
You ran behind Jade until time had no real meaning, not knowing how far you’d traveled from the base, or where she intended your final destination to be. All you could do was take every opportunity you had to scream Bucky’s name and wait for him to call back to you, each time his voice coming from less distance than the time before.
Eventually, Jade came to a sudden halt, and shoved you down to the ground. You took a brief moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings. You’d reached a clearing in the woods, and behind you stood a steep drop leading to boulders scattered below. Jade had gotten herself trapped, and you knew she would become reckless, be truly dangerous, now that she was cornered.
You could hear Bucky now, running through the woods as his combat boots crushed twigs and pinecones underfoot. He was coming for you, but he’d be walking straight into danger, facing off against a wounded animal that had to know there was no real chance for her to escape, and that would make her desperate, a loose cannon.
Jade jerked you back up again, and you felt the cold press of a gun barrel against your temple as she held you in front of her. You held your breath, waiting for Bucky to burst through the treeline. Your entire body ached, from your swollen face, to your broken nose, to the scratches that covered your bare feet and body where branches and stones had cut into your skimpy dancer’s outfit. Blood was running down your legs from cuts too numerous to catalog.
Soon, the crashing sound of Bucky moving through the trees gave way as he threw himself into the clearing, guns raised in both hands as he pointed them in the direction of Jade’s head. She gripped you tighter and pressed her gun harder into your skin.
“Stop there, Jamie,” Carthage shouted before Bucky could come too close. You clocked his movements as he quickly assessed the situation: the gun to your head, your useless left arm, all the blood pouring from your nose and various injuries, but he did as she asked, stopping not far from where he’d exited the trees.
“You okay, doll?” he called to you, searching your eyes with desperation. The look on his face was devastating, the sheer helplessness on it as he took in your state. He was covered in blood, an avenging angel who wouldn’t have looked out of place in a nightmare, yet the sight of him made you feel like you were dreaming.
“Gotta say, I’ve been better, baby,” you replied, flinching as Jade squeezed your arm with more force than was necessary. She held a gun on you, for fuck’s sake– where did she think you were going to go?
Bucky nodded. “A gun to your head, and you got jokes. That’s my girl.” He offered you a small smile, then turned his focus to Jade. “Let her go, Carthage,” he said, his voice now low and menacing. “This is between you and me. She doesn’t need to be here for this.”
“She has everything to do with this, Jamie!” Jade cried, pulling you back against her chest. “This is all her fault! Everything would have been perfect if you could have just let her go!”
You watched as Bucky inched closer, his movements so slow they were barely noticeable. He’d raised both guns in the air, no longer pointing them at Jade, but not removing his fingers from the trigger. “Let’s talk about this, okay?” he asked her. “There’s got to be an understanding we can come to, you and me.”
“All I’ve ever wanted is you,” Jade sobbed, moving the arm not holding the gun up to wrap around your neck. “We’re the same, you know that, right? We were created by the same people, using the same serum. We belong together, Jamie! I was built to love you! And you’re never going to be able to see that until she’s gone for good.”
“Jade,” Bucky said slowly, “Hydra’s messed with your mind, they’ve brainwashed you. You don’t even know me. You only love what they made you think I was.”
“NO!” she shouted, moving backward and pulling you both toward the edge of the drop. “She’s the one who’s been brainwashing you! If it wasn’t for her, you’d love me, you’d want to be with me the same way I want to be with you! Once I kill her, once she’s finally out of the way, you’ll be able to see that. You’ll finally understand!”
“That’s not gonna happen, Vix,” Bucky said sadly. “I love Pocket more than I’ve ever loved anyone, anything, and that’s never gonna stop. I’m not gonna let you hurt her, and I’m sure as shit not going to let you kill her.”
“But you made love to me, Jamie!” Jade sobbed. “In Russia, we made love and it was so beautiful! You can’t pretend that didn’t happen! That it didn’t mean something to you! I know it did!”
“Jade,” Bucky shook his head at her, the look he gave her fully of pity, “the only reason I ever touched you was because I thought Pocket had been with Steve, that she had betrayed me, and I was so angry, I wanted to hurt her back.” His eyes moved to find yours. “I was a fucking fool for ever thinking she would have done that; she’s too good a person, and I don’t deserve her.” His eyes went back to Jade. “It’s the only reason. I didn’t want you. I never wanted you. Fuck, I had to pretend you were her just so I could get hard, so I could finish. I could have never finished just from being with you, Jade, because I don’t love you. And I never will.”
Bucky’s words brought tears to your eyes. You’d seen the video, you knew he was telling the truth. He’d been angry, and she’d used that anger to manipulate him, but he had never stopped thinking about you. Because he loved you, and he always had. You saw that so clearly now. And because he loved you, he was going to risk letting her get away.
“LIES!” Jade screeched, her voice so shrill you thought it might burst your eardrums. “I can make you love me! Once she’s dead, you’ll forget all about her. Hydra will erase her from your memory, and we can be happy!”
“Let her go,” Bucky pleaded. “Let her go and you and I can talk. We can come to an agreement.”
“No! She has to die, so you can be free, Jamie! So we can be together. She needs to die.”
“Bucky,” you sobbed, trying to keep yourself upright. “Bucky, it doesn’t matter what she does to me, you have to stop her. She can’t go free, and you can’t go back to Hydra! I’m not worth it. I… I never have been. I love you so much. And I always will. I never stopped. But you have to stop her. Pozhaluysta, lyubov' moya.” Please, my love.
“SHUT UP!” Jade shouted, hitting you on the back of the head with the butt of her gun. It wasn’t enough to knock you unconscious, but it knocked you off balance, rattling your already pounding skull. Bucky made a move to come closer, but the barrel of the gun was back to your temple in an instant, and he halted.
“I wish we’d had a chance to start over, baby,” you said to Bucky, tears streaming down your face. Jade was going to kill you. She was going to kill you, and you’d never hold Bucky again, never kiss him, never feel him inside of you, laugh with him over something incredibly stupid, ever again. Never see your family again. Never see Tony. Fuck. You’d never see Tony again. But it would be worth it. Your loss of life would be worth it if it kept Hydra from getting its hands back on Bucky, from ever hurting him again. You knew that once your life was no longer on the line, Bucky would be able to overpower Jade, to subdue her, send her to the Raft where garbage like her belonged. “I wish we had time to start everything fresh and build something new, something better,” you sobbed. “But we don’t. You have to let me go so you can stop her, Bucky. Please.” You choked on the final word, a desperate plea. He had to know it was for the best. He had to.
“No,” Bucky choked out. “No, I’m not going to let you get hurt again, doll. Not because of me. Never again.” He slowly and gently set his guns down on the ground in front of him.
“I can’t be with you if you kill her, Jade,” Bucky said, voice full of saddened resolve. “I’d never be able to see past it, and I’d… I’d never be able to love you if I knew you were a murderer.”
What the fuck was he doing? You wondered. You both already knew she was a murderer– you’d seen the same footage, for fucks’ sake!
“Bucky–” you began, but he continued, speaking over you.
“If you let her go, I’ll come with you. You can take me back to Hydra, and we… we can be together. I’ll let you love me, and I’ll learn to love you. But you have to let her live. If she dies, it will always come between us. I know you don’t want that… and… and neither do I. Don’t you want us to be happy, Vix?” He took another step toward her. “We can be happy, but you have to let Pocket live. Please.”
“I don’t fucking care about Hydra anymore!” Jade cried. “I stopped caring about what they wanted the minute I fell in love with you! I’m not going to let them have you, just like I’m not going to let her have you! You’re mine, Jamie!” She squeezed your throat tighter, and you began to find it difficult to breathe. “You’re mine, and I’m yours! You have to say it!”
Bucky closed his eyes, as though what he was about to say was going to physically pain him. “I’m yours, and you're mine, Vix. The way it’s supposed to be. The way we were made to be.” He opened his eyes and looked at you, and you could practically taste the sorrow in his gaze, the apology he was wordlessly begging you to accept.
“We’re gonna have such a beautiful life together, Jamie.” Jade’s voice took on a lighter, happier, yet infinitely more terrifying tone. “We’ll get a house, a dog. Have so many beautiful babies! We’ll be a happy family, just us.”
Bucky nodded slowly. “We can have all of that, Vix. Everything you want, and more, but you have to let Pocket go. Can you do that for me, honey?” He choked out the words as though it made him sick to say. “Can you show me that you’re a good person, that you don’t want to start our new life with blood on your hands? I don’t want that for you, or our future kids. Do you?”
You felt the hold Jade had on you loosening, her grip relaxing. “No,” she said before tossing you aside as if you were nothing. “If it’s not what you want, then I don’t want it, either.”
In an instant, Bucky was positioning himself so that he was between you and Carthage, and she wasted no time in throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. You watched in horror as he kissed her back, and it was like every nightmare you’d had over the last several months had come to life before your eyes.
“Bucky,” you begged, reaching for him.
He pulled his lips away from Jade. “I’m sorry, Pocket,” he said, without turning to look at you, “but Vix is my girl now. We’re going to be together.”
“Oh, Jamie! Do you promise?” Jade asked, her face awash in delight.
“I promise, honey,” he said, leaning down to kiss her again.
You thought you were going to be sick as you backed slowly away from the two of them. You knew that he was only doing this to save your life, but it didn’t make watching it hurt any less.
Bucky carefully tracked you with one open eye as he continued to kiss Jade. Once he seemed satisfied that you were far enough behind him, and that Jade was thoroughly distracted with her guard down, he grabbed her throat with his vibranium hand and began to squeeze.
Jade’s eyes bulged open as she began struggling for breath, swatting at Bucky’s hand with the gun she still held in her fist. But a super solider alone was no match for a super solider with vibranium, and Bucky continued to choke her.
“You think you can just hurt my girl and I’d let you walk away?” Bucky growled, any trace of softness gone from his voice. “You think you can lay a hand on her and I’ll let you fucking live?”
“You… promised…” she gasped with the little air she had left in her lungs, and the look she gave Bucky was almost heartbreaking in its sense of betrayal. Almost. She was still a cunt, after all.
“Yeah, well,” he began, tightening his fingers, “my promises don’t mean shit.”
With the last remaining ounces of her strength, Jade raised her gun and pointed it in your general direction. “If I…” she choked out, “can’t… have you… you… can’t have… her… either.”
Time distorted into slow motion as you watched Jade pull the trigger of the gun, saw the bullet race toward you and plunge into your abdomen with a force that knocked you backward. You gingerly touched your stomach, your hands coming away nearly black with blood.
“Buck?” you asked softly, before your knees buckled and you fell.
You heard Bucky scream, the sound full of rage and despair, followed by the sickening crack of bone breaking, and the thump of a body unceremoniously hitting the ground.
You lay there, blinking up into the impossibly blue sky. It was so bright, yet seemed to be growing dimmer by the second. Bucky’s face soon filled your vision, his eyes filled with tears, and you felt the pressure of his hands as they tried to staunch the bleeding of your gunshot wound.
“Pocket,” he cried, “baby. You gotta stay with me, okay? You gotta focus. I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Why was he so sad? You wondered. God, even when he was crying, he was still so pretty.
“Hey,” you said, reaching up to touch his face and leaving a bloody smear across his skin. “Don’t cry.”
You felt him slide his arms under you, lifting your body to him as he cradled you. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he wailed. You weren’t sure what he was apologizing for, but you didn’t want him to be sad. You never wanted him to be sad.
“Hey there… handsome soldier,” you wheezed. You coughed, and droplets of blood from your mouth speckled across Bucky’s face. “That a gun… in your pocket… or… you just… happy… to see me?” You tried to smile, just wanting to make him laugh, but you could feel blood run out of the corner of your lips. You were getting so cold.
In the distance, you could hear a roar, like the sound of a tornado drawing closer, coming to pick you up and carry you away to Oz.
“You’re dying in my arms and you got fucking jokes?” Bucky exhaled a terrified laugh. “You just gotta hold on a little while longer, love. The teams’ on their way. Can you hear the jet? They’re coming.”
But you couldn’t hear the jet. You could barely hear Bucky’s voice as darkness enveloped you. “I… I love you… Buckar–” you managed to breathe out, one last time, before everything went silent, and black.
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Meadow (Drabble)
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
My last fic here in a while. Please consider following me on AO3 💖❤️
Summary: Javier hears you singing to his newborn.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: Domestic, sugary fluff, Javi POV, babies!
Word count: 850
Meadow
Javier tries to be quiet as he returns to you, carrying a stuffed Eeyore in his hand while listening for the sound of Inés' unhappy hiccups. He calculates his steps on the ground to make sure not to step on a twig or a branch, the crackle of it sure to distress his newborn even more.
He finds that the tall grass dotted with wildflowers and the soft earth is forgiving of his feet, so much so that his presence goes completely unnoticed by you. He never knew that this spot existed, having always treated the road as nothing more but a road until you showed him that its surroundings were so much more. There’s a metaphor somewhere in that, something about him just passing through and you making him able to stop and take a look around.
The sun is warm on his exposed skin, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and you have convinced him to leave the jeans for a pair of comfortable slacks instead. He checks the time to see how long he has been gone and it’s nothing more than a few minutes, realizes that the sun is starting to fade from being at its highest point today.
As he draws nearer to the spot you chose, Inés’ cries have died down completely until they are not heard at all. Instead, it is the soft sound of your voice that drifts through the air to him. You are singing quietly to his daughter, a lullaby that he remembers having heard before in a distant memory of his own childhood.
A breeze rustles the leaves of the oak tree you sit beneath, its crown of leaves protecting you both from direct sunlight. As if forced by nature to relax, he hears the birds chirping too. This is peace and contentment, he thinks, and how wonderful it is to do nothing with the people that he loves the most.
When he finally spots you, he finds you sitting on the blanket you brought with your sweater tucked underneath your slightly bent knees. Inés is resting in your lap, cradled by your soft arms, and sleeping soundly with her tiny fingers curled into fists. You are so beautiful as you stare down into his daughter’s blissful face, your smile even warmer in the soft glow of the sun.
Occasionally, you run a thumb over the length of her nose but you never stop singing to her. The stuffed animal seems a waste of time now but if he hadn’t gotten it from the car, he would have never caught you like this.
How has he gotten so lucky, he wonders, to have such an incredible woman to be the witness of his life? He cannot believe how sentimental you have made him, his chest aching as he watches your beauty grow even further as it is enhanced by the nature around you. More than a decade in Colombia and he thought he would never feel anything again. How ridiculous a thought that is.
When he finally makes himself known again, bursting the bubble of quiet admiration he has been in, you turn your head when he kneels down beside you. You stop singing but Inés sleeps on.
Without a word, you notice Javier and then smile until it widens into a grin on your face that outshines the summer sunshine. He smiles back and places Eeyore on the ground in front of you, purposefully posing him to stand in the grass because you always hate when he is careless about stuffed toys.
“I hope he doesn’t mind getting left in the car,” he whispers as he makes sure Eeyore won’t tip over, “Sorry it took a bit.”
“It’s okay,” you say quietly, “You have made it up to him; grass is his favorite.”
“Papá! There are frogs here!” Suddenly, his four-year-old son emerges from somewhere in the tall grass, carrying a stick in his hand that he seems to be using as a sword. He grins widely as he approaches the three of you, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he walks quickly on the uneven ground and Javier holds out his hand in case he has to catch him.
“Careful, Muchacho (young man),” Javier chuckles, “You might scare them away if you trip.”
“I found the biggest frog ever!” Lucas brags and falls into his father’s embrace, throwing his arms around his neck, “I want to show you!”
Javier looks at you to silently ask if you need him. Lucas presses on, “Come on, Dad!”
Inés fusses a little at being woken up by the noises around her. You take the stuffed animal and wiggle it in the air in front of her. You start singing again. It is something about meadows and daisies, something about being warm and kept from harm.
“Go,” you stop briefly to urge him, “We’ll be here when you come back.”
And as Javier gets up from the ground and takes his son’s hand, he smiles because he knows that you will.
.
.
.
My last fic here in a while. Please consider following me on AO3 💖❤️
#scheduled#pedro pascal characters#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena imagine#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javi p#javi peña#javi pena#javier peña#javier pena fluff#javier pena one shot#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#javi pena x you#javi pena x reader#javi p x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#my writing#siggy talks#narcos fanfiction#narcos#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#husband!javi
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I know the König x secret admirer reader is not gonna be officially continued but I was wondering if you could maybe explore part of it😭 there’s a part that mentioned that König gets laid in the military and I was wondering how angsty it would be if reader found out?🤭
Yes of course! ^^ It would be angsty... and fluffy! These two are the silliest people who ever lived tbh 🩷🐥
König is young in this AU (around his early 20s) and wildly inexperienced compared to some of the other recruits his age.
His first time was with a girl who joined the army when König had been there for about 1.5 years already. Desperate as he was with hiding the fact that he’s still a virgin, he tumbled into bed with this lady after a night out at the bar. She thoroughly seduced him, and König’s instincts told him she was only looking for fun, but he went with her anyway because, well. Loneliness can kill you, you know?!
He tried to woo her a bit after that until it became quite clear that this woman was not planning to settle down anytime soon. If anything, she was looking for a new conquest – and it’s fine, totally fine, except that König had surrendered a tiny piece of his heart to her along with his dick... That’s just how he is, and it took him more than a few months to get over the fact that it was “just a shag” and he “shouldn’t take things so seriously”.
That’s also why he closed off from people again, decided to concentrate on work and training and gym – until our cute little angel stumbled into his life like the prettiest saving grace! König was a goner from the start because this girl's approach was very different, so gentle and sweet compared to grimy shot glasses and smudgy lipstick and raunchy jokes. It’s a given that he was a little shocked when she sent her that pic 🙄 reminding him of promiscuous women who are not looking for a soul but a body, but because he is what he is the first thing he did was crank things up a notch and send her a dick pic back…
Yes, he’s desperate, but he’s also an go hard or go home man and this time, König is relatively sure he’s dealing with a lovely, delicate soul. Someone who wouldn’t just leave him out in the cold after getting what she wants.
And everything is like a fairytale between these two until she finds out he’s not a virgin despite he seemed a bit… like one… (in this scenario I think reader is a virgin and she thought König was one too because of obvious reasons? lol) And it’s fine, totally fine for her as well, except that the image of König having the night of his life with some military babe is haunting her from dusk till dawn.
There’s bound to be some drama when she starts asking timidly whether she’s still there… Whether they see each other every day. If they talk to each other, if he trains with her, etc. What if they test rifles together, or go out again with the sniper crew and get drunk and König feels… a little lonely?
She knows he would never cheat on her, not in a million years, but knowing how much of a wet dog he is she can’t promise that she’ll be all calm and relaxed during weekends, knowing her boyfriend is out there, full of testosterone and heart, his heart somewhat susceptible to female influence… Maybe even good old seduction…
And what’s even worse is the jealousy, the envy.
What if she’s more badass than her? That doesn't take much... She must be fierce if she’s in the military, something completely different, a forbidden apple König might want to taste again. It’s maddening, and when she finally opens up about it to him, spitting it out one night when he asks what’s bugging his sweet angel, there’s a big fat silence that follows.
König can't even believe she has torn her heart to pieces over something like this, alone and upset and ashamed when she's a literal angel. He sits her nice and pretty in his lap and talks her ear off about how he has nothing against this woman, truly, but that she is nothing compared to his first (and hopefully last!) girlfriend. Their love could never be compared to what happened between him and that girl, these things can’t even be spoken together in the same sentence. If he’s completely honest, his first time was... disappointing. Awkward, humbling, a total drunken mess of which he remembers nothing except that the woman wasn’t completely present either and that he was ashamed that his first time had to be like this.
Honestly, he felt like he lost his virginity on the night when he came to see her. She’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, all he thinks about these days... It’s quite annoying, actually, because he’s supposed to concentrate on how the wind blows and that the ammo doesn’t get wet and that he’s properly concealed.
He could be lying in a ditch with dummy rounds whirling past him and all he could think about are her eyes and lips and giggling and tits and, and… that. How warm it is, how nice it is, how he would just want to curl himself next to her when he hops back to his bunk in the evening. Her smile is the last thing he sees before he dreams, her voice is what he hears. All the things she said, all those sweet, silly little things, chime in his ear before he sleeps.
And all the precious moments they’ve already spent together, the times he made love to her under the trees... There’s nothing like that in the whole world and if she thinks something else can top that she's even sillier than he thought. He could comb through all the continents and he would never find a girl like her.
So tell him again... Why would he go to a shot glass of saltwater when he has a jar of wild honey right here at home?
#lmao what könig doesn’t tell her probablyyy is that the lady is not interested in him either#she just hops from D to D so she barely remembers König even exists#he’s only a co-star in some stories she tells her friends#like “Ooh yeah that one guy had a horse cock but he fussed around with the condom so much I almost fell asleep haha”#“what was his name again? shit I can’t remember”#meanwhile our angel reader is ascending to the 7th plane with the help of the horse cock in question like “Köniii T^T”#always the funniest thing when a secret admirer gets jealous of his object of obsession who’s actually fucking enamored with their no 1 fan#König gets jettisoned to the sun everytime she so much as *looks* his way#like are you both completely utterly dense or were you just born this way…#<3 sillies
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How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.
IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.
TEHEHE YESSSS
Not edited btw :(
Weak spot
Including: Yuji and Yuta
Yuji
You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.
Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.
You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.
Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?
First you looked under the couch.
Then his desk draws.
And then in the book shelfs.
Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.
Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.
You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"
You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.
"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"
"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.
"What were you looking for?" He asked
"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"
"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.
(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)
Yuta
You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.
You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.
Man this sucks.
You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.
Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.
You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.
"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.
You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.
A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.
"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.
"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.
"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.
#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen megumi#yuji x reader#itadori x reader#okkotsu yuta#yuta x reader#jjk yuta#yuta fluff#yuji itadori x reader
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Jealousy, Jealousy | OP81
Lost & Found | OP81
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!
Masterlist
Oscar thrived on the energy you brought to the paddock during race weekends. Your mere presence seemed to anchor him amidst the whirlwind of anticipation and nerves that often accompanied such high-stakes events. Amidst the chaos of the paddock, your steady presence provided him with a sense of comfort and confidence, acting as a stabilising force in the midst of the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere.
Your support didn't just stop at being physically present; it extended to an unwavering encouragement that boosted his morale and mental fortitude. Knowing that you were there, cheering him on from the sidelines, fueled his determination to perform at his best. Your belief in him mirrored his own, serving as a constant reminder of his capabilities and potential.
But perhaps most significantly, your presence seemed to translate into tangible results on the track. Whenever you were there to celebrate with him, Oscar's performance seemed to reach new heights. It was as if your support had a direct correlation to his success, as if your belief in him propelled him forward, pushing him to push the boundaries of his own abilities.
As the weekend unfolded, Oscar found solace in your company, relishing every moment spent together, from leisurely strolls around the paddock to shared lunches and casual conversations while watching replays in the garage. Your presence brought him a sense of contentment, grounding him amidst the intensity of race weekends.
However, a shadow fell over his contentment when he noticed you chatting with Lando. The sight of you laughing at Lando's jokes, your hand resting casually on his arm, ignited a surge of jealousy within Oscar. He couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity as he observed the easy rapport between you and his teammate, the way Lando's eyes seemed to light up in response to your laughter.
In that moment, Oscar's contentment gave way to a gnawing sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling of being sidelined, of watching from the sidelines as you shared a connection with someone he considered a friend. The laughter that had once brought him joy now rang hollow in his ears, overshadowed by the discomfort of seeing you engage with another driver in such a familiar manner.
Later, as Oscar stumbled upon you engrossed in conversation with Pato, a surge of frustration and hurt bubbled up within him. The sight of you hanging onto Pato's every word, your gaze fixed attentively on him, felt like a blow to Oscar's ego. It seemed as though you were captivated by Pato's presence, absorbing his insights and perspectives with an eagerness that Oscar found difficult to stomach.
For Oscar, this encounter with Pato served as a painful reminder of his own perceived insignificance in your eyes. Throughout the day, he had watched as you effortlessly connected with various people in the paddock, never sparing a moment to seek him out or engage with him in the same way. It was as if he didn't even register on your radar, as if his presence didn't matter to you at all.
As Oscar observed you leaning in closely, preoccupied in conversation with a mechanic as he explained the intricate details of Oscar's car, a wave of possessiveness and protectiveness washed over him. Though outwardly composed, inwardly, Oscar's emotions roiled like a storm ready to break.
The sight of you showing interest in the workings of his car, sharing a moment of camaraderie with another man, ignited a primal instinct within Oscar to defend what he considered his territory. The mechanic's presence, while innocent and professional, suddenly felt like a threat to Oscar's sense of security and connection with you.
Behind his calm exterior, Oscar's mind raced with thoughts of competition and rivalry. He felt an overwhelming urge to assert his dominance, to remind everyone in the paddock that you were his, and his alone. The idea of anyone else encroaching on your attention filled him with a fierce determination to reclaim your focus, to ensure that you remained firmly by his side.
In that moment, Oscar's love for you transformed into a fierce, primal instinct to protect and possess. He would do anything to keep you close, to ensure that no other man could come between you. Though his actions might seem extreme to an outsider, for Oscar, it was a matter of preserving what he held most dear: his connection with you.
Despite the storm of emotions raging within him, Oscar knew better than to confront the situation in public. He understood the importance of maintaining a composed facade amidst the public eye, unwilling to air his grievances or reveal his insecurities in front of others. Instead, he made a silent vow to address the issue with you privately, where he could express his feelings without fear of judgement or scrutiny.
As the day wore on and the activities in the paddock continued, Oscar bided his time, keeping his emotions carefully in check. With each passing hour, his resolve to discuss the matter with you grew stronger, fueled by a mixture of frustration, hurt, and a deep-seated desire to salvage what he perceived as a strained connection between them.
It wasn't until you both returned to the privacy of the hotel that Oscar felt the weight of the day's events press upon him once more. As Oscar and you entered the hushed confines of the hotel lobby, the tension between them crackled like electricity in the air. Oscar's jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Finally, as the elevator doors closed behind them, sealing them in a cocoon of privacy, Oscar couldn't hold back any longer.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice taut with emotion. Your eyebrows furrowed, sensing the gravity of his tone.
“What's on your mind?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing sense of unease.
“You know damn well what's on my mind,” Oscar snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I saw you today, cozying up to Lando, Pato, and that mechanic. It felt like I was invisible to you, like you didn't even bother to look for me.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could respond, Oscar continued, his words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotion. “I can't stand seeing you with other guys, laughing and flirting like I'm not even here. I know I should trust you, but it's driving me insane.”
A flicker of hurt flashed across your face, mingling with empathy as you reached out to touch his arm gently.
“I was just being polite, Osc. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was flirting with them. I didn't realise it was affecting you like this," you said softly, your voice laced with sincerity. Oscar's shoulders sagged with relief at your understanding, but the fire in his eyes didn't dim.
“I just... I need you to know how much you mean to me,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I can't stand the thought of losing you.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m with you then, and not one of those stupid boys. Now I can just show you how much I love being yours,” You told him.
Tension hung in the air between them, but as you reached out to envelop him in a comforting embrace, Oscar felt a weight lift from his chest. A tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his gaze, a silent reassurance passing between you.
“I'm here, with you, completely and utterly yours,” you continued, your voice filled with conviction.
In that moment, as the weight of the day's tensions melted away, Oscar felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering love and devotion you offered him. With a renewed sense of purpose, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tender embrace.
Together, in the quiet sanctuary of the hotel room, you found solace in each other's arms, reaffirming the bond that held you together amidst the chaos of the racing world. And as you whispered words of love and reassurance into the night, Oscar knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you by his side, he could weather any storm. And, perhaps learn to be less jealous at times.
#oscar piastri#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula 1#mclaren#mclaren f1#f1 x reader#f1#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x female reader#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81#op81 fic#oscar pastry
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Hearts Intertwined
Chapter 1
Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: violence, attempted sexual assault, the appropriate panic response to one such attempt, word “r*pe” used during inner monologue
Summary: You go out to bring food to Crime Alley kids on Easter Sunday and have an unlucky encounter. The night takes a turn thanks to a lucky appearance.
Info on Reader: Reader is alone in Gotham, she drives a motorbike and is much shorter than Jason. More info as the story goes on!
Word count: 1981 words
‼️⚠️REMEMBER TO REBLOG!!!⚠️‼️
You should’ve know, really.
Usually it wasn’t like this, usually you were careful.
Usually, you didn’t go out in Crime Alley alone.
Usually, you weren’t stupid.
The heart and the mind don’t mix well though, and clash between the two usually ends with the triumph of irrationality.
And this was your case, as your heart had led you outside into the most dangerous parts of Gotham on Easter Sunday, delivering warm containers of food to the children you had become accustomed to visiting in these areas.
You usually were not alone though, always accompanied by some of your friends from work, kind souls like you who helped keep you safe as you brought some light in the days of the kids of Crime Alley.
This time however it was different, with all of your friends and acquaintances choosing to spend the day either celebrating the Holiday or sleeping away the April chill and the week’s hardships.
You never had anyone to celebrate Holidays with though, no family close to you for thousands of miles, and this was how you always spent special days, helping those who needed it.
This is why, in a mix of routine and empathy, you spent the last of your usable March’s earnings on ingredients and spent Saturday and Sunday morning preparing as much food as possible, before loading it all into your motorbike’s luggage rack and heading out, checking on the food to make sure it was warm still in the thermic containers and driving off into the East End, where you spent the remainder of your day till sundown.
And that was how you ended up in your current situation, cornered by a drunken man in some grimy cul-de-sac smack dab in the middle of Crime Alley.
“How you doin’, sweetheart?” Slurred the man, slightly stumbling toward you.
He was big. He dwarfed you in size, his rough and calloused hands big enough to cover your face and then some. His face was pulled into a smirk, the stench of alcohol coming from him evident from even feet away.
You tried reacting, really you did, but before you could do so much as speak his hands were on you, rancid breath hot over your face.
You tried to scream several times before any sound decided to come out, and then you were quickly silenced by one of the man’s hands on your mouth, the other roaming and trying to undo your coat.
Hot tears ran down your face as you tried to fight him off while simultaneously battling with your body’s instinctual reaction to freeze, your limbs flailing while you landed feeble hits on his arms.
Desperation and tears clouded your vision, muffled screams coming through the barrier that was the man’s grimy hand, the blood rushing through your ears covering the rustling of your coat, the only barrier between yourself and the man’s depravity.
That same sound seemed to close you off from the rest of the world, the night obvious to your agony.
That same sound was the reason you almost missed it, tho it must have echoed painfully loudly in the dangerous and tense silence of Crime Alley.
“Hey!”
It cut through the haze, a deep sound, scratchy as if it hurt, roughened by something fiery, something dark.
Through the tears you saw the man turning to face the mouth of the alleyway, a deep scowl carving into his face. “The fuck ya wan’, man?”
“For you to get out of here, and fast.” Replied the voice, scathing and menacing.
No, not a voice, a man. You couldn’t see well in the dark, but you could see enough to be preoccupied.
He was even bigger than the drunken man who had originally cornered you, probably taller than six feet and with muscles evident even through his coat.
You didn’t dare move, freezing on the spot and trying not to make a sound in hopes the drunk might leave you alone in favour of a confrontation with this new person on the scene.
The former kept looking to the mouth of the alley, seeming to consider something. Then, with a sliver of badly-concealed fear, he muttered “Whatever, this is not worth my time anyways” and took his hands off of your mouth and body before making his way out of the alley as quick as possible.
You were left standing there, hot tears still steadily making their way down your face but not making a sound, trembling like a leaf but unable to move a muscle.
Your eyes were trained on the man in the coat now, dark silhouette a stark contrast to the moonlight-washed sidewalk on the main street of Crime Alley.
He shoved the drunk when he passed by him, prompting him sprint, the only evidence of his presence the quickly fading sound of feet on asphalt and the ghost sensation of his filthy hands on your form.
The crunching of broken glass let you know the man was walking towards you now.
“Hey.”
It cut through the silence, a deep sound, soft and careful despite the roughness of the timbre. “Are you hurt?”
You could just shake your head, words refusing to come out.
Your breathing was fast-paced, shallow gulps of air making their way through your slightly parted lips, not enough air coming through. Your heartbeat was jackrabbit-fast, your head spun slightly.
“Can you walk?” The stranger gently prodded.
Your legs felt like jelly. You were trembling all over. You were pretty sure if you tried to take even the littlest of steps you would’ve fallen, legs giving out.
You hesitantly shook your head no.
The stranger stayed silent, seemingly considering something. Then he took a deep breath, and slowly put his hands up to show you his empty palms. “I’m gonna come towards you, ok? I swear I won’t do anything, I just want to make sure you’re okay and help you walk if you’ll let me, alright? It’s not safe here at night, I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”
Still that soft, careful voice, such a stark contrast to when you first heard it.
You considered his words, and jerked your head in a quick nodding motion.
That prompted him to move, slowly making his way toward you. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were still up at shoulder height, hands splayed showing his rough but empty hands. He was trying to make himself look as small and non-threatening as possible. Despite it’s ineffectiveness due to his sheer size, the effort comforted you and you could feel your muscles slightly relax, though the trembling didn’t let out.
Once he was a few feet away from you, he stopped. From this distance you could make out his features a lot better. His eyes were light, mainly blue with the bares hints of something else, maybe green? You weren’t sure, the moonlight not helping you distinguish details. His hair curled softly, a shock of white on his forehead amidst the inky blackness of the locks. His features were pleasing, a straight nose and a defined jaw coupled with slightly high cheekbones giving him a distinct look.
He looked you in the eyes, a gentle look on his face as he steadily held your gaze.
“Can I help you walk?” He asked. “If you say yes, I’d just put my arm around your back and help steady you, nothing more.”
You were pretty sure you would’ve toppled over on your own. You tried speaking, but words still refused to come out of your mouth.
At your body’s uncooperativeness, panic started clawing up your chest and through your throat. You could feel your throat closing up, your lungs refusing to draw breath as your vision clouded with tears once again, eyes trained to a spot on the ground.
The reality of the situation was finally setting in, you had almost been raped.
You had almost been raped, and you hadn’t been able to do anything about it.
You hadn’t been able to so anything about it.
Had it not been for a charitable stranger walking down the street deciding to take a few minutes from his day to help you, your world would’ve been turned upside down, your body would’ve been desecrated and your mind shattered into bits.
The thousand scenarios played through your head, your mind’s eye sifting through all the possible ways it could’ve ended.
You could see nothing more than those possibilities, hear nothing more than the rushing of your blood past your ears, feel nothing more than the ghost touch of hands in places they should never have been and your body’s trembling.
‘Oh God i was almost raped oh God iwasamostrapedohGod-‘
At your reaction the stranger stayed rooted to the spot, lowering even more until he was crouching on the ground, eyes searching yours.
“Hey, are you okay? Please, follow my breaths.” He said, slowly reaching out to gently touch your hand, which hung limply at your side.
It was a jolt of electricity. The touch snapped you from your panic. The scenarios dissipated from your vision. The sound of blood rushing became fainter. The ghost hands on your body relented. You could see again, the eyes of the stranger coming back into view, his hand solid but gentle on yours, the sound of his steady breathing the only thing you could hear in the silence of the night.
You started following his breathing, your own breaths calming and finally becoming effective in getting air into your lungs.
Once your trembling was as settled as it was gonna get and you were taking in steady puffs of air, the stranger started talking again.
“I’m sorry if what i said upset you. Do you not want help with walking? It’s fine if you don’t, we can wait here until you’re fine enough to go on your way. I won’t let anyone bother you.” His voice was oh so gentle, low and comforting in the silence of the night.
You tried speaking, and this time you succeeded.
“Thank you.” Were the first words to tumble out. “I’d a-appreciate the help.” A feeble thing your voice was, oscillating between a whisper and something barely above that, pitched high from the residual panic.
His expression was open in a way that was clumsy on his face, like his features weren’t used to doing that. His eyes shone in the moonlight, a glint in them that reminded you of morning dew.
His eyes widened slightly, surprise evident in his parted lips.
“You don’t need to thank me. I… I just did what was right. You needed help, so I gave it.”
There was something in his voice, a sureness evident even with the faltering of it.
He got up from his crouch, dusting off his trousers. He came up to your right side and gently lifted up his left hand, setting it just under your left arm. You were basically tucked into his left side, his arm supporting your weight.
He was warm. You realised then that you were cold. He was solid, his muscles evident even through the thick layers of fabric he was clad in.
“My name is Jason, by the way, Jason Todd. You know, in case it helps you feel a little less uncomfortable with being so close to a stranger.”
You looked up at him. Considered.
He had just given you his name. This stranger, Jason, had disturbed the quiet of his own Easter Sunday evening to help you because you needed it and through all of that he was thinking of possible ways he was making you uncomfortable and solving them unprompted.
You smiled softly up at him, something akin to wonder in your eyes.
You gave him your name.
#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd fanfiction#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood fanfiction#batfamily#batfam
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DAY OFF - maximus (fallout tv) x female!reader (smut)
Warnings: SMUT MDNI!!! 18+ // virgin maximus, you work for free because he’s just so sweet, no use of “y/n” but “your name” is typed out, subby (switch) Maximus, he’s embarrassed, I love it; reader is described as female, chubby, and southern/from the east coast, premature ejaculation (but the stamina is there fr he’s back up and ready in like 30 seconds flat); oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it ‘fo you tap it, reader), creampie, I probably forgot some but tbh I didn’t expect to get as raunchy as I did (not proofread)
(this is written to be a one-shot but if there’s enough interest in a second part i’ll work something up :))
Word count: 3k
Masterlist
Maximus was pretty pissed off and worn down by the time he came across a settlement along the way to tracking down the head, or the armor, he really didn’t know what his purpose in life was at the moment. He was just tired and needed some water, maybe a snack. He kept thinking back to that vault dweller he met in Filly, her pretty big eyes and that cute little smile. He’d never see her again, but hey, at least he could have the memory.
He stumbled into the first crudely established business he could find that might serve him, taking a seat at the bar and trying to get the bartender’s attention. Clearly had not taken in the scenery of the bar he was in. Beautiful women stood around, each one with various male patrons. Unable to properly get the man’s attention; Maximus huffed and let his shoulders slump in near-defeat. After meeting the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and then getting his ass kicked and losing the fucking armor, he had little energy left to give.
You noticed this from your position at the end of the bar, slowly inching your way down as he took his place at the bar. The man had barely looked up when he burst through the door, clearly not noticing he had stumbled into the only brothel for miles around. Well respectable women making money to support themselves, helping weary travelers and the occasional rough raider to get some peace and release for the night. Today was your day off, but you always loved a little challenge.
“Emmett! Would you be a dear and get me two waters?” You leaned over the bar and flashed the old man a big smile, he had always had a soft spot for you since you’d always slip him a big tip from whatever you made upstairs. Emmett filled up two glasses of water and slid them across to land in front of you, “On the house, beautiful.”
You turned to get a good look at the man, fighting back a laugh as he stared at the glass of cold water in your hand, almost resembling a panting dog. “Here, honey; this is for you.” He muttered out a ‘thanks’ as he took the glass and took it down in three gulps, setting it back down on the counter between them.
Maximus was smitten the moment he laid eyes on you, his literal saving grace. He finally took in his surroundings and cleared his throat, trying to put on that macho attitude of a knight, but really just an awkward little guy (with and) without that armor. “Thank you, um, I didn’t seem to catch your name?” He tried not to notice the obvious – that you were a whore, and he was a lying squire. He figured you two were one in the same, he was the lowest rung of the Brotherhood’s hierarchy, and you were, well, a prostitute. Max didn’t really care though; he had never seen someone as captivating as you, especially not in the wasteland.
You told him your name, and Maximus swore he had never heard anything so beautiful before. He watched you take small sips from the glass in front of you as you spoke with him for the next few minutes, realizing he had yet to offer you his name. To lie or not to lie, that is the question.
“M-Maximus. That’s my name.” He told you, offering up a piece of knowledge about himself. Hey, he figured he’d never be back in this part of the wasteland, telling you his real name wouldn’t hurt nobody. “I uh, I don’t have any caps, so if you’re looking for a customer…” He trailed off, thinking you were only there for one thing.
“Well, lucky for you, today’s my day off.” You flashed him an award-winning smile, one that would’ve been plastered on billboards in the old world.
The two of you talked for awhile, neither of you too worried about the environment around you. You filled in most of the silence with some stories about your past. He found out you were close to his age, had come to the western wasteland from what used to be the Carolinas, and were working in the saloon until you could find someone to take you back to Appalachia. You both sat there until closing time, Emmett giving you signal with a jerk of his head towards the stairs leading up to your room with an eyebrow up as if asking, “Charity work on your day off?”
“Hey Maxie, you wanna go get some sleep? Only five caps for a nice place to rest.” You squeezed his arm gently, leaning towards him, “No business, just as friends.” Maximus had never had a nickname before, other than the verbal insults spat at him by his fellow brothers. After spending quite some time with you, he decided that he liked the nickname, and would not let the abuse of the Brotherhood affect his brief time with you. He found himself nodding without thinking over your offer, blindly following you once you moved your dainty little hand to grab onto his larger one. Once he was behind you, he took notice of the way your dress moved as you walked, swaying slightly with each step. He tried to remain honorable and not stare at your ass as you went up the stairs, believing you were telling the truth when you claimed that no ‘business’ would happen.
Boy had he been wrong.
Once you had him safely in the confines of your room, your lips were on him like flies to honey. He desperately kissed you, his hands coming up to hold your cheeks like you’d float away if he didn’t anchor your body to his. Or, maybe he felt like he’d float away if he didn’t hold onto you.
“No, no no no no! This can’t be happening.” Maximus broke away from your lips suddenly, trying to push you from his lap at the feeling of his growing erection.
“Hey hey, calm down.” You frowned and grabbed onto his hands, distracting him by putting them firmly on your thighs and looking up into his frantic eyes, “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I think my cock is about to explode.” Maximus panicked and frowned when you just laughed in his face, not taking his worries about the brainwashed BoS sex ed seriously. Your hands floated up to rest on the side of his neck, your thumb ghosting over the scar running along his chin.
“Oh, bless your heart. Maxie, that’s what‘s supposed to happen. Do you trust me to make that feel good for you?” The way you cooed to him in a condescending way in that sweet southern accent made him whimper. His head nodded on instinct, going into this with blind trust for you since hey, you were a professional. With him finally voicing the consent on the matter, you flashed him a big smile and resumed making out with him. Your hands drifted down between your two bodies, palming him gently through the front of his pants and eliciting sweet whimpers from the virgin.
His hands were clumsy as they explored your body, but you didn’t really mind. He finally discovered the places his hands felt like home, one landing on the soft, plump flesh of your hip as the other found its place on your lower back. He pulled your body closer, seeming to gain more courage as the night progressed. Something about a safe bed and a good-looking woman in his lap just did it for him, y’know?
Max shifted you both down so he could lay his upper body back against your pillows, just trying to get comfortable and not think about the way his cock felt–you made it very hard (pun intended) to think about anything else. You broke your lips away from his and let out a melodic giggle as he chased your lips. You needed him out of that white t-shirt that oh-so-deliciously clung to his biceps, so naturally your hands reached to pull it over his head.
You really were the best at what you did, and you knew it, Maximus could tell. You expertly removed his belt and pants without him even noticing, only detaching your lips from his because you had started to leave a trail moving down, down, down…
Fuck, he’s beautiful, you thought to yourself. Taking time to press open-mouthed kisses along any scars that may have been on his abdomen, you glanced up to see his eyes locked on you. Half-lidded brown eyes stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat as you finally reached your destination. You carefully opened his pants and tapped his hip gently, asking him to lift up to make this a little easier for you. As he obeyed, you pulled his pants down in one swift motion, smirking when you saw his cock. Perfectly shaped, thick and girthy, just how you liked it, and rock-hard as it sprung up out of the confines of his briefs.
“Still trust me?” You whispered to him before you put your hands on him again, basically salivating over the thought. Maximus didn’t even need to hear the rest of your question, nodding frantically after you uttered the first syllable. Taking his cock in your hand, you easily began working him, keeping your eyes on him. You loved the look on a virgin’s face when you touched them for the first time, and Max was no different. His eyes had closed, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Absolutely fucking beautiful, in your professional opinion.
His hands found their way to your hair as you licked a drop of precum from the tip of his cock, humming softly in delight at the salty substance before immediately getting to work. You wrapped your lips around him and gathered enough saliva to really make it enjoyable for him, not even having time to really get sloppy with it when the pretty boy had busted in your mouth with a profuse apology. Greedy, you pulled your mouth off of him and swallowed down the load. You thought it was cute how apologetic he was at how quick it had happened, so you wiped your mouth and leaned up to kiss him again. “Don’t apologize, I’m not done.”
Max didn’t know what else to expect, already astonished that it had gone on this long and his cock was still attached to his body. With his cock standing staunch and almost painfully erect again, Maximus let out a pitiful whine when you lifted your dress over your head. You guided his hands to your hips again, starting to work a rhythm against him with your hips.
“You okay if I ride you, honey?” You asked him, peppering kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Maximus nodded quickly and dug his fingertips into your pudgy hips, moving you in his lap the way that he wanted. He thinks he’s starting to get the hang of this sex thing, until you lift yourself up and he feels the warmest, softest grip he’s ever felt before. He thought your mouth was the best thing he had ever felt, until he felt the way your pussy gripped his cock alll the way down until he was buried inside you.
“Shit, Maxie, you might be the biggest I’ve ever taken.” You mewled, leaning over his body in a way that perfectly positioned your breasts above his face. You put your weight on your hands on either side of his head, propping yourself up to start moving your hips. Grinding into him for a moment to really feel how deep he was before lifting yourself up and dropping yourself back down to test the waters with your new toy.
Meanwhile Maximus couldn’t focus, at this moment he had completely abandoned his faith in the Brotherhood, creating a new religion in your body. Maybe he was just delusional over getting laid but he would worship the ground you walked on after this. His mouth found one of your nipples and latched onto it almost instinctively (don’t mommy kink shame me), rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud before pulling back to give the other some well deserved attention.
You finally fell into a good rhythm, leaning back on him and grabbing onto his legs behind you for support as Maximus figured out that if he thrust his hips up just right, you’d let out a new sound. At some point you realized he had taken over, his hands digging roughly into your hips and thighs as he fucked up into you.
Maximus grinned when he realized that not only did this feel great, it looked like you were actually enjoying it too. He was a quick learner, figuring out which ways to move his hips that would elicit the sweeeetest noises from your throat. He decided to get cocky with it and put those squire muscles to good use, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you in place against his body as he pistons his hips quicker. Admittedly becoming more sloppy, but he soon realized that it was because you had come completely undone in his arms.
Your eyes had rolled back as soon as he help you in place, nothing but the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans that were getting higher and higher in pitch. “Max- fuck- Maximus—“ you tried to warn him that you were going to cum, burying your face in his shoulder and white-knuckling the blanket as you exploded instead, a gush of what Maximus thought was piss (he would later learn that no, you didn’t just urinate on him) coating the two of their abdomens. Never deterred him though, because soon after Max had let the explosion feeling take himself over, pumping his heavy load into you. You swore you could feel it literally hit your cervix and hoped you weren’t ovulating.
Maximus kept his arms tightly around you as you laid on top of him for a moment, moving only slightly in a way that would allow his cock to slip from your velvety walls. Leaving you with the ejaculate mix dripping down your thighs. His fingers traced up your spine gently before his dropped his arm to the side, letting you get up if you so pleased.
You did, but only after hovering your face over his to brush your lips against his in an almost-tender kiss. Your legs were shakier than you’d like to admit as you crawled off of him, cleaning yourself up a bit before wrapping yourself in your nice robe. Maximus sat up a bit on his elbows to watch you float around the room, smiling up at you when you came back to him with a wet rag to clean him off.
“Get some sleep, Maxie.” You pressed your lips to the skin just above his bellybutton, then one against his sternum, finally one more pressed to his lips that lingered as long as he allowed it to. To you, aftercare was important to both parties, and since you were the more experienced, you’d have to teach him a thing or two about that. “You’re safe here with me, I promise.”
Maximus watched you slowly make your way up his body, wrapping his arm back around you to pull you closer to deepen your kisses. Both of you had just exploded and yet he could still probably go again, but the exhaustion of his journey had finally hit him, and he knew he had a lot of ground to cover in the morning. He nestled his head against your bosom and closed his eyes, not used to any sort of cuddling but definitely just wanting to feel your softness as long as he could before everything got hard again.
You had a fond smile on your face as you looked down at the man in your bed, it wasn’t often that you took a serious liking to any of the men that strolled through the saloon doors, but something about the “I can fix him”-ness of the false knight under your covers was intriguing. You wrapped your arm around him and gently traced your finger over some raised skin between his shoulders, too tired to make out what the shape was.
You had woken up before him the next morning and had already gotten dressed and ready before deciding to wake him, a plate of biscuits and a cup of badly-made coffee on her side table. Maybe, you hoped, if you made his time really worth it he’d come back to see you again. Maybe as a customer, but you wouldn’t charge him any caps for your services. He’d be your exception, something about a friends discount.
Maximus opened his eyes slowly when he felt a small hand massaging his back, turning his head to look towards your figure sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Mornin’, honey. You gotta get goin’, I got business to attend to.” You watched as he rolled onto his back and looked up at you fully. Max cracked a smile as he reached over to grab your face, pulling you down but leaning up to meet you halfway and capture your lips in a kiss.
“I’m going to come back for you, I promise.” He whispered against your lips, thinking back to your conversation the night before about working there until you found a companion to guide you across the vast wasteland. He’d find the knight’s armor and return to prove himself worthy of being a knight by rescuing the fair maiden.
“I’ll hold you to that, Maxie.” You pulled away from him and gestured to the clothes on the edge of the bed, “Get dressed, there’s a fire escape out my window. My boss will be so mad if she sees you leavin’ this late in the morning.” Maximus redressed himself pretty quick and peeled his head out the window to see the makeshift ladder hanging down the side of the building. He turned back to try and steal one more kiss, but you had already fled the room.
a/n: ok so I wrote this at work & when I got off work I was exhausted but I neeeeeded to finish it so this went way off the rails, wasn’t expecting myself to do all that, but hope you enjoyed!
taglist: @judgementdays-girl (you requested a max fic after i had already started so here's this :))
gif by @mancandykings
dividers by @cafekitsune
#maximus fallout x reader#maximus fallout x you#maximus fallout imagine#fallout tv imagine#squire maximus#ren writes#fallout tv series#maximus x reader#maximus x you#maximus fallout x oc#maximus fallout
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a/n: the title (and some other parts of the story) are inspired by the song ‘bad blood’ by taylor swift and no, i am not ashamed of it lmao. this is my first time ever diving into this type of story, so I’m equal parts excited and terrified. if you have any critiques/tips, please let me know below! also, “scout’s honor” is by no means abandoned. I’m going to be writing/posting chapters of each story at their own pace :)
chapter summary: you had been alone for over a month now, combating against stumbling dead people who slobbered for your flesh. when a random stranger finds you in the aftermath of a blackout, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to join his group. but he did, and in a desperate move to escape those four walls, you accepted – not knowing at all what was in store for you.
word count: 2.4k
c/w: canon-typical violence/gore, sassy!reader, fem!reader, language, past-established relationship, very subtle allusions to a troubled past
prologue
“hey, lady, are you, uh… are you okay?”
the words were garbled and a tad distorted, and for a moment, you thought you’d merely conjured the voice from the depths of your frayed conscious — but the boyish face that stared down at you when you fluttered your eyes open threw that theory straight out of the window.
for a moment, you simply stared in silence. you stared at the boy’s face, taking note of the pink flush of life to his flesh — not gray, not rotted, not bloody; pink. his face was clammy, sweaty, with the skin pulled in different directions to paint an expression of worry; an honest to god expression.
a person. this was a living, breathing, real person standing above you. at least, he seemed real enough, but —
“are you real?”
the question bubbled, croaky and hoarse, past your lips before you could reign it in. the boy scrunched his bushy brows together and his squinted eyes narrowed until they were near closed. a clear expression of confusion. huh, another expression.
“um, yeah, I am.” the boy responded, though, in his bewilderment, the statement sounded more like a question than a fact. a laugh wrenched itself from your chest.
“you don’t sound too confident about that, mystery man.”
“I-I’ve just never been asked that question before.” the boy sputtered, a tad defensively, lips pulling into a frown. expression after expression from this one, it seemed.
“I haven’t had to ask that question before,” you grumbled out. pain pinched your ribs when you propped yourself up on your elbows, no longer feeling the need to lay flat on the warm pavement. “don’t exactly see new faces in the city much, let alone breathing ones.”
“you mean you’ve been in the city this whole time?” the boy exclaimed quietly; his eyes were wide now, revealing orbs the shade of dark chocolate. they weren’t fogged over, dead, or unseeing, but glassy and expressive. human.
a ragged, raspy croak broke off your sentence before you could even start it. your muscles jolted in response, but before you could react, the boy let out a shocked yelp that was followed quickly by a wet squelch right next to you. you trailed your eyes down to find a small hand-ax splitting the rotted flesh of the groaner to your right. the one you swore you’d killed not long ago.
“huh. thought I got that one,” you noted mellowly, swinging your eyes back up to the boy to give him a small nod. “thanks.”
“yeah, uh, no problem.” the boy panted, returning your nod. his eyes darted from side to side before he thrust out a hand to you. all you could do was stare at it.
“it’s not safe out here in the open. we should really get inside a building or something,” the man suggested, words edged with subtle nervousness. you scanned your surroundings slowly; there was a cluster of groaners shuffling towards you, but they were at least twenty yards away — not much of a threat given the granny crawl they were traveling at.
mystery man, however, became more nervous at the sight of them.
“c’mon, I know a place that’s clear. it’s not far from here.” he urged, extended hand trembling faintly. you let out a huff and grasped it with your own. your ribs bloomed with pain once again when the man hauled you up, but you bit back the groan that it prompted; you’d had worse than this, and you’d long since learned to suck it up and just keep truckin’.
when you were stable on your feet the man released your hand and reached down to free the hand-ax from the fallen groaner’s head, his face scrunching in disgust at the wet sucking sound the action elicited. it actually amused you to an extent.
“okay, mystery man, lead the way to safety.” you stated flippantly, manipulating your arm in a ‘the stage is yours’ sort of gesture. the man gave you a bit of a stinky side-eye before jerking his head to the left.
“it’s just this way,” he whispered. he padded to the sidewalk quietly, head whipping in each direction, body tense as if he expected a groaner to simply jump out unannounced at any moment.
what a scaredy cat, you thought jocularly.
“also, my name is glenn, not ‘mystery man.’” he added in a mutter.
you merely hummed in acknowledgment, more so for the man than yourself; you knew that by sundown he’d be gone with the wind, you’d forget all about this glenn fellow, and his name would be lost to your memory forever. no point in trying to stick it there in the first place.
silently, glenn led you through skinny, trashed back alleys and skirted past dilapidated structures, until at last he reached a large brick building. the door, which looked to be some sort of emergency exit, was a cool, gray metal, the hinges lined with rust and the surface slightly bleached from the harsh rays of the sun.
“it’s in here,” glenn murmured, grasping the handle and yanking it open. the hinges gave a deep, audible screech as he did so. “we cleared this out a few days ago.”
“we?” you parroted, trepidation flaring in your gut. it was fine when it was just glenn, but the thought of a group of people, one composed of unknown numbers, set off all kinds of alarms in your head.
groaners you could handle any day of the week; they were predictable, simple — just ambling corpses with no real thought process. humans… humans were different. complex, unpredictable, dangerous.
glenn noticed immediately when you hadn’t followed him through the threshold of the door; he glanced back at you, brows scrunched once more in confusion — it only took him a few moments to register the look upon your face before his eyes were widening and he was sputtering, “o-oh, it’s fine, my group isn’t – uh, they’re not dangerous. they won’t hurt you. and in any case, they aren’t w-with me today – I always make runs alone.”
“I’m s’posed to take your word for it?” you shot back, eyes narrowed dangerously. glenn gulped audibly and flicked his eyes between you and the interior of the building, lips working without producing any sound. he looked so helpless, like a lost puppy, that you couldn’t stop yourself from deflating.
“I believe you,” you uttered. “at least, I will for now. I mean, you don’t look all that dangerous. I reckon I could knock you on your ass in two seconds flat.”
a threat wrapped up within a petulant jab; not exactly your proudest moment, but part of you felt cornered, and it seemed to get the job done. glenn’s eyes flashed with surprise, and maybe a bit of fear, and his voice was less than stable when he murmured, “there’s no one else in there, I swear.”
the tense set of his shoulders, his wide eyes, and the shakiness in his voice seemed so genuine, that you couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.
“are you actually scared of me, mystery man?” you jested, genuinely bemused by how sincerely glenn considered your concealed threat. was he actually taking you seriously? glenn’s throat flexed as he swallowed and nodded.
“well, I just watched you take down about a dozen geeks with just a pocket knife; so, yeah, kind of.”
you chuckled to yourself and gave glenn a once over. maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all. he appeared genuine and harmless. kinda cute, too; in an innocent, boyish way, of course – boyish had never exactly been your style, but you could enjoy the aesthetic of it.
“well, glenn, why don’t you go ahead and show me around?” you purred, rolling his name across your tongue and not bothering to wait for a verbal confirmation. you pushed past glenn and into the dank, dusty building, eyes immediately sweeping across the bare shelves and stained walls. not a groaner, nor human, in sight.
glenn ambled further in and shut the door behind him with a soft whoosh and click. the room became near saturated in darkness, the only light being that of the sunlight filtering weakly through the gaps between the boards nailed to the windows. glenn wasn’t lying when he said it had been cleared out, but he didn’t mention anything about it being groaner-proof.
“is this, like, where your group stays or somethin’?” you inquired, your eyes narrowed and scrutinizing of every detail. there were no mats or makeshift beds that you could see, no visible provisions, and the space lacked the tell-tale signs of human inhabitance.
“oh, no, uh, this is just a rendezvous point – or, it will be. like I said before, I mostly do runs on my own.” glenn passed by you as he explained, coming to a kneel in the middle of the floor where the sunlight was most luminous. he slipped a large, beige bag from his shoulder and planted it on the ground, flipping the top and burying his hand inside.
“runs?” you wondered aloud, watching the man closely as he began to pull items from the bag one by one. medical gauzes, bottles of hydrogen peroxide, boxes of bandaids, a couple cans of vegetables occupied the space beside him bit by bit.
“yeah, runs. we made a camp a while back, at an old quarry just outside the city. food and water aren’t much of issue there, but other things” – glenn glanced up at you a bit sheepishly – “well, they run short sometimes.”
“so they send you out alone to get them?” you surmised, prompting an airy chuckle from the kneeling man.
“ah, no, I actually offered. I know the city like the back of my hand. getting in and out is no problem for me.”
you nodded your understanding, chewing the tender skin on the inside of your cheek – you were inclined to believe glenn, considering he had yet to prove himself untrustworthy, but there was something that was gnawing at you; something that you needed some clarification on.
“so, uh, if you came out here to get supplies, why’d’ya come over to me? and why did you bring me here?”
glenn paused his task for a brief moment before sighing softly. his lips thinned as he seemed to ponder how to answer.
“because I made a promise to myself. I told myself that if I ever ran across someone here in the city, I’d ask if they want to come back with me,” glenn answered quietly, though by the clench of his jaw, you could tell he wasn’t quite done with his explanation, so you bit back the other questions swirling on your tongue. “I guess I just hoped to myself that if the roles were ever reversed, someone would do the same for me.”
the residual tension that had been locking up your shoulders ever since entering the building drained away like a river to the ocean. you smiled softly and plopped down on the floor a few feet away from glenn. with a teasing warmth in your chest, you queried, “so you saw me and decided you wanted me to come home with you?”
glenn rolled his eyes, but the flush in his cheeks betrayed the effect your suggestive comment had on him.
“not like that, it’s just – it’s just that things aren’t as easy as they used to be. your best chance at survival is with a group.”
“I’ve done fine on my own,” you responded back flippantly, planting your palms behind you and leaning your weight back atop them. “I mean, I’ve been here since it started.”
glenn swiped his tongue over his bottom lip nervously, scanning through the contents on the floor before rapidly scooping them back into his bag.
“yeah, I, uh, I noticed that you’re capable. it’s just that – things won’t always be so easy, you know?”
irritation shot through your chest like a hot lance, your somewhat good mood ruined instantly.
“did I say it was easy?” you seethed, anger punctuating your every movement as you swung your hands back in front of you and leaned forward.
just as it had at the door, glenn’s mouth began to open and close rapidly as he tried desperately to recover. his wide eyes flicked down to your waistline, the area he knew held your pocket knife, and he scooted back a small bit while simultaneously dragging his bag in front of his body; an attempt to keep distance between the two of you.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that – that without a group, surviving will get harder and harder.”
you weren’t entirely sure if it was from lack of sleep, stress, or the cursed, buried memories that had been incessantly dragging themselves back up despite your multiple efforts to keep them down, but you had been highly irritable the last few days. every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face, you heard his voice, taunting you with the sweet nothings he whispered long ago. you still felt his phantom touches that had long since grown cold.
you just wanted it to stop.
you wanted to find the strength to throw that little box out of the fucking window, and to burn that one shirt he left, the only things left to remind you that he wasn’t just some conjured fever dream. that’s why you’d been out in the street in the first place, drawing as many groaners as you could to yourself just so you could picture his face as you plunged your knife through their soft, rotten skulls.
and maybe, just maybe, find the strength to drop the knife and let it end.
but you just couldn’t. you couldn’t throw the box out, you couldn’t burn the shirt, and you most definitely couldn’t let yourself die; it went against everything he taught you.
with a sigh, you opened your eyes, which you had never even remembered closing, and regarded glenn once more. his eyes were still wide, clouded with something that was a mixture of nervous and worried, his hand trembled atop his bag, and his bottom lip wavered.
“you said you promised yourself that you’d invite whoever you found in the city to your camp, yeah?” you quizzed, the question one that glenn had not expected you to ask, if the brief confusion on his face was any indicator. after a moment’s hesitance, glenn nodded.
“yeah… our camp is pretty well established, and I know we’ve got room for others. does that, uh – does that mean you want to come back with me?”
you’d never second guessed your choices, nor the consequences of those choices, and you weren’t about to start now — so, with a cheeky smile and a wink, you purred,
“sure thing, glenn. I’ll come home with you.”
a/n: so I recently checked my analytics and uh… 114 followers?? what??? like I’m — I’m speechless y’all. thank you so so much I can’t even begin to express how much it means to me <3 I promise I’ll be doing my best to dutifully deliver content to y’all as fast as possible <33333
TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown @alanalanalanalanalanna @just-always-tired @chylerluvschim @girlydollydarling @marvelcasey05
#daryl x reader#twd daryl#twd x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl imagines#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#the walking dead daryl#twd
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Honey Trap
AN: Fifth fic for @moonknight-events’ MK Bingo! This is probably a little silly (and likely not very well-written) but it was fun to come up with and write so irdc lol 😌 Hope someone other than me enjoys this!
You stumble across Marc while he's camping in a remote part of the woods and he's (understandably) suspicious of you.
(Un-beta’d)
Rated: M+ (this is smut so, you've been warned)
Prompt: Hiking
Words: 2,427
Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader
Warnings: references to death, attempted murder, knives, frottage, please let me know if i missed anything.
AO3
——————
Marc doesn’t trust you.
Your story about wandering off trail and getting lost was plausible, sure, and you looked harmless enough, but he'd been around long enough to know that looks can be deceiving.
Still, what was he to do? If you really were telling him the truth, you needed help. He couldn’t just let you wander around alone in the dark. What if something happened? What if you got injured, or worse, killed? No, better to assume the risk, to give you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, it certainly made it easier to keep an eye on you. You’d been so grateful, thanking him profusely and promising not to be a bother. He’d waved this off of course, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped when you smiled at him.
It’s late now, the moon full and high in the dark night sky. You’re sitting on the other side of the fire (his fire), your jacket zipped to your chin, arms wrapped around your legs as you try to get as close to the flames as you can without burning yourself. He tries not to keep looking at you, at the way the firelight makes you glow, but every time he looks away, his eyes inevitably drift back. There’s something about you, he’s not sure what but, it makes him feel…uneasy. Everything about you seems normal but he just can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something. His stomach rumbles at this thought and he briefly considers that he might just be hungry. With a sigh, Marc digs into his bag, searching for the rations he’d packed. His eyes meet yours over the fire as he pulls a packet of jerky out and shakes it.
“Want some?” he asks, holding it out to you.
You hesitate, eyes dipping to study the nondescript packet in his hand. He swallows thickly as you unconsciously lick your lips.
“Thanks,” you say finally, smiling as you take the food from him.
He nods, pulling out another and tearing it open. Marc’s eyes scan the surrounding darkness as the two of you eat, the slight crinkling of the ration packaging replacing the silence.
“So,” you begin, studying the strip of jerky between your fingers. “You come here often?”
His lips quirk slightly at the joke but he just shrugs. “Not really, no.”
You hum, carefully chewing a bite of jerky. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He meets your gaze, unease settling in his gut. “How do you mean?”
It’s your turn to shrug now, pulling another strip from your packet “You just seem very…prepared is all.”
He sniffs in amusement, relaxing slightly. “Yeah well, people do tend to be at least slightly prepared when they plan on camping in the woods.”
You scoff, swallowing your mouthful of food. “I wasn’t planning on camping though.”
“Maybe not,” he agrees, taking a sip from his water bottle. “But you clearly had no idea what you were getting yourself into by coming all the way out here. Seriously, who hikes without a map?”
You snort, shaking your head at yourself. “Valid point. Obviously, I’m an incompetent buffoon.”
Marc bites back a smile, pulling another piece of jerky from the packet. “Well at least you’re aware of it.”
“I’m so aware of it,” you laugh, putting your head in your hands.
He hums, his eyes drifting to you again across the fire, watching as you (presumably) mentally berate yourself for getting into this situation. What would’ve happened had you not run into him? If you had run into someone else? With no supplies, would you even have survived the night? A wave of sympathy washes over him, and he frowns at himself for going soft on you so quickly.
“What brought you out here, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”
You look up from your hands, eyes tired but bright as you smile somewhat fondly. “My brother.”
Marc raises an eyebrow. “Your brother?”
You nod, reaching for your pack. You unzip it and pull out an understated urn. His stomach sinks.
“Oh,” he croaks, his throat going suddenly dry. “I’m…sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks,” you whisper, turning your attention to the urn in your hands. “He would’ve liked you, I think. Calling me out for being unprepared and all that. He was always looking out for me.”
Marc grunts, uncomfortable now at the turn the conversation has taken given what had happened to his own brother. “Sounds like he was a, uh, good guy.”
You nod, meeting his eyes over the fire again, the soft smile on your lips making his heart skip. “He was.”
The two of you talk a little more, the topics now lighter and less serious. When you start yawning so often you can barely keep the conversation going though, he decides it’s time for bed. He insists that you take his sleeping bag, knowing your thin jacket isn’t enough to keep you warm until the sunrise. Once you agree to take it, he settles down beside the fire, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head. Your soft snores meet his ears in no time and he smiles to himself, glad that he was able to help someone without using violence just this once.
He stares into the fire, watching as the flames dance, as they devour the kindling he’d thrown in earlier, as they burn through the sticks and branches he’d collected. His eyes droop, head bobbing gently as he tries to stay awake, knowing he has to keep an eye on things (on you). He thinks he trusts you, or he wants to at least, but he just can’t seem to shake that feeling. Could he really trust himself though? After everything he’s done, after everything he’s seen? Perhaps it’s you who should be afraid of him.
His thoughts spiral, taking him in directions both logical and illogical. He lets himself get lost in it, in the scenarios, in the possibilities, each one more unlikely than the next. At some point, he must doze off, though, because the next thing he knows is the weight of a body on top of him with a knife to his throat.
It’s you. Of course it’s you.
Damn it, he should’ve known, should’ve listened to that niggling feeling inside him that told him not to trust you.
It’s dark save for the moonlight—you must’ve doused the fire before making your move on him.
“I’m sorry about this,” you say, grimacing down at him somewhat apologetically. “You seem nice, and I actually kind of enjoyed talking to you but, unfortunately, I have a job to do.”
Marc swallows thickly, the action pushing the blade a fraction deeper into his skin. “To kill me, you mean?”
Your face loses some of its softness as you shake your head at him. “That depends on how cooperative you are.”
He grunts, saying nothing as he tries to assess just how bad things are for him.
“See,” you continue, leaning in a little closer, the delicious scent of you invading his nostrils. “I need information.”
He waits for you to continue, eyes scanning your face for any tells, any flickers he can use to his advantage. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh in disappointment, frowning theatrically.
“Please, Marc, I don’t wanna have to slice up your pretty face. Just tell me what I need to know and I’ll be on my way.”
He clenches his teeth at your condescending tone. “What do you wanna know?”
You smile softly at him and he curses himself for the way his heart skips a little; what the fuck was wrong with him?
“Tell me about Operation Windstorm.”
He needs to figure out how to get out of this. He can’t just push you off of him, can’t use his legs to flip you over, not with that knife so close to his carotid artery. One wrong move and he’s dead.
So he stalls.
Marc snorts, raising an eyebrow at you. “That’s it? Of all the jobs I’ve pulled, that’s the one you wanna know about?”
You continue to smile down at him, as if you know exactly what he’s doing. “I couldn’t care less, to be perfectly honest but, my client wants to know so, until I get paid, I guess I do too.”
He grunts, resigned to the fact that he has no choice but to give you exactly what you want in the hopes that you don’t slit his throat afterward. So he tells you every detail of that job, answering every question you have, and just when he’s beginning to think this just might not end well for him, he feels the pressure of your blade ease ever so slightly.
He wastes no time, taking control and flipping you over, knocking the knife from your hand and causing it to skitter off into the darkness. Marc traps you beneath him, your arms pinned above your head, his knees bracketing your thighs. You’re not giving up without a fight though and wriggling beneath him, trying somehow to use the position to your advantage. You try to lift your leg, brushing your thigh against his groin; the clench of his jaw makes you smirk.
“Stop it,” he orders, embarrassed by how easy it was for you to rattle him.
“C’mon, we both know you don’t want that,” you tease, looking down at the slight bulge in his jeans. “Has it been a while, honey?”
He growls, your breathy chuckles sending shivers up his spine as you continue to move beneath him. “Shut up.”
“Or what?” you whisper, somehow managing to extricate one of your legs and curl it over his hip.
“Or this,” he says through gritted teeth, grinding his erection against your core in an effort to turn the tables, to work you up the way you’re working him up.
It works, your eyes fluttering, lips parting in a sweet little whimper as he grinds into you slowly, over and over again. He groans when you meet his thrusts (as well as you can anyway given your position), the heat blossoming in his gut. He leans in close, his hands still pinning your arms to the ground as he gets lost in you, in the feel of you, in the way you look beneath him.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe, panting as every press of his hips sends delightful waves of pleasure through your body.
Marc hums in agreement, his lip between his teeth as he hovers over you. You want to kiss him, to taste him, to devour him. So you do, pushing yourself up to capture his lips, your tongue claiming his mouth and pulling another groan from him. You arch into him as well as you can, pulling his body even closer with your freed leg as you continue to move together. The friction is delicious, like heaven, and a part of you never wants it to end. You wish you could flip him over again, ride him fast and hard, his strong fingers digging into your hips as you pull him apart and put him back together over and over and—
Your release slams into you at the thought, a choked moan slipping from between your lips as he keeps moving, prolonging your bliss. Marc watches you as you come, the look in his eyes is greedy as your body shakes, your face contorting into something ethereal, almost otherworldly. When you come back to yourself, you meet his eyes again, your chest heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, the wildness and lust in his eyes visible even in the darkness. You shiver with pleasure, chewing your lip as you let your gaze drag slowly down his body. You wish you could see more of him, his windbreaker doing nothing to compliment his undoubtedly amazing body.
“Who sent you?” He pants, as if he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years.
Your eyes flick back to his at the question, a lazy smile curling the edges of your mouth as you begin to move against him again, silently begging him to come for you. He swallows thickly, his body tensing with every brush of your hips, his fingers clenching and unclenching around your forearms. His eyelashes flutter as he watches you, his mouth slack with pleasure. Then he groans, giving into you, into this, his body curling even more over yours as he buries his face in your neck. He ruts against you, his movements somewhat uncoordinated as he chases his release.
His body twitches above yours as he comes, his moans muffled slightly by your neck. Just as you’re mourning the fact that you didn’t get to see his face, you notice his hold on you has slackened a bit— enough to turn the tables, you hope. Still dazed from his orgasm, it takes him a moment to realize what you’re doing as you begin to wiggle beneath him, and by the time he does, it’s too late.
Marc grunts as you push him onto his back and straddle him, your hands pinning his muscular arms to the ground. After everything, you should probably kill him—he’s the type to hold a grudge, the type that’ll try to hunt you down—but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. If nothing else, it’d be a waste of a pretty face. Instead, you kiss him, relishing the taste and feel of him one last time before pulling away to smile down at him.
“Thanks for the tumble, honey,” you whisper, climbing off of him with a chuckle.
By the time he comes back to himself, you’re gone and the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon. Marc groans in frustration, running his hands over his face as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened. He should be pissed, he thinks, for so easily falling into your trap but, somehow, he isn’t. He sniffs a laugh, shaking his head at himself as he moves to get up.
Later, when he’s packing up his gear (including the sleeping bag he’d let you borrow), he comes across a folded, non-descript piece of paper that he knows must be from you. He unfolds it, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes tracing the lines and curves of your parting words, words that make his lips quirk in a smile.
See you around.
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