#3.9k words and counting! ❤️

[lgbtiwtv]

drop the gif op🔫 we r starving out here

LOL If I’m right in thinking is about my fic, anon, you can rest assured that it’s coming along ❤️

[miabebe]

Anything and Always (YJH)

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it wasn't regardless of anything and longer than always?

Pairing - Afab!reader x Yoon Jeonghan

Word count - 3.9K (this is a miracle)

Genre - Oof buckle up my friends. This is a halloween special so I tried not hold back - its a psycho-thriller, there's smut and then there's more pyscho-ness, it's a rideee! Warnings under the cut!

A/n - It's the week leading up to Halloween folks! Unfortunately I'm not the biggest fan of clowns and ghosts and vampires etc, but I do love me a good dose of psychos (who I think are scarier btw) so here you gooooo - I may have more psycho plots for other members too but I have tooooo many og projects to work on to indulge in this T.T - I'll decide if I should do more based on the reception hehe so I would love to hear your thoughts and more!

Big big big thanks to @tusswrites and @tomodachiii - you guys were really the hands behind this one ❤️

warnings - death, murder, blood, lots of toxic emotions like jealousy, possessiveness, extreme insensitivity, PDA, sex in a public place but no one sees them? unprotected sex, rough sex, filthy talk, marking, manhandling, mentions of blowjobs and sloppy seconds, mentions of exhibitionism, choking, creampie, fingering, stalking, obsession, disposing bodies mentioned?, honestly this whole fic is just a warning at this point, idk what to say

“.....Police say that this is possibly the most brutal act of violence they have come across in Seoul city in a long time. The forensics department is still trying to identify the body but estimate that the time of death might have been around 6 months ago. The motive of the crime is still unclear and….”  

Ignoring the sound of the tv you glanced at the two figures on the other side of the glass, standing close to each other, snickering away. Your hand tightened around the letter opener, the sharp edge slicing your skin open, blood trickling down your fist. The crimson felt cold but there was a strange fire coursing through your being.

How dare she? How dare she twirl her hair like a schoolgirl and put her hands on him? And what kind of fool did she take you to be? Did she think you couldn’t see the way she was stuck to your boyfriend like a leech or did she want you to see her making a move on your man? If it was the latter then she was most definitely successful – your eyes hadn’t left their huddled figures in the last ten minutes. At least not until red began to leak onto the papers strewn on the table. Groaning slightly, you quickly let the blade go and grabbed a tissue instead.

But you couldn’t let go of what was happening outside.

Pushing your chair back, you reached for your red satin gloves and slipped them on, covering your wound. It stung as the cloth grazed your skin but you knew it would feel better later, when you’ll run your hand through your boyfriend’s soft tresses as he fucks you into oblivion. He always made everything so much better. 

In complete contrast to the professional approach you’ve always advised your employees to maintain, you opened the door of your cabin and walked over to the pair, hugging your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Han.” You muttered, placing a soft kiss on the side of his neck before glancing at the woman before you. She tried not to look at you, the same way the entire office was averting their eyes, choosing to look down at the floor instead. Afterall, no one wanted to see their boss romancing right in the middle of the workspace. You didn’t care what they thought, at least not anymore. All that mattered to you was what Jeonghan felt, so when he slowly pulled your hands away from him, you were a little hurt.

But in all fairness, Jeonghan was always like this. Always so wary of people around him, always so conscious, always so proper. If you were being honest, even you used to be the same until a few months ago. Until Jeonghan came into your life to be precise.

Before him life was different. Inheriting your father’s company at such a young age meant you had to prove you were worthy, you had to make sure you were taken seriously. That’s why you made it a point to enforce discipline at work – employees always had to be on time, tardiness was looked down upon, improper dressing was not allowed, discussing anything unrelated to work was not permitted and office romance was strictly forbidden. Again, all that was until Jeonghan made his way into your office one fine day, to interview for the position of your secretary.

You still remembered the moment he walked into your room, clutching his file against his chest, looking around with big eyes. Your childhood nanny turned caretaker introduced him, stating he was a smart guy who just finished his MBA and had a lot of potential. Apparently, a few months ago, he was recruited on the street and used to work as a part time model in your company – you couldn’t seem to recollect his face as he went on explaining how he wanted to do a more serious job now. Surely you would have known if the literal man of your dreams worked in the same space as you right? But then again, before your father died and you took over, you used to work in the writing column of this fashion magazine, the photography side of things was never in your radar. Yoon Jeonghan was never in your radar.

Making him your secretary was quite an easy decision – he had the qualifications, he already knew the company in and out and very soon, he knew you just the same too. 

Well, almost. 

He knew you took your coffee with foam art but he didn’t know it was because you liked that concentrated look on his face when he making it. He knew you always wore gloves as a fashion statement, but didn't know it was also to stop yourself from digging your nails into your skin every time you were stressed. He knew your caretaker and how important she was to you, but he didn’t know she was the closest thing you had to a mother, one whose presence you craved since you were a child. He knew inheriting this company had always been your dream but he didn’t know it was you who mixed the sleeping pills in your father’s milk that led to his overdose. 

Albeit you only added enough to make sure he wouldn’t make it to the extremely important meeting the next day. The idea was that you would have gotten the chance to replace him as CEO temporarily and show the board your talent, but apparently your father was weak enough to die from that miniscule amount, allowing you to permanently take over his role. But this wasn’t your fault, was it? So there was nothing for Jeonghan to know about it. 

Though there were a few things that he had discovered over time that a part of you wished he hadn’t - your anger, your impulsiveness, your stubbornness, your possessiveness…. He didn't know how bad it could get, but Jeonghan knew enough. That’s why the first thing he did when he pulled away from your grip was lead you to the private washroom in your cabin and fuck you mindless, thrusting into you hard and fast, letting your mark his neck carelessly.

Letting you mark him as yours.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, pulling you closer and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your pencil skirt went further up your torso as your boobs spilled out of your bra thanks to his sheer force as he showed no signs of slowing down. The granite of the sink counter felt unbearably cold against your bare ass but you didn’t care. Not when this position allowed him to ram into you while you ran your glove clad fingers in his hair, moaning right into his ear, and coaxing him further.

“Cum in me Hannie.” You purred, fingers digging into his arm. “Don't you want to fuck it back into me after work? I know how much you love your own sloppy seconds.”

“Don’t.” He groaned, his thrusts becoming harsher just at the thought of it. “We have an investor meeting after work today and I need to go pick up my niece after that. We can’t, baby.”

You rolled your eyes before pulling him into a heated kiss. This was what you loved and hated about this man. From day one, he was incredibly efficient, always so aware of your schedules, of which client calls to avoid, which pen to carry to sign official documents - he was the perfect secretary, always keeping an eye on everything. He was also a perfectly good man, always donning the sweetest smile, trying to be helpful, staying alert about your smallest needs and wants. As much as you loved how he looked after you, it was seeing him being nice to everyone else that bothered you. 

Why did he have to lean over the desk of the girl clearly pretending to be stupid when he clarified her doubts? Why did he always agree to the dinners and the after work parties that various women in the company invited him to? Why did the lady in the canteen always bat her eyes at him and give him extra sandwiches? And was it your fault that one fine day nearly all these women decided to mass resign from your company? Yeah maybe you glared at them a bit too much and maybe you increased their workload to an unbearable amount but they chose to resign, that wasn’t on you right? Honestly, you should have stopped employing women after that - at least then you wouldn’t have hired her and seen her getting all handsy with your man.

“Stop thinking about her.” 

Pulling you off the counter Jeonghan spun you around, letting you look at your fucked out face in the mirror. Your lipstick was smudged at the edges and the remnants of his cum were still at the corner of your lips from when you let him fuck your mouth minutes ago. “Eyes and mind on me when I’m fucking you, sweetheart.” He grabbed your face with his hand, squeezing it roughly. “The only thought that should be in your pretty little head is me, so stop thinking about her.”

And this was yet another reason you loved this man. He knew you like the back of his hand. He could tell from the slightest change in your expression what exactly you were thinking. He could tell from the furrow of your eyebrow what exactly you needed. He could tell when you wanted to be handled softly, and gently made love to and when you needed to just be fucked like a ragdoll. Right now, you just needed him to fuck the inappropriate thoughts out of your head and that’s exactly what he was doing, snapping his hips against yours with a relentless pace. Jeonghan might be someone who looked sweet and soft and fragile but man was he capable of fucking like a beast. No wonder you fell in love with him.

The moment you realised you had fallen head over heels for him, the first thing you did was simply tell him. Though it took him a fleeting moment, he confessed that he had been in love with you for the longest time now. Brfore you could properly even kiss him, he pushed you against the office window 78 floors high and fucked you right against it, ignoring the hundreds of staff on the other side of the glass cabin who didn’t know what to do but immediately evacuate from the floor. 

Since then, you had gotten the glass tinted and the two of you had christened almost every piece of furniture in your cabin in a similar fashion. You had Jeonghan’s things moved into your office from his cubicle and at any point you were not working, there was only one thing you were doing. Rather, one man you were doing. People would walk in on you more often than you liked to admit but stopping wasn’t an option and shame really wasn't a part of your character profile anymore. Only one thing mattered, then, now and always - Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan. 

“Oh god I’m close fuck fuck fu…” You felt your mouth hang as the feeling began to tighten in you, your legs weakening. With a hand on your back, Jeonghan pushed you onto the marble of the counter, your breasts and cheek pressed onto it, his other hand on your neck, pinning you in place

“Me too baby.” He groaned, fucking himself in you harder, momentarily forgetting how tight his grip around your neck was. The oxygen to your brain being cut off only made you feel more insane, mumbling meaningless words as you felt yourself being split open by the man you love. It was only when he saw your eyes nearly roll back that he loosened his hold, pressing his fingers into the soft skin on your hips, thrusting faster and deeper, grazing that spot again and again until you finally snapped. With a loud unintelligible moan, your walls fluttered around him, clamping his length and coating it with slick in a way that immediately sent him over the edge as he came, spilling into you in spurts. With a few more thrusts he continued to ride out his high like he didn't want to leave your warmth but when you winced at the overstimulation, he grimaced and finally pulled out.

As the two of you caught your breaths, slowly straightening yourself, you turned, finding yourself towered by him. Sighing, he caught your lips with his in a sweet kiss, in complete contrast to the way he slipped his fingers into your hole, pushing his cum further into you, for later. When the two of you finally parted, he stepped back, pulling up and buttoning his pants with a small smirk on his face. You smiled back, adjusting the panties he wasn’t even bothered to remove in his urgency, as you rang for your caretaker. Like always she would help you with your clothes, hair, makeup and make you look presentable but what was the point? Anyways, in a few hour’s time, everyone would get off work and you’d have to attend that one last meeting of the day but since it was just an audio call, you could still ride Jeonghan on your office chair while you were at it. You knew how much he loved the sight of his dick covered in his own cum pumping in and out of you so another round today was a given.

Just as Jeonghan finished dressing himself, your caretaker walked in with a fresh set of clothes, trying not to meet either of your eyes as always. Normally, Jeonghan didn’t hang around till you were made decent to the public eye, he let you have your space to dress but today it was like he could tell you wanted him around. Though his neck was littered with the red of bruises and your lipstick, and he smelled like he was doused in the sweet scent of you, the image of that woman’s hand on him kept flashing in your mind. You knew he could tell you had slipped back into those thoughts as he sighed, shaking his head. 

Putting his arm out he stopped the older woman, much to your surprise. “Let me.” 

And she did, handing your clothes to him before bowing deeply and excusing herself from there. 

Your eyes followed Jeonghan as he slowly undressed you of your wrinkled clothes, sweetly kissing you anywhere and everywhere he could. You loved feeling his mouth on you like this and you know he loved it too, you could feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin. Except when he slipped your gloves off; then his expression shifted to one of pained worry.

“What happened?” He looked at you confused. “Y/n what-“

“I’m fine.” You brushed him off, but his grip on your wrist was tight. “I wasn’t careful when I used the letter opener so it just….”

“Baby.” If he could tell you were lying, you didn’t know. He just kissed your palm softly, looking at you like he was hurting more than you were. 

This man loved you. He loved you so much. He loved you just the way you were, he always made sure to let you know just how much he cared, yet you couldn’t help but continue to obsess over that memory. 

Shaking your head, you kissed him back, long and hard. 

You had to get it out of your mind. You had to do whatever it took to get it out of your mind.

This entire weekend you didn’t get to see Jeonghan thanks to his niece’s birthday. 

As much as you shouldn’t be jealous of a little girl for getting so much of your boyfriend’s attention, you were. You didn’t like anyone getting between you and Jeonghan but knowing how much he loved her, you were willing to let it slide. You still wanted to see him first thing Monday morning so you made sure to reach work as early as you could and were waiting by the door for him. 

Instead, to your surprise and disappointment, you were met with the familiar face of just the woman you didn’t want to see as she limped in, bandages scattered all over her body, her arm in a cast, hanging in a sling around her neck. 

Running your eyes over it, a small triumphant smile creeped on your face – now let her try and touch your man.

As though on cue, Jeonghan walked in, his eyes flickering between both the women before him. Reaching for your hand he pulled out the white glove you had donned today, running his finger along the fading wound. Seeing that it was much better, he interlaced his fingers with yours, and led you away to your cabin, without sparing his colleague a second look. You though, turned around just to catch sight of her dejected face. 

As Jeonghan prepared your morning coffee, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder, looking at the way he meticulously pressed the coffee powder. There was no fear or possessiveness in this hug, you were just happy. Jeonghan made you happy. He always made sure you were happy. 

Since the day he began working in this company, your smile was what he craved for the most. No, not since he began working as your secretary - since he was recruited as a model, when he first laid his eyes on you. 

It was during a press conference, announcing you had joined your father's company now that you had graduated from business school. You looked so prim and proper, like a sweet little girl from a high society, a perfect heiress with your glove clad hands clasped, resting on your lap modestly. Something about you was just so…. innocent, so easy to corrupt. It made Jeonghan fear for you - The corporate world was harsh and cutthroat. Sweet little things like you didn't belong here. 

But over time Jeonghan learnt you weren't the little innocent girl you seemed like after all. He saw how ambitious you were, willing to even put down others to climb the ladder, willing to do anything. He saw your anger and the things it made you do. He saw your tantrums when you didn't get what you wanted. He saw everything because Jeonghan was always watching. Always. 

He was watching you at work, he was watching you make your way home, he was watching what you did in your little penthouse, strutting around in your pretty night dresses…. Jeonghan was always watching. That's how he knew that you liked men with longer hair, and that you preferred them blonde and tall and lean. That's how he made sure to groom himself, to become the man of your dreams. Because he knew exactly what your dreams were - afterall, he always watched you sleep too. 

That's also how he knew the number of sleeping pills you added in your father's milk weren't right. Yes you were ambitious and vile but you were short sighted. What you needed wasn't an opportunity to prove yourself but a permanent position to lead the company. That was your dream after all and Jeonghan would do whatever it took to make them come true. That's why he slipped in more pills into the glass - silly little you could surely not have thought so far.

The thing that Jeonghan didn't take into consideration though, was how inaccessible you would be to him once you became CEO. He didn’t get to see you as often and even if he did, you always had company. You were constantly monitored, always followed by security, always protected. He needed other ways of getting close to you, other ways he could keep an eye on you. 

The first step was to get your previous secretary to resign. Honestly, that was probably the hardest step along the way - no matter what Jeonghan did, and mind you, he did everything possible, she did not step down from her position. So he did what he had to make sure she never returned, to make sure they didn't ever find her.

Although he might have been a little less successful on that front - from what he heard on the news yesterday, it turned out that after all this while, they finally had found her. He just hoped that the cops didn't dig around there any further - it wasn't like anything could trace back to him, he made sure of that, but he didn't know if they could digest everything they would find in his favorite dumping spot. Afterall, he had to make all those who truly knew him disappear - he couldn't take the risk of anyone letting you know what he was capable of. Of how far he was willing to go for you.

Your caretaker knew. She was the only one who knew but Jeonghan needed her. He needed someone you trusted to recommend him to you so he dealt with her in a way that was far easier - he just promised her he would pick up her granddaughter everyday after working hours and make sure she reached home safely as long as she kept her mouth shut and introduced him to you. The old lady was a sensible one - she did what she was told. Perhaps she knew that if she didn't, no one would question if her foot were to accidentally slip and send her plunging down 78 stories. No one would care. 

But if anything similar were to happen to the colleague who was trying to make a move on him yesterday, Jeonghan knew you would be suspected. He couldn't have that happen, he couldn't have anything happen to you. 

That's why he followed the woman around over the weekend, making note of where she went and what she did, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his move. She told all the concerned employees asking her that she was too drunk and so she didn't realise she had walked into incoming traffic and Jeonghan didn’t see the need to correct her - she didn't walk on her own will, she was shoved. 

But then again, all that happened was she broke an arm and a few ribs, and dislocated her shoulder, it was hardly anything. At least when compared to the wound on your hand because of her. All that mattered was that the sight of her finally seemed to have put a smile on your face, knowing that he wouldn't have those hands on him again. That was enough for him, your happiness was enough for him. For that he would do anything. 

“Thank you for all that you do for me Han.” You muttered against his skin breathing in the combined scent of him and the coffee as he smiled to himself. But of course.  

Topping off your drink with a tiny foam heart, he turned to hand it to you, receiving your sweet smile in return. It made him scoff inwardly. Look at you, pretending to be all innocent. 

Like you too weren’t obsessively stalking her over the weekend.

Like it wasn’t your car that caused the accident that night. 

Like you didn’t pay off the cops to let you go while your employee laid bleeding and unconscious on the road. 

You always tried to hide so much behind that saccharine smile, but how could you? How could you when he was always watching? How could you when he would do anything to be by your side? How could you when he loved you more than anything Y/n? 

More than anything and longer than always. 

A/n - This is the first time I've dabbled in a genre like this so I'm nervous - kind comments and just thoughts in general are much appreciated! Heads up, I have 4 more plots so if I can, then I shall be dropping those too hehe

[ghosty-writes-23]

A 'Helping' Hand. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Boyfriend!Leon, Sweet fluff, Morning Cuddles, NSFW Content, Switch!Leon, Body Worship, Praise, Eating Out, Blowjob, Riding, Aftercare.

Pairing: Emo!Boy!Leon + Tattoo!Store!Onwer!Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: Your sweet boyfriend decides to come and help you at work, but one thing leads to another.

Word Count: 3.9k

Ghosty's Notes: Hi, I’m sorry this post is late, I have been really busy with my course and just finished a 1000-word case study and I’m due to submit a 2200 essay by may and I haven’t even started yet, so I am really sorry I haven’t been updating lately. But I finally posted something, and I plan on posting something short with RE2:R!Leon in a couple of days.

Side note: All the songs mentioned in this one-shot are from 2005 :)

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interact // 18+ Content.

Last night you had received a text from one of your working tattoo artists, that the monthly shipment had arrived at closing time and been brought into the store preventing it from getting stolen, you had sent her a thank you text and told your artist group chat to take the day off, which a few of your younger artists where grateful for because it gave them a chance to catch up on their university studies and you knew some of your other artists had small children as well.

You were happy to give them the day off because it meant that you can restock your tattoo studio in peace because you like things in a certain order.

Hearing the faint tune of Bat Country by Avenged Sevenfold starting to play, sucking in a soft breath you started to stir and felt your boyfriends arm tighten around your waist under the slipknot shirt of his you were wearing, you could hear him softly humming to the song causing you to smile softly even in your sleepy state.

“I have to go in today.” You say as you felt Leon nuzzling into your neck, his snakebite piercing gazing the soft skin of your neck, his nose ring also gently bumping against your neck as well. “5 more minutes.” He deep voice rumbled; his voice was always deeper when he first woke up in the morning.

Reaching over you grabbed your phone and finally turned off your phone alarm before placing it back on your bedside table. “I really have to go.” You playfully argued with him as you knew what the time was, the quicker you got it done the faster you could come home.

“you’re abandoning your boyfriend on his day off work.” Leon pouted as you slipped out from his grasp and comfort of your shared warm bed, you playfully rolled her eyes before she leaned over and gently pushed back his messy dark blonde bed hair and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m such a horrible girlfriend.” You say with a playful grin before you moved away and headed to your shared bathroom to do your morning routine.

You brushed your teeth and hair, took your morning medication, standing in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your freshly cleaned body you did your morning skincare routine, not bothering doing a whole face of makeup, just some concealer, setting powder, mascara, eyeliner and lip balm today since you weren’t seeing clients today and it was too much work in the morning. As you where applying your lip balm you felt Leons arms wrap around your waist.

Looking up at him through the mirror, you could see his messy dark blonde hair was sticking up in all directions, his sweatpants hanging low on his lips, you could see the matching my chemical romance tattoo, it was of the album three cheers for sweet revenge done in the lovers tarot card design, the tattoo was placed on both of your forearms just above your wrists, you had designed the tattoos at Leon’s request.

you could caught a glimpse of Leon’s nose piercing and crooked helix piercing that he pierced himself when you two first started dating, because he wanted to impress you with his piercing ‘skills’ but he ended up at the hospital later that night because his ear swelled up and he was into much pain to drive himself, you always tease him and tell him you count that as your guys first date.

“you didn’t need to get out of bed.” You say applying your lip balm, your eyes were focused on your reflection in the mirror. “I’m come with you.” He says placing a gentle kiss on you neck as he slid his arm around your towel covered waist.

You could see the little tattoos that decorated his arm, some he had before you guys meet and others you had done or covered up. “you don’t have too, it will be boring at the studio today, sleep in today.” You tell him but he shakes his head before he leaned down and softly kisses you.

“Wanna spend time with you.” He says before pulling away as he starts his morning routine of brushing his teeth and then showering, going back into your shared bedroom you decided to wear some leggings, a crop top and Leon’s Metallica hoodie you brought him last year when you went to the concert in your city for your 4-year anniversary.

As you gathered your things you would need for the day Leon came out of the bathroom wearing black ripped skinny jeans and nirvana shirt, his hair had been pushed off his head he looked fully awake now.

“Princess don’t you own your own hoodies.” Leon says with a playful tease that makes you roll your eyes roll slightly. “it’s not your hoodie it’s our hoodie.” You say grinning causing him to roll his eyes as he pulled you into him by your waist.

“you’re lucky your cute.” He mumbles before he kisses you softly the metal rings of his lip piercings pressing into your lips, you kissed him back as you wrapped your arms around his neck and went on your tippy toes.

The kiss was slow and gentle making your body feel all warm and fuzzy, his kisses always left you breathless and wanting more, but when you felt his tongue piercing graze over your bottom lip you knew you needed to pull away.

“later.” You mumble against his lips before pulling away and grabbing your bag, you could see Leon smiling out the corner of your eye as he grabs his phone and anything else he would need for today.

“I’ll drop you off at the tattoo studio, then go and get coffee for the both of us.” Leon tells you as you both walk out of your shared bedroom and downstairs, you grabbed you bag while Leon grabbed his car keys.

He drove an army green jeep that he had for as long as you have known him, it wasn’t that you didn’t have a license you did, but it was cheaper for you letting your boyfriend drive you everywhere. 

Once you both where out the front door of your apartment you locked the front door then nuzzled into Leon’s arm as he linked your fingers together in his fingerless gloved hand, then you both headed outside into the cold winter morning.

*Skip Car Ride*

Leon had dropped you off at your studio before he went to your favourite café to get you a hot drink for the cold morning, it always warmed your heart with all the little things your boyfriend does for you, it makes you really appreciate him and want to do the same for him in return.

Unlocking the door to your studio you walked inside and flicked on the lights seeing all the boxes in the front, you knew this was going to take a while but you didn’t mind.

Placing your bag and keys in your tattooing area, you went and turned on the heaters and the stereo so there was some music playing so it wasn’t completely quiet, grabbing your list you went to make sure you had everything you ordered before you started to pack it away, because last time there where a few things missing from your monthly order.

20 minutes into checking everything you heard the front door open and the familiar sound of Leon’s voice as he curses under his breath at the cold weather, as he shook some snow off his hair as he held a tray of hot drinks. You placed your list down and smiled softly walking over to him.

“thank you.” You say as you took the hot drink from the tray, you could smell the chocolate and coffee before you took your first sip, a soft hum leaving your lips. “how is the restock going?” Leon asks as he sips his own drink, he followed you into your tattooing area where most of the boxes were.

“So far we have everything on the list, which is good I just have a couple more boxes to check then I can start packing everything away.” You say as you set your drink down and grabbed your list again.

“why don’t you check those boxes and I’ll start packing things away.” Leon suggests as he came and rested his head on your shoulder, his eyes glancing over the list of items. “I can do it myself, it your day off work.” You say to him slightly stubbornly.

Leon works as a music store manager that sold CD’s, record and music instruments, his boss liked him a lot and let Leon be flexible with his hours, when he wasn’t working at the music store he was helping you out in the tattoo studio, either packing things away or being on the front desk.

“I know but I like to help.” Leon says as he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, smiling softly at his small affection, it always warmed your heart when Leon helped you out even if it was with something small. “okay, thank you.” You say giving him a quick kiss on his cheek before he went to start packing things away.

*Sometime Later*

After finally packing all your shipped supplies away correctly, you found yourself pinned against the wall with Leon’s hands holding your wrists above your head as he kissed you sweetly but need, his pierced tongue tangling with yours causing sweet moans to leave your lips. You couldn’t focus on anything else other than the touch of your boyfriends, which was causing your mind to race and your heart to beat out of your chest, feeling him pull away slightly a soft whine left your lips causing him to chuckle slightly.

“Somebody is a little eager.” Leon softly teases you eve when his blue eyes held the look of lust, want, need and desire, you could also see the warmth, affection and love, feeling his thumb and index finger softly grab your chin and pulled your face back to his kissing your slightly swollen and bruised lips, with his free hand he used it to unzip his Metallica hoodie you were wearing.

It slipped off your shoulders and down your arms with ease, falling onto the floor behind you. Breaking the kiss Leon let go of your wrists and tugged off his nirvana shirt and tossed it onto the ground beside him. “somebody’s eagerly.” You playfully tease him back causing a smile on his pierced lips, because you knew you were both as needy as each other in this moment. “only for you princess.” He says slyly as he lifted your crop off your body leaving you in just your bra and leggings.

“such a romantic.” You say with a smile as you bit your bottom lip, you could feel his pierced lips on your neck as he was leaving a soft trail of kisses on your skin, you knew there would be marks left there but at this moment you didn’t care. His kisses trailed from your jawline to your neck, to your shoulder, your collarbones then to your chest to where he started kissing lower as he sunk down on his knees in front of you, placing gentle open mouth kisses on your stomach as his fingers toyed with the waist band of your leggings.

You knew when Leon went down on you it wasn’t for your pleasure but for his own, he could do it for hours if you would let him, he always leaves you overstimulated, trembling and a mess but deep down you love it. Your fingers found there way to his dark blonde hair, it was soft and slightly damp from his shower this morning, he gave you a small grin as he placed a kiss over your slick core over your leggings making a slight blush come onto your cheeks, before he gently tugged them down.

“No panties, dirty girl.” Leon clicks his tongue, but you saw his tongue wet the bottom of his lip, you had decided to not wear panties today because it was more comfortable going commando in some leggings than it was in others, and it wasn’t like you were seeing clients today.

You could hear his tongue piercing hitting the metal of his lip rings as he admired your glistening pussy. Leon leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your clit, making a soft moan leave your lips before you spread your legs a little to give him better access, he placed one of your legs over his shoulder, his large hand supporting your thigh before his blue eyes meet yours again.

It was almost as if he was asking for permission before he touched you in any intimate way which made your heart race even more, you nodded your head trying to back the smile threatening to fall from your lips, before he dived in and feasted on your soaked core as if he was a starved man and this was his last meal, causing soft moans to leave your lips as you buck your hips slightly.

His tongue lapped at your folds, his eyes were closed in pure bliss as if he was lost in his own little world, you could feel the cool feeling of his tongue piercing jewelry and eve his lip rings grazing your soaked pussy, you could hear him humming and even grunting as he slurped softly. Reaching a hand down you gently pushed his dark blonde hair out of his face, you could see a faint blush on his cheeks as he pulled away slightly breathing heavily.

Just as you were about to ask him what he was doing, but he used his index finger and his middle finger to spread your folds. “beautiful.” He commented before he leaned forward and sucked on your clit causing a soft cry to leave your lips as a tremble ran through your body,

“Fuck Leon.” You cursed throwing your head back against the wall, as you rocked your hips against his face, he didn’t even need to use his fingers to make you cum, he knew your body like the back of his hand. You could feel the familiar feeling tightening in your stomach as your eyes rolled back slightly, your thighs began to tremble more as your moans became more whinner and slightly high pitched.

“cum for me princess.” He says against your soaked core, you could feel yourself clenching around nothing. “cumming.” You softly moaned as you came with a soft whine on your boyfriends tounge, feeling your legs get weak but Leon's hand came up to your hips as he helped steady you.

After riding out your orgasm you pulled him down to you and kissed him deeply, your tongue tangle with his you could taste yourself, but you didn’t care.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you breathing heavily there was a small grin on his face, but you could see the lust swimming in his blue eyes. “my turn.” You tell him before he could protest you sunk down to your knees, you could see the bulge in his skinny jeans, reaching up you undid his belt and unzipped and unbuttoned the front before tugging his jeans down his thighs.

You could see the small wet patch of pre-cum on his boxers, looking up you could see his cheeks burning slightly, causing a sense of power to wash over you are knowing you’re the only one that can make Leon feel like this. You looked up at him in your eyes asking for permission like he had done for you, he gave you a nod as his hand found its way to your hair to make a makeshift ponytail, to keep your hair out of your face and eyes.

You carefully hooked your fingers into his boxers before tugging them down, causing Leon’s harden cock to spring free, a soft groan leaving his lips at the cold air hit him.

Giving him a soft smile you ran your tongue up the side of his cock before you wrapped your pillowy lips around him and began to bob your head at a steady rhythm, while placing your thighs on his thighs for some stability, he was heavy on your tounge, but the weight always brought you a sense of comfort.

“good girl.” Leon praised you making a soft blush to come onto your face as you bobbed your head, he would occasionally hit the back of your throat. “feels so good.” He grunted but you would hear a high pitch whine leave his throat. You decided to suck your cheeks in causing a soft cry to leave his lips as he slightly bucked his hips as well. “your mouth should be a sin.” He softly panted his hand slightly tighten around your hair causing you to groan softly around him.

“You close baby.” You asked pulling away but you used your hands to pump his cock, you knew he was close he was twitching in your hands, he nodded his head quickly as a soft cry left his lips, taking his cock back into your mouth you pushed him as far as you could in your throat, causing small tears to run down your cheeks as there is a slight pain in your jaw, but you ignore the pain to give your boyfriend the same pleasure he gave you.

“Fuck I’m cumming.” He moaned before you felt him shoot down your throat, a soft moaning sound left your lips before you sucked in your cheeks as you slowly pulled away from him and released him with a soft pop.

He was breathing heavily with a blush on his face, Taking his hand you lead Leon could of the small supply closet to your more spacious studio area, where you gently pushed him onto the couch and straddles his waist.

His large hands immediately found their way to your hips giving them a loving squeeze, reaching to your bag on the end of the couch, you pulled out a familiar square. But ask you where about to open it Leon took it from you. “Let me.” He says taking the condom packet from you and tearing it open with his teeth,

After couple minutes of awkward moving and some giggling from you, Leon finally got the condom on without your assistants, he took his harden cock and gave your soaked core a few taps causing you to moan soft, He had applied some lube before just as a safety precaution because he didn’t want to hurt you, even if you insisted that you would be ok, he didn’t want to hurt his precious girlfriend.

“am I good to go doll?” Leon asked you as he gave your hips a soft squeeze, it always filled your heart with so much joy when Leon asked for permission for anything like this, you nodded your head biting your lip, you could see him grinning before he slowly pushed into your glistening core causing a moan to leave both of your lips at the familiar stretch as Leon buried himself fully inside you.

Wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder, a soft tremble ran through your body as one of his hands stayed on your hips to help guide your movements while the other went to back of your neck keeping your body close to his. “feel so good princess.” Leon grunted against you; his voice was deeper than normal causing you to clench around him as his thrusted up his hips.

You moved your hips slightly meeting his thrusts, moans falling from both your lips as you both lost yourselves in the pleasure of pleasing each other, your hips moving in time with his, he filled you up in way you only dreamed your fingers could reach when he wasn’t around, it was like you were made for each other. “Leon.” You moaned his name as you felt as if your mind was getting foggy and hazy from the pleasure you were both experiencing.

You moaned out loud as you rested your forehead against his, your eyes where closed and your bottom lip in between you top row of teeth, Leon’s thrusts where sweet but hard causing soft squeals to leave your throat, when suddenly you are pushed into the couch it was soft against your bare skin and your legs where now on Leon’s shoulder, but before you could protest a loud moan left your lips at the new angle, causing Leon to go deeper.

You could feel yourself tightening around him and your eyes rolling back slightly, he always knew how to drive you wild, weather it was when he would let you do anything you wanted to him, or even he was rough like this knowing deep down no matter what side it was you loved this man with all your heart even when he tells you stupid jokes from time to time.

“You close Y/n?” Leon grunted and all you could do was nod your head as you looked up at him, your thighs where trembling against him as your toes curled, at this point you knew your making up from this morning was running down your cheeks, but you didn’t care.

“cum for me like a good girl.” Leon says as he leaned forward and kissed you as he thrusts into you roughly but somehow sweetly, your moans are muffled by his lips but you cum around him with a soft cry, his praise sending a shiver down your spine, he soon followed spilling into the condom.

As you came down from both your high’s Leon pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers softly with a gentle smile; you smile up at him and softly kissing his nose.

“I love you to.” You said with a bliss filled smiled but soon the romance and sweet moment is ruined when you hear somebody clear their throat, looking over Leon’s shoulder you saw Jennifer one of your best friends and tattoo artists looking at the both of you with a smug grin on her face as she leaned against the door.

“I’m happy you guys have such a deep love for each other, but next time you decided to fuck at work can you please close the door, because I don’t need to see my boss getting screwed by her boyfriend at 11 o’clock in the morning.” Jennifer's says causing a blush to colour both yours and Leon's cheeks at her comments.

“Sorry Jen.” You say with a soft giggle, but she gave you a wink before she pushes herself off the door. “I’ll be expecting a bonus next week.” She jokes as she gives you one last look before she leaves.

Hearing her leave both you and Leon couldn’t help but laugh. “this is your fault.” You softly poked Leon’s chest causing him to laugh slightly.

“fine I’ll take responsibility this time, but next time I won’t be so nice.” He says pulling you into his chest as he pulls a blanket over you both that is usually kept on the end of the couch for when you take naps at work.

“I look forward to it.” You smirked before nuzzling into his chest, he just laughed and rested his chin on your head as you both fell into a peaceful slumber…

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!Good Enough One-shot Update!: Its coming I have only recent had the time to start it but the ball is rolling finally, I can’t give a time when it will be posted but I am working on it when I have spare time, also there will be a name change but deciding on the name now and creating the banner.

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[nerdytyrantphantom]

shattered but not lonely (joel miller x f!reader)

This is my 2nd request! Hope you love it, anon 💖

request: hey!! could you do joel x reader (maybe smut) where joel gets super protective over the reader after saving them from a dangerous situation?❤️❤️ word count: 3.9k rating: 18+ explicit warning: SMUT. reader was kidnapped by raiders and joel rescues her and they have sweet, sensual reunion sex after she heals. soft!joel, pet names ("sweetheart" "baby"), light mentions of captivity, oral (f receiving), reader gets super fucking wet, joel is very into it, p in v sex (be smart etc.) a/n: my goal with this piece was to write the filthiest yet equally loving/romantic smut possible :o) i hope you like it! also, to the anon who made this request - i have a second (less fluffy) interpretation of this prompt i plan to post in the near future :) p.s. title is from the song "my favorite book" by stars

“Joel?” you whispered. If the figure in the doorway wasn’t who you thought it was, you prayed for a quick death. 

But as the man’s silhouette approached, your breathing steadied; it was him. Despite your blurred vision from two swollen black eyes, your brain recognized the fragments that formed Joel Miller’s unmistakable presence: the broad shoulders, firm gait, and weight of his rifle slung over his shoulder. A hot wave of tears rose at the realization that Joel had found you. You were going to be okay.

Upon reaching your side, Joel sank to his knees. His battered hands carefully cupped your wet cheeks as his bloodshot eyes desperately searched yours. You’d never seen this Joel before – a Joel who was scared, whose vulnerability was laid bare – and your heart wrenched with pain at the tears threatening to spill from his own eyes. 

“Sweetheart,” he choked, like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to cry. His bottom lip quivered as his thumb gently brushed your cheek, as if he was checking to make sure that you were real, that it was really you beneath the bruises and the bloodshed. His voice cracked with sorrow, guilt seeping through every word: “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

The iron fist that wrapped around your heart squeezed knowing that Joel blamed himself. It was in his nature to take on the weight of the world and responsibility for those he loved and you were no exception. You knew Joel and understood the depths to which he would punish himself for not protecting you. In reality, there was nothing he could’ve done. But in Joel’s tormented mind, such reasoning held no solace.

You struggled for the right words to take away his burden. “It’s okay,” you assured, your hands tenderly covering his that still cradled your face. “I’m okay. I promise.” Joel saw through your forced smile, but knew there was nothing he could say. “Let’s just go home.”

Silently, Joel cradled you in his arms, holding you close against his chest. As he carried you, he felt the weight of your body relax, surrendering to the comfort and safety he provided. Your head rested against him, your breaths becoming steady and peaceful as sleep claimed you. 

Time blurred as the days passed. Hazy memories floated in and out of your consciousness — glimpses of Joel spoon-feeding you, of tenderly replacing bandages, and the featherlight touch of his lips pressing kisses to your forehead. 

Finally, one night as twilight painted the sky in shades of purple, you stirred awake. As if on cue, Joel entered the room with a glass of water. His boots scuffed the hardwood floor as he approached and set the glass down on the bedside table. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, he reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Then leaning forward, his lips pecked your temple.

"Hey there,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?" 

You took hold of his hand, bringing it to your lips, pressing a tender kiss to each  knuckle. "Better," you whispered, as though the two of you were sharing a secret. Your lips trailed up his hand, skimming along the inside of his wrist until you found yourself pulling him closer, causing Joel to lose his balance slightly as he leaned in to embrace you. 

You nuzzled into his neck, seeking the comfort that only he could provide. "Missed you," you murmured, your words vibrating against his skin, as you breathed in the familiar scent that defined him.

His strong arms enveloped you, pulling you tightly against him. "I'm right here, sweetheart," he promised, his fingers stroking your hair. "Never gonna change that." In that moment, time stood still as you both immersed yourselves in the simple joy of being together again. The outside world faded away – the QZ, raiders, the infected – and all that mattered was the warmth of your bodies and shared breaths and sighs between you.

As your lips brushed against Joel's ear, you confessed with a hint of playfulness: "I think I need a shower." 

Joel's arms gave you one final squeeze before releasing their hold. He leaned back to look at you, his eyes still filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief, as if he still couldn't quite believe if you were real. You gave him a small smile. "I'm here," you reassured him. “I’m okay.”

As you stood from the bed, a mask of determination veiled the pain that still raked through your body. Joel stood beside you, a silent pillar of support, guiding you with gentle hands to maintain your stability as you found your renewed sense of balance. Together, you made your way into the bathroom.

Joel reached out and turned on the shower, the sound of running water filling the space, creating a soothing backdrop to the moment. He stood by your side, his presence a steady reassurance as you prepared to cleanse away the remnants of your ordeal. With quiet care, he helped you disrobe, removing each piece of clothing with a delicate touch. 

As you lifted your arms for Joel to remove your shirt, you couldn’t hide the whimper that escaped your lips, a sharp burst of pain radiating throughout your spine, as he tugged the garment over your head. You tried to quickly conceal the pain, but Joel saw through your facade – he knew you better than anyone.

To your relief, he didn’t scold you for moving into normalcy too fast or decide that the shower was a bad idea; instead, he held his hand under the stream of water, adjusting the temperature to ensure it was just right. 

Then, you watched as he slowly shed his own clothes, standing before you naked and vulnerable, mirroring your own state of undress. He held your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, as you both stepped into the warm fall of the cascading water.

Under the torrent of the shower, steam billowed, welcoming you in a cloud of wet warmth. With practiced hands, Joel lathered shampoo in his palms, his fingers working their way through your hair, massaging and cleansing with a confident yet gentle touch. You observed him in silence, captivated by the sight of his muscles flexing with each movement, displaying strength tempered with tenderness. The white suds built up, creating a frothy veil over your hair, as Joel carefully lifted your locks into the stream of water, rinsing away the traces of the past.

Gently, Joel turned you around so that your back was to him, his hands lathered in soap. With the utmost care, he began to massage your shoulders and trace a path down your arms, his touch both soothing and deliberate. He lifted your arms slightly, ensuring no part of your body was left untouched, as his hands moved down your back, tracing gentle circles and washing away the remnants of your captivity. Leaning forward, resting his chin on your shoulder, he guided his hands over your stomach and breasts, the suds gliding down your body, renewing your skin. 

The moment held a sensual undercurrent, but it was devoid of pressure or expectation. This act of washing was an expression of pure love, a quiet gesture of nurturing your body back to health. Yet, even in this gentle intimacy, feeling Joel's body against yours, his hands caressing every inch and crevice of your body, a dizziness washed over you. A sense of lightheadedness and longing swirled within you, the desire to melt into his touch and be swept away.

After the shower, Joel wrapped you in a soft towel, cocooning you in its warmth. He then tenderly placed a second towel over your head, gently drying your hair, revealing your face with a renewed glow and cleansed complexion. As his eyes took in the sight of you, a mixture of relief and adoration danced in their depths, forming the first soft smile you had witnessed since your return. He leaned his forehead against yours, creating a sacred space between you.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he whispered, his voice carrying a blend of tenderness and desperation. His commitment to taking care of you was unwavering, his desire to meet your every need palpable. In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to provide solace and support, to be the anchor that would guide you through the storm.

Hugging your towel against you, you burrowed into Joel, a silent request for him to hold you that didn’t require words for him to understand. As he wrapped you in his embrace, you spoke into his bare chest, voice muffled: “You. Just need you, Joel.”

"I'm right here, baby," he murmured, his touch a comforting presence against your back. Your body stirred with a different kind of ache as you gazed up at him, a longing that transcended the physical. His soft, pillowy lips beckoned to be kissed, the scruff on his face tempting your touch. You could spend a lifetime tracing the lines and contours of his face, exploring every inch of him with a blind devotion.

Locked in his gaze, Joel understood the unspoken desires that flickered within you. Like a language only the two of you shared, he deciphered the quickening of your heartbeat, the subtle lick of your lips, and the faint furrow of your brow that betrayed both frustration and longing. He blinked, a silent affirmation that he felt it too, as he gently guided you towards the bed.

"Come on," Joel beckoned, his voice laced with a mixture of invitation and anticipation. You observed as he skillfully arranged the pillows against the headboard. He draped the towel that had once enveloped your damp hair onto the mattress, purposefully positioning it where your body would inevitably find its place. You then climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself with your back nestled against the plush pillows, your abdomen resting upon the soft towel, and the second towel still wrapped around your shoulders, offering warmth and security. 

From this vantage point, your gaze fixated upon Joel, who stood at the foot of the bed, an arresting sight that never failed to steal your breath away.

No matter how many times your eyes met his, the effect remained unchanged—an overwhelming wave of captivation that surged through your veins. This moment was no exception. His hair, still damp from the shower, was slicked back, save for a single rebellious curl that dared to escape its confines. His flushed chest glistened under the subtle glow of amber light, adorned with droplets of water that cascaded over his skin. The only barrier between you and his complete vulnerability was the white towel that draped enticingly around his waist. Its snug embrace accentuated the contours of his hips, hinting at the sculpted muscles that lay beneath the fabric, while the mere suggestion of movement threatened to loosen its grip.

A tremor of anticipation coursed through you as Joel's eyes roamed over your form, mirroring the same intensity with which you had studied his. A slow, deliberate stroke of his jaw accompanied the journey of his gaze, traveling up your legs, lingering over the heat of your core, trailing across the curves of your breasts, until finally, his eyes connected with your own. His thumb traced a path over his bottom lip, an unspoken question hovering between you.

"Will you let me take care of you, baby?" he asked, a confident plea that resonated with sincerity. He closed the distance, taking a purposeful step toward the bed, his touch grazing over the delicate skin of your foot, tracing invisible patterns.

A lump formed in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry as you nodded, your eyes conveying an unspoken affirmation. "Always," you managed to whisper, the weight of your words hanging in the air, sealing the unbreakable bond that bound you two together.

You bit back a moan as the towel wrapped around Joel’s waist teasingly fell lower, the outline of his half-hard cock rising beneath the white cotton. He then crawled up the bed between your legs until he was able to nuzzle his nose into the soft skin behind your ear. 

“That’s all I ever want,” he murmured, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. He planted a small kiss onto your skin, humming with pleasure as he grazed your neck. “To hold you,” he continued, moving down to kiss the constellation of freckles that spanned over your shoulder, “to kiss you.” 

As he continued his onslaught of kisses and pecks, you felt the heat rising within you. Finally, as though Joel could sense your desperation, he brought his lips to yours. He softly worked over them – the soft, wet sounds filling the air – before delicately swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. As you opened your mouth and permitted his entry, his warm taste filled your senses, igniting a carnal desire that only Joel could fuel. You moaned hungrily into the kiss and raised your arms to wrap around Joel’s chest to pull him closer, but then groaned as another shock of pain rippled throughout you. 

“Shhhhh, baby,” Joel cooed, resting his forehead against your own. He fought back an amused smile as he lovingly stroked your cheek and pecked at the corner of your lips. “Can’t have you hurtin’ yourself on me, sweet girl.”

Your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. You felt like your body was betraying you from what your mind – and your hormones – severely desired. 

“Just lean back and relax,” Joel coaxed, returning to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. He planted more kisses, featherlight, as he continued, “Just let me take care of my girl.”

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to relax under Joel’s direction. As you sank into the pillows, you concentrated on the touch of Joel’s mouth moving further down your body. “That’s it,” he murmured as your breathing steadied. “That’s my girl.” 

Your heartbeat quickened as Joel’s hands gently pushed away the towel you had slung over your shoulders, revealing your bare chest. With great care, Joel cupped your breasts, massaging the plush skin soothingly beneath his fingertips, while his thumbs lazily circled each nipple. As they became erect under his touch, he popped one into his mouth, suckling the sensitive skin between his teeth. 

“Oh, Joel,” you whispered, your voice both a warning and a plea. He knew what you liked. He knew exactly how to give you what you wanted. And right now was one of those moments, when he suspended the passing of time and acted as though his life’s sole purpose was purely to worship and please you. 

His tongue continued to swipe over your nipple before releasing it with a pop and moving to the next one. When you looked down, butterflies fluttered in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him; he looked so content with his long eyelashes covering his shut eyes, his nose slightly squashed against your breasts, and his lips wrapped around your nipple like he could stay that way pacified forever. 

As you melted further into the pillows, Joel’s kisses moved down your belly. “My sweet girl,” he murmured – more to himself than to you – as he reached the pubic hair covering your mound. He pushed himself lower onto the bed and arranged himself so that he was neatly between your legs, before carefully lifting your thighs over his shoulders. As you settled into the position, arousal pummeled into your core at the touch of Joel secure between your legs and your bare feet grazing the muscles of his back. 

“Sweet, sweet girl,” Joel repeated, his voice just a muffled murmur as he continued to plant kisses over your thick curls of hair. He turned his head to skim the tip of his nose over the inside of your leg, before dipping himself into the deepest crevice of your thigh, where he dragged his tongue along the crack. “My baby,” he whispered. 

Joel hadn’t even touched you where it counted yet, and already, your core was dripping. Hearing Joel’s whispers of sweet nothings, tickled by his hot breath ghosting your skin, smelling the soap and shampoo mingle with the scent that was pure Joel, and feeling his plush pillows hug you from behind – it was all building so fast to be too much for you to take. Without a second thought, you spread your legs further, exposing the slick web of arousal between your legs to Joel.

He groaned with ravenous desperation, the sound only turning you on further. He squeezed the dough of your thighs over his shoulders as he buried his nose between your folds, the sticky spread of you smearing onto his face. Your breath hitched as you felt him deeply inhale your scent, before dragging his tongue along your folds. “Give you anything you want,” he mumbled, gently gliding his tongue up and down your slit. His tongue worked lavishly against you, slowly, with deliberate movements that were in no rush. As you felt his tongue dip into every curve and crevice of your core, your fingers found their way weaving through his hair. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, wanting to buck your hips into him further but knowing your pain wouldn’t let you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head with pleasure.

Joel shushed you as he continued to lick, his scruff tickling your skin and the sensation electrifying you more. “Sweet, sweet girl,” he continued, a groan pouring from his throat as he licked up a stripe of slick that oozed from inside you. With someone else, you may have been embarrassed or ashamed by how wet you got. But Joel treated it like a gift, like he’d discovered a secret that was all his, and he never failed to express how much he enjoyed it.

For what felt like hours, he stayed like that, his fingers gently massaging the dough of your thighs while his mouth sucked and slurped every part of your core. As perspiration formed on your forehead and your cheeks began to flush, you squirmed with want under Joel’s touch. But like always, he understood.

“You ready to cum, sweetheart?” he asked, looking up at you from between your legs. Despite what he was doing, his brown eyes looked so innocent. As you eagerly nodded your head, Joel pecked up your folds tenderly until he reached your clit. “Okay, baby,” he said soothingly. “You can cum whenever you want.” And with that, he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your stomach churned at the sensation of his tongue toying with your clit like it were candy, his soft strokes perfectly brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves with kitten licks.

“Joel,” you cried, cradling his head in your hands. You felt white hot flames licking you from the inside out as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap. Heat rose into your chest and your cheeks as you fell deeper into the pillows, the cushions swallowing you whole. 

Your hips rose just an inch, and though it hurt, the pleasure far outweighed the pain. At this perfect angle, Joel continued to swipe his tongue against your clit until all at once you were seeing fireworks bursting behind your eyes, a wave of euphoria rippling throughout your body. You cried his name as tears streamed down your cheeks.

As the aftershock continued to radiate throughout your body while you tried to catch your breath, Joel crawled up so that he could face you again. His dark eyes were blown out, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your slick. You whimpered as you watched him greedily lick his lips.

“Thank you,” you choked, wiping the tears that streaked your face. Joel kissed your face and hummed with content. “Still want you, though,” you sniffled, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. “Want to feel you inside me.”

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed in a mix of pain and arousal. “Are you sure, baby?” he asked, breath hitching, as your hips rose to grind against his. His towel had since fallen off and now you could feel it, his hard length begging to be buried inside of you.

You nodded confidently. “I’m positive,” you assured him, nosing into his neck. You nibbled his skin, the perfect button you could press to get what you wanted that would drive Joel crazy and whispered, “Please. Want you to fill me up.”

Joel groaned at your words; there was no way he could argue with you, and he didn’t want to. He fisted his cock in his hands and guided the tip along your folds. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he commented, his eyes staring straight into yours.

You stroked his cheek and nodded, licking your lips. “All for you,” you promised him, studying every scar and scratch that etched his face. 

You watched as his jaw fell slack as he pushed himself in, his entire cock filling you up with ease. You moaned instantly. Joel was accustomed to the way you’d mewl for him to fill you completely. He knew how much you loved his cock – the length, the girth, the way it filled you to the hilt – and he could read it on your face every time he had the chance to enter you. As his pubic hair came to brush against your clit, his cock completely sucked inside you, he murmured into your ear: “That’s it, sweetheart. S’all yours.”

As your moans grew louder, Joel pistoned himself deeper, maintaining a steady pace that wasn’t too fast or too slow, but just enough to savor the sensation inch-by-inch. Your nails dug into Joel’s forearms, too weak to wrap around his back, as you clung to him with desperation. “Joel,” you whimpered, not knowing what to do with yourself underneath them. The pleasure was building quicker than you had anticipated. “Joel, I–” you started to say, before sinking your teeth into his arm. You clenched tightly around him as he continued to thrust inside you. 

“Can you cum again for me, baby?” Joel whispered sweetly, holding your chin in his hand to make you look at him. His eyes searched your red cheeks, furrowed brows, and watery eyes. As you desperately nodded your head, Joel’s lips frowned. “Yeah?” he asked, stroking your chin, unable to resist just a second of teasing. 

But before any frustration could build inside of you, Joel’s hand was between your bodies and his thumb was drawing circles against your clit. “It’s okay, baby,” he encouraged, his own words struggling to come out of his mouth as his jaw became slack watching the pleasure wash over you. As your face contorted in pleasure, the coil in your belly threatening to snap for a second time, fresh tears began to roll down your face. Joel shushed you and kissed them away. “It’s okay, baby, it’s all for you,” he said, his words gradually coming out through gritted teeth as he fucked you deeper. “All yours, baby, every part of me.”

All at once you broke, crying out as a second seismic wave of pleasure erupted in your core and rippled throughout your body. As you gushed around Joel’s cock, his pubic hair drenched and the wet squelch penetrating the room, you felt his movements grow sloppy as he burrowed into your neck. Then he was emptying himself inside you, his warm cum seeping out of your aching hole. 

He allowed himself to collapse beside you, careful not to hurt you, his sweat-slicked chest panting. His hand skimmed your chest, cupping your breast, while his face nuzzled into the other one. “My baby,” he murmured, kissing over your areola. He nuzzled into you more. “Never gonna let you go again.”

[elixirfromthestars]

Here For You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

Summary:  After being injured on a mission, you try your best to hide it from the team to continue fighting alongside them. However, one very perceptive super soldier makes hiding your injury an impossibility.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning(s):  mentions + description of injuries / a bit of hurt—comfort / does not follow the canon timeline in the mcu / mentions of near-death encounters (from civilians) 

requested by @marigoldreamer

a/n: hello everyone! i started off on here as solely a Bucky writer, but it seems like i cannot get enough of Steve when I write about him ✨ this originally was much shorter and then I got carried away lol (which is one of the reasons why it took so long to get out, sorry 🥲) thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! ❤️❤️ feedback is much appreciated! ❤️❤️

birthday bingo masterlist 💙 // main masterlist 💙

“Oh, that does not look good,” you muttered under your breath, grimacing at the sight of your swollen skin. You were standing in front of your bedroom mirror, your shirt lifted, exposing the bruise coloring the area around your ribcage. You knew you had injured yourself on yesterday's mission, but you avoided visiting the infirmary, not wanting Friday to alert the team of the extent of your injuries. 

You knew it was bad—the persistent discomfort you felt with every breath you took told you so. However, the team was already spread scarce with multiple threats around the world, so they needed everyone available. 

The team couldn’t afford you not being available right now.

So although your body was telling you desperately it needed attention, you decided to push through the pain and help out as best as you could. You had a meeting with your team in about half an hour, so you had until then to figure out how to lessen the after-effects of your injury—and how to hide it for the time being. 

You went into your closet and scanned the rows of clothing searching for the perfect item. You ended up choosing an evergreen knitted sweater. It was big enough to hide something underneath it without raising suspicion—which is exactly what you needed right now. 

Lifting the sweater over your shoulders and through your arms caused an excruciating raw ache to reverberate within your chest with every movement. You mitigated your motion to lessen the toll this simple task was taking on your body. 

You didn’t want to think of how your condition could worsen within the field. 

You pushed those thoughts into the back of your mind and with your sweater on, you made your way over to the kitchen in the Avenger’s compound. Thankfully, no one was there to question why you were taking out a small bag of frozen peas from the freezer, wrapping it in a hand towel, and placing it under your sweater. 

You flinched at the sudden change of temperature, but quickly eased into it as it numbed your injury. This would have to do until you could sneak into the infirmary later and get your hands on painkillers. Then you could properly rest from the nagging discomfort in your lower chest. 

You interlocked your hands and lightly hugged them to the injured area to keep the frozen peas in place. Rarely did anyone ever show up to the team meetings early, so your next step was to get in there before everyone else and then ultimately leave after everyone else with no one noticing a thing.

A simple task of course. 

You made your way down the hallways of the compound slower than usual. You avoided making brisk or swift movements as it caused your chest to constrict more than it was capable of, causing a shooting jolt to go through you. Every time it did that you had to suppress a string of coughs that only added to your pain. 

At this point, your mind ruminated on the thought of you potentially not being able to make it through the meeting. It was a doubt that was now weighing heavy on your shoulders.

When you finally made it to the conference room, the beeping of a screen caught your attention. Taking a quick peek inside, you notice Steve is already there. He was tapping away at the large presentation screen, getting mission reports together for the meeting. 

Well, this just got a bit complicated.

Steve is a super soldier—a highly perceptive super soldier. He was going to notice your presence sooner or later, so you needed to get into the farthest seat from him before he noticed. This would be the seat at the other end of the table from where Steve was standing. Thankfully, this seat was a quick dash away. 

A quick painful dash away. 

Steve opened up a file on the screen and a video of a building falling to ruins began playing. The audio of the destruction echoed in the room and you took this chance to scurry over to the seat. You plopped yourself down just as the video finished, almost rolling away with the wheels of the black office chair. Your hands scurried to keep the frozen peas hidden beneath your shirt. 

Due to your injury, your movements across the room weren’t gracious. You had fumbled as you plopped down onto the seat causing your chest to contract and tighten more than it should have. This ignited a burning sensation to burst within your chest. You inhaled sharply before biting the inside of your lip as hard as you could to stop yourself from making any further noise. 

Steve’s head shot back to look at you in confusion.

“ Y/n? Everything okay?” Steve’s brows were furrowed, as he slowly turned his body around to face you. You cleared your throat before answering, “ Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just shocked at the destruction of that building. What happened to it?” You changed the subject of the conversation to something that wasn’t you. 

Steve’s eyes stared into yours for a few seconds before answering,“ I’m not sure yet. We received this video from the CIA and we’re being sent there to investigate. They think it was an attack by one of the terrorist organizations that worked closely with Hydra.” He finished explaining, his brows relaxing from their furrowed state. 

Steve handed you one of the mission reports before placing the rest in the middle. You opened the file and pretended to look through it. In reality, you were adjusting with one hand—as quietly as you could—the frozen peas beneath your shirt in a better position since the bag had slipped away from the injured spot when you sat down. It was now chilling your stomach, leaving your injured spot unattended to. 

“ Y/n, are you sure everything’s okay?” Steve was looking at you with a puzzled, yet concerned gaze. He was standing only a chair or two away—a little too close for comfort.

You locked eyes and paused for a moment to think of what to say. Steve was your team’s captain and your close friend. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, you could trust him. However, trust in this case meant him taking you out of the field at a time when the team needed you most.

As you were contemplating on what to tell him, Sam, Bucky, and Natasha walked into the room bickering over what to order for lunch. Their entrance saving you from having to answer Steve. He shot you a quick look letting you know this conversation wasn’t over. 

Now you would also have to find a way to evade any future conversation about your well-being.

“ So, Bucky and I are craving some Japanese food right now, but Nat wants Greek food. What’ll it be guys?” Sam explained their current predicament as they all approached the table. The three of them stared back at you two in anticipation. 

“ Greek sounds nice,” Steve replied, sauntering over to the front end of the table. Natasha smiled in amusement as the voting was now at a tie. She sat closest to Steve while Sam and Bucky sat across from each other in the chairs directly to your left and right. Their proximity consequently causing your nerves to spike up. 

“ It’s up to you to break the tie. Don’t let me down, Y/n.” Sam pleaded in a lighthearted manner. If you were completely honest, appeasing your appetite was the least of your worries. However, your body was begging for some warmth as the frozen bag continued its icy attack on your skin. You thought maybe eating something right now wasn’t such a bad idea. 

“ Sorry, Nat. Sorry, Steve. Some miso soup sounds really good right now,” you smiled at Sam who basked in this small victory. Bucky was beaming beside you as well. Natasha playfully scoffed and shrugged at the loss while Steve put his hands up in a playful surrender. 

“ I knew we could count on you,” Sam turned to you and gave you a friendly pat on your shoulder. This caused a stinging prick to shoot through the left side of your chest. You winced, a small yelp escaping your lips.  

Everyone froze and stared at you worriedly. “ Are you okay? I didn’t pat you that hard did I?” Sam asked guilty, taken aback by your reaction. You shook your head profusely, “ No, Sam, it’s okay—I’m okay. It’s just I got a sunburn on one of our last missions and it still hasn’t healed fully.” You lied through your teeth, giving everyone in the room a reassuring smile. 

Everyone looked relieved—except for Steve whose suspicion you assumed was getting stronger by the second. 

“ Sorry about that, I didn’t know. My Titi always swore that soaking in a cool bath of baking soda and oats would soothe any degree of sunburn. You should try it,” Sam suggested. His thoughtfulness warmed your heart, “ You’re fine, Sam—really. I’ll have to try that out and let you know how it works out.” You send him another reassuring smile. You mentally cursed yourself for your outburst. Another slip-up like that and anyone on the team was sure to find out about your injury.

In no time, Sam was ordering everyone food and Steve began debriefing you all on the next mission that you all had to leave for in a couple of hours. You weren’t paying attention as the stinging in your chest worsened. The frozen peas beneath your shirt had melted and were adding to your discomfort instead of aiding it. By the time the meeting ended, and Sam told everyone to meet up in the kitchen for lunch, lifting yourself off of your chair felt like an impossible task. 

Everyone had gone off to eat except for Steve and you. Throughout the whole meeting, you felt his eyes watching you. You avoided looking in his direction and focused solely on the files and the screen behind him the entire time. You felt if you had looked into his pretty blues at any point during the meeting, your resolve would have crumbled. 

“ This time I’m not going to ask. I know you’re not okay and I know it has to do with yesterday. We need to talk about what happened last night,” Steve’s voice was gentle, yet serious as he approached you. The exhaustion of suppressing your pain was getting to you and his presence brought you much-needed comfort. Your determination to act like nothing was wrong was slipping away from you with every passing second.

“ What—do you mean?” your voice broke, swallowing hard to find the courage within you to admit you needed assistance. Steve took the seat next to you, “ Last night when we were rescuing civilians from the burning rubble, you went into the collapsing building against orders,” he reminded you. 

“ And saved the three people who were trapped inside,” you added. He sighed, his lips forming a tight line, “ Against orders. The instructions were that I was supposed to be the one to get the trapped civilians inside—not you,” his tone was heavy with frustration. 

You shook your head, “ You weren’t going to make it in time. I was the closest one. As soon as you arrived the building collapsed completely. If I hadn’t gone in they would have died. I might not be a super soldier, but I can do my job pretty damn well, Steve. ” You were getting defensive, feeling as though your abilities as an Avenger were being questioned. 

While your actions may have been defiant, they resulted in three lives saved. That had to count for something.

“ I’m not doubting your stance as an Avenger. You are amazing at what you do and we need you here. But that gets put into jeopardy when you jump into dangerous situations without thinking and get yourself hurt,” he further explained, your eyebrows shooting up at his words. “ All of the situations we jump into are dangerous,” you pointed out.  

His eyes narrowed, his exasperation at your stubbornness growing, “ We don’t bargain our lives out in the field, Y/n.” His tone was disapproving, making you feel like a scolded child. Irritation crawled its way up your spine. This coming from Steve of all people made it even worse.

” Okay, Mr.I-jumped-on-top-of-a-grenade-to-save-everyone,” you shot back at him. Steve would constantly make self-sacrificing calls on the field to save other people. Why was it okay for him to do it, but not you? 

“ That was different,” was all he managed to come back at you with. 

“ In what way?” you asked, curious to know the real answer. 

“ Well for starters, it was a world war. The mentality of everyone at that time was different. In the beginning, I was outcasted. No one worked as a team with me. The only person alive who cared for me was miles away on the battlefield. It was everyone for themselves,” he paused reminiscing the past with a solemn look before continuing, “ We’re a team here, Y/n. There are people here that care about you. We look out for each other and keep each other safe. That’s how it's supposed to be,” he stated with sincerity. 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts and let the weight of his words sink in. Steve had opened up about his past to you before, but the way he spoke of it now gave you a deeper perspective on things. 

“ I’ll stop if you do,” you proposed, tired of the arguing and understanding where Steve was coming from. A small smile fell on his lips,“ Okay, it’s a deal. Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary so Friday can scan the extent of your injuries.” He stood up bending down slightly offering his shoulder and arm as support. 

You reached out and let him take the brunt of the effort of getting you out of the seat. The more you leaned on his support, the less it took a toll on your own body. You kept one arm on his shoulder and the other on the now-melted bag of peas beneath your sweater as you lifted yourself off of the seat. The slight twist of your torso intensified the pain within your chest for a second before mellowing out to its usual tempo. 

Steve couldn’t hide the emotions behind his intense stare. His voice and touch were gentle, yet strong in the way they guided you out of the room. He was doing his best to keep you calm but by the look on his face, you could tell your injury had to be more serious than you previously thought.

The walk to the infirmary was easier with Steve by your side. When you arrived Steve helped you prop yourself onto one of the infirmary beds, calling out for Friday’s assistance. He then went over to one of the storage cabinets and grabbed a few white pillows to place behind you. He adjusted them so you could sit in a position that was easy on your injury. 

“ How’s that? Does that feel alright?” Steve asked as a blue robotic arm scanned your body. You nodded in appreciation,“ It’s perfect, Steve, thank you.” He sent you a small smile, his eyes still reflecting a worrisome look. You took out the melted bag of peas from your sweater and unraveled it from the hand towel. Steve let out a small chuckle of disbelief at the sight of it. 

“ What? I’ll have you know this little bag was a lifesaver,” you informed him. Steve’s eyes twinkled with amusement, his smile getting wider, “ Oh, I bet it was. You’ll have to explain to Nat why her Olivye salad will no longer have peas in it though.” 

Your eyes went wide, “ Oh no.” 

He held in a laugh, “ Oh yeah.” 

Friday’s Irish robotic voice suddenly spoke up interrupting the two of you,“ Body scan complete. Moderately bruised ribs detected. Rest is recommended for the next three to six weeks or until the injury is completely healed. Medication is on its way.” She informed you of your diagnosis causing you to let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding. For a moment there you thought you might have fractured your ribs or maybe even bruised your lungs. Those injuries were more severe and so was their treatment. However, having to rest for the next three to six weeks wasn’t ideal either. 

“ Steve, I’m so sorry. I didn’t listen and now I’m out of the field for weeks and I know the team was counting on me—” Steve interrupted your rambling by placing his hand on yours, “ There’s nothing to be sorry about. Our job is dangerous and this kind of stuff happens all the time. If anything, I should be the one that’s sorry.” You frowned not only confused at his words but also at how comforting the sensation of his hand on yours was. 

“ Sorry about what?” you tilted your head, unclear of what he meant. 

“ I'm sorry I wasn’t able to protect you,” he clarified, his voice full of regret.

Your mouth opened to form words, but nothing came out. Why would Steve be sorry about that? Did he shoulder the responsibility for everyone’s well-being because he’s the captain? Did he feel this way about everyone on the team? Your thoughts jumbled together, causing you to be unsure of what to think. 

“ Steve, please don’t put this on yourself. I made a call against your orders and while I did save a few lives, I took a hard fall, injuring myself in the process. There’s no need to worry or care beyond that. I’ll be fine,” you couldn’t take his crestfallen expression and did your best to dismiss your current situation. Steve was not happy about that.

“ Don’t say that. We all care about you—I care about you. I worry about you and I hate seeing you like this. I feel responsible for not protecting someone who means a lot to me from getting hurt,” there was a vulnerability in his voice that caused your heart rate to elevate and your features to soften. A new sensation was inching its way into your heart, and his words yielded you to see him in a different light. 

“ Steve I…” you trailed off not knowing what to say. Steve gave you a shy smile,“ You don’t have to say anything,” he removed his hand from yours and grabbed the bag of peas from beside you, “ I’ll go take this back to the kitchen and get you that miso soup you really wanted.” He left the room, giving you a chance to process what was going on. 

There was always something about Steve that was different in the way you interacted, but until a few minutes ago you had never thought of the possibility of Steve seeing you as anything more than part of the team. You were always partnered up on missions and got to know each other on a deeper level than you had with any other Avenger. Apart from a few playful exchanges here and there you had always assumed Steve only saw you as a friend. 

Not to mention he had a history with a CIA agent named Sharon, and you genuinely believed they would end up together. The thought of Steve having feelings for you was never on the table. 

Except now it was and that caused your feelings toward him to emerge from a place you didn’t know they had been hidden.  

Two red robotic arms appeared on your left, breaking you from your thoughts. One arm was holding a small cylindrical tin with a couple of pills and the other held a cup of water. You took it eagerly and consumed the medication hoping the pain would subside enough to get some sleep. You barely got any last night and the sleep deprivation was starting to get to you. 

Steve came back into the room, moments later, as the medication began to take effect—along with its side effects. 

“ Hey there…” you greeted Steve in a sluggish voice. The medication had increased your drowsiness, making it harder to stay awake. He approached your bedside, a bowl of miso soup in his hands, while Friday updated him on your current state. 

He placed the bowl on the nightstand next to the bed,“ Hey there, sleepyhead. Guess the miso soup is going to have to wait. Get some rest, the food will be here when you wake up.” You tried nodding as your eyes fought to stay open. Your mind was clouding, but what was clear to you was that you didn’t want Steve to walk away again without telling him how you felt.

“ No, don’t go, please,” you pleaded, your hand reaching out to him. He looked at you fondly, finding your actions endearing. “ I have to go soon, Y/n. I have to prepare for the mission before we leave in under an hour,” he explained to you. You yawned, your fatigued state making it harder to understand what he was saying. 

“ You can’t because I have to tell you…” your eyes were starting to close.

“Tell me what?” Steve asked you, entertaining this conversation a little longer. He couldn’t hide the affectionate grin you provoked on him.  

“ I have to tell you…” this time your voice was only but a whisper. If Steve hadn’t been a super soldier with heightened hearing he might’ve missed it. 

“ Get some sleep. We can talk later, okay?” He assured you, a softness in his tone you hadn’t heard him use with anyone ever. As much as he was enjoying this, he was adamant about you getting your rest.  

You lazily shook your head,“ No…you have to know how much you mean to me too…” you managed to coherently mumble fighting off the heaviness of your eyelids. Steve was pleasantly surprised by your response, his pulse quickening as yours had done in your previous conversation. 

This time he needed a moment to figure out what he was going to say. To know that maybe even a sliver of the feelings he felt for you were returned in any way was more than he had hoped for. He wasn’t sure how you felt about him, and while Bucky and Sam had profusely encouraged him to ask you out on a date, there was always something stopping him. The fear of ruining the friendship you two have was enough to hesitate from ever confessing anything to you. 

However, if what you said was true, then maybe he should be completely honest with you. 

He gathered his thoughts, taking a deep breath ready to speak them to you. That was until he realized you had fallen asleep. The time he took thinking was all you needed to drift off into a peaceful slumber. 

He laughed at himself, although albeit a bit relieved he would be able to have a heart-to-heart later with a more conscious you. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to pour his feelings out to someone who might think it was all a dream when they woke up. 

“ Sweet dreams, Y/n,” he whispered into the air, planting a small kiss on your forehead. He then exited the room and that afternoon while on the mission he was more enthusiastic than usual. This caused the rest of the team to speculate on the reason why. 

Interestingly enough all the reasons why involved you.   

Unbeknownst to him, your dream that same afternoon had revolved around a handsome blonde and blue-eyed super soldier. 

It was a very sweet dream indeed.  

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

14/16

<<< previous part

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Big thanks to my girl @formulaforza for not only making one of the edits for me but for beta-reading and helping me make this chapter as good as it can be. Love u ❤️ x

*************************************************

It was uncomfortably warm when you arrived in Spain, humid and sweaty and sticky - you still hadn’t managed to pull what Max and the others had planned out of your boyfriend.

Charles had whined half the morning when you refused to hold his hand that day, clammy palms, you claimed, but in reality you were hoping to sneak into the Ferrari hospitality as discreetly as possible.

You trudged through the paddock with your head down, cap covering your face as you head towards your driver’s room. Sometime before dawn, the PR team had sent over the press conference schedule.The FIA had decided to torture you, putting you alongside the four men who hadn’t publicly defended you from the harassment. They didn’t even know that privately, three of them were fully on your team, so it definitely felt like the sport’s governing body had resorted to bullying.

“Cherie, you’ve barely spoken to me this morning,” his voice was soft, a hand on the small of your back as you stepped inside. “Talk to me.”

“Did you see who they’ve put in my press conference?” Your tone matched his, lifting your eyes from the floor. “I think the FIA are on the side of the dickheads, trying to get me to leave.”

He frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Because. Why else would they put me in a room with four men that they think hate me?” A soft huff left your lips as you chucked your bag down on a seat as the two of you stepped into the privacy of your room - Charles shutting the door with a gentle click. “It’s just plain nasty. As far as they know the four of them think I don’t deserve my seat.”

“Well.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re going to kick themselves when they learn the truth.”

You frowned. “What truth? I don’t know what I’m walking into this morning…”

“Trust me. It’s going to be okay.”

You want to believe him, but it’s terrifying going into what would mostly likely be a room full of men who were expecting you to be absolutely tortured by your rivals. You knew the boys had good intentions but not knowing what those intentions were made your stomach flip. Instead of responding to Charles, you gave him a hasty peck on the lips before heading out to said media duties.

It was still fairly quiet around the paddock - not too many people flaunting their VIP passes this early in the weekend, so it was easy to slip through without too much hassle. You’re only stopped once by a group of girls who were all very kind and only asked for autographs. “I can’t believe they’ve put you in a press conference with those little bitches. How hard is it to put out a post saying they support you?”

Your cheeks flushed a soft pink. “It’s kind of hard to explain but Max, Pierre and Esteban do have my back they’re just… I don’t know, I know as little as you.”

“Well, best of luck, y/n. We’ve got your back if you need to teach them a thing or two.” One of them grinned.

Moments like this reminded you exactly of why you wanted to be a driver in the first place. You wanted to be the woman that others looked to for inspiration. You tried to remind yourself of this when a small gaggle of men leered at you as you continued making your way to the conference. They didn’t matter. They’d never matter. And if you were about to walk into a meeting with no back-up then you’d have to remember who exactly you were fighting for.

For the little girl who was watching her very first race, squished between Mum and Dad on the sofa and seeing someone like her amongst the 20 best drivers in the world.

For the teenager who hid under her sheets at 3am to watch races just to see her idol cross the line and wish that maybe it could be her one day.

And for all the women who never got the chance to race, believing they’d never be able to - finally seeing a woman achieve greatness in a sport that was supposed to be just for men.

You do it for them, for all of them.

You took a deep breath before stepping into the holding room. Immediately, four pairs of eyes were on you. You held your head high, not even sparing a glance towards the ones you considered friends. Just as Max was about to cross the room to speak with you, the door to the press conference swung open and the five of you were ushered into the room.

Max squeezed past you so you were sandwiched between him and Pierre on the sofa. You decided not to question it, just sitting down and taking a deep breath.

Let’s just get this over with.

“Let’s just start by saying Fernando, Esteban, Pierre, Y/N and Max - thank you all for joining us nice and early this morning.”

The five of you all gave various hellos to the room, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat as all of the eyes seemed to be on you. You knew exactly what kind of questions were coming - why else would they have put you in the room with these specific drivers if the debate of you being in the sport wasn’t about to be raised once more.

“We have seen a recent influx of negative responses about y/n being on the grid.” You sat up straighter - prepared to defend yourself. “Most of the grid has shown their support, but the four of you have remained quiet. Of course you don’t owe y/n defence but Max, Pierre and Esteban you’ve raced alongside her since you were children. So is there a reason you’ve chosen to remain quiet?”

“We have something to say actually.” Max cleared his throat. “I know we have disappointed people, especially our female fans, for not speaking out in support of y/n. But the three of us believe that putting a post on instagram is simply not enough. It wasn’t a big enough statement.”

Pierre watched your brow furrow as you listened to Max - he knew the words that were about to come out of the Dutchman’s mouth were going to shock you. He wanted to reach out and put a comforting hand on your shoulder but it would draw too much attention so he simply kept a watchful eye on you.

All eyes in the room followed a member of the Red Bull team as they crossed the room and handed Max a piece of paper. You didn’t get a good look at it before he started to read it.

“As a direct consequence of the FIA’s failure to take sufficient and decisive action in protection of driver 30, Y/n L/n, from the violence and harassment faced since the public reveal of driver 30’s identity, a coalition of drivers have signed a petition.” Your eyes burr into the side of his head, but he doesn’t dare look up from the page. “Led by drivers 1, 10, 16, and 30; Myself, Pierre Gasly, Charles Leclerc, and Esteban Ocon, a total of fourteen drivers have agreed to protest the Spanish Grand Prix, including all media duties, free practices, and competitive sessions, until appropriate measures have been taken to protect driver 30, and any other driver, from life-threatening behaviour. The drivers participating in this protest are as follows; drivers 1, 55, 44, 63, 16, 3, 4, 31, 10, 22, 5, 18, 24, and 77. This statement is being formally filed with the FIA immediately following the conclusion of this press conference. The official outline, along with the signatures of all 14 drivers will hopefully be made public by the FIA. If Y/n wishes to continue taking questions, she is free to. The rest of us retain the right to no comment if we so choose.”

The silence in the room was palpable - no one spoke a word as Max handed the piece of paper to you so you could read the names on the petition. You couldn’t even focus on the words, the room becoming a blur. Protest the race?

“The FIA only has so much power over what people post online, surely you cannot protest a race over that?”

“We are aware of this, but y/n was physically assaulted in the paddock. This should have never been a possibility.” Pierre spoke up next, you blinked hard a couple of times to bring yourself back into the room - your facade you’d put on had been blown, so confused by the fact the grid wanted to protect you so intensely. “The FIA have taken absolutely no action at all after the assault. Should’ve been the first thing they did.”

“Y/n, you look taken aback by this statement. Do you have anything to say?”

You lifted your eyes from the petition to see the entire room staring at you. “I uh… I don’t have words to describe how grateful I am. I tried to talk the guys out of doing anything drastic but the fact that so many of them are willing to stick their necks out to stand up for me like this? I… I’ll forever be in debt to them.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that they’ll all risk being fined while you have no consequences?”

Max could see your jaw visibly clench and he prepared himself for the worst. “Are you serious? How was I supposed to sign a petition that I didn’t even know existed? I never asked for any of this… if they protest the race, you bet I’ll be with them.”

“We actively chose to not tell y/n about this petition as we knew she would ask us not to do it.” Esteban leant forward as he spoke. “It would not have been fair of us to put this on her shoulders with all of the stuff she’s already dealing with.”

You gave him a gentle, sincere smile before finally taking a moment to read the names on the petition. Some of the names weren’t so shocking but others such as George and Yuki were pleasant surprises. There was only a small handful who hadn’t and you couldn’t help but smile, a stray tear escaping at the fact this grid of men - who had nothing to gain - were willing to face fines and penalties to ensure your safety.

“Well, we eagerly wait to see how the FIA responds, best of luck this weekend. To all of you.”

As soon as you stepped back into the holding room you threw your arms around Max and hugged him tight. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“It had to be drastic to get them to listen.” He chuckled, hugging you back.

“I hope you all know what you are risking.” Fernando finally spoke up after sitting in complete silence for the entire session. “All of this to stop some bullying? It is far too much.”

Esteban scoffed a little. “Do you really think the FIA aren’t going to take action when they see the current and former champions aren’t going to race? Even if they don’t believe in what we are protesting for, the amount of money they stand to lose from this is enough of a threat.”

The two teammates stared each other down, the tension palpable. You hoped Esteban was right, ideally you didn’t want any of the boys to get in trouble for you.

But now it was all in the FIA’s hands.

*******

(Credits to Mack for this ❤️ thank you again)

*******

[Simon Lazenby] -“Hello everyone, welcome to Spain just ahead of Free Practice One. I’m Simon Lazenby and today I’m joined by Martin Brundle, Naomi Schiff and Nico Rosberg. Bit of a strange one here today ladies and gentlemen, isn’t it? Well, I guess we better jump into the biggest news to break this weekend - most of the grid have signed a petition and will currently not be racing or performing media duties this weekend. What do we think?”

[Martin Brundle] - “I have to be honest Simon, I do think it’s all a bit of an overreaction from the drivers. We all get critiques through our career whether it be in person or online, so I think y/n should just get her head down and crack on. The fans came to see a race, it shouldn’t be put on hold just for her.”

[Nico Rosberg] - “I have to disagree with you there Martin. What y/n has been put through since her reveal is unprecedented. We as a sport should be celebrating the fact that a woman is one of the twenty best drivers in the world and I think the drivers standing up for her is wonderful to see.”

[Naomi Schiff] - “I agree with you Nico. None of you will ever really understand what it’s like to be a woman in motorsport - we are held to a much higher standard than any man would ever be.”

[MB] - “But don’t you just think, as a two time champ, that she should have a strong enough head to be able to see past the criticisms?”

[NS] - “It’s not just criticisms, Martin. It’s physical violence and hate speech. Any minority in this sport whether it be y/n, Lewis, Yuki or Guanyu will always have people critiquing things they cannot change about themselves. Sure, someone may have called you a bad driver back in your day, but no one has ever told you to get back in the kitchen or go back to where you came from.”

[SL]- “Branching off from that, as you said, other drivers have received hate speech in the past. How would you all say y/n’s situation is any different?”

[NR] - “Being Lewis’ teammate and even as kids, he went through things similar to what y/n is going through. I think the biggest difference is, we didn’t have someone like Lewis to really show us how wrong it was that he was being treated so differently. Y/n is luckily in an era where she is surrounded by drivers who can see just how important it is to her and female fans that they don’t let things like this get off lightly.”

[NS] - “I think it’s important that the FIA take more protective action for all of our drivers. It is just a shame it’s taken most of the grid threatening a protest for the conversation to even take place. Y/n is a two time WDC and it feels like that has all been forgotten just because she’s a woman - it’s about time that the governing body of the sport take things like this more seriously.”

[SL] - “Now onto the drivers who aren’t protesting the race. We have Fernando Alonso, both Williams drivers and both Haas drivers. Now we have spoken to both Williams and Haas respectively and they say it is a purely financial decision not to let their drivers protest but they stand in solidarity with y/n and the rest of the grid. But Fernando is a bit of a different story.”

[MB] - “Fernando’s very old school. Very level headed about dealing with your criticisms - I guess the same as me. So it’s no surprise that he is not partaking in the protest.”

[NS]- “It is a shame as he is one of the most prolific drivers on the grid but I think the message will stay clear with Lewis, Sebastian and Max all taking a stand this weekend.”

[SL]- “Thank you all. Coming up next, hopefully following some affirmative action from the FIA this morning, is Free Practice One. Stay tuned.”

****

****

You tapped your foot nervously against the floor as you waited to hear The FIA’s decision. They unsurprisingly had a very quick turnaround of how they were going to respond to the protest and now the fate of the grid was fully in their hands. They could choose to do nothing and everyone takes a fine or they could actually respond.

Charles sat beside you on the sofa, his hand coming to rest on your knee to stop your leg from bouncing. “It’s all going to be okay, y/n. They can’t not do something… there’s only 5 drivers currently racing, the fans would be outraged if that’s what they paid to see.”

“It’s just a lot. I'm just not sure what they can do,” you said, voice meek. You lifted your eyes to meet his gaze. “Like if people want to hurt me they will, y’know?”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple. “They have to do something, I’m sure it’s all going to turn out okay.”

Attention was swiftly stolen as the door slowly opened - a small man with a clipboard entered with an unreadable expression on his face. “Can you all please follow me?”

The sound of 15 pairs of footsteps scuffling out of the room echoed through your head, Charles’ warm hand on the small of your back - the heat of his touch seeps through your Ferrari polo. The 15 of you were sat around a boardroom table facing the president of the FIA and half a dozen other high ranking members. It felt much more like they were sentencing you than opening a conversation.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you locked eyes with the man who was about to decide the fate of the grid.

“Thank you all for meeting with us on such short notice. We hope what we have come up with is a solution that is both suitable and protective for both us and all of you so we can get this resolved quickly and avoid any more of the race weekend being missed.”

It was like he rehearsed the informality of it all, trying like a gentle parent to get down to your level before scolding. You see right through it, through him, through this whole smoke and mirrors show.

Charles linked his hand with yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwined against your skin calms you, steadies your half-rapid breathing. You looked at him, studying his profile for just a brief moment before remembering where you were.

“Any assaults, physical or verbal, performed by any individual at a Grand Prix towards any driver or personnel will immediately be banned indefinitely from any sports and events governed by the FIA. As much as we would like to do more about online harassment, that is much out of our hands - we hope you understand. We will put out a statement saying that we do not tolerate hate speech of any kind.”

Your eyes flickered across the room to gauge the reaction of your rivals. They hadn’t told you what they wanted from the FIA but, to you, it seemed like more than enough. Not only did it protect you but it also covered everyone else. You weren’t leading the protest, though, so in the end it wasn’t up to you. “May we have the room?” Sebastian was the one to break the silence, as one of the leaders of the GPDA he wanted to give everyone the time to collect their thoughts and discuss, rather than having one of fifteen feel that they could speak on behalf of everyone.

The president nodded and the men escorted themselves out - everyone’s eyes fell on you. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“…what do you think?” Max asked.

“I didn’t start the petition,” you held your hands up defensively. “It’s not up to me.”

George frowned. “Surely you have an opinion though?”

“Of course I do,” a soft sigh left your lips. “But at the end of the day it’s you guys who are sticking your necks out. If you think this enough then say it is. If it’s not, say it’s not.”

Max gave you a gentle smile, placing a hand on your shoulder as he stood up. “As much as I’d like for them to take more preventative action rather than reactive - I think it’s the most realistic solution and I’m ready to end the protest.”

“Everyone agree? If so then I can get them to write up the decision and we can all get back to doing what we love best, right?” Sebastian hummed, trying to dissipate some of the tension in the room.

A chorus of agreement echoed through the room and you felt like you could finally relax. It had been the longest few hours of your life and as grateful as you were for all of these men to have your back - it would be nice to put it behind you and not have them get in any more trouble.

After the formalities were all done and dusted, a final consensus reached between the drivers and the FIA, it was over. You were finally able to watch them all get back in the cars and do what they all do best.

The next few days felt like a blur, between being ushered from interview to interview about the protest and putting your best foot forward during your time in the car - you barely had a moment to breathe. But after Ferrari achieved a 1-2 start during qualifying, it really felt like the weekend had started over fresh.

“You ready?” Charles approached you on the starting grid, his helmet dangling from his fingers.

You gave him an excited smile. “Yeah, I’m so glad everyone gets to race. I was worried there for a second.”

The softening of his gaze made your heart skip a beat. With his free hand he reached up and cupped your jaw in his hand - brushing a thumb across your skin. “You’re worth it…”

As he lent in, you felt your breath catch in your throat but just before his lips met yours he ducked to the side to whisper in his ear. “But I will beat you in this race, Cherie.”

“I’d like to see you try.” You teased, placing a hand in the centre of his chest to push him back. “I’m on pole for a reason, no?”

“Touché. Bonne chance.”

This time he did kiss you, only for a moment - but long enough to ignite the adrenaline inside you before stepping away to get ready for the race. You shook off the nerves before hopping into the cockpit, anxious to get going.

A small part of you felt a little guilty that you’d qualified ahead of these men who’d helped you but the championship came first. You had to start pumping out results if you wanted to win and knowing now that the FIA was doing their part to protect you - you could focus on what’s important.

And as the green lights began to flash you took one more deep breath before focusing on the clear road ahead.

Somewhere, a little girl’s eyes are glued to her television screen, to your helmet and the infamous red car. For her, for all of the versions of her, it was time to win this race.

******

Next part >>>

Sorry for the delay on this one! Writers block hit me hard 😭 hope you enjoyed! One more thank u to @formulaforza for helping me, couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

Want to be notified when I post? Join our discord, head over to #reaction-roles and click the sunflower 🌻

[daisies-daydreams]

Hello, I love your work and I wanted to request one. Were the reader is on a mission with 141+könig. And ghost gets jealous because könig likes her. But ghost wants her all to himself so he makes sure her scream his name. Where everyone can hear who she's belongs to. (Hopefully this makes sense and thank you for taking the time to read my request).❤️

I Wanna Be Yours (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader) Pt. 1

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Swearing, Jealous!König, Jealous!/Possessive!Ghost, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie, Implied Voyeurism Word Count: 3.9k+

A/N: Hello! 🤗 Thank you so much for your request! I've been thinking of writing more jealous!COD for a while. I apologize this took me longer than normal to write. Reader’s call sign is "Teddy".

Song Rec: I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys)

Part 2 (18+)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Dusk hung over the small Norwegian safehouse, a blanket of snow resting over the crests of the valley. You, Ghost, Soap and a collaborative operator with 141, König, were lounging in the living area. The lieutenant's body ached, his muscles beaten and raw with bruises. Ghost grunted as he stretched out his sore limbs and cracked his neck. He smiled when he watched your jaw drop.

"Damn, Lt. Got a Rice Crispy stuck in there?" you teased. Ghost's shoulders raised with a silent laugh.

"You're quite the cheeky little thing, you know that?" he huffed as he pointed at you. You sighed.

"Only for you," you swooned while batting your lashes dramatically. Soap grinned knowingly while König observed you carefully. Ghost eyed the giant man. Though polite and often reserved, the lieutenant couldn't help but notice the Austrian’s eyes lingering on you from time to time. The thought made his skin crawl ever so slightly. You stood up and popped your back before walking into the small kitchenette area.

"I don't know about you all, but I'm in the mood for some hot chocolate. You boys want some?" you asked, your voice sweet and dripping with honey.

"Always," Soap said.

“Yes,” Ghost replied.

“Ja, danke,” König said with a nod. Ghost and König glanced at each other, then back at you. Soap rose from his chair, a grunt escaping from him as his hand gripped his ribs.

"Be right back. Need to see a man about a dog," he said. Your laugh reverberated across the walls as you flicked on the stove.

"Thanks for giving us that vital information," you chuckled.

"Anytime!" Soap called back. He eyed Ghost before making his way to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Ghost turned his attention back to you. König’s made use of his long legs and came to your side as soon as Ghost rose from his seat. The lieutenant heard a clear 'pop' when he clenched his jaw. You grinned as König grabbed the hot chocolate powder and handed it to you. His fingers slipped over yours carefully.

“Thank you,” you smiled. König nodded, scratching the back of his head.

“Of course, Katzchen,” he cooed. Ghost felt the sting hit him again, the venom seeping straight into his bones. He caught König glaring at him, the silence saying everything.

“Back off”

You hummed as you filled the kettle with water then placed it on the stove. Ghost sighed, his eyes never leaving König’s massive form as he made his way into the kitchen. He opened another cabinet.

“Looking for something, Lt.?” you asked. His eyes flicked over to you.

“I just like my hot chocolate with milk. Thought they'd have the powdered kind here," he replied before shutting the cabinet door with a shrug. You nodded. The water inside the kettle began to hum and bubble.

“I think it's better with milk, too,” you agreed. Ghost smiled beneath his mask. König stepped closer, looming over you.

“I enjoy it that way as well,” he added. He and Ghost locked eyes again, holding their stare as you were focused on trying to get the cups from the cabinet above you. Ghost stepped forward, cutting the other man off. His hand braced your upper back as he reached up, grabbing four cups. You blushed as he brought them down onto the counter.

“Thank you,” you said softly, averting his gaze. Ghost nodded, his rough hand still glued to your back.

“Welcome, Teddy,” he lilted, making sure to place a gentle emphasis on your call sign. He grinned beneath his mask as he looked up at the towering man. König seemed more tense, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He slowly slid his hand off of you, letting it trail down before slipping his palm off your hip. Their eyes never left each other as you continued to hum.

"It sure is a cold night," König commented. You nodded. Ghost raised a brow. "I'm glad you're helping us warm up a little, Katzchen," the man continued. Your smile faltered slightly, taken aback by his words.

"Oh, it's not big deal," you waved. Ghost felt all of his muscles tense as König leaned down to your ear, whispering loudly enough for him to hear.

"Would it be alright if I helped you warm up some more after this?" he muttered. The kettle began to steam and whistle, the noise piercing through the kitchen. Ghost's eyes widened, as did yours. Your mouth snapped open, face flushing deeply as you failed to form words. Ghost suddenly found his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to his chest.

"That's enough," he snarled. The door to the bathroom swung open. Soap stepped out and raising his brows when all three heads turned sharply towards him.

"Did I come at a bad time?" he asked half-jokingly. You closed your mouth before turning back to the kettle, setting it down on a mat. Ghost's hand slipped away from your shoulder as he eyed the towering man near him. König raised his chin up before slipping towards you.

“I apologize for my forwardness, Schatz," he murmured.

"Bullshit," Ghost hissed internally. Your shoulders tightened as you poured and mixed the drinks. Your lips remained sealed as he cleared his throat.

"I suppose the stress from today is getting to my head," he shrugged. Your eyes scanned him carefully as you set the spoon aside.

"It's alright, Kö. I think that mission did a number on all of us," you stated. He nodded, taking two of the cups into his large hands.

"Here, let me help,” he soothed. You smiled.

“You won't hear any complaints from me,” you shrugged. König purred before making his way to the table. You trotted behind him, leaving Ghost to follow you. Soap was already seated at the table, drumming on the nicked, wooden surface. His eyes brightened when you handed him a cup.

“Ah, somethin’ to distract me from these old, aching bones,” Soap hummed before blowing on his drink.

“You’re not that old,” you teased. Soap scoffed.

“What do you mean by 'that', hm?” he quipped. Both of you narrowed your eyes before snickering. Ghost raised his mask above his lips and lifted the rim of the cup to his mouth. He caught you eyeing him as he swallowed the drink slowly. All of you made small talk, though he kept his eye on König from time to time. Your drinks were slowly drained as the sun finally dipped past the horizon, a quiet darkness settling over the frigid valley.

“Did you guys take a shower yet?” you asked. Ghost hummed as he pulled his mask back down. König scratched his chin.

“I don't believe we have,” he sighed. Both of the men were unflinchingly resolved to remain in their chairs. You looked back and forth between them.

“Well don’t trip over each other,” you snorted. Ghost would’ve chuckled, but his heart felt like it was sinking into the hot pit of his stomach. König slightly shook the table with how furiously he was bouncing his leg. The silence was deafening, tension so thick one could cut it with a knife. Ghost cracked his neck again, his fists tightening on the table. König ceased bouncing his leg. The lieutenant felt a small burst of triumph when the other man slowly rose to his feet.

“I’ll be back,” the man murmured lowly, his hand brushing across your shoulder as he passed by. Ghost gripped his cup, nearly crushing it in his hand. Soap yawned, stopping himself before he stretched his arms above his head.

“Well, as fun as this evening's been, I think I’ll turn in for the night,” the Scotsman sighed. He said goodnight to both of you before walking down the hall. A heavy silence settled in the kitchen. You cleared your throat.

“I guess I’ll head to bed, too,” you said. Ghost nodded, helping you wash and dry the empty cups. He slid the last one back into the cabinet, closing it quickly. Your eyes were soft and cheeks dusted with pink as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side.

“You okay, kid?” Ghost asked. You parted your lips then closed them. His breath hitched as you came closer. You were silent, eyes averting his steady gaze. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s alright. You can-“ he was cut off when you swiftly lifted his mask and smashed your lips onto his. He grunted, his hands falling to your hips as he leaned into the kiss. Your eyes popped open before you backed away, your hands pressing against his chest. Your entire face was beet red as you opened your mouth.

“Shit. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ It was his turn to cut you off, his mouth swallowing yours in a tender embrace. You moaned softly, letting him dip his head to deepen the kiss. Your mouths melted together, time stopping as you held each other close. You gasped for air when both of you pulled back. His chest rose and fell, heart threatening to burst. He cupped your cheek with his hand as he leaned to your ear.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded wholeheartedly, taking Ghost's gloved hand. He chuckled as you led him into your bare room. You nearly jumped when Ghost quickly slammed and locked the door. His head was spinning, heart thrumming as he turned back to you. You stood nearby, shifting your thighs together as you looked up at him with blown pupils. His cock twitched as he watched you writhe with heated arousal. He exhaled through his nose as he stepped forward, cupping your chin beneath his hand. He stroked your soft face before closing his eyes and diving down.

Your lips interlaced as you hooked your arms around his thick neck. His dog tags jangled as he sighed. Ghost’s hands came down to your waist, his palms resting on your hips. You gasped when he licked small, warm strokes near your mouth. He felt you smile as you parted your lips. He groaned as he plunged his tongue into your sweet mouth, the taste of sweet chocolate still strong on both of your tongues. Your tongue danced with his as you backed up, taking him with you. Your back gently landed on the wall. It felt like an eternity before Ghost pulled away. The crisp air filled his lungs as he gazed at you half-lidded. You smiled up at him, your hands smoothing over his shoulders.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he muttered. Your eyes widened.

“Really?” you blinked. He nodded, his lips wet with a mixture of your saliva and his. You jumped up and captured his lips again. His cock strained in his pants as you practically devoured his lips. Ghost loved how large your pupils were as you looked up at him.

“Me too,” you confessed with a wide, coquettish grin. He swallowed a lump in his throat, not knowing how much longer he’d last.

“Teddy-(Y/N),” he faltered. You held your breath, your breasts pushed out before him. His words were at the cusp of his lips, just there. He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck, I just...” Ghost finally snapped, pinning you to the wall. You gasped, your hands gripping his taut muscles as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck, his hands trailing up and down your sides. You squealed when his thigh fell between your legs. Ghost grunted as you bucked your hips upward, moaning at the friction.

“I’m yours, Ghost. I wanna be yours,” you keened as his tongue lathed across your neck. Ghost bit over your pulse before pulling his leg back.

“Call me Simon,” he husked lowly. You nodded, brows knitted together as his hands slid beneath your shirt. He squeezed your plush tits, making you sigh.

“Simon,” you breathed. Goosebumps broke out across his skin when his name left your soft lips. Ghost hummed as he kneaded your breasts, his lips back to sucking dark spots across your pulse. You leaned into his touch, your thighs clenching together as he massaged your chest. He suddenly pulled away, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

“What’s wrong?” you frowned. Ghost licked his lips, his mind drowning in a thick pool of arousal. You squeaked as he grabbed your hips, squeezing them harshly.

"I just...fuck," he growled, his hips jutting forward. Ghost was never one who was renowned for verbally expressing his every whim. Your cheeks were nearly blood red as a guttural moan erupted from your throat. "I just can't hold back anymore, lovie," Ghost spoke, his lips dancing over your ear as he rutted into your clothed eat. You gasped and gripped his shoulders. "You don't have to if you don't want, but-" You leaned up and bit his bottom lip. He grunted as you rolled your hips into his hard length. His fingers dug into your waist as he met your pace.

"I wouldn't want anything more right now," you keened. He groaned as he grabbed your lips with his, his tongue back to exploring your sweet mouth. He felt your pulse race as he guided you towards the bed. You backed away, a glint in your eye as you rolled your shirt over your head. He drooled at the sight of your tits bouncing down. He snatched your wrists just as you grabbed the top of your pants.

"May I?" he asked. You bit your lip and nodded, gazing down at him with drunk, half-lidded eyes. He dipped his head down, capturing one of your breasts in between his puckering lips. You mewled as he took one of your nipples between his teeth. Ghost loved how you arched your back when his other hand came up to tweak your free nipple. He lapped at your areola, flicking it with his warm tongue.

Your hand came up, bracing the back of his head. He groaned as he tugged at your pants and panties. You wiggled your hips, helping him pull them down before stepping out of them. Ghost continued to suckle on your plump breast while you fell back onto the bed, carrying him with you. He smiled, his mouth coming off your tit with a wet 'pop'.

“You doin' okay, love?” Ghost asked. You licked your lips.

"Y-Yes," you sucked in a sharp breath as he didn't wait a millisecond before switching over to your other mound. You whined as you raised your hips, bucking them into nothing. He made a small noise before caressing his hand down your abdomen, landing just above your pussy.

"If you need me to stop, just tell me," Ghost said quickly. You nodded, raising your hips. He kissed your tit before dipping two of his fingers over your hole. The dark-eyed man looked back to you, waiting to see any signs of discomfort.

“Please, Simon,” you gasped.

Ghost began to press kisses and bites across the valley of your breast while he experimentally swirled his calloused thumb around your button. You cried and quickly covered your mouth when he drew slow, tight circles around your clit. He tilted his head up when he heard your muffled moans.

“Don’t hide from me, (Y/N),” he growled. You nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“Y-Yes sir,” you gasped out. He smirked at the military etiquette that slipped past your lips.

“Good girl,” Ghost hummed before placing a deep kiss over your clit. The moans and pants that fell from your mouth was the most beautiful solo Ghost had ever heard. He swirled his tongue around your nipple as he plunged his two digits into your soaked entrance. His cock throbbed painfully as he spread you open with a loud squelch. Your legs clamped down on his arm as his thumb drew small, tight circles around your button.

“Fuck, Simon,” you mewled as you pinched your hard nipples. He felt you shake as you locked eyes, his mouth suckling on your tit tenderly as he thrusted his fingers at a slow pace. Your sweet nectar dripped down his digits, coating the inside of his palm.

“Pussy already feels so good-fuck, can’t believe what I’ve been missing out on,” Ghost murmured as he curled his fingers upward. You whined, hands flying around his neck as you smashed your lips together in a sloppy kiss. Your hands clumsily found purchase at the base of his neck, gripping at the material of his balaclava. He did mind the sting of his hair being pulled one bit, savoring the sounds of your gushing pussy, the feeling of your walls clinging onto him for dear life.

“K-Keep going,” you hiccupped. Ghost groaned as he flicked and circled your clit more feverishly, his fingers pistoning into your cunt. Your brows furrowed as you fell back, your fists coming down to grip the sheets. Just as he felt your cunt tighten around his finger, he slipped it out. Your head snapped up, confusion and frustration laced in your features.

“Simon?” you asked. Ghost shuffled back, wiping his face of your arousal. You raised yourself to sit up on your forearms, watching him as he stripped. Your eyes looked like they were about to pop out of your head as his dick sprang free. He chuckled, pumping his cock in his white-knuckled fist as he climbed on top of you. He sighed, admiring the way your hair fanned across your face, highlighting your beauty.

“Can't wait to spread you open, love,” Ghost drawled as he spread your legs, admiring his wet handiwork. You bit your lip and wiggled beneath him.

“Please, fuck me. Use me,” you whined, drool dribbling past your lips. He grunted, hands rubbing your inner thighs.

“Don't worry: I will. But first, I need to ask a favor of you,” he whispered as he lined himself up to your aching hole. You sighed, waiting for his answer. Your hands flew up and grabbed his shoulders as he began to sheath himself inside, his tip kissing your entrance. You gasped as he gently grabbed your face, lowering his face so your eyes met perfectly. “I need you to scream my name when you cum on my cock,” he rumbled. You nodded, lips squishing before he let his hand travel down to rest near your shoulder.

"But, what about-" He pressed his thumbs to your lips. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes as he rubbed at your plush mouth. You opened it slightly, allowing him to press the pad of his digit on your tongue.

"Nevermind the boys-I just want to hear you," Ghost lilted. You nodded before he slipped his thumb back out, letting it fall onto your clit. Ghost smiled calmly as he pressed his forehead to yours. He was mesmerized by the way your jaw went slack as he breached past your entrance, your pussy squelching as he inched himself inside of you.

"So fuckin' tight," he growled. Your mouth was shaped into a perfect "O", a high-pitched moan erupting from your lungs and cascading through the room. He couldn’t help but groan at the way his head kissed your cervix as he bottomed out inside you.

“Oh God,” you cried, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. He allowed you to adjust for a moment.

“You hurtin’, sweet thing?” he murmured softly. You shook your head.

“N-No, feels so good-so full,” you sighed. He grinned, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

“God, you're so perfect. Pussy wrapped around me so tight” Ghost grunted as he gave a few shallow thrusts. You moaned, thrashing your head with his miniscule movements that drowned you in a pool of bliss. He groaned before he slowly pulled out, the tense, warm hug of your cunt slipping away. His spine felt like jelly as he slowly sank back into your wet cavern. Ghost's free hand came to rest by the side of your head, his cock twitching inside your walls as he drove into your gushing heat. Despite wanting to pound you into the mattress, he wanted to take his time with you, to make sure you would be covered head to toe with a mind-numbing euphoria. You whined as he rubbed your slick bundle of nerve. Ghost huffed when your gummy pussy clamped down on his cock.

“So pretty, sweet thing,” he cooed, his languid thrusts growing more rapid as he pistoned his cock into you. You arched your back, your walls fluttering around him. Ghost could’ve sworn he heard heavy footsteps outside the door, but he didn’t care, too pussy drunk to even give it a passing thought.

“Simon,” his name fell from your lips like a mantra as your hole opened up for him. The headboard of the bed banged against the wall as he grabbed your legs in a tight grip. You wailed as he pounded into you, his girth stretching your hole wide open. Ghost’s pupils were blown as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, your arousal coating his veiny length and dripping onto the sheets.

“Come on, baby. Come on,” Ghost snarled as he slammed his dick into your cunt, the head of his cock grazing your g-spot with every eager thrust. Your moans began to grow into a grand crescendo. The knot inside of him was winding tighter and tighter.

"Cum for me-cum for your lieutenant," he growled with a hard snap of his hips. You squeezed his shoulders roughly as your eyelids flew open.

“SIMON!” you howled as you threw your head back, your pussy violently convulsing around his thick length. He watched in awe as you unraveled beneath him, your face etched with pleasure as you contracted over and over again. You silently shook as he rode you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he gritted his teeth as he felt your walls getting turned to mush. You gripped his muscles.

“Inside!” you cried. It was only a few more thrusts before Ghost’s body became rigid. You gasped as he filled you with his load, his hot, thick cum painting your swollen cervix. His orgasm cascaded over him like an all consuming fire, burning him to the core. Ghost gasped for air as he steadied himself. You looked just as fucked out as he was- eyes blown and face red with the afterglow. Your pussy squelched as he slowly pulled his cock from your slick walls. He pecked your lips.

"How you feelin', lovie?" Ghost asked. You blinked up at him tiredly, your legs stretching out comfortably.

"Good, so good," you breathed. He chuckled, gently pecking your nose, then cheeks, then lips again.

"Good. Did so well for me-takin' all of me like I knew you would," he praised. Your face flushed at his words. He looked around for his t-shirt. Ghost wiped the cum and arousal that spilled from your leaking hole, his other hand massaging circles into your leg. You sighed as your eyelids fell down. He cocked his head to the side, smiling warmly. Ghost went to stand up, but your hand fell onto his wrist.

“Stay, please,” you requested softly. His heart melted at your sleepy, gentle voice. His lips found purchase on your temple.

"Just gonna turn off the light. ‘M not going anywhere," he reassured. You nodded and gave a small grin. Ghost flipped the switch off before turning back around, finding you fast asleep. He chuckled quietly, crawling beneath the covers and pulling you into his chest. You nuzzled into his rugged, scarred body, sighing in your sleep. He kissed the top of your head before he closed his eyes. Ghost couldn't help but smirk, knowing how your loud moans and the sound of your wet sex rattled the walls.

There's no way König would be sleeping tonight.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[eringobragh420]

DIFFERENT KIND OF KNIGHT (pt.2) - DAMIAN PRIEST x f!OC

💜 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!OC/ Finn Balor x f!OC 💜 Summary: Annabel is caught cheating on Finn with Damian. Now she must deal with the aftermath. 🛑 Warnings: Angst. mention of infidelity 💜 Word Count: 3.9k 💜 Notes: This is the continuation (part two) of Getting Caught. It'll be a multi-chapter story featuring an OC. ❤️ Thank you so much to @femdisa for reading through a portion and offering her valuable feedback. ❤️ MASTERLIST ❤️ 💜 Taglist: In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here!

It wasn’t difficult convincing Finn to leave dinner early. He took one look at her face, the blood drained from her cheeks, her round, glassy eyes, the way she seemed to be unsteady on her own feet, and asked if she needed to go. She could only nod, clutching at her abdomen as her stomach rolled and sloshed, and Finn stood instantly. He apologized to their friends as he wrapped an arm around her and helped her toward the exit. Don’t look back, she told herself. Don’t do it. So of course she did, glancing subtly over her shoulder at the moment Damian returned to the table. He noticed who was missing and looked up, meeting her gaze. He couldn’t do much else without giving them away, so he simply nodded before collapsing into his chair and scrubbing his hands over his face. She felt that ice pick again, chipping away at what was left of her heart.

Finn helped her into the car, and she felt like the worst girlfriend in the world, maybe even the worst person in the world. It was a miserable sentiment, but she would never deny that it was exactly what she deserved. She could complain about Finn all day, everything he did or didn’t do, and none of it would justify sleeping with one of his closest friends, and however he chose to react when she told him what she’d done would be appropriate, and she would accept whatever the outcome might be.

“Annabel?” Finn asked, snapping her out of her reverie. She looked at him. “Do ya think it was somethin’ ya ate?”

She didn’t understand the question, so decided to ignore it. “Finn, we need to talk,” she all but vomited the words.

Her boyfriend glanced at her wearing a lopsided smile. His blue eyes flashed like lightning as the street lights passed. “Talk about what?” he asked, still smiling. So beautiful, so ignorant.

Annabel gulped. “Um … I don’t know—” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Better to just rip the bandaid off. “Finn—” Christ, it hurt just to say his name. How the hell was she going— “—I’ve been sleeping with Damian.”

Finn’s cobalt eyes were on the road when she confessed, and he looked back at her, so obviously ready—and clearly wanting—to laugh at her terrible joke. His attention went back to the road for a split second before he was focused on her again. He did this several times, handsome smile fading more and more until it disappeared completely. He shifted in his seat. “What did ya say?” he asked.

Her mouth became arid and her heart was pounding so hard it was like one long beat. “I’ve been sleeping with Damian,” she repeated, this time adding, “I’m so sorry.”

The vehicle came to a slow stop at a stop sign, a low squeak echoing off the neighborhood houses. Finn looked at her, and she swore she saw The Demon flash across his face. “You’ve been fuckin’ Damian?” he pressed.

Annabel didn’t care much for his choice of words, but she accepted that she deserved hearing them. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m—”

“For how long?” His voice was steadily rising. “When did it start?” She should have known he might want answers to these questions, but here she sat, utterly speechless. “What, suddenly ya don’t hear me?”

“A year,” she replied. “It’s been a year. Finn, I’m so—”

“Sorry, right, yeah, I heard ya,” he interrupted, and she sealed her lips. They were still stopped at the intersection, not another car in sight. “So what do ya want me to do, Anna?” he questioned. “I’m just supposed to forgive ya? Because ya told me the truth?” She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. “And why did ya tell me? It’s been goin’ on for a year and I had no fuckin’ idea, so ya could’a just kept right on fuckin’ each other.”

Annabel looked at Finn, the tears that had been building now cascading down her contoured cheeks. She sniffed. “Rhea caught us,” she muttered.

Finn nodded, chuckling mirthlessly. “So not because ya felt bad or ya regret it,” he sneered, “but because ya got caught.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, wiping at the tears on her face and neck. Fuck, I’m even worse than I thought. “Yep,” she whispered, welcoming the numbness from earlier as it overwhelmed the self-loathing threatening to consume her.

A terrifying quiet gripped the inside of the SUV lasting only several moments, but feeling like years. Finn’s piercing eyes slowly slid to her, and she knew better than to meet his gaze, but it was instinct that made her look.

“When did she catch ya?” he growled.

More tears formed, quickly tumbling out of her eyes, and she didn’t bother trying to clear them away, knowing a flood was imminent. “At the restaurant,” she murmured.

Finn inhaled deeply through his nostrils. He sat still for a moment before his hand crept to the door handle where he pressed the unlock button. “Get out,” he ordered, surprisingly restrained.

She’d expected him to be furious and she’d expected their relationship would likely end, but she hadn’t considered that he’d just kick her out of the car. Of course you didn’t expect that—you’re a selfish bitch. She wanted to plead her case, beg for him to let her grab some things from their place, along with her own vehicle, but why did she deserve any of that after what she’d done? She looked at Finn, tears still falling, and he kept his eyes forward, both hands clutching the steering wheel white-knuckle tight. She nodded, grabbing her purse, and she climbed out of the SUV. As soon as she closed the door, Finn took off, tires squealing and smoking, and she watched him go, deep down wishing he would turn around, and even further down, knowing he wouldn’t. 

Annabel stood on the sidewalk next to the stop sign, watching Finn’s car until it made a turn and was out of sight. Numb body now on autopilot, she retrieved her phone from her purse and opened her contacts. As she scrolled through names and nicknames and businesses and bosses, she came to the slow realization that anyone who might have picked her up in this situation was a friend of Finn’s. All of her friends had been friends with Finn first. After suffering a devastating knee injury in her first and only WrestleMania match several years before, she was told she would never wrestle again. Upon hearing this news, Hunter, one of WWE’s executive producers, offered her a job behind the scenes, but on the NXT brand at the time. Since all of her friends had been on the main roster, she eventually lost contact with them. It was about that time she’d been hurrying backstage, immersed in an email on her phone, when she’d literally run into one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life.

Shaking her head in a failed attempt at physically jostling the memories from her brain, she focused again on her contacts. Family would have been there in a heartbeat no matter how despicable a person she was, but they were 3,000 miles away. She scrolled several times past the one name she knew would help her because she worried this would be the one time he didn’t answer her call. After a brief moment of consideration and the shedding of more tears, she tapped his name with her thumb and slowly raised the phone to her ear.

Damian answered after only one ring. “Hey.” She blinked, taking a deep breath, and she cupped her free hand over her mouth as a sudden urge to cry out overpowered her. The memory of Damian’s confession came crashing through her already delicate mind and she thought she might pass out. “Bel?” Oh, god, don’t call me that. Not that. Not the nickname I love the most that only you have ever called me.

She collapsed against the metal post of the stop sign. “Damian,” she wept, removing her hand just enough so her speech wasn’t muffled, replacing it immediately after.

“Where are you?” he asked, and a second later she heard car keys jingle. “Are you at home?”

“No,” she replied, lifting her hand again. “I’m at a … stop sign …” She looked up at the street names and read them off. There was silence on the other end of the line.

“He left you by some stop sign?” Damian growled.

“Damian, please,” she sobbed.

“Alright, alright. I’m on my way. I’ll be right there, okay?”

Annabel was only able to nod before tapping the button to end the call. The true gravity of the situation threatened to crush her as she waited. She and Finn had been a special circumstance, Hunter had told them, reminiscing about his early relationship with Stephanie, so he’d agreed to look the other way as long as she and Finn’s relationship didn’t interfere in any way with work. And it never had. Until now—because surely Finn would tell someone about what she’d done. And if things weren’t complicated enough, she’d involved Damian Priest. Depending on how everything played out, they all three could end up fired. Thanks to her. 

“Well done, Annabel,” she sniffed, wiping away more tears. “Well done.”

Her feet were screaming by the time Damian arrived. The heels she’d begged Finn for had certainly been made with looks in mind and not comfort. She heard Damian’s sleek black sports car before she spotted the headlights, and her brain was briefly paralyzed by the memory of the time she’d ridden Damian’s dick while he sped down the highway at well past the legal limit, both of them giggling like children, moaning like pornstars. One of the most dangerous, exciting, and sexiest times of her life had happened in the very vehicle that was approaching her now. Why are you thinking about this right now? How does any of this matter right … now? 

“Are you okay?” Damian asked, rounding the front of his vehicle. He was still in the black slacks and black button down he’d worn to dinner, and she wondered if he’d left the restaurant to come and get her. What had he told their friends, if anything? What had Rhea told them? Had Finn already called or texted them to let them know he’d just found out his girlfriend was a slut? “Bel?” He reached out for her, and her body stiffened. She couldn’t let him touch her. Not now. Probably not ever again. He held his hands up, nodded, and opened the passenger door for her. She hobbled over, dreading the height of the curb she was going to have to descend before she was able to climb into the car. As she was about to take the plunge, Damian extended his hand to her, and she took a long, painful moment to consider her options. She could try it on her own and risk a sprained ankle or she could just hold on to the tall Puerto Rican’s hand for the few seconds it would take her to get inside his car.

She decided on taking his hand and regretted it almost immediately. I’d marry you tomorrow, she heard him say in her fracturing mind. I can’t breathe when we’re not together. Why had he confessed in the first place? Why the hell had he done it right after they’d been caught? And why the hell had she seen so many beautiful things when she’d looked at him? Swallowing bile, she all but tumbled into the passenger seat, Damian’s hand squeezing hers as if he could provide any sort of assistance, but she wasn’t allowing him any closer than he already was. She swept her much smaller fingers easily out of his grasp, and she glued her eyes to the floorboard until Damian finally closed the door. While he passed in front of the headlights, her fingers fumbled as she unstrapped the heels from her feet and then laid them neatly across her lap. A shaking nail scraped along the sparkling crystals as her mind played a reel of the day she and Finn had been shopping and she’d spotted the shoes. She’d be the first to admit she’d acted like a child—stamping her little feet and begging her boyfriend to buy them for her—but he’d relented with a smile, that beautiful Finn Bálor smile, handing the cashier a credit card before kissing Annabel on the cheek.

“Bel?” 

She jumped, clutching the heels. The car was moving, and she didn’t remember leaving the stop sign. Realizing someone had spoken her name, she found Damian in the driver’s seat, glancing between her and the road just as Finn had done after she’d told him her deepest, darkest secret, and sent their lives into an irreversible tailspin. “What?” she asked quietly.

“I asked where you wanted me to take you,” Damian replied, his voice like smoke on velvet, and had she just stubbed her toe, she’d have found comfort in it. 

“Oh.” Her eyes fell. “Um … the nearest hotel, I guess.”

“I’m not taking you to a hotel,” Damian said.

“Damian—”

“Forget it, Annabel. I’m not leaving you alone.”

Alone. That’s all she had to look forward to. She’d have to look for a new place to live—alone. She’d be traveling alone. She’d be staying in hotel rooms alone. She’d grow old alone. She’d die alone. And the legacy she would leave behind would be that of a cheater.

“Well,” she sighed, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Then I’m taking you back to my place.”

“Damian—”

“Please, Bel? You can have the bed, I’ll sleep in the living room.”

She couldn’t deny the appeal. No need to venture into public and try to act like her life wasn’t falling apart. But most of all, she wouldn’t be alone. This might be her last chance not to be alone, and she felt her eyes tingle like she was about to cry, but no tears came. Had she actually cried them all or was she desensitizing as a coping mechanism?

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The remainder of the ride to Damian’s place was silent. Annabel cradled the heels, all the while playing the night over in her mind. How did neither of them lock the door? They’d always been so careful. They took risks, of course, but there were always precautions including locking the fucking door.

Damian pulled into a space outside his apartment building. She took a deep breath and opened the passenger door, barely getting her feet out before Damian was there. He reached for the heels in her hands and she snatched them away, hugging them tightly to her body. For the moment, they were all she had of Finn. He’d bought many things for her, but they were all at the home they’d shared, and she wasn’t sure if she’d get any of it back. They’d been gifts, but did she really have any right to them now? Damian gazed at her for a moment, and she refused to meet his eyes, so he closed the car door, and she followed him inside on bare feet.

She’d been here before, and she remembered feeling comfortable and safe, despite the infidelity she’d been committing, but now, all she felt was dread and shame. She glanced at the life size Batman in the corner of the living room, feeling the natural urge to make fun of him for it like the first time she’d seen it, but she forced those urges into the very pit of her stomach with a hard swallow. She looked at the black sofa recliner near the wall where she would sleep—there was no way she was going to let Damian give up his bed for her—and she wondered if he even had spare blankets and pillows. It was a lovely apartment, expensive, decorated with superheroes because Damian Priest was nothing if not an overgrown child, but it was only one bedroom. She wasn’t even sure he had a different comforter set than the one she’d always seen on his bed. 

The two of them stood awkwardly in the living space, Annabel clutching her heels, Damian with his hands on his hips. She kept her eyes on the floor—that’s where they were the safest—as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. They were still sore from having stood on an empty street corner with not but a stop sign to keep her company.

“So,” Damian started, clearing his throat, “you know where the bedroom and … everything is.”

“I’m just gonna sleep in the chair,” Annabel said, kneeling to place the heels on the gray hardwood floors beside the sofa as if they might shatter should she be careless with them. Like she’d been careless with her relationship with Finn, and it had so shattered as a result.

“Bel—”

“Damian,” she interrupted maybe a little more aggressively than she’d anticipated, but the man stopped speaking just the same. “It’s been a long fucking night. I don’t wanna sleep in your bed, I wanna sleep in the chair. Okay? Is that okay with you? And can you please stop calling me Bel?”

“Alright, okay,” Damian tossed over his shoulder as he headed down the hall. He returned a moment later with a blanket and pillow, setting them on the sofa. “And I got you these.” He held up one of his band t-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts. “I doubt the shorts will fit you, but—”

“Thanks.”

“If you need anything—”

“I know where your bedroom is,” she replied, and the implications alone almost made her retch.

Damian took an apprehensive step toward her, her body became rigid, and he backed up. He looked at her for a moment, which she could only tell out of her peripheral vision because she still forbade herself from linking her eyes with his, and then he turned and headed for his room, hands in his pockets, head down. Did he feel bad, she wondered? Was he filled with guilt? Regret, maybe? Or, considering his earlier revelation, was he happy they’d been caught? These thoughts led her to one final question, and she buried the inquiry deep within the wrinkles of her brain, hopefully never to be considered again.

After changing out of her dress and into the t-shirt Damian had provided—the shorts were too big and far too long for comfort—she hugged her knees to her chest and laid sideways on the recliner, head on the armrest. She had no expectations of falling asleep, but as soon as she permitted her eyes to close, she was not only sleeping, but dreaming. Nightmaring, rather. The Demon was chasing her through an empty neighborhood, the heels on her feet making it all but impossible to run efficiently. Damian was there, standing at the end of the street, and she sprinted in his direction, knowing that as soon as he saw The Demon, he’d take off running himself and stop him from ever reaching her. But he never moved. She screamed his name, but nothing came out. Damian extended his arms, and she was only feet from him, launching herself off the ground and into his arms. But The Demon had an arm around her waist and he wrenched her back, further from her destination, from where she was supposed to be. 

Annabel woke up as she tried screaming Damian’s name again, thankfully making no sound in reality either. Her heart pounded, her throat was dry, and her entire body thrummed, forcing her out of the recliner. She paced for several moments, trying to control her breathing, but her lungs were completely offline from the WiFi in her brain. Alone. She’d thought wrong about being able to handle being alone. Her feet moved, seemingly of their own free will, and she wrung her hands as she padded down the hallway to the bedroom door left ajar. For her. She pushed the door open slowly, just enough so she could see inside and inspect the scene before she decided to enter. Damian was asleep, sitting up against his pillows, TV remote on his bare chest, one arm bent behind his head, brawny bicep on full display, and was there ever going to come a day when she didn’t automatically check him out? For fuck’s sake, you are a slut. 

“Damian,” she whispered, nearly choking on his name. One hand clutched the door, the other the knob, as she wasn’t going to enter without his permission. “Damian,” she repeated a little louder. 

The man jumped, eyes opening to the size of saucers. “I’m up,” he rasped, clearing his throat as he sat up, the remote rolling off his chest. He was disoriented for a moment, taking a few breaths, and then he noticed her cowering at the door. He swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood. “Are you okay?” he asked. He started toward her, stopped, and backed up before she was able to react negatively.

“I …” she trailed off. “Can I sleep in here tonight?” she forced out in a whisper. “I just—I didn’t want—”

“Shh,” Damian softly hushed her. “Just get in bed.” 

Annabel started around the bed to her side—you don’t have a side—when Damian grabbed his pillow.

“Wait,” she said. Damian turned to her, and her mouth clamped shut because suddenly she had no idea why she wanted him to wait.

“Do you want me to stay?” 

Annabel nodded, grateful he didn’t force her to say it, and she carefully slid into a bed she’d spent more time in than she would ever admit to. Damian repositioned his pillow before climbing under the covers.

“We can—” Damian started.

She made her way across the mattress slowly, offering Damian every opportunity to stop her—only half of her actually wanting him to stop her—but he remained still as she ducked under his arm so she could lay her head on his chest. She pressed her body to his, refraining from wrapping a leg around his so as not to give the wrong idea. The last thing she was interested in was any kind of sexual encounter. She simply needed human contact, to feel his warmth, his refined muscles, and when his arm promptly came around her waist, avoiding any of her spots, she realized she needed more than just contact—she needed to be held, to feel safe, to feel … not hated. Maybe she didn’t deserve it, but she swore to continue her self-loathing tomorrow—she just wanted to have tonight.

“You good? Is this okay?” Damian asked. Annabel could hear the sleep coating his voice.

“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding. “Thank you.”

Damian nodded and took a deep breath, Annabel’s head rising with his warm, bare chest, and her eyes were suddenly heavy. “For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Annabel Lee,” his scratchy voice broke the momentary silence. Annabel’s—whose middle was Lee—eyes widened, brows creasing. “And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful … Anna …” He trailed off, poetry recitation replaced by soft snoring. 

She suddenly had so many questions, but Damian’s snoring was to her like white noise was to other people. Add to that her body’s sheer exhaustion, and her just widened eyes blinked slowly before closing, her own gentle snoring joining Damian’s.

[theblueeyedfirebender]

Fanfiction Masterlist.

(Updated 10/9/24)

The following are my works over on AO3. It's mostly oneshots, mostly Royai (plus one Zutara), and the more I disassociate from reality the longer this list gets.

Bon appétit ❤️

The Art of Living On

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 3.9K

She has never done this. Has avoided it at all costs. Because she is unfit, she tells herself. Her hands are made for firearms and filing office paperwork, not soothing fussy babies. Her edges are too sharp, too jagged to provide comfort to anyone. She is scarred and bloodied and barely knows the love of a mother herself.

But the baby wails, pleading.

Written for Royai Week 2024, Day 2: Appreciate

This story was adapted into a podfic (audiobook, but make it fanfiction) by @klainelynch. Listen here.

(domestic fluff, light angst with a happy ending)

Death and Taxes

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 5.4K

“You’re proposing we marry,” Hawkeye responds, slow and dangerous, “for tax purposes?”

Something prickles beneath Mustang's shirt collar. He resists the urge to tug at it, instilling his voice with an even coolness as he pretends to examine his cuticles. “A mutually beneficial arrangement, wouldn’t you agree?”

(marriage of convenience)

The Counteroffer

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.7K

On the eve of Mustang’s inauguration as Fuhrer, Riza Hawkeye submits her resignation.

My very first Royai fanfic, and my first attempt at creative writing in literal years.

(light angst with a happy ending)

Hourglass

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 1.6K

Riza Hawkeye never intended on living past age thirty-two. It wasn’t that she wanted to die. She simply did not expect to live.

Written for Royai Week 2024, Day 5: Gift

(angst with a happy ending)

Uncle Zuko

Katara x Zuko

Rating: T

Word count: 2.6K

Of all the things his hands have held - from dragon eggs and ancient texts to the element of Fire itself - this is by far the most precious, the most powerful: a new generation, one born into a world without war.

Zuko is forced to hold Sokka's baby, and feelings happen. I published this story years ago on FFN under a different title. This is the updated/revised version. I haven't written much of them lately, but Zuko & Katara are, and will always remain, my otp.

(domestic fluff)

The Bookshelf - WIP

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.3K

“It has a ladder.” Falman remarks, impressed.

(Or: Fuhrer Mustang gifts Hawkeye a bookshelf, and the rest of the Team starts to figure things out.)

(fluff, humor)

Strong Whiskey and Slanted Light

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: G

Word count: 908

His team is alive. The Elric brothers have their bodies back. Havoc can walk again. And from her place in the driver’s seat, Riza Hawkeye - alive and breathing - glances sharply in his direction, brows raised in a rare moment of removing her attention from the road ahead. He doesn’t miss the way she winces at the sudden movement of her still-healing neck. “Sir?”

“It’s just a question, Lieutenant. I’m curious.”

Written for Royai Week 2024, Day 1: Curiosity

(light angst, mutual pining)

Mrs. Mustang

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 999

“And how are you this evening, my dear?” he murmurs, the playful formality simmering between them. His bowtie has gone missing, Riza observes. As well as his tailored jacket, and the top few buttons of his collared shirt are undone. Suspenders hang loose around his hips, and the scent of his cologne - a blend of tobacco, leather, and vanilla - drifts to her, freshly applied despite the lateness of the hour.

“Very well,” she responds over the rim of her wine glass, wondering if the darkness is enough to conceal the heat creeping into her face. Likely not. “Only I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘my dear’.”

(fluff)

As You Were

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.4K

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s dropped his honorific.

Maybe it’s the fact that they are somehow both alive. Maybe it’s the fact that he can see her, when he’d believed with such certainty that he never would again. He can see her and she is beautiful, and for once he doesn’t understand why he ever chose to banish that thought from his mind when it is so clearly the truth.

(angst)

The Flame Alchemist's Daughter

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 6.4K

The ink is a burden. The knowledge is a curse.

Disclaimer: I wrote this before I fully understood the mechanics of Mustang's flame alchemy (I literally finished the series in March 2024; I'm new here, so my bad). I realized later that some of the implications here would not make sense in canon. That said, I still love this story. I'm proud of it and it's freaking fanfiction so who cares.

(angst)

Checkmate

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 1.6K

In the wake of his election victory, Roy Mustang makes a very important visit to Fuhrer President Grumman.

Prequel to "The Counteroffer."

(fluff, light angst)

Four

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.2K

Each time he has laid eyes on Riza Hawkeye’s tattoo, the course of Roy Mustang’s life has been permanently altered.

(angst with a happy ending)

[avanatural]

I Don’t Mind

Summary: Four different hunts. Four shared motel rooms, four shared bathrooms, four shared beds. And four times that Y/N doesn’t mind getting closer to Dean.

Pairing: Dean x female Reader

Category: Fluff, comfort, angst

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, stitches, nudity, cursing

A/N: Here’s some Dean fluff sprinkled with comfort and angst. I hope you enjoy! Wanna be added to my Dean Winchester tag list? Send me an ask! ❤️

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Hunt number 1

Dean exited the bathroom in a pair of boxers and an AC/DC t-shirt, his hair still damp. Waves of steam followed him, curling into the dusty motel room air. “There’s nothin’ like a hot shower after a hunt.”

Y/N looked up from the book in her lap. Her hair was still damp, too, leaving a few wet spots on her tank top and shorts. She’d gotten comfortable on the bed while her hunting partner had taken his turn in the bathroom. “Hm-mh. I’m glad it was just a regular salt-and-burn.”

“Yeah. Same ‘ere.” Dean’s subtle glance dropped to her bare legs for a second. It had been years since he’d shared a motel room with a woman. It was different from what he was used to, but in a good way. Her company was kinda fun. She was easygoing, gorgeous to look at, and he swore she smelled like cotton candy and rainbows. Tearing his gaze away from her soft skin, he cleared his throat, and with a raised eyebrow, gestured toward the bed that Y/N was resting on. “So, uh… Sleeping arrangements?”

They had one bed and one couch. The plan was to go for twin beds, but the Sleepyhead Inn was the only motel in town, and of course, all the other rooms were taken.

Y/N’s eyes went back to her novel. She put the bookmark in place and closed the book while she suggested, “Just join me.”

“You sure?”, he wondered out loud, squinting at his hunting partner.

“You’re never gonna fit on that couch. And my back still hurts, so I don’t want it, either,” she said, placing her novel on the nightstand. She stared back at him when she added, “I think the mattress is big enough for two.”

Dean strolled to the free side of the bed, taking his time, giving her a chance to withdraw her offer. But even as he pulled back the cover, she kept quiet. “You got about…” He tilted his spiky-haired head. “Three seconds to change your mind. ‘Cause once my head hits that pillow, I ain’t moving.”

“I don’t mind,” she assured him, lips jerking with a smile, “Besides… I like a good cuddle.”  

“Huh. Would you look at that.” He broke into a surprised grin, emerald orbs sparkling playfully as he climbed into bed, “A bloodthirsty hunter, who just fried two ghosts extra crispy, asking for a snuggle.” Dean might have been joking around, but on the inside, he kind of admired her open approach to affection.  

If there was one thing that hunters didn’t get to do a lot, it was to share tenderness with someone else. It was too dangerous. Scarier than the monsters that prowled the streets. Proximity and affection could get you attached. And attachment was a curse. Dean had been cursed one too many times throughout his life. Still, he couldn’t deny that Y/N’s lighthearted ways tempted him.

She let her head drop back against the headboard. “Don’t judge me,” she retorted through her slightly embarrassed smile, “It’s a lonely life.”

A layer of melancholy draped itself over Dean’s heart, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “It is, isn’t it?”, he breathed while his back sank into the mattress.

“Yeah,” she sighed and wiggled down the bed, lying down next to her hunting partner.

“So, uh…,” Dean trailed off and lifted his arm. It hung in the air awkwardly as he created space for Y/N against his torso. “You wanna… Or…?” God, he sounded like a fourteen-year-old making his first move at the movies. He had no idea how to initiate cuddling unless it was a follow-up to sex.

She snuck toward him with her sheet. Her body met his, and she curled up against his side. His skin radiated a welcoming heat through his t-shirt, providing a homey sensation.

With slow and careful movements, Dean closed his arm around her. By day, the huntress was so fiery and fierce, but now, by night, she was tame and trusting. In his embrace, she almost felt like a little dove whose wings could easily be broken. “This okay?”

“Hmm,” she hummed, her cheek meeting his shoulder, “Perfect.”

The two of them went against the general hunter code and ate up each other’s warmth. Soft breaths were passed back and forth. After a few minutes of relishing Dean’s clean scent, Y/N asked, “Hey, did you use my body wash?”

“Uh… Yeah.” The hunter used his brother’s stuff on a regular basis, without needing to ask. Old habits died hard, apparently. “Forgot mine. The motel’s body wash smells like a toilet rim block.”

A chuckle left her lips, her rib cage bouncing slightly against his side. “It does!”

“Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry. I’d much rather my cuddle buddy smells like cotton candy than a lemongrass toilet.”

He laughed along with his new friend, setting fire to Y/N’s heart with those warm, rumbling tunes.

“Do you wanna grab some breakfast in the morning?”, Dean wondered out loud. His breath got stuck in his throat when she suddenly looked up, her eyes peering at him through her lashes. His free hand acted of its own accord and gently brushed some hair away from her forehead. “Like, proper breakfast?”

“I’d love that.” The corners of her mouth jumped up for a second. Then, her nose wrinkled apologetically. “But I gotta leave first thing.”

“Oh.” Dean’s stomach took an insecure little leap. He didn’t want to part ways with Y/N just yet. Attachment was a curse, but she was too great of a spellcaster for him to resist.

“A friend of mine called and told me about another case in Michigan,” she explained, her palm finding his firm chest. “Looks like it’s a shifter. I promised him I’d take it.” Absentmindedly, she let her fingernails scrape across the red letters on his worn-out t-shirt.

“You need backup?”, Dean found himself asking, “Shifters are sneaky sons of bitches.”

A heart-stirring smile appeared on her face, emerging from deep within her soul. “You wanna tag along? Fight another monster with me?”

He shrugged his shoulders with feigned nonchalance, making her body move along with his. “Yeah, why not?”

Hunt number 2

“Y/N, I’m just gonna grab-“ Before Dean could finish his sentence, his voice faded in his throat. He stopped in his tracks abruptly, his feet rooted to the floor. His chest expanded with a huge bashful breath.

He‘d entered the bathroom to get his phone, to slip in and then slip back out just as fast.

Instead, he was met with the sight of Y/N’s oh-so-smooth skin. She’d just stepped out of the shower, fully nude, about to grab her towel. Yes, it had definitely been a while since he’d shared a motel room with a woman.

“Oh, shit, sorry.“ Dean averted his gaze, studying the white tiles on the floor. But the sight of her bare body haunted him, still flashing before his eyes. “I was just gonna get my phone…” With his cell phone raised as evidence, he stepped back, about to leave the bathroom.

The two hunters had arrived in Michigan to hunt the shapeshifter. New hunt, new motel. Y/N’s earlier words still ghosted through Dean’s ears. “One room, please. With a queen.” She’d deliberately booked a motel room with a single bed for them to share. To say that he was thrilled was an understatement.

The muscles in Y/N’s abdomen contracted as she released a melody of hushed laughter. “I don’t mind,” she said, her tone every bit as earnest as it was casual, and wrapped her towel around herself.

Dean took a discreet peek at her body to make sure she was covered, then met her gaze with a questioning glint in his own. “You sure?”

“It’s fine,” she insisted and brushed past him, “I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of naked women.” Mischievously, she glanced at him over her shoulder as she snuck back into their room, about to grab some clothes.

“Well, yeah…” His short nails scraped against his scalp as he followed her out of the bathroom. “But that usually plays out a little different.”

She stopped rummaging through her duffel bag and quirked an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t walk in on them while they’re taking showers?”, she teased.

“I’m not some creep…,” he declared, partly joking, partly defensive, “God, please tell me you don’t think I’m some creep.”

“No, I don’t,” she chuckled, softly shaking her head, “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m used to sharing these rooms. Happens all the time. Let’s just get ready to hunt that shapeshifter.”

Dean nodded to himself and repressed the flirty urges that were daring him to compliment her body. “Yes, ma’am,” he quipped, lips pulling back to reveal a grin.  

Hunt number 3

"Hey..." Y/N extended her hand across the motel bed, her fingers reaching for Dean's biceps. "You okay?"

He didn't respond. The older Winchester brother was propped up against the headboard, his stare attached to his hands, which were resting in his lap. His arm shrugged itself out of her reach.

She crawled back to her side of the bed, mumbling, "I'm sorry." Her heart thumped against her chest one, two, three times until she finally made a move to get up.

"What are you doing?", Dean inquired, removing his gaze from his hands. His green eyes narrowed, getting used to the lights in the room, slowly breaking free from tunnel vision.

"I'm giving you space." She took her sheet between her fingers and pulled it off the bed. Her feet pattered across the room, headed for the couch, which she was intending to prepare for herself.

"I thought you didn't like sleeping on the couch,” he muttered.

When Y/N looked back at Dean, she found a riddle. An enigma of a man. The muscles in his body were tight. His hands were balled into fists. His jaw was locked, the key to unclench it nowhere in sight. His eyes and lips, however, told a different story. His eyes were enlarged with a tinge of soft worry. His lips were parted by a silent plea.

"It's okay, Dean," she said, "I don't mind."

"You never do,” he grunted out, teeth suddenly gritted.

"What?”

Dean got up from the bed, scoffing, shaking his head. "You don't mind sharing a room. You don’t mind cuddling. Or sharing your body wash. You don't mind if I see you naked.” With each sentence, he took a step closer to her. “You don't mind sleeping on the couch. Tell me, Y/N, what do you mind?" With each passing word, his voice took a step higher on the ladder of tones.

By now, he was close enough that she could see a bluish vein bulge in his forehead, as well as the slight tremble of his chin. “I- Dean, what brought this on?”

"You’re just gonna act normal?”, he demanded, “You don't mind that another victim died? Because of… Because I didn’t-” His rough voice died, losing all its strength. His hand started to reach up to point at his own chest, but it crashed back down, snapping against his leg, defeated.

Y/N’s face fell, the tension escaping from her muscles as she realized what exactly his issue was. “That wasn’t your fault,” she spoke, pained by the raw sorrow he radiated. “You couldn’t have known that there was another wolf.” Her hand met the curve of his t-shirt-clad shoulder. “You did everything you could, Dean.”

A prominent line settled between his shuddering brows. His nostrils flared softly. Tears shimmered in his beautiful eyes. “Then why do I feel so bad?”, he croaked, the noises that spilled from his throat sounding broken.

“Because what you saw back there is beyond most people’s imagination.” She squeezed his shoulder and closed the distance between them. “Even if you’ve been hunting all your life, it doesn’t get easier. It doesn’t get less painful. Especially not with a heart as kind as yours.”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. Not because he thought she was lying. No, quite the opposite. He knew she truly believed her own words. But he would never be able to agree with her, and that hurt more than anything.

His body startled when he suddenly felt a caring pair of arms around his waist. In return, one of his own arms folded around Y/N. Her cheek pressed against his chest, her body melting effortlessly against his figure.

“You’re a good man, Dean,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. She applied pressure to his back, pushing him against her.

His eyes snapped shut and a single tear escaped his hold, burning down his cheek. His mouth quivered as he circled both his arms around her. Through their embrace, he realized just how much he wanted Y/N by his side. She could always tell what he needed. And she gave it to him unconditionally.

He placed his chin on top of her head and took a deep inhale, breathing in the compassion she was providing. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Anytime.”                    

They held each other for a few more seconds, lost in their very own world. When they broke apart, Dean cleared his throat before speaking up. “I don’t mind. If you… You know, wanna…” He pointed his thumb at the motel bed, blabbering out an incomplete offer that didn’t need much more explaining.

As their heads hit the pillows that night, a strange combination of sadness and comfort drifted through the undusted motel room atmosphere.

While Dean curled into a ball on his side of the bed, Y/N slid forward in the dark, inching closer and closer until her front pressed into his back. Her arm looped around his waist, her hand coming to rest on his chest.

Almost immediately, his palm covered the back of her hand. For once, Dean allowed himself to give away control. He let her hold him all night. He let her presence soothe his aching soul as she slept soundly against his back.

Hunt number four

“Ah, fuck,” Y/N whimpered as she stepped out of her blood-stained pants. She gasped at the pool of blood that seeped from the stab wound in her left thigh. With a troubled grimace, she clawed at one of the chairs in the motel room, steadying herself.

It had been a damn long day for Y/N and Dean. She’d called him for backup on a demon case. The black-eyed bastard had possessed innocent people, ruined their lives, and even taken a few.

“How’s it look?”, Dean asked, hurrying back and forth across their room, grabbing different supplies to stitch up Y/N. His breathing was labored, torso moving fast with concern.

“Peachy,” she hissed through bared teeth.

As he passed her, he caught a glimpse of her wound. Truth be told, it was messy. There was no way to sugarcoat it. Her entire upper leg was smeared with blood.

Dean put down a towel and spread the supplies across their mattress. “Come on, sweetheart.” Sneaking his arm around her waist, he escorted her to the bed.

With his support, she hobbled forward and sat down on the towel. Her leg was stinging with sharp waves of agony.

Dean sat down on his knees in front of his hunting partner. He took the warm washcloth he’d prepared and started wiping it along her unscathed skin, taking away the blood stains surrounding her wound.

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered. She felt dizzy. The washcloth left a warm sensation on her skin, but it did little to soothe the harsh pinches that were shooting through her leg.

Dean’s hand, hardened from years of hunting, gently held the back of her knee. “You know, my little brother,” he told her, focused on her thigh as he cleaned it, “He’s a pro at this. He could stitch you up in no time.”

She gulped down the lump in her dry throat, making way to express her gratitude for his presence. “I think I’m in good hands.” There was no other person whom she trusted as much as Dean to take care of her.

His gaze hiked up her face. The corners of his mouth rose in a tight-lipped smile. Y/N was covered in blood, sweat, and exhaustion, and yet, she still radiated hope and trust. She still shone bright. “What did the janitor say when he jumped outta the closet?”, Dean suddenly inquired.

“Wha-“ Before she could finish her question, he pressed the alcohol wipe to her wound. She groaned out a bunch of profanities.

“Supplies!”, the kneeling hunter called out, finishing his bad joke.

Y/N’s groan turned into an amused chortle. Her scowl broke into an annoyed little grin. “You’re the worst.”

“Ha-ha, I know. Don’t you worry, I got enough stupid jokes to get you through this.”

“Oh, thank God,” she taunted, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Secretly, though, she didn’t want him to stop lifting her spirits.

Once her wound was cleaned, Dean reached for the needle he’d prepared. “Alright, next step his is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Every muscle and bone in Dean’s body told him not to continue. Causing Y/N pain went against his very nature. He knew he was going to feel every pinch and every slide of the needle just as much as she would. But it had to be done.  

He took a deep breath, one that Y/N subconsciously copied, and went on, “What did Blackbeard say when he turned 80?”

“I don’t know, what?” As she was speaking, he planted the first stitch, pushing the needle through her skin. She closed her eyes and pushed her teeth together.

“Aye, mayte,” Dean imitated what he thought to be a pirate’s voice. Instead, he sounded like a combination of an old grandpa and a demon being exorcised.

She snorted through her suffering. With every stitch, every push of the needle, the joking hunter coaxed another chortle, snort or laugh from her. He was her distraction. Her anchor. He was everything she could have asked for.

“Alright, last one,” he announced finally, yearning to be done with the stitches. His bloodied fingers trembled slightly. Honestly, his knowledge of flat jokes did not just serve to comfort the ones he had to stitch up. It was a coping mechanism he’d developed primarily for himself. To keep himself calm when his loved ones got hurt. ”How do you make holy water?”

“I know how,” she murmured, “But I’m pretty sure that’s not the answer to your joke.”

For the last time, Dean pushed the needle through Y/N’s tender skin. His heart clenched at the throaty wince that she released. “You boil the hell out of it,” he revealed, eager to lift some weight from her shoulders.

And for the last time, Y/N was guided through the pain by his humor. Her voice was weak, but the chuckle that spilled from her throat was clearly audible.

“There you go. Good job, sweetheart.” Dean lifted his head to smile warmly at his hunting partner. Then he grabbed the scissors and cut the thread, relieved to jump past the finish line of his gruesome task. “All done.”

“Thank you.” Placing her pointer and middle finger under his chin, she tipped up his head to make him look up at her again. “Really,” she added, her Y/E/C eyes threatening to suck him in. She’d called him for backup on this hunt. And Dean had driven for hours to meet up with her, when he could easily have sent someone else.

“We’re partners,” he declared, honest jade-colored orbs staring up at her, “I’d never leave you hanging, you know that.”

She flashed her teeth at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Right back at you, Winchester.”

Spurred on by the bubbly feeling in his chest, Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out, and so he shut it again. Instead of speaking, the two of them opted for exchanging a smile with each other.

When Dean sat up, about to grab the bandages that were scattered across the bed, Y/N took the initiative.

“It’s okay, I got it from here,” she said, turning her upper body to get the bandages instead. She didn’t like leaving the entire responsibility to others, even if they were kind enough to offer.

“Y/N, Iet me finish-“ he began to protest.  

When he leaned forward, she suddenly turned to face him again, prompting their mouths to bump into each other. Two sets of lips grazed each other clumsily, tempted yet refusing to pucker – a sweet accident.

Dean pulled back, instinctively giving her some space. She glanced down at her thigh, dragging her lower lip through her teeth.

“Sorry,” he apologized. The softness of her lips still danced across his mouth, poking his plump flesh with delicious tingles.  

“I don’t mind,” she repeated her signature line, the smile reaching her eyes despite the dull ache that was still vibrating through her leg.

For a split second, Dean’s eyebrows wrinkled. Then, reassured by Y/N’s beaming face, his cheeks dimpled with a grin of his own. His hand settled on her unharmed leg and gave a squeeze.  

The pads of her fingers reached out to trail along the side of his jaw. She got distracted by his boyish smirk. By his plump parted lips. By the faint freckles that lined them. By his pearly white teeth. “I, uh…” Her voice dropped. Her common sense had long since left the building when she confessed, “Fuck, I think I’m catching feelings.”

“I don’t mind.”

Now, it was Y/N’s turn to wrinkle her brows. “You don’t?” Her confession had been more of a warning. More of a ‘you might want to stay away from me.’ She expected Dean to shy away. But when he didn’t, her heart both dropped and blossomed simultaneously.

“No.” Dean’s irises bounced from side to side, observing her reaction, hoping he was doing this whole thing right. “‘Cause I’m catching feelings, too.”

Y/N glanced Dean’s hand on her good leg. There were some cuts and bumps on the back from fighting off the demon. His palm sent a surge of comfort through her body. “Damn, this shit it nerve-wrecking,” she blurted, speaking out exactly what he was feeling. Romantic feelings were everything but a hunter’s average small talk topic.

“Yeah,” he laughed shakily, shortly blinking at the floor, “Tell me about it. So-“ Before he could say any more, he felt a pair of soft lips on his mouth and a warm palm on either side of his jaw. A low hum rumbled through his throat. He tilted his head to gently rub his mouth against Y/N’s.

Their kiss was short but sugared with sweet affection. It scratched an itch that had been building up for weeks. The two hunters broke apart with a quiet smacking sound and bashful little smirks on their mouths. “Awesome,” they whispered simultaneously against each other’s faces.

Dean pressed another lasting kiss to Y/N’s alluring lips. Then, while his fidgety fingers retrieved the bandages, he simply asked, “Pizza or burgers?”

“What? Ohh, I get it.” She held still as her hunting partner lifted the back of her knee to wrap up her wound. “No chick-flick moments, huh?”

The Winchester bobbed his head up and down, showing his agreement. “Pick your poison,” he said while he carefully looped the bandage around her thigh, “I need to get you more painkillers. Might as well get some food.”

“Burgers,” Y/N decided, head spinning due to blood loss and rushes of dopamine, “And when you get back, I think we should choose our next destination.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, the corner of his mouth curving upward at the prospect of another shared hunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Tag list: @eevvvaa @waynes-multiverse @myloversgone @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @alagalaska @libre1rose8 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @woodworthti666 @deanwanddamons​ @awkward-and-indecisive @snowlovespie @desimarie12 @golden-hoax @leigh70 @mimzy1994 @impalaslytherin @globetrotter28 @spnwoman​ @mrsjenniferwinchester @may85 @100percentserenity @tmb510 @roseblue373​ 

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca, my love. A huge congratulations on your follower celebration. You deserve every single one and a thousand more 🥳❤️

So... I wanna push you out of your comfort zone a little and request a little drabble made from a gif and I'm gonna choose our dear Rumlow 😉

But also... can I pair it with a kiss prompt? "If you win, I'll kiss you"

No pressure at all, since you haven't written for Rumlow before, but I hope this could inspire you 😁❤️

My lovely Lily,

Thank you for being such a good friend to me, you’re always so supportive and encouraging. And thank you for following me and being a part of my celebration. It means so much to me that you read my fics and our daily chats are some of the best parts of my day.

And thank you for this ask, I’m REALLY nervous about writing for Rumlow so I hope you like what I did here. Oh and it’s a little more than a drabble 🤣

Never Again

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of domestic abuse, injuries as a result of said abuse, lessons in boxing and Krav Maga, little violent.

Word Count: 3.9k-ish

Summary: You’re relatively new in town and you start working out at a nearby gym where you notice someone there that could help you with a problem from your past.

A/N: So yes this is my first time writing for Rumlow, I’m terrified but I had fun writing for someone new. And it’s a little longer than I intended but such is life! I hope you like it. And this has a very J Lo in Enough feel to it.

*********

You passed that building every day on your way to the gym. It was intimidating to look at even from across the water, wondering what was inside, wondering if anyone was looking down at you as you drove by the large complicated building with more windows than you could count but it was the building that he headed for every day after his workout.

Well, he did on the days that you and he finished your workouts at the same time.

Sometimes you would sneak into the part of the gym that had the boxing ring and watch him while you jumped rope, not well, but it was passable. He was amazing to watch, dominating his sparring partners with what looked like a combination of fighting styles.

Boxing, Krav Maga, Karate, and probably a few more but you didn’t know the difference. You had no idea how to fight, but you wanted to learn.

It might be helpful the next time your ex finds you because you knew there would be a next time.

The daily routine of trying to cover your bruises with makeup was exhausting and you didn’t want to do it anymore, you didn’t want to be scared anymore so you decided you were going to approach him.

He had a daunting look to him, wild brown hair, amber colored eyes, days old stubble, and his face always looked like he was filled with a dark rage but you had caught him smiling a couple of times when he wasn’t busy being cranky. So he did know how to smile but it was painfully obvious he didn’t do it very often.

After an aggressive run on the treadmill, you turned to step off and crashed right into him. He looked annoyed at first but when he looked into your eyes, his expression softened. You immediately apologized.

“Shit, I am so so sorry. Are you ok?” You asked, wiping the sweat off of your face.

Anger returned to his face when he looked at yours.

When you had wiped the sweat off of your face, you had taken some of your makeup with it, uncovering the greenish-yellow bruise around your eye that you had forgotten was there.

“Who did that to you?” He asked with a gruff tone to his voice.

Not remembering you had a bruise around your eye, you replied to his question. “Did what?”

He moved in closer and feeling his breath against your eyelashes, he gently turned your face toward the mirrors along the wall.

“That! Who did THAT to you?” He repeated again.

Quickly turning away from the mirrors and breaking away from his touch, you lied to him.

“Oh I’m just really clumsy, I walked into the corner of the door.” You said.

He seemed annoyed with your answer. “Right, if you say so, Miss. Have a good day.” And with that, he turned to leave.

But you didn’t want him to. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“WAIT!” You called out.

He stopped, turned and waited for you to catch up to him.

“Teach me…please.” You begged. “I’ve tried restraining orders, the police, they won’t help me. I feel like you might be the only one who can…I’ve seen you fight.”

He dropped his bag from his shoulder, placed his hands on his hips, and glanced at the ground before returning his gaze to you. The heat coming from his body hit your exposed skin and sent a shiver down your spine.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and returned his arms to rest at his sides. Bending at the waist, he picked up his gym bag and started to walk away.

Your stomach dropped as you watched him walk away before he turned to look at you once again.

“Be here tomorrow…noon. I’m Brock…Rumlow. Be ready to work. If you are thirty seconds late, I’m walking.” He said.

“Of course, yes I will be here Mr. Rumlow.” You said in a shaky tone. “I’m y/n.”

Brock cracked a slight smile. “Just Brock, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow. And do me a favor…”

He closed the distance between your bodies so he could whisper in your ear.

“Leave those bruises uncovered. I want you to take one more look at them because after I’m done with you, those will be the last set of bruises he’ll ever give you.” He growled and he walked away without turning back.

You had a feeling you were in for a long afternoon tomorrow.

**********

The clock said 11:45.

You made sure you weren’t just on time, you were early, changed and ready to work. You saw Brock walk in and head straight for the locker room, he was dressed in what looked like tactical clothing, all black from head to toe and black boots. He noticed you waiting for him and he held up one finger as if to tell you “one minute” or “be right out.”

You had done as he requested and left all of your visible bruises uncovered. The one around your eye was going away but you could still see the greenish-yellow mark on your face and also the hand and fingerprints on your arms and neck.

Feeling self-conscious, you tried to position yourself in a way where they weren’t so visible but it didn’t do any good. You felt like everyone was staring at you, even though they weren’t. They didn’t look as bad as they did before and they were also taking a long time to fade.

He emerged from the locker room dressed in black shorts, sneakers, and a white muscle shirt, plus his signature sour look to his face. But you had to admit, that look was rather sexy.

You watched carefully as Brock taped up your hands and then taped up his own. You were a fast learner so you should be able to tape up your own hands tomorrow, if you lasted through your first workout.

“Ya ever done any self-defense or boxing before, sweetheart?” He asked.

You shook your head before answering him. “No, never.”

“Ok…well, hope you’re ready to work.” He said.

“I am.” You replied.

And he did work you, he worked you harder than you’ve probably worked out ever before. He started with the basics…how to stand, loose knees, elbows tucked in, and the basic punches.

Brock showed you the jab, the cross, and the hook. Then taught you some of the basic combination punches: 1-2 (jab-right cross), 1-1-2 (jab-jab-cross), and the 1-2-hook-2.

Your time together went by quickly. And more than once you had caught Brock looking at the blue and purple marks on your upper arms as you threw punch after punch, encouraging you and praising you for when he thought you did a good job.

During one of your water breaks, he asked you, “When did you leave him?”

He caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting him to converse except when he was giving you lessons but it was nice to talk to someone that wasn’t yelling at you. Brock was surprisingly gentle.

He would always ask and make sure it was alright before he put his hands on you to show you something and his voice was stern but he never yelled at you which was comforting.

“Oh, awhile ago but he always manages to find me wherever I go, hence these bruises.” You pointed to the bruise around your eye.

“And he doesn’t know where you are now?” He asked.

“No, not yet but he has connections and money so I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he does. This time I thought I’d try a bigger city, maybe he wouldn’t look for me here in D.C. but I’m just tired of running and being afraid, Brock.”

The man of few words had even less to say than he did before. He was silent, the look in his eyes was sad but not sorry. He didn’t seem the type to feel sorry for people but it was almost like he was proud of you for escaping, for leaving when a lot of people would just stay and take it.

You didn’t want to be one of them.

“Why does he keep chasing you then? What does he want?” He asked.

“I took something. Something that meant more to him than I ever did.” You said.

Brock looked like he was on the edge of his seat waiting to hear what you were going to say, before you cracked a sly smile and said,

“I took the cat.” Followed by a light giggle.

A smile stretched across his lips bigger than you had ever seen him smile before and he started shaking his head.

“The cat? You took the fuckin’ cat?” He asked in a surprised tone.

“Hey, Peanut is MY cat, not his!” You said, sass dripping from your voice.

Taking a sip of water, he inched closer to you while you were seated at the edge of the boxing ring and he was standing. Bending at the waist, he rested his hands on his knees so his eyes were level with yours.

You swallowed hard and heat rose to your cheeks as he continued to stare at you before he said in a low voice.

“I just don’t wanna see you get hurt anymore and especially not because of a cat, sweetheart.” He said.

His words didn’t faze you on the outside but on the inside you felt hot, and butterflies appeared from the depths of your stomach but you kept yourself calm and collected before responding to him.

“Well that’s why I have you, right? To teach me, I mean.” You said softly and trying to make it sound like you DIDN’T find him attractive, but you were pretty sure you were failing miserably.

He broke the awkward silence between you.

“Ya ready to do it again tomorrow?” He asked. “I gotta get to work.”

“Oh yes, absolutely but I’d really like to pay you for your time…please?” You asked.

Brock pressed his lips together in a straight line and shook his head furiously. “No, no I don’t want your money, doll. I honestly think you’re a natural fighter and I wanna teach you everything I know so you can be prepared, alright?” His voice was rough and stern.

You nodded and nervously bit down on your lower lip before changing the subject.

“Was that your work uniform you walked in wearing earlier? Can you tell me what you do or if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me?” You joked.

Brock smiled again. “Some other time, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow, same time.” He handed you a roll of tape. “Ya think you can tape up by yourself tomorrow?”

“I can do it.” You said, confidently.

He extended his index finger to point at you. “Ya know I’m gonna check it, right?”

“I know, I said I can do it, Brock.” You said with a slightly annoyed voice.

You hated being doubted.

“Ok, ok I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He said, throwing up his hands with a smug smile on his face.

**********

6 Months Later

“Come on, you can do better than that Princess!” He said condescendingly through gnashed teeth as you fought to free yourself from the tight grip he had you in, pinned against the wall. “Ya want his hands around ya pretty little neck like this again?! DO YOU?!!!” He yelled. “Come on, y/n!!

Six months ago, he never would have dared to grab you like that or yell in your face but you were much stronger now than you were then.

His hot breath hit against your face, and you managed to turn to the side, your elbow hit his forearm and his hand bent up at the wrist and you were able to quickly elbow him three times in the face.

In the six months Brock had been training you, you’ve managed to graduate from the basic boxing moves to Krav Maga where he really taught you how to protect yourself and how to inflict pain on your enemy.

You were making quick work of the sparring partners he had brought in for you to practice against. They were becoming less and less challenging and there was only one person you wanted to spar against to make you feel like if your ex attacked you, you would have the confidence to fight him off and that was Brock.

He had awakened something inside of you that you wouldn’t have known was there if it wasn’t for him. When he first started training you and said you were a natural fighter, you wanted to prove him right, that you could fight and you had the strength to not be pushed around anymore.

And the only way you were going feel good enough about your new fighting skills is if you could defeat him one on one.

“You’re gettin’ good, sweetheart…real good. Those guys are a little too easy for you, aren’t they. What do ya wanna do about it?” He asked.

“I wanna spar with you, Rumlow.” You said, breathing heavily.

Brock scratched his chin and playfully chuckled at you while shaking his head. “No, you ain’t ready for me yet, doll…you’re just not. You’re good but you’re not THAT good.” He said smugly.

You narrowed your eyes at him and suddenly became very agitated. The man was so sure that you couldn’t beat him, that he wasn’t even willing to give you a chance to prove him wrong.

Working out very close to Brock for the past six months caused you to develop some deeper feelings toward him too. Yes, you were friends but also you felt maybe he had an attraction to you like you had toward him.

There were subtle hints like you’d catch him staring at you while you were taping up your hands or getting a drink of water. Sometimes he’d wink at you when you performed well on a lesson he was teaching you. And he was smiling just a little bit more than you were used to seeing.

Anytime he put his hands on you during a lesson, he would always ask if it was ok or if he hurt you in any way to just tell him.

He never wanted to push too hard in case you weren’t ready for that yet. Sometimes after your lessons, you would take him out for a beer and he’d ask you questions about you ex.

“You can always tell me to fuck off if I’m askin’ too much, ya know. I can’t imagine it’s easy for you to talk about. Please don’t feel like you have answer me if you don’t want to. I don’t even know him but I wanna kill him for hurting ya.” He had said.

You gave him a warm smile. “I don’t really know anyone else in this city except a couple of co-workers. I don’t have anyone else to talk to about it, Brock. No other friends so thank you for listening.” You had said.

You had a feeling that he wanted to kiss you but he didn’t. Did he stop himself because he thought of you as damaged? Did he think he was taking advantage of your teacher/student relationship?

Sometimes it was all you could think about after you went home for the day. You had dreams about his lips colliding with yours, teeth nipping at your chin and jawline, and his calloused hands exploring your body, touching you in a way that you’ve wanted him to from the first second you saw him.

But maybe he was a betting man.

“You don’t think I can win, do you.” You said.

He thought he could catch you off guard by trying to punch you in the face but you were fast and blocked him.

“I ain’t gonna take it easy on ya, Princess. You know he won’t either.” And he threw another punch at you with the other fist, which you also blocked.

“I wasn’t asking you to.” You said with a coy smile before elbowing him in the stomach. “How about a little wager?”

“What do ya have in mind, y/n?” He asked.

You pondered for a brief moment. “If I win, you have to tell me what you do for work that requires you to wear all that tactical clothing.”

“Ok. And if I win?” He asked.

You moved in close so the two of you were sharing the same air, you were both breathing heavily and as your breath hit the skin on his throat, goosebumps skirted across his skin and he gazed down at you with a primal look in his eyes.

Looking up at him through your long dark lashes, you answered. “If you win, I’ll kiss you, since you’re apparently too chicken to do it.”

Brock wasn’t afraid of anything so now he was determined to win. The devilish smile that stretched across his lips told you he definitely wasn’t going to hold back and he would do whatever he had to make sure he wins the bet.

He had taught you to be very aware of your surroundings, aware of things that could be problematic like tables and other furniture that could get in the way if you had to fight off your ex in your own home but right now you were surrounded by gym equipment, the boxing ring, and the walls.

“You got yourself a bet, sweetheart.” He said.

“Well ring the bell and let’s go, Rumlow.” You replied.

As soon as that bell rang, he came after you and throwing different combination punches and kicks at you. Since Brock was bigger than you, you thought it would be best to try and wear him down so he’d make a mistake. You would use his size and strength to your advantage, ducking and weaving as he threw punch after punch at you.

Throwing all of his weight behind those punches was making him tired as you danced around him, punching him in between the shoulder blades and kicking him behind the knees but he didn’t stay down.

The rage in his eyes that you were so used to seeing everyday had returned as he got his second wind. Keeping his punches close to his body this time, he tried to get you to bring your hands down by attacking your body but you pulled him close to knee him in the stomach. Using all of your strength to throw him to the mat, only to watch him roll and get right back up again.

He was fast, really fast, but you took notice of his fighting patterns so you could counter with combination moves of your own.

You had to get him to the mat, it was the only way you were going to beat him. Suddenly you felt a hand around your throat like he had done earlier but this time being in the corner of the ring.

There wasn’t as much leverage you could use against the ropes as you could against the wall to try and free yourself but he left himself open, his legs were too far apart so you were able to take a swipe at his front leg causing him to fall to the mat.

Kneeing him in the chin, he fell flat on his back and you saw your opportunity to wrap your legs around his neck, in the hopes that he would yield…which he did.

“Fuck, your legs are strong!” He exclaimed, breathing deeply and trying his best to catch his breath after you climbed off of him.

You were trying to catch your breath also as you wiped the sweat from your brow. “S-so I’ve b-been told.” You said panting and trying to smile at the same time.

Brock stood up carefully so he wouldn’t lose his balance. Maybe in that brief moment in between your legs, you cut off his air supply which made you chuckle a little.

You removed your sparring helmet and started to take the fingerless fighting gloves and tape off of your hands. He did the same before he spoke again.

“Well y/n…looks like you beat me, fair and square. I supposed I gotta tell you what I do for a living now, don’t I.” He said, looking defeated.

You threw the helmet and the tape onto the mat and slowly walked over to him, still trying to catch your breath. You stopped inches away from him, the heat radiating through his t-shirt as you rested your hand against his chest and the other touched his cheek.

“Maybe another time.” You said, pushing yourself up onto your toes and gently pressing your lips to his.

Feeling how tense his body was, you pulled away and apologized only to have him pull you flush to his chest and his lips mash against yours as if he was trying to flatten and destroy your mouth.

His stubble scratched your cheeks but his lips felt so good against yours, his tongue slipped into your mouth causing you to softly moan and gasp into his mouth.

Winding strands of your hair in his fingers, he gently bit down on your bottom lip and gripped your head firmly as if to keep you from escaping.

But you let your guard down and he knew it so he swept your feet out from under you causing you to fall backwards onto the mat.

“Hey! You yielded, Rumlow!” You yelled, looking up at him. A rare genuine smile stretched across his lips. “Careful, you pull shit like that and you’re gonna end up with your head between my legs again.”

He helped you to your feet, pulling you in close and his voice sounded like a hiss from a dying fire as he whispered in your ear.

“The next time my head is between your legs, sweetheart, it will be because you want me there, trust me.” He said with a wicked smile.

His words, the gruff tone of his voice, the look he gave you…all sent delightful sparks down your spine and a guttural moan escaped your lips as he attacked your lips once again.

Caught in his firm embrace, his lips traced up and down the side of your neck before his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Brock was just about to pull it over your head when you both heard knocking on the boxing ring doors and voices.

“Time’s up, Rumlow!!!” They said.

You broke apart quickly and laughed a little with each other before he yelled to the people outside the doors.

“Alright!! Just gimme a second!” He bellowed.

It’s a good thing your face was already flushed from the workout so the people that walked into the room couldn’t tell that you were blushing. Biting down on your thumb, you waited for him to come back into the ring.

“I, uh, guess we’re done for the day.” You said with a warm smile.

He replied. “Let’s go, doll. I’ll take ya home.”

After many long kisses outside your apartment door, and even though you didn’t want to, you finally said goodbye to Brock. Your heavy make out session at the gym made you realize that before having him in between your legs again, maybe a date first would be a better decision.

Smiling from ear to ear as you closed the door, you placed your keys on the table and put down your gym bag.

And that’s when he made his presence known. There was a touch of acid in that cold, hard voice of his when he spoke.

“Hello sweetheart. You’re getting better and better at covering your tracks. I’m impressed. Miss me?”

He had found you…again. And by the tone of his voice, he sounded like he wasn’t letting you get away this time.

Others that may enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @qu1etwolf @redstarsandnightmares @gijos

[darling-i-read-it]

A Slytherin's Gryffindor

George Weasley x fem!Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Draco being an asshole (he breaks up with the reader, makes crude/cruel jokes at George and her), physical violence, slight insinuations to smut 

Author’s Note: HELLOO

If you remember this story you probably read Horrid Ex Boyfriends which I wrote in 2020 but I feel like I’ve grown a lot since then and wanted to take my hand at rewriting some old fics. I loved this one much more in its current form &lt;;3 

The original request: by anon, Hello love, your pinned post made me all fluffy inside: I’ve dreamed of this story for so long!! Could you do a Draco Malfoy’s Slytherin ex-girlfriend hating the Weasley twins but amidst the break up, finds herself drawn to George and falling for him? Just so you know, I even read the stories about fanbase I do not know because your writing is A+ !!! ❤️

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Draco gave you a look you didn’t recognize. You knew his face by now. You knew his expressions better. Dating the Slytherin heir came with its perks but it also came with its downsides, like having to know exactly what he was feeling for the sake of yourself and everyone around you. 

But this look seemed unfamiliar. You sat together at the table in the Great Hall, across from Goyle and Crabbe. You didn’t particularly like either boy but you tolerated them for the sake of Draco. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, gently, trying to coax out some sort of emotion. His face wiped of any disdain. 

“Nothing,” he snapped. You widened your eyes. 

“Alright.” You cleared your throat, putting down your fork. “Do you want me to meet you after the Quidditch game tonight?” 

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I have things to do.” 

“Oh? What kind of things?” you asked, defensively. 

“Nothing that concerns you.” 

“What is your problem Malfoy?” There was a loud bout of laughter coming from the Gryffindor table. Your eyes followed the noise, landing on the familiar group of redheads. George Weasley’s head was resting on the table. He was shaking from laughter. You found yourself longing to know what they were laughing at. They always seemed to be having more fun than you were. 

“Damn Weasley’s think they’re the only people in the world,” Draco grumbled. “Don’t they know we can all hear them?” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” you pointed out. 

“We’ll talk later,” he promised, voice sneering. He reminded you of his father then. You had the displeasure of meeting Lucius on multiple occasions and the more you watched Draco grow the more he became like him. Was that his goal all along? Did he strive to be the heir his father wanted him to be? Or did he want to be his own person, more like his mother? 

You got up from the table and grabbed your bag. If you could sit with the Gryffindors you would, if only to annoy your boyfriend. You left the Great Hall and Draco didn’t even bother to watch you go. 

George did, only because you caught his eye. Dinner wasn’t even halfway over. You had a determined look on your face that intrigued him. No matter how much your boyfriend attempted to put the Weasley’s down, you never were able to join him. You usually stood, a bystander, which implicated you only in your silence. 

George stood abruptly. 

“Where are you going?” Fred questioned, still laughing about the tail end of some other joke. 

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, the light hearted smile never leaving his face. He rushed to the doors, suddenly eager to follow you. 

The silence outside of the Great Hall was sometimes deafening. It always surprised you when the loud voices became muffled. You never felt more alone than when you were no longer part of Hogwarts student body. You were just a girl inside a large school, far too large for her own good. 

It was easy to hear that someone had followed you. The door opened, creaking, and the voices were loud once more for just a moment. You leaned between some pillars, against a stained glass window. You should get your books for your next class. Forget Draco entirely, focus on the schoolwork you knew you had to get done. 

You expected Draco to round the corner, a forgiving look on his face, knowing that you would mend things with him again. You were startled to see a gentle look and some red hair. You squinted, confused. 

“Miss Slytherin, what on Earth are you doing out here?” he questioned. He crossed his arms. He wasn’t here for some other reason, he had followed you. You glanced behind him, attempting to find Fred. Surely they were here to tease you mercilessly, just as Draco would’ve done to them. 

“Where’s your better half?” you asked, bitterly. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. 

“He’s still eating, just as we both should be.” 

“Who’s stopping you from going back?” 

“A very solemn look on a very not solemn girl.” You hardened your face defensively. You looked down at your shoes, hoping not to reveal anything else to him. 

“I’m fine. Just getting some air, Weasley, don’t worry about me.” 

“I’m not worried. I’m curious. There’s a large difference.” You found yourself grateful for his care. Draco should’ve been the one to follow you but he never would've been inquisitive on your feelings. He would’ve told you his, begged you to forgive him, promise it would never happen again. 

“I’m fine,” you repeated but it sounded less true this time than it had the first time. 

“I can sniff out liars. It’s a skill I have, courtesy of Ron being best friends with the boy who lived and such.” You eyed him, guarded. “Alright, well you can’t say I didn’t try.” 

He started to back away. 

“It’s Draco. Though I suppose that gives you satisfaction doesn’t it?” 

“I can’t lie, it absolutely does.” He smiled slyly. “But you don’t deserve whatever that twat has dished out.” You looked back down at your shoes. 

“Thank you Weasley,” you said, quietly, like saying it any louder would mean you’d have to confront the situation. 

“Do you know which Weasley I am?” he questioned, hands in his pockets, a familiar trickster look on his face. 

“George,” you said, without missing a beat. “I’m not stupid.” The smile he gave you was genuine. It felt like he had handed you a small promise, a gentle secret. 

The doors to the Great Hall opened. Draco emerged, showing almost no reaction to you and George speaking. Almost. You knew his face and you knew the twitch in his lips and the anger boiling within his eyes. 

“Get lost Weasley,” he said, enunciating clearly. 

“Come to beg for forgiveness Malfoy?” George questioned. 

“I don’t need to tell you twice,” Draco promised, walking between the two of you. George put his hands up in surrender. 

“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” he joked. He sauntered away, throwing you a wink that only you caught. You tried not to smile. It wasn’t until he had returned to the Great Hall that Draco spoke. 

“We need to break up,” he said, clearly. The smile on your face fell into despair. What had you done to warrant this? The question seemed to be painted all over your face because he answered without you saying anything verbally. “We don’t work anymore. It’s nothing you’ve done.” 

Your face twisted. 

“Clearly it is.”

“It’s not. There’s no need to be emotional about this, we both knew it was coming.” You wished you could disagree with him. But you could tell he was distancing himself for this moment. You just thought you could play this game a little bit longer. 

“Alright,” you breathed. “Fine.” 

Draco showed nothing on his face other than awkwardness. He shoved his hands into his pockets. How long had he been wanting to do this? You crossed your arms and turned away, walking farther away from the Hall and back to the dorms. You weren’t going to class this morning. 

“You aren’t going to fight?” he questioned, annoyed.

“Why would I? Clearly you’ve given this a lot of thought. We’re better off without each other.” His jaw set. He wanted a spat. He wanted a fight. Draco and you did nothing better than fight. You two could fight like no one else, screaming, throwing things, kissing and making it all better. 

You wanted to fight him. You knew how it would end. But you also knew you were better off without it this time. 

“Fine,” he said. You were still walking away. Draco had been part of your identity here at Hogwarts. It would be an adjustment without him. 

“Fine,” you repeated and rushed away, turning a corner so you could allow your emotions to flow. 

-

The next morning you made it halfway to your potions class before giving up. Sitting in the hallway and fake studying seemed so much more appealing than sitting in a classroom with Snape and Draco. You had no energy to make your way to the common rooms or a library so you sat on the steps beside a window, a book in your lap that you weren’t reading. 

You could hear footsteps making their way towards you and you quickly searched for some sort of excuse to be on stairs instead of in class. You were pleasantly surprised to not find a teacher when the footsteps emerged. Fred and George Weasley gave you curious looks. 

“Oi! What are you doing over here?” Fred asked. He seemed a little annoyed that they had run into you. You couldn’t blame him. Draco was cruel to the Weasley family and you couldn’t say that you were any better. You at least, never stopped it. 

“Just ignoring potions,” you said truthfully. You wiped your eyes, just in case any stray tears from your small homework crying session had lingered. 

“What’s wrong?” George asked.  He seemed genuine but you didn’t want to give him the immediate satisfaction that Draco had broken up with you.

“I want to apologize. For being so rude to the two of you, it isn’t something I pride myself on,” you said changing the subject. It had been itching at you since yesterday and you were happy to finally get it out. 

“It’s alright,” George started.

“We rarely think such things personal,” Fred finished.

“I would personally blame the most of it on that horrid boyfriend of yours,” George said. You locked eyes with George. The sympathy on his face led you to believe he knew. He hadn’t been told. He had guessed. 

“Well I suppose you won’t have to worry about him influencing me any longer,” you promised, voice hard. You attempted to ignore the emotions that came with speaking it out loud. He wasn’t worth the tears, you tried to tell yourself. 

“He finally did himself in,” George observed. 

“After I spoke with you yesterday,” you explained. 

“Good to be rid of him then,” Fred said.

“You always did deserve better.” 

“Truly so.” 

All three of you heard footsteps coming down the hallway at the same time. A panicked look came across your face but they remained entirely calm. George grabbed the book off your lap and helped you up. You gazed at him, confused, as he led you to a hallway that hadn’t seemed to be there before. You gasped, looking around, somehow within the walls of Hogwarts. 

“How did you know this was here?” you questioned in awe. 

“Lucky guess,” George promised, hand still holding your arm. It was a tighter space than you had been in before. You heard whoever was walking go past. You remained where you were, looking up at him with curious eyes. 

“This wasn’t a guess. What do you two know?” 

“More than you,” Fred assured. You scoffed, though the laughter was pleasant. You moved away from George, leaning against the wall. 

“You Gryffindors act like Slytherins are the sneaky ones,” you mused. 

“To be fair, a Slytherin created the Chamber of Secrets didn’t he?” You shrugged at the observation. 

“Alright Weasley’s let me out of the walls.” 

- 

It was unexpected, just how drawn you felt to the twins. Especially George. You had never bothered to give them the time of day when you were with Draco. George was easy going when you needed emotional attention. They were light hearted and funny. You needed light hearted and funny. 

The Hogsmeade trip was the highlight of everyone’s month. Getting to leave the school was exciting, even if your school was a literal castle. You had always gone with Draco, even before the two of you dated. Still you forced yourself to get ready, bundle up into a scarf and hat, promising yourself a good time. 

“Hey!” You turned to find George, a smile plastered on his face. He was cozied up for the cold as well, though he was without the twin that usually trailed behind him. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite Gryfindor,” you mused. “Where’s Fred?” 

“Fred had to stay behind and make up a test for Snape. I offered to help him cheat but he’s already on the terribly bad side of that teacher and decided to fend for himself,” George explained. 

“Well better that than to end up having detention for the next month.” 

“Would you care to be my companion on this trip?” he asked, bowing dramatically and offering a hand. You laughed gently, shivering. It was starting to snow. You took his hand. 

“My red knight,” you teased. He threw his arm around you. You tried not to lean into him, or feel anything at all. You had just broken up with Draco. 

Well, Draco had just broken up with you. 

“Honeydukes?” he asked. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

-

You stopped in for some butter beer and walked around until you were too cold to be outside. By the time you entered Honeydukes you were full and George had a butterbeer foam mustache. You pointed at it, shivering from the new warmth of the shop. 

“I’ve been trying to grow one,” he admitted, not wiping it away. 

“It is a good look,” you admitted, laughing. 

“You think so? Perhaps I could draw one on with some make-up pencils.”

“They’ve got to have some fake mustaches around here somewhere.” George gravitated towards the candles which had some prank ones mixed within them. 

“Which should I bring back to Fred?” he questioned. “I was sorry he had to miss today.” 

“One of those,” you said, pointing at the ones that explode when you light them. “He’d love that.” 

“You’re absolutely right Miss Slytherin. I’m glad you’ve got to come along with me.” 

“Me too,” you said earnestly. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun at Hogsmeade. Your smile lingered more now. George could almost swear you were glowing. It made him want to take you aside, keep you to himself. He refrained and offered you a candle to smell. You leaned in, a serene look going over your face as you breathed in. You made a twisted face. 

“What is that one?” “Firewood.”

“That’s an awful candle!” 

You were laughing when Draco saw you. It was odd, going to Hogsmeade without you. He found himself unable to figure out what he wanted to do. Usually you dragged him around the shops and he ended up buying something you didn’t need. 

Seeing you so happy made his stomach churn. With a Weasley no less. He had thought you would still be heartbroken. He would be lying if he still wasn’t a tad torn up himself.  But you looked immensely unaffected by the lack of him around. 

You looked happier. 

“Goyle, go see what they’re getting,” Draco spat. His friend nodded, eyeing him suspiciously before slinking through the crowd of people. 

“Smell this one,” you said, offering another disgusting one. “You should get this one for Fred, if you’re going to get him the chocolate frog like a good brother. It’s only…” you trailed off, feeling Draco’s gaze. You caught his eye. At the same time George saw Goyle, coming to do Malfoy’s dirty work. 

“Oh bloody hell,” George muttered. He gave you the things he was holding and turned to Goyle who looked like a deer caught in headlights. George grabbed him by the scarf, dragging him over to Draco. 

Draco had never noticed how tall George Weasley was. 

“Made your minion come and do your dirty work, did you?” George questioned. You rushed forward, leaving your things on the table where you were at. 

“What’s your end goal here Weasley? Have you gotten into her pants yet?” Draco questioned, voice like venom. George shoved Goyle at Draco, almost causing both of them to fall over. 

“Listen here Malfoy-” 

“George he isn’t worth it,” you promised, grabbing his shoulder.

“Oh no, let him speak.” Draco stepped up, sizing up the twin. “What, did she call my name instead of yours?” There was nothing you could have done to stop George. He was already throwing the punch before you could even register Draco’s words. 

Draco staggered, hand up to his nose. 

“Watch your tongue Malfoy,” George seethed. You had never seen him so worked up before. You weren’t even sure he knew how to get angry, let alone through a punch as good as that one. Draco’s nose was bleeding, dripping down his chin. Goyle turned to his friend, eyes wide in shock. Hexes were one thing. An actual assault was something completely different. 

“George come on,” you hissed, pulling him away. This time George listened, allowing you to drag him out of the shop. You didn’t speak until you had left the scene completely, landing on one of the hills just outside of Hogsmead. The snow had piled up. You could see the footsteps you took here.

George had calmed down, the red almost completely gone from his face. 

“God George,” you hissed, grabbing his wrist. You looked at his knuckles, now slightly bruised from the impact on Draco’s face. 

“I don’t regret it,” he promised. His general joy was back. 

“Why are you being so nice to me? After all Draco and I put you through, I didn’t deserve that,” you questioned. 

“Fred and I agree, it was always more Malfoy than you.” He paused, gazing down at you. “And I always did think you deserved better than him.” His voice was quieter now. 

“Like who?” you asked before you could even process his words. “You?” You meant for it to come out like a joke but your tone was too soft to have it be read as one. There was a moment of silence. You smiled at his stunned face. You had caught him off guard and he wasn’t sure how to answer. 

“Well yes. I suppose,” George said finally. You smiled. You could feel the cold on your face, making your movement slower than usual but the joy was there either way. 

“Good then.” 

“Good?” he asked. You were still holding his wrist, so close to his hand. 

“We’re in agreement.” He scoffed.

“Agreement then.” 

“Yes. Agreement.” 

“Love, I’m going to kiss you now.” The words sent shivers down your spine. 

“Alright,” you breathed. His lips were warmer than yours. He didn’t allow you to get away with just a peck. He said he would kiss you and he meant it. You were smiling against the kiss, too stunned to do much else than kiss him back. 

When you pulled away you noticed one of his hands were on your side and he had started to hold the one that was once holding his wrist. You could see your breath in the cold but you could see him more clearly. 

“Let’s go back to the school and get a bandage for your hand,” you said quietly. He nodded, keeping your hands intertwined. 

“Just a moment.” He took off his scarf, the red and gold one that signified his house colors. He took off yours, the Slytherin green and black. He wrapped his own scarf around your neck and you watched him with wonderstruck eyes. The scarf smelled like him. It was warm with his body heat. He lazily put yours over his neck. “Alright we can go now.” 

-

Fred was in the Gryffindor common room when you got back. The school was empty, sans the portraits, ghosts and a few stragglers. Everyone was still going about enjoying their day outside of the grounds. 

“What did you bring me?” Fred questioned, standing up from the couch beside the fire. You had started to shed your layers, taking off your gloves and hat. “You have a severe case of hat hair Slytherin,” he noted. 

“George punched Draco in the face,” you explained brightly. 

“Good for him.” He patted George on the back. “He had it coming.” 

“So we had to run away,” you explained. “Hence, the empty hands.” Fred rolled his eyes. 

“You could have stolen something but alas.” George gave his twin a gaze that caused Fred to pause. There was a beat of silence. “I think I left something in the dorms...” he said, slowly, eyes squinted. 

“Yes that sounds right.” 

Fred backed away, a cheeky smile on his face. 

“Faster Fred,” you said, smiling. You couldn’t remember the last time you had smiled this much. He took the hint and scurried up the stairs. George sat in front of the fire. You looked around for some bandages, finding a familiar box of supplies that you had in the Slytherin common room. You sat beside him, helping him take off his large jacket. 

“You can help take off the rest of my clothing if you would like Slytherin.” You flushed, unable to meet his eyes. 

“I’d like to wrap up your hand first.” 

“First implies a second thing,” he mused. 

“Yes, yes it does.” You finally looked up at his face. He was gazing at you with a look Draco had never even understood. George’s eyes had softened, the lines on the side of his face turned downward. His lips were parted expectantly. “Thank you for today,” you whispered. 

“I’d like to do it again, if you’re up for it.” 

“Punching Draco or kissing me?” 

“Honestly I wouldn’t mind doing both again. But I was talking about the kissing thing.” You giggled. You actually giggled. 

“I already promised that. Don’t be so eager George.”

“I will be as eager as I want to.” 

You gently joked at each other as you wrapped up his knuckles, getting warmer by the fire. He played with his scarf around your neck. He distracted you by trailing his fingers across your jaw. He promised to memorize your face. 

You promised to memorize his.

Harry Potter Tag List:

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[blossomwritesthings]

Hii one I loved your recent Minho sickfic, I was wondering if you could write one the other way around but with Felix where he’s sick, (maybe he has a migraine) and the reader takes care of him. 🙁❤️❓

𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!felix. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. a lot of angst. felix is sick (with a migraine). reader is soft and caring for him. felix kinda has low self-esteem/doubts about his worth. slight possessive behavior from y/n (in a soft way!!). pet names (affectionately). reader praises felix a ton. toothe-rotting cuteness.

word count: 3.9k

summary: when your boyfriend felix unexpectedly falls ill with a bad migraine, you automatically throw yourself into the caretaker role. but maybe he needs more than just some pills to relieve the pain... maybe, all the medicine he really needs is you.

a/n: this was a fun request to write because having personally suffered from debilitating migraines since i was a little girl, i enjoyed exploring what this could look like for felix, while also incorporating my own experiences with these kinds of symptoms into the fic. lix is so beautiful and I just want to wrap my arms around him and give him a nice, long hug. 🥹💖 NO ONE touch me rn- i'm in my soft felix hours!!! 😭 hope you like this, anon... thanks for requesting! :))

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

 You automatically knew something was wrong the moment you stepped into a dark apartment. As the front door slammed behind you, you fumbled to find the nearby light switch before turning it on, throwing the nearby kitchen-dining room into a flood of warm light. 

 Because although this was the time when you usually arrived home from work to find your boyfriend, Felix, sprawled out across the living room couch relaxing and playing his favourite video games on the large tv, the space was devoid of any life. 

 Strange. 

 With a glance at the clock inlaid within the stovetop, it read just a little past ten in the evening. Surely, he must not have been home, otherwise, at least a few lights would be switched on in the apartment. He was probably still at the company, working his ass off in practice or doing vocals lessons. Typical Lee Felix. 

A content sigh fled from your lips as you placed your bag down atop the kitchen counter, your shoulder feeling instant relief from the absence. You closed your eyes for a few moments, basking in the utter silence of the apartment before you made your way into the only bedroom just off to the left. Your shared place with your boyfriend wasn’t very spacious, but it was affordable, and it was your own, and that’s all that mattered. 

 Upon entering the pitch-black bedroom, you let out a low grumble to yourself, “We should just keep on a damn nightlight for when we’re away,” you stumbled about in the darkness before you came in contact with your nightstand and switched on the light. 

 And as soon as the room erupted in brightness, you noticed the figure curled up on the bed. For a moment, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Stopping there, and slowing for a few seconds. Because… had someone broken into your place? A fan, perhaps? Or… a stalker? 

But then, almost immediately after those terrifying thoughts crossed your mind, you recognized the small body. 

 You recognized it all too well. 

 Without even thinking about your next actions, you were flying across the small bedroom. Bending down towards the crumpled form, your gaze came in contact with glassy, dark brown eyes. 

 “Felix- what are you-” You began in disbelief, completely taken aback by his presence. 

 But then he was wincing in pain, closing his eyes again, plush bottom lip quivering just a little bit. “T-The light… can you please turn it off?” His voice was gravelly and low like it hadn’t been used in a while. 

 You didn’t even have to ask why, because you already knew the answer to his odd request. 

  A migraine. 

 And if he was asking for the lights to be off, it must’ve been pretty bad. 

So after you were finished switching off the lamp on your nightstand, you made for the large bay window that was on the other side of the room. You slowly pulled open the curtains until just a sliver of light was filtering through the black-out fabric. After all, you still had to see. 

 Then you were flitting over to Felix again, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed, tilting into him. You reached up to his head and carded a few fingers through his sandy-blonde hair gently. “How long have you had it?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice quiet. His having a migraine wasn’t a new thing. He was highly susceptibly to head pain, and would regularly get headaches throughout the month. But the migraines were always the worst of it all. And with the light sensitivity? That wasn’t a good sign… 

“Woke up with it,” he said in a soft voice. Just then, he cracked his eyes open weakly, his gaze locking with yours. The furrow between his brows and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks told you all you needed to know about the discomfort he was in. 

 “Which number is this one?” Your fingers took to massaging his scalp in languid increments, watching the way his face scrunched up in apparent relief. 

 “Sixth this month.” 

 “Wow-” You began, your heart throbbing for him. You hated seeing your loving boyfriend in so much pain. And it had already happened six times that month. “What do you think it’s from?” 

 “Stress, probably… that’s what Chan said, anyway.” 

 “What are you so stressed about?” You prodded him, pushing a few of his light strands from out of his eyesight. 

 He groaned and pushed his face into his pillow. “What am I not stressed about?” His voice was muffled against the downy feathers, but you still heard it nonetheless. “It’s… everything, and yet nothing, all at the same time.” 

 “Lix…” You began, voice hesitant, sending a hush across the bedroom. Your fingers stopped their movement in his hairline, your eyes racking over his form. He was clad in his favourite oversized dark blue graphic t-shirt that had a scene from a cartoon that he had grown up watching in Australia. Loose black sweatpants fit snugly around his waist, and he was halfway wrapped up in your bed’s thick duvet comforter. “I’m worried about you…” You trailed off as he moved his head away from his pillow. 

 Biting down hard on his bottom lip, his eyes took on a certain pleading kind of light. “Please… don’t stop.” He all but whispered, motioning towards your fingers that were resting gently atop his head. And the pitiful look on his face just then, the way his voice cracked just a little bit from his misery, forced your chest to squeeze with hurt. 

 “This isn’t healthy for you, baby,” you started up again on the massaging, eliciting a low moan of relief to fall from your boyfriend’s lips. “You need to take a break, yeah?” 

 “How can I possibly do that when everyone is depending on me?” He chuckled in a dry, humorless kind of way. “Besides, this won’t be forever. I’m just getting them a ton because we’re preparing for the new repack and it’s hell at the company right now.” 

 “Still…” Your voice trailed off, as your fingers fled from his hair and swept over one of his temples. His eyelids fluttered at the delicate press of your digits against his heated skin, and a pleased smile spread across your lips. At least you knew how to help him in moments like these. “I just hate to see you feeling so shitty, you know? Want my baby to be healthy all of the time.” 

 At your words, Felix turned from his side so that his back was flush against the mattress. His hair was mussed from sleep and your fingers running through it, his freckled cheeks dusted in light pink from your words. “Damn, have I ever told you how much I love you?” 

 You took a finger and playfully poked at his side, “Yeah, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to tell me again…” You wiggled your eyebrows in a taunting kind of way. 

 And the last thing you saw was his sly grin before he was pulling you towards him. In an instant, he had his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to his warm, comfy body and peppering your face with dozens of light kisses. “Love you… so much, angel.” He mumbled against your skin, pecking each of your cheeks. “Love the way you take care of me, hmm?” 

 You chuckled at that, pressing your mouth against his in a loving, serene kiss. “And I love you too,” you started, before positioning yourself away from him and his searching mouth. “Which is why I wanna take care of you tonight. Will you let me, baby boy?” 

 He tilted in just then and pushed a fervent kiss against your lips once more. “Only if you’ll let me do the same next time you’re feeling shitty.” He rose a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way. And you knew, at that moment, he wasn’t going to budge. Everything with him was reciprocal. If you helped him in any way, loved him in any form, he felt obligated to return it - usually tenfold. 

 So you merely nodded your head in agreement, “Fine, I’ll allow you to help me next time I’m down and out.” You blew a few raspberry kisses against his cheeks, making him huff out a deep-throated laugh. Then you were separating yourself from him completely. “Now, onto the real business of things… have you eaten anything all day?” 

 It was a common occurrence for him to skip all meals entirely when he had a bad migraine, so it was no surprise to you when the look on his face turned slightly meek.“I just had a light breakfast so that I could take my medicine, but it’s definitely worn off by now, so I need to take some more” 

 Standing up from the bed in one fluid motion, you rested your hands against your hips in determination. “Then it’s set- I’ll make you dinner.” 

 He peered up at you through his wispy blonde fringe, “B-But you just got home from work and-”

 You quickly held a finger up to your lips to silence any of his protests. “Ah- remember what you promised me, baby? That you’d let me take care of you tonight?” You sent him a glare, yet there was not a threat to be had in it. 

 A tiny smirk cracked across his lips, “Yeah, yeah- I remember…” He rolled his eyes at you, before snuggling further down into the bed. He was a literal blanket burrito- covered in sheets and the thick duvet coverlet. 

 “Anything you’d like in particular?” 

 “Nah- I love everything you cook.” 

 You tossed him a laugh as you headed for the closed bedroom door, “Ha- tell that to Minho… who’s apparently, the local sous chef around these parts.” 

 As you filtered out of the bedroom, you heard your boyfriend’s laugh follow behind you. At least your presence could take his mind off of the pain. He always said it did. He told you on multiple occasions how having you around him in times like these helped to alleviate some of the discomfort in his head. How, you were like a cooling salve to the throbbing in his temples, always there to support him and give him love when he needed it the most. 

 That night, you awoke to the feeling of shifting on Felix’s side of the bed. Gradually peeling your eyes open and turning your head on your pillow, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He was sitting up, spine curved, shoulders drawn low, desperately holding his head in his hands. 

 “Baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, concern dripping into your tone as sleep immediately left you. The sight of his slouched form made your heart race because you despised seeing him in such a poor state. 

 “Nauseous.” Is all he could manage to garble out, voice cracking with anguish.

 You chewed on your lip anxiously, pushing yourself up from your pillow and nearing him. You grabbed Felix’s hand, languidly threading your fingers together with his and squeezing gently. “What do you need from me, babe?” You whispered, drawing small patterns against his warm palm with one of your thumbs. 

 A shudder ran through the length of him, as he clutched at his sandy-blonde roots in bated silence, “N-Nothing helps at this point…” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slowly. 

 “Do you want me to rub your head like earlier?” One of your hands traveled up his spine, stopping just at the nape of his neck. You began to massage circles into his scalp. “Will that help you feel better, Lix?” 

 Then unexpectedly, he was grabbing ahold of your hand in one swift movement. Your eyes widened in surprise at the frantic look in his eyes just then, as they stared back at you in utter distress. “P-Please, don’t touch my head… just makes me feel worse.” 

 You pulled him towards you, enveloping him in a loose hug. He practically melted in your embrace, his muscles softening at your touch. His entire body was so warm - it always was, like he was your very own heated teddy bear - and you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing lightly. “Okay, baby. Whatever you need, I’m here for you, okay?” Your lips found his face in the darkness, and you pressed delicate kisses against his skin. When your mouths collided, you kissed him with all of the gentlenesses in the world, and for a few beats, he returned the kisses. 

 After heavy silence had washed over the bedroom, casting everything in a delicate, forlorn kind of aura, you pulled away from him to catch your breath. And even in the darkness of the room, you could see the hint of pink dusted across your boyfriend’s cheeks. “L-Love the way you kiss me, angel,” he whispered, leaning into you to press another tentative kiss against your lips.

 “I’ve always adored your beautiful mouth,” you replied, a tiny smile cracking across your lips when you pulled apart for air once more. You reached up to him then, tracing a finger around the line of his mouth. “So pretty for only me.” Your hand moved away then, as you cupped one of his warm cheeks with your palm, and he instantly eased into your touch. He had told you in the past how your kisses always made him feel a little better. At the height of his agonizing migraines, he said your lips were like a healing cure for him. 

 And for a few moments, it felt like the potion had worked. A small, content smile adorned your boyfriend’s face, and the perpetual furrow in his brow loosened. His eyes brightened just a little bit at your compliment - at your praises - because he always loved when you said quiet, loving words to him. 

 But then, everything fell apart again- 

 You watched in suddenly tense silence, as his entire body nearly doubled over in pain, spine going completely rigid, ears flushing red, bottom lip trembling. 

 Then came the glossy eyes. You recognized them instantly, for it was an absolute sign of what was to come. 

 In a flash of limbs, he was throwing off the duvet coverlet that he had been wrapped up in, racing to the bathroom with you right on his tail. 

 He threw the toilet seat open just in time as he inclined over the basin, emptying the little contents that were left in his stomach. You hadn’t made him a big dinner - it had only consisted of some scrambled eggs and a small bowl of mixed berries. But even still, it was enough to make him nauseous. 

 “Let it all out, baby,” you encouraged. You were at his side throughout it all, rubbing his back gently as Felix retched up everything he could muster, his stomach spasming with the effort. “It’s gonna be okay…” It fucking hurt you so much to see him in such a condition. You despised seeing the love of your life - your other half - suffering so much. 

 It seemed like it lasted forever, but finally- he pushed away from the basin with a deep groan. You quickly leaned over him and ripped up some toilet paper for him to wipe his mouth with. 

 And when you handed it to him, you quickly realized that his eyes were misty, tears running down either of his cheeks, leaving wet tracks behind on his smoothe skin. The sight of your loving boyfriend breaking down irrevocably caused your heart to crack open into two ugly pieces, and you once again wrung your arms around his hips, bringing him into your chest and giving him a tight hug. You two sunk to the cold tiled bathroom floor, close to the toilet. 

 “I-I’m sorry, angel,” he hiccuped in between his sobs. He buried his face into the crook of your shoulder like he was ashamed of what had just happened. 

 “Don’t apologize, Felix.” You said, trying to put some sternness in your voice. Because why in the world did he have to apologize to you? You were his girlfriend, for fucks sake- taking care of him when he felt shitty was the most basic of things for you to do. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” 

 “Y-Yeah, but you’re always taking care of me… it’s a burden on your shoulders that you didn’t sign up for.” He practically wailed, his tears leaving wet stains against your pajama shirt. 

 “I want to take care of you, baby. I fucking love you, and I care about you. And don’t ever say that you’re a burden to me because you’re not.” You tried not to raise your voice in that tender moment, but his words just fueled the deep fire that was always simultaneously burning inside of you. 

 Because he had said such things before, in the past, when the mean and abusive comments online had gotten to him. When it seemed like everyone thought he was a burden, so he had just assumed that he was one to you as well. But in reality, that was the farthest thing from the truth. He wasn’t a burden to anyone; he was the light to so many people’s lives, but especially to yours. He brightened up your day with just his smile alone, and the way that he loved you - wholly and irrevocably - was such an exquisite thing. 

 “You really m-mean that?” His voice splintered at the end of his words, as he hugged you a little tighter, nestling his head into your warmth. 

 “Of course I fucking mean it, Lix,” you began, smoothing down his hair with a palm. “You’re the light of my world- the reason my life is so complete. And I’ll do anything for you.” At that, you were pulling him away from your chest. 

 The tip of his nose was pink and his eyes were bloodshot from the tears. And with one look into his shiny, deep brown eyes, which were dancing with so many different emotions, your heart broke just a little bit more in the pit of your chest. With gentle fingers, your thumbs wiped away his excess tears. At least the crying had stopped. 

 “Please don’t cry, baby,” you whispered to him, desperation dripping into your tone. “I hate to see you cry, Lixie.” You used the nickname that he always liked coming from you, and watched in silence, as it brightened his face just a little bit. 

 “O-Okay,” he nodded his head slowly, hand finding yours and squeezing your fingers there. “I’ll try… and, I don’t want to feel this way anymore, so I’m going to do everything in my power to not get so stressed out.”

 “That’s my good boy,” you laughed softly, reaching up to his head and gently ruffling his hair playfully. Your eyes flitted down to his face, which was shaded a crimson red from your words. You always loved to rile him up, even in the direst of moments. Seeing him blush so furiously did something wonderful to your ego. His blushes were always so... adorable. “How do you feel now?” 

 “A little better… I think that helped,” he canted his head to the porcelain toilet that was just beside the two of you, not wanting to even spell out the words to what had just happened. 

 “See, baby? I told you that you’d feel better,” you gave his shoulder a nudge, offering him a tiny smile. “Now, do you wanna brush your teeth, and then we can get back into bed?” 

 His eyes pulled away from the toilet and locked with yours, and thankfully- a little bit of that Lee Felix sparkle was back in them. Shining in his eyes, although dully. But at least it was there, even if it was a small amount. “Yeah… I’d like that very much.” 

 And with that, you took both of his hands and helped to hoist him up from the hard-tiled floor that the two of you had been sitting on for the last few minutes. You gently brushed his sandy-blonde hair out of his face as he worked at the sink, and when he was done, led him out of the bathroom and back to bed. 

 Leaning down into him, you tucked your boyfriend into bed, fitting the thick white duvet around his small frame. “Are you comfy?” You asked, as you bent forwards and pressed a kiss against his exposed forehead. 

 “No, not until I’m holding onto you,” he said in that deep voice of his, a sardonic smirk widening across his lips. Then, his hands were winding around your forearms, and you were yanked towards him. 

 You landed on top of his chest with a huff, sending a mirthful glare up his way. “I can hardly imagine that this is going to relieve your migraine.” Nevertheless, his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your bodies close together. 

 “You must highly doubt the power that your cuddling abilities have over me,” he laughed, and at that moment, it felt like it was the first time that he had done so in ages. Gone was the bleary-eyed shaking Felix from before, in the bathroom. That man had been replaced with your Lix… all bright smiles and tinkling laughter making your chest pound with love. 

 “So I guess we’re just gonna fall asleep this way, then?” You rose an eyebrow his way, earning a dark chuckle from your boyfriend. 

 “Only if you want to.” 

 “Oh, I fully intend to lay here until I am physically forced to move. However, I’m just wondering if you’re up for that challenge.” 

 “Are you fucking kidding me, angel?” He tilted up to you then, pressing a fervent kiss against your lips. “If I could be joined to your hip for the rest of my life, I think I’d take up the offer.” 

 A wide smile broke across your face. “It’s settled then, I’ll be staying right here for the foreseeable future.” You said, pressing a light peck against the warm skin of one of his cheeks. 

 Just then, the both of you erupted into a fit of giggles, as Felix squeezed his arms around you tight, and you gave him slobbery kisses on his nose and forehead. 

 And all at once, the pain and heartache and suffering were forgotten, as the air around the two of you danced with love and happiness. Pure adoration glittered in Felix’s eyes, shining across his face in a wide grin. And you were almost positive that your face was mimicking his expression- which was made clear by the warmth that bloomed across your cheeks at his arms squeezing your waist tightly, and how your soul fluttered just a little bit at the way his perfect mouth kissed you again and again.

 Because he wasn’t a burden. 

 He never had been one, and he never was going to be one. 

 Lee Felix was perfect just the way he was; small frame, fragile spirit, migraines and all. 

 All of it was utterly perfect. 

 He was like an ethereal little pixie, all rainbows and sparkles and butterflies, and everything pretty and warm and bright in the world. 

 And the best part of it all? 

 Was that he was all yours. 

 And you weren’t planning on sharing all of him with the rest of the world - you were only going to allow the outer-most parts of him for everyone else to see and cherish. 

 But the most-beautiful bits of his spirit? 

 Of his soul?

 The tender moments, the sweet kisses, the serene smiles, the silky words? 

 Yeah, you were going to keep those locked away nice and tight inside your heart, so that only you had access to the innermost parts of Lee Felix. 

 Fin. 

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Awwwww, I loved your tony fic 🥹 I need to make a request for you. Fem reader is dating tony, and she's virgin (legal age, of course hehe), but she's ready to give her virginity to tony, he's the most romantic and caring with her, the cutest lovemaking, please please ❤️

Touched for the very first time

PAIRING | Tony Stark x Virgin!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.9K

SUMMARY | You and Tony have been going steady for a while, and you're finally ready to take the next step in your relationship. Tony wants to make sure your first time will be unforgettable and takes out all the stops to make you feel like the most special and beautiful woman on earth, which you will always be in his eyes.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Age gap (Reader is in her mid 20's, Tony is in his late 30's), smut [ fingering, protected sex, implied aftercare ].

A/N | Oh, dear Nonnie, thank you for this lovely request! I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope you will enjoy it too! I'm sorry it took me longer than expected, but I hope it will be worth the wait! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist

It is a rainy Sunday night, and you and Tony enjoy a simple dinner with some Italian take-out and a sappy rom-com on the television. These nights are your favorite since you have already spent the entire day by his side in his lab and are enjoying a relaxing evening in the Compound.

However, there is something on your mind, and you need to figure out how to bring it up to your boyfriend. The two of you have talked about the fact that you're still a virgin, and he is very understanding, for which you are incredibly thankful. Right now, however, you're ready to take the next step in your relationship, but you don't know how to tell him.

Tony can feel your eyes practically burn a hole in the side of his head, so he turns his head to yours after pausing the tv. "Is there something wrong, Bubble Butt?" he asks, and you immediately turn bright red at the nickname he gave you when you started dating.

"I, uh, no. I'm sorry, I was just lost in my thoughts, is all," you say, but the flush on your cheeks doesn't go away when Tony keeps staring at you like that.

"And am I allowed to know what you are thinking about?" He asks, taking your hands in his to calm you down. "If there's something on your mind, you know you can tell me, right? Without judgment," he says, and you nod.

"Yeah, it's just… a little uncomfortable for me to talk about," you tell him as the red color on your cheeks deepens even more. "I… Uhm, I want you… to… well Iwantyoutotakemyvirginity," you ramble, but he doesn't quite hear you.

"What is that you said?" He asks, tilting his head slightly to ensure he can hear you.

"I'm ready to take the next step in our relationship, and I would like you to take my virginity," you say as your eyes are screwed shut.

"Okay, as much as I'd love to do that, I want us to talk it through first. It's not a decision to take lightly, so I'd like to talk about it," he says, and you nod.

"Okay," you whisper, cuddling into his side for now.

"First of all, I'm honored that you're asking this of me, but I want to do it right and make it absolutely unforgettable for you. You only have this chance once, so I want to make it special for you, Bubble Butt," he says, and it makes you smile to yourself.

"I appreciate that, but how were you planning on making it special?" You ask, wondering about what he is planning.

"I would like to make it an entire special day, so I would love for you to have a morning at the spa for a massage and get your nails done, both mani- and pedicure. Afterward, I want you to pick out the most beautiful dress and lingerie. I hope you can wear it to the restaurant I'm taking you to that evening. Afterward, I want to make sweet love to you," he says, and your insides are feeling warm and fuzzy at that idea.

"That sounds like the perfect way to do it," you tell him, and you sit up, letting him capture your lips with his pink, soft ones as you moan at the thought. The rest of the evening is spent with many cuddles and kisses, unable to leave each other alone for even a few seconds.

When it's time to go to bed, Tony grabs you and carries you over to the bedroom, plopping you down with a soft thud. "I love you, Bubble Butt," he says, and you grin big, enjoying the nickname he always calls you.

You still remember the first time he called you that in front of all the Avengers. You were over at the Compound and had met everyone for the first time since you weren't an Avenger or a part of S.H.I.E.L.D., to begin with.

He just introduced you to all of them, and now he pulls out your chair like a true gentleman. "Here you go, Bubble Butt," he says, and you sit down with a polite smile, but the both of you are getting a lot of weird looks from everyone.

"What? I think it's sweet he calls me that! Right, Bubba?" you ask Tony and all he can see is pure adoration in your eyes. He nodded in response before leaning over for a small kiss.

The morning you and Tony had talked about finally arrived, and now you're getting ready to go to the beauty salon. He has booked an entire morning for you to get a massage, a full body wax (which you requested), and have your nails done.

You step out of the shower and get ready for the day, putting your hair in a ponytail and grabbing your glasses, not wanting to bother with contact lenses today. You wear a black and brown outfit, ready to take on the day ahead.

Tony invited you to sleep with him at the Compound last night, and you happily agreed; you always love sleeping over there because he has a huge bed, a luxury you can't afford for your small apartment.

Tony already left for an early meeting, and you know he's in his lab working right now, so that's where you're heading; ready to say goodbye for now.

When you open the door, he immediately notices you, and his face turns into a big smile, which Bruce and Steve notice, giving each other a knowing look. "Good morning, Bubble Butt; you look gorgeous today!" he says as he walks over to you.

"Mornin' Bubba. Thank you, I'm heading out to the beauty salon right now, so I'm just saying goodbye," you tell him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him closer, one of his hands on your cheek.

"I can't wait to see how much more beautiful you will be once you come back," he whispers in your ear before placing a soft kiss underneath it, teasing just ever so slightly. "I'll probably be busy when you return, but you can let yourself into my apartment and start getting ready for dinner. I'll be up there no later than 6 PM," Tony tells you, and you nod in agreement.

"Okay, good luck with work today. And I can't wait to see you again tonight," you say as you pull him closer by the back of his neck, capturing his lips in a breathtaking kiss. When the two of you pull apart, your biggest grin is on your face, and you wave goodbye to Steve and Bruce. "Bye, guys, it was nice seeing you again!" with that, you're on your way.

Tony hands you one of the keys to his car, and you walk over to it, opening it when you're close. You usually don't enjoy driving his cars, but his newest Tesla was the exception to his rule. Every time you borrow a car, it's this one since it's the least intimidating in your eyes.

The drive to the beauty salon is smooth, and you arrive on time, meaning you can immediately go on with your massage first. "Good morning, I'll be your-"is all the guy who massages you says before stopping mid-sentence.

"Bucky? You are a massage therapist here?" You ask, seeing the super soldier in his white tank top and jeans. His hair is slicked back into a high bun, making him look stunning. "Since when?"

"I've recently started working here a few days a week to get a break from being an Avenger. The calm here relaxes me too, and I enjoy putting my metal arm to good use," he explains as he shows you his metal arm.

"Wow, that's so cool! Sorry if I'm overstepping here, but do you mind if I touch it?" You ask, utterly starstruck by the metal limb, tracing the gold patterns on the black metal.

"Uh, only if you want to," he says, a blush appearing on his cheeks. He's not used to someone reacting that way to his arm. He walks over to you and puts it in front of you, letting you grab it and look at it from all angles.

"This looks amazing…" you whisper, and it makes Bucky smile a little. "Well, thanks. But shall we get started with your massage? You can check it out more when you're at the Compound," he says, and you nod.

"Yeah, sorry," you say, and Bucky leaves the room for you to strip down and get ready on the bed, a towel lying over your butt, covering it. "You can come in, Bucky," you say, and you hear the door open.

The next hour is spent massaging your back, shoulders, and legs, getting you completely relaxed, and having a light conversation between you. "Alright, I'm all done, I will leave now, and Jessica will be with you shortly for your next appointment. It was nice seeing you again," he says, leaving with a smile and a small wave.

You didn't have to wait long for Jessica to arrive because you were barely seated and covered like usual, and she knocked on the door. "Come in!" You say, and a woman with a bubbly personality walks in the door.

"Hi, and welcome to New York Beauty! My name is Jessica - but you may call me Jess - and I believe we're doing a full body wax today. Is this your first time, or have you gotten this done before?" She asks while she prepares the wax and puts on gloves.

"I've gotten this done before, just not here. My boyfriend suggested I'd go here; he comes here often for massages," you tell her, and she nods.

The wax is also over before you know it, and you feel smooth like a baby butt when you're done and ready to pay. The girl at the front desk tells you the total, but you want to add a tip for both Bucky and Jessica. "Will you add a 50-dollar tip for both of them?" You ask, and she happily does.

When that's done, you walk out of the salon, and it's almost lunchtime, so you visit your favorite small bakery. You get your favorite pastry and some s'mores cookies for Tony, together with an iced coffee. When you're about to sit down, your phone rings, and it's Tony FaceTiming you.

You grab your AirPods out of your bag and put them in before answering Tony's call. "Hey, Bubba," you say as you put the phone against the napkin holder on the table, so you can eat.

"Hi Bubble Butt, how is everything going? Having fun without me today?" He asks, sitting down in his office with his own lunch.

"It would be more fun if you were here, but I guess it'll do," you chuckle. "Had a great massage, and I'm all smooth again, so I can't complain. Also, I got some of your favorite cookies!" You tell him excitedly, showing the small box they have been put into.

"Oh, you're way too good for me!" He exclaims with a slight grunt, thinking of the delicious cookies heading his way later. The rest of your lunches are spent with him on the phone until you go to your nail appointment.

"Sorry, Bubba, but I have to go to my nail appointment," you say, and after your goodbyes, you head out and walk there; it's close by, so you decide that's easier.

When you arrive at the salon, you tell the lady behind the desk you have an appointment for both a manicure and pedicure, and you're taken to a big chair for your pedicure first.

"What color are we doing today, ma'am?" The lady asks you, and you look over to all the colors on the wall, finally deciding on emerald green.

She makes quick work of both your feet and hands, and in less than 2 hours, you're done, ready to pick out a dress, a pair of black heels for tonight, and a set of lingerie in the same color as your nails.

You drove back to Tony's apartment around 4 PM, and Tony wouldn't be home for another 2 hours, so you decided to work from home a little; there were still a lot of emails that needed your attention.

By the time 5:30 PM rolls around, Tony is done with work, and he heads to his apartment instead of staying late for once, wanting to see you again. He puts his key in the lock and opens the door to some soft music, and he finds you on the couch with a blanket around you while working.

"Hi Bubble Butt," he says when you look at him walking in, immediately putting your laptop to the side and getting up to greet him. "Hey, Bubba, I'm happy to see you again!" You say as you jump into his arms, cuddling him like a koala bear.

"Shall we take a shower together?" You ask when you have pulled back a little to look at him. He doesn't answer you but walks to the big bathroom and puts you on the counter.

He undresses you and leaves kisses everywhere he can, his fingertips sliding over the places his lips can't reach. Once fully undressed, you give Tony the same treatment but get impatient as you know what's coming later tonight.

"I can see someone's a little eager, but I want to treat you right, Bubble Butt. It's the least I can do to make your first time absolutely special," Tony says, and you pout a little, which he quickly kisses away.

The shower took longer than expected because the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other, making the soaping and washing much more complicated than necessary. Still, the many shared kisses, cuddles, and sweet words were worth it.

You decided to change in the walk-in closet instead of in the bedroom with Tony because you wanted to surprise him with the outfit you got. You let your hair fall naturally around your shoulders just like Tony, and your makeup is relatively minimal to not take away from the outfit.

"Are you ready?" You ask and open the door just enough to poke your head through. He nods, and his mouth practically drops onto the floor when you walk out.

"Wow-"

"I had a feeling you would like this," you tell him, and you twirl a few times for him, feeling like an absolute goddess right now.

"I have one more surprise for you, Bubble Butt," he says and walks over to his nightstand, opening the drawer to find a big, square velvet box. He grabs it and walks over to you.

You open the box from him, revealing a gorgeous silver layered necklace. You turn over the rectangular pendant on the bottom and find a date. "Is that the day we first started dating?" you ask, and he nods.

"It is; I wanted you to wear it close to your heart so you would never forget it," he says, and you hold out the box so he can get the necklace out of it and hang it around your neck.

"I love it, Bubba. I can't believe you got me this after everything you've done for me so far," you say, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"I want nothing but the best for my best girl," he says, kissing you softly on your cheek.

Dinner went by way too fast for your liking since you were having so much fun with Tony, but you were also starting to get a little nervous about what was about to happen.

The two of you have made your way to the bedroom, and right now, Tony is peppering your neck with soft, sweet kisses to calm you down a little bit.

"Don't worry about what's going to happen, Angel. If you want to stop, you can always tell me, and we will stop. You can let me know if something's uncomfortable or painful, and we will stop. I won't ever do anything you're not okay with," he says, his thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

"I-I know, it's just... I'm nervous," you say with a shy smile, and you drop your line of sight to the floor.

"And that's perfectly normal, but I will take it easy tonight. I'm not going to overwhelm you with doing every single thing at once. Tonight is about you and your pleasure, and we will take it slow," he says, and you nod, feeling a little reassured now.

"Now, let's get you out of this dress and see what gorgeous lingerie you're hiding from me," he says, and you can't help but laugh at his comment.

He slides the dress off your shoulders, and it falls around your feet in a silky puddle so you can step out of it and show Tony your lingerie in its full effect.

"Wow..." he sighs at the sight of you covered by the emerald green lace. Your ass looks absolutely to die for, and you're showing him why he gave you the nickname 'Bubble Butt' right now.

Tony captures your lips in a sweet kiss but doesn't deepen it immediately, knowing he wouldn't be patient if he did that.

"Let's get you out of this suit, hm?" you tell him, and he nods, so you quickly take it off. Not long after, you're lying comfortably on the bed with your head on the pillows; Tony is lying beside you as his hand trails slowly over your body.

Your lingerie has already met the same faith as your dress and is lying on the floor, leaving you entirely bare for him.

Once his hands reach your thighs, he takes it slowly, letting your legs fall open when you're ready. His lips have found your neck again, and he's softly sucking on the spot below your ear, turning you into a moaning mess underneath his touch.

As if they have their own will, your legs spread, and Tony walks over to your glistening cunt, slowly tracing his fingers between your folds to find your clit.

"T-Tony, yes!" you say when he finds it and starts rubbing short, quick circles to tease you. Your back arches off the bed, and your head lulls to the side, giving him even more access to your neck.

"Yeah? Does that feel good, Bubble Butt?" he asks, and you nod, unable to respond right now, only soft moans coming out.

"This may be a little strange, but it's okay. Just relax," he says, and you do right before Tony finds his way down to your entrance and inserts a finger.

Your legs immediately close at the feeling since it's weird, but you don't push him away.

"F-Feels good," you say as he slowly moves his finger in and out of you, your legs releasing their grip on his wrist, and he speeds up ever so slightly.

"Do you think you're ready for one more?" he asks after getting used to having one of his fingers inside you. You nod in response, and before you know it, you feel very full.

"Oh, f-feels... feels odd," you manage to say, and he nods.

"It's okay, you can take it; I won't add any more. Just relax into my touch and experience the pleasure," he says, and you do.

He moves his thumb to your clit and starts thrusting in and out a little faster while stimulating your puffy clit at the same time, making you cum on his fingers in no time at all.

"T-Tony! Fuck!" you scream out as your hips buck up and into his movements, your back arching off the bed too.

"Such a pretty girl when you cum for me. You're doing amazing for me," he says as he rides out your orgasm with his fingers and pulls them out carefully.

"Are you ready for me, Bubble Butt?" he asks after you take a few minutes to come down from what happened.

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

Tony grabs a condom from the nightstand and rips open the package after taking his underwear off and revealing his hard cock. You can't help but reach out and wrap your hand around it.

"Oh, yes, that's so good, Baby," he says as you move up and down a couple times, getting used to the feel of him in your hand first.

Your eyes snap up to meet his, and even though he knows what you're thinking, tonight is all about you.

"Don't worry, Bubble Butt, you can have a taste next time. Tonight is all about you," he says before leaning over and capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss, your hands finding their way to his shoulders where your nails leave red marks as you accidentally scratch.

When he pulls back, he makes quick work of the condom and sits between your legs. "I'll go slow, I promise," he says before leaning in for another kiss.

His tip is pressing against your entrance, and just like he promised, he pushes in slowly, constantly giving you time to adjust while giving endless praises.

"Doing so well for me, you're amazing like this. Taking me so well; look at how well you're taking me right now. You feel so good," he says, and before you know it, he's buried deep inside you.

When the last bit sinks in, and he's completely buried, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in, followed by a long moan.

"Please, start moving. Feels so good inside me," you say, and he does, starting with slow movements, which make you moan even harder.

"G-god, I'm close!" you say after he picks up his pace and thrusts into it steadily, and his thumb finds his way to your clit to pull you over the edge.

"Keep squeezing like that, and I'll come too," Tony grunts, and you do, falling over the edge simultaneously as him. He rides both of your orgasms out, and when he's completely soft again, he finally pulls out, ready to take the condom off.

The two of you take a bath afterward and talk about the entire experience, if there is anything you did or didn't like, and if there's something you might want to try later.

It has been a couple of weeks since your first time with Tony, and you're finally at the Compound again. He was gone for a mission that took longer than expected, but you decided to surprise him with his favorite cookies.

You were quickly distracted, however, because you saw Bucky, Steve, and Nat when you walked by the living room.

"Hi guys, I'm sorry to interrupt," you say, but they don't mind.

"Hey, it's no problem! You're always welcome to interrupt when we're sitting here," Steve said reassuringly.

"Bucky? Can I finally take a closer look at your arm like you promised?" you ask, and he laughs loudly.

"Of course, you can, doll," he says, and you plop yourself down on the couch on his left side, completely enamored by his arm, the plates shifting when he makes specific movements and the black and gold design.

"So cool..." you whisper, and you don't notice Tony walking in too.

"Well, it appears I'm not getting my girlfriend back for a while," he jokes as he grabs the box of cookies and kisses you on your head.

"Yeah, yeah, see you later," you say with a slight wave, never tearing your eyes away from Bucky's arm. Right now, you're busy; you will catch up with Tony later.

[forever-rogue]

how about tasm!peter helping reader overcome anxiety, but she has a hard time expressing herself to others, even about anxiety. but peter wants to help comfort her no matter what 🤍 don't need to write this if you don't want lol

AN | Okay, this got away from me, but I think it’s so cute! There’s also a first kiss🥰❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.9k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter Parker was pretty. Really fucking pretty. 

That was one of the first things you’d noticed about him freshman year in your early morning biochem class. You learned, later on, that he was also incredibly kind, charming, and ridiculously smart. Like genius level smart. You knew he liked photography, which happened to be a hobby of your own. You wanted to be his friend; you’d thought many times about going up and speaking to him, but always talked yourself out of it.

Why would Peter Parker want to be your friend?

Instead you admired from afar, from a safe distance. But once you both graduated from ESU and went on to getting advanced degrees, you were sure that you’d never see him again. After all, New York was a huge city, and the odds that your lives would be intertwined enough to run into each other on a regular basis seemed slim to none. 

So - imagine your surprise when you started working as a research scientist at Biotech a few years and another degree later and you found that Peter Parker was starting at the same time as you. You’d done so well to keep your distance, to keep your feelings in check by being a silent admirer. But now, not only would you be seeing him every day…you’d be working closely with him in a lab all by yourself. 

You had no clue how you were going to survive, and part of you was tempted to quit and look for a different job, but you’d worked so long and so hard for this position that you weren’t going to just give it up. You were just going to have to suck it up. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And it worked, surprisingly. Peter was nothing if not polite and kind, and honestly he was a dream to work with. The two of you had a certain synchronicity that just was hard to put into words, but you complimented perfectly. Despite your initial fear, working in a lab with Peter went well. The worst part was that it made it all the more easy to fall for him. But you doubted he would ever see you as anything other than the girl at work. 

“Hey,” Peter softly interrupted your silent prayer to release any feelings for him with a soft smile. It was getting later into the evening and you were both getting ready to leave for the weekend. You flashed him a smile in response but slipped on your coat, “I was wondering…umm, do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

No way. No freaking way was Peter Parker asking you to get dinner. Right? Right?

“I-I’m sorry,” you blinked a few times and looked at him with wide eyes. His cheeks flushed a pretty pastel shade of pink as he nervously ran a hand through his hair, “what did you say?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner,” he repeated softly, shrugging one of his shoulders lightly, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course. I just thought it might be nice to spend some time outside of work together.”

“You want to spend time with me?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You needed to make an appointment to get your ears checked. Peter would never want to be with you outside of work. Or, if anything, he might have been so lonely that he welcomed anyone’s company, “me?”

“Yes you,” he laughed softly and it was a sound you’d memorized over the years but still made your knees weak. He took a step closer and bit his lip for a moment, “let me clarify so we’re both on the same page - I, Peter Parker, am asking you, you, if you’d like to go out and dinner.”

“Oh,” every dream you’d ever had of Peter seemed to be coming true then and there. Peter liked you, Peter wanted to spend time with you; maybe you’d never been invisible to him after all. But no. You couldn’t…you just couldn’t. You were sure if anything he’d spend about ten minutes with you alone and he’d grow bored of you and make some excuse to leave. The idea that Peter would end up being bored of you was enough to make you never want to speak again, “umm…Peter, t-that’s really nice of you to ask. But I just…can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” it was laced with disappointment and you could see his face falling. You were pretty sure you’d just made things so much worse than if you’d just agreed on going, “no worries! I just thought I’d ask, it’s no big deal - maybe next time…well, enjoy your weekend.”

“You too, Peter,” you watched as he grabbed his bag and left, pausing at the door to turn around and give you a small wave. You returned and remained rooted in place, regret clouding your mind. If you hadn’t had such bad anxiety, you would have said yes. But the fear of messing everything up had been worse. You sighed at yourself, “pathetic.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There was something quite lovely about New York in the middle of the night. The city never quite deadened, but there was a lull to life that made everything feel so much calmer than normal. That, combined with the insomnia you struggled with from time to time, was enough of a reason for you to venture outside. You grabbed your camera and slowly climbed out of your window and onto the fire escape, slowly making your way the several floors up to the rooftop. When you got there, you set out a long exhale of relief as you looked around the space and found the big blanket you stashed up here for times like this. 

It was chilly out, but it was exhilarating and made you feel more alive than you had all day. You walked around the rooftop and looked out into the city, trying to find anything worthy of your attention. After scouring for a few minutes, you found a gathering on one of the nearby streets and decided to capture it. You framed the shot, but before you could even press the shutter, you heard something loud fall next to you, accompanied by a small oof. 

You dropped the camera which was luckily around a strap on your neck and turned towards the commotion. To your surprise and shock you found Spider-Man looking right back at you. You gasped, hands covered your face as you looked at the man in the blue and red spandex suit, “Spider-Man?”

“Hi,” he cheerily waved before putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to the side, “what’re you doing up here? It’s freezing - and it’s late.”

“What are you doing on my roof?” you asked with just as much surprise. You’d seen him on the news, read about him on the internet, but you’d never seen him in the flesh before, “you’re shorter than I expected.”

He playfully groaned and you were sure that he’d rolled his eyes under that mask, “first of all, I’m patrolling, and I happened to be swinging by. Secondly - I’m above average height, thank you very much!”

“Well, I don’t know, I expected you to be like…6’5 or something,” you shrugged, stifling a laugh at his distress, “aren’t you a superhero and all?”

“I am still a person-”

“With spider-like abilities,” you found yourself grinning in spite of the initial nerves, “so I dunno, I figured you might be tall. The news does you justice I guess.”

“Yeah well…fine,” he huffed lightly as you laughed at him. You could have sworn that he sounded so familiar and you couldn’t quite place it. Part of you was sure that he sounded like Peter, but there was no way that your crush of eight plus years and lab partner was Spider-Man, “but seriously, what are you doing up here?”

“I…I couldn’t sleep,” you found it incredibly easy to talk to him, nerves and anxiety the last thing on your mind. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face, or the fact that you had no clue who he was, “I go outside when I can’t sleep…it helps sometimes.”

“It’s dangerous,” he reminded you and you shrugged lightly, “you shouldn’t be out alone at night in this city.”

“Well I don’t exactly have someone that’s just available to come out with me at three in morning when I’m dealing with insomnia,” if you didn’t know any better you were sure that he sounded concerned, “it’s not the first time I’ve done this. I’ll be okay.”

“You have someone now,” he insisted and your mouth opened in surprise. When he saw the visible confusion on your face he pointed at himself, “that way I know you’ll be safe.”

“There’s only one problem with that.”

“Which is…?”

“How am I supposed to just call you if I need you?” you asked softly and he chuckled warmly as if there was some sort of inside joke between the two of you, “I don’t think there’s some sort of Spidey Signal or something.”

“I’ll be here,” he promised, “I’ll know.”

“Sure,” you liked the sound of it but you highly doubted he would just show up when you needed him. He had a whole city that he kept safe, and you were just one unimportant, small person among millions, “thanks for the concern.”

“I care about you, you know,” he said it like it was something of some personal thing to him. He must have caught his mistake because he quickly cleared his throat and added, “I care about everyone in New York.”

“Of course you do, you’re Spider-Man,” you gave him a small smile and decided that perhaps it was time for you to go. You were about to turn around and head for the fire escape when he stopped you.

“You have a camera,” you looked down before looking back at him and nodding softly, “you’re a photographer?”

“Amateur,” you confessed with a shy smile, “scientist by day, amateur photographer by night. It’s just a hobby, but it’s stuck with me through the years.”

“Wow,” you could tell that he sounded genuinely impressed. Peter, of course, knew you were a scientist, but he had no idea that you’d shared the same hobby too. It made his heart melt a little more, “that’s really cool.”

“Not as cool as being Spider-Man,” you insisted softly as he made a small sound, “I guess I better get going. And let you get back to work…or whatever you call it.”

“I’d love to see some of your work sometime,” the small that worked its way onto your face was breathtaking and made his knees weak, “if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” you nodded with your face warm despite the chill of the late fall air, “definitely. Well…I guess I’ll see you around Spidey.”

“See you around, smart girl,” if he’d had the mask off, you’d have seen the giant, dopey grin on Peter’s face. But he was gone, swinging back into the evening as you stood there and stared after him.

You were pretty sure you had just  befriended Spider-Man. Holy fuck.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You really hadn’t expected to see him ever again. But on your next little, a late night walk through the streets of Queens, he made another appearance. He swung over and gracefully landed next to you, easily catching up to your stride. You couldn’t deny that you were elated to have him there. There was something easy about talking to him, about giving bits and pieces of yourself to him, and taking what he gave back. He was always careful not to give too much away, not to reveal too much of his real identity, but you felt like you were getting to know him. And you really liked him. You spend weeks upon weeks of your evenings with Spider-Man, growing closer than you’d have thought possible to the masked man.

On the other hand, it felt like your relationship with Peter was slowly slipping away. After that first night when you’d turned him down, you created a bit of a divide between the two of you. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to be his friend or even more, it was just that you didn’t trust yourself around him. He made was Peter fucking Parker and you were just…nobody. He never made you feel that way, but that’s just what you had ingrained in your mind. And, to your dismay, Peter slowly pulled back as well, which you took as rejection, when in reality it was him not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Either way, you wished you could go back in time and just say yes to him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Spider-Man seemed to notice your glum mood the next time he saw you. You hadn’t even gone out to the roof or for a walk, but he’d made an appearance at your bedroom window, gently tapping on the glass once he’d spied you sitting at your desk, typing away. When you heard the noise, you turned around and your face morphed into a look of surprise and then happiness. You rushed over to open the window and let him.

“How did you know which window was mine?” you asked softly as he took your outstretched hand and stepped into the room. He set his hands on his hips and looked around your room, taking it all in; your face flushed with warmth as he realized he was getting a glimpse into your most intimate space. 

“I’m Spider-Man,” he said as though that explained everything, “I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?” your face softened and he nodded. 

“Can I sit?” he pointed at your bed and you nodded eagerly before plopping back down into your cushy desk chair, “I like your room. ‘s cute.”

“I…I never thought Spider-Man would be in my bedroom, I might have decorated a little more,” you joked and he laughed lightly, but he could see that your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. He paused for a moment and you could feel that he was studying you, trying to pull you apart, “what?”

“You seem upset,” he whispered, leaning towards and holding out his hand. He hesitated for a moment, trying to make sure that he didn’t cross any of your boundaries, but when he noticed that you almost leaned, put his hand on the side of your face and gently stroked your cheek, “what’s wrong, my smart girl?”

My smart girl. He had a tendency to call you; you secretly loved it more than you cared to admit. 

“It’s nothing.” you insisted, biting the inside of your cheek in order to keep the tears from welling up. You put your hand on his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. When he made a small sound of concern in his throat, you couldn’t back the tears. A few pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, “it’s my own fault, it’s so stupid. Really, i-it’s fine.”

“It’s making you upset,” you could practically hear the frown in his voice as he used his thumb to wipe away your tears, “it’s not stupid if it’s making you upset. You don’t have to tell me…but I am here for you if you want to tell me. You can tell me anything.”

“It’s just…my friend,” you sighed lightly and pulled back, curling into yourself, “I think he’s my friend, anyway. I feel like I kept pushing him away and now I don’t think he wants to be my friend anymore. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me. We work together, and he almost never talks to me anymore unless it is about work.”

Peter’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized you were talking about him. He felt himself getting choked up as well, “what makes you think that?”

“I feel so dumb,” you shook your head, “it’s just that…I think I like him. I mean I do like him, a-as more than a friend. I’ve had a crush on Peter for a long time. Like eight years, but I’ve always thought I was invisible to him. But he just…he knows all these things about me, and it’s like…it feels like he’s always seen me, you know?”

“Why did you push him away?” Peter’s heart was beating so fast and hard he was surprised you couldn’t hear it, and even more surprised it didn’t just burst through his chest, “what happened?”

“He asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him,” you confessed as if he didn’t know all of this, “and I thought it was just as friends at first but I think he might have meant more…he seemed so upset when I said no. It made me sad to see him like that. I didn’t mean to hurt him or upset him, I just…I got so in my head and let my anxiety get the best of me. So I just said no.” 

“Did you want to say no?” he asked softly as you looked up and met his gaze through the white eyes of the mask. It just felt like he knew you, and that you knew him. There had always been that very familiar air about him, but you’d never been able to quite place why.

“No,” you admitted with a small, bitter little laugh, “I wanted to say yes. I want to spend more time with him and…I really do like him. But I’m afraid he’s going to get to know me more and think I’m boring or lame, or he just won’t like me. I have really bad anxiety and it really gets to me.”

“I’d never be able to guess,” he confessed and you gave him a small smile.

“It’s different with you,” you admitted shyly, “I feel comfortable around you, andI always have. I don't know why, but it’s true. That’s how I feel with Peter too, except that one time I clammed up so much and ruined everything.”

“I’m sure you didn’t ruin anything,” he insisted softly, and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, “what’s so funny?”

“I don’t have as much confidence,” you shrugged, “how are you so sure? You don’t know Peter, you didn’t see the look on face when I said no. I…I never want to see that look on his face again. It made me so sad.”

Peter was internally debating on what to do. He could either tell you that it was him and risk the chance that you’d hate him forever for not telling you for so long and getting all of this out of you. Or he could continue on as Spider-Man and never tell you that it was. Or he could tell you tomorrow at work…as Peter. There were risks and benefits from each scenario. All he knew was that he couldn’t lose you; that would be too much.

“You know, Spidey, you remind me of Peter in some ways,” you whispered shyly and his heart plummeted into his stomach, “you sound like him. And you like a lot of the same things and I dunno…I feel the same way around you as I do around him. That’s never really happened with anyone before.”

“Listen-”

“It’s almost like….” you stopped yourself, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you shook your head, “it’s silly. So stupid, really.”

“Tell me,” he asked softly, “please.”

You inhaled softly, your heart pitter-pattering wildly in your chest. It was your turn to hold up your hand and reach over, ghosting your fingertips along his jaw. He leaned into your touch ever so slightly and you could feel the warmth of his skin even under the mask. You closed your eyes for a moment before exhaling shakily, “Peter?”

He paused for a moment before taking your hand and guiding it to the back of your neck where you felt the zip of the mask. You undid it softly, slowly, and when he sensed your hesitation, he helped you and slowly pulled off the mask, revealing himself to you. 

You gasped lightly when you found Peter Parker’s glittering honeyed eyes looking back at you nervously. You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up, and he visibly relaxed when you didn’t get angry. He held up his hand nervously, “hi.”

“This whole time,” you felt your face warm up when you realized that you had basically confessed your feelings to him, “I knew you seemed familiar, Spidey. I should've known that it was you. I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. When it happened with Spider-Man, I didn’t think anything of it. But it was you this whole time.”

“I didn’t know if I should tell you,” he whispered, “but I wanted you to know. And I never meant to make you feel like I was pushing you away. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable….when I had asked you out and you said no, I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way, so I thought it’d be best to back off.”

“It wasn’t you,” you promised, “it never was. It was me. Peter, I meant what I said, I’ve had a crush on you since that first day in biochem. I wanted to be your friend for so long, but just could never bring myself to say anything. I thought maybe I could use the photography thing since that’s something we both like but it just never seemed like a good time. And when we started working together…it was nerve-wracking and wonderful. And when you asked me for dinner, I panicked and thought I would surely ruin everything, so I took the possibility of failure away by saying no and making it impossible.”

“Ever the logical scientist,” he smiled softly, “my smart girl. But so you know, you could never have ruined anything. Do you want to know a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve liked you too,” he admitted and your heart felt like it was going to burst, “since that first day in biochem. But you’ve always been way out of my league, so I never said anything.”

“No way!”

“Way,” the look on your face was both pretty and priceless and he was dying to finally kiss you, “now you know all my secrets.”

“Do you want to know one of mine, Peter Parker?”

“Yes.”

“I thought about what it would be like to kiss you so many times,” you whispered so softly that he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to hear you without his heightened senses, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Peter’s eyes lit up and you both leaned in, his lips inches away from yours. After a moment of hesitation, he finally kissed you, soft and sweet. He pulled back much sooner than you would have wished, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure it was alright. Your beaming face told him it was more than alright. 

“Was that okay?” he sounded so nervous it was almost too precious.

“I think so,” you teased lightly, “but I am a scientist and need more data to form a proper conclusion.”

“As a fellow scientist, I’m more than happy to provide all the data you could need,” he was grinning from ear to ear, “if you want that is…”

“Yes, Peter Parker,” you kissed him softly, “I would love that.”

[citrus-moonlight]

Woven

- a Bringin' Home the Rain Interlude -

"Bringin' Home the Rain" Master List: [ Part One: Bringin' Home the Rain ] 🌹 [ Part Two: "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" ] Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F Reader Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 3.9k Rating: Explicit

Summary: As winter begins to settle in, the darkening days are unexpectedly brightened when you end up with the chance to spend a little more time with Ulysses Klaue.

Summary: Explicit! Rating, Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Smut, Public Teasing, Semi-Public Touching, Yes There's a Bed and Breakfast, Hotel Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, You Have to Be Quiet, Klaue is Still a Menace But He's a Soft Menace, Fingering, Being Held Down, Reference to Edging, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation

A/N: So I seem to have written some fluff, and holiday fluff, no less. I mean, it's still smutty fluff, and while I did go back and forth a bit with this, I really just wanted soft!Klaue, and finally reminded myself it's my story and I can write what I want (and apparently in whatever order I want 😂).

Also, yes, this this falls between the next two chapters of "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" that as of this telling haven't been written yet. However it doesn't affect the rest of the story, it's more of a very self-indulgent interlude, and while I may come back to edit in a few details once chapter two is published, it doesn't change the narrative.

As always thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this slightly late holiday fluff. ❤️

Header by me, banners/dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics. ❤️

[ A03 Link ]

Shades of early December silver and grey are rapidly setting over the landscape, the dark even faster.

Although the sun doesn’t set much earlier than it would if you were in New York City (ten minutes to be exact), being in the mountains makes it seem as though it does, and as the days tick by you find yourself craving a bit of light.

The holidays are coming, so you take the excuse to drape a strand of lights over your dresser, the soft glow helping to warm the nights a little. 

Still, you’re quickly becoming bored of winter, and it's only exacerbated by the new loneliness that works its way between your ribs when Klaue is gone - which is, of course, most of the time. You can only fill your days with so much work, and now that snow is settling into the mountains your options for distraction are growing limited.

Among your searches for things to occupy you, holiday festivals come up, and after a little more investigation you discover that Bucharest has a Christmas market that happens to be the largest winter festival in Romania, with the opening night and tree lighting ceremony this coming weekend.

Klaue wasn’t supposed to be getting back for a couple more days and while you’d mentioned your plans to him, when you step onto the train platform you nearly trip over your boots when you recognize a familiar form. 

Your stomach flips and something else swirls lower when you see him standing among the other passengers, hands in the pockets of a heavy black wool coat.

He hasn’t seen you yet so you make your way over to him, staying just behind his shoulder.

“Come here often?” 

Klaue turns with a start, appearing as though he’s about to say something but his words falter when his eyes catch on your bundled form.

A coy grin slowly curves your lips at catching him off guard.

“Got in a little early, came here straight from the airport to see if I could catch you.” he finally explains “I’ll still need to make some phone calls, but I’ve freed up the rest of my day. If you’d like some company. But if you- ”

“Of course, yes!” You assure him, a newly familiar warmth in your chest that he met you here, that he’s offering. “How could I not take advantage of you being back early.”

As eager as you are, there’s still a layer of uncertainty. 

It’s the first time you’ve spent any time with Klaue outside of the compound. Not to mention that very little of the time you have spent together has passed while you weren’t desperately wrapped in one another - certainly not a full day.

Though maybe it’s better this way; less time to overthink, less time to anticipate, simply having to adapt to a new situation. You’re good at that, you remind yourself. 

It doesn’t mean that your thoughts aren’t tinged with frustration, because even though he’d only been gone a few days this time your body is already humming with desire as you board the busy train and settle into your seats against the window. 

You manage to watch the scenery for a while, focusing on the mountains and the forests interspersed with other, smaller cities as you approach the capital, but your gaze is steadily drawn back to Klaue while he works across from you. 

Your eyes drift to his mouth, the memory of his growl when you nip and tug at the pouting curve of his lower lip leaving you shifting in your seat.

The motion draws his eyes to your hips before sliding up your body with a knowing look.

The full train douses any chance of much more than heated glances, but as you look around you, you note that the passengers across the aisle seem to be thoroughly engrossed in their own conversations and devices.

And you get an idea.

Appearing to casually adjust your things, you move your coat to your side facing the aisle, bunching it so that it blocks your legs from the view of anyone not standing over you. 

Or sitting across from you.

Klaue’s posture stiffens when he catches the movement of your hand along the seam where your crossed legs meet. 

You keep your arm still so that just your wrist slowly flexes, shivering as your fingers sweep up and over the place between your thighs that’s already warm with arousal, before retracing the path back down again. 

He's utterly still except for the muscles tensing in his jaw, eyes intent on the slow drag of your fingers. 

When he licks his lips your breathing becomes shallower. The gentle tingling in your nerves spreads through your thighs to swirl deep in your core, and you realize you’re rapidly becoming more aroused than you anticipated, and as much as you had thrilled at a chance to tease him you’re going to need to stop.

You hand stills and you take a slow breath to collect yourself, reaching into your bag for your phone hoping to distract yourself for the rest of the ride. But even before you can unlock it a message notification pops up on your screen.

>Who said you could stop?

Your eyes widen, finding Klaue’s gaze sparking blue and expectant when you look up at him. 

Patiently waiting for your phone to disappear back into your bag.

For your fingers return to their activity.

Clearly pleased that your tease has been turned on you, a smug grin on his lips when your eyelids flutter. 

The light touch isn’t enough to get you close, but it’s enough to make you ache, to leave you fighting to suppress the shivers that roll through you with the slick clench of your cunt as you watch his eyes darken.

Glancing down between where his hands rest on his broad thighs you can see the fabric beginning to strain there, the ache deepening at the thought of his stiffening cock, but you’re satisfied at least that he’s not unaffected by your state.

Wrapped up in the haze of sensation you start when the conductor’s voice comes over the speaker to announce that you’ll be coming into Bucharest in less than ten minutes.

Hitching a sigh, the world around you filters back in, and you bite your lip at the realization of what you had been doing, of how easily he once again had you giving in to him, even here.  

Eventually you take your phone back out, trying to calm yourself down before you reach your stop.

It’s late afternoon by the time the bus drops you off at the outskirts of the market grounds, only a brief glimpse of sun left as it slides between the clouds and the horizon, but you still have plenty of time to explore before the tree lighting.

Making your way through the busy streets you take in the festive decorations, a popular restaurant absolutely dripping with evergreen boughs and giant candy canes, innumerable strings of lights already illuminating the streets as dusk settles over the city

As you make your way through the streets, you begin to think that it might have been a better idea to book a hotel room rather than taking the late train back tonight, but it’s too late now, everything is likely booked solid in the area.

If it had just been you then you would have figured something out, found a cheap place on the outskirts of the city, but since Klaue is with you you’re hesitant to ask. On top of not wanting to be presumptuous of his time, while you’ve spent as much time together as you could since that first night, you haven’t woken up next to him before.

You don’t dwell in your conflicted thoughts for long, though, because you nearly get taken out by a group of Hora dancers as you round the corner of a cobblestone street. 

Klaue quickly maneuvers you out of the way of the oblivious dancers lost in their steps, your arms instinctively reaching to tighten around his waist as you laugh at your lack of awareness.

“I've got you,” he chuckles, not letting you go. “Are you alright, darling?”

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” You assure him. “Apparently I need to pay a bit more attention around here. ” 

Being pressed against his body warms you and your eyes can’t help but flick to his mouth again, startled by how badly you want to kiss him right now. 

But you’ve never kissed him when you weren’t, well, naked - or about to be. A heated press of lips when you have to say goodbye, sure, but although you’ve both opened up a bit you’re aware this isn’t exactly the kind of relationship (not that you’re sure you could call it that, exactly) that allows for moments of casual affection.

So instead you smile and tip your chin down, and both of you take a wide berth around the circling dancers. 

But your heart still races when he doesn’t let you go, keeping you tucked against his side as you approach the bustling Square.

The delicious smells of festival food wafting over you are a quick reminder that you haven’t eaten since breakfast, too distracted on the train to think much about it, so as soon as you arrive you make your way to food cottages. 

Spiced kebabs for him and a steaming vegetable stew for you, followed by plum dumplings and papanasi, a kind of cheese donut that has no right to be as good as it is, and the time you’re standing in the square awaiting the lighting of the tree, you’re warm and satisfied. 

A light dusting of snowflakes begins to swirl as the crowd counts down, one section briefly faltering until with a rousing cheer they all light up with the rest, glittering bright. 

It’s bright and beautiful and exactly what you needed, but when you glance up to see Klaue’s reaction you find yourself wishing for a little less light, your cheeks growing hot against the night air when you see that he’s looking at you instead, the glint in his eyes perhaps not entirely a reflection of the lights that surround you.

Afterwards you peruse the eclectic mix of Christmas ornaments, stoneware and other handmade items, sharing a little about your days as you wander between vendors. 

You describe a type of welding certification you’re thinking about getting, even though you’d really only need it if you were working in aerospace tech, and Klaue mentions to you that he’ll be away for an additional few days next month for a conference in Vienna. 

Disappointment jabs between your shoulder blades at the fact that he’ll be gone for longer than you already expected, but there’s a sense of relief, too, that he’s still letting you know about his plans - as much as he can, at least. 

You hadn’t really planned on making any purchases tonight, but at a cottage selling embroidery and needlecraft a crocheted patchwork blanket catches your eye, the woven pattern making you think of tea and honey, of coming in from the cold and being made warm on a dark winter day.  

After collecting your find, Klaue makes a phone call while you double back one more time to pick up some handmade cards to send to a few friends, pocketing the device as you make your way back towards him.

“Ferris wheel, then?” He asks, tilting his head towards the brightly lit ride.

“Yes! Oh, wait..” Pulling out your own phone you ucheck the time. 

“Oh,” you deflate a little. “Actually we should probably start heading to the train station, it’s getting pretty late. Can’t say I’m looking forward to how busy it’ll be.”

“Well, if you wanted to - everything near the market is full, but there’s a place on the other side of the city that has rooms available.”

You stare at Klaue for a moment. Having already dismissed the idea of staying somewhere in Bucharest tonight you’re unable to hide your surprise that he’s suggesting it. Still fighting the thought that you’d be imposing on his time, you mentally point out that he wouldn’t have bothered finding something if he didn't want to.

He raises an eyebrow.

“You really don’t want to take the train back tonight, huh?” You try to joke in an attempt to disguise your eagerness.

He steps slowly toward you, leaning in until the scruff of his beard brushes your cheek.

“I really don’t want to wait much longer to make you come, darling.” 

He must hear the hitch in your breath as you shudder at his words, pulling back to give you a knowing grin.

“Ferris wheel it is, then.”

***

The glittering view as you start to rise is stunning but neither of you manages more than a few cursory glances out the window before you’re moaning into his mouth and he’s sliding a hand between your legs. A pleased sound gritted from his throat when you rock eagerly into his touch, his lips tasting of frost and spiced wine when your tongue slips between them. 

Your own fingers tighten around the heavy fabric of his coat to steady yourself, one hand sliding above the collar to brush over the warm skin there, short shorn hair prickling beneath your fingers when they curl around the back of his neck to pull his mouth more firmly against yours.

Unfortunately it feels like no time at all before the wheel is slowing and Klaue is reluctantly removing his hand from your now aching sex, your hips bucking when he gives you one last firm caress as you come to a stop at the bottom once more.

“I’ll call us a taxi, then?” He breathes against your lips.

“God, yes.” 

A gentle but steady snow is falling by the time you arrive at the small bed and breakfast, the thickening blanket of white softening the glow of multi-coloured lights on the trees outside. 

The owners quickly realize that you have no bags with you, and they’re kind enough to offer some pajamas for you to borrow in the form of sweatpants and shirts.

Unfortunately on the ride over Klaue had received a call about something that requires his attention for a while longer, so you’re currently still clothed and sitting next to him on the bed, your new blanket draped over your legs, 

You’d picked up “Jurassic Park”, the only english book on the small shelf in the common area, and you try to read a bit while he wraps up his business, stealing the occasional glance at him while he works. 

When a hand slides over to squeeze your thigh you shift instinctively into his touch, able to feel the heat of his palm even through the woven fabric.

“Patience, my darling.” He hums, his teasing smile deepening the creases around his eyes.

“Oh, you have no idea how patient I’ve been, Ulysses,” you reply, biting your lip at the soft growl that betrays his own restlessness has you biting your lip. 

As antsy as you are, and while it’s unlikely you would have been able to name it, exactly, you also feel content. Lulled by the shape of him at your side, the sound of Romanian Christmas choir music drifting through the walls, and the electronic tapping from his phone.

Your eyes wander around the room, amused by the volume of kitschy knick knacks and holiday decorations spread across the shelves, including a candle in the form of three Victorian carolers that looks to be many faded years old, yet seemingly never burned. 

While you’re wondering whether the tiny bust paintings hanging by the door are family of the owners or just thrift store finds, Klaue shifts to face you. 

Lifting the edge of the blanket he nudges you over so that you’re both lying on your sides beneath it.

“All done?” You ask as his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, letting out a pleased sigh when you feel the already stiff ridge of his erection against the swell of your ass.

“Finally.” The word vibrates through you as a hand slides down between your legs, curling around your clothed mound.

You immediately arch into him, reveling in the twin sensations of his fingers pressing damp fabric against your cleft and the slow grind of his hips behind you.

“Even like this I can feel how warm your cunt is.” Klaue rumbles softly. “You’re wet, too, aren’t you?”

“You know I am,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice low. Aware that if you can hear music through the walls it won’t take much to be able to hear you. 

“I should take my time with you. Especially after your...bahaviour on the train.”

HIs hand finds its way under your shirt, and you note the jut of his hips against you when his palm slides over your bra to cup the soft swell of your breast, thumb and forefinger plucking at the stiffening peak of your nipple beneath the fabric.

“Should run my fingers over every inch of your body,” he rasps, an urgency filtering into his movements, into the rough, whispered rush of his words as his fingers reach back down to tug at the waist of your pants. 

Quickly you move to unbutton them, working them down along with your panties as you feel him shifting behind you, and then the hot length of his cock is sliding against your folds, slicking himself with your arousal.

“Should tease this needy little pussy until you're ready to beg.” 

Klaue bites back the last word as he presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

“But fuck, I need to feel you come.”

Normally so thorough with you before letting his control slip, Klaue’s bare need has you unraveling and your moan is deep and unexpected when he suddenly sinks into you, a response to the sweet desperation in his voice as much as from the relieving stretch of his cock.  

“I know how much you love to make pretty sounds for me,” he pants in your ear, his large hand kneading the flesh of your hip and thigh. “But you’re going to have to be quiet tonight. Can you do that for me, darling?”

Half-stretched and aching, you somehow manage to swallow your moans, taking a few deep breaths to steady your voice enough to speak.

“Yes.” You finally breathe in a low, half-whisper. ”l’ll be good.”

He nudges deeper and you bite your lip to hold back the sounds that want you to make, that he draws from you so easily now.

“Yes, you will.” Klaue hums against your neck.

The only sounds in the room now are your panted breaths intertwined with the slick sounds of his cock slowly thrusting into you, the gentle creak of the bed frame beneath your shifting bodies.

Suddenly pulling the blanket off of you he grips your ass, pressing you open so that he can see where your tight hole is stretched around him, and while he normally takes his time to relish the sight he only lasts a few more deep strokes before he’s shifting you onto your stomach, his weight and his cock pressing you down into the mattress.

With your pants still bunched around your knees Klaue impatiently nudges your legs apart as best he can before working a hand beneath the curve of your hip and you buck, a squeak slipping from your throat when his fingers find your clit.

His chest heaves against your back, the tight, circling pressure of his fingers firm and insistent as your body swiftly draws taught beneath him. 

Instinctively you try to respond, to roll your hips into his touch as you chase the rough crest of your orgasm but you’re trapped, the broad warmth of Klaue’s body holding you in place as his fingers relentlessly work your clit until your muscles begin to flutter and tighten. 

”There you go” A rough whisper clenched between his teeth. “Let me feel you. Come on, darling, squeeze my cock.”

You try to stay quiet but you can’t help the tremulous whine that escapes your throat as your climax surges through you, Klaue letting more of his weight press into you as your body spasms beneath him, every muscle trembling as you clench hard around his cock.

“Christ you feel so good. Fuck, you’re going to make me come, oh fuck- ”

The tight grip of your cunt seems to be all that he needs tonight because with a sudden hard jerk of his hips you feel the blissful throb as he comes, muffling his own moan against your shoulder as spends himself helplessly inside you.

Klaue continues to grind into you as the pulsing of his cock slows, making sure his cum stays plugged deep in your cunt exactly where he knows you want it, the stroking of his fingers not letting up even as you twitch and gasp beneath him.

“One more, Mot. Please. For me.” 

Your clit flutters at his pleading words, and barely able to hold back your cries, your hand flies up to cover your mouth as he continues to work your swollen bundle of nerves, his hand slippery with your release that leaks out around where he stays buried in you.

Aching and breathless, feeling the muscles of his forearm flexing against your hip, your body finally succumbs to the needy slide of his fingers, muffling your half-swallowed whimpers behind your hand as he expertly coaxes a second, softer orgasm from your oversensitive sex, gravelly praises whispered against your ear as you stiffen and shudder beneath him.

Klaue stays pressed against your back as you both slowly recover, the weight of him warm steady, calming the tremble in your limbs as you float down through the afterglow. 

Eventually you let your fingers fall away from your lips.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t- I tried to be quiet,” you stammer. “Wanted to be good, I- ” 

“You’re always good for me, darling.” Klaue soothes, pressing his words and lips against your neck, behind your ear. “Always.”

***

After a quick shower you both change into your makeshift pajamas, then turning off the bedside lamps you settle back under the knit blanket, the lights filtering through the curtains casting a warm glow on the walls of your room.

“Come with me.” Klaue mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You were almost asleep, and it takes a moment to realize that he’d spoken.

“Come with…where?” 

“The conference. Vienna. There’s a gala.”

“Are…are you awake?” 

“If you’re asking whether I’ll remember this in the morning, the answer is yes.” Klaue chuckles softly. “You said you’d never been. Beautiful city. Wear a beautiful dress for me.” His voice drops as he pulls you more firmly against him.

You pause, considering, unable to ignore the soft thrill in your chest that he’s willing to share this with you. 

Another thread of your life intertwining with his, invisible threads looping over one another and knotting tight, tugging together into a pattern you’re still trying to bring into focus.

“Alright.” You sense a notch of tension release from Klaue’s body when you finally give him your answer. “I’d like that.”

It’s difficult for you not to overthink, especially when thoughts of what you’re going to do when your contract ends are becoming more persistent every day.

But knowing that you’re going to have to return to reality tomorrow regardless, right now you allow yourself to relax against him. With the tops of his thighs fitting against the backs of yours, soft music floating at the edge of your consciousness and his hand resting warm against your hip, eventually you find yourself caught in a net of sleep and dreams.

A/N: I was looking a little wistfully at all the lovely holiday fics that were coming out, and thinking that I didn't really think I had anything that would really work. Then I got to playing around with a mood board and accidentally inspired myself with Christmas market thoughts, and now here we are!

Thank you for reading, and I hope you get through the remainder of the holiday season with as much light and little stress as possible. ❤️

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all you lovely people!