#GOD HELP ME WHEN THIS CARD DROPS IN EN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raewritesfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Personal Assistant [Alexander Skarsgård]

A/N: took me a while to get around to this ask but I got there eventually!

Plot: Reader is Alexander Skarsgård’s personal assistant. On a night out you let slip a comment which leads to some much wanted fun.

Pairing: Female!Reader X Alexander Skarsgård

Warnings: oral (female receiving), P in V, unprotected sex, general smut.

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @jaseminedenise @nikkitasevoli @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @differentcatcat @ravenmoore14 @heywhatssgood @purplerain85 @askarslibrary

—

The hotel bar where you were sitting, patiently waiting for your employer while he finished a phone interview, was quiet and relaxed. You were already on your third drink - all doubles - when he sauntered around the corner with his hands in his pants pockets. Alex was dressed in casual dress pants and a lightweight knitted sweater; it was effortless and yet he still looked like he could be on a catwalk in it.

“You okay?” His words break you out of thought and you realise you were staring.

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I’m good. How was the interview…?” The next hour is spent drinking and talking about work; your large diary in front of you as you go through the next few days. While Alex nursed his one drink by the time your impromptu meeting was done you had sunk another three doubles. Deep down you were trying to work yourself up to telling him your feelings but no matter how you tried, the conversation never opened up in the right direction for you to be able to drop it in. Now you were just getting drunk.

Closing up the diary and sitting back in your chair you clock Alex watching you, just watching. There was a slight smirk on his face as he finished his single drink and sat back.

“You look very good this evening… I’m liking the dress on you.” He smiles and watches your hand play with the pen sitting on your diary.

Taking a breath you nod “I taste good too. And my dress would look better on your floor.” You look up and force yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes going wide as the reality of what you had said set in “I.. . Shouldn’t have said that! Oh god. I meant to say …”

“You meant to say exactly what you said.” Alex smirks again “and I’m glad you did.” He stands and offers you his hand. “Come with me.”

You’re on autopilot as you stand and take Alex’s offered hand, picking up your small pile of folders, notebook and diary as you do so and following him to the elevator. You were in rooms on separate floors so you were a little surprised when Alex tapped his room card and pressed the button for his floor.

The elevator seems to be painfully slow but it passes horribly quick as Alex pulls you against his side and wraps his arm around your waist; his large hand splaying to encompass almost your entire ribs.

Quietly, Alex leads you to his room and offers you inside as he hangs a do not disturb sign on the outside of the door and locks it once shut. You place your small work pile on the table in the room and look around at the spacious room with a large en suite; the open door shows a shower big enough for two.

Alex steps over towards you, his hands once more in his pockets and pulling his dress pants tight across his crotch. You fail at keeping your eyes on his and lick your lips as he walks towards you. “So that dress... wanna find out if it does look better on my floor..? Or are you just gonna wonder what my dick looks like?”

You gasp and somewhat resemble a goldfish as you try to figure out what to say to his words. Instead of letting you suffer Alex leans down and kisses you, his hands moving to your hips and gripping you against him as his fingers pull up your dress to your waist. “Lift your arms…” You do as you’re told and Alex lifts off your dress before dropping it to the floor. His eyes immediately look back to you and take in your matching lace underwear and fishnet stockings with knee high socks. He’d always loved your alternative style choices and found it refreshing you didn’t like ‘professional’ styles of clothing.

Alex traces two fingers down your bra straps over small flowers with beads at their centres, following the curve of your breasts and along the wires until they meet in the middle where the clasp sits to undo the thin material. You lick your lips and watch his face, swallowing thickly when his fingers twist the clip and free you from its confines.

“So you do have piercings… when I saw you in your bikini I was trying to work it out.”

You let out a shaky chuckle and nod “they’re not my only hidden piercings.”

“Well I’ll get to see those soon enough.” He smiles and pushes the bra down your arms which you let fall to the desk behind you.

“Oh will you?” You smile and playfully bite your lip when his eyes are back on your face.

He plants his hands either side of you on the desk and runs his nose up your neck and around your jaw then back down the other side. You let out a small whimper when his lips make contact with your neck and then follow the same path as before.

Alex pulls your panties down your legs slowly and then lifts you onto the desk “lean back…” whispering quietly but firmly in your ear. You close your eyes and lean back against the wall, shivering as your hot skin is instantly cooled. Alex lowers down to his knees and finishes removing your panties, his hands spreading your legs so he could reach where he wanted.

“Very nice.. do they change how anything feels?” Alex leans in and kisses over you softly making you whimper.

“S-sometimes…” you admit and run a hand down to thread into his hair.

Humming against you Alex takes the ring in his teeth and tugs lightly to see what would happen, when he sees you break out in goosebumps he chuckles and buries his face against you; licking and sucking over every fold and making sure nothing got missed, when you were panting heavily and tugging his hair Alex pushes two fingers into you and curls them against the squishy area on your front wall making your hips jump “good girl…”

You rock your hips to his moving fingers and pant his name, one of his hands travelling up your torso to your boobs and massaging over you; drawing out your pleasure until your breathing hitches and slowly withdraws his touch from you and stands leaving you whining on the desk. “Noo… no no! That’s unfair!”

Alex smirks and strips off his knitted sweater to reveal no T-shirt underneath and watches you intently as he undoes his pants to let them fall to the floor.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the man before you and you lick your lips, watching his semi-hard cock. “You gonna come join me…?” Alex raises an eyebrow and steps towards you “or do you need carrying?” Closing the gap between you and wrapping his arms around your waist to lift you from the desk. You wrap your legs around his hips, feeling his cock against you while he carries you to the bed, his lips pressing light kisses to your skin which turn into nips and bites; his teeth grazing across you with enough force to leave marks by the time he lowers you down on the bed.

“You gonna finish what you started?” Finding confidence from the alcohol still running through your blood.

“Oh yes…” he nods and crawls up between your legs, hands gliding over your fishnets.

“Want my heels off?” You look down at your feet.

“Never..!” He leans down and bites over your ribs, soothing the marks with open kisses while his hands move to your tits; fingers playing with your nipples and the jewellery that adorned them, humming as they hardened under his touch.

You arch to his fingers and mouth “Alex…please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you all but beg him. “I really need you inside me..”

“Oh you need me? And how long have you been needing me inside you?”

“So fucking long…” you rub your face.

“Use your words and that Dutch courage to tell me baby girl. How long?”

“M-months!” You stutter and bite your lip “since we got really drunk and you fell asleep on me in nothing but a towel I knew I needed to feel you against me and in me.”

Alex grins “there’s a very good girl.” He kisses and nips his way between your tits and scrapes his teeth across your collarbone, his hand reaching down to tease your pussy with the head of his cock.

“Alex, please don’t tease me.” You thread your fingers into his hair.

He chuckles and pushes his length into you slowly, barely filling you before pulling out again with a moan “oh fuck baby…”

“Alex.. Alexander..” you tug his hair and rock your hips “please!” You resorted to begging, the feel of his cock inside you for those moments was bliss and you wanted more.

The tall Swede growls low against your neck at the sound of his full name, a guttural and animalistic noise from deep in his chest emanating against your skin. He seemingly thinks over his actions and decides on pushing into you slowly until he bottoms out with the head of his cock resting against your cervix.

You both moan aloud into the dark room and Alex shifts his arms to sit under your shoulders, holding you to him as he begins to move inside you. Alex rolls his hips and moves his legs to widen yours further, wanting to be deep on every thrust of his hips. He groans against your lips and presses light kisses to you.

“You do taste good baby… so fucking good.. your pussy takes me so well..” he pants and moves a hand to grip your thigh as he speeds up his rhythm, rocking his hips on each thrust to get every part of you.

“You’re… so big!” You drop your head back and groan louder, feeling the head of his cock hitting against your cervix in painful pleasure, the rough nest of hair which sat above catching your clit on every movement.

“You like feeling stretched out?” His body leans over yours as he moves.

“Fuck yes!” You call out and lift your hips to his movements “oh fuck I’m close!” You wrap your arms around Alex’s shoulders and kiss him passionately.

Alex groans into your mouth and grips your ass, pulling you onto his thrusts and guiding you with his faster movements “you gonna cum for me?”

You nod and hum against his lips “yes…god yes. Like that!”

He keeps the deep pace with fast rhythm, moaning roughly against you “that’s it, cum for me..” his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass while Alex pounds into you hard and fast.

You gasp and throw your head back with your eyes screwed shut tightly “ffffuck!!” Calling out loudly as you tighten around his cock. Alex grips you close to him and grinds his hips deep into you, dropping his head down to yours as he empties his seed into you with a loud groan. He stills his hips and settles inside you as you both relax and come down from your climax then rolls you both to your sides.

You lean your head against Alex’s chest and kiss over the skin you could reach from your position “holy hell…”

He smiles and holds you close, your leg over his hip “want some help removing the shoes?” Kissing your forehead.

“Yes please..” you smile a little and look up from his chest.

Alex reaches down and easily undoes your shoes and drops them to the floor, rubbing your ankles before removing your socks and stockings for further comfort. “You’re fucking amazing.” He kisses you softly and strokes your hair back. “Your makeup held up well.. I’m impressed.”

You blush and smile “the price I pay for it, it had better.. and you’re amazing too.” Stroking your hand over his upper arm “tell me this isn’t a one night thing?”

“Hell no… got lots of fun positions to try. And how much more of a personal assistant can you be?”

—fin—

#alexander skarsgard #Alexander skarsgård #reader x Alexander Skarsgard #imagine #Alexander skarsgard imagine

115 notes · View notes

fragiledewdrop · 1 year ago

Text

Hello, and sorry in advance for the long post, but this is really interesting to me :)

Based on my own experience and that of those who study English at university with me, it tends to be phrasal verbs and prepositions. By a mile. Even people who could almost pass for native speakers mess them up, and learning them is really hard because there's no rhyme or reason to them , so either you a) straight up memorize endless lists (rarely effective), or b) listen to and read so much material in English that you eventually pick most of them up by osmosis. Either way, you will still make mistakes.

English grammar is fairly easy, though, especially the verb system. I speak a Romance language. Irregular verbs in English have only three forms each, sometimes two. Irregular verbs in my language, or in Spanish, or in French? They can have six different forms just for the basic present tense. I feel your pain, OP, because I am learning French too, and I would take the whole of English morphology over the French Indicative any day with zero hesitation.

Plus, irregular verbs in English were mostly formed through vowel alternation, which was the productive morphological process before you switched to adding -ed (I think it was in Early Modern English? I have to check.) That means it's not actually random. There are patterns: swim/swam/swum, sing/sang/sung, run/ran/run; bring/brought, teach/taught, catch/caught, think/thought.

They sound very similar, even to someone who knows knows nothing about linguistics. Once you figure it out, they are not that difficult to remember. Same with adding -en to some participles. There are still a few wild cards, but it's not that overwhelming.

What is hard, on the other hand, is figuring out aspect: do you use the Simple Past or the Present Perfect? The Future Simple or the Future Continuous? I have given English lessons, and this is what they are about, mostly, especially in high school. Then again, this is a problem when learning any language that is not very closely related to your own. My brother has a Master's degree in Japanese, and he had very, very similar issues there.

One thing that often gets overlooked, but is really hard to get into your head when you are an Italian speaker, is that English is a non-pro-drop language. It means you cannot omit the subject, even if you have to use the same pronoun five times in the same sentence. That is difficult for us, because not only is that not the case at all in our language (we can form whole sentences where the subject is implied; we do it all the time) but we absolutely abhore repetition. It feels extremely weird at the beginning. As I have been told, repeatedly, "it sounds wrong".

Also, in English you never put the verb before the subject. The order is strictly Subject Verb Object, except for questions, where Verb and Subject are switched. Our language is way more flexible about that (it still has nothing on fusional languages that use cases, which know no fear of man nor god when it comes to word order. Think German, Latin, or-lord help us- Ancient Greek.) In Italian we might say "è finita la partita", but in English you can't say "is over the football match". You have to switch the order of the components to put the subject first: "the football match is over". This becomes a recurring, pesky issue with longer sentences, especially when writing long texts.

Lastly, well, spelling and pronunciation, obvioulsy. I think a lot of native speakers are in a bit of a pickle there too. It's just the way the etymological cookie crumbled. At least you don’t have random accents on your vowels xD

That's it, mostly. There are a million different things to say about this, but I really need to go to bed. I hope it was interesting, and not extremely boring🌸

Native English speaker here who thinks learning French is hard so I was curious

Bonus points for tagging your native language

#languages #english #italian things #linguistics

323 notes · View notes

florencemachina-fics · 2 years ago

Text

(A/N: This took me a few days, many hours, and a lot of work and it's literally for one person. Please enjoy this garbage pile, I love you. Reader is gender neutral, referred to as y/n)

Content warning: G/N reader, noncon, rape, kidnapping, parties?, masks, cunnilingus, fellatio, threesome, bleeding but only a little bit, uhhhh tag me if I need more CWs

Summary: You owe someone a LOT of money. That someone is En. When En needs things cleaned up, he sends his cleaning crew. You get the picture. 4,566 word count

It's almost too bright in this shady nightclub. Well, shady only in the business it deals with. The whole place is lit up brighter than a fucking Christmas tree, and louder than god himself shouting at the earth. Actually, if god existed, you probably couldn't hear him over this music. Luckily though, you found yourself a private corner to light up a cigarette and take a moment. Looking back, perhaps this was a terrible mistake after all. You had left your shithole "Hotel" tent this morning actually hopeful you could find the sorcerer that could change your face so maybe, just maybe you could return home to the world of sorcerers. Being on the run doesn't really work well if everyone knows your face. So cue a big chase to the Hole, and here you find yourself- barely nickels to your name and about to literally change your face to get out of legal trouble with En.

Ah, yes. It's not easy to forget that you pissed off easily the most influential sorcerer there is. So what if you borrowed a little money? If you were rich enough to pay him back, you wouldn't have had to borrow in the first place! Stupid En... Anyway, it doesn't matter now. You're about to change your life for the better and put the past behind-!

[[MORE]]

"Oof- hey! Watch it, asshole!" You sneer as a tall man dressed in a tight sweat suit bumps backwards into you. You dropped your cigarette in surprise.

"Woah! Sorry, I didn't see you there!" The man (His voice is so high?) bends down a bit a sheepishly rubs his neck. "I'm actually looking for someone! A guy with a heart mask, have you seen him?"

The teeth in his mask is a bit unsettling, so you weigh being polite as the safer option, "No, sorry. I'm actually looking for an acupuncture guy, personally. Have you heard of him?"

"No," He looks around, "but he's bound to be here somewhere. God, this place is so big, and WAY too loud! Heeeeey! Shiiiiiiiiin!" He cries out into the crowd uselessly. Obviously, no one answers.

"Hey, let's go sit down." You tug the guy over to the bar, order a couple drinks to go, and pull him off to a side room. The music still reverberates the walls, but at least the two shoddy chairs, the rusty old card table, and stained matress on the floor hold up against the attacks of light and sound. You close the door behind the two of you and settle, tired in one chair; he takes the other. With a sigh, you take a sip of your drink. "So, what's your name?"

"Oh! I'm Noi, who are you?" Noi pulls up the mask enough to sip his drink. You notice his lips are pretty, pink, and soft-looking for a guy's. He's really well shaven, too. This tips you off a bit. He might be a sorcerer.

He also seems really stupid, or just doesn't care, but you care a LOT. So, naturally, you lie. "I'm Ginko. Did your friend leave you alone here, Noi? What's his name...Shin?"

"Yeah, but it's fine. We're actually looking for someone. I mean, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I'm sure it's okay. Maybe you can help! Have you heard of (y/n)?

Oh. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuuuuuuuuu-

"No, I'm sorry. Do you know what they look like?" You put on your most polite, sweet smile.

"Sorta. Our boss just told us they have really nice hips and a great ass, so I don't think he really knows either. Man...this is such a pain." He looks dejected and peels off his mask. "Anyways-"

HOOOOOOOOLY SHIT she's the most BEAUTIFUL woman you've EVER seen?! Her long hair cascades in perfectly unkempt waves of moonlight, framing a full round face. Two shining ruby colored eyes set the face of an angel in front you, leaving you speechless. Fuck she's SO pretty...

"-ich is why I have to find them before my cousin gets more angry, you know?" She sips her drink.

You wish you were that glass.

Wait, you're in danger.

You nod, smiling tightly and laugh. "Right! Well that sounds great but I want you go- have you to- want to kiss- you are- go. I. Need. To. Leave. Soon." You finally force your stupid tongue to speak real human words.

Even when she's whining she's pretty, "Aw, man! But I really like you! Can't we talk a little longer?"

She likes you- "I really wish I could, but," you open the door, "-!"

"There you are."

A man wearing a heart mask steps past you in the doorway, blocking your exit. "Noi, you were here the whole time?"

"Shin! I made a friend! This is Ginko. Ginko? Shin!" She gestures happily between you two. Shin doesn't look too pleased by the introduction. He eyes you like you're a nasty bug he spotted in the corner.

"H-hey," you try your luck to escape, hopefully unscathed. "Nice to uh...to meet you. I actually have to meet someone, so....okay I'll be going."

He holds a hammer up under your chin. "...Noi, this is them." Of course, Noi isn't paying attention, which you have a front row seat in seeing how this annoys him. She's busy eating a granola bar she pulled out of thin air, or maybe found somewhere which is infinitely grosser. "(Y/n)." His voice commands your attention back to him. "Sit." Your betraying body follows his orders, knowing full well you could die if not. Hell, you might still.

Noi perks up when she sees you rejoin her at the table. "Oh! I thought you were leaving?" Her full mouth makes it a bit hard to understand her. She swallows her mouthful and discards the wrapper somewhere behind her.

"They were trying."

"Huh?"

"This," he waves the hammer at you, "is (y/n)."

"How do you know?"

"The boss told us what they look like. Were you not paying attention?" He glares, and you can see past the darkness of the eye holes in his mask that he has striking teal eyes.

"Huh?! Of course I was!" She pouts, which you find cute despite the sinking feeling you get as you realize these are your executioners. Your hot, cute, tall, buff executioners with really tight asses. The stray thought crosses your mind that Noi might be the type of girl to insist on matching gym shorts for working out. You giggle at the thought - a bad idea since it drags the focus back to you.

"What are you laughing at?" Shin's got the hammer poised under your chin again, a domineering and cold stare to match the chilling metal. "Listen up. You pissed off the boss. All of this could've been avoided if you had made your payments on time. Now, I'm gonna give you about three seconds to cough something up, or I'm gonna bring your head back with me."

"W-wait! I don't have the money, but...b-but maybe I can give you something instead? Just to not kill me? I just need more time, that's all!" You beg. You're not above begging.

He opens his mouth to reply, but Noi pops up beside him excitedly, stopping him. "Actually, Shin, I think they're onto something! I mean, it's not an ideal place, but why don't we have some fun while we're here? It is a party after all!" She's beaming. Oh, even her teeth are perfect. How? How is she this pretty? "What do you think?"

"Well, we haven't had a vacation in a while...and I need to relax." He starts loosening his tie and sits in the other chair once occupied by Noi.

"So you're thinking what I'm thinking? Good! I was worried for a second there that what I said got lost in translation-"

"Noi."

"Right, well anyway," she smiles so sweetly for you. "So your name is actually (y/n)? It's a cute name. I'm gonna enjoy saying it." Her hands are roaming your body to undress you, easily lifting it from the chair when needed so they can pass across your plush rear. "They really do have a nice ass."

"Is that all you remember?" Shin finally undoes his tie and leaves it on the table, then works on his suit jacket next.

"Wait your boss actually said that about me?"

"He said it's your best quality." He removes the jacket and starts undoing a couple buttons of his shirt.

"Ouch. Harsh. I'm at least a good sorcerer."

"Not since you got caught by us." Noi chuckles and continues her work. When you're finally stripped completely bare, you're unceremoniously tossed to the floor. The strong woman takes her place where you just were and starts removing her track suit, revealing a large set of breasts, barely kept in by a black tube top.

"(Y/n), come." He taps the floor with his shoe (how are his shoes still clean?) Naturally, you obey. The other option is not really an option - make a run for it. You get the feeling you wouldn't make it to the doorknob. Plus, you might lose the chance to live. So, instead, you crawl on the floor to him and sit pretty on your knees. He reaches forward and plays with your hair. "Ew. Greasy." You don't even get the chance to retort as he grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you forward. Your face is now buried in his crotch, and if that large, stiff object isn't a knife, then you're definitely terrified for what wreckage your body is about to go through. He moans through gritted teeth and grinds your face against what you're certain is his erection.

"What are you waiting for? Unzip me." He commands.

"They can't unzip you if you're holding them down, silly." Noi laughs, like he's just a silly little guy and you're all not engaged in an act of sexual coercion. He loosens his hold enough for you to lift your head and slip your hands beneath your chin to his zipper. He's wearing a belt, but even that doesn't take much to undo. Finally, you push his button through the hole and pull down the hem, revealing a set of solid blue boxers. So he's a Hanes man, huh?

"My patience is wearing thin." He warns. You know he won't warn again. Your trembling hands manage to pull the hem down enough for his cock to spring forth and holy shit how are you going to-

You don't get the chance to consider. He's already forcing your jaw open with his free hand while using the one in your hair to push your head where and how he wants it. It's not easy, either. He goes for all of it with the first thrust. The head hilts to back of your throat, and you come up coughing and gagging. He doesn't let you catch your breath, but forces his free thumb between your teeth to keep your mouth wide open for him as he mercilessly fucks your throat. You barely catch puffs of air as he takes long deep strokes, though air is short lived for you because soon enough your throat relaxes, allowing him to slip all the way to the base.

"There~ now, was that so hard?" Yeah, you want to say, it's rock hard and deep in my throat. I can't breath and I'm horny as shit now, and you feel so good in my throat but I feel like I'm gonna pass out! But you don't say that, and instead you moan. It's choked, but he hears it, and so does Noi.

"Oooohhhh~ I think pet wants some attention down here too." Her tone has changed, god did she always sound like that? Your senses are dulling as you lose oxygen, but you definitely feel the cold, dirty toe of her boot shove up between your legs. "Hey, spread wide for me. I wanna see what you're packing."

She hums in appreciation when she spots your folds dripping wet and ready to be entered. More importantly, she sees your enlarged clit hanging heavy like an ornament between your labia. "You look even better like this." Her boot roughly presses into your core, and as ashamed as you are of the situation, you love the way it catches your clit over and over when she moves her foot back and forth. You think she might be trying to be gentle, but it is anything but.

Shin finally pulls you off as the black almost takes over your vision completely. Your tongue lolls out, obediently waiting to lick and suck his cock again at his whim. He studies your mussy face all covered in slobber while you're sucking in much needed air. You let out a lewd moan, a mostly breathless moan since you're...well, breathless. He seems pleased, or at least you think so. You can't tell past the mask. But his eyes tell you a lot, and his heaving chest makes it seem like he was the one choking a moment ago instead of you.

"Okay, my turn." Noi leans forward to swat Shin's hand away from your hair. He's reluctant to let go, but once he does you almost miss his touch. You aren't left wanting for long. Noi pulls your hair much more gently than her partner did. She pulls you up to straddle her thigh. Her big, juicy, strong thigh. Her hands grasp firmly to your thighs and painfully push you down against the bare flesh of- when did she take off her pants? How? Wasn't she stroking your clit? When did she have the time-

Your intrusive thoughts are interrupted once more when her fingers bare a death grip on your hips and push your clit almost too hard into her thigh. It rips an orgasm from you. Had you been that close? You're worked through your rough first orgasm right into overstimulation. It's too much all at once-

"Hey, I wasn't done with them."

"You'll get your turn again, soon. Be patient." Noi's voice is gentle, but her touch is not. Her fingers are making bruises in your thighs, and your head is swimming.

"P-please....too much...." You barely get the words out between breathless moans. Noi is ruthless, sure, but is kind enough to let up when you beg.

"Sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to hurt you!" She finally stops forcing you to grind against her. Instead, she starts trailing her soft lips from your earlobe down your neck leaving kisses and sucking hickies as she pleases. Past her soft breathing you can hear Shin behind you fisting his cock slowly, enjoying the show being put on for him.

"Now can I have a turn?" He asks impatiently. Noi sighs and lets you down from her lap. You try and fail to stand on shaky legs. Thankfully, Noi catches you and rearranges you instead to lay back on the shaky card table. It creaks under your weight, years of rust complaining at the misuse. Shin doesn't care about the age of the table, as you can see from the way he leans over you and aligns himself with your slit.

"Shin, you're sweating. Just take off your mask or you're gonna have a heart attack." Noi teases him. "It's just us here, you know?"

He doesn't say anything, but does as she says which saves you from immediately having to take the massive girth threatening to split you in two. You watch as the discarded cowl reveals a handsome face. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a strong jaw...this is literally the man of your dreams. It's really a shame you met like this, you probably would have asked him out on a date if only-

"Ungh- fuck! They're tight!" He groans and braces himself on the table. You're gonna fucking fall apart if this man has his way with you! But you can't force yourself to even speak let alone beg him to be merciful. His shaft hits all the way to the back of your deep pussy, and he's not even fully sheathed yet. Key word: yet. He's certainly trying, pushing deeper and deeper. It hurts - oh god does it fucking hurt - but he's taking it slow. You can't tell if it's for you or for him, but you're thankful nonetheless. That is, until he's satisfied with how wet you are (embarrassingly wet, why are you enjoying this?) He slams into you faster and harder with every stroke, and you would hear the table steadily breaking if you had enough thoughts in your already fucked out brain to comprehend it.

The two of you moan and clasp onto each other like a lifeline. His steady strokes push against your gummy walls in ways you didn't think were even possible, hitting places you didn't know existed. For sure you're no virgin, but by far he is the best lay you've ever had. He's not loud either, just quietly grunting and breathing, reveling in your flesh as he pleases. His left hand is braced against the table, effectively caging you and supporting him simultaneously. His other is gripping your hip right where Noi's hand had bruised you minutes before. And he is. Not. Stopping. His thrusts are rough and steady, until they're not.

The table busts and the two of you unceremoniously crash to the floor. Noi bursts into laughter immediately. "That's what you get for going all out right away!" You can't laugh with her. You're still filled up with a giant dick, and Shin is heavy as FUCK. You can't breathe- you can't-

The weight is lifted. Noi has pulled Shin up off of you, and his dick slides out with a wet squelch. "Goddammit, Noi...I was close."

"No you weren't. We've gone hours without stopping before." She points out as she's positioning herself between your legs. "Tsk....they're bleeding a little. You could have been nicer-"

"They're our target!"

"Still...." Noi pulls you up to straddle her hips and hold her neck while she carries you over to the forgotten mattress. You realize faintly that she's naked. She plops you down then hooks her hands under your knees so she can inspect you. "Wow....you're really pretty, y'know?"

You can't stop yourself, "Back at you, gorgeous." Your wavering voice actually sounds kind of confident with your little quip. She blushes and gives you a big, beaming smile.

"Thank you!" Her mouth comes down to start placing wet, sloppy kisses along your thighs. The strength she's got allows her to lift you higher as she works her way toward your core. By the time she reaches your firm clit, she's got you balanced on your shoulders relying on her to hold you up. Her lips wrap around the nub and she sucks and you moan so loud you're sure the party could hear you. Her tongue and lips are sooo soft and yet so firm and she's AMAZING at this! You're shaking with every pass of her tongue over you, in you, up, down, left, right-

Your bliss is interrupted by Shin when he straddles your head. Oh, great, he's naked too. "Mind if I join?" He asks Noi.

"You just had a turn." She's stops slurping your juices to answer him, pulling a needy whine from you.

"I can share. Can you?" He tilts your head up slightly and teases his cockhead against your lips.

She hums against your pussy - it feels so good - and licks a heavy stripe up your lips before she answers, "Okay, but only if I cum first this time."

"Yes ma'am." Shin agrees, and for some reason you open your mouth obediently for him. His dick slides all the way back down your throat, giving you a strangely erotic sensation. A shot of lust shoots through you when he moans your name. He brings his hand to your throat to feel himself as he starts up a steady rhythm fucking your mouth.

Noi is busy working you up to your second orgasm of the night. You feel it coming on stronger and stronger as you experience this intense fellatio. Your clit is throbbing, you can feel it pulsing in Noi's warm mouth. Almost- almost- so close- until the dam bursts and you're squirting all over Noi's mouth. She squeaks in surprise, but doesn't stop licking and sucking until you stop squeezing.

"C-close... uhn.....Noi~...." Shin moans and thrusts faster inside your throat.

"Don't you dare! You made a deal." Noi drops you so she can grab Shin by the shoulders. He stops, surprised at the sudden change.

"Oh...fuck, sorry Noi." He slides out of your throat. "Damn, they look cute all covered in spit." He notes with a smirk.

"Don't forget about me." Noi complains, and crawls around you so she can straddle Shin. She easily slides onto his cock with a very pretty moan. "Sh-shin~."

"That's it. You enioy that, Noi?" He lays back and beckons you over. At this point, you're so high from pleasure you've forgotten why you were scared of them in the first place. "Come here and sit on my face, (y/n). Face Noi; she gets needy when she's getting fucked."

You take your rightful place on your golden throne, and are very pleased to find he's just as talented with his mouth. He gets to work alternating sliding his tongue in and out of you and suckling your huge throbbing clit. Your moan is interrupted by Noi taking your face gingerly in her hands and kissing you. She bounces hard and rough on Shin's dick, but her kiss is soft and gentle. Her tongue snakes out to dance with yours, exploring your mouth and feeling the muscle inside. She wants to taste everything she can of you, and you want to taste her. Every bit of her.

It feels like you're kept in a state of pleasure limbo. Everytime you get close to climax, Shin seems to sense it and stops, dangling your release by a thread. You can both tell Noi is getting close, though. Her moans get louder and more frequent, until she's practically screaming and shaking. Shin takes pity on her, grabs her hips, and brings her crashing down into an orgasm. You watch a wonderful display of juices flying all over Shin's hips and Noi's thighs. You realize, like you, Noi must be a squirter. It's an incredible thing to watch. In your haze, you think she must be exhausted from that, but no. She slips off on Shin, whose chest is heaving with the effort of catching his breath.

"You okay?" She pulls you off of his face and toward herself.

"Yeah- hah...just gotta catch my breath..." He grunts and sits up.

"I wasn't asking you." She pouts, then returns to caressing and coddling you. "Think you can do one more?" She guides your head down to her chest. "I just wanna make sure of something~..."

"Yeah, anything for you." You don't even care, you just want to please this goddess. You don't register Shin moving behind you until he's already lined up with your wet hole. "H-huh?"

"Shhh, just be good." She guides your head lower until you're facing her white pubes (you never thought they could be that color, does she dye them?). She's got a full bush, and it's smeared with her and Shin's mixed cum. For some reason that seems to be the most erotic thing so far for you tonight, if the sudden ache in your pussy is anything to go by. And go by it you will, because as soon as that heavenly dick is back inside of you hitting all new spots, you swear you can hear angels singing. It might also just be Noi's moaning as you lick long, wet stripes up her cunt.

Your tongue swirls around her clit, exploring her nub and the fleshy folds it's nestled in. She tastes savory, but not bad. It's just...different? It has a different flavor than Shin's dick. And she's so warm and inviting. You slip three fingers easily into her, pulling a pleasured gasp from her pretty lips. Once your curl them, though, that's when she starts really singing. You're a person on a mission until Shin's starts to really get going.

As you are fingering Noi, he's rocking in and out of you at a steady pace. He's not going as deep as before. Instead, his cock is pushing into your g-spot and rubbing deliciously. You're being worked up slower than before, but you feel something bigger building. Your thighs are shaking, and your hips are starting to hurt where Noi had gripped you before and Shin is gripping you now. Exhaustion is wearing on you, but god you're so close, you can practically see the finish line in your mind!

Noi's moans start getting louder, matching Shin's uncharacteristic gasps of pure pleasure. Even you are giving them some loud cries between suckling and licking Noi's cunt. She suddenly grabs your head between her thighs. You might suffocate, but you'd die happy between these plush pillars of muscle. She holds you there, barely being able to move your head let alone your tongue, for a few moments longer until she's ready to release you, satisfied with your performance. She relaxes with a tired sigh and strokes a hand through your hair. Your moans get louder and more desperate while she coos and encourages you to chase your orgasm.

Your pussy squeezes Shin tight and suddenly the dam breaks and you're floating. Your cum rushes out of you with loud squelching as Shin chases his release. His hips stutter and he spills inside of you. It's warm, filling you up so much that it overflows and starts running down your thighs. You don't even care, it just feels so good. You can feel his cock and balls twitch as he empties himself inside of you. Once he's done, he pulls out slowly with a grunt and collapses next to Noi.

"Well, that was fun." Noi says softly, pulling you up to her chest. "We're gonna do that again soon."

"Agreed." Shin says, sleepily throwing an arm over you. "But first, I need a nap." The muted music from the party acts as white noise and easily puts the three of you to sleep where you are.

---

You look ridiculous in this outfit. It's better than death, you decide, but still embarrassing.

"So you mean to tell me you want them to be your underling? I sent you to kill them or get their money, not recruit them." The boss, En, doesn't look happy atthis turn of events.

"No, I said I want them to be under me!" Noi's smile is as bright and wide as ever.

Shin groans, "That's the same thing, Noi. Sorry, boss. What they mean is we are willing to pay back their debt, and instead they would work directly under us."

"So why the slutty maid costume?" He tilts his head quizzically.

"Aren't they cute?! I'm gonna put them in all kinds of outfits!" Noi squeals in happiness and shows you off like a prized mare.

"Well, if it makes you happy, cousin."

Wait, he agrees?! Oh no...You realize too late just what kind of situation you're in. Oh well, better than dead, you remind yourself. Better than dead.

#reader x dhd #reader x dorohedoro #reader x noi x shin #shin x noi #noi x shin #reader x shin x noi #reader x shin #reader x noi #x reader #florence fics #does this count as yandere?#ah fuck it #tw: yandere #yandere #yandere dhd #i may rewrite this tbh

42 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

Idk if you’re still taking Bucky requests, but I came across a quote and I feel in love with it because it just screamed Bucky to me. It read: “there is nothing as beautiful as seeing someone who has been unlucky, finally being loved so effortlessly by the right person” if this sparks anything in you, I would love to read it 💜

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 1.9k

Warnings | dad!Bucky, slight language, slight suggestive theme

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky bit back a yawn as he closed the car door and headed towards the front door. The smell of spring, the freshly mowed grass and blooming flowers overwhelmed his senses along with the warm summer sun hitting his skin. This was nice, he realized, the calculated simplicity and domestic nature of it all. He hiked his bag on his shoulder, the gold in his vibranium arm glinting brilliantly in the slowly dying light of the day. He didn’t bother to hide it anymore, somehow long past that part of his life. At one point he never thought he’d reach that point in his life and now he had the world in front of him.

Walking up the stairs, he smiled to himself as he could already smell something delicious cooking through the open windows. In a vain attempt to keep the household from falling into complete and utter chaos, he slowly opened the door and tried to tip-toe inside. He managed to get about two feet inside and kick off his work boots before he heard an exciting squeal followed by a few loud woofs.

The pitter-patter of two small feet and four paws quickly reached him as Falcon, the trusted family dog, and Emily, your oldest daughter, ran down the hall towards him. Any stress he had remaining quickly melted away at the sight of two of his favorite beings as they almost knocked him over in their rush.

“Daddy!” an excited shout was followed by another bark. He bent down and scooped the small girl in his arms, the weight of the world off his shoulders as she wrapped her little arms around his neck, “hi daddy, you’re home!”

“Of course I am,” he propped her on his hip and studied her sweet little face. She took after him with his dark unruly hair and ocean eyes, but the rest he swore was all you, especially that sweet smile, “I’ll always come home to my sweetest girl. Did you have a good day, baby?”

“Yeah,” she nodded excitedly as he brushed her hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “mama and I painted and then we planted some new flowers. She said she picked them out because they reminded her of you!”

“She did, did she?” he couldn’t stop the grin that spread from ear to ear as his heart fluttered in his chest. Even to this day you still managed to make him weak in the knees and set off butterflies in his belly. He held Emily tightly in his grip as he bent down to give Falcon a few pets, causing the dog to rub against his legs as he wagged his tail, “what would I do without my little hellraisers?”

“Mama says that’s a bad word!” Emily looked at him with wide eyes and he chuckled softly before holding a finger to his lips.

“It’s our little secret,” he whispered as she nodded, “do you know why this secret is okay?”

“Because it’s not gonna hurt anyone,” she asked as he nodded. She gave him a wide gap toothed grin as he set her back down, “will you play with me later, daddy? Falcon wants to have a tea party!”

“Of course,” he promised his daughter as she held tightly onto his hand, “now go and get cleaned up for dinner. It smells like it should all be done soon.”

“Okie dokie,” she dropped his hand and motioned for Falcon to follow her instead, practically bouncing up the stairs.

Bucky sighed in content as he shook his head before slowly making his way into the kitchen where he was sure you were. He found at the island, brows furrowed in concentration as you chopped vegetables for the salad. Your baby boy was slung around your chest, and despite the commotion from Bucky’s entrance, he was fast asleep. A lump welled up in his throat as he watched the sight. It would be nothing special to most people, but to him it was everything.

You looked so beautiful, even in your sweatpants and t-shirt with your hair a chaotic bun as you hummed to the baby under your breath. You looked tired and he felt bad for a moment; leaving you with a toddler and a baby was a ton of work and he would have gladly stayed home with you and helped, but you were insistent that he work if he wanted. You’d never hold it against him, he knew that.

As soon as you sensed you his presence in the kitchen, you turned to him and gave him a soft smile, and his own features softened even more, “hello, my love. I’m so glad you’re so home!”

You set down the knife before slowly making your way over to him, careful not to disturb the baby as he immediately leaned down to kiss you. Your whole body was practically humming from his touch as you stole you a few more kisses, “rough day? You should have called me and I could have come home, honey baby.”

“It wasn’t bad actually,” you promised, watching with nothing but adoration in your eyes as he stroked Stevie’s chubby little cheek, “the chaos duo was on their best behavior today and the little one has been sleeping most of the day. I think he wore himself out from all his fussing last night.”

“Miracles do happen,” he laughed lightly as his hand went to your face and he gently stroked your cheek. You grinned at him, keening into his touch like a cat to the sun, “you are so beautiful.”

“Shut up,” you playfully pushed his chest before hiding your face behind your hands. Funny, how even after all this time he still managed to make you feel nervous and shy, “I’m in my ugliest mom clothes which I’m pretty sure these sweats have permanent puke stains, I haven’t showered today and I look like I haven’t slept in five years. Hardly beautiful.”

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on regardless of all of that,” he insisted softly, reaching for your hands and pulling them away from your face. Your whole body flushed with pleasant warmth as you looked into his eyes, “and I love you more than anything in this world.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause I let you knock me up twice,” you joked as he playfully rolled his eyes, “god, Bucky, how do you still make me feel like this?”

“Like what?” he asked as he slowly moved to undo the sling from your chest and take the baby from you. Stevie made a few small sounds before cuddling up on Bucky’s chest.

“Like I’m still falling in love with you every day,” you whispered as you leaned in and let him wrap arm around you as well. He kissed the top of your head before sighing in content, “I guess I am. We’re a little different every day - we’re definitely not the same fools from when we first met, huh?”

“I mean, we’re married and have kids, and the whole you know, typical suburban thing going on,” he teased, “so I’d say we’re pretty different. But you’re still my favorite pain in the ass.”

“James!” your eyes widened before the two of you broke into a fit of giggles, “I will get you back for that later!”

“Oh, I definitely count on it,” he promised, “now, go and take a few moments to yourself, shower or whatever, and I’ll finish dinner and get the kiddos and Falcon settled.”

“Whatever would I do without you, my love?”

“I think the better question is what would I do without you, honey baby?”

You blew him a little kiss as you all but ran towards the stairs in order to fit in a quick shower. Sometimes even ten minutes of peace and quiet would suffice. Bucky watched you go with a soft smile on his face, before turning his attention back to his softly cooing son, “your mama’s the best person in this entire world, I hope you always know that.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What?” you could feel Bucky’s eyes on your back as you brushed your teeth in the bathroom en suite. He was sitting in bed, winding down with some television as he waited for you, “I can feel you checking out the goods, Barnes.”

“That’s because I am,” you could practically hear the cheeky smirk in his voice, “it’s not wrong to admire, is it?”

“You’re too much,” you dried your face off before making your way back over to him. He offered you a lazy smile as he pulled back your side of the blankets and made room for you. You were only wearing his shirt and a pair of old cotton panties but he was watching you like you were the best in this world. Because to him - you were. The end all and be all, “James? What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing,” he whispered as he immediately reached for you and gently pulled you into his lap. You made a small sound of surprise but easily gave into his touch, “nothing at all. I’m perfect.”

“Hmm,” you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his plump lips, gently tugging on his dog tags, “me too. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but I kind of like you a lot.”

“Is that why you married me? Had two kids with me? Got the dog?” he raised a brow as you carded a hand through his dark locks, scratching lightly at his scalp, “I bet it was all for the dog.”

“He didn’t hurt,” you joked, gently stroking his cheek, “but you aren’t so bad either. I love you, Bucky. So much. I hope you know. I hope you know you deserve this, everything we have - the whole world.”

“I…” he paused for a moment, suddenly feeling overwhelmed as you showed him so much tenderness and delicate love, “I love you too.”

“Hey,” you put your hand under your chin and turned his face up towards yours, “I mean it James Buchanan Barnes. You have been through so much, so much that other people forced on you, and you deserve happiness. You deserve all the happiness this world has to offer. I know you have some bad days, and I understand that, but I want you to know I will always be here for you and I will always love you. You are my best friend, my husband, the father of my children, you are my everything.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he took your hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Yes,” you insisted softly, “you do, James.”

“I-”

“How about for one moment you hush up,” you pushed him back against the headboard and pressed a few gentle, lazy kisses to his lips, “and just listen to me. And let me love you.”

“I love you, honey baby.”

“I love you too, James.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @april-showers-and-flowers @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish @patzammit @niki-xie @xxlovingfandomsxx @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @actual-spawn-of-satan @punkerthanpascal @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @neptunesglow @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @hrtsgetbrkn @ironicfoxes @iilwjbb @cc13723things @thenormreedus @gooddaykate @natthebattygeologist @sociallyantisocialbutterfly @n3ssm0nique @daughterofthenight117 @riddikulus-obsessions @imaginelover88 @saint-bvcky @banana-cheese-cake @sleep-tight1 @missstef23 @moonlacebeam @asylummara @wakandabiitch2 @hoodedbirdie @mysweetlittledesire @reallyloudstarlight @vintagepigeon @froggyy06 @fleurydelacoury @veil-of-time @queenbeean

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

361 notes · View notes

authoressskr · 3 years ago

Text

october is it’s own magic

[october 3rd]

Characters: f!plus size reader, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, James Rhodes, Pepper Potts, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, mentions of Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, and Nick Fury

Warnings: Language, no Beta, basically this is me writing for myself :: Notes: this will be a series. i will be posting it (hopefully*) every day until Halloween. And thanks to @firefly-graphics for the use of the divider! :: Word Count: 521

Soulmate AU. Bucky has a secret admirer. They keep leaving him all sorts of autumnal goodies with little notes. But who the hell is it?!

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post, translate, or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

[october 2nd]

The next morning, you arrive at your office to see a giant basket of things wrapped in orange cellophane on your desk. Wrinkling your forehead a little, you walk around your desk to sit in your seat, which now has a fall-themed blanket draped across the seat and arms. God, you loved comfort items! You carefully move the blanket to the back of your chair and seat, settling down to look at the basket that takes up most of your desktop. Tugging at the black satin ribbon, it releases the hold on the cellophane and you greedily reach inside for the letter at the forefront.

‘No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.’ - John Donne. But especially yours, my fall lover.

It’s written in lovely cursive with no name or anything else to give you a clue to the giver, frowning a little as you set the card to the side and stick your hand in to begin pulling things from the basket. There are a few scented candles, one a cinnamon pumpkin and the other one simply states “Mansion” with the iconic Haunted Mansion wallpaper print on the sticker which nearly makes you squeal with delight. There are a few face and foot masks and a couple of pair of your own spooky socks tucked along the edges, with a pair of novelty pumpkin earrings, and sat in the center is the loveliest leather-looking bound book with beautiful burnished gold scrollwork and an embossed man upon a horse with no head, a pumpkin in his uplifted hand. You nearly break into tears at the lovely little book. You adored ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. Your goodie basket has some of your favorite fun-sized chocolates mixed amongst the black, orange, and purple crinkle paper and one of those color-changing Starbucks reusable cups with ghosts, bats, pumpkins, and cauldrons all over it.

Whoever your gift-giver was, they knew most of your likes when it came to Fall and Halloween...which made it sort of painful when you realized it couldn’t be who you wanted it to be. Your phone alarm goes off, startling from your thoughts and making you jump a bit in your chair - signaling that it was time to head upstairs so you don’t miss Bucky’s new gift from his secret admirer. Apparently, there is a lot of that going around…

Bucky is pulling his still-damp hair back when he sees you come around the slight corner, a little unsure of yourself, but he watches your expression change slightly as you make eye contact with him before your eyes sweep over his gym clothed body, cheeks pinkening just enough to give Bucky more hope as your gaze drops quickly towards the floor. At least he knows that you’re attracted to him like he is to you.

“Saved you a seat!” Tony calls out to you, watching as you hurriedly go over to him and slip into the barstool beside him, which puts you more out of reach than yesterday, and he doesn’t like that. But he also knows that while everyone may be helping him to an extent, that they also aren’t going to serve you up on a silver platter. They all will make him work for it - which is fine. He wants to be worthy of you.

“Open. Op-en. Op-en!” Everyone chants softly, looking from the little black gift bag on the counter to Bucky. Bucky rolls his eyes at their childishness but can’t help as his lips twitch upward as he reaches for the bag.

Sitting nestled in the black tissues is the cream little cardstock that he’s come to associate with his anonymous “soulmate”.

Bucky - eat, drink, and give ‘em pumpkin to talk about. Love, me.

Bucky rereads it, this time aloud for the others, setting his note to the side as his hand rustles through the black tissue to withdraw a pumpkin-shaped cookie sealed in plastic that nearly takes up most of his hand. He reaches back numerous times, revealing a dozen cookies in all, 6 with a different jack-o'-lantern expression. He realizes as he looks at them spread out on the counter before him that they’re 6 and 6 of identical cookies, half just done in traditional orange pumpkin color and the other half done in an off-white color.

“Oooh!” Wanda exclaims, flipping the nearest cookie carefully over to reveal the bakery’s sticker on the back. “I loooove this bakery! Their cookies are delicious! Vis got me some on Valentine’s Day - I loved the slight lemon tang to them.” Natasha and you nod along with Wanda’s words, Bucky watching as your fingers brush the marble just under the cookies, expression somewhere else as you smile fondly down at the cookies.

“Coulson got me cookies from there every year on my birthday.”

“And two of those giant champagne cake cupcakes too, right kid?” Clint asks as your smile widens.

“Yeah. Those are still my favorite. They taste just like the ones from my hometown bakery in California. He was thoughtful like that.”

Natasha shoves you playfully, making you laugh. “And what am I? Chopped liver? Who still gets you those cupcakes??? Huh?” You lean over to kiss Natasha’s cheek as her expression changes from teasing to smug.

“You do, Nat.”

Clint chuckles softly, watching the two of them just like everyone else. “She’s only being so nice because her birthday is tomorrow.”

“Your birthday is tomorrow?!” Tony and Steve ask incredulously, as you reach out to pat Tony’s arm.

“Don’t worry, Pepper always gets me something lovely from the two of you,” To which Tony smiles and shakes his head just a smidge.

“I do give wonderful gifts, even if I’ve never seen them.”

“Excellent taste,” Sam adds with a serious nod, which everyone shares.

“Are you all buying yourself extravagant shit for your birthdays from me?”

“Are we not supposed to?” Bucky teases, leaning his hip against the counter and giving Tony - okay, you - his full attention.

“I can’t wait to see what you get tomorrow!” You shift the conversation back to Bucky, while Steve grins at you from the other side of the kitchen.

“I saw you had something on your desk this morning when I was leaving the latest reports on your desk,” he takes a sip from his coffee cup with a sly smile. Your mouth drops open a little at his words, color rising in your cheeks at his suggestive tone.

“Yeah…” Bucky straightens up at your affirmation, forehead furrowed. He had only begun gathering things to give to her...so who was giving her things?

“Go on,” Vision encourages, Wanda patting his hand affectionately.

“It was a very large gift basket. Sooo lovely. There was a throw blanket on my chair when I came in too. It had candles, face masks, foot masks, a pair of pumpkin earrings, my own two cute pairs of spooky socks, some fun-sized chocolates, a reusable Starbucks cup with cute vinyl cutouts all over it, and the best one is a leather-looking bound version of ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. I didn’t get long to look at it, but it was beautiful. Embossed, scrollwork...it’s a perfect little book - almost like those old Regency novels.” Your entire face is so happy and serene, it makes Bucky smile and relax just watching you. You turn towards him, that sweet smile still gracing your face. “Do you have any ideas about who your secret admirer could be?”

That changes Bucky’s face to a scowl. “No. There were too many of our fingerprints on anything to get something from there...FRIDAY doesn’t record this floor unless there is an event, so nothing there either. The actual cardstock is common and when I searched all the Stark printer systems, there was no evidence of any of the images being printed from the printers in the Tower or any printer connected to our wifi. I think I’ll have to do a stakeout or something to catch them unless I get another lead.”

“Why don’t you go to the bakery and ask for the camera footage from the last week? They only sell those pumpkin ones starting in the last couple weeks of September, so you should be able to find it that way.” Bucky must look startled causing you and Natasha to smile wider.

“Why the hell didn’t I think of that?!” Bucky leans forward, kissing your cheek before he rushes for the elevator. “Thanks, doll!” He completely misses the bright red your face turns, your fingers brushing against where he kissed in shock.

[october 4th]

tagging: @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @galaxiesinmymind @mizzezm

#bucky x reader #authoressskr writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes soulmate au #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #i'm a few days behind posting this #whoops

76 notes · View notes

devianttxrts · 2 years ago

Text

when nahla got another inside glimpse at stella, she wasn’t expecting it to involve her doing karaoke. it threw her for another loop, which made it impossible for her to call her out for this sounding like a date. it wasn’t even a blip on her radar, and she tilted her head as she looked at her. “you’re not one to toot your own horn at all, are you? i guess that's something i need to be the judge of for myself.” sarcasm gave way for genuineness at the end. truthfully, she liked stella’s cockiness. she was downright attracted to it, even when it found its way beneath her skin. she couldn’t even imagine how much more insufferable stella would be if she discovered that fact, so it was best she kept it to herself. “i don’t recall shutting the fuck up for long, so maybe you’re not as good at it as you think you are.” decidedly, she was feeling better enough to embrace the smirk she could feel tugging at her lips. it was like being on a rollercoaster that never ended, nahla was sure the risk of whiplash was around every corner, but there was no denying the satisfaction she got from knowing she got to stella in kind, seeing the little tells anyone else would miss if they blinked. “why do i feel like you’re mocking me?” if she was so inclined, and it wasn’t stella the look was aimed at, nahla might have a pout on her lips. “but maybe. or at least your head.” honestly, she didn’t care. she just wanted stella to think about her, which she was pretty sure classed as needy, like she could help it. if anyone had asked even a month ago how she’d feel without stella there to increase her blood pressure, she would have said overjoyed. how was she to know the truth would turn out to be the opposite and leave her having a mini-meltdown when she did see her again? god, nahla hoped it was a one off, she couldn’t take the embarrassment. “i’m pretty sure i dropped all my cards earlier.” it made no sense, but she hated that she was giving stella ammo just as much as she didn’t care that she was. she took a moment, sizing stella up for anything beyond the sarcasm tinged in the words. what she found must have appeased her, because she shrugged, like she didn’t really care - like it wasn’t obvious by this whole damn thing that she did and there was no hiding it now. “it wouldn’t hurt.” her eyes found stella’s again, but it didn’t take long for a scowl to find its way back to her face after. sometimes, stella knew what to say. others, nahla was sure she just took pleasure in pushing her. “why would i want to waste my time thinking about that.” just the thought of thinking about it made her nauseous, and she couldn’t help the way her lip pulled up in something akin to disgust. she was starting to think stella thought she was hot when she was annoyed or something, because that’s where she kept landing. “how am i being stubborn? i’m the one that started this conversation.” if it could even be called that. regardless, she cocked her hip for no other reason than to press into stella’s hand. “what if i had plans tonight? what if i have plants to water, did you ever think about that?” she didn’t, she’d watered her plants in the morning like a normal person. and okay, maybe this is what stella meant when she said stubborn, she could see it if she squinted; nahla could never make anything easy. in her defense, this time it also served as a petty little revenge for her comment about having better. a hand raised to wave in the air carelessly, but when it stopped she let it fall to stella’s shoulder instead of back to her side. she didn’t have an argument for the rest, because she wanted nothing more than to go home with stella, she wanted to be with her over any back up plan she might have conjured if this hadn’t gone well; she wouldn’t lie about it. not that her behaviour so far would let her even if she did want to. she really had revealed too many of her cards. her lips pressed together - stella had finally made a point she could concede to. “one is more than enough.”

the funny thing was that nahla was the one person who could weaponize her embarrassing hobby. she could tease her about it; and yet, she was also the only person she'd outright told. it was this conundrum that kept stella running and never quite ready. the latter was starting to change, this night alone seemed to demonstrate that. she was with her when she could be getting laid in like sixty minutes. “come and you can laugh... or not, because i'm telling you now, i'm good.” so much for not inviting her. it was now her turn to laugh because nahla was right. her ego could be suffocating; though she knew she had reason to be cocky in this case. “oh, please... it's the only time i can get you to shut the fuck up. why wouldn't i be?” skankitude? why was she like this? and more importantly why did she like... wait? stella really shouldn't be so damn turned on by four letters; it was criminally wrong. cunt. the word practically had hers dripping. how embarrassing for her, but she managed to keep her shit together. she'd take the win for what it was, since she didn't immediately drag her into the utility closet and have her way. nahla really did know how to get under her skin at every turn. her skin was both irritating and beautifully entertaining. she wouldn't glorify it though because what would be the point of fighting against her instinct so hard? “would you have preferred i think with my...” she dramatically touched her heart, like she meant it. maybe she was trying to see if she could stir something in nahla too; navigating how much of what they did was because they thought with their cunts. the little jab was amusing. her lips drew into a smirk and she laughed despite the very slight sting. “careful, you're revealing all your cards...” now she knew how to get her attention; just ignore her. but admittedly doing so actually was a hit for her too. she didn't like not being around her, somehow the quiet was starting to suffocate. before she basked it, had fun just being left to her thoughts with a pint in one hand. now they were louder; overbearing. the peace that came from her solitude had morphed into what she would call prison. stella wanted to point out that they both hadn't made any moves after their night together. the eloquence of it was refreshing. damn, she hadn't actually expected to get to her. she almost wondered while they were apart if she'd prefer it. “should i send a text next time?” it sounded sarcastic but the question in her gaze was sincere. should she? the way nahla looked away made her sick to her stomach. she wanted to chase her gaze. was she blushing? red looked as good on her as green did. “maybe i've had better, huh? you ever think about that?” she had not but that was hardly the point. she squeezed her hip. “seriously, stop being stubborn and come home with me tonight. we can pretend all we like, but you know that's where you want to be. not with one of these assholes.” she quietly pushed out the rest of her thought. "besides you already have one of those in your life, and one is enough."

#uncreativemuses #uncreativemuses; stella #nahlaxstella #m; nahla #you did it!!!#and without murder (presumably) too!!#we are proud #also if any of this is ? at all nahla's still in her little spiral and it's hard to get that damn girl's circles in words #so really it's stella's fault even though i'm pretty sure she's actually being the mature one here (shock horror)

19 notes · View notes

warmblanketwhump · 4 years ago

Text

unexpected (villain x sidekick)

inspired by this incredible prompt from @ive-got-whumperflies

“Target has been captured and is en route.”

Villain couldn’t help the smile that crept into their cheeks. Finally, finally, they’d be another step closer to taking down Hero. Get to their beloved Sidekick, rough them up a bit, and get all the intel they needed. They might even be able to lure Hero to their headquarters for a futile rescue attempt - oh, it was just too much to hope for.

“Target has arrived,” the muffled voice said over the comms system.

“Bring them up. I want to say a few words before sending them down.” Over the years, Villain had realized that there was nothing quite as wonderful as holding all the cards and seeing someone's face when they realized it.

The door buzzed, and a body was roughly shoved through the door and fell to the ground. Villain stood from their desk and came to where Sidekick lay on the ground. They had their speech all planned out: a hint at the torture that awaited them, a couple threatening jabs designed to really break their spirit, and then a last chance to turn on Hero and divulge their plans before–

But Villain's plans were shattered when Sidekick shot up from their prone position on the floor, wrapped their arms tightly around Villain's legs, and began weeping inconsolably. Villain could barely make out the words, but when they did, their jaw dropped.

thank you, thank you, oh god thank you –

This blubbering went on for a minute or so, and Villain marinated in the sheer awkwardness of...whatever this was, which was most certainly not what they'd planned for.

"Alright. Sidekick. Calm down." Villain patted their head stiffly and pried Sidekick's grateful arms off of their legs, now sore from how tightly Sidekick was clinging to them. They deposited their captive on a nearby chair, and there, Villain could size up who they were up against and what they could inflict.

But from the looks of things, Villain had - quite literally - been beaten to the punch.

Sidekick's face sported a black eye, a split lip, and several nasty-looking scrapes and gashes. Their usually spotless outfit was torn and dirty, and Villain could see bruises on their exposed skin. Sidekick clutched their left wrist to their chest and shook uncontrollably - whether from fear or the over-air conditioned room, Villain couldn’t tell.

"Did my associates do this to you?” Probably from the struggle of the capture - they made a mental note to berate their lackeys for disobeying them yet again. “I told them not to touch you before you had a chance to turn–"

Sidekick shook their head earnestly. Well. Not Henchman, then.

And there was more to this scene that unsettled Villain. The uniform hung loosely on Sidekick's thin frame, and Villain could see the hollowness in their drawn, pale face. And there was something about their demeanor – cowering in a chair, not quite meeting Villain's eyes, that was so different from the defiant fireball they'd met in their previous clashes with Hero. Villain frowned. Something wasn’t right.

"Then who did this to you?" Sidekick seemed frozen. They opened their mouth, but no words came out. "Is there another Villain I need to watch out for?"

Sidekick nodded - yes. Their eyes filled with fear, and Villain felt something in their heart clench. They were no saint, but they'd never seen someone so afraid. The truth was, they really only loved to torment the defiant ones, the arrogant ones who refused to admit that they could break like anyone else. But this one – this one was already broken. And there was just no joy to be found in that.

Villain knelt before Sidekick, whose tears began slipping from their eyes in earnest.

"Sidekick. Who did this?"

Sidekick released a shuddering sigh. "Hero," they whispered. voice cracking.

Villain's head spun. No....it couldn’t be.

Couldn't it?

Hero. The one who'd mocked them endlessly when they were children, making fun of their clothes, their hair, their unconventional ideas.

Hero. The one who cheated them out of the coveted top spot at the local training school all those years ago .

Hero. The bright, shining example that the city worshipped while Villain slunk in the shadows and did their business in a less...conventional manner.

Hero. The one that everyone trusted, loved, revered, when only Villain knew the truth.

“Hero did this to you?”

Sidekick nodded, and the tears came freely. They told their tale - how they’d accidentally come across some of Hero's shady dealings and thought it was a mistake. But when they’d confronted Hero, Hero had turned on them - told Sidekick they were being irrational, unfair, judgmental, that they didn’t understand what it took to have the weight of the city on their shoulders, all but confirming that it wasn’t a mistake at all. Sidekick had been heartbroken, and set out to redeem the mentor they idolized.

For months, they'd tried to help hide what Hero was doing. Siphoning money from dark places, putting their friends in power and defaming good, honest people who stood in their way. Hiding behind a perfect smile while manipulating everyone around them into perfect submission. Sidekick fought every day to try and redeem the good person they though they knew, but it was no use - that person didn't exist.

But the worst came when Sidekick tried to leave - and Hero wouldn't let them. Villain swallowed hard as Sidekick described what happened - nights, starving, alone, and locked in a cold cell. Dangerous missions where Hero forced Sidekick into danger, only to rescue them at the last possible moment. “Trainings” that lasted for hours and left them bloody and bruised. All from the person Sidekick had looked up to. And if they said a word, it was Sidekick's family who would pay the price.

Until Villain came, swooped in, and stole them from a situation that they couldn’t see any other way out of.

“So...now I’m here.” Sidekick met Villain’s eyes warily, cheeks slightly reddening with embarrassment. “And I guess...you’re gonna hurt me too. But I never would have gotten out of there without you. And at least now, my family's safe. So...thank you.”

Villain had never felt this before - the quiet gratitude of someone who’s life they’d accidentally made better. The ache of sympathy for the thin, shaky waif in front of him, who had nowhere else to turn. No, this was very new. And terrifying. And it felt...good.

"No."

Sidekick’s eyes clouded with confusion at Villain's sudden outburst. “What...what do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Villain met Sidekick’s eyes, feeling like a fire was being stoked in their gut. "I'm gonna take Hero down. Once and for all. Will you help me?"

Sidekick met their eyes and nodded, a new understanding filling them with a light Villain never thought would return.

Villain buzzed their comms system, and Henchman answered with a grunt. “You want me to come in and get started?”

Villain cleared their throat. “There’s been a change in plans. I have some...new intel. Bring up some soup, a couple blankets, and a first aid kit. Sidekick and I have a few things to talk about.”

#hero x villain #villain x sidekick #whump prompt #hero whump #villain whump #hurt comfort #whump fic #abuse tw #gaslighting tw #good villain #redeemed villain #whump writing #villain caretaker #no idea how to tag this #all i know was it was super fun to write #thanks for the amazing prompt!!!#also pls lmk if you want something tagged a certain way #i am more than happy to add things if i missed them!!#my writing

240 notes · View notes

storiesbymads · 4 years ago

Text

NECESSITY NUMBER ONE: BOTTOMLESS MIMOSAS² ( sun kissed desires . )

Y/N finds herself on the lovers cruise she was supposed to be on with her fiancé—ex-fiancé—when she meets a single man in the suite right next to hers.

warnings: none

add yourself to the taglist + series masterlist

You had, surprisingly, made it through your first night without another hitch. Room service brought you plenty of strawberry daiquiris and you’d even popped open the bottle of champagne. Suffice to say, you didn’t really remember your night.

What you do remember is the pounding in your skull when you woke up this morning. The way the boat was rocking didn’t really help the hangover, either.

Ungracefully, you pulled yourself out of the incredibly warm bed and made yourself somewhat presentable enough to get breakfast outside of your room.

The trip to your en-suite brought back unpleasant flashbacks from the night before and you took the liberty of vigorously spraying the tiny bottle of Lysol given to you underneath the sink. You pulled your hair back enough with a hair clip that you could wash your face and brush your teeth without it getting in the way, not even bothering with the idea of makeup before re-entering the bedroom part of your room. Your tiny makeup bag was still in the bottom of your suitcase and had yet to be unpacked, yet, anyway.

You unzipped the black duffel bag lying on the floor next to the dresser for the first time since you’d put it there. Grabbing the first pair of sweats and a tank top you saw, you slipped them on and shoved whatever necessities you’d need to leave the room.

The sound of another door clicking shut didn’t even register in your brain when you first got into the hallway.

“Good Morning,” a voice from beside you said. Your head snapped up to meet his gaze.

And there he was. He had a pair of black gym shorts on that showed off his thighs in the most glorious way possible and there was a small white towel thrown over one of his shoulders. Your eyes trailed the nakedness of his chest before the sound of him clearing his throat startled you out of your daze.

“Morning!” you blurted out. He offered you a small chuckle in response with a shake of his head before walking past you towards the gym near the end of the hall. Thank God you were walking the other way, lest you look any more like a creepy stalker girl.

“Alcohol,” you said as you started your venture to the dining hall. You were in desperate need of some solid food if you were going to continue on your champagne escapades.

It was pretty dead when you finally made it there. Figures since it was currently 7:45 in the morning and the only reason you were awake is because you passed out at 9:00 the night before. You found a booth situated against one of the furthest walls and practically threw yourself onto the blue leather.

“What can I get you?” a brunette woman with probably the whitest teeth you’d ever seen in your life asked. Her smile was probably bright enough to blind you if you looked directly at it.

“Waffles sound nice…” you trailed off. “Do you guys have waffles?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said. The addition of the ma’am made you feel older than it should’ve. “Will that be all for you?”

“Chocolate chip waffles, please. And a mimosa,” you said.

“Just letting you know that we are offering bottomless mimosas for the extent of our allotted breakfast time this morning if you’re interested,” she said.

“That sounds perfect,” you practically moaned. If you didn’t get yourself together soon, you were sure you were going to get ejected off this cruise.

“I’ll be back with that in a little while,” the girl said. You dropped your head on the table the second you were alone.

You heard the seat in front of you being taken before you saw it, the leather crinkling beneath whoever was stealing your private time away.

“Honey, you look like you got hit by a hurricane,” Sigma said, her oddly freezing hand finding yours on top of the table.

“You’re so kind,” you said, the words muffled by the laminate.

“One of my many talents,” she said. You picked your head up off the table. She was in much better condition than you. She already had what looked to be a bikini on under a cover up and her hair was done up in dutch braids.

“Where’s your husband?” you asked, running the fingers of your free hand along your brow bone.

“Still sleeping. I was hungry and I couldn’t get him up, so,” she said, tossing one of the blonde braids over her shoulder. “What about you? I saw that key card of yours yesterday.”

“What?” you deadpanned.

“Your key card. You have a sweetheart’s suite…” Sigma trailed off. “Who’ve you got hiding up in there?”

Your face paled. Of course your room was a lover’s suite. That would explain the champagne. And the condoms.

“It’s not- I don’t,” you stuttered. “My ex booked this trip when we were still together and I’d already taken the time off work.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s fine. You couldn’t have known,” you said, smiling slightly as the waitress dropped your first round of mimosas off at the table. You noticed that she’d placed one in front of Sigma, too.

Maybe it was the headache in the back of your skill you’d get to take care of and maybe it was the fact that you’d just been brutally reminded of the entire reason you were on this cruise in the first place but you found yourself down four mimosas within the next half hour.

And another twelve before you’d decided to call it quits and head back to your room for the remainder of the morning.

Thankfully, you found your room faster than the previous day and were standing in front of the wood within ten minutes of your disembarkment. And there he was walking towards you again. The incredibly, way too hot guy that slept in the room next to yours.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” you said with a slight giggle. Your words slurred slightly but not noticeable enough to bring any extra attention to it.

“Oh, yeah?” the dark haired man asked. He’d barely made a move to enter his room, key not even in hand. He rested his fists against his hips as his eyes raked over your appearance. You felt the sudden need to hide your body from his view, crossing your arms over your chest. “How’s your day drinking going?”

“How’d you know-“

“You weren’t exactly quiet about your morning activities earlier,” he chuckled. You silently cursed yourself out for making yourself out to be a drunk before the sun was even fully out. “Saying ‘alcohol’ while stomping down the hall like you’re on a mission isn’t the most subtle thing in the world.”

“I promise I’m not an alcoholic,” you said, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sure,” he said, though his tone was light enough that you could tell he was probably joking. Probably.

He was gorgeous, not that it was really all that difficult to come to that conclusion. His skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat in the fluorescence of the hallway lighting and the gold from the chain around his neck looked like it was sparkling. The towel from earlier was hanging out of his right pocket and it looked far from dry.

“Wait a minute. Have you been working out this whole time?” you asked, jae practically hitting the floor at your realization.

“You’d be surprised about how long I can last,” he said only for a redness to england his features seconds later. He must’ve realized what he’d insinuated.

“Wanna prove it to me?” you asked. Maybe bottomless mimosas weren’t a bad idea.

The man coughed, halfway choking on his own saliva. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” you said. The flush had already receded from his cheeks, though the slightest bit still stained the tips of his ears.

“My name is Sidney,” he said. “And maybe when you’re sober.”

He pulled the key card out of his pocket as he spoke, leaving you alone in the hallway before you really had the chance to comprehend what all had happened.

tagged @barzysthighs @kiedhara @butgilinsky @damndunner @thefootballfaithful @stuetzlesumlaut @penstxgal1968 @linkingdolans @englishmuffinwritesbooks @mrsvech37 @honeybearbarzal @burningbiatch @jdrysdales @hannabritta

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby series #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #sun kissed desires

175 notes · View notes

sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years ago

Note

AHH no se si se puede seguir, peroooo, sigo. Obviamente esto tiene como intencion que Geto tenga una oportunidad de ser feliz. Y me imaginaba tambien que ella en un sueño se despidiera de el para siempre y le diera todo lo que es como simbolo de su amor. Dramatismo total, te adoroooo, si quieres cambiar algo queda a tu criterio, besos :3

Translations of original request: Super apologies for making the request in Spanish. So, there is a Kate Bush song that I adore "Running up that hill", it talks about a deal with a supreme being, since I read JJK's manga along with this song I can't help but imagine a scenario where the reader realizes that the family that I built with Suguru is dying for an ideal that not even they can properly digest and cannot do anything about it and sacrifices their body and soul for the man they love. AHH I don't know if it can be continued, but, I continue. Obviously, this is intended to give Geto a chance to be happy. And I also imagined that in a dream she said goodbye to him forever and gave him everything that he is as a symbol of her love. Total drama, I adore you, if you want to change something, it's up to you, kisses: 3

One Last Breath: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1k

tw: so much angst.

masterlist

a/n: changed the time period and setting to make it even more dramatic, because that's just how I roll! Thanks for requesting, love.

You're kneeling at the prayer bench in the small sanctuary, stained glass windows casting colored light upon your face as you pray fervently, lips moving but no sound coming out.

The images of various gods dance upon the floors and create moving pictures of their creations, their love, their sacrifice. And you are stuck in the same boat as these beings, but only because the man you love put you there. "Please." You finish your prayer with that final word. "Please." The bench creaks sordidly as you stand, clutching the elbow rest tightly.

The children would be waking soon, and if you weren't home by then, you would be in trouble. Suguru couldn't be trusted alone with them anymore; it's now a matter of life or death with him. And you're fine with it being between the two of you, but when it came to the girls...

You scrub your thoughts with a shake of the head, feet quickly walking the space between the little chapel and your home. The chill of the mid-winter creeps into your bones, and you regret the lack of something to warm your shoulders, but before you can mourn the numbness in your tendons, you reach the door of your abode. When you push it open, three pairs of eyes meet yours, all huddled around the fire for warmth.

"Sorry," you whisper, shutting the door quickly. "I--"

"My love," Suguru rises from his perch, bringing his little notebook with him. "I've been thinking..." He begins his rambling about his solutions to the problem, his solutions to the continued issue of overwhelming cursed energy, his solution to make the world a safer place for you and your children.

The two girls sitting by the fire look up at you, fear in their eyes as he recounts every detail of his plan, praying you would stop their father from the self-sabotaging path he trod; stop their savior from sacrificing himself on the pyre of destruction.

"What do you think?" Geto pants, finishing his rambling. You notice the thin sheen of sweat building on his brow and your concern mounts.

"I..." The girls press their lips together in tandem, hoping you wouldn't say another word. "I think..."

Please.

"I think--" A gust of wind blows down the chimney, distracting Suguru from your thoughts and startling the children as embers dance across the cobblestones. He drops his notebook to attend to the flames, and you quickly snatch up the book, shoving it into your armpit, hiding it from view.

"I'll go get a few logs," you offer, and Suguru grunts, pushing the chairs a little further away from the fire as the girls sit in them, like the kind and protective father that he truly is. You weasel past the door and into the chilly air, walking towards the back of the house and toward the woodpile Suguru carefully maintained. You pick up two logs and then a third, dropping the notebook into the space made, and covering it up with another log on top of the pile. With the thing hidden, you heft the logs in your arms and walk back into the house, handing them to Suguru and watching as he places them into the fire one by one.

"I should start breakfast," he whispers, and you both work around each other, providing what you can for the little family you've made.

_____________________________________________________________

Your fingers tremble as you carry the book to the fire, the pages crinkling as soon as you place it in the flames. The book ignites with a burst of angry fire, snapping and melting as you watch, praying the destruction of this tome would render your family safe.

But you know in your heart it would never be enough.

That fact is solidified in your mind when the door bursts open, and one man strides into the room, his blue eyes snapping to your figure standing at the fireplace.

"Oh, god," you breathe, tears pricking at your eyes. "No."

"Where is he?" Gojo wonders, standing in the open doorway and letting the snow drift into your home. "I have orders--"

"Suguru!" you shout, hands extended as you charge at the man in the doorway. "Get the girls and go!" Footfalls echo behind you and you feel the presence of the second strongest man in all of Jujutsu sorcery stare at the scene before him.

You, with all of your waning cursed energy, can barely hold the man back. But for some reason, he lets you touch him as he stares at his long-lost friend with sadness.

"You have a family," Gojo breathes, and Geto grabs your arm, trying to shove you away from Satoru. "You have children. Why?"

"Why not?" Suguru answers, staring his friend down. "Why not want a better life for my loved ones?"

"You won't get it this way," Satoru chastises. Mimiko and Nanako shrink in the doorway of their rooms, and you realize your only option to buy them time is inside of you. You have one last wild card, one last way to save your family, but you hadn't considered using it until now.

"Suguru," you bite out. "You need to leave."

"He's only leaving with me," Gojo answers for him, blue eyes still focused on his old friend. "There's no way you escape this."

"Listen to me," you beg the raven-haired man. "You need to get the girls and go."

"What about you?"

"I'll catch up." You both know you won't, but as the stripe on your chest begins to bleed, you raise your hands into a fighting position. "Just run as far and as fast as you can."

_____________________________________________________________

The fight is over before it's really even started. You lay against the brick of the fireplace, blood draining from your mouth in a pool beneath your head.

"Did I... at least... buy them... some time?" you choke out, blood splattering on the sleeve of the man who is propping you up against the wall.

"Enough time," he mutters, swiping at your chin with a rag from the table. "Might have even saved them if Su gives this whole thing up." You exhale shakily, closing your eyes slowly then reopening them. The sapphire eyes are the last thing you see before you drift off into the Between, your final breath spent with one last prayer:

"Please."

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen getou #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou suguru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

59 notes · View notes

dreamcure · 4 years ago

Text

note: this has been uploaded a number of times to my accounts in the past. i am the original author, vinny, and this is not plagiarized work.

cw: pwp (smut), drug use (weed), no established relationship, fucking in front of a friend, female reader.

word count: 2.8k

“Is he all right?” You tilt your head from your spot on the couch, sights fixed on Tadashi at the other end of the couch.

The boy had his body turned away from you, presumably cuddling the couch pillow. You were so occupied in your ridiculously deep conversation about dinosaurs with Tsukishima that the two of you had forgotten to pass the joint to Tadashi these last couple of rounds. While it bounced back and forth between just you two, Yams must have drifted off into dreamland. He was always a lightweight, so neither of you were necessarily surprised when he was done after just three small takes.

To cover your asses and make sure he was still breathing, Tsukki raised his hand and put a finger under Yam’s nose to feel for air. Once he exhaled hard enough, the blonde brought his arm back and gave a nod of approval. You each sat on your sofa cushion in your living room, Tsukki in the middle, you on his right, and yams on his left. Since Tsukki was the one to bring the joint this time, he lit it and got to hold onto it longer than anyone else. He was currently holding it close to his face and inspecting the little red embers of weed slowly going up in smoke. Then his beautiful eyes turned to you and his eyebrows turned up as he held the stick out to you in offering.

“I’m okay,” you say, almost giggling. Your head tipped to the side and landed on the back cushion of your sofa. “I’m really feeling it.”

Tsukki tch’ed and brought the joint back to his lips to take another, much longer hit now that it was all his.

“What was that for?” You frowned at his little tch noise. How dare he be upset that he didn’t have to share anymore.

You had to wait until he exhaled all the smoke before you got your answer. It came out his nose as if he were a dragon. He hasn’t even coughed yet - what a champ.

“We come over to smoke and you both are done before we’ve even gotten to the next joint,” He said dismissively.

“You brought a second joint?” You look at him, incredulous.

He just smirks and pulls the candy mint tin out of his pocket. Anyone who knows your friend group knows that there were no mints in that tin. Tsukki opened the little container and put out the lit joint, now a stub, on the lid, then laid it to rest beside the other perfectly rolled stick. You could just kiss him - he was so considerate when it came to smoking with the group, even if you didn’t get to the second one this time. Plus, and this goes without saying, Tsukki was the best at rolling perfect every time.

Instead of putting the tin back into his pocket, he leaned forward and put it on the coffee table where it would stay until he left, or until he decided to light again. He leaned back and got comfortable after that. Arms crossed, knees spread apart, and back slouching. His face was turned to Yamaguchi, though, admiring how high he could get with just a little bit.

“So, the cutie is asleep. We can’t play cards against humanity now,” You say reluctantly. “What do we do now?”

You didn’t hear a thing from Tsukki, as if he hadn’t heard you at all. His attention was still trained on Yams, asleep on his end of the couch. You did see he was smirking, though, maybe even a bit absent-mindedly.

“Earth to moon god,” You wave your hand in front of his face to finally get him to turn back to you.

“Don’t call me that,” He mutters. To which you call him moon god again and shake his shoulder playfully.

“I asked you what you wanted to do now that we can’t play cards against humanity.”

There was that smirk again. “We can figure something out,” He says as he tips his head back once again.

It’s hard not to stare at him while he’s like this. Tsukki is completely relaxed. Your eyes take a trip down his body while you think he’s not actually paying attention. His eyes are a little irritated from the smoke, but his lips look so soft and are still tugging upward at one side. Lower, you look over his neck and where his adam’s apple protrudes while his head is back at that angle. What you would give to press your lips to it right now, and leave a few marks while you were at it. The fact that your mind was going wild right now didn’t stun you in the least. It had to be the weed. Nonetheless, your eyes kept going down, down, down, until you finally had to close your eyes and bow your head to get your attention back on track.

If you didn’t stop with your wandering eyes soon, you’d have a second heartbeat to deal with while two of your closest friends are high as kites on your sofa. Though, you spoke too soon because the thought of lifting Tsukki’s shirt to see his toned stomach - and him letting you - invading your mind had the familiar throbbing show up between your legs.

When you thought that he hadn’t been paying attention to your fixed stares, he surprised you by putting his palm over your knee. Your chest fills with warmth like you had just drunk hot cider on a freezing day. You raise your gaze again, only this time your eyes are stuck on his lips. The next thing you know, he puts an arm around your shoulders and he’s leaning in to give you exactly what you want, which is a gentle kiss to your lips. His hand grips firmly on your knee once your mouths meet. He leaned into you with so much eager force that he had you leaning back into the arm of the sofa. What else would those stares be meant for if it wasn’t your thirst for him?

This had not happened before, but your mind was bringing back memories of one night when you had confessed to Tadashi. You had admitted that when you get high with the group that you often think about kissing Tsukki silly. It was something that made your lips tingle just thinking about it - both above and below the belt. Who knew that your first kiss would be thc induced. Apparently your wishes were answered because he was kissing you right now, and your buffering mind was struggling to keep up. Either Tadashi outed you to your best friend, or your best friend was smart enough to pick up on all the times you’ve looked at him vacantly a little too long.

Sensing a bit of unease coming from you, Tsukki pulled away. You look at him, and he looks back a bit confused. You assume that maybe he was thinking, ‘you were just sizing up my crotch but now you’re not going to kiss me?’. But to your surprise, he didn’t say anything like that. He whispered, “Is this okay?”

Tsukishima was asking for your consent to kiss you. What you didn’t have the mental capacity to tell him was that your failure to kiss him back wasn’t because you didn’t want to - you did! - but rather you were stupefied and suddenly thinking that somehow he could read your mind. As if your very obvious ogling wasn’t proof enough that you wanted him badly.

“It’s perfect,” You murmur. Your eyes were trained on his glistening bottom lip.

That’s when he closed the gap between you again, pulling his arm snug around your neck and connected your lips again. This time, you seized the opportunity that was given to you a second time and returned the kiss immediately. Seemingly without effort, your lips melded together like puzzle pieces. This kiss was not like the first. While the first was innocent, this one already had your tongue begging to taste his. It could very well be your high talking and how you didn’t often get this amazing quality of physical contact, or it could be how you’ve always been at least a little attracted to him all of this time you’ve been part of the group with him and Tadashi.

Oh, god, Tadashi was asleep at the other end of the couch still. As much as you wanted to care, your mind was clouded when Tsukki tilted his head and enriched the already beautiful kiss. You could tell that the last drag he took really did him in, because the longer this went on, the sloppier he got. It couldn’t possibly help that your own lips felt like numb static against his. Completely disregarding your previous thoughts about how you should be more respectful to your sleeping friend, you parted your lips at the first sign of any tongue.

Tsukki slipped his tongue into your mouth once you invited him in. His lithe fingers moved up into your hair before you could realize they had ever left your knee. You match his efforts and feel your fingertips run smoothly over his jawline as he sucks lightly on your tongue. You hope and pray that it will never end, because he’s so good at this… Or you were too high to notice how awful this was.

The only sounds in the room were the TV playing some reality show, the sound of Yams’ soft inhales and exhales as he sleeps, and the lewd noises you were making with Tsukki. The kissing progressed so deep that occasionally your teeth would gnash with the carelessness you both exhibited. The fingers in your hair tugged the strands at the roots as he got a little more into it. You were the one to cave and moan first. Those fingers in your hair, plus his tongue running over yours was the perfect formula to make your pussy start to run like a waterfall.

Your quiet little mewl had broken his focus on the kiss. His swollen lips curled into a dopey little grin, and his first instinct was to tease you for your slip up.

“Don’t you dare,” You mumble to him and attempt to spark the kiss again in order to silence whatever fun he was about to make of you. It’s no use, though, because Tsukki lips were thinner due to the sudden grin on his face. God, he’s so beautiful when he smiles.

It was a cocky grin, and if you cared to look you’d see the slightest indentations of dimples in his cheeks. Oh, boy, you were in for it. You braced yourself for teasing. He was the one to kiss you first, but he was surely going to ridicule you for moaning like you did.

To your surprise, he eventually comes down from his giddy giggles and his smile drops just enough to lock lips with you again. Thank heavens for your already feverish cheeks - if he was kissing you, he couldn’t see that you were as ripe as a strawberry ready for picking. This kiss was different. It had all the elements of the ones before, but with something added… desperation.

Tsukki’s hand that was once in your hair had moved back to your knee, yet it didn’t bother to stay there for long. The moment he decided to slip his tongue back into your mouth, his fingers began to travel north up your thigh. The static you once felt in your lips as you kissed was now left in the wake of his fingers as they proceeded closer to the source of all your excitement. You wouldn’t stop him. In fact, you egged him on with another little moan - a soft gasp while he sucked your tongue like candy. This time you got a response from him. In spite of the fact that he laughed at your first noise, he himself had groaned just before trapping your bottom lip in between his teeth and tugging.

That was the end of your kiss, because Tsukishima had moved on to new grounds below your jawline. It gave you space to breathe in deeply and try to get some oxygen through to your hazy mind. At his own pace, he kissed over the exposed side of your neck. Your downcast eyes saw that his knees were spread apart, practically inviting you to do something about it. Just as his hand reached under your skirt, your fingers rubbed over the slight mound leading off to his right thigh. Neither of you had an issue with some mutual touching, evidently, since neither of you made attempts to stop the other. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

While your nimble fingers rubbed his growing cock in his trousers, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to touch your breasts or your pussy. Soon, his kisses over your neck were abandoned in favour of pressing his face into your chest. If your face got any more heated you were afraid you’d feint. Even so, you push your boobs together as much as you can with your biceps in order to give him more to push his face against. The pad of his middle finger did a quick swipe up the length of your panties. The yelp you held in your throat didn’t go unnoticed by him, either.

Once again, your mind went back to your friend asleep on the same couch that you were getting intimate with Tsukki on. Tadashi was in a green coma, and probably wouldn’t wake up for at least another hour. Yet, still, you glimpse at his sleeping form, as he was the biggest threat to you getting caught in this hard-to-explain situation. Nonetheless, your fingers continue to play with Tsukishima’s cock outline.

Tsukki was just a little too far gone to remember his best friend right next to him. His face was occupied in between your bust, glasses pressed snug to his face, and soft grunts slipped from him every now and then since you started massaging his hard-on. Part of the excitement, you decided, was the chance of getting caught. Although unlikely, it was still possible.

His finger runs up and down your panties experimentally, gently pushing the fabric in between your folds where it sticks to your slick. He settles to circle around your clit once he finds it. It’s such a low hum of pleasure that you feel guilty moaning over it. Like clockwork, Tsukki lifted his face and sported a smirk.

“You’re wet, y/n, when did this happen?” He teases, as is his nature.

“I get horny when I’m high. I’m not sorry,” You defend yourself, and attempt to flip the tables. You wrap your fingers around his cock, now pretty hard in his pants, and give it a firm squeeze. You’re understood straight away, because he’s bucking against your hand with need.

“What are you going to do about the mess you made?”

“I made it? You kissed me first.”

“You moaned first.”

“I’m going to smack you,” You grumbled. Here you were, his hand up your uniform skirt making small circles around your clothed clit, your hand grasping his dick through his pants. You were equally desperate, yet you still found the time to bicker.

“Don’t you think that will kill the mood?”

You erupt in a whimper when he replaces his delicate finger with his thumb, pushing the pad bluntly against your sensitive clit. This would feel so much better if you weren’t wearing your panties at all. Maybe Tsukki would even want to keep them since he was the one to make them sopping wet. Just as you were leaning to meet him halfway for a kiss, movement traveled across the couch in the form of vibration. Before your lips could ever meet again, Tsukki’s head spun around just in time to see Tadashi push himself up into a sitting position.

The weight of his arm that was once around your shoulder disappeared. Your bodies separated in a half second - you pushed your skirt down and fixed your collar, he pulled a pillow over his lap and acted as if he’d been holding this the whole time. What you couldn’t fix so easily were the swollen lips and arousals in your bottoms. Your heart was racing and it was easy to tell by the way you were breathing shakily.

To separate yourself from the situation, you stand and leave for the bathroom to calm down from the anxiety of being caught fondling your best friend. It felt like being caught by a parent and you were scared of being grounded, or worse.

“What’s wrong with y/n?” Tadashi asks after you slam the bathroom door shut, all yawns and euphoric smiles after his green nap.

“Nothing. She’s got her panties twisted,” Tsukki lied through his teeth and did what he could to make his boner go away. “Sleep well?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader

238 notes · View notes

littleoldrachel · 3 years ago

Text

"how much did you drink?"

for the utterly wonderful @gumnut-logic who asked for how much did you drink? with virgil and scott from this prompt list. tysm my lovely 💚💚💚💚 this ran away from me a bit and i am Not Sure but i hope you still enjoy!

[if you wanna prompt me, hmu! but beware i am slooooow]

Scott slinks through the sliding doors, relishing the cooling sweat on his skin as the sky begins its raspberry ripple across the tropical island. His dawn runs are the only time he gets to really be - he loves his family with everything he has and more, but that half hour with just the consistent crunch of earth beneath his feet is his own perfect sanctuary.

And goodness knows he needs it after the past couple of days.

A flash of Alan’s terrified face as the grapple line gave way and he’d plunged -

Scott screws up his face, crumpling the image like one of Virgil’s discarded “rubbish” (read: brilliant, if rough around the edges) sketches.

Speaking of which, it’s time for Scott to do the rounds and check in on his sleeping brothers.

There’s Alan, sprawled haphazardly across the floor of his bedroom - the only sign of his near-death encounter in the careful bandaging around his forearm (“I can too still game like this, Scott, I’m not balancing the controller on my wrists??”). Gordon too, is starfished on his duvet, but beginning to stir as fractured sunlight dances across his room.

Virgil, however - most unusually - is not burritoed in blankets, which sets Scott’s choir of alarm bells ringing. He hesitates, then sighs, patching through to Thunderbird Five even as he makes his way to Virgil’s studio (also empty).

“John?” he asks quietly, because John works on an unpredictable sleep schedule that gives Scott more stress than he cares to admit, but he would like John to be sleeping right now.

“John is sleeping, Commander. May I be of service?” EOS�� voice is more than a little grating in comparison to the bird song that floats through Virgil’s open windows. Scott resists the urge to grit his teeth - he is trying, okay?

“EOS. Hi.” He rubs his chin, eyes catching on the top sketch of Virgil’s messy pile: Thunderbird One streaking across a stormy sky mid-lightning strike. “Can you tell me where Virgil is?”

“Virgil is in the hangars, where he has been for the last thirteen and a half hours,” EOS says primly.

Scott’s head snaps up, even though there’s nobody there to stare at. “What? Did he fall asleep down there?”

“No, Commander, he is very much awake.” There’s something in her tone that riles him up, a pre-rehearsed nature to it, but he deliberately sets it aside for Future Scott. He’s given a curt thanks to EOS before he’s even registered that he’s striding down to the hangars, concern driving him with a speed usually reserved for rescues.

He hears Virgil before he sees him, a loud swear and a clatter of tools as he’s rounding the corner into the workshop.

Virgil is kneeling over a workbench, picking glumly through the jumble of parts skidding across the surface. Dark brows knitted tight, skin pale beneath fluorescent white lights, a graveyard of abandoned mechanisms, drained mugs, and scraps of graph paper all around him.

"Virgil."

It comes out a little sharper than intended, slicing through the silent workshop and causing Virgil to start violently.

"Scott! What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you the same thing?"

"I'm…" Virgil gestures vaguely at the chaotic work surface. "Fixing."

"Have you had any sleep?

Virgil frowns. "I'm fine, it's not that late yet."

Scott stares, concern steadily rising. Virgil is known for losing track of time when absorbed in a task, but only usually with his art, and only for this period of time when he's upset, working something through, or...

Only then does Scott take in the way Virgil's hands tremble around the pieces of metal in his fingers, the jittering beat of his leg like helicopter wings, and slight dampness of the unstyled waves of hair across his forehead. He blinks at Scott, squinting a little in that way that Scott knows means a killer headache is brewing.

Methodically, the Commander of International Rescue surveys the room, searching for the source of the issue. His eyes land on the culprit: a coffee-stained jug, completely drained save the dregs of coffee grounds plastering the sides of the container.

It’s a big jug.

Scott swears.

“Virg. How much did you drink?”

Virgil’s eyes dart all over, not resting for a second on Scott’s face. “I - I don’t know. I just had some whenever I got tired and now I’m-” He wrings his hands, sending metal parts spilling from his palms.

“But why? What the hell were you thinking?” Scott’s tone is chiding, too harsh, and he makes a deliberate effort to reign in the reprimand that’s rearing up inside him.

“I just... “ Virgil swallows, meeting his eyes for a moment, looking away at the disappointment there. “I just needed to understand what happened to the grapple lines. To make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Oh, Virg.

Scott softens, Commander melting back into Protective Big Brother because he gets it. God knows he gets it. He steps towards Virgil, wraps a hand around his elbow, feels it shake beneath his touch.

But why like this, Virgil?

“For thirteen hours?”

Virgil blinks and the genuine surprise in his eyes is enough that Scott accepts that this wasn’t a deliberate act of self-destruction and that loosens the anxious knot in his chest a little.

“I didn’t mean -”

“I know.”

Virgil ducks. “I just needed to find out -”

“I know.”

Virgil bites his lip, and Scott knows the image of their littlest brother’s panicked face is stuck on repeat in his mind. Scott closes his eyes, allows the video to roll in his own head, and the pain that rips through his chest has him tugging Virgil into his arms for a hug. Big as he is, Virgil is never one to say no to a hug, and he folds himself into Scott’s chest with a sigh. Scott can still feel the tension thrumming through Virgil’s body, and he instinctively tightens his grip.

Trust Virgil to hurt himself with his bean-juice addiction. Frankly, they’re lucky this hasn’t happened before with the amount of the stuff he pours into his body.

“I know I’m not having a heart attack, but -”

“You know I love it when you begin a sentence like that -”

Virgil tries to laugh but it comes out a little shaky. "Shut it, you." He rests his head on Scott's shoulder. "My heart is going so fast it hurts. Feels like a goddamn panic attack."

“What the hell have you done to yourself?”

“Mild caffeine overdose,” Virgil’s voice comes out muffled. “Sorry.”

“Mild. Caffeine. Overdose.”

Virgil laughs again, a little surer this time and pulls back from the hug. “I’ll be okay. Just gonna feel horrible for a bit, I think.”

“You think. Let’s see if Grandma agrees.”

“No! Let her have her time away - this is - it’s stupid. I’m fine.”

Scott gives him a Look, but Virgil glowers right back.

Scott loves him, but Jesus, does he wish he could trust Virgil to be honest with him about his health.

“Don’t make me set you up in the infirmary. You know I’m not bluffing.”

The glare intensifies. “I’m fine, Scott.”

Scott resists the urge to roll his eyes with a truly Herculean effort. “I want to do a scan, just to be sure.” “Scott -”

He plays the trump card (regrets playing it at the look on Virgil’s face, but needs must). “I could have lost Allie too, Virg. Don’t make this harder than it is.”

Virgil sags. He taps his watch. “EOS?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“Please can you pull up my vitals for my dear big brother to fret over?”

“Of course, Virgil. Though I don’t understand why you want Scott to fret, he seems grumpy en-”

“Thank you, EOS.”

A holograph flickers into view, and Scott scans them, relaxing slightly at the lack of danger. Virgil’s heart rate is too high, as expected, and he’s dehydrated and exhausted, but otherwise, he really does seem okay. Still, Scott knows how dangerous dehydration and exhaustion can be, and more to the point, so does Virgil.

“You’re a stubborn idiot, you know that, right?”

“I learned from the best.” Virgil’s smile is teasing, but he’s okay, and Scott releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, Scooter, whatever you say.” Scott glares. “Right. You’re grounded for at least a day -” To his credit, Virgil only looks a little crestfallen. “- And you’re going to rest.”

Scott can practically see the cogs turning in his brother’s mind as he seeks a loophole or way to escape, but for now, he’s going to ignore it. Another problem for Future Scott, poor guy …

“Let’s go. Up to the lounge, now.”

“I should clear up -”

“Nuh-uh. Lounge. Now.”

Virgil lets out a loud sigh, and with much griping about leaving the workshop messy for Brains, leads the way up to the lounge. Scott follows closely, eyeing how Virgil’s feet drag with exhaustion even as his fingers tap away with restless energy.

Scott deposits him on one of the couches, tosses a throw over him, and resists the urge to tuck him in, but only because -

“I’m not sick, Scott. I’m okay! This isn’t necessary,” Virgil calls after him. Scott returns seconds later, a glass full of water.

“Drink all of this. And then have these.” Scott drops two electrolyte tabs beside Virgil. “Now excuse me, but I’m going to consult a qualified medical opinion before I believe you.”

“I am a qualified medical opinion -”

“- Who hasn’t overdosed on caffeine this morning.”

Virgil scowls. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

*****

Scott returns with Gordon, whose concerned professionalism quickly morphs into a shit-eating grin when it becomes apparent that actually, Virgil - for all his brilliance and talent - is an idiot.

But he’s surprisingly gentle when he fetches Virgil another glass of water and suitably soothing as they take a calm stroll around the flatter paths of the island to help Virgil burn some restless energy. The waft of pancakes draws them back into the lounge where Scott has stacked up thick, fluffy pancakes that melt on their tongues and warm them inside out.

By now, Virgil is visibly less shaky, and Gordon’s concern has dissipated to the extent that he blatantly steals three pancakes off Virgil’s plate. To be fair, Virgil probably doesn’t need six pancakes, but still. It’s the principle of the matter.

Scott - bless his heart - has also queued up the latest series of the ocean documentary that Gordon and Virgil gush over, but that Scott himself finds mind-numbing. The three of them squash together on one sofa, chomping pancakes and squabbling over blankets as the sun rises on another beautiful day.

Alan strolls in, nose first and still half-asleep. “Pancakes?” he says hopefully.

He catches sight of Virgil and seems to shake himself awake immediately. “Virgil? What the hell are you doing up?”

“Language,” Scott says thickly, the effect lessened by the mouthful of pancake and chocolate spread inside it.

“What the heck,” Alan waves a dismissive hand. “It’s barely ten, Virg?”

“Tell him what you’ve gone and done,” Scott says, because damn straight is he going to hold onto this one the next time Virgil’s yelling at him for taking a stupid risk. Well, at least I can drink coffee without poisoning myself, Virgil can just hear it now. .

“I drank too much coffee,” Virgil tells the ceiling.

“Sorry, V,” Gordon says, his smile wicked. “Allie didn’t quite catch that.”

Virgil sighs. “I overdosed on caffeine,” he says loudly.

“That’s a thing?!” Alan splutters. And then he bursts out laughing and Virgil wants to glare because he’s exhausted and his head is throbbing and there’s an anxious wriggle in his chest that keeps poking at his limbs.

But he also thought for one terrible moment yesterday that he wouldn’t get to hear that laugh again. The relief is infectious.

It never takes much to set Gordon off, but cracking Scott is a true victory, because for a second, the lines around his eyes crinkle with something other than stress.

Alan sets himself up with pancakes (far too smug that he’s allowed the chocolate spread on his where Virgil was only allowed syrup), and plonks himself down on Virgil’s right, bandaged arm and all. Whilst Gordon and Alan quarrel over species of tropical fish, Scott looks over at Virgil, raising his eyebrows. Are you okay? it says.

Virgil smiles and nods.

Inevitably, Scott and Gordon are called away on a rescue, just as Alan has grown tired of the nature documentary and is demanding something more exciting. Virgil consents to the first movie Alan picks out, because he’s too busy watching Gordon fly his beloved ‘Bird away with an expert hand.

God, he’s so tired. His limbs are heavy and aching from the tension of holding them in place all night and his head pounds in beat with his too-fast heart..

He’s utterly exhausted. If only his mind could get the memo. Instead it careens between thought processes: the grapple lines, his failed calculations, the disaster zone he’s left the workshop in -

It doesn’t matter though.

Because Alan’s alive and that’s all that matters.

Alan, whose gentle hand snakes through Virgil’s hair in a tender, soothing way that plucks at the knot of anxiety in Virgil’s chest, whose ministrations are a blessed, momentary pain relief for his sore head.

*****

It’s dark when he wakes, though he doesn’t remember his overwrought brain finally giving into sleep. His limbs no longer feel like they’re spasming out of control and his head aches with a more manageable pain, but he’s still drained. On the floor next to him, Alan is snoring at the centre of a nest of blankets - at least two of which Virgil is sure were wrapped around himself before...

He raises his head to look for his water glass, and nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of his oldest brother standing in the shadows, watching. He’s still in his uniform, which suggests Thunderbird One just docked - presumably her engines through the open patio doors are what woke him.

“What the fuck, Scott?” he hisses.

“Sorry,” Scott says, though he doesn’t sound particularly apologetic. He moves into the light, and repositions Alan so that he can rescue one of the blankets for Virgil once more. “Go back to sleep.”

“Did the rescue go okay?” Virgil asks instead, relieved at Scott’s easy nod - and relatively clean, dry appearance.

“Gordon’s heading back now, all good. And no issues with grapples today, thank God.” Scott’s voice is low but Virgil still flinches from it.

“I’m going to find out what happened, Scott, I swear -”

“I know you will.” Scott’s voice is so firm, so strong that it momentarily steals Virgil’s breath how much faith Scott has in him. "I know you’ll figure it out, Virg. But you don’t have to do it on your own. You and Brains will work on it and find a solution, John’s going to identify the person responsible, and EOS will make sure they can never do it again. But it’ll be when you haven't overdosed on caffeine. Do you understand?”

It’s the kindest of reprimands. The same kind of pleading why won’t you just take care of yourself tone that Virgil finds himself using more and more on Scott these days, but with so much understanding and love, Virgil finds himself blinking back tears.

He can only nod and Scott steps back. “I’m going to go shower. Get some rest, Virgil.”

Scott turns to leave and Virgil forces himself to muster up his barely replenished energy reserves. He snags Scott’s sleeve, “Scott - thank you.”

Scott smiles a smile that’s just them, soft and trusting and concerned. “God knows you’ve looked after me through far worse hangovers than this. But don’t you dare do this again, Virg. I mean it. Don’t make me confiscate all the coffee on the island, because you know I’ll do it if I have to.”

“I know you will.”

Scott runs a hand through Virgil’s messy waves fondly, letting his hand rest at the nape of his neck where the headache pain is regrouping. “Sleep, Virg.”

And he does.

#thunderbirds are go #littleoldrachel writes #virgil tracy #scott tracy #earth and sky

52 notes · View notes

guiltgoreglory · 4 years ago

Text

Heat Waves (Chapter 2: An Ego Check)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi. (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2626 words)

Chapter 1

Tagging: @abitofpablo @kimburgss @ceyruh

You watched as the dust clouds trailed behind the buggy. The rest of the trip you all sat in silence, taking in the events that had just occurred. When you saw the base from a distance you decided it was safe to holster your weapons. You wiped the sweat of your palms on your thighs as you willed your heart to slow down, and so it did. The second you felt back at equilibrium, Rone took a quick turn into the base. To no surprise, it was the most conspicuous looking place you could have imagined. You expected better from the CIA. Several armed American guards stood at the gate which was surrounded by obvious cameras. You rolled your eyes knowing that if anyone wanted to target us, it wouldn’t be hard. One guy even wore a New York Yankee’s cap. It’s like they didn’t even try.

“Check the new rides. Gaddafi had a going-out-of-business sale on armored vehicles…” Rone gestured towards the Mercedes amongst several other high-end vehicles. He whistled. Leave it to Rone to keep the tone light. “Max-leveled armored, man. We got a great deal… We stole ‘em.” Rone stared down Jack with the biggest smirk plastered on his face. He seemed extremely proud of himself for that one. You watched as a similar smile tugged at the corners of Jack’s lips. You behaved similarly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a shitty joke.

You gathered your things as the car came to a stop. Rone hopped out, throwing the keys to another man wearing a vest, “Sat unattended at the airport.” His stride paused as he watched someone from afar. You followed his gaze until you saw the Chief. This was definitely going to be something, you didn’t know what, but you could feel the subordination getting ready to bubble out of Rone. “Hey, Chief,” Rone called, nonchalantly, almost mockingly. The Chief looked like any middle-aged man who worked in business. Blue blazer, khaki pants, glasses, the whole shebang. His posture screamed superiority complex, you knew from the get-go you wouldn’t get along, not like it mattered anyway.

“I don’t want to hear it, Tyrone.” He called back, shuffling his way back into the building. Rone strutted towards him, duffel in hand.

“No, no, I understand.” He turned his head for a moment, keeping out of the way of a car

driving past. “I see what you’re going for here,” he called, on the verge of yelling, “Secret spy base with fortified walls, gate cameras,” He fumbled to get his id badge in hand. “and blue-eyed Westerners! walking in and out of this place all day long.” He did a lovely spin for emphasis, pointing towards all the obvious Americans walking around the base. You followed close behind, knowing you were going to need to speak with him as soon as Tyrone was done tearing into him. “But if you want to avoid..” His words were cut off by the Chief slamming the squeaky metal door in your face. His voice dropped a decibel and he spoke, mostly to himself, “That’s so rude”. He placed his phone into the tray mounted on the wall beside the door, before scanning in his card to gain entry. “Can’t believe he just did that to me.” Your heart started to pick up once again. Nothing made you more frustrated than a cocky man being too good to have a goddamn conversation.

The door let out a loud buzz before Rone pushed open the entrance. “Chief, if you want to avoid an international incident,” He continued to track in the Chief’s footsteps, “you send me my guys when I ask for them.” Many of the agents sitting at their computers peeked up to watch the drama unfold. Some took a look at you, the new face, before returning to watch the catfight.

Finally, the man turned to look at Tyrone, squinting in disapproval like a man reprimanding his toddler. “Local faces need to resolve local conflicts, Tyrone.” Aka, your life means little to nothing to me; the incident was just a wrinkle in my daily schedule. He flipped mindlessly through papers within a manilla folder. Wow he’s so important look how busy he is. “We’re guests in this country.” You and Jack came to stand a few feet behind Rone, trying to stay close without poking the bear.

“We’re unwanted guests, Bob.” Rone rebutted. He’s not wrong.

“We’re spies, you’re security guards.. Your job is to keep us out of trouble, not get into it yourselves.” God, he’s pretentious. Rone flipped through some files pinned onto a pillar, looking through some photos of notable people of the region.

“Well help me do my job and give me my guys.” He didn’t bother giving the Chief the privilege of his eye-line as he continued to search through the photos. You heard a buzz, and quickly turned to see the other members of the squad you were now a part of. Perfect timing. You made eye contact with one of them, Chris Paronto. Based on your prior research everybody called him Tanto, the mischievous one. Just then the Chief said some absolute bullshit.

“Here’s what you guys are good at: working out, eating five hot meals a day. What you’re not so good at is doing what you’re told.” God, he was so fucking proud of himself. Look at you little man, showing off your power in front of your team. You let a little of your annoyance slip out.

“Ironic considering without us, everyone’s a sitting duck.” You whispered softly. The men all turned their heads towards you. Well, I guess now is as good a time as ever to get this over with.

“Excuse me? And who are you? Some ex-army nobody who can’t let go of the glory of war?”

Alright, time to rip off the bandaid. You stood a little taller, stepping closer to the Chief, just beside Rone. “Honestly... I’m someone out of your security clearance.” You said assertively. Jack shared a hesitant look with Rone.

“Bullshit.” He turned away from you, readying to remove himself from the conversation.

“Alright, I think it’s best if we get a phone call over with now.” You dropped your duffel onto the tile, squatting down beside it. The armed men gripped their guns just a little bit tighter. The Chief stood, watching you confused. You unzipped the bag, reaching in to wrap your hands around a satellite phone. You zipped it back up but left it on the ground for now.

“I don’t have time for this.” The Chief began to walk towards his office as you stood, clicking a number on speed-dial.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The director doesn’t like waiting.” You held the phone to your head, keeping a straight face. That definitely made him pause. He turned back towards you, squinting his little face up.

“Director of what?” He sighed.

“Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.” You responded casually as if you were telling him the forecast for the next week. You waited as the phone continued to ring.

Everyone stood in silence except for one guy. Tanto leaned over to whisper in Boon’s ear. “Who the fuck is she?”

Finally, a voice came over the line. “Y/N.”

“Good morning, Sir. We have arrived at the location.” Everyone had their eyes on you, curiosity getting the best of them.

“Any incidents?”

“One en route to base. Resolved without violence. I’ll have a report to you within the hour.”

“Great.” He took a deep breath and you could hear him adjust in his chair. “I take it you’d like me to speak with Bob.”

“That would be appreciated, Sir.”

“Alright hand me over.” You took steady, calculated steps towards the Chief, holding the phone out for him to take. He gently took it from your hand. His eyes bore holes into the crevices of the tiled floor.

“Hello..” The Chief said tentatively. You stepped back, giving him some room. You crossed your arms across your chest, shrugging in Rone’s direction. You could tell he was living for this. “Yes, Sir…. I understand, Sir. Of course…. Goodbye.” He stood like a dog with his tail between his legs. He stepped back towards you, holding out the phone. You took it gladly with a polite smile. Pressing the phone back to your ear you concluded with a quick farewell before going back to put your phone into the duffel. As you squatted beside it, you looked up towards the Chief.

“Are we good?” You said. You no longer wanted to squabble and your tone reflected as such.

“Yes.” He said curtly, returning to his office. The second the door closed, the chatter of the room returned back to normal. You turned back to the men of the team looking at Rone expectantly.

“Alrighty then.” Rone turned to walk towards their lounge and the guys began to follow. Tanto sucked in his lips, trying to stifle a chuckle. The burly man next to him, Boon, jabbed him in the side before moving towards the room. You waited for Jack, giving him a genuine, small smile before trailing behind.

“Well, that was fun.” Mark Geist, also known by the team as “Oz”, stated monotonously, walking into the room as he disassembled his rifle.

“He gets his jollies pushing around alphas because he can.” John Tiegen. Called “Tig”. He’s the brains. The first one to be stationed here. You stood in the corner watching as he placed his things into his cubby.

“We had this commander back in ranger school, he was a real cockbag…” Creative insult. Tanto began to remove his vest as he narrated on. You figured you’d be here for a minute so you pulled the straps of your cello case off of your shoulders placing it onto the floor, along with your duffel. Now that you were within the compound you took off the hijab, throwing it on top of the luggage. You flipped your head forward shaking out the matted hair before you pulled it into a bun. It was a mess but it did the job.

“So on our last night, me and a buddy, we stole his beret.” He placed his vest down on the table before plopping down onto the worn couch. “Whole barracks chubbed it.”

“Chubbed it?” Boon replied, his tone made you think he really didn’t want to know, whipping out his knife to fidget with.

“Yeah, rubbed our dicks on it.” Tanto replied, the widest smile crossing his face. He looked like the Cheshire cat as he reached for the gaming controller. You coughed, stifling your laugh before your face turned quizzical. He turned back towards you, noticing your reaction before giving you a quick up and down and returning to his game. You sauntered over to Jack to join in the awkwardness of being new. You tuned into Tig as he was beginning to talk work to Rone. He leaned forward over a desk that Rone was sitting at.

“Leader was a former Gitmo detainee.” They scanned the rugged laptop, you presumed that they were looking for who you’d tangoed with this morning.

“Yeah, those guys usually don’t hold a grudge.” Rone said in his usual sarcastic tone.

“Hey guys,” Oz’s voice pulled you from your concentration as you turned to face him with a friendly smile. “Mark Geist, Oz.”

“Pleasure.” Jack went to shake his hand and you followed suit.

“Ah guys I’m sorry.” Rone spun on his office chair to face the rest of the crew. “Everybody, this is Jack Silva. It’s our third contract together so he knows the drill. We met training SEALs at Coronado.”

Tanto turned back for a second. “How do you get them to balance that beach ball on their nose?” A few chuckles could be heard from the guys.

“It’s tough.” Jack’s shoulders relaxed slightly, letting himself become more comfortable around his new team.

“And this” He gestured his hand towards you. “is Y/N. She’s uhh..” He paused for a split second, trying to find the right word to describe you. “black-ops and apparently has the government at her fingertips so she’ll probably be of use.” You smirked, nodding your head towards the guys. Rone rose from his spot, spreading his arms across the room. “So we got three ex-Marines here and one ex-Army retard who likes to rub his dick on things.” Tanto stood proudly facing you two.

“Kris Paronto. Call me Tanto.” You both shook his hand. You found Tanto’s demeanor amusing, and much to your dismay, his confidence was undeniably attractive. Despite the tall crowd, he still somehow towered above them. You shared eye contact for a brief moment before turning towards Tig. Although he felt easy to get along with, you hoped his casual demeanor didn’t affect his work. In your experience, the joker usually got people killed. Despite this, what you had researched, he seemed to be doing alright so far.

“Hey. I’m Tig.” He waved towards you two.

“Tig’s been here the longest, so he’ll get you up to speed on the area,” Rone said, stabbing a red pin into a map. Looking in more detail you noticed it was the location of your incident. “This is Boon. Scout Sniper, Zen Master, Holder of Tanto’s leash.” He pointed to the man sitting in the sturdy armchair.

He looked up from his lap. “Welcome to Club Med.”

“It hasn’t rained since June. It’s not gonna rain again until September.” He walked right up to you two strolling past slowly. “You two will be double-bunked. Not me, because I’m in charge. Gym sucks,” damn “food’s actually good.” Lose, win.

Tig walked to the center of the room, a few feet from the three of you. “Base Chief is kinda a tool, but who knows, maybe now that you’re here he’ll be moderately tolerable.”

You shrugged. “No promises but if he gets too snippy I’ll whip out the phone again.”

“Maybe he just needs a new hat” Jack quipped. Tanto looked up from the TV to point appreciatively at Jack.

“Don’t encourage him,” Rone said as if talking about his puppy.

“Come on. He’s just a guy with a job to do.”Oz said. Based on the dynamic he was the dad of the group. Honest, serious, tough-love type of guy. Makes sense given he’s the sniper. “He’s playing his string out, but if you talk to him, Bob did some shit back in the day.” You’d heard it a million times, some badass joins the CIA works his way up until he’s practically just a desk jockey with a power problem. Didn’t gain him any sympathy from you.

“Alright, Jack, Y/N, this is the whiteboard that’s gonna run your life for the next sixty days.” You looked over the various points of the board as Jack made his way towards the couch. Given the limited space you preferred standing just behind, leaning your hip against the back. “I want you to check it every hour cause last-minute moves pop up every minute, such as... where shotgunning it in three hours.” Everyone in the room except you, Jack, and Rone let out an audible groan of annoyance. Tanto slapped his controller onto his lap, looking up to the ceiling. Before concentrating back on the game, he looked at you. You took this opportunity to raise an eyebrow in his direction given his childlike reaction to the news. He responded with a strong but blank stare. You rolled your eyes slightly, breaking eye contact to pay attention to Rone. You were used to being dispatched on the drop of the hat, acclimating to the schedule here probably wouldn’t be too much of a pain.

“Three hours. I’ll let you know when I’m briefed.”

#Tanto x Reader #Tanto/Reader #Tanto x Y/N #13 hours #pablo schreiber #Kris Paronto #Kris Paronto x Reader #Kris Paronto/Reader

61 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck��s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

-----------------------------------------

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

------------------------------------------

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

---------------------------------------------

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #trans duck newton #reader request #meet ugly #boxer au

21 notes · View notes