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celestiamour · 2 days ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ we're doing better ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ your husband has finally been honest with you, but what now?┊3.0k words; prt one (here)

contains: his pov, lots of perspective and lore, love at first sight, happy ending where the reader forgives him, note that sociopathic/psychopathic behavior has no known cure & that this is unrealistic fiction, he can’t be fixed but he can be here <3

➤ author's note: the long-awaited & heavily-requested part two!! the ending is sucky because i didn’t plan to write a part two and because i personally wouldn’t have forgiven him, but lots of you guys seemed to want to. i wanted to write something exploring their relationship, so i hope this is received well & that you guys will enjoy!

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning” were the last words you said to him before rushing out the door and disappearing to your mother’s house. that was last night, but it was now early evening with the sun finishing its descent over the horizon and you were nowhere to be seen. he briefly wondered if you were also watching it from wherever you were like he was through the window, knowing that you adored the beautiful array of colors blending into each other and always pointed it out when you were with him. he never cared for it himself and took the sight for granted until you came along. now he’s aching for your presence asking him if he thought it was pretty when you were always the prettiest sight in his eyes with the orange light reflecting on you.

his hand was itching to call you or send a text, but he decided against it. you needed your space, especially after that fateful conversation which left him with regret weighing heavy on his chest. he wasn’t sure what the regret stemmed from, if it was regret from not trying harder to keep his secret, if it was from not being more careful to hide his tracks from seong gi-hun, if it was from attempting to build a normal life, or if it was leading the type of life had in the first place. it was a mix of everything, and he hated the feeling of it.

gong ji-cheol never regretted anything in his life. he didn’t regret spending his days getting a sadistic kick out of playing judge and jury to people he viewed as worthless trash when they lost against him, whether it was slapping people he was recruiting into games they would inevitably die in or spending his free time messing around with homeless people. he didn’t regret getting tangled up with the mysterious oh il-nam and the activities occurring on that island, starting as a guard and working his way up to a salesman. he didn’t regret firing a gun on his own father in cold blood when he unknowingly begged his own flesh and blood to spare him.

he’s a man who was steadfast and stubborn when it came to his fucked-up morals and ideals, always believing from a young age that it made him better than others. there was never a reason for him to change as he got older when he found himself working for a hidden organization that introduced him to the addicting taste of death, paid well, and protected him from the law if the unlikely situation of getting caught by authorities for his crimes ever happened. he never cared to do the right thing was doing wrong was just so much more suited to him, never minding the strict set of rules he had to adhere to as long as he was allowed to freely exercise his psychopathic tendencies without trouble following him. it made him feel like a god at times who was so high above normal people if he ignored that he was still an employee with a boss.

and now he’s sitting in the living room, disheveled and staring at the floor waiting for your return like a dog awaiting its master.

he couldn’t even be mad at you for storming out like that. he’s surprised about how mellow your reaction was to learning the truth of his occupation and how dirty the cash he used to spoil you was, how you didn’t scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and how you didn’t call the police— or maybe you had already called them at some point today and his friends in higher places were working to keep him safe. more than anything, he misses you, filled with a feeling of longing he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

at first, he was only trying to look normal. the people around him started to wonder why a man as tall and handsome as he with money that flowed in like water from an unknown source he kept secret was still single. when people wonder, they start to become nosy. he couldn’t have that if he wanted to keep up the lifestyle he had, so he started searching for someone suited to be his wife.

to others, he seemed incredibly picky, never reaching out for a second date even once or even bothering to send a polite text saying he didn’t feel a connection. to him, he didn’t think he was picky enough. despite carefully combing through his options and sometimes even hiring private investigators to stalk them if needed, there was always something he missed which was a dealbreaker for him in a relationship: ignorance and stupidity, improper table manners when he reserved at a fine restaurant, running more than fifteen minutes late without traffic in the way, and most importantly for him, asking too many prying personal questions which weren’t relevant on the first date. yes, he understands that first dates are all about getting to know each other, no, he doesn’t find it necessary to talk about stupid things. although he would rather not say anything at all, he’s very particular about how quickly he shares information about himself with others and gets ticked off by anyone who tries too hard to learn more about it (he won’t admit it, but he also gets a bit threatened by it).

by the time the day his first date with you rolled around, he was ready for it to be his last before he lived out his life alone as originally planned. he lost his faith that he would find someone who lived up to his lofty expectations and received news that oh il-nam was dead. the next games were canceled to mourn the loss of the founder, and part of ji-cheol wondered if he should cancel the date as well to take the time to pay his respects. he didn’t think you would be the one and believed there wouldn’t be any difference whether or not he actually showed up.

yet there was something in him that refused to pick up the phone and make up an excuse. it was indescribable like a higher power making sure that he followed the path intended for him. he told himself it was nothing but not wanting to be rude when it was only half an hour before the arranged time and because he didn’t want to pay the cancellation fee, nothing more nothing less. he never cared before if he was thought of as rude to people he didn’t intend to keep in his life for long, and he had enough money to buy the entire place if he wanted to.

so what was his problem all of a sudden?

you showed up perfectly on time, a few seconds before the clock struck, looking beautiful. it’s not a word he uses often. pretty, maybe, but not beautiful, yet it was the first word that crossed his mind when you introduced yourself. he found himself enamored by your presence and everything about it from how you carried yourself to the subtle glitter eyeshadow that made your eyes sparkle to the dainty jewelry hanging around your neck, so enamored that he forgot to accept your outstretched hand and to get up to pull out your seat for you at first.

more than easy on the eyes, dressed appropriately, good table manners, well-educated, never pressing too hard on matters he clearly didn’t want to talk about, you were quickly checking off everything on his list as his partner— although what he was really looking for was to draw away suspicions and your likable personality made you perfect for the job, he could even see you as a companion. even if you were visibly nervous, he didn’t mind, your timidness was adorable actually, akin to a little bunny being fed by his hand.

when he finally got home, he realized he was still smiling when he’s usually constantly reminding himself to do so. he also realized that he lost track of time and came back a whopping two hours later than he expected.

it was history from there, gong ji-cheol, a man who saw other humans as unequal trash, had succumbed to love at first sight, which baffled him.

it made him remember a scene from his childhood, one where he asked his mother why she remained married to his deadbeat father after another night of him not showing up in favor of gambling and drinking instead of spending it with his own family. she embraced him with tears, once again reminding him of her own tale of love at first sight, and also telling him that when you’re so deep in love like she was, you’re willing to forgive them for anything.

he thought she was stupid for that. now he knows he’s truly just like his mother just like everyone said.

you were shy in the first steps of the relationship, quickly realizing that you had become a glorified sugar baby of sorts. he didn’t know how to express his affection through words nor did he have the extra time to spend with you during that time of the year, so he spoiled you with lavish gifts and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. any debts you might have were paid off, one of the nicest condos in korea was bought for you to move in together, your parent's retirement was paid off in full to allow them to stop working, and any other money-related issues were quickly covered by him. you could even quit your job if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to become too dependent on him and wouldn’t know what to do with all the extra time in your day.

it soon became clear there was a boundary not to be crossed, which was not to dig too much into his personal life. if he gave you a curt, general answer to your question, you were not to say anything more about the matter. no one you spoke to about this thought this was too strange, even when you were preparing to get married, because what was there to worry your pretty head about? you love him and he loves you, he was treating you better than a queen, and his wealth spread into your circle of people you cared about with friends getting luxury perfumes and parents getting first-class tickets to wherever they wanted. in a way, they didn’t want to ask any more questions if it meant angering him and possibly not having these things anymore.

you never liked it, but he never cared about it. they were just trivial things and he was perfectly fine with sharing what he had, or at least, that’s what he told you. it was mainly to ensure he was well-liked among them and no one would ever try to come between you.

the only people who ever did were a few snakes parading as your friends trying to steal him away from you, trying to seduce him, and getting too close for his comfort. you were too sweet to notice and always forgave it if you did, but he noticed their lingering eyes and was disgusted. it was the one time he allowed his mask to slip, calling them out for being human garbage with a polite smile on his face as they gasped in shock. if they tried to cry to you about how awful he was to them, he simply told you the truth and encouraged you to cut them off which you always did.

the garden he carefully cultivated of a normal domestic life was flourishing. you were so captivated by the colorful flowers he planted and the butterflies pollinating them that you didn’t notice how dirty his gloved hands were when ripping out anything that didn’t belong like weeds trying to sprout through the soil. he was always sure to take them off and discard them afterward, never daring to touch you with the sins of his life outside of you.

then you fell pregnant after months of trying, and while he was overjoyed at first with renovations in mind to turn one of the extra rooms into a nursery, there was an unease in him wondering if the child would turn out like him: a remorseless psychopath who would one day kill his own father as he did his. he would later by a few books about parenting, hoping that he could prevent that type of future.

time flew by and he hadn’t killed anyone in a while although he was still complicit in hundreds of deaths a year. his violent urges slowly calmed and his hand was only raised during ddakji matches, but even then, they were more gentle than before (which meant that they still stung and made their face swell up, but it was an improvement when in the past, he would sometimes hit them so hard that they could taste blood on their tongue).

the effects of being a husband and soon-to-be father were changing who he was at his very core, but it didn’t change everything he’s already done.

he was stupid to think he could have such a picture-perfect life with the woman he loved after everything. for someone who meticulously plans out things down to each syllable of the words he spoke, he didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do once he was found out.

the law couldn’t touch him, but he didn’t care about the law, he cared about you and your unborn child.

he ran his hand through his messy dark locks, sighing in frustration trying to think of a solution as he dug around the kitchen until he fished out an entire bottle of wine. he could manipulate himself out of this situation as he had done countless times before, he’s a snake with a forked silver tongue who could easily get his way just by flickering it, but the thought of lying to you again broke his once unfeeling heart. it would never be the same way again with your relationship tainted with distrust. the truth would have to come out eventually.

oh god, but what would he do without you?

before he could begin to spiral for the fourth time that day about what would happen if you left him, the familiar sound of a keypad being pressed and the front door being unlocked. he froze in place, not expecting you to come back at that very moment— but he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. he wasn’t sure of anything, simply staring at you when you caught him hunched over the counter drinking straight from a bottle of wine and looking like a child whose mom just caught him sneaking a snack at two in the morning.

“oh god, i leave for a day and you’re already a wreck, what happened to the ji-cheol who’s always put together even when it’s raining?” you approached him casually, reaching up to mess around with his hair until he looked more like his usual self. there was an air of awkwardness you tried to hide and was successful for the most part, but he could read you easier than a book. you were nervous around him now, acting with slight fear and carefulness like you were inching around a predator, and even flinched when he hugged you to feel your presence and breathe in your scent.

you hugged him back after a moment, looking up at him with your voice shaking, “if it’s really… that… then i understand it would be dangerous for you to tell me, so i won’t ask any more questions… i don’t… i don’t want to leave you and leave our child fatherless…”

if you were any other person in the world, he would have smirked at the fact that he didn’t need to bother trying to manipulate you into staying with him. he would have relished his control over you and how you came back in the end, free to continue killing and asking people to play a game with him to satisfy his sadistic desires.

but you weren’t any other person in the world, you were his wife.

“you really forgive me? after knowing all that?”

“i guess love really does let you look past everything no matter how bad… at least you didn’t cheat on me as my friends suggested, that would be the real unforgivable offense…”

the topic of his occupation never came up again, but he made the choice to resign on account of it no longer fitting with his current lifestyle. the current frontman, who was an old friend of his, looked upon him fondly for his loyalty, thanked him for his service, and was even kind enough to use his connections to find him a new place to work. it was boring by his standards, but it paid well and wasn’t illegal, so he persevered. he now has plenty of things to tell you about his workplace, from the annoying co-worker who keeps showing him the most random unfunny things on the internet to how the coffee shop downstairs wasn’t half bad. mundane things that made you grin when he told you about his day, which was all that mattered to him.

you soon gave birth to a healthy baby girl with his eyes and your smile. the world became a lot brighter, even with all the sleepless nights of her crying and learning how to change diapers. she was a little joy born out of his love for you.

finally, you’re both doing better, and he no longer has to hide himself away from you.

tag list!! @tric0rd / @solatiiium / @iloveragdollcats / @sugaremedy / @pear-1206 / @orangutanjazz / @boowiththegoo / @knoepfl / @miaasmf / @queenjang21 / @larissa-slays69 / @munch3025 / @qrstarz / @capital-koreasofia / @swiftieee4lifeee / @liliylikescats / @maryyyswift / @vaenys2 / @bane-y-zane / @dynaloy / @chunkzdeluluwife / @everyonelovestay / @tomhollandtoothbrush

there will not be a part three, thank you for reading!!

#📜. her works #the salesman #the salesman x reader #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #squid game #squid game x reader

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eowynstwin · 1 day ago

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peristalsis - ii.

selkie!soap x reader. depression. suicidal ideation. strangers to "lovers." . Running away from life to the Scottish Hebrides, you meet a man who won't leave you alone. . Masterlist. Ao3.

You sleep long enough that, when you wake up, you have enough energy to cry.

It’s a big one. The kind of cry that threatens to turn your throat out, with how hard you sob. Alone in the cottage, far away from anything resembling civilization, you wail like wounded animal, choking on your own tears and mucus, losing track of your body buried underneath the covers—

But it happens at a remove. You watch yourself implode from someplace deep inside, not entirely sure why it’s happening at all—but long past trying to figure it out.

This is how it’s been for a while. There’s nothing special about it anymore. Nothing urgent. Most of the time, you are a blank space of a person, a vacuum where joy or rage or fear should be, but occasionally some maelstrom or another kicks up to fill it in, and your only course of action is to ride it out until it ends.

You’ve stopped trying to fix it. And you’ve stopped hoping anyone else can, either.

So you cry, until at last, you’re empty again. Or you’re too tired to continue. The difference is negligible, but functionally irrelevant. Once it’s done, you get out of bed.

The pressure in the shower is as weak as Johnny reported, but the water is indeed warm when you turn it on; you stand naked under the flow, arms hanging at your sides.

The day stretches itself out before you with nothing to occupying it, just as you’d planned. Nothing to work towards; no effort to put forward. Nothing, thanks to your choice of locale, to feel guilty about not seeking out.

A day of peace and utter quiet.

Suddenly—violent banging, somewhere in the cottage. It startles you; you jump so sharply at the noise that you smack your wrist on the soap caddy attached to the shower wall. The banging comes again—annoyed, you realize with no little bemusement that someone is at the front door.

You wrap yourself in a towel and hobble out of the bathroom to answer it, a piece of your mind on your tongue, dart-shaped and ready to fly—

Of course it’s Johnny.

Johnny, big and burly in a sweater, kilt, and pelt once again, two paper cups balanced in one large hand and a grocery bag hanging from the other. Whose dark brows shoot up his forehead as his eyes travel with surprise, and blatant appreciation, down the dripping length your body.

“Well, good mornin’, bonnie,” he purrs.

“What,” you grunt. A cold breath of wind chooses that moment to force its way through the door, gasping across the shower water still running in rivulets from your hair to the rolled edge of your towel. Goosebumps erupt from your bare skin in millions of simultaneous pinpricks—you flinch bodily at the chill.

“Ah, hell’s bells, don’t just stand there,” Johnny says, following the wind. “It’s freezin,’ go on, let me get in, hurry.”

You let him step inside, for some reason, and he shuts the door behind him with the heel of his boot. He wastes no time after that, heading to the kitchen to set down his things.

“Brought breakfast!” he says cheerfully. “There’s this bakery on Barra I thought you’d like, fresh doughnuts and coffee. Dunno how you take yours, but there’s sugar in the pantry and cream in the fridge.”

“I don’t want breakfast,” you say.

“What? ‘Course you do. I’m no’ takin’ you seal-watchin’ on an empty stomach.”

He starts unpacking the grocery bag and setting things on the counter while your jaw hangs open. Several things occur to you to say—I never agreed to that and what the hell is wrong with you, for starters—but your stomach growls at him before you can. The aroma of fresh-baked pastry wafts through the kitchen when he opens one box, and he turns to grin at you, cheeks dimpling.

“Do you get dressed, bonnie,” he says. “It’ll still be here when y’get back.”

It is less polite than he perhaps intends it to be, given that his gaze travels appreciatively across your bare shoulders. You cross your arms fruitlessly over your chest and, nothing else for it, retreat to the bedroom, feeling his eyes on you the whole way.

You return to the kitchen after having pulled on wool leggings and the same fleecy sweater from the day before. Johnny, one hip set against the counter, has a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a half-eaten cruller in the other, crumbs at the corner of his mouth.

“Got anythin’ heavier?” he asks around a chewed-up mouthful. “Gets cold out there.”

You look down at his bare calves, broad and taut and covered in a down of dark hair. “You seem alright.”

“I’m used to it,” he says, shrugging—the muscles flexing under your gaze.

You purse your lips. “I don’t have anything.” You hadn’t intended to leave the cottage overmuch.

You approach the counter. Johnny does not move a centimeter, forcing you to stand close as you pick through the two boxes of doughnuts and feel the body heat radiating off of him, displacing the scent of fried dough with his musk.

“That’s all right,” he says. You’re close enough to hear the way his voice hums deep in his chest. “I can keep you warm.”

You snatch a plain glazed from the box and take two very large steps away from him. The hair on the back of your neck lifts as you press against the sink behind you. If he notices your reaction, it doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest—he lifts the cup to his lips and drinks, eyes sliding closed with simple, obvious pleasure, dark lashes curling against his cheek.

You take the brief respite from his gaze to stare at him. In the morning light, on a full night of sleep, you can almost believe that whatever you’d seen in him yesterday had been nothing more than a misfire of exhausted synapses. An overlay of a dream; a circadian prompt to rectify nearly seventeen hours of sleeplessness. You’d been cold, and tired, and hungry. That was all.

You bite down on your doughnut, not really tasting it. The nerves along your spine twitch and contract around the memory of his flashing gaze.

His eyes open again, and he smiles at you. “Good?” He flicks a look at the single bite you’ve taken, looks at your mouth, and then waits for your reply.

“It’s fine,” you grumble. Then, “How did you get here? I didn’t hear the truck drive up. Do you live close by?”

“Sometimes,” he says. He looks pleased that you’ve asked, that you’re interested at all, and you immediately regret inquiring. “Live on a boat, me. Moored in the cove right now.”

“A…boat,” you say.

“Aye.” A wisp of dark hair, something he must have missed when he gelled his mohawk this morning, flutters as he nods. “Nice and cozy. Not as grand as all this, mind.” He gestures around with coffee and doughnut at the less than five hundred square feet of the cottage. “But it’s still a sight nicer than some other places I’ve slept.”

He’s likely hinting at his military service. “Okay,” is all you say, unwilling to entertain it.

He smirk—undeterred. “We’ll take her out once you’re ready.”

“I never said I was going.”

Dark brows lift. “Got somethin’ else planned for today?” he asks, incredulous, as if he never imagined you wouldn’t want to hang out with him.

“No, I—”

You wrack your brain. You have no intention of explaining to this complete stranger that the last thing you’d wanted to do, when you booked this trip, was really anything at all—and in fact, you hadn’t even considered that that might be something anyone else would care much about.

Much less proactively address.

“No,” you repeat, sulking.

Johnny considers you, chewing. His eyes do not stray, this time, to places they don’t belong; but there’s an insight to them. A sharp awareness. A perception in his gaze that is just as undressing, as if whatever is going on with you is visible to the naked eye.

“I figure,” he says, slowly, as if to coax, “you put your wee shoes on, an’ I’ll pack this back up, and we take it along.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you grouse. “I don’t need you to, like—be my tour guide.”

“Aye, but that doesnae mean I don’t wanna,” he retorts, smiling.

He shoves the last bite of cruller in his mouth and gazes patiently at you as he works it with his jaw, the muscles flexing along his temples as he chews.

Exhaustion, your constant companion, stares you down alongside him. It would take so much more energy to fight him than to go along with whatever he has planned. Energy you just don’t have anymore. And going along doesn’t mean you have to pretend to enjoy yourself—it’s not like you care enough about Johnny’s self-esteem to conjure up a happy face to show him.

You can go, and be a bitch about it, and once you do maybe he’ll realize you’re not at all worth the effort he’s making, and then finally leave you alone.

“Fine,” you say, which is how you end up on a fishing trawler headed south toward, ostensibly, a colony of breeding seals.

It’s an old vessel—that much is obvious. Its edges and corners are dull with the passage of time and constant maintenance, scuffed by innumerable passes-over with cleaner and cloth. Mildew competes with the aroma of fresh varnish as Johnny leads you onto the bridge, which is mercifully closed in from the ocean wind.

The interior is mostly wood of a warm, orangish variety—you can’t tell if that’s a decision made with aesthetics or function in mind. The space comprises a kitchen, surprisingly well-appointed with a stove, sink, countertop, and fridge, and a small sitting area with both couch and booth seating. Surrounding windows allow in the grey light of the morning.

“Bought it off an old bloke on Lewis,” Johnny says, taking his place at the wheel, which is in a little alcove off the kitchen.

If you’d thought steering a boat would have curtailed his chatting, you’d have been wrong—he seems to have no trouble with that and talking, incessantly, at the same time, as he pulls the vessel away from the cove and into the open water.

“All his family moved to the mainland, he told me, an’ this is after generations fishin’ these islands, even makin’ it through the Clearances! No money in it anymore, he said, not like you could make in some office somewhere countin’ someone else’s money.” He checks something on the dashboard in front of him, but it doesn’t distract him for long. “Held on for a while, but people just kept leavin,’ an’ he was gettin’ too old to go out on his own. Got such a good price on it, I think he was just happy someone else was gonna take up the tradition.”

“Did he sell you the cottage too?” you ask, and then dig your nails into your wrist for encouraging him.

“Yup,” he says. “No one else wanted it, but me? I saw somethin’ special about it.”

He turns to smile at you—no doubt pleased you made the connection. You avert your gaze.

“Imagine someday I’ll have my own family here,” he continues. “Good place for it. Nice and slow, not like city living. Can hear yourself think out here. Perfect place to have a few wee ones.”

“If people stop leaving,” you mutter.

He turns to you again. “I’m no’ worried about that,” he replies. He’s still smiling. “You came here, after all.”

You have nothing to say to that.

The trip is a short one—Johnny brings the trawler alongside an island he informs you is called Mingulay, a square mile smaller than Vatersay’s tiny dot in the North Atlantic. Unlike the latter, he says, this island has not been inhabited since 1912, and has been completely reclaimed by the ocean and its wildlife.

After he drops anchor offshore, Johnny disappears down a steep flight of stairs below deck, which he had not offered a tour of, and emerges a short time later with a large, bulky coat.

“Didn’t I tell you?” he says proudly, holding it out by the shoulders. “Here, turn ‘round.”

You pause in the middle of reaching for it. You don’t know exactly why you comply—it occurs to you that if you grabbed for the jacket, he could simply not let go of it, and you would end up exactly where he wants you anyway. So you lower your arm and, resigned, give him your back.

He steps up behind you. Warmth pours off of him, more than you think any human body should be able to generate.

You hear him inhale, deeply, as he brings the jacket to your back. As you slide your arms into the sleeves, you feel his exhale on the nape of your neck, teasing through individual follicles of hair.

“There w’go,” he murmurs, much closer than you expected.

You can hear the low hum of his voice in his chest; his hands linger on your shoulders far longer than they need to, heavy, big enough that his index fingers brush along your collarbones.

When his hands make to slide down your back you step away from him and fumble to zip the jacket up; he chuckles lightly behind you. When you turn to face him, his lips are curled—smug.

“Alright then,” he says. “Let’s get out there.”

He rows the two of you to shore in a small kayak, two pairs of binoculars in your lap as you huddle away from the wind. You’ll be walking to the haul-out, he says—getting too close to the breeding grounds, which he calls a rookery, would spook them, possibly causing a stampede.

“It’s grey seals we’re gonna see,” he explains as the two of you pick your way across the rocky landscape. “Not the biggest haul-out you could see, some colonies get into the thousands, but we’ll have it all to ourselves.”

He insists on taking your elbow every time the two of you cross particularly uneven terrain, even though you don’t need it. You think he takes your attempts to shake him off as proof of your lack of balance, because he grasps you all the tighter every time.

“I’m not a child, Johnny, I can walk on my own,” you finally snap at him.

“Just bein’ a gentleman, bonnie,” he replies nonchalantly. He does not let you go.

As you get closer, you hear the seals before you see them, and when their voices reach you across the open island, you stop dead.

Groaning, grunting, hissing in a cacophonous chorus. Some part of your hindbrain double-takes, reshuffles itself—some ancestral instinct always on the lookout for predation. If you’d been given a chance to guess what a colony of mating seals might have sounded like, you’re not sure you could have guessed what they sounded like.

Certainly not like what you hear now—

Like people.

Johnny grins at you when he notices. “Aye, it’s a right ruckus, innit?”

He leads you up a small rise, where he has the two of you settle belly-down over the machair to overlook the wedge of rocky coast that the colony has claimed for its own.

And when you finally see it—it’s underwhelming.

Perhaps two hundred long, fat bodies, in varying shades of brown and grey, lay indolently along the rocks, in groups of three or four, some heavily galumphing from one place to another while others roll occasionally from side to side. The shifting winds catch their scent and blow it uncaringly into your face; you nearly gag at the admixture of dead fish and ammonia.

It doesn’t escape you that this is a rare thing to witness; you are not wholly immune to the fact that you are only a hundred meters away from something most people only encounter on a screen. It’s just that without a swell of awed music in the backdrop, or a narrator’s breathless wonder at the miracle of pinniped life, what’s left for you to observe is a population of wet, stinking animals, shitting where they lay, vocalizing without cease while they laze about doing basically nothing.

Johnny does not seem to notice your disillusionment; he hands you one pair of binoculars, and directs your attention to activity along the shoreline. You follow to where he’s pointing; one larger seal is hassling a smaller one, which snarls at the aggressor as it thrashes around with its substantial bulk.

“Little one there—” Johnny says, “that’s a female, probably obvious. Big one knows she’s ready to mate, can smell it on her.”

The female bares her teeth and lunges at the bigger male, which flinches back but holds his ground.

“Doesn’t look like she agrees,” you mutter.

“She’s just givin’ him a hard time. She’s all in heat, see? Just makes her cranky,” Johnny says. You feel his eyes on you, and lower your binoculars to look at him. “She’s got to fuss to feel all in control.”

You flush. “Right.”

“You don’t think so?”

“No,” you say. “He’s—he’s just bothering her.”

He gazes at you for a moment, contemplative. Corners of his mouth quirking upward. He does not reply for a long moment, long enough that you have to avert your gaze from his.

“Nah,” he finally says, and you don’t think you’re imagining the low, sultry note in his voice. “She wants it bad as he does.”

You scowl, uncomfortably perceived, and return your binoculars—the pair is still facing off, gurgling and growling at each other. The female is slim, almost sleek, unlike most of the other seals populating the rookery.

“Is she sick?” you ask.

“Hm? Oh, no, she’s alright. The mums lose a lot of weight when they nurse. Takes three weeks, and they don’t eat in the meantime.”

“Jesus.”

“Be nice if the dads ever brought ‘em a bite, aye?” Johnny agrees. “Deadbeats, the lot of them.”

The two of you survey the colony in silence for a moment. As the morning wears on, the cloud covering thins overhead, allowing cool sunlight to filter through. The temperature doesn’t rise in response; begrudgingly, you tug Johnny’s jacket a little tighter around you.

Then, suddenly, his hand lands on your back, between your shoulder blades.

“Got some pups over there,” he says. “Look, by the kelp.”

You find them; smaller bodies, white dinged with wet sand and dirt, lounge near their mothers or wriggle with aimless difficulty. They’re fluffy and round as plush toys, with shining black eyes and noses, and once Johnny’s pointed them out you can differentiate the higher, sweeter pitch of their cries from the overall cacophony.

“Sometimes,” Johnny murmurs, “search and rescue’ll get called out because someone thought they heard a baby crying. Some kid stranded or lost, right? Turns out to be a baby seal.”

“That’s kind of scary,” you say.

“Aye,” says Johnny. “Always makes me think that’s where the old legends come from, about seal people or mermaids.”

A small ways away, some of the mothers lay with their pups far into the surf, letting the waves break over them. You watch as one mother thunks her large head overtop of her pup’s as the water rushes toward them; the pup wriggles, and then, as the wave engulfs them, it begins to thrash, whipping up a panicked froth.

“Time for swimming lessons already?” Johnny muses. “Seems early.”

You’re horrified. “She’s going to drown it!”

The hand still on your back pats you consolingly. “Just watch,” says Johnny.

The wave reaches as far up the shore as gravity allows, and then begins to recede. The pup’s thrashing calms as the air meets its face once again; the cow allows the pup to lift its head, and after a few sputters, the pup seems no worse for wear.

“They’re hardier than they look, bonnie,” Johnny says.

His hand, heavy and warm even over his borrowed jacket, slides down from your shoulders to your lower back, and then he rubs, slowly, side to side, as if to comfort you—but the knobs of your spine contract at his touch.

“Last of the births this season, looks like,” he says. “Mum’s getting ready to leave—probably not the only one.”

Something hard drops into your stomach.

“They leave their babies?” you ask.

“Aye. Once they’re done nursing, they mate, and then they go.”

You look back at the other cows with their pups. One baby has its muzzle to its mother’s belly, quivering and suckling, while she lays with her head on a patch of grass. She looks uninterested—more, she looks disinterested. As if how voraciously her pup is nursing has nothing much to do with her, and she’s bored of even having to think about it.

Bored—and already looking forward to the next part of her life without a baby in it.

“That’s horrible,” you say.

“They’re solitary animals, bonnie,” Johnny says, not ungently. “The only time they’re really all together is for this.”

A line tightens between your stomach and throat, and you feel it start to build between your ribs. A tremor—foreshocks. The wind picks up, bringing a sharp chill off the ocean and up the rise that cuts into your stinging eyes, abrades the naked skin of your hands and the exposed part of your neck.

When you look through your binoculars again, you wonder how many of the pups you see have already been abandoned.

“Aw, bonnie,” Johnny says. There’s a kind of pity in his voice that has your hackles raising.

“I want to leave,” you say, yanking away from his touch and shuffling down the incline. “Take me back to the cottage.”

“Bonnie, it’s okay!” Johnny protests, rolling to his back to look at you as you stand. “The pups make it, they figure out how to fend for themselves.”

You glare at him, vision blurring. “All of them?”

Some part of you knows you’re being irrational—knows that nature is a cruel home, and that many children face worse fates than the seal pups. Abandoning the young, the needy, is no aberration; it is, in fact, far more the standard than the human practice, which lingers for decades—

Most of the time.

Johnny has no response. He holds your angry gaze, brows drawn low, mouth pressed into a thin line. It’s the first time that cocky aura, which seems to rest in every fine line on his face and every angle at which he holds his body, is completely absent.

He isn’t reflecting your anger back at you, though—he’s internalizing it. Letting it hit him, you think, and trying to use it to figure you out.

You do not want to be figured out.

You scoff again. “Take me back,” you repeat, and then you start walking in the direction you came, without waiting for him to follow.

Johnny drops you off in the cove, and thankfully does not linger this time before he departs—he bids you farewell after rowing you to shore, contemplation on his face, and then leaves you to yourself.

You retreat, seeking the cottage’s empty quiet.

As you perch on the couch you listen to the radiator hum—the wind blow over the reeds in the thatch roof—your own heart beating a drum in the arteries of your neck.

Percussive. Quick and hard. Like heavy knockers on a door. Pounding as if to burst through.

You realize you’re still wearing Johnny’s jacket, and you throw it off, disgusted with yourself. You get up and pace, and try to ignore it lying in a heap on the floor.

You do something you swore you wouldn’t do the moment you set foot on the island—you turn your phone back on.

True to Johnny’s word, there’s no signal. You picked this island, this part of the world, for a reason; for the past several years, a slow exodus from the British isles has vacated the need for dedicated cell towers or satellite or internet access, especially given that the only ones who remain are too old now to want it or need it or know how to use it.

It’s isolated. Cut off. Left behind by anyone with better options, and only clung to by those trying to preserve the only way of life they know.

Some kinder part of you belongs with that demographic; the part that was telling your mother the truth, before getting on the plane.

The rest of you holds your phone up and starts walking around.

In the furthest corner in the bedroom, you find a single bar of signal. A tiny chip of connectivity—a thin, frayed thread. Something you lied to yourself about cutting.

It’s a weak connection. Unstable. It could take a while—you stand there, waiting.

The screen dims. You tap it again.

Blank.

You unlock it, look through your apps. Wonder if maybe your notifications are bugged by your new SIM card.

Nothing—

No one.

You whip around and, with a cry, pitch the thing at the far wall—it hits the stone with a crunch, falling to the floor in pieces.

You’re out of the cottage then in a mad dash, door slamming behind you, driving yourself back into the wind. Far away—you want to be far away, far from everything, so far that nothing could possibly reach you. You trudge down the path toward the beach, banding your arms across your chest, shivering in the cold, and yet you hardly feel it.

Not worth it. No point. Waste of your time. Energy. All of it. Stop trying. Stop wanting. Nothing. Nothing. You want nothing.

You’re halfway down to the shore, not really knowing what you’re going to do when you get there, when you catch sight of a body on the sand.

You gasp, a sharp breath down your larynx, and freeze in a dead halt.

The body is completely still.

A swimmer? A diver? It’s dark, like it just pulled itself out of the ocean—or washed up—

Then, it moves. A twitch, a ripple across its bulk, and your chest rapidly decompresses.

A seal. It’s a large seal, lounging alone on the beach.

You stand motionless. You’re very close—much closer than you and Johnny had been at the rookery. You hadn’t contended with the sheer size of the animals, tucked safely up and away from them, but there is no illusion of distance now.

It’s the biggest one you’ve seen today, you’re sure of it. Bigger, you think, than most adult men. Its pelt is a riot of every shade of grey, splashy, like liquid paint thrown across a canvas. Black speckles scatter overtop of marbled white and cool slate, and down the center of its back is a broad, dark line, soft at the edges, which reaches all the way up to the top of the seal’s head.

The bull—it must be male—turns over. It lifts its head, and opens its eyes—

Fear suddenly zips up your spine as it looks right at you.

You stumble backward and trip on your own feet, landing hard on your ass. Johnny’s care with keeping enough distance from the colony rushes back to you, along with the warring couple’s bared teeth.

They can’t move that fast on land, right? They aren’t interested in people, right?

You scramble backward. It’s so much bigger than you ever would have imagined. If it got to you—threw itself over you—it could crush you with its weight alone—

The bull watches you placidly. Unperturbed.

You pause.

Its small eyes are dark and glossy—watchful and focused. The whiskers on its muzzle twitch a little as it takes you in. It breathes, deeply and evenly, huge body expanding and contracting at a slow, calm tempo. Its—his—nostrils flex, widening and narrowing, as he blinks docilely.

Unafraid.

If anything—curious.

Then he snorts, and wriggles in place. It startles a laugh out of you, more reaction than humor. Still watching you, the bull lowers his head back down, resting it again on the sand.

Your heartbeat abates. He doesn’t move again—nor does his attention leave you. Slowly, you sit up.

Wary. No sudden movements.

He doesn’t react; only continues to watch you.

You draw your knees up. Wrap your arms around your shins, and dust a bit of sand from your leggings. Rest your chin in the crevice between your knees.

There’s an intelligence in the bull’s eyes that is fathoms deep. There is a massive gulf between his experience of the world and yours, millennia of evolution separating your species from his—and yet…as you hold his gaze, you recognize the look in it.

Him, seeing you. And seeing you see him. The pendulum swinging between awareness of each other, and recognition of that shared awareness.

An empty space in the cloud cover passes overhead; sunlight touches the earth, warms it briefly before disappearing again. You wonder a little why this bull isn’t with the other seals.

Johnny would probably know.

“I didn’t come for you, you know,” you grumble at him.

The seal blinks. Awareness notwithstanding, you don’t share any language.

You sigh. “I guess you didn’t come to see me either,” you say.

But you don’t move away.

And you stay like that for a long while, you and he—regarding each other as the wind breathes out across the shore.

next chapter early access

a/n: follow for more seal facts™

Also huge thanks to Lev for trawler listings/info. Didn't explore it much this chapter but Soap's boat will show up more soon :)

#soap x reader #soap x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish x reader #soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #mwritessoap #madi writes #am i happy with the photos i used? no #am i going to make an effort to change them? also no #does that image of a whirlpool look terribly erotic? oh yes #selkie soap #peristalsis

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buckysfaveplum · 2 days ago

Text

her weakness

summary: you’re an enhanced individual with strong abilities and one moral code- you only fight with them when your opponent is also enhanced. during the fight with john walker, that code gets broken when bucky is hurt

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: violence, blood, fighting, it’s a fight seen so yea expect things relating to that

a/n: i rewatched tfatws and this fight always makes me so worried for my bbs so yea this was born. I typed it up helllllla quick so I'm sorry if its trash, I'm not too proud of this one idk.

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Your feet followed closely behind Bucky as you approached the warehouse. Your limbs were stiff and your skin clammy. Your hand stayed firmly in Bucky’s grasp as you approached John Walker. Sam had tracked him to a storage warehouse near the square you had just witnessed brutality in.

He murdered him, in cold blood, with Steve’s shield. You couldn’t get the screams of the public out of your head, the sound of the vibranium as it slashed into the flagsmasher’s body. You would’ve thrown up if Bucky hadn’t pushed you behind him. You had seen much worse, much more gruesome violence in your line of work. But something about this was sickening, rotting away in your stomach as you tried to grapple with the truth that the shield your friend once carried with honor and pride was just used by an unhinged soldier who found joy in the worst parts of the job.

Bucky stayed ahead of you, following Sam as they entered the building. Your hand trembled in his vibranium grasp. His thumb gently brushed across the veins and bones of your hand, trying to bring you comfort before the scene he knew was about to play out.

As you walked into the large space, you saw him. He was too composed and stoic for what had just taken place. His tall and slender figure loomed as he casually walked up to you all, barely acknowledging Sam as he tried to get him to listen.

“Walker,” Sam started. The soldier brushed Sam’s stern tone off, hopefully delaying what he knew was coming.

“You guys should see a medic, you don’t look so good,” He said, walking past you.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam took a few steps closer, trying again to get him to focus.

Your jaw tightened as you watched the man pace erratically in front of you. He was muttering quietly before responding as if trying to convince himself what he was saying had any truth.

“What?” He asked, coming closer. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do.”

Your grip on Bucky tightened, sensing Walker’s anger began to boil over. You knew a fight was coming, it always was.

“I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!” Walker shouted, his arms waving now and revealing how off the deep end he had gone.

You knew the moment you saw him in that fight. He stole the serum and took it for himself. This behavior just confirmed it. But the serum only enhanced what was already bubbling under the surface. The same John you meet on the highway. The same John who waltzed into the police station as if he had the authority or right to control Bucky and call him an ‘asset’. It was always there.

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.”

Bucky’s smooth and deep voice cut through the tension in the room. You felt his grip on your hand squeeze for a moment, making sure you were okay. He could always sense your anxiety in the field. Your powers made keeping your calm difficult. You would never use them in battle unless your opponent was enhanced as well. You were a skilled fighter and agent, you didn’t need them. And it didn’t always seem ethical. But keeping them at bay, in check, could prove difficult- especially in heightened situations such as this.

Walker scoffed at Bucky’s words, dismissing the truth like it was nothing.

“Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well,” Bucky said.

“I’m not like you!” Walker’s voice was full of disgust and resentment. From the moment you met him, you could sense his quiet disdain for your best friend. Looking down his nose at him like he was some scum left over from Steve's life, something he’d always have to deal with. Yet at the same time, resentment. Jealousy over his power, control, and abilities in his enhanced body. As if that’s what made him an excellent fighter. Or a good person.

Your spare hand moved between Bucky’s shoulder blades, giving him a subtle and quiet support as you prepared.

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle, okay?” Sam said, taking a step closer to Walker. That shield danced in your vision, taunting you as he paced back and forth. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record.”

Walker’s distress spread across his face, his brows furrowing and eyes scrunching as he tussled with Sam’s words.

“We don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sam said.

The warehouse went silent as Walker stared at the ground before him. Bucky gave you a soft, tight-lipped smile before begrudgingly dropping your hand. He slowly took a step towards the man, joining Sam.

“John…” Bucky said, calmly.

“You gotta give me the shield, man,” Sam said.

That did it. You could feel the room shift that second.

A disturbing serene aura washed over Walker at that moment. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to you all. His eyes were dark, lacking a certain warmth and compassion you had grown so used to seeing through that blue cowl. A certain warmth that left when he hung up the shield.

“Oh…. so that’s what this is,” Walker said. “You almost got me.”

You could see his grip on the shield tighten, the leather straps twisting between his fingers.

“You made a mistake,” Sam said.

You slowly took a step forward, your hands flexing as you prepared for what was to come. Walker finally turned his gaze to you. His eyes roamed you up and down. You could’ve sworn you saw Bucky’s jaw clench, that familiar muscle tightening in distress. Walker smirked at you before glancing at Bucky. He could read the protectiveness radiating off of your supersoldier.

“You don’t wanna do this,” Walker said to him.

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze. His fists balled at his side, practically shaking with anger. He never took pleasure in a fight, every punch or kick felt like a necessity rather than enjoyment. But he couldn’t deny how much he desired to rip that shield from his grimy hands.

“Yeah we do,” Bucky said.

Sam lurched forward first, Bucky soon following suit. Your feet moved quickly, moving behind Walker as your friends attacked from the front. The man moved with a speed you had yet to see from him, a brute force you could only get from the serum.

With a harsh kick, Walker sent Sam flying away, leaving you and Bucky alone. You tried to knock Walker down from the back as Bucky grappled with the shield. As you sent a harsh kick into the back of Walker’s knees, he spun quickly and sent a jab into Bucky’s gut sending him backward in pain and knocking him off balance. Before you could back him up, Walker slammed a harsh punch into Bucky’s jaw. Your heart raced and your hands shook as you watched him drop to the ground. You sprung into action, pulling the shield back in your hands and keeping Walker from smashing it into Bucky’s face. Sam leaped in, kicking the shield up and drawing attention to him.

You slammed a kick into Walker’s back, sending him stumbling forward as Sam slashed at him with his wings. Bucky leaped up, his arm aiming to come down on the faux Captain America’s back hard but was ultimately blocked by the shield.

You were growing frustrated. Walker never packed this much of a punch. The serum raged through his veins, lacing each kick and swing of the shield with force and hate. As you and Sam continued to trade blocks at Walker, Bucky attempted to pull him down but was quickly met with the shield swinging into the side of his face. Your legs shook. The longer this dragged out the more difficult you find keeping your emotions in check. The longer you watched your favorite person in the world become decorated with blood and bruises, the more your ethical code began to look like a suggestion. Walker deserved a swift blast to the face and more. But you held off.

Walker slammed the shield into Sam’s back, sending him down. As your two friends recovered briefly, it was just you and him. You surged forward at the man, dodging as he swung at you. Being smaller than the two Avengers alongside you made it much easier to evade Walker’s sloppy attacks. You sent a firm kick into his chest followed by an uppercut into his chin. As he spun and tumbled, Bucky was back on his feet and meeting Walker with punches. Bucky’s attacks quickly led the pair into a tight spot, backing Walker up into a heavy piece of machinery. The pair spun in circles over the shield, yanking the vibranium disc back and forth and trading beatings in between. Sam quickly followed you over, diving in for aid, but quickly was sent flying back by Walker’s attacks. His body slammed to the ground with a grunt.

While Bucky worked, you glanced at Sam. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, preparing to dive back into the fight. In your moment of distraction, the fear and care for your dear friend overriding your common sense to keep fighting, you heard Walker’s voice pull you back. Bucky was trapped between the shield and a machine. You rushed over to help but it was far too late.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Before you could register what Walker was saying, you watched as Bucky went flying.

Walker’s forceful swing of the shield sent him hurtling across the warehouse. Your body froze as if someone had filled your veins with cement. The dramatic scene Walker had created came to an end with Bucky’s body smashing into an electrified pole and crashing to the ground. The might of his impact snapped the pole in the middle, sparks cascaded from the steel and flooded onto the floors; leading your eyes to Bucky.

“Bucky!” You screamed.

His body lay limp and splayed out on the cold dirty floors. His face was smushed into the cement. His limbs didn’t dare to move. Except for his vibranium arm, which twitched and spasmed under his body; blue and white sparks burst out from the plates adding to the horror.

Your breaths were heavy and shaky, your hands trembled at your sides as the vibrating blue of your powers began to spark at your fingertips; mirroring the sight of your best friend’s arm. The room was spinning, at least that’s what made sense to you. Your balance was unstable, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. You turned to spare a look at Sam, begging him for permission. But he was already back on his feet and rushing towards Walker.

“Go!” He shouted.

You had never been faster. Your abilities never gave you the gift of flight but in that moment they very well could have. Your legs became weak and your steps messy as you neared Bucky. You crashed to your knees beside him, pain radiated up your thighs from the impact but you couldn’t care. It couldn’t be worse than the expanding tight pain in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

Your hands quivered as they hovered over his body. With him lying so still you could finally take in the damage Walker had done to his face. Blood was splattered all over, deep purple and blue hues bloomed across his cheekbones, and a nasty split had opened on his lip. Worst of all, his nose was broken.

The sparks continued to burst from the plates of his arm, his hand jerking and spasming with an unsettling sound of grinding metal. Quickly, you placed your hands firmly on the vibranium. A deep blue beamed from under your palms, cascading the metallic golds and blacks of his arm in your glow. The excess electricity from the crash moved in waves through the arm up into your hands. You focused as all the veins in your body became electrified, an aqua glow shone through your skin as the energy you. Your once y/e/c eyes were quickly overtaken, the cool energy overriding your iris’ and leaving an intense indigo shine. With a sharp gasp and breath, you let go. His arm had stopped moving, now lying as still and motionless as he did.

“Bucky,” you said, giving his damaged body a soft shake. “Bucky, wake up.”

He didn’t move, his face slack and limps heavy as you struggled to turn him to his back and off of his arm. Your hands rushed to his face, cupping his cheeks and holding him close as if you could shield him from more of John Walker’s savagery. If someone had the power to take your abilities and trade them for the ability to heal, you’d offer them anything they wished just for the potential to spare Bucky from his pain even for a moment.

“Buck… come on wake up,” the fresh blood from his injuries spilled into your fingertips, the crimson caked into your cuticles and threatened not to leave.

“Plum, please,” His body twitched; your lungs finally filled with air.

His breaths were labored but there, his chest rattled as he sucked in much-needed air. Your fingers moved to his neck, their shuddering finally stilling as you felt his pulse return to a firm and strong pattern.

The sounds of Sam’s grunts and Walker’s cries swiftly pulled your attention back to your friend. He was up in the air, a long metal cord pulling on the shield and attempting to free it from Walker’s venomous grasp. To no avail, as soon Sam was flung back to the floor and across the room. The shield clattered to the ground, equally laid between the two men. The smug and determined look on Walker’s face enraged you, the blue glow returning to your eyes. Sam glanced over at you before rushing for the shield. He needed you.

You turned back to Bucky, still unresponsive to your touches and voice. He was breathing, his pulse steady. Taking in the broken state of his body, his face battered and bloodied, you couldn’t hold back your rage any longer.

It was as if something had possessed you. Gently, you laid Bucky back to the ground, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, your voice monotone yet determined. The expressions of concern, fear, and horror that had played upon your face just moments ago were now gone. You were cold and still, as you rose to your feet and walked over to the two men fighting behind you.

Before Walker could grab the shield, a harsh blast of blue energy sent him flying back in the opposite direction. The man was studded, confused by how he could have been knocked down. He looked up to see you rushing towards him. You were steady in your movement, not running but with each step winding up for the next blow. Your hands were baked in a fierce glow of aqua as you channeled more energy through your fingertips.

Walker scrambled to his feet, preparing for the offense. Before he could even take a step he was back on the ground with another blast from you. A loud cry fell from your lips as you slammed him down with force from your power. As you ran up to Walker, he quickly sent a firm hit to your jaw. You stumbled back, regaining your vision to see him coming at you. You jumped up, knees to your chest and feet pressing on his as you blasted him once again.

He was on the ground with you towering over him. His face was coated in shades of black and blue, mirroring the face you were trembling over just seconds ago. Good, he deserved that and more.

You blasted him again as he struggled to crawl away. You followed him, hot on his trail as energy overflowed from your hands. The shield was long forgotten by you, only driven by your need for revenge. Bucky couldn’t even answer you, couldn’t move. He needed to pay.

Walker’s body slammed back into machinery as you surged more energy at him. He was done, hands shaking above him as he prepared for your next blow.

“We’re better than this right? Captain America doesn’t do this,” Walker said through his split lip and shaking jaw.

You scoffed; if only he had thought that way an hour ago. You wouldn’t be here. Bucky would be okay.

“Good thing I’m not Captain America,” you said. Walker shielded his face as you wound up your aim. Energy radiated from your fist up your forearm as you pulled it back to deliver one last shot.

“Y/n, stop!” Sam shouted.

Your blast was halted by a firm hand on your upper arm. You recognized the stillness and coolness that held onto your body. Turning you saw Bucky behind you. He was shaking as he stood, breaths labored and heavy, but there he was. Sam ran up behind the two of you, shield in hand as he looked at you. But all you could focus on was Bucky.

Bucky stepped forward, shaking his head softly as he lowered your arm.

“This isn’t you, you don’t do this,” he said. Your nostrils flared as you breathed heavily, struggling to reel your rage back in. You glanced back at Walker who lay on the ground, glaring at you smugly. Your eyes shone brighter, your fists clenching as the glow intensified.

“Hey,” Bucky said, taking your face and turning you to look back at him. “You’re not him.”

The energy overtaking your body began to fade as you relaxed under his firm touch. The uncontrollable blue glow began to fade back into your body, leaving you panting as you tried to calm your emotions. Bucky stood before you, vibranium hand stroking your own.

“You’re okay,” you said.

“I’m okay. Hey, hey, I’m okay. It’s over,” he said, pulling you away from the scene you had created. He walked you slowly back towards Sam, you shook in his grasp. Walker struggled to stand as he watched the three of you leave. The shield taunted him as it hung off of Sam’s arm, finally back with its true owner. The Captain America.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at Sam. “I just….” you glanced at Bucky, once again seeing the battering of his beautiful face. Your throat swelled as you lost your words, choking on your fear.

“We got it back,” Sam said, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading out of the building. His limp as he walked didn’t escape you.

Bucky gripped your hand tightly, pulling you with him as he walked. He didn’t make it far before his knees began to buckle, his body slipping as he fell. You were at his side in a heartbeat, arm hauling him back up beside you; refusing to let his body crash to the filthy ground again.

“Hey, hold onto me,” you said. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder and his other gripped at your waist as you began to pull him from the warehouse, his feet limping and tripping as he struggled to walk. Walker’s body began to fade in the distance as you left.

“Why did you do that, doll?” Bucky asked as you walked, his voice slurred and low. Each wince and suck of breath stabbed at your side like a pecking bird, refusing to let your wound heal.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done that. I….” you paused, stopping your feet as you gave him a moment to catch his breath. “When I saw you hit that pole, I lost it.”

“I’m okay, Y/n,” he said, yet his words seemed to hold no weight as he struggled to stay upright at your side.

“Your arm was sparking, Bucky. You weren’t moving. I-I thought that you…” You couldn’t finish, gripping him tighter as your voice shook. As if letting him go would give the world a chance to tear him from you once again. Your fingertips dug into his tact suit, determined to embed yourself in him.

“Hey, babydoll,” he said, hoisting himself up just enough to take your face in his hands. He swayed on his feet as he stood, intent on holding you close as he spoke. Your hands held him steady at his side.

“I’m here, I’ll always be here. But no matter what happens to me, I don’t want you to lose yourself,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I can’t have that.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you said.

“You won’t. I’m right here, I’m always coming back to you.”

You nodded softly as you rested your head on his chest. His hands moved to your hair as he held you close. Your hands wound around his center, keeping him safe in your arms. As long as you were around, no one would take him.

“You’re so good, you’re so special, Y/n. You need to be strong, even if I get hurt. You can’t drop your morals for me. They mean too much to you,” he said.

“I think you may be my weakness,” you said, your voice muffled in his chest. He tucked himself closer into you at your words, his head resting upon yours. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“You’ve always been mine,” he said softly.

---

taglist:

(comment to join <3)

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #fanfic #tfatws #marvel #fanfiction

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fawnhart · 2 days ago

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bambi and drew when they were a ‘situationship’ ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

Drew’s breathing is still erratic, the sex you just shared with him has left him gasping for air. You don’t say anything—just slip out from under the covers, the chill of the room hitting your skin. You don’t even look at him when you walk to the bathroom.

The door clicks shut behind you, but you can still hear him shifting in the bed, the soft rustling of sheets. You stare at yourself in the mirror, eyes wide, brows furrowed.

What the fuck am I doing?

You don’t even realize when he starts walking toward you. It’s like he’s always been behind you, looming over you even when you don’t want him to be.

The bathroom door cracks open, and there he is, looking confused.

“baby, what are you doing?”

You don’t even know why you’re still talking to him at all. You came over to talk about how you’re sick and tired of being pushed aside, sick of feeling left out anytime his freinds are around, not fitting in because they view you as young and naive. But like always you gave in and slept with him. You knew the conversation wasn’t happening, so what’s the point in staying?

“I’m leaving,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, but it feels louder than anything you’ve ever said to him.

His face twists into something you can't quite place—disbelief, anger, hurt, all mixed together. “Wh- Are you serious?”

You can’t even look at him. You focus on your reflection in the mirror, the way your shoulders sag, how defeated you feel and look. Mascara and lip liner smeared, your cheeks warm and sweaty.

“I’m serious,” you murmur. “I’m done.”

He takes a step closer, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pull away. His touch, once comforting, feels like a brand now. Like it burns.

“Bambi, you’re being ridiculous” he says, a laugh edging his words, but it doesn’t sound like he’s laughing at all. It sounds like he’s mocking you.

“I’m not being ridiculous!” you snap, spinning around to face him. You feel the words press against your chest, sharp and bitter. “It was a mistake.”

He scoffs. “A mistake? After everything? you’re really telling me this after what we just did?”

You bite your lip, eyes stinging. “Yes. Because you’re always so damn mean to me!”

The words hang in the air, thick with the tension between you both. Drew looks like he’s just been hit, but he’s not giving up.

He raises an eyebrow, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You don’t even know what you want half the time, Bambi. You change your mind like the goddamn wind. One minute, you want to be with me, the next, you’re pushing me away. How am I supposed to keep up with that?”

“You want to know why?” You’re shaking now, the anger bubbling over. “Because you make it impossible. You’re the one who’s always pushing and pulling me in when your little bitch isn’t in town. You make everything about yourself, and then when I need something—anything—there’s nothing, everytime you gain something I’m the one losing everything!”

Drew’s face hardens, and his voice lowers to something dangerous. “I’m not the one who doesn’t know what they are doing. You’re the one who thinks everything’s gonna work out just because you’re here with me. Newsflash! its not. Not everything is as simple as you want it to be. You’re naive to think it is.”

You feel your chest tighten, your throat burning. "Don’t call me that." You say as tears start staining your skin

He looks at you, unblinking. "You don't get it, You can't keep acting like everything's perfect, like we can just keep pretending things are fine when they’re not."

“It’s not fine, Drew," you say, your voice cracking. "That’s why I’m leaving.”

He just stares at you, his face twisted, his eyes dark with frustration. "This is stupid," he mutters, turning away and heading back to bed "I can’t keep doing this shit."

But you’re already over it. Your mind is made up, and you’re not going to let him talk you out of it. Not again. Not this time.

You grab your phone, your purse, and without a second glance, you’re out the door. The air hits you, cold and biting, but it feels better than the heat of the argument.

A cab pulls up, and you don’t hesitate. You climb in without looking back, your hands shaking as you close the door behind you. You don’t even know where you’re going yet, doesn’t matter anyway. You just need space.

The cab pulls away, and you stare out the window, watching the streetlights blur into streaks of yellow and orange.

Drew’s face is still stuck in your mind. His words, the way he made you feel small. He always does that, Makes you feel like you’re the one who doesn’t know what’s real, like you’re the one who’s in the wrong.

But you’re not wrong. Not this time. You know what you need, even if it hurts to walk away.

you wonder if Drew is standing in that dark apartment, staring at the door you just walked through, trying to figure out whether he wants you or not. Whether he’ll ever make up his mind.

Maybe, maybe not. But right now, all you know is that you need to breathe.

#works!⟡࿔*:･ﾟ #bambi!reader✦ •ִ ᜔.#drew starkey #aesthetic #drew starkey imagine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x reader

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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

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Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3

Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart

cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.”

James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know.

You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head.

“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.”

You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger.

“Sorry,” you say.

“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”

“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.”

James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”

“What did he want you to let me know?”

“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.”

You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.”

“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?”

“Better than when I woke up.”

“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”

You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench.

“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead.

It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly.

“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.”

“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.”

“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too.

You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.”

“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.”

That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.”

“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.”

James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.”

You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.”

“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?”

“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?”

James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.”

“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.”

James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.

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leahwllmsn · 3 days ago

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toxic till the end

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 3.3k

tw: toxic relationships

You and Alexia are bad news for each other, but you don’t want anyone else.

It’s another day after yet another fight. You already know what’s going to happen next—it’s a routine so ingrained in your life that there’s no room for uncertainty. Alexia will show up at your door, begging for forgiveness, and you will welcome her with open arms.

This time though, you tell yourself it’s going to be different. You’re going to put a stop to this whole thing.

You’re letting go of Alexia for good.

It’s been years of back and forth and you’re tired.

You’re on your couch, clutching your phone, battling with yourself about being the first one to text. To break the routine you and Alexia have perfected means breaking this cycle once and for all.

I meant what I said last night. it’s over. we’re done.

Alexia’s response comes not a minute later. How fast she responds gives you more satisfaction than you admit. Her response however… It left an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

A: if that is what you want

No, that’s not what you want at all. But it’s what you need. For your sanity.

I want you out of my life. goodbye, ale

—

You met Alexia through a mutual friend. You liked to go out to clubs and bars, something to get your mind off the stress at work. It was a wonder that you hadn’t met Alexia sooner, but you later realized it must be her job as a football superstar that prevented her from partying every week like you.

When Alexia came up to you, her chin held high, a smirk permanently etched on her face, you knew she was nothing but trouble. It was the way she presented herself, so full of herself—as if she could get anything she wanted, that got you hooked. You loved a confident woman, and Alexia was the most confident woman on earth.

“Hola.” Alexia was the first to greet you, observing you with a curious look. You took her outstretched hand, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how… strong her grip was. Yeah.

“Hi.”

“I’m Alexia,” she gave you a smile, one that girls must fawn over. Before you could respond, she continued, “And you must be… the prettiest girl in this room.”

Your immediate response was to roll your eyes, but your heart was a mess. You couldn’t believe that something so corny had your cheeks blush a deep shade of red.

“Got anything better than that?” you replied calmly, taking a sip of your drink to hide the way your lips wanted to form a smile.

Alexia hummed in thought, leaning closer to you until her mouth was inches away from your ear. You could smell her perfume now—it was something from Le Labo, the woody one that people liked so much.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘u’ and ‘i’ together.”

It was so bad that it genuinely worked on you. You let out a laugh so loud, ten pairs of eyes turned in your direction. But you didn’t care because Alexia was looking at you with that glimmer in her eyes.

You couldn’t have known what was to come.

—

Despite your wariness about Alexia, you gave her a chance. You gave her multiple chances.

A few months in and you were inseparable.

The most shocking thing about Alexia was that she was the most loyal person ever. You thought that she was, well, a playgirl. It was the stereotype that came with being a footballer and how charming she was—she could get anyone she wanted.

But all she wanted was you.

It was a huge boost to your ego, you must admit.

Maybe that was why you decided to test the waters. To see whether Alexia really loved you or she was just playing you.

(Looking back, you realized you were the one who started this whole game.)

You didn’t watch football, you had zero interest in it. Alexia loved that she got to be the one to introduce football to you.

So when you begged Alexia to let you meet her teammates, claiming you found a new interest on the team, she was surprised.

The first thing you did in that locker room was introduce yourself to Patri. Sexy, funny, tattooed Patri, who flirted back the moment you bat your eyelashes at her. To you, it was exhilarating the way Alexia grabbed your wrist and pushed you to the nearest storage closet.

Maybe that was why you loved to push her buttons so much.

But that wasn’t to say that Alexia didn’t do the same. She was so much more intense, you learned. Maybe even borderline toxic, but you didn’t think too much about it.

You hadn’t been partying every week like you usually would, spending each night with Alexia instead, living in that lovesick bubble. But one night you were bored, and you wanted to go. Alexia had a game tomorrow so you knew she would be staying at home.

“Where are you going, amor?”

You saw Alexia’s reflection in the mirror as you were putting on the final touches of your make-up. You were wearing a dress so tight that it left no room for imagination. “I’m going to Manuelas, baby.”

“What? No, you are not.” Alexia stated.

You turned around and gave her a questioning look. “I am? Can’t you see that I’m ready?”

“Well, I do not want you to go,” Alexia crossed her arms over her chest, a frown on her face. “Especially with that dress.”

You rolled your eyes at her, scoffing. “I think I can do whatever I want, Ale. I’m going out.”

“So you are just going to leave me here alone? I need you tonight, amor.”

The way her tone changed almost gave you whiplash. She was no longer commanding; she was pleading, her voice trembled as if you leaving to a club would be the worst thing to ever happen to her.

“Please, cariño?”

You knew the moment she gave you her best puppy-dog eyes, your resolve was crumbling. You’d agree to whatever she wanted, just like always.

“You can come with me,” you suggested, although you knew she couldn’t.

“You know I have a game tomorrow.” Alexia stepped closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing gentle kisses along your exposed neck. “Let’s have a night in. I’m going to give you a better night than your friends could anyway, you know that.”

So you stayed.

You didn’t care when it happened again the week after, letting Alexia undress you was much better than any nightclubs anyway.

When your friends complained that they hadn’t seen you in so long, you made an effort to meet up with them for lunch, but that was cut short when Alexia called and demanded you to come home because she was done with training.

Alexia was possessive, you knew that. You didn’t need your friends to hold an ‘intervention’ for you because they thought Alexia was getting too much.

You loved her possessive attitude. So much so that you intentionally flirted with waitresses and strangers just to see her jealous streak.

You didn’t think anything could break your relationship. You loved each other.

One day, Alexia went too far and you got proven wrong.

You were tired from work, and you wanted nothing more than to get under the covers and sleep. Alexia had other plans. She was wearing a suit, her hair slicked back in a neat ponytail. She looked good.

“Where are you going, Ale?”

“Oh, hey, mi amor,” Alexia pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling back when you wanted more. Alexia always made you feel better. “I’m going to be late. I have dinner with old friends.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. Alexia never mentioned any dinner with old friends. “Who?”

“Just… some friends I haven’t met in a long time.” You let her go without any more questions because you were seconds away from falling asleep.

When you woke up and found Alexia asleep on the couch instead, you thought nothing of it, going through with your morning routine. When Alexia stretched lazily, flashing you a smile, you returned it without a second thought. But then you caught the lipstick stain on her white collar, a lipstick shade that you would never wear… That was when you started screaming at her.

“I can’t believe you!” “What did I do?”

“What did you do?” You pointed towards the red stain on her collar. “Do you think I’m blind? Stupid? Both?!”

“Oh no no, amor,” Alexia immediately stood up, hands raised defensively as she faced you. “This is not what it looks like. You are misunderstanding!”

“You’re crazy, Alexia. Who’s fucking lipstick is that?!”

“No one’s! You are being paranoid.”

“Stop lying to me!”

“Amor, I would never lie to you, you know that,” Alexia huffed. She had the nerve to shake her in disappointment. “In fact, I am insulted that you think I would do such a thing!”

“Oh yeah? How’s this!” You unclasped the necklace Alexia got you as a gift and threw it at her face. “Fuck you!”

“Amor! That hurts!”

“Fucking cheater!”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me!”

The amount of anger coursing through your veins was a new feeling. You let out a shout before stomping your way out of the apartment. You looked back at your girlfriend, still with that stupid, glaring red stain on her shirt. “I never want to see your face again, Alexia!”

You slammed the front door and left.

That was the start of the cycle.

—

Alexia showed up at your apartment the next day, flowers in hand, eyes swollen from when she cried too much—a rare sight for her. You felt your heart soften at the sight.

“Hola,” Alexia rasped out. “Can I come in?”

Against your better judgement you let her in. You allowed her to explain her side of things, how she claimed that yes, her ex kissed her, but Alexia didn’t return the gesture. You didn’t entirely believe her but you pulled her into your arms anyway.

Alexia repeated how sorry she was over and over again, she told you that she loved you, and she would never intentionally hurt you.

“I know, Ale,” you kissed the top of her head, your voice softer now compared to the shouts yesterday. Alexia was laying on top of you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck—usually you would be the one in Alexia’s arms, this change felt nice too.

“Do you still love me?”

You didn’t hesitate when you replied. “More than anything.”

Alexia promised that there wouldn’t be anymore fights after that. You didn’t really believe her, and you didn’t think she believed herself either, but you agreed nonetheless.

It was true, you and Alexia went back to the honeymoon phase and didn’t fight at all.

The calm lasted for a few weeks. Barcelona won something, you couldn’t remember, but it was huge. So it called for a celebration.

Alexia, being the captain, was busy being the center of attention. She loved it when people worshipped her, you knew that, so you let her be. You were alone at the bar when someone approached you, offering to buy you a drink. It was Jana—you remembered her from before you met Alexia, through mutual friends. She was definitely your type, but she was five years younger than you and that put you off.

“You do know I’m dating your captain,” you spoke directly in her ear, the music making it harder to hear.

“I’m just being friendly,” Jana shrugged, although the glint in her eyes revealed otherwise.

You took the drink she offered and stayed close to her—too close, because the next thing you knew Alexia was in front of you, a dangerous smile on her lips.

“We are going home.”

“It’s early!” you laughed, passing your drink to your girlfriend. “Have some fun, Ale. Don’t be so uptight.”

Jana giggled and Alexia’s frown deepened. You turned towards the younger brunette and grabbed her arms. “Jana and I are going to dance!”

You left Alexia speechless as you made your way to the dance floor. You could feel her eyes on you the whole time, but all you did was something innocent. There was nothing conspicuous about dancing with a friend. You didn’t kiss her like Alexia kissed someone else.

You didn’t even last five minutes, before Alexia dragged you away and forced you into her car.

You pouted at her the whole ride home. “You are being so ridiculous, Alexia. I was just dancing with a friend.”

“No, you were slutting it up with a friend. There is a difference.”

You were so offended by her words that you demanded she pull over and let you out.

“I am not doing that.”

“Pull over.”

“No.”

“Alexia, pull over or I’ll open this car door and step right into oncoming traffic.”

“Estás loca!” Alexia granted your wish and you were met with the cold, night air as you stepped out of her car. “How are you going to get home now?”

You answered her by slamming her precious car door and flipping a middle finger in her direction. Thankfully it wasn’t that far from your place, you could walk for fifteen minutes. It was fine.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, whether it was because of the anger you were feeling or the anticipation of seeing Alexia the next day. But by morning, all you felt was disappointment, because Alexia didn’t show up. You waited and waited, until it was night time and you decided to send her a text.

do you even care about me?

Alexia showed up five minutes later even though her apartment was almost half an hour away. This time, instead of flowers, she brought your favourite chocolates. Ten boxes of them.

“I am sorry, guapa.” You were sitting on Alexia’s lap, your hands playing with the baby hair on the back of her neck. “I was just jealous because I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “I was the one to provoke you.”

Alexia nodded, pecking your lips. “Sí. You provoked me.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, you know,” you assured her. “I’m all yours, Alexia.”

She grinned at you, pulling you even closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. “That’s good to hear, amor. No one can love you like I do.”

—

You stayed with Alexia despite it all. Despite the monthly–if not, weekly–fights, despite the red flags waving at you every time you recalled something Alexia did to your friends.

You didn’t care about any of it as long as you have Alexia.

Your friends stopped trying to meddle. Once, they decided to give Alexia a piece of their minds and that made Alexia ignore you for a few days. So in turn, you gave your friends a piece of your mind and told them to back the fuck off. You were a big girl; you knew what you were getting yourself into.

It went on for years. You and Alexia continued the routine: someone says something they didn’t mean—fight—make up—someone gets jealous—fight again—make up, and so on.

It was incredible how much strength you had in you to put up with it. But you loved Alexia, and she loved you back, so it was worth it.

It wasn’t until a fight got so big that it left you both screaming at each other in an empty park in Barcelona at midnight, and suddenly, you felt so suffocated. For the first time ever, you wondered what would happen if both of you just… stopped this whole thing. You wondered then, if you could survive living without Alexia.

“I do not know what you want me to do, Y/N!”

“Well, for one, I would like you to stop flirting with every girl you see. I’m right here!”

“I was not flirting! You just keep on imagining things!”

“Fuck you, Ale!”

“Sí, you have done that many times,” Alexia shrugged casually, her body language telling you she was unbothered by this whole thing. “We can do it again tonight if you want!”

“Fuck! You!”

You turned to leave, but Alexia grabbed your wrist. “Where are you going?”

You yanked your arm free from her grasp. “I’m leaving! It’s over!”

Alexia let out a mocking laugh. “Over?! I do not think so. Come on, amor, do you really think you can live without me?”

Alexia was so sure that you couldn’t. You felt like you wanted to prove to her otherwise.

So you held your chin out and held her gaze. “Yes. I can. I’m leaving you.”

Neither of you said anything for a minute. Alexia silently challenged you to take back your words, but you weren’t going to. You decided that you were strong enough to end things.

“You are lying,” Alexia scoffed. “You cannot leave me.”

You glared at her. You hated that she was undermining you. “Watch me.”

As you turned around once again to leave, Alexia suddenly stepped forward and snaked her arms around your waist, her front pressed against your back. You let her hold you—it was going to be the last time anyway.

“Mi amor,” Alexia’s voice trembled. “You cannot leave me. I do not know how to do this without you. Please don’t go. Te amo. Te amo mucho.”

You held back your tears, not expecting Alexia to sound this vulnerable. You placed your hand on top of hers, hesitating for a brief moment before slowly pulling away.

You were finally free.

—

A week passed by without anything from Alexia. Not a phone call, not a text, no flowers on your doorstep, no unannounced visits to your apartment. You realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing Alexia beg for your forgiveness. Alexia is actually respecting your wishes.

She’s no longer bothering you.

You should feel happy, but all you feel is the opposite. You genuinely feel sick at the thought of having Alexia out of your life.

You want her next to you. You want her near you, right now. You don’t care that all you do is fight, that’s what couples do—Alexia once said.

Your friends think it’s a good thing that you cut things off with Alexia, but you don’t think their opinion matters anyway. They’ve always acted like they know your relationship with Alexia better than you.

To get them to back off though, you agreed on a blind date with someone. Just for one night. One night to see what a “perfect girl” looks like.

Her name is Jennifer. What a bland name.

She likes to play tennis and does horse riding. Football is better.

She has a British accent because she grew up in London. Alexia’s accent is much better, way sexier.

An hour in and you could tell that there is nothing wrong with her despite your best efforts at trying to find the worst in everything. But she’s not Alexia.

No one will ever come close.

Before Jennifer gets the chance to order dessert, you fake a stomach ache and leaves.

You walk aimlessly, but deep down you know you have one destination in mind.

It’s been years of back and forth. Yes, you’re tired, but you also crave it.

You crave her.

No matter how much Alexia breaks your heart, you know she’s the only one who can fix it—albeit, not perfectly, she can still patch it up nonetheless.

You don’t mind it.

If being with Alexia means having a bruised heart full of bandages, you’ll take it.

“Hola, guapa. I missed you.”

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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fairestwriting · 3 days ago

Note

Oooooooo I have a idea- what about Pomefiore with a cat beastman S/O who was given catnip?

i. swear i tried to make this sound like its not cat weed but i just couldnt escape that. it Is cat weed. also this turned out so long good god. lost in the sauce

Vil Schoenheit

It was an accident, he was working on a potion for one of his classes and you just happened to be in the laboratory at the first time. Since you had gotten together it became kind of a thing between you two. Since he can't always make time to see you, and your catlike traits make you sleepy often, the compromise you reach together is that he lets you sit around and nap while he's busy with other things. It's comforting for you both, and even helps him focus.

But, much to his own dismay, Vil isn't perfect, and even though slip-ups are rare, they do still happen. Maybe he was just tired that day, and unluckily (luckily?) it happened right when you opened your eyes — He was too focused on measuring a certain ingredient, the bottle was right next to something like a catnip extract, he knocks it over and hardly notices it. You very much do, though.

He can't really smell it the way you do for obvious reasons, but even when he's so focused on getting to the next ingredient, it's impossible to ignore you hazily walking up to him and nuzzling into his shoulder with big, dilated eyes, asking him how the project is going as soon as he puts the bottle down.

It startles him, he's about to scold you in that tone you've grown so familiar with, then he notices what actually happened. And you're just all lovey-dovey and giggly, and you two are alone right now, could anyone really stay cold and calculated in that situation? Needless to say, the project will have to be started over. You end up laying on his lap, purring while he pets you and exasperatedly sighs, embarrassed at the mishap. And easily swayed by how cozy you seem to be, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a break right now…

Rook Hunt

Unlike in Vil's case, Rook's "catnip incident" is very intentional. And not just that, it's thoroughly planned. Maybe way too thoroughly, but, well, you're dating Rook. You knew what you were signing up for, he was never quiet about his fascination about the habits you had that differ you from humans.

You didn't think too much of it when he brought up catnip. He's already asked you so many questions related to your beastperson status. Really, you're almost surprised it never came up before. You shrug and tell him you wouldn't know how you'd react to it, you never really went anywhere near the thing. He smiles and you get the feeling that this will be changed soon. Your suspicions feel very confirmed when he asks you if you're not also curious about it, chuckling as he fawns over the way your cat ears twitch with his words.

Then it's just kind of a given that he'd eventually get you some to see how you react, it's just not a scheduled thing — at least not on your end, because he definitely had the timing in mind down to the exact second — and you're not exactly sure how he'd even manage to get the thing. It might even take long enough for you to forget the conversation until the day he finds you at the courtyard after class, all by yourself, and asks you to smell his wrist with the biggest smile on his face. One would easily assume he was just showing off some new perfume Vil made him try…

But, again, it's Rook. Intrigued, and suspicious or not, you can't resist getting closer, he's sly enough to have only gotten a tiny bit of the thing on himself, not enough for you to smell it from afar despite your sharp senses. Then, the effect hits you, and you'd think he was the catperson with how he seems to melt along with you, finding your reaction just so endearing. He doesn't shut up for the next half hour or so, going on and on about just how cute you are when you're so relaxed, scratching under your chin and behind your ears. He'll definitely never forget it, nor will he easily let you forget it, bringing it up to tease you whenever possible.

Epel Felmier

Also another one who might do it intentionally, but with a completely different approach. To Epel, it's a way simpler thing. He's curious about how it's like to be a catperson, definitely did not expect things like fangs or purring even though, in the near future, he thinks he was silly for being so surprised at them. Basically, every little quirk of yours is something new, kind of exciting even, and definitely really cute.

He's had cats back at his family's farms, not exactly owned animals, more like strays he would feed on his mom's request so they stuck around and took care of the rats. Catnip was something he heard about before, when they discussed about how to keep and care for the cats, but not really easy to access in that sleepy, rural town. He gets the idea when he learns about it being an ingredient in certain potions.

He asks you about it the next day a little nervously. You can probably tell he snuck the bottle out of the Pomefiore lab and has it in his hands just from his odd posture. He talks about the things he heard, how it could make cats really happy and relaxed, then asks if you knew whether the effect also worked on catpeople. Regardless if you just say you're not sure, or if you want to cut to the chase and ask what he's holding, he presents the bottle to you right next. Saying he was wondering if you'd like to maybe try it. Followed up with how he's not sure about whether it'd be allowed or not, so you two should probably find somewhere secluded or something—

Epel quickly realizes how that sounds, but can't take back the words. He swears he has no second intentions, he just thought you might like it (not mentioning if he really wanted to know if you'd get all cuddly like the cats from commercials he saw) and in one way or another, off you are to a supply closet or something like that. It does not help his case of looking like he has second intentions, but you do know him well enough. He's giggling from the mischief when he shows you the bottle, and almost drops it in surprise when you end up getting too close and taking a too strong whiff off the stuff—

…Your eyes get huge, and you're giggling too, blinking in surprise at how the world shifts in just a second. Epel asks you how it feels. You say it's actually pretty good, leaning into him cozily. He gets flustered and tries (fails) to not show it, staring at your tail while it sways. He reaches out to pet your head and you lean in. You get caught very quickly and lectured for an amount of time that you do not recall at all, and he has no intention of actually listening to it, because you were being cute and you two got interrupted… Next time will have to be actually planned, though.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #lis writing

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covenofagatha · 2 days ago

Note

author, can you make agatha x reader, where agatha as the head chef at the high-end restaurant and us reader as the new worker in the kitchen?

Another one from November finally done 😅 also thank you so much for the picture GOD she looks good as a chef

I have also never worked in a restaurant and I know absolutely nothing about cooking/the culinary world so I apologize for any inaccuracies just roll with it lol

Under her knife

You finally get the job of your dreams working at Agatha Harkness's restaurant

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: spanking, fingering, Agatha is a mean boss, slight dub-con, praise kink, manipulative chef!Agatha

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

It was a dream come true when you got the call that you were hired at Agatha Harkness’s restaurant, Nicky’s Steakhouse.

She was a celebrity in the food world and getting an audience with her was near impossible.

As luck would have it, she came into one of your classes at The Culinary Institute of America a few days before your graduation for a demonstration on how to make gateau saint honoré, a French pastry dessert and one of the most difficult to make.

She had asked a question and you were the only one out of fifty students who raised your hand. Your voice shook as you answered and she looked surprised when you said the right thing.

Throughout the rest of the assembly of the ingredients, she kept looking over at you, like she was making sure you were paying attention. After the lesson, she asked to speak with you in private. You had never been so nervous in your life and you would never forget the way her blue eyes burned into yours when she told you that she saw something special and wanted you to come in for an interview.

At the high-end restaurant that she owned.

Just because you answered a question correctly.

But you were disappointed when you went in for it and you were met with just the sous-chef. Part of you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Agatha and was hoping you’d get to see her again.

She asked you questions, both about your experience and school, and how to make specific dishes. And then she put you in the kitchen and told you to make lobster thermidor.

She watched you intensely the whole time and when you were done, she took one bite and told you that you would find out within the next week.

A day later, you got a call from Agatha herself, who told you that she wanted you on board and that you start in a week.

And the day is finally here.

The first day of the rest of your life. You take a deep breath in your car and count to ten to calm your nerves. Your stomach is twisting in knots and you’re not sure you’ve ever been more anxious in your life.

But you’ve got this.

You were put on the evening shift and the moment you walk through the door, your nose is hit with the most delicious of smells. The restaurant is packed, like you’ve heard it is every night.

You’ve never actually eaten here before; it costs an arm and a leg and culinary school wasn’t cheap.

Winding through the tables to the kitchen, you catch sight of some of the most delectable food you’ve ever seen and your mouth waters.

You give yourself a tiny pinch just to make sure you aren’t dreaming, but it stings. This is real. This is happening.

The kitchen door swings open and you’re immediately almost knocked to the ground by three waitresses bustling out of the kitchen, carrying steaming bowls of pasta and platters of meat and towers of croquembouche. You jump out of the way, muttering a quick “Sorry” before carefully entering and staying close to the wall as you look around for Agatha.

It doesn’t take you long to see her, or rather, hear her.

“Are you incompetent?” Her voice rings out over the clambering of pots and pans and line cooks shouting to each other and you see Agatha Harkness on the other side of the kitchen glowering over a cowering man, a waiter by the way he’s dressed. Her white uniform is form-fitting and her dark hair is neatly tucked in a bun under her chef toque, her blue eyes filled with a dangerous heat. She’s wearing little gold hoop earrings and her lips are painted slightly pink.

The man standing in front of her visibly trembles. Fear twists in your stomach even though you’re not the one in trouble. What did he do? “Chef Harkness, I’m sorry,” he stammers but she slams her hand down on the countertop to shut him up.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” She scoffs and holds up a fork. The man gulps. “What kind of fork is this?”

“A salad fork,” he answers immediately.

Agatha drops the fork and it clangs on the floor. “So then why,” she hisses, leaning in closer, and you can feel the fear radiating off the man, “did you put it on the right side of the dinner fork in the corner booth? Did you forget that salad forks go on the left?”

He shakes his head furiously. “It was a mistake, I’m sorry!”

“I don’t have time for mistakes. Get out of my kitchen. You’re fired,” she barks and your jaw drops.

What have you gotten yourself into? You didn’t realize how ruthless Agatha was going to be. What if you mess up tonight?

Will she fire you just as quickly?

The man, to his credit, doesn’t put up a fight. He takes off his name tag vest and hands it to her before stalking out of the kitchen, brushing past you on his way out. No one else has even looked up from what they’re doing. Is this just a standard routine?

You swallow roughly and turn back to Agatha and find, with a jolt, that she’s already looking at you, a throbbing vein prominent in her forehead.

She beckons you forward, and as if in a trance, you make your way over to her, stopping every now and then to let someone with food slide past you.

“There she is,” Agatha says when you get to her and she studies you like she’s judging if you know where a salad fork should go.

You offer a shaky smile. “Hi, Chef Harkness, I just want to say thank you so much for this opportunity and I’m going to do my best with every single meal. I promise I won’t let you down.”

Agatha snorts and thrusts the fired man’s name tag and vest into your hands. “Easy there, y/n,” and a thrill runs through you at her knowing your name, “Your uniform is in the backroom. Put it on and get to work.”

Nodding, it becomes clear to you that she doesn’t want to talk anymore, so you rush back and find a double-breasted coat, checkered pants, apron, and toque neatly folded on a bench with your name printed on them. The uniform fits you perfectly which you’re a little surprised about.

You’re not exactly sure what to do with the fired man’s stuff, so you just leave it there.

Even though you’re a bit weary from the display you just saw, you can’t help but feel incredibly excited that you’re actually here. You have worked so hard, spent so many hours pouring over recipe books, gotten so many burns on your skin from boiling water, cried over dishes that didn’t turn out well no matter how hard you tried — it finally paid off.

Emotion rushes through you but you tamp it down with a deep breath. You need to focus. You need to be at the top of your game and show Agatha that you do deserve to be here.

It starts out easy enough. Roast prime rib au jus. Grilled yellowfin ahi. French onion soup.

Every so often, Agatha comes over and stands over your shoulder, close enough that you can feel her hot breath on your neck. It gives you goosebumps and you have to remind yourself to keep working.

“Good girl,” she says into your ear after you put a plate down of lobster bisque and that particularly makes a shiver run through you.

You find yourself getting a little distracted after that, your eyes following her across the kitchen wherever she goes and hoping that she comes back over to give you some more praise.

Agatha yells at someone else for using too much salt on a dish, dumping it off the plate into the trash and demanding the cook make a new plate, and you duck your head down when she looks over at you so she doesn’t see you watching. Too late.

You can almost feel her coming over to you, dread filling in your stomach as you wait. Is she going to get mad at you for not minding your own business? Everyone else here has seemed to learn how to.

Her front brushes against your back. “You seem a little on edge,” she murmurs and your heart skips a beat. “Don’t worry, hon. I won’t punish you — unless you deserve it.”

It makes your cheeks heat up and your hand shakes just as you’re carefully scooping a teaspoon of garlic salt out of the container. The spoonful drops onto the counter and Agatha chuckles from behind you before reaching around and swiping it onto the floor, effectively getting rid of the mess from your workspace.

If it was anyone else, would she have gotten mad? Maybe she’s just taking it easy on you because it’s your first day.

“No harm done,” she remarks and then she’s gone and you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding.

It’s almost fascinating to watch her work, to watch her sweep through the kitchen and check out everyone’s dishes, sprinkling in some advice and ingredients every now and then. She doesn’t hesitate to make someone redo something because it’s not good enough, but it surprises you that no one complains. If anything, they agree.

You suppose that’s the sign of a good Head Chef. They make you better. And when you’re blending all the ingredients of butternut squash soup together and Agatha comes over and wraps her arms around you, her hands on top of yours, to show you how to more effectively stir, you really do feel like you’ve learned something.

“She’s being really nice to you,” one of the other line cooks says while you’re both waiting for new orders to come in.

You shrug. “It’s my first day. Guess she’s just showing me the ropes.” The cook doesn’t look convinced, but there’s no time to think about it as you have to start making stuffed gnocchi.

The next few hours pass quickly. You barely have a chance to think as you’re running back and forth, grabbing things and throwing them into a pan and making sure they’re perfect. You’ve worked up a sweat and you find a few seconds to wipe the beads from your brow before you’re back to work.

But as the night stretches on, the orders come in less frequently as the rush dies down and soon you only have about twenty minutes left. Your final dish of the night is a raspberry walnut torte.

Because it’s almost closing time, about half of the cooks finished their shifts a while ago so it’s an intimate setting, just you, Agatha, and four others, everyone quietly moving around and trying to finish up the food they have left. You are absolutely exhausted and you cannot wait to go back to your apartment.

You’ve just finished your dessert and placed it on the rack at the window, finally feeling like you can relax.

And then Agatha’s voice cuts through the relative silence. “Who just made this torte?”

Your stomach drops and you sheepishly raise your hand. What did you do wrong?

She grabs a fork and pokes the slice and the center sinks down almost in slow motion. Fuck. “What temperature did you cook it at?” She asks and you think you could just combust with embarrassment on the spot.

“Three-sixty,” you rasp, and the moment you say it out loud, you realize your mistake. Tortes should be cooked at three-hundred and fifty degrees, and if they’re cooked too hot, the outside of it cooks faster than the inside.

Leading to a cracked or sunken torte.

“Chef, I’m sorry, it was a mistake,” you plead, panic and terror spiking through your blood. You were doing so good — now she was certainly going to fire you.

Agatha sighs, closes her eyes, and pinches her nose like she’s trying to decide what to do with you. When she opens them, the steely blue frightens you. “Make another one,” she says.

Your mouth drops open. “But it won’t be done in time,” you protest and she smirks.

“I know. I’m going to go out there and tell them that there was a mishap and that we won’t be able to get them their raspberry walnut torte that they were so looking forward to,” she says and it makes you feel even worse. “It won’t be pretty. You’ve just lost yourself and your fellow line cooks their tip. So the least you could do is show me that you do in fact know how to make a torte and that I shouldn’t fire you on the spot right now.”

She storms out of the kitchen and you make a tremendous effort to not look at any of the other cooks while you go back to your station and pull out the ingredients to make it again.

By the time Agatha comes back into the kitchen, it’s time for everyone else to go home. Shame burns your cheeks as they leave without saying goodbye to you and Agatha quietly sits on a stool and watches you work to finish the torte.

When you pull it out of the freezer where it’s been cooling for a few minutes, you feel like you could pass out on the kitchen floor right there.

Agatha pokes it with a fork again and you almost sob with relief when it doesn’t crack or sink. But it’s not over yet.

She takes her first bite and chews thoughtfully like she’s tasting for every single ingredient. “Adequate,” she says after she swallows. “But you’re still fired.”

“What?” You gasp, your heart skipping a beat. “No, please, Chef, it was an accident, I can make it, look!”

Agatha puts her fork down. “You fixed it this time. But how can I be sure it won’t happen again?”

“I promise, please — I’ll do anything,” you say desperately. “I’ll be careful, I won’t mess up again!”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrow raises and a slow smirk spreads over face. “Anything?” She asks.

You nod earnestly. “Anything!”

Agatha stands up so quickly it makes you step back from where you’ve been standing next to her. She cups your cheek and then slides her hand down to tap under your chin. “How about…” she muses, eyes looking you up and down. She looks hungry. “I give you ten spanks.”

“What?” Did you hear her wrong? Is she joking? She doesn’t look like she is.

“One spank for each degree hotter you cooked the torte at. It’s the only way you’ll learn,” she explains like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Bend over on the counter.”

Despite the sheer insanity at it, a heat rushes through your body. You wanted her attention earlier, didn’t you?

Seems like you have it now.

So you try to slow your racing heart and obey. Your forearms rest on the cool metal from where you pushed your sleeves up to work earlier and your head slightly hangs downward, waiting. There’s a little voice in the back of your head that says this is wrong, but you shut it down. You can’t get fired.

She unties the apron and lets it fall to the floor at your feet and you let out a small gasp.

“I’m a little disappointed in you, to be honest, hon,” she says as she pushes up your coat. It tears at your heart a little. “But I know that you’re going to make up for it. You’re about to take your punishment like a good girl and show me that you’re really committed to being here. Isn’t that right?”

You nod and try to ignore the burning in your stomach. What is she doing to you? “Yes, Chef,” you answer hoarsely and let out a little whimper when she yanks down your pants. You curse yourself for deciding to wear a purple thong. “What—”

“Shh,” she says and rubs your now-bare ass. You hate that you can feel your underwear sticking to you. Can she see it? “Count for me.”

And then she spanks you and it makes you jump. For some reason, you thought she’d at least ease into it a little, but the impact reverberates through you and makes you gasp.

“One,” you breathe and she chuckles.

The next three follow in quick succession, with Agatha waiting only long enough to hear you count.

After the fifth one, you’re squirming, head resting on your forearms to hide your tears, but the sting has ebbed into pleasure. You’re getting off on this.

And when Agatha makes a surprised sound and cups your pussy through your underwear, making your hips rock forward instinctively, you know that she knows. Her hand disappears quickly and you let out a little whine.

“All the best chefs like a little pain,” she remarks conversationally, spanking you again. You gasp out a “six” and she keeps talking. “It’s the only way to get better. To strive for greatness is to accept that it will hurt. I see your potential, I see how good you can be. Just keep working with me, honey, and I’ll get you there.”

She spanks you again but you can hardly feel it with the fuzziness that has crept into your mind at her words. Agatha Harkness, the best chef in the world, believes in you.

“Seven,” you remember to say after a moment and she tuts in your ear.

Agatha soothes the red skin and you relax for a moment before she slaps your ass again. “You’re doing so well for well, honey. Keep going to these lengths to impress me and rectify your mistakes and you could be my sous-chef in no time.”

The promise makes your head spin. “Eight,” you count when she slaps you again.

“Such a good girl,” she coos and you are aching. You need her to touch you more than anything.

Never in a million years did you imagine your first day would look like this.

She spanks you again. “Nine,” you croak, the feeling spreading throughout your body almost unbearable.

“Last one. And then I think you deserve a reward,” she purrs and slaps both your asscheeks at the same time, making you yelp.

Agatha gives you a moment to recover before pulling you up by your coat collar and turning you around and you gasp at how flushed she is. Her cheeks have a red tint to them, her bottom lip swollen — she must’ve been biting it — and her eyes have a heat that you saw earlier, when she fired the waiter.

But this is a different heat.

You’re sure you look the exact same.

She steps even closer to you and slides a hand into your underwear, making your jaw drop.

“God, you’re wet,” she taunts and you can’t even argue. She wastes no time shoving a finger into you and rubbing at your clit with her thumb and your arms wind around her shoulders for leverage.

“So I’m not fired?” You ask, and obviously there were a million other times that would’ve been better for that question, but it seems fitting.

Agatha laughs breathless and fits a second finger into you, making you moan. “You’re not fired, honey. We’re going to do great things together. Knew it the moment I saw you.” She curls her fingers roughly and you keen, tightening your grip around her. Your walls spasm around her and try to draw her in.

Her fingers feel absolutely delicious inside you, filling you just the way you needed to, and you can already feel the tension building in your lower stomach. The spanking got you close, her praise got you closer, and now the great hands of Chef Agatha Harkness are going to finish you off.

Your head falls back when she scissors her fingers, stretching you out and you hiss at the burn, and she chuckles while she takes in your thoroughly ruined state.

“What temperature do you cook a torte at?” She asks and you almost don’t hear it over the wet sounds coming from your pussy every time she thrusts inside you.

It takes you a moment to answer, but when you at last moan out “Three-fifty,” she smirks and bends down to nip at your neck over your collar. You tilt your head to the side to give her more access and she takes it all. She flicks her tongue against your clavicle and sucks, pulling another moan from your mouth.

You’re so close, the pleasure almost overwhelming, and your breathing has gotten faster, your heart rate through the roof.

The kitchen has been where you’ve felt most alive your whole life, nothing better than creating something from scratch and carefully curating it to make it into something new — is that what Agatha is doing with you? She plucked you out of your classmates from culinary school, gave a freshly graduated chef a job at her high end restaurant, turned up the heat, and is promising that under her, you’ll turn into a great chef.

Agatha twists her fingers and you moan, babbling something incoherently, and she rubs your clit harder.

“Cum for me,” she growls into your ear and thrusts her fingers inside you as far as they can go and you do — a whine falling from your lips as your pussy walls clench uncontrollably around her, tension exploding through your body.

She keeps fucking you through your orgasm and doesn’t stop until your breathing has evened out and you start to squirm away because of how sensitive you’ve become. And yet, you still whine when she pulls her fingers out of you.

Agatha lifts her fingers to her mouth and sucks on them, holding eye contact and moaning like she’s a world-class chef and you’re still the best thing she’s ever tasted.

You awkwardly adjust your underwear, pull up your pants, and clear your throat. Should you thank her for the fact that you still have a job? Or that she just fingered you in her restaurant?

“Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Agatha says before you try to break the silence. “You’re not going to make any more mistakes?” Her tone is teasing — you smile and shake your head.

“No, I promise.” Your voice is still a little raspy and it makes her smirk.

She grabs her purse and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you out of the kitchen and to the entrance of the restaurant. Her head tilts down and her forehead presses against your temple. “Good, cause I’d hate to have to punish you again.” Except Agatha doesn’t sound like she means that at all and it sears through you.

At least it seems like you have a little bit of job security, even though you don’t want to mess up any more. You’re going to prove to Agatha that you do deserve this job, that you can be as good of a chef as she thinks you can be.

She stops at the bottom of the stairs at the entrance and takes her arm around you, immediately missing the warmth it brought you.

“Good first day, honey,” she says with a wink and it makes your cheeks heat up.

And then she’s walking away and you stumble to your car while trying to figure out what the hell you just got yourself into.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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smolbeanie1221 · 1 day ago

Photo

I’m lucky enough to live in one of the light blue states, and I have family and a friend in one of the dark blue states. But I have no idea where things are going, how long my state will be relatively safe and I’ll be able to access things for transitioning when I start. I’ve already decided that if things go bad in my state, I’m moving to the dark blue state where I have family and a friend. My friend and I had jokingly over the summer talked about if I moved back there, we could get an apartment together. So I have a rough back up plan in place if needed.

But this map makes me so sad and angry to look at. I have family in Florida that I want to go see this spring, and I know I still look like my agab, so I know I wouldn’t have to worry about people freaking out that I’m trans or something. But I still don’t want to go to Florida simply because I know how bad it is there for queer people and I’m worried that there’s a small chance, I’ll just give off too much of a queer vibe to someone, or something like that happening. I don’t think it would happen, for once the fact I haven’t started transitioning yet is good. But still… it’s just so exhausting to think about.

I still remember about a year ago when I worked retail, at least every other week a customer would say “you’d be great working as x job,” and the one time a customer said “you’d be great working at Disney!” And I just paused and tried to give them a funny smile but I probably looked like I was kinda grimacing and I said “probably… but I wouldn’t be safe in Florida…” I can’t remember if I said that exactly, but that was the gist of it. I can’t remember how the customer replied, but after that conversation, I remember being stunned. I, a young American citizen, had a fear based response to the idea of working somewhere in the state of Florida, I knew it was a simple fact that I would not be safe living in that state. And I was thinking about how fucked up it was that my immediate reaction to the customer’s comment couldn’t have been, oh that sounds like fun! or anything along those lines, but instead my reaction was, fuck no I couldn’t live there because I wouldn’t be safe.

I know obviously no country is perfect, plenty of people across the world live in dangerous places, and I know that’s true in America too. But that was the first time I experienced that feeling, and it almost felt magnified because America is so often praised by its citizens as being the best place in the world to live, all men are equal, protections for minorities, etc. And yet here I was, in America, the country I was born in and raised with those same thoughts, vividly experiencing the complete opposite thing from what I should’ve been able to.

Anyways just where my thoughts took me when I saw the map this time, especially now that person is in office (I don’t even want to say his name) and I’m scared things will get so much worse all over the country.

Adult Transgender Legislative Risk Map, November 2024

#smol bean rambles #smol bean thoughts #smol bean rambles queer things #smol bean rambles trans things #trans stuff #lgbt #trans #transgender things #transgender

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mytherapyisreading14 · 1 day ago

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Drunk Confessions

Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)

Word Count: 4,6k

Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3

Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.

It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.

How are you?

I have the worst headache after last night

It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?

Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this

You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.

Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.

He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.

Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.

You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.

You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.

The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.

"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.

You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?

"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.

“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.

Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.

“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.

“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.

After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.

You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.

The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.

“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.

The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.

As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.

The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.

"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.

"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."

You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.

"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.

He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.

The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.

As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.

"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.

"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.

"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.

"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.

He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.

"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."

Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.

He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.

"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.

You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.

You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.

However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.

Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.

He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”

“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.

It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.

“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.

“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.

“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.

A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.

“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.

His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.

Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.

When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”

His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.

He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.

You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”

“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.

He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.

His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.

One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”

You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.

“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #professor reid #professor x student

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myth1cs · 3 days ago

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Soulmates (Hirai Momo & Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

I FINALLY finished writing this. I'm done, I'm never writing a one shot this long again.

Read part 1: Love Warning (smut)

Word Count: 7,004

1 month after the events of "Love Warning"

As you were sitting in your office you got a phone call on your office phone.

"Hello?"

"You know what I'm calling for Y/N."

You took a deep sigh, hung up the phone, and made your way to Momo's office.

Ever since you took back the job you quickly realized why you wanted to quit in the first place. The only thing keeping you was the promise of sex with your boss.

Knocking on her door you waited for her to say "Come in." before you went in. "Go ahead close the door and lock it for me Y/N." she told you and you obliged.

"What's wrong Y/N is something on your mind?"

"It's nothing." you state as you make your way over to her.

"You suck at lying just tell me Y/N."

"No really I'm fine."

"I won't let you lick my pussy ever again if you don't tell me what's bothering you. Now tell me what's wrong."

You sighed, there was no getting past her. "Look it's just that I feel like doing this job is wearing me down. The only thing keeping me here is-"

Momo cut you off "Shh no need to say more Y/N I understand. I'm sorry I never paid much attention to your needs. How about you take a week off and I'll have Mina cover your work. Will that work for you?"

"Would that really be fine?"

"It'll be fine. Don't worry I'll let Mina yell at me."

"But who will take over Mina's work?"

"I can do it."

"No Momo I can't take a break if it means that you will have a bigger work load."

"Y/N I'm your boss and it's my job to make sure your mental health is okay. So please let me do this for you."

You knew there was no convincing her otherwise.

"Alright."

"Go ahead and go home and I'll go ahead and call Mina to tell her about her work change."

"Thank you Momo."

You walked out the door and headed to your office to grab your things before you went home.

"H-Han? Why are you in my office?"

"I've been looking for you Y/N."

"Why?"

"I just wanted to check up on you. Lately you've been behaving a little more ... I don't know how to say this without it coming off as weird but I feel as if you've been a little more depressed recently. I just wanted to check up on you maybe ask if you wanted to hangout with me on my lunch break."

"Han I don't know what to say."

Even if you didn't say it you were a little touched by the fact that Ji-sung noticed your struggle. Even Momo who you saw every day didn't notice. Though it was likely that she didn't notice cause she was too busy giving you head.

"Shit did I miss the mark Y/N? I'm sorry that was unprofessional of me."

"No Han it's fine really. But I should tell you that I got a week off from work so my mental health should be fine."

"I'm glad to hear that. Just call me if you ever need someone to complain to."

"Will do."

Suddenly Han's phone buzzed and he pulled it out to check it.

"Damn it."

"What happened?"

"Lee Know is upset I didn't finish my work yesterday."

"Good luck with that."

Han left the room and you started to collect your things.

When you finished collecting your stuff you started heading out but before you could even make it out of your office doors you ran into yet another coworker.

"Mina what are you doing here?"

"So you're going on break for a week?"

Ignoring your question to ask her own ... typical.

"Answer my question first asshole."

"Feisty today huh? Would you do the same if I was Momo?"

"Quit yapping and get to the point."

"Don't you know patience is a virtue? But fine I'll cut to the chase, do you live alone Y/N?"

"Yeah I live alone."

"Good give me your address now."

"Why?"

"Don't you think it's time for you to call someone else your mommy? Momo is focused on giving you pleasure but no one has focused on giving you pleasure. I just want to give that to you."

"What's your relationship with Momo?"

"If you give me your address I'll answer your questions."

"I'll text it to you Mina."

"It wasn't that hard now was it Y/N?"

She smiled at you before she left your office.

You still had many questions to ask her. What was her relationship with Momo and why was she so interested in you?

"I'll think more about it when I get home." you thought to yourself.

Once you arrived home you went straight to bed exhausted from the work you've been doing without even bothering to change your clothes.

Before you could fall asleep you heard a knock coming from your front door not long after you laid down on your bed.

"Who the fuck is knocking, why can't they leave me alone?"

Getting up and making your way to the front door. You opened the door and saw Ji-min (Karina) on the other side.

"Karina why are you here and not at work?"

"Today is my day off. The real question is why are you here?"

"I'm on a week break."

"Why?"

You didn't want to tell more people than you should. Karina was the type of coworker that couldn't keep her mouth shut about anything. Not long after she mistakenly thought you hit on Mina she started to talk about it with everyone which started a rumor that you had a crush on Mina.

A few of your coworkers brought it up to you and you had to explain the situation to them. Though you were unsure if the rumors ever reached Momo or Mina.

"I just want a break from work."

"I feel that. So how's it going with Mina?"

"Karina!"

"What? I just want to know if you took any of the advice I gave you."

"Are you just here to bother me?"

"No I'm not, how about you let me in your house."

You moved out of the way and let her in. Karina walked in and walked around your house.

"It's rather small no?"

"Yeah, well I don't want a big place."

"Won't you get bored if you stay here all week?"

"I'll manage."

"Y/N that's sad. How about we go to an event at the end of the week?"

"Event?"

"There's an event going on tonight down the street called "Soulmates". A select few of people will be accepted and get the chance to mingle with others who were accepted."

"I'm not interested."

"Come on if your not going to talk to Mina you might as well try to see if you can get a girlfriend."

"I'll think about it."

"Today's the last day they'll take submissions though!"

"Whatever just sign me up yourself."

"No you have to do it yourself!"

"Why?"

"Because they'll want to interview you."

A low groan came out of your mouth and you knew Karina wouldn't leave you alone unless you agreed.

"Let's go then."

"Would it kill to be able to relax?"

...

Once you arrived at the place where the "Soulmates" event would be taking place Karina led you to the registration area.

There weren't as many people as you thought there would be but then again today was the last day so most people probably already signed up beforehand.

Once it was your turn you walked into the room and sat in front of a woman who was holding a clipboard.

"Please state your full name and what sex you identify as."

"Y/N L/N and I'm a guy."

"Do you prefer Men, Women, or Non-binary?"

"Uhm ... Women I think."

"What's your current occupation."

"I work as a secretary."

"Can you state for which company?"

"Tdoong Entertainment."

"A lot of applications from people who work there it seems." The woman said as she wrote on her clipboard.

"Wait there are others who signed up from the company?"

"Can you say who else who works at Tdoong Entertainment signed up for this event?"

"Sorry sir but I can't share that."

"That's fine."

"Anyways let's continue, so what would you say you're looking for in a partner?"

"Well..."

Once you finished answering all her questions she let you go and you met up with Karina.

"So how did it go?"

"I don't think they'll accept me."

"Why not?"

"I feel like she wasn't impressed by my answers."

"Don't say that Y/N I'm sure you'll be accepted."

"By the way the lady mentioned that other people from the company have signed up for the event. Do you know who else signed up?"

"Well other than me I have no idea who else could have signed up."

"I guess it's not my business regardless."

"Want to hangout at your place Y/N?"

As much as you wanted to tell Karina to go home you didn't want to sound rude by denying her offer.

"Sure let's go."

You and Karina headed back towards your house and you told yourself that you didn't really care if you got accepted. After all your having sex with Momo who you find attractive after all. Sure you both aren't "Official" but who cares?

Though you might not want to admit it you really wanted someone who could understand you and support you emotionally. You didn't care about sex with Momo, if she couldn't understand you were experiencing emotional distraught until you directly told her was she really your soulmate?

Once you both arrived at your house you went to sit on the couch and Karina followed you.

"So what are we doing Y/N?"

"Can you just leave me alone?" is what you wanted to tell her.

"Let's just watch a show yeah?"

"Okay, what do you want to watch?"

"How about you pick?"

Karina grabbed the controller sitting on the table and turned on your T.V. "What genre are you feeling?"

"Anything."

She gave you a sly smirk and put on a movie.

You didn't necessarily care about what she put on. Sitting back and closing your eyes trying to finally get some rest.

Unsure of how long you had your eyes closed you were suddenly waken up by the feeling that someone was wrapping their arms around you.

"Karina what are you doing?"

"Look at the movie Y/N."

Looking up to see the movie you saw it was a couple who were talking to each other in a bedroom.

"What about it?"

"Keep watching."

You kept your eyes on the movie but had issues hearing and watching the movie because you were still a bit hazy after waking up.

As the movie went on it suddenly turned explicit as the people in it were quickly discarding their clothes and were being intimate with each other.

It made you a little hot watching such an explicit movie to begin with but now you were watching it with a coworker.

Your cock was getting a bit hard and you were getting worried Karina would notice.

"Can we skip this scene? I'm not a big fan of explicit movies." You asked but Karina didn't answer your question.

Out of the blue you felt hands on your thigh. You looked down and saw that they were Karina's and they were inching closer to your cock.

You were getting nervous and tried to take her hands off of you but you weren't able to pry them off.

Karina's hands were now directly touching your clothed cock and your face was burning red. For the first time since her hands were on your thighs you turned to Karina.

"Y/N you know you can ask me for anything right?"

Unable to control your urges you latched your lips onto hers.

A heated exchange between both of you started and both of your tongues started exploring the others mouth living in the moment.

Your hands reached up for Karina's breasts and you gave them a firm squeeze which elicited a moan from her.

She wasn't about to forget about her own desires and started to rub your clothed cock which made you let out a low groan.

Now your heated exchange was getting sloppy with saliva pouring out of both of your mouths. You pulled away and now rubbed your tongue with Karina's as you changed your hand to the other breast and started to rub them.

You really wanted to tear off her clothes and feel her naked body. Karina however was already ahead of you. She started to pull up her shirt making it half way before you helped her take off the rest, throwing it, and leaving her in her black bra.

Reaching around her body you unclasped her bra letting them fall to the floor. Not wasting your chance you shoved your face in between Karina's breast and used one of your hands to squeeze her ass and the other you used to rub her clothed pussy.

"Ugh ~ Ah" Karina moaned. Her voice echoed throughout your house. Your tongue started to run all over Karina's massive breast and you were determined to make them sopping wet.

Karina moved her hands down your body and slid your pants off your body. She grabbed a hold of your hardened cock through your underwear and started to quickly pump it.

Your face was shoved so deep into Karina's breast that you were basically suffocating but in all honesty you wouldn't mind your final moments being spent in her breasts.

Karina however wasn't about to let that happen and pulled you away. You took a big gasp of air as you were finally able to properly breath for the first time since you shoved yourself in her breasts.

"Why did you pull me away?"

"There is still so much more pleasure to have."

Karina removed your underwear and her remaining clothing then proceeded to sit on your cock. "Ah your cock is stretching me out so damn good Y/N."

She started to ride you moving herself up and down. It drove you crazy how good her pussy felt.

"I bet Momo never fucked you this good!"

She could. But you didn't want to tell Karina that Momo fucked you better due to the fear that she might stop.

"Y-yeah ... totally."

Both of you were now sweating and you took the chance to lick her nipples which were being covered in her sweat. But did you even care?

"Your breasts are so soft and addicting."

"And you can play with them anytime Y/N. Just give me a call and I'll come right over."

Your cock was twitching and Karina took notice. She sped up her movements and you started to suck on her breasts harder.

Wrapping your hands around her body to pull her closer. The intense moment carried on for a few more seconds until both of you ended up cumming on each other.

Both of you were now sweaty and filthy. Your stress from your job seemingly faded as you released your cum into Karina's pussy.

The key word being seemingly. Truth be told sex was only a temporary fix. Eventually it would all come back again eventually and the stress would be stronger.

Though you weren't thinking of that at the moment. Your only concern was the woman who was sitting on you.

Karina stood up and reached out her hand to you.

"We're not done."

Even though you were exhausted you did want to have another round with her.

You grabbed her hand and she pulled you up. Both of you were having issues keeping balance while standing so you were both leaning on each other for support.

She led you to a wall and bent over for you. "Go ahead and fuck my ass Y/N."

Shoving your hardened cock into Karina you messed up her insides. Thrusting in and out at a rapid pace you were fondling with her breasts as you messed up her insides.

"Why do I listen to you so much?"

"Y/N is now really the time to ask these questions?"

You gave her breasts a rough squeeze.

"I just don't know if going to the soulmates event is a good idea."

"You're never going to get the chance to go if you don't cum in me."

Forcing yourself as deep as possible into her ass you came inside of her. Your cum was spilling out of her making a small puddle on the floor.

You pulled out and made your way back to the couch to fall asleep.

There was a loud banging on your door that woke you up. You checked the time and saw it was 2:30 AM. Who could be at your door at this hour.

Making your way to your door you opened the door and saw Mina on the other side.

"Why are you here?"

Mina's face went a little red.

"Why do you sleep naked?"

"What are you-"

You looked down and noticed that you didn't have clothes on. Suddenly you remembered that you had sex with Karina.

Quickly closing the door you rushed to your room and quickly put some clothes on. "Karina must have left after I fell asleep."

Going back downstairs to open the door for Mina and let her in your house.

"So do you sleep naked or were you having a one night stand?"

"Neither."

You led her to your kitchen and both of you took a seat.

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Whatever, I'm here to answer your questions that you've had for me. After all that was apart of the deal for you giving me your address."

"Oh yeah."

"So what do you want answers to."

"How did you know Momo was going to have sex with me?"

"Are you talking about the first time you came to talk to me in my office?"

"Yes."

"I have history with her."

"What history?"

"Well ..." She took a deep sigh.

"I didn't think I'd ever tell anyone this but I guess I have to now."

You were still sleepy after getting woken up at night but you forced yourself to stay awake. You had to know more about Mina.

"Look before you were hired I had your position. I dealt with the same shit you have to right now and just like you I got tired of the job. I was going to quit and similar to you she begged me to stay ruining her health all for the sake of the company."

She suddenly stopped talking. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "Do you mind if I grab a glass of water?"

"Go ahead."

Mina got up and got herself a glass of water. Taking a sip before she continued.

"I was worried about her just like you."

"So does she do this with everyone?"

"I don't know but I don't think so."

"What happened next?"

"Well I did the same thing you did. And she also had sex with me just like you. She promised to do it with me whenever as long as I stayed. But then you were hired."

Mina gripped the glass cup. Taking another sip before continuing.

"Since you had more qualifications than me I got demoted and the deal I had with Momo was off and her focus was all on you."

"Is that why you didn't care about her?"

"Yes that's exactly why. Truth be told I only offered having sex with you for my own benefit."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I figured that if you preferred having me over Momo then I could convince you to quit and I would be able to be her secretary again. That way I could have Momo to myself."

"Wait were you just going to leave me after you did all this."

"You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"Yes I would have left you if my plan succeeded."

"I appreciate the honesty but damn."

"Well I originally came her to have sex with you but I'm sure you don't to after hearing it is only for my benefit."

"We could do it for fun."

"Yeah right Y/N. No offense but I don't like men."

"I understand. You're free to sleep here though I'm sure your tired."

"No I'm good."

"Suit yourself."

"I'll see you next week Y/N."

"See you."

Mina left your house leaving you alone once again.

"Guess I can scratch her off my potential "Soulmate" list."

The next day came and you weren't sure what to do. You settled on laying on your bed watching a movie when you suddenly received a message on your phone.

"Congrats Y/N you've been accepted to attend the "Soulmates" event happening at the end of the week! For further details please click on the link attached to this message"

You looked at the message and finally made your decision.

"I'm going to the Soulmates event."

The week flew by and you were waiting for the day the soulmates event would start.

On the day before the event was going to start you heard a knocking on your door. You went to open the door and to your surprise you saw Momo.

"Momo? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I'm having someone else cover it. Besides I think we need to talk anyway."

"Talk about what?"

"You see I've been thinking and ... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"What could you possibly be sorry about?"

"I should have realized you were struggling much sooner. And since I didn't I feel like I've been neglecting you in that way."

Your eyes softened. You never blamed anything on Momo after all you were the person who made the decision to stay.

"Don't say that Momo none of what I've been going through was your fault."

"But it is my fault."

You pulled Momo into a hug and held her tightly into your arms.

"Don't say that Momo. You have done nothing wrong but I wouldn't mind if you paid a little more attention to me."

She hugged you back and smiled.

"I can do that for you."

"Thank you."

"Hey Y/N I know that the company is going to be closed tomorrow but I won't be able to be with you tomorrow."

"That's fine I'll be busy myself tomorrow also."

"Really what for?"

"Personal things."

"Okay well take care alright."

"I will."

"See you back to work Y/N! And hopefully with a better mental state."

Today was the day the soulmates event was scheduled to happen. You got yourself ready beforehand and were now making your way to the event.

Once you found a parking space you started getting a little anxious. "What if I'm not satisfied with my soulmate? Or what if I don't even get one?" You thought to yourself but you tried to reassure yourself that everything will be fine.

You got out of your car and made your way inside. Once you stepped in you were directed to a room where other participants were.

"The event will start in just a few minutes sir. Feel free to chat with the others though."

Once you were in the room the quickly recognized a few of the people who showed up.

"Momo, Mina, Han, and Karina are all here?"

You didn't recognize the others.

You sat down at a chair next to someone you didn't know.

"Hey my name is Choi Ji-su but you can just call me Lia. What's your name?"

"Names Y/N nice to meet you Lia."

"Based off looks who do you have your eyes on?"

A bit out of the blue question and you weren't sure how to answer.

"Well ... no one really. I think everyone looks equally beautiful."

"That's such a boring answer you know."

"Well who do you have your eyes on?"

She pointed at a girl who was sitting at the far left.

"Her."

You looked at the girl Lia pointed to and you have to admit she was attractive.

"Hello everyone I'd like to welcome you all to today's soulmate event. Everyone here was selected by us. We wanted people who were different to have a chance to mingle with each other. Hopefully you all find a soulmate."

As the woman scanned the room she suddenly had a look on her face. "It seems someone didn't show up. I'm afraid to say that one of you will be walking away without a soulmate."

Everyone started to make their own count and realized she was right. A feeling of worry overcame everyone, after all no one wanted to be the person who left without a soulmate.

"Well regardless we'll move on. So first we'll let everyone have a chance to introduce themselves and then we can move on."

She left the room and everyone looked around to see if anyone would take the lead.

"Well I guess I'll start and we can just go left. Hello my name is Myoui Mina."

"My name is Kaito Yuki."

"Hirai Momo."

"Han Ji-sung."

"Yu Ji-min but I go by Karina."

"Kim Nam-joon but you can call me RM."

"Y/N L/N."

"Choi Ji-su but you can also call me Lia."

"Hwang Yeji."

The women walked back into the room and handed everyone a piece of paper and a pencil.

"Alright everyone I've given you a piece of paper and a pencil. Based on first impressions write down someones name. The person who has the most votes will get to choose 2 people to have lunch with on the top floor. Everyone else will eat here in the dining room. Feel free to write your own name. Give me your paper once you write down a name."

Nobody wrote down a name right away. It seems like everyone is putting some thought into their choice.

Yeji was the first to write a name down and give it to the lady. Afterwards more people started writing names and turning them in. Only a few people still hadn't written a name and you were one of them.

You were struggling to pick someone. There was no way you could find your soulmate based on luck.

"If I had to pick based off my limited interactions then I would have to pick..."

"The winner of the popular vote is Mrs. Myoui Mina. Mina once you pick the two people you want to take to lunch with then our staff can escort you to your room."

After Mina quickly scanned the room it wasn't long for her to pick.

"Momo and Y/N."

All three of you were led upstairs and into a room. "Feel free to have a moment to look over our menu. I'll be back in a bit to take your orders."

You and Momo sat next to each other while Mina sat across both of you. The room was silent, everyone was waiting to see who would be the one to speak up first. The silence was deafening.

Momo eventually cleared her throat.

"So Mina why'd you pick us?"

"I feel that I need to ... 'discuss' a few things with you."

"Uh-uhm."

"What are you talking about?"

You stayed silent.

Mina let out a sigh "Momo ... I love you so much. I don't want you to be with Y/N anymore."

Momo's cheeks turned red.

"I - I didn't know you felt that way Mina."

"You're so pretty Momo will you be mine?"

"What's pretty about me?"

"Your soft well kept hair, pretty face, and those massive set of-"

"Screw it Mina I can't wait any longer: kiss me."

Mina got up from her seat and rushed over to Momo. Her tongue slid into Momo's mouth. She put her hands inside of Momo's shirt, sliding her hands up and feeling Momo's abs.

"You're so strong Mo."

Momo smiled at Mina's compliment. She wrapped her hands around Mina's head and pulled her as close as she could.

Unsure of what you should be doing you kept watching the scene unfold in front of you. Part of you felt weird for watching them be intimate with each other but the other part of you couldn't muster up the will to look away. But you couldn't help but notice the difference in the way Momo had sex with you and how she's having it with Mina.

Mina raised her hands up Momo's body. Momo moaned into her mouth as she did so.

Before Mina could finish her foreplay a knock came on the door.

Quickly Mina got off Momo and rushed back to her seat.

"Have you three decided on your order?"

Mina and Momo were chatting with each other while you just kept your thoughts to yourself. Momo noticed and decided to rope you into their conversation.

"You want to join us next time Y/N?"

Looking up you saw Mina made a face of disgust at Momo.

"Why are you asking Y/N if he wants to join without asking me first? I don't want to have a threesome with a fucking guy."

"Mina it's rude to invite Y/N and not include him."

"I only invited him here because he was the only other person I knew. I'm not about to have some stranger watch us have sex Momo."

"But Mina-"

"What are you telling me you actually like men?"

"Well no but I kinda made a deal with him."

"Psh fine."

Momo leaned towards you and whispered into your ear. "Between you and me you're not that bad."

Not that bad?

"Th-thanks I guess."

"By the way Y/N if your filthy cock even lightly brushes me I will rip it off your body with my bare hands."

"R-right I understand."

"Damn Mina that's more harsh than I ever went with you or Y/N."

Before the next round of voting everyone had to make a gift and give it to someone. The three options were making a ring, mug cup making, and making a perfume.

Making a mug sounded bland but you weren't confident in being able enough to make a ring so you settled on making a perfume.

You sat alone for a long time and were a bit worried you were the only one to pick it until you heard footsteps coming into the room.

"It was Y/N right?"

"Kaito why are you here?"

"Couldn't leave you alone here."

"Well thanks for keeping me company."

"No problem."

You didn't want to sit in silence for the whole time so you decided to make some small talk.

"So where are you from?"

"I'm from Fujioka. I'm a student there actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah ... so where are you from?"

"I'm from ..."

"I've never been there but I'm sure it's nice."

"So who are you interested in?"

"Probably Karina, she was really caring and nice at the lunch we had. What about you, who are you interested in?"

"That's a hard question."

"Why's that? Momo and Mina had lunch with you did neither of them peak your interest?"

"More like they peaked each other's interest."

"Lesbians?"

"Yeah."

"That's good for them. But I guess you're a bit disappointed huh?"

"Its not that I'm just worried that I won't find someone."

"I understand how you are feeling. But maybe the person who your supposed to end up with is someone you haven't met or someone who you're least expecting."

"I don't know Kaito. I mean I was kind of in a relationship but I didn't feel happy afterwards. Only certain moments brought me joy."

"Well maybe you should look for different people. Those who can give you those feelings of happiness as much as possible."

"Thanks for the advice. I'll try to keep it in mind."

You couldn't say someone has necessarily brought you true "happiness". But then again...

When it was time to give someone your gift you thought back to Kaito's words.

Who has brought you the most happiness? Is that even measurable? But when you looked at their eyes. You felt relief almost a calming feeling. You walked up to them and handed them the perfume you made.

"Is this for me?"

"For you."

"Th - thank you Y/N I don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting this from you."

You simply smiled when you looked at their face.

"No problem. Besides I don't think I've felt better than when I was able to be around you."

Before getting to have everyone pick a soulmate everyone got a chance to talk to someone they wanted to.

Everyone picked the person they had their eyes on and it slowly reached your turn.

"Y/N Momo has requested to speak to you."

"Coming!"

You were led to the room and were left alone with Momo.

"Why'd you request to speak to me?"

"Y/N I know we talked yesterday but I just wanted you to know that I'll try harder for you."

"What are you saying?"

"I - I know you probably don't want me as your soulmate. But I just want you to know that I know I can't pick up on minor details but if you ever wanted to be in a relationship with me then I'd try harder to understand your emotions."

"Momo ... what about Mina?"

"I love her. But I was hoping you'd be okay if I switched between you and her."

You were second to last and you took your chance to talk to Lia a bit more. You weren't expecting your name to be called but to your surprise.

"Y/N someone has requested to speak with you."

"Who could possibly request to speak with me?" you thought to yourself. Momo is the only person who you had a romantic connection with so you weren't sure who would call your name.

"H - Han?!"

"Y/N its been a while huh?"

"Why'd you call me up here?"

"Well I just thought I'd get your advice on something."

"Go on."

"Well I was speaking to Karina but I also have been getting close with Yeji. I just don't know who to go for."

You chuckled

"Why are you laughing?"

"I just never thought I'd see you so worried about a relationship."

"Come on I can be fun to!"

"When you first asked to hangout with me I thought you would take me to a brothel."

"Y/N you wound me. You think I'd go to a brothel?!"

"You wouldn't?"

"Unless your taking me I don't think I would. Would you go to one?"

"Who knows maybe I'd go if you were there."

Han's face went a bit red.

"Oh how romantic, I see why Momo likes you Y/N."

"Come on you have to admit that it wasn't that bad of a line!"

The way people would pick there soulmate was the following:

One contestant would stand in front of the room looking away from everyone else.

The people who want to be with that person would stand behind them.

The person at the front would then turna round and pick who they want to be their soulmate.

Since only 9 people were there it seemed like one person would go home alone.

It was Mina's turn and only you and Momo were left.

"Let's go Y/N." Momo reached out her hand to you.

Begrudgingly you took her hand and both of you stepped up.

When Mina turned around she was a bit disconsolate to find out Momo was holding hands with you. She knew that if she wanted Momo you would have to also be there.

"Is it fine if I pick these two?"

The staff was rather surprised. No one has ever asked to take two people at the same time.

"Well ... I don't see why not."

Both you and Momo rushed up to Mina and hugged her.

"Ugh you idiot get off me."

Momo let go and backed away.

"No not you the other idiot!"

You couldn't help but laugh.

All three of you went to Momo's house after the "Soulmates" event ended.

"I don't get why you want Y/N to be a part of this Momo."

"I owe it to him."

"Just don't come near me Y/N."

Momo and Mina started undressing.

They both wanted to have sex but Momo didn't want to leave you behind.

You started to take your clothes off and Mina looked away.

"At least do it out of my eye sight!"

Once you all got undressed Momo jumped onto Mina.

"Mina you have such a pretty face. Will you let me ruin you?"

"Do whatever you want."

Momo started to give her hickeys. Roughly pressing her lips onto Mina and sucking to mark her. Mina rubbed her fingers on Momo's abs. They weren't as defined as hers but she loved them regardless.

"Your body is so precious Momo I'm so glad I can have you."

Not wanting to be left out you made your way onto the bed, being careful to not accidentally touch Mina and grabbed onto Momo's breasts while having your cock pressed against her back.

"Uh I love your hands Y/N!"

"Your breasts are so big Momo I want you so badly."

Momo had a rather big ego now that both you and Mina were fighting to give her pleasure.

Mina kicked you off the bed and wrapped her legs around Momo's waist. "Don't pay attention to him. Focus only on me."

She pulled Momo in closer and their breasts were pushed up against each other. "Mina I love you." Momo said as she reached for Mina's ass.

You got back on the bed and penatrated Momo's ass with your cock which made her yelp.

"Agh!"

"Momo are you okay?"

"I'm fine Mina."

Momo went down to Mina's breasts and started licking her nipple. "Your body tastes sweet."

"It's only for you to use Momo. Please use my body however you want."

Mina pressed her fingers on Momo's clit lightly and got Momo to moan. She felt the vibration on her nipples.

You sped up your thrusts into Momo's ass and Momo put her fingers into Mina.

"Please Momo go faster I want to cum on your pretty fingers."

Momo smiled and ran her fingers down Mina's sides. "Mina I want to enjoy your body as long as I can."

Mina was breathing rapidly.

Momo switched her attention to Mina's other nipples and started to squeeze the other.

She inserted 4 fingers into Mina and she took in a big breath of air.

"Ah! Momo keep going!"

She started to thrust in Mina at a steady pace and Mina started seeing stars.

Pulling your cock out of Momo you went next to her and pulled her head up.

"What do you-"

She wasn't able to finish speaking before you pressed your lips onto hers.

"Your lips are so soft."

You rubbed your tongue around her lips and Momo put her hand into Mina's mouth making her gag.

Mina's gagging faded into the background as your kissing intensified.

You stood on the bed aligning your cock to Momo's face. Momo took your cock in her warm mouth and ran her tongue around your hard cock.

She was sloppy with it making your cock wet and slippery making it easier to slide in and out of her mouth. You grabbed Momo's head and shoved her into your cock.

Tears ran down Momo's eyes and she was choking on your cock.

Mina wasn't happy with you stealing Momo's attention. She shoved four fingers into Momo.

She was getting overstimulated. Momo got your cock out of her mouth to get a breath of air. She choked up a lot of spit and it fell onto the bed sheets.

"Put your filthy cock back in your pants Y/N. This doesn't involve you."

Mina grabbed Momo and dragged her on top of her body wrapping her arms around her. She switched their positions so she was on top of Momo.

Putting one hand on Momo's breast and using her other hand to shove her fingers in Momo's tight pussy. Thrusting rapidly so she reaches her high faster.

"Mina your so-"

"Perfect? I know Momo don't worry you'll start seeing stars soon."

She sucked on her nipples twirling her tongue on her boob. Momo loved how Mina used her body.

"Momo your so perfect."

She came on her fingers and Mina licked her fingers. "Mhm you taste amazing Momo. I only want to eat this every day."

Momo was glad with the worship she was receiving and started to repay her. Momo put her pussy on top of Mina and shoved her fingers in her again.

Mina licked her pussy shoving her tongue deep into her. Momo couldn't handle it and gave up on thrusting in Mina and started to lick her pussy also.

This scene in front of you was making you horney to the point you started to pump your own cock to make yourself cum.

Momo came all over Mina's face. Mina squished Momo's butt while licking all of Momo's cum that she could reach with her tongue.

Not too long after Mina came all over Momo and she passed out afterwards.

"Momo that was amazing."

"I know Y/N. Want help with that?"

You nodded your head and Momo once again started sucking your cock. She used her hand to fondle your balls.

"Do you really think a three way relationship can work?"

"Of course Y/N I'm your soulmate just as much as I am Mina's."

Pulling out your cock, semen covered Momo's face.

You collapsed into her and she wrapped you around her arms collapsing onto the bed.

"I'll take care of you from now on Y/N."

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

Can you find out who Y/N gave his gift to?

Starring: You Mina, Momo (Twice) Karina (Aespa) Han (Stray Kids) Yeji, Lia (Itzy) Kaito (Jujutsu Kaisen Phantom Parade) RM (BTS)

I apologize if towards the end the pacing felt more rushed. I got tired of working on this and just wanted to move on.

I didn't even proof read this because I'm just so sick of this.

#twice #twice smut #smut #twice x reader #twice imagines #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #momo smut #mina smut #karina smut #aespa smut

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cherie-doll · 2 days ago

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Can I request COD Men dating a medic reader,??

I love your writing sm ^-^

Ofc!

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

COD Men x Medic!Reader

Price

Imagine being the new medic and you're nervous because it's your first time working there so you have to try your best to hold it together while patching people up

But one day Price comes in injured and you have to control your nerves as you clean his wound up, he's surprisingly nice and even makes small talk with you, it calms you down

After, you manage to keep thinking about that interaction, just how nice it felt to have a normal conversation, it took your mind off of things and honestly it kept you from a mini panic attack from happening

He wishes he could come see you more often, he liked how refreshing it felt to meet someone who seemed a little hesitant, too afraid to mess up, he likes how you smiled after speaking with him

Since he's busy most of the time he can't come to you as often, but I imagine he likes to invite you to just come and talk to him as you drink with him, it's comforting knowing you can bask in his company and he provides you a shoulder to rest on

Ghost

Believe it or not he trusts you a lot, he shows up to your office in his most vulnerable moments, when he's hurt you treat him and never mention anything of it, he knows it's just you doing your job but he can't help but feel like there is an underlying tone to it

He likes resting in your office or recovery room when he wants to get away from everyone else but can't find a quiet place to do so, he likes his alone time and if being in the medic's room where no one is to come in looking for him then he'll stay there during his free time

He secretly started growing a stronger liking to you when you covered for him and told his buddies they couldn't visit because he "needed to rest", not that he hates his friends he just likes his alone time

He often struggles to sleep so to get away from the other soldiers who snore loudly he'll come to you knowing you're almost always up late and drinking tea, like a cat who is content sitting without talking or doing anything next to you and eventually falls asleep

You tend to admire him silently, the features that you can see through his balaclava when he's not aware of it

Soap

Every time he comes to get checked up he likes making you laugh and telling you the worst jokes, but it makes you laugh lightly and honestly keeps you awake and sane from working overtime since you treat a lot of emergencies

He will be laughing as if he doesn't feel the alcohol you're using to disinfect his wound, he likes pretending like he doesn't feel pain when you push the needle in because he doesn't want to be weak in front of you, it's sort of turned into you trying to make him wince or show that it hurts but he tries grits his teeth and holds it in

Doesn't even know he likes you like that until others are teasing him about how often he talks about you and how he'll try to impress you, in his mind he hasn't come to that realization yet, not that he's denying it because he really enjoys your company

You probably get very nervous checking his eyes when you shine the flashlight on them because you notice the way his eyes crinkle, indicating he's smiling and you have to hold the grin before it shows on your face

As a boyfriend he'd be coming by every moment he can to just cling to you when you're on your breaks and you'll have a hard time getting him to leave you alone or give you some space

Gaz

I can imagine him already having a liking to you, he likes coming by every morning that he can to visit you before anyone else can bother you and just hanging around your office when he's in need of good company

You enjoy his company because he's not unnecessarily flirty like other the others are, he's respectful, caring about your mental health because you deal with so many people on the daily but with him it's different, you don't feel that obligation to smile or put on a fake act around him

Your tired eyes light up seeing him knowing you're going to be recharged emotionally and mentally, it's come to the point where you even seek him after your work is done hoping to spend more time with him

It's sort of hard finding time alone together when so many other people are friends with him yet the moment he sees you he'll pull away from everyone else to go to you

Roach

I have a hc that even if he survives the absolute worst situations no one else has he still deals with the aftermath of it and it's many complications and frequently getting checkups from you just to assure his health is good enough to keep getting sent out to missions

He ends up spending more time with you than he does with most of the other soldiers or members of the task force

He confides so much in you, things he'd never share with anyone else and yet you listen to him so attentively it honestly makes him develop an attachment to you and he'd look for any opportunity to reciprocate the attention you give him

You sometimes hate the way others treat him, despite being a chill guy to be around he's often a little out of orbit when it comes to socializing with the others, you'd think going through shit together would unite them but strangely enough he doesn't get enough dopamine from them like he does with you

It might be wrong to feel this way but you care more about him than all the others, you'll rush to attend his needs before the others

Alejandro

He is actually a very lousy patient, it takes you ages to try to get him to take medication or inject the needle into him despite him always teasing the other soldiers who have had medical procedures done to them

You have to be ready with a cloth and ice pack to instantly place on him or else he'll be wanting to bang his head against the wall for the dramatics, you let him hold your hand, anything to bring him comfort or some sort of relief at that point

To avoid getting to that level of pain he'll often drink before coming to you so he's not fully in his senses to actually feel or register anything you may be doing that would usually cause him to panic, you hate when he does this because you prefer him to be fully aware

Other than that he'll always try flirting with you or calling you something like "chula" in Spanish when passing by you and you simply roll your eyes and hide a smirk knowing he's nothing like that when you approach with a needle

Rudy

He's probably known you since before you were a medic, he's seen how much effort you've put into your training to be where you are today he respects you so much for it

He worries so much for you, probably more than you do for him which is funny because he has the "riskier" job, but he often worries about how you are being treated knowing some of the soldiers you treat have trauma and it can make you very stressed with them

He makes sure you get your much needed rest, especially during the breaks everyone else is gone and you still have to stay around "just in case"

There was this one time he was injured pretty badly and he had to be laid down as someone called the medic, he didn't know who would come but he felt his heart skip a beat seeing it was you running towards him, you knelt by his side and with a warm smile reassured him you wouldn't let him slip away from your grasp just yet

He didn't even need a painkiller when he held your hand to his chest so you could feel how much his heart beat showing you he was still alive and well

Phillip Graves

He could be dying on the bed, clutching a wound with blood gushing out and he'll still manage to give a smug smile and ask for your number, you want to suffocate him with a pillow sometimes but you'll most likely be blamed for medical malpractice, instead you just say "HIPPA" and that shuts him up for now

I like to think he brings his Shadows for checkups like a father bringing his children to the pediatrician, some of them aren't fond of it but he makes them go through it to ensure they are healthy and fit for their next mission or training

If one of his Shadows get severely injured he's rushing to see you with them in his arms (he can't actually carry them have you seen how big his Shadows are??) and begging you to help them, will literally be in tears hoping they heal up just fine and that nothing bad ends up happening

Afterwards, you just kinda have to give him that reassurance and he'll be eternally grateful to you for what you do for him and his team, and don't think that just because you aren't "that important" to his company because he makes sure you feel like a vital member of the family

Him and the Shadows will enjoy spending time with you outside of your work area just to show their appreciation

Makarov

You often worry about him, more than you should, he's always taking risks and needed to end up being brought into your office to have something done to him, you can only sigh and lecture him but he's never the type to take his injuries seriously, most of the time he takes bold decisions and that impacts his health

Most of the time he prefers having you go to him, so you have to pack your stuff up and go treat whatever he's dealing with, he often uses these opportunities as excuses to get to know you better and just overall toy with you

You hate when he does this as it wastes time and he's keeping you away from patients who could be needing treatment, whenever you hint at this he simply shrugs it off, clearly not caring about others

You carry so much responsibility on your shoulders to be carelessly leaving where you're stationed to treat a paper cut, but after all he always slips in something extra to keep you coming

Keegan

Loves to initiate arguments with you for the fun of it, you two will be bickering over him not wanting to take a prescription you've given him

You could be stressing over an infected cut and he's trying to act as if it were nothing, that being said the sounds he makes when he's injured and grunting and clutching his arm or side in pain and trying to control his breathing have me AKJERUJS-

He doesn't actually get to see you all that often as he wishes but you know he'll be coming to get "treated" when he comes back from a mission, he always thinks to come see you before anyone else can

And he knows you're often at risk too when you have to go along to treat sick and injured soldiers, he doesn't like to dwell too much on how you could be in danger so he just chooses to focus on his task knowing if he's not careful he won't be able to make it back to tease you again

König

He's the type to rarely go to the medic just because wounds on his body heal insanely fast but also because you will have to FORCE this man to enter your office

He was used to his the previous medic, an older man who took his time with each patient, could barely see which is why he often told the soldiers who came to him to read the medicine labels for him and such

But imagine his surprise when he walks into your office and sees a younger medic there instead of the old medic, he's completely silent as he sits in the chair waiting for you to clean a wound he only came because the pain got so bad he couldn't suppress it

Now he's considering saying he's fine and walking out, but you're already washing your hands and putting gloves on, going over to him and asking for him to show you the injury

He has to look away and his eyes roam the room, looking for something to focus on other than your focused stare, and gentle fingertips that hover over his skin as you inspect the wound that he could have ignored for a little longer

Horangi

He is a headache to deal with, comes in after every mission to get his injuries treated but will talk A LOT, mostly boasting and smug explaining how he got this bruise and those cuts

You're tired of hearing him but honestly you'll take whatever as a distraction, and you know he's BUILT like that man will be flexing his biceps and you can't help but stare at them, also his waist?!?

Before leaving he always jokes for you not to miss him incase he doesn't come back from the next mission, you just roll your eyes because you don't want to admit that he's grown on you and his absence is something you don't even want to think about

He likes sending you notes with flirty messages on them to show his growing interest in wanting to pursue a relationship with you because you never give in to letting him have your number, he always wants to take you out to some fancy restaurant or cook for you himself, anything to get you out of your office for a day and spend it with him alone

Nikto

You're often doing a million things at once, quickly treating a patient and ushering them out so you can see the next one who's grunting as they wait in line, that day Nikto has to get something treated and he just so happens to go on a busy day

You're in a rush to treat your patients in pain but he notices some of them aren't even in pain, they seem to have relaxed looks on their faces and they don't have any wounds that he can see, they even joke and laugh with one another

Turns out some of them are only there to chat with you, as happens most of the time with soldiers who are stationed in one place too long with little to no freedom to roam anywhere else, Nikto doesn't understand why they would waste your time when it's finally his turn to see you and you tenderly yet efficiently treat him

He likes the way you touched him, even if it was only you doing your job, he likes your pretty eyes, even if you barely looked at him, he thinks your voice is precious to hear, even if you only used it to direct a single question to him, now he understands those soldiers in line who don't mind waiting an hour just to be with you for a moment

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