#Just sharing this dumb thing between working on replies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepyparalysisdmon · 1 month ago

Text

Touch Me I'm Going to Scream

Seungcheol and Y/N have never been friends. Never, not even when they started training at their new jobs on the same day. They’re competitive and they love to correct each other’s work in a brutal fashion. That’s what keeps them at work late one Thursday night.

Pairing: Seungcheol x female reader

Genres: enemies to lovers, smut, office au

Word count: 5k

TW/CW: MDNI, this contains explicit smut and no mention of protection. If you have some claustrophobia, this one might not be for you.

Y/N hates Choi Seungcheol. That’s the only explanation for why her head feels like it’s about to burst. She hates him for how massive his ego is. She hates him for how smug he is everytime he can one-up her. And she hates how she can’t read his fucking handwriting.

That’s the biggest thing right now. The report he’s slapped onto her keyboard is redlined brutally, but she can’t make out a single word of what he’s written in the margins. It’s like he does it on purpose when he’s assigned to proof-reading something for her. His handwriting is perfectly legible on a whiteboard when it’s his turn to lead team meetings.

He’s already plopping back into his chair to continue spinning his pen between his fingers. That’s what he was doing before Y/N had slapped the report draft on his desk thirty minutes ago. While he was bleeding all over this report, she was busy working on another one. For some reason, her workload was more than his this week, as it often is.

Y/N throws the report back down on her desk tempermentally, glaring at him cross the double cubicle. “You could at least make it legible. I don’t know what the fuck any of this says, Seungcheol.”

“We’ve worked together for four years, Y/N. You should know how to read it by now,” he replies boredly, not even bothering to turn his chair to face her. But she can see the smirk in his profile. Ugh.

Y/N huffs, rubbing her tired eyes. Her makeup is long gone, save few for a few crusts of mascara. It’s nearly 10pm and the two reports that have been cycled between them are due tomorrow, along with a presentation. Which reminds her. She whips around to him. “The least you could do is start the slide deck. The finalized graphics are in the shared folder.”

“Slide deck is pretty much done,” he says, still sounding bored. “Just waiting on you to fix your wording so I can add it to the slides.”

Y/N resists the urge to bang her head against the keyboard. It would do as much good as trying to understand his handwriting. But she refuses to ask him for help. She only asks him to markup and review things for her because it’s part of his job description, same as hers.

They’re both junior team leads for their department. The company’s structure attracted her initially when she accepted the role. Each department has a senior team lead, but this senior team lead is supposed to hand down assignments for the juniors to deliver. There are two of them because they believe in learning through collaboration here.

She liked the idea until she met Seungcheol on her first day. His competitiveness killed any sense of teamwork.

Y/N puts on her glasses and squints at the paper, making the edits that she believes make sense. She knows he’s not dumb, far from it. If he’s marked something up, that means it needs some attention. She just doesn’t always know what kind of attention, so she guesses.

With some satisfaction, Y/N slaps the report fresh off the printer onto Seungcheol’s desk. She walks away before she smacks him when he grins, “So you can read.”

“But you can’t write. Work on that so I can bleed all over your report next time.”

“But you’re so good at it. That’s why you get stuck with so many reports and I get stuck with all the slide decks and presentations.”

The comment burns her up inside. She must not be so good at it if he bleeds all over the pages everytime she hands him something to review. And the slide decks and presenations are a sore spot for her. He’s far better at public speaking than she is, but everytime they step foot in the conference room, it looks like Seungcheol’s done all of the work. She doesn’t reply to him and she hears the pen click behind her.

When he hands it back to her, there are only a few markups, and those have blessedly legible notes. Maybe he’s in a rush to get out of here. She makes the edits quickly and prints the copies for the meeting tomorrow. She’s done asking him to review it. It’s gone through three editing cyles and it will be never be perfect enough for him, but it’s nearly midnight now. She opens the slide deck as soon as he drops it into the shared folder, and a single flip through has her shrugging. Good enough. This is his part of the job anyway.

Without any announcement, they stand up at the same time, gathering their things. Despite their constant arguing, they do have a system and can read each other after four years. Y/N rushes to the elevator, pressing the button. Seungcheol strolls leisurely behind her. “Hot date or something?” He teases.

“More like a hot bath,” Y/N huffs. “What the hell kind of date would start at midnight?” Seungcheol gives her a suggestive look and she scoffs. “I see. Go have fun with that.”

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. They step in and Seungcheol presses the button for the first floor lobby. The doors slide closed and Y/N is so tired that the little vibration of the elevator gliding down nearly puts her to sleep standing up, kind of like a car ride would.

Until it lurches violently to a stop. Y/N grips the railing and curses, wide awake again. They’re on the 8th floor, not the first. And the doors don’t open.

“What the fuck?” Seungcheol hisses, stabbing at the button for the first floor. When it does nothing, he stabs at the buttons for any other floor. He sighs, glancing over at Y/N. “Stairs it is.” He peels back the doors and… there’s a wall. They’re stuck somewhere between the 7th and 8th floor.

He’s cursing loudly now and Y/N has put her head in her hands. “Security should still be here,” he mumbles, stabbing at the alarm button a few times. The blaring is short and shrill and when he steps back they wait in silence. But Seungcheol’s impatient. Minutes pass and he periodically presses the button. Nothing.

Next, he presses the emergency call button. A dial tone rings in the small speaker on the panel. It rings, and rings, and rings. When they hear a robotic ‘Disconnected’, they both curse. Y/N pulls out her phone. Their swearing is becoming creative because neither of them have signal.

“Might as well get comfortable,” Y/N sighs. Seungcheol doesn’t listen, repeatedly trying the alarm and call buttons.

It’s nearly 1am and they’re both sitting on the floor of the elevator, facing each other with their legs stretched out. “This is your fault,” Y/N mutters in the silence.

Seungcheol’s head snaps up from the metal wall, pinning her with a glare. “My fault? Write a good fucking report and we wouldn’t have been here all night.”

“The report was fine. What kept us here so late was you bleeding all over my pages,” Y/N said, monotone. This is an old argument and she can’t find the usual energy to give to it. Normally, she gets fired up as soon as he opens his mouth, but she’s exhaused.

Seungcheol scoffs. “As if you haven’t ripped apart my slide decks before.”

“That was deserved. You slapped some graphics on it that made no sense. And who leaves the background plain and white? Pick a fucking theme, there are hundreds to choose from,” Y/N finds herself heating, despite her tiredness.

“I told you, it distracts from the graphics,” Seungcheol cries, standing up to pace the small space. He’s been a pacer since day one. It’s something he can’t help it when they argue.

“It’s lazy. Pick anything but white and move on. Or better yet, use the template the media departement constantly asks us to use,” Y/N is standing too now. She doesn’t like that he can hover over her. She still has to look up at him when she’s standing, but it’s better than the looming he can do if she’s still sitting down.

“Nothing is ever good enough for you,” Seungcheol hisses.

“It isn’t for you either,” Y/N bites, getting into his face to stab a finger into his chest. “How many red fucking pens have you gone through in four years? And then you turn around in the presentation that I gave you the content for and give me no credit.”

“What are you talking about?” Seungcheol raises his voice. “Your name is always right there next to mine. Get up and present it yourself tomorrow if you want all the credit so badly.”

“What? So you can ream me out later for how poorly I did? No thanks.”

He’s closing in on her, crowding her space, fuming. She backs up into the elevator wall only because she has nowhere else to go. But she’s not scared of him, never has been. She’s angry.

“Try not to stutter in front of the entire board then,” Seungcheol shouts. “You’re supposed to be the fucking expert, so act like it and say literally anything with some confidence.”

“We’re both supposed to be experts, Seungcheol! We have the same title and job description. Yet I’m stuck with all the grunt work so you can waltz into the conference room, throw up a slide deck, and dazzle them with your charm.” She’s stabbing him in the chest again with her finger.

“Then get some fucking charm, Y/N. Stop blaming me for that,” Seungcheol hisses, face close to hers.

She glares back at him. “I hate you so much.”

The words seem to make his eyes harder. “The feeling’s mutual.” Then his lips are slamming into her. His hands find her hips roughly and Y/N’s hand find his tie, tugging hard. He folds to her height, hands groping fast. Her waist, her back, her breasts, her ass. His hands fly to the buttons of her shirt and she smacks them away, pushing him back hard.

“Don’t you dare rip it,” Y/N scolds, her fingers loosening the top buttons.

His fingers smack hers away this time and he’s quickly unbuttoning them down to her stomach.”You’re too slow,” he scolds back against her lips, hands tugging the material out of her skirt.

When his hands land on her bare stomach, she hisses and wants to smack him at how satisfied he looks at the sound. “Don’t get cocky yet. I doubt you’ll be able to make me come.”

Something shifts in his eyes. He’s still angry, but he likes the challenge. “I’ll make you eat your words.” He spins her to face the metal wall, but her whole body isn’t there for long. His hands roughly tug out her hips, leaving her upper body against the cool metal. He’s shimmying up her tight skirt and she can barely adjust to the chill before a hard smack lands on one of her ass. A gasp flies out of her mouth and she hates how wet she is already. His hand gropes at the reddened spot, repeating the process a few times. He leans in close to her ear. “Still think I can’t do it?”

Y/N tastes blood from how hard she’s biting her tongue. “Yes,” she hisses.

He releases a dark chuckle, and his hands are crawling across her body. He pushes her hair to the side, burying his face in her neck. The kisses and love bites are a distraction as he pulls her upperbody away to shove her bra up, roughly groping her breast and rolling her nipple between his fingers. She’s already keening when his other hand slides between her legs. He doesn’t hesitate to pull the string of the thong to the side and bury two fingers in her heat immediately. The intrusion makes her cry out and he’s chuckling into her neck again.

“For someone who hates me, you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he says patronizingly.

“Still hate you, but your hands and mouth aren’t bad,” Y/N bites but it’s losing any strength she had before. His fingers are pumping fast and the fingers on her nipple have her mind scrambling. She struggles to keep her reactions under control because she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He sucks on her neck, surely leaving a mark, but she doesn’t stop him because the feeling has her clenching on his fingers. “I offer more than my hands and mouth, but you’ll have to be a good girl and come on my fingers first before you can find out.”

Y/N wants to be strong. She’s determined not to let him have so much power of her body, but his hand slides from her breast to her neck, gripping lightly. She clenches hard at the touch and he’s kissing her cheek patronizingly. “Sweetheart, I had no idea you liked it like this. We could have been doing this for the last four years?” His fingers flex against her neck as the ones inside her curl, making her eyes roll back a bit. “All the late nights here over the years that I could have taken you on your desk after everyone left? Or have you on your knees for me? All the missed opportunities.” His lips find hers and it’s shockingly soft compared to what his hands are doing to her body. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come all over my fingers.”

She hates how everything about him makes her shake, orgasm slamming into her. He’s groaning into her ear, hand tightening around her throat. His fingers keep a brutal pace inside of her until she’s hurtling towards another orgasm before really recovering from the first one. It makes tears prick her eyes when she comes again and he sees them. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry just yet. You haven’t even had my cock yet.”

He’s pulling away from her and she clings to the railing on unsteady legs. He grabs her hips, hands still rough as he turns her around. He lowers to his knees in front of her and her eyes widen. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because he’s yanking her thong down her legs, helping her out of it. Then he’s throwing one of her legs over his shoulders. “Seungcheol, what are you -“ Her question cuts off with a gasp as his tongue laps at her intently. She’s already so sensitive that it makes her whole body jerk. She grips the railing with one hand and and the other flies to his hair, gripping the locks hard. But she knows he’s doing most of the work holding her up.

Three fingers are sliding into her and she can barely wrap her head around the stretch before he’s lapping at her clit. The intensity makes her climb fast, coming hard again. He doesn’t pull away and she realizes he’s going for another one. She yanks his head back hard by the hair. “No. Fuck me now.”

He’s smirking hard at the demand as he tosses her leg off his shoulder, standing up. When he kisses her and she can taste herself on him and it makes her clumsily reach for his belt, ripping it open. He lets her, still smirking against her lips.

Y/N smirks at him instead when her hand wraps around his cock, because he’s gasping softly against her lips. “Sweetheart, for someone who hates me, you’re pretty hard.” The fire in his eyes is back when she throws his words back at him and Y/N is glad to see it. It means she’s getting under his skin just as much he gets under hers. “I thought you said you’d have me crying on your cock. Was that all talk?”

“You drive me insane,” he grates, voice deep and scratchy. His hands are roughly turning her again, pushing her to her previous position, upper body pressed against the cool metal wall and lower body pulled out, back arched. He kicks her legs apart and his cock presses into the plush of her ass. “You talk too fucking much.” He grips his cock, sliding the head of it into her folds repeatedly and it has her sighing. “Dripping like a faucet for some one you hate. Letting someone you hate make you come over and over. All but demanding for someone you hate to fuck you. Make up your mind, sweetheart. Do you really hate me?” The head of his cock notches into her opening and the stretch is teasing.

Y/N glares over her shoulder. “Yes. Now change my mind.”

He slams into her and she cries out loudly. He sits deep inside her and stays there. There’s something sweet about how his hand brushes back her hair and he kisses her cheek, like he’s letting her adjust for a second. But then he opens his mouth. “Beg for it.”

“No way,” Y/N spits in his face. “Your ego is way too big already.”

“We have all night, sweetheart,” he coos. “Security doesn’t show up until 6am. I can stand here all night inside of you if I have to.” His hand creeps up to her her breast, teasing lighly, refusing to give her any of the impact she craves. She squirms in his arms and he’s chuckling again, holding her still. “Come on, Y/N. I’ll give you exactly what you want, but all you have to do is say please.” He presses light kisses to her neck.

Y/N huffs. “Why do you always have to win? Why can’t you ever let me have what I want?”

“I’m selfish when it comes to you,” he mutters into her ear. “You drive me up the wall. You’re so fucking beautfiul, but you open your mouth and tell me how much you hate me. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to resist you for the last four years?” He’s smirking against her skin because he can feel how she clenches at his words. “Maybe you do. I’ve seen how you squeeze your legs together sometimes and squirm in your seat when I come over to your desk. Tell me, were you wet all of those times, even when I didn’t touch you?”

He’s right and she can taste blood in her mouth again from biting her tongue. The smell of his cologne lingering behind her is enough any day. He keeps going, hand skating around to lay flat across her stomach. “It’s okay if it did. You make me rock hard at the most inconvenient times. I’ve thought about bending you over my desk at least a dozen times.” Another gentle press of his lips to her cheek. “Would you like that? Me pounding your cute little cunt?”

“I don’t know. Try it out and I’ll let you know,” Y/N bites. She feels his fingers flex against her stomach at the dare. “I won’t be begging until you make me.”

“Such a smart mouth,” he tsks. “Have it your way.” He slides out of her and her head falls back at the drag against her walls. Then he’s slamming back into her, the force making her bump back into the wall. His fingers crawl into her hair, tugging her head back. His pace is hard and fast and it has her seeing stars. There’s a bit of an ego boost for her in how he’s groaning into her ear loudly. “Fuck, can’t believe I waited this long. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The words have her clenching hard around him and he hums in her ear. “Like when I talk nicely to you? Not used to it?”

Y/N doesn’t really have an answer for him because she doesn’t know how to take anything he’s doing right now. The feeling of him hitting her cervix is overwhelming and the praise makes her chest warm. “You look sweet when you aren’t mouthing off to me. I'll give you whatever you want as long as you look like this. Just tell me.”

“More,” Y/N mumbles weakly. He doesn’t comment on how that’s dangerously close ot begging, but instead speeds up to a nearly impossible pace. It has her crying out, tears rushing out of her eyes. He cranks her head to face his again, gripping her throat tight. “Fingers.” This one is another plea disguised as a demand, and the hand on her stomach starts sliding down but she shakes her head rapidly, grabbing at the hand on her throat. She takes two of his fingers into her mouth and he’s groaning loudly now, curses echoing against the walls. His fingers press into her mouth roughly and she gags a bit, but it’s exactly what she needs to fall over the edge, coming harder than she ever has. Her mouth falls open and it makes the orgasm drag out even more that he doesn’t remove his fingers right away.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Can I come inside of you, sweetheart? Please?”

She’s coming again at his desparate tone, but not before saying ‘yes’ around his fingers. As abruptly as he started earlier, he halts deep inside of her, fingers popping out of her mouth to grip her shoulder and pressing his face into her neck with a broken moan. They stay like that for a long time, trying to catch their breath. When he finally pulls out, Y/N can’t help a whimper and he gives a soft apology. He gently turns her, redressing her with care. He guides the thong back up her legs into place, and flips her wrinkled skirt back down, doing his best to smooth out the material. Then his fingers deftly button her shirt back up, helping her tuck the edges back in.

The gentle touches make her eyes leak again and she wipes them away, smoothing down her hair. He’s watching her with an expression that she doesn’t understand because she’s never seen it before. It unnerves her because this is the sobering moment that she realizes what they’ve just done.

Rather than thinking about it, she reaches out to zip and button his pants, then buckling the belt back up. Then she’s smoothing down the wrinkles in his shirt and tie and straightening his hair up. He lets her.

It’s 4am when they try the alarm and call buttons again. Just like before, there’s no response and they come to terms with the fact that they’ll have to wait until security comes in at 6am. So Seungcheol and Y/N sit next to each other against the metal wall, shoulders touching. She’s been dozing off against him when he speaks up, breaking the silence. “I don’t hate you.”

Y/N feels herself tense, slowly raising her head to look at him. He’s got his eyes closed. “You don’t?”

“No,” he sighs. “You seemed to hate me right off the bat when we started here. We were already fighting on our second day. I didn’t know what I did, and eventually it just made me mad. But I don’t hate you. I never did.”

Y/N smiles a little, looking away from him as she leans her head back to match his pose. “I don’t hate you either. You frustrate me to no end, particularly because of how our work is divided, but I don’t hate you.”

It sounds like Seungcheol starts to say something, but there’s suddenly yelling outside of the elevator shaft. A few minutes later, they’re stepping out of the elevator on the 7th floor to face a very apologetic technician. “My damn phone died,” he said lamely. “I hope you guys weren’t here for too long.” He seems to know the answer already, but Seungcheol and Y/N shrug and wish him a good night, or rather a good morning.

They’re parked a couple spots from one another in the lot and Seungcheol simply tells her to get home safe. He waits for her to pull out onto the road before he backs out of his spot.

9am comes early. Y/N rushes into the office to throw her stuff into her cubicle and grab the reports on the corner of her desk. Seungcheol’s computer is locked but still lit up, so he must already be here. She finds him in the conference room, schmoozing the execs that they’re presenting to today. No one really acknowledges her as she takes a seat off to the side, pulling out her notepad.

Seungcheol glances at his watch during a lapse in conversation. “Let’s get started. I’m sure all of you have busy schedules.”

Y/N glances at the slide deck that was built last night and a small change catches her eye. Report and content by Lee Y/N. Presentation by Choi Seungcheol. He’s making a joke about forgiving him if he looks a little tired because he spent half the night stuck in the elevator, but she barely hears the chuckles becaue she’s blinking back tears. He gave her credit.

Blessedly, the exec team has very few questions following the presentation and compliments her report while looking directly at her. Back at her desk, she falls into her chair, sighing. She’s squinting with tired eyes to read her email when a mug is placed in front of her. Seungcheol simply says, “A little cream and three sugars.” Her eyes follow him as he walks to his side of the double cubicle and sits down, logging into his computer.

She wants to say something to him - about the change to the slide deck, or the fact that she didn’t know he knew how she took her coffee, or about last night in the elevator, but her phone rings and they’re being called into another meeting. Seungcheol makes sure she takes her coffee with her.

Seungcheol waits for her to gather her things right at 5pm. They pass by the elevator bay without a word and head to the stairwell. Somewhere around the 5th floor, Seungcheol turns to her. “Hot date tonight?” His tone is a little teasing.

Y/N scoffs. “Yeah, that hot bath that I didn’t get to have last night. My rushed shower this morning didn’t cut it.” Seungcheol chuckles. “What about you? Hot date tonight?”

“Not unless it’s with you.”

She nearly misses a step and his hand flies out to her waist to steady her. They’ve stopped somewhere between the 4th and 5th floor. “What?” He’s standing on the step below her and they’re basiclaly eye to eye. She’s perplexed when he looks a little sheepish.

“I would have asked you on our first day four years ago, but you were mean to me.”

She shoves at his shoulder and he barely moves. “You were mean first.”

Seungcheol laughs. “Maybe,” he admits, both hands holding her waist. “What do you think? Do you still hate me too much to go on a date with me right now?”

Y/N laughs too. “No, I think I might even like you a little bit now.”

#scoups #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #smut

246 notes · View notes

caws5749 · 3 months ago

Text

Written Words

A/N: does anybody have any fluffy requests???? Please send if you doooooooooooooo

You were always better with the written word. You fumbled over oral words, your brain not thinking fast enough to keep up with the conversation, often thinking of clever things to say only after the fact.

But written word was... right. It was simple, easy, seemed to just flow for you.

Natasha was never one for fancy speeches or eloquent romantic words anyway, but that didn't mean you didn't want her to receive something beautiful, something pure, something well-said. So you wrote.

It started with something as simple as a card with flowers, along with a new knife. You hadn't really known what to get her. She had loved everything, but she hadn't really cared about the gifts. What she loved, what she cherished, was the card.

Natasha, this is a simple gift, simply because I can't help but think of you. You consume my mind, my soul, my being in the best way possible. And I hope that you continue to. Love, Y/N.

No one had ever said anything like that to her. It was the gesture, but it was the words.

You kept writing little notes for her everywhere. Her heart soared, it was something she looked forward to every day. It was notes on her pillow for her to come home to, notes in her weapons locker, notes near the coffee machine (which made Tony and Clint roll their eyes in fake disgust and you never heard the end of it).

You knew you wrote decently, and you began to be proud of such a thing. You hadn't known how much your writings meant to Nat until one morning.

Unbeknownst to you, you had developed a pattern. It seemed that every other Wednesday or Thursday there was a note on Natasha's pillow.

But you didn't that morning. You were rushed, mildly under the weather, and just all around not doing your best. You hadn't really forgotten, but you just didn't have the time or energy.

Your girlfriend met you in the kitchen, pulling out a coffee mug while you worked the espresso machine.

Your eyes flickered towards her, a crease forming between your brows at her silence. There was no 'good morning', no hug, no nothing.

"Good morning," you said cautiously.

"Morning," the red-head replied shortly. She didn't even look at you. Your brows raised.

"Natasha?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is everything okay?'

"Why wouldn't it be?"

You sighed through your nose, growing a bit frustrated. You weren't usually so quick-tempered, but everything you were dealing with had caused a short fuse.

"Fine, then," you retorted. You returned to the espresso, throwing things about loudly.

Nat finally turned to look at you. She then studied the bags under your eyes, the slightly pink nose, the half-done hair, and the time. Guilt swept through her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, moving to you, arms wrapping around your middle from behind.

"What's going on?" you whispered, fingers moving in circles along her forearm.

"I know it's dumb, but I... you usually.... it's Thursday and every other We-.... just... there was no note," she finished sheepishly, half burrowing her face into your hair.

The lightbulb went off.

"Oh."

"I shouldn't expect that, but I just love your writing so much. But I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, especially seeing you, babe. You're clearly not having the best morning. I'm so sorry," she said gently, giving you a squeeze.

You hadn't known she loved your writing that much. But you certainly did now.

It was why you couldn't wait after writing your vows to share them with her.

It was dusk, the last hints of light barely creeping through into the compound. Natasha sat on the couch, a blanket half draped across her legs that were tucked under her. She had one eye on the news and another on the book in her hand.

Her eyes lit up as she noticed you, setting her book down. "Detka," she greeted warmly, lifting up the blanket for you. You settled in next to her, facing her and chewing on your bottom lip.

"What is it?" she asked, brows furrowed slightly.

"I know this isn't customary, but I can't wait," you said. She only looked more confused. You pulled out the paper that had slightly crinkled in your pocket. You took one look at her emerald eyes before your heart filled with love and you thought you might burst.

"When I met you, I didn't know what was to come," you began, following the words you'd so carefully written. "I didn't know I'd find someone with such love, such courage, intelligence, and all around perfection. I didn't know I'd find the one who was so perfect for me. Natasha Romanoff is a name that is revered in many households, in many hearts, but I can promise you that no one reveres you as I do. I promise to respect you, cherish you, love you like no other. I promise I will take care of you when you are sick, to protect you when you are fighting for the world, and to stop Clint from stealing your special snacks."

She gave a watery chuckle at that, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I promise to be a faithful wife, a faithful mission partner, and your greatest ally. I promise to try my best to give you the three children you desire, the perfect house you desire to build, and the life you deserve. Until death greets us, I am yours, Natalia."

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x femreader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #mine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine

302 notes · View notes

hotheadedhero · 5 months ago

Note

i am absolutely in love with your writing style and i see requests are open hehehehe

perhaps a rise!donnie with a gn reader that is “high intelligence low wisdom”? like, theyre smart and all and can understand a lot of his work, but they next moment they do something absolutely idiotic?

anyway thanks for considering <3

AN: If I've got the right idea then oh, ohoho, I think I can do this. Kinda describes me as a person 😅 And thank you!! I'm glad you enjoy the spoils of my crazy brain <3

A Dichotomy in Donnie's Dearest

Donatello x Reader

Donatello has a field day with you. Finding another entity as smart as him is unfounded but you're an enigma altogether. You're not necessarily the next Einstein, but your ability to fathom even half of the stuff that comes out of his mouth is impressive. Some nights, you'll both have conversations about biomechanics, nuclear chemistry, or anything that weasels its way into the mix. It isn't uncommon for you two to stay up until the break of dawn when you get caught up in such exchanges. In fact, your propensity for science drew him towards you in the first place. You make quite a pair, like how a covalent bond is a formation of electrons shared between two atoms.

Although, he supposes that if that is the attractive force in this analogy, your disposition for thick-witted conduct is the repulsive force. The difference between your divine intellect and your misshapen ability to function in society is an astounding, if not worrying prospect. It's as though you completely forgot yourself and he can only speculate how.

Initially, he chalked it up to a faulty memory: forgetting to switch the socket on when you plug your laptop in, not realising your phone is in your hand whilst it's 'lost', completely losing your train of thought mid-conversation. Standard, everyday predicaments that aren't unfounded amongst the greater world.

That assumption was quickly abandoned when he took closer note of some things that come out of your mouth - certain "theories" of yours that he hopes are funny thoughts and nothing more.

"Do you reckon tissues get their name from the fact that when we sneeze, we say, a-tissue?" you ask him.

You can't be serious, surely. Perhaps it was merely a bad attempt at a pun. If so, he'll have to limit your spending time with his oh-so-dear brother, Leonardo. It's bad enough having one person galivanting around thinking they're funny, let alone two.

He can't even begin to form a base for what you've just asked him, and instead replies so, "Life is too short for me to answer such questions."

It doesn't end there. He wishes he could say it does but it doesn't.

"I just figured out why a peanut is called a peanut!" The unparalleled excitement in your voice is enough to shock him out of his mortal body but the content source of your jovial commotion is mind-boggling and not in a good way. When he does nothing other than stare, you continue, "They're like peas in a pod but the nut version!"

"A dazzling deduction, my love," he remarks tiredly, wondering how you're the same person he discusses string theory with. "The limits of your knowledge truly know no bounds."

He's just glad Aristotle isn't around to see this side of humanity. It isn't limited to what you say, either. Worst of all, it's the things you do. Such as, when you try to eat something despite the fact it's just come out of the oven. Bonus 'dumb-dumb' points if you try to take food out of the oven without gloves. To put it simply, he doesn't trust you in the kitchen - a caution further validated when you rubbed your eyes after cutting jalapeno peppers once. You have been effectively banned.

He's lost count of how many times you've elbowed your own hip whilst rolling over in bed, or the many instances you've attempted to pull a push door and vice versa. That isn't even taking into account the countless times you have visited the lair without waterproof clothing, despite how long you've been coming down. Let's just say that the already long list is seemingly never-ending.

His frequent sighs of annoyance never offend you. If anything, it makes you laugh that much more when he appears physically pained by your antics. It's as though you enjoy his suffering. From your perspective, there's no harm in the odd hiccup here and there. You're merely enjoying life for what it is and know when to have a giggle at yourself.

Donnie believes himself to be a prodigy and he is! He can solve most if not all conundrums thrust his way but you - you - are the one he can't figure out. Yet, no matter how many times you engage in these idiotic behaviours, he still loves you. Besides, thinking any less of you would be a stupefying case of hypocrisy if he weren't to acknowledge his own blunders. Granted, his mistakes are often in the name of science but you are truly a match made in imbecilically astute Elysium.

AN: Btw, the things about the tissues, peanuts, and elbowing hips? Real stuff from me. Idk how I function

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the turtles #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #donatello #donnie #rise donnie #x reader #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #rise donatello #rise donnie x reader

238 notes · View notes

cinnaleaf · 2 months ago

Text

ESSENCE OF US - CH 5: DATE NIGHT*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 4 HERE | MASTERLIST | READ CH 6 HERE [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, oral sex (female receiving), language, implied anxiety genre: fluff, angst, slow(ish) burn romance, slight smau wc: ~7.1k a/n: you asked for angst..i hope i delivered. please share your thoughts in my inbox!!

Enchantée(f)/Enchanté(m): 'nice to meet you' Rêveur: 'dreamer'

You stood in front of your mirror applying the final touch of gloss to your lips. Your nerves had been a mess all day and you were mentally spiraling, trying to convince yourself to chill out. It wasn't like it was your first time with Trent. You saw him plenty of times, but tonight felt different compared to the random run-ins and late nights. The anticipation of it all had your stomach doing somersaults.

Why am I so nervous? It’s just Trent. No big deal.

You took a deep breath, staring at your reflection like it was going to give you the answers to the superstorm brewing in your head. This date wasn't like all the other encounters where you ran into him. This date was planned. Intentional. Something about him putting in effort to plan all of it made things feel serious.

“Okay..he's already seen me naked. It can't get any worse than that,” you said to your reflection, trying to hype yourself up. The pep talk wasn't really stopping your heart rate from skyrocketing though.

Then you heard a knock.

The kind of knock that makes your stomach lurch.

You took one glance at yourself in the mirror, trying to keep it together before you opened the door. He looked perfect as always. Honestly, he had no business looking that good. His gaze looked you over before settling on your face. “Damn..you look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You look good too...” you replied neutrally, trying to play it cool. It wasn't really working but it was worth a shot. He stepped closer, his eyes still scanning over you. “Nahh. You're showing out tonight Y/N. Look at you!” You laughed nervously, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “You've seen me before…”

“Not like this..I almost don’t want to go to the class,” he said softly, leaning in towards you. Before you could respond he kissed you. It was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to take his time to savour you. You almost forgot where you were for a second as you felt the warmth of his hand resting on your hip. When he pulled back, he smiled as he looked into your eyes. “Ready for tonight?”

You smiled, although your stomach was still doing somersaults. “Um y–yeah. I think so.”

“You sure? You look like you're about to faint,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. “I'm not going to faint! This is just our first date. It feels weird.”

“Why is it weird?”

You shrugged, biting your bottom lip. “We've done everything but this. Just feels different, that’s all.” Trent chuckled as he brushed his thumb over the corner of your lips “Don't overthink it Y/N. We'll have fun.”

“Maybe..” you admitted. You definitely had a habit of overthinking and Trent was starting to clock it. He had a way of making you feel comfortable, but anxiety was always lurking in the background, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and mess with your head.

“Y/N..” he said softly, “It's just us having a good time.” You nodded, trying to shake off your nerves. “Ugh. You're right..I'm being dumb.”

“You're not dumb. We’ll have a good time tonight,” he said while kissing your temple. Once you were in his car, his hand rested on your thigh as he drove to the cooking studio. “So..you gonna tell me if I get another date? Really trying to impress you here.” You burst out laughing, “The bar was low Trent..you already passed.” Trent joined in on your laughter, not offended in the slightest. “Low? Never that. I'm setting a standard.”

“Mhmm..we'll see.”

The city lights flickered by as he continued to drive. By the time you made it to the studio, your nerves had been replaced with excitement. The chef greeted both of you with a welcoming smile as she handed an apron to both of you. “Welcome, lovebirds! We're making a three course meal tonight. We’re starting with roasted bruschetta topped with heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil, followed by homemade pasta in a truffle sauce. And for dessert, a chocolate soufflé.”

Lovebirds??

The lighting in the cooking studio bathed the room as you and Trent tied your aprons. The space had a cozy and inviting feel to it while still being romantic. Every time Trent caught your eye, he looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the room. Your conversation with him flowed naturally as you began preparing the bruschetta. Trent grabbed a tomato, slicing it with more precision than you expected. Maybe he did know his way around the kitchen.

Trent leaned in closer to you as you started prepping the rest of the ingredients. “So how’d you end up in the perfume business? Love Notes..that’s all you?” You were a bit surprised by his curiosity as you glanced up at him. “Yep, it’s mine” you said, before placing an ingredient down. “I used to mix random things together when I was a kid. My parents would get so pissed off, so I would sneak around and do it while they were sleeping.”

Trent laughed, fascination displayed on his face. “So you turned that into perfume?”

“Eventually..” you said, smiling as you began to chiffonade the basil in front of you. “I studied chemistry in uni because I wanted to learn how to mix things professionally. I created a fragrance during my last year for fun..but it ended up getting some attention. Too much attention, actually.”

“It went viral or something?”

You shrugged, feeling shy now. “Sorta. A fragrance house offered to buy the formula from me. That's where I got the money to start Les Notes d'Amour.” Trent set his knife down, turning his attention to you fully. “So, you made a popular perfume and just..sold it to someone else?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I don't know if you've ever heard of it but it's called ‘Enchantée’. I thought I used too much tuberose but—” Trent stared at you for a minute with an unreadable expression as you continued to talk. Then he broke into the biggest smile you’d ever seen before cutting you off mid-sentence. “Enchanté! That's my mum's favorite perfume.”

“Wait..what?!”

“Yeah! She's been wearing it for a long time. That's wild..you made that??” he said, laughing softly. Your heart skipped a beat once you realized there was another layer of connection between the two of you.

“Trent…are you being serious or are you fucking with me right now? Please.”

The universe sure had a funny way of circling back, always leading you right back to him. “I swear! She talks about it all the time. She never goes a day without it.”

What were the odds? First the train, the café, Paris, and now this. Insane.

“Small world, huh?” you whispered, nudging into him. He nodded, still grinning like he had won the lottery. “Just the universe and all its plot twists. It's been playing matchmaker from the start.” He was right. The idea of fate bringing you together felt more real with every moment you shared with him. You knew there was chemistry, but you never expected it to deepen in this way, it felt surreal. “So..after that I opened Love Notes..” you continued in a softer voice. “I started creating custom fragrances for brides and grooms, celebs, and I made signature collections. I want everyone to have something that’s made just for them.”

Trent reached over, brushing his hand over yours. “That's valid. I didn't know you were out here changing the game like that.” You smiled, feeling your heart race again. “I love it. It never feels like work to me.” You could see the admiration in Trent's eyes. He was taking in every word you said, every part of your journey, your world. “What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus to him. “I know footie is life or whatever, but what about your family? You seem close.”

You saw his expression soften when you mentioned his family. “Yeah, we're close. I've got two brothers who always have my back. We're tight.” You could hear the love in his voice as he continued to gush over his family. “That's so sweet,” you said, admiring how genuine he was being.

“Yeah, they're the reason I’m where I am. Couldn’t do it without ‘em.”

Before you could respond to him, he cupped your chin to tilt your face towards his. He searched your eyes before leaning in, giving you a slow and tender kiss. It felt like a quiet affirmation of the serendipity that seemed to weave your lives together in ways neither of you could fully understand at the moment. He gazed at you, looking like he was about to say something that would change everything.

“Maybe..” he began in a low voice. “Maybe we should stop pretending we're just—”

Your heart pounded, the anticipation pulling you closer as if the entire universe was holding its breath, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.

Was this it?

You felt that familiar tension you always felt with him—like right before lightning strikes. Just as his lips parted to speak again, the chef's voice cut through the silence like a bolt of lightning.

“How's the bruschetta coming along over there, lovebirds?”

You and Trent jerked back, the spell between you breaking as you turned towards her. Trent was clearly thrown off and it was kind of funny. “Uh, right. The bruschetta,” he sounded like he was trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. You laughed, your tension easing once you saw the frustrated look in his eyes. He leaned into you, whispering in your ear. “I swear, worst timing ever.” You giggled, shaking your head. “The universe is just having a laugh at us, no?”

“Or keeping us on our toes,” he joked. “I guess it wants me to wait a little bit before I say what I really want to.” Whatever he was about to say wasn't forgotten...just postponed.

You both turned back to the partially assembled bruschetta, although his eyes were on you a lot more than they were on the tomatoes. Every time your hands brushed against his, you felt your skin tingle, reminding you of what almost happened.

Eventually, you managed to pull it off pretty well. Sure, it was just toasted bread with toppings but it looked delicious. “See? I told you I knew how to cook,” Trent said with a smirk as he slid the bruschetta onto a plate. “Umm, let's not get carried away. All you did was chop some tomatoes and toast bread.” He nudged you with his shoulder lightly, “Ah, just wait til we get to a real challenge like the pasta.”

“Can't wait to see that disaster,” you teased, moving on to the next dish. The chef brought over a bowl of flour, eggs, and oil as she explained the technique of mixing it by hand. “Knead it just right. Don't be afraid to get messy, it's part of the fun!” You saw Trent's eyes light up as soon as the words 'messy' and 'fun' were mentioned. You were in danger, girl.

You made a well in the flour for the eggs as you followed the chef's instructions intently, but Trent was less focused on perfection. He dove straight into the flour, sending small flour cloud puffs into the air. “Slow down!” you shrieked, laughing as you tried to fix the pile of flour that was spilling over the counter. He grinned mischievously before grabbing a small handful of flour and tossed it in your direction. It hit you on the shoulder as a cloud of white dust settled on your outfit.

“Trent, I swear to god–”

He grabbed more flour before you were able to finish your sentence and flicked it at you. You grabbed a huge handful in retaliation, hitting his shirt, his hair, and half his face. “Oh, that's how it is?” he wiped some flour off his cheek, grinning like a kid in a candy store. You tried to dodge his next attempt but he was moving quicker than you were, setting off a flour warfare. Your face scrunched up, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “We have to clean this up later,” you warned. He stepped closer, dusting some flour off your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

Unbeknownst to you, the chef had pulled out her phone and recorded the entire thing. “You two are too cute! Don’t mind me..just getting this for the ‘gram.” You hesitated for a second, wondering how this would look to everyone watching online. The thought of it made your anxiety start to creep in, but then you glanced at Trent. He looked absolutely ridiculous and had flour all over him, yet he was still grinning ear to ear. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a big deal anymore. You were having the time of your life, and you didn’t care to think about the specifics of it at the time.

Eventually, you both managed to get back to the dough. Shared laughter filled the studio as you both struggled to knead the pasta into shape. You managed to pull it together before moving on to prepare the chocolate soufflé. There was no funny business this time, you both worked perfectly in sync before placing the soufflé in the oven.

While the soufflé baked, you and Trent sat down at the table to enjoy the bruschetta and pasta. There were soft flickerings of candlelight which would have been romantic under most circumstances, but the fact that both of you were covered in flour made it feel like the goofiest thing ever. Trent’s shirt was basically covered and you had flour all over your face. You couldn’t stop the fit of giggles every time you looked at each other.

“This is a good look for us,” Trent said, chuckling as he wiped a bit of flour from your cheek. “Ready for me to post our masterpiece?” You hesitated for a second before smiling. The lightness of the evening still had you on cloud nine. “Yeah go ahead. It’s just a plate of pasta, right?” He pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of plated food on the table before posting it to his story. You weren't really in the shot. The only thing that could be seen was the tiniest sliver of hair in the frame, but the flour coated mess in the background was obvious.

Just a harmless picture, you figured. There was no way the chef’s video would go viral. She wasn’t too well known, plus, the night had been too fun to worry about all the little details. It was just a plate of food, right?

But then again… the internet was the internet.

In record time, your phone started pinging. Again…and then again. Frowning, you picked up your phone as the notifications came flooding in faster than you could process. Trent glanced over with his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“All good?”

You swiped open Instagram, immediately noticing SpillTheBeansUK had already reposted Trent's story, along with the chef's video. The video featured you and Trent in a fit of laughter while covered in flour, and people were connecting the dots faster than you imagined:

@.SpillTheBeansUK 👀 Looks like TAA’s mystery girl @.yourusername strikes again! The flour fight, the looks, the vibes..this is more than just a date. When’s the wedding?

@.ChillOutMate its giving hard launch but im shy

@.TAA_Angel03 Girly you’re feeding MY MAN well so you’re good in my book. But Trent..please come home we can fix this baby

@.InTheStands92 T isn’t subtle with his story at all LOL. He may as well have tagged her

@.CuppaT66 Man tried so hard not to reveal and still failed lmao

@.Y2KBabe20 Is this a soft launch or hard launch? confused but INVESTED

@.TeamHardLaunch ok, fuck a soft launch.. when is the wedding

@.YNGotFansNow The chef really did us a solid here. We needed this update!! But the fact they still don’t follow each other is driving me mad 😩

@.YNperfume_fan I wonder what scent Y/N wore for this date night? Something gourmand to match the vibe I bet.

@.ConspiracyBabe they’re not gonna hard launch until Y/N’s new fragrance collection drops. She’s gonna tie it all together and Trent’s gonna promote it. This is all PR strategy. 👀

@.FootieStan08 I want to hate but the way they’re looking at each other in that video is so cute. Fuming tho 😤

@.GossipLuvr ‘The Wait’ a fragrance by Y/N. Notes of suspense and slow burn angst. 😂

@.YNPerfumeJunkie not me refreshing her website just in case a surprise perfume launch happens after this date night 😭

@.TeamYNOfficial liking the chef’s post and then posting his own like we can’t piece it all together. You’re so obvious T

@.LoyalTStan wait…someone said they’ve been married for a year but keeping it private. I saw it on a forum 👀

@.GirlWhatLies A YEAR?? sis they’ve been publicly spotted together like 2 times. Where are you getting this info??! lmao wtf

You handed the phone to Trent, who couldn’t stop laughing as he scrolled through the comments. “Man, these people are wild.”

“Right?” you replied, still giggling. “They’re already planning our wedding and we haven’t even had dessert yet.”

“I guess we’ll have to tell them to RSVP at a later date...” You scrunched up your eyebrows, giving Trent a confused look. “Huh? What are you on about?”

“We can’t have people RSVPing to our wedding if we’re not official yet, right?” he said, with a smug smile. Your brain was struggling to catch up with what was happening.

You blinked, completely taken aback as you realized. “Wait..are you asking me—”

Just as you were beginning to clarify—and possibly answer his question, a shrill, ear splitting beep filled the air followed by the blaring of a smoke alarm. You both whipped your heads toward the oven.

*BEEP!

!BEEP*

*BEEP!

!BEEP*

“Oh! The soufflé!” you yelped, eyes wide with panic. Trent’s laughter erupted beside you, both of you jumped out of your chairs, scrambling towards a chaotic mess of flour and panic. You grabbed a towel, frantically waving it near the alarm as the smell of burnt chocolate filled the air. The noise was so loud and annoying you could barely think, let alone hear anyone over the noise.

“IT’S BURNT!” you yelled over the blaring alarm, waving the towel harder.

Trent, still chuckling, quickly grabbed oven mitts and yanked open the oven door. “YEAH, NO SHIT!” he shouted, barely containing his laughter.

The whole thing was hilarious, truly. There was flour still clinging to both of you while smoke billowed from the oven, the alarm was blaring like a screaming toddler, and your phone was still pinging with notifications. Throughout all the chaos, it felt like your body was pumped with pure adrenaline. You knew what you wanted to say, and you needed to say it now.

“YES!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, continuing to fan the towel wildly. “I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”

Trent whipped his head around, a huge grin spread across his face but the noise was so deafening he clearly misheard you. “YEAH! WE’LL CLEAN THE OVEN AFTER THIS!”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “WHAT? NO!! I SAID I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”

Trent stared at you for a second as your words connected in his head, then he burst into hysterical laughter while taking the oven mitts off. “OHHHH! GIRLFRIEND, NOT OVEN! THAT MAKES SENSE!”

You were laughing too now, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. “YES! YOUR GIRLFRIEND, SILLY!”

Without missing a beat, Trent crossed the smoky kitchen in a few quick steps and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep fiery kiss. The fire alarm was still blaring while the smell of burnt chocolate filled the room, but none of it mattered. His hands held you close, your flour covered fingers gripping the front of his shirt as you kissed him back with just as much urgency.

Somewhere in the background, the chef stood with her arms crossed, smiling like she witnessed the greatest love story she had ever seen. She made no move to stop the chaos. She just let it unfold like she knew this was exactly how it was supposed to happen.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless and laughing as you tried to catch your breath. The alarm continued to screech dramatically.

“WELL,” Trent yelled, still holding onto you, “THAT’S ONE WAY TO MAKE IT OFFICIAL!”

You laughed, pulling him closer. “DEFINITELY NOT WHAT I IMAGINED!”

He grinned, his voice teasing. “BUT YOU SAID YES! A WIN IS A WIN BABY!”

As the fire alarm finally died down, and the chef gave you both a thumbs-up from across the room and you knew one thing for sure:

The whole situation was perfectly imperfect in the best way..and it was yours.

After helping the chef clean up the studio kitchen, you and Trent headed back to your apartment for some much needed alone time. Flour still clung to your clothes as you stepped inside, but Trent didn't seem to care. The moment he heard the door click, his hands found your waist to pull you close. The way he gripped you was so needy, like he had been waiting to have you alone all night. He wasted no time pulling you into a hungry kiss as his hands made their way down to knead your ass.

“Shower?” you whispered against his lips, barely managing to pull away.

“I won’t say no to that,” he winked, clearly having more intentions than just a shower.

You both tossed your flour covered clothes aside quickly before stepping into the shower. The water cascaded over your skin as it washed away the remaining remnants of the chaotic date night. Trent's hands immediately found their place, cemented onto your hips to pull you close to him from behind.

He murmured against your neck, "Y'know..I had a good time tonight.”

You turned your head as your breath caught slightly from his hands sliding up your sides, his fingers tracing the curves on your body. "Mmm, me too." His lips moved to your shoulder as you felt heat rush to your core. You tilted your head and rested it on his shoulder when his hands moved lower, teasing the skin above your thighs.

"Trent please.." you whimpered, voice filled with desperation. “I need you.” His fingers immediately found their way between your legs, slipping inside you in a slow and deliberate motion. You gasped, clutching his arm to steady yourself as he curled his fingers inside of you with the perfect rhythm.

“You like that?” Trent whispered against your ear in a low and erotic voice, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to his fingers. You moaned softly, biting your lip as you nodded. “Y-yesss.”

His other hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple sending sparks of fire coursing through you. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he said, moving his fingers faster and deeper.

You moaned in response, your body arching into his touch as the water streamed over both of you. The tension in your core tightened and you could feel yourself teetering on the brink of seventh heaven. Just as you were getting close to falling over the edge, a sudden thought blared in your mind—the shop.

Your eyes flew open, a sudden panic rising in your chest.

Fuck, did I turn off the equiptment?!

Your mind started racing as the anxiety came in full throttle. You hated when this happened. Always thinking about the next thing, especially right now, frustrated the hell out of you. Trent felt your body tense up and his hand immediately froze in place. “Shit..did I hurt you? I'm sorry.”

“No, no,” you quickly reassured him. “I think I forgot to turn something off at Love Notes. I need to go check, like right now.”

Trent stared at you, looking like he was caught between desire and confusion. “Now???”

“Yes, now! I can’t leave it on overnight.” you said, pulling away as you stepped out to quickly dry off and get dressed. Trent sighed, running his hand over his neck. “Only you would remember that right now, Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you mouthed, feeling guilty for letting your mind ruin the moment.

By the time you arrived at Les Notes d'Amour it was late, really late. The streets were basically empty and the shop was dark with the exception of dim lighting that illuminated the displays. You headed straight back to where the equipment was, relief washing over you when you saw nothing had gone wrong. The machinery had been off the entire time. You took a deep breath, double checking everything again to make sure you weren’t losing your mind. Trent stood nearby, leaning on the doorframe and looking completely relaxed like always. “Better?”

“Much better. Thanks for coming with me” you smiled, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders.

“No problem..” he said, stepping closer. “now since we’re here..”

You raised your eyebrow, curious. “What??”

He grinned, a familiar glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “How about we make that aftershave we talked about?”

“Right now? You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the counter. “We’re already here anyway. Let's do it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you grabbed your perfume diary and some of your favorite oils. You immediately went into your element, gathering ingredients as Trent wandered around the shop. He occasionally picked up a bottle, sniffing it with curiosity.

“So..” he said, coming to stand next to you, “whatcha got?”

You explained the process as you went along, handing him different oils to smell. He made a funny face at some, but others seemed to catch his interest. You walked him through the idea of base notes, heart notes, and top notes. “I want something warm,” Trent said confidently. “Not too heavy, a little fresh.” You nodded, pulling together ingredients based on his preferences. “How about lavender? It's light and fresh. We can mix it with something like apple and spice for warmth.” While working, you mixed in a note of vanilla, cedar, and sandalwood to round the scent out—it was smooth yet bold as a testament to his calm confidence. While you were busy scribbling the formula down on a sticky note, Trent wandered over with a pen, flipping to a blank page in your notebook to write a note.

He started doodling in soft strokes as he sketched a small eclipse. The delicate lines formed a shadow of the moon crossing in front of the sun. He hesitated for a second before writing the words that had been on his mind since Paris.

I want you for as long as the stars shine. - T

You were still mixing oils on the far end of the room looking like a mad scientist. He glanced over at you to make sure you were still distracted as he closed the notebook, hiding his little secret for you to find later. When you turned back around, Trent was leaning against the counter looking too innocent. You raised your eyebrow, knowing something was up. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” he said with a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Just letting my girl work her magic.” You narrowed your eyes playfully, still smiling. “I know you’re up to no good..” You eyed him suspiciously but decided to let it slide. “Okay sneaky, what do you think of the scent?” Trent took a deep breath, taking in the warm fragrance.

“Oh nah..what is this..?” he yelped, pulling the bottle away from his face dramatically. Your heart sank for a millisecond before you saw the corners of his mouth twitching. He was just fucking with you.

“Stop fucking around,” you said, rolling you eyes. “You're the worst liar ever.”

He started cracking up before pulling you into a quick hug. “You got me. But nah..you did amazing. I love it.” You pulled away from him, crossing your arms as you pretended to be annoyed. In reality, you were loving the way he was hyping you up. “You're so annoying, I swear.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “What are we going to name it?”

You paused, thinking for a moment before looking at the bottle. This part of the process was the most fun, naming your creation to describe the meaning beyond the bottle. “What about Rêveur?” you asked, the name rolling off your tongue easily.

“What’s that?” he asked inquisitively.

“Dreamer,” you replied with a soft smile. “It's perfect for you. You already made so many of your dreams come true.” Trent was silent but when he finally spoke, his voice lost its usual playfulness. “Hmm..Rêveur..” he repeated as he nodded. “I like that. Dreamer..yeah, that's perfect.”

As the name hung in the air, Trent set the bottle aside as his eyes darkened with admiration..and something more primal. You barely finished naming the scent before his arms were circling around your waist, his lips ghosting over your neck. “You're amazing, you know?” You opened your mouth to respond but your words were caught in your throat as his lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss. His hands roamed your body as he walked you backward until your body hit the display counter. Your perfume bottles rattled but you didn't care, all you could focus on was the heat pooling between your legs, the sensation of his touch, his lips moving from your mouth to your neck, then lower, lower...

“Trent..” you gasped, gripping the edge of the counter. He pulled back, dropping to his knees with confidence. “You made something for me, yeah? I think I need to reward you.”

Your pulse quickened as his hands slid up your thighs, pulling off the tiny shorts you had thrown on after your shower earlier. He hooked his fingers under your panties and dragged them down agonisingly slow before locking his eyes on yours, daring you to stop him.

You couldn't think clearly around this man, so there was no way you were stopping him. In fact, you needed him to keep going, and quickly.

“You deserve this,” he whispered as he kissed your inner thigh, sending a chill through you. His words made your breath hitch, but then his mouth was on you and you felt your whole world tilt. His tongue moved in perfect rhythm, flicking, teasing, and sucking until your knees buckled. You gripped the counter for support, gasping his name as he held you in place. Every stroke of his tongue brought you closer to ecstasy.

“F-fuck, that feels so good,” you could barely get the words out due to his tongue’s relentless assault on your pussy. He hummed against you and the vibrations had you seeing stars. His hands gripped your thighs tighter to hold you steady. You could feel the pressure twisting, tightening, building until you couldn't take it anymore. You were teetering on the edge of a devastatingly perfect orgasm as your body begged for release. He pulled back just enough to murmur against your skin, “Let go, baby. I wanna taste you when you cum.”

You arched your back against the counter, moaning his name as your orgasm tore through you like a wildfire. It was so intense that it was almost unbearable, but he didn't stop. His tongue was working you through the aftershocks to draw out every bit of pleasure until you were completely undone. When he finally pulled away, he rose to his feet with a cocky grin.

“Best aftershave I ever made,” you panted, trying to catch your breath.

Trent laughed, cupping your chin with his hands as he murmured against your lips, deep with affection. “Thank you.”

No. Thank YOU, you thought to yourself.

The way he looked at you made your heart race, but your mind started racing too as the warmth of the moment faded. A feeling of uneasiness stirred inside you. For a second you smiled at him, but the weight of everything you hadn't told him yet crept up and threatened to pull you down like a rip current. If you were going to have something real with him, you needed to be completely honest. He needed to know the truth.

About you. About everything.

“Trent..” you began in a shaky voice. You pulled away, gesturing around the room. “This...all of this..is like my baby. It's the only thing I've ever truly had control over in my life.”

His brow furrowed, sensing the shift in your mood. “What do you mean?”

You ran a hand through your hair, sighing as you tried to find the right words. “I wasn't always like this. Successful, I mean. I almost lost all of it. Everything I built...all of this.” You gestured around the room again. “Because of him.”

“..Who?”

“My ex,” you spoke quietly, not wanting his name to linger on your tongue at all. “He was older..successful, charming..all of that. It was everything I thought I wanted, well–everything my parents wanted for me.” You swallowed thickly, the memories rushing back like ghosts haunting you.

“I thought the ups and downs were just a part of starting something new, y'know? I thought the struggles were normal but they weren't. He sabotaged me.” Trent's jaw clenched as he sat up straighter, turning his full attention to you. “He didn't want me to have something of my own,” you continued, your voice trembling. “He wanted a young trophy wife..someone he could parade around with at events. He seemed so established..so powerful. I guess I was drawn to that.”

Trent's hand tensed on your leg, “What did he do?”

The words started spilling out before you could stop them. “He fucked everything up. He stole some of my clients and pulled them into his failing business ventures. He shared ideas I was working on with competitors..he wanted to destroy me. He hated that I had ‘Love Notes’. He wanted me to feel like I needed him.” You paused as the bitter taste of the memory made your throat tight. “And I was so stupid..I stayed. Because my parents were so proud of me for being with him. They thought he was perfect. They wanted me to have this perfect life and if I walked away..I knew they'd be disappointed.”

He nodded, silently giving you more time to open up at your own pace.

You could feel tears welling up but you pushed them back. “I thought I had to keep up appearances because it was what everyone expected. Every day I stayed..I lost more of myself. My business was crumbling..my confidence didn't exist. And I didn't even realize it was because of him.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “It wasn't until Camille stepped in that I really started to see how fucked everything was. She saw right through him and hated him from the start…but she never pushed me. She just waited until I was ready.”

Trent looked at you with a mix of concern and admiration. He was being so patient with you. “Camille pulled every string she could to get me away from him. She cut off every business tie he had. Her family–they're connected in ways I don't even fully understand myself..but they made sure he wouldn't come near me again.”

To be honest, they were the only reason your life wasn’t in shambles right now.

“I owe her everything,” you admitted quietly.

“Camille is a real one,” Trent said quietly, still taking in what you had just told him.

“Yeah, she is,” you agreed. “She warned me not to fall too fast for you but–” Trent's eyes softened as he pulled you into him. “I'm not him, Y/N. You don't have to worry about that. He sounds like a piece of shit.”

“I know..but it's hard,” you whispered, feeling the comfort of his words wash over you. “I have this fear that I'm not enough. Like–I'm going to mess everything up. And you're...you. You made all your dreams come true and I'm trying to keep my head above water half the time.”

Trent's thumb moved to your cheek, wiping away a tear that fell down. “Nah, it's not like that,” he said quietly. “I feel pressure constantly. Everyone expects me to win every match, be the best on and off the pitch. I feel like I'm not enough sometimes too.” You didn't really expect him to open up like this, at least not right now. You didn't know he felt the same kind of weight you carried. “You don't show it,” you muttered. "You always seem so confident like you have it all together.”

He smiled but there was a hint of sadness in his brown eyes. “Yeah, I'm good at hiding it. I have to be. Can't show your weakness when the whole world is watching.”

“I just don't want to lose myself,” you admitted in a small voice. “I can't go through that again.” Trent pulled you into a warm embrace to ground you. “I’m not going to hurt you Y/N. Just tell me what you need and I'll give it to you.”

“I want to believe that, but I'm scared of what it means to be with you. I'm scared of messing up and not being enough for you.” Trent kissed your cheek, continuing to hold you close to him. “You don't need to be perfect Y/N. I don't need that..I just need you.” For a moment, you stayed wrapped in his arms as the weight of what was said filled the room. “You won't lose yourself,” he whispered. “Not with me.”

Maybe Trent was right. You clawed your way out of hell a year and a half ago. Despite your short time together, he made you feel something no one else ever had, especially not your god awful ex. Trent wanted you to believe you deserved every little good thing coming your way. He wanted you to see yourself the way others did, and he wasn't going to stop until you finally saw it too.

The drive back to your place was quiet but not awkward; both of you needed a minute to process everything. Trent's hand rested on it's usual place–your thigh. Every once in a while he would give your leg a reassuring squeeze to remind you he was right there and not going anywhere. You glanced at him, noticing his brow was furrowed like he was deep in thought. He seemed like he was mulling over everything you told him and it made you feel vulnerable..but it felt safe. You were thankful you didn't have to speak right now, both of you just existing in comfortable silence together after a heavy conversation.

Meanwhile, Trent's brain was running a mile a minute. What you told him about your ex had him fuming, he couldn't believe someone would do that to you. He didn't show it though. He knew how evil some people could be, and the fact that someone nearly made you lose everything made his stomach turn. And then there was the pressure he knew all too well–the public eye. He was used to it, but the idea of you facing that kind of attention made him want to wrap you in bubble wrap. He was protective.. maybe more than he should have been, but it was clear he didn't want anyone to hurt you again..not even him.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, breaking the silence. He glanced at you with his hand still resting on your thigh. “Yeah, I'm just thinking.”

“Thinking about???”

“You,” he admitted in a soft voice. “You're strong for getting out of that mess and building a life for yourself.” You swallowed, throat tight with emotion. “But Camille, she–”

“Yeah, I know,” he cut you off gently. “You didn't let him win though, and that says a lot about who you are as a person.” You didn't know how to respond to his statement so you just nodded, feeling your chest warm up at his words.

As you stepped inside your apartment, the quietness of the night settled around you. Trent followed close behind, which made everything feel more secure. You turned to face him, feeling the weight of everything you shared earlier. “Tonight was a lot,” you said, giving him a tired smile. He nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm glad you told me.”

You sighed, feeling exhaustion hit you at once. “You needed to know.” His hands found your waist and pulled you into him, “I’m still not going anywhere, Y/N.” You rested your head against his chest, letting his heartbeat soothe your thoughts. “I'm so sleepy,” you muttered against his shirt. “Let's get some sleep then, yeah? It’s late,” he said softly, guiding you to the bed.

Once you climbed in, you fell asleep nearly instantly as Trent wrapped his arm protectively around you. Your phones were still pinging with notifications, they never really stopped honestly. Trent glanced at the screen as more people pieced together your 'soft launch'—if you could even call it that. He smirked to himself, shaking his head at the chaos that ensued tonight. He reached over gently, grabbing both phones and put them on silent.

While the two of you rested, the world outside hadn't stopped. The internet sleuths were in full force, your phones pinging silently as notifications poured in. The aftermath of tonight's not-so-subtle soft launch had the internet working overtime, piecing together clues you didn't realize were even there.

@.TarotQueenMystic Just pulled some cards for Trent and Y/N: ‘The Lovers’, ‘The Tower’, and ‘Nine of Swords’. This connection is seriously intense but they're about to hit a turning point. ‘The Lovers’ card shows a true deep bond..but ‘The Tower’? That's a warning. Something is about to shake up their world for sure. ‘Nine of Swords’ shows some sleepless nights ahead. Things are definitely going to go up in smoke before they get better! Something or someone could bring it all down, but it’s all a part of the universe’s plan. Stay tuned 🔮✨

@.FanFicReality ngl it feels like we’re being edged bc wtf is this supposed to mean? hello???

@.premierleagueprincess i was today years old when i realised i need a tarot reader on speed dial for my ship omg!!

@.LFCQueen Not the tower card...ain’t that the one where everything goes to shit? 😳

@.soccerchicTX I knew something felt cosmic about them! The lovers card is fate babes. They’re endgame if they can get through this

@.TuberosaConspiracy Omg guys Y/N uses tuberose in almost every collection. It’s all about intense love and dangerous attraction. Coincidence? I think NOT!!!

@.ImTalkingToYouReaders Tuberose means WHAT?!! We’ve been sleeping on these perfume easter eggs!!

im glad y’all told me u wanted angst bc now i’m feeling a bit chaotic 🥳

thank you for reading! 💌

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander x reader #footballer x y/n #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold imagine #footballer x reader #taa x reader #trent alexander x you

98 notes · View notes

devilstruly · 6 months ago

Text

TRUE BEAUTY

pairing - kuroo tetsuro x gn. reader

includes - mutual pining, not really confessing but also not being very subtle about it either, late night talking, commenting on the plot of a kdrama. y/n mentioned once but i promise i had a good reason

a/n - this is mostly inspired by my internal monologue while watching the show, ergo the reader is rooting for seo-jun (i'm biased sorry). also reader is ticklish. i know it's another kuroo one i'm sorry but this man is so ugh

1.14 am

‘That's fucking adorable! Fuckkkk, why is he so cute! Oh my god!’

You found yourself snuggled into Kuroo's side comfortably, with his arm draped over the back of the couch and a blanket shared between the two of you.

‘What the fuck is cute about that?!’ He rolled his eyes at your reaction, his arm flailing around to emphasize his words.

‘He's making up rumors about them dating!’

‘Yeah because he likes her! He just doesn't know how to express his feelings, okay? He's traumatized.’

‘Everyone is traumatized, that's not an excuse. Plus, don't you always say it's best to be upfront about things?’

‘He is being upfront about it! She's just oblivious!’

'Like you would know.'

Kuroo turned his head to the side slightly so he could mumble a response, quietly enough so that you couldn't pick up on it.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing. I just can't believe you're making excuses for that asshole.’

Hadn't it been for you being very deeply invested into the drama as well, you would definitely giggle at Kuroo's persistence.

But alas, that wasn't the case.

‘That's because he has a bike and good fashion sense.’

Kuroo huffed. ‘What's with you and bikes?’

While stating your answer, you shifted your position slightly so you'd be more comfortable, and in addition, almost naturally, Kuroo's arm wrapped around your shoulder to pull you closer.

‘They're cool.’ You replied with a grin, to which Kuroo huffed again. ‘Oh and, I like his eyes too. They're similar to yours.’

Not thinking much of your words, you continued to watch the show unfold, head resting on Kuroo's chest. You had almost forgotten about what you said, but Kuroo finally broke the silence after a while.

‘You like my eyes?’

Barely paying attention to the television, he now faced you fully, thankful to the darkness of the room for hiding his blush.

‘Hm? Oh yeah.’ As you finally acknowledged the proximity when you lifted your head, you could feel a blush of your own starting to creep up on your neck.

‘They're really pretty.’ You added after not being able to look away from the golden hues for god knows which time.

With a small smile you went back to your initial position, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself whilst Kuroo tried his best to process the newly received information.

2.01 am

‘No! No, you dumb fuck! Ugh!’

A loud groan echoed in the room before you covered your face with your hands in agony. Kuroo's hand was patting your back gently, though not very sincerely since he was wearing a satisfied expression as he watched the screen.

‘There there.’

‘Fuck off, you like this!’

With a huff you untangled yourself from Kuroo's limbs, scooting all the way to the other end of the couch.

‘I just think it works better!’ Kuroo himself raised his hands in defense, but his smile remained.

‘Bullshit! He is clearly the better option! He treats her so much better!’

‘But they're already dating and she loves her boyfriend. Besides, nothing's wrong with him either.’

‘No it's not, but Seo-jun is simply better.’

‘You're just biased because he has a bike.’

‘I'm not! I mean yeah that's a plus, but not that important! He even gave her the keys, come on!’

‘Oh so if it were you, you'd dump Soo-ho?’

You immediately recognized the sly undertone in Kuroo's voice and huffed whilst you turned to face him.

‘That's not what I'm saying. And she shouldn't dump him. She shouldn't be with him in the first place. Ugh, this is why relationships are dumb.’

This seemed to get the man's attention, and he readjusted his position on the couch, now barely looking at the TV.

‘You don't want a relationship?’ His tone became much softer than the previous question, which to you was a clear indicator that the conversation had suddenly become serious.

You chose to write the change off as the late hour delirium.

‘I mean…it's not that I don't want it, it's just like- not right now. I don't know. I mean if the person I like is - um - will be someone I can't imagine my life without, then I'd drop this…way of thinking.’

‘Oh.’

The one syllable Kuroo managed to get out had you turning your head towards him in confusion, only to be met with the sight of him mumbling something under his breath.

Opting not to point it out at the moment, you tried to distract him instead.

‘And you?’ His head shot up in an instant. ‘What's your take on relationships?’

Suddenly looking anywhere but you, Kuroo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, making you raise your eyebrows as a silent way of urging him to reply.

‘Uh…I don't- well- that's a lot of work that I don't have time for. But I think they're…great.’

He mentally cursed himself for his choice of words.

‘So…’ You began, a dangerously serious expression on your face. ‘...If you were to like someone that liked you back…what would you do?’

Patiently waiting for an answer, you hugged your knees to your chest and rested your cheek on top of them. Unable to formulate a reply, Kuroo blinked a couple of times before taking a deep breath and slowly letting the words leave his mouth.

‘I suppose…I would ask them out.’

‘Oh? Good to know.’ Your eyes widened in surprise, and a teasing smile graced your features before you turned your attention back towards the television.

On the contrary, Kuroo still sat frozen in place, eyes glued to your side profile.

‘Wh- what do you mean good to know?! For what?!’

‘Shhhh, I'm watching my husband.’

‘Nuh uh. Explain.’

Your attempts to distract your friend proved futile and with a frustrated sigh you defended yourself.

‘There's nothing to explain!’

‘Yes there is.’

‘Not.’

‘y/n.’

‘Tetsuro.’

‘Oh so we're on Tetsuro now?’

The sudden change in Kuroo's tone was drastic enough to cause you to tense, not turning to face him for the sake of saving youtself from a heart attack.

‘I- forget I said that.’ You blurted out once you finally mustered up the courage to look at him. As quickly as you said that you turned your head back around, failing to notice an idea flash across Kuroo's face.

Shuffling sounds reached your ears but you paid them no mind, until you felt a pair of hands tickling your sides. On instinct you squealed and flinched away, but with the man's quick reflexes it made no difference.

‘Wait wait- stop! Kuroo!’ You managed to get out between tears of laughter and uncontrollable shaking, much to Kuroo's entertainment.

‘I'll stop when you explain yourself.’ The smile on his face kept growing by each passing moment whilst your cries became louder.

‘I will! Just- stop- please!’ Your words were barely audible by this point, but Kuroo decided to be generous and simply flopped on top of you.

With his ear right above your heart, he could feel the rapid thumps and the heavy breathing whilst you tried to calm down.

It was once you finally managed to get your senses back that you became aware of your position, and so your heart rate remained quick as it was.

‘Kuroo?’

‘Hm?’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Me? Nothing ~’

Even though it was hard to see, you could practically feel the smile on his face growing. However, not minding the situation much, your hands threaded through his hair curiously and in return Kuroo became more at ease.

3.46 am

‘Kuroo.’

‘I'm sleeping.’

‘Then go to bed.’

‘Just one more episode.’

The drowsiness started enveloping him progressively, yet he made no effort to acknowledge it - and neither did you.

‘Fine.’

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff

154 notes · View notes

smok3r7 · 5 months ago

Text

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Can It Work?

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Your first case doesn’t go as planned or at least not how you wanted it to go. Are you fit for this?

Word count: 4.3k

Season 8, Ep. 8 “The Wheels on the Bus” is incorporated in this chapter, I hope you guys enjoy, I had a fun time with this one<3

—

As you sit in the black leather office chair, staring at Aaron with pure intentions, your hands grip the armrests tightly to conceal their shaking. The cold air in the room makes you shiver, but you will not let him see your vulnerability. Aaron's piercing gaze meets yours, and you feel the nerves inside you threatening to unravel.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, pleading your facade will hold. Despite the icy chill running through your veins, a fire burns within you, a fierce determination to face whatever challenge lies ahead. You square your shoulders, meeting Aaron's gaze head-on, a silent battle of yearning unraveling between you.

You refuse to let fear control you or take over, ready to confront whatever obstacles you’ll face.

But when Aaron's gaze wanders from your eyes to the glinting gold chain peeking out from beneath your button-up shirt, a rush of anticipation courses through you. With bated breath, you observe the subtle shift in his demeanor as his pupils dilate upon catching sight of the golden heart pendant that he gave you so many years ago.

In that moment, a strong sense of satisfaction wraps around you, knowing that he has noticed the intimate piece of jewelry nestled against your skin. You can almost feel the invisible thread of connection tightening between you, a silent acknowledgement passing between the stares to one another.

"So how've ya been?" you ask into the cold office.

He takes a moment before replying, moving his amber orbs back to yours, "I’ve been fine, just trying to stay on top of everything. You?"

You're hesitant to tell Aaron, so you give a quick response. "I've been busy, but good." Despite the smile on your face, Aaron senses something off. He looks at you intently, waiting for more. You can feel the weight of your secret pressing on your chest, threatening to spill out at any moment. But you push it down, putting on the facade of normalcy.

The truth is, things have been far from good. You've been struggling with something that you're not ready to share yet. There are just some things that shouldn’t be shared immediately, and the fact that you still have feelings for him, is one of them. But you almost feel compelled to tell him, but the need to keep this job fights that feeling.

"We can’t let…whatever this is-” You point your finger to yourself, back to him, and to yourself again, “Get in between the job. It just can’t.” You express it mainly to Aaron but also as a reminder to yourself. “People are counting on us to help them and their community. Our problems are minuscule to theirs.”

Aaron nods in agreement, his determination matching yours. "I agree," he nods, "We both can be professional, right? As long as that happens, you will be a perfect fit to the team."

“I can keep things professional. It’s my forte,” you chime as you stand up and soothe your button up. “It was nice to meet you, Aaron Hotchner.” You figure this is a chance for you both to start over again, you reach your hand over his desk, waiting for him in return. The unexpected warmth in his smile caught you off guard as he reciprocated your handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, dear.” In that moment, the icy facade of Aaron Hotchner melts away, revealing a glimpse of the person behind the stern exterior. The person who once used to be your person. The person who you used to love.

As you walk out of his office, you can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. And little did you know - this encounter marks the beginning of an unexpected connection that unfolds in the weeks to come.

—

“Abducting a bus, a form of transportation, gas masks, shock collars, dividing people into teams. This sounds a lot like Gods of Combat." Rossi announces, but the room stares at him in pure disbelief that the older Italian man knows something about video games. “This is a video game.” He backs himself up, shrugging his shoulders just a bit.

“These guys are replicating a video game?” Derek asks, almost jokingly folding his arms in front of his broad chest as he leans against a desk.

Rossi nods his head and moves towards the big round table, pointing at crime scene photos, “In the game, you take over a form of public transportation. Subway, train, bus. That's how you get your players.”

“Wait a minute. You've played this game before?” You blurt out, you truly are taken aback by Rossi knowing so much about this so-called game. You lean back in the office chair and stretch your legs out in front of you, folding your arms against your chest.

“Well, I may have played it once or twice. But, with how similar it is… it seems like they definitely pre-selected these kids.” Rossi moves his eyes between the whole team.

“I’m sure they got all the kids' personal information from social media sites and they knew when the kids would be most vulnerable. And which bus route they’d be on.” JJ bounces her thoughts to everyone, with which you all agree.

“How do you win this game?” You and Hotch ask at the same time, even though you’re on opposite sides of the table. The whole room goes quiet and the awkward stares between you and Aaron begin, but you try to stay focused on Rossi who apparently knows it all.

You can’t help yourself from looking over to Aaron once more, you instantly see him looking at you but not at your face. You calmly raise your right hand to the golden heart that lays high on your chest. His eyes move off of you faster than the speed of light, almost too fast to catch, but you do.

You’ve caught him staring at it a dozen times since the first day you saw him after so many years, it’s like he can’t stop because he can’t believe after a decade you still have it, let alone wear it.

Two peas in a pod, Derek mumbles to himself as he turns around and fills his second cup of coffee of the morning. You can’t help the small smirk that quickly appears, but you pull it down before too many people notice. But still playing with the small heart.

“Well… That’s why we gotta hurry up and find them. Because the player with the highest body count wins.”

Your stomach drops instantly. You weren’t expecting that information, because now if you are too late to find these kids, they could all end up dead. That responsibility alone, terrifying.

—

The FBI vest clings to your sweaty body as you carefully make your way through the dimly lit building. Your arms feel like stone and jello at the same time, the weight of responsibility heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the physical strain, your mind remains sharp and focused. You have a mission to accomplish - to save the innocent children trapped in this nightmare.

As you navigate through the dark abandoned corridors, you hear faint cries echoing in the distance, urging you to move faster. These kids don’t deserve the horrors that await them.

With each step, you draw closer to the source of the cries, and your heart pounds in anticipation. You prepare yourself for what lay ahead, ready to confront whatever challenges stood in the way of rescuing the children and bringing them to safety.

Continuing to navigate the dark abandoned factory with your team, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, with Derek leading the way and Aaron covering the rear.

Your heart races as you watch Derek check a hallway to his left, prompting you to swiftly move towards the doorway on the right. With your gun raised, you enter the room and release a silent breath as you find it empty. The tension is high as you three press on, each step echoing in the empty space.

“Just shut up!” Echoes through the cement hallways, in the direction Derek’s heading towards. The three of you quicken your pace, still checking rooms that appear here and there. The arguing becomes louder and louder, until Derek tells you and Hotch to stop along the wall while he slowly moves into the open room, where you can only assume are the unsubs.

“FBI, drop your weapon!” he yells out, “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I'm here to help you.” You glance at Hotch to make sure he’s thinking the same thing as you. Which he must because he nods once, allowing you to slowly follow Morgan and he follows you.

As the tension hangs in the air, you announce your credentials and last name, followed by Hotch doing the same. The three of you spread out cautiously, not wanting to startle the unsub and trigger a dangerous or harmful reaction. A group of a dozen or more kids are behind a chain link fence with a padlock on the door portion, and two of them have dog shock collars on.

Each step you take feels deliberate, every movement calculated to maintain control of the situation. But from the look of things, you can tell this isn’t going to go smoothly. Your gut instinct is in overtime.

Knowing that one wrong move could escalate the already precarious situation. The stakes are high, and as you brace yourself for whatever might unfold, the weight of the moment is nearly suffocating. But yet, you are calm, cool, and collected.

The brown haired boy looks no older than seventeen, this must be the younger brother, the least dangerous of the two. “C’mon kid, we don’t wanna hurt you,” you firmly plead with him, his gun still aimed at Morgan but his eyes on you. You’re not sure what convinces him to do it, but he lowers the gun to the ground and puts his hands behind his head.

Go, Hotch tells Derek to cuff the kid. But before he gets to the seventeen year old, his older brother comes around the corner with his gun aimed directly at you. Instinctively, you shoot, hitting him dead center in his chest.

A deafening shot echoes in the narrow space. Shock and disbelief mingles with the smell of gunpowder as the reality of the irreversible act sinks in. You watch as the dark brown haired man hits the wall behind him and quickly sinks down to the dirty cold floor, motionless.

You stand frozen in disbelief, a faint screaming from the kids going in one ear and out the other. Your hands tremble, but your grip on the gun remains steady, pointed at the fallen figure before you. In that moment, time seems to stand still as the weight of what you just did settles in. It wasn't just any man you had shot – it was the slick unsub you had been hunting down for days.

The gravity of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Your first case on the job, and you have taken a life. The scenes of your own life play out in your mind, a blur of memories and emotions. If you hadn’t taken action, you would be the one on the floor…not him.

You acted on pure instinct, driven by adrenaline and the need to protect the victims, your team, and yourself. But now, as you stare down at the consequences of your actions, you know that this moment will change you.

“A-are you okay?” Aaron’s voice is faint as he asks repeatedly, which shakes you awake from your panic. His right hand on the top of your gun, where your fingers are still tightly wrapped around the handle. You let him take it from your hands, but you still stand there motionless as you stare at the body no more than five feet away from you.

“I will be.”

—

As the sun sets over the horizon, creating this painting-like sky with the brightest oranges and pinks melting into each other, Emily and Derek sit across from you at the jet table, waiting to hear your thoughts about the job. You take a deep breath, trying to gather the many thoughts you have as you begin to debrief them.

You tell them about the adrenaline rush of cracking the case, the satisfaction of bringing justice to the victims. But you also fired your weapon for the first time and ended up killing him, and even though he was your unsub and an evil person - you still took a life.

You’re battling inside if you want to share these thoughts, but this is the time to be truthful about how you’re dealing with something so heavy. It’s the moment you have to decide if this job works for you or not, because if it doesn’t then you have to move on to something else for work, which is okay to do.

“I think I’m just… Still in shock? I’m not sure…” You state but it comes out as more of a question than anything. “I know this guy was the worst, but having to kill him still doesn’t sit right with me.” Leaning back just enough in your seat where your lower back releases some tension in your sore body, “But at the same time… It- it does.”

Morgan and Emily both chuckle to themselves, but in a sympathetic rather than mocking manner. “You may feel that way for a while, or a little bit. First time, it took me two days to get back to myself again. I just didn’t feel real or good about myself, I guess, is the best way to explain it,” Emily truthfully tells you, taking a sip of water to follow as she glances to her right, where Morgan sits.

“It took me a day, but that day felt like months. I almost didn’t come to work the next day… But when I woke up, I told myself that it was me or him. I ultimately had to do it.” Morgan admits, “That’s all you can do.”

You give a forced smile as you play with your fingers and he stands up with his headphones and phone in hand as he moves towards the long couch behind you. But before he passes you, he gently lays his hand on your shoulder. Take your time, he sincerely tells you.

It finally hits you, the importance of having a team that truly cares about each other can make all the difference in the world. Emily and Morgan's unwavering support is your anchor in this weird time in your life.

However, a part of you yearns for Aaron's reassuring presence; his comforting words and warm embrace are sorely missed. A simple, I’m glad you’re safe, would bring you back to solid ground immediately.

—

“Can we talk?”

As you reach your desk the voice you’ve been wanting to hear so bad, finally it’s here. Even though you just wanna go home and escape from this nightmare of a case, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity of being with Aaron.

“I’ll meet you in your office, gotta use the ladies room.”

Aaron nods his head and turns back towards his office, speaking with Morgan about something, it turns to mumbles as you get farther. As you walk down the hallway towards the bathrooms, you hear the distant sounds of chatter and laughter from the bustling office. You’re surprised how many people are still at work, considering it’s close to midnight.

You quicken your pace, eager to get back to Aaron's office. As you enter the empty corporate bathroom, you take a deep breath and try to calm your racing thoughts.

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

After a few moments of deep breathing and building yourself up, you splash some water on your face and stare at your reflection in the mirror. Everything from these past few days replay in your mind, each detail vivid and haunting. Sticking to you like leather seats on a hot day, ripping your skin. You shake your head, willing yourself to focus on one thing at a time.

With a determined look, you straighten your shoulders and head back towards Aaron's office. Quantico may never sleep, but neither do you when there’s work to be done - since you fired your weapon, paperwork is necessary.

On your way back to his office you spot Reid, Emily, and JJ waiting for the elevator, looking ready to go home and sleep. I wish that was me.

JJ calls you over with her arms open, waiting for you. Your face warm with a smile, you go to her and welcome her warm embrace that’s full of love and worry. Her motherly traits have become a huge part of JJ’s personality that it pours out of her at this point. And you’re glad she’s here.

“You’ll be okay.”

“Thank you… You guys get some sleep.” You tell them, wanting to say you’ll see them tomorrow, but you’re not sure if you will.

“You too,” Reid tells you with a small smile on his face, one you haven’t seen much of yet, but you’d like to.

The elevator dings and opens, you step back with a small wave as they walk in and return one to you as the metal doors close. Inhaling deeply, you start your journey back to his office over again with the only intent to listen.

“What’re you still doin’ here?” you question Derek, who’s at his desk busy with what looks to be paperwork of some kind.

“Gotta tell the director it was a good shooting,” he responds, putting his pen down on his desk, he takes in the sight of you standing across from him for a moment, “You’re doin’ well, I can tell you’ll be a good part of the team already.”

You smile and tell him thank you, and to have a good night, which he reciprocates with a playful wink. You like Derek a lot, he’s a great guy all around and he can lighten the mood quickly when things get too serious or he asks the hard questions - the ones that need to be asked.

Walking to what almost feels like the lion's den, you’re nervous. Even though you trust this man with your life, it’s impressive and intimidating he made it as far as the Unit Chief. The relationship now being a boss and employee one, it scares you just enough - your career is in the palm of his hands, he can do whatever he wants.

Without really preparing yourself you knock on the door that’s slightly ajar, come in, and you do without a second thought. Swiftly taking a seat in the same black leather chair as when you first joined the team. You swear you see Aaron wipe his eyes so the tears won’t show, but you don’t say anything.

"I'm sorry you had to do that today," Aaron confesses with a tone you haven’t heard in forever, his amber eyes filled with regret and worry. "I should've been on top of it, that's my fault." His words hang heavy in the air, laden with genuine remorse.

You can see that he means every word he's telling you as he reaches out to comfort you and make sure you’re dealing with this situation the best you can. As you look into his sincere eyes, a wave of gratitude washes over you, knowing that his support is unwavering and is still in him.

Even after a decade, this man still looks out for you and honestly, really cares about you and your well-being. That’s something you don’t find too often anymore… A bond like this one is sacred and holds a lot of meaning

“Don’t be… I had to learn one way or another,” you naturally bicker back, “So now it’s done and out the way.” Shrugging your shoulders, but your right leg bounces rapidly from your anxiety of today. It’s starting to catch up to you and you’re not the only one to notice it.

Aaron doesn’t need to move his eyes to know what’s going on, he just knows. “Well, I’m gonna do your paperwork for you because you need to get home and sleep.” He leans forward with his hands folded together on his desk full of papers and folders. You try to protest but he’s not having any of it, he barks your name to stop your rambling protests - which works like always.

He stands up and moves to your right side, putting his hand out in front of you for you to take. You hesitantly place your hand in his, feeling a jolt of electricity run through you as he gently pulls you up from the seat. As you rise to your feet, there's an undeniable spark between the two of you, like there was back in college.

In that moment, time seems to stand still as you both lock eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that fleeting moment, you kiss him passionately, like you’ve been wanting to since you first laid eyes on him. Your hands naturally find their place on the back of his head, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails.

Aarons body reacting like yours; his hands finding their home on your hips and his tongue gliding its way to yours, itching to take over. It seems like he missed you just as much as you missed him, which you thought was virtually impossible.

But just like that, you stop. What am I doing? He’s my boss…I can’t be doin’ this. What the fuck?

You pull away hesitantly, Aaron sighing but doing the same as he takes one step backwards to give you space. At least he understands, even without words yet again. You open your mouth to say that you’re sorry and that you should’ve known better, but nothing comes out - practically speechless.

As Aaron's voice whispers, "Goodnight," the office feels heavy with unspoken emotions. His words are filled with both sincerity and sorrow, a reflection of the lingering sadness in his heart. You hesitate to walk away, feeling the weight of his feelings and the depth of his longing. It was clear that he struggled to hold back his emotions, for he had missed you the same as you did him.

Before leaving, you give him a smile you haven’t made since that last year in college and you know that he recognizes it. In that moment, you realized the depth of his feelings and the strength of his unspoken love. And as you leave his office, a mix of emotions wash over you, leaving you both yearning for a connection that seemed just out of reach.

—

As you sit in the comfort of your home, a couple hours after you got home and showered as much of the scum off of you as you could, and you still feel sick. Now you’re wrapped up in a soft blanket while Golden Girls plays on your tv in front of you, and a bottle of vodka that you take shots of here and there.

The weight of the case crushes down on you, just as Emily and Morgan had warned.

The image of the kids behind the fence, some with shock collars on, and the man slumped on the ground from your gun burns your retinas, you can’t escape it. The tears finally flow freely, a release long overdue. Something you haven’t been able to do and you thought you wouldn’t, but you are.

The first night back is always the toughest, Emily’s voice reminds you that this is normal, the silence echoing the chaos left behind.

The weight of the case you carry is supposed to hit you hard in the beginning - a reminder that you're only human. But you can’t grasp the idea of being able to kill a person without a second thought… Even though your life and others were in danger, it still seems invalid.

Setting down the glass bottle on the floor, you lay on your side with tears pooling on your pillow. The images on tv are all a blur, you can only hear the sounds of Dorthy and Sophia bickering about Stan. Your stomach twisting itself inside out and back again, your temples pounding, and your heart confused.

For multiple reasons.

Your brain flips from the indescribable memories from the case, to the unforgettable memories with Aaron in his office. The two things couldn’t be more different, it’s like comparing apples to bananas, it just can’t be done.

Emotions swirl within you, trying to find their place in the chaos. It’s hard to distinguish the good feelings from the bad ones right now, the line between them blurred by the weight of the situations. It feels like you should be more upset, more focused on the bad, but somewhere deep inside, a small spark of hope refuses to be extinguished.

As you lay your head down, exhaustion seeping through your bones, fighting the liquor that runs through your blood, a glimmer of hope flickers within you. Despite the battle within, you hold on to that fragile shard of optimism.

Maybe there can be a fix to the wound you have from him, maybe not. But what you do know is this; You are fit for this job and you will continue to be a part of the BAU.

138 notes · View notes

pynkgothicka · 1 year ago

Note

Inspired by one of your reblogged posts..

I really want to see dark! misogynistic Jason Todd with a somewhat innocent! girlfriend. He was so sweet to her until they started dating; Now he just can't be bothered with her. He consults his friends about it on COD, or some other incel hangout, and they advise him to put reader in her place.

He comes home one day to reader laying in bed on her phone and he just can't seem to control himself. He's spewing out degrading thoughts, about how he's just so sweet to her and all she can do is complain, and not even be grateful that Jason's using his precious time to breed and lay his claim her needy cunt. Using and absolutely destroying her like the plaything she is.

(also, can i be 🐢 anon? i feel like I'll be returning to you for a while.. i love ur work!)

ＩｍａｇｉｎｉｎｇＪＳＴ

Pairing - Dark! Misogynistic! Incel! Jason Todd x Innocent! Girlfriend! AFAB! Reader

Featuring - Rest of the Batboys

Tags and Warnings - Incel behavior, noncon, name calling, misogyny, medication, gaslighting, degrading, abuse, violence against oc/reader

Authors Note - Back tew my roots!!!! And ofc I would love to finally have anons!! Also sorry this took eons-

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Jason watched you in your shared small apartment. He couldn't figure out what went wrong between the two of you. It started whenever he moved in. Jason was never so used to having somewhere there 24/7.

You were just so needy and particular.

“Jason? Baby… what do you want for dinner tonight?” You ask coming to sit by him. Your hands ran over his arm and kissing at his visable scars. Jason pulled away from you, the feeling making his skin tingle.

He watched as your face fell and you sigh before getting up and grabbing your purse. “I'm going grab something to eat tonight. Please remember to take your medicine.” You say heading to the door and leaving.

“I don't need them.” Jason replied quickly looking at you as you straightened up the living room before leaving. “I told you about reminding me to do shit.”

Jason watched as you just sighed again. “I tell you because I want you to be better baby. I don't want to keep doing things alone, I just want us to be better.” You said doting once again, keeping your sweet nature with Jason. But he only saw that as pity and he hated it. He hissed before rolling his eyes and getting up, the couch going back by his sheer strength. “I don't care what's for dinner. Just get out.”

💭

“I don't know what to do with her. She's just so fucking annoying.” Jason rambles into his microphone. He was playing COD with some online friends. One of his friends, N1ghtVV1ng laughs into his own mic.

“Well what is she doing huh? My girl treats me just right, and even allows me to fuck whenever I want.” He taunts. Jason rolled his eyes at his friends comments. “And she's so tight, god I trained her right.”

“Dude that's so gross.” RedRobinYum, another one of his friends said.

“Well, she just keeps bothering me. Then whenever I try to ask for something she just reminds me to take my meds.” Jason sneered. “Its the same shit, all these dumb questions. I just want her to stay with me and not bug me.”

“Well have you tried putting her in her place? Show her what you want from her.” DamitheBest says. Jason hummed at that suggestion.

“She's just so fragile, I'm afraid she might bre-”

“Get that shit out of your mind now.” Dami says. “Show her who's the boss before she does. Women will kick you to the curb and leave you for someone who'll tolerate that shit they pull.”

“Literally don't listen to these freaks, sit down and talk to her.” RedRobin chimes in. “With any relationship just talk it out, trust me I do that with my partner and we just talk everything out.”

Jason could hear Dami make a buzzer noise that almost broke his mic. “Nope, don't listen to him. Red, he's gotta put his foot down. Cut out any disobedience from his girl.”

Jason looked down at that, the thought of hurting you almost sickeningly turned him on. Dami was right and had always been. Jason just needed to man up and confront you.

💭

“What are you doing?”

You turn around from your spot on the bed too see Jason, standing in the doorway. You smile before getting back on your phone, his voice making you feel better that he's still around.

Yet majority of the time, Jasons voice always brought you a sense of worry and hurt. Worrying so much for and about him made you into someone who barely cared for yourself. It was always Jason, and everything you did was for him.

“Nothing really, I'm just kind of bored.” You reply. Jason stares at you, face blank. His eyes leered at your body as you just so casually laid down. Almost as if just waiting for you to say something. Anything.

“Your not going to bug me to take my meds?” Jason practically spat out. You turned around moving to where you sat on the bed. “Not gonna ask me to take out the trash, help around the apartment?

You furrow your brows. “What? Why are you talking to me like that?” You asked looking at him. “I- What did I do?”

“You dont like it when someone stands against you?” He replied completely ignoring your question. Everything about Jason's words and demeanor frightened you. It was like he genuinely hated you.

You stood up walking towards him slowly. “Jay… it's okay. I think you're having a episode…” You say keeping your voice low. Jason's chest came up and down as he kept getting more and more enraged. You reached out a hand to touch his arm, but Jason pushed you away. Your lower back hit the vanity you both built when you moved in.

“You think I'm having a episode?! Of course you do, you don't just think I'm pissed?” He replied moving to tower over you. You put a hand on the vanity to stand back up. Your chest heaved as your lungs tried to keep up with your heart. You pushed past him leaving through the bedroom door.

Back burning, you looked for your keys. “I'm done with this, all I want is what's best for you. But you've treated me like shit, and I'm done with it.” You said seeing reaching for your keys.

But they were picked up and thrown across the room.

Jason pushed your head against your kitchen island. You groaned out and began to thrash around. Jason snarled at you, keeping you detained.

Hr laughed in your face and seemingly just waited for you to calm down. “I like it when your quiet.” He said leaning down to kiss the back of your head. Your breathing shuddered as you began to cry quietly. Jason reveled in your weakness a hand resting on the back of your neck, the other on your back.

“What did I do Jason … What did I do so wrong…?” You said, your words breaking with your own tears.

“Get on my nerves… I'm such a good boyfriend, yet all you do is complain. I'm sick of that, so I'm going to change it.” Then you feel Jason's arm brush against you as he reached for the kitchen scissors. “Stay still, unless you want to get hurt. I could care either less.” He said as he took the scissors to your shirt. Cutting down the fabric, leaving you exposed as you chose not to wear a bra.

Starting to kick at Jason again, flipping around to try and get away. That attempt was failed, as Jason took your throat in hand, slamming your head back onto the counter. Your vision blurred on impact as he took off your shirt completely. The impact made you dizzy and start to become unaware. Jason saw that, and quickly took advantage of it, kissing at your neck.

He was going to get himself off.

It was what you owed him.

His kisses trailed down to your stomach, tongue dipping into every dip in your skin. You let out dazed cries as tears poured down your cheek. “You've always been so gorgeous. Don't you see how good you could have it?” Jason commented quietly as he pulled down your sweatpants along with your panties. He blew on your cunt, watching just how wet you became at his actions. “Do I have to keep beating you for you to keep still.”

Biting at your bottom lip to hold back tears you shake your head. He smiled as you shivered from his breathing. Jason pushed his head into your cunt, lapping at your exposed pussy. You bit at your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, just once you wanted to be stronger than what you actually were. But Jason knew you, his hand coming down on your ass, making you yelp out. “Stop that, I want to hear you.” He said into your cunt as he continued to eat you out.

But Jason is Jason.

And Jason is selfish.

He only eats you out close enough to make you cum. He pulls away with the bottom half of of his face coated in your juices. You grabbed at the counter top, full on sobbing. “Please… Jay. Stop we can ta-” Jason's hand came crashing down next to your head, the sound of tile making you cry out more.

“You had your chance. You had multiple chances to talk, but you didn't. So now I'm putting you in your place.” He said, ignoring any protests you had. You could hear him undo his pants, the taunting noise of his zipper making your cries only louder. A dribble of spit hits your cunt, Jason's palm coming down to rub at your cunt. “Now shhh, while you take this dick.”

You let out a yell as Jason pushes his length all the way into you. He sits there, breathing heavy and labored.

His eyes stayed fixated on your pussy, swallowing his cock. He pulled out then pushed back in, your walls clamping on his length. His groans were deep as he took no time for you to adjust, fucking into you. Your body shook and shuddered as he held you down, using you for his own pleasure.

“You're so pretty like this,” Jason said his body pounding into your own. You continued to whimper under him, feeling your body become weak. His hand tangled in the mess he had made of your hair, using his strength to pull you up. “You need to be like this all the time, then I wouldn't have to deal with a bitch for a girlfriend.” He snickered into your ear. He said it like it was a threat, or a suggestion you couldn't turn down.

So you nodded in agreeance, his smile turning wicked as he fucked into you. You could feel his hips stutter as he reached his peak. Jason's hand moved to your clit as he rubbed at your bud. “You better cum with me or I'll keep raping this cunt.” That quickly snapped you back to reaily. The realization of needing to end the abuse he put you through, you tried feeling pleasure from the trauma he was putting you through.

Then you feel it. The feeling of you cumming alongside your cunt getting filled. You let out a choked gasp, Jason groaning as he filled you to the brim. His hand grabbed at your ass as he hissed. He pulled out watching as a dribbles of his cum dropped from your abused cunt. He quickly pushed it back into you with two thick fingers. Jason snickered before pulling up his boxers, leaving his jeans on the ground.

“Clean up in here, I'm getting back on the game.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @fangirl-death-rose @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops

#dark writing #tw dark content #tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere blog #tw gaslighting #yandere jason todd #dark jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd #yandere dc #dark dc #dc smut #dc fanfic #tw violence #tw abuse #tw noncon

391 notes · View notes

stxrshxpxd · 9 months ago

Text

“i can hardly breathe around you”

paring: 90s damon albarn x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut

prompt: reader finds herself in an inappropriate dream about her oldest and best friend, and when she moans his name he responds.

I was somewhere between sleeping and waking and Damon’s hands were keeping me in my dream, wrapping tightly around my waist as his lips attached to my neck. I squirmed under him, panting and moaning in desperation for more, and when his fingers squeezed my flesh harder I let out a whimper of his name. For a few seconds it all felt right. He continued kissing down my neck, until he suddenly replied and everything ripped from me in an instant. His hands, his lips, his breath on my skin, all gone.

“Y/N?” my best friend of fifteen years asked in a soft voice and stared me down from next to me on my bed. He grimaced with confusion and concern. Reality flooded back to me in a heartbeat and I remembered we had been watching TV on my bed, we had both gradually lost interest, he had muted it and picked up his book, and I had slipped into a nap. Then I had moaned his name and clearly not just in my dreams.

“Yes?” I breathed, deciding to play dumb.

“Care to share your dream?” Damon asked, eyes fixed on me and book splayed open against his chest. Some amusement had joined the confusion in his face. My pulse quickened.

I quite literally couldn’t find in my brain what to say to him and all I could do was watch the emotions evolve in his expressions.

I had been beating myself up for a while because something had happened about a month ago and I had completely lost my mind, I thought. Seeing my best friend in a non-platonic light was simply unthinkable. But, gosh, that soft stare of his and that bottom lip gently caught between his teeth!

“Will you close your eyes?” he asked after too long a silence on my end.

I stared at him instead, for a long time, barely breathing. He asked again and I recognised something stirring wildly in his gaze. I couldn’t remember anything ever having been this serious between us before. It frightened me and I resorted to doing what he asked of me.

With my breath shallow and shaky and eyes softly closed, at last I felt Damon’s lips gently press against mine. My brain stopped working for a minute but then the only thing I could think to do was to reach my hand out, finding his chest was rid of the book and it was turning towards me. Closer, closer, closer. Until my hand was locked between our beating chests and he was determinedly kissing down my jaw and neck.

I wanted his lips everywhere on me and I blushed wildly at the thought. I had been doing a fine job at suppressing all these emotions for the last month, but he was making it really hard for me now.

“Damon,” I started when his lips jumped to my lower stomach and his fingers began to hook into my waistband. He glanced up from under his golden fringe and my stomach fluttered at the eye contact. My toes were twitching wildly with nerves and excitement. Really I didn’t want him to stop for even a second, but it was all so weird.

He simply smiled calmly at me and kissed my skin again while my sweatpants were pulled down my legs. That smile of his had calmed me so many times before and for the next moment I felt at ease. I even closed my eyes and let a half shaky but deep breath out, and I allowed his warm palms to spread my thighs apart.

“My god, you’re wet,” he whispered, astounded. “Dream-me is that good, huh?”

I laughed but my cheeks burned with embarrassment, impulsively trying to close my legs again and reaching to push his shoulders away. But he stayed and firmly held my legs apart.

“Hey, it’s me,” Damon reminded me in a smooth voice.

“Exactly!” I laughed nervously, finding it nearly impossible to get past the absurdity of having my best friend’s breath fan over my damp underwear while his hands clasped around the inside of my thighs. God, his hands though!

“Exactly,” he echoed in a quiet voice and raised his brows. I knew he was referring to my moaning his very name in my sleep just minutes ago, and I sighed.

Within seconds his lips were back on me again but this time they kissed me through my pants and I thought my heart jumped out of my chest for a moment. He did it again. And again. And he added more pressure and then his tongue. I screwed my eyes shut and at last couldn’t feel anything past the pleasure. For the next few minutes I could hardly recall the embarrassment, as he peeled my underwear to the side and once again buried his face in me.

“Do you wanna say my name again?” Damon tried his luck as I had begun breathing heavily and letting little moans out. His voice vibrated through my abdomen and I felt a hint of my high teasing me momentarily.

“Damon,” I whispered cautiously and felt his teeth against my hot skin as he grinned.

“Mhm,” he murmured into me again and continued lapping up my wetness with his skilled tongue, pushing me towards my edge.

“I’m gonna…” I whined but felt the embarrassment come over me again. “Fuck.. Dames!”

Calling him by his sweet nickname made me cringe for a second, but he continued smirking through his kissing and licking and sucking and I couldn’t stop my thighs from clasping around his head. The orgasm pierced through my body, making my legs tremble and my voice settle in a defeated whimper.

Quickly reality caught up with me again once I made it out of the haze and I was partly mortified as my oldest and best friend kissed up my body again and his lips reconnected with mine.

We spent an eternity kissing between shaky breaths and in my head I yelled at my cheeks until they eventually cooled a tad.

“Can we really do this?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.

“I don’t know if you were here just now but we just did,” he teased and we both laughed, my eyes still closed and our mouths constantly balancing between kissing and breathing.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

A minute passed of slightly more kissing than breathing and then it evened out again.

“Did you know lately I can hardly breathe around you?” I whispered and barely felt his lips curl into a smirk. I peaked at it slightly but made sure not to look him in the eye.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he mumbled with his smirk widening and a chuckle pouring out of him and into me. I smiled and laughed gently too.

Damon slid off of me but just about everything of his stayed touching me and his head laid just next to mine, noses grazing. There was only breathing for the better half of a minute. At last I felt our familiar comfortable silence coming back to us. I stared at his face and studied his eyes, brows, cheeks and nose and lips. Then my gaze drifted to the ledge where the wall met the ceiling and I let my mind wander to more trivial territory for a breather.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m worried what my hair will look like tomorrow if I wear it in a bun to bed,” I answered honestly and instantly I felt the hot breath of his laughter hit my face. We chuckled together and he smiled back at me with twinkling eyes.

“See, this is us!” he insisted. “We still talk about silly things and laugh. Only we have sex too.”

My cheeks flushed red again but I couldn’t stop smiling. I reached my hand out to poke my fingertips around in the side of his hair and let another few moments pass as I pondered.

“Could we also… hold hands?” I suggested, stomach fluttering anxiously again. “And kiss?”

Damon gave me a slight nod.

“And not kiss other people?”

At that his smile grew and he was quick to respond.

“I can’t remember what it’s like kissing anyone else.”

A laugh bubbled inside me and my hand caught his cheek and pressed our lips together again.

“Good job. That was the right answer,” I mumbled into our kiss.

#so i found a rough draft and finished it up :)) don’t know if this means IM BACK WRITING but enjoy this #rewriting the damon-cant-give-head narrative one smut at a time ✊🏼#lol he’s so weird we hate him huh #blur #britpop #90s #damon albarn #fic #imagine #y/n #damon albarn x reader

294 notes · View notes

goodgymboy · 8 months ago

Text

DUMB IS A JOURNEY

You’re not going to transition from brainiac to himbotic overnight. It took work to fill your mind with what’s in there now. It will take time to drain that brain. You need to commit to this. Be motivated. You need to actively change things about yourself, your behaviour and your life. Change can be scary. As you change, people are going to treat you differently. Dumb people are laughed at. You’re the butt of every joke. You’ll be talked down to, marginalised, ignored. So what drives you to want to get more shallow, stupid and docile? Knowing your motivations will help you push through the doubt, embarrassment and hesitation. Write out “I want to be dumb, because…” 10 times. Then complete the sentences. 10 reasons. This is your motivation mantra. For some of you this will be about offering a Man a blank slate. For others, it will be about the relief of finally admitting you aren’t as smart as you pretend to be. Many just want to obey without thought or hesitation. Some might find the difference between an intelligent Dom and His dim-witted jock trophy the key to their dumbest desires. Knowing your motivation is important. Figure out why you want this. Why you need this.

ACTION POINT: Reply to this message with your 10 reasons. Read them to yourself while facing yourself in the mirror. Put a video or audio of you reading them aloud on your Tumblr. Share your motivation with the world.

#hypnosis #brainwash #jocknotized #pecs #biceps #domgayhypnotist

107 notes · View notes

mytheoristavenue · 5 months ago

Text

MHA Mashirao Ojiro x Reader - Shakespeare

Summary: While sharing your reading assignment for homework, you and Ojiro find yourself accidentally confessing to one another.

Warnings: fluff, tooth-rotting sweetness, mentions of dying for one another, colored parts are quotes, old English

"What did you get for number three?" Ojiro asked, tapping his pen against his jaw, sitting cross-legged at the foot of your bed.

"Thirty-six," you answered absentmindedly, not bothering to look up as you scribbled on the page you were working on.

"No way that's right," he replied, tail flicking in annoyance behind him. "How'd you get that?"

"I can assure you, it's right." you snicker as he looked over to your paper.

"You're not even showing your work," he chided, snatching it from you.

"Mental math is a hell of a thing," you insisted, reaching for it back, failing miserably. "Now give me my paper, you cheater!"

Ojiro deadpanned, holding the page above his head. "Not even Yomomo can do calculus in her head, dummy. I know you sure as hell can't."

"Are you calling me dumb, monkey boy?" You laughed, feigning offense.

"Yes," he answered without skipping a beat, tail snatching a small device from behind you. "Stop using your calculator, you'll never learn right. And you called me a cheater."

You blushed and reached out, falling against him as you reached past his shoulder to get the calculator back from his swishing tail. "C'mon, Oji, give it back!"

He simply chuckled at you wholeheartedly, shaking his head. "You might get the right answer now but you know you'll get points deducted for not showing your process," he rationalize, pushing you away by your shoulders, holding you at arm's length with a sympathetic smile. "Plus if you don't know how to solve the problems on your own, you're gonna fail all your tests."

"I hate you, you know that?" you grumbled, giving up slumping against him.

"No, you just hate when I'm right." he snickered, patting your back. "Which is all the time."

"Shut up..." you muttered into his shoulder, hiding your face. From the outside looking in, one might think you two were cuddling but that couldn't be further from the truth. You and Ojiro were just close friends- best friends even. Best friends could have moments like these. You could hide your face in his chest and he could wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer, whispering encouragement in your ear, and it isn't weird. Right? Surely not.

"C'mon you're smart, math just isn't your thing..." he soothed, rubbing your back gently. "You're just right-brained, that's all. Let's work on something else, yeah? We'll come back to this later. You'll be able to focus better after a break." You nodded against him, your fringe tussled against his shirt as you began to pull away, peering up at him. Heat rose to your cheeks, finding him already staring back with the kindest smile. Ojiro also blushed, gaze quickly shifting away as he cleared his throat. "H-How about we knock out that reading assignment?" he suggested sheepishly, shifting away from you to grab his bag.

"I forgot about that..." you muttered, doing the same. "Man, I don't wanna read a whole act in one night! Mic's officially lost the plot." He was relieved to hear you begin to rant about the unfair amount of homework you'd been given.

"It's not gonna be so bad, we already read act one in class, we just have to read act two now." He said, shaking his head at your theatrics. "We can take turns."

"Or we can just look up what happens online," you smirked mischievously. He gave you a stern look, and you relented. "Oh, fine!"

"You can't cheat your way through everything," he sighed, cracking open the paperback. "I'll be Romeo and you can be Juliet, 'kay?"

You nodded, cheeks dusted pink as you did the same.

-----

Ojiro read the both of you in, playing the part of not only Romeo, but Mecrucio and Benvolio as well, voice dipping and raising to distinguish between each role. Finally, scene one concluded, and it was time to being the second, which you had been dreading the entire time.

"He jests at scars that never felt a wound." He said, dramatically placing his hand over his heart before motioning to you as your character enters. "But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou her maid art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, oh, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!"

"Ay, me!" You read, a bashfully glow in your cheeks at his words, however rehersed they had been.

"She speaks: Oh, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being over my head as is a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds and sails upon the bosom of the air."

You bit your cheek, cringing at your next line, feeling it tacky to speak aloud. "Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet."

This time, Ojiro found himself a tad flustered as you begged him to promise himself to you by whatever means necessary. Swallowing, he shook away the thought, realizing how ridiculous it was to put stock into a quote not meant for him specifically. "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" He asked himself rhetorically before his eyes shifted up to you, indicating that it was your turn.

Taking a deep breath, seeing how long the next paragraph was oyu braced yourself. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is not hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself."

'A rose by any other name..." He repeated to himself, unable to keep his tail from swishing happily. maybe if a rose by any other name would still sell as sweet, he could still be worth your time despite being who he was. "I take thee at thy word." He replied, more to you than as a reading from a script. "Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth I never will be Romeo."

"What man art thou that thus bescreened in night so stumblest on my counsel?" You asked, nose in your book, trying to make out understanding from the thick Old English writing, oblivious to how he had begun to take your words to heart.

"By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee; had I it written, I would tear the word." Ojiro recited eyes occasionally flickering up to yours for the off chance you might meet him halfway. Still, you remained focused in the writings of the ancient writer, blissfully unaware. He should have been happy to see oyu so engrossed, given your proclivity for taking the easy route but he began to feel almost ignored to an extent. Like he meant the words and you didn't.

"My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: art thou not Romeo and a Montague?" You ponder, the gears in your mind turning as you consider the words and their meanings.

"Neither, fair saint," He answered, almost curtly. "If either thee dislike."

Ojiro's short tone caught your attention, prompting you to glance up in surprise, beginning the line without reading the words. "How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?" Not remembering the rest, your eyes flicker down to your textbook before trekking back up to his. "The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here."

"With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; for stony limits cannot hold love out, and what love can do that dares love attempt; therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me." He replied, brows furrowed slightly into the look he always had when giving something this whole attention, voice dripping with conviction.

"If they do see thee, they will murder thee." You said, eyeing him cautiously, confused as to what had him frustrated. "Ojiro, is everything okay?" you finally asked, breaking character.

"Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He recited, still obviously on edge, simply nodding to your question.

"I would not for the world they saw thee here." You respond, a bit taken back by his lack of reaction to your concerns.

"I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;" His eyes suddenly softened and his stare fell away from yours and settled in his book on the blank space between the words and his lap. "And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Suddenly your heart dropped at the melancholy in his gaze. He didn't...mean what he was saying, did he? Of course not, you decided. That'd be silly. "By whose direction found'st thou out this place?"

"By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; he lent me counsel and I lent him eyes." He said quietly, almost timidly, his tail wrapping around your bedpost, as if to anchor himself to it. "I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far as that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise."

Something about the line made butterflies soar in your stomach, even though you knew they weren't for you. Maybe it was the nervous but steadfast look in his eye or the way his Adam's Apple bobbed with an unsure swallow. Whatever the cause, you couldn't unstick yourself from the notion of him searching the furthest reaches of the Earth to find your affection. Darting your tongue out, you wet you lips with a shaky breath, scanning over the gushy paragraph ahead.

"Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek for that which thou hast heard me speak to-night fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny what I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'-" You read, eyes glued to the written page as you coninued.

"Aye," he blurted, interrupting, making your blood run cold. Your gaze scrambled about the page, mind trying to get ahead of your heart before jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was somehow on the wrong page, that had to be it!

"O-Ojiro..." You breathed shakily, trembling hands flipping back and forth between this page and the next. "I-It wasn't your turn yet." You gently informed him, settling back on the right page. "A-And that isn't your next line..."

He looked as if he were about to explain, lips parted before he grunted, shaking his head with a fake, sheepish grin. "S-Sorry, must've lost track...continue."

You eyed him cautiously, swallowing hard, still reeling from what you thought could have been a confession. "And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries then say, Jove laughs. Oh gentle Romeo, if thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, so thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, and therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, but that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, my true love's passion: therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discovered."

"Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-" He muttered softly, unable to keep eye contact with you, onyx eyes simply flickering back and forth between yours and the bed sheets.

"Oh, swear not by the moon," You interrupt, delivering the line with a bit more feeling than you'd intended. You sheepishly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you continued. "The inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

Your change in demeanor seemed to have captured his attention, to your relief, as he glanced back up at you. "W-What shall I swear by?" He asked, swallowing a hard lump of nerves, eyeing you shyly.

"Do not swear at all..." you answer earnestly, leaning closer almost to an unnoticeable degree, but he caught it. You couldn't have possibly made a move he didn't see with how he stared at you. "Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee."

Ojiro could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as you lamented to him, leaning in when you thought he wouldn't realize. He scanned the page, frantically trying to keep up with the plot. "If my heart's dear love-"

You interrupted him again, inching closer, lost in the moment. "Well, do not swear," you beg, eyes shifting up to him as soon as you'd memorized the next few words before dipping back down. "Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet." The words dramatically rip from your throat almost as if a warning- one that foretold that if this didn't stop immediately, if he didn't leave, things wouldn't ever be the same between you. "Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast!"

"Oh, wilt thou," he paused, shifting nervously, obviously not heeding your warning. "Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?"

"Not you, never," you confessed at long last, gazing at him longingly as the red that dusted his cheeks crawled up to the tips of his ears.

"(Y/N)..." he gulp, eyes never leaving yours, save for once to memorize what your next line should have been. "Y-Your line is-"

"What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?" you finish for him, leaning in infinitely closer, so much so, he can begin to faintly feel your breath fan his face, and your legs have shifted so you're sitting on your knees instead of cross-legged.

"(Y-Y/N)..." he shuttered, lips instinctually parting as his trembling hands found your forearms, thumbs caressing your skin gently. His tail wagged excitedly behind him, despite his attempts to steady it.

"Say the line, Ojiro." You dismiss, lashes batting at him.

"The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine..." He managed to choke out shakily.

"I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again." You confess, still shifting closer, lips ghosting over his as your eyes flutter shut, knowing your last line is already done. "Read it, Ojiro," You command again, relishing in the anxiety on his face as he tore his gaze from yours and read the words aloud as your hands cupped his cheeks.

"Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?" He asked honestly, bottom lip quivering as your top one brushed against it.

"Never for any reason," you let go of a captive breath, finally crashing your lips to his in an inexperienced but needy kiss. His hands which once weightlessly sat on your forearms now gripped your wrists, anchoring them to his face, almost as if letting go would convince you to take your touch away.

You settled further into his lap, in an almost identical position to earlier, only this time the meaning behind the embrace was clear to both of you instead of just the outside world. Kneading his lips against yours, his fingers slid down your wrists and traced your jaw until they felt your throat, cradling your head, absentmindedly toying with the hair that rested near your ear. "I've waited forever for this..." he admitted in between kissed. "Woulda waited a million years just to kiss you if I had to."

"If you'd asked, you wouldn't have had to wait a day," You replied, pulling away and peppering kisses across his face. " I would have kissed you as a hello if I'd know I could..."

"I'm glad we waited," he confessed, sighing blissfully as you showered him in affection, pulling you infinitely closer by your waist. "Time makes the heart grow fonder, or however the saying goes."

You giggled at his dopey grin, pecking his nose, arms snaked around his neck, toying with his hair. "Absence." You correct, shaking your head at his mistake. "The phrase is 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'."

"Time I didn't get to spend in your arms might as well have been absence." He mused, leaning up, nudging his nose against yours before ghosting his lips over your own. "Let's make up for lost time, yeah?"

#mha x reader #mha #ojiro x reader #mashirao ojiro #ojiro fluff #ojiro mashirao #mashirao ojiro fluff

62 notes · View notes

99zurins · 2 years ago

Text

summary: wonwoo knows a lot, especially how your thoughts get into your head. when he knows you had a bad week, he wants to shower you with the gentle love you always give him when his thoughts get into his head.

note: god its been ages since i posted but alas!! this was a request for a friend of mine, and it helped me get out of my writing slump. enjoy <3

pair: f!reader x jeon wonwoo

tags: soft bf!wonwoo, SMUT (minors dni), communication during sex, kink exploration, spit, slight choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, multiple positions (sorta), safe sex, oral (both m. and f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), orgasm denial, edging, pet names (wonwoo calls reader baby, sweetheart, good girl, princess), soft dom!wonwoo, reader goes into subspace, wonwoo takes care of reader, reader works at a clinic

word count: 6.9k

[ wonu : babe

wonu: how are you feeling? ]

like shit, you want to text him. i’m not ok. so much, too much, is happening all at once your brain doesn’t know what to process first. it’s been like this from monday morning: you were short-staffed because three co-workers got sick, people kept complaining about the wait times, what could you do, you just work here. tuesday to thursday was absolute hell: how does someone mess up inventory TWICE? your co-worker doesn’t know shit. how did she get hired anyway! you don’t want to even think about friday’s disaster. you called in sick today, because fuck the clinic, and made sure you swapped your closing shift at the bookstore with someone else. your head is in chaos, all while managing a terrible migraine.

from the tylenol, the long naps, to the drops of essential oil on your pillow– none of it isn’t even helping.

you haven’t spoken to your boyfriend for a few days, there’s the i love yous, occasional memes or cat pics he sends, but it’s been quiet. he’s been busy too, he got hired by a better design company, meaning better schedules and much well-deserved salary, and has been finishing up his last few shifts on his secondary job at a milk tea shop. but since he’s one of the long time workers at the shop, he’s been busy training newbies to replace him, hence why he’s been awake earlier than you, and comes home so late. you know he’s home when he quietly slips into bed after a shower, snuggling you from behind, holding your small frame. but you miss the cuddles when you play games together, the shared silence with him, looking at dumb cat videos. everything about him, really, you miss. even though you live with him now.

[wonu: are you at your bookstore job tonight?]

you first tell a truth: you called in sick for both of your jobs. then, you lie, saying your friend-slash-coworker is coming over to talk about stuff.

[wonu: don’t lie to me

wonu: babe

wonu: i know you had a bad week]

it was just busy, you respond. you’re busy, baby. you’re probably tired too. we can talk about this later.

[wonu: i’m not ever tired when it comes to you

wonu: i’m gonna leave work right now

wonu: idc]

you feel tears well up. you not replying back is all he needs to know.

wonwoo shows up in twenty minutes, holding a bag of takeout, bubbletea, and a cute stuffed animal. you wondered how on earth did he get here so fast, considering it takes him about thirty-five minutes to get to back home, but you’re too tired to say anything. all he does is give you a hug, plant a soft kiss on your head, and you try really hard not to cry. he does the thing where he scratches softly under your chin, like how he usually would greet a cat, while your head leans into his chest.

“hi baby,” wonwoo finally speaks, giving you a soft smile. it fades when his cold fingertips linger around your cheekbones, and stops below your dark circles. “long week?”

“mm.” you try to pretend everything is okay. he knows you aren’t. he places more gentle kisses between your eyes and on the bridge of your nose.

“was hoping you would tell me, actually.” wonwoo quietly locks the front door, takes off his shoes, and you quickly scramble to find him some house sandals that would fit him. “baby, it’s okay, I don’t need slippers. none of them fit me, remember?”

wonwoo doesn’t wear the house slippers because the five house pairs are all yours. you insist on getting him a pair, he always refuses. you cough out a laugh, and you hear wonwoo giggle.

“right, i forgot, sorry,” you mumble. “what food did you get?”

“i got you your favourite,” pho from the restaurant where you had your first date with him in. it’s his favourite, too, “i got us a matcha cake slice and a strawberry one to share, too.” cakes from the cafe on the third date.

you nod quietly, and you watch him leave the takeout on the table. he pulls out a container (which is most likely the cakes), and grabs the two plastic forks.

“wonwoo, i’m not…” hungry, you trail off, you weren’t in the mood to eat, but wonwoo looks over at you, with such tenderness. his black turtleneck hugs his torso nicely, square glasses makes him look like a nerd, when did he get a haircut? and he looks over at you, attentive and with endearment. sometimes you wonder how you deserved him. “i’m…”

wonwoo finishes putting the takeout on the table, and approaches you with quiet steps. he cocks his head to the side, a motion to tell you come here, love, and you take a few steps closer, fiddling with the sleeves of the navy oversized sweatshirt (which belongs to wonwoo).

“how can i be here for you, baby?” he pulls you closer, rubbing small circles on your scalp with his thumb. you don’t really respond, but all you do is plant your face straight to his chest, wrapping your arms around his frame. you feel a low chuckle erupt from his chest. “baby, i’m not sure how my chest is… supportive enough.”

“well, they’re bigger than mine! it’s comfy!” you whine quietly, and wonwoo laughs at your answer. he embraces you, slightly moving side to side.

“i do want an answer, if you’re able to tell me.”

“um,” you hum, looking up to him, while he still scratches your head. “i kind of just want to cuddle… tell me about your new hires, or show me dumb videos of mingyu and seungkwan being stupid again, i really don’t wanna think about what this shitty week has done to me.”

“okay, we can do that.” he hums, and scoops you up, holding you like a sack of rice.

“why are you holding me like this.”

“i wanna open the door.”

“i…” you suddenly remember the bowl of pho sitting on the table. “wait, wonwoo, the pho–”

“we have a microwave.”

“i can walk to put it away first!”

“i wanna spoil you, princess. you deserve something good. no need to think about anything.”

you feel your brain go sideways.

“… okay.” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, ignoring the heat flushing in your cheeks, and the faded pink tint in wonwoo’s ears.

wonwoo puts you on the bed, and wraps you in a blanket burrito after a little cute protest and some kisses, telling you to wait while he quickly freshens up. you feel like you’re gonna fall off the bed, why did your boyfriend put you by the edge of the bed? idiot. after showering, he changes to a comfortable black muscle tee (gifted by soonyoung) and gray sweatpants. when he returns to the bedroom, he turns on the lampshade before shutting off the main light in the bedroom. he goes back by the bed, and unrolls you out from the blanket burrito, giggling as you find yourself rolling towards the middle of the bed.

“wonwoo, what the fuck,” you find it so silly, you’re trying to contain your laughter but it’s not working. you feel wonwoo climb up on the bed, and wonwoo seems like he’s having fun removing (more like unrolling) you out of the blanket. wonwoo starts pressing a few of your pressure points gently, making you giggle even more. “what are you, FUCK, that tickles, STOP THAT!”

“noooo,” wonwoo sounds like a child, and pushes off the final part of the blanket off your body. you’re laughing loudly on the bed, as wonwoo carefully pulls you up but you feel limp from laughing. he helps you sit up in front of him, and you think he’s finished with his confusing act, but he grabs the blanket, wraps you both in it, proceeds to embrace you close, and accidentally manhandles you, him hitting the bed while you’re on top of him. “oh, this wasn’t what i planned to do.”

“what?” you ask him. “manhandle me?”

“yeah, i got too excited, i’m sorry, baby.”

“well, if it makes you feel better,” you trace shapes on his cheekbones with your finger. “i liked it. had no thought in my head, just vibes.”

“mm,” wonwoo just hums, lightly patting your butt. a hand rests behind his own head, inadvertently flexing, and you mindlessly trace the healed floral ink that wraps around his bicep. “one of the new hires likes fruits basket, it reminded me of you.”

“WHAAAAAT?” you look at him with excitement gleaming in your eyes. you slap his chest lightly. “tell me more, tell me more!”

“well, she has a tattoo of kyo’s bracelet and named her pet hamster after yuki.” wonwoo says, playing with your hair. wonwoo started watching the series for you, although he hasn’t finished yet. “although she likes kuroo?”

“oh! kureno.”

“is he a bad person?” he likes to know what’s he in for at times, so some spoilers are okay.

“he falls in love with a minor.”

“oh.”

“yeah, it’s gross,” you sigh as you feel wonwoo massage your scalp. “oh that’s nice, by the way, did your manager allow you to take the cat apron?”

“i can’t. jihoon sucks.”

“boooo! he sucks.”

“my baby can always embroider me one, right?”

“i crochet, not embroider!”

“same idea!”

“no its not!” you pinch his nose. his nose scrunches up, and he tries to playfully bite your fingers. you pinch him even harder, and you giggle over his over exaggerated expression of pain. “i should really finish making that cat hat for you.”

“take your time, baby,” he kisses the tip of your fingers. “don’t stress on it. oh, speaking of which, jihoon sent me footage of seungkwan and mingyu tripping during close yesterday. i don’t know why you find it amusing to see them struggle.”

“because they’re so funny together,” you laugh, as wonwoo uses a free hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. he opens it and scrolls, looking for the video. you turn your head, listening to his steady heartbeat. the scent of his lavender bodywash is faint. it lingers. “besides, mingyu complains about his antics with seungkwan to me at the clinic sometimes.”

“ah, not surprised.”

wonwoo opens the video, and since it is security footage, it’s muted. the quality is grainy. it’s a bit blurry. as wonwoo lightly taps a tune on the small of your back, you watch with curious eyes. seungkwan is mopping, while mingyu is seen refilling the containers with straws and wooden utensils. it doesn’t look much, but you see seungkwan tell mingyu something, but his footing is awkward, causing him to slip on the wet floor. seungkwan doesn’t fall on the ground, and mingyu is laughing at him, throwing his head back in amusement. mingyu suddenly slips backwards, falling on his side, and a bunch of straws fall on the floor. seungkwan looks like he’s gonna cry so much from laughing too hard. someone else (it looks like vernon) appears from the corner and stares at mingyu, whose still on the floor. he leaves. you and wonwoo snort loudly, you shutting your eyes hard because it’s too funny. he locks his phone and puts it back on the nightstand, stroking your head while you continue to laugh.

“god, they’re so stupid,” you shake your head. “how does jihoon deal with them?”

“he tries not to.” wonwoo halfly jokes, scrunching up his nose. you snicker. “at least they get the job done, and jihoon will be less stressed.”

“hopefully the new hires don’t fuck up.”

“i made sure they won’t.” wonwoo says, looking at you with endearment. you can’t help but move up, and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, even taking a hold of your face as you pepper him with soft kisses. “you’re being more adorable today.”

“well, i feel like i miss you a lot more lately,” you lightly push his glasses up. “even though i see you everyday, i don’t know, it’s different this time.”

“how so?”

you still don’t want to think about the disaster the week has been. but you want your heart to be open. steady.

“sometimes, i forget i’m not alone,” you tell him. his attentive gaze never leaves your face. “and that i don’t have to… i don’t have to burden everything all at once. and i’m sorry if i feel like i’m not relying on you.”

“baby,” wonwoo cups your face and squishes your cheeks. you inadvertently let out a laugh. “don’t be sorry. please don’t ever be.”

“i know, but i…”

“you’re very important to me.” he strokes your cheekbone. “i am always here. i’m sorry if i appeared… distant lately. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s okay, woo. i’m just overthinking.”

“it’s not…” he whispers, face softening. “you had a bad week, and me being busy isn’t an excuse to make sure my baby is okay. like i said, you’re very important to me, and the love you give me makes me so happy. i love you so much.”

“i love you so much too, wonwoo… how did i deserve you?” you feel your heart swell, and the urge to cry comes. “sometimes i wonder about that.”

“you deserve everything. and i’ll make sure i can give everything to you.”

“then…” you trail off, going quiet for a moment. wonwoo watches you, and you raise yourself up, adjusting yourself to almost straddle his lap. “can you…”

“hm?”

“can you take care of me?” you whisper, tugging the hem of his shirt. you swallow the embarrassment down, reminding yourself that it’s okay. “please?”

it seems like a desperation from you, but wonwoo knows you best. you know that he’ll always and will take care of you with utmost tenderness and gentle love. but sometimes, just barely, or just too often, you question yourself how (and why) you deserve him. you already thought the shared kiss under the stars a few years ago was something he’d forget easily. but the nerd he is, he’ll plant constellations upon constellations of kisses across your body, (as if you’re the universe herself), and ask you to guess which constellation it is. on your anniversary, he’ll always kiss the libra constellation on you because that’s the one you both saw under that fated starry night. (although, he loves kissing the pisces constellation on your body. a lot).

wonwoo gazes upon you, eyes brimming with gentleness, and he carefully sits up, motioning you to move closer to him. his hands rest on your hips, his right thumb stroking your hip. your arms reach out to him, as they wrap slowly around his neck.

“how would like me to take care of you?” he whispers so low, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours, his right hand going up to play with your sweatshirt, sending a chill down your spine.

“however you want.”

wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck, while his left hand slips under your shorts, lightly caressing the back of your thigh. his tongue teases the roof of your mouth, causing you to let out a small whine, as his left hand takes a hold of your ass, occasionally squishing it.

“do you want me to continue?” wonwoo breathlessly says in between wet kisses. while he fiddles with the hem of your sweatshirt, you nod in response. “words, baby.”

“yes, please.”

“what do you want?”

you and wonwoo are no stranger to sex, but compared to your friends, you and him are considerably on the more… calmer side of things. and thats okay, it’s normal! everyone is different. tonight, however, feels different. even with his constant reassurance, little kisses of i’m here for you, and delicate whispers, you want wonwoo to…

“if you could help me not overthink, that’ll be great,” you feel yourself flush red, looking down at the end of his shirt, fiddling with it. “if you, uh, know what i mean.”

“oh.” wonwoo sighs when your fingers slip under his shirt and ghost over his chest. he’s figured what you meant. “are you sure?”

“as long as you fuck me, make me feel good,” you mumble, feeling yourself grind against him, kissing him wetly. “i could care less how you do it.”

wonwoo hisses at the pressure, and stares at you, a glint of lust and admiration starting to shine through, all while playing with the band of your shorts. he brings up a hand near your face, and pulls you in for another kiss, tongue toying with yours, and when you whine, he sucks the tip of your tongue.

“remember our safe word, baby?”

“kohyangi,” you breathe out, thinking about the cute cat cafe you both went to last year, while wonwoo kisses red blooms on your neck.

“how far do you want me to…”

“how we usually are, but i wanna see you try,” you stop wonwoo from kissing your neck, and you bring him to your face, letting him kiss you more. “you can be a little rougher tonight.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” he gently flips you over, carefully laying you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours until he briefly parts to remove his glasses. putting them on the nightstand clumsily, he comes back for your lips, and you melt against him. through his relentless teasing and his tender touches against you make your head spin. he kisses a little harder, a little more desperate, hands starting to roam around your frame, arms caging you– an underlying message that he isn’t going anywhere, and that he belongs to you, you are his, and that you are deserving of everything. a curious hand slips under your shirt, feeling your bare chest. his other hand toys with the band of your shorts, mumbling if it’s okay to take them off, and he swiftly removes them when you give him a ‘yes’.

“oh, this is pretty,” wonwoo compliments your underwear. it’s a baby blue thong. he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. “they new?”

“um, uh, yes? they were on sale… good deal, too…” you suddenly feel yourself shrink, turning red. you stare at his toned muscles, and you see a satisfied smirk on wonwoo’s face, eyes turning lustful. he pushes the sweatshirt high enough for your chest to be exposed to the air, never breaking eye contact until he swoops down, and starts planting kisses, tongue teasing your nipple, and occasionally biting at some places. “i bought a bunch since… kinda wanted to try wearing these… for you.”

you see wonwoo’s ears turn pink, and feel yourself crawling into a hole.

“aw, cute, my princess wants to treat me.” your brain screams. wonwoo kisses over the healed ink near your hip.“they look great on you, makes your tattoo here even sexier.”

“are.. are you doing the andromeda constellation?” you breathe out, trying to divert his (horny) attention somewhere else. “or is it something else?”

“mmhmm, correct, that’s my good girl,” wonwoo teases and you feel yourself choke on your own spit. he starts toying with the band of your underwear, and bites a mark on the hip bone. you didn’t even realize he’s already settled in between your legs until you feel him breathe. he tongues over the bite mark, soothing it. damn, ain’t this one nice way to go out. “you’re learning so well.”

“shit,” you shyly say between your teeth.

“keep the sweatshirt on, i wanna fuck you in it.”

“good, that was the intention.” you try to counter wonwoo, and you feel yourself twitch when wonwoo presses his thumb over your clothed clit. “does it make you possessive?”

“baby, you have no idea.” he responds, hooking a finger in the band of your thong.“may i?”

you nod at him, and he slowly peels off your underwear. as you slightly raise your hips so he can easily pull them off, he’s awkward with it, making you remove it instead. wonwoo clicks his tongue in slight annoyance. all you do is just smile at him, slipping them off with ease. you sit up (just a bit) to toss them somewhere on the bed or floor, and you don’t realize wonwoo is incredibly close to your pussy until you adjust your positioning. your breath hitches when he breathes.

“hm?” he starts to tease, kissing around the area and the lower stomach, but doesn’t do anything. “you’re pretty down here.”

“babe, please,” you try to sound exasperated but he plants the softest kiss on your clit and you almost collapse your arms. “just nervous, that’s all, even though we’ve done this a lot…”

“it’s okay, baby, i don’t blame you, i get nervous too,”wonwoo murmurs, and he can’t help it but he finds himself licking his lips. “may i eat you out?”

“yes, please.”

he first lightly swipes his tongue from the entrance to the clit, and he does it again, and again, and again, as you let out a soft noise the more he does it. he kisses your clit, and licks it, tongue flicking it a few times, doing a circular motion, and you sigh out a moan, hand resting on the crown of his head. he briefly pauses to use his thumbs to spread you out a little more, and opens his mouth, letting drool drip down on your pussy, watching it drip down, and he goes back in with his tongue. he increases the pressure, and you whine, almost hitting your head against the headboard. he keeps up the pace, moaning against your folds whenever you do, tongue slipping inside you occasionally. he starts to get even more sloppy, messy– making wet noises the more he eats you out.

“my princess is being so so good, so wet,” he mumbles lowly against your folds, hearing how wet he made you, briefly pulling away to kiss your inner thighs. you whine how his finger is teasing your hole, and his lips come back to suck on your clit again. “so needy, all for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine breathlessly, feeling wonwoo’s hand grip your thigh a little harder. he looks up, eyes never breaking away from yours, while his tongue slowly licks up from the entrance to your clit. he closes his eyes, relishing in the taste of you. you are sure your thigh is going to bruise, but his head is in between your legs, so it’ll be worth the bruising. “wonwoo, fuck, oh my god,”

“mm, fuck, so sweet,” he mumbles against your pussy. a finger slips inside you, slowly moving back and forth. the bed slightly shakes, and you see that he’s lightly grinding against the sheets, in desperation for some relief. you sigh at the sight, trying to stifle a moan as he puts more pressure with his tongue. “baby, go ahead, be louder.”

“its, fuck, embarrassing! holy shit,” you respond back a little louder, body arching when wonwoo adds another finger and grazes that sweet spot inside. you feel wonwoo pin down your hips with his other hand. “so, fuck, so, so good.”

“good,” wonwoo coos. “how bad do you wanna come?”

“so bad, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” your brain feels dizzy. “please wonwoo, please.”

wonwoo hums, continuing to suck your clit with wet noises and fingering you good. you find yourself mumbling incoherent sentences, and you find yourself feeling a wave of relief and pleasure overtake your body, trying to breathe. you clench around his fingers, hearing wonwoo coax you through your orgasm, leaving little kisses on you of you’re doing so well for me, and my baby, baby, all mine.

“can i spit in your mouth?” wonwoo removes his mouth from you, but his fingers have slowed their movement.

“yes.” you whine at the brief loss.

“open up.” he demands softly, a wet thumb pressing against your bottom lip. you oblige, and he leans in, letting drool drip down from his mouth into yours, his fingers busy with your hole, and uses his tongue to push it in your mouth. you shut your eyes, moaning while wonwoo’s tongue meets with yours.“good girl. was that okay?”

“y-yes,” you say in between wet kisses. another finger slips inside you, making it three, while you both make out, tasting yourself against his tongue. “it was good.”

“do you want me to do it again tonight?” wonwoo slightly rolls on his side, all while fingering you and peppering your neck with more kisses.

“it was really hot but,” you moan, trying to reach the band of his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is, and how much relief he desperately needs. “i don’t know if i wanna do it again. not again tonight, if that’s okay.”

“it’s always okay, baby, thank you,” wonwoo smiles against your neck, and you really wonder how you feel horny and soft all at once. he feels your fingers tease the band of his sweatpants, almost tracing the dent against it.“oh, baby, no need to worry about me.”

“but i want to make you feel good, too,” you say softly, breaths staggering while he fingers you long and slow. “don’t want—fuck— to be the only one.”

“well,” wonwoo gazes at you, eyes half-lidded with a slight fucked out look on his face. “does my girl want to make me feel good? words, baby, i need to hear them.”

“i want to make you feel good, please.”

“how badly?”

“s-so bad,” you whine when wonwoo removes his fingers from you. rolling on top of him, you press your body against his, your fingers holding the band of his sweats. “i want to suck you off.”

“wanna show me how with my fingers?” he brings up his fingers covered in your wetness close to your lips. “how will my baby suck me off?”

“only if you let me jerk you off, too.”

“i’d love that, fuuck,” wonwoo groans when you pull down his sweats and your hand wraps over his hard dick. he’s so fucking hard. your thumb teases the tip, playing with the precum and letting your hand coat itself in it. wonwoo’s fingers slowly go in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around them. “baby, fuck, you’re such a slut.”

“y-you’re the bigger slut,” you shyly whisper against his fingers. you help wonwoo get out from his sweatpants, leaving him naked, and you start grinding your cunt against his bare thigh. he hisses, feeling how wet you are down there, and his free hand grabs a hold of your hip. “you made me like this.”

“you’re so wet, baby,” wonwoo sighs, pulling you in for a kiss, sighing when you jerk him off slowly. as you slightly pick up the pace, thumbing the slit, wonwoo’s hand reaches from behind to play with your hole. you quickly pull away to let a trail of spit go down his cock for some lubrication, and wonwoo throws his head back, groaning, when you jerk him off faster. “fuck, that’s my girl, go ahead, suck me off.”

“and you’re calling me the slut,” you mumble. you hear wonwoo laugh against your lips, until you feel his hand lightly slap your ass. you sigh at the pain, wonwoo rubbing the reddenning spot. “wow, kinky, are we?”

“you’re cute.”

“you like it.”

“you’re so– oh, fuck,” wonwoo feels his breathing stagger when you slide down, your tongue teasing the tip. you look up, trying hard to maintain eye contact, all while holding his thick cock with your hand (you forget how thick he is, you can barely wrap your hand around it completely) and giving it kittenish licks, before wrapping your lip around the tip. you make a few wet sucking noises, before spitting down on his cock for more lubrication. “fuck, baby, can you take all of me?”

“i haven’t even done anything yet,” you continue to trail your tongue along the veins and stroke him at the girth, and he moans— you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting to hear more of it. “wanna tell me what should i do?”

“d-do as you please.” he groans out your name, cursing under his breath, and strokes your head as you continue to suck him off. not only does he love it when he ensures you’re vocal about what you want, he loves it when you ask him what he wants. being communicative is something he prioritizes so much (in general, obviously). and during times like these, communication is so so sexy.

you look at him, eyes signaling am i doing good for you?, and wonwoo bites his lip, enthralled by the sight. he really, really, can’t wait to ravish you.

“oh, holy fuck,” his thoughts get slightly interrupted when he feels his cock almost hit the back of your throat. feelings mixed with surprise and arousal that overwhelm him, he bites his lip to avoid a moan slipping out, wrapping his own hand around the base and presses it, edging himself. “oh, fuck, baby, you don’t have to take everything in.”

“b-but,” you remove your mouth from him, a slick pop sound coming out, as a trail of spit and come stick on your mouth. you still use your hands to jerk him off, looking at him with glossed eyes. “i wanna make you feel good.”

“you already are, baby,” wonwoo hitches his breath when you put your mouth back on his cock, a finger trailing your jaw. “but i’m the one who was suppose to fuck you til you can’t think, right? do you still want that, sweetheart?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble. “i-i do.”

“come here, then,” wonwoo encourages you to come up, licking your mouth. he runs a tongue on the roof of your mouth, as you moan while his hand plays with your hole again. “i taste good, don’t i?”

“mmhmm,” you reply against his lips, and wonwoo easily slips two fingers inside you again. he sucks on your bottom lip, fingering you faster, and you find yourself instinctively riding his fingers, moans getting more desperate as his other hand takes a hold of your hip and helps you ride his fingers. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again, oh my god, your fingers are so good, woo.”

“that’s it, baby,” wonwoo says, adding in a third finger. you feel his thumb press again your clit. “come for me again, sweetheart.”

you ride out your second orgasm of the night. although it’s not as intense as the first, it feels more of like a softer wave holding you close. wonwoo kisses your neck and collarbones, whispering you praises and love notes as he helps you finish.

“please fuck me already,” you whine into the kiss, and wonwoo starts playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “wonwoo, please, i want you…”

“patience, baby,” wonwoo whisper in your ear, and you feel his hand go up and down your back. “i’ll take care of you as long as you like me to. can you go on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“can we kiss first?”

“of course, baby.”

you’ll never get sick of kissing wonwoo, ever. you find how you melt into each other’s warmth, comfort, and love— and how he feels like home, the hugs on rainy days, the shared smiles— you adore how his kisses are reminders of i’m always here and love letters, how much he loves you- all of you—

wonwoo shifts when you move onto the position, him moving his hand down your back. he asks if its okay if he can lift up your hips a little higher, and says good girl when you follow his instruction.

“can i…?” wonwoo asks, raising your hips up, so your ass is sticking up in the air. “can i fuck you holding one of your arms behind your back?”

“holy fuck,” you whisper, looking at him, a part of your face squished by the pillow. you and wonwoo aren’t that experimental, but this… is something. “if that will help you fuck me so hard til i can’t think, then okay.”

wonwoo slows his movements, and stares at you.

oh.

oh, fuck, that’s hot.

“well, if you say so,” he leans over, tilts your head to give you a kiss, before opening the drawer to grab a condom. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“at least fuck me first.” you joke, and wonwoo chuckles at that, pushing up your sweatshirt to expose your back. he kisses down your spine, and you hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. wonwoo adjusts your body, and you almost feel like a cramp coming on, but it’s okay—

“ready, baby?” wonwoo asks lowly. you nod against the pillow. “words, sweetheart. may i have your hand?”

“mm, yeah, i’m ready, are you?” you put your hand around your back, and you feel wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“yeah, i’m putting it in,” wonwoo says, and you feel the tip prod against your entrance, and you bite back a moan before he slowly inserts himself in. you squeeze your eyes shut, gasping against the pillow, remembering to take deep breaths. you need a moment to adjust, but the stretch alone feels wonderful. “you okay?”

“y-yes,” you exhale. “fuck, i feel all of you, so, so much.”

“fuck, you’re so tight.” wonwoo groans, slowly bottoming out. “need a moment?”

“yeah.” you let yourself adjust to his cock, as wonwoo rubs your back (his way of helping you relax). a minute passes, and you start to feel good, inadvertently moving your hips back to his. wonwoo moans, and it encourages you to move faster against him. “f-fuck, oh my god, please fuck me, you’re so big—”

wonwoo finds himself moving his hips fast, a hand gripping your hip, the other pinning your wrist behind your back, as you gasp on how loud, wet, and hard he’s going. as hard and fast-paced his thrusts are, it remains concise and controlled. you hear him groan the more he thrusts into you, and you briefly look back at him, seeing him fling his head back in pleasure. god, it feels so good, the sounds of skin slapping grow louder, breathing out of sync, you feel so full, so fucking full, your head is starting to get dizzy—

your senses come back when wonwoo slows his pace, and you whine, tightening around him as a means to get him to move.

“nuh-uh, don’t come just yet,” wonwoo tuts, shallowly thrusting in you. “i’m not done with you.”

“w-what, fuck! oh my god, please go harder,” you tell him, feeling drool come out from your mouth, and wonwoo lets go of your hand, gently placing it above your head.

“so, so, impatient,” wonwoo slaps your ass, watching you fuck yourself on him. he continues to let you fuck yourself on him, his frame swooping down so he can whisper. “so needy for my cock, hm? didn’t know my baby is such a needy, little slut. look at you fucking yourself on me. i haven’t even fucked you stupid yet, and look at you being so needy for me. my baby is such a cute little whore.”

“wonwoo, please move,” you breathe, looking at him with glossy eyes. wonwoo continues to stare at you with lust and endearment, all while shallowly fucking into you. “i want you so much, ahhhh fuck, please, please.”

“hm? what was that?” wonwoo coos, and you whine even more. you feel like crying. wonwoo rubs his hands down your side. “oh, baby, it’s okay, i’ll give you want you want. wanna tell me what you want?”

“y-you, please.”

“just me?”

“want you to fuck me til i can’t think.”

“that’s it?”

“wanna be y-your cute little whore for you.”

and that’s all it takes for wonwoo to remove himself out from you. you wince at the loss of him, as you feel tears in your eyes, but he steadily grabs you, flipping you on your back. he pumps himself, spitting on his fingers and they go down to your pussy, playing with your clit with his thumb and wraps your legs around his waist.

“keep your legs wrapped for me, okay?” he says, using his long fingers to play with you. “can you do that for me?”

“yes,” you nod, and wonwoo peppers soft kisses around your neck and face. “wonwoo?”

“mm, baby?”

“can you spit in my mouth again?”

“oh, fuck, yes,” it catches wonwoo off guard and you find it cute how flustered he got. “i can, yeah.”

“good,” you nudge his back with your leg, telling him to start moving.

“ready?”

“mmhm- ah, fuck!” you nod, but wonwoo slips inside easily, holding onto your hips hard, fucking you at a hard, controlled pace. “oh my god, fuuuck, fuck!”

wonwoo smiles, watching your expressions change accordingly. he takes in all of your noises, expressions, all of you, how you ask to go faster, how you’re trying to fuck back too, how you’re willing to make it good for both of you. wonwoo takes a hold of your hand, putting it above your head. he gets caught off guard when you put your other hand up, and wraps his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

“fuck, baby, you’re so tight, your pretty pussy loves taking me in, hm?” wonwoo whispers, and his free hand creeps up on your neck, but doesn’t add pressure on it. “open up.”

you oblige, and you feel him twitch. you tighten in instinct, as he lets spit drip down from his mouth to yours, and sticks his tongue in your mouth to push it in again. you moan at that, eyes going shut, all while wonwoo fucks harder and harder and harder. you feel nothing running in your brain, it feels numbing, feels exhilarating, you just feel yourself get lost into the pleasure and the praise wonwoo kisses on your skin. you numbingly hear him say words and words of i love you, can’t believe you are all mine, fuck you’re too good for me, come for me, your senses get blurred out, like your feeling everything all at once, and you don’t know when but you feel yourself unravel, coming undone as wonwoo finishes too, hips stuttering.

“baby…” wonwoo sighs against your lips, hands cautiously rubbing your sides, while putting his body weight against yours. “come back to me.”

“mmrgh?” you make a weird noise, feeling warm and a little light-headed. you hear wonwoo telling you to take deep breaths, and you use your hands to hold onto his shoulders. kisses and kisses and kisses of you did so well scatter across your skin like a cluster of stars, as wonwoo strokes your head with a comforting touch. “wonwoo?”

“m’ here baby, i’m right here,” he says, carefully slipping out from inside you after he softens. “i’m here, are you here?”

“yeah, sorry,” you finally collect yourself together, staring at the ceiling. wonwoo shifts on the bed, rolling over next to you to discard the condom, and plops next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist. you look over at him, lost in his bright eyes, and fucked out glow. “you did it.”

“wha?”

“you fucked me stupid, i don’t remember thinking at all.” you laugh. wonwoo’s face turns more pink, and he grumbles into your neck, kissing a spot or two.

“was that all okay?” he asks, stroking your head with one hand, playing with your hands with the other. “we did a little experimenting tonight.”

“it was good, yes, thank you,” you tell him, stroking his cheek fondly. “kinda wanna do more of it, you know.”

“oh.”

“oh my god, don’t act like a shy boy when you fucked me with your big dick.”

“i’m…” wonwoo get even more shy, and you laugh, kissing his nose and his cheeks. “just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.”

“is it a lot for you?”

“no, i’m glad you trust me, and that i’m able to trust you.” wonwoo says, rubbing your stomach. “we should clean up.”

“eh, i kinda wanna lay here.” you say, sort of sprawling out on the bed. you stretch your arm a little weird so it ends up across wonwoo’s body. “too tired.”

“baby, you work in healthcare. didn’t they teach you to pee after sex?”

“i work in an eye clinic!”

“well yeah! same idea! it’s still healthcare! i’m getting you to clean up.” wonwoo says, slipping out of bed and grab his sweatpants. he slips it on, and goes over to your side, but you start rolling away, not wanting to get out of bed. “baby, don’t do that.”

“i want to cuddle first,” you say, not bothering to fight back when wonwoo grabs your body to carry you to the bathroom. “i feel like jelly.”

“good, that’s what i intended,” wonwoo kisses your face when you wrap your arms around his neck. “we can cuddle after. what do you want for breakfast?”

“eggs. toast, if we have bread. do we have bread?” wonwoo shrugs . “uh, coffee? oh! and maybe fried rice.”

“you work tomorrow?” he asks. you shake your head. “good, we’ll sleep in, eat breakfast, you wanna go play stardew valley together?”

you grin, giving him a kiss.

god, you love him so fucking much.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen smut #svthub #svt x reader #zu writes #svt #seventeen fic #GOD IM BACKSJDJDJ

651 notes · View notes

unreliablesnake · 1 year ago

Text

Sharing is caring – part 2 (Phillip Graves x reader x John MacTavish)

Summary: Soap doesn't want to cause drama so he doesn't give in to his needs. But then your try to persuade him through your boyfriend.

Note: part 1 / These two have some weird relationship, right? / If you wanna know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

“Mind if I take this one?” You looked up from your book and glanced over at the empty lounger next to you. Once a smile showed up on your glossy pink lips, you nodded, and Soap couldn’t help but gulp. “Thanks.”

He took a seat next to you, then put his glass on the small table between you and took off his shirt. It was easy to tell you were watching him like a hawk through your sunglasses, and behind the casual facade, he was already losing his mind.

You were right there, offered on a silver plate by your husband, or boyfriend, or whatever the hell he was to you, and he was feeling like a stupid teenager again, terrified of the possible consequences of making a move on you. What if both he and Graves read more into your friendly behavior?

“He told you, didn’t he?” you asked him with the same damn smile. At first he played dumb, pulling down his own sunglasses enough to give you a questioning look. “So he did. That’s okay. It’s better if you know what you got yourself into by coming here.”

Soap pushed the sunglasses back to their place and leaned back on the lounger. “Even if he told me, I wouldn’t want anything from you. You’re taken, and I don’t want drama,” he told you.

Fuck, no, that was a lie. He wanted every piece of you, he wanted to see what you were offering. Hell, he needed to know, otherwise he would surely go crazy around you during those four days he was planning to spend here. But despite Graves himself giving him the green light, he still didn’t feel like it was right.

You let out a long sigh before standing up and sitting on the edge of his chair, your fingers absentmindedly tracing his abs as you began to talk. “There would be no drama. We both spend time with others sometimes and it has never been a problem as long as emotions aren’t involved.”

“How do you make sure no emotions will be involved in the end?” he wondered out loud.

“I love Phillip. I would never leave him for someone else,” you answered, sounding completely sure about it.

But Soap wasn’t convinced. “And if it just happens?”

“Are you afraid I would fall for you?”

“Well, I mean, I know about the effect I have on some women,” he replied with a smug smirk. You let out a carefree laugh upon hearing his words, then picked up your glass to take a sip from your drink. “But jokes aside, you’re really not afraid of this happening?”

“No,” you replied casually.

This made Soap think about the offer. He found you attractive, he wished he could have some fun with you, but he was a guest here, Graves was his friend, so it would have been weird to have sex with you with him in the house. It was a tough case, although he didn’t really see how this could work out.

Eventually he closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but you. It only worked for five minutes, because then he felt you sit down on the edge of his seat and clear your throat. “What is it?” he asked.

“Talk to Phillip. If he tells you the same thing, would you reconsider your answer?”

Soap let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

This drew a smile on your lips. “Good. Go.” He blinked a few times and asked you if you meant right now. “Yes, now. Please,” you added as you leaned closer until your lips touched his.

You were hesitant or you were just waiting for him to make a move. Either way, Soap could feel his cock twitch in his boxers, and he so desperately wanted to kiss you, but something told him he shouldn’t do it. So he put a hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you away.

“I’m sorry,” he said before getting off the chair and going back into the house.

Inside Graves was sitting on the couch with his laptop in his lap, but when he noticed Soap approach him, he closed the lid and put it on the coffee table. “Why do I have a feeling you turned her down?” he asked, earning a grunt from the sergeant who sat down on the other couch. “Man, I’ll have to handle her cranky self now,” he noted with a sigh.

The Scotsman looked over at the Shadow with a questioning look, wondering why he said that. Was he trying to guilt trip him into sleeping with you? This relationship was fucked up if that was the case, and a part of him was already considering leaving for a moment.

“Look, she’s used to getting what or who she wants, if you turn her down, she’s gonna be upset. Why did you do it anyway? I’ve seen men trying to impress her, they can get truly desperate, even when she’s clearly not interested in them,” he explained. “But she likes you, it’s clear as day.”

“You’re dating and it seems to be serious,” Soap began once he checked to see if his host was wearing a wedding ring. “I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“You wouldn’t,” Graves assured him with a laugh. “In fact, I’m seeing someone tonight to give you some time alone.”

“And she’s not worried about that?”

“How many times do you want me to tell you? This is an open relationship. It might not work for others, but it sure works for us.”

Soap gulped, gathering the confidence to ask about the details. “Can I ask you something?” When the other man nodded, he went, “How often do you guys sleep with others?”

Graves thought for a moment, as if it was a complicated matter. He knew there were highs and lows in the relationship that affected the answer, but it was hard to figure out how often it happened since they didn’t really keep track. “It depends. Sometimes about once a month, but other times our relationship is so good we don’t even think about seeing others for months,” he said in the end.

“How long have you been together?”

“For about five or six years, I think.”

The sergeant let out a thoughtful hum. “Haven’t you considered marrying her? She could be your trophy wife,” he suggested with a cheeky grin.

But the other man just rolled his eyes. “She’s more than that. Much more,” he corrected himself before stopping for a moment to look out at you. “But I’m not sure she wants marriage.”

“Have you asked her?”

“No. Why?”

“Maybe you should.”

“Nah, I’ll wait for her to tell me when she’s ready.”

Soap stretched his legs and arms as he leaned back. “And that’s how you’ll end up living as boyfriend and girlfriend for the rest of your lives. That’s the problem with people, they don't talk to each other anymore,” he said, sounding like an old man to the commander.

With a huff, Graves picked up his glass from the table and raised it to see how much he had left from his whiskey. He didn’t want to admit that his friend was right. The idea of marriage had appeared in his thoughts several times over the past years, mostly when he updated his will and his lawyer asked him about you.

But you were enjoying this lifestyle, you weren’t the type to drop hints about marriage left and right. You always said you were happy you could be this open with each other. When you decided to move in with him, it only happened because living apart was becoming inconvenient with all those heated nights you wanted to spend together between his missions.

“I’m bored.” Graves felt your arms sneak around his neck from behind as you spoke, leaning close to his ear. “Your friend is really mean,” you complained quietly so only he would hear.

He turned his head to the side to give you a quick kiss. “Or you just pounced on him two seconds after he arrived and he’s still in shock,” he informed you with a smile. “Give him time, baby.”

With a sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Don’t leave tonight,” you asked him before placing a soft kiss on his shirt.

“I can’t cancel last minute,” he told you, his voice still calm and steady despite the need to pull you over the couch and spank you for being a brat.

From your groan he could tell you were rolling your eyes at him. “I canceled two months ago because you asked me to,” you pointed out.

“Fair enough,” was all he said in the end.

“Maybe we could try something new tonight,” you began as your lips traveled up to that sensitive spot behind his ear. “Why don’t you ask him if he would like to join us? Maybe he would say yes sooner if he knew you were one hundred percent on board with this.”

“And if I’m not on board?”

You let out a low chuckle. “Next time it’s your turn to bring someone to play with us. Please?” you asked sweetly, your hand moving from his chest towards his jeans.

But Graves was quick to catch your hand and pulled it up to his lips. How could he say no to you when you were all sweet and seductive? You always got what you wanted, he knew it was probably partially his fault, so why would it be any different now?

He glanced over at Soap who was looking anywhere but in their direction. “Hey, John, she has an idea. Why don’t you join us? In bed, not at dinner. Well, there too, obviously,” he said with a smile.

Soap gulped loudly at the thought, his brain short circuiting from this information. His gaze moved from Graves to you, and he saw that pleading look on your face that he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore. So that’s how you wanted to play? Fine. Let’s see who chickens out first.

#john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap #soap x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #mw2

147 notes · View notes

mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 7 months ago

Text

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 4

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The team try to piece together everything together and Steve needs answers.

Chapter Warning: Sad Steve, sad Bucky, talk of death mental illness, electric shock treatment, and attempted sexual violence (not in detail).

The ringing of an incoming call, allowed Nat a moment’s reprieve.

“It’s Clint, I made him aware. Thought he should be part of this. He is part of our family after all.” Tony spoke, looking at Steve for permission to connect the call. Steve nodded and Tony answered tapping his phone to share the projection of Clint and Laura, the latter holding baby Nathaniel.

“Please tell me this is some weird prank.” Clint went first.

“You think we’d joke about something like this?” Steve snapped.

“No, of course not.” Laura replied, elbowing Clint, “but I think I speak for both of us when I say, what the fuck you guys.”

A little voice in the background shouted ‘language’ but didn’t get the usual laughter.

“Romanoff I don’t want to have to ask you again. Start talking.”

“I met her when she worked for British Intelligence. Clint introduced us.”

“So you knew her first?” Sam asked, directly his question at Clint on the screen.

“I did. She was an analyst initially, one of the best, if not the best. Still is.”

“So, she’s British?” Asked Rhodey.

“She is.” Answered Nat.

“Was she then?” Rhodey asked Steve and he nodded his reply.

“Man, what type of dumb question is that? You can’t change nationalities.” Sam asked.

“Actually Samuel, you can, not your birth place of course but when residing….”

“Vis not now.” Wanda said.

Pepper decided at this moment to take a handle of things as she watched Steve’s annoyance grow.

“Why don’t we go one at a time? Clint, so you met her first?”

“Yeah, initially just over comms, as part of the partnership between the different agencies but it was clear early on how good she was. The last mission Laura did, we, well we found out on the mission that Laura was pregnant. We were chasing some arms dealer in Greece that had decided to start manufacturing chemicals to control people. Masses of people. We ran into some trouble. The extraction team were too far out and we were in pretty deep. I thought ‘this is it’, I’d taken my soulmate and my unborn child into a death trap, and then the sprinklers came on, and some 90s boy band starts coming out the speakers of the warehouse. It gave us a hint of time, just seconds to get the upper hand. We stole one of the ingredients so they couldn’t manufacture it and ran. A mile down the road there’s a pay phone ringing. It’s her. Telling us the S.H.I.E.L.D analysts were ‘shockingly shit’ and she’d dialled in and taken over. She directed us to a drain, told us the route to take. When we came up at the exit point, the SAS was there to extract us.”

“Holy shit. I don’t think I know anyone who can just call up the SAS like that, not even their own, not even us.” Sam added.

“She can, she’s got them wrapped around her finger I swear.” Clint said.

“Well, that’ll be guilt.” Nat muttered.

“What did you say?” Sam asked.

“She said something about guilt.” Bucky said, suddenly speaking up.

“Nat it’s not your place to tell them.” Clint stated firmly.

“Tell us what Romanoff?” Pushed Steve.

Pepper decided to refocus the conversation again.

“Laura, have you met her?”

“I have. She’s godmother to our children. Same as Natasha. She’s our soul sister.”

Steve huffed and leaned back in his chair.

“Nat?” Pushed Pepper.

“I met her over comms the same as they did to start with, Clint introduced us over a video call and then Fury sent me to recruit her.”

“For the Avengers?” Asked Steve.

“Not right away. S.H.I.E.L.D, then the Avengers. First as an analyst, then an agent.”

“I’m taking her lack of presence means she politely declined?” Quipped Tony.

“Not exactly.” Looking around at everyone’s confused faces Nat continued “it wasn’t exactly polite, she told me to fuck off.”

There was a rumble of light laughter.

“Hang on, hang on, she knew who you were?” Rhodey asked trying not to laugh, “she knew you were Natasha Romanoff, former assassin, Black Widow, and the British analyst, she told you to fuck off?”

“Yes Rhodey, she told me to fuck off.”

More amusement passed through the group. Then Laura’s voice.

“Tell them exactly what she said.”

Nat sighed.

“Fine. She said ‘I already told Fury and Barton no, and now I’m going to tell you Romanoff, no, a big fat fucking no, now get your Russian, double agent ass off my desk and fuck right off.’ She also had me escorted out of the building and had 001 revoke my access given to me under the partnership.”

"I like her already."

"Hush Tony."

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. It definitely sounded like their girl but it also didn’t explain their soulmate being there now.

Bucky was next to speak. His voice still sounding a little broken.

“Was she, erm, like us? Is she like us? Was she frozen?”

“Buck we know she wasn’t, Peggy identified her.” he replied, tapping the file.

“What is this? May I look at this?” Asked Tony.

Steve nodded.

“Do you remember the liaison meetings around the time of the First Accords? A member of each agency was there?” The team nodded. “Well after Peggy’s estate was settled, one the British guys pushed that into my hand and left. It’s all about her, her background info, her career and what happened after us.”

“What happened?” Vision asked.

“Oh god.” Peppers voice interrupted. “Sorry I just.”

She pointed down and Steve could see she was reading the medical papers from when their soulmate was sectioned.

“She was institutionalised. Although the British call it sectioned. She was really insistent that we were both still alive. Kicked up quite a fuss. They had her sedated and shipped back home and put in a mental hospital.”

“They shouldn’t have done that Steve, they should have sent her to Ma like it said in our papers.” Bucky snapped tearfully.

“I know Buck. That’s why Peggy did what she did.”

“What did Agent Carter do exactly?” Asked Vision.

“She tried to get a guardianship.” Tony answered looking at the papers. “Wait, Dad’s name is here.”

“They both did. Your Dad and Peggy, but it was too late. She’d passed before.”

“Because of what they did to her?” Pepper asked.

“What do you mean? What they did to her?” Asked Bruce, finally breaking his silence. Tony glanced up at Steve.

“Can he see this?”

Steve clenched his jaw.

“It might help, that’s all, give us an idea of if she could have survived that.”

“She didn’t but fine.” Steve said through gritted teeth.

The file was passed down to Bruce, whose brow furrowed the moment he opened it.

“Jesus Christ.”

The room stayed silent as Bruce read through the file.

“I’m sorry Steve, Bucky, electric shock treatment of that amount, along with what they gave her, and the Broken Heart Syndrome. It’s unlikely she could have survived that.”

“She didn’t. The next piece of paper is signed by Peggy and Howard. Peggy identified her and registered her death. Howard paid for her funeral.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony asked, disappointed in his tone.

“I was going to and then everything else happened. I was going to tell you and ask if you’d help me find the grave.”

“But there isn’t one right? I looked, there was nothing and that’s because she’s alive?” Asked Sam. Steve shook his head.

“May I add something Captain Rogers?” Asked Vision “I believe it may help the others understanding.”

Steve frowned but nodded.

“When Agents and Analyst, anyone above a a certain category joins an intelligence agency they under go testing and that now includes DNA and genetics, along with regular retesting. It would have raised concerns had she have been the age of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes and her identity would have been revealed or at least have led her to S.H.I.E.L.D for investigation not recruitment.”

Tony and Bruce both nodded in agreement.

“Captain Rogers what was the purpose of light implications that Peggy was your soulmate?”

Steve went to speak but was interrupted by Bucky.

“I hated that by the way and so did she.”

“I know Buck but we had to keep her safe.” Steve paused for a moment before continuing, “I found her right before I went looking for Buck. Peggy said we needed two things, a plane and route in. Howard got the plane and our soulmate was the map girl. I felt it the moment I saw her. My luck never was the best and then I find her and it’s in a war zone, I’m about to go on a suicide mission to find my best friend. Our eyes met and I was falling over my feet like the little kid in Brooklyn.”

“He actually did fall over his own damn feet. Our girl had to help him up off the floor.”

The team laughed softly.

“It’s true, that gave your Dad and Peg some laughs.” He said to Tony.

“Tell them the rest.” Bucky smirked.

“I kissed her, practically threw myself at her and kissed her. She was not amused, she was pretty pissed.”

“What was it she said ‘you yanks are all the bloody same’.”

Steve smiled, “Something like that, she pushed me off, told me off and shoved a pair of maps into my hands. Buck met her when he came back to base.”

“I didn’t throw myself at her, as hard as it was not to, and at least brought her a drink first.”

Steve smiled again as Bucky shared his memory before starting again.

“It’s not documented anywhere but when we were out on a mission there was an attack back at the base, a small group of energy agents had snuck in on a delivery truck. One of them went into what we called the War Room, trying to see the plans. Well, that’s what Phillips' first thought. Our girl was in there with another agent who was shot and killed. She got into a scuffle with the enemy agent and disarmed him but he didn’t stop and he tried to hurt her, in the worst way possible. Buck had slipped a pocket knife into her stocking before we left and she used it. Peggy burst in and finished the job. When they searched his body, there was a photo, albeit a bad one but a photo and a description of her. They hadn’t just come to see our plans, they’d come for her.”

“That’s why everything was deleted?” Nat stated, “Why I couldn't find anything, pictures, film, newsreels, all of it?”

Steve nodded. “Peggy pointed out she was safer with us than back home, we had no idea who knew about her. Every single one of those agents had a damn picture of her.”

“Peg made some calls, she knew someone at the BBC, Pathe News, some had lost soulmates in the war, so they clipped every image of her out.” Bucky added.

“So the photograph in your compass? Of Agent Carter? It was a diversion tactic?” Asked Vision.

Steve nodded, smile now gone. Sam still confused asked questions.

“OK, I need to piece this together out loud for a second and you know I’ve got your backs right? But for the non science bros, or super intelligent creations, no offence”

Replies of “non taken” echoed round the room.

“You said Peggy identified her, after she’d passed, Howard paid for the funeral, so they hid her really damn well for seventy years or this ain’t your girl. Like Vis said someone would have flagged her age.”

“It’s her!” Bucky snapped.

“Buck.”

“I’m trying to be the voice of reason here, make sense of it all. Are you sure that’s her?” Sam asked pointing at the pictures Buck still held. “You said yourself, she was deleted from everything, you don’t have a point of reference, a photo. You’ve been through some shit, you’ve been froze. Also, there's no point of reference for any of us either, with everything gone, we've all tried to look. I'm just saying you’ve been through a lot. Maybe the memory is blurred.”

It was at this point Bucky lost it.

“I remember everything!” He cried out “I remember her, I remember my Ma, my sisters, everything, all the god damn awful fucking things I’ve done, that they made me do. Shuri pieced it altogether and the good things, the good memories, her, the memory of her is what gets me through, when I can’t do it, when I can barely breathe.”

“Buck take a breath.”

“Just show them Steve, they’re looking at me like I’m damn crazy, about to ship me back to Wakanda! Show them.”

Steve rose from his seat and pulled out his compass. A compass that had been seen on newsreels, in newspapers and in history books. He slowly opened it and carefully removed the picture of Peggy. Hidden behind the S.H.I.E.L.D founder was their soulmate.

Faded and a little rough round the ages but the others could now see it clearly for themselves as Steve set the compass down displaying the photograph. Bucky reluctantly placed those from Wanda beside it.

It was the same person. You. Soul sister to the Bartons, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner and most recently, Wanda Maximoff, were in both pictures.

And you were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes soulmate and you were alive.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

#steve rogers x reader #avengers au #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #steve x reader x bucky #soulmate au #avengers soulmate au #steve rogers x reader x bucky

96 notes · View notes