#abilities! you can’t waste them! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidrum · 5 months ago

Text

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid headcanon #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

lizzobetumblin · 8 months ago

Text

Melissa hated her feelings.

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings.

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name,

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list:

1.) Don’t cry.

2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking,

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion.

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry.

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow.

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong.

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that.

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again.

She carried that.

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her.

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’

She cried.

She escalated.

She took it personal.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music.

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose.

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too.

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow.

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks.

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified.

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power.

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her.

And she finally loved them back.

2K notes · View notes

nadvs · 8 months ago

Text

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

2K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 28 days ago

Note

Ooh ok, so here are some ideas for vampire!James in case you feel inspired to write any of them! Maybe something where he comes home after going out to feed thinking reader is asleep and he's feeling guilty and reader comforts and reassures him? Or another idea is just reader finding out that James is a vampire now, or maybe just her being there for him through the turning process. Sorry if none of these tickle your fancy!

Thank you for requesting lovely!!

cw: mention of blood, nausea

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

James walks through your door with heavy steps. He’s glad that he can do it—the first time he tried to come home after turning, you’d both wondered at how his feet wouldn’t cross the threshold until you figured it out and invited him in. It had been embarrassing. Now, James all but stumbles into the kitchen, hopefully not leaving any drippings of blood in his wake.

He always feels drunk and sluggish after a feeding. Nauseous, too, though he’s not sure if that’s from the bilious too-full feeling or simply his own disgust with himself and what he’s done. Sirius theorizes that if James fed more often instead of waiting until he’s wasting away every time, he might not feel the effects so keenly, but James doesn’t like to talk about it. He still can’t find it in himself to talk about his condition the way his friends do, like it’s normal.

The water coming out of the tap could be cold or boiling, James wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. All he can think about is getting it all over him, cleansing himself. He’d imagine it as washing away his sins, if such a thing were possible for creatures like him. Still, he wants to be clean to slip into bed beside you. You deserve at least that.

It’s probably his distraction that keeps him from hearing you come down the hall. (James is not a very good vampire, he thinks. Shoddy predatory instincts.) But when you touch his shoulder, coming up beside him, he doesn’t startle.

“Sweetheart.” James has the urge to cover his mouth from your view. These days he’s pretty good at feeding neatly, but tonight had been messier. There’s blood down to his chin. “What are you doing up?”

You give him a little smile, opening a drawer next to the sink for a cloth. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“No, you couldn’t. I’m a creature of the night now, remember?”

Oddly, this has been one of the most difficult parts of the transition for James. There’s the whole living-off-blood thing, of course, and the new ability to hear a fly in the neighbor’s kitchen, but James was always an early-to-rise, early-to-bed sort of bloke. His old schedule was dictated by the sun. Now, all his instincts are in opposition to it.

He stays still as you adjust the temperature of the tap, wetting the cloth and then lifting it to James’ face. You smell like toothpaste, and underneath that the garlicky pasta you had for dinner. (James isn’t actually deterred by garlic, though he can’t eat it just like he can’t eat any regular foods anymore. Maybe that’s where the folklore came from. Only something truly cursed would stop eating garlic.) He can feel the veins pulsing in your wrist like a substitute for the heartbeat he no longer has, but he’s full enough now not to worry about craving you.

Of course, he craves you in various ways, all of the time. Just not in that specific way at the moment.

“You should be in bed,” James murmurs. He touches his thumb to the shadow underneath your left eye. “I can clean myself up.”

“I wish you’d just use the bathroom,” you reply just as softly, dragging the cloth over the line of his jaw. “But anyway, I don’t mind helping.”

You don’t mind much of anything, James has found. You don’t mind watching your boyfriend turn into a vampire, don’t mind letting him feed on you, don’t mind cleaning an animal’s blood off his chin at two in the morning. You’ve adjusted to James’ new lifestyle better than he has. He’s beginning to think there’s nothing about him you won’t accept. You’re a sweetheart to your core, your center soft and sticky sweet like a cinnamon roll’s. (James should know, he’d practically tasted it himself.)

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he says.

You wave a hand. “You didn’t. I was up, I just came when I heard the tap come on.”

So you’d been waiting up for him. James’ heart at once warms with fondness and heavies with guilt.

You give him a searching look. “Does it still make you feel sick, after?”

“Yeah,” James admits.

Your lips pull down. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, lovely.”

“Mm, try and stop me,” you counter teasingly. “Do you think you could handle a sprite?”

James isn’t sure. Solid foods only ever make him sick, but drinks have been hit-or-miss.

“I could try,” he says, mostly for you.

“Only if you want to.” You set the cloth down on the edge of the sink, kissing him softly on the lips. James doesn’t know how you can do it. To open your mouth to one that’s just done something horrid, and to do it so simply.

“I love you,” you murmur.

James’ unbeating heart gives a powerful squeeze. “I love you, too.”

You press a kiss just below his lips, and another to his chin. If you’re trying to prove a point, it’s working.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if we go to bed?” you ask softly.

“Mm, definitely. Like the dead.”

A startled giggle spurts out of you. You smile up at him, your eyes sparkling in the dark. James thinks that maybe he could get used to the whole vampire thing, so long as he can keep you looking at him like this.

488 notes · View notes

evilgwrl · 3 months ago

Text

Captain Price x Reader

One Job

Summary: You’re his assistant and he needs help with something a bit more… physical

CW (MDNI): Fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), unprotected PIV, creampie, some degradation, praise :)))), Price is a bit mean to you oops, spitting, ROUGH sex, age gap (legal ofc), hints of manipulation(?), sir kink???, dom price, sub reader

Word Count: 3,304

Masterlist

Working for the Military was a difficult job. Sure, you weren’t doing any physical labor but my God, the demands some of these men had pushed you to the absolute limit, the fluttering of a migraine swarming you like bees the moment you stepped foot on base.

It wasn’t their fault, they spent most of their time training, or fighting, or off hunting down a terrorist so if you could help them out by completing some of their much needed paperwork, you were happy to oblige. I mean, who could say no to dear Johnny’s face?

For the most part, your work was thorough, always completing it to the best of your ability and you were very proud of that. However, sometimes you happen to accidentally neglect the man you’re actually here for.

Captain Price.

While you were technically only his assistant, it was so difficult to turn down the other men. Their gruelling faces and scarred hands always felt like a knife twisting in you as you quickly grabbed their paperwork, ushering that this was going to be the last time you would help them out (it wasn’t).

So now, you find yourself here, sitting nervously in the leather chair across from the Captain’s desk, irritated scowl on his face as he inhaled his cigar, a thick puff of smoke exhibiting across the room before he placed it on the ash tray.

He rubbed his hands across his exhausted face as he sighed, “Sweetheart, I told you I needed that paperwork done by today and sent off to Laswell. I knew it was going to be a lot to handle so I purposely gave it to you early and have left you alone since.”

His tone was harsh and disappointed. You felt like a child being scolded for accidentally breaking something important.

“Sir, I-“

“You think I don’t know that you spend your time helping out my other men? I mean Christ, I understand you want to feel important around here but how will anyone take you seriously if you can’t even do the work for the one person you’re supposed to do it for,” his words were cruel, degrading you as you stooped lower into the chair, a pit forming in your belly as you avoided his angry eyes.

“Sir, I understand that I made a mistak-“

“Mistake?” He spat, voice growing gradually louder, “This isn’t a mistake, y/n, you neglected the work you were supposed to be doing all because you wanted to impress a few men in the military!”

You looked up at him, his words stinging you. You weren’t trying to impress them, you were only trying to help. “Captain Price, I understand your anger but you don’t need to result to shaming me,” your voice was heavy, the undertones of embarrassment evident as you diverted your tear-streaked eyes.

He let out a deep sigh, taking in your skulking frame. “This work is important, y/n, if you can’t handle it, I think it’s best if you either transfer or resign.”

Transfer? Resign? You had worked your ass off for over a year. Dealing with his shit, Soap’s shit, Ghost’s shit, Gaz’s shit! You make one mistake and suddenly you’re incompetent?

“I’ve been slaving away for you for over a year now. I understand that work is important and I can guarantee you that I can get it done by today, the latest by tomorrow, so instead of sitting here and lecturing me, when you know damn well how capable I am is a waste of both our times!”

You didn’t mean to yell, he knew that by the quickly changed expression once you had stopped. “Are you done?” He asked, voice gentle.

You nodded, embarrassed, as he handed you the paperwork, your nimbly fingers gripping onto them as you quickly left his office, kitten heels clicking against the floor as you scrambled to your own space.

By the time you were done, the sun had well set and almost everyone had gone home. You were praying that included Price. You turned off your little lamp, clutching your shoulder bag as you neatly stacked the paperwork in your arms, putting off the walk to his office.

Your walk sounded throughout the hallway, evident anxiety on your face as you stood outside the door, the large CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE sign glaring back at you. You sounded a small knock, praying no one answered but you found yourself letting out a small groan once you heard a deep, ‘come in’.

You opened the door nervously, palms clammy as you looked at him, nearly empty glass of scotch on his desk and his tired eyes glaring back at you.

“Sir, I finished it,” you said, placing the paperwork on his desk, “I’m sorry that it’s slightly overdue. It won’t happen again.”

He let out a breath, gentle smile on his face as he gestured you to sit down. You awkwardly obliged, fighting the ability to follow his order, but also to excuse yourself.

“Listen sweetheart, I’m sorry about what I said. You’re a very capable young woman, you’ve helped me, us, all. I just don’t want you to take on things that you don’t want to. The boys are very grown men, they kill for a living, doing a tiny bit of paperwork won’t dent their fingers.”

“I understand that, Sir.. I just.. want to help, I guess. It feels nice knowing people, important people, come to me for help… and even if it’s just because they don’t want to it themselves, it makes me feel good knowing they trust me to do it.”

“Like I said, you’re very capable. Just don’t want my men stealing my best girl I suppose.”

His words took you off guard, heat rising in your face as you looked down, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. “I try my best for you Sir,” you reply, still avoiding eye contact.

“Didn’t mean those things earlier, you know that?”

You nodded, still looking down as he cleared his throat. “Come ‘ere,” he said, voice gruff as he tapped on his desk.

You looked at him in surprise, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you hesitatingly got up, walking over to his side before plonking your ass down gently, almost like you were testing the waters.

“I’m sure you could handle anything I gave you, hm?” His tone was sickly, a teasing arrogance lacing his every word as you felt his hand graze your stocking-covered thigh, pencil skirt riding up at your seated position.

You nodded, mouth suddenly going dry, barely being able to think as you felt his every stroke against you.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Y-Yes sir, yes, I can handle whatever you give me.”

He smiled, looking pleased as he stroked further up your thigh before placing a gentle kiss right above your knee. Nerves bubbled in your belly. Of course you wanted this. It was Price. You mainly took the job because you enjoyed looking at him, his rugged frame, laced with muscle from the years of hard work, tall body towering you whenever you stood too close.

His eyes watched you twitch slightly as his movements, taking in how nervous you were, yet so, so obedient. “You wanna prove to me how capable you are, hm?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, your lips dry as your tongue darted out to lick them, cerulean blue darting down to watch the muscle lap at the fullness of them.

“On your knees,” he commanded as you immediately hopped off the table, dropping almost desperately to the floor as you perched between his thighs. His cargo pants were tight, almost straining against the visible hump near his crotch. Your mouth practically watered at how well he was filling them out.

Your hands gently reached up, stroking his covered bulge as you finally took in just how big he was. You weren’t a virgin, but if he was as big as you could feel, you just weren’t sure it would fit.

No, you could take it. You would show him you could take whatever he gives you.

His veined hands reached up to tug down the zipper, standing briefly as they dropped to his feet, now standing in his boxers. His cock was thick, practically tearing through the thin fabric as your eyes focused on the dark, wet patch prominent next to the head.

You watched carefully as he tugged them down too, thick, angry cock bulging out as you took in the sheer size of it. Jesus fucking Christ.

He took in the nerves in your eyes, hand reaching down to stroke your cheek as your eyes ogled the ginormous girth in-front of you. “Still think you can handle it?” His tone was cheeky, almost mocking as his thumb graced over your lips.

You didn’t reply, only reaching forward to balance yourself on his thighs, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as you kitten licked the tip. You could taste his salty precum, a string of saliva connected your mouth to his member before he hissed, your lips wrapping around the tip as you sucked gently, your eyes looking up at his face.

You pulled back and spat, a thick glob of saliva landing on his throbbing head as you curled your wrists around, lubricating it before taking him back into your mouth. You steadied your movements, building a strong pace as your head bobbled, taking him down your throat slightly as you gagged, your other hand working the remainder of what wouldn’t fit.

A hand wrapped around the base of your hair as he guided your movements, his hips bucking slightly as he groaned.

“That’s it baby, take my dick. Doing such a good job.”

His praise only edged you on, your mouth taking more of him as you spluttered, tears welling in your eyes as you watched his face contort with pleasure through wet lashes.

Your other hand nestled at his balls, thick hair lightly covering it as he practically growled at the sensation. You could feel his pubic hair against your nose as you swallowed around his cock, spit stringing down your chin making you look almost pornographic.

His grunts and moans egged you on as you continued to bob up and down his legs before he was pulling you off of him, his cock throbbing angrily, tip flushed a deep red as you gasped for air.

“I’ll cum down your throat another time, pretty, okay? Right now I gotta feel how tight your cunt is around me.”

You yelped in response, hands grabbing to lift you back up onto the table as he stood up, digits grabbing out to undo the buttons of your blouse before he growled, frustrated taking over him as he ripped it, the sound of buttons flinging across the room as you gasped.

“My shirt-“ you squealed as you felt his hands dive towards your chest, pulling your bra down to pool at your stomach before his hungry mouth was on his chest, licking and sucking and biting at whatever he would as you moaned. You held the back of his neck, rubbing gently as he took a nipple into his mouth, tugging on it gently with his mouth before pulling away to do the same to the other.

He looked up at you, gaze almost starving as he smashed his mouth against yours, your tongues fighting rapidly against each other as you tasted the residue of his alcohol, longing for more. You felt his hands grope at your waist, tugging down your skirt as you quickly stood up, lips still connected as you pulled it off, along with your stockings and panties. You kicked off your heels as he laid you against the table before pulling away from your lips.

You brought your knees up, spreading your legs slightly as he growled at your exposure, two fingers reaching down to dive into your dripping slit, gathering your slick in between before pulling them apart, the evident string making him let out a dry laugh.

“All that for me, love?” He groaned, fingers rubbing at your pulsing clit as he took in your wetness.

“Y-yes sir,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed at how much of a hold he had over you, over your cunt.

“Dirty girl, hm? All desperate for your Captain?”

You whined at the degrading words whilst you nodded, “Just you, Sir.”

He seemed pleased with your answer, his touch almost possessive as you felt two fingers at your entrance before they graced the tight hole, sliding inside with ease as a mortifying squelch filled the room.

His fingers reached places that you didn’t even notice existed as you whined, hips bucking before he lifted your thighs over his shoulder before bending down to lick a fat stripe up your wet heat. You gasped at the sensation, hand jolting down to rest on his scalp as he began to lick and suck at your sweetness, practically growling into it as he lapped at whatever he could.

You felt like you were in heaven. His beard scratched along the plush on your thighs as he worked his two digits against your sweet spot, his lips and tongue sucking at your folds and swollen clit.

“Oh fuck, Sir, please I’m gonna cum,” you whined as he quickened his pace, a tight coil forming in your stomach as your breathing became heavy. You let out a pathetic whine as your head fell back, his spare hand holding your waist as he continued his fevered movements, the coil in your stomach snapping as you moaned his name followed by a string of expletives.

“Tastes so fucking sweet, so good for me,” he growled as he watched you twitch, overstimulated by his actions before he pulled away, reaching up to grapple you with another bruising kiss. You felt the wetness of his beard and it made you even hornier as he kissed you with such need.

His hands gripped your hips, the force most likely going to form subtle bruises as he dragged you closer to him. You broke away from the kiss, your forehead leaning against his as you looked down at this cock, wrapping a hand around it, thumb darting over the precum as he hissed before watching you drag it over your tongue, a pleased hum leaving your lips.

“Dirty fucking girl, so pathetic for her superior, huh?”

His words were like poison, you lived off of it. You had no idea how you would be able to work around him after this. He didn’t take well to the silence, a spank landing against your pussy as you gasped, body jolting slightly.

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” he commanded, his hand reaching up to grip your cheeks before he asked you to open, your mouth immediately obliging as he leaned down, a wad of his spit landing perfectly on your tongue as you swallowed. He hummed at it, his own hand reaching down to grab his cock, slapping it against your puffed clit a few times causing you to squirm at the delicious sensation.

“P-Please sir, I need you.” Your tone was desperate, soft tears filling your eyes as he rubbed the head of his cock up and down your wet folds.

He tsked. “Just a needy slut for me, hm?”

You nodded, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt his thick head prod at your entrance, your hand immediately pushed against his chest at the burning intrusion before he grabbed it.

“Relax for me, love, you can take it.”

You let out a shallow breath as he laced your fingers together, your pussy fluttering as he pushed it deeper and deeper. He was massive, the burn absolutely ramming through you as you waited for him to bottom out.

“That’s it baby, I’ve got you. Taking me so fucking well.” His words encouraged you as you wrapped a leg around his waist, welcoming him before you pressed your lips against his, dragging him towards you using your leg as an emphasis to hurry up.

He laughed against your lips as a hand wrapped around your jaw, pulling away to pepper kisses along your neck before he thrusted slightly, the entirety of him now inside you as you practically yelped at how full you felt.

“Tight fucking thing, gripping me like crazy,” he gruffed, spare hand reaching down to thumb at your clit before he pulled out most of the way before slamming back in.

You felt all the air leave your lungs as you moaned, your sounds high pitched as he began to slam his hips against yours, thumb circling your clit as you could feel him practically kiss your cervix.

“Holy fuck,” you choked out as you wrapped your arms around his neck, nestling your face into the crevice as you bit down lightly to conceal your pathetic sounds.

He was a grunting mess as he praised you, coaxing you to cum around his cock as you felt him practically in your throat.

You were babbling at this point, your words slurring at how much pleasure you were in as he continued to pound into you at a brutal pace, other hand roughly groping at your right breast, tugging the sensitive nipple as your eyes rolled back.

“Take that fucking dick,” he growled out at you as he continued his abuse against your clit, his other hand now reaching up to grab your neck as he pulled you away from hiding, leading you into another kiss as his hips mashed against yours.

You could barely kiss him back, the pleasure blinding you as your eyebrows scrunched together, delicious expression written on your face as it egged him on to fuck you harder.

“Holy - fuck,” you whined as you felt your second orgasm building up. The coil seemed never ending, his rough thrusts sending you into a spiral before you screamed out, pussy clenching desperately around his cock as it attempted to milk him, his hand jolting tighter around your neck as his rhythms got more sloppy, a loud grunt leaving his mouth.

“Gonna make me cum soon, sweet’art,” he grumbled against your lips as he continued his bruising pace, your pussy moulding to the shape of his cock.

“Inside me.. please, please, Sir,” you whined desperately and somehow, he began to fuck you even harder, almost like he wanted to cum quicker just to fill you up with it.

His hands reached down to your hips, pace deadly as slaps and grunts filled the room and you knew you would feel his grip for days. He let out a staggered breath, his thrusts getting sloppy before he let out a groan.

You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, hot spurts of cum emptying into your womb as you whimpered, his head falling into your neck as his seed pumped into you.

He kept his cock inside you for a little after he finished emptying everything he could give you, soft pants filling the room, your bodies practically merged into one as sweats clung to every fibre you had.

You fell flush against the table as he pulled out, his cum pooling at your entrance as it began to leak out, his possessive fingers rushing to push it back in as his fingers swirled against your slit before pinching lightly at your abused clit.

“You okay?” He asked, gaze softening as he took in your fucked out expression. Your throat was dry, a croak of an “I’m okay” slipping out as he laughed, rubbing a gentle hand against your waist.

“Proud of you,” he cooed, his softening cock still out as he grabbed some water for you in his miniature fridge which you took gratefully.

“Guess you proved you could take anything I give you.”

#evilgwrl #call of duty x reader #captain price smut #captain john price #141 x reader #john price #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty mw3 #cod modern warfare #price smut #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you

993 notes · View notes

euphemiaamillais · 10 months ago

Text

cry, kill, die - coriolanus snow

peacekeeper!coryo finds out you’re commander hoff’s daughter

based on this ask

cw: 18+//piv sex//fingering//spitting//mentions of guns

‘and what are you doing here?’ a rich voice rings out.

you snap your head around, coming face to face with one of the many peacekeepers who serve under your father. this one is more handsome than the others—icy blue eyes, and platinum blonde cropped hair. a smile quirks upon the corners of your lips.

‘is that any of your business?’ you inquire, knowing that you can test the patience of the peacekeepers, because who would dare to cross the commander’s daughter?

‘what, are you visiting your sweetheart, bunny?’ he teases, though there’s a rather stern look in his eyes.

you laugh in response, and attempt to continue on your way—you’ve got a meeting with your father, after all. however, you are stopped by a hand coming down to circle around your wrist. his grip is tight, and disgruntled, you turn back to face him.

‘come on, you don’t have to be so shy. there’s lots of girls like you here. little bunnies who like to spread their favours far and wide.’ he raises a brow suggestively. you can hardly believe he has the audacity.

you don’t know whether you should tell him who you are, or if you should just leave it. he’s not loosened his grip on you. you’re not sure how to answer it either.

‘are you accusing me of being a whore, private?’ you feign a shocked look. he laughs, running his hand up your arm. his touch is cold, like ice, and you shiver a little.

‘perhaps…’ a smirk plays at the corner of his lips. ‘maybe it’s the fact that you’re looking at me like that, just begging to be fucked.’

‘oh, really?’ you rebut—he’s so forward, like most of them are, but you’d never think they’d dare to actually touch you. not more than a few stray kisses at least.

‘now, are you going to be a good girl, and come back to my bunk?’ he says, a tone of dominance in his voice. his fingers are striking his rifle, which catches your eye.

‘perhaps…’ you purse your lips. you don’t know what would happen if your father found you getting too friendly with one of his men, and you didn’t exactly want to find out. but this one was so handsome… you liked how daring he was.

‘perhaps? come now, bunny. that’s not a very good answer, is it?’ he steps closer to you, his gun pressing against your bare thighs.

you shake your head, glancing up at him with wide eyes. he’s so tall, dwarfing you—it makes him all the more commanding. he moves to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

‘you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?’ his breath is hot against your ear, and you feel a flush creeping up your cheeks.

‘well, only if you can please me, private,’ you murmur, causing a flash of anger in his eyes. nobody dared to challenge his abilities in bed.

he would prove that to you, bend you over like the little whore you are, fuck you stupid until you couldn’t even cry out your own name. he did that often enough to the other bunnies that hopped around the barracks, hoping for a good time. he was very well practised now, not like the silly little schoolboy that he was back in the capitol with his golden curls and academy rouge.

‘if?’ he laughs, snaking one hand around to grab your ass. ‘not if, sweetheart. when.’

god, he was so full of himself.

deciding that he didn’t want to waste anymore time fooling around, he pulls you by the arm and began to lead you along the dirt track to the barracks. you glance around, watching as the uniformed peacekeepers march their way to large trucks or to training. it’s an all-too familiar site, ever since your father was stationed to 12. you’d have to be careful with this one, though. he was too handsome to be transferred to another district if you were caught.

the barracks are empty when you enter, and he doesn’t take his time with you, shoving you against the wall. he shoves one leg between your thighs, pinning you so you can’t run free. you feel your heart leap with excitement.

he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips—which you return eagerly. you slip your tongue inside his mouth, and move your hands to wrap around his neck. you’re desperate; you can’t help but ache for him, core wet and slick with want.

he moves his lips from your own, and trails hot kisses down your neck, sucking and nipping the delicate skin as he does so. you gasp out, clutching at the nape of his neck, urging him to bite harder. you’ll have to wear a scarf to hide these from your father.

‘so sweet, bunny,’ he mutters into your collarbones.

your hands roam to his ass, pulling him flush against you. you can feel his hard-on pressing against your thighs. you want him so bad, to take you and fuck you like the whore you are—cock filling out your tight cunt.

‘please,’ you whine, wanton and needy. ‘need you to fill me up.’

so direct, he thinks, a grin playing upon his lips. you look so pretty, pressed between his leg, hands grasping at his ass. what a fucking whore, begging him for it. he’s hardly even touched you and you’re already whining for him.

‘soon, bunny.’ he peppers a few kisses against your jaw, hands gripping at your hips.

you let out a mewl, fed up that he’s teasing you so much—he’s not even had the decency to stick his hand between your thighs. aggrieved, you grind down against his thigh, your soaked panties leaving a mark on his perfectly ironed uniform. that would be cause for some explaining to the laundress.

‘oh no,’ he puckers his lips. ‘don’t think you can get away with that… being so impatient.’

you scowl as he moves his thigh away, letting your legs fall to the ground. you stumble a little, trying to find your balance, but he’s quick to tug you along to one of the empty bunks. you wonder what your father would do, finding you in here with him—the peacekeeper who’s name you don’t even know—the thought of being caught makes it all the more thrilling.

he shoves you against the side of the bed, and rucks up your skirt to reveal your soaking panties. he laughs, looking at your pathetic face, trembling lips and wide, dumbfound eyes.

‘so fucking desperate,’ he remarks, kneeling and placing his hands against your thighs. ‘just another one of the little bunnies who likes to get fucked senseless.’

you shake your head, feeling his cold hands creep up your thighs. they latch around the waistband of your panties and tug them down.

‘god, look how wet you are,’ he scoffs, tossing the panties aside.

he slides one finger inside your cunt, and you let out a groan, hands clenching against the woollen sheets. a little daring, he slips another finger in, arching it as far as it can go. it feels so good, and he thrusts them in and out of your wet hole at a teasingly slow pace. goddamn him.

‘need you,’ you pant. ‘in me. please…’

you pout, hoping he’ll take pity on you. he slides his fingers out, gripping your thighs hard. more bruises. you’ll have a lot of explaining to do to your father.

‘does bunny want me to fill up her tight little cunt?’ he asks, fingers pinching at your skin.

‘yes please,’ you sigh, clutching at his shirt.

you attempt to pull him up, coax him to you. you wonder when he’ll figure it out… that he’s seen you before, standing beside your father in a pale pink dress, watching as the peacekeepers eye you. commander hoff’s daughter is supposed to be off limits. he’d shoot any of them on site if he caught them so much as ogle your pretty form making its way through the barracks.

he hangs over you now, elbows propping himself up as he grinds his crotch into the bed. your hands roam down to his waistband, and you stick your hand inside, palming his hard cock. he lets out a heavy groan, and you feel the precum coating his cock.

‘gonna fuck you so good,’ he grunts, hands going to unbutton his pants.

his cock is throbbing when you take it in your hand, guiding it to your entrance. he’s not the first you’ve been with—not that your father knows that—but he’s certainly the biggest. you sigh pleasantly as he slides himself in, not taking any time to ease into your cunt.

he begins to thrust, feeling your tight walls stretch around him, taking him all in. you reach one hand down to rub at your clit, which is aching with need. he slaps your hand away, seeing you touching yourself—it’s an insult to his abilities—and uses his thumb to rub soft circles on the sensitive nub.

‘harder,’ you plead, grabbing his ass and pushing him in; feeling the tip of his cock poking against your cervix.

‘what a dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?’ he coos, upping his pace. ‘begging me to fuck you like a little whore.’

you let out a groan as you feel him begin to pound you, each thrust increasing the pace. his fingers still rub deftly at your clit, which throbs with pleasure. you do have to admit; he is so good.

‘mhm…’ you sigh, head lolling back as he fucks you. ‘my father will kill you if he finds out.’

you decide to tell him—it’s too late for him to back out now, what, buried deep inside your cunt. he’s too struck by pleasure to think straight, at first, and so his answer is to merely laugh.

‘yeah? who’s he? don’t think he can tell a peacekeeper what to do,’ he grunts, cock pulsing with pleasure. god, you feel so good.

‘oh…’ a slight giggle escapes your lips, and you run your hand over his lower back. ‘you don’t know?’

he rears his head up, perplexed, brows furrowed. he’s still rutting into you, and you can see the shiny sweat beading on his forehead, his blue eyes glistening with confusion.

‘hm, bunny?’ he inquires.

‘well…’ an impish grin scampers across your lips. you trace circles in his skin. ‘you were wondering why i was here…’

he comes to a halt, causing you to frown. the expression on his face is one of pained loss of pleasure—having to cease his thrusts to clear his mind—and also slight fear, not that he’d never admit it. no, you couldn’t be. but he can see it, the eyes, the curve of your nose. you’re hoff’s daughter. of course. the one with the overly-friendly smile, who liked to wear her skirts too short as she waltzed past the peacekeepers.

‘oh bunny,’ he clucks his tongue in a scolding manner. ‘what would your father do if he knew you were begging for my cock like a little whore?’

your cheeks burn red, and he begins to thrust again. somehow, this has made him want you all the more. to have him see you being ruined by one of his own men—that would remind him that private snow was capitol. not just some pathetic district runt like the rest of the peacekeepers.

he pulls your legs up around his shoulders, adjusting the angle of his cock, and fucks into you like a common whore. you gasp at the feeling of his cock hitting the right spot—and you feel waves of pleasure coursing through your body, cunt throbbing and clenching around his big cock.

‘such a fucking slut, huh?’ he groans, feeling himself close to his peak. ‘taking peacekeeper cock while your daddy sits in his office just out there.’

you let out a moan, clutching at his shoulders while he pounds you. you look like a such a whore, tits bouncing, cunt so fucking wet for him. how fucking pathetic. who would’ve thought commander hoff’s daughter took cock so well?

‘mhm!’ you gasp, slickness gushing from your cunt. nobody’s ever made you finish just by using their cock.

‘so good,’ he grunts, thrusts growing haggard as he nears his end.

your body is humming with adrenaline, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through your veins. he moves one hand up to your cheek, coaxing your mouth open. you oblige, and as he gives a fucked-out thrust into your cunt, spits into you mouth.

‘swallow,’ he manages to murmur out as he spills into you.

your cunt is filled with hot, sticky spurts of cum as he finishes, and you obediently swallow his spit. it makes your cunt throb with excess desire, and you have to bite your lip to stop another moan from spilling out.

‘fuck… so good,’ he groans as he slips out of you, his hot load dripping down your thighs.

he tucks himself back into his trousers, and goes to sit down beside you. you’re splayed out, cunt exposed and dripping from his load. you look so pretty, completely fucked dumb, eyes wide with the excess of your want.

‘what’s your father going to say about this?’ he laughs, rubbing his hand against your aching cunt. your body tenses up from the overstimulation.

‘he’d probably have you shot,’ you muster out, propping yourself up on your elbows.

he laughs, a rich sound escaping his mouth. you reach to grab your panties, which are bundled up on the sheets, still wet. he reaches out and stops your hand with his own, taking the panties from you. you pout, and try to reach for them back.

‘oh, i don’t think so,’ he remarks cruelly, tucking them in his back pocket. ‘something to remember you by.’

he presses a kiss against your cheek—you can’t help but blush even though your heart pounds at the thought of having to walk back to your house with no underwear.

‘please…’ you plead, bottom lip trembling. ‘i can’t walk home like this… my skirt…’

he shakes his head and chuckles, looking at you like you’re his. you shove your skirt down, ashamed to be laying like this.

‘i don’t think whores get much of a say in things,’ he cajoles, eyes glistening a little manically.

he delights in the thought of you being humiliated, having to pretend like you didn’t just get your brains fucked out by a peacekeeper. he wonders what would happen if the wind decided to blow the wrong way…

‘i’ll tell my father about this!’ you threaten, but he only laughs again and throws his hands up in defence.

‘and let him know that you were so desperate that you let a peacekeeper fuck you?’ he scoffs. ‘i don’t think so, bunny.’

you feel your heart splintering a little—but two could play at that game, you supposed. you weren’t going to let him snap you up in his net.

‘you can come get them back next time,’ he grins.

your brows quirk up. you hadn’t intended on this happening again… but he was so handsome. and his cock was… well, huge. you did have to admit he was good. very good.

‘next time?’ your mouth rounds into a look of surprise.

‘oh yes, next time.’

#coriolanus snow #tom blyth #tbosbas #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #smut #coryo x reader #the hunger games #coryo smut #the hunger games x reader #tbosbas x reader #female x reader #x reader #coriolanus snow smut #tbosbas fanfic #tbosbas smut #fanfic #drabble #request

1K notes · View notes

sleepyjuice · 6 months ago

Note

protective jj protextiive jj protecitice jj ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

yup yup yup say no more ‼️

one thing about jj is that when he loved someone, he was also fully committed to protecting them at all costs. his circle was small, so when he cared about someone, he would do everything in his power to keep them safe.

but with you, he fully knew he would die before letting anything happen to you. and it sure was a task having a beautiful girlfriend, because to strangers eyes, you were just a pretty face and a pretty body, and that was just a blessing and a curse to jj.

keggers always brought out the creeps, and jj’s blood pressure was always just a bit high every time the two of you went. he would still enjoy himself, but he didn’t miss the way guys would stare at you, eyeing your body as if you were just anyones to have. you weren’t naive about it, you knew people stared, but as long as no one tried to touch you or talk to you, you didn’t let it bother you.

but of course, you didn’t live in a perfect world so trouble was bound to find you every now and then. you had a few drinks and you were feeling good. you had spent the day with jj and this was a great way to end the night together.

“yo jj, I can’t get this keg to tap, can you help me real quick?” john b approached you and jj, gently squeezing the blonde boy’s shoulder.

“yeah I got you,” jj answered, turning to you once he spoke, “c’mon, let’s go baby.” he nudged your waist, nodding towards the direction of where john b had ventured back off to.

you shook your head, “nah it’s okay, kie’s gonna be here any minute and I told her I would wait for her here. you go, I’ll be okay.” you assured him with a smile, not missing the hesitation clear on his face. he didn’t want to leave you alone, but he also didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t be independent and handle yourself alone for a minute.

he inhaled sharply before responding, “alright, alright, yeah. I’ll be right back.” he told you, giving you a quick kiss before going off to help john b. you took another sip from your cup, pulling out your phone to check if kiara had texted you.

“no way a pretty girl like you is here by herself.” a man’s voice startled you as you looked up from your phone, a touron, presumably had wasted no time invading your space as soon as you were alone, great.

“yeah, no, I’m not. but I’m not interested. so thanks but no thanks.” you told the man, looking back at your phone, hoping that for once, a man could have the ability to read the room.

“jesus, entitled aren’t you? can’t even let me say more than one sentence to you before being a bitch?” the man snapped, his ego obviously bruised. you did feel a little nervous now, uncomfortable with how quick his demeanor had shifted. instead of responding, you turned to walk away but were stopped when his hand grabbed your shoulder harshly, yanking you around to face him again.

he had opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a fist to his jaw, and you jumped back in surprise at the sudden violence unfolding before you. you weren’t shocked to see that it was jj who had punched him and you set your cup down as jj kept going at him, reaching from behind your boyfriend to grab onto the fabric of his tank top, trying to pull him off of the guy.

“you think you can just touch girls, bro? when her back is turned to you?” he spat, tensing when he felt someone touch his shirt, glancing back for a moment to see that it was you.

“jj stop, stop, it’s not worth it, please.” you pleaded with him to stop, grateful that he had stepped in to help, but it wasn’t worth him getting potentially hurt over or in trouble.

“you’re a fragile ass bitch, dude. fuckin- apologize to my girl and then fuck off. I’m so serious right now.” jj eventually stopped his punches, but kept a grip on the guys shirt as he forced him to face you. he was indeed a bitch, because he barely muttered out a little ‘I’m sorry’ before stumbling back and hurrying away from the two of you.

“jesus, I leave ya alone for not even two minutes and these douchebags think they can try some shit,” jj rubbed at his now bleeding knuckles before pulling you into his chest, his hands rubbing at your sides, “you okay, pretty girl? you’re not hurt are ya?” you shook your head in response, relaxing into his touch. you hated when he had to resort to violence, but you did understand it in this situation. you were just proud of him for not losing control this time.

“I’m okay, thank you for saving me. that was lowkey hot as fuck.”

(not me getting carried away ummmm oops thank you anon <3)

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank prompt #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fic

889 notes · View notes

chiliyue-archived · 1 year ago

Text

cause i love to love, to love, to love you

↬ in which you have him all lovesick and smiles

includes; dazai, chūya, atsushi, fyodor

notes; i am gonna pretend i didn’t disappear for 2-3 months. this has been in my drafts for so long :( i tried to clean it up as much as i could but it’s really old jfjdks

DAZAI

dazai appears happy. present tense.

his typical inquiries for double suicides came to lessen to conscious degree, substituting in drinking sake together when the sun cowers, nothing but a string of nonsensical chatter proceeding each sip.

he was sticky like that: unannounced visits, impromptu phone calls, sudden changes in his schedule to accommodate yours. in any case, he isn’t one to shy from stooping as low as whining if it rewards him with your familiar face.

( his windpipes splinter before he could mutter it out loud, but the solitude that’s wedged deep in his bones for so long felt lighter when you were near. he questions how long such benevolence would last before becoming sullied by his hand… ).

…and yet all things considered, it hasn’t deterred him from courting you nonetheless. at times he can’t help but think he’s taken a bite of his own medicine when he’s the one skipping around like a helpless maiden.

and yet again in spite of it all, his brazenness remains perpetually untouched as ever. he entertains different approaches if only to coax out a new reaction from you and he’s not bashful in the slightest. so much so, he remains unruffled even under the scrutiny of your coworkers.

. . .

“ this is highly unprofessional.”

“ don’t be so mean, bella. don’t you know how much i missed you?”

your eyes flit down to the man currently using your lap as a headrest, the rest of his body stretching over the expanse of the couch. he was shameless, that much was certain, but his ability to remain unperturbed whilst in his lovey dovey state was impressive. you cocked a brow, sighing.

“ osamu.” his lips visually twitched at the call of his name; it’s a word warm on your tongue but leaves the hairs on his nape at your mercy anyway. " you saw me fifteen minutes ago—”

“ twenty.” he corrected, cheeky (and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled that number out his ass). “ but it was the longest twenty minutes of my life.”

he was unrepentant as ever, experimentally positioning his head to rest on the plush on your thighs. by muscle memory, he began to absently draw shapes wherever he could reach, a crude rendition of stars decorating over the bend of your knee.

he smiles innocently when you squint at him, the gleam in his eyes unwavering. “ only a couple more minutes and i would have been yours,” you mutter out, your voice not as sturdy as you hoped. “ at home.”

dazai almost turns pouty at that. almost. “ but my love, i’ve missed you like crazy. twenty minutes is too long, how can i possibly manage?” the words come out through a breathy exhale and you watch as his lashes kiss his cheeks when he flutters them closed. “ all i could think about is you. and now i have you right here.” he hopes his words carry as much truth as the way his heart does, scurrying away the cold that's mocked him for so long. “ can’t we just stay like this a little longer? pretty please?”

resigned to your fate, you could only clamor your palms over your features— if only to salvage your waning dignity from your coworkers.

unfortunate though… that in doing so you miss the blissful smile curling on his lips as he peeks at you from below. and atsushi notes(after throughly grimacing, not expecting him to be so blunt), it reaches his eyes too.

CHŪYA

" chūya-"

" you can't flirt with me. i have a partner."

terse, stubborn and slurred. if the groggy voice wasn’t enough to confirm your suspicions, the shit-face look belonging to your boyfriend did. he was drunk. wasted if you were to speak bluntly.

in truth, it really doesn’t come off as much of a surprise; his ability to hold his liquor was nothing to brag of (despite what he may profusely argue) and you’re half-convinced he’s already forgotten his own name.

still, you don’t loosen your grip on his sleeve even under the figurative holes he’s burned with his stare. “ chūya. i am your partner.”

“you—! wha-!” his voice erupts into a sudden warble, eyes akin to saucers. " you… you are??"

he takes what’s left of his thinning rationality to study you proper; the style of your hair, your clothing, the smell of perfume/cologne, the familiar quirk of your lips—

oh, he thinks as you push back the loose bangs veiling his face. he doesn’t make any attempts to move, feet stalled and eyes blinking, evidently stunned.

you decide to press on. “ do i look familiar now…?” the lilit of your voice grazes against his ear, plucking out a faint memory tucked somewhere in the crevice of his fuzzy head.

oh. he thinks twice, the stern look bruising his face thawing.

without realizing it, he squares his shoulders in any attempt to remedy his current disheveled appearance, slumped posture pulled taut in— what he hopes— was a more put together frame. conversely, he wobbles on his feet when you continue to eat away at the distance, the ghost of your touch pushing pinpricks into his skin.

“ you’re- you’re really all mine…?” he cringes as soon as it leaves his mouth, coming off eager and hopeful. something like a laugh escapes you and he can’t tell if that’s what made his stomach turn or the alcohol. perhaps both.

“ that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you. you’re so stubborn when you’re drunk.” you punctuate the words with a kiss to his cheek, now warm with revelation. chūya, exhausting the last bits of his energy, shrinks beneath it, a gloved hand clutching his reddened face defensively.

“ why haven’t i made you my spouse yet?” he remarks it so suddenly, you nearly choke on air. he can’t even comprehend what you say thereafter or register the look beginning to contort your features, nothing but liquid courage keeping him afloat.

but- well, if there’s anything the haze trotting his head and his thinning cognition could agree on, it’s that your ring finger appears a little too barren for his liking.

( but not for much longer, he hopes )

ATSUSHI

the sudden change in atsushi’s behavior was a notable observation within the ADA, many of whom watched as the weretiger became stupefied by a face belonging to you. it wasn’t long before concluding it was all the result of a crush; the culprit of which being atsushi himself who played his hand poorly at discretion.

the lovesick chatter would leave his mouth without much rationality, waxing of "[name] this" or "[name] that," and effectively becoming on the receiving end of his praises. it was almost a routine of sorts, occupied by stutters, belated responses and his fidgety footfalls. by the end of it, he fruitlessly attempts to steady his rabbiting heart— if only to stop his blush from staining beyond his cheeks.

even now as he silhouettes by the agency door, the rattle of rain is deafened by the rush of blood to his ears. he anxiously worries the handle of the umbrella in his palms, bouncing from one sole of his feet to the other. should he just ask you? maybe he should wait… now that he thinks about it would be more appropriate to just leav—

“ damn it.” he perks at your sound of displeasure, his heart spiking. “ so much for leaving in a hurry…” you stiffen, realizing you have nothing but a coat protect you from the weather. the flimsy jacket you hurriedly plucked from your wardrobe only added flavor to your disappointment.

atsushi doesn’t miss the opportunity; his feet carries him to you before the unpleasant voice lurking deep in his subconscious bullies him otherwise. “ we can share,” he gestures to his own, silently praying his voice was leveled. it wobbles anyway and by now his knuckles are sheen white as a product of his nerves.

with the organ jumping around in his chest, he almost doesn’t register your ‘thank you,’ only that his fingers were quickly undoing the straps of the umbrella before you could change your mind ( he impulsively bought it earlier that day— his previous pair worned out and far too tiny for two people. but when you thank him with a kind smile, hands slightly brushing with each step, he argues it was the best 800 yen he’s ever spent ).

… that said, a more appropriate question is how you managed to remain naive to all his pining for so long— he’s become despairingly obvious against his own good and yet he can’t find it in himself to change himself, a perpetual lovesick look copy and pasted whenever you entered his proximity.

the same can't be said to everyone else however and he wasn’t particularly pleased when he caught wind of the bets exchanged among his treacherous colleagues. he fears it's only a matter of time before one of them blabs their tongue to you. at this rate, perhaps one of them should.

. . .

" y'know atsushi," ranpo once said, offering his companion a gleaming simper. " you reallllyyy talk about [name] a lot."

"oh.”

his heart flutters, eyes slowly blinking.

" yeah,” he smiles. “ i guess i do.”

FYODOR

" you've been awfully quiet, my dear." fyodor’s voice was just loud enough over the sound of clashing cutlery, fixing you a gaze of genuine interest. " is the meal not to your liking?"

you feel your lips twist into a frown. for being attentive, he (for once) falsely saunters pass the source of your displeasure, failing to recognize the extent of your internal woes. " no- no-" you fidget with your fingers, ignoring the way your propped elbows skidded against the table. the behaviour doesn't go unnoticed by the former, who takes it upon himself to hook his index fingers with yours. “ there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask of you. a… request of sorts.”

“ what is it? i’ll have it shipped to you by the end of the week,” he offers generously though it quickly fades into a confused hum when you shake your head at the proposition.

" it isn’t something you can buy…” you drop your gaze from him to the scantly poked portions of cuisine on your plate. fearing he may misinterpret your words and assume it to be unattainable - perhaps gifting you something ludicrous as a piece of land - you amended quickly. " it’s not what you assume to be either.”

at that, he bums questioningly. “ then what displeases you, my darling?” he provides a faint squeeze to your hand, igniting something warm and paradoxical to his thin layer of frigid skin. “ what can i offer to rid you that frown?”

" just your company.”

" my company?"

" yes." perplexed, he cocks his head; an invitation. willing an inhale to your lungs, you took a moment to gather possession of your words. “ these days you've been rather occupied. i was hoping for perhaps… if we may spend some time together?"

fyodor appears vaguely surprised by that, something unfamiliar fortifying around him. requesting his time felt like a hefty expenditure just in itself and it wasn’t too far fetched to assume he’ll disregard it in favor of some plot embellishing deep within his brain. but a swift refusal never comes.

“ i see,” he finally says after a brief pause. his voice was so soft you wondered if it was meant for you to hear.

it's grows quiet before he speaks again, the fingers curled around your hand withdrawing but not before providing the tips a delicate squeeze. " i can arrange some time tomorrow for you,” he proffers. “ will that satisfy your request, myshka?"

hardly anything can catch fyodor off guard, but something had to be said in the way you brightened at the suggestion, a deep curve coasting over your lips. how pleasant you are.

" yes," you hastily replied, dipping your head slightly. " more than perfect. thank you."

the way your lineaments crossed into a smile was always enduring to observe — exasperated, but one he wouldn’t mind seeing tomorrow knowing he was the cause for such elation.

( idly, he wonders what he can do to see it again ).

A/N !

i’ve been meaning to post this for months but it’s so old & i never quite (and still kinda don’t) liked it :(( fyodor’s is bit ooc jfjdkskla

彡 [BSD m.list]

taglist; @eynnwwyjth @anqelically @seisitive @iheartpieck @seiiblue @averagebsdwatcher @solandiss @4nthonyyliving @guacamoleroll @sunnyx07 @shiopi

join or be removed here

1K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

Gojo going berserk after his wife got injured

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: slight injury, language, Gojo being really mad lol

Notes: My dearest @hitori979, this one is dedicated to you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me since day 0, always liking and commenting my brainrot. I hope you enjoy this fanfic as a little thank you from me 🤍 How other JJK men react when (y/n) gets hurt here Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

„Do you really have to go, babe?“, Satoru’s oh so sweet voice mumbles against your neck.

You know exactly what he’s up to. Satoru always acts this way when you’re about to leave for a mission. How much he hates to see you walk through the door. While he’s fully aware of the fact that you’re a damn strong jujutsu sorcerer, he just dislikes the thought of you getting injured on some stupid mission. If he had it his way, you would stay at home, maybe teach here and there at Jujutsu High, but that’s it.

You are way too precious to risk your life on a mission.

“You know I have to. This is my job, remember? And I have to let you go every day, knowing that you’re not even paying attention. May I remind you that I haven’t been injured for over a year?”, you softly reply.

“That’s not true, I am paying attention!”

You raise your eyebrow demandingly by the way he ignored your last question.

“At least sometimes…Come on babe, this is not fair! Just because you haven’t been injured for some time doesn’t mean you won’t get injured today! Also, I wanted to spend the day with you!”, he complains, arms wrapped around your frame so tightly that it’s getting hard to breathe.

“You always want to spend the day with me. As much as I’d love to stay here, I have to go. Megumi will assist me.”

“I should assist you…”, he mumbles.

“They wouldn’t even send me, then”, you chuckle.

“Promise that you’ll text me, I already threatened Megumi to take care of you.”

“I will, darling. Now let me go or I’ll be late.”

With one last grumble and kiss, he finally lets go of you while you smile to yourself. God, how much you adore your husband. Even though it can be quite challenging from time to time, you admire the way he cares about you.

“I love you”, you shout before you close the door behind you.

“Love you too!”

-later-

“Don’t worry, one or two hours and we’ll be done with this”, you reassure Megumi who stands beside you.

“This doesn’t look good”, he comments.

Unfortunately, he’s right. You don’t know why there are so many curses around, but an uneasy feeling spreads in your guts. This isn’t the right place for a grade 2 sorcerer, let alone a first class student. Well, maybe even you…

“Try to stay behind me. This will get ugly”, you instruct Megumi when another wave of curses appears.

“Gojo-sensei will kill me if you get injured because of me.”

You wink at him while as you unsheathe your sword.

“Who said I will?”

Without wasting another precious minute you sprint forwards, eyes darting around the area. There are so many, way too fucking many, curses around here. This isn’t normal, something is very wrong here. But you don’t have time to think about it any further – Megumi’s and your life depend on your abilities.

You fight off more than 40 curses with ease, slashing your sword over and over. Fuck, this has no end. As soon as you exorcise one curse, two more appear on your sides and try to attack you. With every passing minute it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you won’t be able to complete this mission unscathed with Megumi alone.

“Here are many curses around, I can’t explain why though. It wouldn’t hurt to send some help”, you instruct into your headphone, fully aware of the fact that your husband is able to hear your decent cry for help as well and might freak out.

Where do all of these curses come from? This is a public place, it shouldn’t be possible for them to develop here this well. Expect this aren’t traditional curses…

“I won’t lie to you: Something’s off here. I’m not entirely sure if these are normal curses. Just stand your ground, I already informed the higher ups about this”, you inform Megumi with firm voice, fighting off a curse just before it is able to scratch your face open.

They come from all directions, almost absorbing you. Desperately you fight back with all your abilities, holding onto your sword so tight that your knuckles stand out white. You have to get through all of these curses, you have to find out why they’re here and why on earth so numerous.

But you can’t. Your thoughts wander to Satoru and his words this morning. He’ll definitely go insane when he hears about this. And for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you by that thought. Because this means he’ll come here and end this madness without Megumi getting hurt.

Megumi.

You almost miss the way a curse lunges from behind towards him while he’s busy fighting off three other ones at the same time. Instinctively you sprint forwards as fast as your feet carry you, breath going sharp and fast. No way in hell this thing will hurt Megumi. Not when you’re in charge.

“Bend over!”, you scream on top of your lungs, blade already on its way to cut through that curse.

But just before you hit it, its claws find their way into your face, scratching your forehead slightly before it falls to the ground lifelessly.

You hiss, a stinging pain crawling up your skin. But when you gently scan the spot with your fingertips, only a minor stain of blood shows itself. You let out your breath, relief flooding your body. This is nothing serious, nothing to worry about.

But before you sprint back in action, a reflex holds you back.

“Don’t move an inch, Megumi”, you warn the boy next to you.

In the split of a second, a wave of hollow purple rushes past your orbs, killing every curse on its way. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s him. It has to be him.

“(y/n)!”, he cries out, large frame suddenly by your side.

“What is this?”, he hisses.

Frantically, his eyes scan your forehead, widen in blank horror.

“Oh, this? Just a minor wound, nothing to worry ab-“

“Nothing to worry about!? You promised to be careful, you promised not to get hurt!”, he literally scolds you while his fingertips inspect your wound.

“Stop that”, you warn him, slapping his hand away.

“I did the best I could but they were just too many. And there are always more to come, look.”

Not even a minute later, dozens of new curses begin to flood the streets.

“We need to get back to work!”

“No”, he interrupts you roughly.

“Not you, you’ll stay here.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth too stunned to speak for a second. He can’t be serious, right? This is your mission. You won’t give up because a small wound on your forehead that isn’t even bleeding severely.

“This is my mission, Satoru. I will help you exorcising these curses”, you state in all seriousness.

“Oh yeah? Watch me, then.”

You aren’t able to react any further. With breathtaking speed, Satoru lunges from curse to curse, ripping their heads off in the most violent way you have ever seen while all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. Of course you always knew that your husband is not to be trifled with when it comes to his precious wife, but you’ve never thought that his concern would reach as far as him going berserk because of you.

Because of a minor laceration on your forehead.

It doesn’t even take him 30 seconds to kill all the curses entirely, leaving you completely speechless and a little dizzy. When he walks towards you, a maniac smile is plastered on his blood-covered face.

“No one is hurting my wife and gets away with it. Especially not some random curse”, he announces under his breath, gaze still stone cold.

“How are you feeling, love? Is your head doing okay? Did you get injured somewhere else?”

As soon as his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but concern and love, making your heart skip a beat.

“N-No…I’m fine…”, you stutter while getting lost in his bright blue orbs all over again.

His hands roam around your body gently, gaze scanning every inch of you with that worried expression plastered on his face. Moments like these show you with all urgency how much you really mean to your husband.

“I will kill every single curse walking on this earth to save you, (y/n)”, he speaks out with low voice, lips hungrily brushing over yours so strongly expressed that you feel like fainting.

“I’m sorry you were worried”, you mumble against his mouth.

“You’ll never get hurt by a curse again. I’ll make sure of that.”

2K notes · View notes

areislol · 1 year ago

Text

“You really took care of us huh?”

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing that i know of?

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. OMG IM SO SORRY FOR PUTTING THIS OUT LATER THAN EXPECTED 😭 instead of writing i was playing a game so that’s on me, i was also unbelievably tired this week, my fault! but it’s out now 🫶🏻

►— wordcount. 4.1k

recommended to listen to: wave to earth - seasons or only - leehi

You never expected, not even in a million years or like.. in a lifetime for the video game characters coming alive and appearing in your room.

And they were handsome too, like, drop-dead gorgeous and the fact that they all respect and love you… You were surely the luckiest person alive right now.

These men also made your bank account cry, the amount of money you had spent on them—pulling for them (and losing many 50/50’s) and their weapon, grinding for hours trying to get their materials to ascend them and for their weapons, artifacts (you’d rather not talk about it) skills and EVERYTHING.

You put more work into making sure they’re all fully taken care of and put to the best of their ability than compared to your work. It was a bit concerning yes but, this game—the characters, we’re so comforting to you than anything else. So of course you poured your whole soul into the game and their characters.

(Also the fact that you also read fanfics about them and now they’re suddenly in your room does not help with your infatuation with them)

And so this brings you to where you were now, showing off their showcase at 10 in the morning.

“Oh wow Y/n! You worked really hard to make us strong.. no wonder why I felt so strong all of the sudden in one day..”

Aether watched in awe and amazement as you showed him his artifacts and his weapons with Venti, Pierro, Diluc, Kaeya, Tighnari and a few others hovering and peeking out from behind your chair, watching as you showed Aether’s build to everybody.

The rest were in your living room, eating breakfast. You had decided to eat breakfast after showing the people who wanted to know their builds.

For some reason their characters were still in the game despite really being in your world. You would have to ask Albedo about this later.

“What about me?” Diluc grumbled, trying his best to ignore the states he got. “What? I can’t ask Y/n something so simple?” Everybody shook their heads “no”.

Smiling, you replied. “Of course! I remember when your skin first came out I was all over it, I made sure to buy it to, did you like it? I think it looked beautiful on you.”

Diluc blushed at your words and nodded his head. “Mhm. I loved it, Y/n, thank you.” He stated, smiling warmly down at you.

You began to stroll through your characters until you found Diluc. “There you are—look at you! So handsome..” you sighed dreamily before snapping out of your trance and cleared your throat and began to go through his build.

Once you had finished showing Diluc and everybody his showcase, more people wanted to know about theirs and obviously you couldn’t say no so that’s how you ended up showing nearly everybody’s build and showcasing their skills and whatnot.

“And yeah! I did spend a lot of money but it was.. I guess worth it? I mean I’m glad you guys felt strong and all!”

Tighnari sighed and rested his hand on your desk. “We are all thankful, but seriously you didn’t have to spend all of the days you worked so hard for..” he explained, Diluc agreed with him.

The rest, too, didn’t want you to waste your hard work but then again for you to work so hard on and take care of them ignited something inside of them, so they couldn’t complain.

Before you could respond, a knock was heard. “Come in!” You shouted, turning around in your chair to see who it was.

Lyney entered the room and smiled at you (ignoring the others) “are you done? Your breakfast may get cold you know..” his gaze wanders off to the guys beside you. “Oh, and yours too.”

You could hear the scoffs coming from Diluc and Pierro. “Yeah I’m pretty hungry right now, and was it (Vietnamese) broken rice I smelt?” You asked, getting up from your seat and walking towards Lyney. He nods his head.

“Yeah, Aether found the recipe in a book and found the ingredients for it, lucky huh?”

As you smiled at him and began to walk out of your room followed by the others as Lyney cocks his head to the side—ordering them to get a move on and out of your room. “Come on, I bet you all are starving right now!”

Making your way to living room, you found everybody already done with their breakfast, with only a few plates placed on the coffee table for you and the others.

“Ouuuuh it looks absolutely delicious? Who cooked it?” You asked, sitting down on a pillow beside Xiao and Wriothesley.

“Thoma did with the help of Neuvillette and Childe, surprisingly.” Cyno responded, eyeing Childe from the corner of his eyes.

“Hey… what’s that supposed to mean?!” Childe yelled, pouting at Cyno before looking at you, betrayed and defeated.

You shrug your shoulders and began to dig in your food with Diluc, Venti, Pierro and Tighnari mirroring your actions, sitting down and eating their breakfast.

Childe began to make his way towards you and pushed the other men away that were behind you, this obviously annoyed them but before they could yell at him (start world war 3*) he had wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck.

“You don’t think I poisoned your food, do you?” He mumbled, even though you couldn’t see his face you knew he was pouting.

You shake your head no, not even reacting to his affection—you were somewhat used to it. “‘Course not, I don’t think you could ever actually.”

Childe smiled on your skin and tightened his grip on you. “Mhm. Thanks snookums.”

Everybody cringed (some nearly gagged) at the corny pet name. “Snookums, really? Out of all the petnames.. and it’s not the first time he called them that.” Kaveh whispered to Al-haitham who was obviously disgusted by the pet name.

“Mhm, it truly is disgusting..” Al-haitham whispered back, looking away from the ginger.

Childe rolled his eyes at their reactions and continued to hold you in his arms, Xiao holding back his urge to tackle him right there and then but you were in his arms so he couldn’t, because if he did you would get harmed and he would rather die than hurt you.

While you were eating your breakfast, you grabbed the remote and began to go through the channels—animal documentary, no.. news, yes. Setting down the remote on the table you listened closely to the news.

You weren’t the type to listen to the news but today was an exception, because you just felt like it. “What’s that?” Ayato asked, eyes ogling at the news reporter in the middle addressing the weather.

“Oh-“ “how does she know the weather so precisely?”

“Because, she is a news reporter, she reports on the weather and gives us all of the latest news about whatever.”

The sounds of them “oooh”ing and “aah”ing could be heard from all around you. With Al-haitham and Dainsleif just giving a small “mhm.”

You spend the next few minutes just eating breakfast and watching them all eye the TV and listen closely to the woman. This was.. interesting to them, they had never experienced this before.

Finally you were done eating breakfast, you were the last one to finish so as you began to wash your dish, you looked back and found Neuvillette behind you.

“Oh- god!” Your body jolted as your heart rate spiked up. “You scared me!” You said, sort of breathless.

Neuvillette sends you an apologetic look and apologies. “I’m so sorry for scaring you like that.. I apologize. I should’ve told you beforehand..” his brows furrowed, he looked extremely guilty it was eating your heart away. You couldn’t just not forgive him!

“It’s really okay Neuvillette! I just got a little scare was all..” you laughed at his scared face and turned back around to wash your dish. “What did you want?”

There was silence at first, Neuvillette didn’t respond, there seemed to be a nervous and awkward tension between you two.

“Neuvillette..? Did you want something?” You repeated, placing your dish in the dish rack before washing the other utensils, still awaiting his response.

“I-..” Neuvillette pauses, cheeks slightly tinted with red. “I uhm. I wanted to..” all of the sudden Neuvillette suddenly pulls you in a hug from behind, his arms awkwardly wrapped around your waist.

You were caught off guard by his action but you already knew all of them were touch-deprived and or just wanted to be next to you all the time.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, letting him embrace you in his warm arms from behind. “When I saw Childe hugging you I just.. felt something weird. I wanted to, lord forbid, push him and take his place.”

His words caught you off guard causing you to laugh abruptly and drop the utensils in the sink, a loud "CLUNK!" could be heard. "Oh whoops.. any who uh- Neuvillette are you.." you turn around and raise your brow, smirking up at him.

"Am I what?"

"Are you jealous~" your teasing voice made his heart skip a beat, his eyes focused on you, brows furrowing. "Me? Jealous? I don't know what you mean." Neuvillette sighed, his grip on your waist tightened.

You eyed him and slowly nodded your head. "Mhm.. sure.." Neuvillette peeks his head to the side and spots the utensils still unwashed. "Would you like me to clean the rest? You could go rest and bond with the rest."

Turning your head back around to look at the utensils that laid in the sink. You hummed for a few seconds before responding—"why don't we both clean them? You wanted to be with me right?"

Neuvillette nods his head, offering you a smile. You two began to wash the dishes together with Neuvillette standing beside you, after a few minutes all the dishes were on the dish rack, water dripping off down into the sink.

"All done! Now let's go join the others" you excitedly hummed, grabbing a hold of Neuvillette's arm and walking over to where the rest were.

Kazuha smiled and waved his hand at the both of you, once spotting you with Neuvillette. "You're back! What do you want to do now?"

You sit down on the end of the couch and sighed. "I'm not sure.. I do need to clean my house though, its been a while since I last cleaned it." ever since the men appeared in your room your house has.. sort of been trashed.

Not entirely trashed (Thoma, Kazuha, Diluc, Tighnari and Al-haitham kept the house clean) but still, you really needed to do a deep clean—ever since you've bought a house it really has been a hassle to keep everything in place as you were still in college and had to multi-task.

The mention of cleaning your house definenetly perked some heads up. "Cleaning? I can help!" Thoma offers, eyes shining with excitement (yes he loves cleaning and cooking and everything domestic, he IS the male wife).

"Me too!" "me three, I can help as well!" others chimed in as well, Childe stood up and raised his hand. "I will be the biggest help, don't worry Y/n! What's the biggest job I can do?"

Everybody groaned at the ginger's words and shook their heads in disappointment. Giving his words a thought, you hummed and put on your thinking face.

"Hm.. well I would say cleaning every single crevice you know.. the nook and crannies." you replied, smiling at Childe. He immediately grabbed a duster and set off to clean single crevice.

"I'll wipe the surfaces and all." Al-haitham states, getting up and grabbing some wipes before doing his thing.

"I'll organize your clothes Y/n! Oh and ours too"

"I'll go mop the floors."

Soon, you pretty much gave everybody a role to do (or they just gave themselves the role) and they all set off to do their jobs. Honestly, this had to be one of the best days ever—your house was going to be squeaky clean and plus you get to see them doing domestic chores.

"If you guys need any help just ask me okay?" you mentioned, dusting the books on a shelf. A collective "yes ma'am!" could be heard. They were so respectful it made you fold.

After what felt like hours of cleaning (it was, approximately 4 hours of cleaning) you flopped down on the couch along with a few others and heaved a great sight.

"Good job everybody!! the house looks so much cleaner now..." you sighed, chest heaving up and down. You were all tired, apart from Thoma, Tighnari, Al-haitham and Albedo, they still had energy left.

As you got up from the couch to fetch a glass of cold water, you got a fright from seeing Gorou sitting at your feet, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"Gorou? What's wrong?" you asked, your heart melting at the sight of his ears pressing flat against his head. Gorou stared up at you—his eyes glistening.

He inches closer to you, his arms wrapping around your legs. "What. Is. He. Doing." Childe whispered to Pantalone, eyeing Gorou with... some disgust. Pantalone shrugs. "Lord knows what."

"Uhm, If I may ask Y/n.. Do you think I did a good job today? For uh.. cleaning the house."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as he asked the question. What does that even have to do with anything.. "Yes, you have, why?" you questioned, watching Gorou lower his gaze to the floor.

Everybody watches as the scene unfolds, they were confused, scared, worried, but more so confused.

"Could I get a head-pat?" Gorou asked quietly, his eyes still focused on the floor, his head lowered as if to invite you to pat your head. Was he asking for a head-pat (some kind of reward) for his hard work?

Nodding your head, you began to pat his head softly, enjoying how soft his hair was, your hands would occasionally caress his ears and my god were they super soft!! Heat rushed to Gorou's cheeks as he realized you had no intention of stopping. Not that he was complaining.

"Gorou.. did you know your hair is very soft? Like, unbelievably soft! I could touch it all day if I could.." you exclaimed, if Gorou allowed you, you would definenetly be running your fingers through his hair furiously because it was just way too soft.

You wondered if the other's hair were soft too, I mean, all of theirs's looks soft, Neuvillette and Ayato's looked soft and silky. You should go look for an excuse to touch their hair soon..

As everybody watched Gorou enjoy his head-pats, they all eyed him with jealousy (if you look closely you can clearly see fume coming out of their ears right now), wishing that they were in his position—receiving head-pats from you, what a dream. And they were sure to make it come true.

"Ahem, dearest Y/n, don't you think that I too, did a fantastic job in scrubbing the shower too?" Kaeya sighs dramatically, sliding down and sitting next to you, batting his pretty eyelashes at you.

You turned to face him, pursuing your lips. "Well.. I mean.. yeeeessss..?"

It was a bit confusing after that, Kaeya asked for you to pat his head as well, saying that he "deserved it" (which he did) but then after that the others started to ask for some head-pats too. So in the end you had to give everybody a head-pat, it was very time consuming.

Soon, it was 1 pm—it was time for lunch. Time has gone by so fast with them, you (unfortunately) stop petting Al-haitham's hair and stand up from the couch.

"I'll go make some lunch now okay? Something simple like maybe a sandwich or something, is anyone hungry?"

While a few replied with "I'm hungry" some replied saying that they weren't hungry and would eat a snack of some sort. You began to grab out the ingredients to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich.

You made sure that the men weren't allergic to anything beforehand, you would definenetly not be having beans around Itto at all, while you were busy making everybody sandwiches, Zhongli sat on the chair behind the kitchen counter, watching your every move.

It was sort of uncomfortable, yes, but you didn't really mind at all. You were used to their curious stares after all.

"Zhongli, would you like to be the first one to try it out? I want to see if I need to add anything or fix anything up."

This wasn't your first time making sandwiches but still, you were positive they weren't used to your (earth) sandwiches so why not make Zhongli your taste-tester?

Zhongli nods his head, giving you a warm smile in the process and god was he so handsome. "Of course, It would be an honor to be the first to taste your sandwich." and with that you placed the plate – with the grilled cheese sandwich on it – on the counter, waiting for Zhongli to take his first bite and his opinions on it.

As Zhongli grabs the sandwich and takes the first bite, munching on it. You weren't nervous at all, watching him eat your sandwich. Okay that was a lie you were totally nervous. I mean making a grilled cheese sandwich? Nothing big! But the fact that Zhongli, a handsome, fine, fancy man is sitting right across from you and eating your sandwich is!!!

Studying his face got you nowhere. His face was as always, nonchalant and somewhat still, after swallowing, he looked up and set his gaze on your face.

"It's... amazing! I've never had anything like this before, a simple grilled cheese sandwich I've had but to have it made from you and in your household, in your world, makes it all the better. The taste is also immaculate, truly other worldly. Quite literally."

You crack a smile at his joke at the end and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god.. so it's okay, thanks Zhongli!" you thanked him before going back to making some more before finally setting them all down on the kitchen table, counter, and coffee tables (and some other places as well since those all of them can't fit in three spots).

Tighnari had noticed that you had a couple of plants in your home, they were.. not in the best condition, he had to say. But that was no problem! He could help you raise and take care of them.

"Say, Y/n. Please do not take any offense to this whatsoever but do you take care of your plants?"

The question was out of the blue, yes, and it did catch you off-guard for sure. "Oh- uh, my plants? Well the truth is I haven't really been taking care of them.. I mean I would love to but I'm very forgetful." You explained while smiling sheepishly, it was embarrassing after all.

Tighnari nods at your response and offers you help to which you obviously agree to! I mean who wouldn't? He would take care and nurture your dying plants? Deal!

Everybody began to eat lunch as for the ones who weren't hungry just lounged in your room, Al-haitham read a historical book that you haven't even finished reading (you only bought it because of you thought the cover was really vintage), Pierro stood in front of your window, staring out to the view of the skyscrapers and buildings. Albedo and Cyno were sitting on your bed in silence, waiting for you to finish eating and come back.

"What a total weirdo.." Cyno whispers to Albedo, eyeing the tall, old (and stinky, that's what they call him) fatui. Albedo simply glances at Pierro and looks back at Cyno, confused. "How so? I think it's totally normal to gaze out of the window, don't you think? I mean, the view is absolutely fantastic out there.. so many things we've never seen and don't you agree that the flowers that bloom down near the window looks absolutely-"

Cyno groaned as Albedo ranted on and on, what Albedo was trying to say was basically, staring out the window was "normal". But of course, he couldn't be rude about it so he had to painfully listen to Albedo spitting out nonsense.

Finally, you (along with others) finished your food and washed your dish before walking into your room, leaving everybody else who was still not done (Heizou, Kaveh and surprisingly, Tighnari, are slow eaters).

"You're done eating? What do you want to do now?" Pierro asked, his voice rumbling deeply that it gave Cyno a spook, it gave him the hibbie jibbies. Humming, you thought about your answer but concluded that you wanted to do nothing but sleep.

"Eh, not really. I do want to get a nap in though, I'm sort of tired." You yawned, flopping down onto your bed between Cyno and Albedo. "Would you want us to leave and let you sleep in peace or..?" Pierro asked once again, his face scanning yours.

You shake your head, covering your body in your sheets and curling into a ball. "I'm okay with you guys here don't worry. Pierro could you close the blinds please?"

Pierro nods and closes the blinds at your command, the room now dimly lit. Soon your heavy eyelids take over, but not before the sound of the door clicking open and then followed by Childe complaining about you leaving him.

The obvious sounds of groaning and complaints about Childe could be heard too (Itto was complaining REALLY loudly.), Cyno shushes everybody entering your room, pointing at your trying-to-fall-asleep figure.

"Ooooh, whoops! Sorry Y/n!" Childe apologizes, cringing at the thought of his loud voice waking you up. You could barely hear him though, drowsiness taking over your body and thoughts, nothing was left in your brain except for one thing—sleep.

Kaeya rolls his eyes at Childe before slowing and carefully closing the door shut. "It's only 2:30 pm, isn't sleeping in the afternoon bad or something?" Gorou asked, peeking his head from behind Itto to look at you.

Albedo hums. "Well, yes, but considering that they have been tiring themselves out since we've arrived, I think they deserve this well-deserved rest. Don't you agree?"

The surrounding men agreed, nodding their heads. "I agree, we should let Y/n sleep, I think I should too, without Y/n I'll be bored..." Kazuha yawns, already getting ready to take an afternoon nap with you.

After Kazuha laid down on the mattress, a few others started to mirror his actions. Itto, Ayato, Capitano, Thoma and Kaveh began to settle down on the mattresses while the others went to the other room to take a nap as well (some didn't want to so they stayed out of the rooms and watched the TV or played board games).

Normally when you sleep during the afternoon, you would wake up in the middle of the night, and oftentimes you fail to fall back asleep. And that is exactly what happened to you.

In the dimly lit room, darkness envelops every corner. The only source of light is the faint glow seeping through the curtains, painting the room in a hazy ambiance. You lie on your bed peacefully, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with each gentle breath you take in your sleep, the softness of the pillows cradling your head.

The darkness of the room seems to cocoon you and everybody, it is as if the night itself has woven a protective blanket around you all, the silence is broken only by the distant hum of the city, a lullaby that lulls you deeper into your peaceful slumber.

But soon, your eyelids flutter gently, and in the dark room, you can hazily make out the scene before you. Outside, the moon casted its soft glow through the window, casting delicate patterns on the bodies of the men and on the wall. It illuminates your face.

It was so comforting to you, the soft glow of the moonlight completing everything.

As you take in your surroundings you begin to understand that you were cuddling Kazuha while Ayato had his arms wrapped around you. Smiling softly, you snuggled in closer to Kazuha's chest—pressing your cheek against his warm and slowly rising chest.

And in this dimly lit room, you slumber on, oblivious to the world outside. The darkness embraced you like a mother's embrace, offering comfort, it is a place where dreams are born and nurtured, where the imagination takes flight and as the night deepens and silence engulfs the room, you continued to sleep peacefully, unaware of the outside world.

But then before you could fall asleep your eyes shot open, I have to work tomorrow. Groaning, you nuzzled your face more into Kazuha's chest, knowing the next day would be tiring.

note: IM SO SORRY FOR PROCRASTINATINGGGG i just got home a couple days ago and my jet lag is pretty bad and i have to work and all of that jazz!! thankfully i got myself together and finished it :)

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @hex-vx @saltylovetale @backintomykpopphaseagain @toramune @oreo-ren @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @amaizverydum @lovelive-animequeen1029 @roseapov @yuraasia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealamp @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanisty @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-sh @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcroww @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter!)

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

1K notes · View notes

purifiedclitoris69 · 2 months ago

Text

Darkness and Chaos

A/n: I have no idea how long this been sitting in my drafts, but I finally finished it. Bit unedited, hope you all enjoy! Thanks :)

Wanda Maximoff x enhanced!reader

You had always been attuned to the dark—something about shadows called to you from a young age. You first noticed it in fleeting moments, like when the shadows around you seemed to shift with your emotions, with your father's yelling and your mother's crying and both their drinking. It was subtle at first, easily dismissed, until one day, the shadows responded to your will, protecting you from the poison your parents spat. A flick of your hand could send the darkness swirling, you could create solid constructs like weapons and shields, bind enemies with shadow tendrils, teleport through shadows, and even craft illusions to confuse foes, you were an unpredictable force.

It wasn’t long before your abilities attracted the attention of powerful beings—both good and bad. The team had first encountered you during a mission to stop some HYDRA experimentation. you yourself sat in a cell experimenting with dark energy. You had been held captive by HYDRA, forced to use your powers of shadow manipulation for the organization’s twisted ends. However, the moment the Avengers arrived, everything changed. Their mission that quickly spiraled out of control but you helped them without hesitation, shadows erupted from you like a storm, weaving through the battlefield with lethal precision, and taking out the HYDRA agents like you’ve been dreaming of for ages. Your tendrils of darkness restrained enemies, while walls of shadow protected the Avengers from incoming fire. Wanda, immediately sensing your potential, your desperation to be good, reaching out with her magic, she offered you a way out—not just from HYDRA, but from the darkness inside you.

The Avengers wasted no time putting your skills to use. Your shadow manipulation was unlike anything they had seen, with Wanda’s chaos magic, capable of rewriting reality itself, the two of you became the Avengers' secret weapon against threats too powerful for conventional means. Your darkness and her chaos were like a pair of loss lovers beginning to dance. You communicated without words, your powers flowing together. It wasn’t just your powers that made you a powerful duo—it was your connection. You had trained together for months, learning to anticipate each other’s moves, covering for one another’s weaknesses. Where your shadows needed precision and control, Wanda’s chaos magic thrived in unpredictability, giving you both a perfect balance of order and chaos.

In the heat of battle, your synergy was unmatched. Wanda would send waves of crimson magic crashing into your enemies, altering the battlefield in ways no one could predict, while your shadows weaved in and out, creating traps, shields, and devastating strikes from every angle.

Naturally you guys were an inseperable pair outside of the battlefield as well. You were best friendsand everyone on the team knew it. You spend almost every free moment together, whether it's lounging in the common area, cooking meals in the shared kitchen, or training in the gym. But for you, every moment with her is tinged with something more, something you can never quite bring yourself to admit. It’s the little things that get to you—the way she smiles when she catches you stealing the last piece of pizza, or how she lightly nudges you with her shoulder when you’re both watching a movie on the couch, curled up under a blanket. Her laugh, soft and genuine, makes your chest tighten, and sometimes, when she’s not looking, you find yourself staring at her just a little too long, trying to memorize every detail of her face.

You were falling in love with her, hopelessly and utterly in love—but you can’t say it. Not yet, not when it could ruin everything.

Your days are a mix of training, missions, and downtime. During training, the connection you share on the battlefield spills over. You’re so in sync, knowing each other's movements before they even happen. When you spar, it’s like a dance of power all over again, a delicate balance of strength and grace. Sometimes, when you’re caught up in the flow, you’ll catch her eye, and there’s this spark—something just beneath the surface that makes you wonder if she feels it too. But then it passes, and you’re back to being best friends, pretending that the tension isn’t there.

After training, you’ll both collapse onto the floor, breathless and laughing. "I’m getting better," Wanda says, teasing you with a grin.

"You’re still too predictable," you tease back, though you don’t mean it. She’s anything but predictable. Wanda is like a force of nature—fierce and compassionate, more complex than anyone you’ve ever known. It’s what drew you to her in the first place. But you’ve gotten good at hiding your feelings, laughing off the moments that hit a little too close to the truth.

in the evenings, you’ll make dinner together in the compound’s kitchen. Wanda loves experimenting with Sokovian recipes, and you’ve found yourself loving the process too, if only because it means spending more time with her. There’s always a moment when your hands brush as you reach for the same ingredient, or when you stand side by side at the counter, your shoulders touching. You’ll glance at her, and she’ll smile, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing inside you. Sometimes she'd ask you to just sit at the counter for the company and the insurance so that you wouldn't mess up her 'delicate process,' you'd act annoyed but, it always allowed you to study her more, how she scrunches her nose, the sparkle in her eyes, the way her hair framed her face, anything.

"You're staring again," she says one night, catching you off guard as you chop vegetables.

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. "Am I?" you say, trying to sound casual, but your voice comes out just a little too tight.

She laughs softly, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "You’re a terrible liar."

You laugh it off, brushing it aside like you always do, but every time you’re near her, the feelings only grow stronger. It’s in the way she looks at you with those piercing eyes, the way she leans into you when she’s tired, like you’re her safe place.

Sometimes, late at night, when the compound is quiet and it’s just the two of you sitting on the couch, you wonder what it would be like to tell her the truth. But then fear creeps in—the fear of losing her, of changing everything. So, you stay quiet. When she gets up to leave, she often lingers, just for a moment, as if she’s waiting for you to say something more. You wonder if she feels the tension too, if maybe she’s waiting for you to make the first move. But then she’ll smile, say goodnight, and disappear down the hallway, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the feeling of her absence like a weight on your chest.

Every now and then, you catch her looking at you differently, her gaze lingering a second too long, her touch softer than it needs to be. You wonder if she’s trying to say something without saying it. But you’re too scared to ask, too scared to risk what you have, so you both continue the dance—best friends on the surface, with so much more bubbling underneath.

The rest of the Avengers don't seem to notice the tension. To them, you and Wanda are just inseparable. They joke about it sometimes—and apart of you feel like Natasha knows, Nat teasingly calling you "Wanda’s shadow" because you're always together. And maybe they're right. You follow her wherever she goes, drawn to her like she’s the only source of light in your world. But none of them know how deep your feelings were, how every laugh, every casual touch, every shared glance twists something inside you.

The hardest moments are when Wanda talks about her past—about Vision, the loss, the pain. She opens up to you in ways she doesn’t with anyone else. You’re the one she trusts, the one she comes to when the weight of it all is too much. And you listen, offering comfort the best way you can, but it kills you inside. Because no matter how close you are, a part of her heart still belongs to someone else. And no matter how much you love her, you’re not sure there’s room for you there.

The mission today is different, saving the universe different.

The sky is ablaze with kree ships, and the ground trembles as waves of invaders pour into the city. You and Wanda arrive together, side by side as always, with the rest of the Avengers already in the heat of battle. Steve's voice crackles through your earpiece: “We need backup—now.”

Your heart races, not just from the battle ahead, but from the proximity to Wanda. The mission is urgent, and your mind is focused, but there’s a constant hum in the background—your feelings for her.

You glance over at her, catching a glimpse of her eyes glowing red as she prepares her magic. She looks determined, fierce, and more beautiful than ever. You shake off the thought, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“They’re teleporting in from somewhere,” you say, scanning the battlefield. “If we shut down the portal, we can stop this.”

Wanda nods, and you can see the same determination mirrored in her expression. “I’ll handle the portal. Cover me,” she says, her voice calm but filled with urgency.

Together, you create a dome of darkness, your shadows rising from the ground and swallowing the battlefield in an inky void. The alien invaders stumble, confused, while Wanda floats upward, her crimson magic intertwining with your shadows. You stay close to her, shadows wrapping around your hands like armor as you dispatch enemies who dare to approach. Your abilities blend effortlessly, like they were made to work in unison. And in a way, maybe they were.

As Wanda’s magic tears through the dimensions, severing the invaders’ connection to their homeworld, you can’t help but steal another glance at her. She’s lost in concentration, her hands moving with precise, graceful motions, and it’s in these moments you’re reminded why you’ve fallen for her. It’s not just her power, not just the way you work together in perfect sync—it’s her heart, her kindness, her courage. You’ve seen her at her most vulnerable, and yet she’s never faltered.

With a final surge of magic, Wanda closes the portal, and the skies clear. The remaining invaders are no match for the rest of the Avengers. As you land beside her, the battle over, the battlefield is eerily quiet.

Wanda looks at you, her red magic flickering around her hands before it fades. She’s smiling softly, the exhaustion of the battle evident, but there’s something else in her eyes—something warm, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You did great,” she says, stepping closer. “We always do.”

You chuckle, trying to keep it light. “Only because I’ve got you watching my back.”

Her smile widens, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to blur. It’s just the two of you now, standing in the aftermath of a battle you won together, like always. But there’s something unspoken between you. You can feel it. It hangs in the air like the only shadow you can’t quite grasp.

Admist the two of your distractions, one of the Kree is able to use the last of it's strengh shooting you twice in the back, one going straight through your abdomen. Wanda's face pales as Natasha quickly finishes of the Kree and you fall into Wanda's arms. You can barely focus, but her presence feels like a lifeline. She cradles your face in her hands, her expression frantic, eyes wide with fear.

“Stay with me,” she pleads, her voice trembling. “You’re going to be okay.”

You can feel the warmth of her hands against your skin, and in that moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings spills over. “Wanda,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, “I need to tell you—”

“Not now, y/n” she interrupts, her voice rising as she tries to keep the panic at bay. “We need to get you out of here first!”

But you can see the truth in her eyes, the fear that lurks beneath her fierce exterior. “I can’t—Wanda, I can’t hold back anymore. I love you. More than you know," you force a pained smile as the tears and burning pain blurr your vision, "I'm in love with you."

For a moment, time seems to freeze. You can see the flicker of hope in her eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by something else—fear, and with that your vision goes black.

"Hurry help! Please!," Wanda screams as the rest of the team rushes over.

"We need to get her on the jet now," Natasha says as Steve pick you up with ease, running you straight to the medical table.

You drift in and out of consciousness, the world around you a haze of sounds and sensations. The dull beeping of machines pulls you back, and when you finally force your eyes open, the sterile light of the medbay greets you. Blinking against the brightness, you focus on the figure by your side—Wanda, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the monitors.

“Y/n?” she whispers standing up, her voice trembling with relief. You try to speak, but your throat feels dry and raw, she quickly hands you a glass of water. She’s leaning closer, her hand holding yours, warm and grounding. “You’re awake. Thank goodness.”

The memories rush back—flashes of battle, the sting of pain, and the way she cradled your face in her hands as the world around you faded, as you finally confessed your love. Panic surges through you. “Wanda, what happened?” you rasp, struggling to sit up, but she gently pushes you back down.

“You were hurt. A Kree shot you.” Her voice is steady, but her eyes betray the storm beneath. “Natasha took care of it. You’re safe now.”

“safe, yeah…” you echo, relief flooding through you. “What about you? Are you okay?”

She nods, but there’s a distance in her gaze, a shadow that lingers just behind her eyes. You want to reach out, to pull her closer and make her feel your warmth, but there’s something heavy in the air—a wall between you.

“Wanda, I—” you start, the urgency of your feelings pressing at the edges of your mind. But before you can finish, she interrupts.

“Y/n, listen. There’s something we need to talk about.” Her tone shifts, the seriousness making your heart drop. You search her face, looking for any sign of what she’s about to say, but all you see is a mix of determination and fear.

"Wanda, what I said, it's true," you gulped down your anxiety, "I justt—"

“I don’t feel the same way,” she says, her voice firm yet shaking slightly. The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. “I’m sorry. I care about you, but not like that. We need to focus on being a team...we work better as we are."

Her words pierce through you, each syllable a shard of ice. You feel the warmth of her hands slipping away, and the connection you thought you shared shatters, leaving you raw and exposed. “But I—”

“No, y/n” she cuts you off, her voice rising with a mix of desperation and anguish, "I can't give you what you want. Not in that way, not after everything."

Inside, Wanda is fighting a battle of her own, her heart pounding in her chest. She wants to reach out, to tell you that she feels the same, that she’s been harboring feelings for you since the moment you became friends. But the thought of losing you—the thought of watching you slip away like Vision, like everyone else she’s ever loved—sends a cold wave of terror through her. She remembers the pain of loss, the way it consumed her, the ache that still lingers deep within her soul.

“Wanda, please…” you say, your voice breaking, and her heart aches at the sound. She can see the confusion and hurt in your eyes, and it shatters her inside.

You deserve so much more than a broken person like me, she thinks, forcing a smile that feels like a lie. You deserve someone who can be there for you completely, without fear. But I can’t be that person. I can’t be the reason you’re hurt.

“I just need you to understand,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “We can’t cross that line. It’s safer this way.” But as the words leave her lips, she knows they’re a lie. The truth is that she loves you—deeply, but she can’t let herself act on that love. Not now. Not when the fear of loss looms like a shadow, ready to swallow her whole. “I care about you, and I’ll always be here for you,” she adds, trying to keep her voice calm, even as her heart races. “Just… let’s keep it this way.”

You look at her, the hurt in your eyes a mirror of the pain in her heart. She watches as you swallow down the heartbreak and practically return back to the shell of the person they found at HYDRA. As she watches the acceptance settles in your gaze, a part of her breaks, knowing that she’s ultimately built your walls back up, she's pushed you away when all she wanted was to pull you closer.

What have I done? she thinks, her chest tightening as she sees the distance growing between you.

You nod slowly, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat, your heart heavy with the weight of her rejection. And as you lie back against the pillows, the silence fills the space where the truth should be, echoing with everything left unsaid, "I think I'd like some space for a little," you mumble turning away from her as you try so desperately to keep the tears from spilling.

"Okay," she agrees quietly walking towards the door, she pauses looking back as she's about to leave, "I'm sorry, y/n," she leaves.

#marvel fanfic #enhanced!reader #marvel #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #scarlet witch #Wanda angst #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff angst #angst no happy ending #unrequited love #friends to strangers

251 notes · View notes

la-undercover-latina · 3 months ago

Note

Or how would the boys react to their so being h word cuz of concert content 🫠

A/N: So I'm doing the guys one at a time. I hate myself so I'm going to eventually do all of them

First up, Song Mingi

I went a little overboard on this whoops

Read to Filth

Summary: After Mingi gets back from tour, he reads you like an open book

Warning: Smut ahead. so MDNI under the cut.

“You’re a damn menace you know that?” You walked up to your boyfriend who was just getting out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around his slim waist.

“For what? Showering without you?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“No. When you guys were in America on tour. Those poor Atiny. All of you turn into whores when you breath American air, you most of all,”

A smirk fell over Mingi’s lips at the realization.

“My my, was my little princess watching the fancams of me?” His smirk deepened as your face involuntarily heated up to tomato red.

You were busted.

“Not like there’s not enough content,”

“You know I do that for you right? I know what you do while I’m on tour. You sit here looking all dolled up and just keep scrolling Instagram waiting for the fancams to come in. Am I getting warmer?” Mingi had been slowly stalking towards you like a predator circling his prey.

When you hit the wall with your back, a little yelp escaped your throat as he continued his steps until you could feel the body heat leaving him.

You had to gulp as you realize that he completely abandoned the towel somewhere in hunting you.

“Nope, not at all,” you had to look away from him. He knew you too well to know when you were lying.

“You sure about that? Because you can’t look me in the eye right now,” he moved a few loose pieces of hair behind your ear, making you gulp. His voice pitching lower.

“No, I think I’m exactly right. I think you pull out your toys and think of me,” He leaned in to smell your neck, placing feather light kisses until he felt you shiver.

“Prove me wrong Princess. Let me see your Instagram,” he knew he won.

Now he was just toying with you.

“And if I don’t,” you breathed heavily at your naked boyfriend’s proximity. After his tour in America, you’d become less immune to his intoxicating effects.

“What do you have to hide Princess?” He asked before bringing his lips to your earlobe.

“What kind of dirty things do you have on there?” He growled lowly.

“The girlfriends sent me a bunch of stuff,” you admitted.

“Oh, so that’s it. You don’t want to be punished for looking at my friends,” he grasped your chin in one hand.

“You’re mine,” he growled before crashing his lips onto yours, your arm instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

“Or do I need to remind you?” He asked, the warm brown of his eyes swallowed by lust, the proof poking you on your lower stomach.

“Yes Sir,” you answered his lust with your own. Seeing his dominance did something to you, and he knew it.

“Get on your knees,” he told you, pushing you down to your knees with his large hands.

You slowly got to your knees, trying your best to rile up your boyfriend, and from the impatient look on his face, you were succeeding.

Once you were kneeled in front of him, you wasted no time, bringing him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks while your hands roamed his stomach and chest, a moan ripping its way from Mingi’s mouth as he leaned his head back in pleasure. After so long on tour, you felt like home to him.

It was worth the time away for the ability to treat you like a Queen. Whatever you want when he’s away, purchased with next day air.

He just wished he could bring you with him.

But that’s a discussion for later. Now, he needed to make you pay for looking at his friends.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, making a makeshift ponytail, urging you to take him deeper down your throat. Tears pricked your eyes as you had to adjust your breathing to accommodate Mingi’s length.

“You can take it,” he gasped as you adjusted your head angle, bottoming out on him.

“F-fuck! Just like that princess,” he spoke in labored breaths.

You released Mingi from your mouth, a small pop sound heard when you finally let him go.

“You gotta breathe baby girl. Breath through your nose,” he told you breathlessly, a euphoric smile on his face.

“Yes sir,” you took another moment to get your breathing under control before kissing the head of his cock, licking the underside to drive him insane. He leaned his head back, a whimper leaving his lips.

“Do you like that Sir?” You asked, looking up at him from your lashes.

“Yeah, now get back to work,” With that, you took over where you left off, angling your head to the side and taking him to the back of your throat until you gagged.

“That’s right princess, you only gag on my cock, nobody else,” he grunted, thrusting into your mouth until his thrusts became less coordinated and more messy.

He was close.

“G-good girl,” he purred before he exploded down your throat, and you swallowed every last drop even though it tasted like thick saltwater.

“Did you miss me?” He asked.

“Of course baby,” you answered before he gently helped you up to your feet.

Taglist: @multidreams-and-desires @the-princess-of-mischief-1998

Read the others' here: Hongjoong Seonghwa

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #ateez smut #mingi smut #mingi x reader #song mingi

246 notes · View notes

nadvs · 8 months ago

Text

watch and learn (part four)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is relieved that you don’t linger in the morning. He’s not one for pillow talk.

All you did was sleep next to each other, but waking up next to a girl to talk and cuddle is just too much for him. It borders on boyfriend shit, and he doesn’t do boyfriend shit.

He woke up with you pressed tightly against him, legs tangled, his nose buried in your hair. And maybe he did like it for a second, but that was just from the daze of part-consciousness.

Rafe lends you a pair of sweatpants on top of the boxers and t-shirt you’ve already wearing so you can deal with your door’s lock issue.

You leave his room without many words exchanged, thankfully able to sort the problem out soon after putting an emergency request in with maintenance.

Rafe spends most of his Sunday at the frat house, playing video games with his buddies. When Blake settles onto the couch, he pats Rafe’s shoulder. Rafe is focusing on the screen, but he glances at his friend for a second.

“I dm’d her,” he says with a grin. Rafe immediately clues in that he’s talking about you.

“I put in a good word for you,” Rafe replies, glad he has the game to pay attention to. He feels awkward talking about this. About you.

“Appreciate it, man,” he laughs.

“You thinking of, uh, dating her or…?” Rafe asks, tense but desperate to know if he might lose the best fuck buddy he’s ever had.

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Blake says. Rafe sees him typing from his peripheral vision, surely working on a message to you.

Rafe gave you the heads up, so when you’re sitting in your room reading an article for school, you’re not surprised when Blake follows and messages you on Instagram. You follow back and respond, open to getting to know him.

After dinner that night, Rafe texts you: cowgirl time?

You laugh. It’s a stark difference from the g-rated messages you’ve been getting from Blake all day.

You reply: i’ll be over soon

You’re holding Rafe’s folded clothes when you knock. He opens his door and takes them from you as you walk into his room.

“They fixed my lock,” you say. “One question for you, though.”

Rafe shuts the door and drops the clothes onto his desk, then picks up the wrapped condom he has ready and tosses it on the bed.

“What?” he asks as you sit on his mattress.

“How come you were cuddling me this morning if you hate it so much?” you say.

Rafe feels the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment.

“I wasn’t,” he says. It’s funny seeing him shy for once. It’s even a little cute.

He was embracing you pretty sweetly this morning. You woke up with his warm, heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, his head nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his snores sporadic and low.

You know it was just a sleep-induced reflex in his tiny bed, but you can’t pass up a chance to mess with him.

“It’s okay to like it,” you joke. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Rafe can’t have this conversation. He leans over, his hands on your cheeks as he kisses you. He’s not wasting any more time.

You let him push you onto your back, lying in the middle of his bed, your head resting on his pillow. Rafe hovers over you and grinds against you, his hard bulge pushing against your middle.

You’re already throbbing for him as his lips roam over your neck. You angle yourself so that he can have full access to you, and he accepts the invitation immediately, his hot mouth on your throat.

He’s slow and tender. This is a far cry from the man who immediately went to groping you just a few nights ago.

Your hands find his hair, raking through his soft locks as he kisses and sucks at your neck. He lets out a soft, nearly silent moan as gently graze his scalp. The sensation gives him goosebumps.

“That feel nice?” you whisper with a smile. Rafe can only nod. He didn’t even have to tell you to do it. He didn’t even know he liked it until you did it.

You continue to play with his hair while he kisses your neck. Rafe feels you writhing beneath him, as if your body is begging for his.

You take turns taking off each other’s clothes with earnest movements, your pulse growing even faster once his boxers are off, his cock raised and swollen. He lingers over you, eyes sweeping over your face, before he puts his mouth on your neck again.

He kisses and sucks, making you gently buck your hips against him.

“You gonna ride me, baby?” Rafe asks against your skin. Your yes comes out with a raw exhale.

His hand cups your waist, pushing to encourage you to roll to your side and switch positions. He settles on his back as you straddle him, feeling the underside of his firm length pressing against your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” Rafe says. You look down at him with a hungry look in your eyes and nod. It’s exhilarating to see you hanging on his words; outside of sex, you gibe and pester each other, but here, right now, you’re in perfect harmony.

You pick up the shiny condom wrapper he left on the bed and he smirks in satisfaction.

“Put it on me,” he instructs. “It shows how bad you want it.”

You open the wrapper and settle on your knees to set the condom on his tip, rolling the lubed latex down his thick cock.

The sight of you holding him with one hand and rolling the condom down with the other makes Rafe’s brain foggy.

You thought you’d feel graceless turning to mount him in reverse cowgirl, but it feels natural and familiar now that you’re getting more comfortable with him, remembering this is all to help each other improve. You sink down onto him, body tensing at the feeling of him stretching you out.

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut, remembering how he encouraged you talk through it last night in the car.

“You’re so big,” you praise, voice breathy.

“Yeah?” he groans behind you. “You take my dick so fucking good.”

Your silky walls hug him perfectly, your body starting to rock. He watches your pussy swallow his girth, wishing you would go faster, but letting you take your time and adjust.

Rafe always went fast before, right to what he wanted most, but you’re teaching him that there’s pleasure in the lead-up, too. Coming up with the proposal to do this with you was the best idea he’s ever had.

You arch your back, trembling as you start to quicken your pace, sliding up and down his slick cock and gasping at the pleasure of him hitting so deep inside of you.

Rafe’s breaths are ragged as he watches your ass bounce with every slam. His hands are on your hips, but his touch is feather-light, letting you do it all.

Between your thrusts, you pause when he’s bottomed out to writhe and roll on him, enjoying every angle as he massages inside of you.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans as you squeeze around him.

“Should I…” you begin. You look over your shoulder to see the dazzling sight of his quirked up lips, lids heavy, bare chest glistening with sweat. You remind yourself to stop being so nervous. “I’m gonna touch myself.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Good girl.” He desperately wants to watch, but he’s here to get better in bed, and putting your pleasure first sometimes is clearly something he needs to work on.

Rafe hears you moan, knowing you’re rubbing yourself. He looks up at the ceiling to keep himself from cumming from hearing your groans mixed with the sound of your wetness.

“Shit, I…” you say, your thighs starting to weaken. “Okay, you can help a little.”

He immediately bucks his hips against you, positioning himself so he can fuck you while underneath you. The pressure from him jolting up against you is like a drug.

“How am I doing?” he rasps. Your moans are telling him everything he needs to know.

“You’re… fuck…” you breathe, your body shaking with every thrust. “Perfect.”

The pleasure from your words quells him. He feels you clenching around him and he knows with certainty now when you’re about to reach your peak.

His hands are on the small of your back, fingers splayed over your skin, as you ride him into a mind-blowing orgasm. Every inch of your skin tingles as you cum, looking down at your hands on his sheets.

You eventually lift off of him, breathless, turning to look at him. Rafe loves that expression on your face, pure elation and fatigue.

“However you want me,” you tell him tiredly, eager to give him the same feeling you gave him.

“On your knees,” Rafe says. He doesn’t even have to think about it. You twist into position for him, cheek pressed against his bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

Rafe’s hand is on his cock as he guides himself into you, revelling over how pretty your cunt looks, so swollen and wet.

His hands are tight against your hips as he slams into you, making your body rock. He looks down to your face, taking in your profile as you accept all of him, your lips parted.

“However I want?” he mutters, panting as he pushes in and out of you. “That’s how much you love this dick, yeah?”

“However you want,” you echo, your voice raspy from tiredness. “Whatever will make you cum inside me.”

He slaps your ass, the lust taking over him, and immediately worries it was too much.

The low moan you let out tells him it was a good move. He smirks to himself, thrashing harder, balls slapping against you, bed squeaking beneath you.

You feel him harden and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he cums, letting out a tangled string of fuck’s.

He pulls out and you drop to your side, laughing out of bliss. You knew sex was good, but never that it was this good.

As Rafe cleans up, you sit up to find your clothes, utterly fucked out. While you’re sliding your top on, he sits on the edge of his bed close to you, boxers back on and blue eyes travelling over your face.

“So, how… was your day?” he stiffly asks.

You laugh. Hard. He’s so awkward about it, but he’s trying. It’s endearing.

“Aftercare,” you say. “Look at you go.”

Your laugh is contagious, making him chuckle, too.

“It was good. My readings are kind of killing me, but good. How was your day?”

You stand to put your pants on as Rafe watches you, his dirty blond hair tousled.

“Just played video games with the guys,” he replies.

“You know we’re here for school, right, frat boy?” you tease.

“What’s that?” Rafe plays along. You chuckle and nudge his shoulder.

“I need a shower,” you say. “Promise I won’t show up in a towel this time. Well done.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes at him before leaving his room.

Between gruellingly long classes and hanging out with friends in his free time, the week seems to get away from Rafe. Before he knows it, it’s Thursday night and he’s hanging out with his brothers at the frat house.

Someone mentions ordering food, and as a show of camaraderie, Rafe picks up the tab. As he sits at the dining table amongst large group of guys, Sam gets to talking.

“Rafe, you think we could go with your car tomorrow, too?” Sam asks. “You could fit four of us, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Rafe figures that all the new pledges are going to get stuck with the jobs nobody else wants, like driving to certain outings. It’s only an hour drive, though, so he won’t complain.

The frat has plans to go south to Sam’s family’s lakehouse for the weekend. He’s only been part of the frat for almost half a month now, but Rafe is thoroughly enjoying having such a full social calendar.

“It was supposed to be just us brothers…” He shoots a look at Blake.

“What? You said it was cool,” Blake laughs.

“Who else is coming?” Rafe asks.

“Blake invited your hot neighbor,” Sam says. Rafe almost wants to say that you have a name, the reflex to defend you surprising him.

“She said yes?” Rafe asks, his tone hastily snide.

“She’s bringing friends, too,” Blake says, not catching onto Rafe’s irritation. “It’ll be more fun having girls around. Trust me.”

“Can I invite some girls, too?” another frat brother asks.

Rafe glances down at his paper plate, his jaw tight. If you start something real with Blake, this is over. He regrets not seeing you since Sunday. He should have taken advantage of the potentially limited time with you.

When he heads back to his dorm room later that night, Rafe texts you: soo ur coming this weekend?

You respond: what kind of coming?

You’re at Liv’s, talking about what to pack for the upcoming getaway. You’re only staying for a night and half a day, but you don’t want to risk forgetting anything.

“This one? Or this one?” Liv asks, holding up two bikinis.

“The red one,” you answer. Blake only mentioned that there’s a hot tub at the lakehouse about ten times.

You didn’t think you’d say yes when he first asked about this weekend, but when Liv and three other friends said they’d be up for it, you figured a getaway would be fun. Even if it involved a group of rowdy frat boys.

Blake mentioned it was supposed to be a bonding trip, whatever that means, but said that he wants you to come. You’re still not sure how you feel about him, but you’re willing to pursue it.

Your phone buzzes.

Rafe: lol shut up

You smile at the message.

“What’d he say?” Liv asks, a smile on her face. She knows you’ve been casually texting Blake back and forth.

“It’s Rafe this time,” you tell her. “Probably a booty call.”

You reply to him: yeah I’m coming. does that make me a frat bro too

Rafe: u wish

You: i do :( i really do wish

You see the bubbles on your screen telling you that he’s typing.

Rafe: come over?

You just got to Liv’s and don’t want to bail on her for a guy. So you reply to Rafe: can’t tonight.

Rafe’s stomach drops at the notification. Maybe you’re done. Maybe all he got was three nights with you, before another guy swept in to take away the best no-strings-attached sex he could ask for.

He feels better when you reply: but i’ll see you tomorrow :). Good. At least you’re not tied down to anybody yet.

When you pull into the driveway of the lakehouse the next evening, you realize the word house doesn’t cut it. Maybe manor would be a better fit. Or palace. The place is gigantic.

You and your friends pile out of the car and enter the storm of loud men enjoying uncurbed fun and excessive beer. Sigma Chi brothers are scattered around the first story of the house, but the majority of them are surrounding the kitchen island, bottles and solo cups littering the granite counter-top.

Rafe has to look away when Blake greets you with a hug. He hasn’t mentioned to anybody that you’re technically still hooking up, but now, being in the same room with both of you, he feels a competitive urge catch fire in his gut.

He thought he liked Blake. He doesn’t right now.

Thankfully, your friend groups seem to naturally merge together. The endless amount of liquor probably helps.

During a rambunctious game of flip cup that you decide to sit out, in the haze of your tipsiness, you’re not sure if Rafe finds you or you find him or you find each other at the same time, but you’re soon standing by the fridge together, tension thick between you as you watch the drinking game unfold.

Rafe can’t help himself. He has to ask.

“What were you so busy with last night?”

“I was with my friend,” you say. “What were you so eager to practice?”

Rafe cracks a smile, ducking his head so you and only you can hear his low, smooth voice.

“I wanna see how fast I can make you cum.” Arousal coils in your stomach instantly. “I bet I could do it in a minute now.”

He pulls back, his smile coy.

“We’ve had sex like two times-”

“Three.”

“Three,” you laugh. “And you’re that sure of your skills?”

Rafe simply nods, taking a slow drag of his drink.

“I don’t know where you get that confidence from,” you say, looking at him with feigned disapproval.

“You called me perfect,” he says.

“Doesn’t sound like me.”

The group playing flip cup erupts in a loud applause. You can tell which group lost the game immediately by looking at Blake, who’s laughing and excitedly shaking his friend by the shoulders.

You watch him, realizing okay, you definitely have a crush. He’s cute and charismatic and if the messages you’ve exchanged this week are any indication of his character, he’s kind, too.

Rafe is looking at you the entire time, at the smile on your face.

“And you like this?” you tease, looking back at Rafe and gesturing to the group of boisterous frat boys.

“You mean fun?” Rafe replies. You laugh. You can admit you’re having fun, too. But this is what you and Rafe do. You mess with each other.

“I couldn’t be around this 24/7,” you say.

“I’m gonna be when I move in to the house next semester.” Rafe realizes he’s waiting on your reaction with bated breath, to see how you feel about not sharing a wall anymore.

But he’s interrupted by Blake, who approaches you with a drunken smile.

“Why didn’t you play?” he asks softly, tapping your shoulder.

“For my own safety,” you reply. “You guys are insane.”

“She’s so rude,” Blake says to Rafe, who can only nod and take another sip of his drink to swallow down the confusing lump of anger he feels growing in his chest.

“You mentioned a hot tub?” you say to Blake, the promise of a warm soak sounding amazing. Rafe wonders what else Blake mentioned to you.

Blake’s smile widens and when he offers his hand, you take it and let him lead you out of the kitchen. Rafe’s fist tightens around his cup.

Liv and two other frat boys join you and Blake in the hot tub. You have fun talking and joking with them as your beer wears off. You notice Blake moving closer to you as the night goes on.

Things slow down close to 2 a.m. People start to retire to the guest rooms. Some don’t even make it and pass out on the couch.

Rafe is still awake when you come through the back porch doors in your bikini, your hardly covered body wet. The sight makes his groin tighten.

He’s standing in the dining room snacking on pretzels and you meet his gaze. He has something about him that strikes you every time you see him. He’s just so handsome.

He seems entirely aware and alert.

“You’re sober, too?” you say with a surprised laugh, pacing to the other side of the dining table.

“I am,” he replies. You lean over to take a pretzel, giving him a good glance at your cleavage.

Truthfully, Rafe cut himself off when he started feeling buzzed. He stayed awake and sober for you.

The moment he watched Blake lead you away, he knew he had to have you at least one more time before you’re spoken for. Nobody’s going to take you away from him any longer, at least not tonight.

So before Sam went to bed, he convinced him to give him the keys to his family’s boat that’s sitting in the water down by the lakeside dock.

“You ever fucked on a boat?” Rafe asks, his eyes glinting, his dimples deep. He holds up a key.

You put a hand on your hip, excitement flooding your every sense.

“First a car, now a boat?” you say, a smirk growing on your face. Is he seriously about to take you out this late at night? He’s insatiable. And adventurous. It’s thrilling.

“Come on,” Rafe rasps with a bit of a whine to his voice, stepping closer to you, towering over you as his hand drags over your arm.

You couldn’t say no if you tried.

(part five)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #obx smut #rafe fanfic #rafe x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

1K notes · View notes