#also this is my first time trying my hand at making gifs with words involved so i hope they turned out alright !!!
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cherry-pop-soda ¡ 2 years ago
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MISS SCARLET AND THE DUKE 3.04 - Bloodline
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carbonfiction ¡ 1 month ago
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Dark Desires
older, best friends dad!Logan x reader
summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..
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warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.
A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilĂ .
Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)
Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.
You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.
You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?
But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?
You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.
You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.
You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.
You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.
One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.
Everyone had laughed, all except you.
You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.
You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.
But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?
So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.
You: I need something.
You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.
But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.
It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.
Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.
That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.
Logan: You need to go to sleep
Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.
But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?
You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.
Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.
You: sorry. Wrong number.
And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.
Logan: Is that true sweetheart?
Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.
You: No
Just that. A simple No.
Logan: You telling a lie?
You: Not exactly
Logan: So you wanted my attention then?
You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.
And yes, you know need is a very strong word.
Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.
You: what if i want something dangerous.
You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.
A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.
But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.
Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?
And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.
You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.
Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.
You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.
You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.
Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.
Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.
She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.
Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.
And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.
The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency
But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.
Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'
You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.
Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.
Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.
You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.
Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.
Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.
Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.
You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.
Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.
Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.
You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.
Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.
So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?
when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.
Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.
You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.
You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.
His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.
But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.
His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.
He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.
And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.
"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.
Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.
"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"
Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.
"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.
"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.
"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.
Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.
"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.
"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"
With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.
Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"
You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.
"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."
And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.
It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.
Used and humiliated around logans cock.
Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.
He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."
Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm
"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.
"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."
"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"
You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.
"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"
and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .
But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow
you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.
Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.
The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.
"Kitty!"
Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.
"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"
Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.
Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."
No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.
Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.
"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"
You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."
You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.
"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"
You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.
it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.
Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.
Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.
"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"
You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.
You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.
thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333
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venusbyline ¡ 2 months ago
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Fault ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 15, oct.
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— pairing: Spencer Reid x girlfriend!reader
— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)
— kink: safeword use
— summary: You knew things were different since Spencer came back from prison. But you never imagined he would hurt you so bad.
— word count: 1.2k
— tags/warnings: kinktober 15th day, female!reader, post-prison!Reid, dubcon, safeword use, ignored safeword, rough sex, vaginal sex, degradation, asphyxiation, breathplay, rape/non-con elements, fingering, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, crying, light bondage, overstimulation, sadism, no aftercare, ambiguous/open ending, curse words, switching, mild angst, dom!Reid, sub!reader, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.
— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917
— crossposting: AO3
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Ever since Spencer came back from prison, you had already noticed something different about him. You knew about the traumas and fears he went through when he was arrested, just as you knew about the constant nightmares he had, always involving those times or even involving you. He never wanted to tell you what they were about, but you figured they did not involve good things. They were probably about his traumatizing memories. His dark desires.
You also realized that Spencer was different when he did not come back refusing your touch, but searching for more. Mainly sexually. It was almost suffocating, precisely because he was a very different version of the shy, nerdy boy you had fallen in love with years ago.
Spencer always liked being submissive to you. Letting you take control of the moment. Letting you make him a whining mess, begging for more. More touches. More kisses. More sex. More of you. He always needed you to be the dominant side of sex.
But now... Everything has changed.
You knew your boyfriend better than anyone. You knew what he was doing was not just trying something new or being a switch. Spencer was punishing you.
With each rough thrust, with each cruel word spoken as he pressed you tightly against the mattress and placed his hands on your waist so he could increase his movements' speed even further.
Spencer Reid was punishing you. He was blaming you. He was blaming his own girlfriend.
You did not know exactly why. You could not remember anything wrong you could have done to him in the last few months. There was nothing that could cause such a huge change to his personality and your relationship's dynamics. There was nothing but the traumas tormenting his mind. His mental ghosts and cages.
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"S-Spencie, stop. It's too much, baby..." Your voice came out trembling and tearful while he gripped your neck tighter than expected, pressing your face into the pillow so hard that your hands immediately began to grip the sheets to try to lift yourself up.
Your lungs were begging for and you tried to move beneath him, his cock practically impaling you with each thrust, fucking you like he wanted to break you. You never cared if he was rough or if you were sore afterwards — even if it was rare because you were more dominant in the relationship, but being submissive for now could be just as good. At least if he did not seem to hate you every time he fucked you in the last few weeks.
"P-please stop... Spencer, it hurts. You're really scaring me..." You muffled, starting to panic at the feeling of the pillow preventing you from breathing properly.
As soon as you managed to put your hands behind your back to touch his chest, a loud cry out echoed throughout the room when Spencer took the opportunity to pull both of your arms back, holding you and lifting your body off the mattress, continuing to fuck you like an animal. "Fuck, couldn't you breathe, little princess?"
His words were bitter and sharp, making you whimper pathetically when he stopped moving his hips to bite your neck and mock you, keeping your hands firmly behind your back. "You're weak and pathetic. You know how much I endured inside that fucking prison? You know how much I'd to suffer and feel pain? And you're crying like a spoiled little cunt 'cause you can't breathe for at least a few seconds?"
You did not know what to say. You were scared and confused. Your mind was void. Completely blank. You could only focus on the pain you were feeling, having your hands being held by your boyfriend, the pain of his deep thrusts inside you and how it all seemed too much. Why did Spencer hate you now? Why was he fucking you like he really wanted to hurt you? To break you?
You knew you needed to say something. You knew you needed to say your safeword, the one that would make him stop everything. The one that would make him go back to normal or at least make his cock come out of your sore pussy and leave you alone for a while.
You knew you needed your safeword, but you could not bring yourself to say it. You could not say anything other than sob when he pushed your body back down, pushing your face harder as you struggled, starting to cry and sob in panic, squirming as he lowered himself onto you. Now, his chest was against your back and he kept fucking you even deeper and rough, but with one hand almost crushing your breast and the other rubbing your clit.
"Your pussy makes me sick..." Spencer growled, slapping your overstimulated bud hard and making you cry out with pain, tears flowing when you realized that he was going too far. "Stupid, brainless little bitch, crying like a whore while creaming my cock. That's all you're good for. I should tie you to this bed, fill you with cum whenever I wanted, even if you—"
"SALEM!"
Spencer continued fucking you after your voice full of pain, fear and despair, but he was in complete shock. You had screamed the safeword. You had actually screamed the safeword that you two chose since your first time together, when you remembered that the first thing he said when he met you at the pub was a random curiosity about the Salem Witch Trials. You had been together for years and none of you never needed to say that. You had never gone too far with him when you were taking the dominant role, but Spencer… He had brought this on you. On both of you.
He had not realize how destroyed he was after his arrest or how your relationship was already becoming almost toxic. Spencer had not realized why he acted like he hated you until he saw what he had done to you. Until he realized that he had continued fucking you for about twenty minutes even after you said your safeword. Your face red from crying, your sobs echoing through the room, your arms gripping the bed sheets as if they were an anchor of sanity for both of you, your body weak and trembling due to the rough of the last few hours...
Spencer saw the fear in your eyes. You were scared of him. "Baby... I'm... I'm so sorry..." He began to stutter, his voice panicked, as sweet as it was before he was arrested. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."
He pulled out of you, letting out a soft involuntary moan at the absence of contact, but his own eyes filled with tears when he saw how you sighed in relief amidst the crying and how your pussy looked swollen, reddish and bruised. Because of him.
“Love, I swear… I'm so—" He cut himself off the second you started sobbing and hyperventilating at his sudden touch of your hair. Spencer could not stop the tears from running down his cheeks, wetting his stubble. "Baby, please. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, love, believe me. Please, forgive me..."
Spencer Reid knew almost everything about the world. Any curiosity about physics, chemistry, mathematics, history, philosophy... but Spencer Reid did not know what had happened to his mind lately. He did not know how to fix his relationship. He did not know what to do to fix you. You were panicking. You were scared. You were so fucking broken. And it was all his fault.
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ihavemanyhusbands ¡ 20 days ago
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Bacchanalia
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Also on AO3
Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader
WC: 2.2k words
Summary: At one of Rome's debauched celebrations to the god Bacchus, you and a handsome, masked stranger have a little celebration of your own.
Warnings: MINORS DNI this fit is 18+, smut, porn with no plot, implied orgy (it's happening in the background somewhere lmao), masquerade type setting, oral (m and f receiving), shenanigans with wine, fingering, unprotected p in v (you better not try this at home), creampie, swearing, aaaaand I think that's its but lmk if anything else lol
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The atmosphere was heady, perfumed with sweet violet, myrtle, and the musk of sweat-slick bodies. The air was thick and smoky with incense, giving the vast room a dreamlike quality. The warm flicker of candlelight casted long shadows of writhing forms on the walls, moans and other sounds of ecstasy drifting to your ears as you passed by a couple of curtained siderooms. 
Still, nothing really seemed to pique your interest enough to get involved. At least, not yet.
It wasn’t your first Bacchanalia, so you already knew what to expect, but you were even more thrilled at the fact that everyone was wearing a variety of different masks. Even the naked servants carrying trays of wine did not show their faces. Pleasure did not always need a name, after all. Without it, one could be whoever they chose, if only for a few hours. 
Your mask was meant to represent Diana, lunar goddess of the hunt. You walked slowly and deliberately through the halls of the estate, doing exactly that, except you weren’t entirely sure what you were hunting for.
You passed an archway that led to the gardens and saw a couple of lovers playfully chasing each other in the moonlight, wearing the faces of nymphs and satyrs. You huffed with amusement, leaving your empty cup on a passing servant’s tray and continuing on your way.
Your eyes skirted past Jupiter who was clearly trying to get your attention, but his disappointment was short-lived as Juno came to lead him away. You sighed, following an instinct that led you down another hallway across the atrium.
And suddenly, rounding the corner, you saw a stag at the other end of the hall – or at least, a man who wore the mask of one. The two of you seemed to spot each other at the same time, freezing on the spot. Time seemed to condense into just that moment, while you assessed one another.
He was tall and statuesque, built like the beautiful Adonis. He wore a loose, artlessly draped toga, revealing most of his lean, muscled torso. The thought of him wrapping those strong arms around you, lifting you or wrangling you into different positions, immediately came to mind. As if he could sense your thoughts, he smiled, an eager invitation to make fantasy into a reality. 
You huffed once again in amusement, curiosity finally overtaking you. Like you, he didn’t seem to be accompanied, but that was all the better in your eyes. Something about him seemed to stir your greediness, unwilling to share the bounties of your hunt.
You pantomimed retrieving an arrow from a quiver at your back, notching it to an invisible bow and drawing it back, then releasing it with a splay of your fingers. He reeled back as if struck, clutching the imaginary wound on his chest and falling to his knees.  Your chin was raised triumphantly as you stalked towards him, looking down to see a pair of crystalline eyes staring back at you through the holes in the mask.
There was a spark of mirth in them, reflecting your curious desire. You grabbed his bearded chin with one hand and leaned in,  your eyes drawn down to the slight heave of his chest. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips.
“Got you now,” you said, voice low. “Come with me, my trophy.”
You turned to lead him away, glancing back flirtatiously as you let your tunic slip off your shoulder. He scrambled to his feet, following behind as you searched for an empty side room. You beckoned him into the first one you found, slipping inside, and he took some wine from a passing servant before joining you.
The room was darker than the hallway, with only a few candles illuminating one side of it. You let your tunic fall to the ground just as he entered,  warm light flickering over your skin. He stood there for a moment, stupefied at both your beauty and your boldness. He felt himself the tribute to an actual goddess, blood already boiling even if he hadn’t even touched you yet. 
He approached, raising the cup of wine to your lips so you may drink. His free arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. Instead of drinking some himself, though, he raised the cup above your heads and poured the rest of the wine on both of your chests. You gasped, taken by surprise, and he tossed the cup aside carelessly.
He buried his face in the crook of your throat, licking the droplets that had spattered there as you pulled at his toga, clumsily undoing it. His eager tongue lapped at your clavicles and sternum, moving down to the swell of your breasts. But before he could get there, you pushed him back only to get your mouth on him, too.
The wine tasted even sweeter on his skin, especially when you heard the soft little moan in his throat. Unable to resist, you bit one of his pecs, tongue swirling around his nipple. He sucked in a breath, kicking aside the fabric of his toga as it fell to his feet.  He gently tugged your head back by your hair, his lips meeting yours ferociously.
You weren’t sure if your head swam from the wine or the kiss, but you submitted to it all the same. His arms enveloped you once more, his tongue dragging over yours, eliciting a soft mewl from you. You felt a sort of frenzy overtake you, the impulse to devour him whole threatening to consume you. Especially as there was a rather pressing distraction between you, bumping against your navel.
You cupped him in your palm, smiling against his lips as his breathing hitched. “Someone’s excited.” 
“H-how could I not be?” he rasped, head tilting back as your lips went back to his chest. “Who else can say they’ve been ravaged by the fierce Diana herself?”
You chuckled, flattered at his words. “No one, of course.”
You left a trail of searing, open-mouthed kisses leading downward until you were on your knees in front of him. You kissed one hip bone and then the other, repeating the teasing process with his thighs. His erection pulsed in response, demanding attention. In the low candlelight, you could see a glistening bead of precum on the tip of it, lightly smearing near his belly button.
You flattened your tongue and licked the underside in its entire length. He shuddered, thigh muscles clenching as he resisted the urge to guide your head. You teased the tip with a few kisses, swirling your tongue around it and tasting his arousal. You gripped the base as you took it in your mouth, his deep groan nearly giving you goosebumps. 
One of his hands hovered just behind your head as it bobbed up and down, taking more and more until you could feel the tip at the back of your throat. He murmured expletives, his eyes screwed shut. But before he could get too close to the edge, the muscles of his lower abdomen already tense, he pulled you back by the hair as he bent to kiss you. 
His tongue invaded your mouth, tasting traces of his precum. Given the mess you’d been making of him, a debauched string of saliva connected your lips as he pulled back slightly to look at you. You grinned, biting your lip, your hand still stroking him. He placed a hand over yours to keep it in place, drawing in a long breath.
“Not like this,” he husked, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. “Let me have my turn.”
You slightly tilted your head to one side and nipped at one of his fingers playfully. You could feel your own arousal drip onto the floor, more gathering between your thighs. The least he could do was help clean you up.
“Come here, then,”  you said, rising. 
You had him sit on the floor, his back against the wide couch on the other side of the room. You drew closer, practically cornering him, and propped a foot on the edge of the couch by his head. You enticingly slipped your fingers through your slick folds, feeling his hot breath against your cunt as he lifted his head.
“Fuck,” he groaned, tongue tracing your inner thigh, followed by his teeth. “Sweeter than wine…”
“And there’s more where that came from,” you rasped, fingers threading through his hair so you could press his face against your cunt. 
He lapped you up with gusto, using lips, and tongue, and teeth to savor you properly. He gripped your leg for support, keeping you in place at the same time. Your head tipped back as a moan was wrenched from your throat, your hand keeping a tight hold on him. Absently, he stroked the head of his cock ever so slowly, keeping himself teetering on the edge. But he wanted to save it for the best part, when he’d be buried deep inside you, your bodies melding into one another.
Your hips rocked back and forth against his face, seeking the added friction. He moaned against you, feeling like he could stay there for hours, drawing out your honey and worshipping you. Quick little flicks of his tongue against your clit make heat spiral upwards from your navel, your legs beginning to tremble.
You held onto his head as a choked sound escaped you. You gushed on his tongue as you came, a few more erratic drags of your hips to fully ride it out. Your cunt clenched around nothing, achingly empty, but not for much longer. You were still dazed when he decided to take over control, grabbing you by the hips and turning you around to bend you over the couch. 
One of his hands pressed your head against the mattress, keeping your hips hiked up. You leaned into his touch as you felt him palming the swell of your ass, making you squeal a little as he bit the supple flesh. He teased the entrance of your cunt with the tips of his fingers, humming pensively.
“Seems like you’re more than ready for me…” he purred, a teasing edge to his tone. “Shall we try it out? Hmm?”
You could only nod desperately, hips wiggling as he pulled back to situate himself behind you. He dragged the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick, and lined himself up with your entrance.
“Nice and slow,” he said, pushing inside. “That’s it. Oh, you see how you’ve got me? How I’m aching for you?”
You gripped the cushion under you, nearly overwhelmed by the delicious stretch that bordered between pain and pleasure. He felt impossibly deep at that angle, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
“Gods,” you mewled, voice tight. “You’re so big.”
He chuckled, the sound melting into a low groan as he kneaded your ass with his hands greedily, spreading you to get a better look at his cock sliding inside your cunt. “And yet you’re taking me perfectly well.”
He was in no rush at first, keeping his thrusts shallow until you grew more accustomed to him, enjoying the velvety warmth that enveloped him. You pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts, his grip on them tightening. He was trying hard to stave off his growing pleasure, but you felt so good that he knew he wouldn’t last too long. He murmured praises as the snap of his hips became faster, obeying your pleas to go harder.
“Give me another one,” he pleaded in return, leaning more of his weight on you, pinning you down. “I want to feel you properly this time.”
You didn’t have much choice but to take it as he pounded into you, rough, feral noises escaping him every time he bottomed out inside of you. Your teeth sank into your forearm as you came apart a second time, dark stars dancing across your vision. 
He husked an encouraging ‘there we go, there’s a good girl’ close to your ear as he felt you clenching around him, pulling him along into oblivion. He stayed buried to the hilt on his last stuttering thrust, his grip on your hips bruising as he filled you with his spend.
His hand rested on the back of your neck like a mark of ownership, his cock twitching once more at the imagery. But you both needed to recover your strength first, and so he collapsed on the couch as you rolled over onto your side.
You looked at each other for a moment, sharing a soft, exhilarated laugh. He pulled you closer, one arm draped over your waist. In any other instance, with anyone else, this sort of intimacy with a complete stranger would seem off. But there was something about him that made it feel almost natural, and therefore you welcomed it.
“Who ravaged who, in the end?” You joked, making him chuckle once more.
“Let’s call it a tie for now,” he said, fingers tracing your back. “After all, we still have plenty of time to decide who the real victor is.”
You huffed, tracing his lips with your thumb. “Something tells me you think it’s going to be you.”
“Well, if there’s one thing you should know about me,” he said, nipping at your thumb. “It’s that I don’t like to lose.”
“Oh, is that so?” You countered, pushing him onto his back and grinning like the cat that got the cream. “As it happens, neither do I.”
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retrievablememories ¡ 1 year ago
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cherry bomb | jungkook (m)
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pairing: jungkook x fem reader
summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.
genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au
word count: 7.1k
warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!
a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings
sources for the fic dividers: one | two
link to part 2
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CHERRY BOMB
don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.
virgins get in free!
THIS FRIDAY
NOV 3, 20XX
[address here]
"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"
"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."
camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."
"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”
“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”
“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."
"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.
"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."
your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.
she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”
"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."
camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."
you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."
--
FRIDAY, NOV 3
taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.
the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.
the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.
you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.
"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.
"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."
"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."
well, you won't argue that.
you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.
you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.
"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.
you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.
"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"
the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.
"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.
jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"
"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.
"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"
"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.
jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."
unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.
but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.
he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.
"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.
knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.
“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.
jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.
jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.
“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.
he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.
you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.
"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”
jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.
jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.
“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”
with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.
he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”
you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.
as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.
jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.
your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”
you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.
taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.
the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.
the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.
the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.
jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”
“wh-what?”
“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”
it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.
you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.
when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.
“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”
jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”
you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.
then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.
having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.
“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.
jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”
jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.
“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”
this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.
jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.
after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.
…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.
“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.
but now’s not the time to get delusional.
“no. i want more.”
jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."
“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.
you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.
you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.
you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.
“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.
“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.
you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”
sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”
he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.
his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.
“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.
“no, i—let’s go all the way.”
jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”
when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.
“yeah,” you say breathlessly.
it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.
“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.
“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”
jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”
he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.
your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”
your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”
you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.
“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.
“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.
"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.
his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.
his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.
“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.
jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.
jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.
you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"
"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"
you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.
"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.
"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.
jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.
the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…
the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.
the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.
to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.
you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.
the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.
a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.
you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.
you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.
thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.
he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.
when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.
"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."
"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.
"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"
"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."
“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"
unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.
sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.
you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.
“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.
the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.
the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”
“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.
“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.
you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.
for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.
you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”
“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”
“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.
there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.
“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.
after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.
“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.
“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”
nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”
changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”
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notreallythatlost ¡ 2 months ago
Text
I BLEED THE SAME
➴ annatar/sauron x female!elf!reader
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PART ONE
summary: after halbrand returns to eregion, he takes on a new form. and you feel drawn to it as much as to the darkness inside of him.
warnings: 18+, MDNI, angst, unprotected sex, p in v, slight biting, fluff means sauron is in love (can that even be possible??)
word count: 2k
author’s note: this is part 2 of ‘if you bled’. please read it first, before you continue. maybe this one is little bit of a mess but god, love me a soft sauron. 😫 i hope you enjoy it and don’t forget how i much i appreciate your likes and reblogs — it means so much to me. xx
inspired by: this song
THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST
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After Halbrand disappeared, he did not return but you often wished, he would.
Sometimes you even believed, that you could see him come around a corner out of a sudden, until you realized it is just one of the other elves.
A few days later, Galadriel and Elrond left to return back to Lindon with the rings. They tried to convince you to come with them, but you knew you didn't belong there anymore. So you stayed in Eregion while you waited for Halbrand to return, just like he promised you.
The weeks went by and with each passing day you lost more hope of seeing him again. And with your hope, his promises also began to vanish.
Until, one day, Mirdania rushes into the great forge and joins Celebrimbor's side. Even though their voices are lowered, you try to understand some of what she is saying to the Lord of Eregion. Then, when she mentions a messenger from the Southlands, the hammer you hold falls from your hands in shock as you take a sharp breath.
This can’t be possible.
All eyes are suddenly on you, but you don’t care, just like you don’t care about the hammer that is still lying on the ground. You grab the skirt of your dress and run, ignoring Celebrimbor's call. Your path leads you out of the forge, into the yard and to the gate.
And there you see him standing. The man you had been waiting for all this time. The man who had finally kept his promise and returned to you.
He has his back to you and you let your gaze slide over it. There is a wound on his right shoulder and your heart instantly clenches in your chest. Wherever he had been, he had been in pain, you can feel it.
As if he can hear your thoughts, Halbrand turns around and your eyes meet. For a moment, time stands still and you see the hint of a smile on his face.
You return it as best you can, but you sense that something is wrong. Not a second later, Mirdania walks past you towards Halbrand. “My lord, I must ask you to leave,” she says and glances over her shoulder at you shortly.
Halbrand turns his gaze to the elf and puts on a charming smile. “Why do you want me to leave? I've only just arrived”, he answers and smiles at Mirdania, making the butterflies in your stomach swirl around and you lower your gaze.
“I'm not asking you to leave, the Lord of Eregion is. He has no interest in negotiating with you,” the elf replies before turning away and walking towards you. Her gaze is on you, then she grabs your wrist and pulls you with her.
“Wait, I-” you begin, but Mirdania interrupts you. “Lord Celebrimbor says we can't trust him. None of us should get involved with him. Not even you.” Although her voice is tense, you can't help but let out a laugh. “You can't be serious. I know who I can get involved with and with whom not,” you try to defend yourself, but she just pulls you further away from him.
“Lady Galadriel says otherwise,” she replies and you freeze. “What does Galadriel have to do with this?” you ask with a slightly raised voice. For a moment Mirdania just looks at you, then she leads you back into the forge and out of Halbrand's reach.
You have no way of returning to Halbrand for the rest of the day. But you know that he is waiting. Even if not just for you. When it starts to rain in the evening and Halbrand is still standing in the yard, waiting, Lord Celebrimbor finally decides to go to him himself.
Some time pass and as he returns with Halbrand close behind him, the forge is completely empty — except you. Both of them are soaked and you are about to ask if you can bring them anything, but Celebrimbor silences you with a wave of his hand. “You have done enough. You can go,” he says, leaving you no chance to protest.
Your gaze falls on Halbrand, who is looking at you with a gentle expression in his eyes. He gives you a slight, barely noticeable nod and you turn away to go to your chamber.
You lie on your bed for a while and stare at the ceiling, your thoughts swirling wildly. There is so much you wanted to know, so many questions and only one person who knows the answers. And you hope that you would get it soon.
At some point you must have fallen asleep, because a gentle touch on your face wakes you. It takes a moment until you can think clearly again and you recognize a person sitting on the edge of your bed. You immediately sit up and slide away from the figure.
“Don't be afraid,” his words sound through the darkness and you start to relax. “Halbrand?” you whisper and he nods slowly. “But now, call me Annatar“, his voice is low as he answers making you swallow hard.
Annatar raises his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is so familiar that you can't resist any longer and lean into it while you close your eyes slightly.
Suddenly the fire in the fireplace lights up and fills the room with a warm light.
After a few seconds, your gaze finds his and you can't help but examine his new form. He examines you just as intensely, as if he's waiting for a reaction.
But everything you could do is raising your hand and taking one of the blonde strands of his new hair between your fingers. You must have been silent for a little too long, because he puts his fingers around your wrist and looks you intently in the eyes. “You don't seem particularly impressed,” he says with a raised eyebrow, but you shake your head.
“No, it's not that. It's just... it’s new,” you admit, making him smile. “And I thought you were asking me to take on Halbrand's face again,” he rests his other hand on your thigh and you lean a little closer to him.
“Well, even though I think a beard suits you so much better, this face is just as fine,” you say with a smile and look him in his now deep blue eyes. But then you remember that he had been in hurt and in pain not so long ago and let your gaze fall down.
Annatar, who seems to have sensed the sudden change in your expression, frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Tell me, what happened to you? Why did it take you so long to come back?” you ask, but Annatar just smiles. “Is this your way of telling me that you’ve missed me?” he asks with a hint of amusement and you snort quietly, but can’t help but smile.
Your fingertips glide gently over his cheek, and instead of the stubble you can feel his soft skin there. Even though he looks completely different now, you can feel that it is him.
“You are Sauron,” you suddenly say out loud for the first time before looking him in the eyes again. He returns your gaze, then nods. “But that doesn't seem to bother you,” he says carefully.
“No... even though it should. I should hate you for everything you've done. But I can't. I could never,” you whisper and feel him caressing your thigh with his thumb.
“She tried to convince you not to trust me,” Annatar says suddenly, thoughtful, and now you frown. “Galadriel...,” he adds, sensing your confusion.
You nod and let out a strained laugh. “Of course she did… what do you think? You deceived her. Like all of us. But she still doesn't have the right to decide who I give my heart to,” you say quietly and gasp softly as Annatar's fingers press tightly into the skin of your thigh.
“You should be careful who you give it to. Hearts are incredibly precious,” he whispers, leaning closer to you. You feel his breath brush over your lips and open them slightly, then his mouth is on yours.
Hot and demanding, as if he had been waiting for centuries to kiss you.
You can't help but moan, a mixture of desperation and longing as you bury your hands in his hair. Oh, how you already love these long strands.
His hands find their way to your hips, where he grabs you and pulls you closer to his body. A growl escapes from his lips, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.
Breathing heavily, he pulls away from you again and presses his forehead against yours. “If we don't stop right now, I don't know how much longer I can hold back,” he says in a rough voice and you tremble. Your hands are still in his hair and you press yourself a little closer against him. “What if I don't want you to hold back?” you breathe against his lips.
And with that you unleash a storm.
Suddenly he is on top of you and presses your back into the mattress. His hands are all over your body, touching, pulling and caressing while you gasp for air.
Seconds later he starts to undress you, his hands touching every little part of your body before you get him out of his garments. They land on the floor just like your dress and he pulls you closer again.
All you can feel is Annatar's skin against yours, his fingertips wandering over your shoulders and his hard cock between your bodies as you straddle his lap.
He touches you as if you could crumble to dust before his eyes at any moment, and no matter how deeply you would like to feel him inside you right now, you can’t help but enjoy the feeling of his closeness and the desire that takes your breath away.
Finally, his hands move under your thighs and you look into his eyes as you position yourself above him. Your gazes are locked as you sink down onto him, but you had to close your eyes. It takes your breath away and you need a moment to get used to his size. Then you start to move and you moan with pleasure. Nothing has ever felt so good.
You press your forehead against his, as you pant heavily with one of your hands buried in his hair, the other in the bedsheets clawing onto them.
“Let me make you my queen,” he blurts out as you continue to move. You both have to groan before you realize what he just said. “What?” you gasp and pause. He takes advantage of this moment, puts his arm around your waist and turns you so that you are lying under him again.
He's still deep inside you and he moves his hips briefly to make it clear to you. “Become my queen,” he repeats and lowers his head to your breasts. He gently sucks on your nipple, moving slowly as if he's savoring every second of it.
“But I-” you stop and pant as he bites the skin beneath your breasts and look down at him. “Become my wife and I will lay all of Middle Earth at your feet. I will destroy anyone who does not submit to you — to us,” he continues and if you weren't so high on your feelings right now, you would have thought that this must be a joke.
You're just about to say something again when he suddenly speeds up his pace again. He thrusts deep into you, making your eyes roll back in your head. Your breathing gets heavier and your moans get louder until you hear his voice in your ear.
“Let go for me, my queen” Annatar ducks his fingers in your skin as your climax roll over you. You cry into his mouth, burying your fingers in his hair as if he was the only thing you could hold on to.
His breath is still on your ear as he moans softly, finding his own release and you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. Panting heavily, he places a soft kiss on your neck and breathes in your scent. Then he falls onto the sheets next to you and pulls you in his arms.
Lost in your thoughts, you draw small circles on his bare chest until he takes your hand in his, catching your attention. “I meant it. Become my wife and we will heal Middle Earth together,” he whispers and raises his other hand closed in front of your face before opening it.
In his palm lies one of the three elven rings.
For a moment you are too stunned to speak, until you find your voice again.
“Where… did you get it? Galadriel took them all with her,” you whisper and take the ring carefully in between your thumb and index finger.
“Does it matter?” he asks, stroking the back of your free hand with his thumb. “Is that a yes?” he asks, looking down at you expectantly.
You don't know what to say. But you know what your heart is telling you. And even though it was a betrayal of those you love and your entire kind, you know it's the right thing to do.
Because the darkness had called for you for your whole life.
“Yes...” you breathe and raise your gaze to meet his eyes again. There's a smile on Sauron's face as he takes the ring from your hand and gently slides it onto your finger.
“Then take this ring as my promise. I will give you the world and bring every being to its knees so that they will worship my queen.” With that, he leans forward and kisses the silver ring on your finger. And while you watch him, you know that one thing is certain.
This is all you've ever wanted.
And he is all you ever desired.
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2024 notreallythatlost
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justawritterwithideas ¡ 2 years ago
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law in pink | s.r
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♡ next part ♡
summary: when the BAU needs an extra helping hand, Washington decides to send the best of the best, but what they didn't expect was to see... pink.
warnings: a bit of stereotypes, beyond that a bit of comedy and fluff. there may be mistakes in writing because I wrote it too fast :(
this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader
words: 1,649 words.
a/n: elle woods from legally blonde comes to my mind constantly because is one of my favorite movies, so I wanted to make a mix called "ssa elle woods"; I hope you like it and you can understand the idea of reader as elle woods, I also hope I didn't portray it wrong and that it will be misunderstood T T
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The BAU needed a hand with the rising crime wave, so, straight from Washington they sent the best of the best from their office.
And of course Penelope had to investigate.
According to her research, you had graduated from Harvard with honors and had given the honorary alumni speech at your class graduation. In addition, you were a part-time Harvard professor of Political Theory during the fall and part of a prolific group of researchers in your Washington office, which had the highest rate of successfully resolved cases in the last 5 years.
In addition, you had achieved on your LSAT a score of 179 out of 180 points.
Something inside Penelope reminded her a little of her friend, Spencer Reid, in you.
But what she didn't expect to see when she looked you up on the interwebs was the fashionista and family friendly life you had. The way your apartment was decorated with a pretty pink aesthetic, your outfits videos that reached millions of views and your day to day routines were the mantra of many girls, being all perfectly edited.
With that and more, anyone would think that your job was not to be a federal agent, but an influencer.
Penelope was already smelling perfume from her computer, and that made her more than eager to meet you.
It was seeing one just like her in front of her screen.
You were the perfect candidate to be her new best friend.
The clacking of your heels and the smell of your Chanel perfume filled the entire BAU office, causing the complicit glances of all the workers who were there.
"Have you seen Barbie yet?" "Is the model missing?" "What about her? Maybe she's a lost intern. First-timer problems."
Everyone was making comments you'd heard more than once in some police office, maybe it was the way you dressed didn't go along with the aesthetic they had or how feminine your attire might be, but that's who you were and for a couple of comments about your appearance and the stereotype they had they weren't going to sour your day.
"Excuse me, are you looking for someone?"
You turned to see a tall, dark man, who was watching your outfit from last season's Prada fit you to perfection.
"Oh! Finally someone nice." You commented with a smile. "Yes, I'm looking for Agent Aaron Hotchner."
"He's my boss, would you like help finding his office? I can help you."
"That would be great, thank you very much..."
"Agent Morgan, Derek Morgan."
"It's a pleasure, Agent Derek. I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."
You didn't like to introduce yourself officially as an agent, it made you look rather intimidating if you did, and that was what you didn't want.
It wasn't a long walk to the wooden door which was adorned by a plaque with the name of the person you were looking for.
"This is it, you come for a case? Any family members involved?"
"No, I'm coming to help. Thank you very much, by the way."
You gave him one last smile before knocking on the door, hearing a "pass" from inside.
"Who was the girl you were escorting, Derek?" Emily watched the man reach them, peering curiously inside Hotch's office.
"Her name is Y/N, she said she was coming to help, but... I don't know, she doesn't look like someone coming to help, maybe she's a witness."
Spencer's eyes scanned the situation, trying to conclude who the mystery woman inside his boss's office was about, but coming up with nothing on the spot. Like his friends, they were all searching for an answer to the abiding doubt in his head.
Who exactly was that girl and why had she said that? She didn't seem like a person whose job was an office job, but not one that was very risky either.
But before they could say anything, Aaron came out of the office with his ever-serious face.
"Meeting in 5" was the only thing he announced, so the group took heed and went to the place.
Once inside the office, Penelope found herself with her dear friends, who were trying to figure out the causes of the recent meeting.
"You don't know Pen either, do you?" J.J. was the first to speak.
"No idea, Hotch just asked me to be here."
"Just like everyone else." Rossi replied, settling around the round table with his coffee cup.
The conversation didn't last long when Hotch entered the boardroom.
"Good. I know there's no case yet or apparent reason to get them together first thing." Hotch began. "But as you may know, the last couple of months have seen an increase in crime for the BAU, which is exactly why we've been given extra funding to bring an extra agent onto the team."
Sounds of excitement came from everyone's mouths.
"So I've been contacting old colleagues, who recommended the best of the best. So they've transferred an agent from Washington to help us."
"Boy, they must be desperate." Derek's comment drew a few chuckles.
"I'd like to introduce you to the SSA, Y/N Woods."
Everyone's countenance changed to one of surprise when they saw you walk in, smiling in the friendliest way possible.
The same girl who looked like a model fresh off a runway was the newest member of the BAU.
"It's nice to meet you all, I hope we can work well together." You set your Prada bag to the side, being able to scan each of the members quickly.
"Woods, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, dr. Spencer Reid and our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."
"Hey, I know you." You commented in the direction of Garcia, who was smiling politely. "You were the girl who commented on my recipe for the vegetarian tacos."
"Yes! They looked exquisite."
"Thank you very much, I hope they were helpful. We need to be a little more conscientious with our four-legged friends."
Spencer didn't know if he was dazzled by the whiteness of your teeth or the warm way you had entered into trust with Penelope with a simple recipe.
"Woods, Garcia. You'll have time to talk."
"I'm sorry, sir." They both replied at the same time.
"Fine, I'll go prepare the case, Garcia come with me."
They both walked out of the meeting room, leaving you alone with the rest of your new group of colleagues.
"I didn't know you were an agent." Derek was the first to break the silence surrounding them, causing you to turn in his direction.
"I didn't mean to mention it, I'm not a person who usually blurts it out just like that on the first interaction. You never know what kind of person a stranger is." You commented before you could look at him again. "No offense."
"No problem."
"From Washington, right?" Your gaze went to the blonde, who was watching from her position with a warm smile.
"That's right, even though I'm from California but I moved to Massachusetts after getting into Harvard, and then to Washington when I got an opening in the federal office there. So I'm from here, there and over there, but I'll always be a California gurl." A chuckle came out of your mouth after making a reference to the Katy Perry song, bringing your hands to your sides.
"Harvard? What did you study?" Spencer looked more and more interested.
"Law." You commented offhandedly. "I actually studied Fashion Merchandising at UCLA with a 4.0 GPA. But I wanted to prove myself and decided to get into Harvard Law."
"Switching from Fashion Merchandising at UCLA to Harvard Law is a big jump, how much did you get on your entrance exam?" Rossi asked.
"179."
Everyone's surprised face made an impression on you.
"What, like it's hard?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, before you remembered what you were holding as a "peace offering". "By the way, I made cookies yesterday for being the first day and making a good impression." Your hands went to your bag, pulling out a heart-shaped tupperware. "They're lavender and butter, it's a recipe I read on a fairly well known blog forum, they say Paris Hilton gets her recipes from there."
You held out the tupper to each of them to take out a cookie, leaving it on the table in case they liked to take out more.
"If they like more, just pull out. There's enough for everyone." A little smile tugged at your mouth. But before you heard any response from either person, the catchy ringtone of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" interrupted any culinary criticism. "Excuse me..." Your hand went for your phone, which didn't surprise others by being pink, and you left the room letting out a "Woods" as you answered.
"This is new." Derek said.
"And delicious." Emily took another bite of her cookie.
"She's different than what we usually know." Rossi looked at the rest, taking a second cookie out of the tupper. "But I don't mind at all, in fact, I think new always comes in good."
"True, it's always good to have someone new and with a different vibe."
The group turned to look at Reid, who was holding the cookie with his right hand. The young man wasn't usually one to blurt out a comment, just like that, least of all referring to a girl.
"Oh kid, you find her attractive." Derek was the first to smile in amusement.
"What, no." The voice in a higher pitched tone than normal was what gave Spencer away.
"Spencer likes Y/N." J.J annoyed, walking out of the office laughing along with Emily.
"That's not true!"
"See ya, lover boy." Derek commented along with Rossi, who was gently patting his shoulder with a knowing smile.
And so it was that Spencer was left in the meeting room with his cheeks as pink as his new co-worker's heels.
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♡ next part ♡
If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
a lot of love, alme. ❀
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thesilmarillionblog ¡ 7 months ago
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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u
Part: 8
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture
Word Count: 4674
A/N: English is not my first language.
* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.
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You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.
He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”
Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.
You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.
You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”
“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.
“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”
Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”
Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”
“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”
“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”
“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”
You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.
Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”
“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”
Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.
“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”
“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.
He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.
Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”
Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.
Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.
Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.
“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”
Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.
None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.
Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”
That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.
Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”
You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.
“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”
He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”
“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”
“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”
“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”
Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”
You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”
Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.
You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.
“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”
Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”
“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”
“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”
Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.
You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.
You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.
You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.
“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”
You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”
“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.
You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.
“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”
Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”
Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.
Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”
“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”
You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.
“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.
You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”
“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”
“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”
“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."
He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.
“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.
“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”
“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”
You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.
It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.
You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.
“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.
Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.
Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.
“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.
“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”
“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”
“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.
“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.
“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”
You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.
Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”
Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”
The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”
Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”
Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”
You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”
Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”
She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”
“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.
Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.
With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”
Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.
Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.
“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”
“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”
“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal. 
Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.
Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”
“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.
Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”
“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.
When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.
“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”
Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.
“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”
Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.
Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.
Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.
Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.
“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”
“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”
You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”
He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.
“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”
Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”
You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.
Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”
Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”
Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.
“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.
With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”
But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.
He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”
Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.
You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.
Next Chapter
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-
Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynadee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner
Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-
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candysparks ¡ 12 days ago
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Imagine Demon! Reader x Neglected! Wayne x Neglectful! Batfam
[This is the prologue for what might be a series. Also this does involve a Wayne Oc. This is NOT proof read, so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes I make] There is another part for this Imagine if you wanted to check that out as well! Just click [This]
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[Warnings for Death, cult talk, blood sacrifices and all that jazz, child neglect, demon stuff]
So basically what I'm thinking of at the moment is Neglected! Wayne is Bruce's bio kid from some one off fling. He fools around and has a one night stand with this really pretty woman and she ends up pregnant, but doesn't tell him. Months go by and she's the proud mother of one healthy, rambunctious, baby who she lovingly names Percy.
But wait! Since she's a prominent business woman so she has to have a rival who wants her to fail. This rival won't get a name, but they use her pregnancy against her by claiming she's been sleeping around so her reputation takes a slight turn. This, of course, isn't enough to bring her reputation or her business down so the rival takes a step up.
They get in contact with some shady people who start messing up her business. Just some light vandalism to ward off people from working with her. One night they break into the building and smash some stuff, just to get her scared, but it ends up going so wrong.
You see, it was a long day at work and she was just swamped with paperwork so she had to stay late. Of course Percy, freshly aged 10, was working on some homework right next to her because he loves his mother and can't stand being part from her more than necessary.
[And when I say Percy loves her, I mean he admires her the most in the whole world. If anyone where to ask who his hero was he wouldn't say Batman, or Superman, and he might say Wonder Woman if he gave it some more thought, but to him? His first instinct would to say "My mom!" much to her delight.]
But now you might be thinking, where does Demon! Reader come into this whole thing? Well as it would turn out, one of the people who broke in was a paranoid person with a trigger happy finger, and the other was ragging cultist who was just looking for a reason to try out this new cursed tomb he got.
Percy decides he needs to get up and stretch, get his legs moving. It's like his mother always said 'Sitting in one spot for too long leads to a slumped mind, and a curved back' so it was better for him to get up and move his legs once in awhile.
But what's this? The paranoid robber happens to turn the corner just as Percy opens the door and BAM! Percy's mother, who was standing right behind him, falls to the floor and starts bleeding out. Percy freaks out and tries to put pressure on the wound, just like those books he liked to read said to do.
Her blood is everywhere, its all over his hands, his shirt, oh god it's all over him and it wont stop. The robber is also freaking out. He just shot this woman and her child was right there, he felt so so bad about it all.
And then the other one turns the corner and gets a good look at what's happening. So he pulls out his phone and makes a few calls before turning to his partner who was still freaking out, leaving Percy to hear his mothers final words before she goes limp.
The cultist decides 'Yo this is a great time to test out this blood sacrifice page in this wicked old tomb!' and knocks Percy out and drags away his mother. Of course he can't just leave Percy behind, no that would cause unwanted issues because Percy is now a witness, though the robbers forget about the security cameras entirely.
So they shove the two of them in their get away van and instead of driving back to their boss they end up at an unused warehouse. The cultist one gets right to work, drawing out this huge elaborate circle with the mothers blood. Of course he lights some candles, but to make it all the worse he uses drops of Percy's blood instead of his even thought it's what the book says not to do.
The circle glows red and out pops Demon! Reader. Of course this is also the moment Percy wakes up and is rightfully horrified to know he's bleeding from his hand, and Percy is a smart kid so he can put two and two together. He knows his blood was used along with his mothers. Tears are falling from his eyes now because he can't seem to wrap his mind around everything fast enough.
This gets Demon! Reader's attention and so they end up shoving past the two robbers and sits in front of Percy. Demon! Reader is simply fascinated with this crying child. It's not every day a demon sees a living child, especially one that's so full of life and is currently crying.
Doesn't help that Demon! Reader can feel the blood bond between them. Demon! Reader can't hurt Percy, even if they wanted to, due to the fact that the cultist used Percy's blood in the summoning. Just demon things, you know?
This of course, pissed the cultist off and so he starts shouting. Though the shouting and insults don't really bother Demon! Reader, they can tell it's bothering Percy. So they do what they always do and simply devours the cultist.
Buuut that freaks out the other robber so he tries to shoot at Demon! Reader but that obviously doesn't work. So Demon! Reader eats him too! Percy has long since passed out due to the shock of it all, so Demon! Reader changes into the form of a cat and snuggles right up to him.
Demon! Reader can tell they're going to enjoy being tied to this human child. They've already taken it upon themselves to raise them into a strong and healthy person.
[Just gonna flash forward real quick and list out some stuff that happens.]
Percy gets discovered all alone in the warehouse and sent to the cops cause he's covered in blood. Demon! Reader gets to go along because Percy refuses to let go of them and they're still in cat form. Blah blah Percy gets sent to an orphanage who doesn't really care about him but notices the cat that's stuck to him like glue and that his eyes are very similar to Bruce Wayne. They do a blood test and gets shocked that he is a Wayne and then they ship him off to the Wayne Manor.
Though at this point in time Bruce is too busy with mourning the loss of Jason to properly take care of, or even look at, Percy. Then Tim comes along and he get's too busy with bat stuff, and then so does everyone else. Dick doesn't pay attention to them either cause he's always in Blßdhaven and all that jazz. But that's okay cause Percy has Demon! Reader and Alfred to look after him.
Then comes Damian and it all goes to shit from there. Damian, being Damian, pulls a sword on Percy to try and fight him for the title of blood child or whatever. Percy gets cut, right along his left hand [his right hand is the one with a cut from the summoning] and starts to panic because he knows what Demon! Reader would want to do in revenge.
So Percy runs off to his room and does everything he can to keep Demon! Reader from flipping the fuck out and throwing hands with a literal child. But that only makes Damian think less of Percy, seeing him as a coward who only runs away instead of fighting back like a "true" Wayne.
Percy is at least 17 at this point, so he decides to throw caution to the wind and GTFO, much to Demon! Reader's delight. But what's this? Everyone is taking an interest in this forgotten Wayne and don't want him to go.
But who is this stray cat that keeps following him around the manor? And his weird/feral friend who constantly wears a red headband that has demon horns and has a bad habit of biting people? No, no, this simply won't do, Percy needs to make new friends, better friends.
Or better yet, forget the friends, Percy needs to stay with his "Family" and not run off into the big scary world all alone. Moving? Why would Percy move when he has a home at the Wayne Manor?
Cue Demon! Reader flipping their shit and trying to convince Percy to let them kill get rid off his annoying "family" so they can finally travel the world like they'd planned.
[And that's all I can think of at the moment. But just to clear up some stuff, Demon! Reader adores Percy like their own child. And due to Demon customs, Demon! Reader has taught Percy all about being a demon. From how to fight his battles with his own nails and teeth to even manors and habits of demon kind. In this AU Demons are very clingy and affectionate with their family, similar but also different dynamics compared to a wolf or a cat pack. The Strong protect the weak and all that jazz, and in Demon! Reader's eyes Percy is weak but has potential to be strong. So Demon! Reader mother cat's him, picking him up by his 'scruff' when they feel he's in danger, or that he's been away from them for too long.] [If you have any questions about this au, or if you wanna request some more lore/character stuff, my ask box is open!]
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arienotari ¡ 1 year ago
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Drowning
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Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.
Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader
Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying
Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.
Word Count: 3330
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I’ve never liked swimming.
People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 
Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 
It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 
“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 
I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 
“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 
Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 
Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 
“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 
I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 
“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.
“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 
His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 
“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 
He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 
“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 
After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 
“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 
“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 
“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.
And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 
“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 
“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 
“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 
I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 
“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.
“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 
“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 
I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 
“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 
“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 
“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 
I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 
“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 
One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 
“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 
I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 
“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 
I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 
“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 
“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  
He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 
“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 
His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 
“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.
“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 
We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 
“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 
I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 
“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 
“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 
We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 
1K notes ¡ View notes
lowkeyerror ¡ 6 months ago
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The Family Business Ch. 15
WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Ch. Notes: Angst, vomit, mentions of phsyical abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death
Summary: After effectively taking care of the Fisk problem, you struggle with the moral reprocussions of that action, while also trying to deal with the truth behind your mother’s death.
An: A little quicker update than last time. Again idk when the next update will be, but just know it's coming. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter it's a soft one.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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Your mind can’t seem to latch on to any singular thought. Instead they all run together in a way that makes you wish you couldn’t think at all. You’re to aware of what you’ve done. You can feel the blood, his blood, all over you. His words are bouncing off the walls in your mind. Your legs are unstable and everything feels like its too much.
You don’t get much of a say as your unsteady legs buckle under you, forcing you to your knees. You shake your head left to right as you feel the bile rise in your throat. Puking is the last thing you want to do, and the fear of vomiting makes tears flow down your face.
It's more than that fear. It’s everything that Wilson said before you blew his brains out. He was right, you weren’t ever a Maximoff. Just some fragile kid from a broken home, that wanted to prove themselves no matter what the cost. You couldn’t even be upset at the family, they hadn’t forced you into this lifestyle. This is simply the path you chose to feel like one of them.
You hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, you try to find the energy to get to your feet, but fail.
“ Y/n,” her voice makes you feel sick.
You can’t fight it anymore as the contents of your stomach begin to spill out. Wanda is by your side instantly. On of her hands moves your hair out of the way, while the other rubs soothing circles on your back.
Once it was over your breathing is heavy. Your chest heaves up and down, while your hands rest on your thighs.
“Was it true?” is the first thing you say to her.
“Y/n-" you can tell she was trying to reason with you with, to have you drop this for now.
You put distance between the two of you, turning to see her face, “Did you have my mother killed?”
Wanda takes in a large breath, “She was abusing you, every moment she had you. Emotionally torturing you with the death of your brother and physically putting her hands on you. That day when you came over and I patched you up, Pietro told us everything that he knew she did to you. We all agreed, that we wouldn’t let her near you again.”
You don’t know why you felt so bitter about it, but you did, “Killing her was your only option?”
Wanda shakes her head, “No, it wasn’t. We were going to just keep you away from her, but Pietro said the next few days she came to the school looking for you. She threatened him, and followed him to our house, that’s when Papa decided to put an end to it.”
“And my father?”
The woman sighs, “Once we told him who we were, he thought it was best for him to not be involved. He cared for you and loved you tremendously, but he was scared of our family.”
At the end of the day your mother was the cause of an abundance of your trauma and you couldn’t blame your father for not wanting to be involved in a crime syndicate. However, your anger was pointed at the Maximoff’s for keeping this from you for so long.
“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”
Wanda’s eyes meet yours desperately, “When you were younger, we thought it was inappropriate to share that with you. You were different back then and we didn’t know how you would react. When I left, I figured that eventually they would tell you. When I got back and they hadn’t I was upset. I wanted to tell you, but there’s been so much going on, Y/n believe me. When you asked in car, and I told you to trust me, I was trying to think of the right time. I just- I’m sorry."
As much as you want to be mad at her you can’t. She’s right, Wanda had been gone for over 5 years, how could she have known that they hadn’t told you. As soon as she came back there was basically a turf war going on.
“ I wasn’t supposed to shoot him,” your eyes are blank as they look into hers.
Wanda’s eyes soften, “I know little krolik.”
You shake your head, “But he brought up Lucas and I- he dared me to, so I did. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my fault.”
You were spiraling quickly. Though you were covered in blood and had just thrown up, Wanda wasted no time wrapping her arms around you.
“I know baby,” she squeezes you tight.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to kill him,” you sob into the woman.
She scoops you up into her arms, “We’re going home.”
“But, what about-”
Wanda silences you, “Don’t worry about it. They will handle everything else ok, just be here with me.”
You calm for a moment before you remember that Natasha got shot because of your recklessness. You start apologizing again, “I’m sorry, Natasha got hurt because I wasn’t thinking enough. I was being stupid, I should have done better. I should’ve-”
“She’s going to be fine, malyshka. She's been through worse,” Wanda gets you into the car and begins driving home.
By the time you get home, you’ve fallen asleep. Before Wanda gets out of the car she gets a phone call from her wife.
“How is she ?” Are the first words out of Natasha’s mouth.
Wanda has to stop herself from crying as she looks at your current state, “She’s not well, I’m doing my best, but I’m scared.”
“You took her home?”
Wanda nods though the woman can’t see her, “ We just pulled up. She fell asleep on the way, but she might wake up when I try to clean her off. She was throwing up when I found her. She’s worried about you, I’m worried about you.”
Natasha’s voice takes a softer tone, “I’m ok detka. The bullet is out, my arm is patched.”
“Papa and Pietro?”
“We called in Bucky, we’re trying to get a room set up at your parents house that will be suited for your father to do the rest of his recovery there. Pietro, he’s shaken up, worried about you and Y/n.”
Wanda takes in the information, “Natalia, I know I brought you out here to be apart of this with me, but I don’t know if I want this lifestyle anymore.”
As Wanda looks at you, she can see the cons of this life outweighing the pros. You’d already had a rough life before the Maximoff’s took you in, and now they’ve put you in this position where things seem to be just as bad if not worse.
Natasha takes a pause, “We’ll talk about this more when I get home and when Y/n is feeling better ok? I don’t want to make any decisions without her involvement.”
Wanda agrees, “You’re right, hurry back to me moya lyubov.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I love you.”
“I love you."
Wanda sighs as she glances at you in the passenger seat. For a moment, her head falls into her hands. She wants to breakdown, but she holds it all in. With another deep breath she gets out of the car and carries you up to the room.
Wanda goes to lay you on her bed, but you cling to her.
“Y/n, baby it’s ok,” Wanda attempts to coo you.
“The sheets,” you mumble tiredly against her.
Wanda has tears in her eyes as she smiles softly, “ I don’t care about the sheets.”
You cling to the woman tighter in protest, and she doesn’t want to fight with you. Instead she carries you to the bathroom and sits you on the counter. You lean your back against the wall eyes barely open, but still able to see the woman running water for a shower.
Wanda turns back to you her hands tremble a bit as the grip the end of your blood and vomit covered shirt.
“Sorry, it’s gross,” you mumble.
She shakes her head,” I don’t care. Is it ok if I take this off of you?”
Your eyes open wider to meet hers properly, nodding slowly.
When she removes the shirt, her eyes linger on the scar on your abdomen from the day you left home. Her finger couldn’t help but to glide over the rigged skin.
“It needed a stitch back then, but I didn't want to see you in anymore pain. It probably wouldn't have scarred if I did,” Wanda reveals absent-mindedly.
“It’s my favorite scar, I’m glad I have it,” you find her eyes as you speak.
“Why?”
You look away from her, feeling shy for a moment, “ I remember you letting me rest my head on your shoulder and promising that the family would protect me."
Wanda frowns, “I’m sorry, we didn’t protect you enough.”
You take her hand, “I’m sorry I’m so hard to protect.”
“No, don't do that Y/n. We lied to you, I lied to you for years. Telling you truth wasn’t some Olympic sized task. It’s the least we could've done and it's what you deserved. Our- my carelessness lead you down this unnecessary path of pain, and I’m sorry. I should've done better,” you listen as Wanda berates herself unable to look you in the eyes.
“You weren't here, Wanda.”
“I should’ve been.”
You want to do something to give her comfort but you feel disgusting in your current state. Your eyes dart over to the shower and it's as if to remember why you were in this position to begin with. Wanda sees your movements and takes a small step back from you.
“Do you still need help?”
You think for a long moment, hesitation heavy in the air. Part of you wants to push her away now that you have your bearings a bit more. However a larger part of you wants the woman to help you in the shower
“Yes,” it’s breathy as it leaves your mouth.
Your hands guide hers to the button on your pants. She pulls them down gently. Wanda hesitates at the sight of your underwear. You attempt to hop off of the counter, Wanda’s hands find your hips to better guide you.
It's two swift motions as you remove your underwear. You stand before the redhead bare for the first time in this way. You stare at her waiting for something to happen. She sense the expectancy in your gaze and begins undressing.
Once the last of her clothing hits the floor she takes your hand and leads you to the shower. You enter first and she goes in after. The water against your skin feels good. It cascades from your face down your body washing away the gunk in the process.
Wanda doesn’t make a sound as she begins to wash your body. Her hands light and delicate against your skin. The only objective being getting you clean. Once you’re clean she spins you around and places a kiss on your forehead.
“I don't know how I feel,” you tell her honestly.
She takes a step back from you. You’re quick to grab her wrist and pull her back into you, “I just know that I want you close.”
She reached behind you to turn off the shower. “As long as you want me close, I won’t ever leave you again.”
You rest your head on her chest, her arms enclose around you once again. The sound of her heart beating calms you deeply. You could fall asleep right there.
“Let’s finish getting ready and then we can get in bed,” Wanda rambles against your head.
You nod against her and after a deep breath you both exit the shower. Once you’re dry and dressed for bed, you finally brush your teeth. You climb into the bed, but you’re wide awake.
Peace nowhere to be found as a million questions race through your head.
“I didn’t mean-"
“He deserved it, Y/n. He tried to kill papa, he had you beaten, he shot Natasha, he wasn’t a good man,” Wanda reassures you.
You shake your head, knees pulling closer to your chest, “Lucas is dead because of me.”
“That’s not true lisichka.”
Your eyes are quick to dart over to Natasha but you don’t move. Your gaze falls to her injured arm, and it’s yet another injury due to your carelessness.
“ I sent you in there and-”
“And I’m fine because you saved me. In fact you saved everyone in that room tonight,” Natasha doesn’t hesitate to crouch down beside the bed.
You frown, “No matter how many people I save, I can never go back and save Lucas.”
Natasha looks at Wanda for some kind of insight into who Lucas is to you, what he means to you.
“Lucas was my older brother, he would still be here if I hadn’t been so careless.”
Wanda disputes this, “You were a child, Y/n. Your parents should’ve been watching you.”
“I have this scar on the back of my head from where skull hit the concrete. A constant reminder that he’s not here and I am.”
Natasha takes one of your hands in hers, “ To me, it sounds like you went through something really traumatic as a child. Not just losing your brother, but also almost dying in the process. Going through that without the support of your parents makes it even harder to come to terms with.”
“Natasha’s right, Y/n. You’re a victim in all of this, and going through this alone was never fair to you. You didn't kill your brother, neglect did,” Wanda takes your free hand.
“My mom never stopped blaming me.”
“She should’ve never started. To abuse one child after the loss of another is a cruelty that only a monster is capable of Y/n,” Natasha’s words are a statement.
“But did she deserve to die?” You turn your attention to Wanda.
“How many times did she hit you? How many times did she starve you? How many times did she verbally abuse you? How many scars do you have because of her?” Natasha draws your attention back to her.
“Maybe she didn’t deserve to die, but she didn’t deserve to have that power of you. She didn’t deserve to torment you for the rest of your life. You couldn’t go out without looking over your shoulder, you flinched at every touch, and she had you thinking you were a mistake or a burden. You were just a child,” Wanda’s voice trembles as she speaks.
Natasha takes over again, “A mother doesn’t treat a child in the way that she treated you. That woman barely viewed you as her child, she doesn’t deserve your sympathy even in death.”
Your body begins to shake as the tears cascade down your face. You feel two sets of arms enclose you as you cry. They were right about your mother, she was an awful person. The more you thought about it the harder it was to think about anything good about her. After your brother died, you had no kind memories of your mother left. She was cruel, ruthless, and unforgiving.
After all these years, you never missed her. You hardly thought about her and when you did it was against your will. Her memory has haunted and tortured you since she has been out of your life.
“We have you, Y/n. For as long as you want us to, “ Natasha is gentle as she wipes away your fallen tears.
“We’re going to have to talk about this, with everyone,” you attempt regain your composure .
“We will be by your side, no matter what,” Wanda insists.
“Not just about my mom, but about Kingpin.”
Natasha nods, “Yes, but only when you’re ready. There’s no rush for these talks or conversations. With Dragos awake now, this problem isn’t falling straight onto your shoulders anymore.”
“Our main priority is you. Y/n, for once in our lives I think it’s time that the family business takes a backseat” Wanda adds on.
The idea plays in your mind briefly. A life where the most important thing wasn’t this job. No more missions, no more hacking, and no more danger. The thought would’ve bored you before, but now with Natasha and Wanda by your side, it seemed more desirable.
You nod, “Ok.”
“We love you lisichka,” Natasha gently kisses your forehead.
Wanda follows suit, “More than anything.”
The small smile plays on your lips, “I love you too, the both of you.”
It’s a brief moment as you swiftly place your lips on Wanda’s followed by Natasha’s, before quick passing out from the exhaustion of the day.
“I know that look detka. Everything is going to be alright, I promise,” Natasha says, looking at her wife’s worried expression.
“She deserves better Natasha, I have to do better,” Wanda keeps her own tears at bay.
“You aren't in this alone Wanda. I’m here, lean on me, together we can build something that Y/n truly deserves.”
Natasha interlocks her fingers with Wanda’s, “I love you.”
Wanda kisses the back of her wife’s hand, “I love you too.”
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Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989 @falloutboy-lover
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meo-on-prairie ¡ 1 year ago
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Deserve Better
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Prompt: After a shitty breakup, involving a douchebag of an ex, who makes you realize he never loved you to begin with. You went to your best friends for comfort, but instead of telling you “you deserve better”, they show you the best you deserve. 
Word count: 1786
Tags: FLUFF, a tablespoon of Angst, hurt and comfort, Gojo and Getou being sweetest boys, satosugu established, satorugu x reader not yet, mention of: manipulation and love bombing.
Rambling: This is an extremely self-indulgence fic, heavily inspired by my shitty ex lmao. I just wanna be sandwich between Gojo and Getou to comfort my angry heart :((. This is a mini series, I wanna able to make this series to be compose of a bunch of stand-alone fics that merge together. This is my first time writing after a long while so… 
//////
“He was a pathetic liar!” you shout as soon as Suguru opens the door. Tears are streaming down your faces and you can’t seem to make them stop. The sight of your face full of anger and sorrow quite nearly broke Suguru’s heart. Oh, how he wished he could erase your pain. Not make your pain go away, no, he wanted to erase it from your life completely.
Satoru walks toward the door after hearing the loud commotion, “what did he do this time?” he said knowing exactly who was responsible for your tears. With all honesty, Satoru is only asking for your sake, if he could have it his way, violence is always the answer.
Satoru and Suguru are used to this, it’s been 2 years of this clockwork. Ever Since you start dating your pathetic boyfriend, Anthon, it been a cycle of you venting to them about your relationship problem, them telling you to break up with the fucker, and you “work it out” with the douchebag, who can only tell lies and empty promises, the next day and all is good for about 1 month. It’s the same cycle of them clearly seeing that you are being manipulated, yet unable to do anything. But then again, what can they do? They’re only your friends, nothing more even if they want to be more, and as friends, the only thing they can do is be there for you.
Anthon was your first love, your glasses were not tinted, it was dyed rose-pink. You loved him with everything you got, always there to support him mentally, emotionally, and even sometimes financially. In return, he would love-bomb you with constant, nonstop, overly cheesy affectionate words. He also made a lot of promises to you: of marriage, of spoiling you, of being a better man for you, of being faithful to you; all of which are empty and meaningless in hindsight. They’re so meaningless in fact that it led you to break-up with him 2 weeks ago.
You were tired of his empty words, so you laid down your boundary, you told him you would never want to marry someone who refuses to find a job to support themselves. His answer? “Why can’t you be nicer about these things? Your words cut deep”. Anthon was a man of nothing, he had nothing but his words, and even then he couldn't even keep them. But you loved him, so you put it all aside, all his actions, all his shortcomings, his unwillingness to change for himself; you put it all aside and waited with baited breath, surely, surely…. Surely he’ll do as he said. He never did. 
“Come in first, the night is cold, I don’t want you to get sick” Suguru ushers you through the door and into their apartment. As Suguru guided you toward their living room, Satoru went into the kitchen to grab some tissues, water, and something for you to eat your feelings away. 
As soon as your body touched the soft velvet material of their couch, you crumbled into Suguru’s arms. He pulls you in closer to his body as yours shakes and heaves, you two sit like that for what feels like an eternity as you let the tears that carry your pain and sorrows fall from your eyes. Your hands balls up Suguru’s shirt as you cry in his embrace, you try to control your sob but it only makes your body shakes harder, almost hyperventilating.
“Shhhh, take your time, let it out. I’m here… we’re here… we’re not goin’ anywhere”
“He said he loves me! He said he wanted to marry me! And not even 2 weeks after our breakup, he’s getting his dick wet and telling another girl he loves her!” you choked out in anguish, still in denial that any of this is real.
“How did you find out about that?” Satoru asked, carrying a tray full of food; after hearing your sobs, he decided that a few snacks wasn’t going to cut it. 
“Because the fucker doesn’t even have the decency to keep it private, he been posting her all over his social media!” you swipe out your phone in frustration, pulling up Anthon’s account to show your two best friends the picture of your ex and the girl sitting on his lap, kissing. 
They both make a face when you show them the picture, “gross” they said in unison as Satoru places the tray on the table and sits down on your other side.
“I’m just so angry, I can’t believe I wasted 2 years loving someone who never was truthful to me! How can I be so stupid?” your tears are boiling hot, they feel like acid on your skin.
“Hey, hey, look at me, you’re not stupid for simply loving someone.” Satoru cups your face with his hands, nudging you to face him, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. You close your eyes and feel the warmth of his hands. It’s comforting to be held so gently.
“That’s right, don’t shame yourself for being strong enough to love someone with all you got. That’s a strength, not a weakness.” Suguru agrees, pulling a couple of tissues from the box and handing it to you. 
You take the tissues from him to wipe away the tears and blow your nose, it was getting a little hard to breathe from crying, “Thank you… It just hurt realizing that even though I loved him, he never loved me; at least, I don’t think someone who loves me would go out of their way to hurt me like this. Him posting her and rubbing it in my face not even 2 weeks later makes me feel like… I just wasn't worth loving…”
“You’re right, someone that loves you wouldn’t hurt you like he did. But that doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. To us, you’re worth all the love this world has to offer…” Suguru whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder, and he means it. God, does he mean it. Satoru can see it in his partner’s eyes, the same feelings he has.
Satoru and Suguru have loved each other deeply since they were kids, but they always feel something is missing in their relationship. When you walt into their life when they were 15 through the door call “physic group project”, they thought something was wrong with them. They still very clearly love each other, their love is still burning, but their hearts forget how to beat when you smile at them.
How can they not fall for you? You’re kind, so kind you would push aside your shyness and discomfort to help those that need it. You’re intelligent, you quite literally carried them through that physics group project. And dear god, the way you just fit perfectly into their dynamic makes them realize very quickly that they desperately want you to be a part of their life. So desperately, they couldn’t bring themselves to tell you about their feelings in fear of scaring you away from them forever.
“Tell you what? Let’s watch some true crime documentary that you like so much since you’re secretly a sociopath, maybe they’ll give you the inspiration of what to do for revenge?” Satoru said with a smirk.
“If inspiration striked you, we’ll be your executioners.” Suguru added, smiling in relief seeing that you're feeling better after letting it all out. You let out a small giggle and nod. 
Satoru turns on the TV and searches for “Unsolved” while Suguru goes to grab the three of you a blanket. When Suguru comes back with the blanket, you get comfortable cuddling between the two of them on the couch. Between Satoru’s jokes about how if he was the detective case wouldn’t have gone cold, and Suguru’s soft chuckles of ‘sure babe’ at his boyfriend’s comment,you start to feel a lot better. 
You have always felt the most at home with them. It felt natural to be with them, Satoru’s humor brings laughter into your day, Suguru’s gentleness makes you feel safe. They ground you. You’re starting to wonder why you were even with the dirtbag when you have best friends who show you how you should be treated. But before you can think more on that, drowsiness takes over you.
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. With how hard you were crying and the emotional turmoil you experienced, it would be more surprising if you stayed awake. Satoru looks over to the sight of your sleeping face. He squeezed Suguru’s hand he been holding behind you on the headrest of the couch.
Suguru looks over at Satoru and notices where his gaze was directed at. “I don’t want to see her like that again. She deserves all the sunshines life has got to offer, not heartbreak” Satoru whispered softly. 
“Do… you think⸻” Suguru started
“Yeah.” 
It’s a silent agreement between them. They’re done with watching you on the sideline. They’re done with seeing you in pain. They don’t want to be afraid of losing you anymore if it means they have to leave your happiness in the hands of some other dudes that’s not them. In the hands of someone that doesn’t know how to cherish it like they do. 
Suguru gives Satoru’s hand 3 long squeezes, I love you. A soft and silent affection flows between them. You always joke that they’re each other's twin flames due to how they seem to be sharing the same soul; their ideology, way of thinking, even how they feel. They’re so similar despite different personalities it’s uncanny. But they think that if they’re each other’s twin flame, then you would be their soulmate. 
They let go of each other's hands so Satoru can carry you into their guest’s room. Well, they call it that but the color and decorations they have in it are all catered to your liking, plus no one beside you ever stays the night anyway. 
Suguru opens the door to the room for Satoru. They laid you down and tucked you in. 
Suguru went into the bathroom to get a damp face towel. He softly wipes away your streaks of tears so you can sleep comfortably without feeling the stickiness from your tears. 
They closed the door as quietly as possible so they don’t wake you, not before glancing at you one last time. 
Looking at each other, eyes full of love and determination, they silently vow to each other. They’re going to make you fall, sweep you right off your feet. They’ll treat you like you’re their most prized treasure. You’ll fall for them so hard, you’ll forget you’ve ever loved anyone but them.
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venusbyline ¡ 1 month ago
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Thrusts ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 23, oct.
(late post)
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— pairing: Elle Greenaway x girlfriend!reader
— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)
— kink: orgasm denial + strap-on
— summary: You feel insecure and jealous when you see Elle teasing you with Morgan. However, she apologizes very well by buying a gift for your dating anniversary.
— word count: 1.0k
— tags/warnings: kinktober 23rd day, female!reader, girlfriend!Elle, shy!reader, sassy!Elle, orgasm denial, strap-on, edging play, cowgirl position, praise kink, vaginal sex, breast worship, nipple play, nipple licking, large cock (strap-on), cock worship (strap-on), experimentalist!reader, experimentalist!Elle, jealously, argument, teasing, relationship issues, light corruption kink, dumbification, reader is a member of the BAU, past Elle Greenaway x Derek Morgan, inexperienced/innocent!reader, bisexual!Elle, lesbian!reader, dom!Elle, sub!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.
— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917
— crossposting: AO3
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"You look so fucking hot right now, princess...” Elle smirked with her hands on your ass as you whimpered, your breasts shaking with each ride on top of her fake cock.
Elle had bought a strap-on as a gift for your first dating anniversary. You never tested something like this yet, despite both of you being very eager into that. Elle was worried about suggesting that new experience, ever since last week, when she joked with Morgan about the only unlucky thing about dating a woman was that she no longer knew what it felt like to cum around a good thick cock.
It was just supposed to be a harmless joke, but it sounded extremely stupid after she realized your discomfort. Not only had she mocked you, as if something important was missing during your relationship, but she also joked about the topic directly with Morgan. You already knew that they had been casually involved a few times before you and Elle dated, and you always tried to take it as a normal thing, since Morgan was also one of your best friends and you trusted him. After all, their affair was just the past.
However, you could not help but feel uncomfortable and jealous. Elle noticed your thoughts and did not know how to apologize. She wanted to say it was just a stupid joke and actually you were the best sex of her whole life. She did not care about stupid penises if she already had your pretty pussy for her to taste whenever she wanted. Anyway, she was angry with herself for hurting your feelings and making you insecure, so she chose the silence.
No explanations or apologies made everything more awkward between you two and your relationship cooled. Both of you focused more on the cases and preferred to spend your free time resting rather than having sex, which was very unusual.
Until your long-awaited anniversary arrived. When Elle decided to buy a strap-on, she thought she would like seeing you using that, she thought she would like to feel a cock inside her again, even if it was made of rubber. But the moment your eyes lit up when she showed you the box, she knew she did not want to be fucked by you. She wanted to fuck you.
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Your movements were soft at first. You were much shyer than Elle and you lost your virginity to her a few days before your relationship finally became official. So there were countless things to you experience yet. And one of them was the fact that you had never been fucked by a cock before, be it fake or real.
Then, when you were riding Elle, she stroked your hair, trying to soothe your discomfort as your pussy still got used to the intrusion and the new movements. Even though that cock was not real, Elle could practically feel your tight walls crushing it. Her fingers were slender and long and she never hesitated to put two or three inside you, sometimes even four, but choosing such a big and thick strap-on seemed to tear you in half.
"Hurts a lot?" Elle asked with a lovely smile, her hands moving down to your waist to help you continue riding her, but you whimpered, preventing her from cooperating.
"S-Stop! I can do it myself!" You hissed like a stubborn child and Elle chuckled, nodding and crossing her arms behind her head, just lying on the bed again and watching you on top of her lap. The view she had was perfect. Your eyes closed, your head arched back, lips parted and your breasts perked up. Damn...she wanted so badly to fuck the middle of your breasts with that cock later.
After you refused her touches, Elle bit her lip and removed her arms from under her head and moved them up to her own breasts, squeezing the large mounds and playing with the nipples, before moving her hips upward, the unexpected thrust making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your eyes opened and you whimpered at the sight of Elle giving you that teasing look while she was playing with her own body. "D-don't fucking do that again!" You tried to sound threatening, but Elle rolled her eyes, arching an eyebrow before thrusting a second time. And then a third. A fourth. A fifth...
Your eyes rolled back into your head at the deep fucking, the big cock filling you completely and hurting your sensitive core, but with a delightful way. You knew you were about to cum so quickly, maybe it was because of the resentment still built up in your mind, or maybe it was due to your pussy already being too wet and dripping before you even sat down on the strap-on.
Elle knew this too, because as soon as she made the sixth and seventh thrusts, she simply stopped, stopping your growing orgasm and smirking at the sight of you trembling, your shaky and weak legs giving out in despair, making you fall on top of her body. Elle loved denying your orgasms, you always came much better when she prolonged it all. "Not yet, princess." Elle scoffed, taking advantage of your sudden brainless for a moment so she could fuck you slowly, with soft movements, enjoying how you whimpered, your flushed face buried between her large breasts, your tongue licking her light brown nipples to pleasure her too, even though she was already enjoying herself just watching you whining and drooling while her cock moving in and out of you.
"My good girl... Always so good to me. Milking my cock and whimpering like a cute slut, desperate to cum soon around me." At that moment, Elle Greenaway was sure that she would never miss being fucked by a man. Now she would always rather fuck you with her strap-on and deny you as many orgasms as you could handle, until you finally let go and squirt all over her body at the end of the night.
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Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist
HOTD Edition - Masterlist
Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist
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redroomreflections ¡ 8 months ago
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II HANDS II HEAVEN 5
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Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.
W/c: 3.2k.
Masterlist | General Masterlist
“Red or Blue?” You asked Natasha as you sifted through one of your many suitcases. Clothes were strewn about on the floor around you as you debated what to wear. It wasn’t exactly a tough choice but first impressions mattered. Even if the first impressions you were banking on weren’t the other hotel guests. 
“What?” She glanced up from her phone, confusion evident in her furrowed brow. “Why are you asking me?” 
She was busy debriefing Steve and the team on a few minor details. Small things she picked up about the resort from your time in the lobby. So far, as expected, everything seemed normal. 
You glanced over, noticing her distraction, and rolled your eyes. "Just trying to involve you in the decision-making process. You know, team effort. Don’t you have girlfriends that you discuss outfit choices with?” 
 "Not really my style," She replied dryly, before resuming her conversation with Steve and the team, seamlessly slipping back into her professional demeanor.
“I can see,” You muttered as you slipped into the bathroom. You took your time changing into the black suit, tying it as best you could behind your neck before you snapped the straps of the bottoms on your waistline. You walk back over to your suitcase, squatting to find your favorite lotion-sunscreen combo that always has your skin looking lovely and sparkly. “I guess it’s not okay to ask you if I should wear my hair up or down?” You tilted your head, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you applied generous amounts of lotion to your legs. With one knee bent, you glanced over to Natasha, waiting for her response.
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement as she glanced up from her phone. "I suppose you can ask," she replied. "But don't expect any expert advice from me."
You shook your head. What a shame. "Fair enough," you conceded, finishing up with the lotion before returning to your suitcase. "Looks like it's just me and my questionable fashion sense then."
It’s then Natasha truly looked at you. This bikini was wow. In every sense of the word. It was very little, borderline inappropriate, but also somehow still tasteful. Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary as she took in the sight, a subtle appreciation glinting in her eyes.
"Um, Natasha?" You prompted, noticing her prolonged scrutiny.
Natasha blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, uh, sorry," she replied, clearing her throat. "Wear your hair down. It suits the look."
You didn't catch her response at first, too engrossed in adjusting the straps of your bikini top. "What was that?" you asked, looking up to meet her gaze.
Natasha repeated herself, her tone more decisive this time. "I said, wear it down. It looks good." 
You grinned in response, nodding in agreement before turning your attention back to your reflection in the mirror. Natasha's subtle compliment brought warmth to your cheeks and a little more pep in your step.
“Are you wearing that?” You gestured to her as you made eye contact in the mirror across from the bed. It's an interesting choice on the resort’s part. Natasha’s outfit was homely but not in an insulting kind of way. A comfy set since the both of you had spent hours in the car.  With this blonde hair, she resembled the everyday girl next door. 
“Of course not,” Natasha shook her head. She grabbed her bikini from the luggage she’d unpacked already at this point.  “Don’t turn around.” She warned you. 
You turned your gaze toward the mirror, only to witness a blur of motion behind you. Clothes flew through the air as Natasha swiftly shed her sweatpants and t-shirt and stepped into her one-piece swimsuit with practiced efficiency.
The speed and fluidity of her movements left you momentarily speechless, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you watched in awe. You attempted to distract yourself with the jewelry in front of you. Diamond hoop earrings and a small heart-shaped necklace. 
Natasha looked up from fastening her sandals. "Are you ready?"
You raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. "You just got dressed and you’re already rushing me?"
Natasha chuckled, her smirk widening as she shook her head. "I like to stay ahead of schedule," she replied, her tone teasing. 
You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Alright, alright," you conceded, reaching for your sandals. "I'm ready when you are."
“You’re wearing jewelry to the pool?” She questioned, pushing the Fendi sunglasses over her hair. 
Natasha's question caught you off guard as you adjusted your jewelry, a puzzled expression on your face. 
You glanced down at your accessories, contemplating her observation for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Why not?" you replied, your fingers deftly arranging the delicate pieces. "A little extra never hurt anyone."
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “ If you say so," she conceded."Just don't come crying to me if you lose something in the water."
“Don’t worry I’ll find some hot pool boy to find it for me,” You shrugged. 
Natasha arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she shot back with equal snarkiness, "Just make sure he's qualified for the job."
***********
The pool area stirred with activity, a lively mix of people young and old enjoying the serene surroundings. The crystal-clear water sparkled under the sun's gentle rays, creating a picturesque scene that called to you.
Finding a few empty seats nearby, you and Natasha made your way over, the soft chatter of voices and the occasional splash of water filling the air. There was some reggae mix on the stereo as the bartender called out names for drinks. Dropping your bags and book onto the nearest chair, you settled down with a contented sigh, sinking into the welcoming embrace of the cushioned seat.
“Joan, sweetie,” You said with a mischievous grin, turning to Natasha. “I left my towel back in the room. Won’t you be a dear and grab me one?”
Natasha narrowed her eyes at your request, having just settled into her seat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of annoyance in her gaze as she considered your cheeky demeanor. With a low growl, Natasha stood and walked over to the shelf where the spare towels were. She grabbed a few, walking back over to you with a frown. 
“Here,” She gently passed a towel to you. “Anything else?”
“Hmm,” You thought long and hard. “I’d love a strawberry-lemon mojito.”
Natasha's eyes narrowed further at your response."Keep dreaming," she wanted to say, but for the sake of appearances, she sighed and walked over to the bartender.  
You watched her walk away, your eyes lingering on certain assets longer than necessary. You could admit that Natasha had an amazing physique. Something you had always admired from a distance. 
A subtle flush crept up your cheeks as you realized the direction of your thoughts. Despite your professionalism, you couldn't deny the admiration you held for Natasha's physical prowess. It was a quality you had always respected, even if you had never openly acknowledged it before.
She’d probably kill you if you did it anyway. 
Turning your attention back to the pool, you made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside any lingering distractions. Beside you, you noticed an older woman with graying hair casting a curious glance in your direction. Her eyes flashed with interest as she leaned closer, a warm smile gracing her lips.
“Newlyweds?” she ventured, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.
"Yeah, how'd you know?" you replied, feigning innocence as you awaited her response.
The older lady chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. "Oh, it's just something about the way you two carry yourselves," she explained with a knowing smile. "There's a certain glow of happiness and togetherness that newlyweds often have. It's unmistakable."
“Wow, you got all that in the five minutes you saw us together?” You questioned. “Are you a psychic or something?”
"Only in a past life," She laughed lightly. "I'm Leslie. And this is my husband Frank. “She referred to the sleeping man with a slight sunburn next to her. You are?" she introduced herself, extending her hand in a gesture of greeting.
"Alexis," you replied with a warm smile, accepting her handshake. "Nice to meet you, Leslie. My lovely wife over there is Joan."
"Oh, I love this newer generation of out and proud love," Leslie smiled wistfully. "It’s so beautiful to see. Such a beautiful couple too. Is this your first time at the resort?"
"Thank you, Leslie," you replied sincerely, touched by her kindness. "Yes, it's our first time here. We heard wonderful things about the resort and couldn't resist experiencing it for ourselves."
“And how do you like it?” Her eyes sparkled with interest. 
"It's been quite lovely so far," You added. “It’s been a while since we’ve taken a proper vacation together. I’m so excited for the week we’re here.” 
Leslie's excitement was contagious as she spoke about the upcoming events at the resort. "You’re going to be blown away by all of the events this week," she grinned. "There’s a special bonfire tomorrow night that’s simply fabulous. It’s intimate and cozy. Allows you to make friends on vacation."
Your interest was piqued at the mention of the bonfire, as it hadn’t been mentioned in any of the research you’d done. Maybe it was a new development."That sounds wonderful," you replied with genuine enthusiasm, masking any hint of suspicion behind your smile. "We'll definitely have to check it out."
“You absolutely should,” Leslie began to stand. “It would be wonderful for a lovely couple like you to grace us with your presence.” Leslie’s aching bones limited her mobility as she shuffled around the chairs. “I’m going to the bathroom. If Frank wakes up, which I doubt he will, be a dear and tell him I’ll be back.”
“Will do, Leslie,” You nodded, offering a warm smile. She seemed nice enough. You returned your gaze to Natasha to see that she was engaged in a conversation of her own. Seems that people naturally gravitated to both of you. 
*******************
For the first time in days, Natasha found a moment of peace at the bar. She settled onto one of the stools, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music as she signaled to the bartender. As he approached Natasha did a quick once over of his body. Something someone of his attractiveness would be used to. His dark, mahogany skin glowed with a natural warmth, complemented by a smile that seemed to light up the entire bar. 
His hair, a messy of glossy curls, framed his face in a wild and untamed mane, adding to his charm.
He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants that appeared to be the uniform for all of the staff. 
"Hello," Natasha greeted him with a warm smile, her tone playful yet composed. "I'll take a strawberry and lemon mojito, and hmm," she paused, pressing a finger to her chin in contemplation. She was completely in character at the moment. "Surprise me. Something fruity."
"Coming right up," he replied with a nod, before stepping over to his work area. 
Natasha watched him for a few moments longer before her eyes trailed over the pool area, she couldn't help but notice the diverse display of people and their lively parties. Briefly, her gaze flickered in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. You managed to look so relaxed already. Though she could see the subtle ways your eyes would flick over the pool area whenever you laughed or spoke to the older woman sitting beside you. 
“Hey, Henry, that couple’s here again.” A short woman with bone-straight brunette hair and botox lips informed him as she stepped behind the counter. She did quick work of washing her hands and gathering abandoned dishes on the bar. Natasha squinted to see her name tag. Blanca. A fitting name. 
“Which one?” Henry, the bartender Natasha had spoken to moments earlier, briefly glanced over to her. 
“The one with the dog,” Blanca sighed. “Don’t know why Jorge keeps allowing them to bring it. He’s anxious and it’s too hot out here for him anyway.” 
Henry furrowed his brow in concern, glancing briefly in the direction of the couple with the dog approaching. "That doesn't sound good," he remarked."Have they caused any trouble?"
Blanca shook her head, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You know how Jorge is, always bending the rules for certain guests."
Natasha's mind raced with possibilities as she listened to their conversation. The mention of Jorge and his leniency towards certain guests hinted at a potential breach in security or protocol. 
“Here you are ma’am,” Henry passed Natasha both drinks before she stood to walk back to her seat. 
As she passed the couple, the dog in question moved over to sniff Natasha in greeting. 
“Oh, hello there,” Natasha smiled warmly, reaching out a hand to give the dog a gentle pat on the head. This certainly wasn’t a service dog based on his relaxed demeanor.
“Oh, Ozzy is so friendly, I’m so sorry,” The woman with platinum blonde hair and several tattoos attached to the leash apologized to Natasha, a hint of concern in her voice.
Natasha waved off the apology with a gracious smile. "No need to apologize, he's quite adorable," she reassured the woman, her tone friendly and welcoming.
As Natasha continued interacting with the dog, she noted the couple's appearance and demeanor. Something about them didn't quite fit the typical resort guest profile of this caliber, and Natasha's instincts told her there might be more to their presence than meets the eye. They both seemed so uptight and frazzled. 
Natasha gave them another smile and walked back over to you. 
“Took you long enough my drink is probably watered-down liquor,” You pouted. “Eh, this is wow.” You coughed. It wasn’t nasty. It was strong and certainly had more alcohol than fruit somehow. 
Natasha arched an eyebrow at your remark. 
"Well, perhaps next time you can come behind the bar and make it yourself," she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Then you can ensure it meets your exacting standards."
“My existing standards led me to you,” You said through your teeth. 
Natasha's lips curved into a smirk as she settled into the seat beside you, her gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding.
"Well, lucky me," she retorted. "I'll make sure to keep living up to those standards then."
"Does it ever end?" You fake whispered, turning your head towards Leslie, attempting to convey your thoughts discreetly.
Leslie caught your gaze and smiled kindly, her eyes reflecting understanding. At least she had the decency to pretend she wasn’t listening. "Oh, dear," she replied with a chuckle.  "Sometimes it feels like it never does, but there's always a light at the end of the tunnel."
"J, this is Leslie," You introduced Natasha smoothly, seamlessly slipping into your cover story. "She’s my new best friend."
"It's lovely to meet you, Leslie," Natasha added with a friendly smile, her tone warm and genuine.
“Well, aren't you two just the sweetest pair," she remarked, her voice tinged with affection. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Joan. I was telling your wife here about the bonfire tomorrow. It’s something special. You have to see it."
You nodded in agreement, your smile genuine as you responded. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Leslie. Thank you for the recommendation. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening."
As the conversation dwindled, eventually Leslie drifted over to the poolside and began to make conversation with a few older women. Natasha began to go through the bag she’d brought to the pool and found a small bottle of sunscreen. 
"Here, rub this on me," She instructed you, handing you a bottle of sunscreen.
"Why?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice as you eyed her pale skin. "Didn’t you already put some on before?"
Natasha gave you a pointed look, her expression conveying a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Don’t question the logic, just do it," she replied firmly, holding out her arm expectantly.
As you began applying sunscreen to Natasha's exposed skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. Silently, you wondered why you had taken on this job in the first place. It wasn't that you were truly angry; in fact, you were the complete opposite. 
This part of the mission had never been difficult before. Playing the part of a fake doting wife had practically become second nature to you. But being here with Natasha felt different. There was something about her presence that stirred emotions within you, emotions you hadn't expected to surface during the mission.
Natasha turned her back to you, dropping the straps of her swimsuit lower on her arms so you could reach her shoulders. The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you found yourself lost in the sensation of her warm skin beneath your fingertips.
As you rubbed the warm cream into Natasha's skin, the muscles of her back flexed slightly beneath your touch. You couldn't help but notice the way her body responded to your ministrations, and a rush of thoughts flooded your mind. They weren't entirely pure thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the direction your mind was wandering.
But then, a small comfort washed over you - at least Natasha couldn't read minds. You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for that small mercy, grateful that your innermost thoughts remained your own.
"I think we could hang out by the pool for a few hours and then call it a night," Natasha suggested, her voice breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Maybe go over some things."
"Sounds like a plan," you replied, masking any hint of hesitation with a casual tone. "A bit of relaxation by the pool is exactly what I’m here for.”
“Only that?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to you. “And the beautiful women,” You muttered under your breath. 
Natasha's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features as she turned to face you fully. "Really?" she questioned, her voice carrying a note of exasperation.
You chuckled, recognizing her annoyance but unable to resist pushing her buttons just a little. "Hey, just stating the obvious," You replied with a shrug. 
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, try to keep your eyes open okay?" she retorted, a touch of teasing in her tone despite her annoyance. “Don’t sleep with anyone behind my back.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” You pressed a hand to your chest, faking scandilization. “How dare you insinuate I would ever cheat on my beautiful, intelligent, and hot wife.” 
“That drink was stronger than you’re letting on,” Natasha smirked knowingly. 
“Maybe,” You shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.” You sighed as you lounged in the chair, your head pointed towards the sun. Natasha turned in her chair to watch you for a few seconds longer before she laid back in her chair. 
So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this place. It seemed like a typical resort, with sun-drenched pool areas, lush tropical foliage, and guests lounging lazily in the warm afternoon sun. 
Everything appeared to be just as it should be, with no signs of the covert operations or clandestine activities that you had been tasked with uncovering.
Despite the lack of immediate danger or suspicious behavior, you remained vigilant, knowing that appearances could be deceiving.
next part
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lostdreamr-blog1 ¡ 9 months ago
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Pinky Promise 2
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Pinky Promise Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Summary: Part 2 of Pinky Promise. The two of you become close friends, but one night shows Jake just how much you trust him.
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a hot minute since I have put something out but I promise you I have a good reason for it! I just had a baby and haven’t had time to sit down and write. But hoping to put out more content here soon! Thank you all for reading!!! - C
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It was an ungodly time in the morning when you heard the doorbell ring. It took more will power than you would like to admit to even sit up in bed, head pounding with the slight elevation change. You wiped the sleep and last night’s makeup from your eyes, most likely smearing streaks of it across your face. And you sat there contemplating all of your life’s choices up to this point.
The doorbell seemed to yell at you, telling you that whoever was on the other side must have been impatient. A quick glance at the clock said it was 8:30 and you had to take a deep breath to not hurt the person who was making you get out of bed.
A few stumbling steps later, you opened the door to find a delivery guy with a bag of food. While you took the bag from him, the confusion was pretty clear. Even the guy who was turning to walk away could see it. “There is a note on the receipt.” And then he was gone.
Between the hangover from hell and very few hours of sleep you got; you were slow moving to get back inside. To anyone walking by you must have looked like you lost your mind with the amount of time you spent looking at the bag. But by some miracle, your legs took you back to bed while your mind was still reeling.
The bag didn’t have any sort of logo or name on it, but it did smell good. You opened it up and reached for the receipt first, trying to find answers.
The tacos I promised you. – Jake
A laugh came out as you put the piece of paper aside, making your way to the things that were making your mouth water. Breakfast tacos greeted you and suddenly being woken up was not a bad thing anymore.
You went to reach for your phone to thank the blond-haired pilot but stopped when you remembered exactly why you now had tacos. Your drunken self called your brothers most hated teammate last night because you didn’t want to get your brother involved. You winced at the thought of him finding out and pulled your hand back.
You dreaded looking at your phone, knowing Bradley most likely had blown it up after last night. So, instead of being a responsible adult who answered for her own actions, you turned your phone over. What you couldn’t see meant it wasn’t there. Denial was one of your favorite places to live in.
Jake seemed friendly enough, offering help whenever you needed. He also wasn’t quick to judge you like others. It wasn’t lost on you that Bradley had most likely told his teammates how “reckless and wild” you were, already painting a bad picture of you. But Jake didn’t make you feel that way. He actually made you think that you might be able to call him a friend, even if he didn’t see eye to eye with your brother.
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Jake heard a knock at his door and tried to think who would be here at this time of night. The confusion only grew when he opened his door to find you walking past him and making yourself home on his couch.
“Ever think about how dumb Tuesdays are? Like the only thing they are good for is tacos.” Jake had to blink a few times for his mind to catch up to what was happening.
“I can’t say that I have. Did that burning question drive you all the way over here?” He closed the door and walked to the adjacent couch to sit. He had a feeling this was going to be a long visit.
“I had to thank you in person for the tacos since I’m ignoring my phone.” Jake’s eyebrows rose that comment and pushed you on it. He watched as you played with your hair, giving him a hint at one of your tells. You were either uncomfortable or nervous about your answer and he locked that piece of information away for later.
“Look, my brother can be a bit much sometimes and I didn’t have the energy to deal with him this morning. Then this morning quickly turned into this evening, and I figured it’s a lost cause now.”
Jake bit back a smile, “So, you thought ignoring him was your best option?” He thought back to his conversation with said pilot at work this morning and was surprised when he saw a new side of him.
Bradley at first apologized for “having to deal with you.” But once he realized he didn’t mind making sure you got home safe, he thanked him and said it won’t happened again. Jake brought up his sisters and how he would want to make sure that if they needed help, someone would be there regardless of how good of terms he might or might not be with that person. This seemed to clear the air between them a bit, making work a little easier.
“I know it isn’t exactly my smartest idea, but you can only be called irresponsible so many times before you lose it. Was he mad at you this morning?” Jake shook his head, “Thankful for getting you home. That’s all.” He watched you nod your head but could see you didn’t fully believe him.
“You pinky promise I didn’t make things worse for you at work?” Jake laughed at yet another pinky promise.
“Yes, I pinky promise. Have you eaten dinner? I have leftovers I was about to heat up.” And with that offering, it opened the door to a new friendship.
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Jake often found himself answering the door to you, texting you at random hours of the day, and always making sure you made it home safely. The two of you quickly became good friends, making the random house visits become a normal thing. He started to look forward to you coming over, knowing that your carefree way of life would bring him some sort of interesting story.
Until tonight.
The knock on his door was a little later than normal. Typically, you made your way over right after he got home from work. But tonight, it was hours past that time. Jake opened the door expecting you to waltz right in, but instead you were stood rooted in place with your head down. Red flags instantly went up as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
“Hey darlin’. How about we head inside?” His heart dropped when you lifted your head up. A bruise was starting to form around your right eye and by the way you were holding yourself, he knew it was from something bad.
A million different scenarios went through his mind, each worse than the last. But until he could get to the bottom of it, he needed to make sure you were okay. The ever so confident girl he had come to adore was nowhere in sight as he fully took you in. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, almost as if you were trying to be as small as possible. Despite the swelling from the bruise, he could see redness around your eyes from crying.
He moved to the side as you slowly made your way in allowing him to close the door and give you his full attention. “Sweetheart, what happened?” You flinched as he moved his hand towards you, making him stop his motion and put his hand up.
“You know I would never hurt you. I just need to look at that eye.” He waited for you to give some sort of okay before he tried again.
“I had this date and he wanted to go back to his place. All I did was tell him no.” Your words came out as a near whisper, but Jake heard you loud and clear. He had to take a second to calm himself down to not scare you any further.
“Can I give you a hug?” His words surprised you. The two of you were never one to show affection but for him to ask permission before doing it solidified why you chose to come here. A small head nod and he pulled you into his chest.
“I am so sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to feel that kind of fear.” And that simple gesture pushed you to your breaking point. The tears started all over again, but this time you felt a sense of comfort as you let them out. He continued to hold you for a few minutes and when he let go, you could see just how much this had affected him too.
He couldn’t help but think about his sisters and what he would do if they were ever in this situation. To have someone hit them simply because they said no made him sick to his stomach. Which is why he knew he needed to let your brother know.
“Sit down on the couch and I’ll grab you some ice to help with the swelling.” You did as he said, and Jake walked into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen vegetables for you. While he was in there, he sent a quick text to Bradley telling him he needed to come over now. Jake knew he would do it based on the zero interactions they have outside of work. Bradley would know something was wrong.
He walked back out and saw you curled up on the couch, wiping a few tears from your face. When he picked you up from that bar a few weeks ago, he never imagined the two of you would be here. But he was glad to be that person for you.
“Put this on your eye for fifteen minutes and it should help numb the pain a bit.” You took the bag from him and did as he said. “Also, your brother should be on his way.”
The look of panic crossed your face, and he knew there was a chance you didn’t want your brother to know.
“I know you don’t want him to find out, but this is something your brother would want to know. I promise you that.” He watched as you played with the ends of your hair.
“He is going to try and say it’s my fault.” Jake knew the two of you had a bumpy relationship with just how different your lives were. But he didn’t for one second think that your brother would ever blame you for this.
“Let me get one thing straight. This is by no way your fault. A man should never lay his hands on a woman no matter what the reasoning. You said no and he needed to respect that. End of story.”
A knock on the door made you jump, and Jake waited a second before he went to open it. He gave Bradley zero warning on what he was walking into, and you weren’t in the best headspace to begin with. He knew there was a chance this wasn’t going to go well, but your brother couldn’t be left out of this.
Jake opened the door and said, “Try and keep calm.” Bradley walked in and took one look at you and pushed Jake up the wall. “The fuck did you do, Bagman?” Jake knew the initial reaction was going to be rough, but he was hoping he would still be able to fly tomorrow.
You stood up and quickly tried to push your brother away. While he didn’t budge, you at least got his attention. “He didn’t do this. I didn’t know where to go so I came here.”
Bradley looked back to Jake for confirmation and then backed off. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked between the two of you. “Someone needs to start explaining. Now.”
Jake looked over to you to see what you wanted to do. He had no issue telling Bradshaw the whole story, but he didn’t want to step on your toes. You didn’t tell him the two of you were friends for a reason, and he wasn’t sure how much you wanted to explain.
You took a deep breath and tried your best to answer, “Ever since the night Jake gave me a ride home, we’ve been hanging out. He’s been a good friend, one that I probably don’t deserve, but someone I know I can go to. I had a date tonight and it clearly didn’t go well. I was going to go home but I knew it wasn’t the best idea. Here was the next best place.”
Bradley shook his head, “Why here? Why not to my house? You know you can come to me for anything.”
You looked down as you said, “You always say how reckless I am, and I didn’t want this to be another huge disappointment for you.”
You heard Bradley curse under his breath but couldn’t find the courage to look up. Which is why you let out a yelp when he put a hand on your shoulder. “I know I’m hard on you but that’s because you’re the only family I have left. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me for things. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. But this? This is something I need to know, and I would never say it’s your fault. Something like this shouldn’t have happened and you best believe I am going to kill the guy who did this to you.”
You gave him a small nod and he turned your head to get a better look at your eye. “This is going to be a nasty bruise. Did he get you anywhere else?”
Jake watched in curiosity when your eyes seemed to light up some. “No. I stopped him before he could do anything else. Didn’t hurt as bad this time either.” The two pilots were confused until Jake looked down at your hand to see some slight bruising.
“Looks like you got him good.” Bradley caught on but then asked what you meant by “this time.”
You looked over to Jake for help explaining. “Killer over here has a nasty right hook. Said you taught her how to throw it.”
Bradley slowly nodded his head and almost looked excited when he asked if you used it on Jake. “You wish.” He chuckled some and then looked over to his teammate. “Thanks for looking out for her. Clearly you are doing a better job at it than me.”
Jake smirked, “Just one more thing to add to the list that I’m better at.”
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A/N: Thoughts? Still deciding if I am going to add another one of these to the mini-series. Thank you so so much for reading!! - C
Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers
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kksverse ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Winters Touch
A/N: This is part of a series where you can find the first chapter below!! Also, I didn't want to rush them getting to know each other so please don't send airstrikes to my location 😩.
I also posted it on ao3!!
Chapter One
masterlist
Summary:
Soulmate AU where the name of your soulmate is seared into the skin above your heart when you first make eye contact with them.
Reader discovers that Bucky Barnes is her soulmate when he is the Winter Solider.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2261
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Chapter 2: When the Phone Rings
It had been weeks since you met your soulmate. Since your soulmate almost tried to kill you. To say you have been handling it poorly would be an understatement. 
In the beginning, you would sit by the phone waiting for Steve to call every hour of every day. And every day you would be disappointed by the silence that filled your apartment. Your workplace was one of the many that were ruined during the attack so you have had nothing to fill your time with. So you deep dived into finding out who exactly Bucky was. The more you searched about him the more your heart ached at the thought of what he has done. A news coverage spread of the attack a few weeks ago named him the “Winter Soldier”, whose list of crimes were so long they shorted the coverage to only cover his confirmed kills. 
His murders. 
The day you found out you couldn’t eat all day. Throwing up anything you attempted to eat. Since then your faith in the man that Steve described has been lost. How can someone like that do this? 
So you stopped waiting by the phone. Stopped waiting for any sign of your soulmate. Began trying to move on with your life. Started volunteering at animal shelters, tried yoga, took daily walks to clear your racing thoughts. But the more you did to try and move on the harder it was to sleep. 
Your dreams plagued you a life that could be. A life with Bucky, a life of happiness with your soulmate. Then you woke up and for a second the happiness in your dreams would follow you but it wouldn’t last long when reality came crashing down and left you with a heavy heart ready to split into two. 
You were making breakfast one morning getting ready to go to the animal shelter when you heard a name on the news that caused your body to go still. Spinning around your breath catches on the screen at the picture of him. 
Bucky
You grabbed the remote with a shaky hand turning up the tv until it covered the sound of your beating heart. 
“Statements have come out that the infamous Winter Soldier was not involved in the bombing of the UN Senate in Vienna but instead was framed for the bombing and the murder of King T’Chaka by Helmut Zemo” 
You could not move as the picture of Zemo came on screen. You didn’t dare to breathe as you watched the screen. 
“Sources move to the motion to pardon the Winter Soldier, formerly lieutenant James Buckanan Barnes who served alongside Steve Rogers. The pardon goes under the information that James Barnes was held against his will and brainwashed into committing the crimes under the guise of the Winter Soldier. While we await for more information regarding this matter, it has been confirmed that he remains at the Avengers tower until further action of the pardon is to be taken” 
The coverage continued to go into detail about HYDRA and what they had done to turn James Buchanan Barnes into the Winter Soldier. 
Tears rolled down your face at the information on the screen. Steve was right. A sob broke out at the thought of that. Steve was right and you had given up on him. You had given up on your soulmate. You had tried to move on with your life while he suffered. You hand reached out to grip the couch in front of you as your knees felt weak. The pain in your chest was so heavy you could not breathe. Looking up at the screen, you saw the list of things that they did to him. That they did to your soulmate. Your vision went spotty as you rushed to the bathroom and threw up your breakfast. 
When you had nothing left in your body you pulled your hair out of your face as you laid down on the cold tile of the floor. You laid there until you felt the buzzing of your phone against the tile. Looking at caller ID your heart stopped in your throat. You sat up as you answered the phone.
“Steve?” your voice coming out harshly. 
“Hi” he replied immediately, his voice causing you to bite back more tears 
“Hi” you whispered back not believing that he was actually calling you. All the hours you waited by the phone only for it to be silent. 
“Did you see the news on channel ... .well every channel” he said humorously, you could hear whispering in the background but you didn’t question it. 
“Yes. Is it true?” your voice hoarse from throwing up and sobbing. 
“Yes” you could hear the smile in his voice. “We got him back” he whispered softly. 
You couldn’t stop the smile on your face as you felt a swirl of emotions in your chest. Tears streamed down your face at the thought that Steve was reunited with his friend and that Bucky was safe and free. Sniffing and rubbing your face you listened as he ranted about the last three weeks not interrupting as you waited until he mentioned him again. 
“He wants to meet you” Steve said anxiously, like he was scared of your reaction 
Your breath got stuck in your throat. Shame bloomed in your chest. You had given up on him and now he wants to meet you. Something that you settled on never happening. Your silence prompted Steve to continue. 
“He hasn’t stopped asking about you, you know. It killed him to know that you thought he didn’t want you” he said softly 
Your hand covered your mouth as you bit back a sob in your chest. 
“Ok” you whispered 
“Would you like to come by today?” Steve continued 
“If not I totally understand. It’s totally last minute and you probably have a million things to do. Just let me know what works best for-”
“Today is good for me” you said softly, still not believing that this is happening. 
“Thank God. You do not know that crap I would’ve gotten if I didn’t convince you” Steve joked lightly laughing anxiously. 
Your grip on the phone tightens as the anxiety begins rushing through your body. What if he didn’t want you. He saw you that day on the street. He knew you and knew you were his and still left. 
That wasn’t him. 
The memories of Steve’s voice soothing you. You breathed shakily as you listened to Steve try and send you the address of the tower through his flip phone. You could hear the noises of frustration from your side of the phone. 
“I know where the Avengers tower is” you emphasized ‘Avengers’ humorously. Moving to stand up you gripped the counter as you stood, your whole body was still shaky.  
Steve laughed awkwardly at that.
“That was kind of stupid of me huh? Well please let me know when you get here I am very excited to see you again” You could hear a voice in the background. 
“We are very excited to see you again” Steve’s voice was playful as he said goodbye and ended the call. 
You barely gave yourself time to think as you quickly brushed your teeth and untangled your hair. Making sure you didn’t smell like you had just thrown up everything in your body you grabbed your bag and keys and practically ran out of the house. 
The drive to Manhattan from D.C was long and backed up as people made their way into the city for work. The whole drive you made sure to keep the music louder than your thoughts cause you knew if you started spirally about seeing him you would send yourself into a panic attack. But nothing could prepare you for when you entered the city and could see the Avengers Tower towering over the surrounding buildings. Your heart began racing as you entered the parking lot below the floors of the tower. 
You tried to focus on your breathing to stop the panic attack but your breaths still came out short and shaky. With shaky hands you dialed a number on your phone and focused on the ringing instead of your racing heart. 
“Are you here?” Steve’s voice filtered through the phone. 
“I don’t think I can do this” You voice came out shakily as your tried not to let tears fall 
“I’ll be right there” You heard movements on the other side of the phone before you heard the phone click. 
You rested your head against the steering wheel counting up to four each time as you breathed. It only took 4 long breaths before you heard light tapping on the window. Your head whipped up to find Steve there looking at you with a soft smile. You turned off the car before opening the door and stepping out. 
“I’m sorry for calling you. I just didn’t know what to do” your voice wavering as your breathing worsened. 
You felt Steve lightly reach out and grab your arm in an act of reassurance. 
“Don't be, you did the right thing! That’s why you have my number remember” He laughed softly while smiling at you. 
You simply nodded, your breathing steadied as you felt your heart beat strongly in your chest. One final deep breath before Steve gestured if you were ready to continue. 
You walked with Steve as he rambled about certain aspects of the building why we passed them. You marveled at the technology and the grandeur of the tower but your mind was really only truly focused on one thing. 
Suddenly as you reached the top of the tower, Steve suddenly stopped and looked down at you. 
“Listen, just take it easy on him. He is here but he is not the same Bucky as I knew. Not yet” Steve’s voice wavered as he spoke. 
“Just give him a chance. Please” Desperation coating his voice. 
You simply reached out your hand and squeezed his, providing him the same reassurance he gave you. He paused for a second, giving you a soft smile before knocking on the door in front of you. 
You held your breath as the door opened slowly, revealing the same soldier you saw on the street just weeks ago. He wore none of the combat gear that you saw him in. Instead he was in a long sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans, he looked comfortable. You felt his stare long before you met his eyes. Which were now looking down at you softly. 
You let down a deep breath, your chest falling as you looked at him for the first time truly. His face held none of the hardness as the Winter Soldier. 
He looked human
He looked beautiful
Your mouth was wide open as you admired him which didn’t escape the notice of Steve as you heard a soft laugh beside you. Quickly regaining composure you shut your mouth and gave him a soft smile. 
“Hi” you said so softly it might as well have been a whisper. 
Bucky’s chest shuttered at the sound of your voice. He could not believe you were standing in front of him. You were the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on and you were all his. That was the most devastating news of all. He didn’t deserve you not in this world. Not in any of them. 
“Hi” his voice rocked through your body warming your cheeks. 
You looked down softly not wanting him to see. 
Suddenly a voice next to you broke your trance. 
“Guess you don’t have to worry about if she is a dog or cat person” Steve’s laugh filled the halls. 
Looking at him with a sideways look you realize as you look down at yourself. You didn’t bother changing from the outfit you would wear to the dog shelter. Dressed in black leggings and an oversized white tee with the words ‘I PET DOGS’ bolded with bright pink letters. 
Your cheeks deepened in color as you groaned at the realization covering your shirt by crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky looked down at you with a soft smile, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that made your heart throb. He was devastating to look at. 
“As much as I want all of this silence to continue. The team is expecting to meet you right about now” Steve said, checking his watch. 
You looked nervously between Bucky and Steve at the thought of meeting the infamous Avengers. You weren’t sure what they wanted to meet you for. Bucky said nothing as he stepped into the hallway moving to follow Steve to the living room. He waited for Steve to turn his back on the two of you until he gestured to you to walk alongside him. 
Your heart was beating out of your chest with anxiety. Between him and the team you’ve had enough for a lifetime. 
Suddenly you felt the cold bite of metal brushing against your fingertips. You straightened up at the feeling of glancing at your soulmate next to you who was looking at you with a weird look in his eyes. A mixture of comfort and affection that you thought you imagined as he eyed the door in front of you with a familiar coldness.
As you walked down the hall you chased that feeling of coldness. A warm feeling flowed through your chest which brought a small smile to your face that you weren’t ready to admit. 
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