#but then he asked me what i do for work and i explain i’m a teacher and then he starts telling ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strang3lov3 · 12 hours ago

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Honey-Do

“You’re gonna work on these every day. And I’m gonna check to make sure you did ‘em all, and if you did, you get to put a sticker down. And if we fill this sheet all the way up by the end of the week, I’ll make ya cum,” Joel explains. “That’s how you can earn back your privileges, Pumpkin.”

Tags - one shot, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, orgasm denial, ddlg dynamics, fingering, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, sneaking around with bad influence uncle tommyyyyy, joel jerks off, sex before dinner, angst + tension, spankings, rewards and punishments, elements of abuse, hurt/lots of comfort, pinky promises, dark. this is a work of fiction, and all characters are adults.

A/N - have I ever not delivered. here’s your uncle tommy fill, as promised. thank you to two anons who know who they are for helping with the creation of this fic, and thank you to my dear L for editing with me! anyway, it's been a minute but i'm happy to see you all :) hope you enjoy. i wrote this through a splitting headache so i'm going to chill now.

Your bedroom door clicks as Joel unlocks it from the other side, and the hinges groan and creak as he pushes it open. He looks at your figure lying in your bed, warm sunlight painting over your skin. Joel knows you’re not sleeping. You’re just lying in the quiet room, soaking up the sun like a kitten.

“Hi, kiddo,” Joel greets softly, smiling before taking long strides across the room to meet you. He’s stepping over your clothes and tripping on other odds and ends before he reaches you - you’ve been picking out your own clothes lately. Apparently you’ve been less than impressed with Joel’s sense of fashion. Ooohkay, he thought. You’re such a messy girl with the way you try on all of your clothes, then leave them all on the floor. Those, coupled with old, expired bottles of nail polish and lip gloss. Joel told you not to use those lip glosses, but they’re just pretty to look at sometimes.

“Jesus, girl. Fuckin’ room’s a pigsty,” he says, and he sits on the end of your bed, springs creaking with the shift in weight.

You ignore him. Joel leans over and kisses both of your cheeks and then your forehead, then your nose. “Don’t smile,” he teases, “Don’t you dare laugh.” And he repeats this, his facial hair tickling your skin, until you’re giggling and your eyes finally open.

“Ohh, there she is. Mornin’, Pumpkin,” Joel says, chuckling at the way you squint through the bright sunlight.

“Mmm…morning, D–” you’re interrupted by your own yawn, which makes Joel laugh. “Daddy.”

Joel pushes some hair out of your eyes. “Lazy ass,” he mumbles. “Listen, kiddo. M’on patrol today, so you’re gonna be home all alone. Y’gonna be alright?” he asks, softly stroking the skin on your cheek. “Gonna be a good girl?”

He wonders if he can trust you. If he can give you this inch, and you won’t take a mile. The doors and windows will stay locked, of course, but there’s other things he worries about. Joel knows you, you know. You’re never as sneaky as you think you are.

“Mhm. I’m always good, Daddy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Uh huh, fuckin’ smartass. You can make eggs an’ toast for breakfast, and there’s leftovers in the fridge for lunch. We’ll figure out supper later, hm? Maybe we’ll go to the cafeteria. See what they’re cookin’ up.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you smile.

“Good.” Joel pats his thighs and then stands up, knees popping loudly. “And I want you to clean all this shit up, alright? Didn’t raise ya to leave messes.”

You sigh heavily. “I know. I’ll do it.”

“Good girl.” Joel bends down and kisses your head one last time. “Eat all your lunch an’ have a good day. I love ya.”

You love days where you’re home alone. You used to hate it, and Joel wouldn’t let it happen a whole lot. You hated how lonely it felt, how quiet. You’d hear things go bump that weren’t there, and you’d feel just…nervous. Joel came home once and found you all scared and trembling, and he promised he’d be home with you as much as he could.

He made good on his promise. And you liked being home with him until you didn’t, until you found it suffocating and boring. Scary. Joel’s house went from being a quiet safe haven away from the horrors of the world to a sort of horror in and of itself. A Sisyphean loop, where nothing ever changes. And it never will, no matter how much you tug on your windows that are bolted shut, or yank on your door that only Joel can unlock. You can never leave.

You’d stare longingly out the window, hoping to go outside on your own. Just once, maybe. To go in the woods and wander, pick at strange flowers and plants and everything else. Just be alone. Joel grants you so much, and yet, you want so much more than that.

It makes you feel bad, if you’re being honest with yourself. You know what’s out there. What he saved you from. You know you’re safer with Joel, and you know everything he’s done to keep you safe and comfortable and happy. You’re in good hands with him, even if they’re hands that hurt you sometimes. Hit you. Spank you. Choke you. They’re still Joel’s hands, and they’re warm, right? And they love you.

He said when the weather warms up some more he’ll take you to the lake. You really hope he does.

You spend the day reading, drawing, watching birds and other critters that come by. Joel thinks it’s cute, the way you’ve named the chipmunks and squirrels that frequent his patio. How you recognize them like they’re your friends.

Joel tries to leave his bad mood away from home. He knows he’s got a habit of carrying it with him, and regrettably, taking it out on you. You take your moods out on him too, though. Not that it matters. He curses himself for even acknowledging the fact. He’s older, he’s wiser, he’s more patient. You’re not. He’s the parent, you’re the child. But when he comes home, you can tell it was a bad day. You can hear it in his footsteps and in the way he breathes, and it makes you tense. “Y’ready for dinner?” he asks, voice tired.

“Mhm.”

“Didn’t hear ya, kiddo. Speak up.”

“Mhm.”

“No, no mumblin’. Use your words and tell me, yes or no,” Joel demands, feeling his blood pressure begin to spike.

“Yes.”

Oh, you fucking…you. You’re always going to match Joel’s temper. You stare at him and he glares back, balling his fists before turning on his heel to get changed. You both need something to eat, before this goes from zero to one hundred.

But then Joel goes upstairs, and he walks past your bedroom and sees that nothing - nothing is picked up. He’s back downstairs before he even thinks it through. Before he showers and takes a moment to breathe, even.

“What’d I fuckin’ tell you?”

Your stomach drops at his tone. “What?”

“I asked ya to take care of your room, and I come home to see you’ve done fuck all.”

“I guess I just forgot, Daddy. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Joel scoffs, “Yeah, uh huh.” He pauses for a moment, then puts his hands on his hips. “We talked about this, Pumpkin.”

“Talked about what?” you ask, and it makes Joel fucking irate that you won’t turn your head to look at him.

“Look at me when you’re speakin’ t’me,” he barks, startling you. Looking at him from across the room, you can see he means business. Joel’s eyes are already dark to begin with, but they’ve gone black - so depthless and so endless that you can’t tell what’s behind them.

“You’ve been slackin’,” Joel says in a low tone, breathing heavily as he takes heavy steps toward you. “S’gettin’ old, kid.”

“I know, I just–”

“Jus’ what?”

You pick at your chipping, poorly-applied nail polish as you roll the answer around in your mind. “I don’t really want to do chores. I mean, I know my room is…but the other stuff, I–”

“Tough. You live under my roof, y’live under my rules.”

“Then it’s your roof, your mess.”

The words come out before you can even think about them. You press your lips together immediately, shrinking in your seat a little at the way Joel cocks his eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips. “Wanna try that again?” he asks, and you know what this is, what it is he’s doing: he’s giving you an out. And it’s awfully generous of him, considering. “Don’t make this a bad night,” he warns.

You pause this time, thinking about what you want to say next. I’m sorry, Daddy is that fucking close to rolling off of your lips when you notice that little wren sitting on the windowsill. She’s a frequent visitor, and Joel says she’s just like you. Fiery, assertive, sometimes. Vocal. A pistol.

She looks at you for a minute, then flies off. It sends a pang of longing through your heart, and perhaps even jealousy that that beautiful little bird can spread her wings and fly away and you…can’t. Not with the locked doors and windows, not while eternally existing under Joel’s fucking microscope.

“I didn’t ask to live here, Joel,” you bite.

“Oh, s’that’s how we’re doin’ this? This is how tonight’s gonna go?”

“Yeah.” You get up from your place on the couch and shove into Joel’s shoulder, but he shoves you right back down. He glares at you, and you glare back as hard as you fucking can. Staring at him like you wish you could fucking…you don’t even know. You’re blinded by the same rage and upset that Joel is at this moment, but without the agency to do one fucking thing about it. Joel, on the other hand.

He takes your jaw in his hand, squeezing your bones tight enough to bruise the soft flesh that covers them. When you jerk your head away, he squeezes tighter. “You don’t get to walk away from me,” he growls, leaning in close enough that you can feel his hot breath on your face. “I do a lot for ya. Done a lot for ya,” he says in a low tone.

“You never let me leave,” you argue. “You trap me.”

That gets Joel, wounds him a little. His face changes when you say that, before twisting back into something darker. “That’s what you think, huh? That I trap ya?”

You swallow thickly, then part your lips to speak. Joel cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “I keep you safe,” Joel whispers. “Fed. Happy. An’ all I ask is that you follow a few simple rules. That’s all. You wanna go back out there on your own, with the fuckin’ raiders and clickers, I can make that happen. Watch.”

Joel’s jaw ticks as he glares at you, fuming at the indignant little look on your fucking face. He could hit you right now, right across your cheek. Or maybe he’ll bend you over his knee and beat you until your ass is fucking raw and bleeding. That’ll teach you, that’ll fuckin’ teach you…

The anger flows through his veins like a fucking poison, and only when one of Joel’s knuckles crack, startling him, does he let your face go. He didn’t realize he was holding you so hard.

“I don’t like you,” you whisper.

Joel makes a face at the statement, then nods, because he’s heard it all before. It hurt the worst the first time you said it, but you came back to him crying, hours later when you’d had a nightmare and needed him. Not want - that wasn’t the word you picked. You said you needed him, Daddy, and you were so sorry. You didn’t mean it. You love him and you need him.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “M’not too keen on you either, right now, Pumpkin.”

The room is tense as you and Joel stare each other down, and neither of you budge until Joel tells you to go to your room and stay there. He tells you that you can forget going out to dinner, and you can stay in your bedroom until he feels like looking at your face again. You’re grounded, too - he doesn’t say from what. Now get out of his sight before he fucking hurts you.

You’re in your room forever, the hours alone spent alone passing like days. The sun went down forever ago, and you can’t stop yourself from crying. You held it together long enough downstairs while fighting with Joel but the moment you stepped foot into your room, you burst like a dam.

And it sucks to cry alone, to not have Joel there to hold you and wipe your tears. But is that what you’d want? Is that what would make it all better? Maybe. Joel has a special way of being your heaven and hell, all in one man. He’s both your nightmare and your solace after a bad dream. What are you supposed to make of that? What are you supposed to do other than cry like this?

You don’t bother wiping your tears when there’s a double knock at the door. “S’me,” Joel says. “M’comin’ in.”

You keep your back turned to him as he enters your bedroom with a plate and a glass of water, and he sets both down on your nightstand. “Went and grabbed some food. I gotcha…let’s see here. Chicken, mashed potatoes, corn.”

“Not hungry.”

“Not even for some pumpkin pie?” Joel asks, noticing the way your eyes widen at the mention. “Still your favorite, right?”

You pause. “No,” you answer, eventually.

“No?” Joel asks. “Hmm. Guess I’ll eat it myself. M’gonna get even fatter than I already am…this is a very unhealthy thing to do to your dear old man, y’know,” Joel says, cutting into the pie with the side of his fork, which scrapes against the ceramic plate. You flip over and sit up, and Joel feeds you the bite instead of eating it himself. “There she is,” he murmurs.

That’s how you got the nickname. Joel asked your name many times back in that cold, shitty cabin. You wouldn’t tell him. He understood, of course, and he told you his name anyway. You were always such a stubborn girl. For the life of him, Joel could not figure out why you wouldn’t come back to Jackson with him, why the hell you were so apprehensive about trusting him. Most people jump at the opportunity to stay in the cozy, warm settlement but…not you.

You were a tough nut to crack. It took a lot of time for you to trust Joel. He used to sit in that cabin with you while on his patrols - Tommy would show up sometimes, too. He’d just sit with you, talk a little, the way you’d do with a stray dog in a shelter. He’d bring you warm thermoses full of soup or tea and sandwiches for you to eat, and he was just patient.

And it was pumpkin pie that finally got you to come home with him. He brought you a slice one day, and you scarfed it down quickly and asked if he had more. “Nope,” he answered. “Gotta come back to Jackson f’ya want more. Got all the pumpkin pie you could eat.”

You mulled it over in your mind more than you ever had. And this was after weeks of Joel visiting you, bringing you food, sometimes dry wood to keep your fireplace warm. You didn’t trust him yet, but you didn’t…not trust him. And you really wanted that fucking pie.

It was your choice to live with Joel, too. When he brought you back, they offered to put you in a house with other girls around your age. Nope. You wanted to be with Joel. Somewhere deep down, you know you picked him to be yours before he picked you to be his. Doesn’t that make you a little responsible for where you are now?

“Yeah, alright, Pumpkin. I guess I could make some room for ya,” he winked.

“Breakin’ rules here,” Joel murmurs. “It goes dinner first, then dessert. Right?”

You ignore him as you swallow your bite. He’s only teasing. And besides, this is not a battle he wants to fight. At least you’re eating, anyway. Joel puts his hand on your knee and speaks softly, “I shouldn’t have gotten on your ass the way I did.”

“No. You shouldn’t have,” you snap, and Joel feeds you another bite of pie. You take the fork and eat the rest of the slice quickly, then lay back down and flip over.

His poor, sweet, tender-hearted girl. Don’t you know that attitude of yours is only gonna get you in trouble? Joel thinks it's just where you’re at in life - he thought he knew the world like the back of his hand when he was your age, too.

Joel turns your face and wipes your tear-stained cheeks, all swollen and raw. Eyes rimmed red as more tears well up, then spill down, back into your hairline. “Oh, sweetheart. What am I gonna do with ya?” he sighs, gently thumbing away those tears again. He wipes a few crumbs of pie crust from your lips, too.

You sniffle and shrug, avoiding his gaze. A hiccuping sob escapes your lips. “S'okay. Drink some water,” Joel tells you, pulling you upright. He gives you the glass, has you take a few sips, and he notices the way you look at his hand between your thighs. He notices your muscles twitching, eyes widening…knows exactly what you want as he rubs his thumb over the skin. Joel knows you want him to fuck you, to make you feel good, because you always feel better after he gets you off. Presses your little reset button. He’d reckon those pretty pink panties of yours are a little soaked, too. Poor thing. And isn’t this part of tonight’s problem?

You can’t get anything past Joel. You’ll never be able to.

“Daddy–”

“Not tonight, kiddo. Y’lost them privileges.”

“Please,” you beg. Joel takes your glass of water and sets it down on the nightstand.

“No,” Joel bites, pulling his hand away. He pulls your blankets over your shoulders, then turns off your lamp. “Daddy’s gonna have to think of a way for you to earn ‘em back.” He kisses you on the forehead, saddened by the way you turn away from him. “I love ya with my whole heart, Pumpkin, but you are gonna learn that there are consequences for your actions. Now get some sleep.”

Joel takes the glasses and checks to make sure the baby monitor is on, then leaves you. A night of sleep will be good for you both.

But it is a hard night, isn’t it? You spend the night tossing and turning - Joel can hear it on the tinny, crackling speakers of the receiver. He doesn’t rest any easier either, so he gets in the shower late at night. Maybe the distant noise of the running water will soothe you to sleep.

He washes his hair and his body, then grips his cock tightly in his fist. He strokes himself slowly, top to bottom and over and over again, building to a quicker pace in short time. “Ohh, Pumpkin,” he whispers, cumming over his knuckles. Joel rinses himself off and dries himself, then checks on you in your bedroom - you’re out like a light. Good. Fuck, he hates fighting with you.

In the morning, you tiptoe down the stairs, stopping first behind the wall to steal a peek at Joel before he sees you. He’s got breakfast made already - French toast, eggs, hash browns. You take your place at the table, yawning as you twirl a fork between your fingers. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. He serves you a large helping of breakfast, your Felix the cat cup is already filled with juice. “Sleep okay?” he asks, sitting next to you and serving himself.

You shrug.

“Yeah, me too,” Joel agrees. You and he eat in silence for a couple of minutes, the only sounds being the chirping birds and the cutlery scraping against the plates. Joel finishes his food before you do, and when he does, he gets up from the table. You watch him set his dish by the sink, then grab a couple of papers or something from the counter and bring them back to the table. “Been thinkin’ about how you can earn back your privileges,” Joel begins. Your attention is immediately caught by a few shiny, sparkly papers, decorated in little stars. “Stickers,” Joel explains, peeling one off and sticking it on your nose. “See?”

“Mhm.” You grab the packs of stickers, but Joel tugs them back.

“Ah, ah, ah. Can’t have those yet. You gotta earn ‘em.” Joel shows you a larger paper next, something he made and drew up himself. ‘Pumpkin’s Honey-Do List’.

“What’s honey-do?”

“S’a chore chart,” Joel explains. “Honey, do this for me. Honey, do that. Get it?” You nod. “We’re gonna use this chart to keep track of your chores, okay?”

Before you answer, you take some time to look over the chores Joel wants you to do. Sunday through Saturday Joel wants you to tidy your room every day. “Every day?” you whine, thinking of the enormous mess sitting in there right now. It’s gonna take for fucking ever to deal with all of that.

“Every day,” Joel answers. “F’ya stay on top of it, it’s not much of an issue. Been tryin’ to tell ya that, Pumpkin.”

The rest of the daily chores listed are no surprise. Do the dishes, set the table, make the bed, sweep. But there’s some new ones at the bottom of the chart - dust all the shelves and baseboards, wash the windows, mop. Joel explains that they only have to be done once at some point this week.

“You’re gonna work on these every day,” Joel says. “And I’m gonna check to make sure you did ‘em all, and if you did, you get to put a sticker down. And if we fill this sheet up by the end of the week, I’ll make ya feel good again. That’s how you can earn back your privileges.”

You think about it, looking over the chore chart. Joel’s all capital letter handwriting, and the silly pumpkins he drew at the top of the chart. “Hey, you,” Joel taps your arm. “We square?”

You still don’t know. You don’t know why you’re hesitant. You’re just…that’s just who you are. Stubborn, indignant. A rebel with a heart of gold.

“Psst. Take the fuckin’ deal, kiddo.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Joel holds out his fist, pinky finger extended. You wrap your pinky around his, and then he brings both his and your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckle.

You get started after breakfast, cleaning up your room while Joel takes care of some other stuff around the house. It’s not so bad when you have a goal in mind and a better attitude about the entire thing. It goes by quickly, too, and you feel better when your room is put back together. You don’t know why you let it get so bad. Maybe it’s reflective of your mood.

Dishes come next, and it’s made easier because Joel cleans as he cooks. It’s just a matter of washing and drying a few plates and forks and glasses, then putting them back into the cabinets. Sweeping comes after that, and then you’re done until dinner tonight when Joel needs the table set.

It is nice to walk through the house with him as he inspects your work. The concentrated frown on his face as he looks in your closet at all your clothes all hung up and folded neat, and the way it splits into a smile of approval. “Y’did good, kiddo,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. It takes you a moment to decide how exactly you want to place the stickers down, but you like doing it. It’s going to look so pretty when it’s filled in.

Tomorrow is the same, and the next day, and the next day. Joel does his walk throughs every evening, and then you do your stickers at the table. “Mm, doin’ some neat patterns there, I see,” Joel says gently.

“Mhm.”

“Very pretty, sweetheart. I’m so proud’a ya,” he smiles. “Couple more days, right? Finish strong.”

When you wake up on Friday, you feel excited. There’s really not much in your room to clean, not much to sweep around the house, not much of anything to do, really.

…Until Joel reminds you about the specials. “Ahem,” Joel says, pointing to the chores at the bottom of the chart. “These need’a get done, too.”

“Oh, fuck.” You cover your mouth before Joel has a chance to scold you. “Sorry.”

He makes a face at you, but he lets it go. If letting a dirty word slip is the worst thing you’ve done all week, then so be it. You probably picked it up from him, after all.

Joel quickly makes you a sandwich at the counter, then slices it in half and puts it in the fridge. That’ll be your lunch later. “Uncle Tommy’s coming by today,” Joel says. “But don’t think you can sweet talk him into helpin’ you with those chores, Pumpkin. This is still a punishment.”

“Mhm. I know, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel kisses you quickly on the cheek, then he’s out the door. “I love ya. Be home later.”

When Joel leaves, you go upstairs and shower, then pick out something to wear - just a pair of shorts and a tee, neither of which you particularly like, but that’s okay. You don’t want to dirty your favorite clothes. After checking your list, you get started with dusting first. You’ll work top to bottom, and then do the windows at the very end, per Joel’s suggestion.

Dusting is tedious. It’s tedious to take every little knickknack and tchotchke off the shelves, but you do like the way the wood sparkles after you wipe it clean. And it feels better, too. There’s a noticeable difference when you clean the place, like you’re washing away everything bad that’s built up over time and starting anew.

You pause cleaning briefly to eat the sandwich Joel made you, and then you’re back to cleaning, on your hands and knees as you wipe the baseboards. You still have some tall cabinets and shelves to dust, but you’ll figure that out later.

The back door opening startles you, and in comes Tommy, handsome as ever and smiling so big when he sees you. “Hiya, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Uncle Tommy,” you greet. You feel Tommy’s eyes on you as you dust, tracing over every inch of your figure. It’s awkward as you clean and Tommy stands there. You’re not exactly sure what he was sent here to do. Maybe he’s your babysitter or something.

He peruses the house, and you wonder what he’s thinking. You have a more difficult time reading him than you do Joel, though that doesn’t mean Joel is always easy to read, either. Tommy notices your chore chart and smirks at it. Good fucking god.

Baseboards are done now, so it’s time to finish those cabinets. You drag a chair over to the kitchen counters, but even with the added height, you can’t reach the tops. “Uncle Tommy?” you ask.

“Yeah, honey.”

“Do you know if Joel has a step stool or something around here?”

Tommy holds up a finger before he’s off to check for you. There’s nothing in the closet, nothing in the garage, either. “Don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Hmm…”

“Whatcha thinkin’?”

Joel would throttle you if he knew what you were about to do, but he’s the one who didn’t account for your inability to reach the tops of the cabinets he wants cleaned. You hoist yourself up onto the counter top with a rag in hand, wobbling as you stand up tall.

“Woah, woah, woah. Let me use the chair an’ I’ll get ‘em myself, darlin’,” Tommy says as he stands behind you, his fingers tapping against your legs as he gets ready to catch you. He gets a nice look up your shorts from this angle, too, llikes the lace on your panties. “Gonna crack your goddamn skull open, girl.”

“You’re not supposed to help me,” you tell him, frowning at how disgusting the tops of these cabinets are. “Ew.”

“Says who?”

“Daddy,” you answer.

“Ohhh. Daddy says so, huh?”

You sigh, “Yep.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Get down, honey. I don’t like ya up there like that.”

You know better than to argue with Uncle Tommy. He’s fun, sure. But he does have the authority to do whatever Joel does to you, too. Joel’s made it clear that when Tommy’s around, you are to listen and obey him the same as you listen to Joel himself. You turn around and bend down slowly, feeling nervous and unstable on your feet. “C’mere, sweet pea. I gotcha.” Tommy grabs your waist and steadies you, grunting as he helps you down.

“Can’t believe your old man’s gotcha doin’ all these chores without any music,” Tommy says. You shrug, and Tommy’s off toward the living room where Joel’s got a turntable and some vinyls. He puts them on every once in a while, but you’re not always into the music he picks.

Tommy puts on Jim Croce and does a little dance that makes you giggle. He wiggles his hips and snaps his fingers, biting down on his bottom lip. “Alright,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Let’s get to work.”

He takes the rag from your hand and stands on the chair, dusting the tops of the cabinets himself. “I appreciate this, Uncle Tommy, but you really shouldn’t…if Joel finds out–”

“You gonna tell on me, sweetheart?”

“N-no…” you mumble, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Then your daddy won’t find out,” Tommy replies.

He finishes the cabinets quickly, then gets off of his chair with a grunt. “Okay, darlin’. What else ya gotta do?”

“Uhmmm…” you trail off, mentally tallying the chores you’ve already done. With Tommy’s help, you’re just about finished. “Windows are last,” you tell him.

Tommy nods. He grabs a spray bottle from a closet as well as two squeegees, then hands you one. “You wanna do the outsides or the insides, sweetheart?”

“Insides,” you answer. “I’m not supposed to go outside without Joel.”

Tommy makes a real show of looking around, raising his eyebrows and squinting dramatically. “Funny, darlin’, I don’t see Joel anywhere,” he says, then pauses. “Why don’tcha wash the outsides and get some fresh air, honey?”

“Okay,” you smile. Tommy gives you the spray, then opens the door and tells you to meet him at the kitchen window. You feel exhilarated as you leave and round the house, loving the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. When you meet him on the other side of the window, he motions for you to spray yours down, which you do. Then Tommy opens the window and reaches for the spray, then shuts the window. You flinch when he squirts it at you, and laugh when it hits the glass and not yourself. Tommy winks, then squeegees his side of the window as you do the same.

He nods his head to motion to you to go to the next window, where you and he repeat the routine. You do the same with the next one and the one after that, and when you’re finished, you come back inside and rest on the couch.

“Think that means we’re ‘bout done, huh?”

“Yep,” you answer, then pause. “You won’t tell Joel, right?”

Tommy sits next to you and zips his lips. “M’not a narc, honey. So we get to put stickers on your chart now, don’t we?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Joel has to do a walk through,” you explain.

“Ahhhh,” Tommy nods, understanding. “So whatcha gettin’ for fillin’ in all the stickers?”

Your cheeks heat up at the question and you shy away from Tommy, which makes him laugh. You have no poker face at all.

“Uh huh,” Tommy winks. “Oh, I get it.”

You squirm in place a little, wondering if you should talk more about it. You kind of want to, honestly. Joel tells you that you can tell him anything, but you know you can’t. Not just anything. “It’s been a week,” you admit finally to Tommy, and immediately you feel relieved to have someone else to talk to about this. About Joel. “Well, almost. Tomorrow makes a week.”

Tommy scoffs. “Well shit, kiddo. Your old man’s a fuckin’ hard ass.” You shrug silently, and Tommy raises an eyebrow at you. “You can agree, y’know. Ain’t gonna hurt. An’ I won’t tell him if ya do, either.”

“A little,” you admit, quietly. But Tommy hears, and he smiles.

“Can’t go a day without it, myself,” Tommy tells you, stretching out on the couch a little. He rests his hand on your thigh, drawing little patterns down to your knee and back up again, patterns that make your skin tingle and make you feel funny inside. Nervous, excited…in almost the same way Joel makes you feel nervous and excited. But there’s an added layer here. You know you shouldn’t be letting Tommy do this to you.

“I think you should reward yourself, ‘f I’m bein’ honest. You did all your chores, after all. Right?”

“...yeah.” Uncle Tommy has a funny way of making the guilt in your belly disappear, if not for just a moment. It’s in the way he speaks and the words he chooses, and it’s in his sparkling brown eyes and his charming smile.

“Why don’tcha go to your room and take care of yourself, then? Hm?”

You shake your head. “Joel - Daddy says I’m not allowed to,” you reply.

“Ohh. Not allowed to do it by yourself.” Tommy clicks his tongue and turns his head toward you. “S’too goddamn bad. Joel’s gotcha on a short fuckin’ leash, don’t he?”

He slides his hand up your thigh, inching his pinky finger past your shorts. Tommy likes the way your breath hitches in your throat when he traces the thin, damp fabric of your panties with just his fingertip. Sensitive fuckin’ girl.

“And you’re really hurtin’ for it too, I can tell. A fuckin’ week, good lord,” Tommy whispers, then pauses before speaking again. “Well, I’d reckon you’re not doin’ nothin’ wrong by lettin’ Uncle Tommy make ya cum, huh?”

“I-” you stutter, “I really - I don’t know, Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy grins, his eyes so warm and so black, so endless. “Oh, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it in my book.” He wriggles his fingers up your shorts a little more, and slips them past your panties. That little gasp when he touches your lip, lightly teasing you there. Good lord.

“Then s’gonna be our little secret,” Tommy whispers. “Somethin’ special, jus’ for me and my sweet girl,” he says. “How ‘bout that, darlin’?”

You nod before the little voice in your head telling you not to do this becomes too loud. You can trust Tommy, right? He wouldn’t do anything to get you into trouble with Joel. And like he always says, what Joel doesn’t know won’t kill him.

You can’t ever pull one over on Joel, but you can try. And if Tommy’s right, and he probably is - you’ll succeed.

“Good girl,” says Tommy, pulling your body into his lap. He unbuttons your shorts and pushes them down your legs, then cups your pussy with his large hand. You sigh at the relief that comes with the pressure, resting against Tommy’s chest. “C’mere, honey. I gotcha.”

You spread your legs for him and he rubs you through your panties, just lazily at first, feeling you dampen the fabric. He traces your clit next, “Oh, fuck,” you moan, leaning into him. “More,” you gasp.

Tommy slides his hand under your panties, touching your bare heat. You’re so fucking warm and so fucking wet, with that pool of arousal he’s created. And it didn’t take much, did it? No, no. Of course not, not when you’ve been starving for it for so long. Longer than a week, too. Tommy knows the way you look at him and what goes on in that head of yours. And if he were a betting man, he’d bet that when you do summon the courage to get yourself off on your own fingers, despite Joel’s rule, that you’re thinking of him. Maybe not every time, but enough.

“Uncle Tommy,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as you arch into his touch. You rock your hips as he circles your clit, reaching for his thick bicep. You hold him tightly, whimpering, “Oh my god.”

“Y’wanna hold onto me?” Tommy chuckles quietly, rubbing you slowly. “You can hold onto me, sweet pea. M’not goin’ nowhere. Jus’ you and me right now, sweet girl.”

He’s so warm, and he smells so fucking good. It’s nice to be in a pair of arms that are safe and dangerous, but different from Joel’s safe and dangerous. You watch yourself in the freshly cleaned windows, all wrecked as Tommy pleasures you.

He’s sliding his fingers down your seam next, then pushing two into your entrance. And it’s when he curls them rhythmically, looking for that special, sweet little place deep inside you, that you really start to moan. “Relax,” Tommy whispers, squeezing you tightly. “Hold still, honey. Be good.”

Tommy shifts the positions a bit so he can rub your clit with his other hand while fucking you on his fingers. It’s not long before release is right around the corner, with all of that hot, sparkling pleasure blooming deep in your gut. Your thighs begin to shake and twitch, “You cum nice for me now,” he whispers. “Show Uncle Tommy how hard you can cum.”

And that’s all it takes for you to fall apart, crying out loudly as he fucks you through your orgasm. Tommy doesn’t let up until you’re a shuddering, gasping mess, until he’s made certain that your needs have been met. A goddamn week, he thinks. That’s fucking ridiculous.

“You cum so pretty, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers, pulling his fingers away from your cunt. They’re all shiny and drenched in your arousal, and he brings them to his lips and sucks them clean. He pats you twice and you get up and off of him, all shy and bashful as he stands up and stretches, his rock-hard erection bulging through his denim. “Fuck, look whatcha do t’me,” he groans, pressing his palm against it. “I’m off, kiddo. Gonna let me leave without a hug and a kiss?” he asks.

You wrap your arms around his thick middle quickly, perhaps needing the hug more than Tommy even does. You kiss his cheek, and Tommy squeezes your ass. “Alright. Keep outta trouble, honey. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

A few hours later, Joel’s barely got a foot in the door before you’re taking him by the hand and leading him through the house, showing him how well you cleaned everything. “Jesus, girl. Can’t a man eat dinner first?”

“No,” you answer. “Look at the windows.”

Joel laughs, “I know, I see ‘em, Pumpkin. They’re sparklin’.”

“And the baseboards–”

“Are nice and dusted, I see it all, sweetheart. You did good. Wanna go get your stickers?”

You show Joel that you’ve already got your stickers and your chart in hand. “Go ‘head and put ‘em on then, honey. Y’did good,” Joel says, then pauses as you put the rest of the stickers down. The only one that’s missing is dishes and table setting for today, but that’s because it hasn’t been done yet. Joel tells you he trusts you, and you can put the stickers down anyway. “And you did do it all by yourself, right, Pumpkin?”

“Mhm,” you lie.

“An’ if I ask Uncle Tommy if he helped, what’s he gonna tell me?”

“No,” you lie again.

“Good answer,” Joel replies, then pauses. “Did you play with yourself this week?” he asks.

“No.”

“Promise?” Joel asks. “Did anyone else play with ya?”

“Nope,” you tell him. Joel smiles, then kisses you on the head and sits down on the couch as you admire your chart. You join him on the couch, sliding onto his lap instead of taking your usual place right next to him.

“Hey, you,” Joel smiles. “What’re you makin’ me for dinner, hm?”

You shrug. “I’m not even hungry,” you tell Joel, and he makes a face.

“Sure you’re not.”

You think you know what that means, what he’s doing. He’s deliberately quiet, waiting for you to ask for what you want. But you say nothing as you sit on his lap, eyes wide as you wait and wait and wait for what you’ve earned, squirming on his lap a little. “Whatcha so squirrely for?” he asks finally.

“You know, Daddy.”

“Mmm. Don’t think I do,” Joel drawls. “M’not a mind reader, Pumpkin.”

But you’re too shy to say it out loud. So you take Joel’s hand and stand up, yanking him with you. He groans as he stands up, knees cracking. You hold his hand as you lead him toward the stairwell, “Where ya takin’ me?” he asks.

“Mmmuhno,” you mumble, walking up the stairs with Joel trailing behind.

“You dunno, huh?” he teases, amused as you take him towards his room. “Mmm, Daddy’s room. Okay,” he sighs dramatically. “Guess it’s bedtime, since Pumpkin says so. And I was gonna let ya stay up an’ everything, but alright.”

You’re such a quiet, shy girl as you sit on the end of Joel’s bed, swinging your feet as he undresses himself. You pull at a string on your shorts, waiting for Joel to get the hint. You’re sure he does, but he’s just dragging this out, the same way you are, really.

Joel, standing naked except for his boxers, turns to you. “Y’look like you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart.”

“Mm-mm,” you lie, unable to hide the smile that makes your lips curl up.

“Oh, I think ya do. Wanna tell me what it is?” Joel asks.

Finally, you relent. “Did I earn back my privileges?” you ask, biting down on your smile.

Joel chuckles. “Was wonderin’ when you’d ask,” he says, leaning in close. He puts both of his hands on your knees, squeezing you there. “Yes. You earned ‘em back, Pumpkin.”

You hum in delight and smile so big, then whisper something in Joel’s ear. “Well lie on down, then,” Joel murmurs. “You know what to do.”

It takes no time at all for you to take off your clothes and lie on Joel’s bed completely naked, legs folded in half and swaying side to side as you wait for that inevitable dip in the mattress that comes from Joel settling between your thighs. It arrives all in good time, and Joel spreads you wide so he can devour you alive.

He pushes your knees toward your chest and wears a crooked smirk at how anxious you look, ready for him to start. You’re wiggling your fingers, fidgeting with his comforter. Joel teases you with a couple of kisses pressed against your knees and your inner thighs. “Daddy,” you whine, pushing your hips toward his face.

“Oh, I know, I know,” Joel murmurs, quieting your whines with a kiss to your pussy. “Iiii know, sweet baby girl.” He licks you from bottom to top with his tongue flattened, dragging it slowly through your slick folds. And Christ, how swollen you are - poor thing. But you did it to yourself, didn’t you?

“I am so–” Joel interrupts himself to suck on your clit a little, “So proud of you, Pumpkin,” he says, “My girl. You did so good for me, baby.”

His beard tickles your inner thighs as he kisses you all over, then goes back to your clit. He circles it a few times with his tongue, then licks lower, burying his tongue in your soft, dripping entrance. You reach for his beautiful aquiline nose as he fucks you on his tongue, drawing up that gorgeous slope and past his forehead, tangling your fingers in his curly, graying hair.

“Daddy,” you moan, whimpering for Joel as he drags his tongue back up and down your folds. He builds a rhythmic pace then, circling your clit repeatedly, all while allowing you to rock and grind against his face. He guides you orgasm quickly, savoring the way you gush into his mouth, your clit throbbing beneath his tongue.

You’re fucking soaked, a mess of both Joel and yourself. Joel shoves his boxers down his thighs, erection springing against his soft tummy, and swipes his fingers through your folds. He collects your arousal on his hand, then uses it to coat his hard length. “Ready?” he asks, hovering over you.

“Mhm.”

“Y’wanna help Daddy put it in?”

You nod quickly. Joel knows you like to have some semblance of control over the pace at which he enters you, so he likes to grant you that. Not always, though. Sometimes he’ll split you in half just to remind you of who’s in charge here, usually when you get a little mouthy or something like that.

You take Joel’s cock in your hand, tracing the bulbous head and the veins that climb up the shaft. You tilt your hips and drag him through your folds, sighing softly at the way you tease yourself.

“You’re killin’ me here, kid,” Joel grunts, taking your wrist in his hand to stop you.

“Sorry.”

“S’all good, baby.”

You notch his tip at your entrance. “Your turn, Daddy,” you tell Joel softly.

And in he goes. He slides into you slowly, filling you with the entirety of his length. “Ohh, big stretch. Attagirl,” he praises, grunting as he bottoms out.

It always takes you a minute to get used to him. You do your little routine, make your little faces as you squirm and get used to his cock stretching you out, and when you’re ready, Joel begins to move. “Watch,” he says. “Look, look. Wanna show you something,” Joel tells you softly. You lift your head as he pulls out, his thick length all coated in your arousal. “Ain’t that somethin’?”

“Yeah,” you agree, letting your head fall back again. Joel braces himself on his forearm as he thrusts back into you, building to a slow pace. He’s in no rush, really, not when he’s sliding his big hand up your waist and over your ribcage and squeezes you there. He could crush you, you know. His delicate girl. He could do it.

Joel bends down and skims his mouth and the tip of his nose over your breasts, taking time to wrap his lips around both of your nipples. He loves you so much, the elegant, gentle shapes of your body. All of those curves, all for him.

The special way he fucks you - nothing comes close to this. No matter what, good day or bad, this will always be yours and Joel’s to savor.

His cock is dragging against your g-spot, his pubic hair grinding against your clit. It’s all becoming too much, too sensitive for you to even cum. But Joel tells you to anyway. “Can’t, Daddy,” you whimper.

“Sure ya can,” Joel says. “S’been a week, honey. I know you’re needin’ it.”

But are you, though? Not really, when Tommy took your punishment and reward into his own hands and made good and sure that you were well satiated before he left. And with the orgasm Joel pulled from you using his tongue, well.

“One more, nice and big,” Joel encourages. “Show your daddy how hard you can cum on his cock, huh?”

Funny. Didn’t Tommy say the same thing?

Joel rubs your clit in practiced circles, coaxing along your release as he thrusts into you harder, faster, and deeper. And then it’s happening, and Joel’s name is spilling from your lips in breathy moans as you cum so hard on his cock, feeling indescribably full as your pussy pulses around him. It’s such a weighted, overwhelming feeling, and it washes over you in wave after wave. “Oh, baby girl.” Joel’s right behind you, breathing your name as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting rope after rope of his cum. “Take it nice an’ deep f’me,” he says, and like the most perfect girl you are, you take it all.

Joel pulls out of you, not worried about the cum that spills on his comforter. It’s seen better days anyway, he thinks.

After you both come down, Joel breaks the silence. “Think we should redo our date?” he asks, still breathing heavily.

“Yes,” you answer.

“I think so too,” he says. “Go pick somethin’ pretty to wear, and meet me in the shower to get cleaned up. Maybe we’ll see Uncle Tommy there or somethin’ too, huh?”

more dark daddy!joel here

anyway, i love ya. thank you for reading ♡ please dirty talk me in my inbox and reblog, because your words go a very long way in keeping me motivated to write. wouldn't be doin' this without ya.

aaaand the cat tax. remember that when it takes me a while to publish a fic, THIS IS WHO IS MAKING IT DIFFICULT TO DO SO!! okay!! do you see this! he's sitting on my arm like a fuck. fricken gizmo.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller smut #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x reader smut #Tommy miller smut #joel miller #tommy miller #dd!joel #dark daddy!joel #uncle tommy #dark!joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #tommy miller/reader #tommy miller/you #tlou joel #tlou hbo #tlou fanfic

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jobean12-blog · 3 days ago

Text

Midnight Confessions

Light SPOILERS ahead!!!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: A late night gives you the opportunity to flirt with Bucky and the next night he comes right back for more.

Author's Note: There are some Thunderbolts spoilers here- none really story related so much but more character driven. So reader BEWARE :D I had fun writing all the ridiculous dialogue in the beginning and it's a bit chaotic but I hope it makes you smile! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun and fluff, flirtiness, tension, sweetness

You set the timer and place it on the counter, leaning back with a sigh. While it seems everyone else in the tower is asleep, you’re as wide awake as the bustling city below. This is the second batch of cookies you’ve made this week, but no one seems to be complaining.

After contemplating something on the TV you decide instead to read, hoping it will make you sleepy.

No such luck and just as you’re starting the next chapter you see a dark shadow at the entrance of the kitchen, you’re body stiffening.

“It’s just me doll.”

At the sound of Bucky’s voice, you instantly relax.

“Jeez you’re quiet,” you whisper.

He chuckles lightly and steps into the kitchen. His hair is slightly mussed as if he’s been running a hand through it and his tee shirt clings to the broad lines of his chest and toned biceps. With a hard swallow you let your eyes drop lower, to the way his pants sit low on his waist but still hug his thighs.

“Can’t sleep?” you squeak out, dragging your gaze back to his face.

He shakes his head no and moves closer, revealing a surprise. The guinea pig Yelena rescued from the lab sits atop his left shoulder, tucked close to his neck and partially hidden by his hair.

You sit up with a gasp and rush over to him, cooing quietly and without a word plucking the piglet from his shoulder.

“What are you doing up?” you ask the guinea pig in a sweet voice.

“I probably should have let him sleep but as soon as I made noise he started squeakin’.”

You look up at Bucky and notice his soft expression as he watches you with the guinea pig.

“It’s a boy?” you ask.

“Actually, I don’t know,” he replies.

“Hmm,” you say as you pet it’s soft fur. “I bet it’s a girl.”

“That works too,” he smiles. “Are you making cookies?”

“I am…they should be out…,” and you walk over to the timer, “in three minutes.”

“Great doll. I could use a snack!” He slowly rubs his stomach as he stretches, revealing the dark trail of hair that disappears enticingly into his sweats.

The guinea pig squeaks and draws your attention away before he catches you staring.

“She needs a name,” you state as you cradle her in your arm.

Bucky is silent for a moment before he blurts out, “Cookie.”

“That’s cute,” you giggle, “but I think you’re just hungry.”

He doesn’t disagree and keeps thinking.

“She’s brown and white so…BACON!”

You stop petting the piglet and narrow your eyes at Bucky.

He holds his hands up in surrender, but you can see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners as he tries to hold back a smile.

“Are you going to wash the dishes?”

Bob’s voice is so low you almost don’t hear it but Bucky spins around at the sound.

“Bob!” both you and Bucky exclaim.

“What’s going on in here?” Bob asks as he looks between you and Bucky.

“We can’t sleep, and I made cookies,” you explain.

“And we’re trying to give the guinea pig a name,” Bucky adds.

“Ok,” Bob says. “I’m going to wash the dishes.”

“Do you want help?” you ask him. “I can dry the bowls.”

“Sure,” Bob says.

You hand the guinea pig back to Bucky. “Don’t get comfy. I want her back when I’m done.”

“Anything you want doll,” he says with a wink.

“How about Piglet?” Bob chimes from the sink.

“Like in Winnie the Pooh?” you ask as you slide up next to him and take the first bowl to dry it.

“Yeah…she’s kinda tiny…,” Bob says.

“So, you think she’s a girl too!” you say happily. “Bucky was calling it a he.”

“Not because I don’t think it could be a girl…I just…said he first.”

“It’s a girl,” Yelena says as she walks in.

“See! I knew it!” you sing song.

“What is going on here?” Yelena asks.

“None of us could sleep,” Bob answers. “So, we’re making cookies, washing dishes and naming the guinea pig.”

“Are the cookies ready yet?” Yelena asks, eyeing the oven.

“Just about,” you answer.

“Bob suggested Piglet…but I like Bacon,” Bucky says to fill Yelena in.

“Of course you would say Bacon,” she tsks. “I like Piglet.”

“Do I smell cookies?”

Walker strides in and heads straight for the oven.

“HEY Walker,” you whisper shout. “They’ll be out in a minute.”

He stops and plops himself down on a stool at the island with a huff.

“Why didn’t anyone invite me to the party?” he says.

“Because you’re an asshole,” but you and Yelena chime simultaneously but not without a smile pulling at each of your mouths.

“Can I least have some cookies,” Walker asks.

“Of course,” you tell him.

“Why don’t you name the pig, Hamlet,” Walker adds.

Everyone is quiet for a minute and tries to hide their smiles. “Actually, that’s cute,” you say, “but we’ve decided it’s a girl so maybe something…more…girly.”

Walker rests his chin in his hands but remains silent.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Ava says, appearing from the other side of the wall.

Bob startles at the sink and Walker rolls his eyes.

“No one can sleep, we are about to eat cookies, and we need a name for our girl guinea pig,” Yelena sums up quickly before opening the oven just as the timer dings.

“Pipsqueak,” Ava says flatly.

Yelena smiles. “I like that. She does squeak…a lot.”

“But she’s brave,” Bob says. “She survived the lab. I wouldn’t call her a pipsqueak.”

“But Piglet is scared of everything isn’t he?” Bucky muses. “So that wouldn’t work either.”

“Oh,” Bob sighs. “Yeah, he is.”

“Still like Bacon,” Bucky mumbles to himself.

“WHO SAID BACON?” Alexei booms when he walks in. “We eat?”

Yelena hangs her head with a sigh and Ava rolls her eyes.

“No bacon,” Bucky says sadly. “But we have cookies.”

“Hm, that will do,” Alexei says as he walks over to Yelena and pulls out the hot tray with his hand.

“You should let them cool,” you say to Alexei as he goes to grab for one.

“No, no…I like them all gooey and melted and messy…” He pops half the cookie in his mouth and hums happily.

Bucky slides over; the guinea pig nestled in the crook of his metal arm as he grabs for a cookie.

Walker reaches over the island to grab his own.

“They’re still hot guys!” you scold but give up with a sigh when half the tray is gone in under a minute. “You better grab one,” you whisper to Bob.

He turns from the sink and wipes his hand, reaching for a cookie and placing it on a napkin near him. “I’ll let mine cool,” he says with a small smile.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence and lots of mumbled praises over the cookies, you ask, “so what are we naming the guinea pig?”

Alexei yells out, “ALEXEI!”

Everyone answers with a determined, “NO!”

Alexei deflates and takes another cookie.

“So far we ruled out all the suggestions,” you say, leaning back on the counter next to Bucky.

Without prompting he hands you the guinea pig. You gently hold her up and look her over.

“I have so many ideas but none of them seem to fit,” you huff.

“All mine are related to food,” Bucky shrugs.

“I still like Alexei,” Alexei grumbles.

“Hamlet isn’t girly enough,” Walker says.

“Piglet and Pipsqueak make her sound too timid,” Ava adds.

Finally, Yelena says, “what about Nat?”

All eyes turn to her, soft with unspoken words.

“That’s perfect,” you say quietly and everyone agrees.

Once the few remaining cookies are packed away and the kitchen is clean you walk over to Bucky who’s leaning against the wall, Nat once again cradled against his chest in the crook of his metal arm.

“She likes that spot,” you say quietly as you gently stroke her back.

“Yeah, maybe because it’s cool,” he says and then softly touches her nose as it twitches.

You watch him for a moment, so sweet and gentle with the little furball.

“You’re so cute,” you say softly.

“She is right,” Bucky agrees.

“She meant you super soldier,” Alexei chuckles from behind you. “Not pig.”

“She’s a guinea pig Dad,” Yelena dead pans.

Alexei waves his had dismissively. “All same.”

Your eyes meet Bucky’s, and you see the tops of his cheeks, just above all the dark stubble lining them, turn light pink.

“You meant little Nat right?” he asks.

“She definitely meant the guinea pig,” Walker says with a yawn as he walks by. “I’m goin’ to bed.”

Ava follows close behind him. “Me too. And she meant you Barnes.”

Alexei slaps Bucky hard on the back, jostling Nat in his arms and Bucky glares.

“Oh. Right, sorry,” Alexei mumbles then smiles wide. “She thinks you are cute.”

He walks away rubbing his stomach.

Only Yelena and Bob remain, Yelena with a smirk lifting her lips and Bob with wide eyes.

Your eyes stay on Bucky, and you lean in closer, still petting Nat. “No. I meant you. You’re really cute. Especially with her. It’s sweet.”

“She said he’s cute,” Bob whispers to Yelena who’s full on smiling now.

“Da,” Yelena nods, grabbing Bob’s arm to pull him down the hall.

“Does she like him?” Bob asks as he passes by you and Bucky.

Yelena laughs but doesn’t answer and keeps tugging him away.

The two of you are now alone and you watch Bucky’s gaze quickly drop to your lips before he says a quiet, “thanks.”

“Hope you can get some sleep,” you tell him then kiss his cheek. “Night.”

“Night, doll,” he whispers as he watches you walk to your room.

The next night when you’re still awake after midnight you head to the common room but when you don’t see a sign of anyone else you decide to go watch a movie until you fall asleep. The light knock on your door an hour later surprises you and when you open it to find Bucky on the other side you’re even more surprised.

“I didn’t wake you did I doll?” he asks in a rush.

“No, don’t worry. I was watching a movie.”

“I thought I saw light under the door so I figured you might still be up.”

“Did you want more cookies? The leftovers are in the cabinet.”

“Actually…Alexei ate them all. I checked…”

You snort laugh and grab Bucky’s hand, pulling him through the doorway.

“Of course he did,” you say as you plop down on the small couch.

Bucky follows and then stands there as if he’s unsure what to do next.

“You can sit,” you tell him.

He does.

“Are you watching The Goonies?”

“I am!” you say excitedly. “I’m so glad you’ve seen it.”

“Classic 80s.”

“Exactly,” you agree.

You settle back into the cushions and let your shoulder brush his. As the movie continues your body relaxes against him and he lifts his arm to rest it along the back of the couch. His fingers brush your shoulder and when he feels your skin pebble beneath his touch he does it again. Your breath catches in your throat and you audibly swallow.

The movie ends and you’re still pressed against him, his arm now circling your shoulders as his fingertips ghost over your skin.

“That’s one of my favorites,” you say and turn to meet his eyes.

“Mine too,” he whispers, curling his fingers around your arm so you turn your body into his.

His eyes wander over your face, their soft reverence only sharpened when they stop on your lips.

“Doll…I…”

Whatever he wants to say is lost in the moment and he presses his mouth to yours, softly at first, but when you slide your fingers into his hair and tug him closer, he hums low in his chest and deepens it, parting your lips.

His knuckles skim down your arm before splaying at your back and pulling you into his lap. His hand slips under your shirt, every caress of his fingertips slow and teasing as if he’s savoring every moment and committing it to memory. His kisses are sweet and languid and the hair lining his face scratches the soft column of your neck as his lips trail downward to your hammering pulse.

A deep and satisfied hum rumbles through his chest and you press yourself closer, feeling the hard lines of his muscle beneath his shirt.

“Bucky,” you whimper.

He lifts his head to stare at you, his breathing fast. His metal thumb lifts to trace your swollen bottom lip before he slides it behind your neck and brings your lips back to his, nibbling the same spot then soothing it with his tongue.

You moan into his mouth and the sound snaps what little control he’s holding on to and suddenly you’re flipped to your back, your wrists in his metal hand and pinned above your head. His eyes teasingly trail over your body, and you go pliant in his hold, your legs falling open as he settles between them.

He leans down, dipping his head to run his nose along your neck, breathing you in before his lips are on yours again.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, his hand releasing your wrists and sliding lower to stroke your curves. “I knew you would be.”

“You’ve thought about it?” you ask as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, licking his lips. “I came over here with the intention to ask you out on a date…”

“Is this not…?”

He cuts you off. “This is exactly what I want…you’re what I want. I’m just…trying to be a gentleman.”

Your lips form an O shape, and he kisses you again.

“I’ll go on a date with you Bucky,” you murmur between kisses.

“Good, that’s good,” he says, his warm hands continuing their exploration of your body while his lips trail down your neck.

You arch into him and slide your hands from his hair down his back, scraping lightly with your nails.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

When his eyes lift to yours he wears a pained expression.

“A gentleman,” he repeats.

“Right. A date,” you say.

“Fuck,” he mutters again but doesn’t move an inch.

You stare at each other, the tension building in the small space between you before he dips his head and kisses you again. His lips find the spot just below your ear and he whispers, “if you don’t tell me to go now…”

“I don’t want you to go Bucky. I want you to stay. I want you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #thunderbolts #the new avengers #sebastian stan

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dragonsondragons · 1 day ago

Text

Self Care - Jack Abbot x Resident!Reader

Summary: Jack’s new girlfriend takes self care really seriously given the line of work they’re in. He starts to observe these habits and some of them rub off on him.

Tags: Super fluffy, no use of y/n, implied age gap, suggested sexual activity, no real smut just Jack feeling you up a little, beekeeper!Jack

Author’s Note: Why am I obsessed with beekeeper!jack. There may be more where this came from because I had so much fun with this one– perhaps Jack and reader gardening (wink wink) while in their garden? Leads to sweet and slow stoned sex? Let me know what you think or if you have any requests! I’m always looking for more ideas.

You do your little stretching routine after you wake up and you ask him if he wants to join you. He gives it a try, reluctantly at first. Then he starts to realize how good it makes him feel and does it with you every time.

“What's this pep in your step you got going on here, brother?” Robby notices one day at hand-off. “Something to do with your favorite resident? Or should I say…new lady friend,” he does a little jazz hands.

“I regret ever telling you about us,” Jack rolls his eyes at lady friend. “But yeah, actually. She’s got me stretching when we wake up,” he explains.

“Ah. She’s got you whipped is what you mean.”

Jack chuckles under his breath. “Fuck off, stretching is good for you. And being whipped isn’t so bad either.” ____

You have a little garden that you tend to in the morning as the sun’s still rising right when you get off shift. It's cathartic, to take care of something that can't puke or bleed on you. Can’t punch you in the face.

Both you and Jack had worked last night and it was a tough one. One of those nights where it felt like you lost more than you saved. You asked Jack to come back to your place after the shift ended, just wanting to be near him after your hell of a day.

It was still early in your relationship, you had only spent the night at Jack’s place. This was his first time coming to stay at yours.

You could tell he was so exhausted that you offered to drive home and he eventually accepted. He sat in the passenger seat of his Tacoma with his eyes closed as you drove, envisioning a shower, you looking soft in a ratty old t-shirt, and eating take out on the couch before going to sleep.

Instead, after you made two mugs of tea and set one before him on the coffee table, you headed to the backyard, slipping through the sliding glass door with a quiet “be right back, have to take care of some stuff real quick.”

After you’re gone more than 10 minutes and he almost dozed off twice, he started to wonder what this stuff was. He peeks out the glass door, seeing you knelt down at the edge of a garden bed peeling weeds out of the ground around your plants. The garden hose was on, filling up a big watering can to your left.

He comes to stand next to your kneeling form, placing a tender hand on the crown of your head and lightly running his fingers through your hair. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Checking on the plants. It helps me clear my mind from the day.” You smile softly up at him, see his free hand rub at his weary eyes. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower, I’ll be right in," you promise. He nods, turns to head back inside.

He couldn’t believe you wanted to be pulling weeds and lugging watering cans after a shift. But when you trailed in a few minutes later, joining him under the spray of the water, he could see the way your shoulders were looser. You were more peaceful, at ease. It made him feel more calm too, just knowing you felt a little bit better.

He started lugging bags of soil for you the following mornings. Dug up trenches to lay a new irrigation system for the crops. This time of spring brought so many birds tweeting around in the morning air, the perfect sound track to your calming moments together in the garden.

It was a peaceful endeavor, one Jack never thought he would find himself doing but turns out he absolutely loves it. After you tell him about the benefits of pollinators he really wants to start keeping bees (Jack Abbot is beekeeping age). He does all this research about it to make sure he doesn’t fuck with the bees, wants to do it right. Gets the whole mesh suit which you can't stop laughing at the first time he puts it on. Names his hive Beetopia. He's serious about these bees and you find it so endearing. You love that he's meshing into your life like this, making his own niche in something you both do together.

Sometimes when there isn’t much to be done he’ll make breakfast while you tend to the garden. He will always try to utilize the fruits and vegetables you grow as well as his self-harvested honey whenever he can. You eat it out on the patio, admiring the work the two of you have done. Your own little paradise. ____

Out of all the self care tactics that you have brought into his life, the bubble bath is definitely one of his sleeper favorites. His house had a huge bathtub in it that he never once used. One of the first times you stayed over, you went to use the bathroom before going to bed. His eyes were already closed when he heard you squeal in the en suite attached to his room.

“How did you not tell me about this!” you yelled out to him.

“What, the bathroom?” he responded half asleep and confused. You came back into the room and jumped into the bed next to him, resting your chin on his chest. He peeked his eyes open as he rubbed up and down your back.

“No! That massive tub, genius!” He was surprised. Hadn’t thought once about that thing since he moved in.

“You like it?”

“I don't like it, Jack. I love it. Baths are so soothing and rejuvenating. I always feel like a newborn baby when I get out of the bath. And I don't have a tub at my place.”

“You’re welcome to use it anytime you want, honey.” He shifted you to your side, cuddling into you and kissing your cheek.

“You’re too good to me. And as a reward I’m making you get in there with me.” he lets out a breath of a laugh as he drifts off to sleep with you in his arms. ___

You both had the next day off, for once. So there was no time like the present to christen Jack’s bathtub. He was nervous about getting in, not being able to wear his prosthetic to keep him stable, but you got in first and held onto him tight as he stepped over the edge and eased himself down into the water. You settled in front of him, letting out a breath as you melted back into him.

You thought you liked baths already, but this was pure bliss. His strong body against you, your breaths synching up. He washed your hair and you washed his. The warm water soothed his achy back and the overcompensating muscles in his leg.

Safe to say, baths become a regular occurrence for you two.

You get him a matching fluffy robe with a hood because one time he said he was jealous of how cozy you looked in yours after a bath. Once, Shen stopped by to drop off the butterfly portable ultrasound that he had borrowed and Jack answered the door in said robe.

Jack had his stoic work face on, the grumpiness only enhanced by the fact that Shen’s visit was interrupting his time with you.

“Ha, you look like a Sith, Abbot,” Shen teased him, butterfly in one hand and a half drank Dunkin’ in the other. “Robe’d up and about to cut my hand off.” He took a loud sip of his coffee as Jack just glared at him.

“Get out of here before I actually consider it.” He tugged the Butterfly from Shen’s grasp, about to slam the door in his face.

“Oh c'mon Jack, that’s not very nice.” You ran up to the door and opened it further to reveal yourself.

“Sorry John, he didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah right.” He takes in your appearance beside Jack, wearing the same exact fuzzy robe. “Like the matchy matchy, very cute you two.” Shen pulls out his phone and snaps a picture before either of you could even process it. “That’s totally going in the group chat, dude,” he laughed.

“Not making a good case for yourself here,” Jack muttered. Shen couldnt stop laughing, and at that you moved your hand off the door jamb and let Jack slam it shut.

He turned to you then and let out a little chuckle at the whole ordeal. “He’s a piece of work.”

“Thought he was your favorite resident?”

“No, you're my favorite resident.” ___

Besides stretching to start the day on a good note, taking soothing baths, and tending to your garden you also do yoga sometimes to turn your mind off and tune into your body after a hectic shift. He’s still reluctant to try that one, and likes to give you your space to do the things you enjoy on your own sometimes. So he doesn't join you for that, but he loves watching you as you get ready to head to the studio.

You always wear these skin tight, colorful matching workout sets that drive him crazy. He doesn’t mean to keep you from getting to class, but sometimes he just can’t help the temptation.

“Baby,” he draws it out in a long groan. He crossed the room to you, grabbing your hips and ghosting his hands up and down, reverently. You were trying to gather your keys and yoga mat to head out the door. “You’re killing me here with the powder blue.” The leggings hugged your ass just right. God, he was about to start drooling.

You try to squirm out of his hold to put your shoes on, but he won't budge. “Get a good look, Jack, because I gotta go. Gonna be late if I don't leave right now.”

“Oh no, you're gonna be late already? Maybe you should just stay here with me,” he pouts suggestively.

“Already paid for the class. Actually you did, your card’s on the account.” With your resident salary, Jack liked to treat you to things like a membership to a fancy yoga studio with free green smoothies. He loved ‘providing’ for you, even though you both knew you could be just fine by yourself.

“Even better. I don't care about losing 30 bucks right now. Because you look way too sexy in those leggings to leave me here all alone.” He pecks your lips, then down your neck, sucking the spot where he knows will draw out a moan from you. You grasp your hand into his hair, getting lost in his efforts to entice you.

“Let me peel these off of you,” he begs, running his fingers under the waistband of the leggings. His hands travel lower, kneading at your ass and pulling you tighter against him. “Just let me worship your beautiful body, sweetheart.”

How could you say no to that? Maybe you would miss your class, but this was a form of self care as good as any.

#jack abbot fic #jack abbot x reader #jack abott #doctor abbot #dr abbot #dr. abbot x reader #the pitt fic #the pitt hbo #the pitt #dr. abbott #dr robby

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thinkingoutlouddblog · 3 days ago

Text

doctor doctor - s.r.

pairing: casual sex!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

summary: on the way to the hospital you call the only doctor you know (and the only person you want to see) - though you may have misunderstood what kind of doctor he is, exactly

word count: nearly 4k

masterlist // this is a continuation of 'the agreement'

series playlist if you're into that :)

contains: florist!reader, mugging, violence, allusions to potential SA attempt (no actual attempt made), allusions to smut, two cuties who are down bad for each other but refuse to admit it to themselves, they really don't know that much about each other's lives, mentions of no contact with family, reader refuses to put their own safety first and Spencer isn't living for it

Spencer has never known you to contact him during the day.

In fact, he’s never known you to initiate contact, only ever reply to his texts. These messages consist only of logistics. Your place or mine? What time? That kind of thing.

So at first, his expression is that of confusion as he reads your text.

BABY: What hospital do you work at ???

Spencer thought back over your first ever conversation. It was the only time you had ever discussed his work. He supposed he had only referred to it in an abstract sort of way. It wasn’t a leap that you would have assumed that Doctor Spencer Reid was in the medical field when he spoke of being unable to shake the memories of those he couldn’t save.

Beyond that first encounter, the point of your arrangement had been that it was an outlet for him to forget his work, so Spencer had never brought it up again and you had never pushed him to share.

Spencer’s chest tightened. He considered the probability of you asking him this question innocuously. Given past instances of casual text conversation (zero), he knew the chances were not good.

“Spencer, are you with us?” Hotch asked.

Not at all, he nearly said.

They were at the tail end of a case briefing, everyone’s eyes trained on Spencer as he stared at his phone. It didn’t take a profiler to know that a technophobe staring that intently at their phone spelled trouble.

“I need to step out for a sec.”

Spencer didn’t wait for a reply, already halfway out of his seat. He wouldn’t have even heard it if one came, his thoughts altogether consumed by you.

You picked up on the second ring. Spencer’s stomach dropped. He could hear the ambulance sirens loud and clear through the phone.

“Spencer?”

You sound slightly out of it. He ran through the potential reasons within a nanosecond. Pain, shock, blood loss, painkillers, a blow to the head.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you slurred slightly, unaware of the panic in his tone. “It’s just a scratch. They’re just being cautious.” If that were true, there would be no sirens for you to raise your voice over, but Spencer doesn’t say as much. “His knife was just very sharp. But I’m going to be okay, they told me so.”

The room tilted. His knife.

“You’re going to be okay,” Spencer knew he was reassuring himself more than he was you, but he hoped you didn’t notice. “What hospital are they taking you to?”

“Um,” you thought for a long second, “I don’t know.

“What hospital?” you asked someone other than Spencer. You repeated what the paramedic told you, though Spencer had already heard.

“Okay, I’m going to be there really soon, okay baby?”

“That would be nice,” you hummed.

The team emerged from the conference room as he hung up the phone.

“Wheels up in thirty, Reid. You with us?” Hotch asked.

“I need to take some personal time. I’m not sure how long yet. All of today at least.”

Spencer’s feet itched to be on the move as he stood and explained himself to his boss. Every second spent not on the way to you was a waste. If he did not consider these people his family, he’s not sure he would have had the restraint to stand here and have this conversation.

“Of course,” Hotch nodded, understanding and unquestioning. “Let us know if you need anything.”

Spencer turned to leave, yelling a quick, I will, over his shoulder.

“Reid!” Garcia called as he left.

Spencer didn’t stop walking, heard her heels clacking and figured she would catch up.

“Is your mom okay?”

“She’s fine,” he didn’t look up as he grabbed his bag from his desk. A thought occurred to him. “I might need some information from you later,” he said, the words his knife echoing in his mind with every move he made.

“I’ll await your phone call,” she told him, earnest.

Spencer didn’t even think to thank her, already running out of the office.

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It had been a rough morning for you.

You were in the worst point between Spencer visits. The glow of the orgasms had faded, the memories of the sex becoming further from the front of your mind. More difficult to hold onto with clarity. It would be several days yet until you could expect a visit from him again, thus the thrill of anticipation seemed miles away. You were in the middle period, left with one thing and one thing only: frustration.

You found yourself becoming crabby during this period. If you weren’t enjoying the sex so much, you would find it embarrassing. Your mood had become dependent on the frequency of visits from a guy you were seeing casually for sex. (You refused to acknowledge the fact that the influence was perhaps not exclusively the sex but the company you were enjoying and at this moment, missing).

You tried not to let your bad mood dominate your day, but it certainly infiltrated your enthusiasm for work, or rather created a lack thereof. You dragged your heels through your morning routine, spending more time than you should daydreaming about what (or who) you would rather be doing and found yourself running to make the train on time.

Normally, you would never cut through that alley to get to the train station, but you did so out of sheer necessity to catch your train.

It was broad daylight, you told yourself. It would be fine.

It was decidedly not fine.

You heard them before you saw them. Her cries. His harsh and low, “Hurry up, bitch.”

His back was to you, so much larger than her that you couldn’t even see her behind him.

You didn’t think, just reacted.

You don’t even remember running up, just the moment you yanked his shoulder away from her, towards you. He spun with the force of it. You hadn’t checked to see if he was wielding a weapon, barely even saw the flash of the knife as it sliced up your arm in the scuffle.

He was young. Maybe nineteen.

Luckily for you, your bold move was enough to spook him. He didn’t hesitate for a second before he took off running.

Your damsel in distress was around your age, shaking and still with her open bag in hand.

“Are you okay?” you asked, not yet seeing the blood dripping down your own arm.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look in your direction. Just stared after her retreating assailant. Despite the mounting distance between herself and danger, her shaking took on a more ferocious edge as shock set in. The girl’s back hit the wall behind her, in a second she was on the ground and folding in on herself.

You bent down and reached for her hand. That was when you saw the blood. It had slid down your arm and covered your hand already. Your stomach lurched at the volume. You steeled yourself and looked beyond it, focused on the girl’s face.

“You’re okay. Don’t worry, lovely, it’s over now,” you gripped her hand as best you could as you plied her with assurances.

The throb of your wound registered like a kick in the gut as your adrenaline began to crash. Your butt hit the cement with a thud. Your vision started to swim but you tried not to think about it but rather the girl in front of you. She needed you to hold tight just a little bit longer. That much you could do.

“What’s your name, lovely?”

Her teeth clacked together but she managed to tell you, “Grace.”

“Grace, I need you to take a deep breath.” You led with an exaggerated inhale, and to your relief she followed your example.

She settled some after three deep breaths together. Shakily, you used your good arm to pull your phone out of your pocket. You passed it to Grace and asked her to dial 911, unable to make out the numbers as your vision blurred. As you listened to her on the phone you couldn’t help but think again of the doctor who had been on your mind before your morning went to hell. Your doctor.

Despite everything, you huffed a laugh. You might see Spencer sooner than you thought.

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Of course you hadn’t anticipated him dropping everything to come see you.

Just like you hadn’t anticipated the somewhat drunk, woozy feeling blood loss would create within you. Without it, you were sure you wouldn’t have texted him at all.

You didn’t have anyone else to call, so you hoped you would just happen to be headed to the hospital where he worked.

The paramedics on scene seemed very serious about your injury. You thought they would maybe just stitch you up on scene. They wouldn’t even let you walk to the ambulance, demanding you lie down (and remain) on a gurney. It overwhelmed you, and in a moment of weakness you reached out to Spencer.

But you were secretly glad you had done it.

When you saw his face as he burst into your room (rather, your curtained off bed), you smiled despite the needle going into your arm.

He was frazzled, hair an unkempt mess and slightly out of breath. There was relief in his eyes as they locked onto yours. Then he clocked the doctor stitching up your arm. In two quick strides he was there, eyeing both the injury and the doctor’s handiwork.

Spencer could see the way the blade had swung out, slicing you first shallowly in your lower arm and catching some air above your elbow before slicing deeper into the flesh of your upper arm, creating a long broken line up your arm.

“Did the laceration on the upper arm nick any arteries?” he asked the doctor, all business.

“Luckily not, but your girl here was sitting in the cement bleeding for a while before the paramedics got there,” your doctor replied smoothly, unbothered by Reid’s probing. “Once I finish stitching her she’ll receive a transfusion. She’s a bit loopy from the blood loss right now.”

On cue, you pout at Spencer. “You’re not wearing your scrubs.”

He peeks at your displeased expression and he is overwhelmed by a desire to plant a hundred kisses all over your face. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding to see you talking and okay (well, half a breath, he’ll release the other half when you get your blood transfusion and stop looking so ashen).

Distracted by another thought, he only half looks at you as he says, “I’m not that kind of doctor, angel.

“What was the ambulance response time?” He asked the doctor.

“I would have to ask to find out the exact time but I don’t believe it was longer than normal. I heard from the nurses that she scared a mugger off from some poor girl. Didn’t call an ambulance until she could get the girl calmed down some.”

The doctor turned to you.

“Just remember next time, Supergirl, that paramedics can settle down people in shock too. Leave something for the rest of us to do,” the doctor winked at you.

“I left the arm for you to stitch, what more do you want,” you joked, but your eyes were half shut.

They opened quickly as a thought registered. “What kind of doctor are you then? A psychiatrist?”

The doctor’s brows shoot up, obviously wondering as to the nature of your relationship with Spencer if you don’t even know what kind of doctor he is.

Spencer is surprised by the itchy feeling it gives him inside. It had given him pleasure to be perceived as your person, the one you count on. He didn’t like this new perception the doctor would have of your relationship. That you didn’t really know each other. Even if it was a lot closer to the truth.

Spencer’s pleased to be spared having this conversation in front of the doctor as he finishes up the last stitch and says, “I’ll be back with a nurse to set up the transfusion in a minute.”

Spencer thanked the doctor and pulled up a seat beside you, no longer needing to supervise anyone’s medical handiwork. He sat on your good side so he could hold your hand without causing any discomfort.

“How are you feeling, honey?”

“Confused.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “How does your arm feel?”

“It’s fine, Spence. They gave me the good stuff, I promise. Now tell me what kind of doctor you are because I’m feeling silly.”

It occurs to Spencer then that you may share a commonality. Neither of you enjoy being wrong. Surely that is the explanation for the crease between your brows and the downturn of your mouth, something he is so unused to seeing.

“You’re not silly. You made a reasonable deduction based on the information you were provided.”

“The wrong deduction.”

“Well, yes,” he concedes.

“So?” You look at him expectantly.

“My doctorates are in mathematics, engineering and chemistry, but I work for the FBI in the behavioural analysis unit,” he explained.

You stared at him blankly. This new reality was perhaps too much for your brain to comprehend so soon after a traumatic event.

“I catch killers by creating profiles of who these criminals would likely be based on the behaviour of known offenders,” Spencer attempted to simplify. “Well, not just me. Me and my team.”

“Sure,” you snorted.

Spencer just looked at you. Waited a beat for you to process.

Realisation dawned upon you. “Oh. You’re serious?”

“I’m not exactly well known for my jokes.”

You laughed. “That’s true.”

You sat back in your bed and sized him up, considering him within this new context. Reshuffling the picture you had formed of his life outside of your dalliances.

“Maybe it’s the drugs or the blood loss but I can actually kind of see it.”

It was Spencer’s turn to snort. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I might still ask to see your credentials later. I’m not sure I would know the difference if you handed me your driver’s licence at this point.”

“I don’t have my driver’s licence.”

You shuddered. This is who we’re entrusting the safety of the public with?

“Hey!”

Oops. You hadn’t realised you were talking aloud in your hazy state.

“I’ll take you for a driving lesson one day okay? If you can figure out a way to have so many doctorates you can figure out how to drive under my tutelage.”

Your eyes started to droop shut as you spoke, and your voice took on a sort of dreamy quality as you pictured the two of you in a car park somewhere driving around in circles. The thought made you feel warm and cosy inside.

“Come on, baby, stay awake just until they hook up the blood transfusion for me, please?”

You did as you were told with a pout.

“You and I need to have a chat about your vigilante behaviour.”

“Ah, Mr FBI is here to tell me off. Sorry, Doctor FBI.” You attempted a wink at him, trying to keep the mood light, but all you managed in your exhausted state was a kind of exaggerated blink.

Spencer would remember the moment later and smile, but right now he was too focused on the issue at hand.

“Baby, I’m serious. What were you thinking? Your life isn’t worth someone’s wallet.”

You grimaced. You wished he had just taken a hint and dropped it. “I didn’t think, okay?”

“That was obvious.”

Spencer’s clipped tone caused his words to land across your face like a blow. He wanted to stuff them back into his mouth as soon as he said them. You withdrew your hand from his.

“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I just- I got so worried when you called me from the back of that ambulance. Scared me half to death. Now I’m scared half to death that this won’t be the only time you go looking for trouble.”

“I didn’t go looking for trouble, Spencer. I stumbled across them and I thought,” you sighed and looked away from him. “I thought he was going to take more from her than her wallet, and I just reacted, okay? I didn’t go looking for trouble. It found me.”

You sat in silence together for a moment. Spencer could feel some history behind your words and the heaviness in your eyes. He wanted to ask. Wanted to know. But he knew now wasn’t the time or the place.

“That makes sense. I’m sorry I didn’t think. Didn’t try harder to put myself in your shoes.”

“Didn’t you just tell me that was your whole job or something too?” You teased, trying to break the ice that had frosted over between you.

“Kind of.”

Normally he would dive into a spiel about the exact ins and outs of the process of behavioural analysis but he is interrupted by a nurse.

“Knock knock,” she chimes.

Spencer stands, allowing the nurse access to you. She works quickly, and with expert ease, unfazed by Spencer’s watchful eye.

You go quiet as she works, the events (and injury) of the morning catching up with you. Spencer kicks himself internally for not letting you rest. He should have waited to bring up his concerns. Asked about it in a more delicate manner. The panic had a tight hold on him though, and he is unsure there is any version of events in which he would have been able to keep his mouth shut.

The doctor stops by to check in and make sure you’re good to go, and then Spencer can finally breathe a (full) sigh of relief as your blood transfusion is underway.

“Can I nap now?” Your voice is small, your eyes barely open.

“Of course,” the doctor says, but you’re looking at Spencer. He’s never seen you look so young and vulnerable before.

Spencer nods. “Let’s get you comfortable, baby.”

He fusses over you, fluffing your pillow and tucking you into your blanket. Once satisfied, he sits back down and reclaims your hand in his.

“Is there anyone else you want me to call for you?”

Embarrassed, you shake your head no. Sliced open on the street and the only person in the world you have to call is the guy you’re having casual sex with.

“No family?”

Spencer kicked himself for asking such a sensitive question. Your agreement not to discuss personal issues was in direct opposition to his innate curiosity about you. He supposes today was a special incident though, and for the duration they might be able to exist slightly outside the boundaries of the agreement.

You had held strong through the whole ordeal, showing little signs of being rattled by the violent altercation of which you had been a part of. But you gave Spencer a watery smile at his two word question.

“You’re not the only one with things to forget, Spencer.”

He brushes the tear off your face as soon as it falls. “Then let me help you forget.”

“I think they frown upon you doing those kinds of things in a hospital room. Particularly one where the walls are just curtains,” you joked.

Spencer refused to acknowledge your lewd comment. “Tell me what book you want me to read to you. One of those romances that you love so much. But one of the classics, otherwise I might not know it.”

You might not know what he does for work, but you know him well enough not to doubt his ability to recite novels to you.

You drift off to the steady timbre of Spencer’s voice, reciting Austen. He doesn’t start at the beginning, jumping rather to your favourite part so you can fall asleep to something that he knows will make you happy. Spencer doesn’t realise of course, that his presence alone will bring you enough joy to fall asleep peacefully.

When he is sure that you are well and truly asleep, Spencer steps out to make a phone call. Garcia, despite working an active case, picks up on the first ring.

“Everything okay, my love?”

“Everything’s fine, thankfully. Listen, I need a favour.”

“I can’t find that info for you until the case is over,” Penelope interjects.

“I know, that��s fine, this is something else.”

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You awake to find two bunches of flowers beside your bed, a card in each one. Curious, your eyes are barely open before you’re sitting up and reaching for the cards. The first identifies the sender as your damsel in distress, Grace, the second identifies the sender as ‘Spencer and the BAU’.

“Really they’re mainly from the BAU’s tech analyst, Penelope,” Spencer tells you as he re-enters your arm, catching you in the act of reading the card. “She doesn’t really understand the concept of personal boundaries.”

He hands you the water he had evidently gone to fetch you before reassuming his post by your bed.

You gulp down the water thirstily and ask, “What did you get me if those aren’t really from you then?”

You’re teasing, not actually expectant of anything, but he nods toward your arm.

You look down to see your injured arm is no longer propped up by a pillow, but by the softest, sweetest teddy bear you’ve ever seen. He’s a gorgeous shade of chestnut brown, with chocolate eyes and a red bow tie. You lift your arm to get a better look and see he has a bandage on his arm to match your own. You melt.

“I know you’re a florist so the idea of picking flowers that would meet your standards overwhelmed me and I thought maybe they wouldn’t be as special to you somehow? And you’ve been so brave through this whole thing I figured you deserve something special. Maybe you think it’s childish but I thought it would also be useful for keeping your arm elevated so if you don’t like it-”

“Spencer,” you interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“I love it,” you grin.

“You do?”

“I do. Thank you so much.” He finally cracks a smile at this, the first you had seen on his face all day. The room becomes all the brighter for it. You are overwhelmed with gratitude for him at that moment. You can’t imagine how sad and lonely this whole ordeal would have felt without him (even the mere thought of him, the anticipation of seeing him) to get you through.

“And thank you so much for being here, I know this isn’t what you agreed to. Being someone’s emergency contact isn’t exactly casual,” you laughed, trying to make light of your own guilt.

“I don’t mind. I’m just glad that you’re okay. That’s the most important thing.” Spencer took your hand then.

You hummed, but you were not entirely convinced.

“Besides, just because we’re getting to know each other a little better doesn’t mean we can’t keep things casual. You know what kind of doctor I am, and I know you’re Batman, doesn’t mean that I’m your boyfriend.”

You laughed a proper laugh then. Spencer has never been one for comedy, but he sees its appeal for the first time as he basks in the glow of being the one to evoke that sweet sound.

“Okay, so maybe we… rethink the terms of our agreement?” You pray the hope in your tone (and your eyes) don’t betray you.

“I think,” Spencer paused, gave your hand a squeeze, “we do what feels right as we go along.”

You agreed, knowing full well you were throwing yourself headlong into getting your heart broken, because while Spencer wanted casual, the only thing that felt right to you was pulling him closer.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

authors note: low-key put my whole chest into this ngl

I have so many ideas for these two sweeties I started like four fics about them at once which is why this one took so long. Let me know what you want to see from these two!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #casual sex!spencer #dr spencer reid #masterlist #bau fanfiction #bau x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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morganbritton132 · 2 days ago

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Steve comes back to the bar.

It’s not Ladies Night and they’re technically not even open yet. It’s about an hour before they start letting people in so, “I don’t know why Frank keeps letting you in here.”

“Dude, I literally just asked.”

Steve’s dressed like he just got off work and Eddie almost asks what he does for a living but reminds himself that he didn’t call the guy for a reason. He asks instead, “Your friend get a date?”

“Not yet,” Steve says, waving his hand around like he’s repeating something ridiculous. “Finals week, or whatever. I brought you something.”

He sits a Tupperware bowl down on the bar and smiles. Eddie raises an eyebrow, “What is it?”

“Vegetable soup,” Steve smiles wider. “I made it.”

“…Why?”

“Well, you never called me.”

God, the absolute gall of this guy, Eddie thinks. The lack of care about the way things works is astounding. He’s kinda in love with him already which is exactly why Eddie didn’t call, “You made me soup because I…didn’t ask you on a date?”

“No?” Steve says like Eddie’s an idiot for having that idea. “It’s to entice you.”

“…I’m not following.”

“Oh, I saw the dice tattoo on your arm,” Steve explains nothing. “D&D, right? You probably have a, uh, club? Party.”

“And you want to join?”

“God, no,” He shakes his head and then pulls another Polaroid out of his breast pocket. There’s a different phone number written on it and it’s not Robin this time, “This is Dustin. He just moved here and needs a new group. He’s a big nerd…love the kid.”

Eddie looks at the picture of the teenager with the Lego Death Star and then back at Steve, “Do you keep Polaroids of everybody you know?”

“Only the people I like,” Steve grins, holding the picture out for Eddie to take. “Maybe I can get one of you sometime.”

It’s ladies night at the gay bar Eddie works at which means no men allowed, which means, ‘how the hell did this dork in a polo make it pass the bouncer and how the hell has no one complained about him yet?’

Eddie watches the admittedly gorgeous guy approach the bar and ask for a drink. Eddie responds with, “How did you get past Frank?”

“The bouncer?” Pretty boy asks. “Oh, I asked if I could come in.”

“You asked?”

“Yeah?”

“And he let you?”

“Yeahhh?”

“None of these girls are going to go for you,” Eddie tells him in case he somehow missed that this was the queerest bar in town. “They’re lesbians. They like women.”

“I know!” The guy - Steve, Eddie will find out later - smiles, bright and big. “Isn’t that great?!”

Something in Eddie curdles with disgust because, “Nice try, buddy. You’re not going to ‘turn’ a lesbian.”

“Hope not,” Steve laughs and then pulls a stack of Polaroids out of his pocket. “Look at this.”

He holds one out to Eddie, showing him the image of a girl looking done-as-shit with the camera in her face. There’s a phone number written at the bottom.

“This is Robin," Steve says fondly. “Shes my best friend, and a lesbian, and the best person I’ve ever met, and I love her…she deserves a girlfriend so I’m-“

“Advertising her?”

“Helping get her a date,” Steve finishes. “This will make a great story at their wedding.”

“That’s insane…and strangely endearing.”

“Yeah, I’m like that,” Steve says, sliding over a Polaroid of Robin giving the camera the bird. “That’s my phone number too. Just so you know.”

#Steve will not be deterred by social norms #He’s going to improve his friends lives and flirt with cute bartenders #Eddie does actually call the number on the Polaroid because that’s a pretty sick Death Star #and Dustin immediately is like: Did Steve give you this number?#steve harrington #eddie munson

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bullet-prooflove · 2 days ago

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Positive: Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fadeinsol @akotafi @yousigned-upforthis @cowardlycandy

Companion piece to:

The Professional - Pope meets the love of his life when Smurf hires her to crack a safe.

Ethical Thieving - You introduce Pope to a new skill set.

Crazy (NSFW) - Pope's always been crazy but now he's also a man in love.

Tomorrow - Pope's family always fuck up the good in his life.

Do Over Day (NSFW) - Pope tries to make up for the day before.

Everything - Pope's family life clashes with your time together.

The baby comes as a complete surprise to Pope. He sits on your couch staring at the three pregnancy tests, each one lined up one after the other, each one positive. You sit across from him, your hands pressed between your thighs waiting for him to process this new information.

“I’m having a lot of feelings right now.” He tells you, his voice rough as his eyebrows furrow. You can sense the panic raising up in him as he gestures to his chest. “Like too many feelings…”

“Alright Andy, take a deep breath.” You say climbing into his lap, your arms wrapping around him holding him close. He buries his face into the curve of your throat, inhaling the soothing scent of the ocean that lingers on your skin as your fingertips comb through his curls. It’s the only thing that grounds him when he’s overwhelmed, that keeps him here in the moment.

“Is this real?” He mumbles as he looks up at you, his whiskey eyes glistening. “Am I really going to be a father?”

“Do you want to be?” You ask him, your thumb brushing away the salt that mars the freckles on his cheeks.

“It’s what we talked about.” He whispers. “You, me, a baby of our own. I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.”

“That’s kind of on me.” You explain as your fingertips trail over his features. “When you were in prison, there was no need for birth control. I wasn’t on it when you turned up that night, I didn’t expect-”

“Hey.” He says softly, his palm cradling the nape of your neck as his mouth drags over yours. “It takes two to make a baby and I was just so excited to see you I didn’t think about any of that either. It’s like the stars aligned or something.”

“You think the baby was fate?” You ask him and the edges of his mouth twitch up into a smile.

“I think you were.” He tells you, his gaze fixing on yours as his hands come to cradle the little lifeform residing inside you. “I gotta think that maybe this is too. I mean it was always the plan…”

“When we had our own place outside of Oceanside, where your mother couldn’t find us.” You remind him.

His grip on you tightens because your words, they’re a reminder that Smurf can’t let Andy have good things. She always snatches them away so she can keep him close, keep him chained to her like a dog on a leash, desperate for freedom but never obtaining it.

“We don’t have enough money for a clean break now but there’s a few jobs I’m working on-”

“No.” He says resolutely, his ferocious gaze meeting yours. “I can’t take the risk of something happening to you and the baby.”

“Andy.” You say firmly, cradling his face between your hands. “There’s a bigger risk to the baby if she finds out about it.”

You’re right, he knows you are. It’s different with Baz and Catherine because Smurf knows she can control Catherine on some level. Catherine needs her to help with Lena, to provide jobs for Baz so that they can make rent, afford good things.

You are a completely different ballgame. You’re fiercely independent, running your own jobs, making your own cash. This whole feud between the two of you started because you knew how to command a room and Smurf didn’t like it. When she did try and get you under her thumb you’d countered it with your own leverage.

Mutually assured destruction Janine, you’d reminded her. You fuck me, I’ll fuck you right back and trust me I’m harder and rougher than most of the men you play with. It created a healthy boundary between the two of you, you stay out of her business, she stays out of yours.

It’s Pope that’s the problem.

You falling in love with him is your biggest downfall because it places you directly in her scope. She’d put a bullet in you and the baby before she’d let him have either of you.

“There’s a big job coming up.” He says finally, running through the figures in his head, doing the math. “My cut from that with the money you’ve already saved should be enough to get us squared away. We just have to wait a couple of weeks, start looking for a place in Santa Barbara sooner rather than later.”

“We can get started tonight.” You tell him, reaching back towards the coffee table for your tablet. Pope stops you, his hands clasping your wrists before he guides them back around his neck, your fingers lacing together.

“Tomorrow.” He says, his mouth capturing yours before he raises to his feet, taking you with him. “Tonight we celebrate.”

Love Pope? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#andrew cody #andrew cody x reader #andrew pope cody #pope #pope x reader #andy pope cody #andy pope cody x reader #animal kingdom #pope animal kingdom #pope cody #pope cody x reader #andrew pope cody x reader #shawn hatosy

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heartsforkatsuki · 2 days ago

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rude. ｡°✩ e. kirishima

pov ; your dad won’t give ur boyfriend of 8 years his blessing

pairing: eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, marriage, swearing, yearning lovesick kirishima!!!

word count: ~1.9k. song; rude by magic!

kirishima had fallen in love with you at first sight.

the minute he saw you in the entrance exams, he prayed you’d both get in together. he came up to you and wished you a very manly , loud, “good luck!!” with a hand on his hip and his other in a thumbs up.

you’d found it weird at first, and returned his enthusiasm with an awkward “thank you..?” and walked away.

now, 11 years later, looking back, you find it endearing, and can’t believe how long it took you to end up where you are now.

the minute he heard you woke up after the war, kirishima ran to your room and hugged you. not even 2 seconds before you could process him, he asked you to be his girlfriend and explained how he felt about you all along.

“[name], i’m so inlove with you. i have been since the entrance exams. i’ve been keeping that from you for three years.. so sorry. that wasn’t cool of me. i really, really hope you feeling the same way ‘cause if you don’t, i’ll bet i look pretty stupid right now.. you’re just so.. beautiful and captivating .. and strong. so strong.. and really cool just.. all around. what i’m trying to say is.. will you be my girlfriend? please? oh! dang, and i’m so so glad you’re okay! i should’ve started with that.. dang it.“

he said everything so rushed, you just sat there in your hospital bed blinking at him.

“i.. what?”

“its okay if you don’t feel the sa-“

you finally processed it all.

“no, no! i do! im sorry, it took me a minute to process.”

he rubbed the back of his head, looking at the floor. the tips of his ears were turning the same color as his hair now.

it was adorable.

“so…?”

“yes! yes, i’ll be your girlfriend!”

now, 8 years later, you’re still together and more in love than ever. you’ve succeeded at acquiring your dream job, and your boyfriend has been climbing up the hero rankings, sitting at #12! what could be better than this? there’s one problem though.. what’s been taking him so long to make you his forever?

it was approximately 8AM, you woke up to a message from your boyfriend saying he left early for work.

you sighed, reading through the text.

goodmorning, babe! if you’re reading this it’s cause you’re awake, which means you should have (hopefully) noticed your amazing, radical, the manliest of them all boyfriend is infact not laying down next to you! (that’s me btw) i had to go to work early babes, i’ll be home later! i love you baba girl😘😍😍!

you chuckled, texted back a heart and an okay , be safe before you went to check the calendar.

it was saturday.

eijiro almost never, ever worked on saturdays unless there was an emergency. he wouldn’t even check in at the agency.

so of course, the first thing you did was check the news.

nothing really, just small criminals and no big villains. what could he possibly be doing?

so the next thing you did was check his location. not because you’re crazy, but you were genuinely worried. you never ever checked his location, you didn’t need to. but he insisted to give you it just in case, so you never had to doubt.

currently, he was on super close to Osaka, and it said he’d been driving there for about two hours now.

Osaka? What the hell is in Osa…

your parents. your parents lived in Osaka, nobody else you guys knew lived there. when you saw exactly where he was, you saw he was literally pulling up on your parent’s street.

what the hell?

eijiro pulled up in the driveway to your parents house, his palms clammy on the steering wheel.

he’d been thinking about doing this for a while now, but he knew just how your dad felt about him.

your dad was a very old-fashioned man, didn’t exactly love the idea of you dating, much less marrying, a hero.

he didn’t want there to be an accident, only to end up with a depressed, grieving, hurt daughter.

and he made sure you knew it.

“he’s gonna do something stupid one day, [name], and then you’ll regret it.“

you’d always ignored him, and eijiro was forever grateful.

he tried as hard as he could to change your dad’s views on heroes, explaining how passionate he was, and why he decided on it in the first place.

he never really budged though.

now, kirishima was standing at your parents’ doorstep at 8am on a saturday morning, in his best suit, tailored just for this moment, and a big bouquet for your mom.

he brushed his hands on his dress pants and pushed the doorbell button.

he stood there for a minute looking at his shoes, until he heard the lock turn.

when he looked up, he was met with your dad’s resting bitch face. except now it was ten times worse, seeing as it was 8 in the morning.

“ah.. goodmorning, mr. [surname].”

“eijiro? it’s 8am.” your dad crossed his arms, spreading his feet.

“i know.” he lifted his hand, handing the flowers over to your father. “those are for mrs. [surname].”

“thank you? why are you here, young man?” he scowled.

“i came because i wanted to ask you.. for your blessing.” he rubbed the back of his neck, “to marry [name].”

“i love your daughter more than anything, and i’ve kept her waiting for 8 years now. i’ve been inlove with her for 11 years now, and i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

your dad scoffed to that, “which i’m sure won’t be long, eijiro. your job is gonna end up with my daughter heartbroken.”

“sir, please, i’m safe! i love your daughter, plea—”

“over my dead body. no. until i die, you aren’t marrying my daughter.” he slammed the door in front of eijiro.

“fuck..” he sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking back to his car.

“I just don’t get why he’s so rude to me.” kirishima groaned, placing his beer on the table infront of him.

“he’s just an asshole dude, ignore him.” bakugo responded, rolling his eyes.

“hey! that’s my future father in law you’re talking about.” he whined, taking a swig of beer.

“he won’t be if you keep paying attention to the bullshit he’s spouting.” the blonde picked up his own beer, drinking it.

“dude, i’m gonna marry her anyways.. i just need to convince him.” kirishima insisted, his hands balling into fists.

the week after that, kirishima did the same thing as he did that last saturday morning, he bought a brand new suit and showed up with an bigger bouquet.

the door creaked open, and he made sure to get the first word in

“can i have your daughter for the rest of my life? please. i love her, i can provide for her as i always have, and i’ll give my life to make her happy.”

he prayed your father would say yes, chanting it in his head.

“no.” he slammed the door, again.

“hey babe, why does your dad hate me so much?”

it was now two weeks after the first visit, and you hadn’t asked him about why he went to go see your parents yet.

“he doesn’t hate you…” you curled on the couched next to him, stroking his hair, “he’s just looking out for me, babe.”

“why does he have to hate me in order to look out for you?” he pouted.

“he doesn’t hate you babe!”

the following week, he repeated his attempts.

another new suit, and a bigger bouquet. he stood at the door, determined to walk away with your fathers blessing this time.

one thing changed though, this time your father didnt open the door, your mom did.

“Oh. goodmorning, mrs. [surname]. how are you?” he asked, lifting the bouquet to her.

“goodmorning, eijiro. i’m well, thank you for asking, and for the flowers dear.” she smiled.

“is mr. [surname] home?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants again.

“yes, he is. let me get him for you.”

she stepped away from the door, and soon, your dad appeared. his expression was unreadable this time.

“you again?” he grunted.

“yes, sir. i know you’ve said no—three times now—but i love your daughter. i’m going to marry her. with or without your blessing… but i’d rather it be with.”

your father stayed silent.

“i’ve never loved anyone the way i love her. she’s the first and only person i’ve ever truly wanted to build a future with. i want to wake up next to her every morning. i want to take care of her, support her, grow old with her. and i promise you, with everything i have, i’ll protect her.”

your dad sighed, long and heavy.

“…you’re a persistent little bastard, huh?”

kirishima swallowed, “only for her, sir.”

your father stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside.

“come in.”

kirishima blinked, stunned. “w-what?”

“you heard me. come in.”

he followed him inside, nervous and stiff as a board.

they talked for over an hour. about life, about you, about the future. your father asked hard questions, challenged him, and at one point even asked if he was truly willing to give up being a hero someday if it came down to choosing between his life or yours.

without hesitation, kirishima answered, “i’d choose her. every time.”

eventually, your dad nodded slowly and let out another sigh.

“…fine. you have my blessing.”

kirishima nearly collapsed from relief.

“but you better not make her cry. not once. or i swear—”

“never, sir. never.”

a few days later, you came home to find a trail of glowing red petals leading to your backyard. confused, you followed them.

and there he was.

in a perfectly fitted black suit, holding a small, red velvet box in his hand, his other hand tucked nervously into his pocket.

the yard was lit up with fairy lights, and small candles floated in a heart-shaped pond he’d made with some help.

“[name],” he said, voice cracking just a little, “i’ve loved you since the day i met you. you’re everything to me. my best friend, my strength, my peace. i want to spend every second of my life making you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

he got down on one knee.

“will you marry me?”

you cried. of course you did.

dang it, he already messed up the first rule.

but you said yes so fast, he didn’t even finish opening the box before you tackled him with a hug.

later that night, you sat together under the stars, your head on his shoulder, your hand in his—now with a sparkling ring on it.

“so,” you whispered, “what changed my dad’s mind?”

he smiled and kissed your forehead. “i just told him the truth. and refused to leave until he believed it.”

you giggled. “you’re so stubborn.”

“only for you, babe.”

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salthusiast · 11 hours ago

Text

Violent Love Language

No Goggles Mark x GDA Agent Female Reader

Summary: After being sent on a quick mission by Cecil, you catch the attention of one of the variants.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: Violence and blood. Also death (nobody important don’t worry).

“What is going on?!” You hear Cecil’s voice appear behind you. He must really like that teleporter.

“It appears that multiple versions of Invincible have entered our dimension.” You say, clearing your stack of papers. You know Cecil is going to make you work for that paycheck today.

“No shit, many are we talking?” He asks.

“Sixteen, sir.” You reply, attempting to pull up any cameras you can access on your computer. You pull up the ones from the prison and see some weird Mohawk version of Invincible.

“Huh, well, that’s not what I expected.” You blink, taken aback briefly by the difference.

“It doesn’t matter what he looks like. We need to figure out how to stop them. Get every superhero on the planet out there.” Cecil commands.

You nod, getting ready to notify all the teams Cecil has at his disposal, which is a lot.

“Donald, come with me,” Cecil says, walking toward the door before pausing at the door and calling your name.

You whip your head toward him, confused if you heard him correctly, “Yes, you come too.” He snaps.

You don’t want to piss him off more than he already is. You can’t imagine that dealing with a crisis like this is very fun. You’re stressed out with your current position, so you can’t imagine being the GDA director.

“Everybody else, make sure that at least some heroes are trying to stop every single Invincible,” Cecil calls out before turning back toward the door, you and Donald following suit.

“I called you for a special mission. I tried to keep it on the down low as much as possible. However, with current circumstances, I need a favor.” The three of you continue to walk down the hallway.

You start to feel a little anxious, “Whatever you need, sir. Will it be dangerous?” You ask.

He doesn’t immediately respond, “Usually no, but right now potentially.” He sighs. “I am trusting you with this job. It could potentially save millions of lives if you’re successful.”

Geez, no pressure. You feel yourself start to sweat, “If it saves lives, it is worth it. What is it you need me to do, sir?” You ask.

Cecil brings you to a new room, “You’re going to be looking for a black suitcase. In that suitcase, there will be about twenty small devices in there. They’re experimental, but hypothetically, they should be useful in dealing with Viltrumites. They’re portable versions of the chips that we implanted into Mark. They have a working radius of around fifty miles out.”

You gape at him; you can't help but feel bad for Mark. You don’t know him personally, but he seems to be a good person. Cecil had made these intending to stop this dimension’s Mark, not other ones.

“Judge all you want about it, but it’s our best hope,” Cecil says, grabbing a watch-looking device. You recognize it immediately.

“Sir, where exactly is this located?” You ask, putting on the device.

Cecil looks at you solemnly, “Guardians HQ. If you’re lucky, you can find it and be in and out in five minutes. However, realistically, you’re going to have to pass all the security checks, which require everybody here to approve.” He sighs.

“I won’t lie, kid. There’s a large chance one of these Invincible variants will be there. If that’s the case, we’ll try and get you out of there. We’ll be monitoring from here.” Cecil gestures between himself and Donald.

You nod, “Yeah,” You take a deep breath, “Okay. Wait, so I get to use the teleporter?” You ask, feeling a little excited.

“Yes, you should just be going there and back,” Cecil explains, motioning for Donald to get everything ready.

“This isn’t coming out of my paycheck right…” You admire the watch. It looks simple, but you know this is very expensive. Cecil stares at you unamused.

“Uh, okay, I’m ready. How does this— OH MY GOODNESS-” You feel yourself stumble as you land in Guardians HQ.

“Woah…” You look around, you haven’t been here before, not being a superhero. “Damn, really wish he gave me some idea of where it could be.” You mumble to yourself.

You look around the vast room, noticing a large desk. “Guess I’ll start here.” You rummage around briefly, not seeing anything catch your eye.

You spend the next ten minutes just trying to find the suitcase. Was Cecil trying to get you killed? He could’ve at least pointed you in the right direction.

Eventually, you find a door; there isn’t anything special about it. You go to see if you can open it. You try to twist the handle, failing miserably. “Oh, come on.” You groan.

You look at the screen on the door handle’s keypad, which requires higher security access.

You turn around the room, “Uhh, if you guys can hear me, could you maybe unlock the door?” You point at it, feeling stupid.

Suddenly, a loud crash resonates in the room. You immediately try to find cover, but you’re standing out in the open.

“Ah damn, I thought they’d be here.” You hear Invincible say, but you know it’s not the one you know.

You slowly try and inch away out of sight. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t see you?

“Cecil, I know you’re watching.” Not Mark announces in a sing-song tone. “Here! Let me get rid of all these cameras for you.”

You watch as this Mark variant destroys every camera. Damn, you were relying on those.

You try and see if there are any differences between this Mark and the one you know. He seems to have the older costume. Other than that, there doesn’t appear to be any differences in it.

You squint, trying to see. Oh, no goggles, that's a choice.

Just as you try and find a spot to cover, you hear him laugh loudly, “Oh, ho! Look who we have here!” He calls your name out. You stiffen. How does he know you?

“It really is you! Damn, I started to actually miss you. I killed you in my world, you were a reallll challenge.” He floats just above you. You feel a little pathetic crouched down beneath him.

“Is that so?” You counter, feigning confidence. Cecil, where are you? You take a quick glance at the watch, hoping it'll activate, but it doesn't.

“Oh yeah, for sure! I was so sad when I killed you. I got you to scream for hours. You lasted so long. It was soooo cool.” He gestures excitedly. You nod as if interested. Keep him busy, somebody’s gotta come eventually.

“How nice.” You reply sarcastically. Not Mark nods enthusiastically, not noticing the sarcasm.

I still remember what you sounded like. “God, I can’t believe I get a second opportunity to do it.” He lands right in front of you.

“Woah, uh, maybe take a step back.” You step back, creating distance. You feel unnerved by the wide grin on his face.

“Oooh, setting up the match, huh? We’re getting serious. Okay, okay, I’ll play along!” He gets into a fighting stance. You stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“For somebody who seemed to enjoy torturing me so much, I’m surprised I’m only the second version to have the honor to fight you.” You can feel yourself start to sweat. You are running out of ways to stall him.

“I know. I mean, I wanted to conquer other dimensions,” He waves a hand casually, “but this is fun too.”

You see a shift in the lighting above. You subtly glance up, finally somebody’s here. You can’t tell who it is, but you can see it’s not an Invincible.

“Hmm.. yes, fun.” You reply uninterested. “You know what else is fun?” You ask, moving closer.

He starts to grin wider, getting into a more serious position, “What?”

You push him down the stairs, catching him off guard. You got lucky there. If he wanted to resist that, he definitely could’ve. You see the Guardians descend from the ceiling, restraining him.

You look towards the open door, which was locked earlier. You run towards it.

“Hey! AGH!” You hear him get hit. “DUDE IT WAS A ONE V ONE! RESPECT THE MATCH!” You hear him yell across the room. Ha.

You grab the suitcase waiting in the room, watching as the Guardians attempt to knock him unconscious.

You frown, “You guys need him alive or something?” You ask, watching them beat down on Not Mark.

“Yeah, Cecil thinks he’s our best shot at getting answers.” You hear Darkwing reply. You nod, “Alright then. Not my business.” You start to walk away, “Wait, before I leave, can I do something?"

All the Guardians look at each other, “Sorry, it’ll just take a moment.” You set the suitcase down, taking a heel off your foot.

You throw it as hard as you can at Not Mark, hitting him dead in the eye. “Hey! What’d you do that for?!” He frowns pettishly.

You grab the suitcase, picking it up again. You adjust yourself before looking him dead in the eye with a straight face, “Fun.”

You turn around to walk away from the Guardians, feeling the odd sensation of being teleported once again.

All the Guardians watch, flabbergasted. “She’s got guts.” Darkwing breaks it, amused. Immortal nods, “Let’s just knock this guy out. There’s still more out there.”

Not Mark remains on the floor, awestruck. How did this human come in here, trick him into an ambush, and then have the audacity to hit him? His eyes linger on where you teleported away.

It was at this moment that he decided he would meet you again.

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

“That was a bold move, kid.” You hear Cecil’s voice. You look up, still nauseous from the teleportation, and his arms are crossed.

“He killed another version of me.” You justify, handing him the suitcase. “Even if I don’t have super strength to beat him up, I wanted to at least hit him for what he did. I would’ve slapped him, but I’m not stupid enough to go into neck snapping range.”

“Whatever," He sighs, "it’s done now. We’ll try and send these out with some teams. They should at least reduce the damage that could be done.” Cecil says, opening the suitcases. He grabs one of the devices.

“What about Mark, sir?” Donald asks, frowning.

“If you can get in contact with him, tell him to get off the planet. Otherwise, it’s a small price to pay for the greater good. He’ll recover, humanity may not.” Cecil replies. Donald nods and goes back to typing.

Cecil turns toward you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Good work, kid. Sorry that you had to deal with that.”

You shrug, “It’s okay, he didn’t actually get the chance to do anything.” You reply. “What are you planning on doing with him? Are you sure you can restrain him?” You ask, frowning.

“We’re planning on implanting the same chip that Mark had into him. Don’t worry, we have a plan for what to do with him. We might be able to extract some answers out of him eventually.” Cecil sighs. “I don’t even know if we’ll be able to rehabilitate him.” He shakes his head.

You know this is what Cecil does. While you may find some moral issues in using villains, you know this is how he works. There’s nothing you can do to change that.

You nod, “It’s worth a shot, sir.” You reply. “If we can have two Invincibles out there, that’d be a huge advantage.”

“Yeah, that’s if he will change. These variants seem pretty set in their ways.” Cecil watches Donald work. “One step at a time. We need to get answers out of him first.”

You nod, “Probably a good idea.”

Cecil turns back to you before dismissing you back to your desk, “Thank you for your help.”

You nod, “Of course, sir. Call me anytime.”

—

“You sure he won’t wake up?” Darkwing asks, looking nervously at the body of the unconscious Invincible slung over Immortal’s back.

Duplikate walks up next to them, “I doubt it. If he does, Cecil told us he has a backup. We can also knock him out again.”

“We were lucky. If he wasn’t caught off guard, then we would not have knocked him out. He would’ve killed us all.” Darkwing responds solemnly.

Immortal slides the variant into the special cell that Cecil told them to put him in.

“Thank you, Guardians.” A scientist comes up to them, locking the special prison cell. “You needn’t worry about him escaping. You are free to go.” He smiles.

The Guardians nod before rushing out of the Pentagon. Cecil walks into the room. “Is he up yet?” He asks.

The scientist shakes his head, “No, sir. We expect he’ll wake up in the next few minutes, though.” He taps his pen on the clipboard.

“Good, all safety measures have been checked, yes?” Cecil asks. The scientist nods, “Yes, sir. He will not be escaping.” He responds. The two watch as the Invincible starts to stir.

“Agh, my head… Hey, where am I?” He looks around before making eye contact with Cecil. “You seriously think that I can’t escape this?” He sounds amused. He slowly stands up, walking up to the front of his cell.

“Perhaps, but you will regret your attempts,” Cecil replies, his voice betraying nothing.

The Invincible variant laughs, taking off his mask. “You had me knocked out, why not kill me?” He puts his finger through the mask and spins it.

“You aren’t in a position to be asking questions.” Cecil narrows his eyes.

The variant suddenly slams into the front of the cell where Cecil and the scientist stand. The scientist flinches back, but Cecil remains still.

“You truly think. I can’t kill you right now?” He laughs. “All it takes is— ARGH!!” He immediately falls down onto the ground, gripping his head.

Cecil presses the button once again, cutting out the noise playing in the Invincible’s ear. “Like I said, you’re not in a position to be asking questions.” The variant looks up at him, the amused smile gone from his face.

"Now tell me why you’re here,” Cecil demands.

The variant wipes the blood from his suit, “I’m not tellin’ you shit.” He smears the blood on his fingers to the ground. Suddenly, he says your name, the smile returning to his face.

“What?” Cecil asks, confused. “How do you know her?” He asks.

“Does it matter?” The variant rolls his eyes. “Where is she? I want to talk to her.”

“Sorry to say, we can’t do that.” Cecil didn’t sound very sorry.

The variant clicks his tongue, “Damn, guess you’re not getting a word out of me then.” He leans against the wall smugly.

“You can rot in this cell then,” Cecil replies.

The variant snaps and then does finger guns, “Oooh, so you see, that won’t work.” He laughs loudly. “I mean you’ll die eventually. I have centuries to escape, and trust me...”

He leans towards the wall, placing his hands against it, “It will not take me a century to escape. You’re lucky if you last a week.” He pushes away from the wall, pacing in his room.

“Now, if you want answers. Bring her. It’s a win-win. I get the girl, you get your answers!” He grins widely, as if that’s a very fair deal.

Cecil sighs.

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

“Uh, what is it you need, sir?” You ask your boss over the phone.

“It appears that the Invincible variant we captured refuses to answer any questions,” Cecil responds, annoyed, looking over toward the variant, who is grinning with two giant thumbs up.

“Okay..?” You respond, not liking where this is headed.

“I hate to involve you again, kid, but he will only answer questions if you are there,” Cecil replies exasperated.

You are frozen for a moment; this monster almost killed you. Why on Earth could he possibly want to talk to you?

“..Which cell is he in?” You eventually concede. You can hear Cecil sigh in relief.

“Thank you, he’s in cell two hundred forty-three,” Cecil informs you.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You tell him before you hang up.

You grab all your stuff and begin your long trek to the special prison Cecil has. It’s supposed to be able to withstand anything, but after seeing Omni-Man take a nuke, you aren’t certain.

You eventually get down to that level, and the security asks for your identification. You scan your card before walking in. You see Cecil and Donald standing at the end of the row.

You slowly approach, “There she is! I was wondering if you were gonna show!” You hear Not Mark (at this point, that’s his new name) call.

“How long do I need to be here for?” You whisper to Cecil.

“Long enough to figure out why they’re here and who sent them,” Cecil responds, matching your volume.

“You got your wish, now can you answer our questions?” Cecil asks, crossing his arms.

“Mmmm, I don’t know.” He looks at you and frowns. “I thought it was just gonna be me and her.” He looks disappointedly at Cecil.

You and Cecil share a look, you nod at each other, before he looks down shaking his head. “Everybody out! You get ten minutes with her, nothing more.” He states before the area clears out.

You shift uncomfortably, he is just watching you. He seems content just to stare at you.

“What?” You ask, feeling scrutinized by his stare. He looks up at you, “You’re amazing.” He replies breathless.

You raise an eyebrow, “I’m amazing. After you told me that the other version of me you tortured was one of the best things you’ve done? Hate to break it to you, but I am just a normal person.” You cross your arms, looking at him. “I think you’ve noticed that already.”

He nods, “Of course I have. She was strong, sure, but you. You played me like a fool. When you hit me with that shoe at the end? Way to leave a guy with a cliffhanger.” He mockingly swoons.

You look at him unimpressed. “Very funny. Now we don’t have much time, so please just cooperate and answer these questions. It saves us both trouble.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Of course. What do you want to know?” He sits on the ground, criss cross, looking up at you like you hung the moon.

You ignore his gaze, “Why are you here?” You ask.

“Well… You see, I got into a fight with the Guardians. Oooh, I was so looking forward to actually fighting them. Instead, I met you.” He rests his elbows on his knees, holding his face with his hands.

“I was so enraptured by your presence that I got caught off guard.” He holds his hands out. “Now, I’m in prison.”

You look at him, glaring. “You know what I meant.”

He frowns, “Not big on jokes? We were chatting perfectly fine earlier.” He says to himself. You exhale annoyed.

“Sheesh, just playing! Okay, so this guy, right? He promised me the most fun dimensions for me to take over.” He shifts his weight onto his side.

“What was his name?” You ask.

“Angstrom Levy.” He says, and you freeze. “Oh, you’ve met?” He asks.

“Not personally, but I’ve heard stories.” You look down. “What exactly did he ask you all to do?” You ask.

“Eh, something about making everyone here fear Invincible. It seemed like he just wanted chaos, which I didn’t mind one bit.” He holds his hands up in surrender.

“How long are you guys meant to do this for?” You ask.

He shrugs, “Until he says stop, I guess.”

“And when would that be?” You walk up closer to his cell. He stands up, meeting your gaze. His eyes glance down at your lips.

“I…” He stares at your face, “have no idea.”

You frown, “Helpful.”

“I try to be.” He grins.

You shake your head, rubbing your temples. This is way above your paygrade. “So, let me get this straight: Angstrom Levy brought over a dozen different versions of yourself,” He nods, “and he just told you guys to ‘cause chaos.”

“Sounds about right.” He starts spinning his mask with his fingers again.

“And in return, he’d give you dimensions to conquer?” You frown.

“Yeeep.”

“So you have no idea why he wants you guys to cause chaos?” You lean up against the cell. He leans against his cell, too, mirroring your action.

“To be honest, I didn’t particularly care.” He taps his finger against the cell. “But, I do know the me of this dimension did something to piss him off.”

You think back to the whole incident with the Mauler Twins and the other incident where Mark almost killed him. “Oh.” You respond.

“‘Oh?’” He quotes. “You gonna share with the class?”

“I thought I was the one asking questions.” You look at him.

“And I answered! Come on, throw me a bone here, will you?” He grins at you, looking far more innocent than you know him to be.

You look at him unimpressed.

“Please?! Come on. There’s nothing fun around here. You’re my only source of entertainment right now.” He leans against the wall dramatically.

“Glad to know I’m contributing to your lack of entertainment.” You respond, detached.

“Aha! There she is! I was wondering if you left all your personality back where we met.” He snaps his fingers and does finger guns at you.

You look at him blankly. “Cecil will be back any moment now.” You begin to walk away.

“Wait, wait!” He calls out, and you pause.

“Will you come and visit me?” He asks, giving you false puppy dog eyes. You know if he wasn’t in that cell, he’d probably kill you.

You scoff but find yourself smiling, “Why, so I can be a source of entertainment for you?” You ask, walking back to his cell. He walks up to where you are, and you both stare each other down.

“Perhaps.” He grins.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look like you’re getting answers out of him.” Cecil walks in. You immediately distance yourself from the cell, breaking eye contact with Not Mark. He doesn’t move from where you two had your little staring competition.

“Forgive me, sir.” You look away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I did get answers, though.” You consciously ignore Not Mark, who is waving at you both to try and get your attention.

“We heard,” Cecil responds dryly, he does sound a bit amused though. He puts his hand on your shoulder, “Thanks for your assistance. Sorry we had to bring you out again for.. him.” You both turn to look at Not Mark, who grins innocently.

“Yeah, no problem.” You say, feeling as if it were very much a problem.

“Wait, Cecil, is she allowed to visit me?” Not Mark asks, butting into your conversation.

“That’s up to her.” Cecil says, at the same time you say, “It’s prohibited.”

You look at Cecil, distressed. “What? It pays to be in his good graces.” Cecil whispers to you.

“Yeah? What’s his good graces? Not breaking out and killing everyone?” You respond frustrated. Cecil raises an eyebrow before looking over at Not Mark. “Fair enough.” You sigh despondently.

“I can hear you two.” Not Mark comments helpfully.

You look at Cecil, and he nods. “You can head back now.”

You nod, “Thank you, sir.” You start to walk away, ignoring Not Mark’s cries of “Wait!” and “Don’t go!”

You walk past the security, giving a nod of acknowledgement. You walk into the elevator.

Once you arrive on the floor, you were supposed to be on (before all of that happened). You sit down at your desk, grabbing your stack of papers you threw aside earlier.

“How are the Guardians doing, or all the teams for that matter?” You ask your coworker, Bryan, casually.

He groans. “We’ve already seen at least three be eliminated or seriously injured.”

“Teams? Like they killed off entire teams?” You ask, shocked.

He nods, “Yep. Down and out.” He types frantically on his keyboard.

“…Have we managed to kill any of the Invincibles at all?” You ask hesitantly, unsure if you want to know the answer.

“At the moment? Four.” He responds.

“Oh, that’s more than I expected.” You look around the panicked room. Every person around you is frantically working. Crazy to think that not even 10 minutes ago you were talking to one of those Invincibles while everybody up here was stressing.

“Did you find out any valuable info from the one we captured?” Bryan asks.

“Not much. Levy sent him.” You start to log in to your computer.

“Levy? As in Angstrom Levy?” He asks, flabbergasted.

“Yep.” You pop your lips. “Turns out Mark didn’t kill him.”

“From what I heard, there was no way anybody could survive that.”

“Well, apparently he did. He wants revenge on Mark, I think.” You respond.

“Great, so he brought sixteen different Invincibles in order to kill our Invincible.” He sighs, pausing in his typing.

“Eh, basically. Apparently, they won’t stop causing damage until told to by Levy himself.” You tell him. “The captured one didn’t even know when that’d be.”

“Oh, so they could go on until they destroy the world?” Bryan laughs humorlessly.

“Yeah. I have no idea when—”

A loud crash resounds in the room. You and Bryan whip your heads around, looking at the giant hole in the ceiling. You look and see an Invincible floating over the rubble.

You quickly glance at Bryan before you both scurry out of the room. You start to run out when…

“HOLY SHIT!” You hear him yell. You turn around to look at him, narrowly missing the body that was flung inches in front of your face.

You stare in horror, watching as employee after employee is murdered. You begin to run again.

“Ugh damn it…” You frantically yank your heels off your feet. You run off to the exit. You, Bryan, and a few other coworkers manage to escape that room, but you can still hear the screams from where the crash was.

“Where is Cecil?!” Somebody asks. You shake your head. “Probably dealing with the other one we captured.” You groan. This Invincible is probably here to break that one out of prison.

“Let’s go, it’s safer in the halls than it is here.” You look at the remaining people, who nod. You start to run out again before the wall on your left explodes.

“Other way, other way!” You yell, panicked. You push back against the remaining people. They start to head in the other direction.

“Are all of you guys okay?” You ask. Out of the thirty of you in that room, seven (including you) made it.

“We should’ve just let him go.” You hear a coworker mumble, and everybody turns to look at them. “What? Am I wrong? This never would have happened if we didn’t keep that other one hostage.” You hear some murmurs of agreement.

“We don’t know that. The Pentagon might’ve been a target regardless of the Invincible we kept.” You frown, shaking your head.

“Yeah? Well, we can’t be too sure, can we? How about we find out, huh?” The worker pushes past you all, heading back into the original room.

“What are they doing?” Bryan asks. You all watch as they run to their death.

Suddenly, static cuts in from the PA speakers: “Cell two hundred and forty-three is open.”

You all sit in silence for a bit before some people in your group begin to sob.

The door the worker ran into earlier opens, and you all watch as a head rolls through the door. It is the head of that worker.

You all look up in horror. The Invincible variant crushes the head of the worker before looking up.

You, being in the back, turn in the opposite direction. You think you’ll take your chances with random exploding walls over that. Bryan notices, and you motion him to be quiet, and duck so that the variant doesn’t see you two escape.

You both crouch, walking in the other direction. The group is still back there facing off against that Invincible. Do you feel bad for leaving them there? Yes, but you can’t dwell on it. It’s either all of you die, or some of you die.

You don’t even hear the screams of them, just the wet slap of their bodies hitting the blood-soaked floor. You flinch, knowing that you two are now in plain view.

“Bryan, Bryan, we have to ru—” You turn to look at your friend, but pause in horror. The variant stabbed his hand right through him. You cup your hands up to your mouth, holding back a sob. You look at the variant before attempting to sprint away. You feel yourself get slammed into the wall, and you let out a soft “Oof!”

You look up in fear, the Invincible’s goggles block you from seeing his eyes. You can feel the tears roll down your face at this point. You don’t say anything, just stare at him silently as he raises his hand to strike you down.

Suddenly, you’re thrown to the ground, out of the Invincible’s grip. You look up.

“Dude, what are you doing here? God, you ruined my whole plan.” Not Mark pouts petulantly.

“I wasn’t aware you were here.” The other Mark replies.

“Well?” He does jazz hands. “I am! Now get out.”

“Sure, whatever, just let me kill the human first. Angstrom said kill as many as possible.

Within an instant, Not Mark tackles the other one, sending a cloud of dust throughout the entire area. You cough, watching in both awe and horror. You attempt to stand up, but feel a sharp pain in your leg.

“Agh… shit.” You whimper, an action that seems to catch Not Mark’s attention. Within a millisecond, he’s in front of you, “Do you trust me?” He asks.

You blink at him, feeling the gust of wind from him speeding towards you. “Absolutely not!” You suck in air from the pain.

He grins, “Great.” He then grabs you bridal style before blasting into the air.

“OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You attempt to yell over the rushing wind. You feel yourself suffocating, unable to breathe with the high speed and rushing wind.

“Aw shit, forgot humans can’t breathe when I move this fast. You think you can last a little longer?” You hear him ask. You try and nod, but can barely move against the strong force.

Eventually, you come to a stop, he places you down gently on the ground. “Do not move. Go inside that building, I’ll be back shortly.” He points to a relatively run down looking building.

“What?! Where did you drop me off-” You watch him speed off back into the sky. “Unbelievable!” You yell out to nobody. Who is going to believe this happened to you today? Nobody!

“I’m not waiting here, asshole.” You grumble to yourself.

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

You sigh, waiting inside the building.

“How long is his definition of ‘shortly'? It’s been days.” You lean your elbows on your knees.

Luckily, despite its run down appearance the place Not Mark dropped you off at has running water and food.

It took you a while to actually try and consume any of it, but you decided that you didn’t want to die in the middle of nowhere. You’ll take your chances. Worst-case scenario, Cecil pays for your healthcare. He is the one who put you in this situation anyway.

Suddenly, the door gets thrown open. You jump back into the corner of the room you’re in. You hear Not Mark call your name.

“Hellooo? Anybody here?” You hear him approach you before looking directly at you. “There she is!” He walks up to you.

You grimace in disgust, looking at him. He’s covered from head to toe in blood.

“What’s wrong?” He frowns. “Do I have something on my face?” He asks.

You look him up and down again, “Blood.” You respond disgustedly.

He blinks, confused, “You don’t like the blood? I thought you’d like it.” He looks at the ground as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “I’ll be right back.” He zooms out of the room, the door shutting itself behind him.

You look at the spot he was just at, unimpressed. Suddenly, the door opens again, and his suit is clean. You furrow your eyebrows, “How’d you clean it?” You ask.

“Flew to space and back. It comes off.” He mentions casually, as if that’s normal. “Anyway, ready to head home?” He grins, looking at you, holding his arms out ready to carry you.

You look at him, suspicious.

He rolls his eyes, “Oh come onnnn. If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve done that way earlier.” He raises a hand and waves it back. At your horrified expression, he elaborates, “I mean like… You know what I mean. I don’t want you dead. I kinda went out of my way to make sure you didn’t die.”

You nod, “Oh, yeah, okay… So I should just let you whisk me to who knows where.” You feign calmness.

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs before grinning widely. “OOH, unless you want to give me your address.”

You stare at him, trying to discern whether he is serious. He stares back, smiling, looking like a dog begging for a treat.

“No!”

“Worth a shot.” He sighs dejectedly.

He carries you back, flying a lot slower this time, but still fast enough where you can’t bring yourself to talk in fear of choking on air or on a bug.

You feel him gaze at you a couple of times and pointedly ignore his stare. Suddenly, he pauses, slowing to a stop mid-air. “What’s wrong?” You ask, panic growing.

You see him groan before throwing out some earpiece in his ear. “Oh, they didn’t take that out when you entered the Pentagon?”

“I don't know, I should be asking you that.” He leans down to your ear. “Hold on tight.” He whispers.

“What? OH MY—” You see him attack something. It explodes in the air. You both watch the debris fall onto the earth.

“What was that?” You ask, unsure if you want to know the answer.

“Angstrom.” He says, pulling you closer before flying back where he was originally headed.

You go the rest of the flight in silence. It wasn’t like you could talk if you wanted to. The wind made it difficult.

“Andddd we’re here. Wow, we really did a number on this place.” You look down, seeing half the Pentagon decimated.

Out of nowhere, ReAnimen jump up into the sky. Not Mark drops you out of surprise. You feel yourself fall, closing your eyes and bracing for the impact. God, was this finally it? After everything you survived today?

A pair of arms catch you, and you open your eyes to see the singular red light of a ReAniman. You try to lean back away from the undead creature. You know they work for Cecil, but it doesn’t mean that you have to like them.

“Oh, good you’re alive. How’d you live?” Cecil asks. You feel yourself questioning for a moment if he is actually happy to see you alive. You turn toward Not Mark. He is fighting the ReAnimen.

“Woahh, I never fought these guys in my world. They’re kinda fun.” He slams five of them using the body of one he already killed. “I killed you before you got the chance to create them, but man, Cecil. Good stuff.” He hovers over them.

“He saved me.” You tell Cecil, not exactly sounding enthusiastic.

He raises an eyebrow, “From the other one that came?” He asks, you nod.

“Hm…” He pauses, looking at the ground before pointing at you suddenly.

“What?” You whisper.

All the ReAnimen slowly turn their heads toward you. “Wait, Cecil, what are you doing?” You ask, panic growing. He looks at you coldly. “Cecil…” You try again.

Not Mark, noticing the lack of new opponents looks down. He spots you getting circled before he immediately dives in and lands right behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” He asks coldly. The grin on his face from the fight earlier is nowhere to be seen.

Cecil suddenly holds his hand up, and all the ReAnimen halt. “I see.” He says to himself. He says your name, “I apologize for my actions just now. I just had to…” He looks at Not Mark, “test something.”

You look at Not Mark and then Cecil. “Please tell me you aren’t thinking what I’m thinking.” You look at Cecil in disbelief.

“What is it?” Not Mark asks right behind you. You step forward to create some distance between you two, and he steps forward to compensate.

“Say, how about you work for the GDA, Mark?”

You and Not Mark both gape at Cecil before both of you simultaneously cry out:

“Are you SERIOUS?!”

“Oooh.” Not Mark laughs loudly. “Yeah, absolutely not. Why would I ever work for you?”

Cecil looks at you, his eyes seem sympathetic, yet unapologetic. “You can work with her.”

So now here you are. Watching an evil version of Invincible shake hands with Cecil Stedman. The deciding factor? Getting to work with you. Truly, you’d feel flattered if it were anybody else.

“Soooo we’ll be in contact?” Not Mark grins at you, leaning into your personal space. You step away from him, but he follows.

“Kill yourself.” You deadpan.

He smiles wider, and you know he heard it. “Now, is that how you talk to the person who saved your life? Oh, and your new coworker.” He removes his mask.

You feel your eye twitch. Is this seriously your life now?

“Why the long face?” He mocks your traumatized expression before breaking character and laughing loudly. “Come on, let’s get to work!” He floats up, flying in circles around you in the air like a hyperactive dog.

“This is my life now.” You tell yourself, Not Mark nods because of course he heard you.

“Our life now.” He grins at you.

You groan.

Quick A/N: Yes, yes, I'll get back to writing for Viltrumite Mark. Unless you guys want more of this. Either way Viltrumite Mark pt 3 is up next :D

#invincible fanfic #no goggles mark x reader #no goggles mark #no goggles invincible #invincible x reader #invincible x you #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x y/n #mark grayson x you #invincible

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writingsforfandoms-multi · 13 hours ago

Text

mr. jazz hands | michael robinavitch x reader

Warnings: medical inaccuracies

requested: yes :)

There's a reason why you didn’t go into the healthcare field.

Whenever you absolutely had to be around needles, such as for vaccinations or blood drawn, you always prepared beforehand. you always went with someone, usually a friend, but never ever alone. and you always always had airpods. you would plug them in your ears, play your favorite song, and close your eyes, never asking for a countdown, a countdown always made it worse, and never looking as the needle went in

so needing an IV, unexpectedly, was your worst nightmare right now.

you didn’t have anyone here to provide that comfort you needed and you most certainly didn’t have your airpods. you were brought into the ER after you passed out, but you woke up in the ambulance just in time to stop them from putting a needle in your arm.

“Ma’am, dehydration caused you to pass out. It’s standard to give fluids through an IV” the paramedic explained

“I understand that, and I’m not trying to be difficult, but I don’t do needles, can’t you just give me oral fluids or something?” you try to compromise. Next thing you know, you had arrived at PTMC and your stomach dropped.

“29 year old female, passed out after running a 10K, regained consciousness en route and has refused an IV” the paramedic reports to dr. langdon.

“y/n?” robby asks as he spots you from the nurse’s station

“You two know each other?” dr. langdon asks as his eyes dart between you two, holding back a smirk when he realizes that oh yes, robby definitely knows you.

“I got it from here dr. langdon” robby says as he takes over as primary physician. Once you’re settled in the room and after looking over your chart he says, “sweetheart I’m sorry but you need an IV” knowing you don’t do well with needles

“Nope, no chance. I don’t even have my airpods” you shake your head and he sighs.

“y/n! Good to see you again. Wish it was under better circumstances” dana says as she walks in and dons gloves. Her and robby figured it would help if the person inserting the needle was someone you knew

“Dana! Tell robby I’m fine and that an IV is just not necessary” you plead

“Sorry honey, but you need IV fluids” she says gently

“dana is the best, sweetheart, many many many decades of experience” robby tries to persuade

“careful, you’re making me sound old” she laughs, trying to put you at ease

“Fuck” you say under your breath, you were gonna be stuck with a needle today. Dana and robby both look at the screen as your heart rate shoots up to 115

“I need you to breathe baby” robby says softly and he grabs your hands in his, taking deep breaths for you to match with your own

Once your heart rate gets below 100, he gets this look on his face and starts doing the most randomest thing you've ever seen him do. He starts doing jazz hands.

“Robby, what in the world are you doing with your hands” you laugh

“Oh nothing, just do me a favor and indulge me for a minute” he says with a smile that melts your insides. With what he sees everyday, the moments are few and far between where you get to see him silly like this.

He starts waving his hands to the other side and you've never been more confused in your life until you feel a sharp needle stick you and your mouth drops as you look at dana in betrayal, “that wasn’t nice I thought we were friends” you say as tears well up in your eyes as you try to take a deep breath to not pass out again. Dana works quick, you’ll give her that.

“You did great sweetheart, you’re all done” robby says as dana connects the IV to fluids

“I’ll come back in later to check on you, okay?” dana says on her way out and you give her a nod in response

“You traitor” you say as you narrow your eyes at robby, but give him a small smile so he knows you’re joking

“I know, I’m sorry” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I’m totally getting you back for that, by the way, mr. jazz hands” you add with a laugh

“Okay, baby, okay” he chuckles

—

masterlist

#michael robinavitch x you #michael robinavitch x reader #the pitt fic #dr robby x y/n #dr robby x reader #dr robby imagine #robby robinavitch x you #robby robinavitch x reader #robby x reader #the pitt fanfiction

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kxsagi · 1 day ago

Note

hiiiiii, can you make reader giving the bllk boys a puppy or a kitten please? 🫶

(rin, bachira, reo, nagi, sae (+) maybe it’s their dream dog or cat :3

“𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞”

a/n: hiii ofc this is so cute ❤️

i, too, would name my pet yuzu

ft. itoshi rin, bachira meguru, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi

itoshi rin

rin does not ask for a kitten. rin does not want a kitten. rin receives a kitten anyway.

“what the hell is this.”

says that with a cat in his hoodie, purring on his chest, and his entire aura softened like a warm baguette fresh from the oven.

it’s a tiny grey one you found abandoned near your apartment, and when you bring it to him, you expect him to say no. instead, he stares at the mewling fluff ball for 0.2 seconds before going: “it’s cold. give me your blanket.”

cue you watching him spend 20 minutes constructing a blanket fort around it like a cat IKEA architect.

names it something really blunt like kuro. or neko.

says “don’t touch her too much. she’s scared.” like you’re the guest.

she ends up sleeping on his face. you take a picture. he threatens to burn your phone. doesn’t follow through.

bachira meguru

he almost cries when you show up at his door with a golden retriever puppy in your arms.

“NO. WAY. is that my son? IS THAT MY FUR SON???”

immediately drops to the floor and starts barking back. puppy’s barking. he’s barking. you’re filming. it’s a family moment.

names him “chompy.” refuses to explain.

goes on walks with him wearing matching jackets. even buys him goggles.

they’re inseparable. the dog howls when he leaves for practice. bachira howls back through the window.

teaches him stupid tricks like spinning in circles, headbutting people, and booping noses on command.

one day you come home to find him and the dog in a pile of treats on the floor. “he deserved a little snack party!” sure. and now your kitchen’s a crime scene.

mikage reo

reo stares at the calico kitten you brought like you stole her from a museum.

“she’s... beautiful. what if i’m not good enough for her?”

spoils her immediately. you are no longer his favorite girl.

gets her a princess-themed litter box. orders organic, salmon-glazed kibble with prebiotics. hires a cat nutritionist.

takes her to the vet in a designer carrier. wears sunglasses like he’s in a movie.

starts saying things like “i think she has an eye for luxury.” no, reo, she’s literally biting a sock.

names her something extra like lady caviar mikage III.

every time she lays on his chest he looks like he just got knighted.

she bit his finger once and he told you it was “because he deserved it.”

nagi seishiro

stares at the puppy you give him for a solid minute like it’s a math equation.

“... is it maintenance?”

you promise to do most of the work. nagi: “okay. sick.” two days later, he’s carrying it in his hoodie like it’s his new spawn.

puppy’s just as lazy as him. sleeps 22 hours a day. they nap together like matching plush toys.

names it something weird like tofu.

“don’t touch tofu, he’s resting.” he says, with tofu upside-down on his lap, tongue out like a slug.

tries to train him by just looking at him. no commands. just vibes.

when it works once (she sits), nagi gets so smug. “we understand each other. no need to talk.”

takes him to convenience stores in a sling like a baby. asks if he can get a dog discount. you leave him outside on purpose.

itoshi sae

gives you a blank stare when you drop the orange tabby into his arms.

“... what’s this?”

“love.”

raises a brow. but the cat headbutts his chin and immediately starts purring like a chainsaw and you see the pixelation of his soul.

acts cool and unaffected at first. until you catch him letting her sleep in his suitcase. and using a fake voice to talk to her.

“what do you want, you little gremlin. yeah? food? yeah? you wanna destroy my couch again?”

names her yuzu. pretends it’s random. actually named her after your favorite drink.

goes full tsundere. “she’s not mine, she just follows me around.” she literally sleeps on his laptop keyboard while he works.

lowkey checks his camera roll every night to make sure she’s in at least five new pictures.

“if anything happens to her, i’m suing god.”

isagi yoichi

when you surprise him with a shiba inu puppy, he screams.

“IS THIS REAL?? ARE YOU REAL?? ARE WE MARRIED???”

immediately puts him on his Instagram story with “me & my son 🥹”

names him something super normal like mochi. acts like it’s the most creative name on earth.

treats the puppy like a teammate. “good job, bud! way to poop outside!!”

you walk in on him training drills with the dog. like. actual cone drills. baby shiba zooming through like a pro athlete.

"he's got stamina. he could play for bastard in five years."

buys a matching hoodie for all three of you. “family fit check!!”

cries a little when the puppy licks his face for the first time. “he loves me.”

sometimes falls asleep with him on the couch and mumbles in his sleep: “pass it here, mochi…”

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #meguru bachira x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #this ain't even about soccer anymore

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neeeooon · 3 days ago

Note

HELLO! i JUST finished catching up with wind breaker and its soo so good 🥹 I LOVED EVERYTHING ABOUT IT! and i was so happy when i found out YOUR blog had wind breaker fics because i love and adore ur writing smm 🥹🩷🩷

i was just wondering if i could request like a headcannons format with umemiya, sakura, kiryu, and any other charac of ur choice!! with a hurt/comfort scenario that reader is upset (not because of them) but reader is kind of just really tired and ignores the characterss. they could be in an established relationship or not!! up to youu!

also, just thank you so muchh! ur writing has genuinely cheered me up a lot of times 🫶🫶

YESSS TY FOR THE REQ MY LOVE 🫶🌺

how they cheer you up

bf wbk x upset gn!reader. hurt-comfort, fluff

umemiya hajime

-> you look like a kicked dog, yet he’s the one in pain

-> “y/n?” umemiya asks in a gentle voice as he kneels beside you, a hand flat against your back. “is everything okay? you look a little sad..”

-> you usually love helping him with his garden, but not even that is cheering you up. you look up at him with shaky eyes and sigh. “no…”

-> and umemiya panics. “did i do something? is there anything you need? if you want, i can—“ “no, no, it’s nothing like that. i’m just feeling a little down, i promise. it’s not you.”

-> so it’s not him, but it’s something. umemiya works his jaw before slipping his hands beneath your arms and hauling you to your feet. “wha—“ “come on. let’s get out of here.” “but the garden…” “sugishita can take care of it! right, sugishita?” sugishita nods a bit too enthusiastically

-> you spent the rest of the day with umemiya, simply enjoying your time together. he bought you a plushie penguin at the aquarium and got you takeout from pothos. “feeling better?” he asks once you’re halfway through your omlette rice. “mhm. thank you, ume.”

sakura haruka

-> he doesn’t know what to do when you arrive to meet him at pothos without your normal blinding smile. he knows for sure that something’s wrong when you sit down and stare without a hello

-> he’s immediately angry with himself. he must have done something to upset you. did he miss a text? was there something he forgot to do for you? ears red, sakura sinks into his chair and asks, “what did i do?”

-> your gaze snaps up to meet his, and now you’re feeling worse because you didn’t mean to be so obvious. you were upset over something trivial, yet seemed to be taking it out on your boyfriend

-> shaking your head, you explained that it’s not him. you’re just having a bad day. when sakura stands suddenly, your gaze follows from his blushing cheeks to his outstretched hand. “come on.”

-> he takes you to a bench overlooking the river, where pretty pink cherry blossom petals drift into the water. “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. i’m here, though… if you want.”

kiryu mitsuki

-> kiryu has his head resting on an open palm, leaning his elbow against the table as he watches you pick mindlessly as your nail

-> when you fail to volunteer any information, your boyfriend straightens and reaches across the table to caress your hand. “what’s on your mind, hm?”

-> too much. not enough. you sigh and slip your fingers from beneath his, which immediately freaks him out. “are you mad at me? today isn’t a special date, is it?”

-> the guilt crashes into you and you quickly pick his hand back up. “i’m sorry. it’s not you. things at work have been.. weird? i don’t know.”

-> kiryu brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “what do you wanna do? we don’t have to stay here, we can go eat or just hang out and do nothing. we’ll make it a you day, hm?” you nearly cry tears of relief as you let kiryu pull you out of your chair. “i want to be lazy and do nothing, and i want to do it with you.”

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orellazalonia · 1 day ago

Text

Certified Genius, Unlicensed Moron

Summary: Exploring more of your relationship and dynamics with the rest of the Avengers, they are well-acquainted with how much whiplash and how many headaches you give them on a daily. (Bucky Barnes x Avengers!reader)

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: The other going on dates fic didn’t have enough unhinged questionable reader for me. And to be honest….I didn’t like it as much as the prequel. So! I wrote this to cheer me up and feed my need for dumb & genius reader. Purely self-indulgent but hopefully you like it too. Happy reading!!!

Main Masterlist | Original Fic

Being an Avenger came with certain expectations. Tactical prowess. Cool one-liners. Teamwork. A mild-to-moderate understanding of physics.

You had exactly none of that. And yet, you were thriving.

You had taken on aliens, mercenaries, HYDRA agents, and that one time, an actual raccoon with a vendetta. You once guessed the password to a SHIELD vault on the first try by inputting “boob69.” It worked. Nobody ever explained why. You were untouchable.

But nothing broke the team more than the group chat.

It had been a standard team communication channel at first: briefings, updates, emergency alerts. Then you joined and everything fell apart.

GROUP CHAT: “Earth’s Mightiest Dumbasses”

Tony: Meeting in the conference room at 9 A.M. sharp.

You: what’s 9 AM in frog time

Natasha: What does that mean?

You: like if a frog wears a watch is the time upside down

Tony: Please, I’m begging you to just answer the question like a normal person.

You: normal is a strong word

You once sent a photo of a pigeon wearing a hat with the caption “me when I infiltrate enemy lines.” No one questioned it. Mostly because they couldn’t.

After all, you’re the same person who confidently gave a TED Talk about the strategic history of medieval siege warfare mid-mission while wearing Crocs. The same person who once said, “Vibranium tastes like disappointment,” and then refused to elaborate. You somehow manage to both ace every debrief but also once asked if Wi-Fi is just helpful air soup.

Thor called you “small thunder” after you electrocuted yourself trying to microwave aluminum “as a science experiment.” You did not have lightning powers. It was just dumb luck. And you’d do it again.

GROUP CHAT:

Clint: who the hell labeled all the fridge items in latin?

You: idk man maybe someone wants you to be cultured

Bucky: You labeled the eggs, “Future ankle peckers, do not anger them”

You: ...and have you been attacked? no? you’re welcome.

Bucky still doesn't understand you. Not even a little.

And a lot of times, that haunts him.

He watches you eat hot sauce straight from the bottle like it's a health tonic, quote Shakespeare when you’re tired, and wear mismatched crocs into certain battles because "they're my war shoes." One has a tiny sword glued to it.

You once looked him dead in the eye and said, “I wasn’t born. I was assembled in a Target parking lot during a thunderstorm.”

And then walked away.

He’s been thinking about it for months.

Another time you brought him a bag of gummy worms, patted his head, and said, “For when the depression demons attack.”

Despite all your nonsense, he can’t stop looking at you like you hung the moon with glitter glue and then ate half of it because that brand “smelled like frosting.”

He had tried to pretend you’re a nuisance at first, shaking his head and sighing at some of your antics. But it’s all morphed to reluctant acceptance of the fact that he’ll have to live with so many unanswered questions. That doesn’t stop him from taking care of you though.

He brings you hot chocolate after missions. He makes sure you’re behind him when it gets dangerous. He drags you out of fountains you jump into because you wanted to know what the regals birds like about it. He even downloaded TikTok just to understand your references.

One time you disappeared in the Tower. For five hours.

He found you in the broom closet, sitting cross-legged with three Roombas, wearing a crown made of forks.

“They know secrets,” You whispered. “I’m learning their ways.”

Bucky blinked.

“…I brought you pizza.”

You gasped. “I knew the prophecy would come true.”

GROUP CHAT:

Steve: Can someone explain what this is?

Image attached: You in a vent near the ceiling wearing a bad ghost outfit like a cursed Halloween decoration, eating Cheez-Its.

You: surveillance

Steve: Why…

You: i wanted to know what Bucky does when I’m not looking

Bucky: They’ve been up there for 6 hours. I offered help. They hissed at me.

Despite it all, you were deadly in the field.

You’d spout off the periodic table in the middle of a fistfight, pull off gravity-defying stunts “because I saw it in a cartoon once,” and solve encrypted Hydra codes in 30 seconds, all while questioning if Mickey Mouse and his friends ever had to pay rent to live in the Mickey Mouse clubhouse.

Bucky, your begrudgingly loving boyfriend, no longer reacts when you do things like wear medieval armor to a stealth op for morale reasons or quote Shrek during hostage negotiations. He just quietly takes your hand and steers you away before you lick anything radioactive.

Steve once asked why you were on a mission wearing roller skates. You said, “Speed and style, Cap,” then crashed directly into a vending machine and pulled out a single uncrushed Twix with solemn reverence.

Tony called you “the human embodiment of a broken Google search.” Wanda called you “a mystery I’ve chosen not to solve.” Natasha just called you “terrifying.”

Because for every baffling thing you did, like calling her “Mom” during a sniper stakeout because “you give off stern PTA energy”, you turned around and cracked encrypted intel before Bruce finished making coffee.

Once, in a mission briefing, Rhodey asked, “Wait, wasn’t the Hindenburg caused by a gas explosion?” and you, dead serious, replied, “Who’s the Hindenburg? That sounds like a guy who collects teeth.”

Everyone went dead silent.

Sam just nodded slowly and said, “Right, okay. Yeah, cool. This is the part where I stop paying attention.”

Nobody could figure you out.

Bruce once ran 14 psychological profiles on you. None of them matched. One came back as possibly a goat in human form.

Clint swears you once explained string theory using sock puppets and a waffle. And it made sense.

GROUP CHAT:

Tony: I’m updating the security protocol. Everyone needs to re-register their biosignatures.

You: what if I am a security risk

Tony: You are. Absolutely. Every day. In every way.

You: then I win

Natasha: What did you win?

You: You’ll see 😈

Tony: I have forgotten what peace feels like anymore.

You called yourself “The Distractinator” in combat.

Enemies didn’t know what to do with you. Were you a genius? Crazy? Feral? Was that a printer you just threw at their face while quoting Pride and Prejudice?

Yes. To all of it.

And somehow, impossibly, you were everyone’s favorite. Because while you were a chaos gremlin of untold magnitude, you cared.

You noticed when Clint seemed tired and unorthodoxically left snacks in his quiver.

You taught Steve how to use TikTok but made sure to curate only dog videos and motivational frog memes.

You convinced Bucky he could wear purple and look amazing. He does now. Regularly.

You helped Tony fix a faulty AI loop by accident while trying to build “a blender that screams.”

You’re not just a part of the team. You’re the emotional support cryptid.

And no matter how many explosions you cause with your “experiments,” or how many philosophical debates you start about whether lasagna is a cake, the Avengers wouldn’t trade you for the world.

…Though Tony did try to sell you to the X-Men once.

It didn’t work.

They sent you back with a fruit basket and a strongly worded letter.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic #self indulgent #unhinged!reader #chaotic!reader #avengers group chat #marvel x reader

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angel4astraea · 3 days ago

Text

꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ft. athletic trainer!hajime iwaizumi ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ content warnings: sfw/nsfw work, petnames used (angel, sweetheart, pretty, baby), praise, car sex teehee, female pronouns used. ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ a/n: RAAAGHHH, i swear im not ovulating!! inspired by this: nsfw link

Firm believer that Hajime Iwaizumi is a perfect man. Let me explain:

Hajime would do whatever you’d ask him to in a heartbeat, just use manners and your big eyes to rope him in. If you need him to carry bags or boxes? He’s in, let him use his muscles to do the heavy work, angel. What about picking up groceries you forgot? Send him the list and he’s got it, right down to the right brand so that his girl’s cravings are satiated. Oh, the time you rolled your ankle while trying to keep up with him on the morning run? He carried you on his back the rest of the way without a single complaint.

That’s how whipped he would be.

Hell, he even wears his own promise ring around his left ring finger to shoo off women trying to flirt with him. Hajime is dedicated to the pretty lady who waits for him to return from his work. Though, he hopes to have a wedding ring of his own after he finds the right ring to propose to you. God, he’d love to have a small gemstone in his thick ring that reminds him of your eyes.

Hajime would find other ways to satiate you.

If you needed him biblically after seeing him try on suits for a friend’s wedding, he’d oblige. The look in your eyes would be telling him to hurry up, pick the one you like and let’s get out of here. And he doesn’t need more than five minutes.

“Haj,” You plead, “Hurry..”

God, he was going to lose his mind before he even kissed you.

Hajime had parked behind some stores, somewhere secluded. He made sure the emergency break was on before reaching over and pushing your seat back. Without much thought of how elegant it was going to be, he climbed over the centre console and into the space before your seat. A little cramped, but better than driving another twenty minutes and barely making it into the front door.

He took another quick glance around outside before leaning down for a hungry kiss. His teeth nipped your bottom lip, dragging the glossy skin out while you whined in protest. The ache between your legs almost hurt, hips bucking to meet his clumsily. That’s when he pulled away to strip the skirt you were wearing, alongside those turquoise panties, tossing them both onto the driver’s seat.

Hajime groaned when he felt how warm and slick you were already, all from eye fucking him in the tailor and a little kissing. “Perfect, so perfect sweetheart.” He said softly before working you open on his fingers: one, then two fingers, three after a few minutes. Curling them with some light force was enough to make your toes curl and thighs clamp around his hips.

Removing his fingers from your warmth, it felt like grief. Though, through kisses he promised to make the ache go away. He always does, especially when it brings tears to your eyes. Hajime undid his belt and buttons, sliding his cock past his boxers and taps the tip against your clit. Once, twice, then thrice. Your hips twitch, sensitive nerves haywiring your brain. So close to getting what you want, no, need.

Pushing in, Hajime drops his forehead to your shoulder. His right hand keeps him from crushing you, gripping the middle compartment. He starts off slow, testing the waters while observing your face.

“How you feelin’, hm?” He starts, tone low but knowing. “Feel good, angel?”

Oh god, he might kill you too. You nod and let your limbs relax, already feeling like jell-o. When he saw your little nod, he smirked softly and began to move his hips a little faster. The sound of skin hitting skin was loud in the cramped space, fog creeping up the windows. Small praises hit your ears, but did it sink in much? No, not when he was making you cream on him.

“Doin’ so well..”

“C’mon pretty, take what you need..”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m all yours.”

Gentle words and never mean, that’s how Hajime was. It always hit the spot, well, other than his tip inside you. It wasn’t much longer with his tip hitting the little spot inside of you until you twitched, squeaked and wriggled around in the seat. White cream formed around the base of his cock, a medal of the sort from his meticulous work.

With a rather deep thrust, it sent you over the edge. Your hands gripped his biceps tightly, nails paid by him digging into his skin. His lips found yours as he slowed down, your walls milking him for his worth.

“Fuck, baby.” He laid his head on your shoulder before pulling out, reaching to open the middle console. Baby wipes saved a lot of time with clean up, calloused hands cleaning you gently, words cooed at you for being so good, so patient.

Yeah, he’s a fucking dream.

#fem reader #haikyuu smut #headcannon #reader #haikyu #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime smut #iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer

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mannythemunchkin · 3 days ago

Note

You already know why I’m here. Sitting in Poseidon’s lap, please and thank you 😌🔱🌊

Of course. Ask and I shall provide, friend. 🙂‍↕️🌸 Enjoy~

🫧Sitting in Poseidon's lap🫧

“Lean your head back a bit, Guppy.” Poseidon instructed, his voice slightly muffled from the comb he had between his teeth. You were nestled in his crossed legs, wiggling excitedly as he threaded his fingers through your hair with almost reverent care, his brows furrowed in concentration. You did as you were told, craning your neck slightly back, and you felt his calloused fingers brush against your forehead and temples as he maneuvered a few stray locks of hair back with the rest, before he began meticulously weaving one braid along your temple.

“And please, sit still.”

A soft, amused laugh left you at his slightly irritated tone, which held no bite, only fondness, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself enough to stop your excited movements in his lap.

Never had you imagined that your divine lover would have offered to help you with your hair for an event, but when he had arrived earlier in the day, seeing you huff and puff at your vanity, he had guided you to sit on the bed, grabbing your comb along the way, and was now carefully braiding your hair. Closing your eyes, you let out a contented hum and focused on the gentle caress and motions of Poseidon's skilled fingers doing their magic on your unruly hair.

“What is this event again?” He questioned from behind you, now weaving another braid along the opposite temple after having secured the first one with the comb somehow. Out of reflex you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, only for Poseidon to give you a small glare, before firmly positioning your head like he wanted with a soft grunt. You apologized with a small chuckle, and closed your eyes again before answering. “It's a charity event. There'll be an auction, which I will be in charge of.” You explained, your hands beginning to fiddle with the sash of your dress as the anxiety of hosting said auction began rearing its ugly face.

The hands in your hair momentarily paused before resuming their work, and Poseidon sounded a small hum. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, even as you kept nervously fidgeting with the sash in your lap. You felt Poseidon's hands and fingers linger on some spots as he worked, a fingertip tracing the shell of your ear, a thumb subtly rubbing gentle circles at your nape and his fingers massaging your scalp soothingly. There was a gentle gust of wind that blew over your neck, and a small shiver went through you. Opening your eyes, you glanced back at him through your peripheral, curious as to what he was doing, the gust of wind a sign of him using some sort of divine power.

“You'll see soon enough, Gem.” You narrowed your eyes slightly at Poseidon's words, his knowing smirk evident in his voice, so you just huffed in half-hearted annoyance. An amused chuckle sounded behind you, and you felt Poseidon fasten several things into the braids. “There. Give me your phone.” Without looking back, you handed him your phone, and a few seconds later you heard the telltale sign of a picture being snapped before you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back against his chest. You craned your neck back, this time to look up at him, and he leaned down slightly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, before holding your phone up in front of you, and a soft gasp escaped you when you saw what he had to your hair.

Two medium sized braids went from your temples, combining into a single big one, the braids were weaved loosely, and inserted between the strands were pearls and crystal clear droplet shaped gems of various sizes, but none bigger than a fingernail. Before Poseidon could even react, you had snatched the phone out of his grasp, zooming in on the picture, studying the intricate braids and the beautiful ornaments he had decorated them with, your jaw dropped in awe. “Seidon, wha- how-” Words failed you as you took in the beautiful hairdo on your phone screen. You could scarcely believe that it was your hair if it wasn’t for him having obviously just styled it. Poseidon merely chuckled, highly amused by your stunned awe, and he rested his chin on your shoulder to look at the picture alongside you.

“Millennia of practice, Guppy. And a little divine bedazzling. I believe you called decorating something with shiny and sparkling objects that.” He hummed as he turned his head to place a soft kiss against your temple, careful not to disturb his hard work, before trailing his lips down the side of your neck in chaste, soothing kisses. “You’re anxious about tonight, so I thought that if you felt like the most beautiful woman at the event, which you would have been regardless of the braid and accessories, it’d help boost your self-esteem.” Poseidon muttered in a gentle, reassuring voice, which was slightly muffled by speaking against your bare shoulder. Gently, he pried the phone from your hands, tossing it carefully onto the corner of the bed, before he turned you in his arms so you’d be facing him, and a large hand cupped your jaw. You looked up at him with big, grateful eyes, and you threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you.”

Poseidon smiled fondly at your softly spoken words, and he held you tightly against him, his lips pressing a loving kiss just behind your ear, his lips moving up to trail along the shell of your ear, his teeth barely grazing the sensitive skin as he sweetly whispered into it.

“You’re going to do amazing tonight, my heart. And when you get home, we’ll celebrate your debut as an event host together, yeah?”

#epic the musical #poseidon x reader #poseidon epic the musical #poseidon #epic the musical x reader #epic x reader #fluff #sweet lover Poseidon #modern times #i'm not good with historical settings oop-#manny answers #moots - proverb #asks #request

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mymoodwriting · 1 day ago

Text

4.8k, yandere, model/actress!reader, CEO!Jeonghan, power play, brat behavior, brat taming, stalking, harassment, paparazzi, forced hiatus, kidnapping, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, smut, restraints, minor BDSM, handjob, groping, fingering, penetration, creampie, possessive behavior

A/N: Surprise! This is my piece for the collab I'm co-hosting with @sanaxo-o as well as something written for them at their own request. I hope you enjoy!

“No comment.”

You got into the back of your limo while keeping a calm composure. As soon as the door was shut you sighed in relief and took off your sunglasses. The latest scandal getting all the media attention was about how you were secretly dating the male lead of the drama you had made a cameo in. Of course his fans were mad and throwing all kinds of hate your way. The pictures going around showed the two of you having dinner together in a private room, sitting side by side and looking so happy and in love. It wasn’t actually a date but you were really enjoying yourself, and everyone loves to spin a good story. Although it was a secret outing that your company didn’t know about, until now that is.

When your phone started buzzing in your purse you already knew who was calling, but you weren’t in the mood for a scolding. You’d be at your company soon enough, and then you’d get an earful in person. Your phone kept ringing for a while but you continued to ignore it, wanting to enjoy what was left of your peace. Thankfully the building had a private entrance, so once past the main gate you didn’t have to worry about reporters, but it was better to remain cautious until you were inside. It was only until you were in the elevator that you could relax a bit, heading up to the top floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened your manager was there to greet you, a look of disappointment on their face.

“What the hell were you thinking!?”

“I deserved to be invited out for a meal.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“It wasn’t a real date. He just wanted to give me pointers for future acting gigs.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

“But it’s what you’ll tell the press, right?”

“… the Ceo wants to see you.”

“Obviously. Let’s get this over with.”

You made your way to the CEO’s office, not even bothering to knock and just letting yourself in, plopping down on the couch. You pulled out your phone and dismissed all the missed calls you had, going onto the internet to see what the latest articles were saying about you. Although you didn’t get to see anything as your phone was snatched from you.

“What have I told you about secret outings?”

“Don’t get caught.”

“I see you’re being smart today.”

“I’m very intelligent, thanks for noticing.”

“Except when it comes to sneaking around apparently.”

“It’s not my fault those reporters are stalking me! Why can’t you get a restraining order? Isn’t that your job?”

“I’m not a fixer, I’m the CEO of the company you represent and work for! It’s not my job to fix this mess of yours.”

“But you’ll do it anyway, right?”

“… why were you out with that man?”

“Jealous?”

“Answer me, y/n.”

You sighed. “He asked me out for dinner, wanting to talk about my career. I figured getting close to someone like him could help me get bigger roles in future projects.”

“And do you still think that’s gonna happen?”

“Absolutely. Those pictures show we have great chemistry, and I could be a wonderful love interest. Of course they were taken out of context but can still work to our benefit.”

“Our benefit?”

“I’m here to make you money, aren’t I?”

“Not at the moment. You’re going on hiatus.”

“What!? You can’t do that! I didn’t do anything wrong! Those reporters-”

“Just a week. A statement will be put out explaining that the dinner was a business venture and was rudely intruded upon. Then just let it all die down.”

“Fine.”

“Your manager is already re-working your schedule. So just keep a low profile and stay home.”

“Thanks, Jeonghan.” You cheered. “You’re the best. I’ll head back home now. So can I have my phone back?”

“I’m not done with you.”

“Hm? What else is there?”

Jeonghan walked back to his desk, turning off your phone and placing it in his desk drawer. You huffed, realizing your phone was confiscated for the week.

“Jeonghan…” You whined. “My phone.”

“You’ll get it back after your hiatus.”

“Jeong-”

“Were you on a date?”

“… hm… does that matter?”

“Yes.”

You chuckled. “It wasn’t a date, at least not to me. I just wanted a free meal and some advice.”

“Well, it turned out great didn’t it.”

“Enough already, you said I’m on hiatus and the company will put out a statement. So, do I get my phone?”

“No. I don’t want you on socials reading articles, or worse, leaving comments.”

“You’re also putting me on a tech ban!”

“If you can’t be trusted to honor it you can spend your hiatus at my home under close observation.”

“Uh, no thanks, I like my privacy.”

“Sure. I’ll see you in a week.”

The discussion was over and you returned back home. You took a different route and didn’t have to worry about any reporters. It was gonna be a long week, but you figured you could catch up on some sleep and really take care of yourself. Although Jeonghan was serious about the tech ban. You didn’t have your phone, and the wi-fi in your place was temporarily suspended. At least you still had access to your cards, so you could buy groceries to cook or pick up some food. It wasn’t good to go out much, so you put on a disguise yourself and made a trip to gather everything you’d need for your hiatus. Then you just relaxed and enjoyed your vacation. Towards the end you did get a bit antsy, just wanting to get back in your spotlight, so you practically slept a day away.

The next morning you were happy to see your chauffeur and eager to return to your place of work. Your first stop was going to be to the CEO’s office cause you desperately wanted your phone back. This tech ban was good for your mind and your eyes, but you missed your phone dearly. When you arrived your manager was there to greet you, wanting to talk about your schedule. You did have a photoshoot scheduled for the afternoon, but you were more focused on other things. As usual you didn’t knock and just let yourself in. There you found Jeonghan on the phone, and he quickly put a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet. You sat down as he finished his call about who knows what, waiting patiently.

“Did you miss me?”

“I had some peace and quiet while you were gone.”

“Don’t say that!”

“But it’s true.”

“Whatever. Can I have my phone back now?”

“Are you going to behave?”

“I always behave. I’m not the problem in all these scandals and you know it.”

“You’re the common factor among them.”

“Am I gonna get my phone back or not?”

“Yes, yes, here.” Jeonghan retrieved your phone and held it out to you. “Just promise me you won’t sneak around anymore. When you do that you’re playing with fire.”

“And you’re my fire extinguisher, aren’t you?”

You happily took back your phone, eager to turn it on and see what you had missed. There was no point in dwelling on the past, but you did want to look over all the articles that had been written about you.

“Shouldn’t you be going? You have a photoshoot this afternoon.”

“I know, I know, I just have a lot to catch up on. I’ll see you later.”

“You’ll see me sooner than you think.”

🖤

The photoshoot you were participating in wasn’t one that needed to be rescheduled. It was for a new product launch, and the premier date was still a few weeks out, so your latest scandal wouldn’t affect anything. While you got your hair and makeup done you browsed your phone, reading some articles that had come out about you. The professional ones talked about the dangers of misinterpretation and jumping to conclusions. While the hateful fan made ones just made you laugh. They were trying to come after you one way or another, even mentioning past scandals but you were lucky to have your own fanbase coming to your defense in the comments. You’d love to do something to thank them, so you’d talk to your manager about it later.

“The second you get that back you’re glued to it.”

“Hm?”

You looked over to see Jeonghan at your side, rather surprised to see him. You were about to ask what he was doing when he took your phone from you.

“The shoot is starting, go on now.”

You heard the photographer calling for the models, so you got up and went over, still curious as to why Jeonghan was present. Your manager was still here, but you had to put your questions aside and focus on the shoot. The whole time Jeonghan was watching, but you couldn’t really see him behind the camera. It wasn’t until you had a break that you approached him, wanting your phone back more than anything.

“Why are you here anyway?” You questioned. “People have already moved on from that not-date thing with a co-star.”

“Perhaps, but there are still people watching. So, I should make sure you behave.”

“Don’t you have a company to run?”

“Keeping you out of trouble helps the company overall.”

“If you say so.”

Jeonghan took your phone back when you resumed the shoot. He stuck around for the whole thing, waiting around for you to get out of hair and makeup and then escorting you to the van. Unsurprisingly there were some reporters waiting outside for you. They were snapping pictures and asking about your old scandal. Jeonghan gave you a warning look, so you knew it best to keep quiet. That is until someone dared to say something so absurd.

“Did you try to sleep with him because you know your modeling career is coming to an end!?”

“Wat-!?”

You were ready to snap back at whoever dared to say such a crude thing, but just as you opened your mouth you suddenly found a lollipop pushed past your lips. You glanced over at Jeonghan who just gave you a smile and opened the van door for you, ushering you to get in. You did so, sucking on the lollipop until you were on the road, your manager at the wheel driving as usual.

“We should sue them all for defamation.”

“That won’t change anything.”

“So we just let them continue to be disrespectful? This kind of stuff isn’t good for my mental health, you know.”

“Yet who keeps causing trouble?”

“I don’t do anything on purpose!”

“Right.”

“Whatever. Are you gonna keep following me on my schedules?”

“Until I deem you can be on your own, yes.”

“That’ll be fun.”

Jeonghan kept to his words and accompanied you on your schedules. He’d always confiscate your phone, probably checking your browsing history and stuff. It didn’t bother you much, just an extra helping hand for you.

“When did you reschedule that beauty shoot for? It’s the only schedule I haven’t made up.”

“We were unable to reschedule that one.”

“What? Why?”

“Conflict with availability. We told them we’d make it up somehow.”

“Oh, a different product then, or maybe-”

“We’ll have you participate in something else under that company.”

“… like what?”

“The company has launched a new arts and crafts kit. They wanted someone to demonstrate it with a group of kids and it seemed good for your image.”

“What!?”

“Your cameo in that last drama you did was as a teacher, so it’s a nice touch too.”

“No, no, no, Jeonghan, you know I hate dealing with kids! Haven’t you punished me enough?”

“I haven’t.”

“But-”

“You’re not getting out of this shoot. If you think you’re gonna be sick that day I’ll take you to see a doctor beforehand.”

“Jeongie, please.”

“I already have the outfit for the day picked out. Remember to smile and be kind, the kids are excited to learn. Don’t worry though, I will be accompanying you as well.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

Every now and then you had to do something you didn’t like, but this was the first time Jeonghan would be watching you like a hawk. The day of the shoot you were given an overview of the product and then went before a group of kids to show it off. Just like any shoot this took hours, and you had to engage with all the kids. Helping them glue things together and decorate. By the end your clothes were ruined and you were gonna need a deep shower to get all the glitter off. The staff thanked you for doing this, and you took lots of pictures with the kids and their creations. Not to mention some parents wanted autographs too. You knew this was all good for your image but my gosh did you hate it.

“You did good today.”

“Fuck you.”

“Easy, there are children around.”

“They’re all gone.”

“You can’t be sure. Let’s get you back to the office and clean you up.”

“Ugh, I feel so messy.”

“You’re fine.”

“I still hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.”

You thought after a week Jeonghan would leave you alone, but no, he was still attending schedules with you. It wasn’t hard to see him as part of your team, but you had to admit it was worrying you a bit that he was still hanging around. He really wasn’t gonna let you off the hook so easily this time. That last scandal wasn’t even really your fault, but you couldn’t really argue with Jeonghan. Instead you focused on your current job, glad to be working with models you were familiar with. The shoot was a promotional one for an upcoming fashion show you’d be participating in. It’s been a while since you’ve done a show, so you were looking forward to this. Although this shoot was going to be longer than others since you had a multitude of outfits to get through. You didn’t mind since this was more enjoyable with friends.

“You should keep a distance from the other models.”

You chuckled. “Excuse me? Do you hear yourself, Jeonghan? This is a photoshoot, we need to put our hands on each other and whatnot.”

“Your last scandal came from you being too close to a man.”

“Again, this is modeling, it’s not my first time holding hands with a man for the camera. Unlike that last situation, I am fully consenting to have my picture taken.”

“Y/n.”

“Jeonghan, I’ve worked with these models before, and people know we’re all being professional here. If you’re jealous just say so.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“Sure it isn’t.”

You never thought Jeonghan was the jealous type. He seemed so perfect and composed that his confidence would not waver. You didn’t know if he ever dated, but this behavior from him was unexpected. You were just another model in his company, yet he’s been hanging around you a lot and seems to have a problem with you being around other guys. It was ridiculous really, and it was probably about time you spoke up. Besides, having him watch you like a hawk was a bit unnerving.

“Hey, why don’t we all go out for some food?”

“Oh, that sounds-”

“No.” Jeonghan interrupted. “Y/n needs to be heading home and resting. Perhaps another time.”

“Hey!”

After a day long shoot one of your co-workers suggested you all go out for a meal and catch up. It sounded great, but Jeonghan was quick to shoot down the idea and excuse you from it. Next thing you knew he was dragging you over to the van.

“You could come eat with us too, you know.”

“It’s not about the food.”

“Let me guess, you don’t want me drinking around guys?”

“That’s part of it.”

“That scandal is long dead now, and everyone knows these guys are my co-workers! Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

“I’m not gonna take that chance.”

“You may be my boss, but you don’t control every aspect of my life!” You snapped. “Now let go!”

“Keep pushing your luck like this and see what happens.”

“Yeah? What are you gonna do?”

“You really wanna know?”

“If you’re gonna make threats you better follow through.”

“Fine then.”

Jeonghan got you into your van, going over to tell your manager they were done for the day, and then he got behind the wheel. You figured he was gonna take you back to the office, but the route he was taking was unfamiliar. He certainly wasn’t taking you back home, so you got a bit nervous as you realized you had no idea where you were going.

“We’re here.”

“And… where exactly is here?”

“Get out of the van.”

It wasn’t a request, but an order. You were still a bit too nervous to move, but that didn’t stop Jeonghan from opening the door and helping you out. You were in some parking garage, so there was nothing around you to help you identify your location. Jeonghan dragged you over to an elevator, scanning some ID card and merely hitting the button to go up. There was no number displayed, just a ding noise as you passed floors. At least that was your assumption. When the elevator stopped you looked at Jeonghan, but he seemed completely calm, then you knew why.

“Is this… is this your home?”

“Welcome.”

You stepped into the penthouse suite, rather amazed with how luxurious it looked. You always figured Jeonghan lived somewhere nice, but you never thought you’d actually get to see it. The view of the city skyline was gorgeous and you noticed a tray of alcohol and glasses nearby. You wanted to get a drink but Jeonghan stopped you.

“You’re almost always intoxicated when you cause trouble, now I see why. Don’t you think that’s cause to better yourself?”

“After all that work don’t you think I deserve a treat? A little drink won’t kill someone.”

“It might.”

“Then tell me what’s with you lately? Following me around on schedules, keeping me away from my guy friends.” You stated. “You’re acting like a jealous ex, you know that right?”

“I’m trying to prevent another scandal.”

“Seriously? You know half those scandals aren’t my fault! Just cause I’m breathing too close to a male the whole world thinks I’m some kind of whore.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re certainly treating me that way now.”

“I’m merely trying to keep you safe.”

You scoffed. “Is this your idea of a pep talk? Cause it sucks. You may be the CEO of an entertainment company, but you are pretty naive as to how things work.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. I have to play nice with everyone or else we both lose. Business has been good, so you don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re right. Despite everything, business has been good, and your reputation only ever gets dirty for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you.”

“Why would you? If a day comes when I get into real trouble, it’s not that hard for you to cut me loose and leave me to fend for myself.”

“Who says I would do that?”

“Only an idiot would try to defend a troublemaker.”

“I’ve been doing that for a while. Are you calling me an idiot?”

“Those scandals are always baseless rumors that just create some drama, not something major. They were never a real problem to begin with.”

“Perhaps, but nothing is going to stop me from taking care of what belongs to me.”

“Yeah?”

You swiftly landed a kiss on Jeonghan’s lips, catching him off guard and making him stumble back. You laughed at his actions, pouring yourself the drink you wanted.

“You like me, don’t you? And that’s why you’ve been acting all weird lately.”

“That’s not true.” Jeonghan remarked. “I could report you for sexual harassment.”

“And you’d still be the one to punish me for it, right? Sounds like it works out for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying. I know being around guys can get me in trouble, but I don’t just sleep around.”

Jeonghan laughed. “You’re forgetting who owns you here.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Not quite. More of a reminder. I’ve saved you countless times, yet I can just as easily destroy you.”

“What?”

“I’m your salvation, and your destruction. I’ve allowed you to do as you please while at my mercy, but I think it’s time you’re taught a proper lesson.”

There was truth to Jeonghan’s words, you knew that. It was never smart to blindly trust someone, regardless of what they said. Especially in this industry. Still, this was a side of Jeonghan you had never seen. His actions and words were putting you on edge, but you tried to keep it together. That is until he pinned you to the wall, causing you to spill your drink all over the floor and shatter the glass.

“Are you crazy!? Let me go!”

“You said I like you… but it’s much more than that.”

Jeonghan pinned both your arms above your head, keeping you in place with one hand while the other caressed your cheek. You flinched initially, not expecting his touch, but he wasn’t happy with your actions. He tsked at you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to keep his gaze.

“Every scandal you have gotten yourself into has been extremely annoying. People talking about you and someone else, as if any of those boys were worthy of you. Jealousy?” Jeonghan laughed. “That doesn’t begin to cover my feelings. You belong to me, and I think I’ve had enough of watching you being so close with other boys who don’t know anything about you.”

“Jeonghan…”

“Sh, behave yourself. I’ve always wanted to ruin you in the comfort and privacy of my own home, but if you’re gonna be trouble then I can ruin you publicly as well.”

“… you… you wouldn’t do that to me…”

“You’re underestimating what I’m capable of. So, are you gonna be a good girl?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Jeonghan was so close to you that his hot breath brushed against your lips. You were scared, yet excited at the same time. Maybe this wasn’t new, and this was just how Jeonghan was. It would certainly explain why you got special treatment. This could all be some kind of test, see if you’d submit under all this pressure. Or it could be an opportunity of a lifetime and you didn’t want to waste it. In the blink of an eye you leaned in close to kiss Jeonghan. Unlike last time he didn’t move away, instead releasing your arms and taking your head in his hands. The kiss was deep and desperate, Jeongghan only pulling away to catch his breath.

“That’s a good girl.”

Jeonghan took your hand and led you elsewhere. Soon enough you were in the bedroom, pushed onto the bed as Jeonghan began to strip you of your clothes. You tried to do the same but he quickly flipped you onto your stomach and tied your hands behind your back with your shirt. He pressed a few kisses along your back before flipping you back over. He got you out of your pants, taking your panties with you, then unhooking the clasp at the front of your bra. In a matter of moments you laid exposed before him meanwhile he was only shirtless. His hands trailed along your chest, and all you could do was squirm under his touch.

“There’s a reason I’ve never let you do any sort of nudity. Only I get to see this. Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, right?”

Jeonghan asked the redundant question just as he leaned down closer to you, his fingers running along your folds. You quickly bit your lip to quiet the moan that threatened to escape you, not wanting to sound so needy. He didn’t seem to like that, giving you a gentle tap on your cheek to get you to stop.

“No need to be shy.”

Jeonghan was cunning in his actions, punctuating his words as he pushed a finger inside you. This wasn’t enough prep time at all, but he seemed rather eager to get to the good part, and you felt the same. His free hand kneaded your breast and his fingers teasing your nipples. He wanted to provide all kinds of stimulation and get you in the mood. He seemed rather experienced, so you just needed to lay there and take it. Although you couldn’t just stay still, squirming until you managed to free your hands and reach over to feel Jeonghan’s chest, wanting to run your tongue along his abs. You thought he might have been upset that you got free, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Although after a moment he guided your hands down, letting you unzip his pants and spring out his cock. He was bigger than you had imagined, but it was a welcomed surprise. As you ran your fingers along his length, Jeonghan slid another finger inside your heat. A soft mewl escaped you, but you didn’t need to be shy. He worked you over as you stroked him to an erection, feeling him throb and twitch in your hand. You went slow, wanting to tease him just as he did you, and also not wanting him to climax until you felt him inside you. At some point he added a third finger, really stretching you out, but you weren’t sure it would be enough. You were both growing impatient and he decided to make the next move. You couldn’t help the whimper when he moved away and pulled out his fingers, but you didn’t have to be disappointed for long.

You felt something warm and slimy rubbing against your lips, glancing down to see Jeonghan coating your core with his precum. Then he pushed his way inside you, going slow and making you feel every inch. Your mouth hung open as Jeonghan moved all the way in, getting to the base and letting you adjust. He felt nice and big, rather glad things got to this. Then there was a kiss on your head and he started moving. He wanted to be gentle, but finally having you like this, he couldn’t show restraint. He was moving fast and hard, wanting to ruin you just as he said. Make you lose your mind and forget how to speak. All you did was hold on tightly, moaning and begging for more.

“Jeonghan…”

“That’s right, who owns you?”

“… you do… you, Jeonghan…”

“Good girl. My good girl.”

Jeonghan pressed his lips against yours as he continued to thrust into you, rubbing against your sweet spot and doing all the right things. You felt your body heating up, getting closer and closer to the edge. Jeonghan was there too as he had lost his rhythm, just moving desperately to achieve climax. You were both on the same wavelength, and you found yourself reaching your high first, moaning into the kiss and grabbing Jeonghan as you shook beneath him. As your body held him tightly he was pushed over the edge, the warmth between your legs making you realize he wasn’t using protection. You’d take care of that later, just breathing heavily as you came down from cloud nine. Jeonghan was in the same situation as you, resting atop of you and gently moving his hips to get and give as much pleasure as he could.

“What a good girl.”

“Jeonghan…”

“Sh, sh, sh, just relax. We don’t have to be anywhere.”

The two of you stayed together for a while longer, merely relaxing in each other’s embrace. Eventually Jeonghan got up, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he did so. You weren’t sure where he went until he came back and helped you up, taking you to the bathroom. He had prepared a bath, and the two of you would be sharing it. Jeonghan had you between his legs, letting your rest against his chest. You intertwined your fingers with his, starting at your hands holding one another.

“What does this make us?”

“No idea, but you’re still mine.”

“Am I?”

“Did you not learn your lesson just now?”

“Hm… I did learn something.”

“Then you should do better and not mess around with other guys from now on.”

“I’ll try, but I might need a reminder every now and then.”

“I have no problem teaching you who you serve.”

“Is that a promise?”

“No, it’s a vow.”

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