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firingstars · 14 days ago

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neighborly advice | ch. 8

bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you and bucky finally go on your date.

warnings: mdni, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight(?) dom play, teasing, mentions of toys, unprotected sex, cockwarming, timeline is somewhere around the middle/end of fatws, language, alcohol, no use of y/n

word count: 8.0k

a/n: it’s. TIME. next chapter might take a lot longer than usual or you guys might get smth entirely different before the next chapter idk every time i write chapter 9 i delete it and restart bc i don’t like what i did previously so let’s see what happens… i’m just as surprised as u guys are when a chapter comes out

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You finished getting ready as fast as you could in his bathroom. You cursed Leah one more time when you took a proper look at the cut on your face, then made a mental note to apologize to Bucky as you went through his medicine cabinet to find some bandaids. Thankfully, you found one, and plastered it on your face. You frowned at your reflection, but it was better than getting an infection on your face and spending your first date with Bucky in an emergency room.

You changed out of your clothes, and into the random outfit you brought. Thankfully, it at least made sense. Bucky didn’t look too dressed up. He was wearing jeans with a nice shirt and a black coat. You grabbed some black cargo pants, and a fitted, boatneck long sleeve. Simple, but nice enough. Comfortable, too.

When you exited the bathroom and went into the living room, you found him waiting for you with another bouquet of flowers in hand. A dozen, dark red roses, and a nervous look on his face.

”Are you apologizing to me again, Bucky? For entering my house without permission, maybe?” You grinned at him.

“I can, if you want,” he said with a deep breath, then looked down at the roses briefly before meeting your eyes. “But, no. I got these for you. For our date. You do like flowers, right? I didn’t see the other flowers…”

”They’re actually on the floor. Leah pushed me and the vase fell,” you explained, and you watched as a brief flash of disgust crossed his face. You didn’t want to see that anymore. So, you crossed the space and closed the distance to stand right in front of him. You pushed the roses to the side briefly to step onto your toes.

Your lips pressed to the side of his face, just a ghost of a kiss against his cheek.

”I love flowers, Bucky. Thank you. I’ll put them in a safe spot so these one’s don’t take a tumble,” you whispered, then moved a couple steps back. He released a breath, eyes watching your every move as you took the roses from him. You smiled at the flowers, then at him.

”I’ll buy you flowers every day, doll.”

You laughed. He sounded so serious. Like this was his newfound mission, that this was the hill that he was going to die on, and to hell with everyone that got in his way. You shook your head, and moved to rest the roses on the coffee table.

”Sure, soldier. Right now though, I’d love it if you told me where we were going.”

Bucky blinked, snapped out of whatever thoughts were rushing through his head at that moment. He nodded, and gestured towards the door. “Right. Our date.”

”Unless you want to show me a personalized tour of your bedroom,” you tried, watching him freeze mid-step. “Been there before, but didn’t get a chance to see where everything is.”

He cleared his throat one more time, then looked over his shoulder at you. Bucky seemed to finally compose himself, giving you a small, half smirk. “Patience, doll. That’s for the end of the night.”

A tingle of excitement shot through your entire body as your pulse quickened. You bit back your grin as he led you out the door.

Bucky opened your car door for you. He walked in front of you, making sure he reached the car first just so he could do that. Something that was so cute, you thought. You watched as he fumbled with connecting his phone to the car’s bluetooth for a second, muttering incoherent words to himself in frustration before you decided to gently take the phone from his hands and do it yourself.

”Thanks, doll,” he whispered to you.

”Of course, Sarge.” You saw a smile on his lips as he got music playing in a low volume before he pulled out of the parking garage.

With one hand on the wheel, and the other on the gear shift, he looked extremely attractive. Bucky looked relaxed right at that moment. The sun was setting in the horizon as the world was beginning to go to sleep, and illuminating his face perfectly as you watched him. He was picturesque. You wanted to take a picture, but fought against the urge. Instead, you painted the memory into your brain. You would remember this moment for the rest of your life.

When you were finished, you looked at the car— took a good look at it. The seats were leather, polished and nicely well made. It didn’t look like Bucky used the car often. Inside the car, you couldn’t hear the engine as he drove. Was it electric? You didn’t think it was, not with this make and model. Unless he had it modified. Briefly, you wondered how much money Avengers made. He owned both a car and a motorcycle— both of them very nice models.

“This car was a gift,” he told you, as if he was reading your mind. “From a friend.”

“From Steve?” you guessed with a hum

“How did you know?”

“You don’t call Sam your friend, and he’s the only other one you talk about,” you said with a grin. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Sam’s not my friend,” he said with a huff. “Steve’s different.”

“Steve Rogers,” you said, the name holding weight as you said them aloud. “An impressive man. He must be honored to have you as your best friend.”

Bucky snorted, “I think you meant to say it the other day around.”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “I’m sure Steve would be proud to know his best friend saved a poor damsel in distress in the middle of the night then has the pleasure of taking her out on a date. Seriously, Sarge. You must be have an entire harem at this point. You know— since you’re just scooping them up in your arms and holding them like that.”

“Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a man who’s over a century old with a trail of bodies. I think there would have to be something mentally wrong with you. And you’re the only one that I held like that,” he confessed. It made you bite back a smile briefly.

“Good for you, then. My doctor’s been telling me for years that I should be in therapy, but I just don’t listen to her. My mental issues will persist for a long time, so looks like I’ll stick around.”

Bucky barked out a laugh, and shook his head. “Therapy fucking sucks.”

“I agree. I tried it once, and my therapist just passive aggressively wrote down everything I said on a notepad.”

“Shit, mine does that, too. Do they go through all that school just to learn how to do that?” Bucky said, groaning. He dragged a hand over his face.

“No clue,” you said with a giggle. “I do know there’s schools for the elderly to learn how to use technology though. In case you wanna learn how to use your car. I’m sure there’s features on the motorcycle you haven’t touched yet.”

“Ha ha,” he laughed dryly at you, making your grin spread wider.

“Seriously though, why don’t you use the car more? It’s nice.”

“Both this car and the motorcycle… both of them were Steve’s. He gave them to me before they left. I guess I try to leave the car alone to perserve his memory as much as possible,” he said. The honest answer threw you off for a moment, making you pause. He looked a little sad. “This car doesn’t even smell like him anymore. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s left.”

”Since he went off to the moon?” you asked, hoping to cheer him up a bit. It worked. Your heart soared as you watched his face twist with amusement.

”You believe that conspiracy?”

”No,” you hummed.

“What do you think he’s doing?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

”I think… He’s resting somewhere,” you said slowly, looking out the window. “I don’t blame him. Fought for so long, so hard. He deserves peace in his life, too. So, if peace is on the moon, then I hope the view is nice from up there.”

You looked back at Bucky, seeing a small, nostalgic smile on his face. He nodded at your words. He looked like he was at peace, right at this moment.

”What about me, doll? You think I’m worthy of any kind of peace?” he asked. You could tell he was trying to joke. Trying to tease and be funny— but it made you frown.

“I think you, of all people, deserve peace. You fought just as hard, if not harder,” you told him, never moving your gaze off his face. You watched Bucky as he swallowed, letting the words wash over him as the music began to fade in the background between the two of you. Then, the car was parked.

You didn’t even realize you had gotten to the restaurant already.

You moved to look out the window, to see where he had taken you to eat, but found yourself unable to move too far away. Bucky had reached for you, hand tangling in your hair as he gently pulled you closer to him. He met you halfway across the center console, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

It was different from the first kiss he had given you in his apartment. This one was slow. Sweet. He was treating you as if you were fragile in his hands, as if you were about to slip through his fingertips and break if he found himself too rough with you. Once again, you were wrapped around the scent of Bucky. Right in this moment, only he existed, right against you.

He pulled away first, but came back a second later to press a quick, softer peck to your lips.

”I hope you like steak, pretty girl,” he whispered to you.

”Love it,” you grinned.

”Stay put. Don’t open your door,” he ordered you, then quickly jumped out of the car. You watched as he practically ran around the vehicle to get to your side, quickly opening the door for you to let you leave. The sight made you giggle. It was silly, but chivalrous all at the same time. He grinned at the sound of your laugh.

Dinner was nice. He ordered a different cut of steak than you, along with different sides and a different drink, and the two of you ended up picking off each other’s plate. You shared the food equally amongst each other. The restaurant was quiet, for the most part, the two of you sharing quiet conversations about nothing in particular as you ate.

Just this moment alone was better than any dates you had ever been on. In a single night, Bucky had raised all of your standards. The date had barely just started, according to him. Either way, either he was doing everything right or you needed to respect yourself a bit more because just the fact he pulled and pushed in every seat for you was enough to make your heart flutter.

Then again, Bucky didn’t need to do much to make your heart quicken.

Just watching him across the table was enough. When he met your eyes and held your gaze with that unwavering, confident stare, you felt you were safe here. You didn’t want to stray far from him, or ever let him leave your side again. Then, a more dangerous side of you let your eyes wander.

His simple movements like cutting steak made the muscles of his flesh arm ripple a bit, and you could see that through the layer of his jacket. When he sat straight and shifted a little, you could see each line and definition of his chest muscles and where they started and ended.

You were going slightly crazy, if you were being honest.

You hoped Bucky didn’t notice.

When the check came, the waiter told you both to take your time. You gave him a grateful smile as Bucky opened up the leather book, and you looked over his shoulder to take a look at the numbers in front of you. The damage wasn’t too bad.

“Since I stole half your food, let’s split the bill?” you asked, reaching for your purse. Bucky froze in place.

He had already taken his wallet out, card ready to be removed from its pocket. Bucky’s eyes slowly drifted towards your face, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.

“Split the bill?” he echoed.

“Yes. Or I can pay for my food, since mine was more expensive than yours,” you offered, taking another once over at the receipt.

“Doll,” he said slowly, placing his wallet on the table to free his hands. Bucky looked at you with concern written all over his face. “Why would you pay?”

“I just said so?” you answered, confused as you pulled your wallet out as well.

“I asked you on this date. There’s no reason for you to pay when you’re with me. Ever. It wouldn’t be a date if you paid, doll,” Bucky explained. There was a pleading look in his eyes, as if he was begging you to understand where you were coming from.

“You’ve spent a lot of money on me already, Buck,” you said, eyebrows knitting together with worry. Two bouquets of flowers on top of this meal, and the date wasn’t over yet. Not only did he spend money on you, he was spending a lot of time on you. Planning all of this wasn’t just something that came to him as a passing thought. Bucky was meticulous, and you knew that.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re worth,” he dismissed, shaking his head. “Don’t ever bring your wallet out if you’re with me. I’ll throw it across the room if I see it. Now put that thing away before I do just that.”

With his half hearted threat taken seriously, he finally took his card out and placed it in the checkbook, giving it to the waiter as he passed by. He let out a small huff, crossing his arms.

“You’ve paid on dates before?” Bucky asked with a deep frown.

“I don’t go on dates often, but there have been dates where I have paid for my share. Or usually I pay for dessert,” you said with a shrug.

“Dessert,” he scoffed. “Fucking unbelievable. You will not pay a single thing when you’re with me.”

You smiled. Was he really this enraged over something like this? It was cute. You couldn’t help but want to tease him a little bit. “What if I ask you on a date? Can I pay then?”

“You can plan it,” he answered immediately. “If it requires booking something or paying in advance, take my wallet and use my card. Drill it in your head. You’re not paying.”

You could only let out a small laugh, but he wasn’t laughing with you. This was a hill he was going to die on, and no one would be able to move him or shake him from this decision.

Once the checkbook came back, he pulled your chair out, and led you out to the car. You could still hear him muttering about the disgrace of you even asking about paying. Something about his mother rolling in her grave if she ever heard that he let his girl ever pay for him. It made you giggle again.

When you were back in the car to your next destination, you began to hum along to the music. Both of you were in a comfortable silence, Bucky’s hand now intertwined with your own. It was something so small, simple— but it filled your chest with joy. Feeling the weight of his fingers interlaced with yours just felt… right.

“You know this song?” Bucky asked, surprise in his voice as you continued to hum.

“My grandpa used to play it all the time,” you told him, and you couldn’t resist the chance to tease him. “You know, since grandpas love this kinda music.”

Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “I’m sure he and I have lots in common.”

“You would. He adored me, after all.”

“I think my version of adoring you is a little different, doll,” he said, steadying his eyes off the road briefly to give you a glance.

“I sure would hope so, or this is gonna get real weird, real fast,” you told him with a cheeky grin. You watched as he rolled his eyes and gave you a fake huff, but he couldn’t hide the way his eyes had a particular shine to it. “He would like you.”

“You think so?”

“I think he would think you’re a little slow with the times, but yeah, he would like you. My grandpa knew how to use bluetooth.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the exasperation in his voice. “I ride the motorcycle more than I do this car. We would be on the motorcycle if it weren’t for what I had planned.”

“And what would that be?”

“Keep an eye out, and you’ll see,” Bucky told you. “It’s coming up.”

Soon enough, you saw the signs. A drive in movie. You let out a soft gasp of surprise, your hand tightening around his hand.

“I’ve never been to one of these before,” you confessed.

“No? Glad I can take you to your first,” he hummed.

The darkness of the night completely concealed the trunk setup he had waiting for you. His backseats were flattened down, and he had soft blankets laid out with pillows for the two of you to rest on while you watched the movie. Moreover, the roof of the car went invisible— see through, only for you guys. No one would be able to see in.

“Stark tech,” Bucky explained with a shrug when he saw your wide eyes.

“You know how to activate Stark technology, but not connect your phone to CarPlay?” you demanded, still in shock. Bucky shot you a half hearted glare before he continued his explanation on the car.

“Was a gift from Tony to Steve for one of Steve’s birthdays, I think. I have a bunch of other hand-me-down gadgets if you wanna tear apart Stark’s shit and rip him off for your own company.”

He was joking, you could tell, but you smacked his arm anyways. Bucky let out a laugh as you scolded him, “His wife will sue the shit out of me!”

“Only if she finds out, doll. I can make sure no one ever does,” he hummed, and pressed a kiss to your temple. You were more than certain he had all the means to do so. “Come on, let’s get comfortable. I got snacks for you, whole bunch of sugary stuff. Not sure what you liked.”

You guys managed to get your pillows propped up against the back of the car, half laying down as you waited for the movie to start. You went through the bags of snacks, Bucky watching you.

He must’ve bought the whole store.

There were different assortments of chocolates, caramels, pretzels, cookies, chip bags, red vines, and other things you hadn’t even considered buying before. He even got bottles of water, but also sodas and brought some cans of beers. You could only grin, thinking about how he must’ve looked while grabbing all of these things.

You settled for the cookies for now, and opened them with a smile.

“You’re driving. Can you even drink beer right now?” you asked with a raised eyebrow as you watched him crack open the can.

“Serum that makes me what I am makes my metabolism insanely fast,” he answered, and you paused.

“You can’t get drunk,” you said, and he hummed in response.

“Nope. Just like the taste. You, on the other hand, I’ve watched get drunk more than once. Probably not a good idea.”

“Why? Don’t like it when I get drunk, Sarge?” you asked as you took his can from his hands to take a drink as well.

“That’s not it,” he said, watching as you brought the can to your lips. “I just want you to be able to remember everything that I do to you when we get home.”

You locked eyes with him, the words weighing heavy in your mind as you lowered the can. You watched as a smile spread onto his face when you handed him back the beer.

“Shut up.”

“Every time you tell me to shut up, you kiss me. Where’s my kiss, doll?” he asked, tilting his head in question. He was the one daring you this time to make a move. Your eyes went to his lips, and your heart was pounding.

No.

“That’s too bad.” You pouted at him. “You haven’t done anything to deserve a kiss from me.”

If Bucky’s eyebrows could raise to his hairline, they would have at that moment. “That’s harsh, doll.”

“You could always just take what you want from me. I won’t complain if it’s you,” you told him, leaning a bit closer to him.

His eyes lowered. Not just to your mouth, but trailed all the way down your body. Taking all of you in. You watched as he swiped a tongue over his lips as he took in a deep breath. Then, he draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

“Movie’s about to start. Pay attention,” he said your name, his voice sounding a bit thick. “I’ll quiz you on it later.”

You laughed against him, but settled into his body. He was warm. Bucky shuffled a bit, grabbing the extra blanket to spread over your legs and his, tucking the two of you in before grabbing the cookies you chose as your preferred movie snack and placing them on top.

Briefly, you wondered if he was going to get handsy with you during the movie. You really wouldn’t have minded it, but as the movie roared to life, you decided that you definitely did not want him to.

He was just as into the film as you were. The two of you were there together, entranced in every single detail. You could feel his body tense against yours during climax’s, relax during the resolutions, and even felt a small jolt of his body when the main character prevailed. You enjoyed the rumble of his chest when he laughed at witty moments in the movie, and the sound of his heart in your ear as he was clearly reacting in real time.

“Rookie mistake,” he even muttered at one point when one of the characters got shot.

You laughed at the commentary harder than you should have, and missed the way he smiled.

“I’m just saying,” he continued, “if that were me? Would not have gotten beat up like that. Seriously. He has so many weapons and didn’t use a single one of them properly. I think this is my only issue so far.”

“Okay, soldier,” you snorted. “Keep watching.”

The conversation continued on the way home, and up the stairs of the apartment. Bucky talked about the inconsistencies of the battle and actions while you were picking apart the logistics of the science behind the project they were trying defend, literally with their lives.

Otherwise, the movie was quite enjoyable. You helped Bucky fold and put away his extra blankets and pillows, and even find space for his new snacks.

“You sure you don’t want any of this?” he asked. “I normally don’t eat this kinda stuff. Ever.”

“Just save it for me then. For when I come back next time,” you hummed.

“Next time, huh?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow with you.

“You don’t want me to come back?” you asked, feigning shock and hurt. “I thought this date was going so well. Shit, I misread the signs. I’ll get out of your hair. I’m really sorry.”

You quickly turned away, ready to rush out of his apartment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest before you could take two steps away from him. His metal hand was splayed across your abdomen, pinky and ring finger slipping under your shirt and making goosebumps rise into your skin. His flesh arm was wrapped right around your middle, holding you firm, but gentle. Your breath caught in your throat as you craned your next to look back at him, hands falling onto his.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Date’s not over, pretty girl.”

“Mm… It’s not? What else is left, Sarge?”

“If you’re not too tired,” he said, his voice dropping into a whisper that sent shivers down your spine, “we can start that tour of my room.”

You smiled, turning in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands naturally fell to your hips.

“Did you get some new decorations since the last time I’ve been here?” you asked, glancing at his lips before looking back up at his eyes.

“Well, I did just move in. Maybe you can give me some pointers, show me how to fill up the space,” Bucky murmured, holding you closer to him.

“Why don’t you show me around then?” you asked, a hand absentmindedly playing with the back of his hair. A breath caught in his throat briefly before he finally moved.

One of Bucky’s hands went to your chin, tugging your mouth open for him as he pressed his mouth to yours. You hummed in delight as his tongue swiped against your own, pushing your body further into his. You didn’t want any space between you both.

Bucky navigated the two of you away from the kitchen and towards the hall— and you were bumping into things. Well, he was bumping into things. Anything that you would’ve hit with a hip or an arm, Bucky had shot out his own hand to take the blow himself. Bucky didn’t allow for you to get hurt at all.

“This is,” you gasped between kisses, “the worst fucking tour.”

Not that you were actually complaining.

Bucky let out a breathy laugh, pressing your body against the wall in the hallway. He leaned down, hands hooking behind your thighs as he lifted you to wrap you legs around his waist. He started his assault on your neck, sucking on that same spot he bit down before.

“We haven’t even gotten to my room yet, doll,” he whispered, grinning against your neck, a whimper escaping your lips. You couldn’t let him take all the power.

Your hands moved from his shoulders to behind his neck, and you tugged on his hair again. You remembered how he moaned before, and wanted to hear it again. A smile broke out on your face when he did.

“Not even at your room yet, and you’re already so hard for me, Sergeant,” you teased, locking your eyes with his. To prove your point even further, you slowly rolled your hips against his, reveling in the way his eyes closed just slightly, and a groan escaped his throat. “Will you even make it to the bed?”

“You’ll regret those words,” he grunted, pulling you off the wall.

Bucky’s lips met yours again in a feverish mix of tongue, heat, passion, saliva, and moans as he walked down the hall to his bedroom. Along the way, he had parted from you briefly to rip your shirt off of your body, discarding it somewhere behind him. Then, he laid you on his satin sheets, hovering above you as your legs were still docked at his hips.

“Look at you,” he whispered, a shiver passing through your body as his metal hand started its journey from the hollow of your throat, down to your sternum, and finished at your navel. “So pretty.”

“I’m not even fully naked yet, Bucky,” you whispered back, feeling shy under his gaze.

“So?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing at you as he met your eyes once more. “Doesn’t change the fact you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And I’ve been alive for a real long time, doll.”

Before you could give him another smart comment, he descended on you. Lips met yours once more as his hands started to work on the button and zipper of your pants.

Your skin was on fire as he broke the kiss to trail his lips down the side of your neck and to your collarbone as he pushed your pants off of your legs. You lifted your hips to help him, gaining a hum of appreciation and a small nip against the swell of your breasts.

He paused at the lacy ensemble you had on, eyes trailing over your body in a different way now. Hungry. Bucky looked almost insatiable.

“All for me, doll?” he chuckled lowly, hooking a finger on a bra strap to slide it down your arm. An involuntary shiver rushed through your body. “Almost like you planned for me to take you tonight.”

“You can’t ever be too sure,” you whispered back, watching him as he exposed one of your breasts. Bucky licked his lips slowly before glancing at you, locking eyes with you.

“So pretty,” he told you once more before latching on. His warm tongue flicked at your hardening nipple, electricity rushing through your body with each swipe and suck of his mouth. You weaved your hands through his short hair, tugging lightly. Not to pull him away, just to let him know that you liked it. He hummed against you— you quickly realized he enjoyed having his hair pulled.

The thought made your insides twitch.

“Bucky,” you whined, rolling your hips slightly, trying to get some sort of friction.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered against your chest. While his flesh hand took to work freeing your other breast, beginning to roll your nipple between his fingers and massage your breast, his metal hand had trailed southward.

The cool touch of him left goosebumps where he previously was. Then, his hand dipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. You felt him smile against your skin when you gasped.

“This okay, doll?” he murmured, moving to kiss your neck again. You nodded, almost frantically. You needed him to touch you where it mattered. Where it damn near hurt. He chuckled lowly near your ear, then moved to capture your lips as his fingers finally touched you.

Your mouth fell open in a soundless moan. His fingers spread you open, taking account of how slick you were for him, before returning to your clit to rub slow, torturous circles into the bundle of nerves.

“Bucky,” you moaned. “More.”

“Mm,” he hummed in response, “No.”

“No?” you cried, your hips moving to meet his hands. His other hand immediately moved to pin you to the bed, not allowing you to chase the delicious friction.

“The serum that makes me what I am enhanced a lot of things,” he suddenly said, making you blink in confusion. You were trying real hard to understand why the hell he was talking about this now of all times, when his fingers were still covered in your juices and you just wanted him inside you. “Like I told you before, I can’t get drunk—“

“Barnes, are you going to fuck me or give me a lecture on the super soldier serum?” you cut him off, then gasped as his fingers pressed on your clit hard.

“I’m getting there, doll. Patience,” he told you, clicking his tongue in fake annoyance. “Cut me off again, and I’ll stop touching you.”

Oh, you couldn’t have that. So, you nodded weakly as he continued his slow work on you. You were trying to control your breathing, trying to focus on the sensation between your legs and the slight pleasure he was granting you.

“I can’t get drunk,” Bucky repeated with a soft hum. “Other things that happened to me include my senses being heightened. I see things in sharper definition. Makes for a great sniper, if you really think about it.”

Suddenly, you felt extremely exposed. You were keenly aware of how his eyes were slowly going every centimeter of your body, taking in every single part of you. He was seeing pieces of your body that you hadn’t even really stopped to look at, and he was loving what he was seeing.

“You’re a smart girl,” he said, voice dropping barely above a whisper. “Tell me another sense that could have been heightened.”

His fingers stopped its lazy rub on your clit, slowly moving to the aching throb that where you needed him the most. Bucky spread your folds, and you could hear the slight squelch of wetness as he parted it. He hummed in delight, fingers just poking and prodding at the entrance, but never pushing past.

You swallowed, “S… sound?” you stuttered. “Your hearing?”

“Good girl,” he praised, shoving a finger into your core. You gasped, hands grabbing at his forearms as he started a slow pace. “These walls are really thin, doll.”

“W.. what?” you whimpered, the hand on your hip pressing harder to keep you in place. You were squirming now.

“Especially thin for me, who has great hearing,” he continued, a smirk forming on his lips as he shifted on the bed to tower over you. “And your room is right on the other side of my wall. How do you think I felt listening to you say my name every night for the last few days?”

Your eyes widened in shock, but you didn’t have time to process. Not when he pulled his hands away from you, only to grab your thighs and drag your body to the edge of his bed. You barely had the chance to push yourself onto your elbows to see what he was doing before the sound of fabric ripping filled the air, and the warmth of his mouth was on you.

You collapsed onto the mattress, back arching as his tongue flattened against your clit. His metal hand went to your chest, massaging your breast as two other fingers started thrusting into you.

It was too much and not enough all at the same time. Your hips jerked against his face, the stubble brushing deliciously against your thigh. Bucky moaned into you, the vibrations making you clench around his fingers.

“Bucky!” you moaned, hands finding purchase in his hair again. He pulled away from you briefly, and you looked down at him to see him smiling.

“Just like that, pretty girl,” he whispered, his hot breath against you making you shiver slightly. “That’s how you would say my name in your room.”

A wave of embarrassment crashed over you, then was quickly overpowered by pure pleasure and desire as he put his mouth back on you. His tongue flicked at your clit, his fingers quickened their pace, and angled slightly before finding that one spot and fuck, you were so close.

“Bucky, please,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair to pull him closer to you. He hummed in understanding, and added a third finger, stretching you even further. Just the feel alone was enough to teeter you over the edge—

He was gone.

Bucky was standing now, leaving you hanging and breathless and confused and anxious as he swiped at his lips.

“Why— why?” you asked weakly, feeling tears of frustration begin to brim over your eyes.

He held your gaze as he brought his finger to his mouth, licking off every single drop of you that had come with his sudden departure. You could only watch with baited breath as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing cuts of muscle and strength that made your breath catch in your throat. Your eyes slowly dragged from his chest down to his abs, then watched as he slowly undid his belt before making work of his own pants.

“You’ll cum on my cock first, doll,” he told you, shedding the last of his clothes. He was left with nothing but the dog tags around his neck— something that you didn’t even know he had until now. He must’ve kept them hidden under his shirt at all times. “Then I promise, you won’t ever have to beg to cum again.”

Fuck.

Bucky reached for you, situating you comfortably on his pillows. Somewhere along the way, he finally unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere behind him, no longer allowing anything to come between the two of you as he pressed your bodies together.

His lips met yours, and you could taste the saltiness of your own arousal as his tongue swiped at yours. He held your hips down again, but he was slowly grinding his own hips against you. The thick length of him was rubbing against you, covering himself in your slick.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered, parting from your lips briefly to kiss at your neck. “That you want this.”

“I need you,” you immediately replied. “Please, Bucky, I need you— I fucking need—“

The head of his cock aligned with your entrance, shutting you up. Both of you let out a soft groan as he finally pushed in and slowly slid home. He dropped his head into your neck, and you could hear his breath stutter as he continued the rest of his journey into you.

He was large. The preparation with his fingers barely did much in the grand scheme of things, but the stretch and the length of him was absolutely delicious and addicting. You needed more of him.

“More, Bucky,” you pleaded. “Please, I can’t wait any longer—“

“Baby, I’m doing this for me, not for you,” he cut you off, his voice lowered and thick with want and need, he cursed when you twitched around him. “You don’t understand what you do to me, doll. So fuckin’ hot, so wet— God, doll. Where were you all my life?”

“Just here,” you said meekly, gripping his shoulders tight and digging your nails into the muscle. His hands gripped tighter at your waist in response.

He swallowed, and slowly lifted up. Bucky let out a soft groan when he took in the sight of you, stuffed full of his cock, needy. You wanted him badly, and he finally started moving.

Electric rushed through your veins as his hips started pumping in and out of you. You watched as his jaw ticked, trying to keep himself under control as he fucked into your soaking cunt.

“Fuck,” he groaned deeply. “You’re so wet. Look at you— gonna fuck you better than whatever fucking machine you were using the last few nights.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You grinned at him, “I— I’ll probably still use it tonight, when I go home though?”

Bucky’s eyes widened briefly before his hips snapped harder into yours. You gasped, finding stability on his forearms briefly before he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them over your head. You couldn’t even talk anymore, you could only focus on him.

He wasn’t even going fast. Bucky was going hard. He was making sure that his cock was hitting you deeply, his hips grinding into you. It was driving you insane. He would pull out all the way until only the tip of him was left, then plunge back in all in one go.

“Don’t have anything smart to say now?” he teased, moving to suck on your neck again. You could only moan in response, and shake your head. “If I ever hear you use that shit again, I’ll break down the wall and come take care of you myself.”

“Please?” you begged weakly, making him chuckle into your ear.

Then, his thumb. The hand that wasn’t holding yours splayed across your stomach, thumb beginning to rub tight, fast circles into your clit. The stark comparison to his slow and deep thrusts was jarring. His hand on your stomach didn’t allow you to buck your hips against his.

“Bucky!” you cried out.

“I got you,” he whispered. “Cum whenever you want, pretty.”

Mixed with both his cock, his fingers, and his pretty words— who were you to deny him? You came undone quickly under him, becoming a babbling mess. You couldn’t help it. He wound you up and denied you earlier— the release felt even more intense than before.

Bucky didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you through it. If anything, his hips sped up as your walls tightened around him, spurred on by your fluttering pussy. His moans in your ear sent shockwaves through you that must’ve altered your brain chemistry because God, he was so pretty. Just the thought and sight alone sent another, mini orgasm through you.

“Mine,” you whispered between moans, making him chuckle.

“All yours, doll,” he confirmed, catching your lips with his again. He finally let go of your hands, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him closer to you as his other arm went under the small of your back to close the rest of the distance.

His hips stuttered, and you could feel his heart in his chest begin to hammer erratically. Bucky was close, too.

“Where?” he asked quickly, his grip on you tightening. “Where can I—“

“Fill me up, Buck. God, please fill me up, I need all of you—“

“You can’t just say that shit, baby,” he groaned, holding you tighter.

“Please?” you begged softly. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and his eyes shut tight.

“Fuck,” he groaned your name, and everything was on fire. You felt incredibly full beyond what you were capable of. Bucky was trembling above you. He still fucked into you, shallow thrusts as your walls sucked in every drop of him greedily, never wanting him to leave, until he was dry.

Bucky collapsed to the side, pulling you to his chest, then moved to his back. He was still inside you, softening.

“Lemme stay in you for a bit,” he grunted. “Feels good.”

“Mm,” you hummed. No complaints there. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on him, his fingers ghosting up and down your spine. The sensation alone was lulling you into a deep rest.

You wanted to fight sleep a bit longer, and stare at his face. You wanted to trace the lines of his face with your fingertips, touch every single part of his body and commit it to memory so you could map every single part of him without ever having to look at him again. He was so breathtaking, and he didn’t even know it.

Bucky laid there with a hand under his head, glancing down at you with soft eyes. His eyebrows raised in question as you stared at him.

“Kiss?” you asked him softly.

He only chuckled in response, then moved his hand away from his head to place his fingers under your chin to tilt your head up as he craned his head down. His plush lips met yours in a sweet kiss, and your eyes fell shut as your world made sense.

Bucky was still tucked away inside you, softening, with his arms around you. His body was warm and pressed against you and sheltering you. This felt like home.

“Sleep now,” he whispered to you once he pulled away, only to return a few seconds later to kiss your forehead. “I’ll take care of you.”

You were more than certain that he would.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound and smell of something happening in the kitchen. You were delightfully sore all over, and found you weren’t naked at all. You were dressed in one of Bucky’s shirts, and he had even put his boxers on you. You found that you weren’t a sticky mess between your legs, either. Once you passed out, he must have cleaned you up.

He was cute. You wanted to see him.

“Damn it. You weren’t supposed to be awake yet,” he groaned when you came outside.

“Should I go back to sleep?” you asked with a smile.

“No. Stay,” he told you, coming over to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer, and pressed a kiss to your lips. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Sore, but it’s nice,” you hummed against his lips.

“Tylenol?” he offered, gesturing to the counter. Bucky had already had the medicine out and ready on a tissue with a glass of water and a box of Plan B.

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I Googled it,” he admitted. “I bought it this morning for you.”

“What a gentleman,” you snorted, but gratefully took both medicines.

When you were done, he also pushed a set of keys closer to you. “This is also yours. While we were out on our date last night, I called in a favor and had a buddy change your locks. So Leah doesn’t have access to your apartment anymore. I don’t think she gave you your keys back when you asked.”

“Oh.” You stared at the keys. “Bucky, you didn’t have to…”

“No, but I also don’t like the idea of the person that hit you being able to access your space,” he said with a shrug before turning back to the stove to turn it off. He plated the rest of the food. Bucky made bacon with eggs and pancakes. “Hungry?”

Your stomach growled in response, making him smile as he brought the plates to the living room. You made yourself comfortable on the couch beside him before he gave you your plate, both of you about to start eating when his phone began to buzz in his pocket. Bucky let out a soft sigh before picking it up.

You couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end. Bucky didn’t really respond, either. There was just a chorus of grunts and okay’s that were passed before he hung up the phone.

“Work?” you asked him softly, trying to ignore the dejection beginning to build in your chest. In reality, he had no obligation to spend the morning with you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking at you with helpless eyes. “I have to go. Sam needs me.”

“Don’t apologize,” you told him, nudging his knee with your own. “Someone’s gotta go keep the world safe, right?”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” he told you, a frown on his face before he handed you his phone. “Your phone number. If something happens and you need me, I’ll come back as soon as possible.”

“Don’t think anything like that will happen, but you could’ve just said you wanted my number, Sarge,” you said with a grin as you took the device.

He let out a huff, rolling his eyes as you programmed his phone with your contact information. Then, he quickly pressed a kiss to your temple before standing. “Gotta get ready, doll. Eat breakfast, stay here as long as you want. Extra key is by the TV, you can keep it with you. Don’t gotta return it this time.”

Bucky was fast. In just a matter of seconds, he was in and out of his bedroom, dressed and ready to leave. He made one final pit stop to you, to properly kiss you on the lips, before heading out the door without looking back.

He was almost like a storm. Here one moment, and gone the next. It was his job, after all. Though you didn’t really know what his job really meant or what he was doing, it still was his work. The thought of him getting hurt and beat up filled you with dread.

You stared at the plate in front of you, frowning. Bucky didn’t even have a chance to eat before he left.

next chapter

taglist: @iyskgd @1967barracuda @falconxsoldier @retrxgreyde @lemonpiegurll

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bunnygirllover45 · 6 months ago

Note

Hii!! I’m kinda obsessing over the Idea of Johann before he kidnapped his darling, going out to buy clothes and him just enjoying it WAY more than Darling. Like bro’s INTO it, picking out dresses and making darling do a fashion show for him?? Just wanted to put this thought out there lol. Idk if he’d actually do that but I can dream,,,, Anyways that’s all— thank you!!!!

Anon you're into some shit rn and I totally agree with you. Johann would do that 100%. TW: Darling had a past relationship that wasn't too nice, mentions of body insecurity, hints of dollification but it's Johann who are we talking about this is obvious by now.

Your past relationship before Johann wasn't the best, you weren't used to him buying you stuff so carelessly or taking you every other day. At first, it was a little hard to get accustomed to the sudden change, but eventually, you started to like it. Except for the part where you and he had to go to the clothing store. Each time Johann stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of a date to point at a cute outfit sitting in the window of a random store, a part of you internally screamed for him not to drag you inside.

Speaking about that— "You like these? These frills might be itchy on your skin though..." —yes, you were trapped inside another store again. Taking in a deep breath you stared at Johann, then at the dress he was holding. No matter how often you told him you either didn't like this style of clothing or that it wouldn't look good in it, he still made you buy and wear the stuff. Of course, he only made you wear it when both of you were alone, there's no way he'd let you look this adorable in front of someone else.

You wondered how many more clothes he could buy you, after all, even if Johann made sure to visit you almost every day, his job kept him from being with you all the time. Most of the time he kept some of the clothes in his house too, he had a 'special place for them', out of context that phrase could be worrying, but Johann was such a sweetheart behind that stoic exterior that you didn't really question it. As he grabbed another piece of clothing you shot your hands to grab his forearm, squeezing softly as you smiled up to him. "J-Johann, I don't think I'd look good on that. I have many dresses back at home too, you shouldn't buy mo—" But before you could even finish you felt Johann leaning down to whisper against your ear, his voice soft and secretive. "I think you'd look good in anything." the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "I've always wanted to take care of someone as precious as you, would you let me do that?" There was serious longing in his voice. From all the past experiences you had with him, you clearly noticed that ache to fulfill a role that Johann always had. Taking care of you during dates, making sure you didn't get sick, and even aftercare with him was a blissful experience. All the things he told you about feeling empty and without a purpose in life, it's like a part of him has been waiting all this time to have this, to have you. You stood stunned, questioning if you should feel even more embarrassed or prideful, he looked at you with an adoration written in his eyes that made you shiver, and you felt a little guilty at how much you enjoyed it. "Here, we can buy these and try them out at home, how does that sound?" You nodded, giving him a compliant smile as you reached to hug his arm. "Okay... thank you." One hand snaked its way around your waist, squeezing slightly as he kissed you on the top of the head, nuzzling against it. "You're welcome, baby."

#johann the bastard #male yandere #yandere #yandere oc #chrona... answers things?

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starsofang · 9 months ago

Text

CALL OF THE SEA / PART TEN

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief mentions of death/blood, gaz being a little shit, foreshadowing idk but we gettin into it masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“You need new clothes.”

You glanced down at the loose fabrics swallowing your body.

You’d grown a routine of wearing various pieces of the men’s clothing apart from Ghost, given that your own clothes weren’t much to wear at all. They were old and dirtied, practically useless against the changing seasons of the chill that began to shift in the wind.

“We’ve got to stop on the Mainland, gather a few things for travels,” Gaz continued, eyeing the lousy clothes. “Would you like to shop for somethin’ new?”

“Really?” you asked bashfully.

It would be nice to have something of your own, something that was yours. While you weren’t doused in riches and gold back in your village, you had clothing that was to your own comfort and liking.

Men’s clothing was itchier than you liked, even with finer cotton.

“‘Course,” he assured with a warm smile. “Not that it’s not a bit humorous seein’ you wear our clothes for the time bein’, but I’m gettin’ sick of washin’ double the clothes.”

You smiled back at him, feeling a comforting warm burn through you. Gaz may have had his reservations in the beginning, but he was certainly becoming the most welcoming.

At the start, you thought he was cold, just as the rest of them. He was crude with the way he spoke, voice full of venom whenever he’d spoken to you, which was rare. Now, there was an underlying comfort, as if he felt the need to watch over you.

It wasn’t unwelcome, and was rather preferred. If you were going to be willed into this life of deadly chaos by no choice but Price’s own, then having somebody watching your back was certainly something you wouldn’t refuse.

“Clothes would be nice,” you sighed. “Thank you, Gaz.”

“No need,” he dismissed with a hand. “Consider it a loan. I get you new clothes, you owe me next time.”

“Next time?” You deflated, shoulders dropping. “I have no money to return to you, Gaz. Nor anything of consistency.”

Gaz laughed lightly, a hearty laugh that you always found contagious. It was full of life, lovely even.

The brief memory of him mentioning being a prince in his previous years always seemed to make its way back into your mind when you heard it. It wasn’t loud or boisterous like Soap’s, nor quiet and gruff like Price’s. There was a something more proper, more articulated when he laughed.

“You expect clothes for free, dove?” he teased. “I may be a gentleman in practice, but I’m still a pirate. Perhaps we can come up with a negotiation.”

“I have never been good with those,” you confessed with a heavy sigh.

“Mm. Let me think, then.” Gaz’s finger tapped mindlessly at his bottom lip, eyes narrowed in false concentration. As if a light bulb popped in his head, he snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “I will gift you coins for clothes as well as a few for our agreement. Once we’re on the Mainland, you go off and find me somethin’ I’ll like. If I don’t like it, then you must owe me for the clothes.”

You gawked at him, eyebrows furrowing. Gaz only smiled at you cheekily, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“That sounds less like a negotiation and more of a game that I am bound to lose,” you said flatly. He snickered.

“C’mon, birdie. Don’t you like games? Everyone does.” He leaned in close as if to mock you, hunching down to your level. You could feel his warm breath fan over your nose and cheeks.

The sudden proximity made you tighten up at the abruptness, taking a step back. His eyes flickered to your feet before back up at you. Something mischievous oozed from him, and it felt like Soap was the one teasing you rather than Gaz.

Why were you so flustered? Was it due to the absence of light-hearted mockery that you’ve now forgotten what it felt like?

“Okay, okay. I will find you the most brilliant gift on the Mainland,” you bragged, attempting to come off aloof.

Gaz’s smile grew, though he didn’t step away from you. “Excellent.”

You watched as he finally moved, straightening up. He radiated a boyishness, one you didn’t see often, so you allowed him the advantage. The two of you were growing friends, or at least that’s how it felt. You didn’t want to lose that feeling.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Price ordered his men. He said it with such warning, as if you weren’t standing amongst them.

It made sense, though you felt like a child with a leash on. After all, the last time you joined them on the Mainland, you ended up in a heated game of hide and seek with the soldiers you so stupidly entrusted.

Ghost stood silent, eyes peering over the side of the ship and to the faint view of the bustling town sitting several hundred yards away. He seemed on edge, more than he normally was, but you could only tell so much from his stiff body language.

You followed his view, squinting. The Captain decided it was best to dock the ship on a farther pier, away from the crowd. Out of sight, out of mind. Nobody would notice them unless they went searching.

“Aye, Cap,” Soap and Gaz synchronized.

Price glanced at Ghost, who shifted his focus off of the land and to his Captain. He gave him a curt nod, and seeing that Price was satisfied, the five of you began to head off.

Ghost was in charge of you this time, much to your dismay. It was evident Price was still weary of you running off, and it seemed Ghost was his most trusted candidate for the job.

The walk towards the busy town was quiet apart from Soap and Gaz speaking quietly behind you. You tried to listen in, but it seemed Soap had a keen sixth sense because before you knew it, his hands cupped over your ears, shielding you from the chatter.

You could very faintly hear Gaz snickering, so you frowned to yourself, disappointed.

You always wondered what they all spoke about when you weren’t around. It always felt like there was this lingering whisper in the air that spoke a language you didn’t understand.

The maps, the poem, none of it made sense to you and nobody was offering answers. Even when you tried to shush it in your mind as it played on replay, it never quite left. It was always in the corner, waiting to return once things got too quiet.

Glancing at Ghost from beside you, he gave no indication of… anything, really. Even after all this time, he was still an impossible read. He stood tall as always, walked with an edge to him, and kept his eyes forward.

You’d never met somebody so confusing yet utterly frustrating at the same time. One moment, he gave you hopes of a bright future on the ship—getting along, finding solitude in one another, empathizing understanding.

Yet as quickly as those feelings would come, they’d be squashed with a mere glare. A burning fire. Something reserved.

You didn’t think he understood himself, either.

When you came to the bounds of the town, Price stopped you. He glanced up at the sky, eyes squinting at the brightness on his retinas, before looking back.

The sun blared down on you from directly above.

“Return here when the sun falls to the west. If anythin’ happens, and I mean anythin’,” he paused, meeting your eyes before shifting back to his men, “then you run back to the ship and signal the bell. Am I understood?”

You really hoped Ghost was good with directions, or at least had a compass. You weren’t sure how to read the time through the sun’s positions. It was never a necessity before when you knew that it was nighttime when the moon came out to play.

You looked back at the ship that was now in the distance. It floated mindlessly along the lapping waves, bobbing back and forth as if saying hello.

The men confirmed with Price. Just as you were about to join them as they trudged on forward, Price stopped you with an arm held out, blocking you from walking.

“You aren’t goin’ to run off on me again, are you?” he asked quietly, though there was that familiar touch of authority to his tone. It wasn’t malicious, but you knew the implications—he wanted to trust you.

“No, sir,” you assured with a shake of your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you dared to look at Ghost, who was impatiently waiting if the tapping of his fingers on his crossed arms meant anything. “I won’t do such a thing.”

The Captain kept his arm up for a moment so he could look at you. His eyes searched yours, so much so it made you flustered.

“Good.” He nodded. “Go along, then.”

He dropped his arm, letting it fall to his side. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he simply cleared his throat and gave you a farewell with a nod.

You watched him leave, disappearing into the swarm of shopping townsfolk. Curiosity festered you like a tick, itching into your skin, but you knew it was best to leave it be for now.

“You comin’?”

Ghost snapped you out of your spell. You quickly came back to reality, offering a quick nod before jogging to catch up to him, sticking to him like glue as you entered the town.

It was loud and overwhelming as you followed Ghost around. He made haste with purchases which ranged from stock for food to new knives that glinted tauntingly at you in the light, all of which were shoved into the bag thrown on his shoulders.

You knew people were staring. Even if they were directed towards Ghost and his eccentric appearance, it felt like they were watching you for even being associated with him.

The whispers between women about it being scandalous, the chatter between men who felt imposing threat from Ghost merely standing there.

You didn’t know why, but a part of you felt more defensive than humiliated. Your image was one mocked for the entirety of your lifespan, but Ghost had done nothing to warrant it. Not to them, anyway. To you was a different story.

None of that mattered now, though. You were growing increasingly irritated at being looked upon like a circus act.

“Ignore it,” Ghost muttered. You almost didn’t quite catch it. “I can feel you gettin’ huffy.”

You scowled, crossing your arms and turning your head. Ghost paid you no mind, continuing to browse in the small shop you were in.

“I am not huffy,” you mumbled.

Ghost paused, turning his head towards you. He stared, eyes flickering over your face—first to your furrowed eyebrows, then to your narrowed eyes, then down to your lips tugged into a frown.

He snorted quietly through his nose, returning to his browsing.

The sound made you turn your head. Dare you say it sounded amused, though it could be your ears deceiving you.

You decided to ignore it. The last thing you wanted was to bring it up and have him reserve back to permanently scowling.

Ghost straightened up from the various knives he was looking at, uninterested. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

“Need anythin’?” he asked, sniffing.

You perked up, hand coming to rest on the small pouch resting on your hip. It contained the coins Gsz gifted you for clothing, as well as the surprise gift he requested of you.

Nothing came to mind on what to get him. You were clueless, and really didn’t want to owe him.

“Gaz was generous enough to give me coins to buy my own clothes,” you explained, shaking the pouch. Coins within the bag clanked together.

Ghost glanced down at the pouch. “I see,” he hummed, a touch of confusion in his words. Almost as if he was surprised.

He gestured with his head to follow him. The two of you left the quaint shop, stepping back out on to the dusty road. Ghost didn’t move from the entrance, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking at you.

A silent question. He was allowing you to make the choice on where to go.

Looking around, you realized you knew close to nothing about shopping for clothes. Not of these kind, anyway. You were used to the muted, colorless fabrics that never seemed to fit quite right.

You decided on a shop that displayed a variety of different clothes and colors in the windows. Some looked too delectable for your taste, and much too expensive, while some were more simple.

Stepping inside, the sight was positively overwhelming. Colors of all kinds lined the walls. Stuffed mannequins were pinned together with dresses.

Ghost seemed severely uncomfortable. You were elated. A taste of your own self was hidden somewhere within these walls, and you were going to find it.

“Go ahead,” Ghost gruffed from beside you. He shifted on his feet, eyes averting to nowhere. “Not my thing.”

You hummed in response, leaving to browse on your own accord. If Ghost didn’t seem to mind, then you wouldn’t rush yourself.

You took your time. You went through everything you can think of—greens, blues, purples, reds. None seem to fit you. Or more so, you wouldn’t fit with them.

Neutrals were their friends. Browns, grays, anything above the stars. So, naturally, that’s what you went for. Something to fit in and not stand out. You were facing that enough as is.

Once you focused your preference, you found quite a few options and went with what felt best.

Ghost watched you with muted curiosity as you fluttered around the store with a heap of clothes in your arms. He only looked away once he was caught.

As you were about to call your search a success, a glint of gold in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A beautiful miniature telescope sat locked away in a glass case, made from dark wood and detailed with an exquisite gold design.

The sight of it instantly reeled you in.

It was the perfect gift for Gaz. You came to learn that he had a love for the moon and stars, often leaving the room late at night to ponder beneath them. You knew you wouldn’t lose your game if you got it for him.

The only issue was that the price was hefty.

You looked down at your strew of clothes, contemplating. The coins in your pouch would be enough for your clothes, but not for the telescope as well.

The telescope called out to you, like a secret siren’s song pulling you into captivity. It chose you, and you chose it back.

Ultimately, you graciously returned some of the fabrics back to their original areas, leaving them tidy and neat. You approached Ghost with nothing more than a few clothings items, enough to get you by.

You were never materialistic anyway.

Ghost stood, silently observing but feigning disinterest as you made the big purchase for your clothes, then requested the telescope. He made no comment, eyes following your every move as you emptied the contents of your pouch, the coins clanking along the counter.

The merchant was happy to sell it to you, claiming that nobody seemed interested. You were pleased to hear that, and with a quick and easy exchange, the clothes and telescope were yours, placed carefully into Ghost’s bag.

“Is that it, then?” Ghost huffed, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder.

You nodded, satisfied with your purchases as you set off along the old roads to return to the rest of the crew.

As you walked, your eyes ventured along the way, taking in the varying crowds. Some mothers, some fathers, some alone on their own journeys. None paid you any mind.

Until one did.

A man. Not as tall as your crew, but certainly as threatening. His entire aura would be misty black if it was visible to the naked eye. His hair was a cropped mess on his head, brown like the dirt beneath your shoes.

His skin was scarred and tainted, dark eyes piercing into you. Even from a distance, you feared you’d combust into a bloodied, explosive mess just from the sheer look he gave you.

The worst was his smile. Cocky. Arrogant. Evil.

If death were a man, this would be its vessel.

His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. He was too far away. It wasn’t until the wind bristled, rising goosebumps along your skin did you hear it. His voice traveled along the breeze until it whisked to your ears, flooding through.

“I’ll be seeing you, dove.”

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sugawhaaa · 6 months ago

Note

May I request a Yeosang X reader winter theme smut? Maybe if you don't mind include squrting fingerings and creampies? If you is okay with it

YEOSANG ONE-SHOT

☕️•Cold cocoa•☕️

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, fingering, handjob, creampie, pet names, praise, lil degradation

Pairing:: switch!yeosang x switch!fem!reader

A/N:: idk what to really say abt this fanfic...uhm merry Christmas yall

Taglist:: @annafeebou

🎧::

After a pretty heavy snow throughout the day Yeosang wanted to take you on an evening walk on a nearby trail to admire the snow and such. It was one of those still snow days, no wind, so all the snow stayed on the tree branches adding to the wintery vibe.

The entire time Yeosang held your hand though he was wearing mits so he wasn't holding your hand for warmth, just comfort. You noticed Yeosang was rather cuddly and clinging, very unusual for him, and it kind of set off some signals in your head. "Are you feeling alright?" You ask abruptly and Yeosang turns to you.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm good," he smiles sincerely but something deep down tells you something is on his mind. You continue your walk seeing some birds and friendly critters before heading home. You shook off your snow gear and began to prepare hot chocolate which Yeosang was excited for. Once again, yeosang clings to you.

Yeosang comes up behind you while you prepare the hot chocolate, his hands tightly but slowly wrapping around your waist; he pulls you close and nuzzles his face into the back of your shoulder. He began to kiss your neck softly and you let out a soft gasp.

"Yeosang what's with you today?" You chuckle softly as he pushes you closer to the counter.

"I missed my baby," he says between kisses. As you stir the hot cocoa Yeosang nibbles down on your skin, making you moan softly. "I don't know how much longer I can wait," he groans as he bucks his hips against your ass, his boner rubbing up against you. You gasp before biting your lip. Yeosangs hands trail down to the waistband of your pants, clawing and needing at it. "Please baby, say yes," he whimpers into your ear and you sigh softly.

"Yeah you got me," you chuckle. "Take the wheel, baby," you smile and Yeosang jumps back before lifting you into his arms effortlessly. He brings you out to the living room, setting you down on the couch in front of the fireplace. "What do you have in mind?" You ask curiously and you feel Yeosangs cold fingers run up your shirt, making you instinctively moan.

"Maybe warm you up from the inside?" He smirks shyly. He was clearly trying to be suggestive and seductive but sometimes his shyness creeps out. You assist him in undressing you and once you're clean of clothing he sits down beside you on the sofa and gently prys your legs open, pulling one of your thighs closer to him. His fingers were cold against your warm skin but you kind of enjoyed it.

He then trailed his fingers up your thigh, ghosting over your skin, as you moaned and whined. He was a master at teasing and getting you all wet and ready but it drove you insane. His fingers finally danced over your sensitive skin, gently rubbing your clit with his cold fingers. The stark contrast of temperature makes you jump.

Yeosang kisses your jaw softly before whispering a little praise. "You're so pretty babygirl," he says in a low tone. He trails his fingers back down, teasing your entrance with his cold fingertips before gently pushing his middle finger inside you. He smirks as he watches you moan. Your pussy reflexively tightens around the cold intrusion and Yeosang grins. "You're so tight," he teases.

"And your fingers are so cold," you whine and Yeosang laughs softly.

"I know, but you love it don't you?" He rubs his finger deeper inside you, rubbing against that plush spot hidden deep. You let out a choked moan and he smirks. Yeosang knows everything about your body, where and how to make it hurt, make your head spin, squirt, cry and so on. He knows your body in and out by now. He quickly inserts another finger before bringing his thumb up to rub your clit as well. Your knees jerk up with a little whine.

He begins to thrust his fingers into you at a rather rough and fast tempo. You throw your head back and grab onto his shirt.

"You never give me time to adjust do you?" You whine as you feel the knot in your stomach already twisting up.

"And it always makes you cum harder, no?" He grins as he leans closer to you, his fingers never losing their pace. Suddenly you feel a change in your gut at his tactics. Was he hitting deeper? Going faster? Or perhaps it was his persistence, but something he was doing made your head spin.

"Y-Yeosang?" You whimper and he tilts his head looking at you.

"Yes, babygirl?" He moves his fingers faster and harder, making you squeal. He already knew what you were experiencing and he was excited as all hell.

"I-I feel I-Im," you throw your head back, your eyes following, as your back arches. "Yes, yes," you whimper and Yeosang grins.

"Let it out baby," he cooes as your vision blurs and your body hears up in a surge of pleasure. As your body goes numb with pleasure you feel warm liquid spurting out from your pussy. Yeosang rubs your clit and folds with the flat of his fingers as your juices spray out across the floor. Yeosang knows this sensation can be a little overwhelming so he doesn't say much, just easing you out of the high and once you're finally sedated he begins to praise you. "You did so good babygirl, making such a mess," he smiles before kissing you softly.

"That was intense," you chuckle and Yeosang tucks back your hair.

"I'm sure it was," he quickly fetches you a cup of water to help you recharge. "You want to keep going or cut it off here?" He asks warmly as he watches you relax again. You shake your head.

"I wanna keep going," you smile before setting the cup down on the table stand by the couch. "I want to repay you," you nod, and Yeosang blushes.

"As you wish, but you know you don't have to," he shifts to lay back against the couch, no longer facing you.

"I know but I want to," you smile as you now turn to face him. You undo his pants and gently tug them down along with his boxers finally letting him free. He tosses his head back with a groan as the cold air hits his cock. You gently wrap your hand around his cock, holding it sturdily.

"Your hands always feel so nice," he moans with a light smirk. You begin to gently massage his cock, not jerking, but rubbing those sweet spots and massaging his tip though he really didn't need any more blood flow there, already rock hard. He bites his lip between sighs and gasps as you toy with him. "Please stop teasing me," he pleads and you consider his offer. In the end, you decided to begin to slowly jerk him off, the sound of his precum sticking to your palm echoing in the room. "Shit, yes," he chuckles lowly before moaning.

His hips buck up shakily into your hand, aching to be closer to you or perhaps closer to cumming. "B-Babe," he breathes out shakily and you turn to him.

"Yes, darling?" You say coyly and he chuckles lowly, very aware of that teasing tone.

"I'm close," he whimpers lowly and you jerk him off harder, your fist slapping down into his pelvis. He lets out a broken cry of pleasure at the speed and intensity of your torture. His back arches up off the couch and you slow down your hand. "Ah, fuck, why do you always do that~" he whines pathetically and you smirk.

"Because it's so fun hearing you whine and beg like a baby," you smirk and he growls.

"That's not-" you cut him off by moving your hand faster again, causing his jaw to lock open and eyes to water. "Damn!" He cries out as he fists his own hair. "I-I'm gonna cum," he chokes out and this time you let him reach that peak, no longer holding him down. His legs tremble as his body curls forward in pleasure. He rests against the couch panting as his cum soaks into your hand.

"Big load," you smirk and he scowls at you but he's too tired to reply, just resting back against the couch. You grab the cup of water from earlier and hand it to him with a smile. He gratefully takes it but not without saying "You're gonna be the one needing this when I'm done with you," he smirks before chugging some water. "Alright baby, you riding me or am I fucking you into the cushions? Up to you," he smirks with that little gleam in his eyes that says 'either way you don't have a way out of this'. He probably wants payback for that slightly delayed orgasm.

"The cushions could you some company," you smile and Yeosang chuckles. He tosses off his shirt lifts you up off the couch by your hips.

"This way babe," he guides you to the arm of the couch and you look back at him.

"Really?" You arch a brow and he smiles.

"Yup! Bend over," he puts a hand on your back as he gently pushes you over the armrest. "I wanna fuck you so deep," he mumbles but he's loud enough that you hear him. He quickly lines his cock up with the slit of your cunt before nudging it in a bit. You whimper softly.

"Cmon put it in already," you whine and Yeosang laughs.

"Impatient," he kisses the back of your neck softly before jolting his hips forward, his length fully buried inside you. You lean forward with a cry and Yeosang chuckles darkly behind you. He doesn't wait for you to adjust before pounding into you, making your eyes roll back.

"God damn Yeosang," you moan and he smirks.

"Too much for you to handle?" He teases, leaning down closer to you.

"Never," you chuckle and he brings a hand around to the front of you, holding your jaw, and his fingers dip into your mouth slightly, feeling the wet warmth; a similar texture to the feeling around his cock.

"That's right, you take me so good," he smirks as he growls in your ear, his hips never faltering. His cock squeezed past your walls so nicely it made your head spin and butterflies twirl in your stomach. "Gonna fill you up so sweetly," he groans as he goes faster, which you didn't think was possible.

"Yeosang!" You cry out, your speech sloppy because of the fingers in your mouth. Your head falls but Yeosang quickly holds it up.

"Hm? Something wrong babygirl?" He teases and you whimper.

"I-I feel close," you admit shyly, not wanting to cum so early.

"Is that right? Well then..." he starts slamming into you so hard that the couch shifts with each powerful thrust and your cunt is quick to shatter from the harshness. With a final thrust, he releases inside you, simultaneously. He lets your head go, falling down and panting, sweat building along your face. "You did good baby," he rubs your waist softly and pulls out, watching the cream ooze from your pussy. "So good," he kisses your back before getting you to sit on the couch. "Here have a drink," he offers you the cup again before fetching some towels to clean up your mess.

As he grabs the cloths you see the two cups of hot cocoa on the kitchen table.

"Oh I forgot about those," you say as Yeosang walks back into the living room.

"Oh yeah...they must've gone cold by now," he chuckles before wiping up the liquid on the floor. "We can microwave them," he smiles at you warmly, making your heart flutter.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez requests #ateez reaction #ateez hard asks #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #yeosang smut #ateez yeosang #yeosang

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simonrileysfavteacup · 1 year ago

Text

The Scare (Alternate Ending)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, torture, descriptions of blood n torture, comfort, simon in ghost mode, idk what else

Summary: No summary ;) have fun

Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more.

But there was one thing that made him soft. One person.

You.

Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name.

But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?

***

Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”

Simon shivered.

And then he realised.

Graves was coming for you.

***

You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy.

You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening.

Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.

You check your phone.

Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.

There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this.

You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people.

Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment.

With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.

The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door.

1 kick…

2 kicks…

3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath.

“That her?” The first man asks.

“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.

You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak.

One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”

He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.

They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words.

Help me…

The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso.

You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”

He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. The front door comes into view. They have no care whatsoever, with you hitting your head on the wall. Black dots appear in your vision, slowly taking you out of consciousness.

***

Simon stepped into the apartment the two of you shared, praying he wasn’t too late.

The apartment was silent.

The first bad sign.

He walks towards your bedroom, the door wide open.

The second bad sign.

The bed was empty, your candle was still lit, and your book was closed on your bed.

With no bookmark.

The third bad sign.

He was too late. He knew he was too late.

***

2 weeks.

16 days.

16 nights you slept.

24 hours you counted every day.

16 days you slept uneasy.

Counting down the minutes until Simon would finally find you.

At least, you hoped he would.

The men brought you to what seemed like an old warehouse, locking you up in a dark grey rooms. 4 grey walls stared back at you. One little cot in the corner of the room, on the opposite wall, a door. A door you were dragged through every day to be taken to the room you were tortured in every day. They always asked the same questions.

And they were all about Simon.

You said nothing, of course. How could you betray him like that? He protects you, you protect him.

Even if it meant the bruises on your arms would keep coming, the cuts on your back wouldn’t stop bleeding, the grumbling in your stomach wouldn’t stop getting louder, and the pain would just grow.

You were willing to take it all for him. He was worth it.

You stare up at the grey ceiling above you, sighing as you lay on the cot, silently praying that wherever Simon is, he’s safe, he’s eaten, and he’s healthy. And he’s looking for you.

You know he probably is. He loves you. He tells you all the time that you’re his whole world.

But a part of you can’t help but think that he isn’t coming. You know it’s a lie, Simon would never leave you. Especially when you know he loves you.

You silently pray. And pray.

Until the grey fades away and the black of sleep takes over.

***

On the morning of the 17th day, you woke up to gunshots. You shivered. Gunshots always meant bad things. At least, that’s what Simon says.

You stand on shaky legs before getting down, sitting with your knees to your chest. Footsteps make their way closer to your room. Your anxiety skyrockets. The door flies open.

On instinct, you crawl backwards, in fear. A hand reaches out to you.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you cry.

“’s me, lovie! ’s me! ’s okay! You’re okay…’s jus’ me. ’s me, lovie…”

You know that voice. You know that accent. You know that way of not pronouncing ‘t’s.

Simon.

You peer your eyes open, to be met with a skull mask looking back at you. Acting on instinct, you throw your arms around him, letting out a loud sob of relief. His arms tighten, holding your body against him. He strokes your hair softly.

“Prove it,” you whisper.

“Prove what, lovie?”

“Prove that you’re Simon…I can’t trust anyone right now…” you reply shakily. He nods, taking off his mask. “Si…” You shake your head. “Not enough…”

“You hate the smell of ketchup. You can’t stand vinegar in any of your food. You always light candles when you read. You forgive, but you never forget. You like chocolate and strawberry ice cream, but you can’t stand chocolate-covered strawberries. You love ‘The Rookie’, even though it’s inaccurate and it sucks. You need more?” he rambles.

You giggle softly through the tears in your eyes, curling into him once more.

“‘m here, ‘m here, I promise. ‘M not leavin’ you. Gonna take you home,” he smiles at you, still holding you against him. His eyes drift down to the bruises and the cuts and the dried blood on your arms. You notice his eyes, the soft glint in them gone, replaced by an angry look. He presses a finger into his ears. “Johnny, don’ spare any o’ them.”

You blink a few times to process his words but snuggle closer to him as he speaks to Johnny. He takes off his jacket, wrapping you in it. He holds you there for what seems like hours, though it’s merely 10 minutes. A sigh escapes his lips as he stands up, heading out of the room you’re both in. He keeps your head cradled against him, shielding you from the battle going on outside.

He takes you onto a jet, a military one, you recognize. He sets you down on a seat, sitting next to you, holding onto you. “Simon…” his name escapes your lips as a whisper, your eyes starting to close again.

“Keep ‘em open, please. Lovie, I need t’ know you're still conscious. Please, keep ‘em open,” his free hand caresses your face. “Just a little longer, I promise.”

“Trying,” you respond. He smiles, continuing to play with my hair. “Hey Si?”

“Hmm?” He hums.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, lovie.”

#ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost imagine #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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sunkeji · 1 year ago

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Scenarios of Ace and Deuce being your bffs who both have a crush on you

a/n: forgot to post,my bad!

tags: mentions of reader wearing a skirt in the 3rd section; lmk if I missed anything.

synopsis: Daily scenarios of Ace and Deuce being your bffs and them both having a crush on you

when you, Ace, Deuce and Grim get punished and tasked to clean the animal enclosure; specifically the hedgehogs, the first 15 minutes are spent actually doing your jobs and then you all collectively get distracted by each other.

Deuce has the brilliant idea to make bets on the hedgehogs and you all immediately agree except the hedgehogs scatter in different directions. In the end, a ridiculous debate ensues on whose hedgehog would have potentially, won the race

***

If you guys have a considerably long break between lessons, the four of you would head back to Ramshackle to play whatever card or board games are available with the ghosts.

quite a handful of times you guys lose track of time and have to fly back to the mirror (literally), through the halls (and hoping you don't get caught) and into the classroom.

Your positions on the broom are predetermined as follows: Deuce Infront, you in the middle with Grim on your lap and Ace behind you. Deuce gets to drive(?) because he has more experience in driving recklessly but safely...

Deuce was initially a bit shy because you're holding onto him but after a few more occurrences of the same thing, he got used to it. The giddy feeling he gets whenever you wrap your hands around his waist and the warmth emanating from your body never goes away though.

Grim is just happy because some type of chaos is going on and he gets to keep warm being sandwiched between you and Deuce. If you ever lean your body forward onto Deuce's, he might start feeling faint and lose his concentration on flying.

Ace is absolutely having the time of his life behind you because he gets to HOLD YOU. And if Deuce isn't driving steady enough, he has more of an excuse to hold you tighter. He would also try his luck each time and see how far he can go. Would you allow him to lean on you completely? Rest his head on your shoulder? The possibilities are endless.

***

Whenever the Aduece duo are hanging out in your room and are left unsupervised for too long, they'd either enable each other into doing stupid shit or start bickering. In this case, it's the former scenario.

You left them to their own devices while you went back to the classroom to get one of the books you needed to complete a homework assignment.

Usually they'd want to follow you because hey, you get to spend more time with the person you like, What more could you want?

But since the person they like doesn't originate from the same region, better yet same dimension; what better way to learn more about your crush then to snoop around their room?

So they do snoop around and after looking through your personal belongings on the shelves and drawers, they move on to your wardrobe.

Out of sheer curiosity, Ace opens your wardrobe and finds your clothes. His eyes straight away land on the skirts that are hanged neatly and immediately has a brilliant idea.

By the time you get back to Ramshackle and open the door, you're rendered speechless by what you're seeing. Both Ace and Deuce are wearing your skirts and are taking mirror selfies all while posing in cute positions.

The image you see before you is truly baffling that you still hadn't moved; seeing this, Ace flips his phone to you and takes a picture of your shocked expression. Definitely posts everything on magicam (idk how to spell it)

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #heartslaybul x reader #ace trapolla x reader #ace x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #deuce x yuu #ace x yuu #twsited wonderland #twst ace #twst deuce #heartslabyul #x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

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i scroll through your page every day like it’s my freaking newspaper omg thank you for all the bimbo!reader content 😭😭🥰

this is kind of going off of your post of reader pampering simon and johnny calling him a pretty boy lol

idk if you’ve ever heard of the boyfriend effect? it’s like this silly (but true) theory that men go through a glow up when getting into a relationship 😅😅

but i def see that in simon. like after getting with reader, he’s taking more pride in his appearance. his muscles aren’t just to keep him at the top of his job but he loves the way you drool over them. or he’s like taken to grooming his facial hair or he’s cleaning up his eyebrows, making sure his nails are clean, he’s stepped up his cologne game 🫠🫠

he just appreciates how much work reader puts into her appearance and finds her so beautiful, he wants to be up to her standards and feel like he’s worthy of being with her 🥺🥺

YES ABSOLUTELY!!

Simon was never one to worry much about his appearance, just wearing military-issued clothes and other random things he bought when he wasn't deployed. It's mentioned that he also didn't even know what skincare was before meeting her and this man used to wash his face with only water or body wash 😭 but once she starts getting him introduced to all those things and she starts doing his skincare?? Simon Riley, the man that you are.

He's seen you spend over an hour doing your skincare and always making sure your presentation looks good before going out, spending a lot of time doing your makeup, hair, nails and planning outfits, and he starts truly believing that he has to look good for you as well.

He starts to trim his nails more and clean them up well, sometimes even asking you for help or accepting to go get a manicure with you so the callouses in his hands get better and he can have soft hands to hold and touch you. He'd never admit it, but he spent a long time at different stores trying to pick a body wash and cologne that smells pleasant so he can always smell nice when he's out with you.

He starts to shave his face more often, using an aftershave with a pleasant, masculine smell. He tries his best to shower before coming back home to you, and if he's not able to, the first thing he does is suggest that you both take a shower together, secretly proud to see your surprised face at how many things he uses now to clean his body compared to the tiny bar of cheap soap that he used when you first met.

Sure, his muscles make him a more intimidating figure in the battlefield and help him be at the top, but he's never felt more grateful for them than when you're tying a bow on his arm and making him flex just to see it unwrap. He absolutely loves how you worship his body and having your long, pretty nails run over his muscles when you touch him, squeezing his muscles and drooling over them and how cool he looks.

He wants to keep up with you— you're a very pretty girl who puts a lot of effort into your appearance, and he wants to do the same, wanting to look worthy of being with you even when in your eyes, he was fully worthy of it even before he changed.

I also believe that bimbo!reader had the idea to plan his Senpai Ghost outfit HBJEFJHFEHJBFE

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

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lxvvie · 2 years ago

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whenever i think of lil domestic life blurbs the first thing i think is "hmm i wonder what lxvvie would write about this" LOL (can u tell i love u and ur writing!! <3)

for instance: imagine the cod characters trying desperately for you to finally claim one of their shirts as ur own sleep shirt. but like, you've worn the same thrifted oversized shirt every night since college, and tbh you really don't want to change up your routine now, and yeah, a strangers random shirt is actually more comfortable than yours, thank you very much

cue chaos. also idk who this would fit but i feel like one of them would be like don't wanna wear my shirt to sleep? fine and then proceed to replace every article of clothing in your closet, except for that sleep shirt, with one of their own. what!!! technically they listened to you!!!

I can see it going a lil' something like this (it might deviate some from your ask so forgive me! 😭):

Price would be a bit subtler than the rest. A comment or suggestion is given here or there because if it's comfort you're looking for, his shirts are where it's at.

Gaz is the one who outright tells you that he wants you in his shirt. Like... right now.

Soap leaves his shirts lying around with the express purpose of you putting them on. If you were to ask him to grab a shirt for you from the laundry room, best believe he will come back with his shirt for you to wear.

Ghost tells you that he can't sleep at night because your shirt feels "rough against his skin" 🙄. You call bullshit because his shirts have the same exact texture, and he calls bullshit to your bullshit because they absolutely do not. You can't help but wonder if there's some credibility to his words, though, because when you sleep in his shirt one night, he's out like a light.

Keller is the one who's like, "Got something for ya, Boss," and he tosses you his shirt and you're confused. "Alex, this is yours," and he shrugs and is all, "Not for long, I hope."

Alejandro wouldn't necessarily feel some kind of way about you wearing the shirt but if, for instance, it was from an ex? He'll envision burning it. In the meantime in-between time, wear his shirt.

Rudy tells you that he loves it when you wear his shirts because it feels good knowing a piece of him is still with you when he's away and that's all the more reason for you to wear them.

Horangi just wants his scent on you because he's claiming what's his.

König thinks it's absolutely adorable the way his shirts fit like freaking blankets on you. Then there was that one time you put on a shirt that he uses when he's away on assignment...

Graves doesn't really care... unless he's away. When he's home, he'd rather you sleep naked. For reasons. Reasons that involve horizontal dancing.

Keegan would just silently hand you his shirt, unwavering stare and all.

Roach's approach is similar to Rudy but he'd oh-so-politely ask, "Please...?"

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thedanniannie · 8 months ago

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🖤Uchiha Men dating goth baddies pt.2🖤

Descriptions lean femme

Nsfw mentions

Uchihas mentioned: Madara, Obito, Shisui, Itachi

Madara:

- I know I said in my last post he maybe wouldn't deliberately simp for goth babes like some of these other Uchihas on my list, but if anyone was going to be the token metal head boyfriend to their goth babe, it's gonna be him.

- like common, he's not gonna have a mane like that and NOT fit the metal head vibe okay?? LIKE LET'S GET INTO THIS FANTASY!!

- And this man has NO crafty skills.... so imagine helping him with sewing patches on his battle jackets UUUUUGGGGHHJDJJDJSJXJCHD

- He's the guy to have gone to a couple of shows with Hashi when they were young, and he just stopped going as he got older. But he would absolutely cave if you batted your eyelashes and asked him to take you to one. Also, he's protective as fucking fuck.

- And at a show, if he finds you slowly inching your way to the pit, he will snake his arm around your torso to pull you back and just give you the most firm look that's like "you're not going in there missy"

Obito:

- He'd wear the ghost face mask.... I feel like we already knew this information. Like, he'd be on goth tiktok and already KNOW that the goth girls fall hard for a man in a mask and would just happen to have the mask from a past Halloween costume and just make note to NEVER throw it out lol

- Although he can be freaky with the mask, he will also be unbearably sweet. The second he learns about boyfriends making "boo baskets" for their spooky partners, he gets to cooking on it.

- I actually think Obi would have a lot of fun finally getting to do all the typical spooky couple shit. Because although I see Obi for sure simping for the goth babes, for some reason he doesn't approach. But with the mix of being a sweetie at heart and the deep trauma he has, he could for sure keep up with his love's date ideas.

- But I think his favorite would be going to scare nights and going through mazes with his partner. Like, ofc he lives staying home and cuddling while watching horror films, but there's something he likes about getting to play the protective bf type during all the scares

- his other favorite thing is having to clean off all the black lipstick stains after a night out. He would beg (and probably has) to get some, especially after you saying you don't want it to "bother him"

Shisui:

- He's gonna regularly send the text that all goths want to hear from their partners: "Hey babe, do you want to get dressed up and get coffee and go Halloween shopping?"

- If you tell him that you had a horrible day at work, he will make sure his queen of darkness is well pampered. A dark themed bath will be drawn, with the favorite Halloween seasonal candle lit. And he will end the night by putting on Coraline for the two of you to relax to. Idk he's just a knowledgeable simp like that.

- As I'm writing Shisui, I feel like I'm making him seem really ran through. And I guess KINDAAA, like I think Shisui would REALLY like the goths. But it's never out of objectification, he just loves how much they embrace the darkness, and look so hot while doing it. But he's an Uchiha, and they're serious about love, so I think "ran through" would like, he's genuinely dated two goths and just had so much love for them that he learned a lot.

- Also I could see Shisui as the kind of guy who is alt at heart, but doesn't look it. He probably never really TRIED to be alt, like outwardly that is, not because he doesn't like it but rather is just happy to listen to the music and know the people. And when you first met him, you thought he was some regular guy and wouldn't know anything about the subcultures. Until he drove you to your guy's first date, and his music taste completely said otherwise

Itachi:

- Idk why but something in me sees him as being intuitively intelligent with any DIY or gothy clothing alterations. Like, he is savvy enough to know the cheapest places to get things, how to make shit happen on a budget. That intelligence could get him places in alternative crafts, but I also see him as someone not driven to be creative. He's just smart, so he can at least offer a helping hand with any craft his goth partner wants to do

- he also likes to genuinely visit historic and haunted locations. Tbh, I don't think Itachi would believe in ghosts. But he's not patronizing to his partner if they do, and will happily tag along to visit haunted places. Mainly because I just see him as a history buff.

- gives you regal hand kisses, but at the randomest of times. Like yeah, maybe some here and there when he greets you or says goodbye, which was more so the case before your relationship got more serious. But now it's tradition, so he's just a little playful with it. A soft kiss on the hand before your "goodnight kiss," periodically when watching horror movies. His playfulness is still so poised lol. He's a vampire that's why lol.

- maybe he'll even nibble on your goth ass neck like he's a vampire BUT IDK YOU DIDN'T HEAR IT FROM MEEEE (😈)

I think my first Uchiha x goths is probably my most popular post, so I wanted to make more of it. Although this has been sitting in my notes for like a month, oops. But yall loving my first one gave me the motivation to finish this one, for all my fellow goth Uchiha lovers out there!

#itachi uchiha #shisui uchiha #obito uchiha #madara uchiha #itachi x reader #shisui x reader #obito x reader #madara x reader #itachi headcanons #shisui headcanons #obito headcanons #goth reader

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tempting-andromeda · 2 years ago

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I missed my boys so I’m back at headcanons

Misc headcanons

Characters: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Sunmers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Eagle Flies

Arthur Morgan

Super awkward about gift giving but he loves giving you little trinkets from his adventures. Like a small flower or a pretty Little Rock

He’s just like “here” drops it in your hand and then stands there awkwardly

Doesn’t hide his facial expressions as well as he thinks he does.

He loves to gossip. If you tell him something juicy he acts like he doesn’t care but he’ll drop something even crazier with a smirk

Reluctantly tells you about his adventures but he just doesn’t want to brag

John Marston

Every time he asks for you to bathe with him it ends up with him getting a scrub down instead of getting headed (he doesn’t know why he expects anything else anymore)

Thinks burps are peak comedy.

He likes when you ask his opinion about things even though he’ll bullshit his way through

Like a purple or blue shirt? Hmm it’s cold so wear the blue one because blue is for cold.

Accidentally shows his buttcrack a lot. His pants just never sit on his hips right and I just…I can feel it.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He likes dates where you two go out into Saint Denis and pretend to be someone else for the night.

Likes picking out your outfits for you. He finds it romantic.

Has a thing for helping you tie or buckle your shoes

Always thinks the smallest knees is the biggest news or the other way around

Tries to dance with you in the most random of moments. Like you’re a little pissed about something and he’ll come up to you and just start swaying

Charles Smith

Cannot stand when people share food by sucking on peoples fingers. Like when people dip their finger into the cake batter and share it.

Has the most obvious side eye ever. He simply cannot hide it.

Favorite cuddling position is where you lay on top of him

He doesn’t drink much but when he does he’s a completely different person.

Will bluntly ask you a weird question like “what alcohol do you think would be your horse’s favorite”

Javier Escuella

Likes lipstick marks. Thinks it’s one of the most attractive things ever. Has a shirt where you left a lipstick stain on the collar

Says the sassiest shit under his breath 5 minutes after it’s relevant and gets pissed

Rehearses a conversation in his head before he has it

Makes you learn Spanish for “code words” but reallt he just wants to teach you Spanish

Has a habit of repeating words just for himself outside of conversations

Sean MacGuire

He thinks he’s the suavest mother fucker around. He will randomly share how he pulled you to random people

Makes the worst inside jokes he’ll never drop

Loves to spin you around randomly. He doesn’t care if you hate it.

Keeps food in his pockets (sometimes wrapped in cloth) and doesn’t see a problem with it

Thinks cringy pet names are the best like “snugglemuffin”

Lenny Summers

One of his favorite dates are leisurely strolls

He liked when you help him get dressed. Like help him with his vest

Idk why I think he has like the same idea as romance as those really happy old people

Likes when you keep him company while he’s patrolling

Loves cheek kisses! One of his favorite things ever!

Kieran Duffy

He likes to join you if you have a self care routine.

Likes to share things with you. Like some food or his clothes.

Makes the most out there “what ifs” or “would you rather” questions

Just casually knows how to do decent hairstyles because he got bored while working with the horses.

Wakes up too easily. At the smallest thing. You could twitch and he’s stirring awake

Micah Bell

Thinks it’s funny to ghost you. He always says stuff like “distance makes the heart grow fonder”

Really good at catching flies and mosquitoes

Will prompt the weirdest shit as if it’s normal just to fuck with you

Will give you the meanest compliments like “I hate inbreds…not you though” because he thinks it’s charming AND funny

Randomly gives you a good shove every now and then

Eagle flies

He absolutely loves getting a rise out of you like sometimes he does something stupid just for you to scold him

Affectionally bites. At first it was a joke but now he just casually does it. He’ll grab your hand and pressed a light bite to your wrist

Gets comfortable in the weirdest positions. Even while cuddling.

Talks about your future with him way too soon.

He thinks it’s funny to randomly “propose” to you

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avonne-writes · 8 months ago

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do you think you could do #8 “Who did this to you?” From your reblog. Maybe like In the stalag when Bucky shows up and goes to give Gale a hug but Gale flinches away. Bucky is immediately worried and try’s to get Gale to spill but it doesn’t work. Blah blah blah, Bucky might see Gale interact with a guard and understands why. Idk take it your own way if you want 😅

Thank you for the prompt! 💕 Sorry for only getting to it now. I went with a different take, but I hope you like it!

8. Who did this to you?

After stumbling inside their quarters at Thorpe, Bucky tries to make his way to his bed blindly in the dark. He counts his steps to measure a distance he knows well by now, but the haze of booze makes his brain sluggish, and the numbers get all jumbled up. Nevertheless, he finds the frame of his cot, locates it with fumbling hands, and lets himself sink down on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

Except, it’s not his cot.

He lands on something simultaneously soft and bony, and gets kneed in the ribs so hard for it that he falls on his ass. Groaning, he gives in to gravity and goes limp on the floor.

"John?" Gale whispers somewhere above him. When Bucky grunts in response, one of their other roommates hisses a shut up their way. "What are you doing?"

"Sleeping." Bucky replies. He feels rather comfortable where he is. At least the room isn’t spinning. Down here, nothing wants to crawl back out of his stomach to show him exactly how much whiskey he poured down his throat to wipe their last mission from his memory.

Slim, warm hands pat at Bucky's chest, trying to locate his shoulders in the dark. When they find a good place to grip and try to pull Bucky up, Bucky turns his head and nips at Gale’s wrist.

"Come on, you big loony." Gale murmurs, completely ignoring the fact that Bucky's mouth is full of the cotton of his shirt. His teeth dig into Gale's arm. Out of curiosity, Bucky bites down harder, until Gale yanks his arm away with an annoyed huff.

"Son of a bitch." He swears under his breath, but a moment later, his hands return. They hook under Bucky's armpits to pull him up by force. "Up. On your feet, Major."

"Don’t want to." Bucky whines.

As soon as Gale gets him vertical, he starts moving to lie right back down, and finds the bed Gale has just vacated. It’s still warm from Gale’s body. He sinks into that heat with a smile, squirming until the dip Gale's body left in the mattress fits his own. Like coming home. His drunken mind imagines it would be just as comforting to climb inside Gale's body. To be one with him. Always welcome, always safe.

"All right." Gale's tired exhale brushes Bucky's ear as Gale leans over him and tugs the blanket out from under his body to drape it over him. Tucking him in like his mama would've. Or a wife.

"Should've left me on the floor." Bucky sniffs. The urge to cry makes his throat tight, but he holds it back. He’s a man, damn it.

"What kind of best friend would that make me, huh?" Gale murmurs softly. He’s so close still. His hands are on Bucky’s back and arm. He should lean in for a goodnight kiss, Bucky thinks. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

"'S your bed."

"You can borrow it tonight."

Fingers run through Bucky’s curls, a ghost of a touch, then there's nothing. Bucky turns his head into Gale's pillow because it smells like him. He falls asleep in a minute.

Morning arrives with a dull, heavy pain behind Bucky's eyes that he welcomes like an old friend. Most fellas get cranky when they're hungover, but it just makes Bucky feel alive. It seems as if fewer and fewer things do. Drinking. Singing, dancing, flirting. Gale.

Speaking of - Bucky should find him. Yes, that sounds like the perfect hangover cure. Getting teased by his best friend.

Still fully-clothed and wearing his boots, Bucky climbs out of bed - Gale's bed, he notes, sifting through his blurry memories from last night and coming up blank when he tries to explain it. He figures he might have tried to get in beside Gale, who thought it was better to just surrender his cot. Bucky ought'a thank him for not kicking him out to sleep on the floor.

He finds Gale by the small sink they all share, just finishing up with shaving. He’s stripped down to his undershirt and his hair is not yet slicked back with product but falls over his forehead in soft bangs. It makes him look younger. Pretty, even, if Bucky were being honest. He tries not to be though. Wouldn’t do him any good.

Grinning with all his charm, he walks up to Gale and leans on the wall beside him, his free hand in his pocket. "Hey, Buck."

"Morning." Gale says without looking away from the mirror, but there’s a small smile in the corner of his lips as he slides the blade over his skin.

Bucky has the strangest urge to offer to do the last few swipes for him. "Thanks for the bed."

"You’re welcome." Gale's voice is amused. Although there's a shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, he looks happy, so Bucky feels safe to joke around a bit.

When Gale rinses the blade and starts wiping his face, Bucky nudges him with his foot. In return, Gale flicks water at him, which tickles Bucky into a short laugh. For the first time this morning, Gale's blue eyes meet his and give him a playful look.

"You look like that chow they used to feed us back in Texas." There it is. The teasing.

Bucky grins. "Delicious, you mean?"

For a moment that steals Bucky's breath away, Gale just holds his gaze, but then he turns back to the mirror to comb his hair. "Not the word I'd use."

That's when Bucky notices the bruise on Gale’s forearm. Without thinking, he grabs Gale's hand and pulls it closer to get a better look at the mark. It’s circular, red and purpling in some places, about the width of a set of teeth. A bite mark. When Bucky brushes his thumb over it, Gale’s fingers twitch in his hold.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Bucky asks with a frown. His protective anger rises behind the wall of confusion in his mind. It’s a fresh bruise, can't be more than a day old. Did Gale get up to something while Bucky was at the pub yesterday?

Gale uses his free hand to hike his trousers higher up his slim waist, shifting in place, but he doesn’t move the hand Bucky's holding to examine the bruise. He just stares at it, cheeks pinking. He’s standing close enough that all Bucky can smell is his aftershave, fresh on his smooth face.

"I reckon it was one of those bed-stealing fellas around here." He drawls.

Bucky swipes his thumb over the mark again distractedly before realization hits him.

"Did I do this?" He asks, horrified. When Gale hums yes, it’s like a rock of guilt falling right on Bucky’s heart. He lets go of Gale's hand and rubs his palm over his own face. His hangover swells into a wave of nausea he swallows back down. "Shit. I'm sorry, Buck. Can’t even remember."

"It was good whiskey, huh?" Gale smiles and picks up the towel he wiped his face with earlier. When Bucky gives him an apologetic look, he swats at him with it. "It’s fine, John."

A memory hits Bucky like a bucketful of ice. Back in flight school, on one of their first longer leaves, Gale actually went home to see his Ma in Wyoming because she was bedridden with a chest cold, and they feared she might pass. She made it through, but for what good, Bucky isn't sure, because Gale rarely ever writes her and hasn’t been to Casper since.

But that one time, he visited his parents. Bucky won't forget how it went anytime soon. The first day Gale came back to base, he was sporting a fading shiner on his right cheek. Dark blue pain under pale skin. He clammed up about how he got it, but Bucky prodded, kept asking the same question, who did this to you? Until Gale confessed that he had a fight with his father. The man was drunk. But it's fine, John, Gale told him, pursing his lips. Nothing that won't heal.

Discomfort ripples through Bucky, bitter on his tongue and heavy in his heart. Gale's smiling now, unlike that day in flight school, but there are too many similarities. Bucky has to, he needs to make it better.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you." He says sincerely.

"I know." Gale nods.

Bucky bites his lip. He can’t think of anything else to make it clearer that he’s nothing like Gale's bastard of a father. There’s so little he can give. He has nothing to offer but his company. "Let me make it up to you. Come to London with me. We could both use a break. Let's go paint the town red."

The tip of Gale's pink tongue pokes out between his lips for a second as he considers it. Instinctively, Bucky's gaze drops to the motion before he looks back to Gale's eyes again. "I don't know about that."

There's a wariness in his voice that wasn’t there before. Bucky hates it. He doesn’t know what put it there, but he wants it gone. He claps a hand on Gale's elbow and gives him a friendly squeeze. "Come on. We can go look at all the sights you wanna see, then I'll take you to a pub and buy you the best ginger beer you've ever had."

Gale gives him a lopsided smile. "Is that a bet?"

Bucky smirks. "A promise." He moves to take Gale's place at the sink, but Gale doesn’t step back immediately, which puts their faces so close to each other that for a split second, Bucky imagines crossing the remaining distance. "Tell you what. We could even split the hotel costs."

A fond light shines in Gale's eyes. He steps away with a chuckle and throws the towel at Bucky. "Go wash your face, Egan."

Grinning, Bucky opens the tap and does just that. That wasn’t a no, he notes. Excitement tingles in his limbs. His blood pumps warm joy through his body with every heartbeat. He has never felt more alive than this, but he wonders if he could. And if yes... would London do the trick?

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #my writing #prompt fill

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whaleofatjme1920 · 2 years ago

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Task Force 141 with a Small/Flat Chested Reader

[Task Force 141 x F!Reader]

[Warnings: I mean, I talk about tits what more can you expect? It's pretty NSFW, so MINORS GET OUT.]

[AN: iykyk, yk? Anyways. Love the IBTC just bc I think that's cute and I'm in a mood to show this community love <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Captain John Price

I think he has a slight size kink, not too big but small tits play into it. Yes ofc he loves all tits but small tits just look so lovely to him. If you wear any bras or whatever, he's staring for the outline. The same thing if you don't wear anything, he might catch a glimpse of your nipples poking through and he likes that. Won't outright say it though.

Loves whenever you wear low necklines, like v necks, scoops, things that show off your chest.

If you wear long necklaces that dip in between? ohohoh. He can't help but stare and whisper the dirtiest things in your ear.

I think he really liked to hug you from behind and playfully rub his hands upwards from your stomach to your chest.

Isn't it cute how his whole hand can envelop them? He really likes to grope you. Especially laying in bed and he spoons you, hands come up? Boom, gotta grab the titty.

Absolutely feral over them. Any insecurities get washed away by how much he wants to touch you and how he compliments you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I feel like he's a huge thigh guy but your tits are pretty hot to him. Thinks they're super elegant with the way they fit in certain clothes.

He stares. He cannot stop staring. He's feel his face heat whenever you catch him and he covers it in the dorkiest ways possible.

Idk I feel like he's really,,,, silly? With the way he loves your tits. Can't really explain it but just know he's kinda silly.

I think he loves to rest his head on your chest and take naps. But he'll also start kissing just to get you flustered.

He gets pretty sad if you get sad or feel any self doubt over your tits. He really loves how they fit you and how they look once clothes come off.

He has a special love for whenever you wear cute bras or bralettes, whatever makes you happiest I guarantee he's in love with.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

He's super immature about the way he loves your tits. Like, wolf whistles whenever you wear something a little more revealing, makes raunchy comments, it's gotta make you bashful because he thinks that's cute.

Love love loves to suck on your nipples. Like, I don't know he strikes me as a strong titty guy and small tits make him feral.

He'll bite gently because his bitemarks on your tits make him blush. Big on squeezing and generally worshipping that part of your body. And like Gaz, he just LOVES to stare.

Though I think he doesn't actually like the long necklaces? And it's not that he doesn't like that but rather he thinks they detract from your chest just a bit.

He's the world's best hype man. Feeling insecure? Societal standards telling you that you need more? No worries, he's gonna squash all of that in a heartbeat.

You ever see that one vine that was like, 'take them titties out bc I'm trying to see them?' He's,,, the embodiment of that. Good luck ever wearing a shirt for more than a few hours around him when you're relaxing together at home.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

yeah idk about you guys but I think Ghost has HUGE size kink. And to be fair, he kinda looms over everyone but your small tits really put his size kink into high gear.

He's always going to be cupping, rubbing and sucking your tits or at least dreaming about the moment he can again. Loves having you underneath him so he can watch your chest rise and fall, see every part of you but focus on your nipples especially.

He likes how you look in outfits as well, they accentuate your body and make you look gorgeous to him. Also a big fan of necklines that go low. But he also enjoys knowing he's the only man who can touch you there.

Loves when you lay on top of him to cuddle. Something about your chests pressed together is intimate and romantic to him? He wouldn't call it romantic, more like relaxing. He likes physical touch but it takes a while to get there.

Thinks aesthetically, that you're gorgeous. I think he sketches in his spare time, I can't actually remember if that was,,, confirmed or not? maybe I'm hallucinating but he sketches in his spare time and he's drawn your chest before.

He thinks you're beautiful. No part of you needs to change or bend to societal pressures. Insecurity tends to melt away when you're with him because he just... gets you. Knows what to say and how to say it in such a way that it's comforting and sweet.

#minors dni #captain john price x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #task force 141 x reader

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muqingfx · 7 months ago

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Heyyyy

Idk why I'm sharing this with you specifically but...

Can you imagine a scenario where mu qing gets cursed where he gets like super cold and after a certain amount of time will turn to ice (think of frozen) but he'll survive if he warms up. Aka fengqing cuddles ♥️♥️

gonna write a short drabble

Metal meets rotten flesh as Mu Qing flings his zhanmadao at the infernal ghost.

"Got you," Mu Qing whispers under his breath. He's fatigued after endless pursuits and perpetual clashes; the ribbon that usually holds his dark hair in place has fallen off, resulting in messy strands carpeting his head and obscuring his line of vision. His breathing is rough and robes tattered, but finally, finally, he has the damn ghost beneath him, shuddering and seething under his blade.

Mu Qing's eyes widen as he's propelled meters back by a gush of frigid wind that chills his godly skin. Ah, nevermind. He spoke too soon. When has it ever been easy?

His precious zhanmadao is pulled away from his grip, flying off and plummeting to the ground with a loud thud. Although Mu Qing had tried to keep his eyes on the ghost, the pest had somehow evaded his vigilance. From behind him, Mu Qing hears footsteps of not one, but at least a hundred creatures closing in on him. His head rivots to look behind and there's a whole damn army of ghosts.

"Shit," Mu Qing curses. He takes in his wearied state and distant saber. "Shit, shit," he curses some more. The little nuisances jump around, squealing and yelling as they make their way to Mu Qing.

Mu Qing, a martial god. What the hell? He's a martial god, dammit. Who do these little shits think they are?

He lifts his arm and creates a swirl of spiritual energy on his palm, the golden orb illuminating the dark sky. He thrusts his hand forward, watching gleefully as the little shits scream in agony. To finish it off, Mu Qing scurries to retrieve his zhanmadao and slices through multiple ghosts at once. The rest is suspiciously uncomplicated, considering the hassle he had to go through to get here, and the ghosts are all eliminated in moments.

The silence is deafening after Mu Qing stamps out the last one, excluding the soft hoots of an owl. But then Mu Qing realizes something fairly unusual: he's really fucking cold.

"What the fuck are you wearing, nutcase?" Feng Xin snorts out a laughter as soon as Mu Qing walks into his work chambers. Through the spritual array, they had decided on a meeting regarding the Southern region's welfare.

"Shut up," Mu Qing hisses, "I'm cold."

"Yeah? It's the middle of summer."

"Get to business, Ju Yang. Where are the reports?" He fixes the cloth around his neck. It's been two days since his encounter with the army of ghosts, and each hour since then felt like his body heat was being sucked out of him. "And get me some hot tea."

Feng Xin glares at him but says nothing, reaching for the unorganized scrolls on his worktop. He hands them over to Mu Qing, who accepts it with shaking hands. When Feng Xin's gaze lingers a second too long, Mu Qing swats at his face with the scrolls.

"Motherfucker," Feng Xin mutters, but still has decency to invite Mu Qing to sit down on his divan. "It's tranquil. For now."

Mu Qing nods. "Villages are undisturbed. Temples aren't being messed with. Ghosts are out of sight. Prayers are not too bothersome." He shuffles the scrolls. "Is that all?”

Offering a hum of confirmation, Feng Xin lays out the teapot and cups on the table. The warm steam from the served tea has Mu Qing resisting the urge to hover his hands over the spout. He doesn’t. Obviously.

“Have you been on any missions recently?” Feng Xin asks around a mouthful of wafers.

“What? That’s none of your concern. Yes. A few days ago. Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Feng Xin swallows down his food quickly. “You did? How did it go?”

“Stop prying. It went fine.” He closes his eyes and sips his tea, indulging in it’s heat.

A stupid pout forms on Feng Xin’s face. “I haven’t been on a mission in ages—”

“I do not care.”

“—so I’ve been cooped up in here, answering prayers.”

Mu Qing sets his half-empty teacup down and glares at the oaf sitting in front of him. “Why is it so cold in here?”

Said oaf’s eyebrows scrunch into a frown. “Cold? Mu Qing, it’s fucking sweltering. Are you sick?”

“I don’t get sick.”

“Stubborn prick. You’re wearing like, four robes.”

Instantly, Mu Qing’s hands raised up to clutch at his layers of clothing. “Judging bitch.”

But Feng Xin doesn’t get riled up and start yelling and cursing like he usually would. His brows draw in together as if he were concerned, and his eyes rake over the length of Mu Qing’s figure. “Are you cursed? Just what type of ghost did you fight?”

“I’m not cursed.” He’s not. Yes, his symptoms started, strangely, after his confrontation with the ghost. So what? Coincidences happen. And he’s just cold. That's literally it.

“Mu Qing.” Feng Xin’s own tone leaves no room for argument. Both official are no less obstinate than the other.

“I’m not cursed! The ghost I fought with used the element of snow. There. Happy? Cretin.”

Feng Xin’s jaw clenches, an impatient glint in his eyes. “Snow? You’re not usually this fucking stupid, Mu Qing.”

Mu Qing jumps to his feet, already grabbing his zhanmadao from his side. “What did you just say?”

“Fucking hell, Mu Qing!” Feng Xin holds his hand up and effectively stops Mu Qing from swinging his saber. “Where the fuck was your head when Ling Wen was explaining this shit?”

“What…”

“She clearly described a savage ghost who could fucking freeze a heavenly official to death.”

Mu Qing pauses. In the back of his head, he indistinctly remembers a warning from Ling Wen.

“Fuck,” Feng Xin cusses, seemingly more stressed than Mu Qing’s himself. “Fucking fuck.”

He grasps Mu Qing’s hand—and then flinches back. “You’re a fucking icicle! Come here.” Carefully, Feng Xin pulls Mu Qing closer to his body, coercing him into a hug. Brawny arms wrap around Mu Qing’s torso and a palm pushes Mu Qing’s face into a warm shoulder,

He sighs in relief when he feels the temperature shoot up.

“Still cold?” Feng Xin mutters right into his ear and Mu Qing fucking shivers.

“What do you think? Moron.”

“Don’t be a bitch or I’ll just let you fucking die.”

“Then let me.”

“I need to shut that mouth of yours.”

Mu Qing tears himself away, face flaming. “I’m fine now.” He turns and stomps away, determined to go elsewhere.

Feng Xin doesn’t let him though, snatching his arm and tugging him hard so Mu Qing’s back slams against a firm chest.

"Like fuck you are."

"Let me go." Mu Qing struggles against Feng Xin's vice grip, though his efforts as futile as the bigger man deftly hauls him around the Nan Yang Palace and into his bedchambers.

Feng Xin's bedchambers.

He--considerably gently--tosses Mu Qing onto the soft duvet and throws a sizeable quilt at him. "Get comfy, general."

Mu Qing glowers, though it's half-hearted. But his fury fades into alarm as Feng Xin joins him on the bed.

"What the--what the fuck are you doing?!" he yelps, horrified. He scrambles away, making space between the two bodies.

And once again, Feng Xin effortlessly pulls him back under the quilt. "Shut up and stay still."

Mu Qing freezes, letting Feng Xin maneuver him around as if he were a doll.

"Warm up, fucker." Feng Xin pats both of Mu Qing's cheeks, trying to give it some colour.

"Stop it," Mu Qing hisses. Feng Xin encircles his limbs around Mu Qing's middle, and Mu Qing can only exhale as he lets him.

He lets Feng Xin nuzzle his face into the curve of Mu Qing's neck.

He lets Feng Xin's fingers draw slow, soothing circles on his palm.

He let's Feng Xin warm him until he's a ball of fire, melting away his frosty fraud exterior.

#drabbles #tgcf drabbles #fengqing #is it a #fanfic #??#short fic #tgcf #asks #my writing #anon...im sorry if i didnt do this right😭😭😭#so many typos ugh

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jujutsukgojo · 1 year ago

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The Fourth Leg

chrollo lucilfer x reader

Summary: No matter how fast you ran, the Spider's leg cannot get far. No matter how long you hid, you were bound to be found, dear number four. WARNING: toxic relationships, mentions of murder and torture, bullying, murder plot, smut, idk what else? yandere? 18+ Smut scene is based on Fear (1996). I saw it and it crept up on me Chapter two

You’ll always be able spot the blond haired boy from a mile away. His blond locks are longer now, and his eyes are colder. They aren’t the same light grey they used to be when he was around. A small smile comes across your face when you look to see what your boy is wearing: his traditional Kurta attire.

When the massacre happened and you had run into Sheila, she informed you of everything there was to know about the Kurta. So, while he was housed by you, you made those clothes for him. And now that he’s a little older, he still wears the clothes you send him.

Kurapika left home to get his hunter’s license. He was determined and able. Just like you shaped him to be. Alas, there is something there that you once again failed to save. Just like before, like always.

That rageful bloodlust that confuses the host for justice and vengeance when it is neither one. It is darkness that lurks into them and finally settles into their souls.

He is falling for the same trick as you and your dearest friends had. They entered a place and left every smidge of hope they had. What was supposed to be for justice, protection, and Sarasa, resulted in a numbness that is too disgusting to handle. It’s too brutal and vile. Bloody without a thought of washing their hands with repentance.

No matter, the tightness of your chest has you think of one thing: is it too late to save Kurapika?

You go back inside and wash the dishes that you dirtied from cooking his favorites. He had let you know he was coming. It is such a rarity to even be able to contact Kurapika. He’s just so busy lately. That, and he acts like he has never worked a phone before in his life. The little shit.

Thunder and lightning strike, shaking the ground beneath you. A slight rumble under your bare feet. You look out the window again and see a ghost from your past. Tall, silver haired, and just as beefy as before: Silva Zodlyck. You haven’t seen him since he killed you.

If he spots you, it will be a brawl. Another side of you that you have buried, not exorcised, all these years are calling out for his blood. To wreak havoc once more and see the fear in his eyes again. The bad thing about that is, is that you are a non combatant. An exorcist, a priestess of sorts. Not at all suited for the front lines. You can defend yourself and fight, but not on the level of him or the others.

Hell, maybe not even Kurapika now, and you wiped that boy’s tears and snot.

What you can do now is remain low. As much as you want to see that little brat and talk to him, to find out how he’s been, to fuss over him and see if he’s eaten yet, right now you can’t even consider that. Not when he is close to finding out. Besides, he can take care of himself for a bit. As it appears, Silva isn’t after him.

Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on me, trust in me.

Your breath hitches. That smooth voice is in your head. One you haven’t heard of in years. With all the power inside, you tried to push it out. To wipe their faces from your memories.

You see the trash can and can only think of Little. Oh, how you tortured that boy. Putting him in trashcans and sitting on the lids and gave him noogies. Little would always retaliate but had to be held back when that one showed up to protect you. God, why are you thinking of this? There is a beast of a man who almost ended you and your dumbass is reminiscing of your bullying days.

Had you not pulled that one trick up your sleeve, you truly would have died by the hands of Zoldyck. It has been years since you’ve fought seriously. You trained Kurapika, but you never went full throttle. Nothing but rust is on your nen and hand-to-hand combat.

Just sit back, don’t hide your presence or anything. That's what he’s looking for. Any kind of blip in the atmosphere. Hell, he may not even remember you!

_____________

You know what you have to do. There is no hope here. No compassion for others at all. The Kurta clan, Sarasa, you, no one. It is now or never.

You jump at the bolder of a man. Crosses paint themselves on your palms as a holy prayer escapes your lips. Your veins line with the brightest blue and the rubble around you lift off the ground from your aura. Directly, your hands clasp onto Silva’s. He looks confused and the most surprising of all, scared.

He lets go of his hatsu. In the back, there is a bloody scream. A roar that a lion can never compare itself to. A bloodlust from the roar that made Silva’s eyes widen. It is too late, the hatsu hit you straight on. Two balls of electricity and power collide with your fragile body.

When you came to, by pure nen, you could vaguely see your dearest. His eyes watery, voice hoarse, blood trinkling on his face. Silva is not in sight, not a single thing left behind. Did he kill him?

“No, no, no, damn it! Fuck!” He shakes you ever so slightly as you lay in his arms. “Heal yourself, please...”

You have to leave. He has no regard for you or anyone but himself. Chrollo, the boy who is only a few years older than you, yet you still bullied him, is gone. He didn’t care that you’re a non combatant. He was willing to sacrifice your life and his for his ego.

He only wants your ability, positively. Chrollo is gone. It is only the spider left. You have always hated spiders anyway.

________________

Nah, Silva remembers you. He almost died too. How can he forget that he was sent to kill the man responsible for the annihilation of an entire clan? It's hard to forget a case like that considering the brutality of the deaths.

And if Kurapika finds out that you are Number Four, the lost spider, he’ll lose it. He'll demand to see the tattoo, no doubt. You can’t show him that. Especially since you lost a bet with Machi and Paku and put it on a place that he just has no business looking at.

As long as you remain calm and blend in, no one will notice. If Kurapika comes in with Silva, you’ll leave before. Pretend that you are out of town or something. Actually, that’s a good idea. You quickly write a note telling your boy that you had to rush out and that you’d call him later. To help himself to the food and make sure to rest.

There is another rumble under your feet. It feels different. The screams are louder, the air more ominous by the second. What is this? It touches you like a familiar hand. Something cold and clammy. Is that...Nobunaga?

Don't panic, don’t panic. It's been years since you faked your death and abandoned them. They probably don’t remember you, right?

Nah, you pantsed Nobunaga in the middle of a dubbing. He was wearing the ranger’s underwear. He always vowed to get revenge, but he was stopped by Chrollo, of course. You’ve known these people for years and fought with them side by side. You saved him several times and healed him. He will remember you.

There is a deathly silence. Your skin raises goosebumps all over. You can feel him. Your old friend knows or is at least trying to figure out what’s going on. You take a deep breath and remain calm. It has always been easy to trick him. How many times did you do such a thing and lead him to embarrassing situations? And how many times did Chrollo get you out? Every. Single. Time.

You sure were spoiled rotten by Chrollo in every way. It drove people nuts. When you were dropped off in Meteor City at the age of five, you were a terror due to pain and heartbreak. There was only so much a child could take and you weren’t able to express it properly.

The priest held onto patience as much as he could, but no one could ever hold a candle to Chrollo’s patience. It is as if he is a saint. You'd bite, kick, and talk over him. When they dubbed the tapes, you would always turn the tv off just because it wasn’t what you wanted to watch. Uvogin was so close to beating you so many times, but Chrollo intervened and explained to them what empathy was.

However, he went overboard and spoiled you rotten. In the Troupe you got part of Chrollo’s shares including what was actually yours. He made sure that you were the most taken care of out of them all. He always helped you up and protected you the most. You weren’t able to go on a mission by yourself and had to have at least two people with you, just like him.

He always held a soft spot for you, you think. Even before you shared special moments. Until he stopped caring and went somewhere where you can’t follow.

Now that you have abandoned the Spider, Lord only knows what’ll happen. Will he spare you for old time’s sake? Or will Feitan, also known as “Little”, finally get his revenge because of the trash cans?

Or Machi’s cut up clothes, and Paku’s shaved head, or Uvo’s wedgies and bites, Phinks’s eyebrows that never grew back, Shalnark’s broken nose and the tack in his sho-

Oof, you’re going to die. And that was all done when you were like, six? There were plenty more years that you were just onery. Chrollo...that poor guy. The hell he went through before and after the Troupe...the patience of a saint.

Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled, rotten.

You were ungoverned and got away with things that the rest couldn’t. But this, rejecting the Spider, rejecting him, sheltering the last Kurta descendant...you’ll die.

Or be in a lot of pain.

Suddenly, you feel a sharpness crawling up your arm. They're coming. Another rumble occurs right when you back away from the sink. In the distance is a large body flying in the air with a trail of red following it. What?

With a gross thud that you swear everyone heard, lands Silva. Beaten, bloody, gone.

Well, there goes that problem. On to the next, which is Nobunaga. You're caught in his en somehow. Or whatever the hell that's called. Anyway, never did you think he’d grow and be able to stretch it out this far.

You start to leave calmly so he doesn’t suspect anything. Just a calm person that his en is confusing for someone else! Finally, you hear the even more terrible commotion. You know Kurapika is okay if the rumors of the powerful chain user are true. And he seemed to have a lot of help. Once you shake the Nobunaga off, you’ll make your way to Pika.

He doesn’t know that in your past you were one of the Spider’s legs. The fourth one, to be exact. The one who died by the hands of Silva Zoldyck, years ago. Soon after the Kurta’s extinction and after the fight with the Spider’s leader, the devil himself.

You lock the backdoor and head to the woods where there is a safe spot that Kurapika used to train. As you pass by the branches and the shady trees, you are blinded by the harsh memories of your dear friend, Sarasa. She and the Troupe are a few years older than you. They spent more time with her than you did but the memories of her, those precious moments that you wanted to last for years to come, that innocence, was stripped from you. You hold onto the specks of what was left of your childhood, before the truth of hell appeared.

A trash bag, a child inside, the Troupe, and Chrollo who faced it first and has never recovered.

You weren’t there to find her. It was broken down to you because of your youth and denial, you were staunch in the belief that it was a lie and that she was alive. The only one who had patience for you was Chrollo. The tantrums were the tipping point to the realization that she had suffered in her last moments.

When it hit you, he held you as you remained in shock. He catered to your every whim to fill in the shoes of the missing people in your life. And you left him.

How could you not? He left you first, abandoned you for a darkness that you couldn’t shine a light through. Chrollo believed that he was a messiah to the city and to his friends. They follow blindly when you can’t. You are a thief, not a heartless killer. The Kurta didn’t deserve their fate.

You push past a couple of thick bushes to be startled.

“Come here, now.” His voice is as smooth as you remember, just a little deeper now and more commanding. Although you know him and his quirks, the atmosphere is off. A creepy feeling of nothing in the air. You can’t sense him of his anger at all. Only a chill and a hair-raising sensation that doesn’t match anyone you know. Perhaps, this is fear.

You walk to him as you spot him in a clearing. “Chrollie.”

“A dead spider, huh.” He stands tall but casually with his hands in his pockets. His hair is slicked back and the tattoo on his forehead is more prominent. He’s shirtless and wears an odd coat. His style choice is different now than it was back then. Before, he would throw on normal Meteor City clothing, which consisted of whatever was around. Looking back, his favorite was a white shirt and plain black jeans. Now, he looks like he wears designer.

“Here I thought that you were squashed,” he looks you up and down, eyes narrowing. You feel vulnerable under his gaze. “All along you were here. Raising a devil that killed two of your own.”

You know about Uvogin and Pakunoda. Kurapika felt so guilty, after the events he vented to you. He sounded as young as he did when you took him in. Of course, you were hurt and cried when Kurapika wasn't looking. You mourned them as anyone would.

“I know about that-”

“And you still didn’t come back?” Chrollo is shaking, desperate to calm down. His fists are clenched so hard, you think they’ll bleed. This, you think, is the most anger he's ever shown. And it's toward you. “Could I? You would’ve killed me!”

“I would have accepted you with open arms, Number Four.” Would have.

Number Four. He didn’t even call you by your real name. “No, you would react just as badly as you are now.”

“Oh, my darling spider, you have no idea. All you had to do is trust me.” He shakes his head in disappointment.

_____________

“I’m not joining, Chrollie. I’m not calling you Boss, either.” You were disappointed that they actually went through with this. Years ago, you came across their little meeting. Chrollie looked at you and asked if you wanted to join but you called them all stupid.

“Why not? I'm the leader.” You roll your eyes. “No, you’re a theater nerd.”

You jump and sit on the desk. He comes up to you, only inches apart. Chrollie gently cradles your face. “That part of me is gone, darling.”

“Darling? Pretending to be all manly now? A gentleman? That's what 'darling' reminds me of. Those books you read.” You acknowledge that he’s grown up. He broader and stronger. His hands no longer smooth but are calloused and bigger than your own.

He erases how gentle he was caressing your face and replaces it with a commanding and firm touch on your cheeks. “Join me.”

“No.” You answer as well as you can with your cheeks squished. Suddenly, his lips touch yours. It is your first kiss. It sends shocks to your special place. He parts from you. Embarrassingly, you follow in his direction.

Quickly, you snap out of the trance of your first kiss. You shake your head in defiance. “I want to travel! I want to get out of this city and experience the highs. I've already touched the lows. I don’t want to get deeper.”

"You think we’re lower than you?” There’s an edge in his tone. One that tells you to tread carefully. However, you’re not shy when it comes to Chrollie.

“No. But I worry that you will be.” He tilts his head and asks, “Because you think I can’t take you to the there?”

He grabs your hand that is so much larger than yours. It's weird now. You are used to him leading you places but now you just realize the difference between you two. He’s...a man now. It’s all so new. You'll never admit that he makes you feel some type of way.

“Let me show you.”

Just like in the movies, you see a roller coaster for the first time. There are lights everywhere and smiling and laughing people. And not at you! Just the joys of life without worrying where the next meal is coming from. You spot the balloons in various animal shapes and see the fluffy candy. The pretzels are soft, and the fried dough the size of your head is to die for. You have never witnessed such freedom. The last time you have seen an inkling of joy was when you were a child and Chrollie was dubbing tapes.

The two of you get on the back of the ride. You cling onto his arm. “Scared?”

“No!” In truth, you were. Never in your life did you ever see one of these in person. Only on the videos Chrollo would pick up. It showed the ride going fast and high with screaming people. There were twists and sharp turns on the tape. And now, you get to be one of those people to experience it.

The ride starts. He wraps his right arm around you. The roller coaster shoots out causing you to flinch.

“I got you, trust me.” You curl into him as the ride takes a sharp turn. Right after it happened, you feel tracing between your legs. You look down and see Chrollie’s fingers rubbing against you.

It's...feeling really good. Your breaths become quicker as his fingers do figure eights through your underwear. You let out a little shriek when he pulls them down. Now, there’s nothing blocking him from you. The ride takes a sudden left.

You don’t know how it happened, how it led to this. What exactly did you say to him that incited him to massage your bud and insert a single finger inside you. Slowly coaxing moans that blend in with the screaming of everyone else. Never have you been so grateful for that. He places a kiss on your head. “Join me, swear to me.”

Another finger enters you. His palm rubs and presses against you. How are his fingers so long? Why are they bigger than yours and feel so much better?

You start to really moan as he goes faster. You lift up slightly to follow his motions with your hips. Chrollie bites and sucks on the spot under your ear. The ride starts to go up.

“Holy sh-oh God...” You breathily cry. He growls in your ear at the sound. “I’ll take you there, to the highs. So high you’ll never see the ground.”

You grab his wrist and move furiously, spreading your legs a little more to give him as much room as possible. You want more, need more. There is a feeling there that is about to pop. One that he can take.

“Swear to me.” You watch as the stars get closer. People make noises of excitement different than yours, but it blends. “Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no! I trust you!” You grab onto anything in reach as you give up trying to keep up with him. He's cradling you, his dominant hand relentless and lips sinful. A goose bump raising feeling starts. It's cold and is making you shake even more. Chrollo feels it too.

He's smiling when you gasp and your head goes back.

Everything is happening at once. Two different sensations, both caused by the boss, by Chrollo Lucilfer. And he knows it, he’s waited for it.

“Swear to me, trust me!” You grab his leg and squeeze it. “Let me take you there.” He whispers in your ear.

As the ride reaches the peak, so do you. Loudly, you swear to him. To the spider and his name. His hands and whatever energy is rushing to you, cause your eyes to go back. The squelching sound is loud, but your euphoric moans of his name are louder.

From what you gather in this state, the ride was supposed to stop. Supposed to stay on the rails rather than bounce a little. You didn't even notice that your aura was the cause for the ride's disruption.

When your high leaves you, you’re in a daze and glowing. He withdraws himself and sucks on his fingers. You gasp at the sight. It is pornographic, the hungry look in his eyes. The grey that you have known for years has become so dark and just by a lick. He grabs your hand gently and leads you away to finish what he started. Your legs shake along the way and for the rest of the night when the two of you are satisfied. The way he licked and sucked and swirled his tongue on the most delicate of places and thrusted himself inside had him gain the scratches on his back.

The two of you created a memory that neither of you would ever forget.

It wasn’t until you learn about the nodes do you hold a slight bitterness towards him. He caused yours to open wide because of this. Your aura nodes and a nen pact that binds you together. For the Spider.

____________

You swallow at the memory and plenty more of similar situations with your former boss. For years you trusted him fully. But somewhere along the way, he had lost it. “Chrollie, please understand. I just didn’t agree with it anymore.”

“Really?” He scoffs. He knows you are hiding the words to describe how it really was, how it is. You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“When you killed that entire clan...tortured them, mutilated them...I couldn’t do it anymore. You wouldn’t listen to me. You only thought of yourself.”

“Excuse me?” His voice is low, and his eyebrows are raised. He's gotten so intimidating now. Before, he was someone you pushed over even when he was your boss. It has always been that way. You admit, you are spoiled. Undisciplined and rebellious to the Spider.

To Chrollo Lucilfer.

If you are going to die today, you are leaving with giving him a piece of your mind. A dose of reality that he no longer has.

“You completely lost yourself. How can you make dumb decisions like that?”

“Their eyes gave Meteor City a profit that helped millions. I did it for our city.” You shake your head no. “No, you did it for yourself. As some kind of sick powerplay! And everyone follows you blindly, and to do it without a thought. You guys kill for no reason. It didn’t use to be that way.”

Your lip wobbles at the memory of that day. You had gone up to Chrollo and went against the mission. It was stupid to you. It didn’t make any sense. They were going to kill these people because he wanted their eyes? You understand that he is greedy and increasingly vicious. But not cruel, not before the end.

He didn’t yell at you, but he did put you in your place with a stern yet calm voice. It was scary. Just as scary as he is now. You still couldn’t do it though. The thought of it made you cry.

So, he commanded you to keep watch and capture any stragglers. There were none. You ran away from the screams and ran into a boy with blond hair and blue clothing. A Kurta. The last one, to be exact. You begged him not to go over there. Afraid of his fate or him seeing the gruesome crime.

The Troupe were not there, only corpses. Eyes gouged out, bruises and bloody. Even the children. Lucilfer had become the devil himself.

You, without thought, took the boy in. You found a little village not too far away and raised him in a cottage. Unfortunately, you weren’t there every single day because of your “job”. One he knew nothing about.

Until your last day. You and Chrollo had been walking in Meteor City when Silva Zoldyck came. Someone called for him to eliminate the Troupe. Your dearest didn’t care that you aren’t really suited for fighting. Especially a Zoldyck.

That was your chance! So, when Silva had hit you with his Hatsu, you hid inside your energy and faked your death. It looked so real, felt like it too. It took a lot of healing and purifying to survive.

You had to do it. Your friends had lost their way. You couldn’t go along with it anymore.

“You left.” You whimper.

“Are you kidding me? I believe the one who abandoned the Spider, your friends, me, is you. My spoiled little brat .” He takes a few steps closer to your standing frame.

“You went to a place where I couldn’t follow. It was no longer about finding Sarasa’s killers or protecting the city. The Spider turned evil. I knew it was happening but I didn’t face it until years later when you committed a pointless massacre.” He ignored you and talked over you.

“You swore. And here I find you healthy, alive. While we are dying. We needed you and you left!” That ended with a powerful yell.

“You didn’t care about me either. I was no match for Silva yet you were willing to sacrifice me. You went to a place I just couldn’t -can’t- follow.”

A tear drips down your face. His face is furious and slicked back hair is coming undone by him running his hand through it. He stops when he sees your tear. Instinct takes over and he wipes it.

“Uvo, Paku, Shalnark, Korotopi. All gone and you could have stopped it. I was cursed by that boy to never talk to the Troupe again. We had to find an exorcist in Greed Island of all places because you decided we were trash.” His voice deceptively hushed and smooth. You shake your head no.

“Not trash. Just bad leadership.”

Chrollo’s eyes widen. This is the first time anyone has insulted his leadership. He immediately pulls your hair. You yelp and try to get out of his hold.

“And yet you do not complain of the riches I gave your greedy ass.” He growls.

“You are a profitable leader. A good provider. An excellent one. I hadn’t a need or want in the world,”

You struggle to get out of his grip. It loosens as you speak. “But you aren’t a true leader. A true one would never endanger his people like you have. Never would view them as replaceable.”

He tosses you on the ground. You accidentally land on your wrist. Chrollo paces back and forth. “Replaceable? Bad leader-ha! Oh, love you are something.”

He grabs your arms roughly. You try to yank your arm out of his grasp. “You’ve already replaced me!”

Chrollo shakes his head no. “I could never.”

“I’m sorry, Chrollie. I just-you-,” You take a deep breath. “Everything went downhill. We stopped looking for the killers like you promised. We weren’t Robin Hood anymore, either. Remember that story you read me? Take from the rich and give to the poor?”

“I remember.”

“It wasn’t that anymore. What was left was coldness and blood. And a boy whose life and childhood were taken from him. Just like ours. It wasn’t fair.”

“We support and provide for our home, not some random people.”

Frustrated, you retort, “You like to listen to the sound of your own voice too much. That's why you don’t listen! You don’t realize actions have consequences until shit like Uvo and Paku happen.”

He raises his hand. You flinch to brace for it. This is the first time he will strike you.

Time is frozen as you wait for the pain. You open your eyes and see what’s the hold up. Chrollo stands frozen with his hand still in the air still. His face is no longer hardened, but shocked. His mouth is slightly open and eyes have widened. He stares at his open palm as if it had a mind of its own, and he couldn't believe it.

Then he clears up once again to return to his previous deadly expression. Rather than striking you on your face, he lands his hand on your ass. You yelp at the impact.

“ Ow!” You rub the cheek he hit. “Why? Of all things?” Like him hitting your ass was supposed to be better than your face? It's demeaning!

He grabs your face with one hand and kisses you harshly, passionately. A confession, a return. Stupidly, you get lost in him like always.

_______

“No! You play this instead.”

“But I want to dub Cleanup Rangers...” Chrollo rubs his arm as he looks down at the nine year old. You were dropped off at the front doorstep of the church about a couple of years ago. Ever since then you’ve been a little terror. Always picking on people, on the priest, the entire city.

You are a tiny bully pushing everyone around because you’re hurt. Only Sarasa could fully calm you. While everyone else just visited the church from time to time, you were a child that had to live in it because no one liked you. You never got a nanny or substitute siblings. All you had was yourself and a priest who was often at his wits end. You had to follow him around and practice his teachings and study them. You were often times bored and thus angry at everything.

Sarasa was a God send in his eyes and yours. Chrollo was someone who tried to follow in Sarasa’s footsteps with you but lacked the ability to tell you no. He was a patient and caring boy, but one you walk over.

“I don’t care! This one!” You stomp your feet.

“Don’t let her push you around like that, Chrollo.” Uvogin recently hit a growth spurt, so he towered over you two completely.

“No! What I say goes. This one!” You show Uvogin the tape. “Do you even know what’s on it?”

“No. But I want to see.”

Chrollo hums and places the tape inside. It turns out, it was blank. You pouted as Uvogin teased you. His smile is wide and practically glows. The laugh is boisterous and bounces off the walls. Immediately, you hit him in his most sensitive spot, causing him to buckle and groan.

You scream at the top of your lungs. “Stop laughing at me!”

Laughter and a smile like that remind you too much of your parent when they dropped you off in this God forsaken, dirty, and polluted place. You hate it. “It’s okay. Here, we’ll do the Clean up Rangers and you can help if you want!”

Chrollo took out the blank tape and put it aside. He picked you up and placed you on the desk closest to him. Uvo hisses and glares at you. You frown and stick out your tongue.

“Listen, you can play the-”

“No. I'm scared of that.” He knows good and damn well you don’t listen. He looks at you confused until he deduces the problem. “Stage fright?”

Confused, you ask, “What’s that?”

Uvogin groans in the background with every dirty word he can muster. He curses Chrollo for being so gentle with you and a “pushover”. You quickly tell him to shut up or you’ll hurt him even worse.

“It’s when you get scared to talk in front of a bunch of people.” You sat in front of him and nodded. “Okay, how about you have a front row seat then! Make sure you cheer us on, alright?”

You're still pouting. He rubs your cheek. You want to play with the rest of them too! They never let you play normal things. He hugs you and rubs your back to console you.

“Trust me. It'll be fun!”

___________

You wrap your arms around his neck, gently tugging at his hair. What was a proclamation of dominance, turned into an embrace of passion. You part from him slightly. You rub his chest and ask, “Why did you lose your way? Killing all of those people?”

“Why did you stop trusting me?”

“You are willing to sacrifice everyone, even me.” That day with Silva Zoldyck was proof of your accusation, of your observation. He sucks on your neck with the intent of a mark. You give him a gasp. Slightly muffled, “Why do you doubt me? Do you honestly think I would have? You stopped trusting me.”

He nibbles on your ear. You try to pull away before you are totally caught in him. “The Kurta-”

“Are responsible for Sarasa’s death and for some of the trafficking of children. Getting rid of them was necessary. Do you understand?” He continues to kiss down your neck, making sure to suck on the best places. He holds you a little closer.

You want to believe there was a deeper reason for the extermination of the Kurta. “You barely remember it, so it can’t be true. Hell, how can I believe you when you don’t care about anyone?” He slaps your ass again. You are this close to smacking the shit out of him. You rub your bum in hopes to stop the stinging.

“Stop that! That’s not funny!” You pull away to see an indifferent face for a split second. Chrollo grabs the back of your hair and pulls you in once again. His personality flips like a switch. The sweetness is gone and back is the bloodlust and anger. Honestly, it never left. It was just hidden to trick you. He's a good actor like that.

____________

“What are you guys doing?” Phinks groans at the sight of you. Recently, he had to pull Feitan out of the trashcan again. Next to him is Feitan saying words in his native tongue that would have made a sailor blush. You blow a kiss to them both just to antagonize them.

“Enough, she’s part of the Spider now.” Chrollo, right on his forehead, has a cross tattoo that kind of resembles a web. You don't know where he got it done at.

“Her? What can she do?” Machi crosses her arms. You always wondered if she liked Chrollie. If she knew what the two of you did last night, she’d scream.

You’re still a little sore and flustered. But happy and satisfied. Never have you felt so good. At first it was so sweet and dare you say, loving. Then as the night went on it became animalistic.

Rather than sit around him, waiting to hang on to his every word, you sit next to him, chomping on some chips you found. You hear some groans and mumbles about how you are and how you’re going to get away with everything. Again.

You stick your tongue out and say, “That’s why I ain’t sharing...bitch ass.” Phinks crosses his arms. “Damn it...”

“Enough,” He stares down at you. “Like I said, she is a leg. And an exorcist.”

You feel his eyes on you again. You look up to see his eyes. “The fourth leg.”

________

“You are coming home, now.” He drags you by the back of your neck.

“Wait, stop!”

“Shut the ever living fuck up.” He squeezes you harder. Wasn't he just loving on you like two seconds ago? You have always wondered if he was all there. He seemed genuine when he was a kid but seeing the man he's become, you may never know.

“Hold on! You said the Kurta killed Sarasa. How do you know?”

“Sheila told us.”

You see the rest of the legs. They look unbothered until they see you. Shock is painted on their faces so vibrantly.

“I thought...I thought she hadn’t seen you in years?” You have a sense of confusion and suddenly, dread.

____

Sheila limps to a cave. You see her as you run away from the Troupe and their horrific actions. This happened right before you would spot a blond boy. “Sheila?”

“Oh my God!” She hugs you tightly. Her leg has always been messed up since she was a child.

You feel like crying at the sight of her. It has been you and the Spider for so long now, you were forgetting what Sheila was like. She was the closest thing you had to Sarasa. You had your own way of loving someone, but Sarasa seemed the most natural. A big sister, a mother even. A girl who always shared stickers with you and sang you to sleep.

“What’s going on?” She asks as you hug return her hug. “T-they’re killing them!”

“Who? Who’s dying?”

“The Kurta!” Sheila gasps. “I was just with them. Oh no, did I-”

You sniffle and wipe your eyes. “No, no. This is on them.”

“And the Kurta were so nice too. Harmless, peaceful.”

____

Why did she say that if she knew they killed Sarasa? When did her and Chrollo talk? You were with Chrollo the whole time, so it couldn’t have been that day.

You see Sheila in the background. She is looking down at the ground, then looks up with the most wicked smile and gleam. What? You stare back with horror. Never has she had that smile. It is foreign and totally misplaced. This is Sheila, not a Troupe member. Why is she even here? She isn’t a part of it and disapproved of the group.

Then, everything is falling together.

Everyone’s faces are that of monsters.

You don’t understand. She told them of their whereabouts. She said something completely different to you. And of course, you believed her. Her and Sarasa were like sisters. They were so close it was like looking at twins. Never would you have thought she could commit such a sin. The Kurta were innocent, but...what’s going on? Everyone was desperate to capture Sarasa’s killers-oh no. You stop moving your feet, only to be dragged by Chrollo Lucilfer. He moves his hand from your neck to your arm in a tight hold, tripping you along the way.

“No, no, no!” You’re trying to yank free. How can he not see it? He’s the smartest person you know. How can he not see what had taken place that day? The horror, the blood and mutilation. Chrollo, you must see this!

The Kurta and Sarasa were innocent. Kurapika...your boy.

“Chrollo, don’t you see?” You whisper for only him to hear. He looks down at you as the rain begins to fall gracefully.

You can feel the tears swell.

Does he know what happened that day? That the Troupe and Sheila are monsters. And not just because of the Kurta’s extinction. You may not have all of the puzzle pieces, but by the reactions alone, it becomes clearer.

Out of everyone here, you struggle to read him. Always have, even when you were kids. You only catch the truth from time to time when he gives it to you. They are few in between.

“Have they made a fool of you?” It is rare to one up Chrollo. His power can wipe nations, his aura is powerful and vast, his commanding tone is one that cannot be ignored.

“Sacrifices have to be made.” He bluntly answers without a hint of remorse or second thought. His tone is final and dead. Like he has nothing else to say about it.

_______

“I’m fucking sick of her-!” Uvogin plops down on the chair. It creaks under him. Before Uvogin can continue his ranting, another voice pipes up on the matter of a certain little girl.

“She’d...be fun.” His voice is recognizable to anyone due to his lack of pure fluency. His hair is choppy right now because a brat got her hands on a pair of scissors. The thick, black, strands are being fixed by Pakunoda. It isn’t the best, but at least it wouldn’t look as bad as it did.

Machi taps her foot. “She would be, huh?”

“It can’t be us, though. Too obvious.” Shalnark points. Collectively, the friends are beginning to plan and imagine a better Meteor City.

“Are you guys being serious, right now? This is a child you’re talking about.” Pakunoda taps on Feitan’s shoulder, signaling that she’s done. He turns back to look at her and answers, “Deadly.”

Machi sighs. “You’re right, Shal. It is too obvious. And we have rehearsal with Chrollo, too.”

Pakunoda crosses her arms. “This isn’t sitting right. Something is going to go wrong.”

“Remember your shaved head?” Machi asks. Pakunoda tenses up at the memory of you butchering her hair. Who keeps giving you scissors? You would be cute with that crooked smile of yours if it wasn't caused by the loss of her hair.

“There are a lot more bad things going on in the city. Accidents happen all the time, Paku.” Nobunaga puts his hair into a bun. Pakunoda remains silent. “We can’t let anyone else know. Only ones in this room.”

As said, bad things happen to kids in Meteor City all the time.

Sarasa decided to go find a tape instead of you since you have a habit of picking blanks. You stomped your foot in protest. You wanted to go! You’d finally had the right directions to pick up some good tapes, anyway. Alas, Sarasa went while Chrollo soothed you.

She skips along and sees a few men ready to welcome her in the worst way.

“Is it her?” Uvogin’s heart is racing. It's pounding so loud it’s in his ears. The rain is the only outside noise as Chrollo reluctantly opens the bag.

Chrollo opens the bag and sees the face of Hell. Uvo grabs him and demands to know what is on the note since he can't read it. The wrong face is behind that letter, that much is known. The wrong directions were given to the wrong child. Everyone needs to know. To hear the mistake and pain, the truth.

The words on that letter will never be spoken.

_____

“The Kurta is an isolated clan with special eyes. They'd be a good cover, no?” Sheila asks. Lately, Sarasa’s murder is being brought up more and more. Chrollo is turning into the leader that Meteor City needs. And an omnipotent being. A terrifying, controlling, mastermind of a god. One that demands respect and cooperation, devotion to what he’s created: a spider. But that spider has one weakness that at a drop of a hat, can cause this god to wreak havoc on everything.

Calm and collected he appears, but thunderous when he strikes. Loyal to what is his, but horrible in all.

“So, the Kurta. Agree?”

“Aye.” They say in unison. “It’s not like anyone would miss them.”

_____

The more you study him, the more you wonder if he knows. Was he blind or was he in on it and spun that story of him finding her? How could any of them do this?

“Please, not you...” You whisper. Chrollo’s book is open to a page fit for an exit. A green portal opens. “No! No, no, no!”

You struggle even more as everything, except for Chrollo’s role, becomes clear. You are not the smartest, but you are stupid. Years in that blasted city has taught you valuable lessons of reading people. Years of knowing these people have given you an advantage on top of that. Well, not everything obviously. “Chrollo, what did you do?”

He glances down at you once more. “I am the Head, my fourth limb. But even a spider has a treasure to keep.”

His grey eyes are dull but with the slightest hint of possessiveness. You'd recognize it anywhere. It is the same look he gave you when you saw him today, it is the same when you first met him and he had decided to keep you under his wing, it is the same as when you finally joined the Troupe.

This wicked gleam has always sought you, always found you. Unfortunately, you could never read them other than that. Like you said, he only shows what he wants you to see and even then, it is blurry. God, you wish you could. If only for a moment to answer your question. Just a straight answer, the truth, about how or why Sarasa died. She was innocent and sweet. She was your friend! Everyone’s, actually.

So, why? What could she have possibly done to deserve such a fate? How can he not see the true culprits? What about the Kurta? Did he know and went with it anyway?

No, that’s a bad deal. It can’t be just one question and one answer. You have too many questions. And not a single one will be answered, you bet.

He drags you to the portal. The Troupe starts to enter it. Phinks looks at you for a split second. For that one second his eyes look...sad? No, that’s not possible with someone like him. Like them. You are accepting that you’re in danger, but not that these beasts have a heart or a capability of remorse.

You look around frantically. Where's Kurapika? Is he dead?

Would he save someone like you?

“(Y/n), who are you looking for?” Chrollo asks. He doesn’t even look at you. You want to call out for Kurapika, but that’d expose him to danger. No, if your boy hates you let that be so. At least he’ll be okay. Hopefully he has learned to make his own attire.

“You can’t do this, Lucilfer.”

“But dear, I can, I have, and I will.” A few more steps to the portal. “Lucilfer, I don’t want to go.”

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “Stop this! I don’t want to go. Do you know what they did?”

He calmly turns around and stares at you. He expected this behavior from you. He walks to your frozen form, causing the few survivors of the village to jump. Once again, he cradles your face and places the gentlest of kisses on your lips. They're still soft, you note. Still full and masterful.

Right as your eyes are about to close, you see that he is looking at something past you as the kiss begins to get more intense. More possessive by his hold and the movement of his lips. His grey eyes are narrowed at something that you can’t see.

Is this a claiming? What the hell is he looking at? Done being curious, you turn to look and see your boy Kurapika’s horrified and furious expression. You have no thoughts other than your impending fate. Your vicious crimes and relentlessly cruel past have resurfaced in the form of a wicked man. The boy you took care of and never verbally admitted you loved him as your own, is ruined even more. His heart is broken.

Sarasa is gone, the Spider reigns supreme, and you are stuck. There are more questions than answers at this point. Too many lies from a group that cling together in some sick and twisted loyalty. You have accepted that in the middle of that is the boy you admired and maybe even loved.

And you finally understand what Phinks meant. It wasn’t remorse, it was pity for an old and spoiled friend as they are pushed onto the spider’s web.

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh #chrollo x reader #oof he's got me #angst #slight yandere #yandere #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hxh #smut #mild smut #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #q #cant be the only one who thinks the cross tattoo looks like a web??

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