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badkitty3000 · 2 months

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Breaking The Rules

Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink

So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:

"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"

I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.

Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️

You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.

Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.

As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.

There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.

Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.

There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.

Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.

As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.

So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.

Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.

You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.

It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.

“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”

You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”

Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.

“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”

You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”

You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”

Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”

“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.

Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.

“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.

“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”

Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.

“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”

Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”

Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”

“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”

Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.

Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.

Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.

“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”

“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.

“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.

“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”

“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”

“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.

“What is it?”

“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”

“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”

With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”

Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”

“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”

“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”

Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”

He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”

As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”

He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”

Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”

The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.

“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”

“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”

“No way, I don’t believe it. Not him.”

You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”

“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”

You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”

“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”

“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”

Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.

You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?

You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.

“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”

“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.

“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”

You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”

You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”

“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”

When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”

Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”

You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”

“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.

You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Maybe just one thing.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”

“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”

“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”

“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”

His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”

“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”

“Why not?”

“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”

“Normally?” he cut in.

You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”

Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”

“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.

You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”

“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”

The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.

“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”

“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”

“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.

“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.

He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”

“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”

He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”

At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.

“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”

Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”

“But what?”

“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”

He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”

“As modest as always.”

“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”

“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”

“I did not know that.”

“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”

“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”

Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”

When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.

“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.

“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.

“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.

After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”

As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.

“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”

Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.

Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.

“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.

Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”

Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.

When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.

“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.

Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.

You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.

“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.

Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.

“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”

A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.

“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”

When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.

“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.

“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.

“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.

Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.

“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.

He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.

“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.

When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.

“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”

Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.

“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.

“Five?”

“What do you need, darling?”

“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”

He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”

When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.

“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.

Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.

“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”

Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.

“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”

You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.

Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.

Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.

When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.

You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”

After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.

“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.

“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”

When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.

“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”

Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”

“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”

“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”

After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.

Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.

You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.

Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.

You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.

Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.

Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.

The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.

It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.

Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.

After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.

He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.

“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.

You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”

He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”

He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”

Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”

“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”

Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.

Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.

Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.

“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”

Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”

The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”

“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”

There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”

“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.

“That is correct, yes. But—”

“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”

“Well…yes…I suppose…”

You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”

He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”

The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”

Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”

There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”

Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.

What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.

He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”

You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”

“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”

The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.

“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”

You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”

His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.

You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”

Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”

Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”

Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.

“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.

You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”

“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.

Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.

“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.

“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.

#five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves #number five #number five smut #body positive #the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #five hargreeves smut #fanfiction requests #requests open #tua fanfic #tua fanfiction #umbrella academy fanfic #smut #badkittywrites

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scarfacemarston · 5 months

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Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot

For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.

"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"

"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"

"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.

“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married. Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you

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noparadiseinthis · 14 days

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English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

I've never got past that part

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Warnings: Literally none, just cuteness - if you ignore Spencer's slight insecurity.

Summary: Morgan encourages Spencer to ask out the barista at the nearby BAU coffee shop. Already expecting a rejection, he is surprised by the result. (I like to imagine Reid from the first season here, the one who had never asked anyone)

"Come on, handsome. You'll never know unless you ask her." Morgan said, adopting a big-brother demeanor with Spencer as he slipped one of his arms around the boy's neck. "First time for everything, huh?"

Spencer cursed the day he let Morgan know that he never asked anyone for a date. Since then, the man seemed to be on a mission to set him up on a date and as soon as he saw the red cheeks and wandering eyes the young doctor had for you, he knew immediately.

"You clearly have a crush on her."

"No, I don't." Spencer hissed, trying to get out of Morgan's grip. "And keep your voice down." He whispered gruffly, glancing quickly at you to make sure you hadn't heard anything.

Derek rolled his eyes, puffing out his chest to start a motivational speech, or his version of it, at least. "Look, I don't want to spend the rest of my life making fun of you for not going on a date. Stop wasting opportunities."

Spencer looked up at his friend, looking a little wary and shy as he asked, "Opportunities?".

"For a genius, you can be pretty oblivious. The girl has a crush on you too."

Reid's eyes widened, although he tried not to show too much reaction. Was it possible? That you look at him the way he looks at you. "You think?"

When Spencer met you, he was sure he was screwed, completely paralyzed by your appearance, and he embarrassed himself by spending long minutes in silence until he pulled himself together and made his request. With his increasingly frequent visits - and the extra coffees he brought for the team members in the morning, which no one complained about - he saw beyond your beauty, and what he saw only made his crush grow stronger. He had already decided, however, to ignore it completely and let nature take its course and put an end to his feelings for you. But what if he didn't have to do that? What if it could be more?

"I'm sure."

The heart eyes, the excited smile you opened when you saw Spencer walk through the door and the way you blushed and fiddled with your hair while he ordered didn't lie. Reid may have missed those signs, but Derek didn't.

You watched the scene with more curiosity and amusement than you probably should have. In the corner of the café, the two men stood with their backs to you, Derek - the one you met today - cradling Spencer in one of his arms while they seemed to be having a serious discussion. You weren't the nosy type, but you'd give anything to know what they were talking about.

Spencer was a regular customer, as were several other FBI agents, but there was something special about the young genius who could recite complete passages of foreign poetry in their original language and still blush every time you drew a heart next to his name on the glass.

You liked to think that you put a dose of affection into every drink you made, but with his, you certainly took twice as much care, never failing to laugh at the huge amounts of sugar that were needed. You finished the two coffees, wrote the names on the cups even though you didn't need to at that point, and called out loudly. "Spencer and Derek."

Spencer was startled to hear his name called and Derek smiled at seeing his friend so affected. "Go on, tiger." He said with a laugh, pushing Spencer towards the counter and giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Spencer preferred to think that he didn't approach the counter as slowly as it seemed in his head. Thousands of phrases came to mind, but none of them seemed right. When he only took the coffee with a quick "thank you," turning to leave, Derek regretted it internally. No, kid, he thought with agony.

One step away from you and Reid reconsidered, taking a deep breath so as not to chicken out before turning back to you, who stared at his departure with the feeling that you had done something wrong since he hadn't stopped to have his usual conversation, which would normally last until work dragged him down or your manager started looking at you with something akin to anger

"I was thinking..." He began, but stopped midway, looking into your anxious eyes.

God, was that really happening? Was it what you imagined?

"Do you want to do something? One day when you're free." He said, scratching the back of his head.

It was what you had imagined. Your heart raced as you jumped inside. "Like a date?" You asked, just to make sure you hadn't taken it the wrong way.

And before he could turn around again, you gave your answer. "I'd love to!"

"Yeah, like a date." He replied, interpreting your question as surprise and refusal. "But it's not necessary, you know? Just... forget I said that."

That's it, kid! Derek smiled proudly, watching the two of you with total indiscretion.

Spencer's eyes widened, taking a few seconds to process the fact that you had accepted! It was real. Maybe Elle was right.

"That's... great." He said, a small, shy smile appearing as he looked away.

"And where are you taking me?" You asked, flirting with him a little.

That's when Spencer realized. "I don't know," he admitted embarrassedly, "I've never got past that part."

You laughed, but you didn't seem to be mocking him, you seemed to be laughing with him. "You're cute," you murmured, making him blush a little. You looked around, and when you saw that your manager wasn't around, you pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, wrote quickly, and handed it to him. "Tell you what, you decide where we're going and let me know, OK?"

He took your number as if it were some kind of treasure, his eyes a little delighted, and almost forgot to answer. "Of course! Yeah... I'll see you later."

"Bye, come again!" You exclaimed happily, returning to your dedicated barista facade.

As they left the establishment, Derek's huge smile returned, as did his arm around Spencer's neck. "I said, congratulations, big boy. You're a man now."

Spencer hardly minded the teasing this time, thinking about your smile and asking Gideon for the address of that restaurant he had praised.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #fluff

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cleo-fox · 1 year

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Close Quarters

Part 1 of 2

Summary: “You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to go undercover at a luxury resort.

The only problem? Your fake husband is Loki Laufeyson—the infuriatingly handsome Norse god turned Avenger who delights in making you flustered. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki.

A/N: there will be a part 2. Also have a handful of related one shot ideas, so if people like this, I may post those. This is also posted on AO3.

Your self-sufficiency has always been a point of pride for you, both personally and professionally. The highlight of your career was overhearing Nick Fury say that he didn’t need to send in a team of people for a mission so long as he had you on the payroll. You are calm, competent, and ruthlessly efficient; you are used to relying only on yourself.

So it comes as something of a surprise when Fury informs you that Loki Laufeyson will not only be accompanying you on this undercover mission, but will also be taking the lead.

It takes a lot to render you speechless these days, but this does it. You gape at Fury for a moment before you’re able to speak.

“You never send me in with anyone,” you say.

“This mission requires a unique skillset.”

You scoff. “He can’t do anything that I can’t.”

Fury raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “Really? How’s your conversational Sokovian?”

There’s, of course, no argument to be made with this. Your lips press into a thin, hard line. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to play the part of Nina Pine.

Nina Pine is bubbly and vivacious, the sort of person you’d see in the society pages. She wears designer clothes and owns jewelry that is so ostentatious and expensive that it looks like it must be fake. She is not particularly bright or talented; she is the product of good luck and generational wealth.

Three weeks ago, Nina married Jonathan Pine, who she met six months ago at the home of a mutual friend. Jonathan does something in finance that sounds like it’s just a tarted up version of gambling, but with more complicated rules and less oversight. It is Jonathan’s higher tolerance for risk (and healthy trust fund assets) that has him considering an investment in KorolCo, a company owned by Ivan Litvinchuk. Litvinchuk uses KorolCo as a front to launder money from illegal arms deals.

Loki would be going undercover as Jonathan. Your new husband.

You are not particularly happy about this little detail (a detail that Fury mysteriously failed to mention when you met with him), in no small part because Loki has already started leveraging it to annoy the shit out of you.

“How are you already this annoying when we’re still in prep?” you say after a particularly exasperating meeting.

“I’m simply overcome by my love for you,” says Loki with a cloying faux sincerity that makes you yearn for the sweet release of death.

Fury, you note, is suspiciously unavailable during all of this. After ignoring three of your (admittedly lengthy) emails on the subject, he sends you a frustratingly short reply:

Do your job, Agent.

Maybe you’ll take up meditation.

If there’s a bright side to what appears to be a massive clusterfuck in the making, it’s that you’ll at least get a free vacation of sorts

The mission will be taking place at The Indigo, an absurdly expensive and exclusive hotel on a private beach not far from La Jolla Cove. The Indigo is the sort of place that you’d only read about—the kind of hyper exclusive resort that is only ever mentioned in damning Pro Publica reports about the questionable actions of high ranking public officials. Rooms start at fifty thousand a night and you are staying in one of the suites, which likely costs more. Your room information was included in your briefing materials and it all sounds too good to be true: a soaking tub and waterfall shower. Private terrace with an infinity pool. Private bar. In-suite chef and spa services by appointment. Ocean view.

One Norse god who delights in irritating you (non-negotiable).

You suppose you’ll try and make the best of it.

The first problem is your sleeping arrangements: there’s only one bed. Granted, it’s a big bed, but still—it suggests a level of intimacy that you had not thought about and are not at all prepared for.

“Well, Agent, this isn’t how I envisioned taking you to my bed, but I suppose it’ll have to do,” says Loki on your first evening there.

You chuck a pillow at him, which he easily dodges.

“Keep it up and you can magic yourself a pillow and sleeping bag and sleep in the hall,” you say.

“Even if that were an appropriate accommodation for someone of my rank and title, I rather think it would do some damage to our cover.”

He has a point and you don’t like it. You decide to ignore him and start getting ready for bed.

The pajamas that had been packed for you are a little fancier than what you’re used to—satin and lace instead of cotton tees and shorts. Normally, you’d relish the opportunity to feel a little fancy—it’s an unexpected indulgence, a splurge on the company dime.

But with Loki now thrown into the equation, you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact that the fabric will likely cling to your curves, that the hem of the skirt is just a little too high. You choose the most demure one of the lot—a pale rose colored thing hemmed with lace—and head to the bathroom to change.

Even with the matching robe, you still feel a little awkward and oddly nervous. You avoid looking at Loki—if his gaze is lingering on your legs or your hips, you don’t want to know about it right before you hop into bed with him—and go about your normal routine. You manage to have a relatively normal conversation about your plan for tomorrow and you read a couple chapters of your book before you start to drift off.

It’s a king sized bed with plenty of room, but somehow you wake up perched near the edge of the bed with Loki pressed up against your back.

He’s got one arm wrapped around your waist so that you’re pinned against him and the deep, even breaths brushing against the back of your neck tell you he’s still asleep. You’re pretty sure this must have been unintentional on his part: Loki doesn’t seem like the sort to willingly allow himself to be seen seeking out human contact. It’s too vulnerable, too soft for the sharp and sarcastic veneer he presents to the world.

He shifts slightly in his sleep, his grip on you tightening. Something hard pokes against the curve of your ass.

You can’t help the responding ache between your legs. You should feel embarrassed—and you do, just a little—but there’s a competing feeling of warm curiosity that makes you press your thighs together. It’s been a while and you miss being held like this. The silk of your nightgown is cool and slippery against your skin, and you feel oddly restless and alert despite the early hour.

You should put a stop to this—that is the professional and sensible thing to do. So you carefully lift his arm from your waist and gently extricate yourself from his embrace. You pad to the bathroom, leaving the light off to spare your eyes.

In the bathroom, you run the tap as cold as it will go. You cup your hands and drink before splashing some water on your face in an effort to quell the restless heat building between your thighs.

It doesn’t really work. You’re not entirely surprised—if you were by yourself, you would simply take care of it, but that’s obviously not an option now. Out of curiosity, you slip your fingers between your thighs to assess the state of things and you immediately regret it: you’re soaked and just the feeling of your index finger glancing against your clit is enough to undo the admittedly minimal effect of the cold water.

You splash your face again and shut off the tap, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing your hands against your hair.

You exit the bathroom and slide back into bed. Loki reaches for you in his sleep and you are only half surprised when you let him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensifies and before you can think about it, your back is arching and your breath is hitching.

He pulls you closer and suddenly his breath is warm on your ear. “You know, if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, only a little husky with sleep.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, even as your back arches again and you press yourself against him.

Lips press against where your neck and shoulder meet. “But you want it.” His fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown. “Yes?” he asks, his voice husky against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Agent.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Agent.”

Your eyes flutter open. Loki is standing at the foot of the bed, hair wet, and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s eight o’clock,” he says. “You need to shower and dress if we’re to make it to breakfast on time.”

It takes you a moment to process this information. Partly because he just woke you up from a sex dream about him and partly because wearing only a towel should be fucking illegal when you look like that. You try to keep your eyes trained on his and not let them drift to his flat stomach where you can see a faint smattering of chest hair that gathers in a line that trails directly to his cock. And definitely not to any of the muscles that are on tantalizing display and dotted by drops of water that are begging to be licked away. Nope. Not looking at any of that. Just at his devastatingly handsome face.

Fuck.

“Agent?”

You shake your head. “Sorry. Bit groggy this morning. Finish up what you were doing and I’ll go jump in the shower.”

He gives you a bit of an odd look, but mercifully walks away without further comment.

This gives you an opportunity to stare at his broad back as he walks away. Goddammit, even his ass looks good in that towel.

Fuck.

You have a feeling this is going to be a long week.

It’s only day one and it’s becoming clear to you that you are not really prepared for some of the practicalities of being Loki’s wife.

Specifically: being the primary focus of his flirtations and little gestures of affection. His hand on the small of your back, his fingers lacing with yours, the brush of his lips against the back of your hand or the shell of your ear—it’s all a little overwhelming in a way you don’t expect. It was one thing when he was razzing you in your prep meetings—he was quite clearly doing it to be irritating. But at The Indigo, he has to appear sincere for your cover and that particular detail makes it a different beast entirely.

The fact that both his regular appearance and the blond-haired, blue-eyed glamor he’s adopted for the mission are both devastatingly handsome certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the additional baggage of your sex dream this morning.

Unfortunately for you, Loki quickly ascertains that he now has a great and novel way to fluster you. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he seems to find this as hilarious as he did back in prep meetings, which prompts him to be only more outlandish.

“Are you trying to sabotage this?” It’s later that afternoon and you’ve gone down to the pool with the plan of schmoozing with Litvinchuk and his associates. Loki has clearly decided that this needs to be more difficult than it is and has fully committed to the bit, as they say.

(You’ve also gotten very good at whispering threats under your breath and making it look like you’re flirting; the timing of this is not a coincidence).

“I don’t know why you’re so distraught about sunscreen,” says Loki, rubbing a generous amount between his palms.

“It’s not the sunscreen, it’s that you’re going to find some way to be inappropriate about it.”

“I’d never.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You wound me.” He places his hands on your shoulders and begins rubbing in the sunscreen, going much slower than you think is strictly necessary. “Perhaps this trip is merely bringing out our natural chemistry.”

“You wish.”

“Is it the hair that does it for you, Mrs. Pine? Do you have a particular fondness for blonds?”

“Do you have a fondness for being murdered in broad daylight? Because that’s the fate you’re headed towards, buster.”

He tuts at you as his hands slide to the small of your back. “Temper, temper. You really need to work on that.”

“Have you considered working on not annoying the ever-loving shit out of me?”

His breath is suddenly warm against your ear. “Now where’s the fun in that? And before you answer, be advised that Tarasevich is looking right at us.”

Fuck. Tarasevich is the most suspicious and paranoid of the lot—years in the Sokovian mafia paired with recreational drug use will do that to a guy. You turn so that you’re facing Loki. He looks at you fondly, looking for all the world like a loved up newlywed just smitten with his new wife.

“One of these days, I’m going to drop kick you into the motherfucking sun,” you say in the sweetest voice that you can muster.

“Now, now, Mrs. Pine, let’s keep the foreplay in the bedroom.” He rests his forehead against yours, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “There’s such a thing as public indecency laws, you know.”

You sigh heavily. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh, because it’s so much fun.”

“Is he still looking?”

“Yes and I’m going to kiss you to put him off, so do try to contain yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You catch a flicker of a smile before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You intend for this to be brief, but his mouth is so warm and inviting and before you know it, he’s gently coaxing your lips open and leading your tongue in a slow and seductive caress that has your mind drifting straight to the gutter.

His hand slides to your thigh and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.

“Ah, Pine. Mixing business and pleasure, I see.”

You pull back from Loki to find Ivan Litvinchuk standing in front of you, wearing the smug, congratulatory smirk that you often see men like him trading with one another when they think they’re getting somewhere with a woman.

“Normally I try not to, but I’ve found it rather impossible these last three weeks, haven’t I, darling?” Loki takes the opportunity to loop his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, nuzzling your neck.

You give a good natured laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone would fault me when I have such a tempting little wife.”

This, paired with the squeeze of his hand on your thigh, sends an unexpected rush of heat to your cunt. Fortunately, the effects of this are quickly tempered when you notice that Litvinchuk is eyeing you rather appreciatively. The wardrobe team has really outdone themselves with your clothes, but the swimsuits they’ve sent are definitely more revealing than you are used to—today’s choice is a bikini with a split sweetheart neckline that dips a lot lower than you’d like and a fucking underwire in the top. Underwire! The bottom is no better—it’s both low rise and high cut, the perfect way to ensure that half of your ass is exposed at any given time. Even in the matching translucent cover up—which of course you’ve left on the chair that Litvinchuk is standing in front of—you feel a little more bare than you’d like, a fact that Litvinchuk seems to be appreciating, if the path of his gaze is any indication.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Pine,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage.

You expertly tamp down your disgust and smile at Litvinchuk before turning around to bat your eyes at Loki.

“You are, aren’t you?” you say, twining your arms around his neck and planting a brief, chaste kiss on his lips.

He gives you a dazzling smile that’s so sincere it makes your stomach flip. “Very much so.”

Another squeeze of your thigh, more heat to your cunt. Fuck.

“Well, Pine, when you are ready to discuss more business—” Here he switches to Sokovian.

This is the part you dislike the most about this particular mission: whenever anything of substance comes up, Litvinchuk and his cronies immediately switch to Sokovian, leaving you in the dark.

To add insult to injury, Litvinchuk still seems infatuated by your cleavage.

Litvinchuk says goodbye a few minutes later and you manage to bite your tongue until he’s out of earshot.

“I really don’t love the fact that he spent half of that conversation sneaking looks at my boobs,” you say quietly.

“Well, to be fair, they do look spectacular,” says Loki. “I’ll have to send a thank you note to the wardrobe team for that.”

Heat stirs hopefully and unhelpfully in your hips at that comment.

“This is what I meant by being inappropriate, you know. Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“He’s invited me to a game of cards this afternoon.”

“Do you need me for that? I could go try and talk to the wives, see what I can find out.”

“Originally, I’d thought no, but since dear Ivan seems so enamored of your assets, it might not be a bad idea to have you come along.”

You sigh. “How am I now at the point in my life where letting an illegal arms dealer stare at my tits is a fucking mission objective?”

Loki laughs quietly. “We’ll keep that out of the final report.”

The card game ends up being a lot worse than you thought it would be. And not because of Litvinchuk’s wandering eyes.

They’ve set up the game on the pool deck tables and chairs. As best as you can tell, it’s a Sokovian twist on a combination of rummy and poker. You’re not the only woman at the table: a few of the other men have their girlfriends or mistresses draped over them like strange human scarves, though their roles seem to be largely decorative.

Loki makes a big show of pulling you into his lap, saying how he just can’t bear to be apart from his new wife for terribly long.

“Ah, young love,” says Mikhnevich. “I remember when my Irina and I were like this.”

“Now she begs for him to leave the house!” says Litvinchuk. There’s a hearty round of laughter—it’s not a particularly funny joke, but you suppose that’s one of the benefits of moving up in the world of crime: people will laugh at your jokes because they’re afraid you’ll kidnap their families or something. It’s all very dysfunctional.

Loki makes an effort to teach you the game, but Nina is not the sort who pays very close attention to that kind of thing, so you find yourself giggling and letting him steal kisses or whisper in your ear as he explains some strategy or another.

There are several problems with this arrangement. The first is that you are positioned on his lap in such a way that you can feel his cock nudging your ass or your thigh, depending on how he’s sitting. And it’s close enough proximity for you to ascertain that he is long, thick, and semi-erect.

The second problem is his thigh; specifically, how it presses against your cunt, how every time Loki leans forward to draw a card, he inadvertently rocks you against the firm muscle. Each time, it feels better than the last; each time, you clench and ache and talk yourself out of riding his thigh until you have a screaming orgasm right on the pool deck. Each time, the idea becomes more and more tempting.

The third problem is his hands. Specifically, where and how they are wandering. He plays it off like it’s unintentional, like he’s just absently fidgeting with the part of your suit that lays against your hip or idly drawing lazy circles on your thigh. You can’t help but think that it must be calculated. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours intentionally trying to drive you crazy–there’s no way that he would pass up an opportunity to play his little games without you scolding him or rolling your eyes.

The fourth problem is that the first three problems are turning you on a lot.

Your clit seems to swell with every pass of his fingertips on your bare skin, no matter how casual. It drags against the slick material of your swimsuit every time you shift on Loki’s muscular thigh. You can feel yourself growing slicker and slicker with every moment. Eventually, it becomes too much and you try to shift in his lap, crossing your legs to give yourself a little relief.

This does exactly nothing useful. Instead, your movement causes his cock to twitch against you, which only escalates your growing arousal. He hooks the elastic of your suit at your hip onto his thumb and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. His expression is playful when you look up at him, but there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

You are throbbing, your cunt practically weeping with slickness. And you’re pretty sure he knows.

And you’re pretty sure you don’t mind.

You lick your lips.

He hooks his thumb back into your suit at the hip, and this time he leaves it there, his fingers splayed along the curve of your hip. It’s casually possessive and ridiculously hot and the polar opposite of helpful.

He definitely knows.

Your heart is pounding. Can you go into cardiac arrest from being too turned on? You wish you could use Google. At a minimum, some sort of visual equivalent of a cold shower would be helpful. Pictures of Henry Kissinger or something. Budget reports. Taxes. Anything to get your mind off your aching cunt and the mess that you’re making in your swimsuit.

“I think you could do with a bit of a lie down, Mrs. Pine.” Loki's voice is low in your ear. “You seem…warm.”

You would have thought that Loki knowing about your current state of arousal would be cause for humiliation, if not irritation. Instead, it only seems to add fuel to the fire, especially with the way he’s talking to you. You’re not sure how he’s doing this, but it feels like his fucking voice is vibrating in the cradle of your hips, sending a fresh wave of slick arousal to your dripping cunt.

“Yeah,” you say. “Very warm.”

It’s perhaps a testament to your current state of mind that you can only manage this sentence and not some smart remark.

“Would you like my help with that, darling?” he asks. The phrasing is innocent, but the question is loaded. And sincere. You take in a shaky breath. You know all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. He may be wildly irritating, but you suspect he’s likely a good fuck…and you really need to be fucked.

You nod. “Yeah…I’d like that.”

“We’ll go up to the room after this game ends,” he says. “And then I’ll take very good care of you.”

It takes everything in you not to whine. Fuck. You didn’t think it was possible to be this wet, this turned on.

Loki shifts slightly, pulling you close against him, his cock now fully erect and pressing hard and thick against your ass.

“Do you feel me?” he asks, his lips grazing your ear. “Do you feel what you’ve done?”

You nod and wiggle your hips slightly, partly to situate yourself and partly because you want a little bit of payback. His grip on your hip tightens.

“I’d advise you not to play games, little wife,” he rasps in your ear.

More heat builds in your hips. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. Maybe never. You throw a look at Loki over your shoulder. “It’s not a game,” you say. “I’m just very warm.”

His eyes are dark. “Burning up, I suspect.”

“You have no idea.” You lean back against him, turning so you can nuzzle your face against his neck. God, he smelled good. “Please,” You say it so quietly that only he can hear, “I’m aching.”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and you feel his cock throb. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my leave a little early—Mrs. Pine is feeling quite unwell.”

Fuck yes.

If Litvinchuk and his men suspect there’s anything untoward about your departure, they don’t say so—and you imagine you must look a little unsteady anyway. Loki slides an arm around your waist as you leave.

“Now Mrs. Pine,” he says once you’re out of earshot, “tell me exactly what ails you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“I only want to ensure that we are on the same page,” he says with a smirk.

“Like hell you do. I already told you, you just want to hear—” You cut yourself off, realizing that you’re playing right into his hands.

He smiles like a cat with a bowl full of cream. “What do I want to hear, darling?”

You press your lips together. This is infuriating.

“I’m waiting…”

You blow out a shaky breath. Fuck it. “You just want to hear me say that I’m fucking soaked because you’ve been rubbing me against your thighs and touching me for the last two hours and if I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

He smirks as you approach the hotel lobby. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say all that.”

“You absolutely were.”

The air conditioned air in the hotel lobby feels extra icy against your sunwarmed skin and your sandals seem to clack particularly loudly against the marble floors.

“You have a smart mouth, do you know that?”

“You like it,” you say as you approach the bank of elevators. “That’s the reason why you pull half of this shit with me.”

“Perhaps.” He gives you a smile that feels a little dangerous and sends even more heat to your aching cunt. “But do you know what my favorite part of your smart mouth is, Mrs. Pine?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The elevator door opens. It’s empty and your cunt clenches at the possibilities this presents.

“My favorite part about your smart mouth,” says Loki in a low voice as you step into the elevator, “is that it will sound that much sweeter when I make you beg for me.”

The elevator door slides closed and you barely have a chance to react before he’s backing you up against the wall and pressing his thigh between your legs.

“You’re a disobedient, wicked tease, Mrs. Pine,” he growls, sending a thrill through you. “I think you could benefit from a firm hand.”

“You like it,” you breathe, rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to capture some of the same friction that was driving you wild earlier.

“Rutting yourself against my thigh in public like a common slut,” he purrs. “You must be desperate.” He slides a hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your bathing suit. His expression changes the moment his fingers dip past the fabric—almost like he expected you to be wet, but not this wet.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs as you keen. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”

“I need to come so bad,” you gasp.

“I know you do.” He reaches over and slams the emergency stop button and the elevator shudders to a halt. “And you’re going to. Right now.”

“I can wait until we get to the ro—”

He spins you around and pulls you to him so your back is pressed against his chest.

“No, you can’t.” He curls his big frame over yours, sliding his hand back into your bathing suit and stroking the full length of your sex and making you cry out again. “You need it too badly.” He starts rubbing your clit with his middle and index fingers. “And I don’t think it’s going to take all that long, darling,” he growls, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, “because you’re already so fucking wet.”

There’s a small, distant part of you that resents the fact that he’s right about anything, let alone anything pertaining to your orgasms.

The larger part of you is focused on the fact that he’s right: you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard.

Your legs are shaking and you brace your arms against the elevator wall to hold yourself up. You moan loudly and arch your back as the feeling starts building in your hips.

“You need this so badly, don’t you?” He nips hard at your earlobe. “You’re desperate for it. I felt you tense up every time your sopping cunt rubbed against my thigh, every time I touched you just right.”

You whimper, pressure rising in your hips as you rock with his hands.

“You’re so close,” Loki purrs in your ear. His hips are thrusting mindlessly against your ass, like he can’t wait to be inside you.

“Fuck, I need to come,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m going to make you come, darling, but I think what you really need is to be fucked.”

You moan as your orgasm starts to crest.

“You need to be fucked properly and hard,” he murmurs. “You need me to take care of your sopping wet, needy little cunt. You need to be filled to the brim with my cock and my come like the good girl that you are. You need to come over and over on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”

This is what pushes you over the edge. The muscles of your cunt clench and then pleasure is blooming in your belly as the tension of the last two hours comes to a peak and you come hard. You cry out, your hips rocking against Loki’s hand, chasing the shimmery aftershocks.

“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. He holds you as you shudder and shake, his fingers still moving, still coaxing out those final waves of pleasure. But just when you think he’s about to pull his hand away, he starts massaging your clit again, one long finger slipping inside you.

“You don’t think you’re going to be satisfied with just one, do you?” he growls in your ear. “Not a needy girl like you, not when you’ve been dripping for hours. You need more, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck—” You can feel that pressure growing again and you know it’s going to be different this time.

“You’re going to come for me again, pretty girl,” he purrs. “And this time, I want to hear you scream.”

Everything is coiling up so tight and tense and suddenly two of his fingers are inside of you and they’re curling just right and the edges of your vision go white as everything inside you fizzes and releases and a sharp cry falls from your lips as you come.

“Good girl,” his voice rumbles low over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

His hand finally stills once the final aftershocks roll through you. Your legs are shaking, but his grip on you is still firm. Boneless, you turn to him and he presses his slick fingers past your lips. You suck and lick his fingers clean and then he’s kissing you, sucking your own essence from your lips and tongue.

“Fuck,” you breathe as the elevator shudders to life. “Fuck, that was so good.”

Loki laughs quietly and scoops you up into his arms as the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, darling.”

Continued in Part 2

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x yn smut #loki x y/n #loki x yn #loki x you smut #close quarters fic

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18250mm · 4 months

Text

She Kicks Ass | N. Romanoff

Gif not mine, credit to creator

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Super-Soldier!Reader

Word Count: 1,122

Warnings: None

Summary: You save Clint’s ass when Natasha gets angry at him, but not before reminding everyone just how good she is at kicking ass.

---

“Who the hell ate my sandwich?!” Natasha’s voice echoed through the Avengers Compound. She’d just come back from a tough morning at the gym and she was, without a doubt, ready for lunch.

When the redhead opened the refrigerator to grab the food you had so graciously prepared for her before heading off to fulfil your own duties at S.H.I.E.L.D., it was gone.

Pissed wasn’t even enough to describe how she felt right now.

“What are you yelling about, baby?” you asked, walking into the kitchen since you were on your lunch break too. “How was your training this morning?”

You and Natasha had been together for about two years now, having started dating a few months after you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. You had defected from HYDRA — although… to be fair, you never really agreed with their ideologies in the first place — after being born to parents in the organisation. With your expertise and skill sets matching that of a high-ranking agent, you worked closely with Maria and Natasha as the second Deputy Director.

You weren’t small either, making you useful for certain field missions. Since HYDRA loved to experiment on their troops, it came as no surprise when you were eventually chosen to test their latest version of the super-soldier serum. It wasn’t an exact replica of the one Steve Rogers had coursing through his veins, but hey — at least it didn’t kill you.

“It was good up till the point I found out that someone ate the sandwich you made for me,” Natasha replied with a pout before resuming her stoic expression. “And when I find out who it is–”

She didn’t even finish her sentence before storming off (not without giving you a quick peck on the lips, of course) — but you knew exactly what she was going to say. You weren’t the most religious, yet you found yourself saying a silent prayer for the culprit.

You chuckled, turning around to grab the same ingredients you had used to make the first sandwich. Whatever happened to the last one, you didn’t know; but you weren’t going to let that spoil your girlfriend’s mood for the rest of the day.

…

A good 10 minutes had passed since you last saw Natasha. You’d finished preparing and bagging the second sandwich, and was awaiting the redhead’s return before lunch was over.

You had also brewed a fresh pot of coffee, mostly for the two of you to enjoy, but in good nature, the rest of the team too.

“Y/N! Y/N, help me!” came an exasperated whisper from across the room.

Turning around in confusion, your furrowed brows quickly softened when you saw Clint running into the kitchen with… a sandwich in his mouth.

Natasha’s sandwich.

He had taken it. And your girlfriend was hot on his tail.

“You really should know better than to take Nat’s food, Hawkeye,” you told him, but stepped aside anyway for him to climb into the vent above you. “She isn’t the kind of target you’d wanna mess with. You know that.”

The blond rolled his eyes and nodded, mumbling quick apologies you couldn’t even make out. “Mmank hyou!” he said — and that was the last you saw of him as he disappeared somewhere into the inner spaces of the Avengers Compound.

“I don’t care if you’re my best friend, I wouldn’t even let my sister eat that sandwich! Y/N made it for me!” you heard your lover’s voice as she made her way towards you — she had definitely seen Clint turn the corner here — with Wanda, Yelena and Kate behind her.

By now, a small crowd had formed — with all the shouting and vent-climbing, how could it not? — around you two.

Natasha came to a halt and looked around. “Detka, where’s Clint?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “I haven’t seen him, I thought he was with Kate,” you met the tall brunette’s eyes, subtly motioning for her to go along with it.

At first, Kate didn’t catch on, shaking her head before glancing up and spotting her mentor directly above her as he watched the scene unfold while chewing on the sandwich. Her eyes widened and she went into a coughing fit — causing all eyes to turn to her for a brief moment.

“I’m fine, thank you,” the young archer assured everyone. “Uh, yeah. Clint was just with me, ‘Tasha. I think he went to the armoury to grab more trick arrows…”

“I could’ve sworn I saw him come in here with my food,” Natasha mumbled, sighing. You immediately wrapped your arms around her comfortingly. “I really wanted that sandwich.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you cooed, stepping aside to reveal her newly-replaced lunch and a cup of coffee. “I made you another one. Now, how ‘bout you eat before our break’s over?”

The way Natasha’s eyes lit up was the reason you wanted to do everything in life that would make her smile like that.

“Thank you,” she whispered, kissing you on the cheek as you tightened your grip on her.

“I’m just glad she won’t kick Barton’s ass today,” Tony laughed. “Though I’m sure with Rogers and Barnes around, that won’t be too easy for her.”

You merely scoffed at the billionaire’s statement. “My girlfriend can totally kick their asses! She can kick anyone’s ass. Hell, she can even kick my ass. And she has, many times. It was hot.”

Natasha watched you lovingly and casually sipped on her coffee as you rambled on. The other Avengers laughed, some shaking their heads while others looked away nervously because they saw no lie in what you said.

“Thank you for coming to my sister’s rescue,” said Yelena. “But I feel the need to clarify that I am still better than her.”

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that,” your beloved redhead replied sarcastically, finishing the rest of her food and putting the dishes in the sink. “Come, sestra. Let’s put that to the test.”

As the two made their way to the gym — with Wanda shaking her head and mumbling something along the lines of ‘here we go again’ — and the rest dispersed to either have their lunch or resume whatever task they had been doing, you sat alone by the island and took a bite of your own sandwich.

You smiled to yourself, thinking about how good you had it despite having to risk your life every day. You were absolutely in love with Natasha Romanoff, not to mention the amazing family you’d made with the Avengers.

Your thoughts were briefly interrupted when a blur of purple darted past you, but not before giving you a kiss on the head.

“Thanks for saving me back there, Y/N/N!” Clint waved, making his way to the armoury to actually get some of those trick arrows so Natasha wouldn’t be suspicious.

#18250mm #18250mm’s fics #marvel #mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #gn reader #super soldier #one shot #fanfic

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mischiefmaker615 · 4 months

Text

Take Two

Summary: Somehow you find yourself facing 2 Loki's! but don't worry.. you're in safe hands..

Loki from the Thor films will be be Loki(OG) and Loki will be from Ragnarok/Infinity Wars era. bare with me *sweats*

Rated: R

Note: *sweats more* my first threesome one shot of some sorts..

Front row seats: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @itgirl-cad @firelightinferno @liminalpebble @izka8520 @huntedmusicgardenn @loki-laufeyson223 @skittslackoffilter

‘’you will not harm her.’’

‘’I have no intentions on harming her, I assure you. just those who are in my way..’’

You lost track of how many times your eyes have gone back and forth until they gave up once you began getting circled. You had no memory of what had happened a few hours ago, just how you went to bed and.. that’s it. was this a dream? A nightmare? No.. it couldn’t be.. Loki was here, you knew you wouldn’t be harmed.. yet you still tried wrapping your head around the fact that somehow your wrists were strapped to a chair. The cold temperature in the room reminded you just how short your nightgown was as it stopped mid-thigh, hugging your body tighter then the oxygen that struggled to leave your lungs as you took in the scene before you.

Loki(OG) passed your right side once more, chest out and strutting elegantly in his royal attire of leather and armor. His eyes weren’t on you, thankfully.. his dagger clutched in his hand as he held his attention on his opponent that came before you once more in a completely circle and they both kept going. This Loki was dressed similarly just.. less armor, a more casual form but still held the vibe that he was royal and could strike you down in half a second- thus clutching his own dagger with his eyes on the.. other Loki.

‘’where am i?’’ you manage to get your mouth to form words as you realized you were shaking. ‘’how did I get here?-‘’ it looked like you were almost in an interrogation room, with you three being the only ones in the light, surrounded by darkness. If anyone would take a few steps back anywhere, they would surly not be seen. However your voice was enough to have them both pause a few steps away from either side of you, their stance still in defense towards the other but their eyes at least never showed you anything with bad intentions..

‘’you are safe darling, we are.. unsure of our whereabouts as well-‘’ Loki(OG) started, his voice gentle as if it were to calm you as his eyes traveled your body as you shook.

‘’we both know you, it is quite difficult to know who exactly you belong too- but I am most certainly not going to give you up if there is a slight chance you are mistakenly placed’’ Loki snapped as he held his dagger defensively towards the other Loki(OG), fully intending to protect you as your body tensed.

‘’what are you talking about?’’

‘’the multiverse.’’ They both said in unison.

That’s right.. now you remember.. Dr Strange must have accidently hit you instead of.. whoever you were fighting and must have sent you.. here? whatever universe you were stuck in now,.. you supposed this one had multiple Loki’s.

‘’not multiple love, but the same, in each stage of life brought together. Or at least… the two of us. The other’s in the other branches must not have been affected.’’ Loki(OG) explained, smirking as your eyes widened at the fact that he had read your mind.

‘’in our branch, there is a version of you, exactly how you are now. You disappeared.. I am here to take you back with me where you belong.’’ Loki said gently, as if his tone alone would convince you but the other Loki(OG) stepped closer.

‘’she belongs on my timeline- I will not lose her again’’ Loki(OG) snapped and they both starred each other down.

‘’I remember-‘’ you started, making them both look back at you. ‘’I was attacked in my apartment, some Hydra agents that Strange was tracking- something happened and I was accidently sent here to these.. to a different branch as you say..’’ you explained, getting why you were in your nightgown now. ‘’but that still doesn’t explain why I’m tied up-‘’

Loki(OG) chuckled, turning your attention over to him. ‘’you have a tendency to be a bit.. feisty when you awaken suddenly or are in foreign surroundings. it was a way to have you find yourself calmly.’’

‘’well in any case..’’ you said slowly, still trying to wake up from whatever dream.. nightmare- you still weren’t sure- this was. ‘’you both aren’t the Loki I know.. the one on my branch is quite different.. he and I didn’t become a thing until he was a bit older than.. I suppose how you are right now..’’ you explain slowly as you look towards the more.. casual dressed Loki. You felt your cheeks reddening at the subject, but you both didn’t become a thing until he was a part of the TVA. Before he dropped you to your branch..

They both looked at each other and tensed, but you knew they could tell you weren’t lying, and their expressions turned to disappointment.

‘’well, I suppose we should both begin our search then for the other version of yourself, you are clearly apart of a different branch.’’ Loki said quietly and slowly vanished his dagger, his body relaxing as the other did the same.

‘’or.. perhaps we could have a little fun with this..’’ Loki(OG) said in a quieter tone as his eyes dragged back to you, making your hands clench as you tried to unnoticeably pull your wrists against your restraints.

The other Loki was silent, having an unreadable expression like all the others as he looked to you as well. Somehow the room seemed to feel smaller, darker, or perhaps it felt that was when Loki(OG) found himself at your side, his thigh barely ghosting against yours as your eyes rose to meet his hungry gaze.

‘’take me home..’’ you said quietly, fear and nervousness of the unknown dripping off your voice as your thighs pressed together.

‘’we will my darling, we will..’’ he seemed to coo, dragging light finger tips against your cleavage, his eyes drinking any skin you had exposed before his slender digits ghosted upward, trailing a finger to trace your collarbone. ‘’we promise, we love you.. in all our branches, and you love us. You cant tell me you haven’t thought of the possibilities..’’ he dared as his hand trailed up your neck and grasped your jaw now so you were looking at him. ‘’magic has its ways, duplicates though can be it’s own.. erotic adventure..’’

Although you couldn’t move your head, you strained your eyes to look down as you felt a pair of hands gently rest at your bare knees, caressing the skin with long, cold digits and you knew it was the other Loki. He sank down to his knees before you, having no trouble prying your legs apart as your fingers gripped the arms of the chair.

‘’please…’’ you begged, barely a whisper as your heart rate picked up. You loved Loki, the one you were with back home.. you knew these two were also Loki.. but not? It all felt so strange, so much to wrap your head around and you felt Loki(OG) tilt your head up to look up at him again.

‘’calm that beautiful mind of yours love. We will take great care of you and will not force you into anything you wouldn’t enjoy’’ he whispered, sinking down on one kneel to your side and you felt the tip of his nose ghost against your neck as he inhaled. ‘’mm practically perfect in any universe..’’ he whispered..

‘’she feels perfectly the same as she did when I had her.. gods I’ve missed you..’’ Loki’s lips murmured as he began kissing the inside of your thigh by your knee and he slowly dragged his lips towards your center with open mouth kisses.

The other (OG)Loki’s hand left your jaw as you moved to look away from him, only to feel his fingers slowly glide up into your hair and pulled just enough to tilt your head back, making you whimper just slightly. Your breaths were short, eyes wide, and mind doing it’s best to think rather than to feel. Although, they were making it extremely difficult as you felt (OG)Loki’s tongue drag itself against your neck, sucking at your skin while his other hand ghosted over your breast.

You shamefully felt yourself arch every so slightly, catching yourself as you retreated but he was already smirking against your skin. ‘’do not deny the pleasures of this world darling, we do not know how long we have in its universe after all’’ he whispered and gently began massaging your breast.

Yoi felt yourself shiver, trying to strain your back from arching until the soreness made you give up and pushed more against his wicked hand. You felt the other Loki between your legs, having switched to your other thigh as he caressed it with his mouth. He had switched just before he had got to your center and you hated yourself for feeling disappointed.

‘’do not fret darling, I promise we will get there’’ he smirked up at you as his hands caressed your knees as his lips continued.

‘’s-stay out of my head..’’ you whimper, feeling (OG)Loki’s hand now raise and move itself under your nightgown to grope you properly, playing with our nipples as he alternated between your globes.

‘’as you wish darling, your body tells us just enough..’’ he whispered before spreading your legs wider and raised your nightgown ever so slightly to reveal black, lace panties.

‘’my my it was almost as if you were expecting something tonight’’ he smirked and his eyes flashed dangerously up at yours. ‘’I do hope that particular Dr didn’t see anything that didn’t belong to him..’’

You felt the other (OG)Loki’s grip in your hair tighten ever so slightly as he pinched your nipple, making a gasp leave your lips as you arch.

‘’even if he has, it would just be another reason to claim you. over.. and over.. and over again..’’ he whispered and began nibbling on your ear lobe, causing goosebumps to spring up upon your skin as he squeezed at your breast.

Another gasp left your mouth as you felt the flat of Loki’s tongue play against your center against the panties while his fingers slid up against your hips and gripped your underwear.

‘’as beautiful as they are, they have no use anymore’’ he smirked and pulled them down and they were history behind him as he spread you wide again.

Your heart pounded as you felt his breath against your center, teasing you at first as your legs shook. The other Loki(OG) pulled your shirt down, using the stretchy fabric to his advantage so he could place his mouth on your breast now. A moan left your mouth before you could think to silence yourself and you already knew they both were smirking as your cheeks reddened.

‘’that’s more like it darling...’’ Loki murmured before he gave you a long lick against your cunt.

A gasp left your lips as you head fell back, your arms straining against the binds as your pleasure already began to build. The tip of his tongue began teasing your clit, flicking and lapping against it while he took turns sucking as well.

Your body shook and your breaths were almost none existent until you forced yourself to breath periodically while he massaged your clit. Both had wicked tongues, giving you an overwhelming state of pleasure, there was too much to keep track of what was going on. Your eyes squeezed shut, allowing yourself to just feel and your lips parted with no words.

Loki(OG) flicked his tongue against your nipple, nibbling and sucking while making sure to give the other equal attention.

Your eyes fluttered open as you moaned, feeling his tongue plunge inside you, feeling how his moan vibrated your inside which only built more to your pleasure. Your arms strained, wanting so desperately to grasp his hair, to touch.. someone.. and feeling him smirk against your cunt, you didn’t even care if he read your mind or not.

Your eyes opened once more to find that Loki(OC) was now nose to nose with you, his lips ghosting yours as a hand remained playing with your chest while the other now returned to your jaw, his thumb brushing against your lip before opening your mouth slightly.

‘’you’re going to cum for us darling, right now’’ he murmured, pressing his lips to yours as he caressed your tongue with his, almost feeling like the same movement as the wicked tongue attacking your center.

You moaned in his mouth, leaning forward as much as possible as he grasped your hair and got tongue fucked by both your mouth and your cunt. It was to much and your center squeezed and fluttered just as he added his fingers to play with your cunt. Moaning shamelessly into (OG)Loki’s mouth as Loki drove his tongue into you, helping you ride it out as you spasmed and shook before having calmed down once their movements slowed down.

Panting, Loki(OG) smirked as he leaned up and brushed his lips to your forehead, the other wiping his face and licking his fingers, making your cheeks redden.

‘’we won’t stop until we find you love, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of new ideas once you return. Magic nearly makes anything possible. Perhaps your Loki could conjure up a few more’’ Loki(OG) smirked, winking as he stroked your cheek while you looked dick drunk even though they’ve used everything except cock. Just the idea made your eyes wonder and Loki gave a dangerous look while he leaned down to be nose to nose with you.

‘’I think we still have some time left before this Dr of yours finds you..’’

#loki x reader smut #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki smut #loki #loki fluff #lokifluff

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unsolvedjarin · 1 year

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Thinking about a kimi x fem! Driver! Reader who is basically the female version of Sebastian, where the fic is kimi and the reader doing a challenge for Ferraris channel, the reader being a bit of a know it all, and kimi just not caring

You can choose if it’s romantic or platonic:) thank you!

FERRARI AND CHINESE FOOD

pairing: (kimi raikkonen x ferrari driver! reader)

summary: ferrari has a sunshine driver and an iceman driver partake in a challenge for their youtube channel. thankfully, the sun can melt ice.

note: its 1am sorry i have no comprehensive thoughts this is a bit bad but have it anyways i am proud i made this with less than 5 hours of sleep. okay enjoy anon!!!!

content warning: my grammar at 1am

“Another one,” Kimi groans, throwing himself onto the couch in his room.

“Oh come on it’s not that bad,” you say with a grin, closing the door behind the both of you so no one could come in. You’re sure if Kimi had to talk to another person from the media he might explode. “Besides, this next one is the last one for today.”

“For today,” he emphasizes, groaning into a throw pillow once more. You’d both been doing media duties for Ferrari all day, and while it was tiring, you would say some of them had been fun and enjoyable. Although, evidently not for your teammate.

“Cheer up Kimi, it’ll be over soon,” you smile, sitting on the edge of the couch where he was laying down. You sigh, knowing the one thing that would get him to cooperate. “Dinner will be on me after.”

That grabs his attention, slightly pulling himself up and looking at you. “You mean that?”

“God you’re like a child I have to bribe,” you tease, yet with no malice. “Yes, I mean that.” You loved spending time with Kimi, and whenever there were media duties you both always had food afterwards. It was like a reward of sorts.

“Where d’ya wanna go?” Kimi mumbles, laying down on his side and resting his head on his hand. He was staring straight at you, waiting for a response. You think he looked pretty like this.

Smiling at him, you take your hand and run it through his hair softly, unable to help yourself. You would never normally do this, but you barely got moments alone during media week. Kimi grumbles but doesn’t stop you, you knew he always secretly liked it. “I dunno, what’re you up for?”

“Mmm…” he nuzzles into your hand a bit more, “Maybe chinese. I would enjoy some dumplings right now.”

“We can get Chinese then.”

Before you could have another moment of peace, however, a PR agent walked in the room to remind you that your next shoot was in ten minutes. You quickly pulled your hand away and Kimi sat up hastily, trying to fix up his hair. You give the agent an awkward thumbs up, hoping he got the message to leave.

“Okay, you’re right, this incessant filming is a bit tiring,” you say the second the door closes.

“Told you,” he simply replies. You pout in return, slumping your form beside him. He thought you looked so cute like this. Holding your cheek, he kisses your forehead, your nose, then your mouth, making you scrunch up your face. He chuckles, at least he made you feel a bit better.

“I should probably get ready for the shoot. You good here?” You ask, getting up from the couch. Kimi hums a yes, but doesn’t let go of your hand. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, Kimi, but you will have to let go of my hand so I can get to my room.”

He looks at you with puppy eyes for a second before reluctantly letting go, deciding to lay back down on the couch.

“You’re not gonna get ready?”

Kimi shakes his head, eyes already closed ready for a five minute nap. You scoff softly at him, before heading for the door. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he mumbles. Kimi was not a man of many words by any means, but he would always utter those back to you. Smiling to yourself, you shut the door and get ready for the shoot.

“So this is how the challenge goes: you have to compete with each other on who knows your fellow drivers and each other the best, and of course, most points win. You’ll write your answers on a whiteboard so there’ll be no cheating.” The interviewer behind the camera explains. You nod, giving her a signal that you were ready for them to start filming. Kimi sat beside you on a couch, his face not showing any emotions whatsoever. Looks like you would be doing the heavy lifting on this shoot today.

They snap the check in front of the camera, and the interviewer asks the first question. “Starting with something simple, who on the grid has the most wins?”

“Oh, easy.” you mumble, writing your answer down on your board. Kimi wrote his answer in silence, not talking even when he finished.

“Done?”

You nod, both you and Kimi showing your boards. Lewis Hamilton.

“Easy enough, next question! Who was Y/N’s idol growing up?”

“Aha! You should know this, I told you about it before!” you exclaim, poking Kimi. He grunts, “Not fair, she knows her own idol of course.”

“Sorry, the question wasn’t finished. For Y/N, who was Kimi's idol growing up?” The girl adds.

Oh. Your smile drops as you look to the man beside you who, for the first time in any of the shoots you did today, showed emotion by grinning wickedly at you. “You should get this, I told you about it before,” he teases, echoing your own words. You think for a second before writing down a guess of an answer.

“Time’s up! Can you both please show your boards.”

You reveal yours first, the words Ayrton Senna scribbled down on it. Looking at the man beside you for confirmation, he shakes his head.

“Awh no way! Who’s your idol then?”

Kimi shrugs his shoulders, not answering your question. He didn’t even give Ferrari an answer for that one. He looks at his own empty board for a second before jotting down an answer he’s sure is wrong, but he’s also sure as hell is funny.

Turning his board around, you see Kimi Raikkonen written down with a smiley face beside it. You snigger loudly before replying, “Sure it is bud. In your dreams, maybe.”

“Unfortunately, that is incorrect, Kimi.” The interviewer calls out.

“Go figure,” he mumbles wryly, making you grin even wider.

“No, his answer is correct.” You joke, trying to tease him even more. He gives you a look but you simply keep your sly grin. He decides to drop it, after all he at least made you smile. That in itself deserves a point.

The questions went on for a while, before they got to the harder ones. “Okay, amping it up a notch, who won the 1985 World Championship?”

“Woah, that escalated quickly,” you exclaim, pausing to think for a second.

So far the score was 4-1 for you and Kimi respectively, as he really wasn’t trying at all. You’re pretty sure he could’ve gotten the question about what year Fernando Alonso came into F1 right if he cared. Jotting your answer down to the current question, you see Kimi from your peripheral vision trying to take a peek of your board.

“Hey!” you smack him lightly with your board, “Cheater.”

He smirks, trying to block your second hit. “Wasn’t cheating.”

You continue writing your answer but this time hiding it from Kimi, keeping it as close to your chest as possible. He looks at you for a second as if planning something before going back to write on his own board. Well– he pretends to write something, but you can see him just drawing a star in the corner of his board.

“What’re you planning?” You mumble. Kimi simply shrugs his shoulders, but you can see the slight grin playing on his lips. Locking in your answer, you feel the couch shift slightly to your left. Kimi inched a little closer without you sensing it. He notices your side eye and realizes it’s now or never, and tries to tackle you to see your board.

You shriek, attempting to hide your board from him by sliding down the sofa, to no avail. Your reaction was too slow and he was already on your side of the couch. You were giggling helplessly at this point, unable to contain your joy. Opening your eyes that you didn’t notice you closed, you’re met with a large smile, your teammate proud of himself.

“Get off of me Raikkonen!” You exclaim, using his last name for emphasis. You try to shove him off but he stays solid slightly on top of you, still pretending to try and take a peek of your board. You knew he didn’t give a damn about those answers anymore.

“Say please,” he mutters, still smirking. You truly didn’t know what had gotten into him.

“Please get off of me, you bastard.”

In truth Kimi didn’t want to, he enjoyed seeing your face scrunch up under him with a laugh. He had forgotten about the cameras a long time ago– they weren’t important to him. He just liked seeing you smile. Still, he knew the faster they finished this challenge the faster he could get some alone time with you.

He finally concedes and moves back to his spot on the couch, fixing his hair and going back to writing his answer as if nothing happened. You sit up straight, fix your shirt, and do the same. The crew looked confused, feeling like they saw something that they shouldn’t have. You didn’t care, though. If anyone asked you would just say what you always did, that physical touch was your love language with friends. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, except for the fact that Kimi wasn’t just a friend.

The interviewer clears her throat before speaking up again, “Okay– uh– answers?”

“Prost, of course.” You answer with a smile. You loved studying the history of Formula One. Even though you couldn’t see, Kimi gave you the softest look he has in a while. He loved how you genuinely lit up whenever something you liked came up.

“And you, Kimi?” The interviewer asks, making the man snap out of his moment of adoration.

Kimi flips his board, a Lewis Hamilton written on it. The interviewer shakes her head but continues, “I’m sure that’s a gag answer b—”

“Is it?” Kimi butts in.

“I’m sorry?”

“Is it a gag answer?”

You shove Kimi softly on his side, “Don’t mess with her like that!”

He chuckles, before raising his hands in defeat. “Whatever you say.”

The rest of the game moves pretty quick, save for a quick argument between you and Kimi on what Sebastian’s favorite track was. As you both leave the set, you give Kimi a sneaky grin. “Bold move earlier.”

“Hmm?”

“Doing all that tackling in front of the camera. I thought you were the one who said we should be discreet. You definitely gave Ferrari a lot of bonus content. I’m sure they’ll cut it out though.”

“Ehh,” Kimi shrugs, not replying for a good while as you both walk out the Ferrari building and out into the night streets. You knew he was trying to find the right words, trying to figure out how to articulate his thoughts. It was part of the reason why he didn’t like talking so much.

Once outside he wraps his arms around you, a sign that he was finally back in the present and ready to talk. “I just wanted people to know, you know?”

“Know what? That you have a quarterback tackle?”

He chuckles at the recent memory before replying, “No, that I love you.”

You blush, hoping Kimi didn’t see it. He did. You carry on your conversation, “And how exactly did you plan to convey that message when they don’t even know we’re in a relationship?”

“Hey, Sebastian knows.” He argues.

“Seb hardly counts, he practically forced his way into figuring it out.”

Kimi shakes his head, his arms still around you. “And he walked into a room at the wrong time.”

His comment makes you laugh, a soft smile on your face as you turn to face him. “I love you, you know that?”

“Mhm. Love you too. Even if I don’t say it much.”

Your grin grows even larger, leaning up to kiss him. “You don’t have to say, I know.” He kissed you back, and he could feel your smile as he did. He thinks it’s crazy that he’s hidden such a blessing from the world. How you ever loved someone like him, he didn’t know, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Pulling away, he gives you a smile that only you get to see. The softest in the world, looking at you as if you were the world. He breaks eye contact to hold your hand, headed towards the chinese restaurant down the road. “Okay, now dumplings.”

#kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen x you #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 imagine #ferrari

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beaulesbian · 2 years

Text

one more thing about the teen wolf movie, because i’m still not over how bad it was, and i’m taking these few things i liked:

there’s no evidence which would say that derek and stiles aren’t communicating together, on the contrary. when i watched this scene:

“you should be calling your son”, it sounds like a thing derek says more often, - possibly hearing it from stiles, (for my headcanon part - it could be that stiles and his dad had some small argument and aren’t speaking to each other, or avoiding talking.)

And later we even see sheriff's phone, where it seems the past few days hes been in contact with derek and other people, but there’s no stiles -

and that’s why it would be funny to think derek has to listen to both of their sides of their whatever-disagreement,

stiles would be every time like, “he still hasnt called”, so derek could be telling sheriff hes tired of his shit and “can you just call your son? not any fbi agents but specifically your son? thanks, yeah he will be visiting next week, im not gonna say more, you both need to sort it out, at least for eli, so you dont argue in front of him”.

and another thing is the jeep, of course, the jeep.

which ofc, derek doesn’t hate it at all, and we find out in the end how much he doesn’t hate it.

(istill can’t believe this is a real line they said in the movie, but given what other things they’ve said and done in this movie, okay..)

this part in 4x1 is probably the last thing i watched and remembered from the plot, so i will take it as stiles’ decision to never abandon the jeep, and how much it means to him, even with whatever happened in the other two later seasons:

like, tell me stiles knew he wasn’t going to be around in the town for a while bc of his internship, so he left it at home, thinking it will just.. stay there.

but derek thought otherwise - he wanted to keep it running, to fix it.

it’s like this important thing, the jeep, that connects their family, and now it’s eli’s, and derek is still annoyed about it (because he’s alive), but also amused that really that car is eli’s favorite thing just like it was for stiles (and just like derek in that metaphor, it won’t stay down, it keeps running, because again, derek is alive in this version, and everyone is happy and okay. ♥)

#i hate this movie for making me care about them again.. but also they deserve so much better than this movie.. especially derek #sterek #teen wolf #my ramblings #teen wolf the movie #derek hale #stiles stilinski #eli hale #eli hale stilinski #sheriff stilinski #mine #long post #eternalsterek #teen wolf spoilers #i guess still just to be sure tho who even cares about whats canon and whats not

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peachsukii · 8 months

Text

Burn Out

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-hero au | engaged | aged to 23 | bakugo POV! ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

summary: Japan’s #4 Hero, Dynamight, is holding (forced by his agency) a meet and greet with fans - for the fifth time this year - by popular demand. The only difference? It’s three hours longer than the previous four. tags & warnings: fluff, soft bakugo, pro-hero bakugo, reader has a quirk & is also a pro hero, reader & bakugo are engaged! a/n: i thought the idea of reader waiting in line every time he has a meet and greet was such a cute gesture and relaxes him when he’s overwhelmed by fans :) ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,300 ꒱

“I really gotta do this shit for 4 hours?!”

“Sorry, Dynamight. It’s standard hours for meet and greets, plus you get the exposure to retain popularity amongst the public.”

God, what a fuckin’ joke.

How the hell does Deku do this all the time? I’m not a people person, end of story. I’ll sign shit and let them sell it, but actually meeting people? My goddamn nightmare. Especially the damn fan girls, they’re rabid fuckin’ animals. I hate when people only see me a piece of goddamn meat and not a top rated hero.

“Why are you still here?” This agency lady is really pissin’ me off. What the hell else does she want from me?

“Just going over the logistics. You’ll be hosting at a store in Shibuya Crossing from 1PM to 5PM tomorrow. You’ll be doing signatures on pre-approved official photos. We’ll meet at the agency at noon and you’ll get suited up.”

I hate these stupid publicity pricks.

“Can’t I just sign ‘em and you sell ‘em? I really gotta do it in person?”

“No can do, you know the process by now. The hours are just extended to allow as many fans access as we can.”

Why the fuck do fans need “access” to me? They don’t. I’ve got better shit to do.

“Whatever. See ya tomorrow.”

───

It’s almost 1PM and I’m already fuckin’ over being here. Nonstop “do this, not that,” “don’t take too long,” “don’t accept large gifts,” blah blah blah. It’s a damn signing, not a conference, I shouldn’t need to follow some stupid rule book.

“Before settling in for a grueling four goddamn hours, I gotta call my fiancé.”

“Make it fast, you’re set to start in 15.”

Was it an excuse to talk to her? Hell yeah it was. I didn’t need to call her for shit, I needed to get the hell away from that agency lady before I said shit I can’t take back.

Really wish she could sit here with me instead of with the agent with stick up her ass.

───

[y/n] Hey babe, what’s up? I thought your meet and greet was happening now? [Bakugo] Yeah, in 15 minutes. I needed to step out before I sit here for four fuckin’ hours. What are you up to? Sounds like you’re outside or somethin’. [y/n] Nothing really, grocery shopping and boring stuff. Are you nervous? [Bakugo] Me, nervous? Fuck no. I just don’t wanna be here for that long. It’s exhausting. [y/n] I don’t blame you, the last few were much shorter. Do you need me to bring you anything? [Bakugo] Even if you did, I don’t think they’d let me take it from ya. [y/n] That’s so annoying. It’s not like I’m a stranger. [Bakugo] Y’would think so. Fu-dammit, sorry baby, but I gotta cut ya short. This agency bitch has been breathin’ down my neck all week. [y/n] It’s alright. Make sure those fan girls don’t take all of you, I still want my share of the number 4 hero! [Bakugo] Hah, y’know you’re the only one who gets that. I’ll talk to you later baby, love you. [y/n] Love you too, good luck!

───

I. Am. So. Fucking. Tired.

If I hear another person screech over me just looking at them? I’m gonna lose my damn mind - and it’s only 2:30PM.

“Dynamight! You’re my favorite hero, thank you for signing this!”

At least most of the kids that showed up weren’t loud and annoyin’ brats.

“Thanks, appreciate th’ support.”

I’ve signed my name so many damn times that it’s starting to look like gibberish. They wouldn’t even let me use a stamp or some shit like that. Y’think that would appeal to their “access” plan if more people could come and go if it meant signing this shit faster.

───

3:45PM.

Fifteen. More. Minutes.

Exhausted is a goddamn understatement. I don’t wanna talk to anyone for the next 24 hours when this is over.

I’m grabbing the next poster from the agent, tunnel visioned on gettin’ the fuck outta here, when a familiar voice catches my attention.

“Hiya Dynamight!”

I can’t help but laugh. Did she really stand in line this whole time?

“The hell you doin’ here?”

She’s dressed head to toe in my merch - sweatshirt from the winter line, joggers from the athletic set, even her damn shoes are the limited release sneakers from the crossover line with Deku.

“Just supporting my favorite hero. I’d love if you could personalize my poster.”

God, I love this woman.

“Hah, y’got it.”

To my favorite hero, y/h/n, my shining star - love, dynamight

I slide it over the table to her and the look on her face is priceless. Her smile never fails to brighten my day, no matter how shitty it is. Really feels like no one else is here but her in the moment.

“This’ll be worth at least $50 online. Thanks!”

“Hey! That’s special, idiot.”

“I’m kidding, Ka-Dynamight.”

“Did ya wait in line this whole time?”

“I did! I wasn’t shopping earlier, I was in line for you. I wanted to support my soon-to-be husband.”

The high school girl behind her makes a face when she says “husband.” It’s not like our engagement is a damn secret. Can’t help but shoot her a dirty look, hoping she gets the “fuck off” memo.

“Dynamight, 5 minutes until we wrap.”

“Back off! It’s my damn fiancé. I’ll take as long as I want.”

All I wanna do is jump over this table, throw her over my shoulder and blast our way home. Dive onto the couch, crammed together against the cushions and pass the fuck out to the sound of TV static.

“It’s okay, I’ll let you go.”

She leans over the table to whisper, “I’ll see you at home, baby. Love you!”

I don’t really care who hears. I shouldn’t have to fuckin’ whisper to my soon-to-be wife in public.

“Love you too. Thanks, sweets. You’re the best.”

Fuck, her ass looks damn good in those joggers. I’ll never get tired of watching her walk away. The way she sways her hips when she walks is dangerous game for me.

“Alright, Dynamight. Last one.”

Thank fucking god.

“Hey, thanks for-”

“Was that your fiancé?”

These damn high school girls are such a pain in the ass.

“…yes. What of it?”

“Isn’t she, like, number 42 or something super low ranked?”

Not fallin’ for whatever shit she’s trying to pull. I sign the poster and slide it over to her, hoping she shuts the hell up and leaves.

“What, I can’t get a personalized photo like her?”

Well, she asked for it.

“Fine, give it back.”

number 42 and still better than you. fuck you - dynamight

I shove the poster back to her roughly on purpose, crinkling the edge against her stupid long claws-for-nails that were tapping impatiently on the table.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Learn some damn manners.”

I don't feel any remorse as the stupid agent starts scolding me for "mistreating fans." The brat had it comin', what can I say?

"I'm outta here. Later."

"Wait, Dynamight, you need to -"

"No, I don't. Not my problem. I'm done."

───

Finally, home sweet home. "Hey baby, I'm home."

"Hey Kats! Made you some early dinner on the stove and the blanket is nice and toasty for you."

When did she even have time to do that? It's only been 45 minutes.

"Damn, what are ya, superwoman?"

"Hah, I wish. Have you checked your phone yet?"

"...No, why?"

She laughs. "#dynamight is trending again. Somethin' about you signing 'fuck off' on a fan's poster?"

Oops.

"Yeah, well I -"

"Fuck her, she's lucky I didn't smack her upside the head."

And that's why I'm marrying her.

Just a cute little "Bakugo hates people" fluff lol

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #pro hero bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bnha #mha #katsuki bakugo #☆.rei writes

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toast-on-dandelioms · 1 month

Note

I could like to ask for a request it ok you don’t do it!

So I was thinking about Yandere Batfamily x MaleGojo reader like a reference from Gojo of JJK the same figure and the same goofy personality and charming personality like he was not their family or blood relative or anything they just fell really hard for M! Gojo reader for his personality and eyes like they even kidnapped him and they all fell for him since M! Gojo is between his 19-20s and he like dumb he just let it happen cause he like attention and he got a lot of ego so he just like “Meh I get free stuff and gifts and like in a mansion for free” even thought M! Gojo is really rich he just goofy.

Ok so, I am incredibly sorry it took me so long to write this, I never had the right idea until now but I hope you like it!

Dividers made by @thecutestgrotto and by @cafekitsune

Also I wrote this when I mostly didn't sleep so, whatever weird thing reader is thinking it's totally my fault but I am not apologizing for it.

The pronouns for the reader will be he/they, so if you don't like it, don't read it.

Wc: 6k

Fyi (my own warnings for yall): reader is an egomaniac, Bruce flirts with yall, inappropriate thinking from yall, I decided the ages please don't take them seriously, the ages are only used for this ask only,

Ages:

Bruce: 45 - Dick: 27 - Jason: 23 - Tim: 20 - Stephanie: 20 - Cass: 22–23 - Damian: 15/16 - Duke: 19

age of reader: 20

Tw: big age gap, Bruce Wayne, romantic yanderes (except Damian, he's a minor in this story), drugging and spiking food, mention of unwanted touch, inappropriate thinking, mention of death, mention of grooming and sex trafficking, MINORS PLEASE DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS ONE BECAUSE SOME THEMES MIGHT BE BAD,

You were a model. A symbol of beauty that people paid money to use to promote their products. People adored you thanks to your eyes, a blue so intense that even the rarest sapphire looked like a common one compared to your eyes. Well, it was thanks to your eyes that you were a model, they seemed to attract people. You were proud of your eyes and your face, you knew they were the reason why you were famous and you made sure to never ruin it. You were proud of being a male model. At least, that's what you felt before you went to Gotham.

You were in the car with your agent, Katelyn, who was still talking about things you weren't allowed to do in Gotham, which made you incredibly bored since that's what she all talked about ever since you accepted the job and was told to go to Gotham with Katelyn.

One thing that stuck to you from her annoying nagging, especially since she wouldn't stop talking, was that you weren't allowed to be near the billionaire Bruce Wayne, even though he was the one who hired you to be the star for his new products At least, that's what you remembered since you tuned out Katelyn's voice after 20 minutes of her talking.

You weren't sure why you weren't allowed near the billionaire but you didn't really care, from the photos you searched online of him you didn't see anything interesting so you decided that he wasn't worth your time. The only reason you chose to do this was the pay.

When you finally arrived at the hotel you immediately demanded a cocktail while waiting for Katelyn to check the two of you in the hotel.

As you waited near the bar in the hotel, you saw a few individuals who were trying to subtly stare at you, to which you didn't care since you were used to people staring. But, as you also looked at them with no shame whatsoever, you noticed that they were all wearing or using a Wayne product.

The oldest individual in the group was a man with pitch black hair and who was sitting on one of the many sofas in the lobby. For a few seconds, you could've mistaken him for the younger version of Bruce Wayne when he was, maybe, 25 or 26 years old. His wrist was decorated with a chunky watch that had seen increased sales after Bruce Wayne promoted it, which was probably how the man had heard of it. If you were to guess, the watch was probably one of the limited edition that not many people bought since only 10 were released of the special line. You knew that because you cried when you found out the watch was sold out and you weren't able to buy it.

The second oldest, another black haired man, who was leaning on a wall near the first man, with a weird white streak in his hair but was built like a soldier, especially with how muscular his arms were even though he was wearing a jacket, probably a leather one but you weren't sure since he was a bit far away.

You did know it was a Wayne jacket because you just saw that same leather jacket and design on the magazine you were reading on the plane while ignoring Katelyn and told her to order one since you wanted it.

Another man was next to the watch guy, which you almost didn't see until he suddenly appeared to try and grab a cup of coffee out of the watch guy’s hands.

You did see he was using a laptop, which made you a bit confused since you could see a W and also a D, but from some bits of Katelyn's lecture about Gotham’s rich people that you were listening to, you don't remember anything about the Wayne and Drake’s companies merging or a collaboration.

As you continued to stare at them while sipping on the cocktail you finally received, you noticed a kid, maybe a teen but you didn't really care, who was talking on the phone the entire time with an angry scowl on his face that made you wonder what angered such a young person.

Strangely enough, you did know who the kid/teen was. He was Damian Wayne, also nicknamed ‘Wayne’s poodle’ after you heard of his obsession with animals and how many he has in his Manor.

You gave him a quick glance, a bit surprised that he was the one openly staring at you before smiling at him, trying not to laugh when he looked away with a visible blush on his face.

After seeing Damian Wayne in the lobby, you were quick to assume that the other three men you looked at before were the other children of Bruce Wayne.

You set the cocktail on the bar and walked away to Katelyn, glad she was done and grabbed the key to your room before walking off, not caring about them being at your hotel.

You took the elevator to your room and came face to face with a blonde girl and an black haired asian. You politely smiled at them and stepped to the side so they could exit the elevator before entering it, quickly pressing the button to close it since you could feel the black haired girl stare on you the whole time.

While waiting in the elevator, you did wonder who all the people in the lobby were before shrugging and going back to playing on your phone, not caring about them anymore since they weren't important.

As you waited for the elevator to arrive at your floor, you suddenly felt it stop a few floors before yours, and when you looked up you saw an African American kid staring at you, his mouth slightly open.

You looked at him and chuckled softly at how surprised he was at seeing you, finding him cute since he kept stealing glances at you the whole time you were in the elevator.

You smiled when he glanced at you once again and finally said.

"Y'know if you were just going to stare, a picture will last longer dearest." You giggled, smiling softly as his skin went a dark shade of red.

"I- I wasn't staring-!" He stammered, the slight quiver in his voice giving him away.

"Mhm, so the wall behind me was just soooo interesting you had to keep looking right?" You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him as you crossed your arms.

The boy stared blankly at you for a solid few seconds. "....yes." He replied in a completely serious voice, which prompted a flurry of laughter from yourself.

You walked out the elevator when it finally reached your floor and winked at him when he looked at you, continuing to walk to your hotel room and finally changing, after entering the room, after hours of being on an airplane with Katelyn.

After adjusting to Gotham’s nightlife and also enjoying the city without any rogue attack, you finally walked in the WE building to do the photoshoot about whatever product you needed to advertise.

Did you care about the product? No but you just wanted to be paid so you didn't care.

As you walked inside the building with Katelyn next to you, needing her to know where to go and also to give the makeup crew a list of the makeup products that you were allergic to and a bag with substitutes if they didn't have any in hand.

You entered the elevator, completely ignoring Katelyn and her instructions and just waited to arrive on the floor where the photoshoot or whatever you needed to do was, playing a stupid game on your phone while waiting.

When you finally reached the floor, you followed Katelyn without saying anything, a small smirk on your face as you saw many people looking your way and staring.

You entered the photoshoot and ignored the other model, already annoyed since she wasn't as good as you but you could manage since your beauty was enough to make this session perfect.

As you entered your makeup station you completely disregarded the fact that the Bruce Wayne was standing near the station, not caring if he was staring since you knew why he was staring. I mean, who could blame you?

You were perfect and a symbol of beauty that so many people wanted for their own pleasure.

During the photoshoot you could hear people talking about the poses and what to edit in between photos, making you annoyed since you wanted everything to be perfect and your co-model was getting reprimanded most of the time.

You also noticed how Bruce kept staring at you the whole time you were in the photoshoot, making you wonder if he was interested in you before shrugging and going back to sippin on some water since you were on break after your co-model Mercy Jacques, yes he wants people to use both names, kept messing up and even destroyed a prop.

Time passed slowly while your annoyance kept growing before you finally gave up when Mercy Jacques accidentally dropped a heavy prop on your leg while doing a weird pose, making you incredibly angry when he didn't even apologize.

You got up and wanted to punch the man, not caring if it would create a scandal. No one could treat you like an inferior model when you were one of the best in the whole country.

As you prepared to punch him, someone suddenly grabbed your arm and held you from behind, completely stopping you from even trying to hit Mercy Jacques, making you even more angry.

"Calm down sweetheart, anger isn't a good look on you," a voice whispered against your ear, the person's gentle breathing making a shiver run down your spine.

You picked up the sound of movement and felt the hands clutching your waist loosen as the person came to stand by your side.

It was Bruce motherfucking Wayne.

"Mercy Jacques, I'm afraid we can no longer work with you. Please see yourself out." He said simply, the taught smile on his face was much too sinister for your liking.

You pulled away from his arms after Mercy Jacques was escorted out the room before looking at Bruce, a small smirk on your face before quickly acting like a damsel in distress from the prop that fell on your leg, a bruise was already forming which helped your act.

Were you doing this to get pity and also to make sure Mercy Jacques’s reputation would be in shambles? Also yes, you already knew Katelyn was making sure he would never find a job in Gotham.

She was good at ruining people's lives, that's why you kept her around even though her voice was incredibly annoying.

As you faked being incredibly hurt, you used Bruce’s closeness to lean onto him, secretly using the opportunity to feel the chest of the man and being a bit surprised at how muscular the man actually was.

Unfortunately for you, you didn't see how dark Bruce’s eyes got when you leaned on him and acted all hurt,

You pulled away when you heard Katelyn call for you and noticed her close to Bruce so you pulled away from him, a bit reluctant since you were still touching his chest and body with no shame whatsoever.

You turned to her and just made a motion with your hand to make her cut the session so you could go back to the hotel and relax in a nice bath and turned around to go to the makeup station so they could clean your face.

You barely managed to take even a step before you suddenly felt Bruce’s hand wrapping around and grabbing your wrist, which made you think of another body part he could wrap his hands around.

You looked at him with a half surprised half whatever dirty thing you could think about his hands before realizing he was talking and you completely ignored what he was saying to focus on his hands and how good they must feel on your body.

When you finally clocked in to listen to what he was saying, you just heard the last part.

“So, what do you think sweetheart?” he said, his voice was a deep baritone, the type of sound that would have anyone on their knees within seconds of meeting this man, which, in all honesty you would do everything if he called you that in that same voice.

Unfortunately, you couldn't just admit that you weren't listening to the richest man you knew, the man who hired you as his model so you just put on your best fake smile.

“That sounds amazing Bruce, can I call you Bruce?” you asked, a bit confused and almost panicked when the man stared at you in silence.

You almost cried when he finally laughed because you were scared as fuck that you somehow offended him by calling him by his first name and he was gonna kill you.

“I’ll pick you up at 7 at your hotel” was the last thing he said to you before walking off after patting your shoulder, making you almost kneel down since god damn his voice and smile was too much.

You waited until he was far away before immediately turning to Katelyn, who you knew was near and probably heard everything.

You quickly walked up to the poor innocent woman and grabbed her from her shoulders, your eyes staring right into her soul and seeing her deepest and darkest secrets before asking in a desperate tone “what the fuck did I just agree to?”

To which the woman sighed, already knowing you got distracted by the man and how hot he was in your eyes before finally telling you what you agreed to do. “You just agreed to go to dinner with Bruce Wayne, the man I told you to not interact with because of the type of scandals he might cause you if the two of you are seen together.” her voice sounded so annoyed but also resigned at the fact that you never listen to her.

You stayed silent when she started her usual rant about you needing to be more careful and knowing when to listen before noticing you were just looking into whatever was in front of you with a dreamy look on your face.

“OI Romeo! Stop day-dreaming and go get the makeup off! Your date is in 2 hours and I know you will go no matter what so at least let me pick the suit”

You immediately nodded and hugged her, kissing her on the forehead before running off to the makeup station in heels, making Katelyn wonder how you could do that since she couldn't even walk with normal heels.

It was almost 7 pm and you were finally finishing putting on some makeup, making sure your suit was the right colors so it could make you look gorgeous for this date.

Did you care that he was probably gonna use you as a one night stand? No, you were gonna use him to have a pleasurable night and also to make your friends back home jealous.

When it was finally 7 you quickly went to the lobby of the hotel, stopping when you noticed the same people in the lobby when you first arrived, who were all staring directly at you. (Except Damian)

It almost felt like you were standing nude before the people in the hotel, my body bare for their piercing gazes to lay upon. I've always felt absolutely secure in my body and looks, you knew you were hot and felt pride in knowing that. But their unwavering eyes still made you feel insecure, like they were scrutinizing every tiny detail about your appearance, making you feel like you were being criticized by your parents when you weren't the best at a photoshoot.

You shivered and quickly pulled your eyes away from them, trying your best to simply ignore the gazes that you could feel still stabbing into my back.

You smiled in relief when you saw Bruce arrive in a Lamborghini and you hurriedly ran outside, continuing to feel their gaze on your back as you reached the car at the same time Bruce was walking out of it.

You smiled at the older man and thanked him when he opened the door for you, sneakily glancing back to the hotel and seeing all those people staring at both you and Bruce.

You swiftly sat in the car and looked inside, amazed at how amazing the car was and didn't notice how Bruce looked back at the lobby of the hotel and smirked before walking around the car and driving off with you.

In the car you didn't say much and just looked at the road, sometimes stealing glances at Bruce and admiring his body in his suit, especially how his pants were perfect since they were tight enough to show his bulge.

God you so wanted to see him without those pants. You wanted to see all his body without his suit, wanting to feel how strong he actually was and if the rumors that you heard from other models about him being a god in bed were true.

You finally stopped imagining Bruce naked when he pulled up at one of the fanciest restaurants in Gotham where it's impossible to get a reservation there. Katelyn tried and you watched her cry when she failed, a smile on your face as you watched her tears ruin her makeup, enjoying her pain.

You got out of the car and gracefully grabbed Bruce’s hand, especially since you were wearing very high heels that made Katelyn make a weird face at how narrow the heel was but you didn't care.

The heels made the outfit perfect and also helped you be at the same height as Bruce, you refused to let that man have the upper hand with his height if you change it.

You walked inside the restaurant while holding onto Bruce’s arm, the classic fake smile on your face for any photographers who were near the restaurant and for the staff, even winking at the waiter who led you two to a secluded table.

You thanked the older man, who didn't look a day over 30, when he slightly pulled the chair out to help you sit down before pushing it near the table.

You were a bit surprised he got a reservation at this restaurant before scolding yourself mentally because he's a billionaire, he probably threw some money and got a reservation. You were now wondering who lost their reservation tonight to make space for Bruce Wayne.

As you sat down you smiled at the older man, knowing that he invited you here to flaunt his new catch and how he only wanted you because you were pretty and young.

Did you care? No, you were used to it and you were gonna use everything you had to go to bed with him and get paid for your silence afterwards. That's what always happened when a rich person was attracted to you and by now you started to use it for your own gain.

You were used to rich and powerful people being attracted and using their wealth to have you for a while, they only wanted a pretty thing and not you. You just knew that if you slept with them then you would get more modeling contracts and more publicity.

(TALK OF GR*PE AND OTHER BAD STUFF, SKIP IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT)

You think you were 11 when it started.

The exact date was hazy in your mind, you just knew that after spending an hour or two with a photographer, alone, that your parents told you was famous for not giving any models a break during photo shoots, was now giving you special treatment and kept touching you in weird places during the photoshoot.

You can still remember the agonizing pain in your arms from struggling against the man’s grip on your wrists to keep you still, the strain in your throat as you kept begging, pleading and downright crying while asking him to stop and to let you go back to your parents; you can still smell his horrible breath on your face when he told you to shut up before kissing you.

You were 12 when it developed into a weekly occurrence.

You could remember everything even though you wished you couldn't, you could still feel that man’s touch and hearing his laughter as your body was being used for his own pleasure against your own will.

12 years old and being forced into acts even adults would feel ill at the idea of. At the time you were rising in fame thanks to a few small roles in some shows and movies and alongside your modeling gigs that kept pouring in.

You were 14 when you told your parents for the first time.

You remembered the confusion and feeling ashamed when you told them about what happened, not understanding why they just told you that you did a good job and that doing that meant that the producer liked you and was going to give you more opportunities to make the world see your beauty.

You never understood why they didn't help you. Why your mother just looked at you with no emotion in her eyes as you cried when you told her what that man did before telling you to stop crying and that you had a photoshoot with that same man in two hours.

You could still feel the pats on your back that your father gave you when he saw how many modeling gigs you had been offered by that man and just told you to keep it up.

You were 15 when you began to give up on finding any help.

You slowly stopped telling your parents and just let the photographers, stylists and directors do what they wanted when you realized that your parents didn't care about you and just cared about the money you were making for them.

You were 16 when you stopped believing in finding help altogether.

You stopped trying to understand and just gave in the pressure that everyone kept putting on you. You created a mask from the pieces of your broken self and just kept going.

You stopped fighting, you stopped pleading for them to stop and just used their greed and lust for you as a way to advance in life. You knew it was wrong but you didn't care, no one ever taught you or told you what was right and what was wrong.

You were 17 when you learnt how to pretend you liked it.

You convinced both yourself and others that it was okay, the way you'd been treated for your adolescence. If you had no problem with it and tricked yourself into believing it was what you wanted, it wasn't wrong.

And it worked.

You pretended to enjoy it. You pretended to adore the fame and money you got from what you did. You pretended to smile happily at your parents as they told you there was another meeting you had with the director later that day. You pretended to look forward to those meetings.

You pretended so much you forgot how not to. Your personality, likes, interests, everything about you was completely fake. But the world is easily swayed by fakeness if it's decorated with rhinestones and glittery gowns.

Like a mannequin in a boutique window, beautifully dressed in high-end clothing, with jewelry adorning the delicate neck of the faceless creature. Thousands of eyes gaze upon the mannequin, almost as if they're awaiting its demise.

(no more talk about gr*ape for now, will inform if there's another)

As the night progressed you noticed how Bruce never made any comments about your body or what you could do for him, making you a bit frustrated since you knew he was attracted to you.

You saw how he looked at you, you felt his eyes linger down when you walked beside him. You weren't oblivious of it. You knew what he wanted but you hated how he kept asking you questions about your life and hobbies.

Why was he actually so interested in you?! He’s just another old man wanting to flaunt to his rich friends that he fucked a model so why is he doing all this?!

You kept drinking wine and starting to act drunk, thinking that maybe he was one of those old men that would use you when you were intoxicated and then manipulate you into thinking that you also wanted it.

Plus, no one knows it thanks to your influence in the media, but you weren't a lightweight. You trained yourself to act drunk after two glasses of wine so that people would never know that you were an easy person.

After the waiter brought the check and left you were fuming and got too tired to act like you were interested in him after a whole dinner with him not insinuating anything that you should do for him.

You got up, the chair screeching as it suddenly moved, and glared at him, too angry to keep acting like your stupid ass self that is too focused on their fame and ego to care about others.

“...how many mind games are you going to play” - you pointed a finger right to his face, your voice shaky from frustration and anger -“huh? How many TİLL YOU SLEEP WİTH ME?! I know what you want! Everyone I ever met that wanted to go to dinner with me always wanted the same thing! Answer me!! And don't you dare waste my time!”

You kept glaring at him before feeling a tiny prick on your neck and before you could look you started to feel drowsy, like when your parents used to give you a glass of water that tasted weird when you were younger.

You pointed a finger at him before mumbling out a “you sick fucker, you could've told me you wanted to do it with me sleeping” and then collapsing on the floor, your fall being stopped by Bruce.

Bruce: he has always been interested in you after he saw you at your first big runway after you turned 18 and was finally free of your parents control.

He saw you walking on the big stage, your hair all messy in the wildest haircut possible that he guessed you did, complete with a wild outfit and the wildest makeup he ever saw.

He forgot what the theme of the show was because he only remembered you and how, even while wearing rags and looking like you just went through the most heartbreaking breakup, you looked like the most beautiful man he ever saw in his life.

After that day he just kept going to whatever event you were also in and enjoyed watching you from afar, he even had a full room in the Manor ready for you after he heard you talk about the perfect bedroom to relax but also have stuff to do so you could still be productive.

Next to that same room there was the room filled with almost every photo, magazine clips and whatever he could find about you plastered on the walls.

He slowly became more obsessed with each day that passed that he wasn't with you, his love for you growing into an unhealthy obsession that he actually sent people to spy and take care of you in your company while also finding out everything about your past as a child model.

He did ruin the lives of every director, photographer and almost every person in the modeling industry who used you in a sexual manner after he did some digging since he needed to know everything about you, wanting to be the perfect husband for you when he will finally marry you.

Even though he never talked to you and was double your age, he didn't care. He wanted you.

(Everyone’s obsession for you starts when you turn 18, if you got confused sorry)

Richard/Dick: he was the first one who got influenced by Bruce’s obsession with you after just 3 months since he was living at the Manor during that time because there was a case that he couldn't crack and was using the batcomputer to find some more clues.

He accidentally walked in on Bruce admiring one of the many runways that the older man registered and just watched from the doorway as the TV played in the background, staring at how beautiful you looked while walking, staring directly into the camera and in Dick’s soul.

After that day he started to research on his own and eventually stumbled into Bruce’s obsession room about you and didn't feel disgusted or weirded out when he saw all the photos and magazines photos about you and didn’t feel connected to Bruce when he realised that he and the old man shared an obsession.

No, he felt jealous at how it was Bruce that first found you and not him. Bruce had the privilege of having you for himself before he found you and he hated that.

But he also managed to one up Bruce by being the first of the two to get a photo with you after disguising himself as a waiter during a gala, especially because he knew the man flew to the city where the gala was held just to see you, even if you were with an old guy who looked like he could be your grandfather.

Did he rub it in Bruce’s face right after, especially when he knew the man was there and especially when he knew that the man still didn't approach you because he didn't know every single thing about you? Yes, yes he did and he did it with pride since he managed to one up Bruce.

He also killed the man before going back to Gotham with his old man,making sure that old bastard suffered through every moment and felt everything, especially when Dick started to slowly break his fingers, making sure he broke them so much that the man would never be able to use them even after surgery and therapy.

Plus he wouldn’t need to use them given that Dick killed him at the end by strangling him as he insulted him, making sure the man could see his face filled with joy as he was strangling him.

Jason: he found out about this when he was at the Manor with Tim and Duke since the three were working on the same case given that Duke found some thugs using weird alien technology while robbing a bank that unfortunately got destroyed during the fight.

Tim got involved because he saw a gang fight that were using similar weapons thanks to Duke’s descriptions and to Barbara given the fact that she provided video evidence that perfectly showed the weapons during the fight. Unfortunately, Tim couldn’t retrieve the weapons because the gangsters spread out during the chase but he managed to capture a few for questioning where he found out that the next shipment of those weapons was gonna happen in a few nights in some part of Crime Alley, to which he asked Jason for help.

That day the three were at the Manor to see if they could find more information via the remnants of the weapons Duke brought from the first fight and were witnesses of Dick taunting Bruce with the photo while wearing a shirt with the photo of him and you right in the middle of it.

Thanks to it and the fact that Bruce looked so angry and and on the bring of punching Dick in the face that the three got to work on finding out what was happening and immediately falling in love with you during their research. (They also stopped the thugs)

Jason, at first, was surprised at how long you’ve been working in the modelling industry before starting to dig about your past and when he found out about what your parents and what all those directors and photographers did to you he was enraged since he knew what it felt like having adults you trusted use you.

He quickly went to Bruce and just told him that he wouldn't be available for a few days before leaving and after he came back the news started to talk about all those people missing and some who were found dead with a letter written with all their crimes, alongside a usb filled with video evidence of their crimes that immediately got uploaded to the internet after an hour of getting found thanks to Tim.

He did hurt your parents and almost killed them but spared them, unsure if you actually hated them so he just made sure they would be stuck in the hospital for a long while.

Tim: (you already know how Tim and Duke know about you so I'll skip it).

Tim was surprised when he found out about you because of how obsessed Dick and Bruce were about you. But he also did his own research where he then shared it with Duke since the guy was also curious about you and he couldn't hide it from him.

As he studied you and your past, like everyone else, he found himself more interested in how you stayed so strong after everything that happened.

He also helped Jason in his revenge week and made sure all the evidence about those people wouldn't get deleted by hackers or the modelling industry.

He didn't understand why he felt so close to you but after a bit of research and also with Duke continuing to point out how similar you and Tim were he started to understand.

You were a trophy kid for your parents. Your parents had you and mostly used you as a way to make themselves look better when you became incredibly famous as a child model.

They didn't care about you and they only gave you actual attention when they needed to show how good of a parent they were for the public.

And that's what he experienced with his own parents and he knew what it felt like. But the only difference between the two of you is that Tim was neglected but didn't get used for money since he was a billionaire child while you got used to your parent’s greed.

Duke: (you know, I know, we all know)

He was one of the most sceptical to fall in love with you because he didn't feel an immediate connection with you like it happened with Dick, Bruce, Tim and Jason.

Even after knowing about what happened to you he still didn't feel anything and he felt wrong because he saw everyone getting obsessed with you while he just thought you were attractive but didn't feel like the others.

After a year he finally met you thanks to a gala he went to with Bruce without the others since they already ‘met’ you by being creeps.

That gala was the start of his obsession with you.

You were ethereal and wearing one of the most beautiful white suits that he ever saw, he actually thought you were an angel at first as you slowly walked down the stairs in 4 inch heels thanks to Barbara’s telling him via comms.

After a bit of him watching you from away he finally mustered enough courage to walk up to you and ask for your autograph and you were so nice to him.

Like you didn't ignore him or act annoyed, you actually talked with him as you signed what he wanted and joked a bit about some runways you did that he loved.

And after that day he was hooked, he couldn't get enough of you that he actually beg Bruce, on his knees, to send him to any gala if you were gonna be there, even though you didn't really go to many galas unless it was something that made you interested, which was difficult to understand and use for their own gain.

But he made sure to brag about it since he had video footage thanks to Barbara.

_______________________________

I am done and I won't do the others because I don't want to sound repetitive for y'all. Please don't ask about the others though.

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holylulusworld · 2 months

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Caught Cold - Alternative Version (2)

Summary: Something goes wrong on your latest mission.

Ship/Main Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Read the alternative version here: Caught Cold.

Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of sex pollen, fluff, awkwardness

Catch up here: Caught Cold - Alternative version

The flight back to the tower is excruciatingly awkward. No one looks your way, and no one dares to say a word. Usually, you’d celebrate a successful mission, or crack not-funny jokes.

It’s bad enough that Bucky lost control and mated you like a wild animal. Tony and Steve walking in on you was the worst-case scenario.

How can you forget that two of the men you admire the most watched you and their friend Avenger mate?

“So—” Steve clears his throat. He tries to find the right words to apologize for not stopping his friend from mating you. “I’m sorry about the problems with the earpieces, Agent. I didn’t hear you called for backup.”

You snort. A broken earpiece is the least of your problems. You just had unprotected sex with your supervisor, and he claimed you. All the while he was under the influence of a strange toxin.

“Sex pollen, a hell of a ride, huh?” Tony cackles watching you and Bucky stare on the ground. Heat creeps into your cheek remembering the way you were writhing on Bucky’s cock. “So…are we having a Buckethead baby soon?”

“First and final warning, Stark,” Bucky lifts his head to glare at Tony. He’s ashamed of his doings and hates himself for being unable to fight the sex pollen. “She went through enough.”

“You mean she ended up impaled on your—” Tony ends up on the ground, his cheek swollen and bruised. “What the fuck!”

“I told you,” Bucky raises his fist again, a not-so-silent threat, “stop making things worse for Y/N. It’s all my fault. If you want to make fun of someone, look for a better target. Leave my omega alone!”

You whimper when Bucky roughly takes off his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders. He looks you all over, clumsily patting your hair before he sits next to you.

His scent and the warmth of his jacket calm you. You close your eyes and inhale his scent deeply. If only you didn’t drop the vial with the pollen. Everything has changed, and you don’t know what will happen now.

Can you still be an agent? Will Bucky force you into submission? What if he rejects you now? He claimed you while being high on sex pollen. There is nothing you can do if he decides to break the bond.

“Everything is going to be alright,” Bucky suddenly takes your hand to hold it in his hands. “We will talk about everything after we land.”

“Young love,” Tony snickers. His cheek is swollen, but he didn’t lose his sense of humor. “Huh, Capsicle. Why don’t you grab a dose of sex pollen yourself?”

“Tony, that’s not funny,” Steve grunts. “Why would I want to use this devious toxin to force myself on an omega?”

Bucky flinches at Steve’s words. He feels guilt gnawing at his soul. Today, he added another sin to his long list.

“He didn’t force himself on me,” you murmur and lean your head against Bucky’s shoulder. The sex pollen would’ve killed him. We had sex to help him survive. Live with it.” You glare at Tony. He opens his mouth but snaps it shut.

“We are about to land in fifteen,” Bruce calls from the pilot seat. He didn’t dare to ask what happened in the abandoned building. The sharp man didn’t have to ask. “Please fasten your seatbelt.”

You laugh at Bruce's seriousness. This whole situation feels surreal.

Who would have thought you’d end up with Bucky’s claiming mark?

“Uh—this is the bedroom, and there is the bathroom,” Bucky explains while guiding you around his apartment at the tower. You don’t tell him that his place is similar to yours. “There’s a kitchenette and you already saw the living room.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but why are you showing me your place?” You wrinkle your forehead.

“You’re my omega, and we will move in together.” He nods to himself before placing his on the small of your back to lead you back into the living room. “If we decide to have pups, we can have a bigger home. A house maybe.”

“Whoa, slow down,” you twirl around to place your hands on his chest. For a moment you allow yourself to feel Bucky up. Hands running over his chest you look at Bucky, really look at him. “We—we…”

“We mated,” he ends your line. “You’re my omega, and I will be a good alpha and take care of you. I claimed you.”

“The drugs…the sex pollen,” you sigh when he places his index finger on your lips to silence you.

“It doesn’t matter, Y/N,” Bucky murmurs. “You know that you’re meant to be mine.” He dips his head to steal a kiss. He whispers your name and wraps his arms around you. “Steve will help me get your things. You can get comfortable while we bring everything here.”

“You’re working fast.”

He grins. “I do.” Bucky wiggles his eyebrows. “This way I tamed a cocky omega and made her mine.”

“Dream on,” you giggle, relieved Bucky doesn’t regret his claim.

“Oh, daydreaming is over,” he purrs low in his throat. “I got the real thing now…”

“I’m still unsure this was the right thing to do.” Bruce shakes his head at Steve. “What if he regrets his claim one day?”

“Bucky was pining over her for months. I had to force him to make a move before that new agent got the chance to ask her out,” Steve casually says while deleting the footage of your latest mission. “He wanted to claim her, and Y/N wanted Bucky to become her alpha. We did nothing wrong…”

“You only made her believe she dropped a vial with sex pollen when in truth you rubbed it into Bucky’s tactical suit.”

“The end justifies the means,” Steve says before walking away.

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #alpha!bucky barnes #a/b/o #bucky barnes fanfiction #a/b/o dynamics

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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'We buy ugly houses' is code for 'we steal vulnerable peoples' homes'

Tonight (May 11) at 7PM, I’m in CALGARY for Wordfest, with my novel Red Team Blues; I’ll be hosted by Peter Hemminger at the Memorial Park Library, 2nd Floor.

Home ownership is the American dream: not only do you get a place to live, free from the high-handed dictates of a landlord, but you also get an asset that appreciates, building intergenerational wealth while you sleep — literally.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/11/ugly-houses-ugly-truth/#homevestor

Of course, you can’t have it both ways. If your house is an asset you use to cover falling wages, rising health care costs, spiraling college tuition and paper-thin support for eldercare, then it can’t be a place you live. It’s gonna be an asset you sell — or at the very least, borrow so heavily against that you are in constant risk of losing it.

This is the contradiction at the heart of the American dream: when America turned its back on organized labor as an engine for creating prosperity and embraced property speculation, it set itself on the road to serfdom — a world where the roof over your head is also your piggy bank, destined to be smashed open to cover the rising costs that an organized labor movement would have fought:

https://gen.medium.com/the-rents-too-damned-high-520f958d5ec5

Today, we’re hit the end of the road for the post-war (unevenly, racially segregated) shared prosperity that made it seem, briefly, that everyone could get rich by owning a house, living in it, then selling it to everybody else. Now that the game is ending, the winners are cashing in their chips:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom-bfad6f3b35a9

The big con of home ownership is proceeding smartly on schedulee. First, you let the mark win a little, so they go all in on the scam. Then you take it all back. Obama’s tolerance of bank sleze after the Great Financial Crisis kicked off the modern era of corporations and grifters stealing Americans’ out from under them, forging deeds in robosigning mills:

https://www.marketwatch.com/story/us-breaks-down-93-bln-robo-signing-settlement-2013-02-28

The thefts never stopped. Today on Propublica, by Anjeanette Damon, Byard Duncan and Mollie Simon bring a horrifying, brilliantly reported account of the rampant, bottomless scams of Homevestors, AKA We Buy Ugly Houses, AKA “the #1 homebuyer in the USA”:

https://www.propublica.org/article/ugly-truth-behind-we-buy-ugly-houses

Homevestors — an army of the hedge fund Bayview Asset Management — claims a public mission: to bail out homeowners sitting on unsellable houses with all-cash deals. The company’s franchisees — 1,150 of them in 48 states — then sprinkle pixie dust and secret sauce on these “ugly houses” and sell them at a profit.

But Propublica’s investigation — which relied on whistleblowers, company veterans, court records and interviews with victims — tells a very different story. The Homevestor they discovered is a predator that steals houses out from under elderly people, disabled people, people struggling with mental illness and other vulnerable people. It’s a company whose agents have a powerful, well-polished playbook that stops family members from halting the transfers the company’s high-pressure salespeople set in motion.

Propublica reveals homeowners with advanced dementia who signed their shaky signatures to transfers that same their homes sold out from under them for a fraction of their market value. They show how Homevestor targets neighborhoods struck by hurricanes, or whose owners are recently divorced, or sick. One whistleblower tells of how the company uses the surveillance advertising industry to locate elderly people who’ve broken a hip: “a 60-day countdown to death — and, possibly, a deal.” The company’s mobile ads are geofenced to target people near hospitals and rehab hospitals, in hopes of finding desperate sellers who need to liquidate homes so that Medicaid will cover their medical expenses.

The sales pitches are relentless. One of Homevestor’s targets was a Texas woman whose father had recently been murdered. As she grieved, they blanketed her in pitches to sell her father’s house until “checking her mail became a traumatic experience.”

Real-estate brokers are bound by strict regulations, but not house flippers like Homevestors. Likewise, salespeople who pitch other high-ticket items, from securities to plane tickets — are required to offer buyers a cooling-off period during which they can reconsider their purchases. By contrast, Homevestors’ franchisees are well-versed in “muddying the title” to houses after the contract is signed, filing paperwork that makes it all but impossible for sellers to withdraw from the sale.

This produces a litany of ghastly horror-stories: homeowners who end up living in their trucks after they were pressured into a lowball sales; sellers who end up dying in hospital beds haunted by the trick that cost them their homes. One woman who struggled with hoarding was tricked into selling her house by false claims that the city would evict her because of her hoarding. A widow was tricked into signing away the deed to her late husband’s house by the lie that she could do so despite not being on the deed. One seller was tricked into signing a document he believed to be a home equity loan application, only to discover he had sold his house at a huge discount on its market value. An Arizona woman was tricked into selling her dead mother’s house through the lie that the house would have to be torn down and the lot redeveloped; the Homevestor franchisee then flipped the house for 5,500% of the sale-price.

The company vigorously denies these claims. They say that most people who do business with Homevestors are happy with the outcome; in support of this claim, they cite internal surveys of their own customers that produce a 96% approval rating.

When confronted with the specifics, the company blamed rogue franchisees. But Propublica obtained training materials and other internal documents that show that the problem is widespread and endemic to Homevestors’ business. Propublica discovered that at least eight franchisees who engaged in conduct the company said it “didn’t tolerate” had been awarded prizes by the company for their business acumen.

Franchisees are on the hook for massive recurring fees and face constant pressure from corporate auditors to close sales. To make those sales, franchisees turn to Homevana’s training materials, which are rife with predatory tactics. One document counsels franchisees that “pain is always a form of motivation.” What kind of pain? Lost jobs, looming foreclosure or a child in need of surgery.

A former franchisee explained how this is put into practice in the field: he encountered a seller who needed to sell quickly so he could join his dying mother who had just entered a hospice 1,400 miles away. The seller didn’t want to sell the house; they wanted to “get to Colorado to see their dying mother.”

These same training materials warn franchisees that they must not deal with sellers who are “subject to a guardianship or has a mental capacity that is diminished to the point that the person does not understand the value of the property,” but Propublica’s investigation discovered “a pattern of disregard” for this rule. For example, there was the 2020 incident in which a 78-year-old Atlanta man sold his house to a Homevestors franchisee for half its sale price. The seller was later shown to be “unable to write a sentence or name the year, season, date or month.”

The company tried to pin the blame for all this on bad eggs among its franchisees. But Propublica found that some of the company’s most egregious offenders were celebrated and tolerated before and after they were convicted of felonies related to their conduct on behalf of the company. For example, Hi-Land Properties is a five-time winner of Homevestors’ National Franchise of the Year prize. The owner was praised by the CEO as “loyal, hardworking franchisee who has well represented our national brand, best practices and values.”

This same franchisee had “filed two dozen breach of contract lawsuits since 2016 and clouded titles on more than 300 properties by recording notices of a sales contract.” Hi-Land “sued an elderly man so incapacitated by illness he couldn’t leave his house.”

Another franchisee, Patriot Holdings, uses the courts aggressively to stop families of vulnerable people from canceling deals their relatives signed. Patriot Holdings’ co-owner, Cory Evans, eventually pleaded guilty to to two felonies, attempted grand theft of real property. He had to drop his lawsuits against buyers, and make restitution.

According to Homevestors’ internal policies, Patriot’s franchise should have been canceled. But Homevestors allowed Patriot to stay in business after Cory Evans took his name off the business, leaving his brothers and other partners to run it. Nominally, Cory Evans was out of the picture, but well after that date, internal Homevestors included Evans in an award it gave to Patriot, commemorating its sales (Homevestors claims this was an error).

Propublica’s reporters sought comment from Homevestors and its franchisees about this story. The company hired “a former FBI spokesperson who specializes in ‘crisis and special situations’ and ‘reputation management’ and funnelled future questions through him.”

Internally, company leadership scrambled to control the news. The company convened a webinar in April with all 1,150 franchisees to lay out its strategy. Company CEO David Hicks explained the company’s plan to “bury” the Propublica article with “‘strategic ad buys on social and web pages’ and ‘SEO content to minimize visibility.’”

https://www.propublica.org/article/homevestors-aims-to-bury-propublica-reporting

Franchisees were warned not to click links to the story because they “might improve its internet search ranking.”

Even as the company sought to “bury” the story and stonewalled Propublica, they cleaned house, instituting new procedures and taking action against franchisees identified in Propublica’s article. “Clouding titles” is now prohibited. Suing sellers for breach of contract is “discouraged.” Deals with seniors “should always involve family, attorneys or other guardians.”

During the webinar, franchisees “pushed back on the changes, claiming they could hurt business.”

If you’ve had experience with hard-sell house-flippers, Propublica wants to know: “If you’ve had experience with a company or buyer promising fast cash for homes, our reporting team wants to hear about it.”

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A Depression-era photo of a dour widow standing in front of a dilapidated cabin. Next to her is Ug, the caveman mascot for Homevestors, smiling and pointing at her. Behind her is a 'We buy ugly houses' sign.

Image: Homevestors https://www.homevestors.com/

Fair use: https://www.eff.org/issues/intellectual-property

#pluralistic #the rents too damned high #house flipping #llc brain #scams #elder abuse #ripoffs #weaponized shelter #predators #homevestors #we buy ugly houses #ugly houses #real estate #propublica

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