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omgfangirlland · 2 months ago

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The Shadows That Nurture 22

Batsis is slowly turning feral, but that's hot 😩 Also, in ch 24(maybe ch 25 if 24 gets too long) Bruce is about to get what he deserves :) I just wanted y'all to know because I'm so happy with the plot line for it and I'm bitting at the bars of my enclosure to not spoil more than that.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 22 >>next

Your week has been shit. From finding out the other Guardians almost got wiped out, again, to the Immortal almost breaking down twice, due to finding out about Kate and about Nolan- granted, that one turned out okay- well, as okay as it could considering he’s been crashing on your couch for about three days. The only win you had was Nolan writing down everything that could hurt the Viltrumites and how and where to find these things.

And then you found out Damian and Talia had been lying to you. From a Celebrity Gossip TV show while yapping with the Immortal. You joined his emotional support blanket that night and have been avoiding Talia and Damian since. You couldn’t face them. You knew you should- you wanted answers- but what other reason would there be for Wayne’s youngest to be here other than to find dirt on you and your family or to just make fun of you? They didn't like you. Why would he?

And fuck, did it hurt. Seeing Bruce carry the boy from the time he got in the family to even now when you almost crashed to your knees to beg for a drop of that attention so many times. It only made you realize that he never actually had it in him to care for you. It was never about you not being good enough or him not having enough love to give around, Bruce just didn’t want to give you any of the plenty of love he did have.

“We need to talk.” Your body tensed at the voice you heard, hands clenching at your side. You just wanted to do your job. Damian barely blinked before he was lifted high in the air, his ears clogged due to the sudden altitude change. “You want to talk?” His sister hissed, her hands holding him up by his jacket. “Fine. Let’s talk. Why the fuck are you here? What does Bruce want now?”

“You found out…” His dumbfounded expression and Cecil yelling in your earpiece only raised your anger, their voices mixing into a cacophony as they both spoke, Damian trying to explain himself, doing an awful job at it, while the old man was trying to coax you to discuss stuff on the ground. “You want me to put him down, Cecil? Fine.” You let go of Damian, letting him fall for a few seconds. “You’re forgetting, Cecil. You need me, not the other way around. Act like it.” The earpiece went into your pocket before you grabbed the teen again.

You weren't really angry at the old man, you were more angry at Damian looking so surprised at the fact that you knew. Like he thought you were that stupid. “Of course I found out- forget it. I want you out of my city, and while at it- keep your siblings and father on a tight fucking leash.” A warm hand on your shoulder stopped you from speaking, your head snapping towards the owner only to see Nolan with a shirt covering his face and, a little behind him, the Immortal. “So this is the Damian Wayne, huh?” The boy glared at the man. “How about we talk over some lunch?” You scoff at the man. “Over lunch?! Are you fucking-“

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and the Immortal were seated on one side of the table. Oliver, who usually sat with your parents, sat between you two, while Damian took the baby's place between Nolan and Debbie. They were trying to placate you with your baby brother. Traitors.

Nolan has been staring at the teen for a while now, while your glare didn’t seem to leave your plate. “You know, once I was invited to a rich people party- they had fried these robins.” The older man started, a gleeful tone. “They were quite the delicacy.” You and Damian looked at the man with disgust.

“Nolan.” Debbie glared at him. “Ew, first of all, aren’t they like no meat?” you grimace at the thought. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Nolan just shrugs, eyes staring into the teen’s soul. “The crunch of the bones was the best part.”

“…Is this about him being Robin and Bruce being Batman?” Everyone stared at you wide-eyed. “Yeah- I found out. No thanks to any of you.” You grumble. “So. I’m here to be threatened into silence?” Damian’s question was met with a resounding yes and a quick no from Debbie. “He’s a child- we’re – We can’t threaten a kid.” Your mother was sadly outvoted.

“You lied to me. You and Talia. I don’t care if mom wants to remain friends with her, but I better not see either of you again.” The Immortal softly said your name, trying to calm you down. “No- I let them both near my mom and my brother, thinking they were who they said they are!” Your head turns to Damian. “You could have told me the truth- I would have respected you for having the balls to do so. But to send your mom to spy on me, on my family, and then for you both to lie straight to my face-“ You take a deep breath in, shaking your head.

“Fuck this. I don’t want to see you or your mom again.” You get up, sneering and grumbling. “Oh- I’ll be busy tonight, by the way. Don’t wait up.” You informed the others and left.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Mark, listen to me. Say you'll do it.” Mark could hear Cecil talking in his ear, telling him to say that he will. “You can't beat her, kid. Say it. Get her to leave, and we'll get ready for these assholes together.” Mark just glared at Anissa. “Hell no.”

The punch he threw was strong enough to make the woman fly a few feet away, but it was also strong enough to break his hand. “My sister gave you a warning. Nobody may believe her when she says she can eliminate you all- but I’ve seen what she’s capable of.” The young man fixes his posture, standing tall.

“When she finds out you’ve gone against her warning, she’ll find you.” He gave a bloody, toothy smile. “And she’ll kill you without mercy, just like a true Viltrumite.” Mark’s growled words were followed by a lunge, getting back into the fight. Cecil could only watch the fight with shaking hands, face blank, and Mark’s words repeating in his mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Once the sun set, you were quick on going off planet, going to search for the Justice League space station. Well… You tried to, but Jon caught up with you before you could break through the clouds. “Kid-“ You sigh when he blocks your path as you try to fly around him. “Please, just hear me out-“

“I know you and the other Waynes aren’t on the best terms, but Bruce didn’t even know Damian was here to see you! We both lied to him-“ You scoff at the boy. “And then you both and Talia lied to me. How nice. Good job. Now, if you excuse me-“ Jon latched onto your leg, making you stumble a bit. “No!”

The young teen cringed at the look you gave him “Sorry- I just- We know we should have told you the truth- but Damian was afraid you’d reject him just for being your dad’s son-“ You grab him by the back of his top, bringing him to eye level once more. “Bruce is not my father.” Jon mutters another sorry at your snap. “We’re truly sorry- we both are. Damian just wanted to know you, I swear.”

“He could have known me if he didn’t lie to me.” You let go of the youngest Kent. “Now scram.” He doesn’t listen to you, though. “Please just give him another chance- he’s really sad about what he did!” That made you stop, cogs turning inside your head. “You know where The JL’s space station is?” Your question was met with a confused nod. “… Show me. And I’ll consider it.” You were lying to him. There’s no way that you’ll just forgive the boy because his puppy-eyed friend wants you to, but you couldn't pass on something that'll save you some time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You didn’t really expect them to be there, so you spent a few minutes watching them. They weren’t here when Jon first showed you the location. Diana Prince, Clark Kent, Oliver Queen, Dinah Lance, John Constantine, Zatanna Zatara, Hal Jordan, J’onn J’onzz. You weren’t sure what they were doing with the Bat family, frankly, you didn’t care. You’ll ask from Bruce what he owed you, and then you’ll be sure to bury any memories of them, even if you had to bury them with actual bodies.

“We need to talk.” The league members and the other bats present froze at the voice ringing through their minds. John and Zatanna just looked at your form outside the window with various degrees of confusion. Batman could only stare at you, at the subject of the discussion he was having with the others- “I need help.”

“You need help?” John’s surprise at the mere thought was visible. “Yeah- of course- Bats, open the window or something-“ John slapped Bruce’s arm as he moved closer to the window. “No.” You quickly interrupted, John repeating what you said. “They may be your friends or allies or whatever, but I don’t trust them.”

Your words seemed to have created a ruckus inside, one you weren’t quite privy to due to them speaking out loud. Your eyes were, however, on Black Bat- or was it Orphan now?… Batgirl? You couldn’t remember- you retained way too much information in a few days. Nevertheless, as the older people argued, Cassandra seemed to be moving out of your view range.

When she reappeared again, you did a double take. She was wearing a space suit- you hoped she was considering how sleek it looked compared to astronaut suits- and was jetting straight for you. “What the fuck are you doing-“ You gasped freezing up when she attached to you like a koala bear. “What. The. Fuck.” The young bat just looked at you. “Inside.”

This fucking family was making you crazy. But you relent, opening a portal and walking through, setting your feet on the floor. “Get off me.” You frowned as she tightened her grip while your voice startled quite a few people. “Now.” She let go with a whine, stepping a few inches back. “Now-“ Your head turns to look at the other. “You’ll help me. Not if, not maybe, you’ll do it, when I say.”

“Why would we?” Hal scoffed. “Imagine what the press would do to you knowing that you refused to fight against the Viltrumite problem two different times. Add to that the many disasters you refused to help with due to them being too 'low priority' for oh the great Justice League.” John’s head snapped to the Bat. “You refused to even look into it? Twice?!”

“We didn’t get another report about them-“Clark tried to defend, but your laugh cut him short. “Then all of you are as stupid as you are tall, or you’ve got a rat keeping things from you. Nolan, before killing the guardians, sent in anonymous tips and even came up here and to some of you, personally. You and Wonder Woman brushed him off.” Clark looks at Diana. “We didn’t think-“

“Of course you didn’t. There’s always something more important. Right, Bruce?” You tilted your head at the man, the use of his birth name made everyone tense up. Batman said you didn’t know. “You’ll help. It’s the least you fucking owe me.” The growled words made Batman flinch. “Or I’ll just expose everyone, from personal lives to dirty secrets to your contingency plans. Everything I have on the Justice League.” You tuned and smiled oh so sweetly at Bruce- he wished it was a real one. “If I and mine go down, I’ll make sure to drag you all to hell with me.”

“You can’t just-“ Hal choked on his words, falling into his chair when you appeared right in front of him, close enough your noses would have touched. “Sure I can. You have until tomorrow, eleven a.m., to decide.” You walked away from the man. “Once you agree, I’ll tell you how you can help me- And how we can stop the Viltrumites. If I don’t get an answer, I’ll take it as a refusal.” The green light of your portal created an eerie glow around you. “And Bruce? Keep your kids and yourself away from me.” Green Arrow looked at Batman. “First of all- What the fuck did you do to that kid to hate you like that? Because that wasn't the spoiled brat kind of 'I hate my dad' attitude.” Nightwing sighs. “It’s- not really what we did…“ Red Robin continues for him. “It’s mostly what we didn’t do.”

The blond was judging them. Hard. “…Okay… Second, is no one worried that we have someone on the inside keeping stuff from us?” Oliver turned from his wife to look at everyone else. “No one?” Bruce just grunts. “He’ll deal with it.” Dick gave a shaky smile as he patted his father’s shoulder. “Like he took care of your sister?” Oliver yelped as Dinah hit him. “What? It’s the truth- kid’s clearly messed up because of him-“

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Roy watched with worry as Jason kept replaying the celeb gossip clip that had been recently posted. Jason, despite shaking like a Chihuahua, was beyond ecstatic. The image of you, pearls adorning your neck, at some fancy restaurant with two men and then from a different recording holding those same men’s arms, clearly talking their ears off while the fuckers just smiled and looked at you- it opened opportunities for Jason.

Not because it’ll just make Bruce lose it over the possibility of you dating, and dating older men at that- no, that was nothing- but you being so chummy, so touchy with Lex Luthor and Slade Wilson? At least half of the family will lose it. They weren’t privy to the texts you sent him, to the silly pictures you took of the men without their knowledge, to what actually happened that day. The cards are in his hands, and he’s about to make Dick have to go back to anger management classes.

“Jason..?” Roy drawled out softly. “Are you okay? Have you taken too much of Scarecrow's gas, again?” Jason turned his head towards the man, grinning widely. “This may top Joker’s death.” Roy just sat up after processing it for a bit. “Okay… I’ll go get Selina… and maybe Harley too. You just- stay put, okay, buddy?”

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Sneak peek of ch 23:

“How about we don’t talk about that?” Lex tutted at your failed diversion. “Aw, did she break your heart?” You gave the bald man a blank stare. “I will throw you into a black hole.” He just laughed.

#dc x invincible #dc crossover #invincible crossover #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere invincible #yandere batfam #neglected reader #yandere batfamily #fem!reader #female!reader #platonic yandere #yandere nolan grayson #yandere batfam x reader

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liveyun · 6 months ago

Text

you’re an idiot (so am i) | j.jk

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem oc/reader

rating. M

genre. enemies to 👀, university AU, neighbours AU, comedy, drama, romance, angst, slight smut

warnings. coarse language, crACK like lOTS OF IT, theyre both idiots. excessive bickering,,, gym related stuff,,, Medical school itself is a warning,, unhealthy amounts of protein mentions,, i’m Sorry if you’re a gymbro 😭🙏🏾, awkwardness, oc gets slightly injured, it gets slightly smutty 👀, unspoken feelings bc they both suck at communicating, some Cute stuff, that should be it but lmk if i missed any, its 4am

wc. 4.5k +

if this writing style flops, i’ll probably quit writing too 💀

it’s 7:04 AM

or is it really. what is the time again

unfortunately you are awake.

and it’s not by choice.

it’s because your protein 💪 PROTEIN 💪 MORE PROTEIN 🏋️ gymrat neighbour is up, doing burpees in his living room

and the walls between your apartments are criminally thin

and you’re convinced he’s trying to invent a new form of torture through burpees because the sQUEAKING OF HIS DAMN SHOES ARE JUST AS LOUD AS AN ALARM CLOCK!!

why is he even awake at this ungodly hour, you wonder for the 8293838th time since moving in

you feel like crying

for rEAL.

it was around 5:30 am when u finally had let out a sigh of relief at having finally completed your assignment

you roll out of bed, hair resembling a bird’s nest

what else is bed hair supposed to look like

“O YEA!”

here we go

again

you feel like ripping your already damaged hair bc why does he have to be so damn loud

has no occupant not filed a complaint against him yet?

so now u consider knocking on his door to complain... but you remember what happened the last time you tried

jungkook had answered the door holding two dumbbells liKe they were extensions of his arms, shirtless, smiling so brightly it could cure vitamin D deficiency

you knew you were cooked the moment smirked at you gawkinG at his physique and you felt your cheeks warming up

“oh, hey, Y/N,” he’d said, casually flexing mid-sentence with that stupid grin on his face “need something? Or just admiring the view?”

you haven’t known peace ever since

by 8:15 AM, you’ve surrendered to fate and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee

you swEar you hear Jungkook’s blender whirring as he makes another one of his infamous protein shakes

does he even eat anything which does not have protein powder

like ok you understand the value of protein

but anything which has that stupid thing in it automatically tastes like the Biggest Piece of Dogshit

and somehow that’s what you neighbour has 24/7

last week he had accidentally left one in the communal fridge

it smelled like death and regret.

absolute L

anyway u think u need to get something in ur system too and thats when u open your fridge

and sigh

it’s empty.

except for a jar of pickles and a, uh, questionable carton of oat milk

yea. you’ll have to get brunch today. no futher questions asked

10:32 AM

ur first class of the day

and guess what

u have made the mistake of sitting near Jungkook in the lecture hall.

again! 😍

u swear that u are trying to focus on the lecture but is it really your fault that jungkook looks extra,,,...,,,

beefy

his notebook is open, but instead of notes, he’s drawing a disturbingly accurate diagram of biceps

and the shading looks pretty accurate too

he notices you staring, oof “anatomy is about more than just books, Y/N.”

you feel a muscle near your eye twitch

“i really don’t remember asking.”

ouch

that came out a bit too rude. . .

you feel like u should say sorry or something but he just flashes you that golden retriever grin

and somehow, you’re the one who feels stupid

12:10 PM

you’d think a med school lunch break would feel like a break

but no

the first thing you hear is the unmistakable pop of jungkook’s tupperware lid. it’s like pavlov’s bell, but instead of a dog, it triggers your impending irritation

of course it’s chicken, broccoli, and rice. gymrat starter pack™

does this man even know other foods exist?

atleast it doesn’t look unseasoned so maybe you can take it

you’re not the one having it anyway

“bon appétit,” he says with that smug grin, shoveling a forkful into his mouth like he’s filming a mukbang

you side-eye your sad excuse of a sandwich. “don’t you ever get bored of eating that?”

he gasps like a victorian man having seen the ankle of his wife for the first time

“bored? of gains? never.”

the chewing. oh god, the chewing. it’s so loud you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose

crunch. chew. sip of water from the world’s largest bottle. repeat.

“do you have to eat like a vacuum?”

he pauses, fork mid-air, and looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. then he grins. “do you have to be this cute when you’re annoyed?”

wha— cough!!

did you just choke at your sandwich infront of him?

-100 aura points

your brain just blue-screens

what the hell are you supposed to do with that information

12:22 pm

you haven’t touched your chips yet. you’re saving them for after jungkook’s food massacre ends

his tupperware is licked clean but he’s already eyeing your bag of chips like a hawk

“you gonna eat those?”

“yes, jungkook, i’m gonna eat my chips”

“cool”

c r u n c h

he’s already eaten half the bag.

u are genuinely considering homicide now

the girl from the next table suddenly waves at him, all giggly and twirling her hair like she’s auditioning for a romcom

“hey, jungkook! you should totally sit with us!”

he glances at you, one brow raised. “should i?”

“why are you asking me?” you snap, already annoyed (but like, annoyed in a normal way, not jealous. definitely not jealous)

you miss the way his lips quirk in the corners

“nah, i think i’ll stay here,” he says, smirking. “you’re better company anyway”

...

why is your face heating up. why. stop it

1:00 PM

you’re walking to your next class when jungkook catches up, sipping his protein shake. the smell is somewhere between expired yogurt and pure evil

“so, lunch was fun,” he says casually, like he didn’t commit multiple crimes against your sanity earlier

“for who?” you mumble, giving him the nastiest bombastic side eye

“for both of us,” he replies, grinning. “don’t lie, y/n, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around”

“i’d miss the peace”

he laughs heartily and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to both strangle him and maybe... smile a little

1:12 PM

ur phone dings

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bring more chips tomorrow

or don’t. i’ll just steal them again

>:D

you stare at your screen for a second, debating whether to respond or block his number

you type back

you : (1:13PM) touch my chips again and i’ll report you to student conduct

his reply is instant.

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bet they’d let me off for good behavior 😛

2:47 pm.

group project time!

otherwise known as “watch y/n slowly lose her sanity” time

you're hunched over your notes, trying to come up with literally anything for this cursed assignment while everyone else is glued to their phones

“guys, any ideas?” you try, for the fifth time, because teamwork makes the dream work, right?

wrong. dead silence. you can practically hear your soul exiting your body

one guy mutters, "we could... idk, make a powerpoint?" and goes back to scrolling on instagram. helpful king

you’re about three seconds away from making a powerpoint on why you hate everyone here when the door swings open

in walks jungkook, twenty minutes late, balancing a protein shake in one hand and a clipboard in the other

like he’s about to announce his plan for world domination

he slides into the chair next to you, annoyingly fresh, as if he hasn’t just already benched three cows at the gym

“did i miss anything?” he asks, sipping his shake and eyeing you with those boba lookalike peepers like he’s the main character

why are his eyes so

cute

“yeah, we solved climate change and made contact with aliens. you're late.”

he smirks. smirks. “nice. guess i’ll tackle world hunger next.”

one of your lab mates looks up from her phone just to whisper, “he’s so hot..”

my ass.

“he’s useless”

you’re about to drop-kick the clipboard out of his hands when he lazily stretches and says, “so what’s the plan, y/n? you always have the best ideas”

and just like that, everyone turns to you like a pack of hyenas waiting for their next meal

you might actually murder him. right after you finish this stupid project.

>:-)

midnight.

you’re staring at your notes like they’re written in ancient alien hieroglyphics. focus? yup, that’s a myth

through the wall, you hear it. again.

jungkook’s obnoxious gym playlist thumping loud enough to summon the gods of protein.

how about you just summon the reaper to maybe reap your soul or his

you try to ignore it. you really do. but then the bass drops, and you swear the walls start vibrating

ARGH

that’s it. you’ve snapped. you slam your pen down and march out of your apartment like a woman on a mission

by the time you’re at his door, you’re already regretting this decision

but sleep-deprived y/n? she’s not known for her impulse control

you bang on the door like your life depends on it

>:-(

after a moment, jungkook opens up, looking like he just stepped out of a gym rat rom-com. damp hair, earbuds in, wearing a tank top that shows off way too much arm.

good lord, those tattoos..

“what’s up?” he asks casually, pulling out an earbud, as if you didn’t just nearly break his door down

whats up? what thE hELL DOES HE MEAN WHATS UP??

“it’s midnight!” you yell, waving a hand in the general direction of your apartment. “some of us need sleep to survive!”

he blinks at you, tilting his head like a confused golden retriever. “but you’re awake now. want to do a quick set of push-ups?

you stare at him. you need to go to the store from where he bought the audacity. “push-ups?!”

“yeah,” he says, dead serious. “it’s a good way to burn off frustration. i do them all the time when i’m annoyed.”

“maybe i should start,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes. “because i’m annoyed right now.”

jungkook grins like the demon he is. “great! i’ll grab my mat.”

before you can stop him, he’s already turned back into his apartment. you briefly consider running, but it’s too late.

this is your life now.

five minutes later, you’re on the floor of his apartment, struggling to do one (1) push-up while he effortlessly does twenty in the same time it takes you to collapse in defeat

you feel like someone has bathed you in sweat

“this is humiliating,” you groan, face smushed into the mat

maybe you should’ve just slept

“nah, you’re doing great,” he says, way too cheerfully for someone torturing you. “just three more and you’ll hit... like, five total.”

you debate throwing a dumbbell at him but decide against it

jail isn’t worth it.

yet.

five minutes later you’re on the floor of his apartment, now two (2) push-ups deep and already regretting every decision you’ve made up to this point

you try again, your arms shaking with the effort, your brain screaming for mercy, when—

crack

“ow, ow, ow!” you yelp as your shoulder protests in a way that’s probably not supposed to happen

“that’s it, i’m dOne” you wince, face red from the sheer humiliation and pain

jungkook is standing there with a weirdly sympathetic expression that’s 90% amusement and 10% concern

he’s crouching beside you now, and you can't help but notice his Bambi eyes, all big and concerned, looking at your shoulder like he's actually worried for you

fml

this is so unfair

“u good?” he asks, voice unusually soft, and you can’t help but notice that barely there scar on his left cheek pulling slightly as he frowns and looks down at you

you glare at him, wincing a little more than you’d like to admit

does it look like ur good lol

“i think i pulled something” you mutter, still holding your shoulder, and mentally kicking yourself for agreeing to do this in the first place

you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to him

“mm,” he hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to your face, and then down to your shoulder with that gentle focus you didn’t think he was capable of

oUuu

“you should’ve asked for help, rookie” he says with that familiar cocky grin, but you catch the slight crinkle of concern in his brow, the mole beneath his lips almost beckoning you to stare at it

why is he so dumb but also so stupidly handsome?

and then his fingers are brushing against your shoulder again, carefully massaging the area in a way that’s too intimate for someone who’s just your annoying gym-obsessed neighbor

your heart rate spikes, and suddenly the injury doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore

“i’m fine, really,” you lie, trying to brush it off, but the way his Bambi eyes are looking at you—all soft and worried—has your head spinning

oh god

“i don’t think you are” he mutters, voice low, as he places a hand gently on your waist, pulling you just a little closer

god, stop being so touchy

the fact that he smells like musk and with some citrus-y notes underneath doesn’t help either

you feel your cheeks warming and lips parting

you feel yourself leaning in despite all logic telling you to stop, and then his eyes flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes, slow and cautious, like he’s waiting for your permission

you really cannot help but feel your heart skip a beat at how beautiful he looks. no like for real, his hair is slightly overgrown, curled at the ends which fall gracefully over his face

and how soft his lips look

your brain is too far gone, and the next thing you know, you’re kissing him, hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer

his hair feels so silky soft

but his lips are even softer, but there’s a desperate edge to the kiss, and you don’t know if it's because of your injury or the fact that you’ve both been playing this weird tension game for far too long

you feel like u can finally die kissing him like this

his hand slides down your back, pressing you into him as if you might disappear, and you pull away, gasping for air

jungkook’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown and heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks at you with an unreadable expression

“shit, i… i didn’t think i was actually going to do that” he murmurs, his voice rough and nearly trembling if u hear closely

you stare at his lips again, the mole under them, the way he looks so dumb but also so dumb handsome

his mouth parts to say something stupid again but you shush him with your pointer on his lips

“shut up and kiss me again, you idiot” you mutter, pulling him back in without a second thought

oH WOW

Jungkook doesn’t need any more encouragement. this time, it’s all teeth and heat, a kiss that feels like it might burn the air around you both

and your shoulder? completely forgotten, left in the dust

the kiss doesn’t end in some grand, romantic crescendo like the movies promised

you both were shamelessly making out on his mat

you were perched on his lap and both of u were busy eating eachother’s mouths (it sounds gross but that’s what exactly u two were doing) when suddenly you give his hair a tug

and you hear a moan spilling from him

his hips buck up and you gasp, but it ends with him abruptly pulling away

he’s breathing like he just ran an hour on the treadmill. cheeks all flushed, lips shining with saliva and eyes wide

and your heart is hammering in your chest like it’s trying to escape

jungkook stares at you, lips slightly swollen, eyes wide and wild, and for once, the idiot looks just as lost as you feel

“i—uh—” you stammer, the words tangling in your throat because what the hell are you supposed to say after something like that

“y- yeah,” he cuts in, his voice rough and strained like he’s been punched in the gut, “same”

same? SAME?!

you glare at him, more out of panic than anger, because suddenly the room feels too small, and his scent—something annoyingly musky and Jungkook-ish—is now overwhelming you

“i, uh, should go” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet and clutching your sore shoulder like a lifeline

jungkook doesn’t stop you, just sits there on the floor, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and an expression you can’t quite place

“cool” he mutters, dragging a hand through his messy hair as his jaw clenches

you don’t say anything else, don’t even look back as you practically bolt out of his apartment and into the safety of your own, slamming the door shut behind you

breathe, you tell yourself, leaning against the door, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling from his kiss

you won’t lie, you really didn’t think it would take just a tug of hair to have Mr. Muscle moaning under you

and that kind of inflated ur ego too

>:-)

but now

as u stand behind your closed door

the warmth that had filled your chest moments ago is quickly replaced by a knot of confusion and panic

because this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with Jungkook of all people

he’s my annoying gym-rat neighbor. this is… this is stupid

or is this really?..

no matter how much you try to convince yourself, your fingers keep brushing your lips absentmindedly, and your brain replays the moment over and over again like some kind of cruel joke

the next morning, you half expect him to blast his gym playlist at full volume to piss you off like he always does

but it’s quiet

too quiet

jungkook doesn’t blast music. doesn’t clank weights around. doesn’t do anything to make his presence known, and it’s driving you insane

you don’t know why it bothers you so much, but it does

when you leave for class, you catch a glimpse of him locking his door, but he doesn’t even glance your way

just slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks off like you don’t exist

asshole

yea that hurt. a Lot. like a good amount, because you are sure that you felt that pain in the centre of your chest

but it’s not like you’re any better

you bury yourself in your textbooks, pretending the kiss never happened, even though your stupid brain refuses to let it go

your chest feels tight every time you hear his door open or his voice filter through the thin walls

and you hate how you feel disappointed every time he doesn’t acknowledge you

like you really are a stranger to him

:-(

it’s pathetic, but you can’t help it

the silence between the two of you stretches on like an invisible barrier

days pass, and the two of you become masters of the fine art of avoidance

there’s a strange art to it, like walking on eggshells in your own apartment

even if u two live in separate apartments, it just feels

weird

you are so used to him being so noisy and what not

but the silence is heavy, uncomfortable, like an unfinished sentence hanging in the air

and it’s clEar neither of you know how to handle whatever the hell this is

you can’t figure out whether it’s a relief or suffocating

and every time you pass him in the hallway or see him through your apartment window, it’s like a silent conversation you’re not having

and that, somehow, feels worse than everything else

you want him to say something. anything.

but he doesn’t

and neither do you

and it makes you sick how easy it is to fall back into the rhythm of pretending he doesn’t exist

even when he’s right there.

you go to class and he’s there

sitting three rows ahead of you like he’s deliberately trying to ignore you

and with that girl who cannot seem to have her hands off his bicep

and you’re… fine with it

totally fine

you are just hoping that your glare is enough to burn a hole in her skull

it’s just that you can’t stop staring at the back of his head

like maybe he’ll turn around and say something but nope

the entire lecture passes and he doesn’t even glance over

and you try not to overthink it but you’re pretty sure jungkook is doing the same thing to you

ignoring you

on purpose

you’re not imagining it, right?

lunch rolls around and you sit down at your usual spot

jungkook’s sitting at the table next to you with his back to you

he doesn’t even look up when you sit down

normally, he would’ve sent you a little half-smile or asked about your day or whatever. .

but now? nothing

it’s like you’re invisible

and that’s fine. you don’t care.

but deep down, you feel this weird lump in your chest

because you didn’t expect this coldness from him

even after everything that’s happened

and you’d even unconsciously brought his favourite flavour of chips he especially likes..

then you see him texting on his phone

and you can’t help but peek over at his screen

jungkook is texting someone

and it’s not you

for some reason, that stings more than it should, but you swallow it down and pretend you didn’t notice

the silence between the two of you stretches out for days

it’s like the entire universe is pretending you never had that moment together

the night when everything took a wild ass turn

but jungkook’s acting like it never happened

and so are you.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s better

maybe he regrets kissing you.

maybe you even made him uncomfortable?..

and maybe this is easier

you can’t decide if it hurts or if you’re just overthinking it

either way, you stop checking his texts, stop wondering what he’s doing in his apartment

you try your best to pretend it’s okay

but deep down, you miss the stupid moments

the ones where he wasn’t so distant where it feels like something ended between you two before it could even start.

it feels like it’s been over a decade

and you hate it.

but you push it aside

it’s just… the silence is way too loud now.

you’re sitting in your room, trying to convince yourself that letting go of jungkook is the right thing to do

and perhaps ur failing miserably lol

but it’s hard because every five minutes you catch yourself staring at something that reminds you of him

your notes? he doodled on them during lectures

your hoodie? yeah, it’s his. he lent it to you one day and never asked for it back

your heart? yeah. he kind of stole that too

you’re spiraling between sleep and insanity when there’s a knock on your door

no, wait—it’s not a knock

it’s banging — like someone’s fist is about to break through the wood

WHO CALLED THE COPS ON YOU ONG

you jump up, your heart pounding, and open the door

and there he is

jungkook—standing there, looking like he just ran a marathon and fought a bear at the same time

hair all messy, slight bags underneath his eyes and kinda disheveled outfit

for a split second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat

it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and suddenly having him standing in front of you is making your heart race like crazy

“i can’t—” he stops, breathless, hands on his knees like he’s about to collapse

you’re standing there, eyes wide, totally taken aback by the sight of him, feeling a mix of relief and something else you can’t quite place

yet

“i can’t take it anymore,” he says, looking up at you with that ridiculous face of his

you grab that meaty bicep of him, ushering him to stand up

“what are you talking about?” you ask, completely confused

“you. i’m talking about you,” he says, taking a step closer

hUH

the air around you feels like it’s being sucked out of the room

your head is spinning because after all this time, here he is, right in front of you

“i like you. i’ve always liked you. and i didn’t know how to tell you, so i…”

“i got all this gym equipment just to bother you. i’d turn the music up way too loud, and i thought that’d make you notice me. i sat next to you at lunch, even in lectures, doing everything to annoy you because i didn’t know how else to approach you, i really thought—”

“jungkook.”

you blink, processing everything in a blur, your heart still hammering in your chest

but he doesn’t quite listen to you. “i knew you liked my sketches we had during cardio lectures, so i always made sure to draw—”

“juNGKOOK!”

you cut him off, smacking his idiotic shoulders “you’re an idiot.”

jungkook stops, eyes widening a little, but there’s this look of relief on his face

like a huge weight has just been lifted off him

almost like when u get to pee after holding it in for hours

“i know,” he says softly, and for the first time, you realize how vulnerable he looks standing there

he somehow looks

small.

“then why didn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” you ask, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement

jungkook smiles sheepishly, his pearly whites flashing. “i guess i thought this would be easier.”

easier.

only if he knew that each moment without him felt like the earth opening up and swallowing you

AND!!! HIS FAVOURITE ONION VINEGAR FLAVORED CHIPS!! which used to be your absolutely hated flavour but somehow you’ve caught a liking to them recently

how ironic

the room feels heavy with tension as you both stand there, unsure of what to say next, but his gaze is so intense, it makes your heart skip

“say something,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “please.”

you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, still flustered, but there’s something about his earnestness that makes everything else fade into the background

and the way his caramel brown eyes nearly sparkle underneath your dimly lit apartment lights

you shake your head with a smile.

“you’re an idiot.”

but you're smiling like a total fool because what else are you supposed to do when the guy you’ve been in love with just confessed to you?

jungkook’s face softens, and then he smiles too

a smile which looks so adorable you feel your heart will burst

and it’s over for you

“so, uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, looking bashful. “does that mean you like me too?”

you roll your eyes, your heart racing all over again, and grab the front of his shirt to pull him inside

“kiss me already”

the door slams shut behind you.

and the rest

as they say, is history

:-)

a/n : i love them bad :’(

mlist | let me know what you think anonymously :))

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king-craftsman · 7 months ago

Text

Gamer Bro

The office was tense as the news of possible layoffs started circulating around. Mark sighed as he sat back down in his seat, he played around with his phone for a short time but ended up throwing it back on his desk. He sat around, switching between nervously tapping his fingers on his desk or biting his nails as he glanced back intermittently at the door of his manager. Things didn’t get any better when he saw his annoying coworker, Jason, his attire barely “formal” and heading towards him with a big grin.

“You okay Mark? What’s going on?” asked Jason, Mark rolled his eyes, he couldn’t even tell if he came back from his lunch break or if he just turned up to work and the last thing he needed was to deal with some obnoxious jock.

“I’m fine, just worried about all the layoffs going around,” answered Mark, it took everything in him not to glare as he saw Jason grin.

“Aw man that sucks, well you look like you need to relax,” suggested Jason. “I recently started this server for me and a few friends, just to talk and play stuff together. Why don’t you join?” Mark wanted to say something, but he just found himself nodding. It wasn’t like he had much to do after work anyway and he did get a new console but hardly found any excuse to use it as opposed to trying to focus on doing more work from home. “Cool! So what do you play on?”

Mark had a feeling the next hour was going to be hell to get through.

Later on after work, he found himself thankful that he still had a job, but wanting to kick himself for agreeing to play with Jason today. He didn’t even take the time to change out of his clothes, still dressed in his office shirt and suit pants as he sat down and switched on his console, toying around with his console and getting used to the controller once again. He cringed slightly as he saw Jason’s invite appear on screen and he put on the headset before joining, hearing Jason’s voice.

“Hey there bro, how are you doing?” came Jason’s voice, Mark saw that there were a couple others that joined the lobby.

“I’m doing okay Jason, thanks,” replied Mark.

“Hey Jason, who’s this?” came a voice almost as obnoxious sounding as Jason’s. Mark wondered why these people sounded the same and as he tried to introduce himself, he was interrupted.

“Oh hey Scott! This is Mark, he’s a friend from work. Yeah, I recently started going gym with him and thought he should hang out with us here,” said Jason. Mark immediately furrowed his brows. He was a pretty healthy guy but he had never gone to the gym or with Jason. “Isn’t that right Mark?

“Uhh…” Mark started, for some reason he found the right words hard to come by as he suddenly grunted at the feeling of his own shirt starting to feel too tight. His own hand began unbuttoning his office shirt, fanning himself as Mark’s torso began to grow more muscular, beginning to spill out of the shirt and causing some of the last buttons to tear themselves off. Mark blinked, unable to process what was happening and feeling like he was in some sort of dream as he looked down at his torso.

His chest pushed out, his upper chest suddenly developing pecs that bounced as they fell forward after their surge of growth, both his nipples enlarging as blonde hairs began to replace his own darker chest hair. The hairs travelled down forming a treasure trail as Mark felt his lower chest suddenly begin to house a set of picturesque six pack abs.

“You okay there Mark?” asked Scott, as a final tear came about as the last of Mark’s office shirt tore away to allow his much larger body to be free as his back started to stretch as he sat up, causing him to grow taller by every second.

“Yeah uhh I just feel-”

“Oh I’m sure he’s fine, probably just stretching. We even went to the gym today, working on biceps,” interrupted Jason. Each part of his torso seemingly bloated as Jason went on and on about their gym routine and Mark simply shrugged his shoulders as his arms were the next to expand, widening as his hands grew to get a firmer grip on the more familiar feeling controller. It felt as if coming home from work or gym to spend time playing with Jason was the norm as Mark’s growing fingers wrapped around the controller and he only just noticed he was mindlessly playing a game with Jason and his buddies. “How are you feeling Mark?”

I feel weird, Mark wanted to say.

“I’m good man,” replied Mark as he felt one hand coming to his crotch, adjusting it as his bulge began growing in his own pants, beginning to feel his calves and thighs threaten to burst his pants.

“Yeah we’ve been working on his quadriceps and stuff too,” assured Jason, Mark kicked off his shoes, almost drooling as his eyes were glazed over and playing the game with no real focus and no attention to his changing body. As his feet began to grow, Mark began to feel all his focus and passion to work and the office shrinking. He found himself still adjusting on his seat as his legs continued to grow more muscular as he scratched at his blonde facial hair that continued to grow and spread around his chiselled jaw. “Mark do you wanna meet at the gym later?”

As Mark stifled a groan from the feeling of his larger throbbing crotch, he felt his changing face. His nose shrank. his eyes blinked and became blue, no longer needing his glasses which he tossed away and his neck thickened to allow a deeper voice to sound out of his thinner and smaller lips.

“Yeah bro that’d be great,” said Mark. He almost sounded exactly like Jason and his friend Scott now as he looked down at himself. “Give me a minute.” The dedicated office worker was now a more relaxed gym bro and as he stepped away to go change into some clothes when he realised he was almost naked except from some tight fitting underwear.

Nonetheless Mark decided not to wear too much, he enjoyed feeling and being able to look down to see his muscular body, and he couldn’t believe it when he thought that he couldn't wait to go to the gym to hang out with his bro.

Click here to read more stories of transformation and hypnosis, all available here.

#male transformation #jock transformation #male tf #himbofication

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balladofboothill · 3 months ago

Text

Joe burrow x EMT

note : wrote this purely off kissing a tree with your car brownies and 10hrs of shitty sleep

warnings : brief talk of medical stuff, the q word, couple sex jokes and very short

Like any medical household, the q word is banned (quiet)

"Why the fuck is it so quiet here" Ja'marr comes busting in through the doorway, disturbing the much needed peace of the household, joe shushed him right away as the last time he said the q word he got a stuffed animal thrown his way, "we never speak of the q word here" Joe says quietly as Ja'marr gives him a look as if he has four heads.

Joe asks the strangest questions

"What happens if someone's dick snaps off during sex?" Joe asks, randomly at 4am, "uhhhhh, I don't know, why?" You ask, "dunno just wondering" Joe answered with this strange look in his eye, still slightly confused at why he's asking this, another time while eating dinner he asked what would happen if someone stuck a carrot in their eyes.

Med truck sex.

JK! But he did ask if that was possible while he was watching you load it. "Could you ride me on that stretcher?" Joe asks in a bland tone for the question he just asked. "Joe baby, great idea but I'd like to keep my job." You answered to him, clearly joking upset

Thinks it's the coolest thing that he now has a personal nurse for when he's sick

Man flu is the worst thing to ever happen to men, Joe is 100% down for the count, acting like he's gonna puke his lungs out, "nurse can you please give me some cough meds" Joe begged as best he could between the coughs, "yeah here." You said as you hand him the cough meds, "this isn't what I expected to be using my schooling for" you though to yourself, praying you don't get sick next

If his friends get injured while they're doing guy things he'll text you a picture and ask what to do

A text pings during your lunch break of a photo that Joe sent, it's of a pretty sizable open cut with a fishing hook stuck in it, Joe had taken a couple high school friends fishing at your family's pond earlier before your shift, texting back "don't remove the hook, cut the line and go to the ER", a couple hours later you receive a photo of the stitched up cut

any EMT is awful to watch football with

Watching a random college game after a long shift with Joe should have been relaxing until you get bored and start commentating the injuries that can happen, "during my first week I saw a player snap his entire latissimus dorsi" you commentate as Joe looks in slight horror

Thank you for reading :) please reblog to support writers!!<3

#cincinnati bengals #cincinnati football #joe burrow #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 6 months ago

Text

Objects in Motion

Part 4!

Alpha! Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

No warnings this is wholesome lmaoooooooo

His scent lingers on you when you walk into work on Monday. Despite how hard you'd tried to wash it off, it clings to your skin, seemingly unwilling to let you go.

Secretly, that delights you, emphasizes the strength of whatever there was between the two of you. It’s equal parts giddy, and terrifying.

That an alpha like him- that he could be interested in you, you have to resist a groan of delight as you wait for the elevator to get to your floor.

The doors slide open and you let out a long sigh, making your way slowly to your desk, smiling and forcing yourself to greet your coworkers.

You were already exhausted by the idea of working, wishing you were still in bed, hidden under piles of blankets to shield you from the world. Maybe a certain alpha would be willing to join you.

Or maybe… maybe you were better off never thinking about him again.

Honestly, you'd probably be doing him a favour, your situations couldn't be more opposite, you couldn't imagine him ever seeing where you lived, it might hurt you to see the pity written across his face.

Worse, you'd just be a burden to him, he'd probably feel obligated to take care of you, and if things didn't work out- you shudder- you didn't even want to think about it.

But God, you were so attracted to him that it hurt. You couldn't stop thinking about him, and the ways he would touch you, the ways he might feel, the size of him-

You blink in surprise, feeling a small flush of pheromones around you. Damn, work was the worst place for this.

At the same time, you catch sight of Renée, the only other omega in the department, making her way toward you, her desk situated nearby.

She glances at you, gives you a subtle nod while dropping her stuff, before pausing, and turning to you.

“You smell like an Alpha.” She says, no question in her tone.

Renée was the type of person to speak somewhat kindly to your face, the perfect facade of caring, but you knew people, and you knew that she would find a way to work this interaction into office gossip.

“I made a friend.” You answer inexplicably, trying to keep a poker face, knowing that shyness would do you no favours here.

She raises her eyebrows, turns away, you knew she was thinking one of two things, wondering how you managed to befriend an alpha before her, or that someone you called a ‘friend’ would let you scent them. Basically, that you were a slut and she was better than you.

“Well, I hope you have fun.” She says, smiling over at you sweetly.

“Thanks.” You mutter politely, tugging your headset on, and getting ready to start your day.

Your phone pings in the middle of the morning peak hours, and you pause speaking to glance down at it, seeing yet another message from the alpha himself.

He’d been sending texts all weekend, texts that you had been ignoring, though you weren’t exactly sure why.

You shake your head, apologising for your pause, before resuming your work.

When the call ends, you take a bathroom break, pulling down your notification bar to see what he’s said.

You catch sight of all the other messages before, sighing as guilt fills you.

I hoped you had a nice time, sweetheart, I’d like to see you again.

Omega?

Please don’t feel shy about the car, I wanted it too.

Are you ignoring me?

Good morning, sweetheart. Let’s have dinner.

Are you really going to make me beg?

It was almost hard to breathe, the way he seemed so desperate for you. You could almost feel his desire through the phone, like an ache in your chest, sticking like tar to the back of your throat.

Denying him might be the hardest thing you've ever had to do, but it was for the best, you decide as you lock your phone. You would not be played for a fool ever again.

He calls during your lunch break, you swallow and flip your phone over, muting the call while you eat your small packed lunch.

Why wasn't he getting the message? Would it really be that hard to free yourself of him?

You don't get any more messages or calls after that, and you assume he gives up when you hear nothing else from him for the rest of the day.

Your transit home is bitter, the thought that you'd successfully chased an alpha away hurts, like you knew it would.

He might have been amazing, he might have been warm. You tip your head back on the bus, taking in a deep breath and exhaling agony.

Worse, his scent fades even more the next day, and where you'd been trying to scrub it from you over the weekend, you cling to it now, wishing it would stay just a few days more.

You stop, surprised, when you see a single sunflower sitting on your work desk in the morning.

It's in a little transparent vase, and your heart gives a violent uptick as you approach, reaching for the little card you see pressed under the vase, raising it to your nose, taking a deep breath.

Your eyes roll back in your head at the pure scent of him. He'd probably rubbed the harsh little card against his scent gland, trying to get your attention by any means necessary.

You go so weak in the knees that you're forced to brace a hand against your desk to support you.

You draw back, flipping the card open, finding one word written neatly in his hand.

Please

You bite down in the corner of your lip, smiling. Guess you hadn't chased him away after all.

Was this good? Was this bad? You didn't know, all you could feel is your chest fluttering at the idea that you'd pushed this Alpha away as hard as you could and he was still here, trying to calmly approach, not overwhelming you by physically getting into your space, but letting his actions speak for him, reminding you that he was still here.

Could you hope that his feelings were real? That he really cared about you, where other Alphas had only themselves in mind?

“From your friend?” Renee's voice breaks into your head.

You turn, dropping your hand as if you've been caught.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, turning to busy yourself with work, feeling her eyes glued to the back of your head.

When you finally settle in, staring at the flower, you frown, remembering the way the second alpha you'd been with had used your own desires against you. He'd twisted your need to be cared for, making it seem like your only purpose was to serve him. Adam had left you aching for crumbs and hating yourself for it.

You could almost cry from the memory, that alphas could be so cruel, so manipulative, that it was always a game and you needed to keep your cards close to your chest.

Why, would William be any different?

Why were you wishing with everything you had, that he was?

You bring the card up to your nose, breathing in his scent, hoping.

You’re staring at his unopened messages yet again, trying to figure out what to say to him when the phone on your desk rings.

You straighten, grabbing your headset, tugging it on before answering, giving your quick, jovial greeting.

There’s a long pause, that alerts you to the fact that this call might not be totally normal.

“Omega.” The voice finally says, and your mouth drops open in surprise.

“William?” You ask, almost choking on your words, “You- these calls are recorded for quality purposes.”

“You’ve been ignoring me. This was the only way I could think of to hear your voice.”

Jesus Christ, you could feel your heart palpitating in your chest.

“We shouldn’t be talking on this line.” You respond shakily.

“Did I do something wrong? Tell me what I did sweetheart, so I can fix it.”

Ohmygod, you clear your throat, adjusting yourself in your seat with the way his voice is affecting you.

“William-”

“-I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to see you again, even if it’s for you to tell me you want me to leave you alone. I’ll beg if I have to.”

You blink, mouth parting, unable to speak.

“We shouldn’t.” You try.

“Please.” is his low, grovelling response.

Your breath hitches as he continues on repeat, slow, drawing out each word with his voice echoing through your headset, sending shivers over your spine.

“Please, please, please, please, please-”

“Okay.” You stumble out, “Alright.”

You hear him sigh a breath of relief.

“Let’s have dinner tonight. My treat.”

“I don’t-” You start before cutting off, cheeks aflame with embarrassment, “-I have nothing to wear.”

“Don’t fret little one, I’ll pick you up after work. I’ll take care of everything, you just have to withstand my company for one night, and if you really want me to, I’ll leave you alone after.”

“I��m holding you to that, alpha.” You answer, whispering it so that Renée doesn’t overhear you.

He hums over the line, a little laugh after a few moments.

“Thank you, omega, see you later.”

You mumble your goodbye, ending the call on your side.

It warms your core for minutes after, unbelievably turned on by him, unable to deny the way you were feeling, you bring the card up to your nose once more, breathing him in.

He sends you a quick message a few minutes before your work day ends to tell you that he’s waiting in the lobby for you.

You feel a nervous twist in your stomach as you close your files, and pack up your things, glancing over to see that Renee hadn’t come back from her trip to the bathroom just yet, normally bidding her goodbye before you leave.

You wonder if you should bring the sunflower with you, but you figure it would be fine here and you can just take it home tomorrow. On the other hand, seeing it here really did make the day more bearable.

You decide to think about it later, heading for the elevator, your bag in hand.

You catch his scent as the doors slide open, smiling wistfully as bergamot surrounds you, tugging you to him.

You round the corner and stop short in shock.

You'd never thought of Renée as a friend in any means, but you'd never seen her as any type of adversary until this very moment, as you watch her smile up at William, her neck tilted to the side slightly in offering.

It's a very bold move, to openly present your scent gland to a possible stranger, and you glance up at his face, noting his expression.

His eyebrows are pinched, mouth turned down into a frown, confusion maybe, perhaps a hint of distaste.

You didn't know you were good at reading lips until this moment as well, but you know without a doubt that he says the words ‘I'm sorry, I'm not interested.’ despite how far away you are.

Then, he turns, eyes meeting yours as if he knew exactly where you were.

He mutters something you think is ‘excuse me,’ before he begins walking in your direction.

In a well pressed white shirt, tucked into charcoal grey pants, he approaches you with even strides, never breaking eye contact, making you feel the intensity of him as he draws near.

You feel your spine stiffen, head angling upward the closer he gets, until he's standing before you, drinking you in.

“Hello, sweetheart, thank you for giving me another chance to see you.”

You gulp.

“D- don't make me regret it.” You stutter out, trying to stand your ground on your boundaries.

“Never.” He promises, extending his elbow out for you to take. You eagerly oblige, reaching up to grip his bicep securely, maybe a little bit more than necessary.

You keep your head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone on your way out.

He's not driving this time, guiding you toward a very big SUV, with blackout windows and a cozy leather interior.

There’s so much room, enough for him to extend his legs when he slides in beside you, closing the door and tapping twice on the partition separating the two of you from the driver.

“Wow,” you murmur, looking around, even noticing a small fridge in the space across from you, “This- is this yours?”

He hums.

“Technically, they belong to the company, but I get to use it when I need to.”

You blink, realising that he was trying to be humble about it.

Smiling, you turn to look at him, eyes widening when you realise how close he’d gotten to you when you were distracted.

“You smell like me, omega.” He whispers into the space between you, his dark eyes searching yours, leaning in, he presses his nose to your hair.

You hear the soft inhale, your body stiffening, trying to resist your own instinct to present your scent gland to him. His own scent fills the space around you, and his shaky exhale brushes your ear as he leans away.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not pleased by it. You have power over me, sweetheart, I hope you know that.”

Your breaths sharpen, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down harshly trying to recenter your thoughts.

How could he say something like that so easily? As if it were in his nature to be so… devoted.

His gaze dips to your mouth, lingering there for a long moment before he smiles softly.

“How was work today?” He inquires, leaning back further, taking a few deep breaths, in what you can only assume is an attempt to calm himself.

It was great, you want to say, but the words won't come out with the way he's looking at you, as if you're his next meal, or his deity.

You can't decide.

“Omega?”

“Good.” You blurt, losing control of your thinking, did you even really have a good day? You don't have the brain power to remember.

You turn your head away, blinking, trying to… think. It was hard to focus on anything other than him, the way he was filling your head with primal static, the urge to obey, to succumb washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” You finally say, dropping your head into your hands, “being around you isn’t easy. It’s hard to control myself.”

You feel pressure in your throat, tears springing to your eyes, a dam on the brink of bursting.

His hand presses securely between your shoulder blades.

“Breathe,” He says calmly, you turn your head to find warm, encouraging eyes.

Oh, you think to yourself as you follow his instruction, breathing in softly, feeling those primal desires soften under the guidance of the very man causing them.

“There you go,” His voice makes your stomach flutter, “There’s nothing to be sorry about, little one.”

There he goes again, making you want him.

What would it cost, to reach up and kiss him? To press your fingers into his jaw while your mouths meet, to feel him like that, to exist with him in that way?

You let out a soft sigh, relaxing, living in that thought for a few moments.

When he’s sure you’re calm enough, he smiles.

“Now, let’s start over- was your day actually good?”

You feel amusement rise inside of you.

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “No one yelled at me, so I call it a win.”

He blinks, his expression turning sorrowful.

“People often yell at you?”

You nod.

“Customer service… is an excuse for small people to make someone else feel small.”

Something changes in his eyes, sorrow moulting into something else- his jaw tightening.

“I don't like the sound of that.” He admits.

You offer him a wry smile.

“That's just how things are, I guess. This is what I have to work with.” You stop yourself from complaining more, worried that it might upset him to hear the way people treated you, to hear them make derogatory comments, to question your intellect as if you'd personally inconvenienced them.

His hand moves from your shoulder, tracing its way up to the back of your neck, and then to the side, his thumb in perfect reach of your scent gland and your brain goes hazy at the thought.

Instead of your gland, his thumb reaches up to stroke the edge of your jaw calmly.

“What happens if someone is too aggressive? What's the protocol? Do you transfer them to a manager?”

You gulp, remembering one time that happened, you'd gotten reprimanded after.

“Yeah that's the protocol, but I think it's best if I solve the problem myself, and get approvals on my own. It's not usually good to waste my supervisor's time.”

His thumb gently stroking your cheek lulls you, fits you into a space where you feel safe to talk about these things.

“Does anyone at your job yell at you?”

“Not… yell,” you hesitate for a moment, enjoying his caress, “they're just… warnings. I'm- I try to do my best to avoid that.” You huff out a breath, “I guess I got yelled at once, when I first started, but not after that.”

You gulp, glancing at him, the soft fire in his eyes as he studies you, his thumb dipping, circling the spot right above your gland.

Your lips part, your mind begging you to reach out to him.

The car slows to a stop.

You take a deep breath, eyes widening when you scent the mixture of pheromones in the air, you might as well be begging him on your knees with how potent it was. It sort of surprised you that he was able to resist it.

You want to say something to him, anything to fill the silence that swarms in as your eyes meet his, but your brain is blissfully blank, not a single cohesive thought other than how badly you wanted him.

He gives you a patient smile.

“We’re here.” He says.

“Where?” You ask softly.

“Hotel,” He answers softly, “I rented a room so you can get dressed and meet me in the restaurant for dinner.”

Renting a room? On a second date?

“Oh…” You mumble, trying to figure out if you needed to clarify your boundaries for him again.

You don’t get the chance, the door opens and you have to busy yourself with stepping out instead of addressing your concerns.

He extends his hand for you to take, and you do so eagerly, aching even more when you feel his large hand interlocked with yours.

It’s almost like you’re his omega, walking beside him as he confidently guides you into the hotel, nodding at reception and heading straight to the elevators.

The doors close and you can feel your body throbbing. Was he expecting more from you than you were ready for?

“William?”

“Yes, Omega?”

You blink, looking up at him, unable to voice the words, the topic of conversation is too sensitive, the words can barely leave your mouth. Your mind races to find something else to ask.

“Do you- um- live around here?”

He tilts his head for a moment, maybe sensing your hesitation.

“Not really, I live close to where I work, home to office you know?”

You nod, smiling, before facing forward once more, a slither of discomfort in your spine.

You can feel his eyes on you, no doubt trying to read you while you debate whether this was a good idea or not.

When the doors slide open, he begins speaking again.

“I hired a stylist, to help, if that’s okay, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He guides you down a well lit hallway, and stops at a door before turning to face you.

“Is this okay? Or is it too much?” He questions softly, and you dip your head, unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s a bit much.” You mumble, looking down at your shoes.

He bends his body, smiling as he manages to fit his head into your line of sight, it pulls a small smile from you too.

“If you could bear with me, omega.” He whispers so softly that the words kick off a yearning need in your head, “I have a surprise that will hopefully make up for it.”

You tilt your head up, and he moves, straightening his body to remain in your line of sight.

“Okay.” You surrender, trying to allow yourself to be swept up by him, even temporarily.

He gives you a pleased smile, hindbrain preening in response that you’ve made alpha happy. He turns, knocking on the door.

After a few moments, an omega with a kind smile opens the door. He introduces her as Maria, and you spare him one more glance before you step into the room, nodding when he says he’ll see you on the roof in two hours.

The elevator plays soft music as you travel upward, the sound of your own breathing heavy in your ear.

You weren't sure you'd picked the right dress, a little self conscious that you'd chosen something that might be too juvenile.

The strawberry dress had been too beautiful, your eyes had been drawn to it the moment you saw it, and no matter how hard you tried to convince Maria that it was a bad idea, she'd insisted that you picked the dress you most loved.

You really did like it, the tulle and the colour, and the cut of the dress going so low that you'd skipped your bra and used boob tape to hold your cleavage in place.

You weren't sure how painful removal would be, Maria had suggested baby oil, you just hope you had some at home.

She'd fixed your hair into soft curls, and she was really nice about what you liked and didn't, and by the end of it, she felt more like a friend helping you than a stylist being paid to do so.

The elevator doors open, and you cautiously step out. You take a deep breath through your nose, catching the faded scent of him, and following it.

Down a short hallway, and into a large open restaurant space. It was quiet, void of anyone, tables and booths empty.

You frown a little, confused as to why a restaurant this opulent would be closed. Sure, it was still daylight out on a weekday, but it didn't make sense to you on a business level.

The entire restaurant is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, with a large pane of glass in the middle of the room, blurry with falling water.

The soft sound invites you, and as you get closer, You make out a wavy silhouette behind the glass.

You step around it, finding William facing the window, looking down at his phone.

He's dressed pristinely in a dark blue shirt, black pants and shoes, though the top buttons on his shirt are open, giving off a more casual vibe than his work shirt from earlier.

You watch him take a slow breath, and then lift his head in realisation, turning to look at you.

You smile at him as he turns, fitting his phone into his pocket in one swift moment, slowly approaching you.

He doesn't say anything, and you're too afraid to see repulsion in his eyes to keep looking at him, so instead you study his attire as well, admiring the way he looks, noticing the delicate silver chain shimmering around his neck as he moves.

He says your name, and you glance up at him with wide eyes as he stands before you.

He takes another slow breath, and raises a hand to push some of your hair away from your scent gland, the tips of his fingers just gently brushing it, eliciting an almost violent shiver of pleasure.

“You look…” He lets out an amused breath, shakes his head slightly, “I can’t find the right word. Beautiful? Divine? Bewitching. Radiant...”

Delight bubbles inside of you until you can't resist a pleased smile.

“Thank you, Alpha, you look very nice too.”

When you say his title, you watch his eyes darken, his scent growing a little stronger in the space between you as his body calls out to yours.

You can feel it, the heat between you, the promise that he would take care of your every need no matter what.

“Hungry?” He asks, and you swear his words have a double meaning.

You nod, because you can't say it out loud, that you were starving, famished, not just for food but for the pleasure of his company, for the pleasure of him.

He guides you to the far end of the restaurant, towards a secluded corner, where there's a table waiting for you.

You don’t get a chance to study the table because you’re distracted by a large… object covered in a velvet shroud.

You walk around the object, preoccupied with it, turning to look at William with your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“It’s my surprise,” He explains, stepping closer to you so that you can breathe him in, “I hope you like it.”

You look at it, the velvet shroud going up high, hanging precariously from the ceiling you think, one firm tug might bring it down.

When you look back at him, he’s got his eyes on you.

“When can I see what it is?” You ask eagerly.

He blinks, as if coming back to himself, glancing at the object as if he’s just remembered it.

“Take a step back,” He instructs, waiting until you comply to give another directive with a low voice.

“Close your eyes.”

Your heart pounds, excitement and anxiety war within you, the former winning over as you let your eyes close.

You hear footsteps, and then a tug, the sound of the shroud falling and the wind it generates as it does, caressing your face.

There’s a moment of silence, where your impatience fights you to open your eyes before he says, but you try your best to wait for William’s permission.

“You can open them now.”

You gasp in shock when you recognise what you’re looking at.

There’s so much gold, the painting glimmers in the light of the falling sun, you take a step forward, unsure of where to begin your examination.

You tilt your head, studying the little flowers first, eyes roaming up to examine the clothing of the two subjects in the portrait, then the hands, the different colours, the flowers in her hair, the leaves in his.

A larger, male subject, pressing a kiss onto his lover’s cheek.

The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt.

“It’s beautiful, so much like the real one.” You murmur absentmindedly.

“It is the real one.”

You pause, unable to register his words, before turning to him in shock, lips parted.

The alpha’s pleased expression grows into a smile.

“What do you mean this is the real one? The real one’s in Europe somewhere.”

He nods, as if to agree with you.

“Vienna, yes.”

You turn to examine the painting once more.

“...How?...Why?”

“I think you’ll find that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make your eyes glitter like they are right now.”

Me? You think in shock, looking away, down, towards the floor, unable to process the implications of his words.

He takes a step closer to you, catching your attention, you turn to him just as he reaches you.

For a long moment, all you do is look into each other’s eyes. You take a slow breath, breathing in his citrus smell, the bergamot chasing after you.

You turn your head back to the painting, studying it while you feel his eyes on you.

“It’s gorgeous, Alpha, thank you.” You feel so much emotion, that it fills your throat and threatens to spill out.

Your lip wobbles, glancing up at him for a moment, and then turning away when you realise that he can probably see the tears in your eyes.

You feel his hand on your arm.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why the tears?”

“It’s stupid, sorry.” You take a deep breath, sighing when he extends a handkerchief to you that you accept gratefully.

His hand moves, to wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest.

“Talk to me.” He whispers, his breath disturbing your hair.

“No one’s ever-” You let out a little laugh of delirium, “-No one’s ever done something so thoughtful for me.”

He hums, as though he understands, sympathizes with you, he wraps his arms around you, tucks your head into his chest.

His scent wraps around you, soothing you almost instantly, your eyes flutter shut as you register the beat of his heart below your ear.

“I just wanted to see you smile.” He says.

You do.

Dinner comes in a few moments later, and he guides you to the table just behind, with soft, comfortable chairs to settle into. He even checks in on your level of ease, inquiring about the brightness, and whether or not it was satisfactory. You smile softly, calmly reassuring him that the area was perfect, the tint on the windows keeping the intensity of the light low. Dim and comfortable, you can’t really ask for anything more.

The first course is a light broth, and you're a little confused that they brought this out without having you look at a menu.

It's definitely refreshing, to not have to struggle with a decision on what to eat, but you're not sure if to ask William about it, in case it's just some rich person custom that you're unfamiliar with.

In any case, this arrangement pleases you because it means you can stare at The Kiss in admiration while the sun sets, casting a soft orange glow around the room, enhancing the mostly gold painting.

“Will you tell me about it?” William asks, and you spare a shy glance at him.

He tilts his head in the direction of the painting. You swallow your food, gathering your thoughts to answer.

“It's inspired by the painter and his lover, it's one of the most popular paintings of an alpha and omega pairing. There was a… speculation that they were soulmates, but I'm not sure how true that is. Some people think that because the omega is turning away, that the kiss isn't consensual… but I don't think so, she seems… happy to me.”

“You don't think they were soulmates?”

You turn to William.

“Not really, I don't… believe in the soulmate theory.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“No?” He says curiously.

You shake your head.

“It's a little unreal to think that there’s some kind of perfect match for a person.”

“It's not necessarily a perfect match like in the movies, it's a suggestion of… compatibility really.” He says.

You blink, studying his expression, wanting to express your disbelief that he would believe in something so farfetched but not wanting to be disrespectful.

“It's not even a perfect match, it's the way the theory specifically targets alpha and omega pairings. As if omegas aren't already bound by their biology enough, someone had to come up with an idea to hold us back even further by romanticising the concept of an alpha match.” You keep your tone calm, so that he understands you're not upset.

He tilts his head in contemplation.

“You don't like the idea of being with an alpha?”

You swallow.

“That's… not what I mean. I just don't like being forced into thinking that it's my only option in search of companionship.”

He makes a face of contemplation, seeming to understand where you were coming from.

Plus, it was a trick alphas had used with you in the past to encourage you to stay in toxic environments.

Don't give up on us, omega, we're soulmates, I can feel it.

You had been fooled before, it would not happen again.

William studies you for a long moment, and you gaze back evenly, before he smiles, tilting his head once more to lighten the mood.

“You make a good point, but still, I can’t help but point out the ways alphas are made for omegas, of course a pairing between them would be stronger.”

His words take you aback, it's the first time someone has ever made the comment that alphas are the ones made for omegas, usually they say it the other way around.

“Maybe…” You concede, unable to stop yourself from thinking about his words. You wonder for a brief moment if he was made for you.

It sends a warm feeling across your chest.

You turn your head, looking up at The Kiss.

“My past experience has made me skeptical about the entire theory, Alphas before have used it to keep me compliant.”

He lets out an audible breath, and when you turn your head to look at him, you find his fists curled and his head dipped low.

The scent of anger hits you, spicy in the air, like a mix between smoke and hot peppers.

“Alpha?” You whisper in concern, worried that his anger is directed toward you.

Tentatively, you reach out, fingers shaking slightly as you touch one of his clenched fists.

He relaxes the fist, turns his hand upward so that his palm is pressed upward into yours. Your palm tingles where you touch.

“Angry on your behalf, omega,” He tries to explain with a low voice, “You shouldn't have had to go through that.”

Realisation washes over you. The smell of his anger excites you now that you understand it's not directed at you.

You feel butterflies, you feel warmth, you suck in a deep breath to get some semblance of control over your hindbrain.

“Thank you, Alpha.” Your voice, almost a purr.

He blinks, studying you, his eyes shifting from surprise to pleased as he realises the effect he has on you.

The sound of footsteps coming your way makes you draw back.

The second course is lobster pasta, creamy and delicious and you try extra hard not to make yourself messy while eating it.

“What do you think?” He asks between bites of his food.

You look up, eyes wide as he gazes back at you.

You swallow your food, thinking hard about what to say.

“I'm still skeptical about the soulmate theory, but maybe you're right that it does exist. Looking at the painting up close, you see that gold aura surrounding both of them? I think that's supposed to represent their bond. They loved each other, there's no question there.”

You watch a smile pull onto his perfect face.

“I meant the meal, sweetheart.”

Your face grows warm.

“Oh… It's good!” You look down at the plate shyly, “Yeah.”

He chuckles.

“You're very cute when you're shy.”

You bite the edge of your lip, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He grins down at you and something warm settles in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him.

Maybe you could, maybe he would let you.

In this beautiful dress you feel like you're not yourself, your insecurities washing away under his gaze. For the first time, you’re just an omega, enjoying the company of an alpha that you hope could be yours in time.

You think about being in his arms, the way he makes you feel, his ability to soothe you, the ways you hope he would sate you.

You suck in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before your pheromones give away your needy state of mind.

Should you take him up on his offer to be his Omega? Would it be possible to balance that? How would it even work?

“William?” You say softly.

He pauses his movements to look at you.

“Earlier- Maria called you ‘Billy’- made me wonder if you were friends?”

The corner of his lips pull into an affectionate smile, you try really hard not to worry about the other omega.

“Maria is mated to my brother, Frank. She owns a small salon on the east side, I thought she would help you feel comfortable.”

That's so thoughtful, you think.

“Yes, she was amazing, thank you.”

If this was a trap, then it was well set, you couldn't see a flaw, you didn't have any reason to think he could be like other Alphas.

“Everyone has called me “Billy” for as long as I can remember. My real name had never really appealed to me until I heard you say it.”

You give him a warm smile, your stomach fluttering at the privilege you didn't realize you had until now.

You wanted this so much that it terrified you. To be his Omega- what would it be like? To have unrestrained access to him, to be able to scent him as you please, to be scented in return.

He sucks in a sharp breath, leaning away, it catches your attention. Your eyes widen when you realise your pheromones are heavy in the air.

His eyes roll shut, he lets out a shaky breath, fingers curling because of you for the second time tonight.

It doesn't help, the look of him, barely restrained, fighting his nature with every ounce of self control only makes you want him more.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, scared to break his focus.

He lets out a breath, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth. The look of leashed delirium in his eyes when he finally opens them.

“Don't be.” He responds, his voice so deep that it almost makes you shiver with how pleasing it sounds.

You suck in deep breaths too, to calm yourself, eyes drifting to the painting to let it distract you.

You certainly were a match, there was no question about it, the urge to tear at each other was there, the only thing holding you back was social etiquette, and your internal reservations.

The effect your heat must have had on him- you almost feel sorry for what you might have put him through.

Dessert is a caramel drizzled pecan cookie, soft and chewy, the right amount of spices and sugar that makes you lick your fingers afterwards with the knowledge that it was the best cookie you've ever had.

You catch him looking at you with kind eyes and you try your best not to shy away from his gaze.

When you excuse yourself to the restroom, you try to look like you know where you're going, at least until you're out of his eyesight, and then you wander around the empty restaurant until you find a sign pointing you in the right direction.

You’re in one of the stalls when you hear loud voices and footsteps.

“-my god! That is literally the hottest Alpha I’ve ever seen in real life.” A first voice says, on the side of a little too high pitched for your sensitive ears.

“I knoooow,” The other person responds, “I would literally do anything he asked me to do.”

You pause, feeling a little strange to interrupt their obviously personal conversation by stepping out.

“I heard from Tim that he rented out the entire restaurant for the night just to impress some omega.”

Wait, were they talking about William?

You hear the stall next to you open and close, the taps turning on.

“No, I think they had to clear the restaurant for the night because of the painting and something about security.”

“Oh, that makes sense, the amount he must have paid to get all that done in one evening. God, I would jump him literally after dessert.”

You hear a groan, the sound of water as the taps turn on.

“I know right? I’ve been totally scenting the air in hopes that he gives me a second look. Nothing too obvious, only subtle enough for him. I really, really hope…”

The rest is unintelligible as the voices fade.

You wait a few more moments to make sure they’re really gone before you unlatch the door and step out.

It’s a lot of information to have overheard, and you’re not really sure what to think.

You step up to the sink, washing your hands methodically, reaching for a little towel to dry your hands, before looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

You smile at yourself, hindbrain preening that Alpha had gone through such lengths to capture and hold your attention. That maybe, Alpha wanted you, really really wanted you and no other omega would do.

He’s standing at the painting when you see him again, the table has been cleared, and you watch him as he focuses on the canvas in front of him.

He turns to look at you when he catches movement in his peripherals.

You’re very skittish to approach him, your mind spinning at a mile a minute, trying to both overthink and under simplify the actions you want to make.

The expression on your face must worry him, his eyebrows draw together as he studies you.

“Is everything alright?” He asks calmly, and you lift your head, studying his face of concentration.

You part your lips, trying to speak, no words able to leave your moving lips.

He dips his head, trying to make sense of the nothingness escaping you.

His scent fills your nose, the citrus, the bergamot, a very new touch of spice that pushes your hindbrain into desperation.

“Alpha.” You whisper softly, a touch of yearning in your voice, tilting your head up to press your lips to his.

It’s an instant, and total erasure of any higher thought. The way his mouth feels against yours, like something ancient and primal finding its way back to each other again. A familiarity that your mind and body has been searching for from the day you presented.

It’s over too soon, even though it feels like it lasted forever. Time slows as you lean away, looking up at him, searching his eyes for any sign that you’ve made the wrong move, the ghost of his touch tingling at your lips.

You listen to the depth of his breathing, your heart hammering anxiously in your chest, awaiting his reaction. You catch a flare of his scent, the citrus notes deepening and your hindbrain eases your anxiety, a response that tells you that Alpha is pleased.

Finally, he makes a low hum, stepping forward, one arm winding around your back so that your bodies are pressed flush to each other.

“Omega.” He rumbles in response, fingers under your chin to tilt your head, guiding your mouth to his once more.

His mouth is insistent, pressing back, meeting every move of your desire with a response of his own. He moans, his warm breath on your tongue as the kiss grows into something… more.

Losing yourself, your hands cling to his shoulders, finding balance as you rise onto your toes, desperate to taste him, to feel the ache of yearning ease with each move of his mouth.

His lips are soft, sinful, you can feel his barely restrained movements, his hand gliding to grip the back of your neck, trapping you in place as if you could ever think about departing from his embrace.

Your scent gland tingles, spilling your need into the air, your body trying its best to entice him.

His mouth grows more insistent, demanding, and you find yourself responding, lips parting, tongue reaching out to gently graze along his bottom lip.

His hold on you tightens, fingers gripping your hip deliciously, desire pooling low in your stomach in response.

Both of his hands cup your face, kisses slowing as if he's trying to find the strength to stop but unable to.

You smile into the kisses, each one more meaningful than the last, until finally he pauses, looking down at you with a pleased expression on his face.

His thumb glides along your lips, the scent of both your desires intermingling heavily in the air.

“I take it then, that you don't want me to leave you alone after this?”

You huff out a laugh, almost rolling your eyes.

He grins too, before leaning in to get one more kiss.

“Maybe,” you murmur softly, “Maybe I don't.”

He hums in agreement, dipping his head, unable to stop himself from getting yet another kiss.

Your heart feels so full in your chest, it feels like you're going to burst with the flood of emotion. He doesn't push you into anything, avoids touching your scent glands though you know you both want him to. You can feel his fingers tightening their grip on your cheek and jaw, trying their hardest not to wander.

His scent grows more potent in the room, and by the time you leave, the betas in the restaurant are giving him their largest doe eyed stares.

It's a shame for them that he barely spares them a glance, his hand settled on the small of your back to put you at ease by making you feel protected.

His scent overwhelms you in the car, but you've been aching and wet for a while and you've just kind of gotten used to the discomforts of unresolved desire. You know without a doubt that you're going to have to relieve this ache inside of you by yourself tonight, and it's definitely going to be his name on your tongue the entire time you do it.

You take a long look at him beside you, and you wonder if he would be doing the same.

Tucked into his side, it's easy to tilt your head up, and press your nose to his scent gland, breathing him in, hearing him groan in response, your body tingling.

He doesn't stop you, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip hard to stop yourself from kissing the spot on the base of his neck.

It's surreal, the time you spend with him, that when he stops at the wrong building, it's like a punch to the gut.

This is where you'd lied and told him you lived… because you were ashamed of your real address.

“Can I walk you to your door?” He asks politely, warm reassurance in his eyes that he simply wants to make sure you're safe.

“No.” You answer hastily, smiling in an attempt to put him at ease, “I'm alright, thank you.”

You glance down at your strawberry dress, anxiety filling you at the thought of being seen in something like this, that it might catch attention you didn't want.

“It's cold outside, do you want my coat?”

You blink up at him in surprise.

He gives you a teasing smile, reaching for a garment on the seat in front of him, producing a familiar coat and extending it to you.

You swallow, accepting the coat on autopilot, face heating as you remember the things you did with this coat during your last heat.

You bring it up to your nose, hindbrain in control, taking a slow inhale of his scent.

Fuck, it was delicious. Your mouth waters as you meet his dark eyes.

“Thank you, Alpha.” You purr, sliding the coat on, over your dress, watching his eyes darken further at the sound of your voice.

He reaches up, trapping a lock of your hair between his fingers, twisting it, tugging on it gently as his hand slides down.

He looks like he’s deep in thought, but you’re just not sure about what.

“Goodnight, Omega.” He finally says, after a few moments of silence.

Stepping out of the car, leaving him behind, your limbs grow heavy with protest the further away you get from him.

When you make it into the building, you finally see his SUV drive away.

There’s an ache to leaving you behind that leaves Billy both confused and captivated.

He lets out a slow breath, sinking into the seat, head tipped back.

Keeping himself in check had been the most difficult thing he’d ever experienced. To look at you, was to want you, and to want you, was to need you. Every look, every touch, every smile on your mouth was a lesson in self control.

He was unbelievably afraid of scaring you away, that his control would slip, and his desires would show, and they would terrify you into leaving.

The ways he wanted you, the ways he thought about you. He lets out a soft groan, tugging at his shirt to get himself more air, but all he can smell is you.

He wants the feel of your bare hips in his hands, the taste of your skin in his mouth, his lips over your scent gland, your pitiful little whines filling his ears as he takes his time with you, discovering every way one human can make another fall apart, so that he can put you back together again.

Thoughts, that were maybe too insane to be thinking after a second date. Thoughts that would make you run if you knew just how close he’d been to actually carrying them out. No Omega, had ever made him hurt with the fear of rejection quite like this before.

That solid ache in his chest to be in your presence was only getting stronger, and then you'd kissed him.

He lifts a hand, pressing it to his mouth, remembering the way your lips had felt, the way your scent had sweetened. He resists a groan, your scent calling out to him like a beacon in the dark.

With his eyes closed, he could feel a pull, drawing him in the opposite direction of where he was going.

His apartment is lonely. The silence is loud, the smell is all wrong. He fits himself into his single sofa chair, large enough that his pretty Omega could fit herself into the space beside him, or on top of him if she’d like. He sips on the whiskey in his hand, an attempt to ease his nerves, to make the wrongness of his place feel a little less so.

He lets the silence fill him, wonders what you’re doing, thinks about texting you. He opens his phone and sees all his sent messages.

Billy hesitates.

Maybe he should wait, let you reach out this time, whenever you were ready.

Puts his phone down, thinks about you more, groans when he catches your scent on his clothes.

It hurt to wait. It made his chest burn with the notion that he couldn’t just reach out to you, because you might draw back.

He presses a hand to his chest, tries to take a deep breath and be patient.

The whiskey is almost finished when he feels his phone vibrate.

He picks it up, and smiles.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega!Reader #Alpha!Billy Russo

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mandoalorian · 1 month ago

Text

the making of a king [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: As Congressman Barnes steps into the political arena, he realises the battle for power is only just beginning. As he claims his place in the race, unseen forces move against him—forces that know exactly where to strike. The war for the presidency isn’t just about policy. It’s about control. And the only way to control Bucky Barnes… is through you.

Word Count: 6380

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content, employer x employee, anal, fingering, m recieving oral, buttplay/butt stuff, bucky eats ass, f recieving oral, biting, canon typical plot devices and politics

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

The soft hum of the kitchen fan filled the quiet safe house as you moved around, fixing lunch for Bucky. After the intense, heated moment you’d shared earlier, your body still buzzed with warmth, but your mind was steady, content. He sat at the small dining table, watching you with that quiet, observant gaze of his, elbows resting on the wooden surface as his vibranium fingers drummed lightly against the grain.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he said, voice low and rough from the weight of the morning.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching the way his gaze softened when you met it. “I know,” you teased, “but someone’s gotta take care of you. And I like it being me.”

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue. You finished plating the sandwiches and set them down in front of him, taking the seat beside him. For a moment, it was just the sound of the cutlery scraping against the plate, the occasional clink of a glass being set down. The moment felt… domestic. Safe. But there was something lingering in the air—something unspoken.

Bucky was the one to break the silence. “How are you feeling?”

You wiped your mouth with a napkin, looking at him. “Better,” you admitted. “I think I just needed a moment to breathe.”

His jaw tensed, but he nodded, accepting your answer. It wasn’t what he meant. “And… about Russia?”

You hesitated, setting down your cutlery and thinking hard. “I wish I could tell you more, but… I don’t remember anything.” Your brows furrowed. “It’s weird. I know I was there, but it’s like someone took an eraser to my memory and just… wiped it clean.”

Bucky’s grip tightened on his fork. He set it down with a deliberate motion and leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly through his nose. “That’s not normal,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. Your admission sent shivers running down Bucky’s spine, and naturally, he thought about all the times he was put into cryo, every time he came close to remembering something he shouldn't have. And then, he’d wake up, be activated, and have no recollection of his life prior. It was haunting.

You reached for his hand, your fingers sliding over the cool vibranium. “I know. But I’m okay now.”

Bucky didn’t look convinced, but he let it go.

When you finished eating, you stretched your arms over your head. “Alright, time for me to get dressed for the press conference.”

Bucky’s expression shifted immediately. “You’re not coming.”

You blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“I need you to stay here,” he said firmly. “It’s not safe.”

Your lips parted, caught between offense and understanding. “Bucky—”

He reached for his phone, already dialing. “Yelena’s gonna come keep you company.”

You groaned. “So, I don’t even get a say in this?”

He arched a brow. “No.”

You crossed your arms, sighing dramatically. “The assistant in me wants to fight you for taking away my work duties,” you admitted, tilting your head. “But the girlfriend in me…” Your voice softened as you reached out, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Well, she doesn’t want to do anything that would make you unhappy.”

You were really starting to like this domestic life with Bucky; a life that you never believed would have suited you. You loved waking up in his arms, basking in the morning glow of the sun. You loved cooking for him and having the house clean for when he gets home. Of course you missed going to work, those late nights spent in the office with the Congressman, but you would have never expected to love this calm and quiet life even more. Bucky took care of you, and made you feel good, and you found pleasure in doing the same for him.

Bucky’s lips twitched, and then he leaned in, catching your mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand came up, fingers sliding through your hair, tilting your head so he could kiss you deeper, longer.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’ll be back soon.”

You exhaled softly. “You better be.”

He smirked, squeezing your waist before stepping back. “Don’t cause too much trouble while I’m gone.”

You huffed. “No promises.”

And with that, he slipped out of the door to the safehouse and out into the street. His personal driver was waiting for him a few blocks away, as usual, and as Bucky navigated New York’s bustling nature, he thought about you.

This fight wasn’t even about him anymore, it was about you. He wouldn’t let Hydra take away the most important thing in his life; but when you said you couldn’t remember, and when he saw you get injected with that unnaturally dark, syrupy serum, his stomach twisted. As Bucky slipped into the back of the car, his phone vibrated.

Bruce: I have Ross’ serum. I’ll be handing it over to Sam later today. Best of luck with this, Buck. You know you got my support.

Bucky sighed an air of relief as the car spun down the road. He closed his eyes, thinking over the press conference, thinking over his life. Bucky’s life was cruel and long, filled with chaos and misadventure, from getting unwillingly drafted in the war, to spending seventy years in captivity, to being freed and forced to take time to recover, learning to navigate a world where he was hated. Feared, even. Entering the world of politics came as a surprise for Bucky too, but he was so glad he did, for if it wasn’t for being a member of Congress, he would have never have gotten this close to you.

The air was thick with anticipation as the press conference began. The White House briefing room was packed—journalists squeezed shoulder to shoulder, cameras flashing, recorders held high. The entire world was watching.

Bucky watched from the sidelines. “Relax man,” Sam Wilson appeared out of nowhere, placing his palm flat against Bucky’s back. Bucky breathed an air of relief and turned to his friend who was doting the full red, white and blue hero get up. Bucky stifled a laugh.

“Nice outfit.” He sniggered.

Sam rolled his eyes, which were shaded by red tinged goggles. “Well someone had to go save the world before attending this conference,” he said sarcastically. “When duty calls.”

“Did Banner get the serum to you?” Bucky asked quietly.

Sam nodded silently. “I will deliver the package to him after the conference, on the condition that Ross does what is right.”

Bucky nodded knowingly and as the loud introductory music started playing, Bucky and Sam watched eagerly as Thaddeus Ross walked onto the stage. There was no telling how this was going to go.

At the podium, President Ross stood stiffly, his hands gripping the sides like a man awaiting his own sentencing. His face was drawn, lined with exhaustion. He cleared his throat, the microphone amplifying the small sound before he finally spoke.

“Good afternoon,” he began, his voice steady but worn. “I stand before you today not as a leader, but as a man who has made mistakes. Grave mistakes.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Bucky stood off to the side, back in the shadows, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Ross continued. “For years, I have served this country under the illusion of control. But I was never in control—not truly. Hydra was.”

The room erupted into shocked whispers, cameras flashing at a rapid pace. Ross was really doing it. He was telling his truth and reaffirming everything that Bucky had come out with.

Ross held up a hand, silencing them. “I was a pawn, manipulated and coerced through means I do not wish upon any man. Their reach… it extended further than I ever imagined. And because of my weakness, because of my inability to fight back, I allowed their influence to fester within our government.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he watched Ross shift, his grip tightening on the podium.

“I will not stand here and pretend I am blameless,” Ross admitted. “But I will not allow Hydra to win. Effective immediately, I am stepping down as President of the United States.”

The room was chaos. Shouted questions overlapped, journalists scrambling to process the breaking news.

Ross exhaled, his shoulders sagging. “Before I go, I must do one last thing. I owe an apology to this nation. To every citizen I have failed. And to my daughter… Betty.”

A hush fell over the crowd. Ross’ eyes glistened, but he held himself together. “I know that stepping down does not absolve me, nor does it erase the damage done. But I promise you this—Hydra will fall. And I place my faith in the man beside me to make that happen.”

Ross turned to Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes.”

The weight of the moment was heavy as Bucky stepped forward. He and Ross exchanged a nod—one of reluctant respect, of understanding.

Ross leaned closer. “I sent you the coordinates,” he muttered under his breath.

Bucky gave the barest of nods before taking his place at the podium. Ross stepped back, the former President now just a man walking away from the mess he helped create.

Bucky let the room settle before he spoke. “I’m not here to clean up Ross’ mess,” he stated plainly. “I’m here to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

A tension-filled silence stretched across the room.

“For years, Hydra has hidden in the shadows, manipulating governments, infiltrating organizations, and turning good men into weapons. No more.” His voice was firm, resolute. “This country deserves transparency. It deserves leaders who will fight for them, not control them.”

A journalist raised their hand. “And do you believe President Ross was one of those controlled men?”

Bucky met their gaze. “Yes,” he said simply. “Ross acted under duress. But let me make one thing clear—this is not me defending him. This is me stating the truth. If we are to dismantle Hydra, we need to understand their reach. Their tactics. Their power.”

More voices piped up, more questions fired. Then, one cut through the noise.

“Congressman Barnes—will you be running for President?”

The room fell silent.

It was the question the world had been asking; the question that had hounded Bucky for days. It had been all over social media, the theories and conspiracies…

Bucky’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard for the first time. His steel-blue eyes narrowed, scanning the sea of eager faces. “Is that what you people want?” His question was almost timid as he measured it up in his head.

A roar of agreement surged through the crowd.

Bucky exhaled, staring at the podium as if he was weighing the weight of the world. Then, he straightened his spine and looked up.

“Then consider this my official announcement.”

The briefing room was in chaos. Ross had stepped down. Hydra’s grip on the government was exposed. And now—Bucky Barnes had just announced his candidacy for President of the United States.

The roar of journalists was deafening. Everyone wanted answers.

Bucky stood firm at the podium, gripping the edges like a man holding his ground in a battlefield. He let the noise settle just enough before he spoke again.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” he said, his voice calm but unwavering. “What qualifies me to lead? I’m not a politician. I don’t have a history in government. What I have is a history of fighting against tyranny. And I promise you, I will not stop until Hydra is wiped from every corner of this world.”

The flashes of cameras made the room flicker like a storm of lightning. Hands shot up, but Bucky wasn’t finished.

“I won’t turn my back on Ross,” he continued, his tone firm. “Despite his mistakes, despite the past, I will stand by him. Because I know what it’s like to be used. To have your actions dictated by someone else’s agenda. He may have worn the title of President, but he was never truly in control. And that’s exactly what Hydra wanted.”

Another uproar. A cacophony of voices. But this time, Bucky motioned toward the crowd. “Go ahead. Ask.”

The first journalist jumped in immediately. “Congressman Barnes, do you truly believe President Ross is a victim in all of this?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched slightly before he answered. “I believe in accountability. But I also believe in the truth. Ross was manipulated, same as I was. You all know what Hydra did to me. How they used me. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the world isn’t black and white. So no—I’m not absolving him. But I am choosing to protect him. Because that’s what I do.”

More questions fired at once.

“Speaking of your past—how can the American people trust a man once known as the Winter Soldier?”

Bucky exhaled slowly. “Because I am not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore.” His vibranium fingers flexed against the podium. “That name—it was given to me by Hydra. It was their way of erasing the man I used to be. But I fought my way back. And now I choose who I am.” His blue eyes scanned the room, daring anyone to challenge him. “I am James Buchanan Barnes. And I will fight for this country until my last breath.”

Another journalist cut in. “What about Russia? What happened there? Reports suggest you were involved in classified operations. Can you confirm or deny?”

Bucky’s face remained unreadable. “I can confirm that I was there. And I can confirm that Hydra’s reach extends far beyond what any of us realized. But details of that mission? That’s not information I can disclose just yet. What I can tell you is that we uncovered evidence that changes everything.”

Murmurs spread through the press.

Someone else shouted, “What about Steve Rogers? Do you think he’d support this decision?”

Bucky’s lips pressed together at the mention of Steve’s name. He tilted his head slightly, thinking. Then, he smirked—just barely. “I think Steve would’ve laughed his ass off if he knew I was standing here.” A small chuckle rippled through the room. “But yeah. I think he’d be proud.”

Another journalist jumped in. “Your past isn’t just linked to Hydra. You have… a complicated history. Criminal accusations, past assassinations, war crimes—”

Bucky’s smirk disappeared. His expression turned stone-cold.

“I’ve answered for my past,” he said evenly. “Every crime, every action I took under Hydra’s control—I have spent years making amends. You think I don’t live with it? You think I don’t remember every name, every face?” His voice hardened. “But let’s get one thing straight. I will never be controlled again.”

The room stilled.

Then, the next question came. And this one was personal.

“Congressman Barnes — we just love your relationship with your assistant. But don’t you think your candidacy as president will endanger her?”

Bucky’s fingers drummed against the podium. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced down, lips twitching slightly before looking back up. “Next question.”

The journalists weren’t having it.

“Come on, Congressman Barnes—" “Is it true she was taken by Hydra?” “There are photos of you two—" “Are you together?” “Is she safe?”

Bucky’s smirk faded. His jaw clenched as his eyes swept across the sea of reporters, his patience thinning. Finally, he spoke. And his voice was low. Steady.

“She is none of your concern.”

Another stunned silence.

Then, a final question rang through the room.

“Congressman Barnes, you’ve spent your life as a soldier. You’ve fought wars, toppled regimes, dismantled Hydra’s operations. But can you lead a country?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly. He let the question settle, let the weight of it press against his chest.

Then, he exhaled. “I don’t have all the answers,” he admitted. “I won’t stand here and pretend I’m some perfect candidate. But what I do know is this—I will fight for this country. Not as a soldier. Not as a weapon. But as a man who refuses to let history repeat itself.”

His voice dropped lower, rougher. “I won’t let them take control again. Not while I’m still breathing.”

With that, he stepped away from the podium.

The room exploded.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The sound of fists meeting padded mitts echoed through the safe house’s underground training room. The air was thick with exertion, each strike sharp and precise. You threw a jab, followed by a cross, then a sharp kick. Yelena barely flinched, catching your movements with ease.

“Again,” she ordered.

You rolled your shoulders, exhaling before launching another attack. This time, Yelena let your fist hit the mitt before twisting, knocking you off balance with a quick leg sweep. You hit the mat with a sharp thud.

“You punch like my guinea pig," Yelena commented, standing over you. "If I was someone else, you’d be dead."

You groaned, pushing yourself up. “What does that even mean: I ‘punch like your guniea pig’?”

She smirked. “I don’t know, but it’s not good. I’m alive, which is more than I can say for you if you keep fighting like that."

You shot her a glare but took the offered hand, letting her yank you to your feet. “You’re annoying.”

Yelena circled you, assessing. "Something feels… off about you."

You frowned. "Off how?"

She tilted her head, scrutinizing. "You’ve always been strong, but now? It’s like you’re holding back without realising it. The way you’re fighting… it’s like something has shifted.”

Your stomach twisted. "That doesn’t make sense."

"Doesn’t it?" Yelena mused. Then, in a flash, she lunged.

Instinct kicked in before thought. Your body moved on its own—ducking, twisting, countering—until you caught her wrist, yanked her forward, and threw her.

Hard.

Yelena slammed against the mat with a force that sent a tremor through the room.

Silence.

You blinked, breathing heavy, realising what you’d done.

Yelena just laid there for a moment, stunned. Then, she laughed. "Oh. Shit."

You took a step back. "I—I didn’t mean to do that."

Yelena sat up, rubbing her spine. "Well, damn, sweetheart. If you wanted to kill me, you could have just said so."

Panic fluttered in your chest. You weren’t supposed to be that strong. That wasn’t—

Yelena squinted at you. "Okay. New plan."

She shot to her feet and before you could react, she grabbed a 25-pound weight plate from the rack and tossed it at you.

Your hands snapped up instinctively—catching it with zero struggle.

Yelena whistled. "Okay. Yeah. That’s not normal."

Your heart pounded as you slowly lowered the weight. "It’s just adrenaline," you insisted. You swallowed hard, setting the weight down like it was nothing.

Yelena crossed her arms. "So… when were you planning on telling Bucky that you’re basically a baby super-soldier now?"

You bit your lip. "I—I don’t think it’s anything. I’ve just been training harder."

"Yeah, no," Yelena deadpanned. "That’s not training. That’s serum level strength, babe. And unless you’ve been hitting the gym like Captain America on steroids, I think you need to face the fact that something is very wrong."

You stared at your hands, flexing your fingers. They felt the same. You felt the same.

But Yelena was right.

Something was off.

Before you could spiral, your phone buzzed on the bench nearby. You reached for it, flipping it open.

Bucky: I have news. Be home in 20 minutes.

You: Good news? I hope.

Bucky: Wear something I can tear off you.

You could almost hear his dark, gravelly chuckle through the phone.

Yelena groaned again, grabbing her water bottle. You hadn’t realised she was watching you text. “Is this your new thing? I didn’t know Bucky had it in him to sext. I’m impressed, I think.”

You slipped your phone into your pocket and shook your head, heat flushing your cheeks with embarrassment. “Hardly sexting.” You muttered.

“Alright, whatever. I’m leaving before he gets home. Try not to break the bed with your new freakish strength."

You shot her a glare. "Shut up."

She winked. "See you tomorrow, baby Hulk."

Then, she was gone.

And you were left staring at your phone, heart hammering, knowing that in just a few minutes… Bucky Barnes would be walking through that door.

And you’d be waiting for him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You adjusted the strap of your black lace lingerie, a different set to what you were wearing yesterday, exhaling as you checked yourself in the mirror. The dim lighting cast soft shadows over your skin, the anticipation humming through you like a live wire. You painted your lips a crimson red and looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t usually one to be modest; but you looked incredible.

Bucky’s text was still burning in your mind.

Wear something I can tear off you.

Your stomach tightened, heat spreading through your chest at the sheer authority in his words.

And then—

The sound of the front door unlocking sent a jolt of excitement straight through you.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. The air in the room shifted, like it knew he was here.

Then, Bucky stepped into the doorway, holding a boquet of roses in the crook of his elbow and a small, teal blue Tiffany’s giftbag.

And when he saw you, sat at your vanity, he froze.

His ocean-blue eyes dragged over you, slow and devouring, like he was drinking in every inch of your body. His suit jacket hung open, his tie loosened like he’d ripped it off in the car, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the solid steel of his forearm.

And his jaw—his jaw—ticked as he took a long, slow inhale through his nose.

A dangerous, predatory silence stretched between you.

Then, suddenly—

You let out a sharp gasp as Bucky crossed the room in three long strides, grabbing you at the waist and hoisting you up against him. His lips crashed into yours, all-consuming, as his body pressed you back onto the bed.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his breath hot against your lips. His hands roamed, fingers tracing over lace and skin, like he couldn’t decide whether to worship you or devour you whole. “I love coming home to this.”

You giggled, bringing your hands to cup his face as he peppered delicate kisses along your jaw. “Bucky,” you said softly. “You said you had news?”

Bucky pulled away from you and handed you the bouquet of roses. “These are for you,” He announced. “I realised your my girlfriend and I have never bought you flowers and that’s just not right so…”

You beamed, your eyes sparkling at the gesture. “Oh, they’re beautiful. Let me go put them in water.” You went to stand up but Bucky’s hand came down to your shoulder and he pushed you back down into your seat.

“Wait, not yet, I have something else for you. Close your eyes.”

You heard the crinkling of tissue paper as Bucky dipped his hand into the bag. You heard the opening of a small velvet box and felt him move your hair out of your face, his warm fingers grazing your collarbones. Bucky delicately placed the thin gold chain around your neck, adorned with a heart shaped locket, and fastened it in place.

“Open your eyes.”

You looked at it in the reflection of yourself in the mirror. Bucky stood behind you, his gaze unable to leave yours in the reflection.

“Oh wow,” you whispered in disbelief. “This had to have been so expensive Bucky, I— you didn’t have to—“

“Do you like it?” Bucky asked quietly, his eyes filled with worry.

You turned around and kissed him hard. “I love it. And I love you,” You clicked open the locket to find it was empty. “I want to put a photo of you in it.”

Bucky chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “You don’t have to. Don’t ruin it with a picture of me…”

You gasped and feigned shock, playfully smacking him on the shoulder. “Oh don’t you say things like that,” you warned him with a soft smile. You stood up and wrapped your hands around his face, letting them drift down his body to his chest. “I can’t believe this is my life now.”

Bucky swallowed nervously. “I know,” he breathed, his ocean blue eyes not leaving yours. “I uh— my news though, it might change this…”

His voice trailed off and you felt your heart drop in your chest. “What?”

And then—casually—he dropped the bomb.

“I’m running for president.”

Your brain short-circuited. You searched his eyes for elaboration but got nothing.

You blinked. "You’re what?”

The Congressman couldn’t help but smile. You were so cute when you were surprised.

Bucky sunk down to your level, nuzzled into your neck, and pressed open-mouthed kisses along your pulse. "President," he murmured against your skin. "Big office. Oval-shaped."

"Yeah, I know what it means, you idiot!" You smacked his shoulder, shoving him just enough to look him in the face. "You’re seriously running?"

He smirked, propping himself up on his elbows. “Well I did consider it for all of five seconds. And it’s what the people want.”

You gawked at him. "The people—Bucky, you just announced this today?"

He nodded, completely unbothered. "Press conference."

"You didn’t think to maybe run that by me first?"

His lips curved, that infuriatingly smug little smirk that melted you every time. "Oh, I didn’t realize I needed my girlfriend’s permission.” He was teasing.

Your breath hitched.

Girlfriend.

The word settled between you like a spark catching fire.

Bucky caught onto it instantly.

His smirk deepened, his nose brushing against yours.

"I do have your permission, don’t I?" he teased, voice dropping to something low and dangerous.

Your stomach flipped.

He was serious. He was really going to run.

And he wasn’t asking for your support.

He was claiming it.

And god, it made sense.

Of course he was running.

Of course he’d take this fight all the way.

And of course he’d come home and sweep you into his arms like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

So, you did the only thing you could.

You fisted the front of his dress shirt, dragging him back down into a kiss so hard it made you both gasp. Bucky groaned, deep and gravelly, and picked you up in his arms before dropping you down onto the bed. He pressed his entire weight into you, pinning you beneath him like he never wanted to let go.

He moved his lips to your ear, his voice thick with something dark and possessive.

“You okay with being my First Lady?” he murmured the question, his pupils blown big and dark.

Your pulse jumped and you nodded wordlessly. His fingers traced along the lace of your lingerie, slow, purposeful.

“Yes, Mr. President,” you bit your lip, fingers tangling in his hair. Your breath hitched.

His nose brushed your jawline as he exhaled, shaky and desperate. Your stomach flipped as you tilted your chin up, brushing your lips against his.

"I’m yours, Bucky."

Bucky exhaled sharply, like you’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.

Then—

He kissed you senseless.

And you let him.

Bucky kissed you like he needed to prove something.

Like claiming you with words wasn’t enough.

Like he had to mark it into your skin, so deep that you'd feel it in your bones.

He rolled his hips against you, pinning you beneath his weight, and God—the sheer size of him made your breath stutter.

"You’re mine," he murmured between fevered kisses, voice rough, gravelly.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging hard, and his sharp inhale sent a rush of heat straight through you.

"You already won, Bucky," you teased, breathless. "No one else even stood a chance."

His blue eyes darkened, flashing with something dangerous.

"Say it again."

Your stomach flipped, something molten curling low in your belly.

"I’m yours," you whispered.

Bucky growled, pressing his lips to your jaw, your throat—anywhere he could touch, taste, claim.

Then, suddenly—

He bit you.

You gasped, fingers tightening in his hair as his teeth sank into the soft skin of your neck, just enough to make you feel it.

Heat coiled in your stomach.

"Bucky," you whispered, voice trembling.

He licked over the mark, soothing it, before pressing another open-mouthed kiss right over the spot.

And then he did it again.

And again.

Until he was satisfied—until your skin was littered with his marks.

"Good girl," he rasped, lips brushing against your pulse.

A shiver ran through you.

Bucky exhaled, heavy, slow, before pulling back to look at you.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured.

You cupped his jaw, tracing your thumb along his stubble-roughened cheek. "Then show me," you whispered.

His breath hitched and he brought his hands down to his slacks, removing them, along with his boxer briefs, in one swift movement. He hung hard and you felt your mouth begin to water for him.

Licking your lips, you took him in your hands, your fingers tracing the vein that defined his length. Then, you placed a kitten lick over his head, savouring the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

“Oh baby,” Bucky groaned, his cock twitching in your hand with agonising desperation. He brought one hand down to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair, and his other unoccupied hand down to your breast, cupping it through the material of your lingerie. Then, in a sudden movement, he yanked it down, exposing your skin to the cool air. His cold, steel Vibranium fingers brushed over your already hard nipples, pinching them only occasionally.

“There’s uh— there’s something I’ve been wanting to try,” you announced quietly, pressing a kiss to the tip of Bucky’s cock before standing up and pulling him up with you. You ran your hands over his chest, peeling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. You took him over to your vanity and you leaned against it.

“Yeah? What’s that doll?” Bucky asked quizically, his eyes dark with lust.

You took a deep breath before leaning over the desk of your vanity and opening your legs, your glistening wet folds on full show for your boyfriend who was behind you. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, and looked at Bucky who was totally and utterly mesmerised by you. He brought his hand down to his cock, fisting at it.

“You want me to take you from behind?” Bucky asked with bewilderment. “We’ve done that before.”

You giggled shyly. “No, Buck,” you said. “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

Bucky swallowed, his eyes growing comically large at the realisation. “Oh. Oh.”

You bit your lip. “Think you can do that for me, Mr President?” You asked, feigning innocent and fluttering your eyelashes.

Bucky grinned, excitement flickering across his face before breaking the distance between you two. He started by running his fingers along your folds, gathering your slick so he could use it as lubrication. “Would be my pleasure doll,” he said, his voice rough with lust. “But I don’t wanna hurt you so lets start out easy.”

Bucky placed the tip of his index finger over your tight hole, rimming it teasingly before carefully sliding it in. He felt you clench around him as a small gasp escaped your lips at the pressure. Your back arched as you tried to press your ass back into his finger.

“Greedy girl,” Bucky muttered as you sinked into him. “Greedy girls get more than they can take.” He said plainly before suddenly sliding his middle finger in, stretching you open without warning. You gasped, air leaving your lungs as your fingernails scraped against your vanity desk.

“See, I can handle it,” you whimpered, your head dropping between your shoulders. Bucky curled his fingers inside of you, the digits hitting that sweet spot everytime. By now he knew your body like the back of his hand, but this was new, a journey he had not yet explored.

“Fuck, think I could just cum from doing this to you,” he chuckled darkly.

“Mm, not yet,” you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as he built up your high. “I want you to fill me up.”

Bucky mumbled something incoherent before sinking down to his knees and pulling out his fingers with a pop and almost immediately replacing them with his tongue. Your stomach coiled with pleasure as he ate your ass, lapping at it like a starved man. He kneaded your ass, fingers digging into it so hard you know it would bruise, but Bucky wanted exactly that. He loved claiming you as his, making his mark. It was predatory and it was so very him.

Bucky’s tongue probed at your hole and his fingers lunged down to your pussy, circling your clit with intent. “Cum on my fingers,” his voice was dark with command as he continued tongue fucking you. You didn’t think you had ever been this wet in your life, your thighs slick with the mess he was making of you. Lewd, wet noises filled the room. As if on command, you buried your head down into the vanity and released yourself on his fingers, a desperate whine leaving your lips.

Bucky pulled off you with ease before positioning himself between your legs, pushing his achingly hard cock against your tight ring. “Tell me if it hurts baby, tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, placing a soft kiss to your neck.

You can’t do much more than a nod. Bucky hisses as he sinks into you, and you practically bite back a scream as pleasure jolts through your body like a bolt of electricity.

“Ah fuck— too much,” Bucky grits out, holding himself still inside of you as you adjust yourself on his thick girth. “Feels too good.”

His mouth hangs open and his eyes are squeezed shut. “Nuh-uh, open your eyes,” you tell him, surprised you even managed to bite the words out. “I want you to look at yourself in the mirror — I want you to watch yourself as you fuck me.” Bucky followed your instruction without any further words and lazily slung his Vibranium arm around you, holding you in place, the coldness of the metal stinging your sticky hot skin.

Bucky double backs almost barely before cursing under his breath. “I won’t last.” He warns and you hum knowingly.

“Move.” You requested, your voice aching with desperation. Bucky just about abided, snapping his hips into your ass slowly and carefully. You could tell he was overstimulated from the way his face was scrunched up, from the whine in his voice.

“Cum inside me,” you whispered.

Bucky managed to get a few more thrusts in, his hand holding your neck, forcing you to watch him in the mirror as he fucked your ass.

When he spilled inside of you, you let out a cry, his seed painting your walls. You clamped down on him, feeling his cum warm you up, but he was still inside of you, and you had never felt so full. Bucky towered over you, placing a sloppy, hot kiss on your shoulder. “I don’t think I can pull out.” He whispered, the curve of his nose brushing against your neck, his stubble tickling at you.

“It’s okay,” you smiled, turning your head slightly so you could place a soft kiss on his jaw. “You can stay in me for as long as you need.”

Bucky moaned. “You are so perfect.”

In time, Bucky softened inside of you. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, talking about how he was so lucky to have met you, so lucky to have known you, and that he would do anything for you. All of this, he had already proven to you. When he finally was able to pull out, he picked you up in one sweeping motion and gently lay you down on the bed. He spread your legs open and sat in between them, peppering light, baby kisses to the inside of your thighs and watching as his cum leaked out of you.

“I wanna get you cleaned up, sweet girl,” Bucky murmured.

“No,” you replied, holding your hands out and pulling Bucky down on top of you. “Just stay with me here. Lay with me. Please.”

Bucky obliged, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into his chest. In this moment, nothing else mattered because he had you, and he was never going to come close to losing you ever again.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Ethan sat stiffly in his chair, nursing a glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched. Across from him, Tara twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, watching him with thinly veiled disdain.

“You had one job,” she said coolly. “Get her on your side. And yet, here we are.”

Ethan exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table. “It’s not over.”

Tara scoffed. “Please. She’s his now. He’d burn the world down for her, and you let it happen.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, but then he smirked. “Doesn’t matter. My plan’s coming together. I’m running for president.”

That caught Tara’s attention. She studied him for a beat, then leaned in, interest piqued.

“You really think you can win?”

“I know I can.” He sat back, confidence creeping into his tone. “He’s not untouchable, no matter how much the world worships him.”

Tara hummed, swirling her wine. “Maybe not. But you’re thinking too small.”

Ethan frowned. “And what’s your grand idea?”

Tara’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Bucky doesn’t take orders. He follows one thing—her.” She set down her glass, tilting her head. “Control her, and you control him.”

Ethan’s smirk faltered slightly, like he hadn’t considered that angle.

Tara leaned back, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “You fight him in the public arena. I’ll make sure he’s too distracted to stop you.”

She stood, smoothing down her blazer. “Sit tight, Ethan. This game’s only just begun.”

And with that, she disappeared into the night, leaving Ethan gripping his glass a little too tightly.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Taglist: @imaginecrushes @maplepepperoni @sleepysongbirdsings @sunday-bug @bunnyfella @lktunes12-blog @bellamoret @mrsnikstan @greatenthusiasttidalwave@pancake-05 @theylovethesky @avengersfan25 @nydubs @abitofblues @ferretferretferret @helen-2003 @notreallythatlost @opheliagreenaway @flowerluvr @calzone-d @lil-riddle-kiddle @nameless-ken @ladyvenera @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @josis-teacup @marissa8208 @houseofaegon

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes #congressman bucky #thunderbolts #avengers #winter soldier #mcu #marvel #sam wilson #captain america #james bucky barnes #congress & carnality

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sunrisesfromthewest · 9 months ago

Text

Playing Hard To Get Pt 3

Summary: After that night at the precinct the sexual tension between you and Armando increased ten times more causing him to come up with a clever way to keep you from running away.

Previous Part: Pt2

Time seems to fly by after that night at the precinct and since then your focus has been on all the new cases.

Hense why you haven't noticed Armandos predatory eyes watching your every move throughout the week.

At the moment your attention was focus on finding a very important file but with a frustrated sigh you push away from your desk and turn your attention to the ceiling.

“Still ain’t have no luck finding that Leoni file.”

Swiveling your chair towards the hearty voice, you see Marcus gazing at your computer screen with mild interest.

"Yeah, that file is about as old as you and Mike." you say giving him a teasing smile. Marcus stares down at you for a moment before releasing a very sarcastic laugh.

"I see your ass got jokes."

Shaking your head in amusement at his annoyed expression, you turn your attention to Mikes baritone voice and approaching figure.

"What you two bobble heads over here talking about?"

"Something that your elderly light skin ass could help me with." you sassed, moving forward to double check your information on your note pad.

"Y'all young folks disrespectful as hell."

Hearing the light snickering from the squad had you biting at your bottom lip to contain your laughter.

Pausing to take a sip of his big gulp Mike sends Marcus a look before smacking his lips loudly with a mischievous grin.

"And that's too bad cuz I was just about tell you where that file was at."

Groaning you glance up at the older man, already knowing he wasn't going to give the information to you without trying to cut a deal.

"What do you want?" you ask, while gazing at him with hesitant eyes.

"Lunch is on you."

Frowning your eyes shift back to his and your blank computer screen before releasing an agitated sigh.

"Fine but y'all not finna be blowing up my phone tryna add extra food."

Watching the two men give each other a devious smirk, they walk away from your desk.

"Hey! Where's the file!"

"In the old records room!" Mike answered, entering the break room with Marcus hot on his tail.

Standing up from your desk, you shifted your red dress back down your browns thighs and make your way to the records room.

"Go ahead and write down what y'all want, I'll grab lunch after I get this file." you announced, sending Armando a pointed look since he always tries to give you his order last minute.

"Prefiero comerte el coño en lugar , princesa. (I'd rather eat your pussy instead princess)"

Seeing the shocked look on Kellys face had you raising your brows, but you don't stop to question his comment.

Smirking Armando briefly shifts his attention to Kelly who looks at him with a wrinkled nose before moving his brown eyes back to your retreating curvy form.

Walking down the small flight of stairs, you spot the room a couple of steps ahead of you.

"They really need to transfer this stuff to the online records." you muttered, sticking your pad in your bra and twisting the handle of the door.

Standing there a few seconds in disbelief you twist the knob again only to grumble when the door doesn't even budge.

Glaring at the keyhole, you look around to see if anyone was watching before leaning forward while slipping a bobby pin from your dress pocket.

To immersed with trying to pick the lock, you failed to notice a familiar Latino man walking your way.

"I swear if they planned this to get more foo-"

Pausing at the sound of a low whistle, you flip your hair back to see Armando leaning against the opposite wall with a dimpled smile.

"A stripper and a little criminal.... what else you been hiding from me detective?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." you replied, turning back to the lock and smiling after hearing a small click.

Turning to him you open the door and send him a smug look before entering the room. Pushing off the wall amused, Armando entered the room behind you, "I'll keep that in mind."

Not replying you pull the small pad from your bra and flip through it to double check the id number for the case file.

Heels clicking against the floor your eyes move around the room in search of the correct file cabinet.

"Is there something you need to get out of here too?" you questioned, missing the sound of the door closing with a click.

Finding the cabinet, you open it and began to search through the packed drawer.

"The last time we were together.... alone, I remember you left those behind princess." he commented, spotting the way your hand stops at the sight of your thong stuck between the files.

Alarmed you peer at him with wide eyes as he draws closer to you with a dark expression.

"Now ever since you left me high and dry, I've been using these as a way to get off."

Shocked you just stand their sucking in air like a dying fish, mind trying to come up with a coherent sentence.

"Hmm.......Cats got your tongue, mami?" he stated, snatching up the material from the abandoned file cabinet.

Snapping out of your stupor you maintain eye contact while backing away from his approaching form.

"Glad to see that you enjoyed yourself." you joked but stop when you run into a hard surface.

Laughing at your comment, Armando reaches you with a wolfish grin while watching you slide onto the 'desk' to create distance between him and you.

"All you been doing is running that smart mouth of yours and running away," pausing he drags a hand down the small opening of your dress top," And if I'm being honest mami...I'm done chasing you."

Shivering from his light touch, you give him a grin of your own, "Then why do you keep doing it?"

The next words that come out his mouth completely throws you off.

"How's your wrist?" he asked, shifting his gaze down to your manicured hands.

Blinking up at him with a quizzical expression, and a quick glance down at your healed wrist.

You look back up at his now lustful eyes, confused, "It's fine but why do you as-"

Before you could finish you feel cold metal hugging your skin and the ghostly touch of Armandos stealthily hands. As quick as you could react you began to frantically tug at the metal restrains and take in that what you thought was a 'desk' is actually an old slick interrogation table.

"Armando the fuck you got going on!" you fumed, pulling at the restraints more.

Moving closer he spreads your legs causing you to freeze as the cool air hits your damp covered center.

"Armand-do what are you doing!"

"Claiming what's mine and teaching you a lesson." Armando whispered, running his hands over your center. Jumping at his touch you try to move back but he just pulls you closer by the chain of the cuffs.

"The more you run the longer I'm keeping you in these cuffs." he growls, voice becoming low and accented. Gasping loudly at the feeling of him pressing down firmer against your clit, you breathe out a response and trap his hand between your thighs.

"We can't......someone migh-"

Once again you were cut off but this time, he stuffed your mouth with your thong.

"Problem solved. Now open your legs."

Shocked that he just gagged you with the soft material you don't catch his words but the feeling of him quickly sliding your panties down with his free hand does.

"You practically dripping baby, and we haven't even got to the fun part." he mutters sliding the material past your heels and into your mouth to ensure you want make a sound.

Mouth completely stuffed, you stare at him aroused and with dilating pupils as you start to drool from the way your mouth is stretched open.

"You're so pretty when you allow me to give you what you need, Y/N."

Dark eyes running down your face he moves a hand forward to wipe at your mouth before trailing the same hand towards your throbbing center.

Feeling the pressure on your clit had you closing your eyes from the sensation, making him stare at you with a smug expression.

"All this time you been fighting against what your body wants," pressing down harder he moves his thumb in a circular motion, "I know you been craving my touch princess."

Hips shifting forward your eyes remained closed as you released moans muffled into the now damn material.

"Tossing that thong at me and then running away was the third straw." Leaning forward, he began to trail hot kisses down your exposed neck while speaking to you.

Shivering from his words, you feel yourself become even wetter as he continues his motions on your clit while slipping a few fingers inside you.

"Now look at you.... pleasuring yourself with my hand."

Throwing your head back, your body shivers as he pumps his fingers faster inside of you which makes you tug at the restrains with pleasure.

"You're taking this so good Y/N.....I thought you would at least put up a fight." Armando taunts, placing a hand on your lower back so that you wouldn't run from his fast pace.

Groaning you slightly open your eyes to peer at him but moan more when you see his lustful gaze watching your every expression.

Clenching around his fingers, you blink drowsily up at him as you feel a familiar pit form in your stomach. Wiping away the drool from your mouth he gives you a fake pout, "I know baby.... your close."

Hiking your shaking legs around his waist to anchor yourself, you pull him towards you with pleading eyes.

Moistening his lips with a swipe of his tongue, he slows down his movements and leans down to your ear.

"Is it too much, baby......you want me to stop." he whispers, slipping his hand out and watching you attempt to protest as he stops you from reaching your high.

Whining at the withdrawal of his hands, you glance away as frustrated tears run down your face.

“You been playing with me for months…. did you really think I was going to let you get off that easy.” Placing his wet fingers into his mouth, Armando grabs your chin and maintains his gaze with you while releasing a satisfied hum.

“I didn’t know you could be so…..sweet.”

Rubbing your thighs together, go to speak but remember that you’re gagged. Seeing this he shifts his attention to your mouth, “Got something to say, mami.”

Nodding your head, you tilt your head up so he could remove the material out your mouth.

“You look so pretty tho.” He commented, running his thumb over your wet bottom lip. Giving him your best ‘Hurry the fuck up’ look, you roll your eyes as he slowly pulls the material from your mouth.

Pushing the last of the thong out with your tongue, you take in a few deep breaths before you speak.

“If you’re not going to let me cum,then what’s the point of me being here?” you gasped out and attempted to wipe away the drool from your lower face.

“We’ll that depends on how you answer this question.” he replied eyes scanning your flushed body with desire and need.

Although you were intrigued you were feeling some type of way about being teased of an orgasm and handcuffed.

"Since I didn't get to cum, I think it's fair that I don't answer your questions." you snarked, shifting back on the table at the constant pulsing feeling between your crossed legs.

Crossing his arms he trails his eyes back up to yours and pick up on the shift of your attitude towards him," This how you want to play."

Not answering you flip your slightly disheveled hair over your shoulder and turn your attention to the silver cuffs dangling from your wrist. Unfolding his arms, he grabs your waist and flips you over to press your front against the cold hard surface.

"Arman-!"

"Tss. Tss. Don't try to talk now princess, I gave you a chance." he interrupted, scrunching your dress over your ass he gives it a hard smack while kicking your heeled feet apart.

Whining loudly from the smack, you try to move away but he just press his warm large hand down on your lower back and grinds his hard on against your dripping cunt.

Moaning your body moves with his naturally; logic and common sense going right out the door as your mind becomes clouded fully with want.

Noticing this Armando tilts his head back to get a good look at your wet cunt grinding against his covered member with eagerness.

"There you go baby, just like that." he groans, left hand moving to caress and spank your ass as you quicken your pace.

Panting loudly your drag your restrained hands onto the edge of the table in search of some type of leverage as the pleasure becomes intense.

Moving his grip back to your thick waist he pulls your bottom half slightly away from the table causing your heeled feet to dangle a few inches off the ground.

"I'm close Mando-please!" you rasped out as the rough material of his jeans and the sudden touch of his index finger pinching your clit sends flutters to your stomach.

Pulling your hair back he stares down at your half-lidded eyes with a coy smile, "Please what mami."

Running his hands between your wet folds he grinds against you harder at the sight of your slightly parted lips and begging tone.

"Please let me cum! I need it-I need you!"

Biting his lips he pressed his front against your back and tugs your hair to the side to suck at your neck while picking up the speed of his hand.

"You need me Y/N-Where do you need me baby." he breathed, tilting your blissed out face to look at him as he anxiously waits for your answer.

" Arman-I need yo!" cutting yourself off you moan out his name loud as your orgasm sneaks up on you and spreads throughout your body.

Whispering small words of encouragement in your ear he keeps his hands between your thighs while trailing kisses down your back.

Letting out small whimpers your body starts to come down from it's high but the moment you feel hot breath hit your pussy you freeze.

"You don't mind if I get a taste..."

Before you could protest his hot mouth glides across your soaked lips causing you to shudder and regrip your hands on the table as he drags his tongue against you.

Mouth dropping open you released a breathless moan as your senses becomes overwhelmed.

Pulling away from you with a pop Armando runs his rough hands along the backside of your thighs before standing back up to his full height with urgency.

"You got one more in you sweetheart." he asked, accent slipping as he unbuckles the front of his pants with the speed of a man on a mission.

Cuffs scrapping against the table as you push yourself up to stand on shaky legs you turn to face him with an unfocused gaze.

"You still want me." you heaved, leaning against the table for support while watching him stalk towards you with a broad grin.

"I been wanting you baby from the moment I saw you."

Wrapping his hands around your thighs he hoists you up and carries you to the open space by the bared window.

Laughing you place your cuffed wrist behind his head while dragging your nails down the nape of his neck. Leaning his firm body against your soft one he shifts your legs higher on his waist so that he can pull himself out.

"You ready baby."

Shivering at the sight of his long girthy dick, you lick your lips anxiously while nodding your head eagerly.

Smirking he rubs the tip between your fold in a teasing motion as he blinks up at you with desire, "You sure cuz once I have you Y/N... your mine."

"Then let this be my answer." you purred, pressing your lips against his moist ones in a sloppy kiss while racking your manicure nails through his short thick hair.

Groaning into the kiss Armando pulls you closer as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes just the tip in.

Breaking away from the kiss, you tilt your head back as he begins to thrust into you while letting out a low groan.

"Gosh Armando." you moaned out as the feeling of him stretching you open sends a delicious tingle up your spine.

Clenching his jaw, he releases a small breath while maintaining a tight grip on your hips,"Fuck Y/N... not gonna last long with the way your pussy keeps gripping me."

Locking your legs around his waist tighter you shiver and grip his shoulders hard as he finds a fast hard rhythm. Grabbing your chin, he brings your full lips back to his in a searing kiss while groaning at the loud squelching noise coming from between your legs.

Breaking the kiss with a small wet pop, Armando starts to nip and suck on your bouncing breast with intense desire.

Whining loudly, you shift in his arms as you feel another orgasm creep up, but that seems to only encourage Armando to pound into you harder.

Unlatching his lips from your breast he mutters I knows into your neck as he starts to chase yours and his orgasm. Letting out a mixture of breathless moans and groans at the sensation of his nails digging into your ass as he begins to split you open.

And just like that, your peak sneaks up on you again which triggers Armando already frantic pound to go into overdrive.

Whining out your name, he cums deep inside of you while keeping a possessive grip on your fucked out form against his as y'all come down from an intense orgasm.

Warmth admitting from each other's skin seems to bring comfort and slightly relief while your bodies finally start to cool down from y'all's risqué activities.

"I guess I'll go out with you." you joked in a light tone.

Shaking his head, he looks up at you with that cute, dimpled grin, "The dick that good huh?"

"Don't act like you weren't swimming in this tsunami." you stated, smacking his chest playful as he carries you back over to the table while letting out a deep chuckle.

Whining as he slips out of you, you watched from the table as he opens one of the cabinet drawers and pull out a small bag of supplies.

With a gaping jaw you watch him set the bag beside you and pull out a few things to clean each other up with including the keys to the cuffs.

"Ohhh you sly dog......you set this whole thing up!"

"This was the only way I could get your stubborn ass to finally admit your feelings……and to traumatize Kelly.”

Pausing you turn to him confused,“What’d you say to Kelly?”

Meanwhile...............

The whole squad was to busy eating and working to notice the absence of two members who has been gone for a few hours…..everyone but Kelly.

Dorn watches Kelly picks at her food with disgust before sliding her plate away while releasing a frustrated groan.

“You good baby?”

With furrowed brows she shakes her head while massaging her temples with a sigh.

Catching the rest of the members attention they listen to Dorn ask her what’s wrong but the reply they received would’ve made anyone passing by think they were in the wrong department…..or police station.

“The thought of Armando eating Y/n out want leave my head!”

Authors Note🎙️:

Sorry it took so long I’ve literally been busy getting ready for the semester and guess what today my first day back so it’ll be awhile until I post.

😜But I had to make sure I leave y’all good and satisfied until I get back into a balanced schedule.(I think I out did myself 🤞)

Also,I do have that Mike Lowrey x reader typed up but once I get free time again I’ll post it.

Hope You guys Enjoyed and Stay Blessed💓💓

Taglist: @poppetbaby02 @livirosa@dyttomori @cibresworld @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @theclownmimi @blackgirlmagicforever @3amvaiya @thesizzler @bitchyglittersuit @leahnicole1219 @babywinter @housewifewithnohusband22 @undevidedattentionsblog @delusionalbutterfly @ky44 @thatwassofetch @pandorafrost @yeahnohoneybye @disc0fairy

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megumiluvv · 10 months ago

Text

When Uncle Sukuna visits again, you open your door at lunch time to an upset Yuji, an adorable angry expression on his tiny little face.

“Hiya, Yuji, what’s up?” You laugh a little and let the kid into your apartment.

“I’m hungry but I don’t want my uncle’s cooking… he burns everything and doesn’t know how to cook how I like.”

“Oh, you want my cooking?”

“Yeah…”

You smile and sit Yuji down in your couch and turn on his cartoons while you cook his favorite lunchtime meal.

As you’re cooking, Sukuna walks into your apartment, looking at you and smirking.

“You’re like a housewife, are you sure you and that nephew of mine aren’t together?”

“Uncle! You have to knock!” Yuji frowns at the sight of Sukuna.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat.”

Yuji pokes his tongue out at his uncle and hides between your legs as Sukuna scowls at the kid. You just laugh and shake your head as you finish cooking for Yuji and give him the food. Yuji eats as Sukuna talks with you.

“You never answered my question.”

“Choso and I are just friends.”

“Really? Because I see how-”

“Uncle! When is my big brother coming home?”

Sukuna scowls when he can’t keep teasing you about Choso.

“He should be back for his lunch break soon, brat.”

As if on cue, almost like always, Choso enters your apartment with a soft knock on your door.

“No one was in my apartment, I almost thought Sukuna ran away with Yuji.”

“Choso!” Yuji smiles and runs to his big brother.

Choso smiles to you and sits Yuji back at the table.

“Did he run here because of Sukuna’s cooking?”

“I’m right here, you know.”

Choso laughs and smiles to you as he looks at his uncle.

“You should keep a better eye on Yuji, uncle.”

“Not my fault the brat is too small to see.”

“I’m not a brat!” Yuji frowns at Sukuna and stuffs his face with food.

Sukuna rolls his eyes and goes to Choso’s apartment while complaining under his breath. Choso chuckles and looks at you as you wipe sauce off of Yuji’s chin. He notices you still have his shirt from the other day and he feels a little flutter in his chest at the thought of you wearing it around your apartment.

“Yuji’s grown to be a little picky.”

“Nah, I cook all kinds of stuff for him.” You smile.

“I guess he’s more picky over the cook. He tells me he only likes your cooking and my cooking.”;

“Oh really?” You smile and ruffle the boy’s hair.

Yuji huffs and moves your hands away as he eats. Choso laughs and makes himself a plate of the food you made, hoping his uncle hasn’t burnt down his house.

Masterlist

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powerfultenderness · 2 years ago

Note

I am so, so thirsty for neighbor!Konig and I humbly beg you for the following request; reader has secretly been hard core cramming online German lessons, and Konig says some stuff (lewd or otherwise) that she ends up understanding. Maybe she teases him by saying something back to catch him off guard and make him flustered? Idk but I just spent an hour reading all of the series and im heart needs more to survive

I'm so happy that you're enjoying the series! I liked this idea so much! But I ended up changing it a little bit, I hope you don't mind!

Nothing really happens, but König does say something a little horny, so I guess this will be [rated Mature 18+]

“What, are you going back to school?”

You jolted from your studies and looked up just in time to see a friend join you at the table in the break room. You laughed as you greeted her. She was almost right, it certainly felt like you were in school again! Your lunch was pushed to the side, nibbled on, while you were hunched over a notebook and your phone.

She leaned over the table a bit and took a glance at your notes. “Why German?” You sighed, you needed a break anyways, and started to pick at your food. “Just trying to impress the hot neighbor.”

“Ooh, is he German? And how hot are we talking?”

“Austrian,” you answered with another laugh. “And very.” Sort of? Well, even if you had never seen him without some sort of hood or mask on his face, he was still a fine specimen of a man.

“Want me to help you?”

“You know German?”

“I studied German for years in school and spent some time abroad in Berlin.”

You narrowed your eyes and hummed as you tried to translate her words. “You said: I something, German, something something, Berlin.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “Oh! I know just what to teach you!”

Bzzt!

You picked up your phone and rolled your eyes before sending a quick text.

König didn’t like it. All night you were half paying attention to him and half paying attention to your phone. “Who keeps texting you?” He finally slipped, unable to hold back the slightly envious (ok maybe a lot) question anymore.

“Sorry,” you winced at how rude you were being. “Just a friend from work. She started to help me with a project and thinks she’s sending helpful tips.”

Just a friend from work! It didn’t sound like someone he had to worry about (though he wasn’t sure if you were also attracted to women, and so didn’t completely write off this friend just yet). “But her advice is not helpful?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Not really. She’s jumping the gun. She’s thinking way too far ahead.”

"Hm. Well, perhaps I can help you?" Anything to get you to pay more attention to him.

"Oh, König," you were about to tell him that it was unnecessary, after all you wanted to surprise him, but your phone buzzed again. "You know what, that would be great." You tucked your phone between the couch cushions as if that would stop your friend from texting you.

"Yea? What can I do?"

You hummed before smiling at him, an idea coming to you. “Can you say something in German?”

“What? How will that help?”

“Well, it wouldn’t really help so much as distract from-” your phone buzzed, a little quieter now between the couch cushions, just on time. You smiled and gestured to your phone, “from that.”

He chuckled and nodded, “alright. But, what do you want me to say?”

“I dunno, something…nice?”

König glanced away from you to the television, whatever was on was long forgotten by both of you, as he thought about what to say. Something nice? He could write a whole book of nice things to say about you. In whatever language you wanted: German, English, maybe even a bit of Korean that he picked up from Horangi. But what to say? That you were one of, if not the, kindest people he’s ever met? That he noticed how you were frightened of him at your first meeting but you pushed that fear aside because of that kindness? Or that he noticed you liked puns, and would seek out the corniest puns just to hear you laugh? No. Maybe he should tell you that you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on? Yea, that was nice, right?

“Hey,” you interrupted his thoughts in a soft voice before you settled a hand on his knee, which he hadn’t even noticed that he was bouncing his knee a mile a minute until you stopped him. “I was just being silly. If you don’t want to-”

“What! No!” He shook his head, “it’s not that.” He paused and looked down at the hand you were still resting gently on his knee, then looked back up at you, eyes shining underneath his hood, and took a deep breath before words began to quickly tumble out of his mouth.

“There is simply too much for me to say, I could not decide! Everything about you is perfect! Even the not perfect things! Ever since you moved here, I have not been able to stop thinking about you! You are on my mind all of the time and I don’t know what I would do without you!” “Whoa! Whoa!” You jerked back at his sudden outburst. “Slow down!”

He shut his mouth so quickly and hard that the snap of his teeth was nearly as loud as the tv.

It was quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring wide eyed at each other, before he started again. “I am sorry! I-” “No! No, I’m sorry. Like I said, I was just being silly and wanted to see if I could understand anything. You know, after hanging out with you so much…”

“Oh…”

Another beat of awkward silence.

“Did you? Understand anything?”

You laughed a little sheepishly. “Uhm. I’m pretty sure I can guess what “perfekt” means, soo,” you looked around, trying to spot something perfect and snapped before looking back at him with a grin. No you hadn’t understood much, but you could lighten the mood with an overly ridiculous answer. “So you must have been talking about…dinner? My stroganoff is great, I mean I wouldn’t say perfect, but-”

He started laughing, dragging you into fits of giggles too, and leaned in a little closer to you, elated that this time you did not pull back.

“So, was all of that actually nice?” You asked once your laughter faded out, though you still smiled up at him.

“Yes. I can only think of nice things to say about you.”

Oh! Nothing could stop the goofy smile that crossed your face, not the butterflies in your stomach, or the way your heart sped up, not even the blush that heated your face. Still you decided to cover up your sudden over acting nerves with a touch of humor. You played up your reaction, one hand over your heart as the other tapped his arm playfully. “Aww, König, you’re so sweet!”

He gently caught your hand, running his thumb softly across your knuckles. “Should I try again?”

“Hm?” “This time I won’t speak so quickly.”

Him holding your hand like that was not going to return your heart rate to normal! Still you smiled at him, a bit shyly, and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. “Sure.”

“You are very beautiful.” He started, but your soft smile turned into a grin and he paused.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” You tried to downplay just how intimate this was starting to feel.

“Beautiful,” he corrected as he took his hand from yours and gently held your chin so that you were looking directly into his eyes. “Stunning, actually.” You were especially cute when you looked so flustered like that. He gently traced the bottom of your lip and leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to barely above a husky whisper. “And I want to see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

You squeaked out a tiny little gasp and pulled back from just enough for his hand to drop.

König froze. “Did. Did you understand. That?”

“No!” You quickly shook your head, eyes darting all over the place before settling back on him, though you could no longer hold eye contact. “What, uhm. What did you say?”

Oh. You were a bad liar. Good to know. He wished he hadn’t said that. He wished he hadn’t said anything! Maybe he should have never come over in the first place! Why was it so hard to say no to you?

“Nothing!” He abruptly stood up. “I have to go.” He rushed to the door and nearly ran out, but at least stopped himself long enough to wish you a good night before fleeing.

“Ah, König!”

But he was already gone. For a guy that big, he was certainly fast.

“Oh, shit.” You muttered to yourself, heart still loudly pounding in your chest as you dug your phone out from the cushions.

You pulled up your texts and scrolled through the many, many, English to German (or vice versa) raunchy translations your friend had been sending you. Sure enough, between her translations and König’s words fresh in your mind…

“AHHH!!! I THINK HE JUST ASKED ME TO BLOW HIM!!!!” You sent off a text to her and finally remembered to breathe.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

“Lol! Are you sure? What did he say? I’m calling you.”

It’s a whole week before you see König again. And you both awkwardly pretend like your last encounter never happened. And you both desperately wish that it hadn't ended.

[Neighbor König Masterlist]

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be removed or added)

@warrior-of-justice @cumikering @ihateuguys

#anonymous #neighbor!könig #könig x reader #könig x fem reader #konig x reader #i'm getting slower!#so sorry!

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study-diaries · 1 month ago

Text

An Absolute Guide To Manage Your Time And Energy For School

If you struggle with time management and are still struggling, then maybe this short guide can help you become better, not perfect but better.

These are not time management techniques, no. None of the techniques personally worked for me because let's be honest. It's not that practical. I'm someone who does not get Pomodoro, nor can i get anything done if i write it down.

It's a mockery really but here are some adjustments that i made that helped me manage my time and energy.

Between classes/breaks/lunch

Have some incomplete work? Do it between classes. The short breaks. The teacher is 5 mins late? Complete at least some of the work, you might not believe it but you get a lot of things done when you add the spare time.

Travel

If you have a lot of travel time, do some of your studying then. If you get headaches, just do active recall or skim through notes, try to revise. You can even practice for tests, take your question paper and try answering the questions in your head.

Home=Studies

I personally only prefer studies at home. All written assignments, essays, extra curriculars, everything is only during school hours (If you don't have the "time". Do it during breaks). Because home is the one place you have minimal distractions beside your gadgets so use that opportunity in any way you can.

Mental lists and Accountability Partners

Normal to do list never work for me so i always keep a mental list of tasks i have to do every single day. It helps. An additional tip is to keep an accountability partner, share your tasks with each other and keep each other on track. Make it more challenging by making each other do something like a dare or something stupid if you don't complete your lists.

No time allotments

I personally feel that keeping a time allotted for every subject/topic is unnecessary like it doesn't work for me. I'll change the subjects when i'm bored. I'll take a break when i feel tired. Having time allotted is like a barrier. (At least for me) It will take time for you to understand difficult topics. Easy concepts can be fitted in the allotted time but difficult ones need more time and energy.

Only important things in the morning

Mornings are the best things that can possibly happen. I'm generally not a morning person, seriously but if you have to study complex topics or if you have some kind of important work then do it in the morning. Nobody disturbs you. Everyone is asleep. You can concentrate on your work and your mind is fresh, you can grasp more things and get your work done by the time everyone gets up.

Get in the flow

Learning things is not difficult. Making aesthetic lists and vision boards is not difficult. Anyone can do it, hell, everyone does it. Sticking to the process consistently is difficult.

You won't see results right away. It will take you time. It will take you energy so take a breath. Stick to the stuff longer than an hour and you'll actually see how difficult topics turn into easy ones. It normally takes 20 mins for you to actually get into "work" mode and it would take another 20 mins to actually get what you're trying to do.

Mindset Shift

What i realise when i look around me is that literally no one actually wants to do the hard work. Many of my friends literally give up after studying a hard topic, they don't put in the effort and the only thing i hear is "It's too hard and i don't have the time and energy right now" and that is the exact mindset that leads them to unwanted stress and cramming before a small test or an exam.

The thing is time is going to pass anyway so might as well get things done. And get it done in the best possible way. Period.

Get Assignment Done In Advance

My school gave me around 5 assignments every week or so, the only way i got them done was through doing all of the work during school hours. Complete them during breaks or free periods, after school or just between classes. And i know, sometimes you'll feel like "This is weird" because everyone else is relaxing and talking. You know what i did? I just sat with my group of friends and i just did my work (written work) while also talking to them. It's not as difficult as you think it is. It's more fun honestly. Honestly, after a while, they too joined me.

One Step Ahead

Look, it's really easy. Set what i call a "One In Advance". Your assignment is due in two weeks? Complete it by next week. Project due in one month. Complete it a week in advance. This is necessary because, when you start early, you finish it earlier than others so you can actually focus on some studying rather than wasting your time managing assignments and tests. You'll actually notice the difference in your stress levels when everything doesn't pile up. The trick is to complete everything before one week.

When You Feel Tired? Rest. Period.

This is non-negotiable. You don't force yourself to work when you are really tired. There is no use doing work when you feel exhausted.

The only thing i did for me to have a few extra hours per day is just allot my time. When i'm at school, it's fully work mode. Do your work and get things done. When i get back home, it's rest + study.

Hope this helps! :)

(By the way, in no way am i promoting toxic productivity. Rest when you need it and take time off. It is a crucial part. Don't. Forget. That. I'm providing you some daily adjustments that made my life easier and can do that to yours too)

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sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth · 2 months ago

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okay but hear me out on this: blowing sam while wearing red lipstick and it stains him a bit, they have fun in the shower later being silly and giggly and washing it off him. do you think he'd be into that? 🫣

Thank you for the lovely, very spicy ask 😏😏❤️

See, I feel like Dean's the one who'd be really into lipstick and stuff like that explicitly. I don't think Sam would even think about that until it actually happened, and then he'd love it of course. A trail of love marks, down his stomach and then at his base, a nice reminder of how deep she took him.

And then he'd be a shy little shit about it later, all bashful and blushing. I love the idea of the shower that you paint, what a sexy and intimate image. I can just see him, trying to pretend like it doesn't affect him as much as it does, not wanting to be crass. But he'd love to know that she marked him a little, even if it's washing off there under the warm water and her gentle hands.

It's an image that stays with him, that's for sure. He'll catch himself daydreaming about it, about the way her hair felt between his finger when he needed something to hold on to when the stimulation overwhelmed him, or the feeling of soft kisses up his jaw as he was being washed clean. And the image. That red smudge there, like he belonged to someone. He'll need to clear his throat and shift around when Dean asks something or when his phone rings. Get his shit together. Runs his hand over the lower part is his face, maybe to hide the ghost of a grin.

Using my lunch break to answer spicy asks is probably the peak of my existence. I love this so much. ❤️

#ask #supernatural #spn #fanfic #sam winchester #spn fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sorry's asks #sorry's headcanons

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hoe-days · 1 month ago

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Oooh you mention how it be different with Stanley if childhood friend? Would that also change the relationship if it was both of them? Because Xeno & Stanley were tied to the hip when they were younger, so I imagine s/o would be too

I’ve been waiting on someone to comment on that part😏

SO. If their s/o is someone they’ve already known for a long time it’d be different.

In a previous post I talked about how Xeno would have a little girl that’d stick up for him when bullies would bother him in school, so I think it’d start like that, no matter the s/o’s gender.

Xeno and Stan would be sitting at a lunch table minding their business while Xeno works on something and a bully would come up trying to break Xeno’s stuff. In comes little s/o. Probably seen as a “cool kid” though they don’t try to be.

“Why are you messing with his stuff? He didn’t even do anything to you. You’re just mad he’s smart and you have a 16 in science.”

All flabbers are gasted.

Xeno would say thank you, and Stan would likely become quick friends with them. In this case, Xeno would be the hesitant one. He’s used to people being his “friend” to try and cheat off him and stuff. Stanley was all he had in his younger school years. But after a while he’d realize s/o was genuinely trying to be his friend and is interested in science. And when he realizes they’re interested in science good god😭

He talks and talks and talks and s/o listens. Stan is glad they have another friend. They would meet at the park so Xeno can show them the new thing he made and Stanley can play football with some other kids while the other two watch. It’s adorable.

NOW. When they’re older. Both Stan and Xeno have had a crush on S/O at some point in life. Stan actually took them to Prom in high-school. They would have made it a group thing but Xeno just didn’t want to go💀

Once they’re adults they still hang out regularly in college. They live together, actually. They share an apartment. If s/o is like Xeno they are often studying or working on something together. When Stan goes off to basic it’s just S/O and Xeno there.

The reasoning I have for thinking they wouldn’t be dating at this point is that I feel there would be a lot of confusion. Those frontal lobes aren’t quite developled yet and each of them are questioning the lines of friendship and who they want to ask out, how would it affect the other person, and if it’s worth messing up a good trio.

Stan would be the one to “back out”. In his mind, he’s leaving for basic training so Xeno and S/O would have the perfect opportunity to get together.

Xeno on the other hand is debating if he cares about his own feelings or not. He wants to focus on science but his dumbass feelings and hormones has him invested in college drama with his two friends.

He’d be upfront and bring it up to S/O after Stan has left. He’d straight up ask. “What are we?” Or “What do you want from me and Stan.” This will lead them to the conclusion that they’re already a throuple at this point, might as well label it as such. He deems it the most logical solution because nothing will change between the three of them. So now him and S/O are together. And the next time Stan is allowed to contact them they ask his opinion on it and he says to let him think and he’ll answer when he’s back.

When Stan is FINALLY back after his 3 or so months of basic he tells them he wants to test the waters. He wants to see how it feels while he’s home during his short leave before having to go back. So they try out domestic life together to see if it feels different. He and Xeno allow S/O to give them both affection and see how they like it.

Short answer: They like it a lot. They give affection back to S/O and to each other and realize, “Man. I don’t feel as jealous or weird as I thought I would.”

Relationship approved.

So after that point things return to normal for them. S/O and Xeno keep each other company while Stan is gone. They have regular video chats with him to give updates.

They also occasionally put him in the cuck chair💀 They even got a little tri-pod to put the phone on so he can watch with a good view (and order them around)

I also like to imagine Stan with one of those little robots people at long distances use😭 the thought is just cute to me. S/O and Xeno are in his home office looking at some paperwork and they just hear a thud against the door because they forgot to leave it open for Stan to go and come.

#dr stone #xeno houston wingfield #stanley snyder #xenostan #xenostan x reader #xeno x reader #stanley x reader #dcst

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izzih22 · 1 month ago

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Can you do one where Azzi is in her freshman year but like just got there so over summer and Paige and Azzi are being really cute and close but haven’t said anything to anyone about dating but like Nika suspects something is going on. Then like after Azzi has spend most of her first week just with Paige they all play a drinking game like truth or drink to get to know the freshman and stuff and they accidentally expose pazzi through like a when was your last kiss kinda thing

Truth Be Told

Note: I don’t think this one is as good but I’m trying 😂

Azzi was settling into life as a UConn freshman. The campus was buzzing with excitement, the air thick with anticipation for the new season, and everything felt so new. She’d spent her first week primarily hanging out with Paige—her best friend, her confidant, and… well, her girlfriend.

But that part was still a secret. Or at least, it had been. To the team, they were nothing more than close friends. They were always together—yes, but they just thought it was normal. Everyone did. Azzi didn’t exactly mind. She and Paige were both quiet about their relationship. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to tell people, but they didn’t see the need to make it a big deal. It was a relationship like any other, and they were just enjoying the time they had.

But tonight was different.

The team had decided to play a drinking game—Truth or Drink. A fun, get-to-know-you game for the freshmen. Of course, Azzi had no idea what she was walking into. It was supposed to be low-key, but she had a feeling that by the end of the night, the whole team would know the truth.

Everyone was gathered around a coffee table in the common area of the dorm, drinks in hand and the buzz of excitement filling the air. Azzi sat beside Paige, Paige’s arm wrapped around Azzi. The chemistry between them was electric. They had spent nearly every moment of the week together—whether it was practice, lunch, or late-night talks.

“Alright, who’s starting?” Nika asked, setting down her drink and eyeing everyone around the table.

“Me!” Caroline said, grabbing the bottle and giving it a spin. The bottle wobbled before landing on Azzi.

Azzi stiffened, looking at Paige for reassurance. Paige smiled warmly at her, giving her a quick squeeze on the hand.

“Truth or drink?” Nika asked, already knowing Azzi’s answer.

Azzi thought for a second before grinning, “Truth.”

“Oh, she’s going easy on us!” Caroline teased.

Nika leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Alright, Azzi. Here’s a good one: when was your last kiss?”

Azzi froze for a second, her heart skipping a beat. She glanced at Paige, who was looking right back at her with that mischievous smile that was just for her. The whole team waited expectantly, all eyes on Azzi.

Azzi glanced at Paige shrugging her shoulders tilting her head asking a silent question and Paige nodded.

A few moments passed before Azzi looked up at the team, and with a playful smirk, she said, “Right now.”

And with that, she leaned in and kissed Paige, slow and deliberate, like they had all the time in the world.

The room went silent. The air felt thick, like everyone had just witnessed something they weren’t supposed to see.

Caroline was the first to break the silence, her mouth hanging open. “Wait… hold on. You two? As in… you two?”

Azzi pulled away from Paige, her face flushed, a little embarrassed but mostly relieved.

“Yeah, we’ve been dating for a while now,” Paige said casually, giving Azzi a soft smile, her hand still resting on Azzi’s knee.

The team burst into laughter, but it was a mix of surprise and amusement. Nika leaned back in her chair, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nika said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I knew it! I knew there was something between you two, but I wasn’t sure!”

“You guys are so obvious,” Caroline teased, her grin wide. “You were literally attached at the hip all week.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. “Well, I mean, we weren’t hiding it, right?”

The team erupted into more teasing.

“Guess the whole ‘best friends’ thing didn’t fool anyone!” Aaliyah chimed in, smirking.

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh. It was funny, how obvious they’d been. She and Paige were always together—always. But it never really occurred to either of them that the team might have noticed.

“Wait, wait,” Nika said, grinning. “So, when was your first date? Was it at UConn?”

Paige grinned. “Oh, our first date was definitely not here.” She glanced at Azzi, her tone turning teasing. “We were friends for a while before anything happened but it’s been years twin.”

Azzi smiled, feeling the warmth of Paige’s hand on hers. “We just didn’t want to rush things,” she added, looking over at Paige.

“We’ve been through a lot,” Paige said with a soft smile, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s. “But it feels right. Doesn’t it?”

Azzi nodded, the quiet sincerity in her eyes matching Paige’s. “Yeah. It really does.”

“Okay, okay,” Caroline said, sitting back and raising her hands in mock surrender. “We’ve all seen enough. You two are definitely a thing.”

Aaliyah laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, we thought you guys were dating from day one. You were just so… together.”

Azzi chuckled nervously, trying to hide the heat rising in her cheeks. She’d never expected this—she thought they had more time before everything came out into the open. But it didn’t matter now. Paige was right there beside her, and for the first time all night, Azzi didn’t feel any nerves.

Caroline raised her glass. “Here’s to you two—finally letting everyone know. We all knew anyway, but it’s nice to hear it from you.”

The team raised their glasses, all of them laughing and shouting playful remarks, but Azzi couldn’t help but focus on the hand in hers—the warmth, the security. Paige was always there for her, and now, the whole world knew.

“I’m glad it’s out in the open,” Azzi said softly, her gaze fixed on Paige. “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

Paige squeezed her hand tighter. “I feel the same way. No more hiding, Azzi. Just us.”

The team continued to tease, but Azzi and Paige were content, surrounded by their new family. The secrets were out, and they didn’t care. They were in this together, and nothing else mattered.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi fics #azzi fudd #paige and azzi #pazzi

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takami-takami · 1 year ago

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Like a Candle at Both Ends.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut.

warnings— sub!keigo. reader uses a strap. double penetration with a twist. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. dacryphilia. cum as lube. slight feminization (of keigo). slight degradation. some brattiness. face-sitting mentioned.

In which you blow the birthday boy's back out like a candle. Topping Keigo with a fleshlight underneath him, that way he gets so overwhelmed he cries. ♡

You're at least ninety percent sure Keigo won't remember a damn word he says, tomorrow.

It's a pity, truly, that his gorgeous babbles of incoherency that entertain you aplenty in bed will only live on in your memories; but you suppose you can't really blame him. It would be difficult for any man to remain focused in this situation— let alone one who gets as lost in the floaty depths of subspace as Hawks.

You've always known your boyfriend to have a penchant for indulgence. If the tabloids get one thing at least half-correct, it's that Keigo is quite the glutton for satisfying his baser urges.

Tabloids call him a foodie. They snap pictures of him at different restaurants every afternoon during his usual two o'clock lunch breaks, sinking his teeth into delicacies with a moan, only to wash it down with the most caffeinated coffee he can get his mitts on.

And those same tabloids write adorable little periodicals about how their media darling just loves a little something to eat.

But you know better.

The reality is, it's more that Keigo is simply a brat who likes to indulge. He likes to be pleased.

He likes to fill and be filled, to stuff and be stuffed; but you don't blame them for not reading between the lines, there. You suppose you do have the unfair advantage of seeing him make that same, satisfied face after you've milked his cock to empty itself past the point of shooting blanks.

If anyone on this earth is privy to a crucial little piece of information the rest of the world doesn't know, it's you. The paparazzi that flock like vultures outside local diners in the hopes of catching the number two may snap pics of him smiling to himself as he digs in, but they don't have the slightest idea what else Keigo likes to sink his teeth into.

Namely: your neck, if he's lucky; cock throbbing in your vice grip, on days you grant him permission to teethe at your skin until the splotches of color from his marks settle like satisfaction in his chest.

But mostly— and especially, on nights like tonight— the revered, dignified hero Keigo Takami just sinks his teeth into the pillow like a goddamn whore.

Right now, as Keigo lays on his front and bites back some rather pathetic sounds, the plush pillow beneath him is looking unbearably chewable to his eyes. Your delicate hand is reaching around his body like a serpent, snaking underneath his pelvis to grip his sensitive length so carefully in your palm; and the man below you is beginning to suspect he might need another outlet for his sexual frustrations, soon.

"I c-can do that myself," Keigo releases the pillow and sputters, though his body doesn't protest in the slightest. In fact, his hips arch away from the toy positioned below, in order to allow you rightful access to his cock.

"Yeah, obviously," you answer with a squint, sliding your fingers along his length. "But I want to do it for you, so I will. Are you complaining, Kei'?"

"Mm. No," he hums the right answer, shifting comfortably to rest his cheek against the pillow and settle his weight on his knees. "But I might start complaining if you don't hurry it up. I don't take this long when I put it in you," he whines, smushing his cheek further into the fluff to resist the temptation to look down. He doesn't flinch a bit when you thread your fingers through his hair in response, practically petting him.

Still, Keigo sighs in pleasure rather than dissatisfaction when he shuts his eyes. He can't deny that your soft skin feels incredible on his cock, crackling with electric charge; but the fleshlight trapped beneath his hips is enticingly lubed and ready for him, and that simple fact is causing him to grow impatient. The way you're rubbing his tip against its entrance doesn't help in the slightest. It feels more agonizing than pleasurable, at this point.

"Stop playing with it and put it inside already," he groans.

"Aww," you coo. "Are you feeling pent up today, Keigo?"

It's meant to be a tease, but the response you get is heartbreakingly genuine.

"A little bit, yeah," Keigo answers truthfully, cocking his head to the side for a second. His neck pops with the motion, achingly, and he cracks his neck the other way to make it look intentional. Still on his belly, he crosses his elbows and tucks his chin atop his arms.

Keigo looks genuinely fatigued when he blinks. Black lashes rest on his cheekbones a little longer than usual today, and you're aware that the only thing hiding his prominent eye bags is a few layers of expensive, caked-on concealer.

You swallow a pang of resentment at the sight.

Next year, you'll be sure to make a few phone calls with some choice words and demands you refuse to budge on.

Somehow, the urge to spit an uncharacteristically shrill "let me speak to your manager" over the phone to some HPSC bigshot isn't quite as strong as the urge to spoil Keigo tonight, instead; to make your baby forget the press interviews his handlers drag him to, around this time every year. The meetups, the galas— even those photoshoots you're silently a bit thankful for because he looks so irritatingly handsome in them.

You take out your irritation on his wings, gripping the sensitive primaries in one fist. To his delight, you begin to stroke the sensitive, silky bristles along the sides of his feathers, teasing them with your fingertips.

"Woah, woah, woah," Keigo smirks. The plumage of his wingspan preens with the attention, arching into your touch like a purring, spoiled housecat. "Easy there, doll. What's gotten into you today— oh, fuck me."

The moan dies down into a pleased rumble in his chest; and before he knows it, his hips arch just like his glorious wings, grinding his backside against the pretty, pink appendage strapped to your hips by a few medieval-looking buckles.

"Nothing," you lie. "Just wanted to shut you up, but it's not working all that well."

"Liar," he snides. "You know that makes me loud, baby."

"Wasn't exactly trying to hide that, but nice try."

Your palm finally guides his tip into the toy, slipping it deep inside while he sighs in momentary relief.

But the relief is just that. Momentary.

Keigo's hardly bottomed out for a dozen seconds before he's whining and trying to press himself back against the tip of your strap, too.

"Oh my god," you laugh genuinely, dumbfounded by how quickly he begs for the next little indulgence on the list. You're too busy popping the lid of a plastic tube and drizzling your strap with lube to babysit him; so for now, you ignore his whorish little display for attention.

"You want it that bad, already," you ask, slicking the length and plopping the tip against his fluttering rim, giving him a few lovetaps.

"Yeah," Keigo smiles, deliriously. "Wanna feel you fucking against my prostate. Give it to me."

Cheeky. On another day, you'd deny him strap altogether for acting like he doesn't need to do anything to earn it.

"Tell me if anything feels weird," you say instead, kissing his shoulder once while you grip the tip in one hand, pressing it against his hole. "Does it feel okay?"

"Mm, yeah," he rolls his shoulders. "But can you, uh, let me just lay here a little, at first? You know, while you do your thing?"

Keigo shakes his hips in an attempt to look enticing with the shameless request. "I'll be really good. Promise."

"You're such a fucking pillow princess," you accuse as you slide inside his already prepped hole and begin to move; and just as quickly as you utter it, the pseudo-insult backfires in the form of a high pitched, utterly pleased moan below you.

"I-I can be your princess," Keigo immediately agrees, with some nods alongside each of your thrusts. When you sink into him, he sinks his teeth further into the pillow than his mind sinks to delirium— deeper than his pride sinks down to a new low.

"I'm yours, I'm your princess," Keigo repeats. "I'm your fucking princess," he moans, reaching one hand back to claw those delicately manicured fingernails into the meat of your thigh. Each nail is meticulously cut, shaved down like the hair on his lithe body and painted an iridescent gold to match his eyes under your bedroom light.

It's whiny when he pleads, "fuck me"— and it sounds even more pathetic when he squeals it.

With every infuriatingly slow thrust of your hips, Keigo makes a show of displaying his greed. He drags you into him, vice-grip in one hand locked in your flesh to pull it flush into his. His other hand busies itself clutching the drool-soaked pillow against his bare chest for stability.

You treat him delicately, fucking him too slow for him to even think of blowing his load? Oh, that makes him growl through his teeth.

"Just blow my back out, already!" He practically mopes, cock still throbbing in his toy. You can hear the purse of Keigo's lips, his adorable, jutted bottom lip that you're certain is wobbling at this point.

"C'mon," he grits. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you should, like… Keep your promises? They're no good if you don't, y'know."

There are only a few days in the year Keigo is allowed to act out like this, and he'll be damned if he doesn't capitalize on them to the fullest.

The brat's gonna put you in an early grave at this rate, you think. You may not be able to punish him today, but you certainly can give him exactly what he wants.

And when you do give him what he wants, the reality becomes abundantly clear: he can't actually handle it.

When you speed up, he pants like a dog— or, more aptly given this pretty little position, dripping submission and precum while he gets his ass stuffed, face down— Keigo pants like a bitch.

With his tongue far too heavy for his mouth, he resorts to whimpering into the pillow— his poor little crutch. The fleshlight is still squished between his pelvis and the bed, so every thrust you grind against his ass milks his cock, too. It's impossible to keep his head clear and focused when he's stimulated on all fronts; but bless him, Keigo does try.

He tries so hard, pathetically, to focus through the sounds of his lubed cock rubbing against the wet silicone, through the full feeling stuffing his insides at the same time.

Yet even still, it's not enough for him. He snarls in frustration as he shoves his hand between his thighs to adjust the cocksleeve, angled so he can stuff more of his cock in it, enveloped down to his base and pressing near-painfully against his balls.

Fuckin' perfect, he sighs, finally able to direct his attention to his lovely partner digging out his guts from behind.

"Make me your b-b—" He starts and trails off, brows pinched with effort. "Make me yours," he corrects.

Oh? You tuck that little tidbit away.

You suppose it's been countless minutes since you began railing the poor, whimpering pup beneath you. That is, if you were to judge by the rasp in his voice that builds each time he cries his heart out.

Keigo is, despite it all, a very, very good boy. He gives you his visual cues when he feels that telltale tingling in the swollen, blushing tip of his cock; the one that lets him know how close he really is to bursting along the edge. He tenses his already defined muscles and looks back at you with the cutest puppydog eyes, just to make sure you know he's close.

"I'm gonna cum," he warns verbally, too.

But you don't stop.

If his muscles weren't tense enough before, they certainly are now.

"Baby?" Keigo near-panics, turning a bit to gaze up at you pleadingly. Your floral bed sheets twist into spirals under each of his fists, wrung in a manner not unlike his cock. "Baby, I-I said I was gonna cum."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." You peer down your nose and eye the bead of sweat that slithers down his neck.

You watch the tremble of Keigo's hips as he does his best to keep his position poised like a prized showdog, dutifully still. He resists the urge to meet your strokes, instead offering every scrap of control to you as he lets the length of your strap carve out his insides. With every angled rock of your hips, the tip of your curved cock rubs against his poor prostate, stimulating it and making it a nightmare of an endurance test to hold himself back from spilling.

Habit is a powerful thing. Of course, Keigo's body recognizes the familiarity of this song and dance. His cock, ever well-trained, expects you to deny its release; to still your hips and cause his balls to ache, heavy with deprivation, just like you always do.

But tonight, you don't stop.

Your hands are still gripping his hips and your strap buckles are still clinking with your desperate movements. Your pelvis keeps pressing him deeper, manually pushing him in and out of the toy below; and he begrudgingly accepts your generosity, because it's possible that you just felt a little altruistic today.

After all, it is his—

"I'm gonna cum," Keigo whimpers. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum!"

And with his nails tearing at the sheets, Keigo's world goes white; almost as white as the sticky mess he makes of his poor little toy, tip flooding it with rope after rope from his throbbing cock.

It rings in his ears when he climaxes, overloading his poor brain with endorphins and making him scream into the pillow he chomps down on.

Still, your delicate hands guide his hips back and forth, ignoring his babbling to watch him fuck his own cum into the toy.

If it pleases you to watch Keigo continue the motion long after your hands have retreated, you keep it to yourself.

"Ah," he nearly shrieks, high pitched and pretty. "Too much! Ah, fuck, baby, please—"

"Yeah? How does it feel, sweetheart?"

"W-Wet," Keigo hiccups, hips stuttering just the same as his voice. He paws at the sheets when he continues, kneading them in his palms like a kitten. "So fucking wet."

"Mhm," you hum, sitting back on your haunches. You decide to make him use his words for your entertainment, to sate your indignance at his prior tantrums. "And why is that, babe?"

Your palms slide possessively down his hips and up the curvature of his back, meeting his arch. They trail toward his shoulder blades, fingers splayed as Keigo tries to chase them; and to your amusement, he hardly looks to be in the proper state to process the fact that he's actually being mocked, let alone protest it.

To Keigo, all he knows is it simply feels good.

Keigo answers obediently, instead. It takes you by surprise, the way his unabashed filth spills without shame. Arousal pools between your thighs, but your body remains still— if only to watch the way he fucks himself on your cock, balls deep before he does the same using his own to the fleshlight below.

"Because it's stuffed full of my cum. It's s-so wet, full— fuck," he slurs, voice airy and utterly uncontrolled when he draws his hips back onto your thick, pink strap, down till his ass meets your pelvis; and he thrusts his cock back inside the toy, the subsequent shlick somehow louder than how he runs his mouth.

Back and forth, in and out, Keigo irreverently milks himself from both ends. The motion of it smears his own spent along the sides of his cock, acting as the most obscene lubricant. It's messy, unbearably loud in its slick sounds.

It must sound as satisfying to hump as it feels, Keigo thinks. His lip wobbles at the thought, hoping it impresses you, and he bites the pillow below him.

"Aww, it's full?" You don't bother to muffle your laughs as you kneel behind him, simply watching as the once-powerful hero below you does all the work and fucks the snark out of himself, for you. The sound of your condescending laughter breaks him, whittling down his vocabulary as his mind sinks to that familiar, fuzzy place.

The silicone is unbearably tight around his length, even though you were careful to pick one out that he could fit into. The thickness and length of Keigo's cock does tend to make shopping for toys a chore, you muse.

You're not complaining, though. You'll take a couple extra hours of scrolling through fleshlight reviews on forums for the well-endowed before making a purchase, if it means you can keep getting split open by his massive cock when he bends you over the bathroom vanity.

Or the kitchen counter. Or the leather couch in your living room. Or the nearest single-stall restroom sink after you accidentally call him something you shouldn't have in public.

But tonight, the nicknames you call him sound nothing like "sir."

They sound like "puppy", like "sweetheart", like "good boy."

The ribbed, silicone rings inside are designed to squeeze his cock with each stroke. It normally feels simply pleasurable; though, after an orgasm that explosive, his cock feels nearly raw in its sensitivity, nerves exposed like live wiring and sparking electricity all the same.

"It hurts," Keigo squeaks through his fat, wet tears; and you begin to pull out and fuss over him.

That is, until he wails and grips your thigh close in his claws.

"Wait, I want it to! Don't pull out, please don't, please don't pull out. I was so close," he slurs.

"Already?" Your face scrunches with disbelief.

"Uh huh," he nods furiously.

And just like that, your grandiose plans of discovering how much is too much for the glutton end up fizzling out.

"Figures you'd be into overstimulation," you roll your eyes, palm slapping once against his behind as you watch it go from fleshy peach to red. "Whore."

"Huh?" Keigo drools. He sounds like a lost puppy, brain too fuzzy to register a single word— well, other than whore, but that's only because that word made his cock feel kind of nice.

"Not gonna remember a damn word you said tomorrow, are you," you ask, watching him rock his hips in desperation, drowning in his own pleasure. "Too lost when you get fucked, huh, puppy?"

"Mm-mm," Keigo shakes his head furiously, blonde tufts sticking up like stray feathers. At the sight of it, you're overcome with a sudden urge to claw at his scalp.

"Mm! Love you," he adds for seemingly no reason when you yank his neck back by the roots, throat bobbing with his strained swallow.

Heart pounding like the percussion of a heavy metal drum with moans just as erotic, skin slick with sweat and cock wet with his own release; this is the man Keigo is reduced to as you take charge once more. You bully his prostate, thighs burning with effort and breath panting in his ear. Your left hand releases his scalp to grip his jaw and keep his back arched into your chest, while your right shamelessly milks his cock, fleshlight in hand.

It's too much. His moans are broken, climbing in pitch like a crescendo until the dam breaks and his mind shatters once more.

You know how loud Keigo can be. You're well aware, well prepared; yet, like every time you make him sob and scream when he cums, it travels between your legs like lightning, regardless.

After he collapses into the sheets, it takes Keigo ages to catch his breath. His body still shudders and twitches with the aftershocks of his orgasm, wings flapping twice before tucking against his shoulder blades, submissively.

There's drool on the pillowcase, you note; and it's been chewed to bits.

When you pull out, he gasps. You rub the tip against his twitching rim in an attempt to soothe him, and his gasp settles into a sigh.

"Good?" You're out of breath, yourself, when you dare to ask. "You look like you lost one of your nine lives, for a second."

"Eh, it was alright," he smirks. "Could you do it again? I wasn't paying attention."

"Shut the fuck up," you slam the pillow against his side. "You're such a brat."

"You love it," Keigo teases, rolling onto his back and stretching. He exposes his belly. Blissfully comfortable, fucked-out, and entirely satiated.

His eyes nevertheless catch between your legs as you unbuckle the strap and let it fall unceremoniously. He wets his lip and swallows, pupils dilating.

"C'mere," Keigo says, making grabby hands. Expectant, he shifts in eager anticipation, settling into an acceptably comfortable position as you place your thighs on either side of his head— he won't be moving for quite some time, after all.

"Oh," you add, pretending as if you suddenly remembered something. "And Keigo?"

"Mhm?" He hums, craning his neck toward your core, eager to lap himself another helping to fill.

"Happy birthday, baby."

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEIGO 🥳🥳🥳#🖋 writing #🌶 spice #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #smut #x reader

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